1 I , 
 
THE OPTIMIST 
 
THE 
 
 T I M I S T . 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY T, TUCKERMAN. 
 
 " That I may show the whole world that we ought to value little jnya more than great ones ; the 
 night-gown more than the dress-coat ; that Plutus heaps are worth less than his handfuls, and not great, 
 but little good-haps, can make us happy. You perceive my drift is, that man may become a Httla 
 tailor-bird which, not amid the crashing boughs of the storm-tossed, roaring, immeasurable tree of life, 
 but upon one of its leaves, sews itself a nest together, and there lies snug." Jean Paul Frederic Richler, 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 GEORGE P. PUTNAM, 155 BROADWAY. 
 
 LONDON: PUTNAM S AMERICAN AGENCY, 
 49 Bow Lane, Cheapside. 
 
 MDCCCL. 
 
 I7V-T 
 
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 V - * 
 
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CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY, 1 
 
 TRAVEL, 31 
 
 MUSIC, 60 
 
 CONVERSATION, 72 
 
 ART AND ARTISTS, 88 
 
 rLYRIC POETRY, 103 
 
 SOCIAL LIFE, 112 
 
 COSTUME, 128 
 
 WALKING, 135 
 
 A CHAPTER ON HANDS, 147 
 
 THE NEW YORK COLONISTS, 160 
 
 EYE-LANGUAGE, 164 
 
 HUMOR, 175 
 
 THE GOLD FEVER, 181 
 
 THE PROFESSION OF LITERATURE, 195 
 
 HAIR, 205 
 
 A PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURATION, . . . . . . 212 
 
 THE WEATHER, 224 
 
 MANNER, 231 
 
 FLOWERS, 238 
 
 BROAD VIEWS, 257 
 
 THE RATIONALE OF LOVE, 262 
 
 225852 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 ONE of the benign and useful offices of literature 
 is to point out and uphold the poetry of Life and the 
 common resources of Nature, to which habit is so apt 
 to make us indifferent. It is a high distinction of 
 English writers that they have, in so many instances, 
 contributed standard works to this unpretending yet 
 genial department of letters. Addison, Goldsmith, 
 , Steele, Hazlitt, Lamb, Hunt, and many others, at once 
 suggest themselves as having illustrated the scope and 
 gracefulness attainable through wise and kindly com 
 ments on Society, and an appreciative interpretation 
 of the true and beautiful in Experience. The blended 
 acuteness and enthusiasm of such urbane philosophers, 
 brings them nearer the heart and comprehension of 
 readers than more recondite and speculative inquirers. 
 They make apparent the compensatory elements of 
 human existence ; they indicate the best means of 
 refining our senses and keeping alive our better 
 instincts ; they disperse from familiar charms the 
 mists of custom, and subdue the unhealthy devotion 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 to what is artificial and melodramatic, by refreshing 
 the mind with the unperverted affinities of nature ; 
 they afford a rational solace to the afflicted, and weave 
 consoling associations into the narrow web of destiny. 
 Without expounding Utopian social theories, or insist 
 ing upon a limited creed, they quietly suggest available 
 food for reflection, and appropriate objects for sym 
 pathy ; and accordingly minister to enlargement of 
 thought, elevation of taste, and delicacy of feeling. 
 
 Dr. Webster, besides the usual definition of optimism 
 (the belief that everything in nature is ordered for the 
 best), gives to the word another signification, viz. " that 
 order of things in the universe that is adapted to 
 produce the most good." In both senses the applica 
 bility of the term Optimists to the class of writers 
 alluded to, is obvious. They describe the genuine 
 sources both of pleasure and improvement, and elo-^ 
 quently indicate that minor philosophy which cultivates 1 
 the original and spontaneous resources of human life ;/ 
 which gratefully recognises natural laws, and seeks to 
 observe them ; and which practically maintains that 
 Truth is the most satisfactory nutriment for the mind, 
 Beauty for the imagination, and Love for the heart. 
 They hold, as it were, the prism of sympathetic intelli 
 gence up to the common light of day, and cause its 
 warm and brilliant, though latent hues, to reappear. 
 They analyse daily life to discover truth, and celebrate 
 the reign of beauty in order to kindle the spirit of love ; 
 and this is precisely the course of the genuine Optimist. 
 
PREFACE. XI 
 
 Comparatively humble as this species of literature may 
 be in the estimation of highly practical or absolutely 
 scientific authors, the intended service is noble, and, if 
 worthily fulfilled, inspires affectionate and enduring 
 regard, as is proved by the household fame such writers 
 enjoy. 
 
 To follow, however deviously, the path of such 
 genial explorers, may seem a bold, yet is certainly a 
 justifiable experiment. I have endeavored to discuss 
 some of the amenities of Life and phases of Society in 
 this little volume, in the same spirit of humanity which 
 has endeared this kind of writing to all lovers of 
 English literature ; but in the opinions expressed, and 
 the sentiments advocated, I am conscious of no impulse 
 but that of honest conviction. In illustrating several 
 of the topics I have cited poetical authority, not only 
 because of its intrinsic charm, but to indicate how 
 often what is flippantly termed the poetic view, coin 
 cides with natural fact and true philosophy. In this 
 way, also, much indirect criticism is suggested, espe 
 cially in regard to Shakspeare, whose relations to life 
 and the universe are so intimate, that there is scarcely 
 a theme connected with either, upon which judicious 
 quotations from his plays will not throw a new and 
 striking light. 
 
 Encouraged by the approbation bestowed upon 
 several of these papers, on the part of those in whose 
 candid opinion there is reason to trust, I frankly com^ 
 jnit them, in their present form, to the public, hopeful 
 
P R E F A C 
 
 only that they will receive as charitable judgment as 
 that awarded to previous attempts of a somewhat differ 
 ent character. 
 
 NEW YORK, March, 1850. 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 A COLLOQUIAL LECTURE. 
 
 " There are more things in Heaven and earth, Horatio, 
 Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." 
 
 HAMLET. 
 
 IN all communities there is a pervading theory of life, a set 
 of principles which guide the mass, a few permanent ideas that 
 actuate society. The English, for example, driven by a humid 
 atmosphere to look within doors for cheerful associations, 
 gather about them, with profusion, the means of physical well- 
 being. Continental visitors to Great Britain are astonished at 
 the perfection of domestic machinery, and the ingenious devices 
 to secure ease and warmth, and render the dwelling a castle 
 and a home. They at once recognise in such arrangements the 
 idea of Comfort as the chief element in the philosophy of life. 
 People on the other side of the channel, instead of concentrat 
 ing their means of enjoyment, go abroad in search of them. 
 The Parisian finds the glare of a public cafe more agreeable 
 than the snug fire-side of a private room ; he reads his gazette 
 under the trees in a public garden, and finds no difficulty in 
 making a companion of his neighbor at the theatre, piquing 
 himself all the while more on being one of the French nation 
 than for any individual qualities or possessions. By tempera 
 ment and habit he directly seeks Pastime, as the end of his 
 existence. If we pass to Italy, we discover a passion for music, 
 great local pride in the fame of genius, universal taste and 
 
 1 
 
MI ST. 
 
 enthusiasm for imaginative excitement of all kinds, and realize 
 how largely Art enters into their system of life. The Chinese 
 trustfully refer you to " Old Custom," and the Turks to Fate, 
 as the principles by which they regulate their being. It may 
 be a fanciful notion, but I think the ordinary salutations of a 
 people indicate, in a measure, their philosophy of living. The 
 French greeting is literally " how do you carry yourself ?" a 
 query suggestive of egotism ; that of the Italians " how do 
 you stand ?" which breathes of an existence in the immediate 
 so characteristic of the South ; while our favorite phrase is 
 " how do you get along ?" at once calling up an external and 
 distant goal success. 
 
 New England opinions and enterprises are so interwoven 
 with the social agencies of the whole country, and so constantly 
 eulogized on public occasions, that they may be justly deemed 
 the active and prominent element of American life. It has 
 become so much a practice, when any reference is made to the 
 habits, manners, and principles of our nation, to indulge in self- 
 congratulation, that not a few shrink from the hazardous expe 
 riment of dwelling, otherwise than complacently, upon the social 
 traits of the people. Indeed, one s patriotism is liable to be 
 called in question if he acknowledge any other creed than 
 implicit belief in the superiority of existent motives of action 
 and modes of life. Such a feeling cannot obtain, however, 
 among the candid and inquiring, or among those whose love of 
 country is intelligent and sincere. To such the chief value of 
 political liberty is the scope it affords for social improvement. 
 They revert to a brave ancestry, not alone to glory in their 
 laurels, but to emulate their fidelity, and add to the trophies of 
 national renown. No man flatters the woman he truly loves, 
 and that is a questionable devotion to country or friends which 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 3 
 
 is evidenced rather by blind partiality than affectionate insight, 
 and bold recognition of truth. If any people are bound by 
 honor and wisdom to self-criticism, it is ourselves, for we have 
 it in our power more than any other to carry out new principles 
 of action, to improve upon the results of experience, and imme 
 diately appropriate, as individuals, all the light that comes to 
 us. What, then, are the ultra tendencies in our social system, 
 taking New England philosophy, so generally quoted with 
 admiration, as the basis of inquiry ? What elements must we 
 individually furnish, to render our culture generous ? Wherein 
 are we liable to be perverted by the theory of life which pre 
 vails ? 
 
 Republics have ever been accounted peculiarly favorable to 
 the development of character. The absence of external domi 
 nation has been deemed the best guarantee for personal inde 
 pendence. The general confidence in this idea seems to me to 
 have produced results of a directly contrary kind. Nowhere is 
 the force of public opinion stronger than here. The very faith 
 we place in our own institutions is calculated to blind us as 
 individuals. Noble-minded men in the old world turn upon 
 their own resources, cultivate their peculiar tastes, and rely 
 upon their personal convictions, with the more determination, 
 from the very despotism which surrounds them. Our country 
 men pass through Southern Europe, and casually survey the 
 apathy which broods over human existence, the abject misery of 
 the lower orders, and the frivolous dissipation of the higher, and 
 turn away from the spectacle in disgust. But if they could 
 enter the apartments of some of the true spirits scattered 
 through those densely populated cities, they would frequently 
 pause in admiration of the scene. They would find minds 
 living, as it were, in the very atmosphere of heroism, holding 
 
4 THEOPTIMIST. 
 
 constant communion with the good and great of past ages, and 
 cherishing in solitude purposes worthy of the most eminent of 
 our race. We have known young men in Italy subsisting upon 
 the scantiest incomes rather than live upon the wages of 
 despotism, withdrawing from the gayest society rather than 
 countenance the levity of a court, feeding their aspirations at 
 the fountain of hallowed literature and elevating companionship, 
 and thus atoning for their untoward lot by a quiet bravery, 
 more impressive than the most gallant achievements. Such 
 characters have given us a more vivid sense of human worth 
 than the lives of successful heroes. We have thus been made to 
 realize how much of sacredness there is in the individual, how 
 much he can accomplish within himself, what courage and 
 power he may display, and what energies he may unfold by 
 manly and philosophic endurance. With us the case is so 
 widely different, that the tendency is to spread outward from 
 ourselves and become identified with the mass. There is a cant 
 of reverence applied to man in the abstract, but as an indi 
 vidual he is seldom appreciated, except under a professional 
 aspect. The true end of freedom is to develope manhood and 
 womanhood, not to make authors, mechanics, or statesmen. 
 First, let us have the human attributes in their completeness, 
 the broad intelligence that no vocation can bound, the heart 
 which no sect or party can absorb. Let the personal character 
 the living aggregate of qualities which each represents, not 
 mere aptitudes or condition win our interest and enlist our 
 sympathies. It is owing to an estimate the opposite of this, 
 that, except in the West and South, the surface of life is so 
 level that there is little material in the way of original character 
 in our young land, so few, compared to the monotonously 
 energetic mass, who stand in bold relief, distinct, consistent, 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 5 
 
 individual men, living for a great idea, like Columbus, or endur 
 ing with brave self-reliance, like Dante. The danger is ever 
 with us that we refer our actions, thoughts, and feelings, to the 
 idolized standard of public opinion. We believe too much in 
 associations, and too little in ourselves. We are not inclined to 
 concentrate mind, sentiment, and activity, but to dissipate them 
 in generalities. Now, the actual good which the individual 
 derives from associations is very limited. They are doubtless 
 useful in a certain way and to a certain extent ; but they ought 
 not to blind us to nearer obligations, nor to the truth that even 
 the cause of philanthropy may often be best promoted by per 
 sonal fidelity. " Over the time, thou hast no power ; to redeem 
 a world sunk in dishonesty has not been given thee ; solely 
 over one man therein thou hast a quite absolute, uncontrollable 
 power ; him redeem, him make honest ; it will be something, it 
 will be much, and thy life and labor not in vain." 
 
 Next to the danger of subserviency to society, the unhealthy 
 prominence of the idea of thrift is the most baneful feature in 
 our philosophy of life. That it should be prominent in a young 
 and commercial republic is to be expected. The great error is 
 that there is little desire to restrain its expression within due 
 bounds. Let it have free scope on the exchange and in the 
 mart, but let it not continually deform our fire-side discourse, 
 and usurp the inner sanctuary of the soul. There, at least, let 
 not all be " base respects of thrift and none of love." Pecu 
 niary ability is the established criterion of the value of life ; 
 circumstances are almost deified ; success is exclusively desired, 
 or rather grossly misunderstood ; for if there be a single esta 
 blished principle of human well-being, it is that which defines 
 the successful man as him who is true to himself to his 
 powers, tastes, and actual needs. It is time we not only coldly 
 
6 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 acknowledged, but instinctively felt, that it is as barbaric to 
 reverence wealth as to overload the limbs with ornament. The 
 philosophy of life with us seems based on the faith that man 
 lives by bread alone. Trade and politics completely overshadow 
 literature and art. Invention exhausts itself upon machines 
 and finance ; our trophies may be found chiefly at the patent 
 office. Yet the real end of all these is to procure time, and 
 what is time, if unprovided with the resources which shall dig 
 nify and adorn it ? " Poetry," says a beautiful writer, " and 
 the principle of self, of which money is the visible incarnation, 
 are the God and Mammon of the world." 
 
 What intelligent mind can doubt the truth of this obser 
 vation ? Yet how opposed to such an idea is the spirit of our 
 community ! A New England merchant, upon leaving a pic 
 ture-gallery abroad, was observed by his companion to be very 
 thoughtful. Presently he exclaimed, "I have been thinking 
 of nothing but making money all my life. How much there is 
 to learn and to enjoy in this world ! Henceforth no thought 
 of business shall enter my mind, until I recross the Atlantic. I 
 will study painting, and sculpture, and music : I will commune 
 with nature ; I will ponder the works of departed genius ; I 
 will cultivate the society of the intellectual and the gifted ;" at 
 this point of his harangue, he suddenly left his friend s side, and 
 darted into a shop they were passing, apologizing, upon 
 resuming the walk, by saying he had merely stopped to inquire 
 the price of tallow ! Leisure with us is still an anomaly. Now 
 far be it from us to gainsay the advantages of industry, to deny 
 that labor is man s appropriate sphere, or to lament, for a 
 moment, the spectacle of universal activity, and consequently, 
 of prosperity around us. Let us only contend that all labor is 
 not obvious and tangible ; that no man who thinks, deserves to 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 7 
 
 be called an idler ; that the absence of any obvious employment 
 or specific profession does not necessarily make any one amena 
 ble to the charge of inactivity. How much of our boasted 
 industry is profitless ; to how many social ambition or extra 
 vagant tastes, instead of necessity, form the true motives of 
 business ; how much of the so called occupation about us is 
 void of any higher result than that of keeping its votaries out 
 of mischief; how seldom do those who have acquired a compe 
 tency retire upon it to scenes of domestic improvement ; and with 
 what reluctance do the fortunate yield the arena to the young 
 and penniless, even when age and infirmity warn them to 
 retreat ! It is time we learned, not to underrate business, but 
 to appreciate leisure. A man who is miserable when his hands 
 are unemployed or his mind unabsorbed in affairs, confesses to 
 an evil which mere physical activity cannot remove. Where, 
 then, are the results of our boasted education ? Of what avail 
 are prosperity and freedom ? Doubtless activity is the true 
 destiny of man, an essential condition of his being ; and much 
 of it must be outward and absorbing. But this is no reason for 
 the horror of leisure which is so common ; it is no reason why 
 a man who is not ostensibly busy should be regarded as some 
 strange animal, or that the mere idea of repose should prove 
 alarming. One of our artists designed a family group, and 
 submitted it to his wealthy patron for approval. " Sir," ex 
 claimed that personage, highly indignant ; " do you think I 
 would have my wife painted with a rose in her hand ? Let her 
 be employed about something." Thus was spurned, even in 
 fancy, a little dalliance with the passing moment, over one of 
 those flowers which a benignant Creator seems to have furnished, 
 as it were, to lure us sometimes to linger and to muse upon the 
 highway of life. " Never less idle than when idle," was the 
 
8 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 motto which the admirable Vittoria Colonna wrought upon her 
 husband s dressing-gown. And may we not justly regard our 
 appreciation of leisure as a test of improved character and grow 
 ing resources ? 
 
 The next feature in the prevalent theory of life to which I 
 would allude, is the want of serenity. In society, business, and 
 education, there is a spirit of urgency, an artificial force con 
 stantly exhibited, as opposed to true habits of mind as it is to 
 real happiness. If enterprise hath her Carnival here, enjoyment 
 often keeps Lent. We accustom ourselves to live in a continual 
 bustle, and make, on all occasions, a parade of action, as if this 
 were the true criterion of success, the only evidence of progress 
 We do not believe in the wise saying, that " it is an absolute, 
 and, as it were, a divine perfection for a man to know how 
 loyally to enjoy his being." There is a true epicurism the 
 luxury of an existence regulated by the natural wants and higher 
 instincts of the individual, of which we are practically ignorant. 
 Instead of meeting in the frank simplicity and heartiness be 
 coming republicans, at one another s firesides, in the full and 
 frequent confidence of genuine social feeling, interchanging 
 opinions, and enjoying the delights of sympathy, we deem it 
 better to crowd our small apartments to suffocation, wander, for 
 several hours, over a dwelling which has been disarranged from 
 garret to cellar for the occasion, exchange a word or sign of 
 recognition with some hundred acquaintances, and close the 
 evening s pastime by partaking of an extravagant entertainment. 
 Even the preparation for the conflict of life to which the earlier 
 years of existence are sacred, is marked by the same ostentatious 
 urgency. The tender brain of infancy is fevered by the spirit 
 of emulation. The child is incited at home by the ambitious 
 views of his parents, and surrounded at school by a system of 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 9 
 
 artificial machinery. Certificates of conduct and studies flutter 
 weekly before his eyes, inspiring the same anxious foreboding 
 that the thought of promissory notes is destined, in after life, to 
 awaken when the banks suspend specie payments. Then 
 come periodical examinations and exhibitions, for which the 
 pupil undergoes weeks of extra drilling, as if he could not be too 
 early and too deeply impressed with the importance of display. 
 How often is the sensitive New England youth forced to sym 
 pathize in Tony Lumpkin s undutiful remonstrance to his 
 mother s officious and mistaken kindness, which she justifies by 
 the common plea, that it was all for the victim s good ! " I wish 
 you d let me and my good alone, then. If I m to have any 
 good, let it come of itself ; and don t keep dinging it, dinging 
 it into me so." And when he leaves the scene of education, 
 whatever his calling, the same principle of " affected dispatch," 
 as Lord Bacon calls it, must be acted upon. If he would suc 
 ceed in business he must identify himself with some popular 
 movement, he must contrive to keep his name before the public, 
 with the epithets, " liberal and enterprising," appended to it. 
 A hint must now and then be given, in the papers, of his yearly 
 sales, or the amount of hands he employs. Above all, he must 
 keep up in his own person an appearance of business. His 
 rapid gait, hasty speech, and short salutations, must give the 
 world assurance of a busy man. Mrs. Jameson, whose observa 
 tion was artistic as well as sympathizing, observed, that Ameri 
 can faces had an outward look. This extends even to American 
 enjoyments, of which it may be said, as some traveller said of 
 the English, " they amuse themselves sadly after the manner 
 of their country." If, on the other hand, a professional life is 
 adopted, the first thing necessary to success is, to do or to seem 
 to do something extraordinary. One must advocate some pecu- 
 
10 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 liar system, announce some startling novelty, or espouse some 
 public cause, and let it be known from Maine to Georgia that 
 he is ready to become a martyr in its behalf. In a word, this 
 trait of our philosophy of life is almost universal. Scarcely a 
 week passes withBut a celebration by public dinners and elo 
 quent harangues of some popular event or local anniversary. 
 The political atmosphere is never quiet, and the social spirit is 
 ever and anon aroused by some bold doctrine or alleged dis 
 covery. Now, that there is much that is really desirable in 
 such symptoms, it would be absurd to deny, that they consti 
 tute an unavoidable feature in our present stage of progress, is 
 very evident. Still it is of great importance that the individual 
 should not be deceived or carried away by this universal sem 
 blance of activity. In older countries we often see a graceful 
 repose upon destiny, an absence of care respecting the future, 
 and an instinctive trust like that in which a bird or flower lives, 
 which, to say the least, leaves the mind free to please and be 
 pleased, and renders far less prevailing than with us the idea 
 of self-interest and morbid ambition. Such beings have the 
 requisite sympathy to regard the individuality, and realize the 
 fraternal relation, which make human society endearing. Let 
 us not be beguiled of our self-possession by the bustle around 
 us. Let us not be so absorbed in the show of things, as to miss 
 their essence and reality. There is no little danger amid all 
 this exhibition of force, this large promise of results, that we 
 shall be drawn aside from our true position by the stream of 
 multitude. The great duty which such artificial activity imposes 
 upon the individual, is to estimate calmly the real value of the 
 objects for which so much sympathy is demanded. His obliga 
 tions to his own nature are paramount to those which society 
 so constantly urges. A few years since, a volcanic island 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 11 
 
 appeared off the coast of Sicily. It was announced by many 
 and portentous signs. Shocks of an earthquake were felt in the 
 vicinity ; immense quantities of fish rose dead to the surface of 
 the sea, and the water, for a considerable space, was strangely 
 agitated. At length columns of dense smoke rose up from the 
 waves, intermingled with globes of fire, and accompanied with 
 the noise of thunder. After many days the vapor rolled away 
 and left a small island revealed, where before there was but a 
 watery waste. The phenomenon excited immense interest. 
 Scientific men nocked to the place to investigate the material, 
 and account for the construction of the island. The curious 
 repaired thither to gratify their thirst for novelty, and the 
 incredulous to satisfy their doubts. Finally, an English voyager 
 landed on the spot, and planting the flag of his country, gave it 
 the name he himself bore. Satisfied that by this act his 
 immortality was secured, he hastened home to report his dis 
 covery. Meantime the captain of a Sicilian vessel explored the 
 island, indignantly tore down the British ensign, and erecting 
 that of the Two Sicilies, declared that it should be ever known 
 as the isle of Ferdinand. While the right of possession was 
 warmly disputing, and the philosophers of Sicily argued as 
 earnestly all the scientific problems involved in the subject, 
 while surveyors vied with each other in drafting its form and 
 ascertaining its dimensions, the devoted island suddenly disap 
 peared beneath the sea, and the next morning nothing met the 
 eyes of the discomfited spectators but a solitary expanse of 
 water. Are not many popular objects announced by a like 
 display of noise and glare as foretold the volcanic island ? And 
 after absorbing the energies of a crowd of aspirants for fame or 
 fortune, do they not, in like manner, sink into the waters of 
 oblivion 3 Are not the fire of genius, the apprehension of intel- 
 
12 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 lect, the warmth of the heart, too sacred to be carelessly 
 expended ? Shall we be decoyed by every transient fire that 
 gleams upon the ocean of life, when we can wander calmly 
 along its firm shores, and look out, unsubdued, upon the tumult 
 of its waves ? 
 
 There is an efficacy in calmness of which we are unaware. 
 The element of serenity is one which we peculiarly need. I 
 speak not of that calmness which is more properly stagnation, 
 not the calmness of apathy and indifference, but what Words 
 worth calls the " quiet of a thinking mind self-occupied," the 
 calmness of an army before the onset, of the dark cloud before 
 the thunder-burst, of the torrent before it strikes the rocks 
 significant of gathering strength, of concentrate power, of quiet 
 energy. How full of emblems of this serene action is Nature ! 
 The frosts of autumn touch the forest leaves, and we wonder at 
 their gorgeous dyes. Gradually they are loosened from the 
 branches by the wailing breeze, and in a few days lie thickly 
 strewn upon the ground, there to decompose and enrich the 
 very loam that nourished them into life. What a universal 
 change, and how quietly produced ! What can be more awful 
 than many of the phenomena which the snows of winter occa 
 sion ? Melting in the hollows of the hills, this white and fleecy 
 substance dissolves, streams into the valleys, and collects into 
 torrents that swell the neighboring rivers and produce the most 
 destructive inundations. Masses of snow conjoin among the 
 Alpine summits, and thunder down in the form of the terrific 
 avalanche. On a night when the winds are hushed, how noise 
 less falls the snow ! With what profound quiet it accumulates ! 
 Yet the mighty and hitherto invincible army of Napoleon was 
 subdued by a Russian snow-storm. Thus is it with the soul. 
 But a small part of its deepest and truest activity can be dis- 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 13 
 
 played. There is a mystery in its growth. The best energies 
 of our nature, too, are quietly unfolded and slowly matured. 
 There is a power and truth which can only be realized in tran-. 
 quillity. There is a wisdom that displays itself only in the 
 serene and thoughtful breast. There are beauties of character 
 which, like the night-blooming Cereus, are closed against the 
 glare and turbulence of everyday life, and bloom only in shade 
 and solitude and beneath the quiet stars. 
 
 Another principle in the New England philosophy of life, 
 which demands attention, is extreme devotion to reason. Frank 
 lin is still the personation of the American mind abroad, an 
 honored name, indeed, but one that serves only as a partial 
 exponent of humanity the type of the practical, not the ideal 
 man, of useful science rather than the soul. In no other coun 
 try could Poor Kichard s sayings have attained such favor. 
 Our only metaphysician who enjoys a European reputation, is 
 Edwards, whose celebrated work on the Will is devoted to a 
 defence of the old popular theology. The pride of the culti 
 vated New Englander is that he is rational. The first lore 
 instilled into his mind is in the shape of prudential maxims. 
 The favorite term of approbation he bestows upon a woman is 
 sensible, and there is nothing so congenial to his ambition as 
 the reputation of talent. The natural consequence is that his 
 ideal of character is based almost wholly upon intellectual gifts 
 and attainments. Every subject is viewed through the cold 
 medium of expediency ; all questions must be tried by the level 
 light of the understanding, and the most hallowed associations 
 and universal precedents wrested into the service of temporary 
 and narrow objects. One of our most distinguished men in a 
 critique upon Othello that unrivalled exposition of the power 
 of love and " jealousy, that doats but dooms, and murders yet 
 
14 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 adores," declares trie moral of the sublime drama to be an 
 exposition of the evil consequences of amalgamation and run 
 away matches ! In this tendency to seize upon the rationale 
 of existence, to act upon what are called common-sense princi 
 ples, there is doubtless much to approve. A community thus 
 characterized possesses an essential element of advancement. 
 But when such a theory is exclusive, when it is reposed upon 
 as broad and deep enough for the soul, and becomes, as it were, 
 the standard of life and the mould of character, we are tempted 
 to exclaim with Charles Lamb, " Hang them ! I mean the 
 cursed reasoning crew those blights and blasts of all that is 
 human in man or child." We do not appreciate feeling. We 
 estimate knowledge far beyond sentiment. We reverence intel 
 lect but look distrustfully upon enthusiasm, for the love of 
 excitement in which the formal lives of New Englanders re-act, 
 is not entitled to the name. We crusade for the most part 
 against vices of appetite, which are often the overflowings of 
 rich natures, linked with the most generous qualities, and in 
 most cases only fatal when habitual and excessive. We do not 
 realize that the moral evils that most effectually despoil the 
 spirit of beauty are those of calculation, to which perverted 
 intellect panders ; these are integral, not incidental. A lapse 
 of integrity, an act of successful fraud accomplished with con 
 summate skill, is infinitely more detestable than the temporary 
 abuse of any natural appetite, for it argues the deliberate per 
 version of the higher faculties a hopeless barrenness of noble 
 feeling. I know that many will not consent to such a broad 
 distinction between the mind and the heart ; ideas, say they, 
 are but feelings shaped into thought. But such metaphysical 
 niceties have nothing to do with our present purpose. Every 
 one is conscious of a power within him which reasons, judges, 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 15 
 
 and infers, and other and far different capacities, whose office it 
 is to awaken, impel, and fill him with emotions. Now I think 
 it cannot be denied that the reasoning, powers-ara-too frequently 
 cultivated with us, at the expense of those fine sensibilities and 
 warm impulses which exist in eery human breast. The stern 
 ness of our Puritan origin, the formality of our system of educa 
 tion, the reserve of our social intercourse, the calculating habits 
 of our national character all tend to repress in the young the 
 earnest flow of their hearts ; they early acquire a false shame 
 at the expression of feeling, and come to regard the least mani 
 festation of natural ardor as undignified and weak. And thus 
 the saying of one of the commentators on our country is veri 
 fied our climate has no spring and our people no youth. One 
 often recalls the exclamation of the afflicted parent depicted by 
 Shakspeare, to his officious consoler, " I prithee, peace ! I will 
 be flesh and blood." The brave Marquis of Posa in Schiller s 
 Don Carlos, in his bold and generous appeal to the cruel Philip, 
 exclaims, " In your great system, suffer souls to ripen !" One 
 is inclined to urge the same plea upon those who are so active 
 in their cares for the New England mind. The cares of life 
 and the scenes of competition, into which the New Englander is 
 early introduced, will do enough to indurate and pervert the 
 fountains of the heart. Let not our theory of life, our practical 
 philosophy, second the process which circumstances already 
 sufficiently insure. The vividness and strength of early impres 
 sions every one has realized. They color our whole after lot. 
 Now, it is remarkable that, acknowledged as this truth univer 
 sally is, its actual influence upon education is so slight. The 
 impression which the child receives will be indissolubly asso 
 ciated with all his future experience. Should it not then be 
 more a matter of conscience with parents and teachers to 
 
16 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 minister to the happiness of childhood, to reverence its freedom, 
 instead of following the example of the sagacious man who 
 clipped the wings of his bees and selected for them such flowers 
 as he t chose ? Let us refrain from stamping any stern or dark 
 impression upon the young heart, that it may meet the problem 
 of life in a fresh and original spirit. The discipline to which 
 we are subject in early life, however kindly intended, too often 
 weaves shadows for our future lot, and sadly mars our spiritual 
 destiny. Byron breaks off in the midst of his glorious lay 
 inspired by classic scenes, to lament the forced teaching of his 
 youth, which embittered the pages of Horace for ever to his 
 taste ; and how many New Englanders, from a similar cause, 
 have the painful associations of a task connected with the best 
 of books, and the gloomiest sense of restraint associated with 
 the holiest of days ! We laugh at the impatient child who 
 daily digs up the seed to see if it has sprouted, and are content 
 to supply good soil to the plant and leave it to the free air, the 
 soft dew, and the balmy sunshine ; why are we less just to the 
 soul ? To guard it from evil, and to meet its wants as far as 
 we can, is indeed our duty ; but a higher power has already 
 ordained its capacities ; to them we can neither add nor take 
 away. Let us show some veneration for God s holy work, and 
 leave it more to his smile and its own freedom. 
 
 Another consequence of this exclusive faith in reason is that 
 it disposes us to repose entirely upon rules, to act too constantly 
 upon arbitrary principles, till the mechanical triumphs over the 
 spiritual, and mere habit usurps the place of the spontaneous. 
 Now I do not deny that rules have their utility, that in a world 
 of vicissitude certain laws of action must be, to some extent at 
 least, adopted, and that fixed principles are the best security to 
 virtue. But this admission does not justify the dogged attach- 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 1 7 
 
 ment to certain maxims which is so often boasted of as the dis 
 tinction of New England philosophy. Constant reference to 
 precise rules indicates the novice. The artist, at first, is con 
 tinually measuring, but as his eye becomes practised, he confides 
 in its accuracy. An instinct developes within him more certain 
 than the dictum of science. And thus the soul outgrows max 
 ims and becomes spontaneously progressive and true. With 
 many votaries of the rational system, I believe, the great idea 
 of improvement consists in nothing more than adding to their 
 stock of ideas. Some, indeed, do not even go thus far, but are 
 chiefly anxious to abide by those they have already acquired. 
 The direct tendency of this feature of the prevalent philosophy 
 is to lead a man, particularly one of passive temperament, to 
 entrench himself in a set of fixed laws, as if the goal of progress 
 was reached, the great end of life achieved. He has established 
 a certain theory of dietetics, a certain system of expense, has 
 chosen a set of companions, and adopted a certain political and 
 religious creed, and now all that remains for him is to abide by 
 all these rules, and thus realize Burns s picture : 
 
 " ye douce folk, that live by rule, 
 Grave, tideless-blooded, calm and cool, 
 Compared wi you O fool ! fool ! fool ! 
 
 How much unlike ! 
 Your hearts are just a standing pool, 
 
 Your lives a dyke !" 
 
 All this is directly opposed to freedom and to progress. The 
 pursuit of truth the highest vocation of man is thus fore 
 closed ; the exercise of generous sympathies that dearest of 
 human privileges is renounced. The individual has sold his 
 birth-right. He is an apostate from the true faith of humanity. 
 
18 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 He has relinquished the real glory of his nature. The future 
 is denuded of hope to his fixed gaze, and his heart beats only 
 in monotonous echoes to the slow and weary footsteps of time. 
 A work of art is said to be perfect in proportion as it does not 
 remind the spectator of the process by which it was created ; 
 so a character is delightful as we lose all sense of its training in 
 the love of its spontaneous excellences. 
 
 Let us recognise the beauty and power of true enthusiasm ; 
 and whatever we may do to enlighten ourselves and others, 
 guard against checking or chilling a single earnest sentiment. 
 For what is the human mind, however enriched with acquisi 
 tions or strengthened by exercise, unaccompanied by an ardent 
 and sensitive heart ? Its light may illumine, but it cannot 
 inspire. It may shed a cold and moonlight radiance upon the 
 path of life, but it warms no flower into bloom ; it sets free no 
 ice-bound fountains. Dr. Johnson used to say, that an obsti 
 nate rationality prevented him from being a Papist. Does 
 not the same cause prevent many of us from unburdening our 
 hearts and breathing our devotions at the shrines of nature ? 
 There are influences which environ humanity too subtle for the 
 dissecting knife of reason. In our better moments we are 
 clearly conscious of their presence, and if there is any barrier to 
 their blessed agency, it is a formalized intellect. Enthusiasm, 
 too, is the very life of gifted spirits. Ponder the lives of the 
 glorious in art or literature through all ages. What are they 
 but records of toils and sacrifices supported by the earnest 
 hearts of their votaries ? Dante composed his immortal poem 
 amid exile and suffering, prompted by the noble ambition of 
 vindicating himself to posterity ; and the sweetest angel of his 
 paradise is the object of his early love. The best countenances 
 the old painters have bequeathed to us are those of cherished 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 19 
 
 objects intimately associated with their fame. The face of 
 Raphael s mother blends with the angelic beauty of all his 
 Madonnas. Titian s daughter and the wife of Corregio again 
 and again meet in their works. Well does Foscolo call the fine 
 arts the children of Love. The deep interest with which the 
 Italians hail gifted men, inspires them to the mightiest efforts. 
 National enthusiasm is the great nursery of genius. When 
 Cellini s statue of Perseus was first exhibited on the Piazza at 
 Florence, it was surrounded for days by an admiring throng, 
 and hundreds of tributary sonnets were placed upon its pedestal. 
 Petrarch was crowned with laurel at Rome for his poetical 
 labors, and crowds of the unlettered may still be seen on the 
 Mole at Naples, listening to a reader of Tasso. Reason is not 
 the only interpreter of life. The fountain of action is in the 
 feelings. Religion itself is but a state of the affections. I once 
 met a beautiful peasant woman in the valley of the Arno, and 
 asked the number of her children. " I have three here and 
 two in paradise," she calmly replied, with a tone and manner 
 of touching and grave simplicity. Her faith was of the heart. 
 Constituted as human nature is, it is in the highest degree 
 natural that rare powers should be excited by voluntary and 
 spontaneous appreciation. Who would not feel urged to high 
 achievement, if he knew that every beauty his canvas displayed, 
 or every perfect note he breathed, or every true inspiration of 
 his lyre, would find an instant response in a thousand breasts ? 
 Lord Brougham calls the word "impossible" the mother-tongue 
 of little souls. What, I ask, can counteract self-distrust, and 
 sustain the higher efforts of our nature but enthusiasm ? More 
 of this element would call forth the genius, and gladden the 
 life of New England. While the mere intellectual man specu 
 lates, and the mere man of acquisition cites authority, the man 
 
20 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 I 
 
 of feeling acts, realizes, puts forth his complete energies. His ear 
 nest and strong heart will not let his mind rest ; he is urged by an 
 inward impulse to embody his thought ; he must have sympathy, 
 he must have results. And nature yields to the magician, acknow 
 ledging him as her child. The noble statue comes forth from 
 the marble, the speaking figure stands out from the canvas, the 
 electric chain is struck in the bosoms of his fellows. They 
 receive his ideas, respond to his appeal, and reciprocate his love. 
 Constant supplies of knowledge to the intellect and the 
 exclusive culture of reason may, indeed, make a pedant and 
 logician ; but the probability is, these benefits, if such they are, 
 will be gained at the expense of the soul. Sentiment, in its 
 broadest acceptation, is as essential to the true enjoyment and 
 grace of life as mind. Technical information, and that quick 
 ness of apprehension which New Englanders call smartness, are 
 not so valuable to a human being as sensibility to the beautiful, 
 and a spontaneous appreciation of the divine influences which 
 fill the realms of vision and of sound, and the world of action 
 and feeling. The tastes, affections, and sentiments are more 
 absolutely the man than his talent or acquirements. And yet 
 it is by and through the latter that we are apt to estimate 
 character, of which they are at best but fragmentary evidences. 
 It is remarkable that in the New Testament allusions to the 
 intellect are so rare, while the " heart" and the " spirit we are 
 of" are ever appealed to. Sympathy is the " golden key" which 
 unlocks the treasures of wisdom ; and this depends upon vivid 
 ness and warmth of feeling. It is therefore that Tranio advises 
 "In brief, sir, study what you most affect." A code of 
 etiquette may refine the manners, but the " heart of courtesy," 
 which, through the world, stamps the natural gentleman, can 
 never be attained but through instinct ; and in the same manner, 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 21 
 
 those enriching and noble sentiments which are the most beau 
 tiful and endearing of human qualities, no process of mental 
 training will create. To what end is society, popular education, 
 churches, and all the machinery of culture, if no living truth is 
 elicited which fertilizes as well as enlightens ? Shakspeare 
 undoubtedly owed his marvellous insight into the human soul 
 to his profound sympathy with man. He might have conned 
 whole libraries on the philosophy of the passions ; he might 
 have coldly observed facts for years, and never have conceived 
 of jealousy like Othello s, the remorse of Macbeth, or love like 
 that of Juliet. When the native sentiments are once interested, 
 new facts spring to light. It was under the excitement of 
 wonder and love, that Byron, tossed on the Lake of Geneva, 
 thought that " Jura answered from her misty shroud," respon 
 sive to the thunder of the Alps. With no eye of mere curiosity 
 did Bryant follow the lonely flight of the water-fowl. Vene 
 ration prompted the inquiry, 
 
 " Whither midst falling dew, 
 
 When glow the heavens with the last steps of day, 
 Far through their rosy depths dost thou pursue 
 Thy solitary way 1" 
 
 Sometimes, in musing upon genius in its simpler manifesta 
 tions, it seems as if the great art of human culture consisted 
 chiefly in preserving the glow and freshness of the heart. It is 
 certain that in proportion as its merely mental strength and 
 attainment takes the place of natural sentiment, in proportion 
 as we acquire the habit of receiving all impressions through the 
 reason, the teachings of Nature grow indistinct and cold, how 
 ever it may be with those of books. That this is the tendency 
 of the New England philosophy of life and education, I think 
 
22 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 can scarcely be disputed. I have remarked that some of our 
 most intelligent men speak of mastering a subject, of compre 
 hending a book, of settling a question, as if these processes 
 involved the whole idea of human cultivation. The reverse of 
 all this is chiefly desirable. It is when we are overcome, and 
 the pride of intellect vanquished before the truth of nature, 
 when, instead of coming to a logical decision, we are led to bow 
 in profound reverence before the mysteries of life, when we are 
 led back to childhood, or up to God, by some powerful revela 
 tion of the sage or minstrel, it is then our natures grow. To 
 this end is all art. Exquisite vocalism, beautiful statuary and 
 painting, and all true literature, have not for their great object 
 to employ the ingenuity of prying critics, or furnish the world 
 with a set of new ideas, but to move the whole nature by the 
 perfection and truthfulness of their appeal. There is a certain 
 atmosphere exhaled from the inspired page of genius, which 
 gives vitality to the sentiments, and through these quickens the 
 mental powers. And this is the chief good of books. Were it 
 otherwise, those of us who have bad memories might despair of 
 advancement. I have heard educated New Englanders boast 
 of the quantity of poetry they have read in a given time, as if 
 rich fancies and elevated thoughts are to be dispatched as are 
 beefsteaks on board our steamboats. Newspapers are estimated 
 by their number of square feet, as if this had anything to do 
 with the quality of their contents. Journeys of pleasure are 
 frequently deemed delightful in proportion to their rapidity, 
 without reference to the new scenery or society they bring into 
 view. Social gatherings are not seldom accounted brilliant in 
 the same degree that they are crowded. Such would not be 
 the case, if what the phrenologists call the affective powers, 
 were enough considered ; if the whole soul, instead of the 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 23 
 
 " meddling intellect" alone, was freely developed ; if we realized 
 the truth thus expressed by a powerful writer " within the 
 entire circle of our intellectual constitution we value nothing but 
 emotion ; it is not the powers, but the fruit of those powers, in 
 so much feeling of a lofty kind as they will yield." 
 
 One of the most obvious consequences of these traits appears 
 in social intercourse. Foreigners have ridiculed certain external 
 habits of Americans ; but these were always confined to the 
 few, and where most prevalent have yielded readily to censure. 
 There are incongruities of manners still more objectionable, 
 because the direct exponents of character and resulting from the 
 philosophy of life. Delicacy and self-respect are the fruits, not 
 so much of intellect as sensibility. We are considerate towards 
 others in proportion as our own consciousness gives us insight. 
 The sympathies are the best teachers of politeness ; and these 
 are ever blunted by an exclusive reliance on perception. Nothing 
 is more common than to find educated New Engenders uncon 
 sciously invading the privacy of others, to indulge their idle 
 curiosity, or giving a personal turn to conversation in a way 
 that outrages all moral refinement. This is observable in society 
 professedly intellectual. It is scarcely deemed rude to allude to 
 one s personal appearance, health, dress, circumstances, or even 
 most sacred feelings, although neither intimacy nor confidence 
 lends the slightest authority to the proceeding. Such violation 
 of what is due to others, is more frequently met with among the 
 cultivated of this than any other country. It is comparatively 
 rare here to encounter a natural gentleman. A New England 
 philosopher, in a recent work,* betrays no little fear of 
 " excess of fellowship." In the region he inhabits there is 
 
 * Emerson s Essays, 2d Series. 
 
24 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 ground for the apprehension. No standard of manners will 
 correct the evil. The peasantry of Southern Europe, and the 
 most ignorant Irishwomen, often excel educated New Englanders 
 in genuine courtesy. Their richer feelings teach them how to 
 deal with others. Reverence and tenderness (not self-possession 
 and intelligence) are the hallowed avenues through which alone 
 true souls come together. The cool satisfaction with which 
 character is analysed and defined in New England, is an evi 
 dence of the superficial test which observation alone affords. A 
 Yankee dreams not of the world which is revealed only through 
 sentiment. Men, and especially women, shrink from unfolding 
 the depths of their natures to the cold and prying gaze which 
 aims to explore them only as an intellectual diversion. It is 
 the most presumptuous thing in the world for an unadulterated 
 New Englander, however cute and studious, to pretend to know 
 another human being, if nobly endowed ; for he is the last 
 person to elicit latent and cherished emotions. He may read 
 mental capacities and detect moral tendencies, but no familiarity 
 will unveil the inner temple ; only in the vestibule will his pry 
 ing step be endured. 
 
 Another effect of this exaggerated estimate of intellect is, that 
 talent and character are often regarded as identical. This is a 
 fatal but very prevalent error. A gift of mind, let it ever be 
 remembered, is not a grace of soul. Training, or native skill, 
 will enable any one to excel in the machinery of expression. 
 The phrase artistical, whether in reference to statuary, painting, 
 literature, or manners, implies only aptitude and dexterity. Who 
 is not aware, for instance, of the vast difference between a merely 
 scientific knowledge of music and that enlistment of the sympa 
 thies in the art which makes it the eloquent medium of passion, 
 sentiment, and truth ? And in literature, how often do we find 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 25 
 
 the most delicate perception of beauty in the writer, combined 
 with a total want of genuine refinement in the man ! Art is 
 essentially imitative ; and its value, as illustrative of character, 
 depends not upon the mental endowments, but upon the moral 
 integrity of the artist. The idea of talent is associated more or 
 less with the idea of success ; and on this account the lucrative 
 creed of the New Englander recognises it with indiscriminate 
 admiration ; but there is a whole armory of weapons in the 
 human bosom, of more celestial temper. It is a nobler and a 
 happier thing to be capable of self-devotion, loyalty, and gene 
 rous sympathies, to cherish a quick sense of honor, and find 
 absolute comfort only in being lost in another, than to have an 
 eye for color, whereby the rainbow can be transferred to canvas, 
 or a felicity of diction that can embalm the truest pictures in 
 immortal numbers. Not only or chiefly in what he does, resides 
 the significance of a human being. His field of action and the 
 availability of his powers depend upon health, education, self- 
 reliance, position, and a thousand other agencies ; what he is 
 results from the instincts of his soul, and for these alone he is 
 truly to be loved. It is observable, among New Englanders, 
 that an individual s qualities are less frequently referred to as a 
 test of character than his performances. It is very common for 
 them to sacrifice social and private to public character, friendship 
 to fame, sympathy to opinion, love to ambition, and sentiment 
 to propriety. There is an obvious disposition among them to^ 
 appraise men and women at their market rather than their 
 intrinsic value. A lucky speculation, a profitable invention, a 
 saleable book, an effective rhetorical effort, or a sagacious politi 
 cal ruse some fact which proves, at best, only adroitness and 
 good fortune, is deemed the best escutcheon to lend dignity to 
 
 life, or hang as a lasting memorial upon the tomb. Those more 
 
 2 
 
26 THEOPTIMIST. 
 
 intimate revelations and ministries which deal with the inmost 
 gifts of mind, and warmest emotions of the heart, and through 
 which alone love and truth are realized, are but seldom dreamed 
 of in their philosophy. 
 
 There is yet another principle which seems to me but faintly 
 recognised in the New England philosophy of life, however it 
 may be occasionally cultivated as a department of literature ; 
 and yet it is one which we should deem essentially dear to man, 
 a glorious endowment, a crowning grace of humanity. It is 
 that principle through which we commune with all that is 
 lovely and grand in the universe ; which mellows the pictures of 
 memory into pensive beauty, and irradiates the visions of hope 
 with unearthly brightness ; which elevates our social experience 
 by the glow of fancy, and exhibits scenes of perfection to the 
 soul that the senses can never realize. It is the poetical princi 
 ple. If this precious gift could be wholly annihilated amid the 
 common-place and the actual, we should lose the interest of life. 
 The dull routine of daily experience, the tame reality of things, 
 would weigh like a heavy and permanent cloud upon our hearts. 
 But the office of this divine spirit is to throw a redeeming grace 
 around the objects and the scenes of being. It is the breeze 
 that lifts the weeds on the highway of time, and brings to view 
 the violets beneath. It is the holy water which, sprinkled on 
 the Mosaic pavement of life, makes vivid its brilliant tints. It 
 is the mystic harp upon whose strings the confused murmur of 
 toil, gladness, and grief, loses itself in music. But it performs 
 a yet higher function than that of consolation. It is through 
 the poetical principle that we form images of excellence, a notion 
 of progress, that quickens every other faculty to rich endeavor. 
 All great men are so chiefly through unceasing effort to realize 
 in action, or embody in art, sentiments of deep interest or ideas 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 2*7 
 
 of beauty. As colors exist in rays of light, so does the ideal in 
 the soul, and life is the mighty prism which refracts it. Shelley 
 maintains that it is only through the imagination that we can 
 overleap the barriers of self and become identified with the 
 universal and the distant ; and, therefore, that this principle is 
 the. true fountain of benevolent affections and virtue. I know it 
 is sometimes said that the era of romance has passed ; that with 
 the pastoral, classic, and chivalrous periods of the world the 
 poetic element died out. But this is manifestly a great error. 
 The forms of society have greatly changed, and the methods of 
 poetical development are much modified, but the principle itself 
 is essential to humanity. No ! mechanical as is the spirit of the 
 age, and wide as is the empire of utility, as long as the stars 
 appear nightly in the firmament, and golden clouds gather 
 around the departing sun ; as long as we can greet the innocent 
 smile of infancy and the gentle eye of woman ; as long as this 
 earth is visited by visions of glory, and dreams of love, and hopes 
 of heaven; while life is encircled by mystery, brightened by 
 affection, and solemnized by death, so long will the poetical 
 spirit be abroad, with its fervent aspirations and deep spells of 
 enchantment. Again, it is often urged that the poetical spirit 
 belongs appropriately to a certain epoch of life, and that its 
 influence naturally ceases with youth. But this can only be the 
 case through self-apostasy. The poetical element was evidently 
 intended to mingle with the whole of human experience ; not 
 only to glow in the breast of youth, but to dignify the thought 
 of manhood, and make venerable the aspect of age. Its purpose - 
 clearly is to relieve the sternness of necessity, to lighten the 
 burden of toil, and throw a sacredness and hope even around 
 suffering as the old painters were wont to depict groups of 
 cherubs above their martyrdoms. Nor can I believe that the 
 
28 THEOPTIMIST. 
 
 agency of this principle is so confined and temporary as many 
 suppose. It is true our contemplation of the beautiful is of 
 short duration, our flights into the ideal world brief and occa 
 sional. We can but bend in passing at the altar of beauty, and 
 pluck a flower hastily by the way-side ; but may there not be 
 an instinct which eagerly appropriates even these transitory 
 associations ? May they not be unconsciously absorbed into the 
 essence of our life, and gradually refine and exalt the spirit 
 within us ? I cannot think that such rich provision for the 
 poetic sympathies is intended for any casual or indifferent end. 
 Rather let us believe there is a mystic language in the flowers, 
 and a deep meaning in the stars, that the transparency of the 
 winter air and the long sweetness of summer twilight pass, with 
 imperceptible power, over the soul; rather let us cherish the 
 thought that the absorbing emotions of love, the sweet excite 
 ment of adventure, and the impassioned solemnity of grief, with 
 a kind of spiritual chemistry, combine and purify the inward 
 elements into nobler action and more perfect results. Of the 
 poetical principle, the philosophy of life, in New England, makes 
 little account. Emblems of the past do not invite our gaze 
 down the vistas of time. Reverence is seldom awakened by any 
 object, custom, or association. The new, the equal, the attain 
 able, constantly deaden our faith in infinite possibilities. Life 
 rarely seems miraculous, and the common-place abounds. 
 There is much to excite, and little to chasten and awe. We 
 need to see the blessedness of a rational conservatism, as well as 
 the inspiring call for reform. There are venerable and lovely 
 agencies in this existence of ours which it is sacrilege to scorn. 
 The wisdom of our renowned leaders in all departments is too 
 restless and conscious to be desirable ; and it would be better 
 for our boasted " march of mind," if, like the quaint British 
 
NEW ENGLAND PHILOSOPHY. 29 
 
 X 
 
 essayist, a few more " were dragged along in the procession." 
 An extravagant spirit of utility invades every scene of life how 
 ever sequestered. We attempt not to brighten the grim features 
 of care, or relieve the burdens of responsibility. The daughter 
 of n distinguished law professor in Europe was in the habit of 
 lecturing in her father s absence. To guard against the fascina 
 tion of her charms, which it was feared would divert the atten 
 tion of the students, a curtain was drawn before the fair teacher, 
 from behind which she imparted her instructions. Thus do we 
 carefully keep out of sight the poetical and veil the spirit of 
 beauty, that we may worship undisturbed at the shrine of the 
 practical. We ever seek the light of knowledge ; but are con 
 tent that no fertilizing warmth lend vitality to its beams. 
 
 When the returning pilgrim approaches the shores of the 
 new world, the first sign of the vicinity of his native land is 
 traced in hues of rare glory on the western sky. The sunsets 
 grow more and more gorgeous as he draws near, and while he 
 leans over the bulwarks of a gallant vessel (whose matchless 
 architecture illustrates the mechanical skill of her birth-place), 
 and watches their shifting brilliancy, it associates itself with the 
 fresh promise and young renown of his native land ; and when 
 from the wide solitude of the Atlantic, he plunges once more 
 amid her eager crowds, it is with the earnest, and I must think, 
 patriotic wish, that with her prosperous activity might mingle 
 more of the poetry of life ! 
 
 But what the arrangements of society fail to provide, the 
 individual is at liberty to seek. Nowhere are natural beauty 
 and grandeur more lavishly displayed than on this continent. 
 In no part of the world are there such noble rivers, beautiful 
 lakes, and magnificent forests. The ermine robe of winter is in 
 no land spread with more dazzling effect, nor can the woodlands 
 
30 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 of any clime present a more varied array of autumnal tints. 
 Nor need we resort to the glories of the universe alone. Domes 
 tic life exists with us in rare perfection ; and it requires but the 
 heroism of sincerity and the exercise of taste, to make the fire 
 side as rich in poetical associations as the terrace and verandah 
 of southern lands. Literature, too, opens a rich field. We can 
 wander through Eden to the music of the blind bard s harp, or 
 listen in the orange groves of Verona, beneath the quiet moon 
 light, to the sweet vows of Juliet. Let us, then, bravely obey 
 our sympathies, and find in candid and devoted relations with 
 others, freedom from the constraints of prejudice and form. 
 Let us foster the enthusiasm which exclusive intellectual cultiva 
 tion would extinguish. Let us detach ourselves sufficiently 
 from the social machinery to realize that we are not integral 
 parts of it ; and thus summon into the horizon of destiny those 
 hues of beauty, love, and truth, which are the most glorious 
 reflections of the soul. 
 
31 
 
 TRAVEL. 
 
 " Kind things, however trivial, reach the heart, 
 And through the heart the head, clearing away 
 The narrow notions that grow up at home, 
 And in their place grafting good-will to all." 
 
 ROGERS. 
 
 OUR times might not inaptly be designated as the age of 
 travelling. Its records form no insignificant branch of the 
 literature of the day. Irving s most graphic ability is displayed 
 in his pictures of Spain and England, and all the poetry of 
 Lamartine s mind has been lavished on his sketches of the Holy 
 Land. Steam is annihilating space, and even the devotee of 
 business begins to find it more expeditious to transact his f< >reign 
 affairs in person than by letter. The ocean, once a formidable 
 barrier, not to be traversed without long preparation and from, 
 urgent necessity, now seems to inspire no more consideration 
 than a goodly lake, admirably adapted to summer excursions. 
 Travelling is changed from an isolated pilgrimage to a kind of 
 triumphal procession. Anciently the sage made lonely journeys 
 in search of knowledge, the crusader roamed far to do battle, 
 the apostle to spread truth, and the knight to seek adventures. 
 Caravans of voyagers are now winding, as it were, on the wings 
 of the wind, round the habitable globe. Here they glide over 
 cultivated acres on rods of iron, and there they rise and fall on 
 the bosom of the deep, leaving behind them a foaming wheel- 
 track like the chariot path of a sea-god. To-day the traveller 
 
32 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 may be discussing stocks or politics in a railroad car of New 
 England, and in two weeks he is asleep in the corner of a French 
 Diligence. There is one very obvious reason for the increase of 
 travel in modern times. It is one of the few adventurous 
 resources that remain to a prosaic epoch. It seems peculiarly 
 desirable that a period should be set apart between youth and 
 the time when life s serious business absorbs every active 
 impulse, for a breathing season to the spirit. It seems right to 
 secure in the spring-time of being, an interval during which 
 youth shall be free to go forth and " with an eye of leisure look 
 on all " the grandeur and beauty of the universe ; mingle freely 
 with his kind, and weave ties of affection with all the trophies 
 that antiquity has hallowed, humanity consecrated, and art 
 adorned. There is a strong and innate repugnance to routine 
 in the young heart. It is a sad thought to the aspiring soul 
 that its whole experience shall occur upon one scene and be 
 made up of unvarying events. " He took great content," says 
 old Burton, " exceeding delight in that his voyage, as who doth 
 not as shall attempt the like ? For peregrination charms our 
 senses with such unspeakable and sweet variety, that some count 
 him unhappy that never travelled, a kind of prisoner, and pity 
 his case, that from his cradle to his old age, he beholds the 
 same still ; still, still, the same, the same !" The increasing 
 facilities of travel are, indeed, rapidly diminishing its interest and 
 excitement. The multitude are rushing over the hallowed 
 ground of the earth, and many a precious flower is trampled 
 beneath their ruthless feet. Peculiarities of costume, interesting 
 observances, all that is picturesque and striking in national 
 character, wear gradually away in the whirl of promiscuous 
 intercourse. Still the novelties of art, the contrasting features 
 of nature, and much that is absolutely indigenous in the different 
 
TRAVEL. 33 
 
 races of men, are sufficiently alluring to beguile us from the 
 monotonous experience of home. And we enjoy an especial 
 privilege in visiting Europe. To no civilized people is the 
 contrast greater or the points of interest more striking. From 
 the old tower built in the reign of Francis I. at the entrance of 
 the dock of Havre de Grace to the Pyramids of Egypt, the 
 American traveller enjoys an uninterrupted series of fresh and 
 powerful impressions. 
 
 The very advancement in knowledge which this age has 
 achieved, quickens curiosity. The broad light which popular 
 education has spread abroad, has revealed to human eyes and 
 hearts, such glimpses of the beauty and interest of the world, 
 that, where there is a particle of soul, there springs up an earnest 
 desire to explore creation and commune with man. The 
 newly-developed passion for travel is, then, to a certain extent at 
 least, an evidence of mental activity. So, also, in no small 
 degree, it may be traced to a benevolent spirit. There has been 
 a union of mind effected by literature and philanthropic enter 
 prise of late years unparalleled in human history. And the 
 natural consequence is that our sympathies are more extended. 
 Common objects of pursuit and congeniality of tastes now unite 
 men of different countries, and we feel in departing for distant 
 lands that attractions there await the affections as well as the 
 intellect. We hail, then, this display of the travelling 
 propensity as an auspicious sign. In this view, it is, as yet, not 
 sufficiently estimated. The mere pursuit of pleasure or the spur 
 of necessity enters too largely into the motives of modern 
 travellers, to make their pilgrimage either dignified in aspect or 
 fertile in results. A worthy object and a true spirit are essential 
 to render travel what it should be, and when thus inspired, its 
 records contain some of the most beautiful episodes in human 
 
 2* 
 
34 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 experience. The lives of eminent men furnish abundant 
 evidence of the peculiar benefits of travel. Milton was evidently 
 indebted to his sojourn in Italy for much of his imagery and 
 largeness of views. The dense foliage of Vallambrosa, the 
 beautiful view from Fiesole, the arts, the music and literary 
 intercourse with the Italians of his age, left lasting and 
 invaluable impressions. He mentions among the requisites for 
 the great work he so long meditated, " a steady observation and 
 insight into all seemly and generous arts and affairs ;" and was 
 contented to live with great economy to atone for his expensive 
 "voyaging about." It has even been conjectured that Shak- 
 speare, in early life, visited the same classic scenes. He betrays 
 a familiarity with the characteristics of cities, the furniture of 
 palaces, local manners, and especially with the old law of 
 betrothment in Katherine and Petrucio, rather too intimate, it 
 has been thought, to have been gleaned wholly from books. 
 He speaks with the fondness of an old resident of " fair Padua, 
 the nursery of arts," " fruitful Lombardy, the pleasant garden of 
 all Italy," and " Pisa renowned for grave citizens." There are, 
 at all events, strong reasons to believe that he experienced a 
 sea-voyage. But his imagination was so vivid and universal 
 that the records of travellers furnished him with pictures little 
 short of reality ; he became the companion of their wanderings 
 by virtue of the rare and quick sympathy which opened to him 
 all the treasures of nature, and made every man a brother. He 
 had small need of travel who could conjure up at will so lovely 
 an island and such marvellous people as compose the Tempest. 
 Petrarch was a constant wanderer, and Dante s poem abounds 
 with local reminiscences. -Adventure and novel scenes feed the 
 poetic soul. Cervantes gathered the materials of his works 
 during years of foreign service. We can trace the noble publi c spi rit 
 
TRAVEL. 35 
 
 of Evelyn, to whom England is indebted for her forest trees, to 
 the influence of his early journeyings. The love of travel was 
 a distinguishing trait of Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Bacon, and 
 Sir Thomas Browne. The great Alfred employed people to 
 travel to satisfy his curiosity respecting distant countries. 
 
 Individual taste is strikingly manifested in travel. Scott cared 
 little for the Roman remains, but was instantly attracted by 
 every feudal tower. Dr. Johnson said, if he were to travel, 
 convents would interest him more than palaces. Manners and 
 scenery, arts and literature, statistics and localities, attract men 
 of different fancies. But there is one common altar at which 
 the sympathies of all noble travellers are kindled. They soon 
 become converts to the opinion that " a beautiful face is the 
 finest of spectacles." They learn more highly to appreciate that 
 sex whose condition in every land forms the standard by which 
 they estimate its degree of civilization. They insensibly acquire, 
 if they never before possessed, something of that chivalric 
 estimate of woman which breathed in the lay of the troubadour 
 and nerved the arm of knighthood. This sentiment may, 
 indeed, be vivified by the novel circumstances under which she 
 is revealed to the wanderer as a nun or an improvisatrice, 
 amid the sweet solemnity of a cathedral, beneath the awning of 
 a gondola, or in the balmy atmosphere of an orange-grove. 
 His romantic dreams may be buoyed up and irradiated by 
 unaccustomed scenes or novel manners ; but they are offcener 
 nurtured by that genial kindness which prompts the cheering 
 salutation of the passing peasant girl, which sustains the almost 
 maternal vigil of the hostess by the sick couch of the wanderer, 
 and leads the refined and lovely to smile so charitably upon his 
 colloquial blunders. It is the sweet prerogative of woman to 
 throw around the traveller s sojourn, the endearing associations 
 
36 THEOPTIMIST. 
 
 of home ; to lift from his heart all consciousness of isolation, and 
 brighten every link of his " lengthening chain " with golden 
 memories. 
 
 The acquisitions of no man are largely available until in 
 some measure realized by experiment. Knowledge acquired by 
 the slow and artificial process of reading is not only often a mere 
 isolated benefit, but sometimes an absolute injury to its posses 
 sor. It is happy for men of an inquiring turn that life is so 
 ordered that they are compelled to take part in its struggles. 
 " Continual plodders" have won little but " base authority." 
 Pedantry is one of the most unlovable of human qualities. 
 How often may be applied to the merely learned the sad 
 reproach in Wallenstein : 
 
 " Thy wisdom hath been proved a thriftless friend 
 To thine ownself. See, it has made thee early 
 A superannuated man and (but 
 That my munificent stars should intervene) 
 Would let thee in some miserable corner, 
 Go out like an untended lamp." 
 
 Health, too, often perishes in chasing the " weary honors." 
 Buoyancy departs from the spirit, and bloom from the cheek. 
 The ambition of scholarship, when it absolutely possesses the 
 mind, is often a gloomy barrier, dividing its votary from the 
 tender humanities and cheerful haunts of his race. But the 
 wisdom born of observation, the lore gathered in conversation, in 
 contemplating the phases of society, in noting the phenomena 
 of life, neither bows the frame nor indurates the heart. ISTo 
 man can garner such fruits except by social activity, which pro 
 motes cheerfulness and health, and keeps the better sympathies 
 in constant exercise. They are gleaned in an atmosphere of 
 
TRAVEL. 37 
 
 love and opinion. The process employs the whole nature, 
 instead of tasking the mind alone. And this experimental 
 knowledge leavens the dead lump of mere erudition. Life is 
 imparted to what was before inert ; and the most valuable of 
 abstract ideas are enlivened by the interest of personal experi 
 ence. Of this valuable wisdom travel is the prolific source. It 
 is the cant of the day to reverence abstractions. But if there is 
 any self-evident truth, it is that we are created to be moved 
 within by impressions from without. There is, indeed, an 
 " electric chain," but it must be struck. We read, for instance, 
 of feudal times, when art, chivalry, and commerce blended their 
 agency in impressing the face of society ; and the elements of 
 civilized life were but rudely organized. Our vague ideas of 
 this epoch become, as it were, real and definite, after an observ 
 ing sojourn in such a city as Florence ; where we behold the 
 old towers reared as a defence and a distinction, the massive 
 architecture and grated windows that render the dwelling a forti 
 fied castle, the stone seats beside the palace gates, where the 
 retainers sat, and the very rings to which the standards of fac 
 tion or the banners of families were attached. In the salutations 
 and domestic intercourse of the people we trace, as we never 
 can in books, the old familiar and friendly intercourse of differ 
 ent classes, and recognise not a little of the ancient spirit of 
 allegiance and " the heart of courtesy." We read, too, of the 
 Inquisition, but how is our impression of its influence deepened 
 by tracing its effects in the grave bearing of the Spaniards ! 
 Titian s portraits have been well called true history, and the 
 Ducal palace at Venice embodies and illustrates the peculiarities 
 of her ancient government If much of the true sense and 
 meaning of the past is undefined in our minds, by thus com 
 muning with its monuments, we attain not a little of its essence 
 
38 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 and sentiment. Lord Byron studied the classics and read 
 history in his youth. Were the facts and fables gathered in 
 those early studies the same to him after his visit to Greece and 
 Italy, as before ? Did not the scenery, the climate, the touching 
 ruins, the glorious arts that there appealed to his senses, 
 awaken dormant memories, and brighten into a glorious reality 
 the memorable scenes of the past ? Was Caasar the same, in 
 the poet s imagination, after he had wandered over the palace- 
 ruins on the Palatine ? Were the combats of the amphitheatre 
 as dream-like when he looked from the weedy corridors of the 
 Coliseum or mused beside the statue of the dying gladiator ? 
 Was Sappho brought no nearer to his fancy by a visit to the 
 " Isles of Greece ?" Childe Harold s Pilgrimage furnishes the 
 best reply. Many of the most striking circumstances recorded 
 in the Chronicle of Granada, might have been written out of 
 Spain, but could Irving have woven so picturesque and charm 
 ing a narrative without those romantic reveries and quiet adven 
 tures that blest his sojourn at the Alhambra? Madame de 
 Stael could have studied the literature of Germany without 
 journeying thither, but how life-like and comprehensive the 
 whole subject became when she had mingled with the literati 
 of Weimar, and grown familiar with the scenery of the Rhine. 
 Travel gives a character of experience to our knowledge, and 
 brings the figures upon the tablet of memory into strong relief. 
 To fully understand Petrarch, one should have breathed the air 
 of an Italian spring. We may have often wondered at the 
 vain glorious autobiography of Cellini, but the acquaintance of 
 one Italian, with a large organ of self-esteem, illustrates the 
 character at once. A northern reader of Shakspeare attributes 
 wholly to the poet s fancy the extravagant similes of Romeo 
 and the irrepressible passion of Juliet. A single observation of 
 
TRAVEL. 39 
 
 youthful love in Southern Europe will transfer the characters 
 from the domain of imagination to that of real life ; and we 
 know that in the age of Elizabeth, a frankness and heartiness 
 prevailed analogous to what we at present denominate southern 
 manners. The inhabitants of cold latitudes are astonished that 
 the peasantry about Vesuvius and Etna should contentedly 
 build their huts on the lava and near the wrecks of former 
 eruptions. A few summer days passed in those regions would 
 induce a placidity of mood, a repose upon destiny, and a dalli 
 ance with the passing moment, that might explain the delusion. 
 Not only from the life it imparts to previous knowledge, but 
 on account of the actual teaching it affords, the experience of 
 travel is invaluable. I speak not so much of detached facts as 
 regards population, manufactures, and the statistics of political 
 economy; these may often be learned from the pages of an 
 Encyclopaedia. There is a species of information scarcely to be 
 gathered in the study, or if so attained, but inadequately real 
 ized, and therefore without effect. It is that series of facts and 
 impressions, those general ideas which go to form what may be 
 called a philosophy of life. The standard by which the untra- 
 velled measure their destiny is generally local. Y/ith them, the 
 world of books and the real world are totally unconnected. It 
 is only by throwing ourselves, as it were, into the ocean-tide of 
 humanity, that we can obtain a glance at the great laws of life. 
 When we have wandered into distant lands, and seen the same 
 mysterious destiny shared by millions of similar beings ; when 
 we have heard the prayers, joined the festivities, witnessed the 
 loves, and shuddered at the crimes of different nations, we gain, 
 as it were, a new conviction of the universality of the system of 
 things under which we live. We perceive that our lot is not 
 peculiar. We recognise, with new sensibility, a power sustain- 
 
40 THEOPTIMIST. 
 
 ing and guiding this immense community of spirits, and we fall 
 back upon this primitive truth with an unwonted trust and a 
 profound reverence. Those who surround a man in his own 
 country are, as it were, but repetitions of himself. Familiarity 
 renders him blind to the characteristics of his nature which they 
 teach him. In strange communities, however, the traits of cha 
 racter are so modified as to be striking. And thus it often 
 happens that a traveller is indebted to his absence for his most 
 valuable self-knowledge. Abroad, too, he is thrown upon his 
 own resources. He feels, perhaps, for the first time, that " he 
 is a stranger and a pilgrim on the earth." And in this expe 
 rience there is permanent advantage. The will acquires new 
 force, for its exercise is necessary to maintain his position and 
 prosecute his purposes. The perceptive powers are called into 
 more intense action, for he is required to observe where novelty 
 excites, and information must be rapidly acquired. The great 
 lesson of self-dependence is learned in travel if it is learned at 
 all ; for however friendless a man s position may be in his own 
 country, the very familiarity of things will yield him no little 
 support. But when all accustomed props are withdrawn and 
 the scene is changed to a far-off land, to his own mind must the 
 traveller look for his means of success ; to his own capacities of 
 self-government and social influence, for those aids and appli 
 ances essential to rational enjoyment. What latent energy and 
 heroic perseverance did travel call forth in such men as Mungo 
 Park, Bruce, Ledyard, and Belzoni ! If a man s past education 
 has been neglected, his energies previously un tasked, travel will 
 surely make the misfortune felt. The lessons spread before him 
 in an unexplored volume of nature and man, will present but a 
 confused or blank page, if there is no reflective habit to unlock 
 its stores, no generous sympathies to give interest to its details, 
 
TRAVEL. 41 
 
 no well-considered principles to illumine its obscurity. As the 
 unfortunate Casper Hauser was incapable of motion or speech 
 when released from his long imprisonment, so the uninformed 
 and weak can neither enjoy personal progress nor elevating 
 communion, when ushered unattended upon the highway of the 
 world. 
 
 The phrenologists tell us of an organ of locality, and there is 
 no respect in which men differ more widely than in what may 
 be called a sensibility to place. Upon some, local change 
 makes little impression. They seem incapable of exhausting the 
 interest of their native spot, or rather, are wholly indifferent to 
 place as such. Others are so constituted as to find the greatest 
 delight in exploring new scenes. They become inexpressibly 
 weary of one set of objects, and will make astonishing sacrifices 
 to obtain the refreshment of a change. Hence the pleasure 
 which so many shiftless wanderers have derived, a delight quite 
 inexplicable to those who are too enamored of the comfortable 
 and familiar to move from their chimney-nooks. By virtue of 
 this native interest in localities, the memory is astonishingly 
 vivid. Places visited years by-gone are recalled in all their fea 
 tures by an effort of the will. In the weary night-watches which 
 accompany a slow convalescence, the mind, when too prostrate 
 to grapple with abstract ideas, easily invokes the scenes of its 
 past experience. The very flavor of fruits or wine peculiar to a 
 province, the odors, the sights, the sounds of a country come 
 back upon the senses with a marvellous freshness. In this 
 manner, the traveller with a large organ of locality and sufficient 
 imagination, as he lies feeble and impatient amid the silence 
 and shadows of a sick room, revisits in fancy the lands he once 
 traversed with delight. The scenery, the faces of his old com- 
 
42 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 panions, and the incidents of his pilgrimage, re-appear to cheat 
 confinement of its weariness and suffering of its gloom. 
 
 Among the pleasures of the traveller is to be reckoned the 
 consideration he enjoys. If the persons with whom he comes 
 in contact interest him from their novel manners or opinions, he 
 presents to them a similar attraction. He is a specimen of a 
 different race. His personal experience, the institutions under 
 which he has lived, the views in which he has been educated, 
 have modified his merely human characteristics. In some point 
 of knowledge or character he presents an aspect of superiority ; 
 and then, too, he is a stranger, one who will bear from these 
 new scenes permanent impressions. Hence, by the kindly and 
 intelligent he is regarded with interest, and if of a cordial dis 
 position, cannot fail to realize the charms of hospitality, and to 
 win esteem and love. He may thus be enabled to speak with 
 an authority never before granted him. His claims to regard 
 are recognised as they never were among his familiars. What 
 is individual in him is seen and acknowledged among men as it 
 never was at home. " A prophet is not without honor save in 
 his own country," is a saying of holy origin. The traveller 
 soon feels its truth, and it may cheer him through life to have 
 thus had his legitimate claims cordially recognised. There is 
 often a disposition to sneer at the pretensions, however humble, 
 which a man makes in his native place. There his influence is 
 seldom great. He passes not for what he his worth. Thrown 
 among his kind, away from the influence of familiarity and pre 
 judice, free scope is afforded him, and the true man is, perhaps 
 for the first time, fairly revealed to his fellows. A learned 
 friend of Boccacio was accustomed in Italy to call himself a 
 Greek, and in Greece, an Italian, being persuaded that in both 
 
TRAVEL. 43 
 
 countries it was honorable to pass for a stranger. Even Milton 
 was first appreciated abroad. When a youth, unknown to fame, 
 his genius was warmly acknowledged by the Italians, whereas 
 he was not renowned in England until long after the appearance 
 of his Paradise Lost. Who shall say that it was not among 
 strangers that he conceived the idea of a work which the world 
 should " not willingly let die ?" 
 
 There are few more touching instances of the fragility of 
 delight than that afforded by an ardent traveller, too ill to enjoy 
 the charms which surround him. To gaze on the richest scenery 
 and breathe the balmiest air, yet be prevented by pain from 
 realizing their blessedness ; to stand amid beautiful ruins, with 
 a mind so unnerved by physical weakness as not to luxuriate in 
 their associations ; to climb the volcano, only to sink breathless 
 on its summit ; wander to where the greenest hills are canopied 
 by the most azure skies, only to die when life is arrayed in new 
 beauty ; to pause with a throbbing brow before a miracle of 
 art, or tread with a quivering pulse the magnificent aisle of a 
 church is to know by experience the sufferings of Tantalus. 
 Yet thus daily do the grandeur of St. Peter s, the gaiety of the 
 Palais Royal, and the loveliness of the Bay of Naples, fall, with 
 a melancholy contrast, upon the heart of suffering. Thus 
 mingling the glory of nature with the weakness of humanity 
 did the Last Minstrel traverse the land of song ; thus breathing 
 his last sigh in the regions of poetry, died the gifted Keats. 
 
 The necessity of economy in travelling, as in other arrange 
 ments of life, often proves a blessing ; for much comfort and 
 independence may contravene the most desirable influences of 
 journeying. I have often noted with compassion the equipage 
 of a rich Englishman on the continent. Day after day he pro 
 ceeds rapidly through a new and picturesque country, of which 
 
44 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 he takes no note save by an occasional glance from the window. 
 Occupied with a book, or half asleep on his rich cushions, he 
 suffers himself to be whirled from place to place, holding com 
 munion only with his servant, seeking in silence a solitary 
 apartment at the inns, and ever carrying with him the associa 
 tions and customs of home. On the same road, perhaps, his 
 poorer countryman, a pensioned artist or invalid student, is 
 ensconced in a lumbering old coach, with half-a-dozen natives, 
 who point out to him the interesting localities, afford him speci 
 mens of the people, and by their conversation and manners 
 unfold continually striking features of national character. It is 
 well to be thus forced into contact with men and things. If 
 one so situated has a teachable disposition, he cannot but 
 improve. At all events, the pedestrian and the traveller by 
 public conveyance gains an insight which the luxurious egotist 
 seldom acquires. He imbibes a foreign atmosphere, and feels 
 himself in a new position. The desired experiment is fairly 
 tried. To " cast ourselves into the rushing of time, into the 
 rolling of accident," is one of the true objects of travel. We 
 wander in order to subject ourselves to new agencies. We 
 roam to enlarge our experience, to commune with what is 
 foreign, and not obstinately to entrench ourselves in home pecu 
 liarities, or rather be dragged onward, while in thought and 
 feeling we are stationary, absorbed in personal views by the 
 thrall of habit. 
 
 Much is said of the pertness and prejudice of travellers. 
 Upon weak minds, " voyaging about," doubtless, has as ill an 
 effect as shallow draughts of learning. But such form the excep 
 tion, not the rule. Characters of this order are as likely to be 
 spoiled at home as abroad. - They are finely satirized in " As 
 you Like it." "Farewell, monsieur traveller," said Rosalind, 
 
TRAVEL. 45 
 
 " look you lisp, and wear strange suits ; disable all the benefits 
 of your own country ; be out of love with your nativity, or I 
 will scarce think you have swam in a gondola." There is, how 
 ever, a certain narrow spirit sometimes indulged towards 
 returned travellers, especially if they are of an enthusiastic turn, 
 and prone to dwell upon their experiences. Such converse is 
 at once set down by these cavillers to conceit and assurance, 
 whereas it not infrequently springs from an honest admiration 
 and tasteful ardor. To men of liberal feeling and enlightened 
 curiosity, nothing is more interesting than to learn the impres 
 sions derived from travel. Far from ridiculing, they encourage 
 the ardent reminiscences of one fresh from foreign scenes, delight 
 in his conversation, and sympathize in his feelings, as being both 
 natural and worthy. Next to visiting interesting places, is the 
 pleasure of hearing a friend describe and discuss them. When 
 a man talks ostentatiously of the illustrious acquaintances he 
 has formed abroad, or boasts of his achievements, he is fairly 
 exposed to ridicule. But when one speaks from a full heart of 
 the aspects of nature, of glorious productions of art, of social 
 traits and stirring associations ; when one in kindness and 
 honesty endeavors to make others share the impressions of a 
 pilgrimage, whoever listens with an ill-concealed sneer, convicts 
 himself of gross illiberality, and should become a traveller him 
 self to acquire more generous sentiments. 
 
 There is no small discipline involved in travel. In no expe 
 rience of life are the trials of patience more severe. He whose 
 serenity is not proof against petty vexations, who cannot brook 
 the frequent interruption of his convenience, and smile at occa 
 sional imposition, had better not quit the regulated circle of his 
 own sphere. To be a good traveller argues one no ordinary 
 philosopher. A sweet landscape must sometimes be allowed to 
 
46 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 atone for an indifferent supper, and an interesting ruin charm 
 away the remembrance of a hard bed. Entrance to a large city 
 is not infrequently purchased at the expense of provoking 
 delays at custom-houses and passport offices ; and glimpses of a 
 classic stream purling along in the moonlight, is often the only 
 circumstance which alleviates the chill weariness of a night-jaunt. 
 We must sometimes allow the bland face of a peasant saluting 
 the passing carriage, to mitigate the annoyance of disagreeable 
 companionship, and invoke cheerful memories to brighten a 
 dreary prospect. In a word, a good-natured spirit, a determina 
 tion not to be annoyed, and an urbanity of soul quick to recog 
 nise the agreeable and dwell upon the "silver lining of every 
 cloud," must be the prevailing mood of the traveller. With 
 this he may defy quarantines and passports, cheating landlords 
 and by-way accidents. A pilgrimage is an admirable remedy 
 for over-fastidiousness and sickly refinement. Happy for the 
 traveller if he have something of Goldsmith s humor, and 
 Lamb s sensibility to the amusing. Then shall the very mishaps 
 of his wayfaring provoke a smile, and not a face or incident, 
 cross his path without yielding a moral or furnishing a picture. 
 Besides these minor troubles travel gives occasion for more grave 
 disquietudes. There are times when the lot of a stranger 
 weighs heavily upon the heart, when an unwonted yearning for the 
 familiar takes possession of the mind. Sitting in the silent 
 chamber of his inn before seeking the solace of society or sight 
 seeing, the newly-arrived traveller is often conscious of a solitude 
 more profound than that of the desert. There is sometimes a 
 sense of loneliness inspired by the eager multitudes of strange 
 cities, almost sublime in its desolation. The mighty tide of 
 human life seems rushing by, and the lone pilgrim is like an 
 " ocean-weed cast on the shore." Not an eye meets his with 
 
TRAVEL. 4*7 
 
 familiarity, or friendliness in its glance. Not an accustomed tone 
 salutes his ear. Not a heart beats responsive to his own. He 
 is alone in the midst of his kind. Hirelings only betray a 
 selfish interest in his person. He wanders amid the hum of 
 business, he hears the converse of friendship, he sees the tokens 
 of domestic enjoyment, but he is a stranger ; and if death should 
 then overtake him not a tear will there moisten his grave not 
 a sigh be wafted to his memory. This detached feeling this 
 consciousness of isolation, may, indeed, be rarely experienced, 
 and is usually put to flight with ease ; but it may be fairly 
 accounted among the trials of travel, and when health and 
 resources fail, is susceptible of terrible aggravation. Another and 
 more common drawback to the traveller s enjoyment, is the 
 necessity of breaking away from delightfu^scenes just as associ 
 ation has endeared them, and yielding up congenial society and 
 cherished friends when habit had made them almost necessary 
 to happiness. Where the temper is sanguine, abundance of 
 disappointment awaits the traveller. The objects that allure 
 him have been too long familiar to his fancy not to make the 
 first impression painful. Anticipation has perhaps absolutely 
 precluded the zest of enjoyment. " Distance has lent " so great 
 an " enchantment to the view," that the illusion is not dispelled 
 without a rending of the most valued associations. Disgust too 
 often usurps the place of delight. And then it is well to 
 consider how much the traveller s pleasure depends upon 
 circumstances, which it is impossible to foresee or contravene. 
 The face of a wo-begone beggar may poison the most exquisite 
 meal. The market near the Pantheon may prevent the specta 
 tor from enjoying its architecture ; a misty day may spoil the 
 finest view on the Rhine ; a headache prevent all laughing at 
 the carnival ; a cicerone s gabble annihilate the quiet eloquence 
 
48 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 of a Madonna s smile, and a hard mule preclude rapt devotion 
 to the scenery of the Alps. 
 
 Travel is the great teacher of liberality, A limited sphere of 
 observation is unfavorable to the attainment of generous views. 
 A rare combination of benevolent feeling and good sense is 
 requisite to counteract the narrowing influences of local preju 
 dice. For this and similar defects of character, the extended 
 prospect which travel opens is the readiest remedy. Can a 
 man of taste and sensibility mingle at large with the world and 
 not insensibly acquire more liberal habits of thought ? When he 
 has sojourned for weeks amid the solemn loneliness of "old 
 ocean s grey and melancholy waste," threaded the motley crowds 
 of a hundred towns, and gazed upon a long procession of princes 
 and peasants will he not lose all sense of petty distinctions, 
 and look upon his race with an " infinite pity, an infinite love ?" 
 Will the sacred shrines of genius and the mighty fields of his 
 tory inspire no new interest in man ? When he discovers that 
 " stranger is a holy name " in every clime, will not the convic 
 tion awaken and confirm the feeling of human brotherhood ? It 
 is next to impossible to be brought into contact with a vast 
 number of individuals, to enter into the peculiarities of foreign 
 experience, to lavish thought and sympathy over a large sphere, 
 without mental expansion. How many of Dr. Johnson s preju 
 dices would have faded away, had he grown familiar with other 
 lands and modified his partiality for Fleet street. How much 
 of the stationary civilization of the Chinese is attributable to 
 their obstinate habits of non-intercourse. The Venetians were 
 among the earliest European travellers, and they were long 
 celebrated for their respect for strangers. There is a compre 
 hensiveness of view, a superiority to the trifling and the mean, 
 
T B A VE L. 49 
 
 and an enlarged intelligence, which is one of the most valuable 
 results of travel. The happy disposition and culture, or social 
 circumstances of individuals, may enable them to arrive at the 
 same end by different means ; but they form exceptions to a 
 general rule. The confined walls of a familiar sphere fall before 
 the traveller s eyes, and he looks forth to the far horizon. He 
 recognises the whole world of Nature as his inheritance, and 
 hails every man as a brother. Intolerance, contempt, 
 unfounded judgments, the whole train of mean associations that 
 mar the fairness of his spirit, fly away as night-birds at the 
 approach of dawn. He has learned to behold the signatures 
 of truth, to appreciate the influence of circumstances, to overlook 
 the boundaries of sect, and pierce the veil of condition. A 
 thoughtful inspection of life, on a large scale, has reduced the 
 exaggerated aspect of his selfish aims to their due proportion. 
 Memorials of the past have taught him more calmly to estimate 
 an existence whose duration is so transitory ; and to cherish 
 those brave and elevated sentiments which alone can redeem it 
 to a noble nature. His vain confidence vanishes before the 
 majestic evidences of infinite wisdom. The mystery of life 
 comes home to his mind. The limits of knowledge grow pain 
 fully obvious to his wider vision ; and he comes to look habitu 
 ally around him, with an inquiring mind ever open to conviction, 
 and a heart touched with veneration and love. Truth is nearer 
 such a spirit ; progression certainly is its destiny. Literature 
 and society are henceforth liberally interpreted. A humane 
 eclecticism takes the place of a partial creed. The bonds which 
 custom and arbitrary discipline had riveted upon the young 
 soul are riven asunder, and it goes forth with a lofty indepen 
 dence, a freedom of thought, a catholic spirit. The dread of 
 mere human opinion is conquered. Reverence turns freely to 
 
50 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 congenial objects, to the truly great in humanity, to the benig 
 nant authority of Heaven. The pilgrim, emancipated from 
 social tyranny, yields only to the impulse of personal conviction, 
 and follows no luminary but the star of Truth. 
 
 We are all seekers. In every human breast there are strong 
 and various desires, more or less defined, and all forbidding 
 repose. To action we naturally turn to allay this restlessness 
 of spirit ; and there seems, in such cases, an almost instinctive 
 disposition to seek in change of place the refreshment we crave. 
 Hence that beautiful adjuration of the Psalmist, " that I had 
 the wings of a dove, that I might fly away and be at rest." 
 We know that wherever we go our consciousness remains : 
 
 ** Still to ourselves in every place consigned, 
 Our own felicity we make or find." 
 
 But the perceptive faculties are so exercised in travel, novelty is 
 so sweet an excitement, and the very sense of progress from 
 place to place, so soothing, that we cannot wonder that so many 
 ardent and sensitive men have been wanderers. " In travelling," 
 says the poet Rogers, " we multiply events, and innocently." 
 " I have discovered," says the bard of Laura, " that change of 
 place is the only thing which can long keep us from that 
 weariness which is inseparable from a sedentary life ;" and we 
 know how often he loved to exchange the quiet solitude of 
 Vaucluse for the excitement of an embassy. Until he became 
 a tragic writer, the earnest soul of Alfieri found its chief solace 
 in travel. Byron obeyed a poetical impulse when he turned to 
 foreign scenes as the associations of home became painful or 
 vapid. Dante, wrapt in the mantle of stern endurance, found 
 some relief for his poignant sense of injury in roaming from 
 court to court. Travel furnishes genial aliment to the poetic 
 
TRAVEL. 51 
 
 soul. It has been well said that " a genius for poetry is nothing 
 but a finer liability to impressions, but what matters the 
 liability if we do not put ourselves in the way of thoughts and 
 feelings that are to impress us ?" 
 
 Travel deepens the sense of nationality. We hear much of 
 the foreign tastes acquired abroad, and are apt to deduct from 
 a traveller s patriotism in the ratio of his enthusiasm for distant 
 countries. This is a great error. Perhaps no man is fully 
 aware of the reality of his love of country, until he knows the 
 lot of a stranger. His local and political partialities may have 
 warmed him, at home, into a partizan orator ; but when the sea 
 once divides him from his country, he clings to his citizenship 
 with unwonted pride ; he feels, as never before, a high and 
 delicate sense of national honor ; the fame of his country 
 becomes a matter of individual concernment. He walks amid 
 the throngs of a strange people, rejoicing in the badge of his 
 nativity. I shall never forget how strongly these emotions were 
 awakened, at the close of a long, balmy day in spring, when I 
 approached the ancient city of Syracuse. My tired mule was 
 slowly descending a declivity bordered with broken ranges of 
 tombs. The long, pencilled lines of an Italian sunset rose and 
 saffron and amber, were glowing in the west. A few peasants 
 were driving their goats through the grass-grown area within 
 the gates. The silence and decay of a scene so renowned in 
 history, were doubly affecting at that pensive hour. I looked 
 upon the crumbling mounds of the adjacent plain, up to the 
 grey and moss-grown walls of the impoverished town, and then 
 over the beautiful bay so often furrowed by the keels of 
 opposing squadrons, but now lonely and placid as one of our 
 mountain lakes. Anchored in the midst of the calm waters, lay 
 a beautiful yacht, and at the mast-head the "star-spangled 
 
52 THBOPTIMIST. 
 
 banner " was fluttering in the breeze. Then, as if by magic, the 
 thought of Dionysius, of Damon and Pythias, of the glory and 
 grandeur of Syracuse, vanished from my mind ; and gave place 
 to visions of mighty forests, broad rivers, and bustling cities ; the 
 visible tokens of decay were forgotten in thoughts of the fresh 
 energies and triumphant activity of my native land ; and the 
 sepulchre of Archimedes, who boasted that had he whereon to 
 stand, he could move the world, grew dim at the thought of 
 him whose simple tomb is shadowed by the groves of Mount 
 Vernon. Let me refer, in this connexion, to the singular 
 advantages, in a national point of view, possessed by the 
 American traveller. The names of older nations are associated 
 with degrading facts in their history, or prejudices induced by 
 real or supposed aggressions. Their course, either in arms or 
 diplomacy, towards each other, has given rise to national 
 prejudices which time will scarcely heal. But among the 
 people of continental Europe, the name of American is a most 
 honorable passport. It is a fresh and hopeful name. It is 
 associated with the cause of freedom and human progress ; and 
 those who bear it must be singularly false to its claims, if they 
 do not find it the occasion of frequent and flattering considera 
 tion. Our national existence has been too brief to allow the 
 formation of those inveterate antipathies which often obstruct 
 the path of other travellers. We have been called the head of 
 the popular party of the world. The ploughman at Marathon, 
 we are told, blesses the wanderer from a country which sent her 
 tribute for the relief of struggling Greece, and reared the 
 standard of popular education at Athens. The proudest frigate 
 of the Turkish fleet is the offspring of American skill and 
 enterprise. The Italian gazes with affectionate enthusiasm upon 
 one of a nation whose struggle for liberty has been made 
 
TRAVEL. 53 
 
 familiar to him by the graphic pen of Botta. France, notwith 
 standing our little variances, can never forget the name of 
 Lafayette ; and even dismembered Poland has a vital graft of 
 nationality upon our country s tree, in the memories of Kosci- 
 usko and Pulaski. 
 
 The physical benefits of travel are beginning to be better 
 appreciated. There are doubtless many instances where disease 
 is aggravated by the exposure and irregularities incident to a 
 tour. But in numerous cases, the change of air and diet, the 
 exercise and pleasing excitement, renew the tone of the system 
 when other remedies have been vainly resorted to. In travel 
 ling especially, does " good digestion wait on appetite, and health 
 on both." In proof of this, witness the zest with which 
 travellers record their good dinners, and the cordial tribute they 
 ever pay to places and persons, which have thus ministered to 
 their pleasure. The district where they first taste a rare wine, 
 the waters beside which they have feasted upon some delicious 
 fish, or the road-side inn where they have unexpectedly fallen 
 upon a hearty meal, often figure in their pages to the detriment 
 of the magnificent ruin, or the exquisite landscape. Something 
 of Falstaff s zealous relish colors such reminiscences. In 
 approaching Naples, the traveller anticipates a legitimate feast 
 of maccaroni, and a bottle of lachrymachristi, as well as the 
 sight of Vesuvius and Virgil s tomb. Upon certain unsenti 
 mental voyagers, the sausages of Bologna leave a more vivid 
 impression than her pictures ; and on the shores of Greece, 
 classical references are often neglected in favor of a more recent 
 authority which bids us " fill high the bowl with Samian 
 wine." 
 
 The romance of travel is rapidly disappearing. Steam, in the 
 train of its many blessings, brings a counterpoise of disadvan- 
 
54 THEOPTIMIST. 
 
 tages. What we gain in time we often lose in enjoyment As 
 the conveniences of travel multiply, we are apt to grow more 
 selfish. The necessity of mutual forbearance and mutual support 
 is greatly diminished, and the traveller s position is often 
 isolated and mechanical. What have become of the delightful 
 stage-coach adventures which used to make a day s journey so 
 rich an experience ? When the Atlantic was ploughed only by 
 sailing vessels, fellow-passengers felt the necessity of being 
 mutually agreeable, but few deem it worth their while so to 
 enliven a fortnight in a steam-ship, half of which, perhaps, is 
 passed in sea-sickness. When the Hudson was navigated by 
 sloops only, complains an old Knickerbocker, the voyagers 
 became quite like a family party before they reached Albany ; 
 but on board the gay and rapid steamboats that now ply on 
 that glorious river, you see ladies wholly absorbed in the 
 scenery, and gentlemen reading newspapers. There is no hope 
 of speaking a homeward-bound craft, or lying to in some 
 picturesque inlet for the night. Mandeville, the author of the 
 first English book of travels, was thirty years exploring countries 
 that may now be satisfactorily visited in three. The very 
 deserts are to be intersected by railroads. Venice will soon be 
 joined to the main land by a bridge, and an omnibus has been 
 several years established at Athens. It must be confessed that 
 the true zest of a tour is seldom realized in the United States. 
 The absence of time-hallowed associations is one obvious cause. 
 Another may be found in the fact that we travel chiefly for 
 purposes of business or with a view to pleasure, when the jaunt 
 is ended. The rapidity of movement, the prevailing similarity 
 of manners through the country, the crowds which throng our 
 public conveyances, and the utilitarian objects in view, make 
 travelling with us oftener a toil than a pleasure ; so that the 
 
TRAVEL. 55 
 
 experienced traveller might ask upon his return from an 
 American trip, in the same tone with which the exquisite, in 
 Pelham, speaks of an ill-cut coat, " do you call this thing a 
 journey ?" In cars and steamboats we often feel like victims 
 rather than voluntary agents, an idea which the recklessness and 
 terrible accidents so often occurring, is not calculated to dispel. 
 Natural scenery is the grand resource of the American traveller. 
 In this respect, his pleasures are unsurpassed. Niagara, the 
 lakes, the various magnificent mountains and lovely shores, are 
 the shrines of our pilgrimages ; and fit altars are they to kindle 
 the worship of a free people, and inspire with elevated enthusi 
 asm, the poets of liberty. We can easily fancy what a rare and 
 romantic delight an inhabitant of the old world must experience 
 in ranging the primeval forests, tracing the majestic rivers, or 
 coursing the boundless prairies of this continent. The genial 
 activity and free exposure to nature in all her bold magnifi 
 cence, the delicious repast of the hunter, the woodland 
 encampment, the mighty groves, the clear sky, and the brilliant 
 wild flower, as if " fresh from the hand of God," must strike his 
 senses and his soul with something of the glory of a new 
 creation. And the volumes of De Tocqueville and Chevalier 
 indicate how much there is in our social condition to attract the 
 philosophic eye, and interest the philanthropic heart. * 
 
 In placing so high an estimate upon the advantages of travel, 
 we would not be understood as in the slightest degree under 
 valuing those sacred feelings that bind a human being to the 
 place of his nativity, and identify all his dearest hopes and 
 interests with home. Abundant are the consolations of the 
 untravelled. They " hurry not to arrive where none expect 
 them," nor " drag at each remove a lengthening chain. They 
 are exempt from the evils of absence, and need not find " life s 
 
56 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 warmest welcome at an inn." They may travel at will in their 
 library chairs, unannoyed by the visitations of that passion, 
 which the organ of locality, when once indulged in, will not let 
 sleep. For them has been kept sacred a green spot for the 
 affections to take root ; their love does not " run to waste and 
 water but the desert," and they can use the sublime words of a 
 gifted spirit ; " I die without having seen Switzerland, and the 
 ocean, and many fine sights, but the scenes of eternity I shall 
 in no case fail to see/ Happy is the being whose views are 
 bounded only to be blessed, who is un visited by " chance 
 desires," who finds in the immediate and familiar all that is 
 gen ial and requisite, and who can say with an amiable and 
 quaint essayist, " I would set up my tabernacle here. My 
 household gods plant a terrible fixed foot, and are not removed 
 without blood." There is no purer and more lasting enjoyment 
 of life than falls to their lot, who feel that 
 
 " A man s best things are nearest him, 
 Lie close about his feet ;" 
 
 who feel, amid the vicissitudes of time, that they are environed 
 by associations and objects rendered dear by unbroken sympa 
 thies ; who are ever greeted by " familiar faces," rove, through 
 life, beside the same river that witnessed the dreams of boyhood ; 
 sit, in age, beneath the same tree that sheltered their infancy ; and 
 sleep, at last, in the shadow of the same spire that guided them 
 to heaven. To a true spirit, no scene of natural beauty is ever 
 exhausted, and the most limited social intercourse is rich in 
 meaning. We have only to remember what London was to 
 Charles Lamb, and "Our Village" is to Miss Mitford, to 
 perceive how man} of the best fruits of travel may be realized 
 without its deprivations. 
 
TRAVEL. 57 
 
 To reap the best fruits of travel, a certain degree of enthusi 
 asm, and something of an ideal temperament, is essential. 
 Without them, the pains of a pilgrimage will be unalleviated, 
 and the pleasures but feebly enjoyed. " Does he," asks an 
 earnest writer, " who is not endowed with an enthusiastic 
 imagination, flatter himself that he is, in any degree, acquainted 
 with the earth on which he lives, or that he has travelled through 
 any of its various countries ? Does his heart beat at the echo 
 of the mountains, or has the air of the South lulled his senses 
 in its voluptuous softness ?" It is c*hiefly through associations 
 that travel interests, and their vividness evidently depends upon 
 the ardor and imagination of the traveller. If these obtain, he- 
 will forget fatigue and inconvenience, lose himself at every 
 hallowed spot, and keenly relish the least inkling of an 
 adventure. To him a moonlight night at Venice, a sunrise 
 from Mount Etna, a morning in the Florence Gallery or West 
 minster Abbey, a spartito of Rubini, an excursion on the Lake 
 of Geneva, or a promenade in the Tuileries, will be fondly 
 remembered long after the trials of his tour are utterly forgotten. 
 He will rejoice in the thought of Romeo and Juliet at Verona, 
 without vexing himself with doubts as to the authenticity of the 
 lovers tomb. He will conjure up the fables of antiquity while 
 viewing the shattered temples at Agrigentum, rising with 
 venerable grace in the twilight, and cease to grumble because 
 the fleas disturbed his siesta. He will enjoy the picturesque 
 street, as he is whirled over its noisy pavement by lamp-light ; 
 and chat pleasantly with the Tuscan peasant by the river side. 
 He will kneel in the Cathedral of Milan, and suffer his soul to 
 rise on the wings of a Catholic anthem. He will linger at a 
 Swiss village for the sake of growing familiar with a fine pros 
 pect ; and frequent the Foruin at Rome, by moonlight, to over- 
 
 3* 
 
58 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 come the disappointment its appearance awakens by day. He 
 will cultivate the society of artists notwithstanding their habili 
 ments are grotesque, and explore a pnlace that attracts him, 
 although it is not specified in the guide-book. He will tremble 
 with joy over the good tidings from home, and gratefully 
 receive the boon, of friendship in a land of strangers. The wild 
 expectancy of the arrival, the tearful excitement of the 
 departure, the teeming language of new scenes and unaccustomed 
 society, the sights, the sounds, the sensations, the thoughts and 
 emotions all the phenomena of a pilgrimage, will be to him a 
 stirring and memorable experience. To him every new locality 
 .will prove an inspiration. The tomb of genius will be as a holy 
 shrine, the mountain-top as an altar of God. The battle-ground 
 will vibrate with the murderous pageantry of war, and the 
 fertile valley breathe the peacefulness of Eden. He will bless 
 Guido for renewing to his fancy the pensive countenance of 
 Beatrice, and Salvator for instructing his eye in the wild 
 combinations of forest scenery. He will meet Shylock on the 
 Rialto, and hear the echoes of Tully s voice beside the temple of 
 Jupiter. He will recognise Dr. Bellario in the dark-robed 
 student of Padua, and the fetters of Columbus will clank in his 
 ears, amid the narrow thoroughfares of Genoa. Chivalric legends 
 will beguile him upon the ramparts of Malta, and he will 
 reverently recite the Beatitudes in the olive-gardens of Pales 
 tine. The scattered grey of Mary Stuart s auburn locks will 
 gleam before his fancy at Holyrood, and Byron s melancholy 
 story haunt his walks at Venice. Every windmill in Spain 
 reminds him of Don Quixote, and he will think of Cleopatra s 
 pearl as he quaffs wine in Egypt. To him it is no mystery that 
 the Moor drew from Desdemona "a prayer of earnest heart" 
 that he " would all his pilgrimage dilate," nor that the story 
 
TRAVEL. 59 
 
 won her. All that history has chronicled, and poetry con 
 secrated, will mingle and glow in the mind of the enthusiastic 
 traveller. And without this warmth of fancy and moral sensi 
 bility, the experience of travel is cold and unredeemed. It is 
 through sympathy with characters of renown or ideal beauty, 
 that their forms are invoked, and without these radiant images 
 to people the lonely dungeon and the silent shore, the wild glen 
 and the modernized edifice, how unattractive would they often 
 be ! " The beings of the mind are not of clay," and he who 
 would enjoy the associations of travel, must have learned to 
 reverence Nature and genius, and be a lover of his race ; he 
 who would realize its best results, must be an ardent votary of 
 improvement, and open his heart to its teachings. The light 
 which is to throw a halo around the ruin, the picture, and the 
 mountain, must originate in his own mind. The charm that 
 elicits social delight, must proceed from himself. The talisman 
 of sympathy which is to unlock the treasures of travel, must be 
 carried in his own bosom. 
 
60 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 And when the stream of sound 
 
 Which overflowed the soul, had passed away, 
 
 A consciousness survived that it had left 
 
 Deposited upon the silent shore 
 
 Of memory, images and gentle thoughts 
 
 Which cannot die and will not be destroyed. 
 
 WORDSWORTH. 
 
 THERE is a poetry of sound, susceptibility to which is wholly 
 independent of science. Taste for this exquisite pleasure may be 
 cultivated to the highest degree, by those who have no musical 
 skill, and are ignorant even of the vocabulary of the art. Per 
 haps, indeed, music is felt by none so much as those to whom 
 it is a sweet mystery, a luxury never analysed, an unexplored 
 avenue leading, at once, and by a process too enchanting to 
 examine, into the happy precincts of the ideal world. To such 
 minds the vagueness of music is one of its greatest charms. To 
 them it occasions no surprise to remember that musicians were 
 anciently deemed seers ; and that even Christians followed an 
 idolatrous example, and canonized Cecilia when the Muses were 
 no more. They can sympathize with the monk of Catania, 
 whose dying request it was, to be buried beneath the organ 
 whose harmonies had so long blessed him. Like the opium- 
 eater, they love to " construct out of the raw material of organic 
 sound, an elaborate intellectual pleasure." They delight to 
 lose, or rather quicken their consciousness in the inspiring 
 atmosphere of song. " Succession," says Burke, " gives the idea 
 of continuing on to infinity." Perhaps this accounts for the 
 spell which music exerts over imaginative spirits. It is a magic 
 
MUSIC . 61 
 
 river, down which they float to the verge of the infinite. 
 Without the definiteness of sculpture and painting, music is, for 
 that very reason, far more suggestive. Like Milton s Eve, an 
 outline, an impulse is furnished, and the imagination does the 
 rest. Anticipation, that mighty principle of Happiness, is 
 called into immediate action. Expectancy is constantly aroused. 
 " The essence of musical feeling," says an ingenious writer, 
 " consists in this, that we endeavor, from a sense of pleasure, 
 to dwell on and even to perpetuate in our minds, some kind of 
 emotion of a joyful or painful nature." Music thus seems the 
 prelude to that perfect satisfaction, that entire expression of 
 itself, for which the heart is ever aspiring : 
 
 " The golden key 
 That opes the palace of eternity." 
 
 Viewed in this light, as a mental excitement, an element and a 
 means of spiritual life, it is difficult to overrate the importance 
 and interest attached to music. Although Condillac pushed the 
 idea to absurdity, it is very evident that sensation is the grand 
 medium of universal impression. Through this, let abstract 
 philosophers argue as they may, men are to be most surely 
 reached and powerfully affected. The delicate structure of the 
 nervous system, a branch of physiology which still baffles 
 scientific research, proves its agency to be most subtle and 
 extensive. Explain it as we may, a martial strain will urge a 
 man into the front ranks of battle sooner than an argument, and 
 a fine anthem excite his devotion more certainly than a logical 
 discourse. Even Dr. Johnson acknowledged the effect produced 
 upon his mental mood by riding in a post-chaise. Schiller was 
 indebted to champagne, and Shelley to magnetism. Coleridge 
 was addicted to opium, and Milton loved a pipe. Far more 
 
62 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 intellectual as a solace and pure as an excitement is music. 
 Could we penetrate further into the facts of nature, perhaps it 
 would be discovered that the most ethereal of physical influences 
 is sound, and that music is the element in which matter and 
 spirit most nearly assimilate. A more refined sense and a 
 deeper sensibility would doubtless reveal more of the poetry of 
 sound than we can now imagine. It has been suggested that 
 as the telescope enables us to see stars otherwise invisible, so 
 auditory tubes might be constructed by which we could hear 
 the music of the spheres. Nature s music falls upon inattentive 
 ears. The wind awakens harmonies innumerable, and too 
 various to be transcribed. The ocean is an infinite organ of 
 sound. Forests are mighty harps ; and every brook " makes 
 music with the enamelled stones." Yet how rare is the auditor, 
 who, like Beethoven, could sit on a stile out in the summer 
 noon-tide, and gather up the blending music of creation, to 
 repeat in new combinations or more striking forms : 
 
 " While mellow warble, sprightly trill 
 
 The tremulous heart excite ; 
 And hums the balmy air to still 
 The balance of delight." 
 
 There is perhaps no better definition of music than the 
 language of the soul. Thus regarded, it is a curious and 
 pleasing speculation to trace its effects upon man, and note how 
 it mingles with the experience of those distinguished by eminent 
 gifts or rare achievements. Wherever the poetic temperament 
 obtains, wherever human nature is discussed by a master-spirit, 
 we find the poetry of sound recognised as the true dialect of 
 emotion, and adopted, as it were, spontaneously, as a medium 
 of expression, a profound solace, a rich stimulus or a graceful 
 
MUSIC . 63 
 
 diversion. As a language, then, consider its universality, The 
 Spanish muleteer chants the ballads of his country amid her 
 lonely hills; beneath her palaces is heard the tinkle of the 
 guitar, and in her fields the clink of castanets. The Savoyards 
 carry over the world their mountain songs. The German 
 waltzes enliven the saloons of civilized Europe. The shrill bag 
 pipe wakes the echoes of the Highlands, and Paganini s violin 
 filled the concert rooms of St. Petersburg!!. Amid the ruins of 
 Rome, at Christmas, the savage Calabrian plays his wild reeds ; 
 and the streets of Paris resound with the Marseillaise. A Lon 
 don audience hail the national anthem, and the American 
 Indians have their war-whoop and death-song. From the time 
 that Tubal picked up the tortoise-shell and found it a lyre, to 
 Donizetti s last opera, how perfectly has music represented man ! 
 Italy is emphatically the land of music, and the phenomena 
 the art there presents, afford ample evidence that its true origin 
 and object is feeling. Public enthusiasm there sustains and 
 exalts music. An appreciating and devoted audience there 
 awaits the children of song. In Naples, a musical plagiarism is 
 at once detected at the theatre ; and in all the principal cities, 
 the artist is confident that every public effort of his genius will 
 meet with instant and grateful recognition. A not less 
 striking indication of the powerful hold this diversion has 
 upon the popular mind in Italy, is the facility with which 
 the artisans adopt favorite airs, and the skill with which a 
 casual band of night-strollers strike spontaneously into a new 
 chorus. The honors lavished upon the prima donna are equally 
 significant. The well-timed applause, the shower of wreaths, 
 the torch-bearing procession, and the more private tokens of 
 admiration bestowed upon these queens of song, render their 
 triumphs, though brief, the most brilliant of modern times 
 
64 THEOPTIMIST. 
 
 When Malibran was passing through Arezzo the inhabitants 
 secreted her horses, and assembling in the principal piazza, 
 beneath the hotel windows, refused to allow her to proceed until 
 she had favored them with a popular air. Their town was too 
 small for a large theatre, and they adopted this course in despair 
 of ever hearing in any other way, the voice with whose fame all 
 Italy rang. Farinelli purchased a duchy. Pasta s residence on 
 the banks of Lake Como is a beautiful evidence of her success ; 
 and the cultivated friends around her, still keep alive the consi 
 deration her splendid career excited. Catalani at the age of sixty 
 lived, for years, in honored retirement in one of the most delight 
 ful villas in the neighborhood of Florence. Bellini s memory is 
 cherished in Sicily as the redeeming genius of that unhappy 
 island. In the old world, music is the subtle language through 
 which restricted talent finds scope the cheering atmosphere in 
 which poverty seeks refreshment the elevating element in which 
 even the victims of despotism breathe freely. The bravi who 
 were hired to despatch Stradella abandoned the meditated crime 
 with horror, after hearing him sing. Keller, a poor peruke- 
 maker, received the still poorer Haydn into his house, merely 
 from having enjoyed his voice at the cathedral. 
 
 It is worthy of remark that the productions of composers are 
 finished as soon as imagined. No medium of human expres 
 sion is so fresh, so directly the offspring of sentiment. That it 
 has to do with the very depths of our nature is evident from the 
 melancholy which characterizes all impassioned music. It 
 addresses the memory with singular power. How often it 
 breaks up at once the deep of the affections, and conjures back 
 all that is beautiful and dear in the domain of the past ! 
 
 Anecdotes of celebrated composers are full of interest. 
 Haydn imagined a little romance, and then wrote it out in music 
 
MUSIC. 65 
 
 Gliick kindled his fancy by sitting at the piano in the midst of 
 a beautiful meadow. One composer could only invent with a 
 diamond ring upon his finger, the donative of an illustrious 
 friend ; and another read one of Petrarch s sonnets to awaken 
 his " fine phrensy." Many of the fragments which Bellini left are 
 so marked as to show they were written under the influence of 
 feelings resulting from personal experience. It was his custom 
 to incorporate these fruits of private sentiment into his operas. 
 Hence, doubtless, their reality of style and truth of expression. 
 
 Even the physical effects of music are but very partially 
 explored. The beautiful story of David s consoling strains, so 
 finely embodied in Alfieri s Saul, is doubtless but faintly typical 
 of the power of harmony in cases of mental malady. "The 
 Devil is of a melancholy cast," says Luther, " and music soon 
 drives him away." Invalids of nervous temperament may raise 
 their tone of health to an astonishing degree, by frequenting 
 musical entertainments. Haydn s biographer declares himself 
 cured of a fever by a fine mass. Philip V. of Spain, when a 
 confirmed hypochondriac, was alive to nothing but music. 
 Whoever has witnessed the tranquil state sometimes induced by 
 melody in cases of violent insanity, or traced the world of 
 meaning which the blind realize in cultivating sound, will appre 
 ciate the undiscovered efficacy of music as a resource and a 
 restorative. In this country we are scarcely aware of the capa 
 bilities of the human voice. Prevented by the vicissitudes of 
 our climate from living much in the open air, accustomed to 
 small rooms and often educated in social restraint, the voice is 
 unnaturally subdued, and rarely cultivated with freedom and 
 science. 
 
 The occasions of the art are as various as the exigencies and 
 aspects of human life. Our triumphs would indeed prove dull, 
 
66 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 and our wants wasting, were not this sweet resource provided. 
 Miriam celebrated, with her timbrel, the escape of her people 
 from bondage, and Jephtha s daughter went out to meet him 
 with a song. The morning stars sang together at the dawn of 
 creation, and the melody of angels hailed the rising star of 
 Bethlehem. The fame of the Moors of Spain has found its best 
 echo in legendary songs ; and Byron sums up the woes of 
 Venice in one line, when he tells us that 
 
 " Songless rows the silent gondolier." 
 
 The lover soothes his impatient heart, and the loved plumes the 
 wings of her affection, as the serenade floats through the moon 
 lit air. The infant falls asleep upon its mother s bosom to the 
 lulling strain of a nursery song ; and the aged man who has 
 died in honor, is laid in his grave with the solemn harmony of 
 the dirge. The grace of festivity is the banquet song ; and the 
 tears of repentance become sublime amid the solemn pathos of 
 the miserere. The bitterness of bondage passes from the slave s 
 heart as his chant accompanies the plashing oar ; and the fear 
 of death is lost in valorous resolves, as the trumpet s onset falls 
 on the ear of the soldier. The nun forgets the world she 
 regrets, when joining in the vesper hymn ; and the belle is, for 
 a moment, redeemed from the thrall of fashion, when alone with 
 her harp. Blind and maimed though he be, the strolling musi 
 cian smiles blandly as he plays ; and the peasant thinks the 
 world his own, as his reed welcomes the sunset hour. 
 
 How nobly music mingles with the lives of the good and 
 great ! In early youth, the author of the Reformation endea 
 vored to support himself by singing in the streets. This he 
 quaintly calls " bread music." In later years his heroic spirit 
 found scope in hymns of devotion, and when his great work was 
 
MUSIC. 67 
 
 finished, these sacred melodies were sung by the tearful multi 
 tude that clustered around his coffin. What a sublime picture 
 does Milton present seated at his organ, raising those sightless 
 orbs, whose darkness only made the light within him more 
 bright, while his aspirations found a response in the solemn 
 strain. Haydn was wont to muse upon God s goodness until 
 the " fire burned," and then he penned those devotional composi 
 tions which have kindled a like flame in countless hearts. Mary 
 Stuart s captivity was cheered by her lute ; and Galileo turned 
 from the abstruse researches of science to the refreshment of 
 music. It is related of Maria Antoinette that, when standing 
 before her inhuman judges, she thrummed the bar with her 
 fingers, as if it were a piano, and seemed endeavoring to 
 support her courage by wandering, in fancy, through some 
 remembered melody. The wild fancy of Salvator expatiated in 
 the boundless domain of sound, not less than amid the forest 
 scenes of the Appenines. Mozart, we are told, was a king at 
 the piano, though inadequate elsewhere. His love for Constance 
 Weber found splendid expression in an opera ; while the shadow 
 of death lost its gloom in the fervor of soul with which he com 
 posed his mysterious requiem. Old Walton, while at his favor 
 ite pastime, cheered by the singing of the birds, was wont to 
 ejaculate, " Lord, what music hast thou provided for thy saints 
 in heaven, when thou affordest bad men such music on earth !" 
 How characteristic of Thomson, that he loved to lean out of the 
 window at Richmond, and listen to the nightingales, through 
 the long summer nights ; and what a genial resource proved 
 Goldsmith s flute, in his wanderings over the continent ! 
 
 The effects that consecrate music are chiefly chronicled by 
 the poets. They have cherished the influence and celebrated 
 the triumphs of the art, as kindred to their own. Indeed, the 
 
68 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 susceptibility essential to poetic power, is equally alive to the 
 spell of harmony. Moore says he is no poet apart from the 
 sensation of music. Dante, in his Paradise, speaks of the 
 melody that 
 
 " Sounds sweetest here 
 And draws the spirit most unto itself ;" 
 
 thus recognising one of the striking metaphysical results of the 
 art. Petrarch poured forth his verses to the sound of the lute, 
 which he bequeathes to a friend. His voice was sweet and of 
 great compass. Alfieri sought at the grand opera the inspira 
 tion under which his dramas were composed. Dryden has left 
 a noble record of his sense of the power of music in Alexander s 
 Feast. Wordsworth says of Lucy, in his beautiful poem of that 
 name : 
 
 " The stars of midnight shall be dear 
 To her ; and she shall lean her ear 
 
 In many a secret place, 
 Where rivulets dance their wayward round, 
 And beauty born of murmuring sound 
 
 Shall pass into her face." 
 
 Keats speaks of " music yearning like a god in pain," and in the 
 Eve of St. Agnes, alluding to the consoling influence of church 
 music, exquisitely says, it 
 
 " Flattered to tears the aged man and poor." 
 
 Shelley s description of music, of which he was passionately 
 fond, and to whose every inspiration he was singularly suscep 
 tible, is equally fanciful and characteristic : 
 
MUSIC . 69 
 
 " The silver key of the fountain of tears, 
 Where the spirit drinks till the brain is wild, 
 
 Softest grave of a thousand fears, 
 Where their mother Care, like a weary child, 
 
 Is laid asleep in flowers." 
 
 Milton s deep sense of the beautiful in sound, is expressed in 
 many instances with his usual power and felicity. To him 
 music was an immense consolation. Pleasure at one sense 
 "quite shut out," the other overflowed with enjoyment. In 
 Comus, the poet recorded, in language too grand and musical 
 ever to be forgotten, his estimation of the "soft and solemn 
 breathing sound," 
 
 " At every fall smoothing the raven down 
 Of Darkness, till it smiled." 
 
 Can the utmost familiarity ever rob that passage of its charm ? 
 But of all the poets, Shakspeare has most perfectly suggested 
 the philosophy of music. When suspicion has blighted the 
 affection of the Moorish warrior, he bids a solemn farewell to 
 the " shrill trump, the spirit-stirring drum and the ear-piercing 
 fife." The charm they once possessed is dispelled with love s 
 departed melody. Richard III. can find no pleasure in the art 
 save as a rude minister to his testy ambition, a sound to drown 
 the railings of his bereaved accuser. " Strike up, I say " is a 
 command, with the attendant circumstances, singularly illustra 
 tive of his tyrannical character. Sir Toby Belch talks of rousing 
 " the night-owl with a catch ;" and Jacques declares he " can 
 suck melancholy out of a song as a weasel sucks eggs." What 
 significance in Csesar s objection to Cassius " he hears no 
 music !" What an effective touch of description, bringing into 
 
70 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 view all the delicacy and tenderness of the female character, in 
 Lear s observation of Cordelia : 
 
 " Her voice was ever soft, 
 Gentle and low ; an excellent thing in woman." 
 
 Desdemona s baffled heart seeks a relief in the willow song, 
 accordant with her gentle nature. Ophelia s madness finds an 
 expression in her pensive strains most appropriate to her fanciful 
 temperament. It comports with the ideal character of the 
 Tempest, that Ariel s melody should draw Ferdinand to 
 Miranda; and how finely has the poet portrayed a lover s 
 yearning for pathetic music, in the Duke s command to his 
 page, in Twelfth Night : 
 
 " Now, good Cesario, that piece of song, 
 That old and antique song we heard last night, 
 Methought it did relieve my passion much ; 
 More than light airs and recollected terms, 
 Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times ; 
 Come, but one verse. 
 
 ****#*## 
 It is old and plain : 
 
 The spinners and the knitters in the sun, 
 
 And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, 
 
 Did use to chant it : it is silly sooth, 
 
 And dallies with the innocence of woe 
 
 Like the old age." 
 
 From the tender strain which gives " an echo to the seat where 
 love is throned," to the " sweet thunder " of the Spartan hounds ; 
 from the mysterious harmony of invisible spirits, to the hearty 
 carollings of conviviality, Shakspeare has introduced and 
 depicted music with a marvellous truth to human nature. How 
 
MUSIC. 71 
 
 exquisitely is Cleopatra s fond caprice displayed, in this brief 
 colloquy after Antony s departure : 
 
 Cleo. Give me some music ; music, moody food 
 
 Of us that trade in love. 
 Attendant. The music, ho ! 
 Cleo. Let it alone ; let us to billiards ; 
 
 Come, Charmian. 
 
 The proud queen, even in_ reference to an art whose " voluptu 
 ous swell" was so adapted to her luxurious tastes, is still 
 described, 
 
 " As variable as the shade 
 By the light, quivering aspen made." 
 
 In the Merchant of Venice, we have, as it were, an epitome of 
 our subject. The power of music, its association with the deep 
 things of the heart, its divine accordance with the bright serenity 
 of nature, its sweet response to the bliss of reciprocated 
 affection, the comfort it affords the sorrowful all its meaning and 
 its truth, are here casually but vividly sketched. When viewed 
 in relation to the respective scenes and persons, these touches of 
 the poet, if faithfully conned, are more significant than a whole 
 volume of comments on the poetry of sound. 
 
CONVERSATION. 
 
 The good in conversation, 
 To whom I give my benison." 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 FAMILIAR as the word is, true conversation is a great rarity. 
 It implies a disinterested communion of thought, an interchange 
 of ideas. It is essentially a play of the mind, but one that calls 
 out the grace and vigor acquired in its severest toils. Most 
 people of intelligence either argue or discourse ; they find no 
 pleasure in receiving your thought and carrying it forward, or 
 increasing its volume, but accept it rather as a hint from which 
 to start on a rhetorical survey, or an antagonist to exercise their 
 logical skill. A celebrated English reviewer of the present day 
 is one of the most brilliant talkers in London society. His lan 
 guage and his information seem equally inexhaustible, and they 
 absolutely inundate the listener ; but, for this very reason, he is 
 altogether unsatisfactory in conversation ; for, in case his auditor 
 has the energy to resist the impetuosity of manner and flood of 
 words, and insists upon throwing in occasionally a thought of 
 his own, the other party has recourse to argument. Thus he 
 lectures with the weak, and fights logical battles with the strong, 
 but converses with neither. His contact with the one is like 
 that of the Nile with the Egyptian fields ; and with the other, 
 it exactly resembles the adroit, keen, and flashing encounter 
 of a gentleman s foil. He must either communicate or oppose ;^ 
 but is incompetent to assimilate with, or felicitously draw out 
 
CONVERSATION. 73 
 
 another s mind ; and this is the secret charm of genuine conver 
 sation ; for if we look narrowly at the process, the very distinc 
 tion between it and the task of the professed advocate or clergy 
 man, is that in conversation we are unconscious of the limits of 
 our own part ; there is so mutual an unfolding of the subject, 
 such an identity of the mental action, that we can say with the 
 poet, 
 
 " It seemed, as I retraced the ballad line by line, 
 That but half of it was his, and half of it was mine." 
 
 Indeed, the primal quality of conversation is its suggestiveness. 1 
 It would otherwise be no more desirable than a sermon or a 
 plea a^ thing to be received and considered as a whole, instead 
 of the gradually progressive current made up of tributary 
 streams, which harmoniously blend and flow onward. Perhaps 
 there is no way in which conversation can be more clearly 
 recognised as such, than by its effect. This is always refreshing. 
 We are weary at a dull sermon, or irritated at a long speech, 
 because the mind is forced to an inactive endurance, while in 
 conversation, it is animated by having to respond as well as 
 accept. Hence there are few more rational solaces for the ills 
 of life than conversation. It acts almost magically upon some 
 temperaments, diverting the mood, quickening the faculties, and 
 giving elasticity to the spirits ; for, like everything relating to 
 human beings, conversation has its physiological relations ; and 
 it is partly because these are so vaguely realized, that its utility 
 is unappreciated. I was struck with the remark of an eccentric 
 physician, for one of whose patients I inquired. "Sir," he 
 replied, " she needs gossip." It appeared the lady was living 
 in a silent family, and found no vent for her repressed spirits in 
 small-talk. A few chatty visitors were provided, and she was 
 
 4 
 
74 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 a new being. The volubility of the sex has long been a staple 
 idea for playwrights and cynics ; but there is nothing truly 
 characteristic in nature that is not justified by a general and 
 wise law. Expression is a moral and physical necessity ; dis- 
 courage it entirely, and the mind is disordered or overthrown. 
 Hence the controversies in regard to solitary confinement in 
 prison discipline. Nearly all the tragic catastrophes of human 
 life originate in baffled utterance. A deep ieeling allowed to 
 accumulate and centralize in the soul, without breathing itself 
 in friendly conference, or song, or prayer, becomes so intense 
 that it finally absorbs consciousness; hence fanaticism and 
 insanity. Now the best hygiene for the mind is conversation. 
 A painful idea or an emotion, when it is made objective by 
 being talked over, loses, in a great degree, its horror or its woe. 
 There is exquisite nature in the desolate queen s adjuration, 
 
 " Come, let us sit upon the ground, 
 And tell sad stories of the death of kings." 
 
 But these are exigencies only. As a preventive to that un 
 healthy excess into which opinion and sentiment are apt to run, 
 when too much individualized and partially cherished, conversa 
 tion is at once natural and effective. To the stagnant or over 
 wrought brain, the stimulus of agreeable colloquy gives a 
 wonderful relief. There is between speech and thought a 
 relation far more complex than philosophy has yet discovered. 
 From the inarticulate moan of an infant, to the most eloquent 
 utterance of the poet, the growth and integrity of the mind is 
 vitally associated with expression. 
 
 It is said that taciturn women are never healthy ; and Con- 
 greve declares, in one of his comedies " Once a man comes to 
 
CONVERSATION. 75 
 
 his soliloquies, I give him up for gone," an indirect tribute to 
 the salubrity of free discussion. The " Noctes" of Wilson are one 
 of the most successful attempts to give the zest of conversation to 
 writing ; but even these grow tedious occasionally, from the 
 absence of the living voice and naturalness of suggestion ; yet 
 they convey an excellent idea of the relief which active minds 
 experience in mere utterance. One sympathizes with the need 
 of the shepherd to let off the poetical electricity harvested by 
 his moorland reveries, and fancies him going back to his solitude 
 with a less teeming brain and more quickened fancy. 
 
 Nature asserts herself with peculiar freedom in some persons, 
 especially the candid, imaginative, and ardent. In the present 
 state of society, it is difficult to say what safety-valve for these 
 anti-conventionalists is available, except free utterance. In action, 
 that formidable duenna, Respectability, checks impulse quite 
 effectually ; but as there must be a vent somewhere for the 
 unaccepted yet constantly generated produce of the brain, it 
 finds its way out through the tongue, and the most provoking 
 of all auditors are the literal class ; those who have a natural 
 incapacity for taking a joke, look solemn at the announcement of 
 a daring speculation, and remain entrenched in the fortress of 
 material propriety, while the speaker is revelling in the world 
 of fancy. It is the rarest thing in life to meet with a fellow- 
 creature whose influence does not, at some point, veto the play 
 of our idiosyncrasies. It requires so much liberality of mind, 
 such a quickness and breadth of sympathy, and thorough trust 
 worthiness, to be the recipient, at once, of the faith, the thought, 
 and the humor of another, that most of us are driven, by neces 
 sity, into a kind of conversational eclecticism, having a mood 
 for each friend, and a phase of character ready to revolve in 
 sight, according to the demands of every new companion. 
 
76 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 Shelley and Allston excelled in superstitious talk. Their ghost- 
 stories affected the auditor, even if the circumstances were 
 viewed with levity, on account of the spiritual insight which 
 breathed from the narrative. The conversation of a distinguished 
 living wit has been compared to the successive discharge of a 
 Liliputian park of artillery, so apt, quick, and effective, in a small 
 way, is his most incidental byway talk. The concealed bitter 
 ness of Swift s apparently good-natured conversation, the fine 
 rhetoric of Burke s animated observations on a public question, 
 and the good sense of Reynolds in discussing a point of taste, are 
 quite characteristic of the men, the order of their genius, and 
 the spirit of their lives. 
 
 Shakspeare frequently realizes the connexion between habitual 
 speech and principles of action, or the morale of conversation. 
 Thus Octavid s temperament is perfectly described by the fact 
 cited, that she " is of a holy, cold, and still conversation." Prince 
 Henry banishes Falstaff and his companions, 
 
 " Till their conversations 
 Appear more wise and modest to the world." 
 
 " I praise God for you, sir," says another of his characters ; 
 "your reasons, at dinner, have been sharp and sententious, 
 pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, audacious 
 without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange with 
 out heresy." And Hamlet thus commends his friend : 
 
 " Horatio, thou art e en as just a man 
 As e er my conversation coped withal." 
 
 The appliances so generally considered needful when people 
 come together, in order to speed the time, is a glaring proof of 
 the rarity of conversational gifts. Games of chance, tableaux, 
 
CONVERSATION. 7Y 
 
 and dancing, are little more than substitutes for talk ; and it 
 has become an art in fashionable society, how to beguile the 
 company. Hence the sumptuous entertainments which, in this 
 republican land, to so large an extent prevent the most socially 
 rich from entering the arena of what is called society; and yet, 
 if we cast an observing glance upon the crowds at an assembly, 
 their restlessness, forced merriment, and ill-concealed weariness, 
 betray the insipidity of the occasion. It is difficult to recall the 
 parties we have attended, such is their monotony and want of 
 interest ; but many an informal colloquy the discussion around 
 the fireside, or the casual discourse of a promenade, often leave 
 indelible and grateful impressions. The diplomacy of what 
 may be called professional visiting, is fatal to bold utterance. 
 We habitually exchange common-places. It seems inappropri 
 ate, and would be eccentric, to say anything very sincere or 
 eloquent. Tims, to develop, we must have not only confidence 
 in ourselves, but in our auditor. Agreeableness is the ideal of 
 fashion ; vanity the only feeling that under her espionage we 
 can safely address. Hence the tactician succeeds when the 
 gifted fail ; and the atmosphere that sustains a butterfly un 
 nerves the eagle. 
 
 If conversation be an art, like painting, sculpture, and 
 literature, it owes its most powerful charm to nature ; and the 
 least shade of formality or artifice destroys the effect of the best 
 collocation of words. There is no affectation that so excites 
 impatience as that of conversation. We can forgive it in 
 manners and letter-writing, far more easily ; but to " talk like a 
 book," is to abrogate, for the time being, the human interest 
 which is the true privilege of speech. We cannot ass(y> : ?.<e 
 formal display with conversation, the very essence of which is 
 spontaneity. In the memoirs of a French lady recently 
 
78 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 published, there is an anecdote which illustrates the ridiculous 
 light in which the attempt to show off a perSon in conversation, 
 always results. A duchess who had chosen the lady in question 
 as her friend, on account of her talents, used to introduce her 
 thus : " This is the young lady qui a un si grand esprit, qui sait 
 tant de choses ;" then, sotto voce, to her protegee " parlez ! 
 [she hesitates] parlez un pen de religion /" Of course, a 
 profound and embarrassed silence was always the consequence 
 of this appeal ; and the good duchess could only wonder how 
 one who chatted away so brilliantly in her boudoir, remained 
 mute when such desirable opportunities were given her to 
 converse ! This " trotting out " system reached its acme at a 
 town in the West, where a literary gentleman from the North, 
 being invited to a tea-party, when the company had all 
 assembled, was horrified to hear the host ring a small bell and 
 
 exclaim " Hush, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. is going 
 
 to talk !" 
 
 The felicities of conversation are accidental. They must, as 
 Webster says of eloquence, " exist in the man, in the subject, 
 and in the occasion." Like the lion s roaring in Midsummer 
 Night s Dream, really fine talking is extempore. Hence any 
 trace of premeditation despoils it of freshness. Certain diners- 
 out, assured of their company, provide themselves with apt 
 quotations and conversational material adapted to the indi 
 viduals, but it is more than probable that such forced introduc 
 tion " plagues the inventor." Memorable conversation springs v 
 from a blending of earnestness and humor. It is like the 
 gushing music of the sky-lark a kind of irrepressible harmony 
 of language and thought unconsciously emitted from an 
 overflowing mind. The only available rule for effective discourse N 
 is self-forgetfulness ; let the theme, the companion, the glow of 
 
CONVERSATION. *79 
 
 the moment inspire, and a man of reflection or sentiment talks 
 "far above singing." He is unawares an improvisator e, and 
 says better things than he writes we had almost said, than he 
 thinks for the presence of some individuals, or the local 
 associations of the hour, so color and uplift his thoughts, that 
 they pass " into the life of things." 
 
 It is amusing to detect character in the vocabulary of each, 
 person. The adjectives habitually used, like the inscriptions on 
 a thermometer, indicate the temperament. Genuine enthusiasts - 
 employ extreme phrases. To them there is no comparative 
 degree. Everything is either hateful or glorious; and every 
 body either flat or interesting. A more subdued tone of 
 feeling reveals itself in modified expressions, as " dull " and 
 " agreeable ;" and a dogmatist may be known, at once, by the 
 emphatic words he so frequently uses, and the absence of all 
 qualifying terms such as " perhaps " and " it may be." The 
 conversation of acute men, like Hazlitt, quickens the intellect ; 
 that of soulful natures, like Coleridge, kindles the imagination ; 
 that of " good fellows," like Goldsmith, warms the heart. To 
 impress, we must be in earnest ; to amuse, it is only requisite to 
 be kindly and fanciful. To a generous spirit, however, no 
 discovery is so chilling as that of the selfish basis of a regard 
 which begins and ends in the desire to be entertained. We can 
 imagine no phase of life more melancholy than the barter of 
 fine conversational powers for material advantage. It is the 
 desecration of a noble gift. Such a biography as that of Hook, 
 is sad beyond expression depicting, as it does, a man of genius, 
 isolated, physically exhausted, and aspiring, yet eking out 
 existence by daily oblations of wit, to grace the banquets of the 
 wealthy ; and no more recognised beyond his vocation than the 
 juggler or itinerant musician. 
 
80 THEOPTIMIST. 
 
 The hobby-talkers have been well satirized in modern novels, 
 people who are living illustrations of Madame de Stael s 
 remark, that " when we are much attached to our ideas we 
 endeavor to connect everything with them." Claude Halcro s 
 constant references to his acquaintance with Dryden in Scott s 
 Pirate, the rogue s available theory of cosmography in the 
 Vicar of Wakefield, and Mrs. Pipchin s allusions to^ her 
 husband s loss in the Peruvian mines, in Dombey and Son, are 
 among the numerous instances. It really seems as if a class of 
 persons are capable of familiarly entertaining but one idea, or 
 being impressed with but one experience. Before the advent of 
 these, life to them is a blank, after it a reminiscence. 
 
 In regard to the questioning class, there is an observation in 
 Consuelo, which we commend to their especial attention : 
 " Curiosity is so closely allied to perfidy as to make the finest 
 face look ugly." It also deforms the beauty of conversation 
 when made its prevailing feature. It is a selfish inquisitorial 
 spirit, which regards another chiefly as a repository of facts, or 
 a subject for psychological experiment ; delicacy and pride are, 
 at once, and justly, offended, and the free and sympathetic play 
 of the mind repressed. Yet some persons seem unable to 
 understand how it is possible to converse without unremitted 
 interrogations, as if there were no such thing as thinking aloud, 
 regardless of scientific precision or personal facts. Another 
 repulsive order of talkers are the shrewd those whose only and 
 constant aim it is "to make the worse appear the better 
 reason." 
 
 Tact is an essential principle of conversation ; hence, the 
 eastern metaphor which likens a word spoken in season, to 
 " apples of gold in pictures of silver." The time and the society 
 must regulate the subject. We cannot wonder at the astonish- 
 
CONVERSATION. 81 
 
 ment of a southern gentleman, to whom his quadrille partner at 
 a New England ball, abruptly said, as they cliasstd to and fro, 
 " don t you doat upon Wordsworth ?" Some people have a 
 way of turning the most common-place chit-chat into a 
 dissertation. They get on stilts at once. Others, with a large 
 organ of language, and indifferent reflective powers, send forth 
 a torrent of words without consciously associating them with any 
 thought. They are literally human parrots. The language 
 they utter is derived from verbal memory; it comes from a 
 sermon they have heard, or the observations of a wiser head, 
 and is evolved with as little sense of its meaning as an 
 automaton has of the syllables it is made to utter. The 
 fluency and glibness of this class of talkers is apt to deceive not 
 a few, who mistake command of language, or rather word- 
 possession, for ability to think. The truth is, however, and 
 mental philosophy of late years has exemplified it very clearly, 
 that expression and mental force, sentiment and eloquence, but 
 seldom bear a just proportion to each other ; and this is the 
 chief reason why we find so little good conversation. It is 
 certain that we instinctively attach significance to human lan 
 guage not for its ostensible meaning, but as it derives weight 
 from our estimation of the wisdom and sincerity of the indi 
 vidual who speaks. 
 
 I was present at an animated discussion as to the comparative 
 value of various accomplishments, as means of interesting 
 women. Beauty had its advocates, the prestige of wealth or 
 reputation, graces of manner, and tact in flattery ; but he who 
 sustained the claims of conversational power was victor in the 
 argument. Talk has, indeed, its blandishments ; thus lachimo 
 boasts to Posthumus " With five times as much conversation I 
 
 should have got ground of your fair mistress ;" but as the repre- 
 
 4* 
 
82 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 sentative of intellect, the exponent of character, conversation 
 appeals to the noblest sympathies of woman s heart. With 
 how much natural truth and beauty this is unfolded in Othello ! 
 He acknowledges that he has not " those soft parts of conversa 
 tion that chamberers have ;" and yet, by the noble integrity of 
 his utterance, by the unconscious revelation of his brave and 
 earnest feelings, in the narrative for which Desdemona gave him 
 " a world of sighs," there was a mighty spell, and one founded 
 in reason as well as nature ; for it is wisdom and courage which 
 have the most legitimate attractions for the gentlest beings. 
 There is something illusive in many of the recognised tests of 
 intelligent manliness. The orator or the litterateur, by inge 
 nuity, can often produce an impression wholly transcending his 
 genuine calibre ; but the instant application of judgment or 
 fancy to the exigencies of the moment the giving an opinion, 
 expressing a sentiment, interpreting a truth, as occasion suggests, 
 with the aid only of immediate reflection and unpremeditated 
 language is, after all, the most reliable evidence of an active 
 and vigorous mind. 
 
 Landor has published several volumes of " Imaginary Conver 
 sations ;" and although he seldom re-produces the verbal cha 
 racteristics of the individuals, yet the mere bringing together 
 men of opinions and experience so diverse gives us an admirable 
 idea of the vast capabilities of conversation. In truth, the best 
 parts of modem literature are based upon interlocution. The 
 drama and the historical novel are essentially dialogues, invented 
 by genius, to exhibit great sentiments or peerless action. The 
 chief distinction between tragedy and comedy is, the existence 
 of earnestness in the one and its absence in the other, which 
 corresponds with that alternation between gravity and humor 
 which we have designated as the principle of all rich mental 
 
CONVERSATION. 83 
 
 intercourse. It lias been justly said, that " wit is the eloquence 
 of indifference the salt of conversation, not its food." The 
 most satisfactory mental aliment is that derivable from a glo 
 riously endowed living soul. The language of nature, however 
 beautiful and sublime, is not personal or sympathetic ; that of 
 books is purely instructive, and only touches us by its assimilation 
 with our conscious life ; but conversation, when it is alive with 
 the glow of fancy, enriched by wisdom, and sanctioned by confi 
 dent regard, embodies and vitally represents, more directly than 
 nature, literature, or art, what we are and would be. 
 
 The voice, as the medium of conversation, has no little share 
 in its effects. There is a quality of voice, as well as a manage 
 ment of its tones, and this associates itself, in our minds, with 
 pleasurable or repugnant sensations. To a nice ear, the quality 
 of a voice is singularly affecting. Its depth seems to be allied 
 to feeling ; at least, the contralto notes alone give an adequate 
 sense of pathos. They are born near the heart. What is 
 called sweetness of voice is by no means an essential charm. 
 On the contrary, if this quality predominates, it is often indica 
 tive of subtlety, because unnatural, except under certain impulses. 
 It is a questionable compliment, to declare one has an insinuat 
 ing tone ; for there is something unmanly, or at least affected, 
 in the obvious endeavor to win, implied in a studied gentleness 
 of intonation ; whereas even a harsh voice is often more wel 
 come, if its accents have a sustained and honest sound. Dr. 
 Rush has minutely analysed the vocal organs in his celebrated 
 work on the Philosophy of the Voice, and intricate and beau 
 tiful as their mechanism is, its wonderful relation to the mind, 
 as an exponent of character and states of feeling, is yet more 
 worthy of consideration. One of the most startling evidences 
 of mental aberration is conveyed in the sudden and blood- 
 
81 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 chilling alteration in a familiar voice showing that the connex 
 ion between it and reason has been severed. Intelligence is 
 plainly revealed by the voice ; its management betrays culture 
 or the reverse, delicacy or rudeness of life, strength of will, and 
 fastidiousness of taste. It is an index which, to a musical 
 oroanization, is rich in meaning. Lamartine, in his elaborate 
 portrait of Charlotte Corday, says " the tone of her voice that 
 living echo which bespeaks the whole soul in a vibration of the 
 a r left a deep and tender impression in the ear of those whom 
 she addressed ; and they spoke still of that tone ten years after 
 as of remembered music." 
 
 Independent of its quality, the voice affects us in conversation, 
 as blended with the ideas unfolded, or the feelings aroused. 
 Thus defects of speech and lawless elocution have an indefinable 
 charm when associated with the tragic genius of Kean, the 
 stammered wit of Lamb, or the caustic satire of Randolph. A 
 certain thinness of voice often accompanies frivolity of character ; 
 a tremulous emphasis, like that of Channing, prolongs the tones 
 of repressed sensibility ; and generous people have a cordial 
 tone which makes their greeting peculiarly winsome. There is 
 no music like the voices of those we love ; and their similarity 
 in members of the same family, even through different genera 
 tions, has been often remarked. It is very difficult to cultivate 
 the voice without sacrificing its native peculiarities. The best 
 performers are apt to become theatrical even in ordinary dis 
 course especially tragedians. The anecdotes related of Mrs. 
 Siddons illustrate how rare it is to escape the habit of a mea 
 sured utterance when long practised. One of the most fascinat 
 ing charms of women of exquisite temperaments, is a kind of 
 delayed utterance the very poetry of that dreamy mood in 
 which beauty " pays tribute to ease." How often do we find 
 
CONVERSATION. 85 
 
 a naive spell in a lisp, or hesitancy, or in the faint trace of a 
 brogue, or the singularity of a foreign accent ! It is not, there 
 fore, in the mere perfection of the vocal instrument, but rather 
 in the spirit and feeling that informs or attunes it, that we must 
 seek what is delightful and characteristic in the human voice. 
 This subtle, element, the efflorescence and spirit of the mind, is 
 very significantly recognised in Madame de Kalb s remark of 
 Jean Paul, " that the tone that his mind gave without conver 
 sation, was sweeter than the sounds of the harmonica." Silence, 
 indeed, is the nurse of rich expression, and when it descends 
 upon a gifted soul, we feel as we do in gazing upon the brood 
 ing cloud or the fallow earth a delicious sense of latent and 
 forthcoming power ; for the summer lightning is gathered 
 slowly and in quietness ; and fertilizing agencies are silently 
 nursed in the field where no harvest yet waves. Expression 
 too, has its limits, and 
 
 " Full oft 
 
 Our thoughts drown speech, like to a foaming force 
 Which thunders down the echo it creates : 
 Words are like sea-shells on the shore ; they show 
 Where the mind ends and not how far it has been." 
 
 There must be, indeed, a magnetic as well as an intelligent 
 spirit in conversation to render it truly attractive. A well-stored 
 mind, correct and fluent language, ready memory, and gracious 
 manner combined, are yet inadequate unless penetrated by 
 that vital glow and thorough naturalness, which makes the 
 difference between humanity and an intellectual machine. 
 Without a certain airiness the wisest talk is oppressive ; with 
 out a degree of abandon, it is ungenial ; without frankness and 
 ease, it is artificial. Thus a moral beauty, a tone borrowed 
 
86 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 rather from the affections than the will, and a kind of childlike 
 self-oblivion and play of thought, underlie and transfuse the 
 best conversation. How rare is it that we encounter the requi 
 site temperament, wit, enthusiasm, and liberality, which united 
 give birth to so rational and felicitous a pleasure ! We have 
 scores of categorical talkers who, by a kind of local drainage, 
 exhaust the brain and breath with questions ; the aphoristic 
 talkers, or Sir-Oracles, are found in every clique; the rattles, 
 gossips, sentimentalists, Pickwickians, egotists, parlor orators, 
 story-mongers, and Pecksniffs, may be heard buzzing at every 
 party, until the announcement of supper checks the flood of 
 words by an influx of oysters ; but of healthy, sensible, yet 
 genial and humorous talkers, what a dearth ! The love of dis 
 play, sterility of thought, insensibility to what is true and beau 
 tiful and candid, either freezes or makes shallow the stream, 
 that, fed by the " immortal sea," would either flow nobly or 
 sparkle gaily, as it bears the willing mind along : 
 
 " Not an effort, not a will, 
 Yet proceeding swiftly still : 
 Tis to join in one sensation 
 Business both and contemplation ; 
 Active without toil or stress, 
 Passive without listlessness." 
 
 J 
 The most usual conversational errors are that of dwelling upon 
 
 details of no interest or importance, and that of indulging in 
 personalities. It is astonishing how exclusive talk of this kind 
 narrows the views. Far better to aspire than compromise in 
 the encounter of mind to forget petty cares in comprehensive 
 ideas, material influences in random speculation, and self in 
 " thoughts that wander through eternity." When we set aside 
 
CONVERSATION. 8*7 
 
 the familiarity of the thing, what a noble image is man, in self- 
 possessed and courteous dignity, giving utterance to bold 
 opinion or exquisite perception, loving fancies or high emotion ! 
 Hear Longinus in the groves of Palmyra, Michael Angelo in 
 the Medicean garden, the statesmen and authors at Holland 
 House, Madame Roland at the Concierge grate ! Gather up 
 the incense of wisdom and love breathed from the lips of the 
 gifted and the true, lost in the passing air of transient feeling, 
 or the clear, bright hours of spiritual illumination; summon 
 back the music of those few haunting tones that have fallen on 
 the heart, like prophecy, and come to it in dreams ; imagine y 
 how often a thought has stirred " immortal longings," a word 
 of recognition confirmed a sublime yet undecided purpose, a 
 word of sympathy opened a new vista to the desolate, that let 
 in a prospect of heaven, a word of truth fired a genius to write, 
 or a man of action to do that which redeems a nation or a 
 cause; and some faint conception may be realized of the 
 infinite possibilities of conversation. 
 
88 
 
 ART AND ARTISTS. 
 
 High is our calling, friend ! Creative Art, 
 Whether the instrument of words we use, 
 Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues, 
 Demands the service of a mind and heart, 
 Though sensitive, yet in their weakest part 
 Heroically fashioned. 
 
 WORDSWORTH. 
 
 I WAS attracted, recently, by the unfinished sketch of a young 
 artist, who has since lost his reason from the intense activity of 
 a rarely-gifted, but ill-balanced mind. It struck me as an 
 eloquent symbol of his inward experience a touching comment 
 upon his unhappy fate. He called the design "an artist s 
 dream." It represented the studio of a painter. An easel, a 
 palette, a portfolio, and other insignia of the art, are scattered with 
 professional negligence, about the room. At a table sits the 
 youthful painter, his head resting heavily on his arm, buried in 
 sleep. From the opposite side of the canvas the shadowy 
 outline of a long procession seem winding along, the figures 
 growing more distinct as they recede. In the front rank and 
 with more defined countenances, walk the most renowned of the 
 old masters, and pressing hard upon their steps, the humbler 
 members of that noble brotherhood. It was a mere sketch 
 unfinished, but dimly mapped out, like the career of its author, 
 yet full of promise, and indicative of invention. It revealed, 
 too, the dreams of fame that were agitating that young heart ; 
 and proved that his spirit was with the honored leaders of the 
 art. This sketch is a symbol of the life of a true artist. Upon 
 
ART AND ARTISTS. 89 
 
 his fancy throng the images of those whose names are immor 
 tal. It is his day-dream to emulate the great departed, to bless 
 his race, to do justice to himself. The early difficulties of their 
 career, and the excitement of their experience, give to the lives 
 of artists a singular interest. West s first expedient to obtain a 
 brush Barry s proud poverty, Fuseli s vigils over Dante and 
 Milton ; Reynolds, the centre of a gifted society ; the " devout 
 quiet " of Flaxman s home, and similar memories, crowd upon 
 the mind, intent upon their works. Existence, with them, is a 
 long dream. I have ever honored the fraternity, and loved their 
 society, and musing upon the province they occupy in the 
 business of the world, I seem to recognise a new thread of 
 beauty interlacing the mystic tissue of life. In speaking of the 
 true artist, I allude rather to his principles of action, than to his 
 absolute power of execution. Mediocrity, indeed, is sufficiently 
 undesirable in every pursuit, and is least endurable, perhaps, 
 in those with which we naturally associate the highest ideas of 
 excellence. But when we look upon artists as a class when 
 we attempt to estimate their influence as a profession, our 
 attention is rather drawn to the tendency of their pursuit, and 
 to the general characteristics of its votaries. 
 
 " Man !" says Carlyle, " it is not thy works which are all 
 mortal, infinitely little, and the greatest no greater than the 
 least, but only the spirit thou workest in, that can have worth 
 or continuance." In this point of view, the artist, who has 
 adopted his vocation from a native impulse, who is a sincere 
 worshipper of the beautiful and the picturesque, exerts an 
 insensible, but not less real influence upon society, although he 
 may not rank among the highest, or float on the stream of 
 popularity. Let this console the neglected artist. Let this 
 thought comfort him, possessed of one talent if the spirit he 
 
90 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 worketh in is true, he shall not work in vain. Upon some 
 mind his converse will in if raft the elements of taste. In some 
 heart will his lonely devotion to an innocent but unprofitable 
 object, awaken sympathy. In his very isolation in the 
 solitude of his undistinguished and unpampered lot, shall he 
 preach a silent homily to UK; in<-re devotee of gain, and hallow 
 to the eye of many a philanthropist, the scenes of bustling and 
 heartless traffic. 
 
 I often muse upon the life of the true artist until it redeems 
 to my mind, the more prosaic aspects of human existence. It 
 is deeply interesting to note this class of men in Italy. There 
 they breathe a congenial atmosphere. Often subsisting upon 
 the merest, pittance, indulging in every vagary of costume, they 
 wander over the land and yield themselves freely to the spirit 
 of adventure and the luxury of art. They are encountered with 
 their portfolios, in the midst of the lone Campagna, b<-ide the 
 desolate ruin, before the master-pieces of the gallery, arid in the 
 cathedral-chapel. They roam the streets of those old and pic- 
 turesqu^ ritn-s., at night, congregate at the cafe, or sing 
 cheerfully in their studios. They seem a privileged class, and 
 manage, despite their frequent poverty, to appropriate all the 
 delights of Italy. They take long tours on foot in search of the 
 picturesque ; engage in warm discussions together on questions 
 of art, and lay every town they visit under contribution for some 
 little romance. It is a rare pastime to listen to the love-tales 
 and wild speculations of these gay wanderers. The ardent 
 youth from the Rhine, the pensioner from Madrid, and the 
 mecurial Parisian, smoke their pipes in concert, and wrangle 
 good-humoredly over national peculiarities as they copy in the 
 palaces. Thorwaldsen is wont to call his birth-day the day on 
 which he entered liorne. And when we consider to what a new 
 
ART AND ARTISTS. 91 
 
 existence that epoch introduces the artist, the expression is 
 scarcely metaphorical. It is the dawning of a fresher and a 
 richer life the day that makes him acquainted with the wonders 
 of the Vatican, the palace halls lined with the trophies of his 
 profession, the daily walk on the Pincian, the solemn loneliness 
 of the surrounding fields, the beautiful ruins, the long, dreamy 
 day, and all the poetry of life at Rome. Whoever has 
 frequently encountered Thorwaldsen in the crowded saloon, or 
 visited him on a Sabbath morning, must have read in his bland 
 countenance and benignant smile, the record of his long and 
 pleasant sojourn in the Eternal city. To him it was a thea 
 tre of triumph and benevolence. But everywhere in Italy are 
 seen the enthusiastic pilgrims of art who have roamed thither 
 from every part of the globe. Each has his tale of self-denial 
 and his vision of fame. At the shrines of Art they kneel 
 together. Year by year they collect, in the shape of sketches 
 and copies, the cherished memorials of their visit. A few linger 
 on until habit makes the country almost necessary to their 
 existence, and they establish themselves in Florence or Rome. 
 Those whom necessity obliges to depart, tear themselves, full of 
 tearful regret, from the genial clime. Many who come to labor, 
 content themselves with admiring, and glide into dreamy habits, 
 from which want alone can rouse them. Others become the 
 most devoted students, and toil with unremitting energy. A 
 French lady, attached to the Bourbon interest, has long dwelt 
 in Italy, intent upon a monument to Charles X. Her talents 
 for sculpture are of a high order, and her enthusiasm for roy 
 alty, extreme. Her hair is cut short like that of a man, and she 
 wears a dark robe similar to that with which Portia appears on 
 the stage. Instances of a like self-devotion to a favorite project 
 in art, are very common among those who are voluntary exiles 
 
92 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 in that fair land. One reason why the most famous portraits of 
 the old masters, such as the Fornarina of Raphael and La Bella of 
 Titian, are so life-like, and inspire so deep a sense of their authen 
 ticity, is doubtless that the originals were objects of affection, 
 and familiar by constant association and sympathy, to the minds 
 of the artists. This idea is unfolded in one of Webster s plays, 
 where the advantage of a portrait taken without a formal sitting 
 is displayed with much quaintness and beauty : 
 
 " Must you have my picture ? 
 You will enjoin me to a strange punishment. 
 With what a compelled force a woman sits 
 While she is drawing ! I have noted divers 
 Either to feign a smile, or suck in their lips, 
 To have a little mouth ; ruffle the cheeks 
 To have the dimple seen ; and so disorder 
 The face with affectation, at next sitting 
 It has not been the same ; I have known others 
 Have lost the entire fashion of their face 
 In half an hour s sitting, in hot weather, 
 The painting on their face has been so mellow, 
 They have left the poor man harder work by half 
 To mend the copy he wrought by ; but indeed, 
 If ever I should have mine drawn to the life, 
 I would have a painter steal at such a time 
 I were devoutly kneeling at my prayers ; 
 There is then a heavenly beauty in t, the soul 
 Moves in the superficies." 
 
 Though the mere tyros in the field of letters and of art, those 
 who pursue these liberal aims without either the genius that 
 hallows, or the disinterestedness that redeems them, are not 
 worthy of encouragement let respect await the artist whose 
 life and conversation multiply the best fruits of his profession 
 
f 
 ART AND ARTISTS. 93 
 
 whose precept and example are effective, although nature may 
 have endowed him with but a limited practical skill. There is 
 a vast difference between a mere pretender and one whose abi 
 lity is actual, but confined. A man with the soul of an artist is 
 a valuable member of society, although his eye for color may be 
 imperfect, or his drawing occasionally careless. There is, in 
 truth, no more touching spectacle than is presented by a human 
 being whose emotions are vivid, but whose expression is fettered ; 
 in whose mind is the conception which his hand struggles in 
 vain to embody, or his lips to utter. It is a contest between 
 matter and spirit which angels might pity. It is this very 
 struggle on a broad scale which it is the great purpose of all art 
 and all literature to relieve. " It is in me, and it shall come 
 out," said Sheridan, after his first failure as an orator. And the 
 trial of Warren Hastings brought it out. If we could analyse 
 the pleasure derived from the poet and painter, I suppose it 
 would partake much of the character of relief. A great tragedy 
 unburdens the heart. In fancy we pour forth the love, and 
 partake of the sacrifice. And so art gratifies the imagination 
 by reflecting its pictures. The lovely landscape, the faithful 
 portrait, the good historical composition, repeat with more or 
 less authenticity, the story that fancy and memory have long 
 held in a less defined shape. The rude figures on old tapestry, 
 the^jniniature illustrations of ancient missals, the arabesques 
 that decorate the walls of the Alhambra, are so many early 
 efforts to the same end. The inventive designer, the gifted 
 sculptor, the exquisite vocalist, are ministers of humanity, 
 ordained by Heaven. The very attempt to fulfil such high ser 
 vice, so it be made in all truthfulness, is worthy of honor. And 
 where it is partially fulfilled there is occasion for gratitude. 
 Hence I cannot but regard the worthy members of such profes- 
 
94 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 sions with peculiar interest. They have stepped aside from the 
 common thoroughfare to cultivate the flowers by the way-side. 
 They have left the great loom of common industry, to weave 
 " such stuff as dreams are made of." Their office is to keep 
 alive in human hearts, a sense of the grand in combination, the 
 symmetrical in form, the beautiful in color, the touching in sound, 
 the interesting in aspect, of all outward things. They illustrate 
 even to the senses, that truth which is so often forgotten that 
 man does not live by bread alone. As the sunlight is 
 gorgeously reflected by the clouds, they tint even the tearful 
 gloom of mortal destiny with the warm hues of beauty. 
 Artists instruct and refine the senses. With images of grace 
 with smiles of tenderness with figures of noble proportions 
 with tones of celestial melody, they teach the careless heart to 
 distinguish and rejoice in the richest attractions of the world. 
 He who has pondered over the landscapes of Salvator will 
 thenceforth pierce the tangled woodlands with a keener glance, 
 and mark a ship s hulk upon the stocks with unwonted interest. 
 John of Bologna s Mercury will reveal to him the poetry of 
 motion, and the Niobe or the statue of Lorenzo, in the Medici 
 Chapel, make him aware how greatly mere attitude can express 
 the eloquence of grief. The vocalism of a prima donna will 
 unveil the poetical labyrinths of sound. Claude will make him 
 sensible of masses of golden haze before unobserved, and long- 
 scintillations of sunlight gleaming across the western sky. The 
 neck and hair of woman will be better appreciated after studying 
 Guido ; and the characteristic in physiognomy become more strik 
 ing, from familiarity with the portraits of Vandyke. Hogarth, 
 in the humble walk he adopted, not only successfully satirized 
 the vices and follies of London, but gave the common people no 
 small insight into the humorous scenes of their sphere ; and 
 
ART AND ARTISTS. 95 
 
 Gainsborough attracted attention to many a feature of rustic 
 beauty. Pasta, Catalani, and Malibran have opened a new 
 world in music to countless souls, and Mrs. Wood produced 
 an era in the musical taste of our land. The artist thus 
 instructs our vision and hearing. But his teachings end not 
 here. From his portraitures of martyrdoms, of the heroic in 
 human history, of the beautiful in human destiny, whether 
 pencilled or sung, he breathes into the soul new self-respect, and 
 moral refinement. We look at the Magdalen prostrate upon 
 the earth, pressing back the luxuriant hair from her lovely tem 
 ples, her melancholy eyes bent downward, and the lesson of 
 repentance, the blessedness of " loving much," sinks at once into 
 the heart. We muse upon Raphael s Holy Family, and realize 
 anew the sanctity of maternal affections. We commune with 
 the long, silent line of portraits the gifted and the powerful of 
 the earth, and read, at a glance, the most stirring chronicles of 
 war and genius, of effort and suffering, of glory and death. We 
 drink in the tender harmony of Bellini, and the fountains of 
 sentiment are renewed. 
 
 The golden age of Art and Artists, the splendid era that 
 dawned early in the fifteenth century, is one of the most romantic 
 episodes in human history. The magnificent scale of princely 
 patronage, the brilliant succession of unsurpassed productions, 
 and the trials and triumphs of artists that signalize that epoch, 
 place it in the very sunshine of poetry. There is something in 
 the long lives of those eminent men toiling to illustrate the 
 annals of faith, pursuing the beautiful, under the banner of 
 religion, that gives an air of primeval happiness to human toil, 
 and robs the original curse of its bitterness. The lives of the 
 old masters partake of the ideal character of their creations. 
 Scarcely one of their biographies is devoid of adventurous inte- 
 
THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 rest or pathetic incident. Can we not discover in the tone of 
 their works, somewhat of their experience and character ? As 
 the poet s effusions are often unintentionally tinged with his moral 
 peculiarities, is there not a certain identity of spirit between the 
 old artists and their works ? Leonardo supped with peasants 
 and related humorous stories to make them laugh, that he 
 might study the expression of rustic delight ; by writing, con 
 versation, and personal instruction, he promoted that most impor 
 tant revolution, the reconciliation of nicety of finish with noble 
 ness of design and unity of color ; and having thus prepared 
 the way for a higher and more perfect school of art, expired in 
 the embrace of a king. The thought of his efforts as a reformer, 
 and the precursor of the great prophets of art, imparts a grateful 
 sentiment to the mind of the spectator who dwells upon his 
 Nun in the Pitti-palace, the Herodias of the Tribune, and the 
 Last Supper at Milan. In the variety of expression disp%ed 
 in the various heads and attitudes of this last work, we recognise 
 the effect of Leonardo s studies from nature. It is singular that 
 the chief monument to his fame should, of all his works, have 
 met with the greatest vicissitudes. The feet were cut off to 
 enlarge the refectory, upon the walls of which it is painted, and 
 a door has been made through the finest part. It is with a 
 melancholy feeling, that the traveller gazes upon its dim and 
 corroded hues, and vainly strives to trace the clear outlines of a 
 work made familiar by so many engravings. From Leonardo s 
 precision of ideas, the strictness of taste that marked his personal 
 habits, and his attachment to principles of art, something even 
 of the mathematician is recognised in his works. It might be 
 argued from his pictures, that he was no sloven and was fond 
 of rules. Titian s long career of triumph and prosperity was 
 cheerful and rich as the hues of his canvas, dream-like as his 
 
ART AND ARTISTS. 9*7 
 
 own Venice ; his fair and bright-haired mistress, his honors and 
 wealth, contrasting strangely with a death amid pestilence and 
 desertion, come over the memory like a vivid picture. In 
 infancy, Titian colored a print of the Virgin with the juice of 
 flowers, in a masterly manner. In early youth he deserted his 
 teachers for the higher school nature opened to him. The 
 passers uncovered to his portrait of Paul III., as it rested on a 
 terrace at Rome, deeming it alive ; and when Charles V. of 
 Spain sat to him for the last portrait, he exclaimed, " This is 
 the third time I have been made immortal !" These exuberant 
 tokens of contemporary appreciation these, and countless- other 
 indications of a life of success and enjoyment, seem woven into 
 the fleshy tints of his Venus, and laugh out in the bright faces 
 of Flora and La Bella. And Correggio s sad story ; his 
 lowly toil as a potter, the electric joy with which the conviction 
 came home to him, that he, too, was a painter ; his lonely 
 struggle with obscure poverty ; his almost utter want of appre 
 ciation and sympathy ; the limits of a narrow lot pressing upon 
 so fine a soul, and then his rare achievements and bitter death, 
 worn down by the weight of the very lucre his genius had 
 gained, can fancy, in her widest range, depict a more affecting 
 picture of the " highest in man s heart struggling vainly against 
 the lowest in man s destiny ?" His Magdalene, bowed down 
 yet serene, sad yet beautiful, sinful yet forgiven, is an emblem 
 as lovely as it is true, of the genius and fate of Correggio. 
 Salvator Rosa has written the history of his own life in those 
 wild landscapes he loved so well. One might have inferred his 
 Neapolitan origin. There is that in his pictures that breathes 
 of a southern fancy. We there feel not the chastened tone of a 
 Tuscan mind, not the religious solemnity of a Roman, but 
 
 rather the half-savage genius of that singular region, where the 
 
 5 
 
98 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 lazzaroni sleep on the strand and the fishermen grow swarthy 
 beneath the warmest sky of Italy. The wanderer, the lover of 
 masquerade, he who mingled in the revolt of Massaniello, and 
 roamed amid the gloomy grandeur of the mountains, speaks to 
 us from the canvas of Salvator. Delicacy and affection, taste 
 and sentiment characterize Raphael s paintings. There is in 
 them that refinement of tone, born only of delicate natures, 
 such as this rude world often jars into the insanity of an 
 Ophelia, or bows to the early tomb of a Kirk White. Murillo s 
 style has been characterized as between the Flemish and high 
 Italian, and we are told that, as a man, he combined rare sim 
 plicity of manners .with the greatest elevation and modesty of 
 soul. Michael Angelo has traced the inflexibility of his nature in 
 the bust of Brutus, his self-possessed virtue in the calm grandeur 
 of his muscular figures. One dreams over them of stern inte 
 grity and noble self-dependence. 
 
 It is common to talk of the genius of artists as partaking of 
 the " fine phrensy " attributed to that of the poet. The intense 
 excitement which accompanies the process of conception, is, 
 however, comparatively rare, with the votaries of art. They 
 have this advantage over the great thinker and the earnest 
 bard that much of their labor is mechanical, and calls rather 
 for the exercise of taste than mental effort. There is, indeed, a 
 period in every work when imagination is greatly excited and 
 the whole mind fervidly active, but the painter and sculptor 
 have many intervals of repose, when physical dexterity and 
 imitative skill are alone requisite. And when the hand of the 
 artist has acquired that habitual power which makes it ever 
 obedient to the will, when he is perfectly master of the whole 
 machinery of his art, and is confident of realizing, to a great 
 degree, his every conception, a delightful serenity takes possession 
 
ART AND ARTIST 8. 99 
 
 of his mind. Calm trust in his own resources, and the daily 
 happiness of watching the growth of his work, induce a placid 
 and hopeful mood. And when his aim is exalted and his 
 success progressive, there are few happier men. They have an 
 object, the interest of which familiarity cannot lessen nor time 
 dissipate. They follow an occupation delightful and serene. 
 The atmosphere of their vocation is above the " smoke and stir 
 of this dim spot that men call earth." The graceful, the vivid, 
 and the delicate elements of their art, refine their sensibilities 
 and elevate their views. Nature and life minister to them more 
 richly than to those who only " poke about for pence." Hence 
 the masters of the art have generally been remarkable for 
 longevity. Their tranquil occupation, and the happy exercise 
 of their faculties were favorable to life. 
 
 It has been said of Michael Angelo s pupils, that they were 
 "nursed in the lap of grandeur." And it may be said of all 1 
 true artists, that they are buoyed up by that spirit of beauty; 
 that is so essential to true happiness. I have ever found in 
 genuine artists, a remarkable simplicity and truthfulness of 
 character. There is a repose about them as of men who 
 commune with something superior, and for whom the frivolous 
 idols of the multitude have no attraction. I have found them 
 usually fond of music, and if not addicted to general literature, 
 ardently attached to a particular poet. They read so constantly 
 the book of nature, that written lore is not so requisite for them. 
 The human face, the waving bough, the flower and the cloud, 
 the fantastic play of the smouldering embers, moonlight on a 
 cornice, and the vast imagery of dreams, are full of teachings for 
 them. 
 
 There is a definiteness in the art of sculpture, that renders its 
 language more direct and immediate than that of painting. 
 
100 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 Masses of stone were revered as idols, in remote antiquity ; and 
 men soon learned to hew them into rude figures. When 
 architecture, the elder sister of sculpture, had given birth to 
 temples of religion, the statues of deities were their chief 
 ornaments. Images of domestic gods existed as early as the 
 twenty-third century before the Christian era. The early 
 Indian and Hindoo idols, as well as the gloomy sculpture of the 
 Egyptians, evidence how naturally the art sprang from the 
 human mind, even before a refined taste had developed its real 
 dignity. Sculpture was a great element of Grecian culture. In 
 the age of Pericles, it attained perfection. In the square and 
 the temple, on the hill-top and within the private dwelling, the 
 beautiful productions of the chisel met the eye. They addressed 
 every sentiment of devotion and patriotism. They filled the soul 
 with ideals of symmetry and grace, and the traces of their silent 
 eloquence were written in the noble air, the harmonious 
 costume, and the very forms of the ancient Greeks. The era of 
 ideal models and a classic style passed away. In the thirteenth 
 century, the art revived in Italy, and there are preserved some 
 of the noblest specimens of Grecian genius, as well as those to 
 which M. Angelo and his countrymen gave birth. The Apollo 
 looks out upon the sky of Rome, while the Venus " loves in 
 stone" and Niobe bends over her clinging babe in the Florence 
 gallery. Shelley used to say, that he would value a peasant s 
 criticism upon sculpture, as much as that of the most educated 
 man. Form is, indeed, more easily judged than color. There 
 is a certain vagueness in painting, while sculpture is palpable, 
 bold, and clear. There is a severe nobility in the art ; its influ 
 ence is to calm and elevate rather than excite. The Laocoon, 
 Niobe, and Alessandro doloroso are indeed expressions of passion ; 
 but they are striking exceptions. Sculpture soothes the impetu- 
 
ART AND ARTisSf s. lOl, 
 
 ous soul. The heads of the honored dead wear ,a solemn 
 dignity. The stainless and cold marble breathes a pure repose, 
 stamped with the calm of immortality. In walking through 
 the Vatican by torch-light, we might deem ourselves, without 
 much exercise of fancy, in a world of spirits. The tall white 
 figures looming forward in the gloom, the snowy faces, upon 
 which the flambeaux glare, the winding drapery and the out 
 stretched arm, strike the eye in that artificial light, with a start 
 ling look of life. One feels like an intruder into some hall of 
 death, or conclave of the great departed. A good bust is an 
 invaluable memorial; it preserves the features and expression 
 without their temporary hue. There is associated with it the 
 idea of durability and exactitude. Though the most common 
 offspring of sculpture, it is one of the rarest in perfection. Few 
 sculptors can copy nature so faithfully as to give us the very 
 lineaments wholly free from caricature or embellishment. 
 Those who have an eye for the detail of expression, often fail in 
 general effect. To copy the form of the eye, the texture of the 
 hair, every delicate line of the mouth, and yet preserve through 
 out an air of verisimilitude and that unity of effect which 
 always exists in nature, is no ordinary achievement. The requi 
 site talent must be a native endowment ; no mechanical dex 
 terity can ever reach it. " A thing of beauty is a joy for ever." 
 This sentiment spontaneously fills the heart in view of the great 
 products of the chisel. We contemplate the Niobe and Apollo, 
 as millions have before us, with growing delight and the most 
 intense admiration. They have come down to us from departed 
 ages, like messengers of love; they assure us, with touching 
 eloquence, that human genius and affection, the aspirations and 
 wants, the sorrow and the enthusiasm of the soul, were ever the 
 same ; they invoke us to endure bravely and to cherish the 
 
105, . TTIFOTTIMIST. 
 
 beautiful and true, as our best heritage. So speak they and so 
 will they speak to unborn generations. In the silent poetry of 
 their expressive forms lives a perennial sentiment. They keep 
 perpetual state, and give the world audience, that it may feel 
 the eternity of genius, and the true dignity of man. It is 
 delightful to believe that sculpture is destined to flourish among 
 us. It is truly the art of a young republic. Let it perpetuate 
 the features of our patriots, and multiply forms of grace and 
 sublimity to elevate the taste and keep alive nobility of senti 
 ment in the people. 
 
103 
 
 LYRIC POETRY. 
 
 Poetry is right-royal. It puts the individual for the species, the one above the 
 
 infinite many. 
 
 HAZLITT. 
 
 IT seems to be generally conceded that the era of dramatic 
 poetry is at an end. Although some of the most recent 
 specimens in this department of literature have commanded 
 a certain degree of public attention and elicited the applause of 
 critics, they evidently, when compared with the old English 
 tragedy, belong to a different school and possess an inferior 
 interest. The object of the writer seems to be not so much to 
 depict inward struggles as to narrate a tale and chronicle a few 
 gems of expression. Modern plays, even of the best kind, seem 
 rather scaffoldings to support a story or convenient threads on 
 which to string the pearls of thought, than " mirrors of nature " 
 or profound pictures of life and humanity. The King of Sparta, 
 when he saw a machine for casting stones, called it " the grave 
 of valor ;" so the refined machinery of our social state may be 
 regarded as the sepulchre of that freshness of feeling, that 
 heartiness of self-development, that frank, adventurous, and bold 
 character, which marks the dawn of civilization, and is the 
 fertile source of a powerful literature. The surface of society in 
 this age is too level to be picturesque. The scope for mental 
 and physical enterprise is too constrained for striking display. 
 The motives now at work are for the most of a personal and 
 contracted nature. The element of heroism finds its chief 
 activity in endurance. Life, indeed, is the same scene of struggle, 
 
THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 exposure, and excitement, but its energies are alive chiefly to the 
 moral experience of each man, instead of being exhibited, as in 
 the chivalric ages, upon the broad arena of the world and before 
 the gaze of multitudes. 
 
 The diffusion of knowledge seems to have produced the same 
 effect upon epic poetry that social refinement has upon dramatic. 
 Men are no longer divided into the grossly ignorant and greatly 
 learned. There is an immense intermediate class, whose 
 vocations prevent extensive erudition, but whose minds are 
 awakened by popular education, and improved by intercourse 
 with superior intelligence and occasional reading. Hence 
 scholarship is not the rare distinction it once was, nor literary 
 enjoyment the exclusive privilege of a few. These, among other 
 considerations, give weight to the remark of a distinguished 
 writer, that the " era of universal individualities is past. 1 Nor 
 is this the only reason for the decline of epic poetry. Literature 
 is so common a luxury that the age has grown fastidious. The 
 moralist is expected to allure men to virtue by his beautiful 
 rhetoric. Philosophy must be illustrated by charming 
 metaphors or captivating fiction ; and history, casting 
 aside the tedious garb of formal narrative, is required to 
 assume a scenic costume, and teem with the connected interest 
 of a fascinating tale. The poet, too, must distil his roses 
 and touch his harp at graceful intervals. His auditors will grow 
 weary over an elaborate production, unless it is wrought out 
 with rare felicity or boasts some novel attraction. The nice 
 appetite of a modern reader is soon sated. However great his 
 poetical taste, fifty pages of blank verse are too formidable to be 
 adventured, and the mere sight of half a dozen cantos of heroics 
 provokes a yawn. The times are too busy, outward activity too 
 absorbing, and the calls upon attention too unremitted, to permit 
 
LYRIC POETRY. 105 
 
 us to engage in those long and wide-sweeping literary forays in 
 which the Germans are so fond of indulging. Accordingly, 
 poetry has taken a form more favorable to its circulation. It 
 has cast off its ponderous armor and donned a more courtly 
 dress. It seeks to concentrate its spirit in diminutive and 
 graceful forms. It woos the magic process recorded in Arabian 
 tales, and has discovered the art of contracting its vital elements 
 into minute shapes, and soaring on gossamer wings. Lyric 
 poetry is thus in vogue from the peculiar circumstances of the 
 age. It obtains not less on account of the increased personality, 
 if I may so speak, of a man himself. A series of external 
 events, however well described in stately verse, are now deemed 
 less entertaining than a single incident or emotion freshly por 
 trayed from a living mind. The individual is thought more 
 interesting than the mass. A single encounter attracts more 
 spectators than a promiscuous battle. We have had leisure, in 
 our unadventurous times, to discover the finer points of interest 
 in the great picture of human life. Christian civilization has 
 worked a daguerreotype process upon the common and universal 
 light of mind. It is at length revealed that a profound interest 
 attaches to the humblest of our fellow-creatures. The scions of 
 aristocracy can sit for hours upon their splendid ottomans, amid 
 mirrors, vases, and all the paraphernalia of fashionable luxury, 
 conning with tearful eyes the memoirs of a parish boy ; and the 
 accomplished daughters of a pampered nobility quote the 
 homely expressions of Jeannie Deans instead of the elegant 
 sentimentality of Metastasio. Sensibility to the universal and 
 quiet facts of human nature, renders the poetic records of an 
 individual s experience singularly attractive. The truth is now 
 acknowledged, that a poet may be personal without being 
 
 egotistical. The regret, the love, or the hopes poured forth in 
 
 5 
 
106 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 his song, are indeed tinged with his idiosyncrasy, but they are 
 essentially the same as sway the bosoms of his race, and even 
 what is peculiar in their phases doubtless finds its reflection. 
 Lyric poetry survives the drama and the epic, because it is 
 indissolubly entwined with individual destiny. The latter may be 
 buried in the grave of nationality, but the former has a perma 
 nent home in the bosom of man. It is common to lament this 
 revolution in poetic taste and practice. It is frequently cited as 
 an evidence of mental degeneracy. There was adequate cause 
 for this at ; those periods when the lyric was more artificial : at 
 the early part of the seventeenth century, for instance, when 
 verses were written only to bestow degrading adulation or 
 embody extravagant similes, that profanely assumed to express 
 love, and overflowed with false wit, the concetti of the Italians, 
 and a thousand tinsel absurdities. But the objection does not 
 hold when applied to the legitimate lyric, and especially to 
 those of a period when the love of freedom and humanizing 
 sentiment abound, and find their sweetest expression in song. . 
 Poetry is too earnest, now, to be devoted to the minute portraiture 
 of a metaphysical passion, whose fanciful display proves its hol- 
 lowness. The lyrists of our day have too often struck the deep 
 chords of the heart, to expect effects from cold associations of 
 imagery or forced tricks of versification. , Dft^vU^ 
 
 There is abundant cause to rejoice in the popularity of lyric 
 poetry. It has one advantage over the more pretending 
 branches of the art, which cannot but endear it to the lover of 
 his race. It is more penetrating and diffusive. Let not the 
 philosopher frown upon the lesser vehicles of thought and senti 
 ment. They reach many bosoms that would otherwise remain 
 wholly unblessed by their genial influence. No error has more 
 impeded human progress than the cumbrous arrangements of 
 
LYRIC POETRY. 107 
 
 its mistaken friends. In this regard, nature teaches a subtle 
 wisdom. The gentle beams of the serene moon sway the mighty 
 sea, and the noiseless dew freshens the whole world of vegeta 
 tion. It has been said that tracts, in earlier times, disseminated 
 more knowledge than volumes, and we all know that periodical 
 literature has proved a mightier agent, in the world of opinion, 
 than learned quartos. The romance of history has threaded a 
 wider range in the shape of legendary ballads, than in that of 
 elaborate chronicles ; and lyric poetry has wafted the seeds of 
 truth and the flowers of fancy to many a desert nook of the 
 earth. While the men-of-war of literature the Iliads and 
 Divine Comedies have swept proudly before the breeze of 
 Time, on the broad ocean of life, lyrical compositions, when born 
 of the true heart and the fervent imagination, have glided, in 
 meek beauty, into the lonely bays, or borne their freights of 
 love to the unvisited shores of some solitary isle. Lyrics are 
 like sacred sparks of Promethean fire, floating down to light up 
 a happy glow in the shadowy soul. They are as Spring blos 
 soms gently dropping from the tree of knowledge, to cheer the 
 passing pilgrim ; stray Peris from the bowers of Paradise, 
 creeping playfully into the chambers of the heart ; single strains 
 of rare music, waking long echoes ; wild flowers, blooming by 
 the wayside and in the stony interstices of life s rude pathway. 
 They catch the eye of the toiler, in the corner of a newspaper, 
 and impart a momentary but sweet refreshment. They greet 
 the ear of pleasure s votary, in the gay saloon, borne on the 
 wings of some insinuating melody, and the impression lingers 
 with a healing charm, to soothe the wounds of vanity and 
 soften the iciness of pride. In hours of listlessness or depression, 
 they come self-invoked, from the caves of memory, bringing 
 repose and freshness in their perennial bloom. " A wave of 
 
108 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 genuine Helicon," says Lamb, " is your only Spa for these 
 hypochondriacs." As the falcon launched trustingly heaven 
 ward is lost to view, the course of the higher poetry often soars 
 beyond the ken of the multitude ; and as the humbler birds 
 carol blithely round our dwellings, so the meeker lays of the 
 muse linger tunefully about the heart. 
 
 The genuine lyric is the offspring of Sincere feeling the 
 expression of poetic experience. Completeness and unity of 
 design are essential to its perfection ; for " song is but the elo 
 quence of truth." It is a common error to wonder at the rarity 
 of poetic production where the gift is known to be possessed. 
 But lyrical inspiration is not arbitrary ; it is spontaneous. / In its 
 very essence it is occasional. A true poet of this order must be 
 excited by some circumstance of interest, or some sentiment of 
 power. The Lake poets have desecrated their fame by writing 
 artificially. Where their themes have been true, their interest 
 real, the result is always effective. 
 
 The lyric should illustrate a single great truth, or exemplify 
 one o\ 7 erpowering sentiment. When descriptive, it is best 
 adapted to portray isolated events or celebrate individual 
 objects. A battle, a favorite tree, a romantic incident of any 
 sort is thus succinctly sung, and around such a nucleus gather 
 the crystallizations of thought in brilliant harmony. The lover 
 can thus breathe his daring hopes or insinuate his affectionate re 
 proaches ; the bereaved twine an elegiac garland around the tomb 
 where his heart lies buried ; the devotional utter their trust and 
 gratitude ; and the soul touched with the glories of creation, find 
 a medium to whisper its orisons. The capabilities of the lyric 
 are as various as the events of life. Better moments are 
 therein embalmed. .Cheering truthis are thus familiarly 
 enshrined ; consecrated tapers lighted before the altars of the 
 
LYRIC POETRY. 109 
 
 wayside. Lyric poetry is remarkably adapted to our own busy 
 and unimaginative country. Who can estimate the germs of 
 virtue or the refinement of sentiment induced among our people, 
 by the lyrics which the gazettes and school-books of the country 
 have borne to the minds of millions ? Recited by the child at 
 the fireside, chanted by the maiden at the piano, quoted by the 
 divine and the lecturer, they have disseminated an atmosphere 
 of taste, and awakened the springs of genius. 
 
 Let those who are disposed to question our estimate of lyric 
 poetry as a means of culture and a herald of fame, recollect the 
 popularity of Beranger a, songs in France, the acknowledged 
 influence of Goethe s and Schiller s lyrics in Germany, and the 
 ardor with which the Modern Italians cite Filicaja and Monti. 
 Or ..rather, let the objector scan his own mental history, and 
 glance at the actual renown of the bards of our own language. 
 Who reads any of Dry den s ambitious attempts in literature ; 
 yet what schoolboy is not familiar with his ode on St. Cecilia s 
 day ? How few comprehend the philosophical system of 
 Coleridge^ compared with those who have been exalted by his 
 Hymn in the Vale of Chamouni, and thrilled under the touching 
 sweetness of his Genevieve ! Cowper s long poem, to no incon 
 siderable class of readers, is indeed a task ; but what heart can fail 
 to melt at the tenderness of his Lines to his Mother s Picture ? 
 Korner s few songs are cherished memorials of his bravery and 
 death, in a thousand hearts. "Not a drum was heard, nor a 
 funeral note," we are told, when the gallant Sir John Moore 
 was interred on a foreign soil, but the Monody of Wolfe has 
 sent down the stream of time a picture of that lonely sepulture, 
 which will be felt when the solemn pageantry of Napoleon s 
 funeral has passed into oblivion. Gray s scholarship is as a 
 forgotten tale, but his Elegy has floated, upon solemn wings, 
 
110 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 through the wasting atmosphere of years. The Cotter s 
 Saturday Night has hallowed Scotland to the imaginative, more 
 than the fame of all her battles ; and Heber s Missionary Hymn 
 has done more for the cause than the pleadings of a hundred 
 preachers. The poetry of the affections has been scattered from 
 the lyre of Mrs. Hemans, around the hearthstones and graves of 
 two mighty nations ; and the songs of Moore enliven the feast 
 and speak for the lover, in the sequestered village, amid the 
 halls of pleasure, and on the lonely sea. The waterfowl, thanks 
 to an American lyrist, as he skims the hazy air of twilight, now 
 bears a consoling truth to the hearts of mortals ; and the hero 
 of modern Greece has been canonized, as a saint of freedom, by a 
 bard of the New World. 
 
 Domestic life has gradually become the great scene of human 
 experience. Ambition aims at social distinction, and has lost 
 much of its reverence for martial honor. The same order of spirits 
 that would have sacrificed everything for knightly preferment, 
 are now content with bearing off the honors of a conversazione. 
 Men whose earnest natures would have made them, in the 
 fourteenth century, military leaders or bold navigators, now 
 emulate the serener fame of diplomacy or letters, and " do their 
 spriting gently." Existence has grown more and more con 
 centrated ; effort has assumed an individual aspect ; comfort is 
 estimated beyond glory, and Christianity has made men repose, 
 with a new confidence, on the meeker virtues ; and thus the 
 bold and striking features of humanity, upon which dramatic 
 genius fixes its regard, and to which the sympathies of ruder 
 communities are strongly responsive, have, little by little, 
 assumed a softer tone, and a more delicate contour. 
 The muscular limbs of Michael Angelo s statues strike our gaze 
 with a startling effect. The old towers of the middle ages 
 
LYRIC FOE TRY. Ill 
 
 look mysterious in their mouldering might. The earnest eyes 
 of the old female portraits, and the heavy armor of the warriors, 
 wear a most formidable appearance ; and so the impassioned 
 adjurations of jealousy, the daring wickedness of ambition, the 
 extravagant fantasies of love, as drawn by Shakspeare, come 
 upon us like the mighty voices of a higher humanity, the half- 
 forgotten tones of a more earnest race. 
 
112 
 
 SOCIAL LIFE. 
 
 " Tis an old usage, known to all 
 In the great world, to make ourselves small." 
 
 GOETHE. 
 
 THE ladies of our metropolis lately manifested a singular 
 want of esprit du corps in countenancing, by their fair presence, 
 the opening of a new and splendid Club-house. The spirit of 
 trade interposes a sufficient barrier already to social progress 
 and enjoyment. In London the club system has withdrawn 
 the cleverest men from the drawing-rooms ; and if foreigners 
 so justly wonder at the superiority of female culture in America, 
 and our travelled countrywomen complain of the emptiness of the 
 professed beaux, and the stolidity of the business men they 
 encounter, they should frown upon, instead of encouraging all 
 projects which tend to make the social pleasures of the other 
 sex exclusive. It was, then quite inconsiderate in them to greet, 
 with their smiles, the elegant rooms of the Racket Club ; and it 
 is equally so perhaps for the sincere aspirants for a better order 
 of social life, to lend their plaudits to amateur concerts another 
 recent invention of fashionable vanity to escape from the inane 
 routine of trivial or stupid intercourse. Both these signs of the 
 times make evident the deficiencies of social life, and eloquently 
 suggest its true claims, to which we propose to devote a few 
 pages in the hope of placing them before the minds of our 
 readers in what we believe a just point of view. 
 
 Some of the pictures we have of those lesser but permanent 
 circles of French society where a gifted woman makes her 
 
SOCIAL LIFE. 113 
 
 house a nucleus for the periodical gathering of the same friends, 
 are a delightful contrast to merely fashionable assemblies. 
 It would appear that the very faioiliarity-^wkh vach"TTther*s 
 modes of thought serves but to rivet the bond, for where there 
 is intellectual vigor and sincerity of feeling, habit only strengthens 
 attachment. At such reunions many of the philosophers of 
 the last century spent their evenings for successive years ; and 
 their recreative effect seems never to have diminished until 
 death interrupted the enlightened pastime. A beautiful simpli 
 city is also evinced in some of the social habits of Germany, 
 where learning, talent, or worth, however obscurely lodged, 
 easily calls around it kindred elements. Often the wealthiest 
 citizen is found domesticated in the humble apartment of a 
 poor savan or laborious author. The unaffected interchange of 
 thought, a perfectly artless manner, and the sustained interest 
 of genuine conversation, throw over these occasions an enduring 
 spell. They illustrate the sufficiency of mental resources and 
 truth of character as a basis of association, and their freedom 
 from pedantry and ostentation, is refreshing to all who have 
 grown weary of elegant conventionalism and material expe 
 dients. 
 
 The conversazione of the Italians boasts, at least, the advan 
 tages of good-nature and independence. Those large and 
 scantily furnished halls opening upon a cool balcony overlooking 
 a garden, and deliciously adapted for t&te-a-t&tes or reveries 
 are paced without any feeling of restraint, and yet with a plea 
 sant consciousness of society. The piano, the card-table, or an 
 ottoman, invite each guest to consult his mood ; and the tray of 
 ices in the corner, indicates how little superfluity of means has 
 to do with real hospitality in the estimation of that sympathetic 
 people. Tliere is a most agreeable facility, too, in opera visit- 
 
114 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 ing. The shadowy boxes wherein an acquaintance drops to 
 exchange a greeting, or an intimate lingers to hear a duo, at 
 once break the ice of ceremony. In fact, as far as general 
 intercourse is concerned, the art social resolves itself into 
 eschewing as much as possible all machinery, the abridgment 
 of etiquette in short, the opening of a convenient arena where 
 on the touch and go process the glance, the inquiry, and the 
 salutation may be enacted with as little expense of time and 
 form as may be. All beyond this is but the exaction of vanity. 
 
 Literary society, unless modified by knowledge of the world 
 or generous feeling, is far from desirable. Professed authors 
 who over-estimate their vocation, are too full of themselves to 
 be agreeable companions. The demands of their egotism are 
 inveterate. They seem to be incapable of that abandon which 
 is the requisite condition of social pleasure ; and bent upon 
 winning a tribute of admiration, or some hint which they can 
 turn to the account of pen-craft, there is seldom in their com 
 pany any of the delightful unconsciousness which harmonizes a 
 circle. Those, on the contrary, to whom literature has been 
 only one of many elements of experience, derive from it a grace 
 and aptitude which adorn and enliven social life. It is only 
 the intense and narrow school of literary people of which we 
 must beware, for it is far more refreshing to consort with an 
 honest farmer, or a whole-souled mariner, who talks intelligently 
 of crops or with zeal of " hair-breadth scapes," than with one 
 who cannot lose, for a moment, the sense of authorship in the 
 instinct of manhood or the grace of womanhood. Whoever 
 has set his whole heart upon book-making had better be sought 
 in his works, for it is only the lees of his cup of life which he 
 offers, in person, to the warm lips of his fellows. 
 
 The attractive reminiscences traced with such zeal by men 
 
SOCIAL LIFE . 115 
 
 like Hazlitt and Hood ; the discussions journalized by Madame 
 D Arblay ; the minute details of Johnsonian argument ; and 
 the enthusiastic record of Fuseli s criticism, Mackintosh s acumen, 
 Lamb s wit, and Coleridge s eloquence, do not invalidate this 
 position. There was a pregnant reality either in the individuals, 
 or the subjects thus consecrated. Authors of such a rank have 
 souls as well as talent. They are capable of losing themselves 
 in their themes, and were too much in earnest for hollow dis 
 play. Their convivialities were inspired by heartiness, and their 
 play of mind was frank and spontaneous. A late London 
 epistle says : " That which this great metropolis most wants 
 its greatest, its almost only intellectual want is an easy resort 
 of the lettered and the gifted. No public institutions will do. 
 One sickens at the thought. To establish one s self by privilege 
 among lions, to go anywhere expressly to be wise, is enough to 
 put a super crust of pride and indifference on any honest nature. 
 All good society must be private. Holland House has ceased 
 to be the centre of all that refines, interests, and elevates society. 
 We have now no centre ; our commonwealth of letters is turned 
 up-side down. It wants a protector." 
 
 The artistic organization is rich in fine social qualities. Art 
 is a magnet that places in true relations the most sensitive and 
 intelligent beings. It is a most available medium whereby to 
 escape the daily burden of necessity, and bring into speedy 
 action the latent humanities. 
 
 Society is the offspring of leisure ; and to acquire this, forms 
 the only rational motive for accumulating wealth, notwithstand 
 ing the cant that prevails on the subject of labor. Statistics 
 prove that longevity is promoted by a life of ease; and the 
 English gentry are a living proof of the animal perfection 
 attained by freedom from manual toil and harassing care. The 
 
116 THE O PTI MIST. 
 
 brain consists of a variety of organs, and both physical and 
 mental health is secured through their activity. The unceasing 
 exercise of a part of this delicate organ whether in the region 
 of the passions or the intellect, results in a morbid condition. 
 Sensation is blunted and emotion quelled by toil. We are apt 
 to confound mere indolence with gentle excitement ; yet wisdom 
 and the exalted pleasures born of a sensitive temperament ori 
 ginated in the East ; and the very alliance which nature indi 
 cates between enjoyment and exercise, is, in itself, a powerful 
 argument in favor of comparative repose. Character is but an 
 equilibrium of the faculties a latent and self-adjusting force ; 
 love is the tranquillity arising from gratified sympathies, and 
 the highest forms of thought are evolved from the unconscious 
 workings of a mind freely and genially productive. We do 
 not associate painful throes with the brilliant sallies of wit, or 
 the earnest flow of ideas that come forth in conversation. As 
 the seed germinates, or the buds open, as the cloud-founts 
 gather, or the breeze swells, so expands the inward life of 
 humanity ; and there is something essentially factitious in the 
 bustle of affairs, and the intensity of application, growing out of 
 illegitimate processes, or formal abstraction. Around all per 
 fect things there lingers a voluptuous atmosphere. A winsome 
 facility of expression is one of the vital charms of genuine litera 
 ture as if it were an ebullition a growth a spontaneous 
 utterance the offspring of honest impulse. Study is properly 
 attention, and this, to be effective, is voluntary. Circumstances 
 or accident may favor it, but it must originate in instinct. The 
 sensibility of our frames,, the alacrity of our observation, and 
 the warmth of our feelings, are best realized, not by sustained 
 and dogged industry, but by freedom, serenity, and retirement. 
 Thus are kept alive the powers that become exhausted or inflexi- 
 
THE OPT IMIST. 117 
 
 ble when whipped into service. The eye that keeps perpetual 
 vigil over self-interest, soon fails to be a mirror of the soul ; the 
 cheek bronzed in strife for gain, cannot kindle with the evanes 
 cent but ravishing glow ; the brow habitually knit in anxiety 
 "about many things," boasts no glorious serenity; the hand 
 toughened at the plough or the work-bench, is no longer a mag 
 netic instrument. The intricate tissue of nerves which bear 
 from heart and brain electric impressions, gradually refuse to 
 mould the will as muscularity develops. All that is profound 
 in expression and touching in consciousness, all that unites 
 human intelligence with outward beauty the truthjrf beiug. 
 and the essence of lite depend upon preserving the individual 
 susceptibilities of o^r pfrtntfl. 
 
 Tq. beings thus constituted is it not singularly unwise to be 
 guidedbv_noj)ij.nciples in social life ? As* a simple question of 
 culture, the social atmosphere with which we surround ourselves 
 is one of great significance, but viewed in reference to peace of 
 mind, sincerity and happiness, it is difficult to limit its agency. 
 There is, in this country, a random, gregarious habit of inter 
 course, which continually trenches upon self-respect, and lowers 
 the tone of manners ; and this is not exclusively owing to our 
 political institutions, although they undoubtedly contribute to 
 it. Nothing seems so much dreaded as the reputation of 
 eccentricity or exclusiveness ; and the reproach of selfishness is 
 thoughtlessly annexed to all who thus differ from the multitude. 
 The truth is, however, that such are usually the best adapted 
 to any social exigency. They constitute a reserve guard who 
 freshly enter the breach where more popular individuals falter. 
 In some peculiar ministry they are found eminently serviceable, 
 and make up in the quality of their communion for its infre- 
 quency. T^he instant any true and penetrating relation marks 
 
118 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 the life of any of these social prodigals, there springs up a 
 poignant regret that so much earnestness of feeling had been 
 previously wasted, and that there remains so little of the original 
 power of concentration to nourish the faith which has, at length, 
 taken possession of the heart. And this is no selfish considera 
 tion, for it is then felt that, clad in the sustaining armor of such 
 relations, we are infinitely better able to endure for ourselves 
 and minister to others. Those whose sympathies are for ever 
 drained, and blest with no fountain whence to replenish, are 
 thwarted not only of their legitimate enjoyment, but of their 
 just usefulness. " My poor Zimmerman, who now will under 
 stand thee ?" was the affecting inquiry which the wife of the 
 author of " Solitude," addressed him on her death-bed. How 
 much is contained yj the question ! It suggests years of patient 
 affection a tolerance of faults based on an intimate acquaint 
 ance with virtues a loving insight into the springs of charac 
 ter, which made the casual aspect at the surface of no account. 
 To be understood this also is a necessity growing partly out 
 of the conviction that nearly all our so-called social life is arti 
 ficial and meaningless. 
 
 Society, perhaps, more than any other element of life, gives 
 scope to the extremes of fact and fiction, of caprice and devotion, 
 of frankness and feigning. On the one hand it is a most com 
 plete masquerade, and on the other a profound reality. To the 
 majority of persons it affords singular pleasure to escape from 
 themselves by experimenting on others to enact for a while a 
 degree of refinement, wisdom, knowledge of the world, and even 
 romance, quite foreign to their natures. In women of spirit, 
 such a pastime is quite delightful ; it exercises their ingenuity, 
 gratifies their love of admiration, and yields sometimes the most 
 charming self-delusion. It is their arena and diplomacy, a 
 
SOCIAL LIFE. 119 
 
 kind of imaginary kingdom, wherein to forget the restrictions 
 or the monotony of their career. It is social life in its conven 
 tional and dramatic aspect ; but the reaction to the genuine is 
 often proportionally earnest ; for we are very children in those 
 relations voluntarily assumed from the inspiration of genial 
 contact. 
 
 The greatest of luxuries is to throw aside the disguise and 
 come down from the watch-tower. Like native air to the 
 returning exile is the tested and satisfying presence of those, 
 who to us are, in truth, society ; and there is no desolation like 
 outgrowing such genuine human ties. What pathos in Elia s 
 regret at the death of a friend of his youth " There is no one 
 left to call me Charley now !" 
 
 Thus the very term social life, has two quite diverse associa 
 tions ; the one connected with kid gloves, bon-bon mottoes, and 
 quadrilles the other with " division of the records of the mind." 
 All the world over, the former phase offers the same temporary 
 interest pipes and coffee, fans and eye-glasses, japonicas and 
 veils being but varying external symbols of an identical cere 
 mony. In one sense these necessary arrangements whereby 
 human beings come together, may be called social, although 
 the mechanism usually overlays the soul of promiscuous inter 
 course. It is, however, the more important definition of social 
 life, that which enlists our minds and feelings, and modifies our 
 very natures, that we now propose to discuss. 
 
 It is remarkable that while, in art and literature, gifted minds 
 continually propose and emulate high and peculiar standards, 
 so few apply a like principle to social life. Political economists 
 and moral reformers have, indeed, advocated certain organiza 
 tions which they believe will equalize property and diminish 
 vice ; but such aims are comparatively material and philanthro- 
 
120 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 
 
 pic. Individual genius seldom carries a sense of beauty and a 
 reverence for truth into its personal relations. Yet, if furniture 
 or costume give adequate hints of character, how much more 
 significant is social life ! 
 
 The almost exclusive sense of refined enjoyment which Dr. 
 Johnson derived from social life, was manifested by the revulsion 
 of his morbid temperament from the serene pleasures of nature, 
 and his keen relish of tea-parties, or an agreeably freighted post- 
 chaise. He seems to have had an almost sublime consciousness 
 of the vast social resources of London ; such as drew tears from 
 a more delicate observer in the motley Strand, as b mused on 
 "its fulness of life;" and with truly characteristic emphasis, 
 when Bos well in reply to his query at Greenwich " Is not this 
 very fine ?" said " not equal to Fleet Street" came forth his 
 oracular, " Sir, you are right." 
 
 There is, indeed, such a world of beauty and moral interest 
 in social life, when we consider its infinite possibilities, that one 
 endowed with the requisite qualifications, would be justified in 
 making it the primary object of existence. The establishment 
 of monastic institutions seems a negative proof of the vast im 
 portance it assumes in the view of those most keenly alive to its 
 influence. The fact proves that there is a class of beings whose 
 earthly happiness is involved in its relations, whose social 
 instincts must be met, or the world abandoned. We find that 
 the most gifted beings enthusiastically seek and cherish, an ideal 
 in this regard. The very idiosyncrasies of our nature yield us 
 profit only as they are recognised. Our choicest abilities are as 
 nothing uutil they find scope among our kind. We value our 
 selves chiefly for the good we effect ; and misanthropy itself is a 
 tribute to our race. Autobiographies, memoirs, and even history 
 display no more striking fact than this that the epochs of indi- 
 
SOCIAL LIFE. 121 
 
 vidual life are the periods when truth is made personal by the 
 advent of some character. Bell, in his Philosophy of Expression, 
 asserts that there is no such thing as enjoyment of abstract 
 nature, but that we people every scene from the imagination or 
 the heart ; and that this is the secret of their enchantment. 
 Every city and hamlet is a testimony to the prevalence and the 
 reality of these sympathies. There is no such thing as self- 
 subsistence as regards human beings. Pride, asceticism, isola 
 tion, only confirm our theory. They are the reaction which 
 evidence the necessity the extreme which demonstrates an 
 antagonism. The motives of action which have their birth in 
 our relations with others, are the most potent and lasting to 
 which we are subject. Public opinion is the greatest engine in 
 the machinery of our age, how to control it, the science of 
 modern diplomacy ; personal influence, the spell which ambition 
 seeks ; and sympathy, the boon for which the civilized malcon 
 tent for ever sighs. 
 
 A great writer of the present age, confessed to a friend, 
 towards the end of his career, that he sometimes doubted 
 whether he had not sacrificed his legitimate mission by neglect 
 ing social for professional activity. He deemed the influence of 
 the press too vague for entirely satisfactory results, and perceived 
 that men of inferior powers, but quicker and wider sympathies, 
 effected more in direct intercourse as regards individuals, than 
 either authorship or oratory. This is a striking evidence of the 
 value of personal associations. Ideas, it would seem, do not 
 readily assimilate with character unless they are magnetically 
 conveyed. We quote an author with deference, perhaps, but a 
 friend s maxims have a sweet impressiveness. The voice, the 
 eye, the manner, recollections of long-continued kindness, and 
 the sanction of natural affinity, make opinions thus derived, more 
 
 6 
 
122 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 vital and interesting. The Greek system of oral instruction 
 those philosophic walks beneath the temple porch, the Oriental 
 custom of story-telling in the open air; and even the holy 
 records of the Christian faith suggest how appealing to human 
 sympathies is the colloquial method of imparting truth, and how 
 naturally the social instinct lends itself to offices of faith and 
 wisdom. 
 
 Courtesy is one thing and society quite another. We in 
 stinctively regard those who abound in the former quality as 
 possessing no rare capability for the latter. In fact, the courtier 
 is not extinct, notwithstanding the march of democracy. He 
 forms a species by itself, and may be discovered in all societies ; 
 perhaps he is a necessary part of their machinery, like a lion or 
 an usher. Phrenologically speaking, he is an incarnation of 
 approbativeness, " a martyr to respect of persons ;" and if life 
 offered no higher scene than a ball-room, or owned no deeper 
 want than a compliment, might prove an adequate representa 
 tive of the social principle. 
 
 " Again and again," says Eothen, " you meet turbans and 
 faces of men, but they have nothing for you no welcome, no 
 wonder, no wrath, no scorn ; they look upon you as upon a 
 December s fall of snow as an unaccountable, uncomfortable 
 work of God, that may have been sent for some good purpose, 
 to be revealed hereafter." There is a certain sincerity in this 
 objective view of our fellow-creatures, which is more respectable 
 than the hypocritical intercourse of what is called society. It 
 argues, at all events, a delightful absence of vanity of that 
 restless craving for notice and mean ambition to impress every 
 one, which is so incompatible with integrity of feeling. 
 
 For it is derogatory to the subject to limit its ends to agreea- 
 bility. Wit has been rightly defined as the eloquence of indif- 
 
SOCIAL LIFE. 123 
 
 ference. " When was a god," asks Carlyle, " found agreeable to 
 everybody ?" Those who are conscious of no higher abilities, or 
 more real wants, are, of course, justified in devoting themselves 
 to superficial generalities, and certainly their vocation is quite 
 laudable in its way. We only contend that the obligation is 
 not universal ; that in society, as in active life, there is allotted to 
 each a special office ; and the social adventurers, when thrown 
 back on their consciousness, after recklessly diffusing themselves, 
 usually learn, with cordial Jean Paul, to exclaim sadly, " Ah ! 
 what seeds for a paradise I bore in my heart, of which birds of 
 prey have robbed me !" 
 
 It is related of Gainsborough that he used to buy the violin, 
 hautboy, or flute of great performers, under the idea that the 
 spell which had entranced him, lay in the instrument ; and he 
 did not conceal the bitterness of his disappointment at the 
 discovery that it was in the man. Few symbols more perfectly 
 illustrate the mutual action and re-action of human beings than 
 music ; and it is a capital error to suppose that the deepest 
 notes of any mind, or the secret melody of any heart, can be 
 indiscriminately elicited. Like the credulous artist, we are apt 
 to imagine that the graces of individual character may be drawn 
 forth at random, and perversely shut our eyes to the great fact 
 that insight and sympathy are essential on the one part, as well 
 as fine endowments on the other. 
 
 As perception matures, and feeling grows clear and profound, 
 we begin to regard society on a broad scale, as " a gallery of 
 pictures ;" which sated curiosity would not prompt us to inspect, 
 were there not some private motive or vague hope to rouse its 
 slumber. Of the mass whom- we encounter at assemblies, how 
 few stand forth with any relief to the mind s eye, yield a thought 
 or stir an emotion which memory can treasure ! They are like 
 
124 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 the passionless mediocrities, whom Virgil s stern guide refused 
 to discuss : 
 
 " Non ragionam di lor, ma guarda e passa" 
 
 Thus social life gradually becomes a formula, until thirsting 
 for reality, we leave its ostentatious manifestations, and indi 
 vidualize our intercourse. 
 
 It has been said that self-respect is the gate of heaven, and the 
 most cursory observation shows that a degree of reserve adds 
 vastly to the latent force of character. The facility with which 
 persons of easy disposition enter into intimacies, is significant of 
 narrow resources and limited feeling. Pride when justly 
 regulated is a real virtue, and absolutely necessary in a world so 
 exposed to brazen intrusiveness and thoughtless curiosity. 
 Sidney and Raleigh were the most accessible of men, and at the 
 same time benign to their inferiors ; yet a dignity, felt rather 
 than seen, inspired towards them a wholesome reverence. We 
 cannot but love aspiration as an element of social feeling not 
 the petty ambition that aims only at rank, but the enthusiasm 
 which ardently craves fellowship with the aristocracy of nature. 
 Life oilers no richer boon or more desirable discipline. " We 
 encourage one another in mediocrity," wisely objected a quaint 
 writer to a particular association ; and it is a spurious philanthropy 
 that induces many kindly people to give their time to inferior 
 companions, between whom and themselves there is no genuine 
 assimilation, and to reach whose level they must laboriously 
 decline from their own range. The duties of benevolence are 
 sacred, and gross inhumanity alone will scorn the humblest 
 offices of charity ; but social ministries, when not prescribed by 
 actual duty, should be exercised with some discrimination. 
 Gossip is a cheap entertainment which any tongue can furnish ; 
 
SOCIAL LIFE. 125 
 
 and where this alone is required, Ipt it not be doled out by those 
 gifted to exercise a more noble almony. To cheer, or solace, or 
 quicken another spirit, hath in it a sacred meaning, and worthily 
 to realize this, demands a concentration of purpose, and 
 freshness of sentiment, which it is as inexcusable to waste on a 
 profitless object, as to pour the water for which flowers and 
 herbs are thirsting, upon the barren sand. Not from mere 
 fastidiousness of taste, intent upon its own gratification nor 
 from the fear of compromising position, do we advocate 
 discrimination in social life, but on the broad ground of truth and 
 utility ; and that, in the retrospect, we may be conscious of more 
 definite and satisfactory memories than poor Shallow boasted, 
 when he exclaimed, " O the mad days that I have spent ! and 
 to see how many of my old acquaintances are dead !" 
 
 Half the evils attendant on social life arise from moral v - 
 cowardice. To be sincere requires heroism, and few are 
 courageous enough to act out a change of sentiment or practically 
 assert their independence. It may be but an evidence of human 
 frailty, and yet it is true that there is such a thing as out 
 growing social relations. Circumstances, the immediate stage 
 of thought or feeling at which we have arrived, nay, a 
 momentary humor, may be the only actual bond of companion 
 ship. How absurd, when such is the case, perversely to foster 
 what by its own law should expire ! 
 
 " As there are some flowers," says Landor, " which you should 
 smell but slightly to extract all that is pleasant in them, and 
 which if you do otherwise, emit what is unpleasant or noxious, 
 so there are some men with whom a slight acquaintance is quite 
 sufficient to draw out all that is agreeable ; a more intimate one 
 would be unsatisfactory and unsafe," 
 
 Yet a multiplicity of such hortus siccus relations are passively 
 
126 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 dawdled over, by thousands, from an ignoble fear of appearing 
 inconsistent, or an inability to bear the accusation of caprice. It 
 is very common to attach this latter reproach to every instance 
 of change of associates ; but the motive and reason of the 
 process should first be ascertained. Not unfrequently, the noble 
 answer, in one of the old dramas, may be justly given : 
 
 -My mind s the same 
 
 It ever was to you. Where I find worth 
 I love the keeper till he let it go, 
 And then I follow it." 
 
 Whatever is genuine in social relations, endures despite of 
 time, error, absence, and destiny; and that which has no 
 inherent vitality had better die at once. A great poet has truly 
 declared that constancy is no virtue, but a fact. The idea of 
 sustaining the ties of social life by an effort of the will is 
 perfectly irrational. They may be cherished, protected, and held 
 sacred, but being essentially spontaneous, it is quite impossible 
 to enforce their continuance. Are there no enduring principles, 
 then, it may be asked, in social life ? Is it quite impossible 
 herein to "make assurance doubly sure, and take a bond of 
 fate ?" 
 
 We believe in the existence of fixed laws regulating human 
 relations laws as immutable as those of natural science. As 
 the planets have orbits, we are bound to each other by 
 indestructible affinities ; and to recognise and obey these, is the 
 only true philosophy of social life. They are interfered with by 
 arbitrary conventionalities, by interest, by ambition, habit, and 
 countless other distracting influences, which mankind are too 
 weak to resist ; and hence the beauty of social life is revealed 
 but in glimpses, and its far-reaching agency seldom comes home 
 
SOCIAL LIFE. 127 
 
 to the imagination of the heart. Having found the genial, it 
 remains to satisfy ourselves that it is allied to reliable qualities. 
 
 " Those have most power to hurt us that we love ; 
 We lay our sleeping lives within their arms." 
 
 A comparatively brief experience brings the conviction, that 
 the most precious trait in social life, is that which inspires faith. 
 There is nothing more wearisome than a vigilant intercourse 
 a constant wariness and distrust either of the honor or discretion 
 of a companion. It checks and turns away the natural current 
 of feeling, creates hesitancy in the utterance of opinion, and never 
 permits us to lose ourselves in candid expression. A decided 
 vein of individuality, something which implies character, alone 
 induces respect, without which, according to the old proverb, 
 familiarity necessarily breeds contempt. " I love," says 
 Montaigne, " a friendship that flatters itself in the sharpness and 
 vigor of its communications." Mutual confidence is the seal of 
 all desirable communion; and if to sympathetic are added 
 intelligent characteristics, in the breadth and quickness of which, 
 the most liberal thought and the most spontaneous humor find 
 instant recognition, there is combined the essentials of satisfactory 
 intercourse, if based on the native affinities which are the living 
 principle of our social existence. 
 
128 
 
 COSTUME. 
 
 " The apparel oft denotes the man." 
 
 HAMLET. 
 
 IT is to be regretted we are so limited in costume. No word 
 is more prevalent than becoming, and no idea more commonly 
 violated. As regards the dress of our own sex, I do not 
 remember to have met a single exception to the feeling of its 
 almost entire deficiency, both in elegance and adaptation. The 
 vest, cloak, and robe de chambre, are the only articles of male 
 toilet that have any pretension to grace. It would be curious 
 to ascertain the original idea and psychological history of the 
 hat. There never was an item of dress invented so significant 
 of utilitarianism. Its formal and inflexible shape, dark hue and 
 hopeless individuality, convey the notion of selfishness and 
 citizenship. A hat is essentially anti-chivalric. It is useful to 
 wave and hurrah with, and to collect votes and money, and 
 abridge the play of hearts of courtesy for a touch upon its rim 
 is deemed abundant salutation by the English and Americans. 
 There is something very indicative of character in a hat and the 
 manner in which it is worn. A demurely-shaped crown and 
 flat brim give an air of respectability to many a "landless 
 resolute," while a slight lateral inclination imparts a look of 
 dare-devilism even to a clerical physiognomy. Broad brims 
 seem to chasten the temper, or, at least, its expression as in 
 the Quakers ; and very narrow, curling ones, denote pertness. 
 Hatters should have a peculiarly nice sense of the appropriate. 
 
COSTUME. 129 
 
 Non-conformity may, with singular justice, be indulged in rela 
 tion to this particular of costume. It is quite absurd to wear 
 hats of one model, unless the dissimilarities of faces and heads 
 can be abolished. 
 
 I remember two anecdotes of hats, which, each in its way, 
 may serve to redeem the article in the imagination of its 
 enemies. Some years ago, a famous duellist lived at the prin 
 cipal hotel of Hamburg. He was for ever seeking quarrels, and 
 always shot his man. One successful method of giving offence 
 was to come in late to dinner, and abuse some unlucky stranger, 
 who had inadvertently appropriated his chair. A gentleman 
 newly-arrived was warned of this as he was about to seat him 
 self in the bully s place. He calmly heard his feats of blood 
 described, and glancing at the chair, inquired " Is this his hat, 
 too ?" On being answered affirmatively, he deliberately threw 
 it in the fire, and appropriating the seat, went coolly on with 
 his dinner. When the hero arrived and listened to the facts, 
 he quietly withdrew, thinking such an adversary must have 
 skill equal to his daring. The other incident refers to an old 
 man remarkable for his integrity, who wore the same hat so 
 long that it became a proverb with his neighbors. At last 
 he was seen, one Saturday afternoon, going home with a new 
 hat on. The next morning all the fences in the vicinity bore 
 the inscription " John Green has got a new hat !" A com 
 passionate friend went to the old man and informed him of this 
 ridicule, offering to have the inscriptions erased ere he made his 
 appearance again in the streets. " No," said the honest econo 
 mist ; " go and add And it is paid for / " 
 
 Byron s friend, Matthews, used to pay a shilling at an eating- 
 house in London, for the privilege of dining with his hat on 
 a mania none but an Englishman could have experienced. 
 
 9* 
 
130 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 The discomforts which hats occasion tall people are neither 
 few nor small. Such as are obliged to frequent omnibuses and 
 cabins, have especial need of a serene temper. There are so 
 many fabrics of which caps may be made, and such a scope for 
 taste in their design, that I marvel that good sense, to say 
 nothing of a love of beauty, has not long ago introduced them 
 to general use. Ophelia s minute description of Hamlet s wild 
 bearing reaches its climax thus " his doublet all unbraced, his 
 hat upon his head ;" but the sentiment attached to hats is inci 
 dental, not intrinsic. They serve as effective back-grounds for 
 symbolizing liberty in the form of a cockade ; and poor Bene 
 dick s smooth beaver evinced that his sturdy affections were 
 conquered at last. " If he be not in love with some woman," 
 says Claudio, " there is no believing in old signs : he brushes 
 his hat tfmormngsr 
 
 The flowing drawers of the Turks are eminently worthy of 
 imitation by civilized society ; and why should we not substitute 
 the blouse for the frock-coat ? Grace, comfort, and economy, 
 would all be promoted by the change ; and the same garment 
 of finer texture or richer hue to say nothing of a little tasteful 
 embroidery by fair hands might become an excellent costume 
 for special and festive occasions. Worldly-wise Polonius says, 
 " the apparel oft denotes the man." Alas, since the frank 
 days of Queen Bess, how has the tyranny of public opinion 
 tended to make this maxim obsolete ! Costume, I suppose, will 
 only be reformed, like diet and the Indians, by association. 
 Phalanxes of innovators will turn out in new garments and keep 
 up each other s moral courage in wearing a moustache or ruffles, 
 by example. Independence in this regard is always deemed 
 coxcombical, especially in this republic. Beggars, chimney 
 sweepers, and now and then, an oriental figure in our sea-ports, 
 
C OSTUME . 131 
 
 alone give any vivacious coloring to the streets. A fine winter 
 American day, however, exhibits a Dahlia-variety of hues when 
 ladies are at their noon promenade. Abroad, it would seem as 
 if ingenious people sought indemnity for political restrictions by 
 dressing to please themselves. Art continually reproaches us 
 on this subject. Why are Vandyke s unknown portraits so 
 attractive ? Simply because they are picturesque. The most 
 expressive face loses much of its essential meaning when trans 
 ferred to canvas, on account of the stock and dress-coat on 
 which it is mounted. The limited privileges of mankind on 
 the score of raiment, are but typical of the monotony which 
 society, in this age, seems to have entailed on life. It is in good 
 taste that black is the accredited color, for doubtless it is the 
 best fitted to subdue all inequalities of form, and is associated 
 with the idea of simplicity and dignity qualities most appro 
 priate to manhood. It is rather in the style than the hue of 
 our garments that we require change ; and this not to minister 
 to courtly fopperies, but for the sake of making dress, like man 
 ner, an expression of the mind, and the machinery, like the 
 mysteries of life, poetical. 
 
 It is pleasant to recognise the comparative freedom of the 
 gentler sex in relation to costume. The anomalies to which 
 they are liable spring, not as with us, from restriction, but 
 license. There are considerations touching dress in women that 
 go deeper than taste. This is, no doubt, a grand requisite for 
 the lady a sense of the appropriate one of the rarest and 
 most indefinable instincts ; a recognition in apparel of what 
 society demands in one of her position ; harmony of colors ; 
 adaptation to form, complexion, circumstances, and even cha 
 racter. These various elements, constituting both taste and 
 
132 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 tact, appear in the attire as well as the behavior of what we 
 call a perfect lady. But in addition to these ideas, and far 
 above and beneath them, there is the sentiment of dress, the 
 associations connecting it not with society, which is the proper 
 arena of the lady, but with the friend and the lover, the intrinsic 
 sphere of the woman. A first-rate modiste can explain and 
 apply the philosophy of dress, regarded as a conventional aid to 
 success in life ; but it requires deeper affinities to feel the many 
 delicate and beautiful relations of this subject, which enter the 
 heart through the imagination. The most obvious and striking 
 fact in this view, is that simplicity triumphs over magnificence ; 
 nature, as usual, where the terms are even, takes the palm from 
 art. To a man who has a genuine appreciation of the sex, a 
 mind to perceive every latent grace, and a heart to cherish and 
 forbear, as only nobleness and devotion can, all the tricks and 
 detailed splendor of costume are a positive annoyance. The 
 reason clearly is, that they are so many barriers and ceremo 
 nious obstacles between him and the mind and heart with which 
 he would commune. They painfully remind him that the 
 being who has awakened his interest, it matters not whether as 
 a genius, a beauty, or simply as a woman, is the creature, more 
 or less, of society, and that she is in some degree moulded by 
 conventional influences. The idea is thus suggested that her 
 true nature is somewhat perverted ; she has adapted herself 
 habitually, perhaps, to the world. Now, as the goal of all real 
 feeling is truth and sympathy, urging the mind to track its 
 fellow, the soul to claim its kindred elaborate dress, being a 
 thing of artifice and ostentation, seems to put off confidence and 
 intimacy, to postpone true communion, and keep the external 
 condition of society constantly in memory. " Women," says a 
 
C O S T U ME, 1 33 
 
 late writer, " only dress to gratify men of gallantry ; for the 
 
 lover is always best pleased with the simple garb." Hence it 
 
 is that the most common and available personal ornaments are 
 
 the most endearing. They have associations distinct from 
 
 fashion. Thus, a veil suggests innumerable ideas, especially the 
 
 sanctity of preference, the reserve which keeps the soul s temple 
 
 closed but to one presence. The mezzano, as worn by every 
 
 class of Genoese women, affects the stranger like a romance of 
 
 youth. Yet it is but a simple embroidered handkerchief of 
 
 white muslin, worn loosely upon the head. The most elegant 
 
 bonnet never can equal the graceful simplicity of this head-dress 
 
 for a brunette. To figures of a certain mould the boddice is 
 
 remarkably adapted, yet it is essentially the dress of a southern 
 
 peasant. The truth is, that female costume, regarded as a 
 
 matter of feeling, resolves itself chiefly into the arraying of the 
 
 head and neck. It is comparatively unimportant of what fabric 
 
 a robe is composed, so that it fits the shape. I have seen many 
 
 women who appear better in calico than silk. It is to the little 
 
 inexpensive details that fancy clings. Collars are infinitely 
 
 more winsome than a priceless necklace ; and a plain cap of 
 
 lace, or hair simply arranged, hath a sweet meaning never 
 
 radiated from diamond coronets. Jean Paul says " Nothing 
 
 can embellish a beautiful face more than a narrow band that 
 
 indicates a small wound drawn crosswise over the brow." 
 
 Now, Eichter was a man beloved of women as few men are, 
 
 because he was a man of passion, intellect, and feeling combined. 
 
 He was attracted through love, not vanity. He did not alone 
 
 blindly idolize, but gave the objects of his regard the full 
 
 advantage of his wisdom and the sincere overflowings of his 
 
 tenderness. I have no doubt that his notion of a " narrow band 
 
134 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 drawn crosswise over the brow," is the result of association. It 
 certainly would not prove universally becoming. No ; good 
 Jean loved some woman with a small wound on her fore 
 head, and thenceforth the head-band was charming to his 
 eye. 
 
135 
 
 WALKING. 
 
 Methinks to wander and to muse at will, 
 Redeemeth life fromlmore than half its ill. 
 
 i OLD PLAY. 
 
 A WALK is the most available of recreations. " Twill do me 
 good to walk," says Othello, when first visited by the pangs of 
 jealousy ; and one of the old dramatists makes his hero, when 
 baffled, very naturally suggest to a companion, 
 
 " the fresh air and discourse 
 Will give us new inventions." 
 
 Pedestrianism is said to be a constitutional tendency. The 
 English ladies are peculiar for habitually taking long excursions 
 on foot ; and whoever has travelled in Switzerland, must have 
 been struck with the diversity of endurance with which the 
 mountain paths are there explored by different individuals. 
 Phrenologists declare that they can easily detect those who are 
 natural pedestrians by their cerebral and physiological traits. 
 The art of walking is at once suggestive of the dignity of man. 
 Progressive motion alone implies power, but in almost eveiy 
 other instance, it seems a power gained at the expense of self- 
 possession. Nothing can be more graceful than the flight of 
 certain birds, but we associate the movement with the idea of 
 its being the concentrated ability the entire development of 
 innate force. The action is all, the winged creature nothing ; 
 whereas, as we look upon a human form approaching us in a 
 solitary place, it is with the consciousness that the mind s 
 workings are uninterrupted by the locomotion the process of 
 
136 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 thought undiverted ; it moves onward instinctively, retaining 
 that ease, freedom, and upright attitude which distinguish a 
 being endowed with reason. A ship under full sail before the 
 wind, is a sublime object, but it is as a trophy of art, a product 
 of invention, that it awakens our sympathies. We can but 
 momentarily forget that its beautiful motion is unconscious, 
 impelled, and involuntary. There is, on the contrary, scarcely 
 an act of man that so instantly bespeaks will, as walking. It 
 conveys the impression of a self-directing power. There is more 
 or less of the creeping posture in the onward movement of 
 animals ; and the union of an erect attitude with locomotion, is 
 one of the most striking and noble distinctions of humanity. On 
 the stage, and in military or civic processions, we sometimes 
 realize this quite vividly. 
 
 An appropriate pedestal is essential to the harmonious 
 expression of every figure ; and it has been truly said by an 
 able physiologist, that the feet admirably confirm the idea. 
 They realize the two conditions of firmness and adaptation, and 
 wonderfully carry out the graceful plan of the human form, 
 while its strength and flexibility are at the same time enhanced. 
 The gradual increase of size which reaches its acme in the body, 
 and is terminated, like the capital of a majestic pillar, by the 
 head, does not interfere with the action of the numerous muscles 
 and nerves which secure the varied necessary and elegant 
 movements of the lower limbs, from the most refined evolutions 
 of the dance to the simple walk. As an instance of mechanical 
 contrivance merely, the arrangement is a study ; while viewed 
 in reference to the laws of beauty, we have but to recall the 
 effective attitude of the Apollo, the courteous step of the 
 gentleman, or the stately march of the hero, to perceive by what 
 natural expedients utility and impressiveness may be combined. 
 
WALKING. 137 
 
 The heel is more shielded with tendons, that the weight of the 
 body may not press too severely upon the adjacent vessels ; and 
 the arch of the sole, by dispersing it, still further equalizes the 
 pressure. It has been conjectured that the intricate web of 
 nerves that lines the under part of the foot, has a magnetic 
 office drawing from the earth or carrying from the system, 
 nervous stimulus. It is certain that a degree of sensitiveness is 
 awarded this portion of the frame, the relation of which to 
 vitality and locomotion has not been fully explained. 
 
 In walking, one foot sustains the body, while the other is 
 thrust forward ; its weight is then thrown upon the advanced 
 foot, and so on alternately. The muscles act in unison, and yet 
 how complicated their action, and unconscious and exact the 
 process ! It is on this account that we read character so easily 
 by the walk regular in the formal, quick in the ardent, bold in 
 the resolute, hesitating in the timid, buoyant in the gay. It may 
 be considered a distinct accomplishment to excel as a companion 
 in walking, especially for women. The gait, manner, and 
 by-way converse of those of the sex who have a Di Yernon dash 
 in their natures, often exceed their fireside or ball-room aptitudes. 
 
 The gait affords much that is characteristic in natural 
 language. Its degree of rapidity is indicative of temperament 
 a quick movement being attendant upon the sanguine and 
 nervous, and a grave one upon the lymphatic or bilious. But 
 there is also a moral significance in the gait. Duplicity is often 
 betrayed by a cat-like, gliding step, and there is something 
 frank in the very sound of an honest man s tread. We 
 recognise the variety and meaning of the gait by many ordinary 
 terms that of affectation by mincing, of awkwardness by 
 stalking, and of a loitering step by stroll. The gait, too, is 
 professional. Sailors walk with a rolling movement, as if 
 
138 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 balancing themselves at sea ; soldiers march ; tradesmen hurry, 
 grisettes trip, coxcombs strut, poets saunter and ghosts, says 
 that of the noble Dane, are 
 
 " Doomed, for a certain time, to walk the night." 
 
 The relation of walking to thought is remarkable. More than 
 one distinguished writer, of whose habits literary biography has 
 informed us, found the influx of ideas or the flow of expression 
 more ready and salient when under the influence of this move 
 ment. It undoubtedly relieves nervous excitability. I knew an 
 eminent divine whose choicest productions were penned by means 
 of an ink-horn attached to his button-hole and scraps of paper 
 held upon a book, as he paced his study floor ; and we are told 
 that the most prolific novelist of the age dictates his manuscript 
 to an amanuensis while he is engaged in an absorbing 
 promenade. 
 
 It is natural to close a vague reverie, when something definite 
 is attained, by rising and walking to and fro, although the 
 reverse sometimes takes place, and we pause after restlessness 
 of mind, and seek an attitude of repose, to luxuriate in a decisive 
 feeling. A celebrated English actor was accustomed to remain 
 seated while uttering the famous soliloquy in Hamlet, until he 
 came to the line, " it is a consummation devoutly to be wished," 
 when, with a self-assured mien, which struck the auditor as 
 very true to nature, he commenced pacing the stage with a 
 thoughtful air. 
 
 Doubtless the majority of thinkers can sympathize with 
 Montaigne, who says " Every place of retirement requires a 
 walk. My thoughts sleep if I sit still ; my fancy does not go 
 by itself as when my legs move it, and all those who study 
 without a book are in the same condition." The Grecian 
 
WALKING. 139 
 
 philosophers walked beneath the porticos of the temples or in 
 academic groves, with their pupils, as they unfolded the stores 
 of their wisdom or argued the comparative truth of their several 
 theories; and many of the impassioned preachers of the 
 Catholic church, hasten backward and forward, in the narrow 
 pulpit, appealing to the crowd below. 
 
 For a fit of irritability, there is no sedative like a walk. Hear 
 wise old Prospero 
 
 " Sir, I am vexed ; 
 
 Bear with my weakness ; my old brain is troubled. 
 
 Be not disturbed with my infirmity ; 
 
 If you be pleased, retire into my cell, 
 
 And there repose : a, turn or two I ll walk, 
 
 To still my beating mind." 
 
 There are seasons when a footfall has a solemn echo. The 
 regular tread of a sentinel at midnight, the paces which measure 
 a duelling-ground, or the tramp of an army, on the eve of 
 battle, stir the imagination; while the peculiar gait of the 
 beloved is endearing. Of Laura, her lover said 
 
 " Andar sua non era cosa mortale." 
 
 Baptista knows Francis is not a Paduan by his manner of 
 walking the city, which he thought was " like a stranger ;" and 
 it is quite characteristic of Falstaff that he hated to " walk by 
 the Counter-gate." 
 
 The bards derive many affecting similes from walking. Thus, 
 Shakspeare says that 
 
 " Poverty walks, like contempt, alone." 
 And Tennyson describes 
 
 " Beauty and anguish walking, hand in hand, 
 The downward slope to death." 
 
140 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 Hunt, who has a vein of natural epicurism in his tastes, wisely 
 advocates a country residence within walking distance of town 
 
 " But then I would have the most rural of nooks 
 Just near enough town to make use of its books, 
 And to walk there whenever I chose to make calls, 
 To look at the ladies and lounge at the stalls." 
 
 Wilson, in his striking poem on the Plague in London, speaks 
 of faith which 
 
 " Walks unquaking through the shades of death." 
 
 It is a touching image, of fidelity adduced by Orlando of old 
 
 Adam 
 
 " Who after me hath many a weary step 
 
 Limped in pure love." 
 
 And Pierre s sense of the bitterness of local prejudice is signifi 
 cantly indicated in " Venice Preserved," thus 
 
 " Confess 1 Record myself 
 A villain for the privilege to breathe, 
 And carry up and down this cursed city 
 A discontented and repining spirit ?" 
 
 A very religious feeling prompted the line in Lycidas 
 " Through the dear might of him that walked the waves." 
 
 Thompson declares, in the spirit of true poetical superiority to 
 fortune, and with the genuine zest of a dreaming pedestrian 
 
 " You cannot bar my constant feet to trace 
 The woods or lawn, by living stream, at eve !" 
 
 Carlyle moralizes ably of human frivolity when he exclaims 
 " Light mortals, how ye walk your life-minuet over bottomless 
 abysses, divided from you by a film !" And Wordsworth nobly 
 
W ALKIN G . 141 
 
 conveys the idea of a gifted peasant s self-subsistence in his ode 
 to Chatterton 
 
 " who walked in glory and in joy, 
 
 Following his plough along the mountain side." 
 
 Wolsey s pathetic retrospect of weary ambition begins by 
 asserting that he had " trod the ways of glory ;" and what a 
 lovely metaphor is that of Barry Cornwall s, when he suggests 
 the idea of a restrained footstep ! 
 
 " Tread softly, softly, like the foot 
 
 Of Winter shod with fleecy snow, 
 Who cometh white and cold and mute, 
 Lest he should wake the spring below." 
 
 A little world was opened to the fancy of Eli a by the Jews, 
 beggars, chimney-sweeps, old benchers and actors he encountered 
 in his walks through the metropolis of England. I have seldom 
 realized more perfectly the shades of deep meaning that may 
 be hinted by the manner and air exhibited in walking, than was 
 portrayed in the sketch of a native painter, representing the 
 Saviour and two disciples in their walk to Emmaus, after the 
 resurrection. The severe abstraction in the movement of the 
 one, and the eager curiosity in that of his companions, shadowed 
 forth most distinctly the language of the spiritual and the human. 
 Dante s great poem, as regards its external design, may be de 
 scribed concisely as a walk through the realms of hell, purgatory, 
 and paradise. 
 
 The promenades of some European cities are singularly in 
 citing to cheerfulness. Their sites are often admirably chosen, 
 without the dense ranges of buildings and near the sea the 
 mountains, a river, or a grove. On a winter noon or spring 
 evening, the change from an apartment overlooking noisy 
 
142 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 thoroughfares, or from a crowded street to the free air and 
 grateful prospects of these resorts, instantly yields refreshment. 
 The charm, too, is frequently enhanced by the variety of cos 
 tume and life-enjoying aspect of the scene. Here an old abbe 
 or college-professor moves slowly on, in his dark robes, like the 
 patriarch come forth to muse at eventide ; on a bench sits a 
 military character, with his heavy cap beside him; a flaxen- 
 haired English child gambols around its complacent nurse ; and 
 a swarthy peasant-girl respectfully watches the group of ladies 
 who talk gaily to their cavaliers on horseback, who surround the 
 open carriage drawn up by the green pathway. Now and then 
 from a band of music are heard the favorite airs of the season ; 
 and when they cease, a gust of wind among the pines, the 
 plash of fountains, the murmur of a beach, a gay laugh or 
 friendly cheer, falls pleasantly on the ear. The passing saluta 
 tion, the renovating breeze, glimpses of the far horizon, and the 
 mere sight of wave, sky, foliage, and human faces calm with 
 the sense of genial leisure, then yield momentary solace alike 
 to the careworn tradesman, the lonely stranger, and the sated belle. 
 Independent people are or ought to be good pedestrians. 
 Landscape painters and naturalists, a class usually distinguished 
 for their personal resources and avoidance of conventionalities, 
 are usually fond of the long and solitary walks incident to their 
 professions. They see, without envy, gay equipages dash by, 
 deeming that their occupants have inevitable care annexed to 
 their splendor : 
 
 " You may hurry away on your lonely ride, 
 
 Nor deign from the mire to save me, 
 I will paddle it stoutly by your side 
 
 With the tandem nature gave me."* 
 
 * Holmes. 
 
W ALKIN G . 143 
 
 Lonely walks are the delight of lovers. Speed gives, among 
 other reasons for thinking Valentine absorbed by the tender 
 passion, that " he walks alone ;" and one of the questions with 
 which the impatient Cleopatra assails Charmian, in regard to 
 Antony, is, " Does he walk ?" In truth, the most natural 
 resource for either escaping or giving vent to a mood, is walking. 
 What thoughts of sublimity and reminiscences of land fill 
 the voyager s breast, as he walks the lonely deck at midnight, 
 with the stars above and the waves around him ; what a 
 sense of luxury steals over the converse of kindred minds, in 
 a garden-walk, on a summer evening, and what images of hope 
 vivify the fancy of the youthful group, who walk the leafy isles 
 of an American forest radiant with autumnal dyes ! 
 
 Untimely walking evidences mental disorder. Lady Macbeth 
 walked in her sleep from the unrest created by remorse ; and 
 poor Constance says of her dead Arthur 
 
 " Grief fills the room up of my absent child, 
 Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me." 
 
 The choice of walks is a revelation of character. To observant 
 and sympathetic minds, there is no promenade so suggestive as 
 the most frequented street of a metropolis. Many a passer hints a 
 tragedy, and every group affords a glimpse of the comedy of 
 life, to say nothing of the pleasure derived from a consciousness 
 of being upon what Schiller calls the " stream of multitude." 
 
 " Let me move slowly through the street 
 
 Filled with an ever-shifting train, 
 Amid the sounds of steps that beat 
 
 The murmuring walks like autumn rain. 
 
 " How fast the flitting figures come ! 
 
 The mild, the fierce, the stony face ; 
 
144 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 Some bright with thoughtless smiles, and some 
 Where secret tears have left, their trace."* 
 
 The meditative find in woods and by the sea-shore, their best 
 inspiration; and the world is full of consecrated walks, from 
 Petrarch s favorite path at Vaucluse to the lane at Highgate, 
 where Keats and his fellow bards used to wander. 
 
 The zest of a walk is its spontaneity. One can perceive a 
 sad expression upon the faces of those formal citizens who, ex 
 actly at the same hour, daily take the same promenade, as if 
 impelled by fate. The path is so familiar as to kindle no 
 expectancy : the mind broods as if the body were stationary, 
 and the only refreshment gained is derived from the air. Quite 
 different is the effect of an aimless stroll, begun from a kind of 
 instinct, and continued half unconsciously, with pleasant objects 
 or a winsome voice to beguile the way. Routine is allied to 
 duty and labor; its absence is essential to recreation. We 
 should seek nature, like children, in so trustful and enjoying a 
 mood as to be oblivious of law, and especially of self. 
 
 Insanity is usually produced by the tyranny of one idea or 
 feeling which takes exclusive possession of consciousness ; and 
 every one capable of intense reflection or strong emotion, has 
 felt, at times, the incipient stage of this malady when con 
 demned by isolation or illness to a confined position. At such 
 a crisis, the first impulse is to walk forth not only by physical 
 activity to divert mental disquietude, but, by multiplying 
 external impressions, to break up the monotony and concentra 
 tion of thought. The motion quickens the blood ; the air 
 oxygenates it; and a languor at last steals over the frame 
 which, for the time, deadens the inward pang, and woos to the 
 
 * Bryant. 
 
WALKING. 145 
 
 pleasant land of sleep, whence we emerge refreshed and elastic. 
 But there is a more attractive phase of the subject than that 
 suggested by the economy of nature. How many of the 
 richest associations of our lives are connected with a walk ! It 
 is thus that we most readily place ourselves in relation with 
 that spirit of wisdom and beauty which pervades the universe. 
 The most reserved minds are then apt to unfold. I walked, on 
 a summer afternoon, through a wood, with a poet remarkable 
 for his graphic pictures of nature. He uttered exclamations of 
 delight when he saw the grass-blade glint in the sunshine ; not 
 a fir-cone slept amid the herbage, not a moss-clump gleamed 
 from a decayed root, not a pale wild-flower shot its slender stem 
 through the mouldering leaves, but elicited his loving comment. 
 I walked through an ancient city, by moonlight, with an artist. 
 He bade me note the lofty cornice defined in the silver light, 
 the symmetrical shadow of the tower, the impressive frown of 
 the battlement, the airy spring of the fluted pillar, the depth of 
 the crystal heavens, and the picturesque grouping of the fisher 
 men as they clustered at the pier. I walked about a populous 
 capital at mid-day with a humorist, and he excited my ceaseless 
 mirth by the comic hints which life presented to his mind, by 
 the way. Milton describes one of the joys of Eden to consist 
 in walking through a garden. Genius has blended its richest 
 annals with the scenery familiar to the walks of youth. Byron s 
 fondness for haunting the ocean breathes in almost every poem. 
 How sternly is the desolate locality where Crabbe roamed in 
 boyhood, graven into his gloomy pictures ; what a calm and 
 pure mountain air steals from the page of Wordsworth ; and 
 how do the heather and the daisy that skirt the moors of Scot 
 land, gem the effusions of Burns ! Food for observation is 
 yielded to the willing eye, by the most unattractive walk. 
 
 7 
 
146 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 Whether aloes, with dew-drops pendent from their thorny sides, 
 or fields of tufted maize that bends gracefully to the wind, or the 
 flickering shade of noble elms, the shafts of dense cypresses or 
 vast seas of prairie are around, insensibly the spirit of the 
 landscape enters the mind and tinges it with sombre or bright 
 imagery. 
 
 How many brave resolutions have been formed, how many 
 vindictive feelings renounced, how many glorious works con 
 ceived, and how many delicious sympathies indulged in a walk ! 
 With the open sky above, the cheerful fields beside, and the 
 free air around us, local annoyances and personal cares awhile 
 vanish. We feel at liberty ; nature whispers consoling thoughts ; 
 we move onward with a sense of alliance to her majestic forms 
 and gentle ministry. Experience gradually shapes itself, by 
 meditation, into a messenger of truth. Wild feeling becomes 
 tranquil, clear, and satisfactory through the analysis of reflection. 
 Departed joys are renewed in the magic glass of memory, and 
 the sealed fountains of love gush again at the call of imagina 
 tion. Released prisoners and fresh convalescents best realize 
 the privilege of a walk. From them the dulness of custom has 
 fallen; every step yields a sweet consciousness of power and 
 every breeze is a greeting. To all contemplative minds there 
 are memorable walks, enshrined by rich and genial companion 
 ship or felicity of mood, charm of locality or interesting circum 
 stances : and to such, the kind of tree and herbage, the shape 
 of hills that bounded the view, the odor of the vegetation, the 
 rustle of lizards, or the notes of birds then experienced, have a 
 perpetual charm, and their recurrence ever after 
 
 " Strikes the electric chain with which we re darkly bound." 
 
147 
 
 A CHAPTER ON HANDS 
 
 Give me your hands !" 
 
 PERICLES. 
 
 SHYLOCK had reason, while enumerating his claims to huma 
 nity, to ask, " Has not a Jew hands ?" I have just examined 
 the sculptured hand of a child modelled from life, by an artist 
 of exact eye, and whose chisel bestows a flesh-like surface upon 
 its products. The abstract beauty of the hand is better realized 
 when thus viewed ; and if we combine with this perception a 
 sense of its varied facility as a mechanical instrument, and its 
 countless offices as a means of expression, we cannot but feel 
 that it is one of the graceful mysteries which characterize human 
 beings ; and hence it is that the most pathetic line in the Cor 
 sair, occurs in the description of the dead Medora, where the 
 poet speaks of " the cold flowers her colder hand contained." 
 
 The hand, in the light of comparative anatomy, most signifi 
 cantly marks the distinction between men and brutes. Its 
 complex apparatus, and the relation between its performances 
 and the mind, are so remarkable, that familiarity alone prevents 
 their being observed with wonder. When we consider that its 
 motions depend upon no less than twenty-nine bones, their cer 
 tainty and vigor is marvellous. As an instrument, it combines, 
 to an inconceivable degree, the almost antagonistic qualities of 
 great strength and extreme delicacy, freedom of movement with 
 nicety of action, and perfect ease with thorough control. The 
 same machine whereby the athlete raises himself to the slack- 
 
148 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 rope, or the blacksmith wields a ponderous sledge, is adapted to 
 graduate the hues upon the artist s canvas, and modify sounds 
 of the most exquisite musical instruments. The fingers, whose 
 accurate sensation counts the pulsations of the invalid, when 
 folded together, become a weapon, which, deftly managed, may 
 fell a resisting Hercules ; grasping a mechanic s tool they per 
 form miracles of skill, and closed gently around the pen of 
 genius, they act as the magnetic telegraph of the soul. The 
 freedom of the hand s movements is ascribed to the collar bone, 
 which keeps the shoulders apart, and distributes muscular effort 
 to the arm ; their fineness is owing to the wrist and finger 
 bones, and the nervous tissue ; and their ease seems to grow out 
 of the union of all these. Power and flexibility are thus 
 equally attained, and the result is an instrument which, guided 
 by intelligence, is adequate to the homeliest and most exalted 
 offices, and has for its sphere the whole domain both of the use 
 ful and fine arts, enabling the savage to weave bark-thatch for 
 his log-hut, and Raphael to light up an eternal smile upon the 
 lip of maternity ; the mariner, by a regulated pressure, to guide 
 his vessel with unerring helm over the trackless waters ; and 
 the sportsman, by the lightest touch, to bring to his feet the 
 eagle that hovers in the clouds. 
 
 But, perhaps, the most extraordinary characteristic of the 
 hand is its intimate relation to the will. The infinite quickness 
 and certainty with which the former obeys the faintest intima 
 tion of the latter, is a study for the metaphysician. The hand 
 is the mind s only perfect vassal, and when, through age or ill 
 ness, the connexion between them is interrupted, there are few 
 more affecting tokens of human decay. We seldom realize the 
 nicety as well as promptitude of the hand s obedience. It is 
 but the difference imperceptible to the eye, between the pressure 
 
% A CHAPTER ON HANDS. 149 
 
 of a finger, which distinguishes a merely practised musician and 
 the great masters of the violin and piano. A more sensitive 
 nerve in the hand, communicating with a more glowing brain, is 
 the proximate cause of the vast space between mechanical imi 
 tation and artistic genius. The engravings of Morghen, the 
 busts of Powers, Gobelin tapestry, the bouquets of Genoa and 
 Florence, the mosaics of Rome, and the lawns of England 
 whatever object or product is wrought or embellished by the 
 hand, of acknowledged superiority in its kind, owes that dis 
 tinction not more to peculiar aptitude in the hand itself, than to 
 a closer alliance between it and the will, and a more keen intel 
 ligence, or a richer sympathy in the mind that prompts its 
 action. Thus the hand becomes the representative of the indi 
 vidual, not only working out his casual objects, but giving 
 embodiment to his noblest conceptions. It is this instant and 
 complete response that induced the opinion once broached, that 
 the hand was the seat of the will. 
 
 No less than fifty muscles consent to its simplest motion. 
 The different length of the fingers accommodates them to a 
 variety of grasp, as the rod which stirs the alembic must be 
 held in quite a different manner, and perform a distinct office 
 from the fishing-rod or the battle-axe. It has been truly said, 
 that a hand, with reason to use it, supplies the natural defence 
 of other animals. The muscles of the palm, which are so 
 small and ever exposed, unlike those of other parts of the body, 
 to contact and strain, are protected accordingly ; and so inti 
 mately united are the eight bones of the wrist, that they form 
 a ball which moves at the extremity of the radius. Such are 
 the minute and effective contrivances which sustain and direct 
 the wonderful mechanism of the human hand. 
 
 This apparent identity between the hand and the will, is 
 
150 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 manifested by the old proverbs, " catch time by the forelock," 
 and " a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." Indeed, 
 expressions indicative of tenacity or readiness, are drawn chiefly 
 from the movements of the hand. Thus we speak of seizing 
 occasions, and holding on to promising objects. The sailor s 
 phrase " let go," seems to give full scope to the breeze of acci 
 dent and the tide of events, while " hands off" is the most collo 
 quial of warnings to the tardy passer. The " sign manual," in 
 law and courtesy, has an unquestioned authority, and the raised 
 finger of a king challenges as much obeisance as a sanctioned 
 watchword. 
 
 The henna-stained nails of the harem are typical of oriental 
 ism ; the thrown gauntlet of the knight was a summons to the 
 combat ; and " gyves upon the wrist," in Hood s poem of Eugene 
 Aram, tell the whole story of his capture. " Except these bonds," 
 said St. Paul, lifting his manacled hands before Festus ; and 
 " may my right hand forget its cunning," was Webster s adju 
 ration, should he ever lack magnanimity. " To palm off," is 
 the Saxon for treachery; "make a hand of," the simple English 
 for intrigue ; and buono mano the Italian for a gratuity. Inten 
 tion, desire, motive all suggest themselves figuratively by 
 epithets borrowed from the natural action of the hand ; and the 
 marriage rite hath for its almost universal symbol, encircling 
 the finger with a little hoop of gold. 
 
 A vague sense of the intrinsic correspondence between the 
 hand and thought, doubtless originated the idea of palmistry, 
 and superstition hoped to discover in the varied lines of the 
 open palm an index of character and destiny. A less fallacious 
 test of the former has been recognised in the comparative heat 
 or cold of the hand, as this indicates temperament, which in 
 itself is no inadequate revelation of conduct. Thus the quick 
 
A CHAPTER ON HANDS. 151 
 
 or slow upfolding of the sensitive leaf betrays the touch of the 
 sanguine or sympathetic. " There are," says Sir Thomas Browne, 
 " certain mystical figures in our hands, which I dare not call 
 mere dashes, strokes a la volee, or at random, because delineated 
 by a pencil that never works in vain ; and hereof I take more 
 particular notice, because I carry that in mine own hand which 
 I never could read or discover in another."* 
 
 In aristocratic portraits, the shape of the hands is remarkably 
 elegant, and Byron was undoubtedly correct in regarding the 
 beauty of this feature as an indication of gentle blood. It is 
 said that long before Keats died, he was accustomed to prophesy 
 his fate by the swollen veins of his hands, which, he said, looked 
 like those of a man of fifty. There is an instinctive association 
 with personal character in the disposition of the hands. Thus, 
 the most effective likeness of Sterne represents him with the 
 forefinger on the temple, where phrenologists locate the organ 
 of wit. Napoleon, at St. Helena, is always depicted with folded 
 arms, because they indicate a passive and thoughtful state ; and 
 in one of the most appropriate designs for a statue of Wash 
 ington, the left hand rests on a sheathed sword, while the right 
 points upward. The peculiar melancholy suggested by Egyp 
 tian sepulchral monuments, as well as many of the effigies on 
 Italian tombs, arises from the utterly listless or confined position 
 of the hands. It gives the figure the aspect of helplessness ; 
 the voluntary power seems annihilated, and a feeling instantly 
 arises of a completed destiny and final sleep : 
 
 " His palms are folded on his breast ; 
 There is no other thing expressed, 
 But long disquiet merged in rest." 
 
 * Religio Medici. 
 
152 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 In the grace of elocution, the dignity of rule, and the natural 
 language of social intercourse, the hand enacts a greater part 
 than we are apt to recognise. In all those noble gestures 
 which convey moral impressions, the extended arm and open 
 palm are vastly expressive. In the cartoons of Raphael, and 
 the apostolic statues of Thorwaldsen, this is finely illustrated. 
 There is a passage in one of Southey s poems which eloquently 
 points out the significance of such gestures : 
 
 " Toward the shore he spread his arms 
 As if the expanded soul diffused itself, 
 And carried to all spirits, with the act, 
 Its affluent inspiration." 
 
 To show how justly, in art and life the action of the hand is 
 characteristic, were an endless theme. In poetry, by citing one 
 of its movements, an entire history or picture is suggested. 
 Scott, to express the warrior s unconquered heroism, tells us 
 that " with dying hand he shook the fragment of his blade ;" 
 the old masters always portrayed Cleopatra " holding the viper 
 to her snowy breast," which instantly fills the imagination with 
 the cycle of her being voluptuous beauty, imperious will, and 
 impassioned death. In the museum at Naples, there is a statue 
 of Aristides, and the manner in which his robe is gathered up 
 in his hand, gives a complete idea of the inflexible justice of his 
 nature. 
 
 One of the most common signs of want of breeding, is a sort 
 of uncomfortable consciousness of the hands, an obvious igno 
 rance of what to do with them, and a painful awkwardness in 
 their adjustment. The hands of a gentleman seem perfectly at 
 home without being occupied ; they are habituated to the 
 dolcefar niente, or if they spontaneously move, it is attractively. 
 
A CHAPTER ON HANDS. 153 
 
 Some of Queen Elizabeth s courtiers made playing with their 
 sword-hilt an accomplishment, and the most efficient weapon of 
 the Spanish coquette is her fan. Strength in the fingers is a 
 sure token of mental aptitude. When Mutius burnt his hand off 
 before the eyes of his captor, he gave the most indubitable 
 proof we can imagine of fortitude ; and it was natural that, amid 
 the ferocious bravery of feudal times, a bloody hand in the 
 centre of an escutcheon should become the badge of a baronet 
 of England. 
 
 The phenomena of touch have been less investigated than 
 those of the other senses, from which it is altogether distinct. 
 The nerves of touch are inclosed in spiral ridges of cuticle at 
 the pulpy end of the fingers, and still more shielded by the 
 nails. All familiar with the modern education of the blind, are 
 aware to what extent the sense of touch may be cultivated, so, 
 in a measure, to take the place of sight. Manipulation is almost 
 a science by itself, the nicer processes of the artisan, refined 
 modelling in clay, the minute sculpture of the lapidary, and 
 those delicate surgical operations which require the most precise 
 guidance of an instrument among nerves and arteries, seem to 
 justify the saying of Anaxagoras, that the superiority of man 
 was owing to his hand. 
 
 AVhen we consider that the nervous tissue, ramifying from 
 the brain, spreads itself intricately through the hand where 
 touch is located, there seems little romance in assenting to the 
 enthusiastic interpretation of the sounds of a violin when swayed 
 by genius, and the healing, exciting, or somniferous influence 
 ascribed to the hand of the magnetizer. In some persons the 
 sensitiveness of touch is so great, that to feel of certain fabrics, 
 or come in physical contact with ungenial individuals, produces 
 the most decided nervous revulsion. Domestic, and even wild 
 
 7* 
 
154 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 animals, are remarkably susceptible to the human touch, and 
 may be soothed, in ferocious moods, by the hand they recognise. 
 There is, indeed, an exquisite sensibility and influence residing 
 in the hand, which, in rare organizations, may be said to 
 constitute a world of sensation and efficiency, " caviare to the 
 general." 
 
 In southern countries, kissing the hand is a loyal salutation. 
 On a beautiful winter evening, I disembarked at an island in 
 the Mediterranean, in company with a lady who had been, for 
 some months, absent from her home. She stood at the head of 
 the staircase of her palazzo, and every servitor respectfully 
 imprinted a kiss upon her hand. There was in their manner 
 of so doing, a fidelity and pleasure delightful to witness. The 
 practice is recognised in several of Shakspeare s dramas. " Why, 
 this is he who kissed away his hand in courtesy." " You kiss 
 your hand," says Colin to Touchstone ; " that courtesy would 
 be unclean at court, if courtiers were shepherds they are often 
 tarred over with the surgery of our sheep. The courtier s hands 
 are perfumed with civet." 
 
 In dramatic literature, especially, we find constant figurative 
 allusion to the hand, as the symbol of both will, intelligence, 
 and character. Thus Brutus reproaches Cassius with avarice, 
 by declaring he has "an itching palm;" and the ambitious 
 Thane s sceptre is said to be wrenched " with an unlineal hand." 
 Of one it is observed, that his hand was made to handle naught 
 but gold, and of another, " to grasp a palmer s." Among the 
 undisputed traits of beauty, seems to be a white hand. " My 
 lady has a white hand," boasts Olivia s clown ; and Biron, 
 sending a missive to his love, tells the messenger 
 
 " And to her white hand, see that thou do commend 
 This sealed up counsel." 
 
A CHAPTER ON HANDS. 155 
 
 Romeo speaks of the " white wonder of dear Juliet s hand ;" 
 and this exclamation he utters as he gazes upon her from the 
 garden, an instance of Shakspeare s masterly union of the 
 picturesque and the affecting. We see a picture Juliet in the 
 balcony, precisely in the attitude natural under the circum 
 stances and, at the same time, sympathize with the impatient 
 devotion of her lover as he thus beholds her. Nothing can be 
 more appropriate than the very poetical extravagance of his 
 apostrophe : 
 
 " See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand ; 
 O that I were a glove upon that hand, 
 That I might touch that cheek !" 
 
 But, in two instances, the poet of nature has given us hints of 
 the philosophy of this subject, in so dramatic and moving a way, 
 that the scenes live in remembrance, consecrated alike by the 
 genius which makes vital, and the truth to nature that endears 
 them. In the two most earnest phases of the soul love and 
 remorse, the hands are made to illustrate their connexion with 
 the mind, and, for the moment, endowed with prophecy and 
 retribution. It is poetry, indeed, but founded in truth. When 
 that " noble and loving nature " is first put upon the rack of 
 agonized suspicion, the sight of Desdemona for an ins cant 
 disarms his fears. He exclaims : " O, hardness to dissemble !" 
 and then gazes inquiringly upon her face, wherein he had been 
 wont to read his own devoted love, beaming in reflected but 
 genuine expression, in order, if possible, to peruse the heart 
 where he had " garnered upon his hopes." The scrutiny is 
 useless. There is the same ingenuous, tender, and womanly 
 look; but the demon in his brain repeats lago s fiendish 
 insinuation, and by an impulse the most natural, he seizes her 
 
156 THE O PTI MIST. 
 
 hand that hand by which he led her to the altar, whose 
 lightest touch, heretofore, had power to thrill him with confident 
 joy ; he inspects the lines of the palm, attempts to realize afresh 
 its sensation, to test, as it were, its magnetism, and thus doing, 
 peers into her eyes with a mind aching for the truth : 
 
 Othello. How do you, Desdemona ? 
 Desdemona. Well, my good lord. 
 O. Give me your hand : this hand is moist, my lady. 
 D. It yet has felt no age, nor known no sorrow. 
 0. This argues fniitfulness and liberal heart : 
 
 Hot, hot, and moist : this hand of yours requires 
 
 A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer, 
 
 Much castigation, exercise devout ; 
 
 For here s a young and sweating devil here 
 
 That commonly rebels. Tis a good hand, 
 
 A frank one. 
 D. You may, indeed, say so : 
 
 For twas that hand that gave away my heart. 
 O. A liberal hand : the hearts of old gave hands, 
 
 But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts . r 
 
 This dialogue is a perfect indication of the two states of mind 
 unsuspecting love and perverting suspicion. The hand is 
 spontaneously recognised as an exponent both of honor and 
 love. 
 
 And what picture" of a troubled conscience has ever been 
 imagined equal to the night-walking scene in Lady Macbeth ? 
 She had been used to " lave her dainty hands " from childhood, 
 but having once stained them with human blood, it seemed to 
 her reproachful heart that the " damned spot " would never out. 
 There is something irresistibly pathetic in the moaning whisper, 
 " all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand." 
 The epithet " little " applied to her hand, brings up the idea of 
 
A CHAPTER ON HANDS. 157 
 
 the gentleness of her sex in contrast with the horror of her 
 crime, in a manner singularly accordant with dramatic truth. 
 
 Doct. What is it she does now 1 Look how she rubs her hands. 
 Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her 
 hands ; I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour. 
 Lady M. Out, damned spot ! 
 
 An election was carried in Massachusetts by adopting as a 
 rallying word the term "hard-hand," an unfortunate epithet 
 which some orator of the opposition had given to the farmers 
 and mechanics. It was immediately seized upon on the same 
 principle that Yankee Doodle was adopted as the continental 
 air, and by reminding the party of the derision of their enemies, 
 worked their most spirited resistance. It is the glorious boast 
 of the republican to cast 
 
 " With unpurchased hand, 
 The vote that shakes the turrets of the land." 
 
 In most countries, the oath is administered with the hand 
 either gravely uplifted, or laid upon a sacred relic. The 
 claqueurs of the Parisian theatres earn a livelihood by applause ; 
 and, to pass at once from such an unromantic matter-of-fact, to 
 a bit of sentimental philosophy, Dante says : 
 
 Si comprende, 
 
 Quanto in femmina, fuoco d amor dura 
 Se 1 occhio o tatto spesso nol raccende.* 
 
 The hands are, by the very instinct of humanity, raised in 
 prayer, clasped in affection, wrung in despair, pressed upon the 
 forehead when " chaos is come again," and the soul is " per 
 plexed in the extreme ;" drawn inward to invite, thrust forth 
 
 * Purgatorio. 
 
158 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 objectively to repel ; the fingers point to indicate, and are snapped 
 in disdain ; the palm is laid upon the heart in invocation or 
 subdued feeling, and on the brow of the compassionated in 
 benediction. What is consciously held in pictures or on the 
 stage, is emblematic to the most careless observer. Dido, with 
 her willow-branch, tells us she is abandoned ; Richard III., with 
 his prayer book, enacts the hypocrite ; the crook in the hand 
 reveals the shepherd, a baton the marshal, a cross the devotee, 
 a tome the scholar, a telescope the navigator, and so on through 
 the whole symbolized category of human vocations, each holds 
 fast that which is good unto him. 
 
 I was never more struck with the expressive capacity of the 
 hands, than in witnessing the orisons of the deaf and dumb. 
 Their teacher stood, with closed eyes, and addressed the Deity 
 by those signs made with the fingers which constitute a lan 
 guage for the speechless. Around him were grouped more 
 than a hundred mutes, following with reverend glances every 
 motion. It was a visible but not an audible worship. A 
 locust hummed in the branches of an adjacent elm, and the 
 summer air stirred the leaves that hung beside the open win 
 dow ; otherwise, the profound silence of a Quaker meeting 
 brooded over the assemblage. Few public acts of religious 
 devotion ever impressed me like this. The very hearts the 
 still small voice, in each bosom, seemed communing with the 
 Creator, It was a most affecting recognition of the fatherhood 
 of God. 
 
 After Hamlet s mind has been solemnized by the revelations 
 of his father s ghost, he manifests a consciousness of the new 
 and sad responsibility which has come over his life, by a signifi 
 cant shaking hands with his friends, intimating by the action, 
 with the delicate consideration of a noble soul, that he has bade 
 
A CHAPTER ON HANDS. 159 
 
 a rev/ell to ordinary sympathies, in consequence of having been 
 called into relation with the supernatural : 
 
 " Why, right, you are in the right, 
 And so, without more circumstance at all, 
 I hold it fit that we shake hands and part, 
 You as your business and desire shall point you, 
 For every man hath business and desire 
 Such as it is ; for my own part, 
 Look, I will go pray." 
 
 The mere offer of the hand is the readiest sign of voluntary- 
 courtesy or forgiveness, and its non-acceptance the most civil 
 yet meaning of repulses. 
 
 Shaking hands is a mode of greeting, the origin of which is 
 lost in obscurity. Individuals display character in their mode 
 of so doing. Who cannot feel at once the antagonism between 
 the touch of a prude and the cordial grasp of a friend ? Who 
 knows not the sailor s grip of candid heartiness from the con 
 ventional, passant " giving of hands ?" How perfectly does the 
 graduated or lingering pressure cause the mercury in love s 
 barometer to rise or fall by the scale of hope ! What sympa 
 thies and antipathies are demonstrated by the various degrees 
 of kindly, irresolute, vivacious, careless, fond, or earnest manner 
 of shaking hands ! It is this relation between temperament, 
 feeling, consideration, and the instinctive action of the hand, 
 which has given rise to those theories which profess to read the 
 predominant impulses of character in the traits of chirography. 
 
160 
 
 THE NEW YORK COLONISTS. 
 
 " And range with humble livers in content." 
 
 HKNRY vni. 
 
 THE claims of the Pilgrims have been more than vindicated. 
 The anniversary of their landing is widely celebrated. New 
 England has produced more writers than all other sections of 
 the country, and her annals have been recorded with a particu 
 larity which leaves little for the future antiquarian to discover. 
 Scarcely one of her villages but can boast its historian. The 
 Yankees are proverbially shrewd observers and industrious 
 chroniclers ; and the many beautiful tributes pronounced at 
 Plymouth, and before local societies dedicated to the memory 
 of the Puritans, seem pledges that oblivion will not soon cast 
 its relentless wave over New England s early story. It is other 
 wise with New York. Her colonial history, prior to the Revo 
 lution, is comparatively barren of events of striking moral influ 
 ence. Let not this make us unmindful of its claims. Gibbon, 
 in his " Roman Empire," in briefly passing over the reign of 
 some prince, acknowledges that the less there is for history to 
 record, the happier for mankind. The original settlers of New 
 York came not to plant creeds, but to find homes. No fierce 
 war of opinion kept society in a ferment. They professed no 
 grand moral enterprise. They were honest, but unambitious 
 men. To live unmolested, to enjoy the comforts of life in peace, 
 was all they sought. Let us not on this account condemn 
 them. Let us acknowledge the honest manliness that made 
 
THE NEW YORK COLONISTS. 161 
 
 them so prize " the glorious privilege of being independent," 
 and the bravery with which they met all the hardships of 
 uncivilized life, to leave their children free and happy firesides. 
 Although they had no poet, let us not suffer their memories to 
 die. 
 
 The few pictures of Dutch life that have come down to us, 
 are far from unattractive. Some delightful sketches, published 
 many years since in England, furnish a charming outline, which 
 imagination readily fills out, of the simple manners and native 
 integrity by which the early colonists fashioned their lives.* It 
 is remarkable, that the only popular picture of these times and 
 people should be a caricature ; nor must we be surprised that 
 " Knickerbocker s New York" should be quoted in Europe as a 
 veritable history, until some serious effort is made to redeem 
 the fame and brighten the dusty but untarnished escutcheon of 
 these honest Dutch. It is difficult to account for their com 
 parative misappreciation. We always fancy a Dutchman as a 
 corpulent, sleepy fellow, with a pipe in his mouth. Yet is there 
 not an enviable wisdom in their tranquil philosophy ? It is 
 true, that in the march of mind they were " dragged along in 
 the procession," but if rational enjoyment and a contented 
 spirit be any test of character, they may claim no inferior rank 
 among the nations. Consider their history. For more than a 
 century, learning, science, and philosophy found their sole 
 refuge in the free states of Holland. Recall the bravery with 
 which they resisted their Spanish invaders ; the enterprise that 
 so long made their ships the carriers of all Europe ; the patient 
 industry which constructed those immense dykes that render 
 Holland one of the most remarkable of countries ; the genius 
 
 * Mrs. Grant s " Memoirs of an American Lady." 
 
162 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 exhibited in their school of painting no inadequate illustration 
 of their national character which triumphs in a humble sphere, 
 and, if it create not the Madonnas of Raphael or the angels of 
 Correggio, makes the canvas glow with many a scene of homely 
 festivity, and invests the most common-place objects with a 
 picturesque charm. 
 
 There are few objects, in this country, which convey to my 
 mind so significant an idea of comfort as an old Dutch dwell 
 ing. Its ample portico alone seems an emblem of hospitality ; 
 and I cannot but sympathize with the murmurs of the few old 
 inhabitants of Rockland county, who so reluctantly yield up 
 their ancient landmarks to the devouring locomotive. The 
 hunting and trading excursions of the early colonists made 
 them as hardy in the field as they were contented in their 
 homes, so that it was a proverb, during the Revolution, that a 
 well-armed body of New York provincials had nothing to fear 
 but an ague or an ambush. Cheap literature was unknown in 
 those days, but when Colonel Schuyler brought from England 
 " Paradise Lost" and the " Spectator," every intelligent person 
 in the colony made them a study for years. The influx of 
 other than the original settlers, such as the French Protestants, 
 induced liberality of feeling ; and their equal condition kept at 
 bay that " unconquered devil ambition," which lays waste so 
 large a portion of modern dignity and happiness. The very 
 pride of opinion that the Puritans cherish, would have been a 
 pernicious element in the American character, had it not been 
 modified by the less intellectual but more genial characteristics 
 of the New York colonists. If the New Englander represented 
 the great principle of reform, the Manhattanese embodied the 
 no less grand principle of conservatism. If the New England 
 character furnished the sails when our ship of state was 
 
THE NEW YORK COLONISTS. 163 
 
 launched, the Dutch emigrants were the ballast that kept her 
 in trim. If in New York there was less obvious religious zeal 
 than in Massachusetts, there was less also of bigotry ; if thero 
 was less enterprise, there was more contentment ; if less of public 
 spirit, there was more personal independence. If the school 
 master was not abroad, the bitterest fruits of the tree of know 
 ledge remained unplucked. If no marble banks adorned their 
 streets, well-stocked barns gave assurance of wealth no less sub 
 stantial. If the even tenor of life yielded few striking points to 
 the annalist, the peace that reigned in every bosom, put to 
 shame the bloody tales of history ; and if poetry found little to 
 celebrate, existence itself was like an acted poem, gliding on 
 ward in beautiful tranquillity. 
 
164 
 
 EYE-LANGUAGE 
 
 No tongue ; all eyes. 
 
 TEMPEST. 
 
 OF Nature s minute wonders, the human eye is the paragon. 
 Vainly will Science explore her rich arcana for a more impressive 
 example of the marvels she would illustrate. But it is not the 
 apparatus which the delicate knife of the anatomist reveals the 
 retina and lenses, or even their combined arrangement, that most 
 strikingly indicates the subtle workmanship involved in the little 
 fleshy globule we call the eye ; it is the jeffect they produce, 
 the purposes they subserve, the results they accomplish. Far 
 greater are these than the careless crowd dream of; far more 
 marvellous than even the intelligent and imaginative can fully 
 realize. The phenomenon of sight is, indeed, sufficiently extra 
 ordinary. Not less so are the minor missions which the visual 
 organ fulfils. The eye speaks with an eloquence and a truthful 
 ness surpassing speech. It is the window out of which the 
 winged thoughts often fly unwittingly. It is the tiny magic 
 mirror on whose crystal surface the moods of feeling fitfully 
 play, like the sunlight and shadows on a still stream. Yes if 
 there is one material form through wljich the spirit is visible, 
 and with which, when humanly embodied, it has specially to 
 do, that form is the EYE. Even in animals it is emphatically 
 the expressive feature. Who that has noted the look of timid 
 fondness with which a recreant dog approaches his master, or 
 observed the gleam of woe with which the dying deer regards 
 
EYE-LANGUAGE. 165 
 
 his hunters and has not felt this ? How much more signifi 
 cant is the language of the human eye ! How ceaselessly does 
 it represent the soul ! The instrument by which our most 
 valuable knowledge is received ; it is, at the same time, the out 
 ward interpreter of the inward world. How immediate and 
 delicate is the spirit s sway over the aspects and movements of 
 this complicated organ ! Instinctively it is raised in devotion, 
 and bent downward in shame. When enthusiasm lends fire to 
 the soul, the eye flashes ; when pleasure stirs the heart, the eye 
 sparkles ; when deep sorrow darkens the bosom, the eye distils 
 hot tears, "faster than Arabian trees their medicinal gum;" 
 when confidence stays the mind, the eye looks forth proudly ; 
 when love fills the breast, the eye beams with glad sympathy ; 
 when insanity desolates the brain, the eye roves wildly ; and 
 
 o > er t h e e ye j) ea th most exerts his might, 
 
 And hurls the spirit from her throne of light." 
 
 Thus through all the epochs of hum^ii experience, the eye typi- v 
 fies the workings of the soul. 
 
 To a warm-hearted wanderer through the world to one who 
 finds in his fellow-beings the chief sources of by-way pleasure 
 to a benevolent cosmopolite who is an adept in eye-language, it 
 is a delightful and constant resource. He may be a silent man 
 as far as regards his organs of speech, yet he is ever conversing. 
 In a stage-coach, by one glance around, he discovers with whom 
 he can find sympathy. With these he interchanges looks dur 
 ing the journey, and enjoys all the delights of sociability with 
 none of its trials. He reads family histories in the eye-language 
 of their members. If he but catch the " bonnie blue e en" of the 
 passing peasant girl, a cheerful humor is induced which abides 
 with him for hours. And the momentary beaming of a pair of 
 
166 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 dark lustrous orbs, fills him with high and moving thoughts. A 
 glance to him is rife with expression, beyond that of his verna 
 cular tongue. And thus gazing into these fountains for refresh 
 ment, and drawing thence inspiration and solace, his eye at length 
 meets one, the glance of which is deeply responsive an eye 
 that shines like the star of a happy destiny into his soul, and he 
 is not again contented till the beautiful orb beams only for him, 
 and becomes the light of his home. The most interesting por 
 tion of his studies in eye-language is completed. A modern 
 writer, in order to illustrate an almost indescribable sentiment, 
 says " it was like the eye of a woman first loved to the soul of 
 the poet." 
 
 There is no lack of well-authenticated instances to prove the 
 power of eye-language. An infuriated animal has often been 
 kept trembling at bay by the steadfast gaze of man, beneath 
 which its own angry eye quailed, yet could not turn aside. I 
 knew a venerable man who kept a powerful ruffian quietly 
 seated in his little parlor for an hour at night, while the only 
 servant of his small household was absent in quest of aid, merely 
 by silently fixing upon him a fearless look, such as awed his 
 perverted heart and chained his strong limbs. Many a rebuke 
 has been silently but deeply conveyed, by the calm yet indig 
 nant glance of the injured. How intuitively does a child under 
 stand the slightest expression of its mother s eye ! How well 
 do congenial beings comprehend their affinity before any com 
 munion, save that of eye-converse ! Consider, too, the singular 
 duration of the impression imparted by this feature. The world 
 abounds with minute symbols. Each small and exquisite flower, 
 gem, or insect, addresses the sense of the beautiful ; yet they 
 interest but for a moment. What more expressive similitude 
 has poetry found for the stars, than " angels eyes ?" The living 
 
EYE-LANGUAGE. 167 
 
 gem of nature is the eye, and how like a spell doth its language 
 haunt us ! Even in the pictures of the old masters, the effect is 
 often centred in the expression of this single organ. What fan 
 ciful man, having an inkling of superstition within him, has not 
 sometimes imagined a portrait animated with life ? Cover the 
 eyes, and the fantasy is gone. It has been finely remarked of 
 Titian s portraits that they look at us more than we at them. 
 We may forget the countenance of a friend from whom we are 
 divided, in many respects ; but if our interest has ever been 
 truly awakened in a fellow-being, the eye-language of the indi 
 vidual can scarcely escape our memories. Who cannot recal, 
 though he may not describe, the eye-language with which a 
 gifted man, under some strong inspiration, has uttered a memo 
 rable thought, or with which one near and dear to him has 
 breathed aught of deep interest to his ear ? The dignity of 
 self-possessed thought was in the eye of Paul, ere his words 
 affected Festus. The beaming glance of the Grecian mother 
 pointed out her jewels before her lips proclaimed them. The 
 unfortunate know a friend and are re-assured, the timid recog 
 nise a master-spirit and are nerved, and the guilty know their 
 accuser and quail, at the first momentary meeting of their gaze. 
 Beware of the man whose eye you can never meet. 
 
 Correggio excelled in painting downcast eyes; those of 
 Allston s pictures are remarkable for their grey, intellectual 
 expression. The St. Cecilia of Raphael probably presents the 
 best instance in the art, of the upturned eyes of inspiration. 
 Eye-language is richly illustrated in the pages of Shakspeare. 
 What an idea is given of its perversion in Lear s adjuration to 
 the unfortunate Gloster : 
 
 Get thee glass eyes ; 
 And like a scurvy politician, seem 
 To see the things thou dost not. 
 
168 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 Addressing Regan, he says of Goneril, " her eyes are fierce, 
 but thine do comfort and not burn." Cordelia envies not their 
 " still soliciting eyes," and her more honest orbs, at length, 
 prove their simplicity, by shedding " tears as pearls from 
 diamonds dropped." Othello when first awaked to jealousy, in 
 order to satisfy his doubts, exclaims to Desdemona, " let me see 
 your eyes !" Alas ! that he did not credit their truthful 
 expression ! Fear, too, is strongly evinced by the same 
 wondrous organs. In the awful hints the Ghost gives Hamlet 
 of " that undiscovered country," among the effects prophesied 
 from a more full revelation, is to make his " eyes like stars start 
 from their spheres." In some eyes, the bard bids us behold 
 "a lurking devil," in others "love s richest book," in the 
 poet s " a fine phrensy ;" and, be it remembered, it was upon 
 the eyes that Puck was ordered to squeeze the little purple 
 flower. Perdita with her fine imagination, could find no better 
 similitude for " violets dim " than " the lids of Juno s eyes." 
 Prospero exultingly declares, when Ferdinand and Miranda 
 meet, "at the first glance, they have changed eyes." Hear 
 Olivia in Twelfth Night : 
 
 " Methinks I feel this youth s perfections 
 With an invisible and subtle stealth, 
 To creep in at mine eyes." 
 
 What poet has presented such an image of the closed eyes of 
 beauty as that contained in lachimo s soliloquy over the sleeping 
 Imogen ? 
 
 " the flame o the taper 
 
 Bows towards her, and would underpeep her lids 
 To see th inclosed lights now canopied 
 With blue of Heaven s own tinct." 
 
EYE-LANGUAGE. 169 
 
 The prominent part this miraculous little globe performs in 
 love, is indicated by Romeo in Capulet s garden ; 
 
 " She speaks, yet she says nothing ; what of that 1 
 Her eye discourses, I will answer it." 
 
 And when Juliet warns liim of her kinsman s designs, he 
 ardently exclaims, 
 
 " Alack ! there lies more peril in thine eye, 
 Than twenty of their swords ; look thou but sweet, 
 And I am proof against their enmity." 
 
 The fair object of his passion, as if to reciprocate the senti 
 ment, upon the idea of his death, cries out, 
 
 " To prison eyes ! ne er look on liberty !" 
 
 Wolsey anticipated his downfall from the glance of King 
 Henry ; " ruin leaped from his eyes." Faulconbridge, as the 
 favors of fortune depart from King John, bids him 
 
 " Let not the world see fear and sad distrust 
 Govern the motions of a kingly eye." 
 
 Biron, in Love s Labors Lost, in balancing the advantages of 
 book-lore and eye-language, declares 
 
 " From woman s eye this doctrine I derive : 
 They are the ground, the books, the academies, 
 From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire. 
 For where is any author in the world 
 Teaches such beauty as a woman s eye 1" 
 
 How finely is the moral expression of the eye suggested by 
 the Friar who advocates the innocence of Hero ; 
 
 " in her eye there hath appeared a fire, 
 
 To burn the errors that these princes hold, \ 
 Against her maiden truth." 
 8 
 
170 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 Bassanio augurs his success with Portia because, he says, 
 
 ** Sometimes from her eyes 
 I did receive fair, speechless messages." 
 
 And even the incorrigible Benedick says to Beatrice " I will 
 be buried in thy eyes." Phcebe declares of Rosalind 
 
 " faster than his tongue 
 Did make offence, his eye did heal it up." 
 
 In discussing the beauty of the ancient Greeks, Shelley 
 suggests that the eye of the women of that nation, on account 
 of their social degradation, "could not have been deep and 
 intricate from the workings of the mind." Eye-language is, 
 indeed, no light test of cultivation ; of native disposition it is a 
 most authentic reporter. Hunt, in describing the hero of 
 Rimini, alludes with singular beauty, to the 
 
 " easy dignity there lies 
 In the frank lifting of his cordial eyes." 
 
 Who has not realized the power of Byron s simile " like the 
 light of a dark eye in woman ?" Falstaff vaunts of Page s 
 wife, " sometimes the beam of her view gilded rny foot, some 
 times my portly belly," Uncle Toby s dangerous experiment 
 in the sentry-box is well known ; and what a holy guidance 
 Petrarch found in the eyes of Laura ! 
 
 " Gentil mia donna, io veggio 
 Nel mover de vostri occhi un dolce lume 
 Che mi mostra la via che al ciel conduce." 
 
 An old dramatist has this conceit; 
 
 " A smile shoots graceful upward from her eyes 
 As if they had gained a victory o er grief; 
 
EYE-L ANGU A GE. 171 
 
 And with it many beams twisted themselves, 
 Upon whose golden threads the angels walk 
 To and again from heaven." 
 
 Eye-language, in its sweetest manifestations, is unfortunately 
 liable to change, like everything delightful upon this earth. 
 Touching this, a bacheloric essayist of some note thus reasoneth : 
 " Ask the married man who has been so but a short time, if 
 those blue eyes, where, during many years of anxious courtship, 
 truth, sweetness, serenity, seemed to be written in characters 
 which could not be misunderstood, ask him if the characters they 
 now convey be exactly the same ? if for truth, he does not read 
 a dull virtue (the mimic of constancy), which changes not only 
 because it wants the judgment to make a preference? if for 
 sweetness he does not read a stupid habit of being pleased at 
 everything ; if for sincerity he does not read animal tranquillity, 
 the dead pool of the heart which no breeze of passion can stir 
 into health. 1 
 
 According to Burke, clearness has much to do with the 
 beauty of the eye, and a languid movement of the organ is 
 most fascinating. Thus Venus is represented with drooping 
 lids. It is observable that while intense thought is indicated by 
 a fixed gaxe, pleasurable emotions, especially of a quiet kind, 
 induce the lids to fall somewhat, while the orb gently rolls. A 
 naturalist once gave me a most vivid description of a species of 
 eagle common in the West, the vibration of whose eye corres 
 ponded precisely with that of the second-hand of an old- 
 fashioned clock. Whoever has attentively watched the progress 
 of a bust under the hand of a modeller, must have realized the 
 importance of shape in giving its peculiar character to the eye. 
 Indeed, the skill of an artist may be estimated in no small 
 degree, by his success in this regard. Inferior sculptors gene- 
 
172 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 rally fail in representing nice distinctions in the form of the 
 individual eye, which once caught, gives it even in the cold and 
 colorless marble, a life-like appearance. 
 
 Richly expressive as is the human eye, the depths and grada 
 tions of its language are not to be lightly scanned. Men of the 
 most profound sentiment not unfrequently wear an aspect of in 
 difference, because common life awakens not their spirits. We 
 are often startled by the eye-language of such persons, from 
 the intensity with which it breaks from the dimness of habitual re 
 serve. I remember two nobly endowed individuals devoted to 
 very different pursuits whose eyes are seldom lifted from the 
 downward gaze of meditation. I have often remarked the effect 
 upon their whole aspect, when, under the excitement of a happy 
 thought, they raise their eyes from their veiled abodes. The 
 sudden rising of a smiling star in a monotonous sky, or the 
 quick gleaming of a sunbeam athwart a dim landscape, could 
 not be more electrical. We are told of Coleridge, that in 
 moments of intense abstraction, his eyes were so void of 
 language as to appear almost senseless ; yet in an expressive 
 mood, they were proverbially eloquent. And it is said of 
 Schiller, " his deportment, his gait, the mould of his limbs, his 
 least motion was dignified and grand, only his eyes were soft" 
 Whoever remarked the eye of Spurzheim when he spoke of " the 
 little beings" children, must have realized the mildness and 
 warmth of his benevolence. I can never forget the conception 
 of the power of eye-language which dawned upon me, on 
 seeing an Italian vocalist, at the very climax of an opera, suffer 
 the melody to die away, and look the intense feeling of the 
 moment so effectively as to visibly impress the silent multitude. 
 Having heard much of the eye-language of an accomplished 
 lady, I was several times at great pains to observe, but was 
 
ETE-LAN GUI A OE . 173 
 
 invariably unsuccessful. The conversation, in every instance, bad 
 been of a general nature, which helped to reconcile me to the 
 disappointment. Being soon after possessed of some circum 
 stances of the lady s history which gave me a clue to her 
 inward experience, I managed on the next opportunity to draw 
 her into a brief, but touching narration. The gradual increase 
 of expression and eventual melting gaze induced by the excite 
 ment, was more moving than any pathos of mere words or 
 circumstance that I ever knew. 
 
 The comparative dearth of eye-language in this country, is 
 lamentably significant of the narrow sway of the Ideal, and the 
 rarity of fresh and spontaneous self-development. Exceptions, 
 many and brilliant, there doubtless are ; but the traveller who 
 has been wont to note the eloquent activity and profundity of 
 expression of the eye in most of the continental countries, will 
 feel, as he wanders about this republic, a difference, not to say 
 a deficiency in this respect. The guarded expression, the 
 waving, the indifferent, or at best merely brisk tenor of eye-lan 
 guage among the busy men around him, cannot escape his 
 notice. And when from beneath a fair brow, or in the glance 
 of an enthusiast, the mystic organ speaks with unwonted free 
 dom and effect, he feels revived as by a fondly-remembered tone. 
 Beautiful are the workings of the mystic and microscopic 
 machine. The flowers and the stars speak a moving language ; 
 but from the eye beams what will endure when fragrance and 
 light are no more. The curious characters of written language 
 -barren words treasured by lexicographers, and arbitrarily 
 decreed the lovelier hieroglyphics which bespangle the sky, or 
 deck the fields, what are they compared with the more subtle 
 signs which beam in the visual organs the breathings of the 
 soul, in that 
 
1*74 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 " Bright ball on which the spirit sat 
 Through life, and looked out in its various moods 
 Of gentleness, and joy, and love, and hope, 
 And gained this frail flesh credit in the world." 
 
175 
 
 HUMOR. 
 
 To fleet the time lightly as they did in the golden age." 
 
 As You LIKE IT. 
 
 THE affinity between humor and sentiment has rarely been 
 so exquisitely indicated as in the writings of Hood. We know 
 of instances, indeed, of their coincident manifestation with equal 
 or greater richness, but none in which they seem so closely 
 allied and mutually active. One reason, undoubtedly, is that 
 Hood s literary development was an incessant series of ebul 
 litions, instead of distinct and elaborate efforts. The smile and 
 the tear alternate, at his invocation, with a transition so rapid, 
 that our sympathies, if once yielded to his page, are either 
 oppressed with the solemn associations of life or buoyant with 
 its absurd phases. " Hero and Leander" is as serious an expo 
 sition of the tender passion as can readily be found, and 
 " Eugene Aram s Dream" touches the remorseful chord in every 
 heart, while it is acknowledged that the humanity of the age 
 has been more effectively stirred by the " Song of the Shirt" 
 than the most eloquent charity sermon ; yet the puns, whimsi 
 calities, and ludicrous sketches of character, from the same pen, 
 have identified the author s name with the risible faculty to a 
 greater extent, perhaps, than that of any modern writer. Every 
 healthy mind is bound to recognise and indulge the comic in 
 some way or other. Popular amusements, literature, and social 
 life obey this law ; and where it is evaded through asceticism 
 or wilfulness, the inroads of care become corroding and the 
 
176 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 elasticity of the spirits is destroyed. The morality of the prin 
 ciple is evident. Un tristo, among the Italians, signifies not 
 only a sad but a dangerous character ; and the ability to relish 
 a joke is essential not only to good companionship, but to can 
 dor. It has to do with the natural sentiments as Veil as the 
 perceptive organs. Even Michael Angelo, whose genius was of 
 the most dignified order, used to " enjoy the harmless comedy 
 of life." An eye for the ridiculous, a sense of the grotesque in 
 combination and the quaint in character, usually accompany a 
 love of the beautiful and an admiration of the grand. Burke 
 romped with children ; the letters of Keats abound in vivacious 
 allusions, and those of Cowper and Burns are often playful in 
 their tone. 
 
 Humor is doubtless intended as the safety-valve of concen- 
 trative minds, and its prevalence, in the English race, is owing 
 to their reserve of character, which finds no vent through a 
 mercurial temperament like the French and Italians. It has 
 been often remarked that earnest men excel in humor, and we 
 perceive how benign is the law which thus tempers elements of 
 fearful intensity. In social life, there are no characters which 
 are thoroughly satisfactory except those which unite these fun 
 damental traits, for they only can meet the wants of both mind 
 and heart. We need earnestness in a companion to respond to - 
 our affections, to recognise our serious ideas, to re-assure our 
 distrustful moods, and to reason with us of " foreknowledge, will, 
 and fate ;" we need a sense of the ridiculous, a playful fancy, a 
 capacity of abandon, to help us lighten the burden of care, to 
 recreate the weary mind, to make holiday and " fleet the time 
 lightly as they did in the golden age." Not to speak irreve 
 rently, the holiest of beings has indicated how nearly allied 
 these primal qualities are to moral excellence and true religion. 
 
HUMOR. 17*7 
 
 In the two monitions, when expanded by reflection to their 
 complete significance, " become as little children" and " enter 
 into thy closet," we have the extremes of the unconscious and 
 the voluntary, passivity and action the play and the work of 
 the mind the humor and the earnestness whose alternations are 
 the instinct of superior natures. A colloquy in the forest of 
 Arden and a soliloquy of Hamlet represent the same thing with 
 dramatic truth. Of late English writers, Dickens is the most 
 effective in humor. To those whose perception in this regard 
 is keen, the most attractive passages in his writings, are those 
 frequent episodes where his fancy revels with inanimate things, 
 or seizes a peculiarity of aspect or manner in its humorous rela 
 tions. It is observable that he lingers over and returns with 
 evident pleasure to such ideas, and dallies with them with sin 
 gular vivacity. 
 
 It is essential to the charm which I have attempted to 
 describe, that a voluntary, complacent, and easy spirit should 
 prevail. The least appearance of restraint or effort mars the 
 design, for the very term humor signifies indulgence, the yield- / 
 ing to a mood and luxurious dalliance with fancy. The loco 
 motive facilities of our times have affected even literature with 
 dispatch. When we take up a volume published a century or * 
 two ago, the first characteristic that strikes us is a certain repose 
 and air of leisure in the very style. The authors seem not in 
 the least haste. They write very much as a country gentleman 
 talks with his friend from town as if desirous to prolong the 
 rare delights of companionship. A modern author, on the \j 
 contrary, shows, in his very language, that he is infected with 
 the busy and progressive spirit of the age. He dares not linger 
 by the wayside, but presses on to the conclusion of his task by 
 the most direct way. Prolixity, digression, and elaborate inter- 
 
 8* 
 
178 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 ludes are not tolerated, unless redeemed by extraordinary talent. 
 Authors and readers, in times when literature was less culti 
 vated, wrote and perused comparatively few books ; they, 
 however, made the most of them. Their idiosyncrasies were 
 less overlaid, and the hurry of life did not prevent the exercise 
 and observation of individualities. This free and enjoyable^ 
 way of writing doubtless leads to tedium, but it is none the less 
 characteristic of humorists, who by nature are apt to harp too 
 constantly on one string. The zest of their works does not 
 depend on the incidents narrated, but on the flavor of the whole 
 composition, on the spirit it exhales, the ingenuity of the 
 expressions, the knowledge of man and nature quaintly revealed, 
 the vein of sentiment, the play of mirth in a word, the humor 
 it embodies. Such is the indefinable charm of Mackenzie 
 in pathos, of Steele in glimpses of life, of Sydney Smith in wit, 
 and of Sterne in the combination of these elements. The latter 
 has a characteristic defence of this cheerful quality "Yorick 
 had an invincible dislike and opposition in his nature to gravity 
 not to gravity as such, for when gravity was wanted, ne 
 would be the most grave or serious of mortal men for days and 
 weeks together ; but he was an enemy to the affectation of it, 
 and declared open war against it, only as it appeared a cloak 
 for ignorance or for folly ; and then, whenever it fell in his way, 
 however sheltered and protected, he seldom gave it much quarter." 
 In the naked temper which a merry heart discovered, he would 
 say there was no danger but to itself, whereas the very essence 
 of gravity was design, and consequently deceit ; twas a taught 
 trick to gain credit of the world for more sense and knowledge 
 than a man was worth." 
 
 Two traits of Hood s humor are thoroughly English, and in 
 a great degree original the imaginary experiences of creatures 
 
HUMOR. 179 
 
 of habit suddenly placed in entirely novel circumstances, and 
 the ludicrous yet natural imitation of familiar letters between 
 individuals of particular vocations. Life in England is so 
 mechanical, and the customs incident to a mercantile society so 
 prevalent, that the very idea of a clerk transformed into a rural 
 economist, or a haberdasher turned sportsman, is diverting. 
 Hood s pictures, drawn from such inventions, are singularly 
 ingenious. Indeed, by reason of his quick sympathies and alert 
 perceptions, he obtained humorous suggestions from his daily 
 walks through the metropolis as well as from the musings of 
 his sick room. Such caricature sketches as the "Tale of a 
 Trumpet" and " Miss Killniansegg and her precious leg," imply 
 great observation as well as vivacious fancy ; while " The School 
 mistress Abroad," " The Pugsley Papers," and " Mr. Chubb, a 
 Piscatory Romance," touch off the harmless extravagances of 
 actual life with inimitable zest. A volume of the most exqui 
 site specimens both of humor and pathos, might be compiled 
 from this writer, who left material for at least twenty. Many, 
 however, of his articles are mere jeux cfesprit, which he appro 
 priately called Whimsicalities an order of comic writing that 
 may be justly said to have been invented by him. It is a sad 
 necessity which compels a man of brilliant mind to coin his 
 jokes for bread. True humor is not to be thus forced ; and, 
 therefore, Hood had recourse to whims a lighter and more 
 available kind of artillery. While the abundance of these 
 prove his marvellous industry and the ceaseless activity of his 
 inventive faculty ; he furnished, at genial moments, more com 
 plete and artistic emanations of his genius, which now survive, 
 and will have a standard and endearing place in modern litera 
 ture. The range of no poetical mind is more wide than that 
 which equally well conceived the Dream of the Midsummer 
 
180 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 Fairies and the lonely grief of the weary Sempstress, and could 
 revive, with equal verisimilitude, the classic associations of the 
 fables of mythology, and depict the incongruous passion of a 
 poor Irish amazon in search of her lost child. 
 
181 
 
 THE GOLD FEVER. 
 
 This yellow slave 
 
 Will knit and break religions ; bless the accursed ; 
 Make the hoar leprosy adored ; place thieves 
 And give them title, knee and approbation, 
 With senators on the bench. 
 
 TIMON or ATHENS. 
 
 A POPULAR epithet usually goes nearer the truth than we 
 are apt to imagine. The term " fever " applied to the excite 
 ment in regard to California gold, is a tacit recognition of the 
 unhealthy feelings and extravagant projects to which it has 
 given rise. Now that a breathing-spell has occurred both in the 
 discussion of the topic and in the rush of emigration, a glance 
 may be desirable at the philosophy of the subject, and, as 
 enthusiasm cools, the eye of reflection may possibly behold some 
 valuable truth which it requires no exile to discover, no 
 digging to unearth, and no washing to purify. 
 
 In the first place, then, this gold fever is not a new disease ; 
 on the contrary it is one of the most familiar and well-defined 
 " which flesh is heir to." Neither is a mining district the best 
 place to study its phases or trace its laws. Its diagnosis, like 
 many more complicated disorders, may be learned to the greatest 
 advantage in the French capital. Enter, soon after night-fall, a 
 maison-de-jeu ; the heaps of Napoleons on the green covered 
 tables, their musical clink when drawn by the little hoe into the 
 pouch of the banquier, the pale or wildly-flushed cheeks, intent 
 eyes, and affected nonchalance of the silent groups ; the smile of 
 
182 THE OP TIM 1ST. 
 
 mockery, the badinage of fear, the cry of desperate joy, the 
 mute gaze of utter hopelessness ; the wretched calmness of the 
 resolved suicide as he turns away, the hectic delight of the 
 winner, and especially the brooding, keen, remorseful anxiety of 
 those whose doom is yet suspended constitute the legitimate 
 and ill-disguised symptoms of the gold fever in all its stages. 
 Let one untouched by the malady, thus contemplate it, for a 
 single hour, by the flashing light of those mysterious salons, 
 where the most insidious of human passions developes itself with 
 a subtle and instinctive impressiveness, unequalled by the 
 most vivid dramatic personation, and the spectacle will reveal, at 
 once, the latent horror of the contagion. A young naval 
 officer, when asked what period of his first battle was most 
 appalling, replied, the few hushed moments when they sprinkled 
 the decks with sand, to drink the human blood as yet unshed. 
 Thus is it with the contest for gold. Not in the earnestness of- 
 the sanguine miner, or the tranquil industry of the gainful 
 devotee, or the luxury of the millionaire not in the dawn or 
 the consummation of the pursuit of wealth, but in the pre 
 meditated recklessness of the gambler, do we fully sec the 
 delirium of the gold fever. 
 
 If the perspective of time were not a necessary condition of 
 romance, the present age would be deemed as fertile in the 
 wonderful as any which have preceded it ; but this obvious 
 truth, though sometimes acknowledged, is seldom realized. 
 The scientific discoveries, political revolutions, and social 
 phenomena which have occurred within the last quarter of a 
 century, if graphically narrated, and poetically or even philo 
 sophically illustrated by as inventive and eloquent genius as 
 has celebrated the reign of Elizabeth, Louis XIV., or Isabella, 
 it would appear that no interval has ever been more crowded 
 
.GOLD FEVER. 183 
 
 with grand, marvellous, or interesting events. The mere facts of 
 a Pope having originated a liberal European movement, of the 
 Atlantic being crossed in nine days, of the discovery of the 
 electric telegraph, as matters of past history, would strike us 
 with deep surprise ; yet they are but a few of the more recent 
 incidents of our own day. Romance has thrown her fairy 
 mantle over the expeditions of Cortez and Raleigh; and, at 
 some distant period, the novelist and historian will find more 
 prolific themes in the consequences which will follow a circum 
 stance that happened a year ago, on the American Fork, a 
 California river, about fifty miles from New Helvetia. A work 
 man, then and there engaged in cutting a mill-sluice, saw many 
 particles glitter in the sunshine at the bottom of his excavation. 
 Upon careful inspection they proved to be gold. Subsequent 
 experiments have shown that this precious metal is intermingled 
 with the soil, in various proportions, over an extent of six 
 hundred miles. The fine dust is found chiefly in the beds of 
 streams and along their borders, and the coarser deposits 
 imbedded in the granite of the adjacent hills. As yet the 
 mining processes have been crude and unskilful ; the^ arrange 
 ments of the government for protecting and systematizing the 
 country altogether inadequate, and the means for obtaining 
 correct statistical information but partially reliable. 
 
 The American flag was planted in California in July, 1846. 
 Emigration from the United States soon enlivened her enterpris 
 ing population, whose prior resource had been chiefly the sale 
 of hides, obtained from the hordes of wild cattle. The gold 
 discovery following so rapidly, changed the aspect of things at 
 once ; from a gradually improving agricultural and trading 
 settlement, the whole region was transformed into an arena for 
 
184 THB OPTIMIST. 
 
 all the adventurous spirits and reckless fortune-hunters from the 
 United States, Oregon, and the Sandwich islands. 
 
 As early as 1602, a Spanish expedition commenced, with 
 immediate success, the propagation of the Catholic religion in 
 the region now known as California, and it is said that the 
 Jesuits early knew and long kept the secret of the gold mines. 
 Its discovery is attributed to Cabrillo, a Spanish navigator, in 
 1548, and the upper portion of the country was visited by 
 Sir Francis Drake, twenty years later, who called it New Albion. 
 It soon became a Mexican territory, and the only civilizing 
 agency to which the original inhabitants were long subjected, 
 was that of the missions established at various points. A few 
 Boston merchants sent vessels annually to the coast, and carried 
 on a lucrative trade, exchanging cheap articles of necessity and 
 ornament for hides and tallow. At length the tide of emigration 
 from the thickly populated Atlantic towns, having overspread 
 the large western states, began to set, in casual eddies, towards 
 this distant and partially explored region. Led by the spirit of 
 adventure or the hope of advantageous colonization, companies 
 were formed to traverse the wilderness, where too many of them 
 encountered incredible fatigues and perished by famine, Indian 
 massacres, or exhaustion. 
 
 As the trails became more defined, the journey of the 
 emigrants grew less perilous, and the accounts of recent 
 expeditions, though sufficiently unattractive to those wedded to 
 the amenities of metropolitan life, possessed the interest of 
 novelty, and the charm of promise to the enterprising and 
 scientific. Day after day, like the caravans which traverse the 
 Orient, bodies of men, women, and children, with their provisions, 
 household utensils, wagons, oxen, mules and horses, moved 
 
GOLDFBVER. 185 
 
 slowly on, encamping in the open air, cooking by the way-side, 
 seeking drink from springs, and fresh sustenance from the game 
 accidentally encountered ; exposed to every extreme of weather, 
 now drenched to the skin and now parched with heat ; the grass 
 their nightly couch, and the heavens their shelter when no tree 
 was at hand. The freedom of this life, its primitive simplicity 
 of habits, and especially the intimate contact into which it 
 brought the wanderers with nature in her most luxuriant as 
 well as primeval and barren aspects, were the redeeming 
 features of an experience that involved an amount of deprivation, 
 hardship, petty trials, and formidable danger, enough to 
 dishearten all who are uninspired by a strong motive or 
 unsustained by vigor of body and elasticity of spirit. 
 
 Patiently onward roamed the emigrants, over prairies bright 
 with exuberant vegetation, through saturated plains into which 
 the groaning wains and floundering oxen hopelessly sank, and 
 across miniature oceans of saline deposits evolving clouds of fine 
 dust at every step. Sometimes a magnificent clump of oaks, 
 firs, pines, or cedars, greeted their eyes, weary with gazing over 
 a vast expanse limited only by distant mountains or the far 
 horizon ; now a volcanic debris, now a curious fossil skeleton, 
 then a gorgeous and illusive mirage, and again, enormous fungi 
 arrest their progress for a moment. Herds of antelopes or buf 
 faloes, elks, wild horses or cattle, an isolated settler s lodge, an 
 Indian encampment, or a band of returning emigrants, alone 
 give signs of life amid those fresh yet melancholy solitudes. 
 Lofty bluffs, weather-stained and tempest-shaped into similitudes 
 of Egyptian monuments, afld cloud-hung with a sublime diiar 1 
 oscuro ; flowers and insects of the most brilliant tints, yet to be 
 baptized into the nomenclature of science, and birds of the 
 gayest plumage and the richest notes, heralding a new realm 
 
186 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 for the naturalist, met their view ; but from all these attractions, 
 life s stern realities ever and anon withdraw the wanderers. 
 They stopped to bury their dead in the lonely wild, to rest the 
 sick, to let a child be born, or celebrate a wedding ; and then 
 went forward, with lingering steps, until the smoke of the eve 
 ning bivouack curled upward against the stainless firmament. 
 Thus, gradually, and under almost solemn auspices, were the 
 agricultural emigrants to California wont to shape their way 
 landwise. The fertility of the soil, the purity of the atmosphere, 
 and the evenness of the temperature, justified their choice of a 
 home ; and the prospect seemed to be that a rich and judicious 
 cultivation would soon alter the whole face of the country, and 
 that it would be populated by a race of Saxon landholders. 
 The gold discovery has wrought a sudden alteration. The land 
 journey is too slow for the restlessness of cupidity. From every 
 city of the Union craft of all kinds are despatched to the 
 Pacific. Climate and soil, the latent sources of national wealth, 
 and in no small degree the mould of national character, cease 
 to invite the settler to a region which has become the prey of 
 the adventurer. 
 
 The history of previous speculations of a like character, has 
 been gracefully chronicled by two of our most eminent authors, 
 Irving and Prescott. In the conquests of Mexico and Peru by 
 the latter, and in the former s Life of Columbus, the popular 
 excitement, large emigration, disputes, successes, and misfortunes 
 attendant on new gold discoveries, are portrayed with careful 
 authenticity and classic effect. From these we cannot but 
 derive the impression that the ultimate benefit of such occur 
 rences is incidental, and the individual hazard extreme. In the 
 vast and unrevealed designs of that Providence which modern 
 history now recognises as deeply inwoven through all the great 
 
GOLD FEVER. 187 
 
 events of the world, it may be that the magnetic ore, which 
 attracts thousands to the shores of California, is destined to 
 change the balance of civilization, to carry new elements of 
 social action to the Pacific, and thus bring together, under 
 similar influences .of policy, education, and religion, the extreme 
 divisions of the earth. There is no end to the visions, which, in 
 the light of a hopeful imagination, may thus be conjured from 
 the gold fever. 
 
 Meantime, however, and especially just at present, its opera 
 tion within our own borders affords no such glowing phase. 
 We have been forcibly reminded of De Tocqueville s declaration, 
 that the ties of home and kindred are essentially loose in a mer 
 cantile republic, while observing the extraordinary facility with 
 which men have left accustomed pursuits, local obligations, and 
 family altars, to engage in this distant and hazardous enterprise. 
 Many a gentle being can heartily echo the protest of one of 
 Fletcher s characters as she beholds her cherished hero trans 
 formed into a gold adventurer 
 
 " Had I been old, 
 
 Or blasted in my bud, he might have showed 
 Some shadow of dislike ; but to prefer 
 The lustre of a little trash, Asinoe, 
 And the poor glow-worm light of some faint jewels 
 Before the light of love and soul of beauty 
 O how it vexes me !" 
 
 It is probable that the ore already discovered was brought 
 down by successive freshets from the adjacent mountains ; and 
 experience has proved that in such a case the supply may be 
 temporary : this accounts for its immediate abundance at the 
 Placers, where we are told that fifteen thousand dollars worth 
 was easily procured in a day at the commencement of the 
 
188 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 . 
 
 search.. Few adventurers consider the other side of the case, or 
 perceive that a very small minority of the gold-seekers derive 
 any compensation for their deprivations. The exorbitant price 
 of labor and articles of daily necessity, the liability to incur 
 dangerous fever and chronic rheumatism, and the utter absence 
 of all that is suggested to an English mind by the word com 
 fort ; the necessary inundation of " landless resolutes," vaga 
 bonds, and criminals, to the scene of action, and the consequent 
 insecurity of life and property, are grave offsets to the dazzling 
 prospects which induce so many California pilgrimages. Inte 
 rested parties continually minister to the excited feelings which 
 the El Dorado stories circulated by the press are alone sufficient 
 to keep alive. Enormous quantities of ardent spirits are car 
 ried out in every vessel, as well as weapons of all kinds and 
 ammunition. In a few months, that region will be overstocked 
 with the ordinary staples of trade to such a degree that their 
 price must necessarily fall below the home-market value. At 
 present, the glittering dust is the circulating medium. Instead 
 of paying for a glass of negus with a fip, a pinch of gold-dust 
 is received, sometimes worth eight dollars. Allured by the 
 prevalence of this coveted treasure, garrisons, ships, secure 
 employments, moderate but certain profits, farms, shops, offices, 
 and worst of all, civilized homes, are deserted ; and men of all 
 grades and blood, from the half-intoxicated savage to the 
 educated New-Englander, sailors, soldiers, clerks, physicians, 
 clergymen, and naval officers, may be seen arrayed in uncouth 
 India-rubber garments, delving with spade and pickaxe, or care 
 fully gleaning the shining particles from the sand. Meantime 
 the ordinary avocations of the new settlers were wholly abandoned. 
 No harvest fields waved ; the click of no mason s trowel brok e 
 the slumberous quiet of noontide ; the cheering shout of mari- 
 
GOLD FIVER. 189 
 
 ners was hushed. Only the sharp-ringing blows of the smith s 
 anvil, forging tools for the miners, informed the spectator that 
 the " gold fever" had smitten down the arm of honest industry. 
 The political economy view of tin s subject has been clearly 
 unfolded by the daily press. Writers have shown what, 
 indeed, it requires but little sagacity and a limited knowledge 
 of history to perceive that the financial worth of the precious 
 metals diminishes in the exact ratio of their abundance. 
 Among the Peruvians it was as articles of manufacture, in their 
 ornamental and utilitarian significance, that gold and silver 
 were prized ; and wherever these ores have existed in great 
 natural deposits, or through productive colonial mines, there 
 industry has languished and national progress been completely 
 stayed. It were easy to draw a parallel between Spain and 
 England, or the United States and South America, in support 
 of this assertion, but it is one of those obvious facts deducible 
 from as obvious principles, which are self-evident. To illustrate 
 the connexion between labor and capital, and distinguish 
 actual from nominal wealth, is the vocation of t"he poli 
 tical economist; and an American, least of all, requires such 
 lessons, familiar as he is with the substantial prosperity of states 
 destitute of the natural resources of a rich soil and an equable 
 climate, or spontaneous fertility. It hence appears that intelli--* 
 gent enterprise is the most prolific source of wealth, and that 
 moral causes lie at the basis of all enduring good fortune. 
 These moral causes bring us to the individual, as economical 
 ones refer chiefly to social interests, and both originate in 
 natural laws. Infringement of these, in their physiological 
 relations, is the occasion of bodily disease ; and it is precisely 
 as true that all social fevers are traceable to a similar violation. 
 Now, one of the most universal, occult, and inexorable of natu- 
 
190 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 ral laws, is what may be termed the indirect method. Nature 
 does not yield her choicest gifts except, as it were, incidentally. 
 The moment we attempt to wrest her secrets from her, she is 
 mute ; but delights to reveal them to some humble follower, 
 who has never profaned her sanctities by any conscious, inquisi 
 torial, or self-seeking intrusion. Wealth is valueless, except as 
 associated with certain gratifications, and these, according to 
 the law in question, are attainable only by indirect means 
 such as labor, invention, patience, care. There is an inevitable 
 compensatory principle. The process of earning is a necessary 
 element in the process of enjoying money. If inherited, only 
 by munificent charities, art-patronage, liberal enterprise, or 
 generous hospitality, can the possessor reconcile himself to his 
 condition, or win the needful self-respect whereby alone his 
 means bring pleasure. 
 
 It is on this account that we have little faith in the gold j 
 picked up from its native earth, until it is transferred to the 
 hand of regular industry, as a symbol of the value of a certain 
 amount of labor. Then, like mercy, " it blesses him that gives 
 and him that takes ;" for the conditions which render it truly 
 available are fulfilled. Otherwise it is like a stolen badge of 
 honor or a forged passport a facility, not genuine, authentic, 
 or capable of realizing the good of which it is the illegitimate 
 sign. In a material point of view, it may, indeed, purchase the 
 same amount of commodity, but in a moral and enjoyable way, 
 its efficacy is limited by the absence of that zest only derivable 
 from labor, the consciousness of desert, and the freshness of 
 desire. Through the individual affection of men the species is 
 propagated ; through the social instincts arts and science 
 advance ; alchemy, a personal quest, led the way to chemistry, 
 a universally benign science ; astrology, a delusion encouraged 
 
GOLD FEVER. 191 
 
 by superstitious kings, ushered forth those sublime astronomical 
 truths, which guide the mariner on the trackless sea and denude 
 eclipses of terror by exact prophecy. Thus we are forced to 
 serve a general end in prosecuting those which seem altogether 
 limited to self; and it is in proportion to the indirect good 
 achieved by individual pursuit that it is crowned, not perhaps 
 with apparent success, but certainly with absolute satisfaction. 
 Hence the contrast in the destiny of lands and persons enriched 
 by industry and by luck, by enterprise and usury between 
 Massachusetts and Peru, Antonio and Shylock. Compare the 
 gangs of houseless exiles wading and scraping, in the attitude 
 of the spirit " least erect of all" even in hell, among the rifted 
 gullies of Sacramento, with the manly race that "drag the 
 monsters of the deep from the Pacific to light our tables ;" con 
 trast the gold-seeking emigrants to California with the hardy 
 Dutch fur companies, whose pioneer enterprise laid the founda 
 tion of New York s commercial greatness ! The brave clamberer 
 among the rocky cliffs of the North Sea hears, with a thrill of 
 pleasure at his own daring, the echoes of the gun which has 
 brought to his feet the wild bird whose downy plumage is to 
 minister to the luxury of a distant clime ; the shipmaster 
 realizes the indomitable energy of his birth-place, as he dis 
 charges, at an East India pier, the cargo of ice quarried from a 
 New England lake ; and the diver, as he exultingly drinks in a 
 long draught of upper air, with the pearl which is to deck some 
 fair and regal bosom clutched in his grasp, rejoices in the prize 
 which he has wrested from the sea. Tame, in comparison, 
 are the spoils which require not the alchemy of invention and 
 assiduity to convert them into gold. Acquisitiveness, when 6 " 
 the exclusive motive power, dulls the edge of fine enjoyment. 
 To hunt for lucre, through no intervening emprise, no wide- 
 
192 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 embracing interest, no exercise of varied faculties and aptitudes, 
 is like gratifying one s alimentative wants alone and gluttonously, 
 in comparison with the wit, the song, and the geniality which 
 makes a dinner of herbs better than a stalled ox ; or like the 
 unauthorized love of the orientalist compared to the lingering 
 sweetness of that gained by a " long course of wooing." 
 
 We hold it to be an incontrovertible principle in all human 
 affairs, that the spasmodic is not the normal condition, and that 
 health, in the entire significance of the term, is the essential 
 quality, to secure which a wise man will modify all his habits 
 and relations. Taste, opinion, sentiment, have their unhealthy 
 phase, which, if encouraged, may render the very consciousness 
 morbid. Then, in point of fact, we are in a false relation to 
 society, to nature, and to truth. The integrity of our life is 
 broken, and we become either sullen or distrait. In a commer 
 cial land, the readiest avenue for this disturbing element to gain 
 admittance, is through pecuniary ambition a very different 
 thing from avarice, and in our view, a passion almost peculiar to 
 mercantile republics. It may be defined as the love of power 
 based on wealth a kind of substitute for the aristocracy of 
 public service, which gave pr-estige to the leading names of the 
 noblesse and the aristocracy of mere birth, like that of the 
 English and Italian nobility. That money is vehemently desired 
 in this country, independent of the physical benefit it affords, 
 has been remarked by all intelligent foreigners. In the Old 
 World it is chiefly prized for the gratifications it will purchase ; 
 in the New for the influence that attends it. Hence, besides 
 the mere love of acquisition, society is here beset with a passion 
 for gold as a symbol of power, and this combined feeling is 
 necessarily a self-exaggerated one. To this cause weattribute 
 the rapidity with which the gold-fever has spread. Omitting 
 
GOLD FEVER. 193 
 
 those driven by absolute necessity, as a desperate resource, to 
 the valleys of Sacramento, there is a very large class whose real 
 wants had ample provision, who have engaged in this enterprise 
 from a most extravagant, untenable idea of the value of nominal 
 wealth, and the mere symbols of fortune, which is nothing less 
 than an absolute monomania. 
 
 One would imagine from the universal eagerness of apprecia 
 tion manifested in regard to the recent discovery, that there 
 were no other veins to be worked than those of gold. Such an 
 idea is unworthy of an age when literature and art are a com 
 mon possession, and the philosophy of life is ably discussed. 
 There are veins of iron and granite, of loam and peat, of coal 
 and marble, intersecting this continent, of vastly more importance 
 to the welfare of the people since they are destined to give 
 reliable employment to thousands, to bring into existence new 
 capital and new labor, and thus increase the only genuine basis 
 of wealth national industry. It were desirable, also, that those 
 who prattle with so much facility of veins of gold, should take 
 cognisance of those veins which mysteriously nourish their own 
 bodies, and realize, as they count the pulsations that indicate 
 the precarious tenure of human existence, that the " life is more 
 than meat, and the body than raiment." Then, too, is it justifi 
 able, amid such enlightenment and Christianity, to forget the 
 veins of humor and pathos modern genius has so effectively 
 worked, and in exploring whose treasures the desolation even of 
 an impoverished lot may bo forgotten ? Crabbe and Dickens 
 have a vein of humanity, Wordsworth of meditation, Coleridge 
 of metaphysics, Channing of moral truth, Byron of impassioned 
 perception, Shelley of aerial phantasy, Lamb of delicate wit, 
 Schiller of aspiration, Scott of picturesqueness, and so on 
 through all the mazes of the literature of the century. It is 
 
 9 
 
194 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 not the material, but the providence which rules it ; it is not 
 the positive gain, but the manner of acquisition ; it is truth to 
 individual wants, aims, endowments, and tendencies, that com 
 mon sense mainly regards in the pursuit of wealth. A bare 
 subsistence, earned according to the idiosyncrasies of one s 
 nature, is better than a fortune gained at their expense. A 
 lover of the sea, with his stern toil and limited wages, a poet 
 giving a finishing touch to the song which only buys salt for his 
 porridge, a scientific mechanician, like Remington, executing 
 his inventions with scarce bread enough for sustenance, are 
 more content than if they were sifting their daily thousands with 
 the gold-diggers of San Francisco. Exquisitely does Ion utter 
 the great truth that this highly sanctioned adaptation is the 
 only pledge of genuine success : 
 
 " The coarsest reed that trembles in the marsh, 
 If Heaven select it for its instrument, 
 May shed celestial music on the breeze 
 As clearly as the pipe whose virgin gold 
 Befits the lip of Phoebus." 
 
195 
 
 THE PROFESSION OF LITERATURE. 
 
 Let literature be an honorable augmentation to your arms, not constitute the 
 coat or fill the escutcheon. 
 
 COLERIDGE. 
 
 OF the wisdom of this counsel I am more and more convinced. 
 The circumstances unfavorable to literature as a profession in 
 this country, are often alluded to with regret. That there is 
 not a more general literary taste among us, is indeed to be 
 deplored, but for the comparative paucity of exclusively literary 
 persons, reflection will afford many consolations. The most 
 cursory observation will convince any one that there is no 
 danger of an intellectual famine from scarcity of books. It has 
 long been a matter of impossibility for the most industrious 
 individual to attend to his regular vocation, and, at the same 
 time, keep pace with the current literature of the day. In 
 truth, it is fairly questionable whether the general mind would 
 not gain a signal advantage if the fecundity of the press were 
 suddenly checked and readers thrown back awhile upon the 
 neglected books of a less showy, but more vigorous period. 
 Let any man of good taste and true sensibility to the charms of 
 genius, deliberately estimate the amount of real originality, 
 valuable ideas, and vital interest which the publications of a 
 single month contain, and he will acknowledge that a little 
 more retrospective reading, and less reading of any kind, would 
 be a blessing. The interests of society are not then likely to 
 suffer if the number of professed authors is diminished as regards 
 the quantity of literature, and I believe it can be demonstrated 
 
196 THE PTI MIST. 
 
 that in quality the gain would be infinite. Task-work of all 
 kinds is ungenial, and its product possesses not the warm vitality 
 of truth. This is especially true of literary labor. To be really 
 excellent, it should be spontaneous. If we inspect its annals we 
 shall often find that the living gems of thought have been 
 brought to light less frequently by the professed writer, than by 
 those to whom literature has been a pastime, an occasional 
 rather than a regular and unremitting employment. The fairest 
 laurels, even of the author, have in general been won by those 
 early efforts which were prompted rather by taste than necessity, 
 and before the pen had become the only source of subsistence. 
 In these cases it is one of the most melancholy things in the 
 world to turn from the fresh outpourings of genius, active from 
 fulness of thought, to the cold and forced results of the same 
 mind, prolific only from the drudgery of authorship. There is 
 scarcely a fine writer of our times who has not thus almost 
 destroyed his own enchantment. How few will leave behind 
 them a reputation unmarred by their own indiscreet drafts upon 
 jaded faculties, or vain attempts to pursue a successful vein of 
 invention beyond its natural limits ! The most splendid 
 specimens of didactic writing which have appeared in the 
 English language of late years, are in the form of articles in the 
 leading reviews. Most of these are the production of active, 
 political, or professional men, who turn to literature only in the 
 intervals of other and more pressing duties. The best poetry 
 yet produced in this country is by bards who can only woo the 
 Muses when occasionally freed from the labors of office, finance, 
 or politics. 
 
 " The true secret of using language well, is to use it from a 
 full mind." And it is because the mind cannot constantly 
 overflow, nor the feelings kindle by mere volition, that the 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LITERATURE. 197 
 
 professed author labors to so little effect. He, on the other 
 hand, whose ideas or emotions drive him to literature as a 
 relief, infuses the interest by which he is inspired into his 
 composition. To him it is no task, but a pleasure ; and his 
 readers will find their sympathies awakened, and their thoughts 
 aroused by the very sincerity of the appeal. Burns used to 
 leave the fields for his cottage, to transcribe the effusion with 
 which his fancy was teeming, and Elia wrote his quaint sketches 
 after a long day s toil at the India House. Hence, were there 
 less professional authorship, what writings came to us at all, 
 would come fresh and vigorous from an earnest spirit. They 
 would be the legitimate offspring of a human soul, authentic 
 chronicles of individual experience. They would be alive, and 
 would live like the Pilgrim s Progress, Boswell s Johnson, or 
 King Lear. 
 
 Literature is but the record of life. Its professors do but 
 chronicle experience. Their function is important, and may be 
 rendered exalted, but its essential dignity is often overrated. 
 The thought finely expressed in writing, and disseminated by 
 the press, has a more imposing aspect than when it falls casually 
 from the lips, or rises quietly in the mind ; but in reality it is 
 the same. As an exclusive form of human development the 
 pursuit of literature often cramps and distorts our nature. Lite 
 rary men, like the frequenters of the gymnasium, generally 
 enlarge and strengthen one power at the expense of the others. 
 It is extremely difficult to preserve the integrity of the soul 
 when all its energies are devoted to so exacting an occupation. 
 The social character is apt to suffer as life becomes concentrated 
 in mental labor. The process of thinking often becomes a 
 merely selfish exercise. Sympathy is not unfrequently trans 
 ferred to abstract objects. The real world of suffering and duty 
 
198 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 is deserted for one that only exists in an individual s conscious 
 ness. The lesser ministries of affection, the minor obligations 
 of humanity, the frank amenities of fellowship are, as it were, 
 absorbed in the solicitous workings of the intellect. To the 
 noblest spirits, literature has been rather a necessary resource 
 than a voluntary pursuit. Physical infirmity, or moral suffering, 
 have driven them from the post of active duty and the sacred 
 privacy of affectionate retirement, to the struggles of authorship. 
 Sometimes, in these cases, we seem to behold the visible agency 
 of Providence. Dante wrote his poem to cheer his exile and 
 punish his persecutors. Milton s blindness opened to his spirit 
 the garden of Eden and the " palace of Eternity." Scott com 
 posed his marvellous fictions to improve his .estate ; and a 
 childhood of pain prepared him for the work, and gave his 
 young mind the leisure to expatiate in the regions of romance. 
 We cannot but regard reverently such instances of the influence 
 of circumstances upon the career of genius. To such men the 
 profession of literature seems to have been ordained. Their 
 examples, however, cannot be cited in favor of the adoption of a 
 literary life on the part of those whose destiny and endowments 
 are wholly different. To such the question is offered for delibe 
 rate decision, not previously settled by a power beyond their 
 control. They should consider how important it is to preserve 
 some part of their experience free from the desolation of custom, 
 and how available is literature to this end. Let books be to 
 them as the pleasant faces of companions, and not the symbols 
 of toil. Let the pen be as. a wing to lift them occasionally 
 from the earth, not the token of wearisome and hackneyed 
 drudgery. Let the intelligent youth learn to look upon his 
 library as a sweet retirement from common employment ; and 
 the gifted woman be satisfied to make her intellectual accom- 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LITERATURE. 199 
 
 plishments a blessing to her household. They will not thus 
 
 y 
 
 be lost, but impressed on the hearts of her children, and be 
 published to society in their words and deeds. 
 
 Talleyrand said a man was a fool to publish a book, because 
 it reveals the extent of his knowledge. Without denying the 
 cold worldly wisdom of such a notion, or its utter inapplicability 
 to genius, does it not convey a noble suggestion ? Shall we 
 not reserve somewhat of our reflective experience ? Are there 
 no sacred ideas, no special fancies which the common air would 
 profane ? A degree of mental privacy is essential to self-respect. 
 Yet one of the latent inducements to literary effort is doubtless 
 that craving for sympathy which belongs to elevated and ardent . 
 minds. " Many things," says Montaigne, " which I would not 
 confess to any one in particular, I deliver to the public." Few 
 authors, however, estimated the profession of literature more 
 justly than this ingenious essayist. " Have you known," he 
 asks, " how to meditate and manage your life ? Have you 
 known how to compose your manners ? You have done a 
 great deal more than he who has composed books." Gifted 
 men have invariably protested against the exclusive reputation 
 which the public attaches to letters. They have felt themselves 
 creatures of " infinite variety," and shrunk from the " golden 
 sorrow" of such fame. Scott was determined that authorship 
 should be his " staff, not his crutch," and sturdily acted out the 
 principle. Gray and Congreve disliked the imputation of being 
 mere men of letters, perhaps not so much from a wider ambition, 
 as from a natural feeling that life was greater than its records, 
 the man than the author. To this idea may in part be traced 
 Byron s pride in swimming, Tasso s sword-practice, and Alfieri s 
 horsemanship. The testimony of Charles Lamb to the evils of 
 professional literary toil, is not less true than impressive. " Tis 
 
200 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 a pretty appendage," he remarks, in a letter to Bernard Barton, 
 " to a situation like yours or mine ; but slavery worse than all 
 slavery, to be a bookseller s dependent ; to drudge your brains 
 for pots of ale and breasts of mutton, to change your free 
 thoughts and voluntary numbers for ungracious task-work." 
 
 Even Shakspeare abhorred the constant infringement of the 
 soul s privacy implied in a career which appeals only to the 
 multitude : 
 
 " Oh, for my sake do you with fortune chide, 
 
 The guilty goddess of my harmless deeds, 
 That did not better for my life provide, 
 
 Than public means which public custom breeds." 
 
 But it is chiefly with regard to the individual that this view 
 of literature demands attention. As a means of acquiring dis 
 tinction, literary pursuits are, indeed, fast losing their attraction. 
 It has been well said, that not to have written a book is now 
 something to boast of ; and it seems to be generally thought 
 that " the best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence." Tt 
 is a very serious question whether a profession so trying to the 
 health and exhausting to the mind as that of writing should be 
 adopted ; and unhappily it is an inquiry that usually suggests 
 itself too late to receive a practical negative. Scott is con 
 fessedly the grand exception, the one whole and unmarred 
 instance of literary manhood. Even his success was disastrously 
 eclipsed. He wept to find his " occupation gone," and recorded 
 his testimony that social privileges formed his greatest obliga 
 tion to literature, and that his own nature panted for a less 
 exclusive and more active development. Rare mental gifts 
 and an extraordinary power of fixing the public attention, may 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LITERATURE. 201 
 
 afford sufficient inducements to any man to devote himself to 
 literature. But even in this case, if he has no elevating views 
 to diffuse, no grand truth to advocate, no important principle to 
 unfold, his career must prove essentially selfish. Its absolute 
 utility may well be doubted. At all events there is nothing 
 very exalted in personal sacrifices, the object of which is only to 
 win fame, or make money. A writer of genius who, like 
 Milton, enters on an intellectual crusade under the banner of 
 liberty, is indeed worthy of the most profound reverence. 
 
 The martyr to scientific research, the undaunted defender of 
 a great idea, suffer to some purpose, and are entitled to honor. 
 But souls of a more subdued temper are often warped by a life 
 exclusively given to literature. The " daily beauty" of private 
 life, the silent influence of secluded character, fidelity to domes 
 tic claims, are not to be lightly invaded. There is a way of 
 doing good in the world, on a small scale, that is scarcely 
 appreciated. A man who educates one child faithfully, may 
 effect a work of greater benevolence than one who has won the 
 name of philanthropist. The love concentred on a family may 
 produce richer fruits than that which embraces the world. Its 
 action is more intense and invisible, but its results may go 
 abroad and leaven the whole mass of a community. And so in 
 intellectual culture, a well-timed conversation, a good letter, 
 a general taste in the arrangements and employment of time, 
 may be more efficient than the life-devotion of the same capa 
 bilities to literary effort. When no momentous end is proposed 
 and no remarkable genius enlisted, let the cost of such a course 
 be calmly weighed. Let D Israeli s " Calamities of Authors" be 
 attentively perused. It is true, a revolution has taken place in 
 the destiny of authors since that heart-rending chronicle was 
 compiled ; but human nature has not changed. It is still pain- 
 
 9* 
 
202 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 ful to a susceptible mind, to receive the shafts of malevolent 
 criticism, or the fulsome praises of undiscriminating friends. It 
 is still wearisome to a modest spirit to live in the eye of the 
 public. The brain is the same delicate organ as it was in the 
 days of Collins and Chatterton. Egotism is still as naturally 
 the offspring of constant self-communion, and an unhealthy 
 self-consciousness as readily induced by long and loving dalli 
 ance with one s own ideas. Literary disappointment is as 
 liable to produce malignant criticism as in the time of Dennis, 
 and literary success has diseased the organ of self-esteem as 
 frequently in our day, as when poor Goldsmith wondered at the 
 crowd for finding more attraction in a mountebank than a poet. 
 The grave of Smollet at Leghorn is yet a landmark to those 
 who would live upon popular favor ; and the slab of Keats at 
 Rome breathes a touching lesson to the young and susceptible 
 aspirant for literary renown. " The glorious privilege of being 
 independent," continues to be exposed to imminent hazard by 
 the profession of literature. It is true the days of courtly 
 patronage and mercenary dedication are well nigh passed, but 
 public opinion is a more severe master than any king, and the 
 " fawning" for that " thrift" is equally degrading. We have 
 now no Charles II. to blight the hopes of a Cowley, on account 
 of a republican ode, but we have instead a thousand prejudices 
 which a writer must flatter, or forfeit success, and a trivial 
 standard of taste, conformity to which is a Procrustean bed to 
 a manly intellect. We have no Inquisition to threaten a 
 Galileo with the torture for declaring a truth, but we have 
 innumerable worshippers of authority, who hawk at the free 
 soul when it rises on too bold a wing, and would fain alarm it 
 from the empyrean of original inquiry. 
 
 Flavius was praised by his tutors as a promising writer, and, 
 
THE PROFESSION OF LITERATURE. 203 
 
 when quite young, published a work which was very generally 
 commended. Its merit consisted, however, more in the indus 
 trious research and tact it exhibited, than in novelty of senti 
 ment, or uncommon beauty of style. Its success determined 
 Flavius to abandon a lucrative employment, for a path to which 
 literary ambition allured him. To that passion he at once 
 surrendered his souL He was then in early manhood, enjoying 
 robust health, and a slight acquaintance revealed many half- 
 developed qualities, full of promise to himself and society. His 
 talents as a writer were only very respectable, his habits those 
 of intense application. He trusted in the power of industry to 
 realize the fruits of rare abilities. There was nothing in his 
 native endowments to warrant the hope that by devotion to 
 literature he could greatly advance any important principle, or 
 lead the way to new truth. Yet he commenced the profession 
 of literature with the ardor of a votary, and the confidence of a 
 genius. It gradually not only employed, but absorbed his 
 energies. The mania of writing took complete possession of 
 the whole man. His day was passed in printing-offices, reviews 
 haunted his slumbers, scraps of verse dropped insensibly from 
 his lips. Every person and thing in life became valuable in 
 his eyes only so far as it ministered to his profession. He 
 pounced upon a man of experience as a repository of facts ; he 
 drew upon the reminiscences of old ladies for hints wherefrom 
 to construct a tale ; he cultivated the friendship of booksellers 
 for their publications, of authors for their countenance, of editors 
 for their puffs. Even nature, to whose cheerful freedom most 
 men turn for pure enjoyment, was to him a scene of care. He 
 walked amid the fairest landscape in a mood abstracted by 
 ambitious reveries, or peered about to discover a new metaphor 
 in some familiar phenomenon, or gather the materials of a fine 
 
204 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 description. To female society he resorted not so much for 
 refreshment and delight, as to kindle a flame of sentiment, in 
 the warmth of which he could strike off some glowing thoughts 
 or new images. Thus all his life was laid under contribution 
 for ideas, and like an intellectual tax-gatherer, Flavius roamed 
 to collect tithes of thought and contributions of wit. These 
 were fused in the crucible of his fevered mind, and appeared in 
 the form of critical essays, sketches, rhymes, and paragraphs. 
 He soon became notorious, and mistook publicity for glory. 
 For this he neglected his meals and his person, acquired habits 
 of selfish reserve, resigned the grace of manner and the charm 
 of friendship. For this he wandered among his kind, ever 
 wrapt in the solitude of reflection. For this he resigned the 
 happiness and improvement of social intercourse. For this 
 sleep fled from his pillow, and buoyancy from his heart. For 
 this he sacrificed mental freedom, cheerfulness, and health. 
 Inordinate ambition, irregular habits of diet and exercise, and 
 an unremitted activity of the brain, soon demolished even the 
 strong constitution of Flavius. He died a victim to literature, 
 in whose annals his name will scarcely appear. To the last 
 moment he grasped his pen, and his death-bed was littered 
 with magazines, unconnected proofs, and scraps of manuscript. 
 The illusion of his life was an erroneous estimate of the import 
 ance of literary labor, and of his own capacity in that sphere. 
 As an occasional means of usefulness, a liberal accomplishment, 
 a refined recreation, literature would have proved a blessing ; 
 instead of appropriating for an inadequate end all the vigor and 
 freshness of his being, and consigning him to an early grave. 
 
205 
 
 HAIR. 
 
 There seems a life in hair though it be dead. 
 
 LEIGH HUNT. 
 
 HAIR is an eloquent emblem. It is the mother s pride to 
 dress her child s rich locks ; the lover s joy to gaze on the hair- 
 locket of his mistress ; the mourner s despair to see the ringlet 
 stir, as if in mockery of death, by the marble cheek of the 
 departed. How the hue of hair is hallowed to the fancy ! From 
 the " glossy raven " to the " silver sable," from the " brown in 
 the shadow, and gold in the sun," to the blonde and silken 
 thread, there is a vocabulary of hues appealing to each 
 memory. 
 
 The beautiful economy of nature is signally displayed in the 
 human hair. The most simple expedient in the animal frame, 
 the meanest adjunct, as it were, to the figure, yet how effective ! 
 
 " Hyacinthine locks 
 
 Round from his parted forelock manly hung 
 Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad : 
 
 She, as a veil, down to the slender waist, 
 Her unadorned tresses wore, 
 Dishevelled, but in wanton ringlets waved, 
 As the vine curls her tendrils, which implies 
 Subjection, but required with gentle sway, 
 And by her yielded, by him best received, 
 Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, 
 And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay." 
 
$06 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 In this passage, the blind bard of Paradise has interpreted 
 the natural language of woman s hair before the artifices of 
 fashion had marred its natural grace. Whoever has attentively 
 perused one of the pictures of the old masters, where a female 
 figure is represented, must have perceived, perhaps unconsciously, 
 that the long flexible ringlets conveyed an impression to the 
 mind of dependence. The short, tight curls of a gladiatorial 
 statue, on the contrary, give the idea of self-command and 
 unyielding will. There is a poetical charm in the unshorn 
 tresses of a beautiful woman, which Milton has not exaggerated. 
 I have seldom received a more sad conviction of the bitterness 
 of poverty, than was conveyed by the story of a lovely girl in 
 one of the continental towns, who was obliged to sell her hair 
 for bread. She was of humble parentage, but nature had 
 adorned her head with the rarest perfection. Her luxuriant and 
 glowing ringlets constituted the pride of her heart. She 
 rejoiced in this distinction as the redeeming point of her destiny. 
 Often would a blush of pleasure suffuse her cheek as she caught 
 a stranger s eye regarding them with admiration, when at her 
 lowly toil. The homeliness of her garb, and the poverty of her 
 condition, were relieved by this native adornment. It is won 
 derful to what slight tokens the self-respect of poor mortals will 
 cling, and how the very maintenance of virtue often depends 
 upon some frail association. A strain of music, glimpses of a 
 remembered countenance, a dream, a word, will often annihilate 
 a vile intention, or unseal the fountain of the heart. A palm 
 tree in England drew tears from an Eastern wanderer ; and the 
 native wisdom of Jeanie Deans led her to make her first visit to 
 the Duke of Argyle, arrayed in a plaid, knowing his honor s 
 heart " would warm to the tartan." And thus to the simple- 
 hearted maiden her rich and flowing hair was a crown of glory 
 
HAIR. 207 
 
 the only circumstance that elevated her in her own estimation. 
 And when the iron necessity of want came upon her, and she 
 was a homeless orphan when everything had been parted with, 
 and all appeals to compassion had failed, the spirit of the poor 
 creature yielded to hunger, and she sold her hair. Before this 
 sacrifice, she had resisted, with the heroism of innocence, the 
 temptation to purchase food at the expense of honor. But 
 when the wants of nature were appeased, and she went forth 
 shorn of her cherished ornament, the consciousness of her loss 
 induced despair, and she resigned herself hopelessly to a career 
 of infamy. 
 
 Abundant hair is said to be indicative of strength, and fine 
 hair, of susceptibility. In the hair are written the stern lessons 
 of life. It falls away from the head of sickness, and the brows 
 of the thoughtful. The bright lot of childhood is traced in its 
 golden threads, the free buoyancy of youth is indicated by its 
 wild luxuriance ; the throe of anguish, the touch of age, entwine 
 it with a silver tissue ; and intensity of spirit will there antici 
 pate the snows of time. The hair of Columbus was white at 
 thirty ; and before that period, Shelley s dark waving curls were 
 dashed with snow. In the account of the execution of the 
 unfortunate Mary, the last touch of pathos is given to the scene 
 when it is stated that as the executioner held up the severed 
 head, it was perceived that the auburn locks were thickly 
 strewn with grey. 
 
 Associations of sentiment attach strongly to the hair. Around 
 it is wreathed the laurel garland of fame. Amid it tremble the 
 flowers of a bridal. Putting up the hair is the signal of woman 
 hood. The Andalusian women always wear roses in their glossy 
 black hair. The barbarous practice of scalping, doubtless origi 
 nated in a savage idea of desecrating the temple of the soul, as 
 
208 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 well as of gathering trophies of victory. The head is shaven by 
 the monks in token of humility, and the stationary civilization 
 of the Chinese is indicated by no custom more strikingly than 
 that of wearing only a single queue, the very acme of the unpic- 
 turesque. There were few more characteristic indications of a 
 highly artificial state of society than the absurd style of dressing 
 the head once so fashionable. Even at the present day, no part 
 of female costume betrays individual taste more clearly than the 
 style in which the hair is worn. To tear the hair is a true 
 expression of despair, and the patriarchal ceremony of scattering 
 ashes on the head, was the deepest sign of sorrow. How much 
 the desolate grandeur of the scene on the heath, in Lear, is 
 augmented by his " white flakes" that " challenge pity," and 
 what a picture we have of Bassanio s love, when he says 
 
 " Her sunny locks 
 
 Hang on her temples like a golden fleece, 
 Which makes her seat at Belmont, Colchos strand, 
 And many Jasons come in quest of her." 
 
 The women at the siege of Messina wrought their hair into 
 bow-strings for the archers, and on a similar occasion in the 
 Spanish wars, the females of a small garrison bound their hair 
 under the chin, to appear like beard, and arranging themselves 
 on the ramparts, induced the enemy to surrender. 
 
 Sampson s hair was singularly associated with his misfortunes, 
 and the abundant locks of Absalom wrought the downfall of 
 his pride. It is often a net to entrap the affections. The hair 
 speaks to the heart. Laura s flying tresses haunted Petrarch s 
 fancy : 
 
 " Qual Ninf a in fonti, in selve, mai qual Dea 
 Chiome d oro si fino a Paura sciolse ?" 
 
HAIR. 209 
 
 That the hair may figure to advantage in literature, the 
 "Rape of the Lock" is an immortal proof. The Puritans 
 cut it short, and the Cavaliers wore it luxuriantly. Human 
 vanity displays itself nowhere more conspicuously than in the 
 arrangement of the hair. When Benedict enumerates the 
 qualifications required in a wife, he says in conclusion " her 
 hair shall be of what color it please God ;" alluding to the 
 common custom of dyeing the hair. Bassanio, when moralizing 
 on the caskets, utters a satire upon false hair : 
 
 " So are those crisped, snaky, golden locks, 
 Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, 
 Upon supposed fairness, often known 
 To be the dowry of a second head, 
 The scull that bred them in the sepulchre." 
 
 Among the beautiful touches, alike true to nature and poetry, 
 in Talfourd s Ion, is the language of the dying Adrastus to his 
 newly-discovered son : 
 
 " J am growing weak, 
 And my eyes dazzle ; let me rest my hands 
 Ere they have lost their feeling, on thy head, 
 Lo ! Lo ! thy hair is glossy to the touch, 
 As when I last en wreathed its tiny curl 
 About my finger." 
 
 It is the surviving memorial of our physical existence : 
 
 " It is the gentlest, yet the strongest thread 
 Of our frail plant a blossom from the tree, 
 Surviving the proud trunk ; as if it said, 
 Patience and gentleness is power. In me 
 Behold affectionate eternity." 
 
 D Israeli paints Contarini Fleming, the creature of passioo, 
 
210 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 after his wife s death, as clipping off her long tresses, twining 
 them about his neck, and springing from a precipice. Miss 
 Porter makes Helen Mar embroider into the banner of Wallace, 
 the ensanguined hair of his murdered Marion. Goldsmith s 
 coffin was opened to obtain some of his hair for a fair admirer, 
 and there is a striking anecdote of a man who was prevented 
 from declaring love to his friend s betrothed, by recognising on 
 the hand he had clasped, a ring, containing the hair of his rival. 
 With what a pathetic expressiveness does the " Cenci" conclude : 
 
 Beatrice. " Give yourself no unnecessary pain, 
 
 My dear Lord Cardinal. Here, mother, tie 
 My girdle for me, and bind up my hair 
 In any simple knot ; ay, that does well. 
 And yours, I see, is coming down. How often 
 Have we done this for one another! and now 
 We shall not do it any more. My hood ! 
 We are quite ready. Well, tis very well." 
 
 The dialogue between King John and Constance is very signi 
 ficant : 
 
 King Philip. " Bind up those tresses. Oh, what love I note 
 In the fair multitude of those her hairs ! 
 Where, but by chance, a silver dross hath fallen, 
 Even to that dross ten thousand wiry friends 
 Do glue themselves in sociable grief ; 
 Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, 
 Sticking together in calamity." 
 
 Constance. " To England if you will." 
 
 King Philip. " Bind up your hairs." 
 
 Constance. " Yes, that I will and wherefore will I do it 1 
 I tore them from their bonds ; and cried aloud, 
 
HAIR. 211 
 
 Oh, that these hands could so redeem my son, 
 As they have given these hairs their liberty ! 
 But now I envy at their liberty, 
 And will again commit them to their bonds, 
 Because my poor child is a prisoner." 
 
212 
 
 A PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURATION. 
 
 It seems to me 
 
 As if in this poor picture there were still 
 
 Something not wholly so contemptible ; 
 
 Not color only no nor finishing, 
 
 Nor play of night and shade, but something, too, 
 
 Of solemn and sublime I 
 
 OEHLENSCHLAGER. 
 
 AFTER more than a week s disappearance, the sun broke forth 
 on the fourth of March. It was the Sabbath, and the ceremo 
 nies that usher in a new president had been deferred until the 
 following morning. By many the cheering alteration in the 
 weather was hailed as a felicitous augury ; and not a few hearts 
 responded to the chapter of the day, among the crowded 
 audience that engaged in the religious services at St. John s : 
 " For thou shalt prevent him with the blessings of goodness ; 
 and shalt set a crown of pure gold upon his head. And why ? 
 because the king putteth his trust in the Lord; and in the 
 mercy of the Most High he shall not miscarry." 
 
 Some poet has declared that " change is the life of nature ;" 
 one would imagine it was also essential to the vitality of 
 republics. If there be, as the advocates of free institutions 
 maintain, no position more enviable than that of the elected 
 head of a great nation, there is none which less justifies elation 
 of feeling. The tenure is limited, and its enduring distinction 
 only results from personal fidelity. To be " clear in this great 
 office " is the test of its glory. The constitution prohibits a 
 long sway ; the contests of party give rise to inevitable 
 
A PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURATION. 213 
 
 difficulties, and the responsibility of the station, when sincerely 
 felt, checks the exultation of success. The momentous principles 
 at issue throughout the world and involved in the grand 
 experiment of popular rule, of which this country is the arena, 
 render the administration of its government more widely 
 influential than that of any dynasty on earth; and this 
 consideration, added to the intrinsic bearing of the course 
 pursued on the honor and welfare of her people, is enough to 
 solemnize the advent of a new executive and cabinet. 
 
 Washington cannot be termed a " Mecca of the mind," as 
 Halleck calls the grave of Burns ; but at every transition epoch 
 in our annals, it is the goal of innumerable pilgrims. They 
 come from all quarters of the continent, inspired by varied 
 motives, those of selfish aggrandizement, liberal curiosity, 
 patriotic sentiment, the magnetism of fashion, and the hope of 
 enjoyment. A kind of serious carnival ensues ; speculation is 
 rife ; ambition plumes her wings ; policy sharpens its wits ; 
 beauty opens her caskets of jewels ; and the honest pride of 
 citizenship revives. Expectancy vague, yet ardent, is quickened. 
 Opinion finds a response in events ; the past is decently buried ; 
 and over the future hangs the iris of hope evoked from the 
 subsiding tide of faction. The occasion, when justly appreciated, 
 eloquently explains these signs of the times ; and the dispro 
 portion of the scene and the symbols, to an imaginative and 
 thoughtful observer, heightens their moral significance. 
 
 It is a singular fact, that the only city in the United States 
 planned with reference to extensive growth, is the only one 
 which has never reached its anticipated bounds. The broad 
 avenues, scattered and inadequate dwellings, and lonely 
 thoroughfares of Washington, though cheerless to the eye, are 
 suggestive to the imagination. An aspect so incongruous as is 
 
214 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 here presented, the blending of village and metropolis, of 
 splendid equipages and comfortless streets, of vast capabilities 
 and inelegant utility the noble Capitol and the straggling 
 houses, plain citizens grouped around inn doors, public edifices 
 of substantial architecture and a frame building erected for a 
 national ball all indicate the unfulfilled destinies, the utilitarian 
 instincts, and at the same time the boundless promise of the 
 republic. All that meets the gaze in Washington, except the 
 Capitol and the Departments, seems temporary. The city 
 appears like the site of an encampment as if it were adapted 
 more for a bivouack than a home. Stone ramparts and grated 
 palaces immediately announce to the traveller abroad, an ancient 
 seat of power ; here everything whispers of " brief authority," 
 and proclaims that the officials of every grade are, for the time 
 being, only servants of the people. 
 
 Some fine copies of Claude gave a mellow warmth to the 
 parlor of the friend with whom I sojourned ; and the bare walls 
 of the East Room of the Presidential mansion looked more deso 
 late from the contrast. They should be adorned with national 
 pictures. With such painters as we now boast, this would be 
 an object of easy achievement. It is to be regretted that 
 Washington was ever incorporated as a municipal town ; as the 
 property of the country it might have been filled with hand 
 some residences for ambassadors, heads of departments, and 
 other officials, at the expense of government ; and it would thus 
 have become a compact and picturesque metropolis. As it is, 
 the houses tremble from roof to cellar beneath the gay steps of 
 the dancers ; we emerge from lighted rooms glowing with 
 " fair women and brave men," into mud and darkness ; hacks 
 are indispensable, and a clean promenade a rare luxury. It is 
 one of the striking peculiarities of America, that her capital, 
 
A PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURATION. 215 
 
 which, in every other land, is the centre of refinement and 
 external luxury, is the least significant, of all her cities, of the 
 state of civilization. Yet, here are gathered the trophies of 
 mechanical skill; here are breathed the noblest strains of 
 eloquence ; here originate the laws ; and here annually congre 
 gate the wisdom and beauty of the land. To an ardent 
 republican, however, all this betokens the triumph of his favor 
 ite principles. He will regard it as a proof that the interests 
 of office are secondary to those of general prosperity, and that 
 its agents and locality are not suffered to absorb the benefits 
 designed for the whole people. 
 
 In the National Institution, like nearly all of our scientific 
 and literary establishments, as yet in embryo, sea quadrupeds 
 from the Arctic Zone, birds of rare plumage, the coat in which 
 Jackson fought at New Orleans, the rifle of an Indian chief, 
 plants, fossils, shells and corals, mummies, trophies, busts and 
 relics, typify inadequately natural science and bold adventure. 
 Cruikshank might discover new hints for ungraceful attitudes 
 in a hall consecrated by the triumphs of rhetoric ; and refined 
 minds learn to hate anew the coarseness and bigotry of parti 
 sans, and philosophers the narrowness of a statesmanship 
 acquired in the practice of venal casuistry where the most 
 generous and profound reasoning has often thrown new light 
 on questions of vital importance to humanity. The foundation 
 of the long-delayed monument to him of whom it has been so 
 admirably said, that " providence had made him childless that 
 his country might call him father ;" the slowly-rising walls of 
 the Smithsonian Institute, the vacant panels of the Rotunda, 
 the sculptured deformities on the eastern front of the Capitol, 
 and the very coin, freshly minted from California gold 
 awaken that painful sense of the incomplete, or that almost 
 
216 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 perplexing consciousness of the new, the progressive, and the 
 unattained, which is peculiar to our country. 
 
 It is indeed wonderful to contrast our immense territory with 
 the seat of government, and with the ceremonial and magnifi 
 cence of the most petty court in Europe fresh in the memory, 
 to note the simplicity of our political arrangements. The 
 richly caparisoned steeds and gaudy footmen, the splendid 
 uniform of the soldiery, the * line of thronged antechambers, 
 the formal announcements and prescribed costume that render 
 those scenes memorable to a transatlantic spectator, are all 
 wanting here. When we reflect upon the idea in the abstract, 
 there is a sublimity in this apparant superiority to external 
 blandishments as emblems of authority. Patriotism, thus 
 recognised, is like religion when cherished as a sentiment. The 
 feeling seems adequate to its own realization, independent of 
 form, as if the essential greatness of free institutions obviated 
 the necessity for any outward demonstration of rule. It is a 
 lesson both for the conservative and the radical of the old 
 world, to witness such a scene as was presented at the ex-Presi 
 dent s final levee. Let us remember that, in three days, the 
 highest office in the gift of the people is to be resigned ; that 
 the lady who, with such dignified urbanity, receives the saluta 
 tions of the throng, is dispensing her graceful hospitalities for 
 the last time ; that hundreds of hearts, in that vast assembly, are 
 thirsting for the emoluments and distinctions of office ; and 
 then contemplate the order, propriety, self-respect, and good 
 feeling with which greetings are exchanged ! Observe, too, the 
 " infinite variety" of classes, dress, manners, and character, and 
 where else, on the face of the earth, could such elements be 
 brought together without an array of physical force to subdue 
 and regulate them ? Yet group follows group, the heiress in 
 
A PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURATION. 217 
 
 hsr silks and diamonds, hard pressed by the servant-maid in 
 calico, the snowy cap of an old Quaker lady brushed by the 
 gold epaulette of a naval hero, and the cold but well-defined 
 profile of one of the Boston aristocracy relieved against the 
 bronzed cheek of a gigantic Chippewa ! The attenuated and 
 keen, yet genial physiognomy of the editor of the Union is in 
 juxtaposition with the ear of one of his talented opponents, 
 whose smile proves that their intercourse is jocose. The unsuc 
 cessful candidate for the occupancy of this very dwelling is 
 laughing with a member of the triumphant party; a half- 
 civilized Texian is in conclave with the accomplished New 
 England Speaker ; the high brow of a judge of the Supreme 
 Court is benignly turned upon the sparkling face of a little 
 country belle ; and one of the wounded colonels of Monterey is 
 detailing the fight to a pale but intent artist. Here comes the 
 eloquent defender of the Constitution, of whom Carlyle said 
 that he was the only man whose appearance ever realized to 
 him the idea of a great statesman. Calhoun, with his mass of 
 iron-grey hair and his nervous figure, is shaking hands with 
 Duff Green, their two heads, in the light of the chandelier, 
 reminding us of Salvator s conspiracy of Catiline. There stands 
 the venerable Mrs. Madison, like one of Stuart s ladies reanimated 
 from the canvas. To be appreciated, however, she should be 
 seen in her own apartment, where the portraits of the departed 
 presidents, the scanty and plain furniture, and the wood-fire 
 harmonize with the associations of other days. Farmers with 
 huge paws, sailors with a rolling gait, the sleek adventurer, the 
 bar-room politician, the mercurial southern representative, the 
 calm and portly senator, the eager office-seeker and the philoso 
 phic idler ; faces lowering with vulgar obtuseness, or kindled by 
 cultivated sympathies, heads massive with thought, or oscillating 
 
 10 
 
218 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 with vanity, make up a human panorama which no limner can 
 adequately reflect. And if we seek to define the motley social 
 characteristics, imagination is equally baffled ; for, although 
 political aspirations and fraternity, and " the insolence of office" 
 form the basis, the variety of talent and disposition thus asso 
 ciated, necessarily create an accessible, frank, and universal tone, 
 which renders society here more free of conventional drawbacks, 
 and more inciting to vivacious intercourse than can be found 
 elsewhere in the land. 
 
 How recent, too, are all memories compared with those which 
 haunt the pilgrim at other shrines ! A morning s walk may 
 bring him to the spot where the gallant Decatur fell ; he may 
 think of the British invasion on the shores of the Potomac,, or 
 give a day to a visit to Mount Vernon, where the ashes of the 
 stainless chief repose. The convent at Georgetown may possi 
 bly awaken an affecting reminiscence, and Pennsylvania Avenue 
 recal the characteristic anecdote of John Randolph, when he said 
 to an acquaintance who there overtook him, and complained 
 that it was difficult to keep up with him " Sir, I will increase 
 that difficulty" striding on at a quickened pace. The Con 
 gressional burying-ground has cherished memorials ; and be 
 neath yonder lofty dome, within a few months, a venerable 
 statesman died the death of Chatham. The oratory of Pinkney, 
 Wirt, Clay, and a host of others, hallows the scene ; but, with 
 singular pertinacity, it ever breathes of the immediate, winch 
 De Tocqueville truly says is the natural language of Democracy. 
 Yet how impressive, at certain exigencies, is that language ! 
 Now that scarcely a country of Europe owns genuine tranquil 
 lity, when every popular movement is fraught with terror, and 
 propriety and domestic life seem at the mercy of revolutionary 
 excitement, there arrives here a family from the extreme South, 
 
A PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURATION. 219 
 
 in manners, dress, and appearance, in no degree superior to the 
 mass, unpretending, simple, kindly without any escort but 
 that t>f friends and citizens, receiving homage in the limited 
 apartments of a hotel, and called from their distant farm by 
 the popular suffrage. Now and then a crowd in the entries, or 
 a shout in the street, the attendance of a committee, or the 
 flight of a rocket, the display of the national banner, or a knot 
 of earnest talkers, may betray the occurrence of something more 
 than common. Otherwise the stranger would perceive no ink 
 ling of a political advent. The usual avocations of life go on 
 without interruption. Not an element of society is disturbed. 
 Anxiety, doubt, exultation, are equally subdued ; and, though 
 under this apparent quietude we know there is heaving a deep 
 tide of individual ambition, curiosity, joy, and disappointment, 
 the surface is almost unruffled. One accustomed to the etiquette 
 and parade by which less secure authority is retained and trans 
 mitted, and, at the same time, cognisant of the alternations thus 
 unostentatiously realized, must view the circumstances with 
 incredulous wonder. 
 
 I was seated in the public room awaiting a friend upon whom. 
 I had made a morning call, when an honest-looking man with 
 grey hair, in a suit of blue a little worn and unfashionably cut, 
 walked in with four companions. The latter placed themselves 
 respectfully about him, and one, with a parchment scroll in his 
 hand, in emphatic, yet courteous terms, and with a graceful 
 elocution, announced to him his election to the chief magistracy 
 of the Union, spoke of the hard-fought battles which had 
 endeared him to his country, the confidence thus awakened in 
 the people, and the freedom and discrimination of their choice. 
 The old man listened with downcast eyes, a thoughtful and 
 self-possessed mien, and when the address ended and the certi- 
 
220 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 ficate was received, read his answer in a tremulous but clear 
 voice, and with a hesitancy indicating how little he was accus 
 tomed to express his sentiments in words. He spoke 6f the 
 greatness of the honor conferred, of his deep sense of inadequacy, 
 his solemn determination to be faithful to the duties of the office, 
 to the requisitions of the constitution, and the example of 
 Washington. The ceremony over, he interchanged a few 
 natural observations with those around, returned the cordial 
 grasp of such as were introduced, and then retired with the 
 avowed intention of visiting the present incumbent, whom, in 
 a few days, he was to supersede. In the course of three years 
 this man had become known to the world by the integrity and 
 valor displayed in a war declared by the government he served, 
 and, if report does not err, undertaken against his own convic 
 tions and sympathies. His troops manifested somewhat the 
 feeling towards him which Frederic of Prussia inspired. With 
 the trust and the gratitude naturally inspired by his services, 
 the nation elected him President of the United States ; and he 
 had at the appointed time come to the Capitol to be inducted 
 into office. Such is the explanation of all these informal phe 
 nomena ; thus simple is it possible for the mechanism of govern 
 ment to be I 
 
 For one inclined to carp at the inefficiency of details and the 
 unimpressive in outward feature, the Inauguration was a scene 
 prolific in material for humorous complaint ; but viewed by the 
 eye of reflection, it abounded in the moral sublime. There is 
 no modern public structure with a site so commanding as that 
 of the American Capitol, if we except the monastery of La 
 Superga at Turin ; and although the panorama visible from the 
 former is meagre in all that relates to grandeur in scenery and 
 art, it is extensive and characteristic. The widely- scattered 
 
A PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURATION. 221 
 
 buildings, the winding Potomac, and the broad fields lost in the 
 distance, reposed beneath a cloudy sky ; but the neutral tints 
 thus yielded, allowed the gaze to wander with freedom and 
 rest undazzled on the prospect. There was something too in the 
 grey atmosphere now and then flecked with snow, that was 
 adapted to the thoughtful mind busy with an occasion that 
 suggested grave as well as happy ideas. Along the steps and 
 alleys of the surrounding grounds, on the esplanade and the 
 balconies, clustered an eager multitude, the bright hues of the 
 female costumes giving a cheerful aspect to the sombre groups 
 that stood in quiet conversation, or roamed to and fro awaiting 
 the procession. At length it was seen coming up the avenue 
 below. A few volunteer corps formed the only escort. As it 
 approached, the crowd gathered densely around the stage erected 
 at the eastern point. The colossal statue of Washington rose 
 in the far background ; and immediately before the spectators 
 was the elegant facade. Scarcely half an hour elapsed, when 
 the judges in their robes, the diplomatic corps in their uniforms, 
 the senators, and numerous officers of the army and navy, 
 appeared ; and on the sofa, at the edge of the platform, were 
 seated the newly elected heads of the republic. The Chief 
 Magistrate looked the impersonation of that large and sterling 
 middle class that form the strength and the credit of the 
 United States ; he was the image of a benign and patriotic 
 country gentleman ; and read the noble pledges of his Inaugu 
 ral with modest self-possession. The oath was then administered 
 and uttered with an air of reverence, and sealed by a kiss upon 
 the very Bible with which Washington was sworn. The Presi 
 dent instantly received the congratulations of the Ex-President and 
 the distinguished personages in his vicinity ; and then advanced 
 and bowed to the vast assembly. Shout after shout rent the 
 
222 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 air ; peal after peal of cannon echoed from trie hill ; the multi 
 tude dispersed on every side without tumult ; and accompanied 
 the carriao-e of their new Executive with cheers. The bands 
 
 O 
 
 played their liveliest airs. Wide to the breeze fluttered the 
 star-spangled banner. Fair hands waved handkerchiefs from 
 every window ; and thus the cavalcade passed on to the White 
 House. There, entrenched behind a slender barricade of chairs, 
 to avoid the pressure of the throng, stood the venerable man, 
 while before him, in an almost endless file, moved the people 
 to welcome him to the home his integrity and valor had won. 
 About a twelvemonth since the Parisian populace broke into 
 the Tuileries ; but they wandered through the gorgeous apart 
 ments with a kind of savage wonder, and to destroy the luxurious 
 insignia of royal authority ; clowns and workmen, the poor and 
 the rude, as well as the gentle and the wealthy, composed the 
 mass that overran the Presidential abode ; yet a sense of mutual 
 relation and individual privilege, subdued to courtesy the most 
 uncultivated. 
 
 Thus direct, unostentatious, and kindly is the popular recog 
 nition of the transit of power, with no intermediate authority to 
 control, no pageantry to beguile, and no exhibition of force to 
 awe the spectators. The reason is obvious all participate in 
 the interests of the occasion ; and each, however humble, may 
 claim a share in the glory. The principles of the constitution 
 chasten all the excitable elements of popular will. The instant 
 the successful candidate is invested with the chief magistracy, 
 partisan weapons are laid aside ; and, as the head of the nation, 
 universal respect is awarded the President. Such are the 
 redeeming features of our political system, and the noble epi 
 sodes in the ceaseless struggle for power that revive hallowed 
 memories and patriotic delight. 
 
A PRESIDENTIAL INAUGURATION. 223 
 
 The Inauguration Ball, as a social demonstration, was an 
 appropriate finale. Between three and four thousand people of 
 both sexes, of every class, from all parts of the land, assembled 
 in an immense saloon erected for the purpose. Members of the 
 diplomatic corps and naval and military officers, by their rich 
 dress, gave variety to the scene. From the stage at the head 
 of the room, the view was magnificent when the President 
 appeared. The mass opened to the right and left to allow him 
 to pass freely ; a sea of heads swayed to and fro ; the band 
 played exhilarating martial airs ; jewels sparkled, murmurs of 
 applause rose and fell, smiles beamed, cheers resounded, and 
 the crowd re-united like a swelling flood, as the unassuming 
 object of all this festivity moved slowly on, with a meek, yet 
 gratified air. When he reached the elevated platform he was 
 received by a group of fair women, and men of noble aspect ; 
 he stood among them in the simple dignity of a faithful citizen 
 soldier. The dance was resumed ; and the eye fell on a vast 
 and brilliant throng, whose courteous hilarity afforded a hopeful 
 presage to every generous heart 
 
224 
 
 THE WEATHER. 
 
 these are counsellors 
 
 That feelingly peisuade me what I am. 
 
 As You LIKE IT. 
 
 I HAVE just parted with one of those insensible beings who 
 profess perfect independence of the weather, a class, one would 
 think, by their manner of treating this popular topic, differently 
 organized from the majority of mankind. It is really provoking 
 to remark the complacency with which they declare that the 
 atmospheric vicissitudes affect them not, that they are too busy 
 to note the course of the wind, and that half the time they know 
 not whether it rains or shines ; as if it were a fit subject for 
 congratulation this unnatural insusceptibility to what human 
 beings should, from their very constitution, consciously feel. 
 Much pleasure do these weather-despisers lose. It is true, they 
 suffer not the throe ; but, be it remembered, they enjoy not the 
 thrill. Welcome are they to their much vaunted indifference to 
 the state of the elements. Better to suffer somewhat, and even 
 fancifully, from the weather, than to be wrapt up in a mantle of 
 unconcern to walk forth regardless of the temperature, and 
 without any more interest in the existent face of the heavens, 
 than if they were changeless and stony, like the mood of such 
 spirits. This independence "argues an insensibility." A 
 hopeful token, in truth, is a just susceptibility to the weather. 
 There is reason in its universality, as a subject of discussion ; 
 there is a real benefit in being alive to its influences. Dr. 
 Johnson indeed, with characteristic hardihood, boasted of his 
 
THE WEATHER. 225 
 
 immunity from " skyey influences ;" but Milton confesses that 
 his poetical vein flowed only between the autumnal and vernal 
 equinox. Thomson declared his muse was most docile in the 
 fall ; and Byron always felt most religiously disposed on a sunny 
 day. Hear the stout Ayrshire ploughman 
 
 " How stan you this blae eastlin wind, 
 That s like to blaw a body blind ? 
 For me my faculties are frozen." 
 
 In Naples, they have a saying, when any literary production 
 is very bad, that it was written during a sirocco. 
 
 The air and sky are a common heritage they greet all the 
 living impartially ; and, while the changes of all things else 
 affect only certain classes and individuals, their variations 
 influence us all. It is well that there is thus a theme of 
 universal sympathy, about which men, as such, can exchange 
 opinions. The weather is essentially a republican subject ; and 
 of all topics, whereby to get over the awkwardness of a first 
 interview, it is decidedly the most convenient. What idea 
 would answer to begin a colloquy with, had we not the weather ? 
 If the elements were as fixed, or as regular in their changes, as 
 the earth, what an available starting point in conversation should 
 we be deprived of ! After being introduced to an individual of 
 whom we know nothing, what could we find to talk about, were 
 this elemental theme not ever-present ? To speak of literature or 
 music, without knowing the taste of our new acquaintance, might 
 prove a damper ; to begin chatting about other people, might 
 betray us into scandalising the kindred of our auditor; but to 
 allude enthusiastically to the beauty of the evening, or sympathe 
 tically to its coldness, would, in all probability, advance us at once 
 far on the pleasant track of sociability. Besides it is altogether so 
 
 10* 
 
226 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 natural and human to talk about the weather to tell how we 
 feel under its prevailing influence and to listen, with profound 
 interest, to the details our companion may give as to its effect 
 on him. In this way we glide, with transcendent ease, into a 
 sympathizing vein ; glimpses of mutual character are incidentally 
 afforded, and then the way to more familiar communion lies 
 clear and open. Let the conceited non-observers of the weather, 
 who are liable to find themselves at a non-plus in conversation, 
 consider the remarkable adaptation of the theme ; and for this, 
 if for no better reason, hasten to excite their lukewarm zeal as 
 amateur meteorologists. 
 
 Weather-wisdom is a consoling acquirement. I have often 
 re-learned the lesson of human equality, in observing the 
 complacency of an honest tar, as he interpreted the signs of the 
 sky to some accomplished veteran in book lore ; the poor 
 sailor, only matriculated by some marine witchery on crossing 
 the line for the first time and who only graduated, after some 
 fierce whaling adventure, from cabin-boy to seaman thenceforth 
 witless of farther degrees expounding to the attentive univer 
 sity-man, a chapter of his knowledge in the ways of the wind, 
 with as much zest as his hearer ever cleared up a puzzling 
 passage in the Georgics to a group of wondering striplings. 
 Such a scene, not seldom witnessed by the voyager, evinces 
 what a comfortable device is weather- wisdom. Admitting it is 
 the illusive thing many deem it, what a pleasant peg it affords 
 some people to hang a little self-sustaining pride upon ! To 
 those who have not wit enough to comprehend the abstract 
 sciences, to those who regard the beauties of literature as 
 mysteries, and who can make nothing of political economy 
 what a ready alternative is weather-wisdom ! It requires little 
 sense to keep a journal of the dates of snow storms, or to talk, 
 
THE WEATHER. 227 
 
 with seeming sagacity, of the prospects of the season. And 
 what a benevolent provision is this of nature s that such as 
 are bereft of more recondite lore, can yet nourish self-respect on 
 their notable attainments in weather-wisdom ! 
 
 But these are only secondary evidences of our obligations to 
 the weather; insensibly do its variations gratify our love of 
 novelty. Every day is new if not from change of circum 
 stances, from change of weather. How tame might not be our 
 feelings, if sameness was a law of the elements! It is no 
 inconsiderable pastime to note, on every successive morning, a 
 new condition of the physical world ; and pitiable, we repeat, is 
 he who finds no refreshment in the shifting scene to whoso 
 eye all aspects of external nature are alike ; then, be assured, 
 some deep grief has overshadowed the soul, or some physical 
 infirmity palsied the sense. 
 
 There is something morbid in those who are insensible to the 
 weather, as well as in such as are nervously alive to its every 
 minute alteration. It is a beautiful indication of humanity to 
 habitually take cognisance of these subtle agencies that surround 
 us to regard them as ministrants intimately associated with 
 human weal. I once stood amid the ruins of an ancient 
 amphitheatre with a man of deep social sympathies ; we spoke 
 of the myriads who once thronged the now silent spot. " We 
 have reason to believe," said he, " that wherever they are, they 
 are together ; what a happy idea, that even a dismal fate may 
 be meliorated by sympathy !" And we that now throng a 
 living temple would it not be an anomaly if we did not 
 sympathize under the operation of universal laws? There is 
 truth to human nature in Hamlet s allusion to the weather, even 
 when awaiting his father s ghost. 
 L Our interest in the weather is not altogether direct. Not 
 
228 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 alone to our individual senses does it appeal. Human hopes 
 sway in every breeze. Destiny sometimes seems dependent 
 upon the elements. How many anxious beings are noting the 
 wayward winds when their loved ones are upon the waters ; how 
 many tearful eyes are directed to the sky when the cherished 
 invalid is exposed to its varying phases ! Property and life, 
 success and love, are too often and too nearly associated with 
 the weather, to permit even the hardy and the stern to boast perfect 
 immunity from its influences. And we wonder not that the ancients 
 deified and invoked the agents of such mighty revolutions. 
 Invisibly, and with a scarcely perceptible increase, the new wind 
 arises; but on its unseen wings float how many human 
 interests ! It bears to the worn and watching tidings of the 
 absent; it wafts to the unthinking breast the seeds of a fell 
 disease; it awakens hymns among the light foliage, and 
 refreshes the care-shadowed brow : odors and music, gladness 
 and grief, life and death, are borne with silence and certainty to 
 their destined ends. And so with the sunshine and the storm, 
 the summer shower and the noontide heat they have voices 
 many and impressive, and fulfil a thousand noiseless and subtle 
 missions with promptitude. 
 
 We are told that at one period in the ancient history of 
 medicine, but two kinds of disease were recognised, resulting 
 from the contracted and relaxed state of the pores. Doubtless 
 this system originated in the observation of the effects of 
 atmospheric changes upon the skin. Some individuals feel the 
 weather chiefly through this medium ; some are made aware of 
 its variations by the sensations they excite in the region of the 
 lungs or stomach ; and to others the temples or thorax are as a 
 perpetual barometer. By the peculiar sensibility of some 
 part of their bodies, all are, in a greater or less degree, 
 
THE WEATHER. 220 
 
 physically susceptible to the weather; and through whatever 
 portal the unbidden guest enters, the nervous sense is soon 
 aware of its presence. And thus, the universal agent, the spirit 
 of the elements, insinuates itself into a higher domain. Our 
 mental moods are, more or less, affected; and when the 
 temperament is poetical, the weather, like all things else r 
 abounds with under-currents of influence and mystic echoes to 
 its common language of which the multitude are scarcely 
 conscious. 
 
 The weather is an impressive time-keeper. To many it is the 
 most regulating of dials. Not only does it serve to mark the 
 flight, but to control the appropriation of time. The dreamy 
 mood, induced by a warm, cloudy day, inclines us to visit ruins. 
 The blitheness excited by a cold, clear morning, suggests a 
 rapid promenade. When the night-wind sighs dismally, our 
 fancies rove through the world of dark romance. A winter 
 twilight makes us realize " how transitory are human flowers ;" 
 and the same season in mid-summer quickens the idea of being 
 into a sense of immortality. All the world over, mild and 
 moonlight evenings are sacred to young love. Old Walton 
 wisely invokes a wet evening for the perusal of his discourse ; 
 
 and, 
 
 " Tis heaven to lounge upon a couch, said Gray, 
 And read new novels through a rainy day." 
 
 The poets from first to last, in things human and scientific, 
 are, after all, the best philosophers. How universally have they 
 taken cognisance of, and chronicled the elements ; and how 
 appropriately adapted them to the circumstances of their heroes 
 and heroines. How feelingly they speak of the weather ! 
 What observant, particular, and sensitive meteorologists are 
 they all ! How graphic is Byron s description of a London 
 
230 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 daybreak, and how sweetly does Mrs. Hemans extol the magic 
 of a sunbeam ! What influential, aye, and metaphysical storms, 
 dog-days, and spring mornings, are those immortalized in the 
 annals of every celebrated bard. In truth, poets seem intuitively 
 weather-wise. 
 
 The weather is eloquently symbolical. It is a perennial 
 fountain of metaphors. The clouds that fly over the star- 
 gemmed sky, typify the exhalations of earth, which, ever and 
 anon, shade the spirit in its pilgrimage. The wreaths of vapor 
 circling on the gentle breeze, and made rosy and radiant by the 
 sun-light, present an apt similitude of the rise, expansion, and 
 glow of the enthusiast s visions. An icy footpath preaches a 
 homily on mortal instability to the pedestrian, and a deep azure 
 sky is a pure symbol of peace to the gifted eye. The moonlight 
 reposing on snow has been fitly made to illustrate memory ; and 
 the dew sparkling in" the sun, is a bright emblem of youth, as its 
 vanishing is of decay ; yet happy the being, whose consciousness 
 is so lost in the blest intensity of the elements within him, as to 
 be unconscious of those around him ; for the glow of human 
 enthusiasm is more beautiful than the flush of the most 
 magnificent sunset. 
 
231 
 
 MANNER. 
 
 Oh form ! 
 
 How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, 
 Wrench awe from fools, and tie.the wisest souls 
 To thy false seeming I 
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 WHEN the fluid particles composing the primeval earth 
 settled into consistent masses, an unbroken, uniform plain was 
 not the result; but everywhere, form, color, and density 
 indicated the various species of matter. Verdure crept over the 
 rich loam, long tables of sand marked the limits of the sea, and 
 rocks of every hue stood forth from the hills. Form of aspect 
 and movement became a law of creation. Even the unstable 
 elements obeyed it. The waters projected themselves into 
 billows, currents, and fountains, and the aeriform waves of the 
 " upper deep " were poured forth in as certain developments. 
 To everything a manner was awarded, by which it was to be 
 recognised, and through which it was to be studied. Another 
 world was then called into being, a universe of thought, 
 sentiment, fancy, and feeling, a human world. And in this, 
 too, external forms were assumed, and manner became a 
 characteristic of mortals. The same law obtains in the spheres 
 of mind and matter ; but how differently displayed ! Since 
 the first song of the stars, the heavens have worn the same 
 successive drapery, the earth has changed not her four familiar 
 robes. The winds have raised the billows into mountains, or 
 dallied with the rose-leaves. In all things has nature been 
 
232 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 variable, yet the same ever presenting a well-known though 
 ever varying feature. She knows not the law of fashion. She 
 is inexpert in artificial diplomacy. But manner, among human 
 beings, is subject to the modifications of time and place ; it can be 
 made subservient to the will. In its very nature, manner is a 
 means, and greatly do those err who make it an end. Yet are 
 there individuals, by whom this adjunctive, secondary, exponent 
 principle is supremely cultivated and mainly relied on. There 
 are those who manage to glide along through the world by a 
 kind of mannered legerdemain, who have acquired their 
 manner in the ancient school of Proteus, and by their singular 
 dexterity in ever imparting the required impression, from 
 moment to moment, fail not in their social objects. There is a 
 species of simmers, who succeed, by virtue of an off-hand manner, 
 which mankind, in general, are content to yield to. The most 
 popular class is, doubtless, that which reduces Chesterfield to 
 practice, on principle, and with veritable punctilio. These 
 devotees lean on a broken reed. Their faith in manner is 
 too perfect. With wonder did I once hear a man of sense 
 console himself for the unprincipled conduct of his son, by 
 declaring that " through all he had kept his manners." When 
 tact at mere verbal rhyming constitutes a poet, musical memory 
 a composer, or taste in colors a painter, then may we believe 
 that manners will make a man, for, 
 
 " Heaven never meant him for a passive thing, 
 That can be struck and hammered out to suit 
 Another s taste and fancy." 
 
 There is a policy in manner. I have heard one not inexpe 
 rienced in the pursuit of fame, give it his earnest support, as 
 being the surest passport to absolute and brilliant success. And 
 
MANNER. 233 
 
 who that has been chained for hours, as by enchantment, with 
 the grace and elegance of an orator, and then, in solitude, 
 reviewed his words, and recalled not a single original and 
 impressive idea, has not realized this ? It is wonderful how a 
 skilful mannerist can deceive the world as to his acquirements 
 and motives. I have at this moment, in my mind s eye, the 
 comely figure of an individual who has attained no undesirable 
 elevation in the world of letters, whose manner is so profound 
 and scholar -like, so redolent of the otium cum diynitate, that it 
 has earned him the cognomen of the learned. A Greek name is 
 inscribed upon his cane, and a Latin adage upon his tongue s 
 end. He yields not to familiar discourse, nor manifests an inte 
 rest in aught save what is classical. In company with scholars, 
 he is silent, seemingly from abstraction ; in the society of the 
 uninitiated, he speaks much, apparently to relieve the exube 
 rance of his acquisitions : the one class attempt not to examine 
 his pretensions, from a horror (natural to high minds) of 
 pedantic display; the other, awe-struck, yield him reverence. 
 
 Now a few years since, ; but I will not betray him. 
 
 Suffice it to say that the first time the magnificence of his man 
 ner is invaded, the commanding frost-work of his reputation will 
 melt in air. We habitually suspect the truthfulness of a promi 
 nent manner. If, in the presence of an individual, he induces 
 us to think continually of his manner and forget himself, we are 
 quickly aware of our want of affinity. There is no delight in 
 his fellowship. Of all forbidding inventions, an assumed manner 
 is the most effectual. We instinctively anticipate the forthcom 
 ing scene behind our backs. Some masterly delineation of the 
 Duke of Gloster in the act of hurling away the prayer book, 
 occurs to us. We are ill at ease ; we seem to hear the laugh 
 and witness the mimicry which is to occur when the door has 
 
234 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 closed upon our exit. We discern beyond the smile and the 
 honeyed word, and are sickened at the self-created hollowness 
 of a human heart. We have admirable provisions in our civil 
 code, for the crimes of perjury and over-reaching. A thrice 
 heavy penalty should fall upon him convicted of deliberately 
 and habitually practising upon mankind, through the agency of 
 a pre-assumed, politic manner. Manner is the universal 
 language, the grand circulating medium j and should not the 
 attempt to counterfeit the genuine, native stamped coin be made 
 penal ? There are no greater forgers in the universe, than 
 cunning mannerists. Their whole lives are false. The loveliest 
 of human attributes, the beautiful, the winning virtue of sincer 
 ity, abides not with them. They have abjured the profession of 
 humanity. They have become players with none of the ideal 
 interest and singleness of purpose which may belong to the 
 legitimate followers of Thespis. The wearisome rehearsals, the 
 guarded conduct, the oppressive sense of having a part to play, 
 the struggles between the real man and the assumed character 
 all press upon and disturb them ; and there are for them no 
 refreshing returns to nature, no blissful interludes in the trying- 
 drama, for habit has bound them to the task, and policy goads 
 them on. 
 
 There is a poignancy in manner. I have often heard a friend 
 describe the effect produced at a well-surrounded dinner-table, 
 by the silence of a gentleman to whom one of the company, in 
 a very audible voice, had addressed an impertinent question. 
 The tacit rebuke was most keenly felt ; it was more effectual than 
 a public reprimand, and yet how entirely devoid of irrational 
 severity. Similar results may be effected through expert appli 
 cation of manner. An instance occurs among the innumerable 
 anecdotes related of John Randolph. A young aspirant for 
 
MANNER. 235 
 
 congressional fame, saw fit, in his maiden speech, to give proof 
 of his boldness and eloquence, by a long and abusive attack 
 upon the eccentric member from Virginia. At the conclusion 
 of the young orator s voluminous address, the hero of Roanoke 
 arose, and stretching his long, nervous arm towards the seat of 
 the complacent youth, with a half-inquiring, half-contemptuous 
 look, thus replied : " Mr. Speaker, who s that ?" There was a 
 sarcastic bitterness in his manner, under which the offender 
 quailed. I was never more impressed with the poignant sting 
 mere manner can inflict, than on one occasion, when abroad. 
 Soon after day-break on a misty morning, the steam-boat which 
 had brought us from Naples, dropped anchor in the port of 
 Leghorn. We waited with great impatience, the arrival of the 
 permit to land, from the Board of Health. At length, 
 understanding it had been received, I joined a party of the pas 
 sengers, and entered one of the boats which surrounded us. 
 We were distant from the shore about an eighth of a mile. 
 The wind was blowing a gale and the sea running very high. 
 We had reached about the middle of the intervening space, and 
 were beginning to rejoice at the prospect of a comfortable 
 shelter, when the health-officer, from the steam-vessel, hailed 
 our boatman, ordering him upon his peril, not to proceed. It 
 seemed some form had been omitted ; and we were kept in the 
 rain, and among the dashing billows, for more than half an 
 hour. Thoroughly vexed at the officer s conduct, we began at 
 last to approach the quay, cold, wet, and comfortless. Various 
 measures were suggested for bringing him to punishment. An 
 Englishman begged that we would leave it to him, assuring us 
 he was well acquainted with the temperament of the people. 
 Soon after the official barge approached, and in the prow sat 
 our enemy with that air of superiority characteristic of under- 
 
236 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 lings. With much curiosity we awaited the movements of our 
 British companion. To our astonishment he doffed his hat, and 
 said addressing the officer " Your name, sir, if you please." 
 The rowers of the barge slackened their oars and gazed 
 curiously upon their commander; his face was suffused with 
 scarlet " My name ! my name !" he muttered fiercely, and 
 impatiently waving to the oarsmen, they soon shot rapidly away. 
 We looked to the English gentleman for an explanation. 
 " Gentlemen," said he, " be assured I have wounded him to the 
 quick ; if I had parleyed with him his pride would have been 
 gratified ; but by asking, in a ceremonious manner, for his 
 name, in the presence of his men, as if we disdained to do less 
 than complain to his superior, I have both mortified and 
 alarmed him. The formality of my manner has punished him 
 more than words could possibly do." And so it proved ; for on 
 landing we found him pacing the wharf and uttering his indig 
 nation and fears most violently, while ample apologies were 
 proffered us from all quarters. I afterwards discovered that to 
 bandy words with the lower class of Italy, was but to waste 
 one s breath, and subject the patience to a great trial ; to meet 
 them on their own groundj and give them the advantage which 
 the fluency of their language affords. They must be addressed 
 by the language of manner, to which they are peculiarly suscep 
 tible. There is a power in manner. How finely Byron 
 describes, in the bearing of Conrad 
 
 " that commanding art 
 That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart." 
 
 Who that is susceptible to nature, will deny that the sway 
 of manner consists in its truth ? We speak of the impressive 
 dignity of some of the Indian tribes ; kings might strive to imi- 
 
MANNER. 237 
 
 tate it in vain. It is the gift of nature the ennobling grace of 
 the forest lords. The companionship of genius when do we 
 most perfectly realize it ? When enthusiasm has led the gifted 
 mind into such an outpouring that manner is forgotten, and 
 every look and movement is instinct with soul. In aged 
 persons and children those who have lived too long to medi 
 tate effect, and those, who as yet, listen only to the inward ora 
 cle, we most frequently see the perfect spell of manner. What 
 a world of allurement is involved in the common phrase, an 
 unaffected manner ! Nothing is so delightful as what is spon 
 taneous. A frank expression of sentiment, a native manner, 
 captivate ; thrice happy when the latter is habitual. Memnon s 
 image imparted not its mysterious strains except at the touch of 
 the sunbeams, nor will manner yield its true witchery from any 
 inspiration but that of the soul. 
 
238 
 
 FLOWERS, 
 
 Floral apostles ! that in dewy splendor 
 
 Weep without woe, and blush without a crime, 
 
 O may I deeply learn and ne er surrender 
 Your lore sublime. 
 
 HORACE SMITH. 
 
 I ATTENDED church on a fine day of midsummer, in one of 
 the most beautiful villages of New England. The structure, 
 though externally attractive, from its retired situation and the 
 pleasant grove that surrounded it, like most places of wor 
 ship in the country, had a very bare and unhallowed aspect 
 within. The formal divisions of the pews, the superfluity of 
 white paint, and the absence of anything venerable, either in 
 form or hue, made it agreeable to turn the eyes from the thinly 
 scattered congregation and faded pulpit drapery, to the open 
 window, against which a noble linden lightly tossed its sprays, 
 and through which stole in a delicious breeze, that made the 
 ] eaves of the hymn books flutter a response to that sylvan 
 whispering, which had in it more of devotional music than the 
 screeching bass-viol and unchastened voices that soon drowned 
 all other sounds. Tn reverting to the scene more immediately 
 adjacent, however, I suddenly beheld a vase of flowers on the 
 communion-table. They were most inartificially and tastefully 
 arranged ; the brilliant tints judiciously blended, the shadowy 
 green naturally disposed, and the base of the jar which contained 
 them wreathed with trailing blossoms. The sight of this vase 
 of flowers was like enchantment. It seemed to fill that forlorn 
 
FLOWERS, 239 
 
 church with its presence. It spoke of nature, of beauty, of truth, 
 more eloquently than the service. It atoned for the meagre 
 altar, the homely edifice, and the ungarnished pews. It seemed 
 to embody and typify the externals of worship with sacramental 
 chalice, baptismal cup, and odorous censer. 
 
 Science and sentiment have rather formalized than illustrated 
 the association of flowers; the one by its rigid nomenclature, 
 and the other by an arbitrary language, profane the ideal 
 charms of the floral kingdom. It is pleasant to regard. these 
 graceful denizens of the garden and forest, in the spirit of that 
 fine hymn of Horace Smith s which celebrates their beautiful 
 significance. Instead of looking at them through the micro 
 scopic lens of mere curiosity, or according to the fanciful and 
 hackneyed alphabet that Floral dictionaries suggest, let us note 
 their influence as symbols and memorials. To analyse the 
 charm of flowers, is like dissecting music ; it is one of those 
 things which it is far better to enjoy than to attempt to under 
 stand. In observing the relation of flowers to life and character, 
 I have often been tempted to believe that a subtle and occult 
 magnetism pervaded their atmosphere ; that inscriptions of 
 wisdom covered their leaves; and that each petal, stem, and 
 leaf, was the divining rod or scroll that held an invisible truth. 
 
 Viewed abstractly, one of the peculiar attractions of flowers 
 is the fact that they seem a gratuitous development of beauty ; 
 " they toil not, neither do they spin." In almost every other 
 instance in nature, the beautiful is only incidental to the useful ; 
 but flowers have the objectless, spontaneous luxury of existence 
 that belongs to childhood. They typify most eloquently the 
 benign intent of the universe ; and by gratifying, through the 
 senses, the instinct of beauty, vindicate the poetry of life with a 
 divine sanction. Their fragility is another secret charm. A 
 
240 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 vague feeling that the bright hue is soon to wither and the rich 
 odor to exhale, awakens in the mind, unconsciously, that interest 
 which alone attaches to the idea of decay. These two ideas 
 that of the gratuitous offering of nature in the advent of flowers, 
 the benison their presence seems to convey, and the thought of 
 their brief duration invest flowers with a moral significance 
 that renders their beauty more touching, and, as it were, nearer 
 to humanity, than any other species of material loveliness. The 
 infinite variety of form, the exquisite combination of tints, the 
 diversity of habits, and odorous luxuries they boast, it would 
 require an elaborate treatise to unfold. We may obtain an idea 
 of the perfection and individuality of their forms by considering 
 their suggestiveness. Scarcely a tasteful fabric meets the eye, 
 from the rich brocade of a past age to the gay prints of to-day, 
 that owes not its pleasing design to some flower. Not an 
 ancient urn or modern cup of porcelain or silver, but illustrates 
 in its shape, and the embossed or painted sides, how truly 
 beautiful is art when it follows strictly these eternal models of 
 grace and adaptation. Even architecture, as Ruskin justly indi 
 cates, is chiefly indebted to the same source, not only in the 
 minute decorations of a frieze, but in the acanthus that termi 
 nates a column, and the leaf-like pointing of an arch. A skilful 
 horticulturist will exhibit the most delicate shades of fragrance 
 in different species of the rose, until a novice cannot but realize 
 to what a miraculous extent the most refined enjoyment in 
 nature may be sublimated and modified ; and the same thing 
 is practicable as regards both hue and form. 
 
 The spirit of beauty, in no other inanimate embodiment, 
 comes so near the heart. Flowers are related to all the offices 
 and relations of human life. They bound the sacrificial victim 
 of the ancients ; and, from the earliest times, have been woven 
 
FLOWERS. 241 
 
 into garlands for the victor, trembled in the hair of the bride 
 and cheered the invalid s solitude. They have been ever 
 offered at the shrine of beauty, and claimed as the pledges of 
 love, nor ceased to adorn the banquet or be scattered over the 
 grave. Thus domesticated, even without intrinsic beauty, and 
 exclusive of any appeal to taste, flowers are blended in the 
 memories of the least poetical with scenes of unwonted delight, 
 keen emotion, and profound sorrow. Hence they have a lan 
 guage for each, not recognised in any alphabet, and their incense 
 is allied with the issues of destiny. McGregor s foot was more 
 firmly planted, because upon his " native heather ;" the Syrian, 
 in the Jardin des Plants, wept as he clasped his country s 
 palm-tree ; Keats said, in his last illness, that he felt the daisies 
 growing over him ; and one who, even in renowned maturity, 
 had wandered little from the singleness of childhood, declared 
 he could never see a marigold without his mouth s watering at 
 the idea of those swimming in the broth Simple Susan prepared 
 for her mother, in Miss Edgeworth s little story. There is no 
 end to the caressing allusions of Petrarch to the violet and the 
 laurel, so identified with the dress and name of his beloved. 
 Indeed, we might scan biography and the poets for years, and 
 continually find new evidences of the familiar and endearing 
 relation of flowers to sentiment. Each of the latter have cele 
 brated some favorite of the race in their choicest numbers ; and 
 the very names of Ophelia and Perdita are fragrant with the 
 flowers that Shakspeare, with the rarest and most apposite 
 grace, has entwined with their history. 
 
 The Venetian painters must have studied color in the hues 
 of flowers ; for the brilliant, distinct, and warm tone of their 
 works affects the spectator exactly as these rainbow gems ; espe 
 cially when they strike the eye in an isolated position, or sur- 
 * 11 
 
242 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 \ 
 
 rounded by dim umbrage. ISTor is this effect confined to the 
 domesticated flowers ; for the richest and most delicate grada 
 tions of tint occur among uncultivated and indigenous plants 
 such as the lobelia of the swamp, the saffron of the meadow, 
 and the nameless variety of prairie blossoms. There are few 
 more curious subjects of speculation than the modus operandi 
 by which such an infinite diversity of colors are obtained from 
 the same apparent source. This is an exquisite secret of nature s 
 laboratory. The physiology of plants has been successfully 
 investigated ; and it is interesting to consider that the vitality 
 of flowers is much the same as our own as regards its process y 
 though so different in kind. They have affinities of sensibility ; 
 they germinate and fructify ; but the elements they assimilate 
 are more subtle than those which sustain animal organization ; 
 yet sun, earth, and air nourish them according to a nutritive 
 principle not unlike that by which our frames are sustained. 
 The reciprocal action between vegetable and organic life, and 
 their respective absorption and diffusion of gases, is one of the 
 most beautiful expositions of science. But the instinct of 
 flowers is not less curious ; some fold their leaves at the 
 approach of a storm, and others open and shut at particular 
 hours, so that botanists have rejoiced in floral dials and baro 
 meters. Their relation to sight and smell is very obvious ; but 
 that to touch is less regarded, and yet it is extraordinary how 
 the feel of almost every known fabric can be realized by the con 
 tact of leaves. Where the touch is sensitive, experiments of 
 this kind may be tried, much to the amusement of the sportive ; 
 for many leaves, if unperceived, and at the same time subject to 
 an exquisite touch, give the sensation of animal, insect, and even, 
 mineral substances, indicating how intricately modified are the 
 proportions of fibre, down, juice, and enamel in their composition. 
 
FLOWERS. 243 
 
 In their associations, however, flowers are quite independent, 
 both of rare qualities and peculiar beauty. Almost all great 
 men have loved rural seclusion, and have had their favorite villa, 
 island, arbor, or garden-walk. In Switzerland, Germany, and, 
 indeed, everywhere on the continent, these places, consecrated 
 by the partiality or endeared by the memory of genius, are 
 shrines for the traveller. Such are Clarens, Vaucluse, and 
 Coppe. Lamartine s tenderness for Milly, his childhood s 
 home, as exhibited in his late writings, illustrates a sentiment 
 common to all imaginative and affectionate men ; but it is 
 observable that sometimes these charmed spots boast no 
 remarkable floral attractions, often only sufficient to make them 
 rural ; a grove of pines, a small vineyard, a picturesque view, 
 and not infrequently a single tree like the famous old elm 
 at Northampton, amid whose gigantic branches Dr. Edwards, 
 who wrote the celebrated treatise on the Will, was accustomed to 
 sit and meditate ; any truly natural object redolent of verdure 
 and shade, is enough. And the hedges of England, the moors 
 of Scotland, the terrace-gardens of Italy, the scrambling, 
 prickly-pear fences of Sicily, and the orchards of America, are 
 attractive to the natives of each country, on the same principle. 
 It is the beautiful distinction of flowers that, gathered into 
 magnificent horticultural shows or hidden in lonely nooks, they 
 alike address the sense of beauty, so that a little sprig of forget- 
 me-nots may excite a world of sentiment, and one scarlet 
 geranium irradiate an entire dwelling. 
 
 Flowers not only have their phenomena, but their legends. 
 The latter are usually based upon some idea of a sympathetic 
 character, as that which transforms Daphne into a laurel, and 
 changes the pale hue of a flower to crimson or purple at the 
 occurrence of human shame or misfortune. Even veneration is 
 
244 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 excited by the mysterious natural history of some flowers, or the 
 idea they symbolize. Thus the aloe, that blossoms once in a 
 century, and the night-blooming Cereus, which keeps vigil when 
 all other flowers sleep; and the Passion-flower, in which 
 the Catholics behold the tokens of our Saviour s agony, have a 
 kind of solemn attraction for the eye and fancy. 
 
 There is no little revelation of character in floral preferences. 
 It accords with the humanity of Burns that he should celebrate 
 the familiar daisy ; with the delicate organization of Shelley 
 that a sensitive plant should win his muse ; and with Bryant s 
 genuine observation of nature that he dedicates a little poem to 
 an inelegant and neglected gentian. It is in harmony with the 
 English idiosyncrasy and church attachments of Southey, that his 
 most charming minor poem is in praise of the holly, the symbol of a 
 Christian and national festival ; and no poet but Crabbe would 
 descend to so homely a vegetable product as kelp. There is no 
 flower more peculiar in its beauty and growth than the water- 
 lily ; accordingly, Coleridge, with his metaphysical tendency to 
 seize on rare and impressive analogies, has drawn a comparison 
 from this flower which strikes me as one of the most poetical as 
 well as felicitous in modern literature. Speaking of the zest for 
 new truth felt by those already well instructed, as compared 
 with the indifferent mental appetite of the ignorant, he says, 
 " The water-lily, in the midst of waters, opens its leaves and 
 expands its petals at the first pattering of the shower, and 
 rejoices in the rain-drops with a quicker sympathy than the 
 parched shrub in the sandy desert." The dreamy, half sensuous, 
 and half ideal nature of Tennyson, is naturally attracted by the 
 sweet ravishment innate in the breath and juices of some 
 flowers. He is fitted keenly to appreciate the luxurious 
 indolence and fanciful ecstasy thus induced ; and, therefore, one 
 
FLOWERS. 245 
 
 of the most effective and original of his poems is " The Lotus 
 Eaters." Moore s famous image of the sunflower is a constant 
 bone of contention between horticulturists and poets; the 
 former asserting that it does not turn round with the luminary 
 it is supposed to adore, but is as fixed on its stalk as any other 
 flower ; and the latter declaring that the metaphor " se non 
 vero, e ben trovato" 
 
 Few plants are more graceful or versatile in contour than the 
 fern. One can scarcely pass a group without recalling that line 
 of Scott which so aptly describes the utter lull of the air : 
 
 " There is no breeze upon the fern, no ripple on the lake." 
 
 And what figure of rhetoric better suggests the caprice of 
 woman than that which has almost become proverbial since it 
 was incorporated in his spirited verse : 
 
 " variable as the shade 
 
 By the light, quivering aspen made !" 
 
 Goldsmith s sympathy with the rural and human is associated 
 intimately with the hawthorn, " for whispering lovers made." 
 Rosemary has been more emblematic of remembrance, since it 
 was so offered by the " fair Ophelia ;" and Heart s-ease is con 
 secrated by the splendid compliment to " the virgin throned by 
 the West," to which it is indebted for the name of " love-in- 
 idleness." The epicurean utilitarianism of Leigh Hunt recog 
 nised " comfort" in the feel of a geranium leaf ; and who that 
 has read with appreciation Miss Barrett s fine poem, elaborating 
 the beautiful sentiment of the Bible, " He giveth his beloved 
 sleep," can see a poppy, that gorgeous emblem of the drowsy 
 god, without a benison on the thoughtful lyrist ? I think that 
 
246 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 the yellow broom must have originally flourished in lonely 
 places. For hours, I followed a mule-path in the most deserted 
 part of Sicily, cheerful with its blossoms, whose rich yet delicate 
 odor embalmed the air ; hence the significance of Shakspeare s 
 allusion to this flower, " which the dismissed bachelor loves, 
 being lass-lorn." Campbell must have had an oppressive 
 sense of the poisonous horror of night-shade, from his reference 
 to it, in the protest against scepticism, as the natural companion 
 of dismay. I have always thought the thistle an apposite sym 
 bol, not only of Scotland, but of her martyred queen "its 
 fragrant down set round with thorns, and rifled by the bee." 
 
 One of the most popular tales of the day " Picciola" is 
 based upon the interest which a single flower may excite when 
 it is the sole companion of a prisoner ; and the favor this little 
 romance has enjoyed, proves how natural is the sentiment it 
 unfolds. The most severely religious minds, however indifferent 
 to art or scenery, are not infrequently alive to this feeling ; the 
 constant allusion to flowers, in a metaphorical way, in the 
 Scriptures ; the rich poetical meaning attached to them in the 
 East ; the lily that always appears in pictures of the Annuncia 
 tion ; the palm-leaves strewed in our Saviour s path ; the crown 
 of thorns woven for his brow, and his declaration of the field 
 lilies, " that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one 
 of them" indicating that his pure eyes had momentarily rested 
 on their familiar beauty lend to such persons a hallowed sense 
 of their attractiveness. There is yet another reason for this 
 exception to a prosaic view of what is merely charming in itself, 
 which those disposed to bigotry make in favor of flowers. It is 
 that they symbolize immortality. No common figure of speech 
 is more impressive to .the peasant than that which bids him see 
 a " type of resurrection and second birth," in the germination 
 
FLOWERS. 24*7 
 
 of the seed, its growth, development, and blossoming. Again, 
 too, there are the associations of childhood, whose first and 
 most innocent acquisitions were gathered flowers, emblems of 
 its own exuberance, offerings of its primitive love. I imagine 
 the sense of color now regarded as a separate and very un 
 equally distributed faculty is one of the earliest developed ; it 
 explains the intense gratification even of an infant at the sight 
 of a tulip ; and there is reason to believe that the hues of 
 flowers are the most vivid tokens of enjoyment that greet the 
 dawning mind. 
 
 The orientals, adepts in voluptuous ease, place vases of flowers 
 around their fountains ; and, as they lie upon divans, their eyes 
 close, in the refreshing siesta, with these radiant sentinels for 
 the last image to blend with their dreams, and their odor to 
 mingle with the misty spray and cheer their waking. The 
 Greek maidens dropped flowers from their windows on those that 
 passed, to indicate their scorn, praise, or love. One of the 
 poetic touches which redeem the frugal lot of the grisettes, is 
 the habit they indulge of keeping a box of mignonette on their 
 window-sills. You may see them at dawn bending over it, to 
 sprinkle the roots or enjoy the perfume. In Tuscany and the 
 Neapolitan territory, peasants wear gay flowers in their hats ; 
 while the more grave people of the intervening country rarely 
 so adorn themselves. I was struck, at the wedding of an 
 American in France, to see the servants, tearful at parting with 
 their mistress, decorating the interior of her carriage with white 
 flowers. There is something, however, very artificial in the dry 
 immortcls, here and there dyed black, for sale at the gates of 
 Pere la Chaise, and bought by the humbler class of mourners 
 to hang on the crosses that mark the graves of kindred. Our 
 own rural cemeteries are teaching a better lesson. The culture 
 
248 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 of flowers on such domains, is not only in excellent taste, but, 
 when judiciously selected and arranged, a grateful memorial. 
 At Monaco, a town in Italy, a few years since, the body of a 
 young child was covered with flowers, according to the custom 
 of the place ; and when sought for the purpose of interment, it 
 was found sitting up and playing with the flowers an affecting 
 and beautiful evidence of the ignorance of death characteristic 
 of that spotless age. 
 
 Fashion seldom interferes with nature without diminishing 
 her grace and efficiency. It denudes the masculine face of the 
 beard, its distinctive feature ; substitutes for the harmonious 
 movement of the chaste and blithesome dance, the angular 
 caprices of the polka; clips and squares the picturesque in 
 landscape into formalized proportions ; and condemns half the 
 world to an unattractive and inconvenient costume. Even 
 flowers seem profaned by its touch ; there is something morbid 
 in their breath when exhaled profusely in gorgeous saloons and 
 ostentatiously displayed at a heartless banquet ; and wisely as 
 the florist may adjust them into bouquets, they are so firmly 
 entwined and intricately massed together, as often to resemble 
 mosaic. We turn often from the most costly specimen of this 
 appanage of the ball and opera, with a feeling of relief to the 
 single white rosebud on a maiden s breast, or the light jasmin 
 wreath on her brow. The quantity and showy combination of 
 the flowers, especially the heated atmosphere and commonplace 
 gabble of the scene, and often the want of correspondence 
 between the person who so consciously holds the bouquet in 
 her gloved hand and the sweet nature it represents, rob the 
 flowers of their legitimate claim. Indeed, like all truly beauti 
 ful tilings, they demand the appropriate as a sphere. The east 
 wind, in Boston, on the last national holiday, and the grave 
 
FLOWERS. 249 
 
 faces of the children, to say nothing of the idea that approbative- 
 ness and acquisitiveness were the organs mainly called in play 
 in their little overworked brains, utterly dispelled all genuine 
 romance and grateful illusion from the floral procession. Some 
 thing analogous in character, atmosphere, and occasion, is 
 needed to render the ministry of flowers affecting and com 
 plete. 
 
 We instinctively identify our acquaintances with flowers. 
 The meek and dependent are as lilies of the valley, and, 
 like them, need the broad and verdant shield of affectionate 
 nurture ; sycophants are parasites ; exuberant and glowing 
 beauty and feeling are more like the damask rose than anything 
 in nature ; the irritable annoy us like nettles ; the proud emu 
 late the crown imperial ; the graceful are lithe as vine -sprays ; 
 the loving wind around our hearts like tendrils ; and the cheer 
 ful brighten the dim background of life like the scarlet blossoms 
 of the woodbine. Not a flower in the cornucopia of the floral 
 goddess but hath its similitude and its votary. The boy s first 
 miracle is to press the seed-vessels of the balsamine till it snaps 
 at his touch ; or shouts, as he runs from bed to the garden, at 
 the sight of the rich chalice of the morning-glory, planted by 
 his own little hand, that has opened while he slept. The 
 clover s pink globe, and the deep crimson bloom of the sumac ; 
 the exquisite scent of the locust, and the auspicious blooming of 
 the lilac ; the hood-like purple of the fox-glove, and the dainty 
 tint of the sweet pea, stir, whenever they reappear, those dormant 
 memories of early and unalloyed consciousness, which 
 
 " neither man nor boy, 
 
 Nor all that is at enmity with joy, 
 Can utterly abolish or destroy." 
 11* 
 
250 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 Thus, from the first, perverted mortal, thou wert indebted to 
 flowers ; as a wayward urchin, loitering on the way to school, 
 thou whistled shrilly against the edge of a grass-blade, held a 
 butter-cup to the chin of thy little comrade, or puffed away the 
 feathery seed-blossom of the dandelion to ascertain if thy secret 
 wish would be consummated ; as a youth, with quivering pulses 
 and flushed brow, thou wert not ashamed to seek the choicest 
 flowers as interpreters of thy feelings towards one before whom 
 thy words were tremulous, yet fond ; and in thy prime, when 
 positive knowledge and accurate deduction constituted thy 
 felicity, it was, or might have been, to thee a rational pastime 
 to study the botanical relations, laws, and habits of these poetic 
 effusions of the earth ; causing them to gratify thee through 
 analysis, as they once did through sentiment. And " in that 
 Indian summer of the soul," that descends on frosty age, how 
 do flowers serve as the magic connecting bond that unites 
 senility and childhood ! The eye of age softens as it beholds 
 the shower of blossoms from the fruit-trees, thinks of its own 
 flowery day, and is thankful for a serene maturity. Thus have 
 flowers an utterance everywhere and always ; the wild colum 
 bine, on its thread-like stem, that hangs on the stony cliff; the 
 fungus, that swells from the mouldering trunk of gigantic forest 
 trees ; the tropical exotics of the stuffo, that almost bewilder in 
 their strange beauty ; and the buds that open beneath Alpine 
 snows, address our sense of adventure, of wonder, and of gentle 
 ness, in quiet, yet persuasive appeals, that sometimes we cannot 
 choose but heed. 
 
 The fondness of the Dutch for tulips, it may be conjectured, 
 is partly owing to the flatness of their country, as well as its 
 alluvial soil ; the absence of picturesque variety in form inducing 
 a craving for the most vivid sensations from color. Perhaps 
 
FLOWERS. 251 
 
 the compactness and neat growth of bulbous roots, so adapted 
 to their cleanly and well-arranged domicils, somewhat accounts 
 for the exquisite degree of cultivation to which they bring this 
 species of flowers. It is one characteristic advantage of such 
 natural ornaments, that a few well selected, or even one in a 
 room, or in the midst of a grass-plat, will diffuse refreshment 
 and excite imagination. Thus the flowers that cluster on the 
 roofs of Genoa, and the little knot of violets imbedded in 
 geranium leaves dispensed by the flower-girls in Tuscany, are 
 more pleasing than if the display were greater. On revisiting 
 a city of the latter State, after years of absence, as I followed 
 the lagging porter who carried my luggage, in the twilight of 
 early morning, I was startled by a cordial exclamation, " Ben 
 tomato, ben tomato, signore!" and looking down a narrow 
 street, I saw the flower-girl from whom I had so long ago been 
 accustomed to purchase, gaily advancing with a bouquet. It 
 was a welcome such as awaits the traveller in few countries, 
 and one which touched the^ heart with cluferful augury. 
 
 There is, indeed, something in flowers redolent of hope and 
 suggestive of amity. Their very universality renders them elo 
 quent of greeting. The fair, maternal bosom of Titian s Flora 
 has a significance beyond that which artists recognise ; it pro 
 claims Nature as a beneficent parent, lavishly dispensing the 
 flowers that strew life s rugged path, with sweet monitions and 
 grateful refreshment. How, in the season of vivid emotion, has 
 the unexpected sight of a pale crocus bursting from the mould in 
 early spring, the teeming odor of a magnolia tossed on a sum 
 mer breeze, or the green flakes of a larch, powdered with 
 snowy crystal in the winter sun, kindled the very frame with a 
 kind of mysterious delight ! There is to the poetical sense, a 
 ravishing prophecy and winsome intimation in flowers, that now 
 
252 THE OPTIMIST, 
 
 and then, from the influence of mood or circumstance, re-asserts 
 itself like the reminiscence of childhood or the spell of love. 
 Then we realize that they are the survivors of our lost paradise, 
 the types of what is spontaneous, inspiring, and unprofaned in 
 life and humanity, the harbingers of a blissful futurity. It was, 
 therefore, in a rational as well as a fanciful spirit, that trees were 
 consecrated into emblems and auguries ; that the willow, in its 
 meek flexibility, was made the insignia of desertion ; the 
 cypress, in its solemn and dense foliage, of death ; the enduring 
 amaranth, of immortality ; and the classic shaped, and bright 
 green leaves of the laurel, of fame. Not only in their native 
 traits, but in their almost sympathetic habits, flowers come near 
 our affections. How patiently the ivy binds the disjointed 
 stones of a ruined edifice, and the moss creeps over the grey 
 and time-stained roots and rocks, as if to cover their decay, and 
 relieve their sterility ! With what a wreathing protection 
 clusters the woodbine round the humble porch ! The field 
 flowers, some one has truly said, smile up to us as children to 
 the face of a father ; and the seeds of those destined for birds, 
 fly on innumerable wings of down, to germinate the more 
 abundantly. The warm hues of the dahlia would be 
 oppressive in any other season than autumn ; and the glitter of 
 the ocean s strand is chastened by the gay weeds, whose 
 variegated tints are freshened by every wave that dies along the 
 beach. Even this herbal, the repository of memorials gleaned 
 from hallowed scenes, or treasured as the fragile trophies of joys 
 as fragile, " strikes the electric chain" of imagination and me 
 mory with a deeper vibration than a sketch-book or a diary. 
 That little cluster of thin, pale green leaves, with a shade of deli 
 cate brown at the edges (called by the Italians the Hair of 
 Venus), which clings to the page as if painted on its surface, 
 
FLOWERS, 253 
 
 once hung from the dark, rocky wall of the remarkable cavern 
 in Syracuse, called the Ear of Dionysius ; and as I look upon it, 
 the deserted bay, crumbling tombs, and wreck-strewn cam- 
 pagna of that ancient site are vividly before me ; even the flavor 
 of the Hybla honey, and the echo of the mule s tramp, return to 
 my senses. This weed, so common in shape and hue that it 
 needs a reminiscence to justify its preservation, was plucked as I 
 stood tip-toe on the edge of a gondola, and held fast to old 
 Antonio s shoulder, wlme he checked his oar beneath the Bridge 
 of Sighs, and I snatched it from the interstices of the arch. The 
 piazza of San Marco, the Adriatic glowing with the flush of 
 sunset, the lonely canals, and all the grey quietude of Venice, 
 are conjured by the withered memento, " as at the touch of an 
 enchanter s wand." More costly acquisitions have yielded less 
 zest in the winning than this slender yellow flower, which, evad 
 ing the jealous watchfulness of the guard at Pompeii, I 
 gathered to assure myself thenceforth that I had actually walked 
 the streets of the buried city. How venerable seems this bunch 
 of grass and flowers that drew its sustenance from the loamy 
 walls of the Coliseum ; and with how marvellous a freshness do I 
 call up the medieval architecture,exquisite campanile^nd mountain 
 boundaries of Florence, beholding again the anemone purloined, 
 on a fine Sabbath morning, in the gardens of the Boboli ! I can 
 not see this cassia blossom without feeling a certain impulsion to 
 monastic life, as I think of the kind friars, the noble organ, lava- 
 heaped confines and soothing retirement of the Benedictine con 
 vent, at Catania, whence I bore it as the memento of one of 
 those white days in the traveller s experience, that atone for a 
 thousand discomforts. Pleasant was the summer evening, at 
 Messina, when, in one of the palaces that line the marina, we 
 kept gay vigil in order to witness the blooming of this faded 
 
254 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 Cereus ; and high beat the pulses of an entranced multitude on 
 "the night this faded nosegay was pressed to the lips of Amina, 
 in that last scena, when her voice quivered with uncontrollable 
 feeling, and carolled the "Ah ! non giunge " in tones of such 
 pathetic delight as brought a tear to the sternest eye. I will 
 not throw away this rusty-looking japonica, but keep it as a 
 talisman to guard me from the fascination of heartless beauty, 
 
 reflecting on the character of the brilliant , in whose dark 
 
 hair it rested during the last ball of her triumphant season, that 
 bewitching face displaying every phase of expression, while not 
 one look was inspired by a soul, any more than this flower, in 
 its graceful prime, was imbued with fragrance. Far different 
 is the association that endears the scarlet honeysuckle and white 
 holy hock beside it. Through peaceful hours that overflowed 
 with unuttered tenderness, and an ecstatic sense of geniality and 
 recognition, I watched beside one I loved ; the humming-bird 
 and the bee sipping the nectar from their chalices, and 
 compared the luxurious pastime with my own. Nor will I 
 cease to treasure this orange-blossom given me by the dark-eyed 
 Palermitan, in the grove of her father s domain, when the air 
 was filled with the odor of the sweet south, and musical with 
 the far-off chime of the vesper-bells. The scent of this grape- 
 blossom is associated with the hospitality of a villa below 
 Fiesole; and that heliotrope makes me think of a fair invalid 
 with whom. I wandered among the ilexes of a palace-garden, in 
 whose grassy walks the vanilla flower grew profusely. I saved the 
 reedy leaf that is stitched to the opposite page, as one of the 
 countless proofs of the thoughtful care of my motherly hostess 
 
 at . She stuck it in my window on Palm Sunday. 
 
 When gleaned in a field near Lucca, this little flax-blossom held a 
 dew-drop, and looked like the tearful blue eye of a child. Arid as it 
 
FLOWERS. 255 
 
 is, the pink, star-like flower beneath whispers of romance. At a 
 pic-nic, a friend of mine who has an extreme impatience of 
 tenter-hooks, determined to have his position with a certain fair 
 one defined, as, after some encouragement, she seemed half-in 
 clined for another. With true feminine tact she avoided an 
 interview, though they constantly met. I believe she either 
 could not decide between the two, or hated to give up my 
 friend. He laughingly proposed, while we were resting in a 
 meadow, to make his favorite a sybil, and handed her a knot of 
 these starry flowers, to pluck the leaves one by one, and reveal 
 the hearts of the company, according to a familiar game. 
 When the time came to apply the test to her own sentiments, 
 she was visibly embarrassed. He fixed his calm eyes upon her 
 face, and I, knowing at once his delicacy and his superstition, felt 
 that this was a crisis. The lovely creature s voice trembled, 
 when, half petulantly, and with visible disappointment, she 
 plucked away the last leaf, which proved her only his well- 
 wisher. The omen was accepted, and my friend soon had 
 
 " a rougher task in hand 
 
 Than to drive liking to the name of love." 
 
 Flowers are the most unobjectionable and welcome of gifts. 
 There is a delicacy in selecting an offering, whether of gratitude, 
 kindness, or affection, that sometimes puzzles a considerate 
 mind ; but where any such hesitancy occurs, we can turn to 
 flowers with complacency. Nature furnishes them, and all her 
 beautiful products may bravely challenge fastidiousness. No 
 human being not utterly perverted, can scorn flowers : nor can 
 they be offered, even to the spoiled child of fortune, without an 
 implied compliment to taste. The fairest of Eve s daughters, 
 and the proudest scion of nobility, as well as the village beauty, 
 
256 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 the most gifted and least cultivated provided either imagina 
 tion or heart exists must feel gratified at such a tribute, 
 whether from dependent or equal, new acquaintance or faithful 
 lover. Like all spontaneous attractions, that of flowers gives them 
 immunity from ordinary rules. They are so lovely and so frail, 
 that, like children, they bespeak indulgence ere they offend. Of 
 all material things, they excite the most chivalric sentiment ; 
 and hence, are given and received, scattered and woven, cultivat 
 ed and gathered, worn and won, with a more generous and 
 refined spirit than any other ornaments. They are radiant hie 
 roglyphics sculptured on the earth s bosom ; perhaps the legacy 
 of angels, but certainly overflowing with messages of love that 
 are apart from the work-day scenes and prosaic atmosphere of 
 common life, and allied to better moments ; to the sweet epi 
 sodes of existence, to the promises of love, and the memories of 
 youth ; and hence they are consecrated, and like " the quality 
 of mercy," bless " him that gives and her that takes." 
 
257 
 
 BROAD VIEWS. 
 
 Thou shall know that this Universe is what it professes to be an infinite one. 
 Attempt not to swallow it for thy logical digestion. 
 
 CARiYLS. 
 
 IT is pleasant to steal away from a group of system-worship 
 pers, and commune awhile with some solitary, uncounted being, 
 whose scope of thought is unlimited by any artificial bounds, 
 and the play of whose feelings is as free as the mountain wind. 
 It is like leaving the smoky precincts of a highland hut, on a 
 summer morning, to stand beneath the open sky and look forth 
 upon the hills. There is something as refreshing to the mind s 
 eye in broad views of life and man, of art and literature, of 
 facts and individuals, of nature and society, as there is to the 
 bodily sense in majestic and boundless scenery. Broad views 
 are characteristic of mental elevation. To the eagle s eye, when 
 he hangs poised among the clouds, a common arena and 
 universal atmosphere blend the aspect of earth and her myriads. 
 By as certain a law, does the human universe present a general 
 and softened picture to the intellect, sublimated by love and 
 enlarged by culture. 
 
 It was once my privilege to walk through a renowned 
 repository of art, with a man of genius. I had scrutinized the 
 various objects there preserved with companions of less calibre, 
 who evidently prided themselves upon detecting discrepancies of 
 style and errors of execution, My new cicerone, on the contrary, 
 designated beauties in works, which, as wholes, are held in light 
 
258 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 estimation, and was continually directing my attention to the 
 lesser excellences of the more celebrated productions. This 
 was the genuine spirit of noble criticism. Broad views are as 
 naturally taken by gifted men, as limited ones by those of 
 subordinate intelligence. You never hear an ardent lover of art 
 or literature commenting con amore, upon the minor blemishes 
 of a production in which genius is dominant. How do the 
 aspirants for a reputation for gentility, err by continually mooting 
 the narrow topic of rank ; and how do the would-be critic? 
 mistake their vocation by anxiously discussing etymologies ! 
 Broad views are the legitimate result of experience and general 
 knowledge. 
 
 The author of some modern farce makes one of his heroes, 
 an accomplished Parisian duellist, console a foreign coxcomb 
 whom he has challenged, by promising to have him " neatly 
 packed up and directed." Somewhat after this fashion, men 
 appear to be dealt with in society. Because an individual sees 
 fit to connect himself with a certain association, manifest an 
 interest in a specific object, or temporarily display, with more 
 than ordinary force, a particular principle of his nature, he is at 
 once classed, newly baptized with a party name, enrolled, 
 severed by an artificial distinction in a word, " packed up and 
 directed." An imaginary badge is affixed to him as significant 
 as the phylactery of the phavisee, the star of courtly honor, or 
 the colored ribbon denoting academic or knightly preferment. 
 To all the general interests and purposes of social life, he is 
 proscribed. The usual method of answering the question, 
 
 " What sort of a person is ?" is to designate the body 
 
 political, scientific, or otherwise, to which the individual is 
 attached. A fashionable votary refers you to the " circle," a 
 religionist to the " sect," and an intellectualist, to the " school ;" 
 
BROAD VIEWS. 259 
 
 each " packs up and directs " that most diverse, spontaneous, 
 and free of human results-^-character, according to his whim. 
 
 Classification is doubtless very applicable to minerals and 
 plants, and labels have been found very useful in pharmacy. 
 The inert, unalterable, fixed qualities of matter may be 
 designated by a specific or generic name, may be " packed up 
 and directed ;" but the idea of so disposing of human beings 
 of indicating the endless modifications of feeling, imagination, 
 and thought, by any epithet referring only to opinions, is 
 preposterous in the extreme. We have two brief, but most 
 expressive terms for the two most sublime objects in the 
 universe ; we speak of sea and sky ; but who ever thinks of 
 taking profound cognisance of a particular wave, or devoutly 
 following through the horizon a single, shifting cloud ? We 
 regard the various movements of the deep and the ever 
 changing aspect of the heavens, with perfect confidence that the 
 calm ethereal canopy of the one still stretches in beauty above, 
 and the fathomless depths of the other still sound on their w r ay 
 below. Why should we be less just to man ? Why believe 
 that the deep attributes, the great elements of his nature, are 
 invaded by the aspects his versatile being presents in a world of 
 circumstances ? Why fix our eye upon the temporary wave or 
 the passing cloud, when there is an infinite depth below and a 
 glorious expanse abovo, which shall endure when the currents of 
 opinion and the breezes of circumstance have died away on an 
 illimitable shore ? 
 
 If Madame de Stael did not err in her idea that mankind are 
 never alike but " through affectation or design," then this 
 system of classifying is especially unjust, and to form any 
 definite notion of an individual from the party-title affixed to 
 him, is altogether unphilosophical. Yet how perversely we cut 
 
260 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 ourselves off from society calculated to inspire the deepest 
 interest or to exert a most auspicious influence, by the dominion 
 of some foolish antipathy ! Hundreds are avoided or but 
 casually known because they labor under the imputation of 
 being antiquarians, phrenologists, or litterateurs, as if each and 
 all of these characters might not be cultivated without absorbing 
 humanity ! Yet being " packed up and directed " under these 
 or equally effective terms, men, ay, and woment too, are 
 rendered obnoxious to no small portion of their fellow creatures. 
 
 " Why do you not converse with Miss A ?" I inquired of a 
 
 very sensible lady at a party the other evening. " Oh, I m 
 terribly afraid of literary ladies," she replied, with an ill- 
 suppressed shudder at my suggestion. Now the lady in question 
 had merely given to the public some lively sketches of common 
 life, such as would have been very appropriate epistolary matter 
 wherewith to entertain an absent friend ; and she was in the 
 habit of talking well of everything in the whole range of topics, 
 except literature, about which she knew and cared no more than 
 was absolutely necessary to vindicate her claims to ordinary 
 cultivation. Yet was she thus unceremoniously " packed up " 
 in that peculiarly odious box marked " blues." 
 
 This miserable habit of our times is vividly illustrated by the 
 manner in which those next most sacred things to mortals, books, 
 are treated. Celsus reprobates the idea of a fixed system of 
 diet, on the ground that men are exposed to every variety of 
 influence and condition of body ; and if books have been justly 
 considered as mental food, then may we, on the same ground, 
 advantageously vary our reading. Yet there is scarcely an 
 individual who has not " packed up and directed " numberless 
 works, of the true value of which he is altogether unaware ; 
 
BROAD VIEWS. 261 
 
 packed them up in the iron casket of prejudice, and directed 
 them to the far distant region of neglect. 
 
 " It is the spirit of the soul s natural piety," says a British 
 divine, " to alight on whatever is touching or beautiful in every 
 faith, and take thence its secret draught of pure and fresh 
 emotion." And so is it the spirit of him accustomed to broad 
 views, to recognise man, as such, however artificially displayed, 
 to blot out, at a glance, the label society has attached to him, 
 and behold the earlier and indelible signature of nature : 
 
 " that secret spirit of humanity, 
 
 Which, mid her weeds and flowers, and silent 
 Overgrowings, still survives." 
 
262 
 
 TPIE RATIONALE OF IOVE. 
 
 " Nature is fine in love." 
 
 SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 I HAVE read of a Prairie traveller lost amid a sea of flowers 
 and verdure, without food or compass, who, after wandering 
 famished for weary days, struck upon the traces of a horse-path, 
 and followed it hopefully and long, until he was dismayed to 
 find himself upon his own trail, having travelled in a circle, to 
 sink at last at the very spot where he first discovered his error. 
 Is it not often so with love ? Do we not fondly imagine our 
 selves close upon the trail of another soul, when we are only 
 bewildered in the mazes of our own imaginations, and awaken 
 to the final conviction that the goal of feeling is identical with 
 its starting-point ? Still, in all things, do we not arrive at good 
 through perplexity and baffled endeavors ? Is it not weak to 
 doubt a reality to which consciousness bears invariable testi 
 mony ? Truth ultimately prevails in matters of feeling as well 
 as of fact, for the " eternal years of God are hers." 
 
 Yet how few understand the sanctity of love ! Only those 
 to whom it is a principle, not an accident, can appreciate its 
 holiness. It is like religion in its world-renouncing spirit. Its 
 true votaries are those who, in their commerce with society, 
 present a calm, I had almost said an unattractive presence. 
 They are indifferent, statuesque, or, it may be, a buoyant and 
 kindly spirit haunts the vestibule, while love lies hid behind 
 the veil of the inner temple. Expression itself, under the influ- 
 
THE RATIONALE OF LOVE. 263 
 
 ence of consecrated affection, has become sacred. No longer is 
 it completely active, open, and visible ; but rather lieth, like the 
 electric fluid, in a cloud, to be deeply revealed only at the invo 
 cation of the loved. " There is a gloom," says LandorJ " in 
 deep love, as in deep water ; there is a silence in it that sus 
 pends the foot ; and the folded arms and the dejected head are 
 the images it reflects." As a master hand alone can call forth 
 the richest tones of an instrument, so but one creature in the 
 universe can evoke the latent inspiration of the devoted soul. 
 He who smiles alike on all has never surrendered up his heart 
 to one. Even animal instinct might give a lesson in this 
 regard. Some birds instantly desert their nest when profaned 
 by a human touch, which they instinctively discover. Well 
 says the poet ; 
 
 " Be wise : not easily forgiven 
 Are those, who, setting wide the doors that bar 
 The secret bridal chamber of the heart, 
 Let in the day." 
 
 There is a kind of monastic bearing which indicates to the 
 spiritual observer Love s genuine votary. The harem of the 
 Turk is a tyrannical and an outward seclusion, and many a 
 nun s bosom is peopled with earthly desires. There is a self- 
 imposed privacy, less easily invaded than convent walls. It is 
 the courteous reserve or the playful indifference which a strong 
 and true being maintains, when loyal and earnest love possesses 
 the citadel of the soul. Let the world call it pride or levity, 
 let the vain flatterers in life s sunshine turn disappointed from 
 the folded flower ; let the eye be condemned for its unrespon 
 sive glance, and the cheek for its unvarying hue. There is 
 a lamp within the vase, which the torch of the many cannot 
 
264 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 illume. More intense, more pure and real, is the emotion that 
 is hoarded in the breast. More subduing and deep is the feel 
 ing which like fire in ice, or fruit in flowers, is guarded by a 
 chilly or sweet barrier from all profanation. The nature which 
 borrows all its excitement from the love of pleasing, may spread 
 like a broad river widely and free, but noble and profound 
 sympathies work inwardly until they gush towards heaven in 
 musical and radiant fountains. It is painful to a sensitive mind 
 to be misunderstood ; it requires no little heroism patiently to 
 be considered devoid of what is in fact most truly characteristic ; 
 yet, who would not give up popularity for appreciation, admi 
 ration of the multitude for the love of a few, fashionable success 
 for genial communion, the passing tributes of society for the 
 absolute devotion of the individual ? Those to whom this is 
 a great sacrifice may have a mental perception, but they can 
 have no consciousness of love. To an imaginative mind there 
 can be no attraction like the evidence of a peculiar sentiment 
 which the renewed self-respect of its object betrays. There is 
 nothing exacting in this. It is but the proof of an actual in 
 distinction from a fanciful relation. It brings home, as no pro 
 fessions can, the feeling of having achieved a destiny. Such 
 an event ought to make life a different thing, and color anew 
 all its associations. More distant thenceforth are the conven 
 tional ties of existence, more defined every feeling of the heart. 
 The affections have at last a sublime repose. Benevolence may, 
 indeed, be active ; but love is no longer a matter of speculation. 
 It has ceased to be a circulating medium, and is all called in 
 to be fused in one golden mass, and deposited in the soul s 
 treasury for ever. 
 
 The lights and shades of love are countless. The attractive 
 ness of women is a quality of " infinite variety." Werter 
 
THE RATIONALE OF LOVE. 265 
 
 thought the object of his affection peculiarly winning, as she 
 distributed bread to hungry children. Standing like Ruth in 
 the midst of the harvest, her flaxen hair streaming in the 
 breeze, her cheek glowing, her blue e en liquid and bright, how 
 wholly fascinating in the eyes of Robert Burns, was the lassie 
 from whose sweet palm he picked the nettles ! Juliet was not 
 fairer in the moonlit balcony, nor Laura amid the solemn 
 graces of the church of St. Clara. She with whom it is 
 delightful to walk, may be wholly unimpressive when silently 
 at work. I knew a fair Spaniard whose most effective position 
 was at her embroidery. How archly she plied the needle ! 
 There was a sort of bewitching consciousness of power in the 
 way she punctured the canvas. Her attitude was a picture ; 
 the very bend of the shoulders, the stag-like air of the head, 
 the play of the dark eye-lashes as they rose and fell from the 
 pattern to her work, the occasional sigh of weariness, and 
 graceful tossing back of the long ringlets every look and move 
 ment was beautiful. A man s heart may be won in an after 
 noon s ramble, leaving tongue-craft out of the question. A fine 
 walk and confiding fellowship of bearing will subdue many who 
 are quite insensible to the household graces. Di Vernon under 
 stood this. If the sex only knew their strong points, or 
 were content to instinctively abide by them, how universally 
 agreeable they would all be ! But with a curious perversity, 
 they almost invariably pride themselves on their weak wing. 
 Women fitted to shine in conversation will spend hours in the 
 vain endeavor to set off advantageously their small modicum of 
 personal beauty, when their true course would be to win the 
 eye from critical observance, by charming the ear. There are 
 women whose silence is absolutely beautiful, whose faces breathe 
 a quiet spell that even words " spoken in season" would break, 
 
 12 
 
266 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 whose simple presence hath enough of captivation, giving the 
 fancy an entrancing impulse which no eloquence could rival. 
 There is a vast difference between the handsome and the lovely. 
 We look on the former with the same equanimity with which 
 we regard a fine statue. The very beauty of such faces often 
 springs from the absence of emotion. The features are cast in 
 a classic or noble mould, and must accordingly be contem 
 plated with pleasure ; but the countenance which, critically 
 speaking, is perhaps full of faults, and yet has that charm of 
 expression which we call lovely, haunts the memory and melts 
 the heart. Handsome women are excellent for the wives of 
 ambassadors ; they seem born to be ladies, to dress elegantly, 
 and minister at the altar of fashion ; but lovely women they 
 are the true poetry of life ; their naivete cheers, their smiles 
 exhilarate, their tenderness blesses. They are 
 
 " ta en from the common clay, 
 Moulded by God and tempered by the tears 
 Of angels."* 
 
 As they move around us, the very atmosphere grows heavenly ; 
 as they sit beside us, the pulse of care is laid asleep ; their con 
 fidence elates the soul more than royal favor, and their love is 
 life s dearest boon. 
 
 Society is too often at war with love. Thousands of human 
 spirits created to assimilate, to afford mutual comfort and inspi 
 ration, to interpret each other, and find in sympathy a balm 
 and motive that will render them superior to vicissitude ; thou 
 sands of human spirits cross and recross each other s paths, 
 severed by the barriers of vain custom and arbitrary opinion. 
 
 * Tennyson. 
 
THE RATIONALE OF LOVE. 267 
 
 " We are light sparkles floating in the atmosphere of Deity," 
 says a powerful writer ; yes, we are so, but swept about for 
 ever by the capricious winds of social habits and theories. We 
 hear noble and devoted feeling continually eulogized ; but why 
 cultivate it at the expense of so much uncompromising zeal, 
 such abrogation of self, and loyalty to principle, if the baser 
 tenets of inferior natures are to rule its exercise ? It is moral 
 cowardice to obey the letter of the law and know not its spirit ; 
 the soul has inalienable rights, and the first of these is love. 
 It is controllable by reason, allied to what is highest within us, 
 and therefore legitimately entitled to reign. " So soon as this 
 want or power," says Shelley, " is dead, man becomes the living 
 sepulchre of himself, and what yet survives is the mere husk of 
 what he once was." 
 
 Narrow moralists err in confounding action and emotion. 
 Shall any blind adherence to hollow routine prevent an intelli 
 gent, free being from acknowledging to itself what " God hath 
 joined together ?" Is there not a bridal over which silence pre 
 sides, holier than any which priestly words sanction ? Perchance 
 if the veil were lifted from all human hearts, at this moment, 
 it would be seen that the purest, deepest, most real love on 
 earth is unrecognised, unacknowledged, and only vaguely 
 recorded in the page of genius or the unwritten day-dream. 
 "The unconscious," says Carlyle, "is the alone complete." 
 Many a being is sustained by a sentiment never even self- 
 confessed. There is a glorious conservative principle in our 
 nature. The true heart is mighty. This is a fact which con 
 firms the doctrine of immortality. The intense individuality, 
 the clear and absolute claim of love, no social agency can over 
 come. The principle must be divine, thus to survive. Though 
 " lips of motionless ice reply to lips glowing with the heart s 
 
268 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 best food;" though the conventionalities of love are for ever 
 bringing into disrepute the sentiment ; though every obstacle 
 is assiduously erected against that candid and habitual inter 
 course which would lead to such blessed realities, let the votary 
 of truth hopefully grope his way amid the repulsive artificialities 
 of the world, towards the high temple of the divinity ! 
 
 But the chief obstacle to love is moral, not external, It lies 
 in weakness or insincerity. It expires because divorced from 
 character. 
 
 " How fine and noble a thing is confidence, 
 How reasonable too and almost godlike ! 
 Fast cement of fast friends, bond of society, 
 Old natural go-between in the world s business, 
 Where civil life and order, wanting this cement, 
 Would presently rush back 
 Into the pristine state of singularity, 
 And each man stand alone."* 
 
 Of life s countless incongruities that startle with bitter truth 
 the blest dreams of the heart, the saddest is the union " fraught 
 with woe " of loveliness and levity. To see the young cut off in 
 their spring, a majestic tree withered in a parasite s embrace, 
 the golden harvest prostrate and mildewed by storms, suggests 
 thoughts not wholly despairing. But a human creature richly 
 endowed with every grace, radiant in beauty, fascinating to 
 behold, whose every aspect and utterance is winsome, with no 
 strength of affection, no permanency of feeling, not a forlorn 
 spark of the enthusiasm her charms inspire is life s crowning 
 mockery. It is light without heat, blossom without fruit, an 
 enticing shadow, an unreal essence, a magnificent delusion. To 
 
 * Lamb s John Woodville. 
 
THE RATIONALE OF LOVE. 269 
 
 those who yield to its allurements, it is given to know the fate 
 of Tantalus, aggravated in the degree that moral surpasses 
 physical suffering. We talk of life and death, of the conflict of 
 the elements, of verdure and sterility, of light and shade, as 
 wonderful antagonism ; but from these opposites arise harmo 
 nious results, and there is some principle more or less clear 
 obviously at work in their mutual action. But the soul, by an 
 instinct stronger than reason, ever associates beauty with truth. 
 "Where expression, in its sweetest and most attractive shape, 
 beams from form and feature, almost irresistible is the impulse 
 there to yield faith ; and there is no re-action of the heart more 
 dark and chill than the deliberate conviction that the inimitable 
 altar at which we worshipped, is a whited sepulchre. 
 
 " Oh, Evadne ! 
 Would there were any safety in thy sex !" 
 
 Do we wonder, then, that the heathens only deified nature 
 and the dead ? How calm and enduring then seems the beauty 
 of the outward world in comparison with the illusive and 
 incomplete loveliness of humanity ! How soon do the waves of 
 mortal love, in their restless heavings, cast us in meek supplica 
 tion at the feet of the Eternal ! Not a spear of grass but seems 
 more blest in the lowly completeness of its destiny ; not a 
 fleecy cloud sails across the blue sky, but appears chartered with 
 a tranquil assurance denied to the soul. 
 
 " If this, indeed, were all, 
 Better the narrow brain, the stony heart, 
 The staring eye glazed o er with sapless days, 
 The long mechanic pacings to and fro, 
 The set grey life and apathetic end." 
 
 But this is not all. High feeling is not identical with what 
 
270 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 is called youthful romance. Indeed the instances are rare, and 
 the characters remarkable, where it asserts itself in very early 
 life. One of the most philosophic men I ever knew, who not 
 only professed, but lived out a settled theory of human nature, 
 maintained that suffering was essential to the capacity of true 
 love. He believed the elements of the soul were deepened and 
 made conscious only through painful experience. At a mature 
 age he sought the presence of one who had known severe 
 affliction, and possessed native strength of mind and feeling 
 adequate to improve it. Nor was he disappointed. So much 
 a part of his being did she become, that from the hour of her 
 death his pulse intermitted. There is a latent morality involved 
 in all genuine experience, which reflection at length discovers. 
 Hence the calm priest of Rydal Mount declares that 
 
 " Love was given, 
 
 Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly to this end, 
 That self might be annulled." 
 
 To all there come better moments, seasons when the hidden 
 flowers of character expand. Those with whom we hold general 
 intercourse, elicit but parts of our natures. Kindred and the 
 friends of our childhood are blinded by familiarity ; they are too 
 near the moral landscape to see the perspective ; some early, 
 perhaps casual trait, some fixed, local, or personal association, a 
 certain habitual outward sympathy, often utterly prevents them 
 from comprehending or appreciating us : 
 
 " The youth, because 
 
 He had been always with her in the house, 
 Thought not of Dora." 
 
 Will God suffer us, if true and patient, to pass thus masked 
 through the world? Shall the deep resources, the most 
 
THE RATIONALE OF LOVE. 2-71 
 
 individual affinities within us, lie for ever unknown ? Will no 
 eye be love-quickened to discern, no ear made acute to hear what 
 is highest and most real ? Shall not the mute chord be struck 
 at last by a hand skilled to call out its profoundest melody ? 
 Will not the restless spirit become for awhile domesticated in 
 this beautiful world, and surrender itself trustfully to existence ? 
 One of the unregarded proofs of the divinity in the heart is the 
 process wrought by a manly soul, to which the serious aspect of 
 life has been revealed, upon the more flexible and less compre 
 hensive spirit of an attached woman. Then, indeed, she 
 recognises " God in him." Development is the grand condition 
 to which our natures tend ; and love, in its best sense, the most 
 efficient agency therein. It is a blessed ordination which renders 
 woman so much more alive to the present, so impressible, so 
 inclined and fitted to draw materials of thought and enjoyment 
 from what is adjacent and incidental. The sterner sex, in their 
 larger interests and more far-reaching speculations, forget that 
 " a man s best things lie nearest him ;" and fail to apply the 
 great precept that " sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." 
 Happy is it that gentle voices make him aware of the flower at 
 his feet, and the breeze that plays rouud his brow, of the humble 
 yet constant ministries he is so apt to neglect, and the thousand 
 minor sources of truth and happiness that every hour brings 
 forth, and thrice happy for her, that when " thoughts too deep 
 for tears" awe her quick perceptions, when solemn realities 
 brood oppressively upon her lightsome heart, there is an 
 interpreter at hand to guide and to encourage. The richest 
 vine may trail upon the ground and be lost to view amid the 
 grass, if there be no oak near it to lift it gracefully into the 
 sunshine. Thus character acts, mind meets mind, soul responds 
 
272 THE OPTIMIST. 
 
 to soul, lofty and tender sympathies co-operate, and we realize 
 why the " natural tears " of Eve were so quickly dried, when 
 she departed from Paradise. Dante makes hell itself sacred by 
 admitting mutual love to dwell amid its terrors. Then we 
 sleep again the sleep of childhood, and the light of dawn is like 
 a new birth. We walk beneath the sky as if allied to its 
 infinity; and the invisible touch of the breeze affects us like 
 the gratulation of nature ; we recognise a divine principle in the 
 issues of being, and become conscious of the golden link between 
 terrestrial life and immortality. It is wonderful to trace the 
 gradual effect of intimate and true communion. "We smile 
 incredulously at the anecdotes of the magnetizer. There is a 
 more subtle change, a more spiritual infusion, of which love is 
 the channel. It sometimes scarcely appears extravagant to say 
 that lovers create the souls to which they are bound. Every 
 true woman sees " Othello s visage in his mind." We in a 
 manner become what we love. Wisdom and refinement, 
 strength to endure, and vision to behold new and glorious 
 endowments full of beauty and promise, are the legitimate 
 offspring of enlightened and deep affection. 
 
 " There is a love ! tis not the wandering fire 
 That must be fed on folly, or expire ; 
 Gleam of polluted hearts, the meteor ray 
 That fades as rises Reason s nobler day ; 
 But passion made essential, holy, bright, 
 Like the raised dead, our dust transformed to light. 
 Tis not the cold Romancer s ecstasy, 
 The flame new-lit at every passing eye ; 
 But the high impulse that the stately soul 
 Feels slow engross it, but engross it whole ; 
 Yet seeks it not, nay turns with stern disdain 
 
THE RATIONALE OF LOVE. 273 
 
 On its own weakness that can wear a chain ; 
 Still wrestling with the angel, till its pride 
 Feels all the strength departed from its side."* 
 
 * Croly. 
 
 THE END. 
 
u 
 
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