TheWorksOfEdgarAllanPoe—Volume4

ByEdgarAllanPoe

TheWorksofEdgarAllanPoe

THEDEVILINTHEBELFRY

Whato'clockisit?—OldSaying.

EVERYBODYknows,inageneralway,thatthefinestplaceintheworldis—or,alas,was—theDutchboroughofVondervotteimittiss.Yetasitliessomedistance from any of the main roads, being in a somewhat out-of-the-waysituation, there are perhapsvery fewofmy readerswhohave ever paid it avisit.For thebenefitof thosewhohavenot, therefore, itwillbeonlyproperthat I should enter into some account of it. And this is indeed the morenecessary, as with the hope of enlisting public sympathy in behalf of theinhabitants,Idesignheretogiveahistoryofthecalamitouseventswhichhavesolatelyoccurredwithinitslimits.Noonewhoknowsmewilldoubtthatthedutythusself-imposedwillbeexecutedtothebestofmyability,withallthatrigid impartiality, all that cautious examination into facts, and diligentcollationofauthorities,whichshouldeverdistinguishhimwhoaspirestothe

titleofhistorian.Bytheunitedaidofmedals,manuscripts,andinscriptions,Iamenabledto

say, positively, that the borough ofVondervotteimittiss has existed, from itsorigin, in precisely the same conditionwhich it at present preserves.Of thedateofthisorigin,however,IgrievethatIcanonlyspeakwiththatspeciesofindefinite definitenesswhichmathematicians are, at times, forced to put upwithincertainalgebraicformulae.Thedate,Imaythussay, inregardtotheremoteness of its antiquity, cannot be less than any assignable quantitywhatsoever.Touching thederivationof thenameVondervotteimittiss, Iconfessmyself,

withsorrow,equallyatfault.Amongamultitudeofopinionsuponthisdelicatepoint—someacute,somelearned,somesufficientlythereverse—Iamabletoselectnothingwhichought tobeconsideredsatisfactory.Perhaps the ideaofGrogswigg—nearly coincident with that of Kroutaplenttey—is to becautiouslypreferred.—Itruns:—"Vondervotteimittis—Vonder, legeDonder—Votteimittis, quasi und Bleitziz—Bleitziz obsol:—pro Blitzen." Thisderivative,tosaythetruth,isstillcountenancedbysometracesoftheelectricfluidevidentonthesummitofthesteepleoftheHouseoftheTown-Council.Idonotchoose,however,tocommitmyselfonathemeofsuchimportance,andmust refer the reader desirous of information to the "Oratiunculae deRebusPraeter-Veteris," of Dundergutz. See, also, Blunderbuzzard "DeDerivationibus,"pp.27to5010,Folio,Gothicedit.,RedandBlackcharacter,Catch-word and No Cypher; wherein consult, also, marginal notes in theautographofStuffundpuff,withtheSub-CommentariesofGruntundguzzell.Notwithstanding the obscurity which thus envelops the date of the

foundationofVondervotteimittis,andthederivationofitsname,therecanbenodoubt,asIsaidbefore,thatithasalwaysexistedaswefinditatthisepoch.Theoldestmanintheboroughcanremembernottheslightestdifferenceintheappearance of any portion of it; and, indeed, the very suggestion of such apossibility is considered an insult. The site of the village is in a perfectlycircular valley, about a quarter of a mile in circumference, and entirelysurrounded by gentle hills, over whose summit the people have never yetventured topass.For this theyassign theverygood reason that theydonotbelievethereisanythingatallontheotherside.Round the skirtsof thevalley (which isquite level, andpaved throughout

withflattiles),extendsacontinuousrowofsixtylittlehouses.These,havingtheirbacksonthehills,mustlook,ofcourse,tothecentreoftheplain,whichis just sixty yards from the front door of each dwelling. Every house has asmall garden before it, with a circular path, a sun-dial, and twenty-fourcabbages.Thebuildingsthemselvesaresopreciselyalike,thatonecaninnomannerbedistinguishedfromtheother.Owingtothevastantiquity,thestyleofarchitectureissomewhatodd,butitisnotforthatreasonthelessstrikingly

picturesque.They are fashioned of hard-burned little bricks, red,with blackends,sothatthewallslooklikeachess-boarduponagreatscale.Thegablesare turned to the front, and there are cornices, as big as all the rest of thehouse,overtheeavesandoverthemaindoors.Thewindowsarenarrowanddeep, with very tiny panes and a great deal of sash. On the roof is a vastquantityoftileswithlongcurlyears.Thewoodwork,throughout,isofadarkhueandthereismuchcarvingaboutit,withbutatriflingvarietyofpatternfor,timeoutofmind, thecarversofVondervotteimittisshaveneverbeenable tocarvemorethantwoobjects—atime-pieceandacabbage.Butthesetheydoexceedinglywell,andinterspersethem,withsingularingenuity,wherevertheyfindroomforthechisel.Thedwellingsareasmuchalikeinsideasout,andthefurnitureisallupon

oneplan.Thefloorsareofsquaretiles,thechairsandtablesofblack-lookingwoodwiththincrookedlegsandpuppyfeet.Themantelpiecesarewideandhigh, andhavenot only time-pieces and cabbages sculpturedover the front,but a real time-piece, which makes a prodigious ticking, on the top in themiddle,withaflower-potcontainingacabbagestandingoneachextremitybyway of outrider.Between each cabbage and the time-piece, again, is a littleChinamanhavingalargestomachwithagreatroundholeinit,throughwhichisseenthedial-plateofawatch.The fireplaces are large and deep, with fierce crooked-looking fire-dogs.

There isconstantlya rousing fire,andahugepotover it, fullof sauer-krautandpork,towhichthegoodwomanofthehouseisalwaysbusyinattending.Sheisalittlefatoldlady,withblueeyesandaredface,andwearsahugecaplikeasugar-loaf,ornamentedwithpurpleandyellowribbons.Herdressisoforange-colored linsey-woolsey,made very full behind and very short in thewaist—andindeedveryshortinotherrespects,notreachingbelowthemiddleofher leg.This is somewhat thick,andsoareherankles,but shehasa finepair of green stockings to cover them. Her shoes—of pink leather—arefastenedeachwithabunchofyellowribbonspuckeredup in theshapeofacabbage.InherlefthandshehasalittleheavyDutchwatch;inherrightshewieldsaladleforthesauerkrautandpork.Byhersidetherestandsafattabbycat, with a gilt toy-repeater tied to its tail, which "the boys" have therefastenedbywayofaquiz.Theboysthemselvesare,allthreeofthem,inthegardenattendingthepig.

They are each two feet in height. They have three-cornered cocked hats,purplewaistcoatsreachingdowntotheir thighs,buckskinknee-breeches,redstockings,heavyshoeswithbig silverbuckles, long surtout coatswith largebuttons of mother-of-pearl. Each, too, has a pipe in his mouth, and a littledumpywatchinhisrighthand.Hetakesapuffandalook,andthenalookandapuff.Thepig—whichiscorpulentandlazy—isoccupiednowinpickingupthestrayleavesthatfallfromthecabbages,andnowingivingakickbehindat

thegiltrepeater,whichtheurchinshavealsotiedtohistailinordertomakehimlookashandsomeasthecat.Rightatthefrontdoor,inahigh-backedleather-bottomedarmedchair,with

crookedlegsandpuppyfeetlikethetables,isseatedtheoldmanofthehousehimself.Heisanexceedinglypuffylittleoldgentleman,withbigcirculareyesandahugedoublechin.Hisdressresemblesthatoftheboys—andIneedsaynothingfartheraboutit.Allthedifferenceis,thathispipeissomewhatbiggerthantheirsandhecanmakeagreatersmoke.Likethem,hehasawatch,buthecarrieshiswatchinhispocket.Tosaythetruth,hehassomethingofmoreimportance than a watch to attend to—and what that is, I shall presentlyexplain. He sits with his right leg upon his left knee, wears a gravecountenance,andalwayskeepsoneofhiseyes,atleast,resolutelybentuponacertainremarkableobjectinthecentreoftheplain.ThisobjectissituatedinthesteepleoftheHouseoftheTownCouncil.The

TownCouncilareallverylittle, round,oily, intelligentmen,withbigsaucereyes and fatdouble chins, andhave their coatsmuch longer and their shoe-buckles much bigger than the ordinary inhabitants of Vondervotteimittiss.Sincemysojournintheborough,theyhavehadseveralspecialmeetings,andhaveadoptedthesethreeimportantresolutions:"Thatitiswrongtoalterthegoodoldcourseofthings:""ThatthereisnothingtolerableoutofVondervotteimittiss:"and—"Thatwewillstickbyourclocksandourcabbages."Above thesession-roomof theCouncil is thesteeple,and in thesteeple is

the belfry, where exists, and has existed time out of mind, the pride andwonderofthevillage—thegreatclockoftheboroughofVondervotteimittiss.Andthisistheobjecttowhichtheeyesoftheoldgentlemenareturnedwhositintheleather-bottomedarm-chairs.The great clock has seven faces—one in each of the seven sides of the

steeple—sothatitcanbereadilyseenfromallquarters.Itsfacesarelargeandwhite,anditshandsheavyandblack.Thereisabelfry-manwhosesoledutyistoattendtoit;butthisdutyisthemostperfectofsinecures—fortheclockofVondervotteimittiswasneveryetknown tohaveanything thematterwith it.Until lately, the bare supposition of such a thing was considered heretical.From the remotest period of antiquity towhich the archives have reference,thehourshavebeenregularlystruckbythebigbell.And,indeedthecasewasjustthesamewithalltheotherclocksandwatchesintheborough.Neverwassuchaplaceforkeepingthetruetime.Whenthelargeclapperthoughtproperto say "Twelve o'clock!" all its obedient followers opened their throatssimultaneously, and responded like a very echo. In short, the goodburgherswerefondoftheirsauer-kraut,butthentheywereproudoftheirclocks.Allpeoplewhoholdsinecureofficesareheldinmoreorlessrespect,andas

thebelfry—manofVondervotteimittisshasthemostperfectofsinecures,heisthemostperfectlyrespectedofanymanintheworld.Heisthechiefdignitaryof the borough, and the very pigs look up to him with a sentiment ofreverence. His coat-tail is very far longer—his pipe, his shoe—buckles, hiseyes,andhisstomach,veryfarbigger—thanthoseofanyotheroldgentlemaninthevillage;andastohischin,itisnotonlydouble,buttriple.IhavethuspaintedthehappyestateofVondervotteimittiss:alas,thatsofair

apictureshouldeverexperienceareverse!Therehasbeen longa sayingamong thewisest inhabitants, that "nogood

cancomefromoverthehills";anditreallyseemedthatthewordshadinthemsomethingofthespiritofprophecy.Itwantedfiveminutesofnoon,onthedaybefore yesterday, when there appeared a very odd-looking object on thesummitoftheridgeoftheeastward.Suchanoccurrence,ofcourse,attracteduniversal attention, and every little old gentleman who sat in a leather-bottomed arm-chair turned one of his eyeswith a stare of dismay upon thephenomenon,stillkeepingtheotherupontheclockinthesteeple.By the time that itwanted only threeminutes to noon, the droll object in

questionwasperceived to be a verydiminutive foreign-lookingyoungman.Hedescendedthehillsatagreatrate,sothateverybodyhadsoonagoodlookathim.HewasreallythemostfinickylittlepersonagethathadeverbeenseeninVondervotteimittiss.Hiscountenancewasofadarksnuff-color,andhehada long hooked nose, pea eyes, awidemouth, and an excellent set of teeth,whichlatterheseemedanxiousofdisplaying,ashewasgrinningfromeartoear.Whatwithmustachiosandwhiskers,therewasnoneoftherestofhisfacetobeseen.Hisheadwasuncovered,andhishairneatlydoneupinpapillotes.His dress was a tight-fitting swallow-tailed black coat (from one of whosepocketsdangledavastlengthofwhitehandkerchief),blackkerseymereknee-breeches,blackstockings,andstumpy-lookingpumps,withhugebunchesofblacksatinribbonforbows.Underonearmhecarriedahugechapeau-de-bras,andundertheotherafiddlenearlyfivetimesasbigashimself.Inhislefthandwas a gold snuff-box, fromwhich, as he capered down the hill, cutting allmanneroffantasticsteps,hetooksnuffincessantlywithanairofthegreatestpossible self-satisfaction. God bless me!—here was a sight for the honestburghersofVondervotteimittiss!Tospeakplainly,thefellowhad,inspiteofhisgrinning,anaudaciousand

sinisterkindofface;andashecurvettedrightintothevillage,theoldstumpyappearanceofhispumpsexcitednolittlesuspicion;andmanyaburgherwhobeheld him that daywould have given a trifle for a peep beneath thewhitecambric handkerchief which hung so obtrusively from the pocket of hisswallow-tailedcoat.Butwhatmainlyoccasionedarighteousindignationwas,that the scoundrellypopinjay,whilehe cut a fandangohere, and awhirligigthere,didnotseemtohavetheremotest ideaintheworldofsuchathingas

keepingtimeinhissteps.Thegoodpeopleoftheboroughhadscarcelyachance,however,togettheir

eyesthoroughlyopen,when,justasitwantedhalfaminuteofnoon,therascalbounced, as I say, right into themidst of them; gave a chassez here, and abalancezthere;andthen,afterapirouetteandapas-de-zephyr,pigeon-wingedhimselfrightupintothebelfryoftheHouseoftheTownCouncil,wherethewonder-strickenbelfry-mansatsmokinginastateofdignityanddismay.Butthe little chap seized him at once by the nose; gave it a swing and a pull;clappedthebigchapeaude-brasuponhishead;knockeditdownoverhiseyesandmouth;andthen,liftingupthebigfiddle,beathimwithitsolongandsosoundly, thatwhatwith thebelfry-manbeing so fat, and the fiddlebeing sohollow, you would have sworn that there was a regiment of double-bassdrummers all beating the devil's tattoo up in the belfry of the steeple ofVondervotteimittiss.There isnoknowing towhatdesperate actofvengeance thisunprincipled

attackmight have aroused the inhabitants, but for the important fact that itnowwantedonlyhalfasecondofnoon.Thebellwasabout tostrike,and itwas amatter of absolute and pre-eminent necessity that every body shouldlookwellathiswatch. Itwasevident,however, that justat thismoment thefellowinthesteeplewasdoingsomethingthathehadnobusinesstodowiththeclock.Butasitnowbegantostrike,nobodyhadanytimetoattendtohismanoeuvres,fortheyhadalltocountthestrokesofthebellasitsounded."One!"saidtheclock."Von!" echoed every little old gentleman in every leather-bottomed arm-

chairinVondervotteimittiss."Von!"saidhiswatchalso;"von!"saidthewatchof his vrow; and "von!" said the watches of the boys, and the little giltrepeatersonthetailsofthecatandpig."Two!"continuedthebigbell;and"Doo!"repeatedalltherepeaters."Three!Four!Five!Six!Seven!Eight!Nine!Ten!"saidthebell."Dree!Vour!Fibe!Sax!Seben!Aight!Noin!Den!"answeredtheothers."Eleven!"saidthebigone."Eleben!"assentedthelittleones."Twelve!"saidthebell."Dvelf!"theyrepliedperfectlysatisfied,anddroppingtheirvoices."Unddvelfitis!"saidallthelittleoldgentlemen,puttinguptheirwatches.

Butthebigbellhadnotdonewiththemyet."Thirteen!"saidhe."DerTeufel!" gasped the little old gentlemen, turning pale, dropping their

pipes,andputtingdownalltheirrightlegsfromovertheirleftknees.

"Der Teufel!" groaned they, "Dirteen! Dirteen!!—MeinGott, it is Dirteeno'clock!!"Why attempt to describe the terrible scene which ensued? All

Vondervotteimittissflewatonceintoalamentablestateofuproar."Votiscum'dtomeinpelly?"roaredalltheboys—"I'vebeenongryfordis

hour!""Votiscom'dtomeinkraut?"screamedallthevrows,"Ithasbeendoneto

ragsforthishour!""Votiscum'dtomeinpipe?"sworeallthelittleoldgentlemen,"Donderand

Blitzen;ithasbeensmokedoutfordishour!"—andtheyfilledthemupagaininagreatrage,andsinkingbackintheirarm-chairs,puffedawaysofastandso fiercely that the whole valley was immediately filled with impenetrablesmoke.Meantime thecabbagesall turnedveryred in theface,and it seemedas if

old Nick himself had taken possession of every thing in the shape of atimepiece. The clocks carved upon the furniture took to dancing as ifbewitched, while those upon the mantel-pieces could scarcely containthemselvesforfury,andkeptsuchacontinualstrikingofthirteen,andsuchafriskingandwrigglingof theirpendulumsaswas reallyhorrible tosee.But,worsethanall,neitherthecatsnorthepigscouldputupanylongerwiththebehaviorofthelittlerepeaterstiedtotheirtails,andresenteditbyscamperingallover theplace,scratchingandpoking,andsqueakingandscreeching,andcaterwauling and squalling, and flying into the faces, and runningunder thepetticoatsofthepeople,andcreatingaltogetherthemostabominabledinandconfusion which it is possible for a reasonable person to conceive. And tomakemattersstillmoredistressing,therascallylittlescape-graceinthesteeplewasevidentlyexertinghimselftotheutmost.Everynowandthenonemightcatchaglimpseofthescoundrelthroughthesmoke.Therehesatinthebelfryuponthebelfry-man,whowaslyingflatuponhisback.Inhisteeththevillainheld thebell-rope,whichhekept jerkingaboutwithhishead, raisingsuchaclatterthatmyearsringagaineventothinkofit.Onhislaplaythebigfiddle,atwhichhewasscraping,outofalltimeandtune,withbothhands,makingagreat show, the nincompoop! of playing "Judy O'Flannagan and PaddyO'Rafferty."Affairs being thusmiserably situated, I left the place in disgust, and now

appealforaidtoallloversofcorrecttimeandfinekraut.Letusproceedinabody to the borough, and restore the ancient order of things inVondervotteimittissbyejectingthatlittlefellowfromthesteeple.

LIONIZING

————allpeoplewent

Upontheirtentoesinwildwonderment.

—BishopHall'sSatires.

I am—that is to say I was—a great man; but I am neither the author ofJuniusnorthemaninthemask;formyname,Ibelieve,isRobertJones,andIwasbornsomewhereinthecityofFum-Fudge.Thefirstactionofmylifewasthetakingholdofmynosewithbothhands.

My mother saw this and called me a genius: my father wept for joy andpresented me with a treatise on Nosology. This I mastered before I wasbreeched.I nowbegan to feelmyway in the science, and soon came to understand

that,providedamanhadanosesufficientlyconspicuoushemight,bymerelyfollowing it, arrive at a Lionship. But my attention was not confined totheories alone. Every morning I gave my proboscis a couple of pulls andswallowedahalfdozenofdrams.WhenIcameofagemyfatheraskedme,oneday,IfIwouldstepwithhim

intohisstudy."My son," said he, whenwewere seated, "what is the chief end of your

existence?""Myfather,"Ianswered,"itisthestudyofNosology.""Andwhat,Robert,"heinquired,"isNosology?""Sir,"Isaid,"itistheScienceofNoses.""Andcanyoutellme,"hedemanded,"whatisthemeaningofanose?""Anose,myfather;"Ireplied,greatlysoftened,"hasbeenvariouslydefined

by about a thousand different authors." [Here I pulled outmywatch.] "It isnow noon or thereabouts—we shall have time enough to get through withthem all before midnight. To commence then:—The nose, according toBartholinus,isthatprotuberance—thatbump—thatexcrescence—that—""Willdo,Robert,"interruptedthegoodoldgentleman."Iamthunderstruck

attheextentofyourinformation—Iampositively—uponmysoul."[Hereheclosedhiseyesandplacedhishanduponhisheart.] "Comehere!" [Herehetookmebythearm.]"Youreducationmaynowbeconsideredasfinished—itishightimeyoushouldscuffleforyourself—andyoucannotdoabetterthingthan merely follow your nose—so—so—so—" [Here he kicked me downstairsandoutofthedoor]—"sogetoutofmyhouse,andGodblessyou!"As I felt within me the divine afflatus, I considered this accident rather

fortunate than otherwise. I resolved to be guided by the paternal advice. Ideterminedtofollowmynose.Igaveitapullortwouponthespot,andwroteapamphletonNosologyforthwith.AllFum-Fudgewasinanuproar.

"Wonderfulgenius!"saidtheQuarterly."Superbphysiologist!"saidtheWestminster."Cleverfellow!"saidtheForeign."Finewriter!"saidtheEdinburgh."Profoundthinker!"saidtheDublin."Greatman!"saidBentley."Divinesoul!"saidFraser."Oneofus!"saidBlackwood."Whocanhebe?"saidMrs.Bas-Bleu."Whatcanhebe?"saidbigMissBas-Bleu."Wherecanhebe?"saidlittleMissBas-Bleu.—ButIpaidthesepeopleno

attentionwhatever—Ijuststeppedintotheshopofanartist.TheDuchessofBless-my-Soulwassitting forherportrait; theMarquisof

So-and-Sowas holding theDuchess' poodle; the Earl of This-and-Thatwasflirtingwithhersalts;andhisRoyalHighnessofTouch-me-Notwas leaninguponthebackofherchair.Iapproachedtheartistandturnedupmynose."Oh,beautiful!"sighedherGrace."Ohmy!"lispedtheMarquis."Oh,shocking!"groanedtheEarl."Oh,abominable!"growledhisRoyalHighness."Whatwillyoutakeforit?"askedtheartist."Forhisnose!"shoutedherGrace."Athousandpounds,"saidI,sittingdown."Athousandpounds?"inquiredtheartist,musingly."Athousandpounds,"saidI."Beautiful!"saidhe,entranced."Athousandpounds,"saidI."Doyouwarrantit?"heasked,turningthenosetothelight."Ido,"saidI,blowingitwell."Isitquiteoriginal?"heinquired;touchingitwithreverence."Humph!"saidI,twistingittooneside."Hasnocopybeentaken?"hedemanded,surveyingitthroughamicroscope."None,"saidI,turningitup."Admirable!"heejaculated,thrownquiteoffhisguardbythebeautyofthe

manoeuvre."Athousandpounds,"saidI.

"Athousandpounds?"saidhe."Precisely,"saidI."Athousandpounds?"saidhe."Justso,"saidI."Youshallhave them,"saidhe."Whatapieceofvirtu!"Sohedrewmea

checkuponthespot,andtookasketchofmynose.IengagedroomsinJermynstreet,andsentherMajestytheninety-nintheditionofthe"Nosology,"withaportraitoftheproboscis.—Thatsadlittlerake,thePrinceofWales,invitedmetodinner.Wewerealllionsandrecherchés.There was a modern Platonist. He quoted Porphyry, Iamblicus, Plotinus,

Proclus,Hierocles,MaximusTyrius,andSyrianus.There was a human-perfectibility man. He quoted Turgot, Price, Priestly,

Condorcet,DeStael,andthe"AmbitiousStudentinIllHealth."There was Sir Positive Paradox. He observed that all fools were

philosophers,andthatallphilosopherswerefools.TherewasÆstheticusEthix.Hespokeoffire,unity,andatoms;bi-partand

pre-existentsoul;affinityanddiscord;primitiveintelligenceandhomöomeria.TherewasTheologosTheology.HetalkedofEusebiusandArianus;heresy

and the Council of Nice; Puseyism and consubstantialism; Homousios andHomouioisios.TherewasFricasséefromtheRocherdeCancale.HementionedMuritonof

redtongue;cauliflowerswithveloutésauce;vealàlaSt.Menehoult;marinadeàlaSt.Florentin;andorangejelliesenmosäiques.TherewasBibulusO'Bumper.He toucheduponLatour andMarkbrünnen;

upon Mousseux and Chambertin; upon Richbourg and St. George; uponHaubrion,Leonville,andMedoc;uponBaracandPreignac;uponGrâve,uponSauterne, upon Lafitte, and upon St. Peray. He shook his head at Clos deVougeot, and told, with his eyes shut, the difference between Sherry andAmontillado.TherewasSignorTintontintinofromFlorence.HediscoursedofCimabué,

Arpino, Carpaccio, and Argostino—of the gloom of Caravaggio, of theamenityofAlbano,ofthecolorsofTitian,ofthefrowsofRubens,andofthewaggeriesofJanSteen.Therewas thePresident of theFum-FudgeUniversity.Hewas of opinion

thatthemoonwascalledBendisinThrace,BubastisinEgypt,DianinRome,andArtemisinGreece.TherewasaGrandTurkfromStamboul.Hecouldnothelpthinkingthattheangelswerehorses,cocks,andbulls;thatsomebodyinthesixthheavenhadseventythousandheads;andthattheearthwassupportedbyasky-bluecowwithanincalculablenumberofgreenhorns.

TherewasDelphinusPolyglott.Hetolduswhathadbecomeoftheeighty-three lost tragedies ofÆschylus; of the fifty-four orations of Isæus; of thethreehundred andninety-one speechesofLysias; of thehundred and eightytreatises of Theophrastus; of the eighth book of the conic sections ofApollonius; of Pindar's hymns and dithyrambics; and of the five and fortytragediesofHomerJunior.There was Ferdinand Fitz-Fossillus Feltspar. He informed us all about

internal fires and tertiary formations; about äeriforms, fluidiforms, andsolidiforms;aboutquartzandmarl;aboutschistandschorl;aboutgypsumandtrap;abouttalcandcalc;aboutblendeandhorn-blende;aboutmica-slateandpudding-stone; about cyanite and lepidolite; about hematite and tremolite;aboutantimonyandcalcedony;aboutmanganeseandwhateveryouplease.Therewasmyself.Ispokeofmyself;—ofmyself,ofmyself,ofmyself;—of

Nosology,ofmypamphlet,andofmyself.Iturnedupmynose,andIspokeofmyself."Marvellouscleverman!"saidthePrince."Superb!" saidhisguests:—andnextmorningherGraceofBless-my-Soul

paidmeavisit."WillyougotoAlmack's,prettycreature?"shesaid, tappingmeunderthe

chin."Uponhonor,"saidI."Noseandall?"sheasked."AsIlive,"Ireplied."Herethenisacard,mylife.ShallIsayyouwillbethere?""DearDuchess,withallmyheart.""Pshaw,no!—butwithallyournose?""Every bit of it, my love," said I: so I gave it a twist or two, and found

myselfatAlmack's.Theroomswerecrowdedtosuffocation."Heiscoming!"saidsomebodyonthestaircase."Heiscoming!"saidsomebodyfartherup."Heiscoming!"saidsomebodyfartherstill."Heiscome!"exclaimedtheDuchess."Heiscome, the little love!"—and,

seizing me firmly by both hands, she kissed me thrice upon the nose. Amarkedsensationimmediatelyensued."Diavolo!"criedCountCapricornutti."Diosguarda!"mutteredDonStiletto."Milletonnerres!"ejaculatedthePrincedeGrenouille."Tousandteufel!"growledtheElectorofBluddennuff.Itwasnottobeborne.Igrewangry.IturnedshortuponBluddennuff.

"Sir!"saidItohim,"youareababoon.""Sir,"hereplied,afterapause,"DonnerundBlitzen!"Thiswasallthatcouldbedesired.Weexchangedcards.AtChalk-Farm,the

nextmorning,Ishotoffhisnose—andthencalleduponmyfriends."Bête!"saidthefirst."Fool!"saidthesecond."Dolt!"saidthethird."Ass!"saidthefourth."Ninny!"saidthefifth."Noodle!"saidthesixth."Beoff!"saidtheseventh.AtallthisIfeltmortified,andsocalleduponmyfather."Father,"Iasked,"whatisthechiefendofmyexistence?""My son," he replied, "it is still the study ofNosology; but in hitting the

Electoruponthenoseyouhaveovershotyourmark.Youhaveafinenose,itistrue;butthenBluddennuffhasnone.Youaredamned,andhehasbecomethehero of the day. I grant you that inFum-Fudge the greatness of a lion is inproportion to the size of his proboscis—but, good heavens! there is nocompetingwithalionwhohasnoproboscisatall."

X-INGAPARAGRAPH

AS it iswell known that the 'wisemen' came 'from theEast,' and asMr.Touch-and-goBullet-headcamefromtheEast,itfollowsthatMr.Bullet-headwasawiseman;andifcollateralproofofthematterbeneeded,herewehaveit—Mr. B. was an editor. Irascibility was his sole foible, for in fact theobstinacy of whichmen accused himwas anything but his foible, since hejustlyconsideredithisforte.Itwashisstrongpoint—hisvirtue;anditwouldhaverequiredallthelogicofaBrownsontoconvincehimthatitwas'anythingelse.'IhaveshownthatTouch-and-goBullet-headwasawiseman;andtheonly

occasion on which he did not prove infallible, was when, abandoning thatlegitimate home for all wise men, the East, he migrated to the city ofAlexander-the-Great-o-nopolis,orsomeplaceofasimilartitle,outWest.Imustdohimthe justice tosay,however, thatwhenhemadeuphismind

finally tosettle in that town, itwasunder the impression thatnonewspaper,andconsequentlynoeditor,existedinthatparticularsectionofthecountry.Inestablishing 'TheTea-Pot' heexpected tohave the fieldall tohimself. I feel

confident he never would have dreamed of taking up his residence inAlexander-the-Great-o-nopolis had he been aware that, in Alexander-the-Great-o-nopolis, there lived a gentleman named John Smith (if I rightlyremember), who formany years had there quietly grown fat in editing andpublishing the 'Alexander-the-Great-o-nopolis Gazette.' It was solely,therefore,onaccountofhavingbeenmisinformed,thatMr.Bullet-headfoundhimself in Alex-suppose we call it Nopolis, 'for short'—but, as he did findhimselfthere,hedeterminedtokeepuphischaracterforobst—forfirmness,andremain.Soremainhedid;andhedidmore;heunpackedhispress,type,etc.,etc.,rentedanofficeexactlyoppositetothatofthe'Gazette,'and,onthethirdmorningafterhisarrival,issuedthefirstnumberof'TheAlexan'—thatisto say, of 'The Nopolis Tea-Pot'—as nearly as I can recollect, this was thenameofthenewpaper.The leading article, Imust admit,was brilliant—not to say severe. Itwas

especiallybitteraboutthingsingeneral—andasfortheeditorof'TheGazette,'he was torn all to pieces in particular. Some of Bullethead's remarks werereally so fiery that I have always, since that time, been forced to lookuponJohnSmith,whoisstillalive,inthelightofasalamander.Icannotpretendtogiveallthe'Tea-Pot's'paragraphsverbatim,butoneofthemrunsthus:'Oh, yes!—Oh, we perceive! Oh, no doubt! The editor over the way is a

genius—O,my!Oh,goodness,gracious!—whatisthisworldcomingto?Oh,tempora!Oh,Moses!'A philippic at once so caustic and so classical, alighted like a bombshell

amongthehithertopeacefulcitizensofNopolis.Groupsofexcitedindividualsgathered at the corners of the streets. Every one awaited, with heartfeltanxiety,thereplyofthedignifiedSmith.Nextmorningitappearedasfollows:'Wequote from "TheTea-Pot" of yesterday the subjoinedparagraph: "Oh,

yes!Oh,weperceive!Oh,nodoubt!Oh,my!Oh,goodness!Oh,tempora!Oh,Moses!"Why,thefellowisallO!Thataccountsforhisreasoninginacircle,andexplainswhythereisneitherbeginningnorendtohim,nortoanythinghesays.Wereallydonotbelievethevagabondcanwriteawordthathasn'tanOin it.Wonder if thisO-ing is ahabit ofhis?By-the-by,he cameaway fromDown-Eastinagreathurry.WonderifheO'sasmuchthereashedoeshere?"O!itispitiful."'TheindignationofMr.Bullet-headatthesescandalousinsinuations,Ishall

not attempt to describe. On the eel-skinning principle, however, he did notseemtobesomuchincensedattheattackuponhisintegrityasonemighthaveimagined.Itwasthesneerathisstylethatdrovehimtodesperation.What!—heTouch-and-goBullet-head!—not able towrite awordwithout anO in it!Hewouldsoonletthejackanapesseethathewasmistaken.Yes!hewouldlethim see howmuch he wasmistaken, the puppy! He, Touch-and-go Bullet-head,ofFrogpondium,wouldletMr.JohnSmithperceivethathe,Bullet-head,

couldindite,ifitsopleasedhim,awholeparagraph—aye!awholearticle—inwhich that contemptible vowel should not once—not even once—make itsappearance.Butno;—thatwouldbeyieldingapoint to thesaidJohnSmith.He,Bullet-head,wouldmakenoalterationinhisstyle,tosuitthecapricesofanyMr.Smith inChristendom.Perish sovile a thought!TheO forever;HewouldpersistintheO.HewouldbeasO-wyasO-wycouldbe.Burningwiththechivalryofthisdetermination,thegreatTouch-and-go,in

thenext'Tea-Pot,'cameoutmerelywiththissimplebutresoluteparagraph,inreferencetothisunhappyaffair:'The editor of the "Tea-Pot" has the honor of advising the editor of the

"Gazette" that he (the "Tea-Pot") will take an opportunity in tomorrowmorning's paper, of convincing him (the "Gazette") that he (the "Tea-Pot")both can and will be his own master, as regards style; he (the "Tea-Pot")intendingtoshowhim(the"Gazette")thesupreme,andindeedthewitheringcontempt with which the criticism of him (the "Gazette") inspires theindependent bosom of him (the "TeaPot") by composing for the especialgratification (?) of him (the "Gazette") a leading article, of some extent, inwhich thebeautifulvowel—theemblemofEternity—yet sooffensive to thehyper-exquisite delicacy of him (the "Gazette") shall most certainly not beavoidedbyhis(the"Gazette's")mostobedient,humbleservant,the"Tea-Pot.""SomuchforBuckingham!"'Infulfilmentoftheawfulthreatthusdarklyintimatedratherthandecidedly

enunciated,thegreatBullet-head,turningadeafeartoallentreatiesfor'copy,'andsimplyrequestinghisforemanto'gotothed——l,'whenhe(theforeman)assuredhim(the'Tea-Pot'!)thatitwashightimeto'gotopress':turningadeafear to everything, I say, the great Bullet-head sat up until day-break,consuming the midnight oil, and absorbed in the composition of the reallyunparalleledparagraph,whichfollows:—'Soho,John!hownow?Toldyouso,youknow.Don'tcrow,another time,

beforeyou'reoutof thewoods!Doesyourmotherknowyou'reout?Oh,no,no!—sogohomeatonce,now,John, toyourodiousoldwoodsofConcord!Gohometoyourwoods,oldowl—go!Youwon't!Oh,poh,poh,don'tdoso!You've got to go, you know! So go at once, and don't go slow, for nobodyownsyouhere,youknow!Oh!John,John,ifyoudon'tgoyou'renohomo—no!You'reonlyafowl,anowl,acow,asow,—adoll,apoll;apoor,old,good-for-nothing-to-nobody, log, dog, hog, or frog, come out of a Concord bog.Cool, now—cool! Do be cool, you fool! None of your crowing, old cock!Don'tfrownso—don't!Don'thollo,norhowlnorgrowl,norbow-wow-wow!GoodLord,John,howyoudolook!Toldyouso,youknow—butstoprollingyourgooseofanoldpollaboutso,andgoanddrownyoursorrowsinabowl!'Exhausted,verynaturally,bysostupendousaneffort,thegreatTouch-and-

gocouldattendtonothingfartherthatnight.Firmly,composedly,yetwithan

airofconsciouspower,hehandedhisMS. to thedevil inwaiting,and then,walkingleisurelyhome,retired,withineffabledignitytobed.Meantime the devil, towhom the copywas entrusted, ran up stairs to his

'case,'inanunutterablehurry,andforthwithmadeacommencementat'setting'theMS.'up.'In the first place, of course,—as the opening word was 'So,'—hemade a

plungeintothecapitalSholeandcameoutintriumphwithacapitalS.Elatedby this success, he immediately threw himself upon the little-o box with ablindfold impetuosity—but who shall describe his horror when his fingerscame up without the anticipated letter in their clutch? who shall paint hisastonishment and rage at perceiving, as he rubbedhis knuckles, that he hadbeenonlythumpingthemtonopurpose,againstthebottomofanemptybox.Not a single little-o was in the little-o hole; and, glancing fearfully at thecapital-Opartition,he found that tohisextreme terror, inapreciselysimilarpredicament.Awe—stricken,hisfirstimpulsewastorushtotheforeman.'Sir!'saidhe,gaspingforbreath,'Ican'tneversetupnothingwithoutnoo's.''What do youmean by that?' growled the foreman,whowas in a very ill

humoratbeingkeptsolate.'Why,sir,therebeantanointheoffice,neitherabigunnoralittleun!''What—whatthed-lhasbecomeofallthatwereinthecase?''Idon'tknow,sir,'saidtheboy, 'butoneof themere"G'zette"devils isbin

prowling 'bout here all night, and I spect he's gone and cabbaged 'emeveryone.''Dodrothim!Ihaven'tadoubtofit,'repliedtheforeman,gettingpurplewith

rage'butItellyouwhatyoudo,Bob,that'sagoodboy—yougooverthefirstchance you get and hook every one of their i's and (d——n them!) theirizzards.''Jistso,'repliedBob,withawinkandafrown—'I'llbeinto'em,I'lllet 'em

know a thing or two; but in demeantime, that ere paragrab?Mus go in to-night,youknow—elsethere'llbethed-ltopay,and-''Andnotabitofpitchhot,'interruptedtheforeman,withadeepsigh,andan

emphasisonthe'bit.''Isitalongparagraph,Bob?''Shouldn'tcallitawerylongparagrab,'saidBob.'Ah,well,then!dothebestyoucanwithit!Wemustgettopress,'saidthe

foreman,whowasoverheadandearsinwork;'juststickinsomeotherletterforo;nobody'sgoingtoreadthefellow'strashanyhow.''Wery well,' replied Bob, 'here goes it!' and off he hurried to his case,

mutteringashewent:'Considdeblevell,themereexpressions,perticclerforamanasdoesn't swar.So I's togougeout all their eyes, eh?andd-nall theirgizzards!Vell!thishere'sthechapasisjustablefortodoit.'Thefactisthat

althoughBobwasbuttwelveyearsoldandfourfeethigh,hewasequaltoanyamountoffight,inasmallway.Theexigencyheredescribedisbynomeansofrareoccurrenceinprinting-

offices;andIcannottellhowtoaccountforit,butthefactisindisputable,thatwhentheexigencydoesoccur,italmostalwayshappensthatxisadoptedasasubstitute for the letterdeficient.The truereason,perhaps, is thatx is ratherthemostsuperabundantletterinthecases,oratleastwassointheoldtimes—long enough to render the substitution in question an habitual thing withprinters. As for Bob, he would have considered it heretical to employ anyother character, in a case of this kind, than the x to which he had beenaccustomed.'Ishellhavetoxthisereparagrab,'saidhetohimself,ashereaditoverin

astonishment,'butit'sjestabouttheawfulesto-wyparagrabIeverdidsee':soxithedid,unflinchingly,andtopressitwentx-ed.NextmorningthepopulationofNopolisweretakenallabackbyreadingin

'TheTea-Pot,'thefollowingextraordinaryleader:'Sxhx,Jxhn!hxwnxw?Txldyxusx,yxuknxw.Dxn'tcrxw,anxthertime,

befxreyxu'rexutxf thewxxds!Dxesyxurmxtherknxwyxu'rexut?Xh,nx,nx!—sxgxhxmeatxnce,nxw,Jxhn, txyxurxdixusxldwxxdsxfCxncxrd!Gxhxmetxyxurwxxds,xldxwl,—gx!Yxuwxn't?Xh,pxh,pxh,Jxhn,dxn'tdx sx! Yxu've gxt tx gx, yxu knxw, sx gx at xnce, and dxn't gx slxw; fxrnxbxdyxwnsyxuhere,yxuknxw.Xh,Jxhn,Jxhn,Jxhn,ifyxudxn'tgxyxu'renxhxmx—nx!Yxu'rexnlyafxwl,anxwl;acxw,asxw;adxll,apxll;apxxrxldgxxd-fxr-nxthing-tx-nxbxdy,lxg,dxg,hxg,xrfrxg,cxmexutxfaCxncxrdbxg.Cxxl,nxw—cxxl!Dxbecxxl,yxufxxl!Nxnexfyxurcrxwing,xldcxck!Dxn'tfrxwnsx—dxn't!Dxn'thxllx,nxrhxwl,nxrgrxwl,nxrbxw-wxw-wxw!GxxdLxrd,Jxhn,hxwyxudxlxxk!Txldyxusx,yxuknxw,—butstxprxllingyxurgxxsexfanxldpxllabxutsx,andgxanddrxwnyxursxrrxwsinabxwl!'Theuproaroccasionedbythismysticalandcabalisticalarticle,isnottobe

conceived.Thefirstdefiniteideaentertainedbythepopulacewas, thatsomediabolicaltreasonlayconcealedinthehieroglyphics;andtherewasageneralrushtoBullet-head'sresidence,forthepurposeofridinghimonarail;butthatgentlemanwasnowheretobefound.Hehadvanished,noonecouldtellhow;andnoteventheghostofhimhaseverbeenseensince.Unabletodiscoveritslegitimateobject,thepopularfuryatlengthsubsided;

leavingbehind it, bywayof sediment, quite amedleyofopinionabout thisunhappyaffair.OnegentlemanthoughtthewholeanX-ellentjoke.Another said that, indeed, Bullet-head had shown much X-uberance of

fancy.AthirdadmittedhimX-entric,butnomore.

AfourthcouldonlysupposeittheYankee'sdesigntoX-press,inageneralway,hisX-asperation.'Say,rather,tosetanX-ampletoposterity,'suggestedafifth.ThatBullet-headhadbeendriven to an extremity,was clear to all; and in

fact,sincethateditorcouldnotbefound,therewassometalkaboutlynchingtheotherone.Themorecommonconclusion,however,wasthattheaffairwas,simply,X-

traordinaryandin-X-plicable.Eventhetownmathematicianconfessedthathecould make nothing of so dark a problem. X, every. body knew, was anunknown quantity; but in this case (as he properly observed), there was anunknownquantityofX.The opinion ofBob, the devil (who kept dark about his having 'X-ed the

paragrab'),didnotmeetwithsomuchattentionasIthinkitdeserved,althoughitwasveryopenlyandveryfearlesslyexpressed.Hesaidthat,forhispart,hehadnodoubtaboutthematteratall,thatitwasaclearcase,thatMr.Bullet-head 'never could be persuaded fur to drink like other folks, but vascontinually a-svigging o' that ere blessed XXX ale, and as a naiteralconsekvence,itjustpuffedhimupsavage,andmadehimX(cross)intheX-treme.'

METZENGERSTEIN

Pestiseramvivus—morienstuamorsero.

—MartinLuther

HORRORandfatalityhavebeenstalkingabroadinallages.Whythengivea date to this story I have to tell?Let it suffice to say, that at the periodofwhich I speak, there existed, in the interior of Hungary, a settled althoughhidden belief in the doctrines of the Metempsychosis. Of the doctrinesthemselves—that is, of their falsity, or of their probability—I say nothing. Iassert,however, thatmuchofour incredulity—asLaBruyèresaysofallourunhappiness—"vientdenepouvoirêtreseuls."But there are some points in the Hungarian superstition which were fast

verging to absurdity. They—the Hungarians—differed very essentially fromtheirEasternauthorities.Forexample,"Thesoul,"saidtheformer—IgivethewordsofanacuteandintelligentParisian—"nedemeurequ'unseulfoisdansuncorpssensible:aureste—uncheval,unchien,unhommemême,n'estquelaressemblancepeutangibledecesanimaux."The families of Berlifitzing andMetzengerstein had been at variance for

centuries.Neverbeforeweretwohousessoillustrious,mutuallyembitteredbyhostilitysodeadly.Theoriginofthisenmityseemstobefoundinthewordsof

anancientprophecy—"Aloftynameshallhaveafearfulfallwhen,astheriderover his horse, the mortality of Metzengerstein shall triumph over theimmortalityofBerlifitzing."Tobesurethewordsthemselveshadlittleornomeaning.Butmoretrivial

causeshavegivenrise—andthatnolongwhileago—toconsequencesequallyeventful. Besides, the estates, whichwere contiguous, had long exercised arivalinfluenceintheaffairsofabusygovernment.Moreover,nearneighborsareseldomfriends;and the inhabitantsof theCastleBerlifitzingmight look,from their lofty buttresses, into the very windows of the palaceMetzengerstein. Least of all had the more than feudal magnificence, thusdiscovered,atendencytoallaytheirritablefeelingsofthelessancientandlesswealthyBerlifitzings.Whatwonderthen,thatthewords,howeversilly,ofthatprediction, should have succeeded in setting and keeping at variance twofamilies already predisposed to quarrel by every instigation of hereditaryjealousy? The prophecy seemed to imply—if it implied anything—a finaltriumphon the part of the alreadymore powerful house; andwas of courserememberedwiththemorebitteranimositybytheweakerandlessinfluential.Wilhelm,CountBerlifitzing, although loftilydescended,was, at theepoch

ofthisnarrative,aninfirmanddotingoldman,remarkablefornothingbutaninordinateandinveteratepersonalantipathytothefamilyofhisrival,andsopassionatealoveofhorses,andofhunting,thatneitherbodilyinfirmity,greatage,normentalincapacity,preventedhisdailyparticipationinthedangersofthechase.Frederick,BaronMetzengerstein,was,ontheotherhand,notyetofage.His

father, theMinisterG—, died young.Hismother, the LadyMary, followedhimquicklyafter.Frederickwas,at that time, inhis fifteenthyear. Inacity,fifteen years are no long period—a child may be still a child in his thirdlustrum: but in a wilderness—in so magnificent a wilderness as that oldprincipality,fifteenyearshaveafardeepermeaning.Fromsomepeculiarcircumstancesattendingtheadministrationofhisfather,

theyoungBaron,atthedeceaseoftheformer,enteredimmediatelyuponhisvast possessions. Such estates were seldom held before by a nobleman ofHungary.Hiscastleswerewithoutnumber.Thechiefinpointofsplendorandextentwasthe"ChâteauMetzengerstein."Theboundarylineofhisdominionswas never clearly defined; but his principal park embraced a circuit of fiftymiles.Upon the succession of a proprietor so young, with a character so well

known, toafortunesounparalleled, littlespeculationwasafloat inregardtohisprobablecourseofconduct.And, indeed,for thespaceof threedays, thebehavioroftheheirout-herodedHerod,andfairlysurpassedtheexpectationsof his most enthusiastic admirers. Shameful debaucheries—flagranttreacheries—unheard-of atrocities—gave his trembling vassals quickly to

understand that no servile submission on their part—no punctilios ofconscienceonhisown—werethenceforwardtoproveanysecurityagainsttheremorseless fangs of a petty Caligula. On the night of the fourth day, thestables of the castle Berlifitzing were discovered to be on fire; and theunanimousopinionoftheneighborhoodaddedthecrimeoftheincendiarytothealreadyhideouslistoftheBaron'smisdemeanorsandenormities.Butduring the tumult occasionedby thisoccurrence, theyoungnobleman

himself sat apparently buried in meditation, in a vast and desolate upperapartment of the family palace ofMetzengerstein. The rich although fadedtapestry hangings which swung gloomily upon the walls, represented theshadowy andmajestic forms of a thousand illustrious ancestors.Here, rich-erminedpriests,andpontificaldignitaries,familiarlyseatedwiththeautocratandthesovereign,putavetoonthewishesofa temporalking,orrestrainedwith the fiat of papal supremacy the rebellious sceptre of the Arch-enemy.There, the dark, tall statures of the Princes Metzengerstein—theirmuscularwar-coursersplungingoverthecarcassesoffallenfoes—startledthesteadiest nerves with their vigorous expression; and here, again, thevoluptuousandswan-likefiguresofthedamesofdaysgoneby,floatedawayinthemazesofanunrealdancetothestrainsofimaginarymelody.Butas theBaron listened,oraffected to listen, to thegradually increasing

uproar in the stables of Berlifitzing—or perhaps pondered upon somemorenovel, some more decided act of audacity—his eyes became unwittinglyrivetted to the figure of an enormous, and unnaturally colored horse,representedinthetapestryasbelongingtoaSaracenancestorofthefamilyofhis rival.Thehorse itself, in the foregroundof thedesign, stoodmotionlessand statue-like—while farther back, its discomfited rider perished by thedaggerofaMetzengerstein.OnFrederick's lip arose a fiendish expression, as he became aware of the

directionwhich his glance had,without his consciousness, assumed.Yet hedid not remove it. On the contrary, he could by no means account for theoverwhelming anxietywhich appeared falling like a pall upon his senses. Itwaswithdifficultythathereconciledhisdreamyandincoherentfeelingswiththecertaintyofbeingawake.Thelongerhegazedthemoreabsorbingbecamethespell—themoreimpossiblediditappearthathecouldeverwithdrawhisglancefromthefascinationofthattapestry.Butthetumultwithoutbecomingsuddenlymoreviolent,withacompulsoryexertionhedivertedhisattentiontotheglareofruddylightthrownfullbytheflamingstablesuponthewindowsoftheapartment.Theaction,however,wasbutmomentary,hisgazereturnedmechanicallyto

the wall. To his extreme horror and astonishment, the head of the giganticsteedhad,inthemeantime,altereditsposition.Theneckoftheanimal,beforearched, as if in compassion, over the prostrate body of its lord, was now

extended, at full length, in the direction of the Baron. The eyes, beforeinvisible,nowworeanenergeticandhumanexpression,while theygleamedwithafieryandunusualred;andthedistendedlipsoftheapparentlyenragedhorseleftinfullviewhisgiganticanddisgustingteeth.Stupifiedwithterror,theyoungnoblemantotteredtothedoor.Ashethrewit

open, a flash of red light, streaming far into the chamber, flung his shadowwith a clear outline against the quivering tapestry, and he shuddered toperceivethatshadow—ashestaggeredawhileuponthethreshold—assumingthe exact position, andprecisely fillingup the contour, of the relentless andtriumphantmurdereroftheSaracenBerlifitzing.Tolightenthedepressionofhisspirits,theBaronhurriedintotheopenair.

Attheprincipalgateofthepalaceheencounteredthreeequerries.Withmuchdifficulty, and at the imminent peril of their lives, theywere restraining theconvulsiveplungesofagiganticandfiery-coloredhorse."Whose horse? Where did you get him?" demanded the youth, in a

querulous and husky tone of voice, as he became instantly aware that themysterious steed in the tapestried chamber was the very counterpart of thefuriousanimalbeforehiseyes."Heisyourownproperty,sire,"repliedoneoftheequerries,"atleastheis

claimedbynootherowner.Wecaughthimflying,all smokingand foamingwithrage,fromtheburningstablesoftheCastleBerlifitzing.SupposinghimtohavebelongedtotheoldCount'sstudofforeignhorses,weledhimbackasan estray. But the grooms there disclaim any title to the creature; which isstrange, sincehebearsevidentmarksofhavingmadeanarrowescape fromtheflames."The letters W. V. B. are also branded very distinctly on his forehead,"

interruptedasecondequerry,"Isupposedthem,ofcourse,tobetheinitialsofWilhelmVon Berlifitzing—but all at the castle are positive in denying anyknowledgeofthehorse.""Extremely singular!" said the young Baron, with a musing air, and

apparently unconscious of the meaning of his words. "He is, as you say, aremarkablehorse—aprodigioushorse!although,asyouvery justlyobserve,ofasuspiciousanduntractablecharacter,lethimbemine,however,"headded,after a pause, "perhaps a rider like Frederick ofMetzengerstein, may tameeventhedevilfromthestablesofBerlifitzing.""Youaremistaken,mylord;thehorse,asIthinkwementioned,isnotfrom

thestablesof theCount.Ifsuchhadbeenthecase,weknowourdutybetterthantobringhimintothepresenceofanobleofyourfamily.""True!" observed the Baron, dryly, and at that instant a page of the

bedchambercamefromthepalacewithaheightenedcolor,andaprecipitatestep. He whispered into his master's ear an account of the sudden

disappearance of a small portion of the tapestry, in an apartment which hedesignated; entering, at the same time, into particulars of a minute andcircumstantialcharacter;butfromthelowtoneofvoiceinwhichtheselatterwere communicated, nothing escaped to gratify the excited curiosity of theequerries.TheyoungFrederick,duringtheconference,seemedagitatedbyavarietyof

emotions.Hesoon,however, recoveredhiscomposure,andanexpressionofdeterminedmalignancysettleduponhiscountenance,ashegaveperemptoryorders that acertainchamber shouldbe immediately lockedup, and thekeyplacedinhisownpossession."HaveyouheardoftheunhappydeathoftheoldhunterBerlifitzing?"said

oneofhisvassals to theBaron,as,after thedepartureof thepage, thehugesteedwhich that nobleman had adopted as his own, plunged and curvetted,withredoubledfury,downthelongavenuewhichextendedfromthechateautothestablesofMetzengerstein."No!"saidtheBaron,turningabruptlytowardthespeaker,"dead!sayyou?""Itisindeedtrue,mylord;and,toanobleofyourname,willbe,Iimagine,

nounwelcomeintelligence."Arapidsmileshotoverthecountenanceofthelistener."Howdiedhe?""Inhisrashexertionstorescueafavoriteportionofhishuntingstud,hehas

himselfperishedmiserablyintheflames.""I-n-d-e-e-d-!"ejaculatedtheBaron,asifslowlyanddeliberatelyimpressed

withthetruthofsomeexcitingidea."Indeed;"repeatedthevassal."Shocking!"saidtheyouth,calmly,andturnedquietlyintothechateau.From thisdateamarkedalteration tookplace in theoutwarddemeanorof

thedissoluteyoungBaronFrederickVonMetzengerstein.Indeed,hisbehaviordisappointedeveryexpectation,andprovedlittleinaccordancewiththeviewsofmanyamanoeuveringmamma;whilehishabitsandmanner,stilllessthanformerly, offered any thing congenial with those of the neighboringaristocracy.Hewas never to be seen beyond the limits of his own domain,and,inthiswideandsocialworld,wasutterlycompanionless—unless,indeed,that unnatural, impetuous, and fiery-colored horse, which he henceforwardcontinuallybestrode,hadanymysteriousrighttothetitleofhisfriend.Numerous invitations on the part of the neighborhood for a long time,

however, periodically came in. "Will theBaron honor our festivalswith hispresence?" "Will the Baron join us in a hunting of theboar?"—"Metzengerstein does not hunt;" "Metzengerstein will not attend,"werethehaughtyandlaconicanswers.Theserepeatedinsultswerenottobeenduredbyanimperiousnobility.Such

invitationsbecamelesscordial—lessfrequent—intimetheyceasedaltogether.ThewidowoftheunfortunateCountBerlifitzingwasevenheardtoexpressahope"that theBaronmightbeathomewhenhedidnotwishtobeathome,sincehedisdainedthecompanyofhisequals;andridewhenhedidnotwishtoride,sincehepreferredthesocietyofahorse."Thistobesurewasaverysilly explosion of hereditary pique; and merely proved how singularlyunmeaning our sayings are apt to become, whenwe desire to be unusuallyenergetic.The charitable, nevertheless, attributed the alteration in the conduct of the

young nobleman to the natural sorrowof a son for the untimely loss of hisparents—forgetting, however, his atrocious and reckless behavior during theshort period immediately succeeding that bereavement. Some there were,indeed, who suggested a too haughty idea of self-consequence and dignity.Others again (among themmay bementioned the family physician) did nothesitate in speaking of morbid melancholy, and hereditary ill-health; whiledarkhints,ofamoreequivocalnature,werecurrentamongthemultitude.Indeed, theBaron'sperverse attachment tohis lately-acquiredcharger—an

attachmentwhichseemedtoattainnewstrengthfromeveryfreshexampleoftheanimal'sferociousanddemon-likepropensities—atlengthbecame,intheeyes of all reasonable men, a hideous and unnatural fervor. In the glare ofnoon—at the dead hour of night—in sickness or in health—in calm or intempest—the young Metzengerstein seemed rivetted to the saddle of thatcolossal horse, whose intractable audacities so well accorded with his ownspirit.Therewerecircumstances,moreover,whichcoupledwithlateevents,gave

an unearthly and portentous character to the mania of the rider, and to thecapabilities of the steed. The space passed over in a single leap had beenaccuratelymeasured, andwas found toexceed,byanastoundingdifference,thewildestexpectationsofthemostimaginative.TheBaron,besides,hadnoparticular name for the animal, although all the rest in his collection weredistinguishedbycharacteristicappellations.Hisstable,too,wasappointedatadistance from the rest; and with regard to grooming and other necessaryoffices, none but the owner in person had ventured to officiate, or even toenter the enclosure of that particular stall. It was also to be observed, thatalthough the three grooms, who had caught the steed as he fled from theconflagrationatBerlifitzing,hadsucceededinarrestinghiscourse,bymeansofachain-bridleandnoose—yetnooneofthethreecouldwithanycertaintyaffirmthathehad,duringthatdangerousstruggle,oratanyperiodthereafter,actually placed his hand upon the body of the beast. Instances of peculiarintelligence in thedemeanorofanobleandhigh-spiritedhorsearenot tobesupposedcapableof excitingunreasonableattention—especiallyamongmenwho, daily trained to the labors of the chase,might appearwell acquainted

with the sagacity of a horse—but there were certain circumstances whichintrudedthemselvesperforceuponthemostskepticalandphlegmatic;anditissaidthereweretimeswhentheanimalcausedthegapingcrowdwhostoodaroundtorecoilinhorrorfromthedeepandimpressivemeaningofhisterriblestamp—timeswhen the youngMetzengerstein turned pale and shrunk awayfromtherapidandsearchingexpressionofhisearnestandhuman-lookingeye.AmongalltheretinueoftheBaron,however,nonewerefoundtodoubtthe

ardor of that extraordinary affectionwhich existed on the part of the youngnoblemanforthefieryqualitiesofhishorse;atleast,nonebutaninsignificantandmisshapen little page, whose deformitieswere in everybody's way, andwhose opinions were of the least possible importance. He—if his ideas areworth mentioning at all—had the effrontery to assert that his master nevervaulted into the saddle without an unaccountable and almost imperceptibleshudder,andthat,uponhisreturnfromeverylong-continuedandhabitualride,an expression of triumphant malignity distorted every muscle in hiscountenance.One tempestuous night, Metzengerstein, awaking from a heavy slumber,

descended like a maniac from his chamber, and, mounting in hot haste,bounded away into the mazes of the forest. An occurrence so commonattracted no particular attention, but his return was looked for with intenseanxiety on the part of his domestics, when, after some hours' absence, thestupendousandmagnificentbattlementsoftheChateauMetzengerstein,werediscoveredcracklingandrockingtotheirveryfoundation,undertheinfluenceofadenseandlividmassofungovernablefire.Astheflames,whenfirstseen,hadalreadymadesoterribleaprogressthat

all efforts to save any portion of the building were evidently futile, theastonishedneighborhoodstoodidlyaroundinsilentandpatheticwonder.Buta new and fearful object soon rivetted the attention of the multitude, andprovedhowmuchmoreintenseistheexcitementwroughtinthefeelingsofacrowdby thecontemplationofhumanagony, than thatbroughtaboutby themostappallingspectaclesofinanimatematter.Up the long avenue of aged oaks which led from the forest to the main

entranceof theChâteauMetzengerstein, a steed,bearinganunbonnetedanddisorderedrider,wasseenleapingwithanimpetuositywhichoutstrippedtheveryDemonoftheTempest.The career of the horseman was indisputably, on his own part,

uncontrollable.Theagonyofhiscountenance, theconvulsivestruggleofhisframe, gave evidenceof superhuman exertion: but no sound, save a solitaryshriek,escapedfromhislaceratedlips,whichwerebittenthroughandthroughin the intensity of terror.One instant, and the clattering of hoofs resoundedsharply and shrilly above the roaring of the flames and the shrieking of thewinds—another, and, clearingat a singleplunge thegate-wayand themoat,

the steed bounded far up the tottering staircases of the palace, and,with itsrider,disappearedamidthewhirlwindofchaoticfire.The furyof the tempest immediatelydied away, and a dead calm sullenly

succeeded. A white flame still enveloped the building like a shroud, and,streaming far away into the quiet atmosphere, shot forth a glare ofpreternaturallight;whileacloudofsmokesettledheavilyoverthebattlementsinthedistinctcolossalfigureof—ahorse.

THESYSTEMOFDOCTORTARRANDPROFESSORFETHER

DURINGtheautumnof18—,whileonatourthroughtheextremesouthernprovincesofFrance,myrouteledmewithinafewmilesofacertainMaisondeSanteorprivatemad-house,aboutwhichIhadheardmuch inParis frommymedicalfriends.AsIhadnevervisitedaplaceof thekind,I thought theopportunitytoogoodtobelost;andsoproposedtomytravellingcompanion(agentlemanwithwhomIhadmadecasualacquaintanceafewdaysbefore)that we should turn aside, for an hour or so, and look through theestablishment.To this heobjected—pleadinghaste in the first place, and, inthe second, a very usual horror at the sight of a lunatic. He begged me,however, not to let any mere courtesy towards himself interfere with thegratificationofmycuriosity,andsaidthathewouldrideonleisurely,sothatImight overtake himduring the day, or, at all events, during the next.As hebade me good-bye, I bethought me that there might be some difficulty inobtaining access to the premises, andmentionedmy fears on this point.Hereplied that, in fact, unless I had personal knowledge of the superintendent,MonsieurMaillard,orsomecredentialinthewayofaletter,adifficultymightbe found to exist, as the regulationsof theseprivatemad-housesweremorerigidthanthepublichospitallaws.Forhimself,headded,hehad,someyearssince,madetheacquaintanceofMaillard,andwouldsofarassistmeastorideuptothedoorandintroduceme;althoughhisfeelingsonthesubjectoflunacywouldnotpermitofhisenteringthehouse.I thankedhim,and, turningfromthemainroad,weenteredagrass-grown

by-path,which,inhalfanhour,nearlylostitselfinadenseforest,clothingthebaseofamountain.Throughthisdankandgloomywoodwerodesometwomiles, when theMaison de Sante came in view. It was a fantastic chateau,muchdilapidated,andindeedscarcelytenantablethroughageandneglect.Itsaspect inspired me with absolute dread, and, checking my horse, I halfresolved to turnback. I soon,however,grewashamedofmyweakness, and

proceeded.Aswerodeuptothegate-way,Iperceiveditslightlyopen,andthevisageof

amanpeeringthrough.Inaninstantafterward,thismancameforth,accostedmycompanionbyname,shookhimcordiallybythehand,andbeggedhimtoalight. It was Monsieur Maillard himself. He was a portly, fine-lookinggentleman of the old school, with a polished manner, and a certain air ofgravity,dignity,andauthoritywhichwasveryimpressive.My friend, having presented me, mentioned my desire to inspect the

establishment, and received Monsieur Maillard's assurance that he wouldshowmeallattention,nowtookleave,andIsawhimnomore.When he had gone, the superintendent ushered me into a small and

exceedinglyneatparlor,containing,amongother indicationsofrefinedtaste,manybooks,drawings,potsof flowers, andmusical instruments.Acheerfulfire blazed upon the hearth. At a piano, singing an aria from Bellini, sat ayoung andvery beautifulwoman,who, atmy entrance, paused in her song,and receivedmewith graceful courtesy. Her voicewas low, and herwholemanner subdued. I thought, too, that I perceived the traces of sorrow in hercountenance,whichwas excessively, although tomy taste, not unpleasingly,pale.Shewasattiredindeepmourning,andexcitedinmybosomafeelingofmingledrespect,interest,andadmiration.Ihadheard,atParis,thattheinstitutionofMonsieurMaillardwasmanaged

uponwhatisvulgarlytermedthe"systemofsoothing"—thatallpunishmentswere avoided—that even confinement was seldom resorted to—that thepatients, while secretly watched, were left much apparent liberty, and thatmost of them were permitted to roam about the house and grounds in theordinaryapparelofpersonsinrightmind.Keepingtheseimpressionsinview,IwascautiousinwhatIsaidbeforethe

younglady;forIcouldnotbesurethatshewassane;and,infact,therewasacertainrestlessbrilliancyabouthereyeswhichhalfledmetoimagineshewasnot. I confined my remarks, therefore, to general topics, and to such as Ithoughtwouldnotbedispleasingorexcitingeventoalunatic.SherepliedinaperfectlyrationalmannertoallthatIsaid;andevenheroriginalobservationsweremarkedwiththesoundestgoodsense,butalongacquaintancewiththemetaphysicsofmania,hadtaughtmetoputnofaithinsuchevidenceofsanity,andIcontinuedtopractise,throughouttheinterview,thecautionwithwhichIcommencedit.Presentlya smart footman in liverybrought ina traywith fruit,wine,and

other refreshments, ofwhich I partook, the lady soon afterward leaving theroom.As she departed I turnedmy eyes in an inquiringmanner towardmyhost."No," he said, "oh, no—amember of my family—my niece, and a most

accomplishedwoman.""Ibega thousandpardonsfor thesuspicion," I replied,"butofcourseyou

willknowhowtoexcuseme.TheexcellentadministrationofyouraffairshereiswellunderstoodinParis,andIthoughtitjustpossible,youknow—"Yes,yes—saynomore—orratheritismyselfwhoshouldthankyouforthe

commendable prudence you have displayed. We seldom find so much offorethoughtinyoungmen;and,morethanonce,someunhappycontre-tempshas occurred in consequence of thoughtlessness on the part of our visitors.Whilemyformersystemwasinoperation,andmypatientswerepermittedtheprivilegeofroamingtoandfroatwill,theywereoftenarousedtoadangerousfrenzyby injudicious personswho called to inspect the house.Hence Iwasobligedtoenforcearigidsystemofexclusion;andnoneobtainedaccesstothepremisesuponwhosediscretionIcouldnotrely.""While your former systemwas in operation!" I said, repeating hiswords

—"doIunderstandyou,then,tosaythatthe'soothingsystem'ofwhichIhaveheardsomuchisnolongerinforce?""Itisnow,"hereplied,"severalweekssincewehaveconcludedtorenounce

itforever.""Indeed!youastonishme!""Wefoundit,sir,"hesaid,withasigh,"absolutelynecessarytoreturntothe

oldusages.Thedangerofthesoothingsystemwas,atalltimes,appalling;anditsadvantageshavebeenmuchoverrated.Ibelieve,sir,thatinthishouseithasbeengivenafairtrial,ifeverinany.Wedideverythingthatrationalhumanitycouldsuggest.Iamsorrythatyoucouldnothavepaidusavisitatanearlierperiod, that you might have judged for yourself. But I presume you areconversantwiththesoothingpractice—withitsdetails.""Notaltogether.WhatIhaveheardhasbeenatthirdorfourthhand.""Imaystatethesystem,then,ingeneralterms,asoneinwhichthepatients

weremenages-humored.Wecontradictednofancieswhichenteredthebrainsofthemad.Onthecontrary,wenotonlyindulgedbutencouragedthem;andmany of our most permanent cures have been thus effected. There is noargument which so touches the feeble reason of the madman as theargumentum ad absurdum. We have had men, for example, who fanciedthemselves chickens. The cure was, to insist upon the thing as a fact—toaccuse thepatientofstupidity innotsufficientlyperceiving it tobea fact—and thus to refuse him any other diet for a week than that which properlyappertainstoachicken.Inthismannera littlecornandgravelweremadetoperformwonders.""Butwasthisspeciesofacquiescenceall?""Bynomeans.Weputmuchfaithinamusementsofasimplekind,suchas

music,dancing,gymnasticexercisesgenerally,cards,certainclassesofbooks,

and so forth. We affected to treat each individual as if for some ordinaryphysical disorder, and theword 'lunacy'was never employed.A great pointwas to set each lunatic to guard the actions of all the others. To reposeconfidence in the understanding or discretion of a madman, is to gain himbody and soul. In thiswaywewere enabled to dispenséwith an expensivebodyofkeepers.""Andyouhadnopunishmentsofanykind?""None.""Andyouneverconfinedyourpatients?""Very rarely. Now and then, themalady of some individual growing to a

crisis,or takingasuddenturnoffury,weconveyedhimtoasecretcell, lesthisdisordershouldinfecttherest,andtherekepthimuntilwecoulddismisshimtohisfriends—forwiththeragingmaniacwehavenothingtodo.Heisusuallyremovedtothepublichospitals.""Andyouhavenowchangedallthis—andyouthinkforthebetter?""Decidedly. The system had its disadvantages, and even its dangers. It is

now,happily,explodedthroughoutalltheMaisonsdeSanteofFrance.""I amverymuch surprised," I said, "atwhat you tellme; for Imade sure

that, at thismoment, noothermethodof treatment formania existed in anyportionofthecountry.""Youareyoungyet,my friend," repliedmyhost, "but the timewill arrive

whenyouwill learn to judge for yourself ofwhat is goingon in theworld,without trusting to the gossip of others.Believe nothing you hear, and onlyone-halfthatyousee.NowaboutourMaisonsdeSante,it isclearthatsomeignoramushasmisledyou.Afterdinner,however,whenyouhavesufficientlyrecoveredfromthefatigueofyourride,Iwillbehappytotakeyouoverthehouse, and introduce to you a systemwhich, inmy opinion, and in that ofeveryonewhohaswitnesseditsoperation,isincomparablythemosteffectualasyetdevised.""Yourown?"Iinquired—"oneofyourowninvention?""I am proud," he replied, "to acknowledge that it is—at least in some

measure."In this manner I conversed with Monsieur Maillard for an hour or two,

duringwhichheshowedmethegardensandconservatoriesoftheplace."Icannot letyouseemypatients,"he said, "just atpresent.Toa sensitive

mindthereisalwaysmoreorlessoftheshockinginsuchexhibitions;andIdonotwishtospoilyourappetitefordinner.Wewilldine.IcangiveyousomevealalaMenehoult,withcauliflowersinveloutesauce—afterthataglassofClosdeVougeot—thenyournerveswillbesufficientlysteadied."Atsix,dinnerwasannounced;andmyhostconductedmeintoalargesallea

manger, where a very numerous company were assembled—twenty-five orthirtyinall.Theywere,apparently,peopleofrank-certainlyofhighbreeding—although their habiliments, I thought, were extravagantly rich, partakingsomewhattoomuchoftheostentatiousfineryoftheviellecour.Inoticedthatatleasttwo-thirdsoftheseguestswereladies;andsomeofthelatterwerebyno means accoutred in what a Parisian would consider good taste at thepresentday.Manyfemales,forexample,whoseagecouldnothavebeenlessthan seventy were bedecked with a profusion of jewelry, such as rings,bracelets, and earrings, andwore their bosoms and arms shamefully bare. Iobserved,too,thatveryfewofthedresseswerewellmade—or,atleast,thatvery few of them fitted the wearers. In looking about, I discovered theinteresting girl to whom Monsieur Maillard had presented me in the littleparlor;butmysurprisewasgreat toseeherwearingahoopandfarthingale,withhigh-heeledshoes,andadirtycapofBrusselslace,somuchtoolargeforherthatitgaveherfacearidiculouslydiminutiveexpression.WhenIhadfirstseenher,shewasattired,mostbecomingly, indeepmourning.Therewasanair of oddity, in short, about the dress of the whole party, which, at first,causedmetorecurtomyoriginalideaofthe"soothingsystem,"andtofancythatMonsieurMaillardhadbeenwillingtodeceivemeuntilafterdinner,thatImight experience no uncomfortable feelings during the repast, at findingmyselfdiningwithlunatics;butIrememberedhavingbeeninformed,inParis,thatthesouthernprovincialistswereapeculiarlyeccentricpeople,withavastnumber of antiquated notions; and then, too, upon conversing with severalmembers of the company, my apprehensions were immediately and fullydispelled.The dining-room itself, although perhaps sufficiently comfortable and of

gooddimensions,hadnothingtoomuchofeleganceaboutit.Forexample,thefloor was uncarpeted; in France, however, a carpet is frequently dispensedwith.Thewindows,too,werewithoutcurtains;theshutters,beingshut,weresecurely fastenedwith ironbars, applieddiagonally, after the fashionof ourordinaryshop-shutters.Theapartment,Iobserved,formed,initself,awingofthechateau,and thus thewindowswereon threesidesof theparallelogram,thedoorbeingattheother.Therewerenolessthantenwindowsinall.The table was superbly set out. It was loaded with plate, and more than

loaded with delicacies. The profusion was absolutely barbaric. There weremeats enough to have feasted the Anakim. Never, in all my life, had Iwitnessed so lavish, so wasteful an expenditure of the good things of life.There seemed very little taste, however, in the arrangements; andmy eyes,accustomed toquiet lights,weresadlyoffendedby theprodigiousglareofamultitudeofwaxcandles,which,insilvercandelabra,weredepositeduponthetable,andallabouttheroom,whereveritwaspossibletofindaplace.Therewere several active servants in attendance; and, upon a large table, at the

fartherendof theapartment,wereseatedsevenoreightpeoplewithfiddles,fifes, trombones, and a drum. These fellows annoyed me very much, atintervals, during the repast, by an infinite variety of noises, which wereintended formusic, andwhich appeared to affordmuch entertainment to allpresent,withtheexceptionofmyself.Uponthewhole,Icouldnothelpthinkingthattherewasmuchofthebizarre

about every thing I saw—but then the world is made up of all kinds ofpersons,with allmodes of thought, and all sorts of conventional customs. Ihad travelled, too, somuch, as tobequite an adept at thenil admirari; so Itookmyseatverycoollyattherighthandofmyhost,and,havinganexcellentappetite,didjusticetothegoodcheersetbeforeme.Theconversation,inthemeantime,wasspiritedandgeneral.Theladies,as

usual,talkedagreatdeal.Isoonfoundthatnearlyallthecompanywerewelleducated;andmyhostwasaworldofgood-humoredanecdoteinhimself.HeseemedquitewillingtospeakofhispositionassuperintendentofaMaisondeSante;and, indeed, the topicof lunacywas,much tomysurprise, a favoriteonewithallpresent.Agreatmanyamusingstoriesweretold,havingreferencetothewhimsofthepatients."Wehadafellowhereonce,"saidafatlittlegentleman,whosatatmyright,

—"afellowthatfanciedhimselfatea-pot;andbytheway,isitnotespeciallysingularhowoftenthisparticularcrotchethasenteredthebrainofthelunatic?There is scarcely an insane asylum inFrancewhich cannot supply a humantea-pot. Our gentleman was a Britannia—ware tea-pot, and was careful topolishhimselfeverymorningwithbuckskinandwhiting.""And then," said a tall man just opposite, "we had here, not long ago, a

person who had taken it into his head that he was a donkey—whichallegorically speaking, you will say, was quite true. He was a troublesomepatient;andwehadmuchadotokeephimwithinbounds.Foralongtimehewouldeatnothingbutthistles;butofthisideawesooncuredhimbyinsistinguponhiseatingnothingelse.Thenhewasperpetuallykickingouthisheels-so-so-""Mr.DeKock!Iwillthankyoutobehaveyourself!"hereinterruptedanold

lady,whosatnexttothespeaker."Pleasekeepyourfeettoyourself!Youhavespoiledmybrocade!Isitnecessary,pray,toillustratearemarkinsopracticalastyle?Ourfriendherecansurelycomprehendyouwithoutall this.Uponmyword, you are nearly as great a donkey as the poor unfortunate imaginedhimself.Youractingisverynatural,asIlive.""Millepardons!Ma'm'selle!"repliedMonsieurDeKock,thusaddressed—"a

thousand pardons! I had no intention of offending. Ma'm'selle Laplace—MonsieurDeKockwilldohimselfthehonoroftakingwinewithyou."HereMonsieurDeKockbowedlow,kissedhishandwithmuchceremony,

andtookwinewithMa'm'selleLaplace."Allow me, mon ami," now said Monsieur Maillard, addressing myself,

"allowmetosendyouamorselofthisvealalaSt.Menhoult—youwillfinditparticularlyfine."At this instant three sturdywaitershad just succeeded indepositingsafely

uponthetableanenormousdish,ortrencher,containingwhatIsupposedtobethe "monstrumhorrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumenademptum."Acloserscrutinyassuredme,however,thatitwasonlyasmallcalfroastedwhole,andset upon its knees, with an apple in itsmouth, as is the English fashion ofdressingahare."Thankyou,no,"Ireplied;"tosaythetruth,Iamnotparticularlypartialto

vealalaSt.—whatisit?—forIdonotfindthatitaltogetheragreeswithme.Iwillchangemyplate,however,andtrysomeoftherabbit."Therewereseveralside-dishesonthetable,containingwhatappearedtobe

the ordinary French rabbit—a very delicious morceau, which I canrecommend."Pierre,"criedthehost,"changethisgentleman'splate,andgivehimaside-

pieceofthisrabbitau-chat.""Thiswhat?"saidI."Thisrabbitau-chat.""Why,thankyou—uponsecondthoughts,no.Iwilljusthelpmyselftosome

oftheham."Thereisnoknowingwhatoneeats,thoughtItomyself,atthetablesofthese

peopleoftheprovince.Iwillhavenoneoftheirrabbitau-chat—and,forthematterofthat,noneoftheircat-au-rabbiteither."Andthen,"saidacadaverouslookingpersonage,nearthefootofthetable,

takingupthethreadoftheconversationwhereithadbeenbrokenoff,—"andthen, among other oddities, we had a patient, once upon a time, who verypertinaciouslymaintained himself to be a Cordova cheese, andwent about,with a knife in his hand, soliciting his friends to try a small slice from themiddleofhisleg.""Hewas agreat fool, beyonddoubt," interposed someone, "butnot tobe

comparedwithacertainindividualwhomweallknow,withtheexceptionofthis strange gentleman. I mean the man who took himself for a bottle ofchampagne,andalwayswentoffwithapopandafizz,inthisfashion."Here the speaker, very rudely, as I thought, put his right thumb inhis left

cheek,withdrewitwithasoundresemblingthepoppingofacork,andthen,byadexterousmovementofthetongueupontheteeth,createdasharphissingand fizzing,which lasted for severalminutes, in imitationof the frothingofchampagne.Thisbehavior, I sawplainly,wasnotverypleasing toMonsieur

Maillard;butthatgentlemansaidnothing,andtheconversationwasresumedbyaveryleanlittlemaninabigwig."And then therewas an ignoramus," said he, "whomistook himself for a

frog,which, by theway, he resembled in no little degree. Iwish you couldhaveseenhim,sir,"—herethespeakeraddressedmyself—"itwouldhavedoneyourheartgoodtoseethenaturalairsthatheputon.Sir,ifthatmanwasnotafrog,Icanonlyobservethatitisapityhewasnot.Hiscroakthus—o-o-o-o-gh—o-o-o-o-gh!wasthefinestnoteintheworld—Bflat;andwhenheputhiselbows upon the table thus—after taking a glass or two of wine—anddistendedhismouth,thus,androlleduphiseyes,thus,andwinkedthemwithexcessiverapidity,thus,whythen,sir,Itakeituponmyselftosay,positively,thatyouwouldhavebeenlostinadmirationofthegeniusoftheman.""Ihavenodoubtofit,"Isaid."Andthen,"saidsomebodyelse,"thentherewasPetitGaillard,whothought

himselfapinchof snuff, andwas trulydistressedbecausehecouldnot takehimselfbetweenhisownfingerandthumb.""And then there was Jules Desoulieres, who was a very singular genius,

indeed,andwentmadwiththeideathathewasapumpkin.Hepersecutedthecooktomakehimupintopies—athingwhichthecookindignantlyrefusedtodo.Formypart, Iambynomeanssure thatapumpkinpiea laDesouliereswouldnothavebeenverycapitaleatingindeed!""Youastonishme!"saidI;andIlookedinquisitivelyatMonsieurMaillard."Ha!ha!ha!"saidthatgentleman—"he!he!he!—hi!hi!hi!—ho!ho!ho!—

hu!hu!hu!hu!—verygoodindeed!Youmustnotbeastonished,monami;ourfriendhereisawit—adrole—youmustnotunderstandhimtotheletter.""Andthen,"saidsomeotheroneoftheparty,—"thentherewasBouffonLe

Grand—another extraordinary personage in his way. He grew derangedthrough love, and fancied himself possessed of two heads.One of these hemaintainedtobetheheadofCicero;theotherheimaginedacompositeone,being Demosthenes' from the top of the forehead to the mouth, and LordBrougham's from the mouth to the chin. It is not impossible that he waswrong;buthewouldhaveconvincedyouofhisbeingintheright;forhewasamanofgreateloquence.Hehadanabsolutepassionfororatory,andcouldnotrefrainfromdisplay.Forexample,heusedtoleapuponthedinner-tablethus,and—and-"Hereafriend,at thesideof thespeaker,putahanduponhisshoulderand

whispered a fewwords in his ear, uponwhich he ceased talkingwith greatsuddenness,andsankbackwithinhischair."Andthen,"saidthefriendwhohadwhispered,"therewasBoullard,thetee-

totum.Icallhimthe tee-totumbecause, infact,hewasseizedwith thedrollbut not altogether irrational crotchet, that he had been converted into a tee-

totum.Youwouldhave roaredwith laughter toseehimspin.Hewould turnroundupononeheelbythehour,inthismanner—so—"Here the friendwhomhe had just interrupted by awhisper, performed an

exactlysimilarofficeforhimself."But then," cried the old lady, at the top of her voice, "your Monsieur

Boullardwasamadman,andaverysillymadmanatbest;forwho,allowmetoaskyou, everheardof ahuman tee-totum?The thing is absurd.MadameJoyeusewasamoresensibleperson,asyouknow.Shehadacrotchet,but itwasinstinctwithcommonsense,andgavepleasuretoallwhohadthehonorof her acquaintance. She found, upon mature deliberation, that, by someaccident,shehadbeenturnedintoachicken-cock;but,assuch,shebehavedwithpropriety.She flappedherwingswithprodigious effect—so—so—and,asforhercrow,itwasdelicious!Cock-a-doodle-doo!—cock-a-doodle-doo!—cock-a-doodle-de-doodooo-do-

o-o-o-o-o-o!""MadameJoyeuse,Iwillthankyoutobehaveyourself!"hereinterruptedour

host,veryangrily."Youcaneitherconductyourselfasaladyshoulddo,oryoucanquitthetableforthwith-takeyourchoice."The lady (whom I was much astonished to hear addressed as Madame

Joyeuse,afterthedescriptionofMadameJoyeuseshehadjustgiven)blusheduptotheeyebrows,andseemedexceedinglyabashedatthereproof.Shehungdownherhead,andsaidnotasyllableinreply.Butanotherandyoungerladyresumedthetheme.Itwasmybeautifulgirlofthelittleparlor."Oh,Madame Joyeuse was a fool!" she exclaimed, "but there was really

muchsoundsense, afterall, in theopinionofEugenieSalsafette.Shewasavery beautiful and painfully modest young lady, who thought the ordinarymodeofhabiliment indecent,andwishedtodressherself,always,bygettingoutsideinsteadofinsideofherclothes.Itisathingveryeasilydone,afterall.You have only to do so—and then so—so—so—and then so—so—so—andthenso—so—andthen—"Mondieu!Ma'm'selleSalsafette!"herecriedadozenvoicesatonce."What

areyouabout?—forbear!—thatissufficient!—wesee,veryplainly,howit isdone!—hold!hold!"andseveralpersonswerealreadyleapingfromtheirseatsto withhold Ma'm'selle Salsafette from putting herself upon a par with theMedicean Venus, when the point was very effectually and suddenlyaccomplishedbyaseriesofloudscreams,oryells,fromsomeportionofthemainbodyofthechateau.Mynerveswereverymuchaffected, indeed,by theseyells;but therestof

the company I really pitied. I never saw any set of reasonable people sothoroughly frightened inmy life.Theyallgrewaspaleas somanycorpses,and,shrinkingwithintheirseats,satquiveringandgibberingwithterror,and

listening fora repetitionof the sound. It cameagain—louderand seeminglynearer—andthena third timevery loud,and thenafourth timewithavigorevidentlydiminished.Atthisapparentdyingawayofthenoise,thespiritsofthe company were immediately regained, and all was life and anecdote asbefore.Inowventuredtoinquirethecauseofthedisturbance."Amerebagtelle,"saidMonsieurMaillard."Weareusedtothesethings,and

carereallyverylittleaboutthem.Thelunatics,everynowandthen,getupahowlinconcert;onestartinganother,asissometimesthecasewithabevyofdogs at night. It occasionally happens, however, that the concerto yells aresucceededbyasimultaneouseffortatbreakingloose,when,ofcourse,somelittledangeristobeapprehended.""Andhowmanyhaveyouincharge?""Atpresentwehavenotmorethanten,altogether.""Principallyfemales,Ipresume?""Oh,no—everyoneofthemmen,andstoutfellows,too,Icantellyou.""Indeed!Ihavealwaysunderstoodthatthemajorityoflunaticswereofthe

gentlersex.""Itisgenerallyso,butnotalways.Sometimeago,therewereabouttwenty-

sevenpatientshere;and,of thatnumber,no less thaneighteenwerewomen;but,lately,mattershavechangedverymuch,asyousee.""Yes—havechangedverymuch,asyousee,"hereinterruptedthegentleman

whohadbrokentheshinsofMa'm'selleLaplace."Yes—havechangedverymuch,asyousee!"chimedinthewholecompany

atonce."Hold your tongues, every one of you!" said my host, in a great rage.

Whereuponthewholecompanymaintainedadeadsilencefornearlyaminute.Asforonelady,sheobeyedMonsieurMaillardtotheletter,andthrustingouther tongue,whichwasanexcessively longone,held itveryresignedly,withbothhands,untiltheendoftheentertainment."And this gentlewoman," said I, toMonsieurMaillard, bending over and

addressinghiminawhisper—"thisgoodladywhohasjustspoken,andwhogives us the cock-a-doodle-de-doo—she, I presume, is harmless—quiteharmless,eh?""Harmless!"ejaculatedhe,inunfeignedsurprise,"why—why,whatcanyou

mean?""Onlyslightlytouched?"saidI,touchingmyhead."Itakeitforgrantedthat

sheisnotparticularlynotdangerouslyaffected,eh?""Mon dieu! what is it you imagine? This lady, my particular old friend

Madame Joyeuse, is as absolutely sane as myself. She has her littleeccentricities, to be sure—but then, you know, all oldwomen—all very old

women—aremoreorlesseccentric!""To be sure," said I,—"to be sure—and then the rest of these ladies and

gentlemen-""Are my friends and keepers," interupted Monsieur Maillard, drawing

himselfupwithhauteur,—"myverygoodfriendsandassistants.""What!allofthem?"Iasked,—"thewomenandall?""Assuredly,"hesaid,—"wecouldnotdoatallwithoutthewomen;theyare

thebestlunaticnursesintheworld;theyhaveawayoftheirown,youknow;theirbrighteyeshaveamarvellouseffect;—somethinglikethefascinationofthesnake,youknow.""Tobesure,"saidI,—"tobesure!Theybehavealittleodd,eh?—theyarea

littlequeer,eh?—don'tyouthinkso?""Odd!—queer!—why,doyoureallythinkso?Wearenotveryprudish,tobe

sure,hereintheSouth—doprettymuchasweplease—enjoylife,andallthatsortofthing,youknow-""Tobesure,"saidI,—"tobesure.""Andthen,perhaps,thisClosdeVougeotisalittleheady,youknow—alittle

strong—youunderstand,eh?""Tobe sure," said I,—"tobe sure.By thebye,Monsieur,did Iunderstand

you to say that the system you have adopted, in place of the celebratedsoothingsystem,wasoneofveryrigorousseverity?""Bynomeans.Ourconfinementisnecessarilyclose;butthetreatment—the

medicaltreatment,Imean—isratheragreeabletothepatientsthanotherwise.""Andthenewsystemisoneofyourowninvention?""Notaltogether.SomeportionsofitarereferabletoProfessorTarr,ofwhom

youhave, necessarily, heard; and, again, there aremodifications inmyplanwhich I am happy to acknowledge as belonging of right to the celebratedFether, with whom, if I mistake not, you have the honor of an intimateacquaintance.""Iamquiteashamedtoconfess,"Ireplied,"thatIhaveneverevenheardthe

namesofeithergentlemanbefore.""Goodheavens!"ejaculatedmyhost,drawingbackhis chair abruptly, and

upliftinghishands."Isurelydonothearyouaright!Youdidnotintendtosay,eh? that you had never heard either of the learned Doctor Tarr, or of thecelebratedProfessorFether?""Iamforcedtoacknowledgemyignorance,"Ireplied;"butthetruthshould

beheldinviolateaboveallthings.Nevertheless,Ifeelhumbledtothedust,nottobeacquaintedwiththeworksofthese,nodoubt,extraordinarymen.Iwillseek out their writings forthwith, and peruse them with deliberate care.Monsieur Maillard, you have really—I must confess it—you have really—

mademeashamedofmyself!"Andthiswasthefact."Say nomore,my good young friend," he said kindly, pressingmy hand,

—"joinmenowinaglassofSauterne."Wedrank.Thecompanyfollowedourexamplewithoutstint.Theychatted—

they jested—they laughed—they perpetrated a thousand absurdities—thefiddles shrieked—the drum row-de-dowed—the trombones bellowed like somanybrazenbullsofPhalaris—andthewholescene,growinggraduallyworseand worse, as the wines gained the ascendancy, became at length a sort ofpandemoniuminpetto.Inthemeantime,MonsieurMaillardandmyself,withsomebottlesofSauterneandVougeotbetweenus,continuedourconversationat the top of the voice. A word spoken in an ordinary key stood no morechance of being heard than the voice of a fish from the bottom ofNiagaraFalls."And, sir," said I, screaming in his ear, "youmentioned something before

dinneraboutthedangerincurredintheoldsystemofsoothing.Howisthat?""Yes,"hereplied,"therewas,occasionally,verygreatdangerindeed.There

isnoaccountingforthecapricesofmadmen;and,inmyopinionaswellasinthatofDr.TarrandProfessorFether,itisneversafetopermitthemtorunatlargeunattended.Alunaticmaybe'soothed,'asitiscalled,foratime,but,intheend,heisveryapttobecomeobstreperous.Hiscunning,too,isproverbialandgreat.Ifhehasaprojectinview,heconcealshisdesignwithamarvellouswisdom;and thedexteritywithwhichhecounterfeits sanity,presents, to themetaphysician,oneofthemostsingularproblemsinthestudyofmind.Whenamadman appears thoroughly sane, indeed, it is high time to put him in astraitjacket.""But the danger, my dear sir, of which you were speaking, in your own

experience—duringyourcontrolofthishouse—haveyouhadpracticalreasontothinklibertyhazardousinthecaseofalunatic?""Here?—inmyownexperience?—why, Imay say,yes.For example:—no

verylongwhileago,asingularcircumstanceoccurredinthisveryhouse.The'soothingsystem,'youknow,was then inoperation,and thepatientswereatlarge. They behaved remarkablywell-especially so, any one of sensemighthaveknownthatsomedevilishschemewasbrewingfromthatparticularfact,that the fellows behaved so remarkably well. And, sure enough, one finemorning the keepers found themselves pinioned hand and foot, and throwninto thecells,where theywereattended,as if theywere the lunatics,by thelunaticsthemselves,whohadusurpedtheofficesofthekeepers.""Youdon'ttellmeso!Ineverheardofanythingsoabsurdinmylife!""Fact—itallcametopassbymeansofastupidfellow—alunatic—who,by

somemeans,hadtakenitintohisheadthathehadinventedabettersystemof

governmentthananyeverheardofbefore—oflunaticgovernment,Imean.Hewishedtogivehisinventionatrial,Isuppose,andsohepersuadedtherestofthe patients to join him in a conspiracy for the overthrow of the reigningpowers.""Andhereallysucceeded?""Nodoubtofit.Thekeepersandkeptweresoonmadetoexchangeplaces.

Notthatexactlyeither—forthemadmenhadbeenfree,butthekeeperswereshut up in cells forthwith, and treated, I am sorry to say, in a very cavaliermanner.""But I presume a counter-revolutionwas soon effected. This condition of

thingscouldnothavelongexisted.Thecountrypeople intheneighborhood-visitorscomingtoseetheestablishment—wouldhavegiventhealarm.""Thereyouareout.Theheadrebelwastoocunningforthat.Headmittedno

visitors at all—with the exception, one day, of a very stupid-looking younggentlemanofwhomhehadno reason to be afraid.He let him in to see theplace—justbywayofvariety,—tohavea little funwithhim.Assoonashehad gammoned him sufficiently, he let him out, and sent him about hisbusiness.""Andhowlong,then,didthemadmenreign?""Oh,averylongtime,indeed—amonthcertainly—howmuchlongerIcan't

preciselysay.Inthemeantime,thelunaticshadajollyseasonofit—thatyoumay swear. They doffed their own shabby clothes, and made free with thefamilywardrobeandjewels.Thecellarsofthechateauwerewellstockedwithwine;and thesemadmenare just thedevils thatknowhowtodrink it.Theylivedwell,Icantellyou.""Andthetreatment—whatwastheparticularspeciesoftreatmentwhichthe

leaderoftherebelsputintooperation?""Why, as for that, a madman is not necessarily a fool, as I have already

observed; and it ismy honest opinion that his treatmentwas amuch bettertreatmentthanthatwhichitsuperseded.Itwasaverycapitalsystemindeed—simple—neat—notroubleatall—infactitwasdeliciousitwas."Heremyhost'sobservationswerecutshortbyanotherseriesofyells,ofthe

same character as those which had previously disconcerted us. This time,however,theyseemedtoproceedfrompersonsrapidlyapproaching."Gracious heavens!" I ejaculated—"the lunatics have most undoubtedly

brokenloose.""I very much fear it is so," replied Monsieur Maillard, now becoming

excessively pale. He had scarcely finished the sentence, before loud shoutsand imprecations were heard beneath the windows; and, immediatelyafterward, it became evident that somepersonsoutsidewere endeavoring togainentranceintotheroom.Thedoorwasbeatenwithwhatappearedtobea

sledge-hammer, and the shutterswerewrenched and shakenwithprodigiousviolence.A scene of themost terrible confusion ensued.MonsieurMaillard, tomy

excessive astonishment threw himself under the side-board. I had expectedmoreresolutionathishands.Themembersoftheorchestra,who,forthelastfifteen minutes, had been seemingly too much intoxicated to do duty, nowsprangallatoncetotheirfeetandtotheirinstruments,and,scramblingupontheir table, broke out, with one accord, into, "Yankee Doodle," which theyperformed,ifnotexactlyintune,atleastwithanenergysuperhuman,duringthewholeoftheuproar.Meantime, upon the main dining-table, among the bottles and glasses,

leaped the gentleman who, with such difficulty, had been restrained fromleaping therebefore.Assoonashe fairly settledhimself,hecommencedanoration,which, nodoubt,was avery capital one, if it couldonlyhavebeenheard. At the same moment, the man with the teetotum predilection, sethimself to spinning around the apartment, with immense energy, and witharmsoutstretchedatrightangleswithhisbody;sothathehadalltheairofatee-totum in fact, and knocked everybody down that happened to get in hisway.Andnow,too,hearinganincrediblepoppingandfizzingofchampagne,Idiscovered at length, that it proceeded from the person who performed thebottle of that delicate drink during dinner. And then, again, the frog-mancroakedawayasifthesalvationofhissouldependeduponeverynotethatheuttered.And,inthemidstofallthis,thecontinuousbrayingofadonkeyaroseoverall.Asformyoldfriend,MadameJoyeuse,Ireallycouldhaveweptforthepoorlady,sheappearedsoterriblyperplexed.Allshedid,however,wastostandupinacorner,bythefireplace,andsingoutincessantlyatthetopofhervoice,"Cock-a-doodle-de-dooooooh!"Andnowcametheclimax—thecatastropheofthedrama.Asnoresistance,

beyond whooping and yelling and cock-a-doodling, was offered to theencroachmentsofthepartywithout,thetenwindowswereveryspeedily,andalmost simultaneously, broken in. But I shall never forget the emotions ofwonderandhorrorwithwhichIgazed,when,leapingthroughthesewindows,and down among us pele-mele, fighting, stamping, scratching, and howling,there rushed a perfect army of what I took to be Chimpanzees, Ourang-Outangs,orbigblackbaboonsoftheCapeofGoodHope.Ireceivedaterriblebeating—afterwhichIrolledunderasofaandlaystill.

After lying theresomefifteenminutes,duringwhich timeI listenedwithallmy ears to what was going on in the room, I came to same satisfactorydenouementofthistragedy.MonsieurMaillard,itappeared,ingivingmetheaccount of the lunatic who had excited his fellows to rebellion, had beenmerely relating his own exploits. This gentleman had, indeed, some two orthree years before, been the superintendent of the establishment, but grew

crazy himself, and so became a patient. This fact was unknown to thetravellingcompanionwhointroducedme.Thekeepers,teninnumber,havingbeensuddenlyoverpowered,werefirstwelltarred,then—carefullyfeathered,andthenshutupinundergroundcells.Theyhadbeensoimprisonedformorethanamonth,duringwhichperiodMonsieurMaillardhadgenerouslyallowedthemnotonlythetarandfeathers(whichconstitutedhis"system"),butsomebread and abundance of water. The latter was pumped on them daily. Atlength,oneescapingthroughasewer,gavefreedomtoalltherest.The"soothingsystem,"with importantmodifications,hasbeen resumedat

thechateau;yetIcannothelpagreeingwithMonsieurMaillard,thathisown"treatment"wasaverycapitaloneof itskind.Ashe justlyobserved, itwas"simple—neat—andgavenotroubleatall—nottheleast."Ihaveonlytoaddthat,althoughIhavesearchedeverylibraryinEuropefor

theworksofDoctorTarrandProfessorFether,Ihave,uptothepresentday,utterlyfailedinmyendeavorsatprocuringanedition.

HOWTOWRITEABLACKWOODARTICLE.

"InthenameoftheProphet—figs!!"

CryoftheTurkishfig-peddler.

IPRESUMEeverybodyhasheardofme.Myname is theSignoraPsycheZenobia.ThisIknowtobeafact.NobodybutmyenemiesevercallsmeSukySnobbs. Ihavebeenassured thatSuky isbutavulgarcorruptionofPsyche,which is good Greek, and means "the soul" (that's me, I'm all soul) andsometimes "a butterfly," which latter meaning undoubtedly alludes to myappearance in my new crimson satin dress, with the sky-blue Arabianmantelet, and the trimmings of green agraffas, and the seven flounces oforange-coloredauriculas.AsforSnobbs—anypersonwhoshouldlookatmewouldbe instantly aware thatmynamewasn'tSnobbs.MissTabithaTurnippropagatedthatreportthroughsheerenvy.TabithaTurnipindeed!Ohthelittlewretch!Butwhatcanweexpectfromaturnip?Wonderifsherememberstheoldadageabout"bloodoutofaturnip,"&c.?[Mem.putherinmindofitthefirstopportunity.][Mem.again—pullhernose.]WherewasI?Ah!IhavebeenassuredthatSnobbsisamerecorruptionofZenobia,andthatZenobiawasaqueen—(SoamI.Dr.MoneypennyalwayscallsmetheQueenoftheHearts)—andthatZenobia,aswellasPsyche,isgoodGreek,andthatmyfatherwas"aGreek," and that consequently I have a right to ourpatronymic,which isZenobiaandnotbyanymeansSnobbs.NobodybutTabithaTurnipcallsmeSukySnobbs.IamtheSignoraPsycheZenobia.

AsIsaidbefore,everybodyhasheardofme.IamthatverySignoraPsycheZenobia,sojustlycelebratedascorrespondingsecretarytothe"Philadelphia,Regular, Exchange, Tea, Total, Young, Belles, Lettres, Universal,Experimental, Bibliographical, Association, To, Civilize, Humanity." Dr.Moneypennymadethetitleforus,andsayshechoseitbecauseitsoundedbiglikeanemptyrum-puncheon.(Avulgarmanthatsometimes—buthe'sdeep.)Weallsigntheinitialsofthesocietyafterournames,inthefashionoftheR.S.A.,Royal Society ofArts—theS.D.U.K., Society for theDiffusion ofUsefulKnowledge,&c,&c.Dr.MoneypennysaysthatS.standsforstale,andthatD.U.K.spellsduck,(butitdon't,)thatS.D.U.K.standsforStaleDuckand not for Lord Brougham's society—but then Dr.Moneypenny is such aqueermanthatIamneversurewhenheistellingmethetruth.AtanyratewealwaysaddtoournamestheinitialsP.R.E.T.T.Y.B.L.U.E.B.A.T.C.H.—that is to say,Philadelphia,Regular,Exchange,Tea,Total,Young,Belles,Lettres, Universal, Experimental, Bibliographical, Association, To, Civilize,Humanity—one letter for eachword,which is a decided improvement uponLordBrougham.Dr.Moneypennywill have it that our initials giveour truecharacter—butformylifeIcan'tseewhathemeans.NotwithstandingthegoodofficesoftheDoctor,andthestrenuousexertions

of the association to get itself intonotice, itmetwithnoverygreat successuntil I joined it.The truth is, themembers indulged in tooflippanta toneofdiscussion.ThepapersreadeverySaturdayeveningwerecharacterizedlessbydepth than buffoonery. They were all whipped syllabub. There was noinvestigationoffirstcauses,firstprinciples.Therewasnoinvestigationofanything at all. There was no attention paid to that great point, the "fitness ofthings."Inshorttherewasnofinewritinglikethis.Itwasalllow—very!Noprofundity, no reading, no metaphysics—nothing which the learned callspirituality,andwhichtheunlearnedchoosetostigmatizeascant.[Dr.M.saysIoughttospell"cant"withacapitalK—butIknowbetter.]WhenIjoinedthesocietyitwasmyendeavortointroduceabetterstyleof

thinkingandwriting,andalltheworldknowshowwellIhavesucceeded.WegetupasgoodpapersnowintheP.R.E.T.T.Y.B.L.U.E.B.A.T.C.H.asany tobe foundeven inBlackwood. I say,Blackwood,because Ihavebeenassured that thefinestwriting,uponeverysubject, is tobediscovered in thepagesofthatjustlycelebratedMagazine.Wenowtakeitforourmodeluponallthemes,andaregettingintorapidnoticeaccordingly.And,afterall,it'snotso very difficult a matter to compose an article of the genuine Blackwoodstamp, if one only goes properly about it. Of course I don't speak of thepolitical articles. Everybody knows how they are managed, since Dr.Moneypenny explained it. Mr. Blackwood has a pair of tailor's-shears, andthreeapprenticeswho standbyhim fororders.Onehandshim the "Times,"another the "Examiner"anda thirda "Culley'sNewCompendiumofSlang-

Whang."Mr.B.merelycutsoutandintersperses.Itissoondone—nothingbut"Examiner," "Slang-Whang," and "Times"—then "Times," "Slang-Whang,"and"Examiner"—andthen"Times,""Examiner,"and"Slang-Whang."ButthechiefmeritoftheMagazineliesinitsmiscellaneousarticles;andthe

best of these come under the head of what Dr. Moneypenny calls thebizarreries (whatever that may mean) and what everybody else calls theintensities. This is a species of writing which I have long known how toappreciate,althoughitisonlysincemylatevisittoMr.Blackwood(deputedby the society) that I have been made aware of the exact method ofcomposition.Thismethodisverysimple,butnotsomuchsoas thepolitics.Upon my calling at Mr. B.'s, and making known to him the wishes of thesociety,hereceivedmewithgreatcivility,tookmeintohisstudy,andgavemeaclearexplanationofthewholeprocess."Mydearmadam,"saidhe,evidentlystruckwithmymajesticappearance,

for I had on the crimson satin, with the green agraffas, and orange-coloredauriclas."Mydearmadam,"saidhe,"sitdown.Thematterstandsthus:Inthefirstplaceyourwriterofintensitiesmusthaveveryblackink,andaverybigpen, with a very blunt nib. And, mark me, Miss Psyche Zenobia!" hecontinued, after a pause, with themost expressive energy and solemnity ofmanner,"markme!—thatpen—must—neverbemended!Herein,madam,liesthe secret, the soul, of intensity. I assume upon myself to say, that noindividual,ofhowevergreatgeniuseverwrotewithagoodpen—understandme,—agoodarticle.Youmaytake,itforgranted,thatwhenmanuscriptcanbereaditisneverworthreading.Thisisaleadingprincipleinourfaith,towhichifyoucannotreadilyassent,ourconferenceisatanend."Hepaused.But,ofcourse,asIhadnowishtoputanendtotheconference,I

assentedtoapropositionsoveryobvious,andone,too,ofwhosetruthIhadall alongbeen sufficiently aware.He seemedpleased, andwent onwith hisinstructions."Itmayappear invidious inme,MissPsycheZenobia, to referyou toany

article,orsetofarticles, in thewayofmodelorstudy,yetperhapsImayaswell call your attention to a few cases. Let me see. There was 'The DeadAlive,' a capital thing!—the record of a gentleman's sensations whenentombed before the breath was out of his body—full of tastes, terror,sentiment,metaphysics,anderudition.Youwouldhaveswornthat thewriterhadbeenbornandbroughtupinacoffin.Thenwehadthe'ConfessionsofanOpium-eater'—fine,veryfine!—gloriousimagination—deepphilosophyacutespeculation—plenty of fire and fury, and a good spicing of the decidedlyunintelligible.Thatwasanicebitofflummery,andwentdownthethroatsofthepeopledelightfully.Theywouldhaveit thatColeridgewrotethepaper—but not so. It was composed bymy pet baboon, Juniper, over a rummer ofHollandsandwater,'hot,withoutsugar.'"[ThisIcouldscarcelyhavebelieved

haditbeenanybodybutMr.Blackwood,whoassuredmeofit.]"Thentherewas'TheInvoluntaryExperimentalist,'allaboutagentlemanwhogotbakedinanoven,andcameoutaliveandwell,althoughcertainlydonetoaturn.Andthen therewas 'TheDiaryof aLatePhysician,'where themerit lay ingoodrant,andindifferentGreek—bothofthemtakingthingswiththepublic.Andthentherewas'TheManintheBell,'apaperby-the-by,MissZenobia,whichIcannotsufficiently recommend toyourattention. It is thehistoryofayoungpersonwhogoestosleepundertheclapperofachurchbell,andisawakenedby its tolling for a funeral. The sound drives him mad, and, accordingly,pullingouthistablets,hegivesarecordofhissensations.Sensationsarethegreatthingsafterall.Shouldyoueverbedrownedorhung,besureandmakeanoteofyoursensations—theywillbeworthtoyoutenguineasasheet.Ifyouwishtowriteforcibly,MissZenobia,payminuteattentiontothesensations.""ThatIcertainlywill,Mr.Blackwood,"saidI."Good!"hereplied."Iseeyouareapupilaftermyownheart.ButImustput

youaufaittothedetailsnecessaryincomposingwhatmaybedenominatedagenuineBlackwoodarticleof the sensation stamp—thekindwhichyouwillunderstandmetosayIconsiderthebestforallpurposes."Thefirstthingrequisiteistogetyourselfintosuchascrapeasnooneever

gotintobefore.Theoven,forinstance,—thatwasagoodhit.Butifyouhavenoovenorbigbell,athand,andifyoucannotconveniently tumbleoutofaballoon,orbeswallowedupinanearthquake,orgetstuckfastinachimney,you will have to be contented with simply imagining some similarmisadventure. Ishouldprefer,however, thatyouhave theactual fact tobearyouout.Nothingsowellassists the fancy,asanexperimentalknowledgeofthe matter in hand. 'Truth is strange,' you know, 'stranger than fiction'—besidesbeingmoretothepurpose."HereIassuredhimIhadanexcellentpairofgarters,andwouldgoandhang

myselfforthwith."Good!" he replied, "do so;—although hanging is somewhat hacknied.

Perhapsyoumightdobetter.TakeadoseofBrandreth'spills,andthengiveusyour sensations. However, my instructions will apply equally well to anyvarietyofmisadventure,andinyourwayhomeyoumayeasilygetknockedinthehead,orrunoverbyanomnibus,orbittenbyamaddog,ordrownedinagutter.Buttoproceed."Havingdetermineduponyoursubject,youmustnextconsiderthetone,or

manner,ofyournarration.Thereisthetonedidactic,thetoneenthusiastic,thetonenatural—allcommon—placeenough.Butthenthereisthetonelaconic,or curt,whichhas lately comemuch intouse. It consists in short sentences.Somehowthus:Can'tbetoobrief.Can'tbetoosnappish.Alwaysafullstop.Andneveraparagraph.

"Then there is the toneelevated,diffusive,and interjectional.Someofourbest novelists patronize this tone. The words must be all in a whirl, like ahumming-top,andmakeanoiseverysimilar,whichanswersremarkablywellinsteadofmeaning.Thisisthebestofallpossiblestyleswherethewriterisintoogreatahurrytothink."Thetonemetaphysicalisalsoagoodone.Ifyouknowanybigwordsthisis

your chance for them. Talk of the Ionic and Eleatic schools—of Archytas,Gorgias,andAlcmaeon.Saysomethingaboutobjectivityandsubjectivity.BesureandabuseamannamedLocke.Turnupyournoseat things ingeneral,andwhen you let slip any thing a little too absurd, you need not be at thetrouble of scratching it out, but just add a footnote and say that you areindebted for the above profound observation to the 'Kritik der reinemVernunft,'ortothe'MetaphysitheAnfongsgrundederNoturwissenchaft.'Thiswouldlookeruditeand—and—andfrank."There are variousother tonesof equal celebrity, but I shallmentiononly

twomore—thetonetranscendentalandthetoneheterogeneous.Intheformerthemeritconsistsinseeingintothenatureofaffairsaverygreatdealfartherthananybodyelse.Thissecondsightisveryefficientwhenproperlymanaged.Alittlereadingofthe 'Dial'willcarryyouagreatway.Eschew,inthiscase,bigwords;getthemassmallaspossible,andwritethemupsidedown.LookoverChanning'spoemsandquotewhathesaysabouta 'fat littlemanwithadelusive showofCan.' Put in something about theSupernalOneness.Don'tsay a syllable about the Infernal Twoness. Above all, study innuendo. Hinteverything—assert nothing. If you feel inclined to say 'bread andbutter,' donot by any means say it outright. You may say any thing and every thingapproaching to 'bread and butter.'Youmay hint at buck-wheat cake, or youmayevengosofarastoinsinuateoat-mealporridge,butifbreadandbutterbeyourrealmeaning,becautious,mydearMissPsyche,notonanyaccounttosay'breadandbutter!'"IassuredhimthatIshouldneversayitagainas longasI lived.Hekissed

meandcontinued:"As for the tone heterogeneous, it ismerely a judiciousmixture, in equal

proportions,ofalltheothertonesintheworld,andisconsequentlymadeupofeverythingdeep,great,odd,piquant,pertinent,andpretty."Let us suppose now you have determined upon your incidents and tone.

Themostimportantportion—infact,thesoulofthewholebusiness,isyettobeattendedto—Ialludetothefillingup.Itisnottobesupposedthatalady,orgentlemaneither,hasbeenleadingthelifeofabookworm.Andyetaboveallthingsitisnecessarythatyourarticlehaveanairoferudition,oratleastaffordevidence of extensive general reading. Now I'll put you in the way ofaccomplishing this point. See here!" (pulling down some three or fourordinary-lookingvolumes,andopeningthematrandom)."Bycastingyoureye

downalmostanypageofanybookintheworld,youwillbeabletoperceiveatonceahostoflittlescrapsofeitherlearningorbel-espritism,whicharethevery thing for the spicing of a Blackwood article. You might as well notedownafewwhileIreadthemtoyou.Ishallmaketwodivisions:first,PiquantFactsfortheManufactureofSimiles,and,second,PiquantExpressionstobeintroducedasoccasionmayrequire.Writenow!"—andIwroteashedictated."PIQUANTFACTSFORSIMILES.'TherewereoriginallybutthreeMuses

—Melete,Mneme,Aoede—meditation,memory,andsinging.'Youmaymakeagooddealof that little fact ifproperlyworked.Yousee it isnotgenerallyknown, and looks recherche.Youmust be careful andgive the thingwith adownrightimprovisoair."Again. 'The river Alpheus passed beneath the sea, and emerged without

injurytothepurityofitswaters.'Ratherstalethat,tobesure,but,ifproperlydressedanddishedup,willlookquiteasfreshasever."Here is something better. 'The Persian Iris appears to some persons to

possess a sweet and very powerful perfume, while to others it is perfectlyscentless.' Fine that, and very delicate! Turn it about a little, and it will dowonders.We'llhavesomethingelseinthebotanicalline.There'snothinggoesdownsowell,especiallywiththehelpofalittleLatin.Write!"'TheEpidendrumFlosAeris,ofJava,bearsaverybeautifulflower,andwill

livewhenpulledupby the roots.Thenatives suspend itbyacord from theceiling,andenjoyitsfragranceforyears.'That'scapital!Thatwilldoforthesimiles.NowforthePiquantExpressions."PIQUANT EXPRESSIONS. 'The Venerable Chinese novel Ju-Kiao-Li.'

Good! By introducing these fewwordswith dexterity youwill evince yourintimate acquaintancewith the language and literature of theChinese.WiththeaidofthisyoumayeithergetalongwithouteitherArabic,orSanscrit,orChickasaw. There is no passing muster, however, without Spanish, Italian,German,Latin,andGreek.Imustlookyououtalittlespecimenofeach.Anyscrapwillanswer,becauseyoumustdependuponyourowningenuitytomakeitfitintoyourarticle.Nowwrite!"'AussitendrequeZaire'—astenderasZaire-French.Alludestothefrequent

repetitionof thephrase, la tendreZaire, in theFrench tragedyof thatname.Properlyintroduced,willshownotonlyyourknowledgeofthelanguage,butyourgeneralreadingandwit.Youcansay,forinstance,thatthechickenyouwereeating(writeanarticleaboutbeingchokedtodeathbyachicken-bone)wasnotaltogetheraussitendrequeZaire.Write!

'Vanmuertetanescondida,

Quenotesientavenir,

Porqueelplazerdelmorir,

Nomestorneadarlavida.'

"That'sSpanish—fromMigueldeCervantes.'Comequickly,Odeath!butbesure and don't letme see you coming, lest the pleasure I shall feel at your

appearance shouldunfortunatelybringmeback again to life.'This youmayslip in quite a propos when you are struggling in the last agonies with thechicken-bone.Write!'Il pover 'huomo che non se'n era accorto, Andava combattendo, e era

morto.'"That's Italian, you perceive—fromAriosto. Itmeans that a great hero, in

theheatofcombat,notperceivingthathehadbeenfairlykilled,continuedtofight valiantly, dead as hewas. The application of this to your own case isobvious—forItrust,MissPsyche,thatyouwillnotneglecttokickforatleastanhourandahalfafteryouhavebeenchokedtodeathbythatchicken-bone.Pleasetowrite!'Undsterb'ichdoch,nosterb'ichdennDurchsie—durchsie!'"That'sGerman—fromSchiller. 'And if I die, at least I die—for thee—for

thee!'Hereitisclearthatyouareapostrophizingthecauseofyourdisaster,thechicken. Indeed what gentleman (or lady either) of sense, wouldn't die, Ishould like to know, for a well fattened capon of the rightMolucca breed,stuffed with capers and mushrooms, and served up in a salad-bowl, withorange-jelliesenmosaiques.Write!(YoucangetthemthatwayatTortoni's)—Write,ifyouplease!"HereisanicelittleLatinphrase,andraretoo,(onecan'tbetoorechercheor

brief in one's Latin, it's getting so common—ignoratio elenchi. He hascommittedanignoratioelenchi—thatistosay,hehasunderstoodthewordsofyourproposition,butnot the idea.Themanwasa fool,yousee.Somepoorfellow whom you address while choking with that chicken-bone, and whothereforedidn'tpreciselyunderstandwhatyouweretalkingabout.Throwtheignoratio elenchi in his teeth, and, at once, you have him annihilated. If hedarestoreply,youcantellhimfromLucan(hereitis)thatspeechesaremereanemonaeverborum,anemonewords.Theanemone,withgreatbrilliancy,hasno smell. Or, if he begins to bluster, you may be down upon him withinsomniaJovis,reveriesofJupiter—aphrasewhichSiliusItalicus(seehere!)appliestothoughtspompousandinflated.Thiswillbesureandcuthimtotheheart.He can do nothing but roll over and die.Will you be kind enough towrite?"In Greek we must have some thing pretty—from Demosthenes, for

example.[Greekphrase][Anerhopheugoenkaipalinmakesetai]Thereisatolerablygoodtranslation

ofitinHudibras'Forhethatfliesmayfightagain,

Whichhecanneverdothat'sslain.'

"InaBlackwoodarticlenothingmakessofineashowasyourGreek.Thevery lettershaveanairofprofundityabout them.Onlyobserve,madam, the

astutelookofthatEpsilon!ThatPhioughtcertainlytobeabishop!WaseverthereasmarterfellowthanthatOmicron?JusttwigthatTau!Inshort,thereisnothing like Greek for a genuine sensation-paper. In the present case yourapplicationisthemostobviousthingintheworld.Rapoutthesentence,withahuge oath, and byway of ultimatum at the good-for-nothing dunder-headedvillainwhocouldn'tunderstandyourplainEnglishinrelationtothechicken-bone.He'lltakethehintandbeoff,youmaydependuponit."These were all the instructionsMr. B. could affordme upon the topic in

question,butIfelt theywouldbeentirelysufficient.Iwas,at length,abletowriteagenuineBlackwoodarticle,anddeterminedtodoitforthwith.Intakingleave ofme,Mr.B.made a proposition for the purchase of the paperwhenwritten;butashecouldoffermeonlyfiftyguineasasheet,Ithoughtitbettertoletoursocietyhaveit,thansacrificeitforsopaltryasum.Notwithstandingthisniggardlyspirit,however,thegentlemanshowedhisconsiderationformein all other respects, and indeed treated me with the greatest civility. Hisparting words made a deep impression upon my heart, and I hope I shallalwaysrememberthemwithgratitude."MydearMissZenobia,"hesaid,whilethetearsstoodinhiseyes,"isthere

anythingelse Icando topromote thesuccessofyour laudableundertaking?Let me reflect! It is just possible that you may not be able, so soon asconvenient, to—to—getyourselfdrowned,or—chokedwithachicken-bone,or—or hung,—or—bitten by a—but stay!Now I thinkme of it, there are acoupleofveryexcellentbull-dogs in theyard—fine fellows, I assureyou—savage,andall that—indeedjust thethingforyourmoney—they'llhaveyoueatenup,auriculaandall, in less thanfiveminutes (here'smywatch!)—andthen only think of the sensations! Here! I say—Tom!—Peter!—Dick, youvillain!—let out those"—but as I was really in a great hurry, and had notanothermoment to spare, Iwas reluctantly forced toexpeditemydeparture,andaccordingly took leave at once—somewhatmore abruptly, I admit, thanstrictcourtesywouldhaveotherwiseallowed.Itwasmy primary object upon quittingMr. Blackwood, to get into some

immediate difficulty, pursuant to his advice, and with this view I spent thegreater part of theday inwandering aboutEdinburgh, seeking for desperateadventures—adventuresadequatetotheintensityofmyfeelings,andadaptedtothevastcharacterofthearticleIintendedtowrite.InthisexcursionIwasattendedbyonenegro—servant,Pompey,andmylittlelap-dogDiana,whomIhadbroughtwithmefromPhiladelphia.Itwasnot,however,untillateintheafternoon that I fully succeeded in my arduous undertaking. An importantevent then happened ofwhich the followingBlackwood article, in the toneheterogeneous,isthesubstanceandresult.

APREDICAMENT

Whatchance,goodlady,hathbereftyouthus?

—COMUS.

ITwasaquietandstillafternoonwhenIstrolledforthinthegoodlycityofEdina.Theconfusionandbustleinthestreetswereterrible.Menweretalking.Womenwere screaming.Childrenwere choking. Pigswerewhistling.Cartstheyrattled.Bullstheybellowed.Cowstheylowed.Horsestheyneighed.Catsthey caterwauled. Dogs they danced. Danced! Could it then be possible?Danced!Alas, thought I,mydancingdaysareover!Thus it is ever.Whatahostofgloomyrecollectionswilleverandanonbeawakenedin themindofgenius and imaginative contemplation, especially of a genius doomed to theeverlastingandeternal,andcontinual,and,asonemightsay, the—continued—yes,thecontinuedandcontinuous,bitter,harassing,disturbing,and,ifImaybe allowed the expression, the very disturbing influence of the serene, andgodlike,andheavenly,andexalted,andelevated,andpurifyingeffectofwhatmay be rightly termed themost enviable, themost truly enviable—nay! themost benignly beautiful, the most deliciously ethereal, and, as it were, themost pretty (if I may use so bold an expression) thing (pardon me, gentlereader!) in theworld—but I am always led away bymy feelings. In such amind,Irepeat,whatahostofrecollectionsarestirredupbyatrifle!Thedogsdanced!I—Icouldnot!Theyfrisked—Iwept.Theycapered—Isobbedaloud.Touchingcircumstances!whichcannotfail tobringtotherecollectionoftheclassicalreaderthatexquisitepassageinrelationtothefitnessofthings,whichistobefoundinthecommencementofthethirdvolumeofthatadmirableandvenerableChinesenoveltheJo-Go-Slow.In my solitary walk through, the city I had two humble but faithful

companions.Diana,mypoodle!sweetestofcreatures!Shehadaquantityofhair over her one eye, and ablue ribband tied fashionably aroundherneck.Dianawasnotmore than five inches in height, but her headwas somewhatbiggerthanherbody,andhertailbeingcutoffexceedinglyclose,gaveanairof injured innocence to the interesting animalwhich renderedher a favoritewithall.And Pompey,my negro!—sweet Pompey! how shall I ever forget thee? I

hadtakenPompey'sarm.Hewasthreefeet inheight(I like tobeparticular)andaboutseventy,orperhapseighty,yearsofage.Hehadbow-legsandwascorpulent.Hismouthshouldnotbecalledsmall,norhisearsshort.Histeeth,however, were like pearl, and his large full eyes were deliciously white.Naturehad endowedhimwithnoneck, andhadplacedhis ankles (asusualwiththatrace)inthemiddleoftheupperportionofthefeet.Hewascladwithastrikingsimplicity.Hissolegarmentswereastockofnineinchesinheight,

andanearly—newdrabovercoatwhichhad formerlybeen in the serviceofthetall,stately,andillustriousDr.Moneypenny.Itwasagoodovercoat.Itwaswellcut.Itwaswellmade.Thecoatwasnearlynew.Pompeyhelditupoutofthedirtwithbothhands.Therewere threepersons inourparty,and twoof themhavealreadybeen

the subject of remark.Therewas a third—that personwasmyself. I am theSignora Psyche Zenobia. I am not Suky Snobbs. My appearance iscommanding.OnthememorableoccasionofwhichIspeakIwashabitedinacrimson satin dress, with a sky-blue Arabian mantelet. And the dress hadtrimmingsofgreenagraffas,andsevengracefulflouncesoftheorange-coloredauricula.Ithusformedthethirdoftheparty.Therewasthepoodle.TherewasPompey. There was myself. We were three. Thus it is said there wereoriginallybutthreeFuries—Melty,Nimmy,andHetty—Meditation,Memory,andFiddling.LeaninguponthearmofthegallantPompey,andattendedatarespectable

distancebyDiana, Iproceededdownoneof thepopulousandverypleasantstreetsofthenowdesertedEdina.Onasudden,therepresenteditselftoviewachurch—aGothic cathedral—vast, venerable, andwith a tall steeple, whichtoweredintothesky.Whatmadnessnowpossessedme?WhydidIrushuponmy fate? I was seized with an uncontrollable desire to ascend the giddypinnacle, and then survey the immense extent of the city. The door of thecathedralstood invitinglyopen.Mydestinyprevailed. Ientered theominousarchway.Wherethenwasmyguardianangel?—ifindeedsuchangelstherebe.If!Distressingmonosyllable!whatworldofmystery,andmeaning,anddoubt,and uncertainty is there involved in thy two letters! I entered the ominousarchway! I entered; and, without injury to my orange-colored auriculas, Ipassedbeneaththeportal,andemergedwithinthevestibule.ThusitissaidtheimmenseriverAlfredpassed,unscathed,andunwetted,beneaththesea.I thought the staircase would never have an end. Round! Yes, they went

round and up, and round and up and round and up, until I could not helpsurmising,withthesagaciousPompey,uponwhosesupportingarmIleanedinalltheconfidenceofearlyaffection—Icouldnothelpsurmisingthattheupperend of the continuous spiral ladder had been accidentally, or perhapsdesignedly, removed. I paused for breath; and, in themeantime, an accidentoccurred of toomomentous a nature in amoral, and also in ametaphysicalpointofview, tobepassedoverwithoutnotice.Itappearedtome—indeedIwasquiteconfidentofthefact—Icouldnotbemistaken—no!Ihad,forsomemoments,carefullyandanxiouslyobserved themotionsofmyDiana—Isaythat I couldnot bemistaken—Diana smelt a rat!At once I calledPompey'sattentiontothesubject,andhe—heagreedwithme.Therewasthennolongerany reasonable room for doubt. The rat had been smelled—and by Diana.Heavens!shallIeverforgettheintenseexcitementofthemoment?Alas!what

is theboastedintellectofman?Therat!—itwasthere—that is tosay, itwassomewhere.Dianasmelledtherat.I—Icouldnot!ThusitissaidthePrussianIsishas,forsomepersons,asweetandverypowerfulperfume,whiletoothersitisperfectlyscentless.Thestaircasehadbeensurmounted,andtherewerenowonlythreeorfour

moreupwardstepsinterveningbetweenusandthesummit.Westillascended,andnowonlyone step remained.One step!One little, little step!Upononesuchlittlestepinthegreatstaircaseofhumanlifehowvastasumofhumanhappinessormiserydepends!Ithoughtofmyself,thenofPompey,andthenofthe mysterious and inexplicable destiny which surrounded us. I thought ofPompey!—alas, I thought of love! I thought ofmymany false stepswhichhavebeentaken,andmaybetakenagain.Iresolvedtobemorecautious,morereserved. I abandoned the arm of Pompey, and, without his assistance,surmounted the one remaining step, and gained the chamber of the belfry. Iwas followed immediatelyafterwardbymypoodle.Pompeyalone remainedbehind.Istoodattheheadofthestaircase,andencouragedhimtoascend.Hestretched forth tome his hand, and unfortunately in so doingwas forced toabandon his firm hold upon the overcoat. Will the gods never cease theirpersecution? The overcoat is dropped, and, with one of his feet, Pompeysteppeduponthelongandtrailingskirtoftheovercoat.Hestumbledandfell—this consequence was inevitable. He fell forward, and, with his accursedhead,strikingmefullinthe—inthebreast,precipitatedmeheadlong,togetherwithhimself,uponthehard,filthy,anddetestablefloorofthebelfry.Butmyrevengewas sure, sudden, and complete.Seizinghim furiouslyby thewoolwith both hands, I tore out a vast quantity of black, and crisp, and curlingmaterial, and tossed it fromme with every manifestation of disdain. It fellamongtheropesofthebelfryandremained.Pompeyarose,andsaidnoword.Butheregardedmepiteouslywithhislargeeyesand—sighed.YeGods—thatsigh!Itsunkintomyheart.Andthehair—thewool!CouldIhavereachedthatwoolIwouldhavebatheditwithmytears,intestimonyofregret.Butalas!itwasnowfarbeyondmygrasp.Asitdangledamongthecordageofthebell,Ifancied it alive. I fancied that it stood on end with indignation. Thus thehappy-dandyFlosAerisofJavabears,itissaid,abeautifulflower,whichwilllivewhenpulledupby the roots.Thenatives suspend itbyacord from theceilingandenjoyitsfragranceforyears.Our quarrel was now made up, and we looked about the room for an

aperturethroughwhichtosurveythecityofEdina.Windowstherewerenone.The sole light admitted into the gloomy chamber proceeded from a squareopening, about a foot in diameter, at a height of about seven feet from thefloor.Yetwhatwilltheenergyoftruegeniusnoteffect?Iresolvedtoclamberup to this hole. A vast quantity of wheels, pinions, and other cabalistic—lookingmachinery stoodopposite thehole, close to it; and through thehole

therepassedanironrodfromthemachinery.Betweenthewheelsandthewallwheretheholelaytherewasbarelyroomformybody—yetIwasdesperate,anddeterminedtopersevere.IcalledPompeytomyside."You perceive that aperture, Pompey. I wish to look through it. You will

stand here just beneath the hole—so. Now, hold out one of your hands,Pompey, and letme step upon it—thus. Now, the other hand, Pompey, andwithitsaidIwillgetuponyourshoulders."HedideverythingIwished,andIfound,upongettingup,thatIcouldeasily

pass my head and neck through the aperture. The prospect was sublime.Nothingcouldbemoremagnificent.ImerelypausedamomenttobidDianabehave herself, and assure Pompey that Iwould be considerate and bear aslightly as possible upon his shoulders. I told him I would be tender of hisfeelings—ossi tender que beefsteak.Having done this justice tomy faithfulfriend, Igavemyselfupwithgreatzest andenthusiasm to theenjoymentofthescenewhichsoobliginglyspreaditselfoutbeforemyeyes.Uponthissubject,however,Ishallforbeartodilate.Iwillnotdescribethe

cityofEdinburgh.EveryonehasbeentothecityofEdinburgh.EveryonehasbeentoEdinburgh—theclassicEdina.Iwillconfinemyselftothemomentousdetailsofmyown lamentableadventure.Having, insomemeasure, satisfiedmycuriosity inregard to theextent,situation,andgeneralappearanceof thecity, I had leisure to survey the church in which I was, and the delicatearchitecture of the steeple. I observed that the aperture throughwhich I hadthrustmyheadwasanopeninginthedial-plateofagiganticclock,andmusthaveappeared,fromthestreet,asalargekey-hole,suchasweseeinthefaceof theFrenchwatches.Nodoubt the trueobjectwas toadmit thearmofanattendant, to adjust, when necessary, the hands of the clock from within. Iobservedalso,withsurprise, theimmensesizeof thesehands, thelongestofwhichcouldnothavebeen less than ten feet in length,and,wherebroadest,eightornineinchesinbreadth.Theywereofsolidsteelapparently,andtheiredgesappearedtobesharp.Havingnoticedtheseparticulars,andsomeothers,I again turnedmy eyes upon the glorious prospect below, and soonbecameabsorbedincontemplation.Fromthis,aftersomeminutes,IwasarousedbythevoiceofPompey,who

declaredthathecouldstanditnolonger,andrequestedthatIwouldbesokindas to come down. Thiswas unreasonable, and I told him so in a speech ofsome length.He replied, butwith an evidentmisunderstanding ofmy ideasuponthesubject.Iaccordinglygrewangry,andtoldhiminplainwords,thathe was a fool, that he had committed an ignoramus e-clench-eye, that hisnotions were mere insommary Bovis, and his words little better than anennemywerrybor'em. With this he appeared satisfied, and I resumed mycontemplations.Itmighthavebeenhalfanhourafterthisaltercationwhen,asIwasdeeply

absorbed in the heavenly scenery beneath me, I was startled by somethingverycoldwhichpressedwithagentlepressureonthebackofmyneck.Itisneedless to say that I felt inexpressibly alarmed. I knew that Pompey wasbeneath my feet, and that Diana was sitting, according to my explicitdirections,uponherhindlegs,inthefarthestcorneroftheroom.Whatcoulditbe?Alas! I but too soon discovered.Turningmy head gently to one side, Iperceived, to my extreme horror, that the huge, glittering, scimetar-likeminute-handoftheclockhad,inthecourseofitshourlyrevolution,descendeduponmyneck.Therewas, I knew,not a second to be lost. I pulledback atonce—but itwas too late.Therewasnochanceof forcingmyhead throughthemouthofthatterribletrapinwhichitwassofairlycaught,andwhichgrewnarrowerandnarrowerwitharapiditytoohorribletobeconceived.Theagonyof thatmoment isnot tobe imagined.I threwupmyhandsandendeavored,withallmystrength,toforceupwardtheponderousironbar.Imightaswellhave tried to lift thecathedral itself.Down,down,down itcame,closerandyet closer. I screamed to Pompey for aid; but he said that I had hurt hisfeelingsbycallinghim'anignorantoldsquint-eye:'IyelledtoDiana;butsheonlysaid'bow-wow-wow,'andthatIhadtoldher 'onnoaccounttostirfromthecorner.'ThusIhadnorelieftoexpectfrommyassociates.MeantimetheponderousandterrificScytheofTime(forInowdiscovered

theliteralimportofthatclassicalphrase)hadnotstopped,norwasitlikelytostop,initscareer.Downandstilldown,itcame.Ithadalreadyburieditssharpedgeafullinchinmyflesh,andmysensationsgrewindistinctandconfused.AtonetimeIfanciedmyselfinPhiladelphiawiththestatelyDr.Moneypenny,at another in the back parlor of Mr. Blackwood receiving his invaluableinstructions.Andthenagainthesweetrecollectionofbetterandearliertimescameoverme,andIthoughtofthathappyperiodwhentheworldwasnotalladesert,andPompeynotaltogethercruel.The ticking of the machinery amused me. Amused me, I say, for my

sensations now bordered upon perfect happiness, and the most triflingcircumstancesaffordedmepleasure.Theeternalclick-clak,click-clak,click-clak of the clock was the most melodious of music in my ears, andoccasionallyevenputme inmindof thegracefulsermonicharanguesofDr.Ollapod. Then there were the great figures upon the dial-plate—howintelligent how intellectual, they all looked! And presently they took todancingtheMazurka,andIthinkitwasthefigureV.whoperformedthemostto my satisfaction. She was evidently a lady of breeding. None of yourswaggerers,andnothingatallindelicateinhermotions.Shedidthepirouettetoadmiration—whirlingrounduponherapex.Imadeanendeavortohandherachair,forIsawthatsheappearedfatiguedwithherexertions—anditwasnotuntil thenthatIfullyperceivedmylamentablesituation.Lamentableindeed!Thebarhadburieditselftwoinchesinmyneck.Iwasarousedtoasenseof

exquisitepain.Iprayedfordeath,and,intheagonyofthemoment,couldnothelprepeatingthoseexquisiteversesofthepoetMiguelDeCervantes:

VannyBuren,tanescondida

Querynotesentyvenny

Porkandpleasure,dellymorry

Nommy,torny,darry,widdy!

Butnowanewhorrorpresented itself, andone indeed sufficient to startlethe strongestnerves.Myeyes, from thecruelpressureof themachine,wereabsolutely starting from their sockets. While I was thinking how I shouldpossibly manage without them, one actually tumbled out of my head, and,rollingdownthesteepsideofthesteeple,lodgedintheraingutterwhichranalongtheeavesofthemainbuilding.Thelossoftheeyewasnotsomuchastheinsolentairofindependenceandcontemptwithwhichitregardedmeafteritwasout.There it lay in thegutter justundermynose,andtheairs itgaveitself would have been ridiculous had they not been disgusting. Such awinkingandblinkingwereneverbeforeseen.Thisbehavioronthepartofmyeye in thegutterwasnotonly irritatingonaccountof itsmanifest insolenceandshamefulingratitude,butwasalsoexceedinglyinconvenientonaccountofthe sympathy which always exists between two eyes of the same head,howeverfarapart.Iwasforced,inamanner,towinkandtoblink,whetherIwouldornot, in exact concertwith the scoundrelly thing that lay justundermynose.Iwaspresentlyrelieved,however,bythedroppingoutoftheothereye. In falling it took the same direction (possibly a concerted plot) as itsfellow.Bothrolledoutof thegutter together,andin truthIwasverygladtogetridofthem.Thebarwasnowfourinchesandahalfdeepinmyneck,andtherewasonly

alittlebitofskintocutthrough.Mysensationswerethoseofentirehappiness,for I felt that in a few minutes, at farthest, I should be relieved from mydisagreeable situation.And in this expectation Iwas not at all deceived.Attwenty-fiveminutespastfiveintheafternoon,precisely,thehugeminute-handhad proceeded sufficiently far on its terrible revolution to sever the smallremainderofmyneck.Iwasnotsorrytoseetheheadwhichhadoccasionedmesomuchembarrassmentatlengthmakeafinalseparationfrommybody.Itfirstrolleddownthesideofthesteeple,thenlodge,forafewseconds,inthegutter,andthenmadeitsway,withaplunge,intothemiddleofthestreet.Iwillcandidlyconfessthatmyfeelingswerenowofthemostsingular—nay,

of themostmysterious, themostperplexingandincomprehensiblecharacter.Mysenseswerehereandthereatoneandthesamemoment.WithmyheadIimagined,atonetime,thatI,thehead,wastherealSignoraPsycheZenobia—atanother I feltconvinced thatmyself, thebody,was theproper identity.Toclearmy ideason this topic I felt inmypocket formysnuff-box,but,upon

getting it, and endeavoring to apply a pinch of its grateful contents in theordinarymanner,Ibecameimmediatelyawareofmypeculiardeficiency,andthrewtheboxatoncedowntomyhead.Ittookapinchwithgreatsatisfaction,andsmiledmeanacknowledgementinreturn.Shortlyafterwarditmademeaspeech,which I could hear but indistinctlywithout ears. I gathered enough,however,toknowthatitwasastonishedatmywishingtoremainaliveundersuchcircumstances.IntheconcludingsentencesitquotedthenoblewordsofAriosto—

Ilpoverhommychenonseracorty

Andhaveacombattentyerrymorty;thuscomparingmetotheherowho,intheheatofthecombat,notperceivingthathewasdead,continuedtocontestthebattlewith inextinguishablevalor.Therewasnothingnowtopreventmygettingdownfrommyelevation,andIdidso.WhatitwasthatPompeysawsovery peculiar inmy appearance I have never yet been able to find out.Thefellowopenedhismouthfromeartoear,andshuthistwoeyesasifhewereendeavoringtocracknutsbetweenthelids.Finally,throwingoffhisovercoat,he made one spring for the staircase and disappeared. I hurled after thescoundrelthesevehementwordsofDemosthenes—AndrewO'Phlegethon,youreallymakehaste tofly,andthenturnedto the

darlingofmyheart, to theone-eyed! theshaggy-hairedDiana.Alas!whatahorriblevisionaffrontedmyeyes?WasthataratIsawskulkingintohishole?Arethesethepickedbonesofthelittleangelwhohasbeencruellydevouredbythemonster?Yegods!andwhatdoIbehold—isthatthedepartedspirit,theshade,theghost,ofmybelovedpuppy,whichIperceivesittingwithagracesomelancholy,inthecorner?Hearken!forshespeaks,and,heavens!itisintheGermanofSchiller—

"Untstubbyduk,sostubbydun

Dukshe!dukshe!"

Alas!andarenotherwordstootrue?

"AndifIdied,atleastIdied

Forthee—forthee."

Sweet creature! she too has sacrificed herself in my behalf. Dogless,niggerless, headless, what now remains for the unhappy Signora PsycheZenobia?Alas—nothing!Ihavedone.

MYSTIFICATION

Slid,ifthesebeyour"passados"and"montantes,"I'llhave

noneo'them.

—NEDKNOWLES.

THEBARONRITZNERVONJUNGwasanobleHungarianfamily,every

member ofwhich (at least as far back into antiquity as any certain recordsextend) was more or less remarkable for talent of some description—themajorityforthatspeciesofgrotesquerieinconceptionofwhichTieck,ascionof the house, has given a vivid, although by no means the most vividexemplifications. My acquaintance with Ritzner commenced at themagnificent Château Jung, intowhich a train of droll adventures, not to bemade public, threw a place in his regard, and here, with somewhat moredifficulty, a partial insight into his mental conformation. In later days thisinsightgrewmoreclear,astheintimacywhichhadatfirstpermitteditbecamemoreclose;andwhen,afterthreeyearsofthecharacteroftheBaronRitznervonJung.Irememberthebuzzofcuriositywhichhisadventexcitedwithinthecollege

precincts on the night of the twenty-fifth of June. I remember still moredistinctly,thatwhilehewaspronouncedbyallpartiesatfirstsight"themostremarkablemanintheworld,"nopersonmadeanyattemptataccountingforhisopinion.Thathewasuniqueappearedsoundeniable, that itwasdeemedimpertinenttoinquirewhereintheuniquityconsisted.But, lettingthismatterpassfor thepresent,Iwillmerelyobservethat,fromthefirstmomentofhissetting footwithin the limitsof theuniversity,hebegan toexerciseover thehabits, manners, persons, purses, and propensities of the whole communitywhichsurroundedhim,aninfluencethemostextensiveanddespotic,yetatthesame time the most indefinite and altogether unaccountable. Thus the briefperiod of his residence at the university forms an era in its annals, and ischaracterizedbyallclassesofpeopleappertainingtoitoritsdependenciesas"thatvery extraordinary epoch forming thedominationof theBaronRitznervonJung."thenofnoparticularage,bywhichImeanthatitwasimpossibletoform a guess respecting his age by any data personally afforded. Hemighthave been fifteen or fifty, andwas twenty-one years and sevenmonths.Hewasbynomeansahandsomeman—perhaps thereverse.Thecontourofhisfacewassomewhatangularandharsh.His foreheadwas loftyandvery fair;his nose a snub; his eyes large, heavy, glassy, and meaningless. About themouth therewasmore to be observed. The lipswere gently protruded, andrested the one upon the other, after such a fashion that it is impossible toconceive any, even the most complex, combination of human features,conveyingsoentirely,andsosingly,theideaofunmitigatedgravity,solemnityandrepose.Itwillbeperceived,nodoubt,fromwhatIhavealreadysaid,thattheBaron

wasoneofthosehumananomaliesnowandthentobefound,whomakethescience of mystification the study and the business of their lives. For thisscience a peculiar turn of mind gave him instinctively the cue, while hisphysicalappearanceaffordedhimunusualfacilitiesforcarryinghisprospectsintoeffect. Iquaintly termed thedominationof theBaronRitznervonJung,

everrightlyenteredintothemysterywhichovershadowedhischaracter.Itrulythink that no person at the university, with the exception of myself, eversuspectedhimtobecapableofajoke,verbalorpractical:—theoldbull-dogatthegarden-gatewouldsoonerhavebeenaccused,—theghostofHeraclitus,—or the wig of the Emeritus Professor of Theology. This, too, when it wasevident that themost egregious and unpardonable of all conceivable tricks,whimsicalitiesandbuffoonerieswerebroughtabout,ifnotdirectlybyhim,atleastplainly throughhis intermediateagencyorconnivance.Thebeauty, if Imaysocallit,ofhisartmystifique,layinthatconsummateability(resultingfromanalmost intuitiveknowledgeofhumannature, andamostwonderfulself-possession,)bymeansofwhichheneverfailedtomakeitappearthatthedrolleries hewas occupied in bringing to a point, arose partly in spite, andpartly in consequence of the laudable efforts he was making for theirprevention, and for the preservation of the good order and dignity ofAlmaMater.The deep, the poignant, the overwhelmingmortification,which uponeach such failure of his praise worthy endeavors, would suffuse everylineament of his countenance, left not the slightest room for doubt of hissincerityinthebosomsofevenhismostskepticalcompanions.Theadroitness,too,wasnolessworthyofobservationbywhichhecontrivedtoshiftthesenseofthegrotesquefromthecreatortothecreated—fromhisownpersontotheabsurdities towhichhehadgiven rise. Inno instancebefore thatofwhichIspeak,haveIknownthehabitualmystificescape thenaturalconsequenceofhis manoevres—an attachment of the ludicrous to his own character andperson.Continuallyenvelopedinanatmosphereofwhim,myfriendappearedtoliveonlyfortheseveritiesofsociety;andnotevenhisownhouseholdhaveforamomentassociatedotherideasthanthoseoftherigidandaugustwiththememoryoftheBaronRitznervonJung,thedemonofthedolcefarnientelaylikeanincubusupontheuniversity.Nothing,atleast,wasdonebeyondeatingand drinking and making merry. The apartments of the students wereconverted into somany pot-houses, and therewas no pot-house of them allmore famousormore frequented than that of theBaron.Our carousalshereweremany,andboisterous,andlong,andneverunfruitfulofevents.Upononeoccasionwehadprotractedoursittinguntilnearlydaybreak,and

anunusualquantityofwinehadbeendrunk.ThecompanyconsistedofsevenoreightindividualsbesidestheBaronandmyself.Mostofthesewereyoungmenofwealth,ofhighconnection,ofgreatfamilypride,andallalivewithanexaggeratedsenseofhonor.TheyaboundedinthemostultraGermanopinionsrespecting the duello. To these Quixotic notions some recent Parisianpublications,backedbythreeorfourdesperateandfatalconversation,duringthegreaterpartofthenight,hadrunwildupontheall—engrossingtopicofthetimes.TheBaron,whohadbeenunusuallysilentandabstractedintheearlierportionoftheevening,atlengthseemedtobearousedfromhisapathy,tooka

leadingpartinthediscourse,anddweltuponthebenefits,andmoreespeciallyuponthebeauties,of thereceivedcodeofetiquetteinpassagesofarmswithanardor,aneloquence,animpressiveness,andanaffectionatenessofmanner,which elicited the warmest enthusiasm from his hearers in general, andabsolutelystaggeredevenmyself,whowellknewhimtobeatheartaridiculerofthoseverypointsforwhichhecontended,andespeciallytoholdtheentirefanfaronadeofduellingetiquetteinthesovereigncontemptwhichitdeserves.Lookingaroundmeduringapause in theBaron'sdiscourse (ofwhichmy

readersmaygathersomefaintideawhenIsaythatitboreresemblancetothefervid, chanting,monotonous, yetmusical sermonicmannerofColeridge), Iperceivedsymptomsofevenmorethanthegeneralinterestinthecountenanceof one of the party. This gentleman, whom I shall call Hermann, was anoriginalineveryrespect—except,perhaps,inthesingleparticularthathewasaverygreatfool.Hecontrivedtobear,however,amongaparticularsetattheuniversity, a reputation for deep metaphysical thinking, and, I believe, forsomelogicaltalent.Asaduellisthehadacquiredwhohadfallenathishands;buttheyweremany.Hewasamanofcourageundoubtedly.Butitwasuponhisminuteacquaintancewiththeetiquetteoftheduello,andthenicetyofhissense of honor, that hemost especially prided himself. These thingswere ahobbywhichherode to thedeath.ToRitzner,everupon the lookout for thegrotesque, his peculiarities had for a long time past afforded food formystification. Of this, however, I was not aware; although, in the presentinstance,Isawclearlythatsomethingofawhimsicalnaturewasuponthetapiswithmyfriend,andthatHermannwasitsespecialobject.Astheformerproceededinhisdiscourse,orrathermonologueIperceived

theexcitementofthelattermomentlyincreasing.Atlengthhespoke;offeringsomeobjectiontoapointinsisteduponbyR.,andgivinghisreasonsindetail.TothesetheBaronrepliedatlength(stillmaintaininghisexaggeratedtoneofsentiment) andconcluding, inwhat I thoughtverybad taste,witha sarcasmandasneer.ThehobbyofHermannnowtookthebitinhisteeth.ThisIcoulddiscernby thestudiedhair-splittingfarragoofhis rejoinder.His lastwordsIdistinctly remember. "Your opinions, allow me to say, Baron von Jung,althoughinthemaincorrect,are,inmanynicepoints,discreditabletoyourselfand to theuniversityofwhichyouareamember. Ina fewrespects theyareevenunworthyof serious refutation. Iwould saymore than this, sir,were itnot for the fear of giving you offence (here the speaker smiled blandly), Iwouldsay,sir, thatyouropinionsarenot theopinionstobeexpectedfromagentleman."AsHermanncompleted thisequivocalsentence,alleyeswere turnedupon

theBaron.Hebecamepale, thenexcessively red; then,droppinghispocket-handkerchief, stooped to recover it, when I caught a glimpse of hiscountenance,whileitcouldbeseenbynooneelseatthetable.Itwasradiant

withthequizzicalexpressionwhichwasitsnaturalcharacter,butwhichIhadneverseenitassumeexceptwhenwewerealonetogether,andwhenheunbenthimself freely. In an instant afterward he stood erect, confrontingHermann;andsototalanalterationofcountenanceinsoshortaperiodIcertainlyneversawbefore. For amoment I even fancied that I hadmisconceived him, andthathewasinsoberearnest.Heappearedtobestiflingwithpassion,andhisfacewascadaverouslywhite.Forashort timeheremainedsilent,apparentlystriving to master his emotion. Having at length seemingly succeeded, hereachedadecanterwhichstoodnearhim,sayingashehelditfirmlyclenched"The language you have thought proper to employ, Mynheer Hermann, inaddressingyourselftome,isobjectionableinsomanyparticulars,thatIhaveneithertempernortimeforspecification.Thatmyopinions,however,arenotthe opinions to be expected from a gentleman, is an observation so directlyoffensiveastoallowmebutonelineofconduct.Somecourtesy,nevertheless,isduetothepresenceofthiscompany,andtoyourself,atthismoment,asmyguest. You will pardon me, therefore, if, upon this consideration, I deviateslightlyfromthegeneralusageamonggentlemeninsimilarcasesofpersonalaffront. You will forgive me for the moderate tax I shall make upon yourimagination, and endeavor to consider, for an instant, the reflection of yourperson inyondermirroras the livingMynheerHermannhimself.Thisbeingdone, therewill be no difficultywhatever. I shall discharge this decanter ofwine at your image inyondermirror, and thus fulfil all the spirit, if not theexact letter, of resentment for your insult, while the necessity of physicalviolencetoyourrealpersonwillbeobviated."With these words he hurled the decanter, full of wine, against themirror

which hung directly oppositeHermann; striking the reflection of his personwith great precision, and of course shattering the glass into fragments. Thewholecompanyatoncestartedtotheirfeet,and,withtheexceptionofmyselfandRitzner,tooktheirdeparture.AsHermannwentout,theBaronwhisperedme that I should follow him and make an offer of my services. To this Iagreed; not knowing precisely what to make of so ridiculous a piece ofbusiness.The duellist accepted my aid with his stiff and ultra recherche air, and,

takingmyarm,ledmetohisapartment.Icouldhardlyforbearlaughinginhisface while he proceeded to discuss, with the profoundest gravity, what hetermed"therefinedlypeculiarcharacter"oftheinsulthehadreceived.Afteratiresomeharangueinhisordinarystyle,hetookdownfromhisbookshelvesanumberofmustyvolumesonthesubjectoftheduello,andentertainedmeforalongtimewiththeircontents;readingaloud,andcommentingearnestlyasheread. I can just remember the titles of some of the works. There were the"OrdonnanceofPhilipleBelonSingleCombat";the"TheatreofHonor,"byFavyn, and a treatise "On the Permission of Duels," by Andiguier. He

displayed, also, with much pomposity, Brantome's "Memoirs of Duels,"—published atCologne, 1666, in the types ofElzevir—a precious and uniquevellum-paper volume, with a fine margin, and bound by Derome. But herequestedmyattentionparticularly,andwithanairofmysterioussagacity,toathick octavo, written in barbarous Latin by oneHedelin, a Frenchman, andhaving the quaint title, "Duelli LexScripta, et non; aliterque." From this heread me one of the drollest chapters in the world concerning "Injuriae perapplicationem,perconstructionem,etperse,"abouthalfofwhich,heaverred,wasstrictlyapplicabletohisown"refinedlypeculiar"case,althoughnotonesyllable of the whole matter could I understand for the life of me. Havingfinished the chapter, he closed the book, and demanded what I thoughtnecessary to be done. I replied that I had entire confidence in his superiordelicacyoffeeling,andwouldabidebywhatheproposed.Withthisanswerheseemedflattered,andsatdowntowriteanotetotheBaron.Itranthus:Sir,—Myfriend,M.P.-,willhandyouthisnote.Ifinditincumbentuponme

to request, at your earliest convenience, an explanation of this evening'soccurrencesatyourchambers.Intheeventofyourdecliningthisrequest,Mr.P.willbehappytoarrange,withanyfriendwhomyoumayappoint,thestepspreliminarytoameeting.Withsentimentsofperfectrespect,Yourmosthumbleservant,JOHANNHERMAN.TotheBaronRitznervonJung,Notknowingwhatbetter todo, IcalleduponRitznerwith thisepistle.He

bowed as I presented it; then,with a grave countenance,motionedme to aseat.Havingperusedthecartel,hewrotethefollowingreply,whichIcarriedtoHermann.SIR,—Throughourcommonfriend,Mr.P.,Ihavereceivedyournoteofthis

evening.UponduereflectionIfranklyadmittheproprietyoftheexplanationyou suggest. This being admitted, I still find great difficulty, (owing to therefinedly peculiar nature of our disagreement, and of the personal affrontofferedonmypart,)insowordingwhatIhavetosaybywayofapology,astomeet all theminute exigencies, and all the variable shadows, of the case. Ihave great reliance, however, on that extreme delicacy of discrimination, inmattersappertainingtotherulesofetiquette,forwhichyouhavebeensolongandsopre-eminentlydistinguished.Withperfectcertainty,therefore,ofbeingcomprehended,Ibegleave, inlieuofofferinganysentimentsofmyown,toreferyoutotheopinionsofSieurHedelin,assetforthintheninthparagraphofthechapterof"Injuriaeperapplicationem,perconstructionem,etperse,"inhis"DuelliLexscripta,etnon;aliterque."Thenicetyofyourdiscernmentinall themattershere treated,willbesufficient, Iamassured, toconvinceyou

that the mere circumstance of me referring you to this admirable passage,oughttosatisfyyourrequest,asamanofhonor,forexplanation.Withsentimentsofprofoundrespect,Yourmostobedientservant,VONJUNG.TheHerrJohannHermannHermann commenced the perusal of this epistle with a scowl, which,

however,wasconverted intoasmileof themost ludicrousself-complacencyas he came to the rigmarole about Injuriae per applicationem, perconstructionem, et per se.Having finished reading, he beggedme,with theblandestof all possible smiles, tobe seated,whilehemade reference to thetreatiseinquestion.Turningtothepassagespecified,hereaditwithgreatcareto himself, then closed the book, and desired me, in my character ofconfidentialacquaintance,toexpresstotheBaronvonJunghisexaltedsenseof his chivalrous behavior, and, in that of second, to assure him that theexplanation offered was of the fullest, the most honorable, and the mostunequivocallysatisfactorynature.Somewhatamazedatallthis,ImademyrêtreattotheBaron.Heseemedto

receiveHermann'samicableletterasamatterofcourse,andafterafewwordsofgeneralconversation,wenttoaninnerroomandbroughtouttheeverlastingtreatise"DuelliLexscripta,etnon;aliterque."Hehandedmethevolumeandaskedme to lookover someportionof it. Idid so,but to littlepurpose,notbeing able to gather the least particle of meaning. He then took the bookhimself,andreadmeachapteraloud.Tomysurprise,whathereadprovedtobe amost horribly absurd account of a duel between twobaboons.He nowexplained themystery; showing that thevolume, as it appearedprima facie,waswrittenupontheplanofthenonsenseversesofDuBartas;thatistosay,thelanguagewasingeniouslyframedsoastopresenttotheearalltheoutwardsignsof intelligibility,andevenofprofundity,while in factnotashadowofmeaningexisted.Thekeytothewholewasfoundinleavingouteverysecondandthirdwordalternately,whenthereappearedaseriesof ludicrousquizzesuponasinglecombataspractisedinmoderntimes.TheBaronafterwardsinformedmethathehadpurposelythrownthetreatise

inHermann'sway twoor threeweeksbefore theadventure,and thathewassatisfied,fromthegeneraltenorofhisconversation,thathehadstudieditwiththe deepest attention, and firmly believed it to be awork of unusualmerit.Upon this hint he proceeded. Hermann would have died a thousand deathsratherthanacknowledgehisinabilitytounderstandanythingandeverythingintheuniversethathadeverbeenwrittenabouttheduello.

LittletonBarry.

DIDDLINGCONSIDEREDASONEOFTHE

EXACTSCIENCES.

Hey,diddlediddle

Thecatandthefiddle

SINCE the world began there have been two Jeremys. The one wrote aJeremiad about usury, and was called Jeremy Bentham. He has beenmuchadmired byMr. JohnNeal, andwas a greatman in a smallway. The othergavenametothemostimportantoftheExactSciences,andwasagreatmaninagreatway—Imaysay,indeed,intheverygreatestofways.Diddling—or the abstract idea conveyed by the verb to diddle—is

sufficiently well understood. Yet the fact, the deed, the thing diddling, issomewhat difficult to define. We may get, however, at a tolerably distinctconceptionofthematterinhand,bydefining—notthething,diddling,initself—butman,asananimal thatdiddles.HadPlatobuthitupon this,hewouldhavebeensparedtheaffrontofthepickedchicken.VerypertinentlyitwasdemandedofPlato,whyapickedchicken,whichwas

clearly"abipedwithoutfeathers,"wasnot,accordingtohisowndefinition,aman?ButIamnottobebotheredbyanysimilarquery.Manisananimalthatdiddles,andthereisnoanimalthatdiddlesbutman.Itwilltakeanentirehen-coopofpickedchickenstogetoverthat.Whatconstitutes theessence, thenare, theprincipleofdiddling is, in fact,

peculiar to the class of creatures that wear coats and pantaloons. A crowthieves;afoxcheats;aweaseloutwits;amandiddles.Todiddleishisdestiny."Manwasmadetomourn,"saysthepoet.Butnotso:—hewasmadetodiddle.This is his aim—his object—his end. And for this reason when a man'sdiddledwesayhe's"done."Diddling, rightly considered, is a compound, ofwhich the ingredients are

minuteness, interest, perseverance, ingenuity, audacity, nonchalance,originality,impertinence,andgrin.Minuteness:—Yourdiddlerisminute.Hisoperationsareuponasmallscale.

Hisbusinessisretail,forcash,orapprovedpaperatsight.Shouldheeverbetempted intomagnificent speculation, he then, at once, loses his distinctivefeatures,andbecomeswhatweterm"financier."Thislatterwordconveysthediddlingideaineveryrespectexceptthatofmagnitude.Adiddlermaythusberegarded as a banker in petto—a "financial operation," as a diddle atBrobdignag.Theoneistotheother,asHomerto"Flaccus"—asaMastodontoamouse—asthetailofacomettothatofapig.Interest:—Yourdiddlerisguidedbyself-interest.Hescornstodiddleforthe

meresakeofthediddle.Hehasanobjectinview—hispocket—andyours.He

regardsalways themainchance.He looks toNumberOne.YouareNumberTwo,andmustlooktoyourself.Perseverance:—Your diddler perseveres. He is not readily discouraged.

Shouldeventhebanksbreak,hecaresnothingaboutit.Hesteadilypursueshisend,and'Utcanisacorionunquamabsterrebituruncto,'soheneverletsgoofhisgame.Ingenuity:—Your diddler is ingenious. He has constructiveness large. He

understands plot. He invents and circumvents. Were he not Alexander hewouldbeDiogenes.Werehenotadiddler,hewouldbeamakerofpatentrat-trapsorananglerfortrout.Audacity:—Your diddler is audacious.—He is a boldman. He carries the

warintoAfrica.Heconquersallbyassault.HewouldnotfearthedaggersofFrey Herren.With a little more prudence Dick Turpin would have made agooddiddler;withatriflelessblarney,DanielO'Connell;withapoundortwomorebrainsCharlestheTwelfth.Nonchalance:—Your diddler is nonchalant. He is not at all nervous. He

neverhadanynerves.Heisneverseducedintoaflurry.Heisneverputout—unlessputoutofdoors.Heiscool—coolasacucumber.Heiscalm—"calmasasmilefromLadyBury."Heiseasy—easyasanoldglove,orthedamselsofancientBaiae.Originality:—Yourdiddlerisoriginal—conscientiouslyso.Histhoughtsare

his own. He would scorn to employ those of another. A stale trick is hisaversion.Hewould return a purse, I am sure, upon discovering that he hadobtaineditbyanunoriginaldiddle.Impertinence.—Yourdiddler is impertinent.Heswaggers.Hesetshisarms

a-kimbo.Hethrustshishandsinhistrowsers'pockets.Hesneersinyourface.Hetreadsonyourcorns.Heeatsyourdinner,hedrinksyourwine,heborrowsyourmoney,hepullsyournose,hekicksyourpoodle,andhekissesyourwife.Grin:—Yourtruediddlerwindsupallwithagrin.Butthisnobodyseesbut

himself.Hegrinswhenhisdailywork isdone—whenhisallotted laborsareaccomplished—atnight inhisowncloset,andaltogetherforhisownprivateentertainment. He goes home. He locks his door. He divests himself of hisclothes.Heputsouthiscandle.Hegetsintobed.Heplaceshisheaduponthepillow. All this done, and your diddler grins. This is no hypothesis. It is amatterofcourse.Ireasonapriori,andadiddlewouldbenodiddlewithoutagrin.The origin of the diddle is referrable to the infancy of the Human Race.

Perhaps the first diddlerwasAdam.At all events,we can trace the scienceback to a very remote period of antiquity. The moderns, however, havebrought it toaperfectionneverdreamedofbyour thick-headedprogenitors.Withoutpausingtospeakof the"oldsaws," therefore,Ishallcontentmyself

withacompendiousaccountofsomeofthemore"moderninstances."Averygooddiddleisthis.Ahousekeeperinwantofasofa,forinstance,is

seentogoinandoutofseveralcabinetwarehouses.At lengthshearrivesatoneoffering an excellent variety. She is accosted, and invited to enter, by apoliteandvolubleindividualatthedoor.Shefindsasofawelladaptedtoherviews,anduponinquiringtheprice,issurprisedanddelightedtohearasumnamed at least twenty per cent. lower than her expectations. She hastens tomakethepurchase,getsabillandreceipt, leavesheraddress,witharequestthat the article be sent home as speedily as possible, and retires amid aprofusion of bows from the shopkeeper. The night arrives and no sofa. Aservant is sent to make inquiry about the delay. The whole transaction isdenied.No sofa has been sold—nomoney received—except by the diddler,whoplayedshop-keeperforthenonce.Our cabinetwarehouses are left entirelyunattended, and thus afford every

facility for a trick of this kind. Visiters enter, look at furniture, and departunheededandunseen.Shouldanyonewishtopurchase,ortoinquirethepriceofanarticle,abellisathand,andthisisconsideredamplysufficient.Again,quitearespectablediddleis this.Awell-dressedindividualentersa

shop,makesapurchasetothevalueofadollar;finds,muchtohisvexation,that he has left his pocket-book in another coat pocket; and so says to theshopkeeper—"Mydear sir, nevermind; justobligeme,willyou,by sending thebundle

home?Butstay!IreallybelievethatIhavenothinglessthanafivedollarbill,eventhere.However,youcansendfourdollarsinchangewiththebundle,youknow.""Very good, sir," replies the shop-keeper, who entertains, at once, a lofty

opinionofthehigh-mindednessofhiscustomer."Iknowfellows,"hesaystohimself,"whowouldjusthaveputthegoodsundertheirarm,andwalkedoffwithapromisetocallandpaythedollarastheycamebyintheafternoon."Aboyissentwiththeparcelandchange.Ontheroute,quiteaccidentally,he

ismetbythepurchaser,whoexclaims:"Ah!Thisismybundle,Isee—Ithoughtyouhadbeenhomewithit, long

ago.Well,goon!Mywife,Mrs.Trotter,willgiveyouthefivedollars—Ileftinstructionswithhertothateffect.Thechangeyoumightaswellgivetome—I shallwant some silver for thePostOffice.Very good!One, two, is this agoodquarter?—three,four—quiteright!SaytoMrs.Trotterthatyoumetme,andbesurenowanddonotloiterontheway."Theboydoesn'tloiteratall—butheisaverylongtimeingettingbackfrom

hiserrand—fornoladyoftheprecisenameofMrs.Trotteristobediscovered.Heconsoleshimself,however,thathehasnotbeensuchafoolastoleavethegoods without themoney, and re-entering his shop with a self-satisfied air,

feelssensiblyhurtandindignantwhenhismasteraskshimwhathasbecomeofthechange.Averysimplediddle,indeed,isthis.Thecaptainofaship,whichisaboutto

sail,ispresentedbyanofficiallookingpersonwithanunusuallymoderatebillof city charges.Glad to get off so easily, and confused by a hundreddutiespressing upon him all at once, he discharges the claim forthwith. In aboutfifteenminutes, another and less reasonable bill is handed him by onewhosoonmakes it evident that the first collectorwas a diddler, and the originalcollectionadiddle.And here, too, is a somewhat similar thing. A steamboat is casting loose

fromthewharf.Atraveller,portmanteauinhand,isdiscoveredrunningtowardthewharf,atfullspeed.Suddenly,hemakesadeadhalt,stoops,andpicksupsomethingfromthegroundinaveryagitatedmanner.Itisapocket-book,and—"Hasanygentleman lost apocketbook?"hecries.Noonecan say thathehas exactly lost a pocket-book; but a great excitement ensues, when thetreasure trove is found to be of value. The boat, however, must not bedetained."Timeandtidewaitfornoman,"saysthecaptain."ForGod'ssake,stayonlyafewminutes,"saysthefinderofthebook—"the

trueclaimantwillpresentlyappear.""Can'twait!"repliesthemaninauthority;"castoffthere,d'yehear?""WhatamItodo?"asksthefinder,ingreattribulation."Iamabouttoleave

the country for some years, and I cannot conscientiously retain this largeamount in my possession. I beg your pardon, sir," [here he addresses agentlemanonshore,]"butyouhavetheairofanhonestman.Willyouconferuponme the favorof takingchargeof thispocket-book—IknowIcan trustyou—andofadvertisingit?Thenotes,yousee,amounttoaveryconsiderablesum.Theownerwill,nodoubt,insistuponrewardingyouforyourtrouble—"Me!—no,you!—itwasyouwhofoundthebook.""Well, if youmust have it so—Iwill take a small reward—just to satisfy

yourscruples.Letmesee—whythesenotesareallhundreds—blessmysoul!ahundredistoomuchtotake—fiftywouldbequiteenough,Iamsure—"Castoffthere!"saysthecaptain."But then I have no change for a hundred, and upon thewhole, you had

better—"Castoffthere!"saysthecaptain."Nevermind!" cries thegentlemanon shore,whohasbeen examininghis

ownpocket-bookforthelastminuteorso—"nevermind!Icanfixit—hereisafiftyontheBankofNorthAmerica—throwthebook."And the over-conscientious finder takes the fifty with marked reluctance,

andthrowsthegentlemanthebook,asdesired,whilethesteamboatfumesandfizzesonherway.Inabouthalfanhourafterherdeparture,the"largeamount"isseentobea"counterfeitpresentment,"andthewholethingacapitaldiddle.Abolddiddleisthis.Acamp-meeting,orsomethingsimilar,istobeheldat

acertain spotwhich is accessibleonlybymeansof a freebridge.Adiddlerstations himself upon this bridge, respectfully informs all passers by of thenewcountylaw,whichestablishesatollofonecentforfootpassengers,twofor horses and donkeys, and so forth, and so forth. Some grumble but allsubmit, and the diddler goes home a wealthier man by some fifty or sixtydollars well earned. This taking a toll from a great crowd of people is anexcessivelytroublesomething.A neat diddle is this.A friend holds one of the diddler's promises to pay,

filledupandsignedindueform,upontheordinaryblanksprintedinredink.Thediddlerpurchasesoneor twodozenof theseblanks,andeverydaydipsoneoftheminhissoup,makeshisdogjumpforit,andfinallygivesittohimasabonnebouche.Thenotearrivingatmaturity,thediddler,withthediddler'sdog, calls upon the friend, and the promise to pay is made the topic ofdiscussion. The friend produces it from his escritoire, and is in the act ofreaching it to the diddler, when up jumps the diddler's dog and devours itforthwith. The diddler is not only surprised but vexed and incensed at theabsurd behavior of his dog, and expresses his entire readiness to cancel theobligation at any moment when the evidence of the obligation shall beforthcoming.A verymean diddle is this. A lady is insulted in the street by a diddler's

accomplice.Thediddlerhimselffliestoherassistance,and,givinghisfriendacomfortable thrashing, insists upon attending the lady to her own door. Hebows,withhishanduponhisheart,andmostrespectfullybidsheradieu.Sheentreatshim,asherdeliverer,towalkinandbeintroducedtoherbigbrotherandherpapa.Withasigh,hedeclinestodoso."Istherenoway,then,sir,"shemurmurs,"inwhichImaybepermittedtotestifymygratitude?""Why,yes,madam,thereis.Willyoubekindenoughtolendmeacoupleof

shillings?"In the first excitement of the moment the lady decides upon fainting

outright. Upon second thought, however, she opens her purse-strings anddeliversthespecie.Nowthis,Isay,isadiddleminute—foroneentiremoietyofthesumborrowedhastobepaidtothegentlemanwhohadthetroubleofperforming the insult, and who had then to stand still and be thrashed forperformingit.Ratherasmallbutstillascientificdiddleisthis.Thediddlerapproachesthe

barofatavern,anddemandsacoupleoftwistsoftobacco.Thesearehandedtohim,when,havingslightlyexaminedthem,hesays:

"Idon'tmuch like this tobacco.Here, take itback,andgivemeaglassofbrandyandwaterinitsplace."Thebrandyandwaterisfurnishedandimbibed,andthediddlermakeshiswaytothedoor.Butthevoiceofthetavern-keeperarrestshim."Ibelieve,sir,youhaveforgottentopayforyourbrandyandwater.""Payformybrandyandwater!—didn'tIgiveyouthetobaccoforthebrandy

andwater?Whatmorewouldyouhave?""But,sir,ifyouplease,Idon'trememberthatyoupaidmeforthetobacco.""Whatdoyoumeanby that,youscoundrel?—Didn't Igiveyoubackyour

tobacco?Isn'tthatyourtobaccolyingthere?DoyouexpectmetopayforwhatIdidnottake?""But,sir,"saysthepublican,nowratheratalosswhattosay,"butsir-""But me no buts, sir," interrupts the diddler, apparently in very high

dudgeon,andslammingthedoorafterhim,ashemakeshisescape.—"Butmenobuts,sir,andnoneofyourtricksupontravellers."Here again is a very clever diddle, ofwhich the simplicity is not its least

recommendation.Apurse,orpocket-book,beingreally lost, the loser insertsinoneofthedailypapersofalargecityafullydescriptiveadvertisement.Whereuponourdiddlercopiesthefactsofthisadvertisement,withachange

ofheading,ofgeneralphraseologyandaddress.Theoriginal,forinstance, islong,andverbose,isheaded"APocket-BookLost!"andrequiresthetreasure,when found, to be left at No. 1 Tom Street. The copy is brief, and beingheadedwith"Lost"only, indicatesNo.2Dick,orNo.3HarryStreet,as thelocality atwhich theownermaybe seen.Moreover, it is inserted in at leastfiveorsixofthedailypapersoftheday,whileinpointoftime,itmakesitsappearanceonlyafewhoursaftertheoriginal.Shoulditbereadbytheloserof the purse, he would hardly suspect it to have any reference to his ownmisfortune.But,ofcourse, thechancesarefiveorsix toone, that thefinderwillrepairtotheaddressgivenbythediddler,ratherthantothatpointedoutby the rightful proprietor. The former pays the reward, pockets the treasureanddecamps.Quiteananalogousdiddleisthis.Aladyoftonhasdropped,somewherein

thestreet,adiamondringofveryunusualvalue.For its recovery, sheofferssomefortyorfiftydollarsreward—giving,inheradvertisement,averyminutedescriptionofthegem,andofitssettings,anddeclaringthat,onitsrestorationatNo.soandso,insuchandsuchAvenue,therewardwouldbepaidinstanter,withoutasinglequestionbeingasked.Duringthelady'sabsencefromhome,adayortwoafterwards,aringisheardatthedoorofNo.soandso,insuchandsuch Avenue; a servant appears; the lady of the house is asked for and isdeclaredtobeout,atwhichastoundinginformation,thevisitorexpressesthemost poignant regret. His business is of importance and concerns the lady

herself.Infact,hehadthegoodfortunetofindherdiamondring.Butperhapsitwouldbeaswellthatheshouldcallagain."Bynomeans!"saystheservant;and"Bynomeans!"saysthelady'ssisterandthelady'ssister-in-law,whoaresummoned forthwith.The ring is clamorously identified, the reward is paid,andthefindernearlythrustoutofdoors.Theladyreturnsandexpressessomelittledissatisfactionwithher sister and sister-in-law,because theyhappen tohave paid forty or fifty dollars for a fac-simile of her diamond ring—a fac-similemadeoutofrealpinch-beckandunquestionablepaste.But as there is really no end to diddling, so there would be none to this

essay,were Ieven tohintathalf thevariations,or inflections,ofwhich thisscience issusceptible. Imustbring thispaper,perforce, toaconclusion,andthisIcannotdobetterthanbyasummarynoticeofaverydecent,butratherelaboratediddle,ofwhichourowncitywasmade the theatre,notvery longago, andwhichwas subsequently repeatedwith success, in other stillmoreverdantlocalitiesoftheUnion.Amiddle-agedgentlemanarrivesintownfrompartsunknown.Heisremarkablyprecise,cautious,staid,anddeliberateinhisdemeanor.Hisdressisscrupulouslyneat,butplain,unostentatious.Hewearsawhitecravat,anamplewaistcoat,madewithaneye tocomfortalone; thick-soledcosy-lookingshoes,andpantaloonswithoutstraps.Hehasthewholeair,in fact, of your well-to-do, sober-sided, exact, and respectable "man ofbusiness," Par excellence—one of the stern and outwardly hard, internallysoft, sort of people thatwe see in the crack high comedies—fellowswhosewords are so many bonds, and who are noted for giving away guineas, incharity,withtheonehand,while, inthewayofmerebargain, theyexact theuttermostfractionofafarthingwiththeother.Hemakesmuch ado before he can get suited with a boarding house. He

dislikeschildren.Hehasbeenaccustomedtoquiet.Hishabitsaremethodical—andthenhewouldprefergettingintoaprivateandrespectablesmallfamily,piously inclined. Terms, however, are no object—only he must insist uponsettlinghisbillonthefirstofeverymonth,(itisnowthesecond)andbegshislandlady,whenhefinallyobtainsonetohismind,notonanyaccounttoforgethisinstructionsuponthispoint—buttosendinabill,andreceipt,preciselyatteno'clock,onthefirstdayofeverymonth,andundernocircumstancestoputitofftothesecond.Thesearrangementsmade,ourmanofbusinessrentsanofficeinareputable

rather than a fashionable quarter of the town. There is nothing he moredespisesthanpretense."Wherethereismuchshow,"hesays,"thereisseldomanythingverysolidbehind"—anobservationwhichsoprofoundlyimpresseshislandlady'sfancy,thatshemakesapencilmemorandumofitforthwith, inhergreatfamilyBible,onthebroadmarginoftheProverbsofSolomon.Thenextstepistoadvertise,aftersomesuchfashionasthis,intheprincipal

business six-pennies of the city—the pennies are eschewed as not

"respectable"—andasdemandingpaymentforalladvertisementsinadvance.Ourmanofbusinessholdsitasapointofhisfaiththatworkshouldneverbepaidforuntildone."WANTED—Theadvertisers,beingabouttocommenceextensivebusiness

operationsinthiscity,willrequiretheservicesofthreeorfourintelligentandcompetent clerks, to whom a liberal salary will be paid. The very bestrecommendations,notsomuchforcapacity,asforintegrity,willbeexpected.Indeed,as theduties tobeperformedinvolvehighresponsibilities,and largeamountsofmoneymustnecessarilypassthroughthehandsofthoseengaged,it is deemed advisable to demand a deposit of fifty dollars from each clerkemployed.Nopersonneedapply,therefore,whoisnotpreparedtoleavethissum in the possession of the advertisers, and who cannot furnish the mostsatisfactorytestimonialsofmorality.Younggentlemenpiouslyinclinedwillbepreferred.ApplicationshouldbemadebetweenthehoursoftenandelevenA.M.,andfourandfiveP.M.,ofMessrs."Bogs,HogsLogs,Frogs&Co.,"No.110DogStreet"By the thirty-first dayof themonth, this advertisement has brought to the

office of Messrs. Bogs, Hogs, Logs, Frogs, and Company, some fifteen ortwenty young gentlemen piously inclined.But ourman of business is in nohurrytoconcludeacontractwithany—nomanofbusinessiseverprecipitate—and it isnotuntil themost rigidcatechism in respect to thepietyof eachyoung gentleman's inclination, that his services are engaged and his fiftydollars receipted for, just by way of proper precaution, on the part of therespectablefirmofBogs,Hogs,Logs,Frogs,andCompany.Onthemorningof the first day of the next month, the landlady does not present her bill,according topromise—apieceofneglect forwhich thecomfortableheadofthehouse ending inogswouldnodoubt have chidedher severely, couldhehavebeenprevailedupontoremainintownadayortwoforthatpurpose.Asitis,theconstableshavehadasadtimeofit,runninghitherandthither,

andalltheycandoistodeclarethemanofbusinessmostemphatically,a"henkneehigh"—bywhichsomepersonsimaginethemtoimplythat,infact,heisn.e.i.—bywhichagaintheveryclassicalphrasenonestinventus,issupposedto be understood. In the meantime the young gentlemen, one and all, aresomewhat less piously inclined than before, while the landlady purchases ashilling'sworthoftheIndianrubber,andverycarefullyobliteratesthepencilmemorandumthatsomefoolhasmadeinhergreatfamilyBible,onthebroadmarginoftheProverbsofSolomon.

THEANGELOFTHE

ODDANEXTRAVAGANZA.

ITwasachillyNovemberafternoon.Ihadjustconsummatedanunusuallyhearty dinner, of which the dyspeptic truffe formed not the least importantitem,andwassittingaloneinthedining-room,withmyfeetuponthefender,and atmy elbow a small tablewhich I had rolled up to the fire, and uponwhichwere some apologies for dessert, with somemiscellaneous bottles ofwine, spirit and liqueur. In the morning I had been reading Glover's"Leonidas," Wilkie's "Epigoniad," Lamartine's "Pilgrimage," Barlow's"Columbiad," Tuckermann's "Sicily," and Griswold's "Curiosities"; I amwilling to confess, therefore, that I now felt a little stupid. Imade effort toarousemyselfbyaidoffrequentLafitte,and,allfailing,Ibetookmyselftoastraynewspaperindespair.Havingcarefullyperusedthecolumnof"housestolet,"andthecolumnof"dogslost,"andthenthetwocolumnsof"wivesandapprenticesrunaway,"Iattackedwithgreatresolutiontheeditorialmatter,and,readingitfrombeginningtoendwithoutunderstandingasyllable,conceivedthe possibility of its being Chinese, and so re-read it from the end to thebeginning,butwithnomoresatisfactoryresult.Iwasaboutthrowingaway,indisgust,

"Thisfoliooffourpages,happywork

Whichnotevencriticscriticise,"

whenIfeltmyattentionsomewhatarousedbytheparagraphwhichfollows:"Theavenuestodeatharenumerousandstrange.ALondonpapermentions

thedeceaseofapersonfromasingularcause.Hewasplayingat'puffthedart,'whichisplayedwithalongneedleinsertedinsomeworsted,andblownatatarget througha tin tube.Heplacedtheneedleat thewrongendof the tube,anddrawinghisbreathstronglytopuffthedartforwardwithforce,drewtheneedleintohisthroat.Itenteredthelungs,andinafewdayskilledhim."UponseeingthisIfellintoagreatrage,withoutexactlyknowingwhy."This

thing," I exclaimed, "is a contemptible falsehood—apoorhoax—the leesoftheinventionofsomepitiablepenny-a-liner—ofsomewretchedconcoctorofaccidents inCocaigne.These fellows,knowing theextravagantgullibilityoftheage,settheirwitstoworkintheimaginationofimprobablepossibilities—-ofoddaccidents,astheytermthem;buttoareflectingintellect(likemine,"Iadded, inparenthesis,puttingmyforefingerunconsciously to thesideofmynose,) "to a contemplative understanding such as Imyself possess, it seemsevidentatoncethatthemarvelousincreaseoflateinthese'oddaccidents'isbyfar the oddest accident of all. Formy own part, I intend to believe nothinghenceforwardthathasanythingofthe'singular'aboutit.""Mein Gott, den, vat a vool you bees for dat!" replied one of the most

remarkablevoicesIeverheard.AtfirstItookitforarumblinginmyears—such as a man sometimes experiences when getting very drunk—but, uponsecondthought,Iconsideredthesoundasmorenearlyresemblingthatwhichproceeds from an empty barrel beaten with a big stick; and, in fact, this Ishould have concluded it to be, but for the articulation of the syllables andwords.Iambynomeansnaturallynervous,andtheveryfewglassesofLafittewhichIhadsippedserved toemboldenmeno little,so that I feltnothingoftrepidation, but merely uplifted my eyes with a leisurely movement, andlooked carefully around the room for the intruder. I could not, however,perceiveanyoneatall."Humph!" resumed the voice, as I continuedmy survey, "youmus pe so

dronkasdepig,den,fornotzeemeasIzithereatyourzide."HereuponIbethoughtmeoflookingimmediatelybeforemynose,andthere,

sureenough,confrontingmeatthetablesatapersonagenondescript,althoughnotaltogetherindescribable.Hisbodywasawine-pipe,orarum-puncheon,orsomething of that character, and had a truly Falstaffian air. In its netherextremitywereinsertedtwokegs,whichseemedtoanswerallthepurposesoflegs. For arms there dangled from the upper portion of the carcass twotolerably longbottles,with thenecksoutward forhands.All thehead that Isaw the monster possessed of was one of those Hessian canteens whichresemblealargesnuff-boxwithaholeinthemiddleof thelid.Thiscanteen(withafunnelonitstop,likeacavaliercapslouchedovertheeyes)wassetonedgeuponthepuncheon,withtheholetowardmyself;andthroughthishole,which seemed puckered up like the mouth of a very precise old maid, thecreature was emitting certain rumbling and grumbling noises which heevidentlyintendedforintelligibletalk."Izay,"saidhe,"youmospedronkasdepig,vorzitdareandnotzeemezit

ere;andIzay,doo,youmospepiggervoolasdegoose,vortodispeliefvatizprintindeprint.'Tizdetroof—-datitiz—eberryvordobit.""Who are you, pray?" said I, with much dignity, although somewhat

puzzled;"howdidyougethere?andwhatisityouaretalkingabout?""AzvorowIcom'dere,"repliedthefigure,"dat iznoneofyourpizzness;

andasvorvatIbetalkingapout,IbetalkapoutvatItinkproper;andasvorwhoIbe,vydatisdeverytingIcom'dherefortoletyouzeeforyourzelf.""Youareadrunkenvagabond,"saidI,"andIshallringthebellandordermy

footmantokickyouintothestreet.""He!he!he!"saidthefellow,"hu!hu!hu!datyoucan'tdo.""Can'tdo!"saidI,"whatdoyoumean?—Ican'tdowhat?""Ringdepell;"hereplied,attemptingagrinwithhislittlevillanousmouth.UponthisImadeanefforttogetup,inordertoputmythreatintoexecution;

buttheruffianjustreachedacrossthetableverydeliberately,andhittingmea

tapontheforeheadwiththeneckofoneofthelongbottles,knockedmebackintothearm-chairfromwhichIhadhalfarisen.Iwasutterlyastounded;and,foramoment,wasquiteatalosswhattodo.Inthemeantime,hecontinuedhistalk."Youzee,"saidhe,"itiztebessvorzitstill;andnowyoushallknowwhoI

pe.Lookatme!zee!IamteAngelovteOdd.""And odd enough, too," I ventured to reply; "but I was always under the

impressionthatanangelhadwings.""Tewing!"hecried,highlyincensed,"vatIpedomittewing?MeinGott!

doyoutakemevorashicken?""No—ohno!"Ireplied,muchalarmed,"youarenochicken—certainlynot.""Well,den,zitstillandpehabeyourself,orI'llrapyouagainmidmevist.It

izteshickenabtewing,undteowlabtewing,undteimpabtewing,undtehead-teuffelabtewing.Teangelabnottewing,andIamteAngelovteOdd.""Andyourbusinesswithmeatpresentis—is"—"Mypizzness!"ejaculatedthething,"vyvatalowbredbuppyyoumospe

vortoaskagentlemanundanangelapouthispizziness!"This languagewas rathermore than I could bear, even froman angel; so,

pluckingupcourage,Iseizedasalt-cellarwhichlaywithinreach,andhurleditat the head of the intruder. Either he dodged, however, or my aim wasinaccurate; for all I accomplished was the demolition of the crystal whichprotected the dial of the clock upon themantel-piece.As for theAngel, heevincedhis senseofmyassaultbygivingme twoor threehardconsecutiveraps upon the forehead as before. These reducedme at once to submission,andIamalmostashamedtoconfessthateitherthroughpainorvexation,therecameafewtearsintomyeyes."MeinGott!" said theAngel of theOdd, apparentlymuch softened atmy

distress; "meinGott, teman is eder ferrydronkor ferry zorry.Youmosnottrinkitsostrong—youmosputtewaterintewine.Here,trinkdis,likeagootveller,unddon'tgrynow—don't!"HereupontheAngeloftheOddreplenishedmygoblet(whichwasabouta

thirdfullofPort)withacolorless fluid thathepouredfromoneofhishandbottles. I observed that these bottles had labels about their necks, and thattheselabelswereinscribed"Kirschenwasser."The considerate kindness of the Angelmollifiedme in no little measure;

and, aidedby thewaterwithwhichhedilutedmyPortmore thanonce, I atlengthregainedsufficienttempertolistentohisveryextraordinarydiscourse.Icannotpretendtorecountallthathetoldme,butIgleanedfromwhathesaidthat hewas the geniuswho presided over the contretemps ofmankind, andwhosebusinessitwastobringabouttheoddaccidentswhicharecontinuallyastonishingtheskeptic.Onceortwice,uponmyventuringtoexpressmytotal

incredulityinrespecttohispretensions,hegrewveryangryindeed,sothatatlengthIconsidereditthewiserpolicytosaynothingatall,andlethimhavehisownway.He talkedon, therefore, atgreat length,while Imerely leanedbackinmychairwithmyeyesshut,andamusedmyselfwithmunchingraisinsand filliping the stems about the room.But, by-and-by, theAngel suddenlyconstruedthisbehaviorofmineintocontempt.Hearoseinaterriblepassion,slouchedhisfunneldownoverhiseyes,sworeavastoath,utteredathreatofsomecharacterwhichIdidnotpreciselycomprehend,andfinallymademealowbowanddeparted,wishingme,inthelanguageofthearchbishopinGil-Blas,"beaucoupdebonheuretunpeuplusdebonsens."Hisdepartureaffordedmerelief.TheveryfewglassesofLafittethatIhad

sippedhadtheeffectofrenderingmedrowsy,andIfeltinclinedtotakeanapofsomefifteenortwentyminutes,asismycustomafterdinner.AtsixIhadanappointmentofconsequence,whichitwasquiteindispensablethatIshouldkeep. The policy of insurance for my dwelling house had expired the daybefore; and, some dispute having arisen, itwas agreed that, at six, I shouldmeettheboardofdirectorsofthecompanyandsettlethetermsofarenewal.Glancing upward at the clock on themantel-piece, (for I felt too drowsy totake out my watch), I had the pleasure to find that I had still twenty-fiveminutes to spare. Itwas half past five; I could easilywalk to the insuranceofficeinfiveminutes;andmyusualsiestashadneverbeenknowntoexceedfiveandtwenty.Ifeltsufficientlysafe,therefore,andcomposedmyselftomyslumbersforthwith.Havingcompletedthemtomysatisfaction,Iagainlookedtowardthetime-

pieceandwashalfinclinedtobelieveinthepossibilityofoddaccidentswhenI found that, instead of my ordinary fifteen or twenty minutes, I had beendozingonlythree;foritstillwantedsevenandtwentyoftheappointedhour.Ibetookmyselfagaintomynap,andatlengthasecondtimeawoke,when,tomyutteramazement,itstillwantedtwenty-sevenminutesofsix.Ijumpedupto examine the clock, and found that it had ceased running. My watchinformed me that it was half past seven; and, of course, having slept twohours,Iwastoolateformyappointment."Itwillmakenodifference,"Isaid:"Icancallat theoffice in themorningandapologize; in themeantimewhatcanbethematterwiththeclock?"UponexaminingitIdiscoveredthatoneoftheraisinstemswhichIhadbeenfillipingabouttheroomduringthediscourseoftheAngeloftheOdd,hadflownthroughthefracturedcrystal,andlodging,singularlyenough, in thekey-hole,withanendprojectingoutward,had thusarrestedtherevolutionoftheminutehand."Ah!"saidI,"Iseehowitis.Thisthingspeaksforitself.Anaturalaccident,

suchaswillhappennowandthen!"Igave thematterno furtherconsideration,andatmyusualhour retired to

bed.Here,havingplacedacandleuponareadingstandat thebedhead,and

havingmade an attempt to peruse some pages of the "Omnipresence of theDeity,"Iunfortunatelyfellasleepinlessthantwentyseconds,leavingthelightburningasitwas.Mydreamswere terrificallydisturbedbyvisionsof theAngelof theOdd.

Methoughthestoodatthefootofthecouch,drewasidethecurtains,and,inthehollow,detestabletonesofarumpuncheon,menacedmewiththebitterestvengeanceforthecontemptwithwhichIhadtreatedhim.Heconcludedalongharangueby takingoffhis funnel-cap, inserting the tube intomygullet, andthus deluging me with an ocean of Kirschenwässer, which he poured, in acontinuousflood,fromoneofthelongneckedbottlesthatstoodhiminsteadofan arm.My agony was at length insufferable, and I awoke just in time toperceivethatarathadranoffwiththelightedcandlefromthestand,butnotinseasontopreventhismakinghisescapewithitthroughthehole.Verysoon,astrong suffocating odor assailedmy nostrils; the house, I clearly perceived,wasonfire. Ina fewminutes theblazebroke forthwithviolence,and inanincrediblybriefperiod theentirebuildingwaswrappedinflames.Allegressfrommychamber,exceptthroughawindow,wascutoff.Thecrowd,however,quicklyprocuredandraisedalongladder.BymeansofthisIwasdescendingrapidly,andinapparentsafety,whenahugehog,aboutwhoserotundstomach,and indeed about whose whole air and physiognomy, there was somethingwhich remindedmeof theAngel of theOdd,—when this hog, I say,whichhithertohadbeenquietlyslumberinginthemud,tookitsuddenlyintohisheadthat his left shoulder needed scratching, and could find nomore convenientrubbing-post than thataffordedby the footof the ladder. Inan instant Iwasprecipitatedandhadthemisfortunetofracturemyarm.Thisaccident,withthelossofmyinsurance,andwiththemoreseriousloss

ofmyhair,thewholeofwhichhadbeensingedoffbythefire,predisposedmeto serious impressions, so that, finally, I made upmymind to take a wife.Therewasarichwidowdisconsolateforthelossofherseventhhusband,andtoherwoundedspiritIofferedthebalmofmyvows.Sheyieldedareluctantconsent to my prayers. I knelt at her feet in gratitude and adoration. Sheblushedandbowedherluxurianttressesintoclosecontactwiththosesuppliedme,temporarily,byGrandjean.Iknownothowtheentanglementtookplace,butso itwas. Iarosewithashiningpate,wigless; she indisdainandwrath,halfburied inalienhair.Thusendedmyhopesof thewidowbyanaccidentwhich could not have been anticipated, to be sure, but which the naturalsequenceofeventshadbroughtabout.Without despairing, however, I undertook the siege of a less implacable

heart. The fateswere again propitious for a brief period; but again a trivialincident interfered. Meeting my betrothed in an avenue thronged withthe élite of the city, I was hastening to greet her with one of my bestconsideredbows,whenasmallparticleofsomeforeignmatter,lodginginthe

corner ofmy eye, renderedme, for themoment, completely blind.Before Icould recover my sight, the lady of my love had disappeared—irreparablyaffrontedatwhatshechosetoconsidermypremeditatedrudenessinpassingherbyungreeted.WhileIstoodbewilderedatthesuddennessofthisaccident,(which might have happened, nevertheless, to any one under the sun), andwhileIstillcontinuedincapableofsight,IwasaccostedbytheAngeloftheOdd,whoprofferedmehisaidwithacivilitywhichIhadnoreasontoexpect.Heexaminedmydisorderedeyewithmuchgentlenessandskill,informedmethatIhadadropinit,and(whatevera"drop"was)tookitout,andaffordedmerelief.I now considered it high time to die, (since fortune had so determined to

persecute me,) and accordingly made my way to the nearest river. Here,divestingmyselfofmyclothes,(forthereisnoreasonwhywecannotdieaswewereborn), I threwmyselfheadlonginto thecurrent; thesolewitnessofmyfatebeingasolitarycrowthathadbeenseducedintotheeatingofbrandy-saturatedcorn,andsohadstaggeredawayfromhisfellows.NosoonerhadIenteredthewaterthanthisbirdtookitintoitsheadtoflyawaywiththemostindispensableportionofmyapparel.Postponing,therefore,forthepresent,mysuicidal design, I just slippedmy nether extremities into the sleeves ofmycoat,andbetookmyselftoapursuitofthefelonwithallthenimblenesswhichthe case required and its circumstances would admit. But my evil destinyattendedmestill.AsIranatfullspeed,withmynoseupintheatmosphere,and intentonlyupon thepurloinerofmyproperty, Isuddenlyperceived thatmy feet rested no longer upon terra-firma; the fact is, I had thrownmyselfoveraprecipice,andshouldinevitablyhavebeendashedtopiecesbutformygoodfortuneingraspingtheendofalongguide-rope,whichdependedfromapassingballoon.As soon as I sufficiently recovered my senses to comprehend the terrific

predicament inwhich I stood or rather hung, I exerted all the power ofmylungstomakethatpredicamentknowntotheæronautoverhead.ButforalongtimeIexertedmyself invain.Either the foolcouldnot,or thevillainwouldnot perceive me. Meantime the machine rapidly soared, while my strengthevenmorerapidlyfailed.Iwassoonuponthepointofresigningmyselftomyfate,anddroppingquietlyintothesea,whenmyspiritsweresuddenlyrevivedbyhearingahollowvoicefromabove,whichseemedtobelazilyhumminganoperaair.Lookingup,IperceivedtheAngeloftheOdd.Hewasleaningwithhisarmsfolded,overtherimofthecar;andwithapipeinhismouth,atwhichhepuffed leisurely, seemed tobeuponexcellent termswithhimself and theuniverse.Iwastoomuchexhaustedtospeak,soImerelyregardedhimwithanimploringair.Forseveralminutes,althoughhelookedmefullintheface,hesaidnothing.

Atlengthremovingcarefullyhismeerschaumfromtherighttotheleftcorner

ofhismouth,hecondescendedtospeak."Whopeyou,"heasked,"undwhatderteuffelyoupedodare?"To this piece of impudence, cruelty and affectation, I could reply only by

ejaculatingthemonosyllable"Help!""Elp!" echoed the ruffian—"not I.Dare iz te pottle—elp yourself, und pe

tam'd!"With these words he let fall a heavy bottle of Kirschenwasser which,

droppingpreciselyuponthecrownofmyhead,causedmetoimaginethatmybrains were entirely knocked out. Impressed with this idea, I was about torelinquish my hold and give up the ghost with a good grace, when I wasarrestedbythecryoftheAngel,whobademeholdon."Old on!" he said; "don't pe in te urry—don't.Will you pe take de odder

pottle,oraveyoupegotzoberyetandcometoyourzenzes?"I made haste, hereupon, to nod my head twice—once in the negative,

meaningtherebythatIwouldprefernottakingtheotherbottleatpresent—andonce in the affirmative, intending thus to imply that I was soberandhadpositivelycometomysenses.BythesemeansIsomewhatsoftenedtheAngel."Undyoupelief,ten,"heinquired,"attelast?Youpelief,ten,intepossibilty

ofteodd?"Iagainnoddedmyheadinassent."Undyouavepeliefinme,teAngelofteOdd?"Inoddedagain."Undyouacknowledgetatyoupeteblinddronkandtevool?"Inoddedoncemore."Put your right hand intoyour left handpreechespocket, ten, in tokenov

yourvullzubmizzionuntoteAngelovteOdd."Thisthing,forveryobviousreasons,Ifounditquiteimpossibletodo.Inthe

first place, my left arm had been broken in my fall from the ladder, and,therefore, had I let go my hold with the right hand, I must have let goaltogether. In thesecondplace, Icouldhavenobreechesuntil Icameacrossthecrow.Iwasthereforeobliged,muchtomyregret,toshakemyheadinthenegative—intending thus to give the Angel to understand that I found itinconvenient, just at that moment, to comply with his very reasonabledemand!Nosooner,however,hadIceasedshakingmyheadthan—"Gotoderteuffel,ten!"roaredtheAngeloftheOdd.Inpronouncingthesewords,hedrewasharpknifeacrosstheguide-ropeby

whichIwassuspended,andaswethenhappenedtobepreciselyovermyownhouse,(which,duringmyperegrinations,hadbeenhandsomelyrebuilt,)itsooccurredthatI tumbledheadlongdowntheamplechimneyandalituponthe

dining-roomhearth.Uponcomingtomysenses,(forthefallhadverythoroughlystunnedme,)I

found it about four o'clock in the morning. I lay outstretched where I hadfallen from the balloon.My head grovelled in the ashes of an extinguishedfire,whilemyfeetreposeduponthewreckofasmalltable,overthrown,andamidthefragmentsofamiscellaneousdessert,intermingledwithanewspaper,somebrokenglass and shattered bottles, and an empty jug of theSchiedamKirschenwasser.ThusrevengedhimselftheAngeloftheOdd.[MabbottstatesthatGriswold"obviouslyhadarevisedform"foruseinthe

1856volumeofPoe'sworks.Mabbottdoesnotsubstantiatethisclaim,butitissurelynotunreasonable.Aneditor,andeven typographicalerrors,mayhaveproducednearlyallof theveryminorchangesmadeinthisversion.(Indeed,twoverynecessarywordswereclearlydroppedbyaccident.)Aneditormighthave corrected "Wickliffe's 'Epigoniad'" to "Wilkie's 'Epigoniad'," but isunlikelytohaveadded"Tuckerman's 'Sicily'"tothelistofbooksreadbythenarrator.Griswoldwasnotaboveforgery(inPoe's letters)whenitsuitedhispurpose,butwouldhavetoolittletogainbysuchaneffortinthisinstance.]

MELLONTATAUTATOTHEEDITORSOFTHELADY'S

BOOK:

Ihavethehonorofsendingyou,foryourmagazine,anarticlewhichIhopeyouwillbeabletocomprehendrathermoredistinctlythanIdomyself.Itisatranslation, by my friend, Martin Van Buren Mavis, (sometimes called the"PoughkeepsieSeer")ofanodd-lookingMS.whichIfound,aboutayearago,tightly corked up in a jug floating in the Mare Tenebrarum—a sea welldescribed by theNubian geographer, but seldomvisited now-a-days, exceptforthetranscendentalistsanddiversforcrotchets.Trulyyours,EDGARA.POE

{thisparagraphnotinthevolume—ED}

ONBOARDBALLOON"SKYLARK"April,1,2848NOW,mydearfriend—now,foryoursins,youaretosuffertheinflictionof

alonggossipingletter.ItellyoudistinctlythatIamgoingtopunishyouforallyour impertinences by being as tedious, as discursive, as incoherent and asunsatisfactory as possible.Besides, here I am, coopedup in a dirty balloon,with some one or two hundred of the canaille, all bound on a pleasure

excursion, (whata funny ideasomepeoplehaveofpleasure!)andIhavenoprospect of touching terra firma for a month at least. Nobody to talk to.Nothing to do.When one has nothing to do, then is the time to correspondwithonesfriends.Youperceive,then,whyitisthatIwriteyouthisletter—itisonaccountofmyennuiandyoursins.Getreadyyourspectaclesandmakeupyourmindtobeannoyed.Imeanto

writeatyoueverydayduringthisodiousvoyage.Heigho! when will any Invention visit the human pericranium? Are we

forever to be doomed to the thousand inconveniences of the balloon?Willnobody contrive a more expeditious mode of progress? The jog-trotmovement, tomythinking, is little less thanpositive torture.Uponmywordwehavenotmademore thanahundredmiles thehour since leavinghome!The very birds beat us—at least some of them. I assure you that I do notexaggerateatall.Ourmotion,nodoubt,seemsslowerthanitactuallyis—thison account of our having no objects about us by which to estimate ourvelocity,andonaccountofourgoingwiththewind.Tobesure,wheneverwemeet a balloonwe have a chance of perceiving our rate, and then, I admit,things do not appear so very bad. Accustomed as I am to this mode oftravelling,Icannotgetoverakindofgiddinesswheneveraballoonpassesusinacurrentdirectlyoverhead.Italwaysseemstomelikeanimmensebirdofpreyabouttopounceuponusandcarryusoffinitsclaws.Onewentoverusthismorningaboutsunrise,andsonearlyoverheadthatitsdrag-ropeactuallybrushed the network suspending our car, and caused us very seriousapprehension. Our captain said that if thematerial of the bag had been thetrumperyvarnished"silk"offivehundredorathousandyearsago,weshouldinevitablyhavebeendamaged.Thissilk,asheexplainedittome,wasafabriccomposedoftheentrailsofaspeciesofearth-worm.Thewormwascarefullyfed on mulberries—kind of fruit resembling a water-melon—and, whensufficiently fat, was crushed in a mill. The paste thus arising was calledpapyrus in itsprimary state, andwent throughavarietyofprocessesuntil itfinally became "silk." Singular to relate, it was once much admired as anarticleoffemaledress!Balloonswerealsoverygenerallyconstructedfromit.A better kind of material, it appears, was subsequently found in the downsurroundingtheseed-vesselsofaplantvulgarlycalledeuphorbium,andatthattimebotanicallytermedmilk-weed.Thislatterkindofsilkwasdesignatedassilk-buckingham, on account of its superior durability, and was usuallyprepared for use by being varnishedwith a solution of gum caoutchouc—asubstancewhichinsomerespectsmusthaveresembledtheguttaperchanowin common use. This caoutchouc was occasionally called Indian rubber orrubberof twist,andwasnodoubtoneof thenumerousfungi.Never tellmeagainthatIamnotatheartanantiquarian.Talkingofdrag-ropes—ourown,itseems,hasthismomentknockedaman

overboard from one of the small magnetic propellers that swarm in oceanbelow us—a boat of about six thousand tons, and, from all accounts,shamefully crowded. These diminutive barques should be prohibited fromcarryingmorethanadefinitenumberofpassengers.Theman,ofcourse,wasnotpermittedtogetonboardagain,andwassoonoutofsight,heandhislife-preserver.Irejoice,mydearfriend,thatweliveinanagesoenlightenedthatnosuchathingasanindividualissupposedtoexist.Itisthemassforwhichthe trueHumanity cares.By-the-by, talking ofHumanity, do you know thatour immortalWiggins isnotsooriginal inhisviewsof theSocialConditionandsoforth,ashiscontemporariesareinclinedtosuppose?Punditassuresmethat thesameideaswereputnearlyinthesameway,abouta thousandyearsago,byanIrishphilosophercalledFurrier,onaccountofhiskeepingaretailshopforcatpeltriesandotherfurs.Punditknows,youknow;therecanbenomistake about it. How very wonderfully do we see verified every day, theprofoundobservationoftheHindooAriesTottle(asquotedbyPundit)—"Thusmustwesay that,notonceor twice,ora fewtimes,butwithalmost infiniterepetitions,thesameopinionscomeroundinacircleamongmen."April2.—Spoketo-daythemagneticcutterinchargeofthemiddlesection

offloatingtelegraphwires.IlearnthatwhenthisspeciesoftelegraphwasfirstputintooperationbyHorse,itwasconsideredquiteimpossibletoconveythewiresoversea,butnowweareata loss tocomprehendwhere thedifficultylay! So wags the world. Tempora mutantur—excuse me for quoting theEtruscan.What would we do without the Atalantic telegraph? (Pundit saysAtlanticwastheancientadjective.)Welaytoafewminutestoaskthecuttersome questions, and learned, among other glorious news, that civil war israging inAfrica,while theplague isdoing itsgoodworkbeautifullyboth inYurope and Ayesher. Is it not truly remarkable that, before the magnificentlightsheduponphilosophybyHumanity,theworldwasaccustomedtoregardWar and Pestilence as calamities? Do you know that prayers were actuallyofferedup in theancient temples to theend that theseevils (!)mightnotbevisited upon mankind? Is it not really difficult to comprehend upon whatprinciple of interest our forefathers acted? Were they so blind as not toperceive that the destruction of a myriad of individuals is only so muchpositiveadvantagetothemass!April 3.—It is really a very fine amusement to ascend the rope-ladder

leadingto thesummitof theballoon-bag,andthencesurveythesurroundingworld.Fromthecarbelowyouknowtheprospectisnotsocomprehensive—you can see little vertically. But seated here (where I write this) in theluxuriously-cushionedopenpiazzaofthesummit,onecanseeeverythingthatis going on in all directions. Just now there is quite a crowd of balloons insight,and theypresentaveryanimatedappearance,while theair is resonantwith thehumofsomanymillionsofhumanvoices. Ihaveheard itasserted

thatwhenYellowor(Punditwillhaveit)Violet,whoissupposedtohavebeenthefirstaeronaut,maintainedthepracticabilityoftraversingtheatmosphereinalldirections,bymerelyascendingordescendinguntilafavorablecurrentwasattained, he was scarcely hearkened to at all by his contemporaries, wholooked upon him as merely an ingenious sort of madman, because thephilosophers(?)ofthedaydeclaredthethingimpossible.Reallynowitdoesseem tome quite unaccountable how any thing so obviously feasible couldhave escaped the sagacity of the ancient savans. But in all ages the greatobstacles toadvancement inArthavebeenopposedby theso-calledmenofscience.Tobe sure,ourmenof sciencearenotquite sobigotedas thoseofold:—oh, Ihave something soqueer to tellyouon this topic.Doyouknowthat it is not more than a thousand years ago since the metaphysiciansconsentedtorelievethepeopleofthesingularfancythatthereexistedbuttwopossibleroadsfortheattainmentofTruth!Believeitifyoucan!Itappearsthatlong, long ago, in the night of Time, there lived a Turkish philosopher (orHindoopossibly)calledAriesTottle.Thispersonintroduced,oratalleventspropagatedwhatwas termedthedeductiveorapriorimodeof investigation.Hestartedwithwhathemaintainedtobeaxiomsor"self-evidenttruths,"andthence proceeded "logically" to results. His greatest disciples were oneNeuclid,andoneCant.Well,AriesTottleflourishedsupremeuntiladventofoneHog,surnamedthe"EttrickShepherd,"whopreachedanentirelydifferentsystem, which he called the a posteriori or inductive. His plan referredaltogethertoSensation.Heproceededbyobserving,analyzing,andclassifyingfacts-instantiae naturae, as they were affectedly called—into general laws.AriesTottle'smode,inaword,wasbasedonnoumena;Hog'sonphenomena.Well,sogreatwastheadmirationexcitedbythislattersystemthat,atitsfirstintroduction,AriesTottle fell intodisrepute;but finallyhe recoveredgroundandwaspermitted todivide the realmofTruthwithhismoremodern rival.ThesavansnowmaintainedtheAristotelianandBaconianroadswerethesolepossibleavenuestoknowledge."Baconian,"youmustknow,wasanadjectiveinventedasequivalenttoHog-ianandmoreeuphoniousanddignified.Now,mydearfriend,Idoassureyou,mostpositively, thatIrepresent this

matterfairly,on thesoundestauthorityandyoucaneasilyunderstandhowanotionsoabsurdonitsveryfacemusthaveoperatedtoretardtheprogressofalltrueknowledge—whichmakesitsadvancesalmostinvariablybyintuitivebounds. The ancient idea confined investigations to crawling; and forhundreds of years so great was the infatuation about Hog especially, that avirtualendwasput toall thinking,properlysocalled.Nomandaredutteratruth to which he felt himself indebted to his Soul alone. It mattered notwhetherthetruthwasevendemonstrablyatruth,forthebullet-headedsavansofthetimeregardedonlytheroadbywhichhehadattainedit.Theywouldnotevenlookattheend."Letusseethemeans,"theycried,"themeans!"If,upon

investigationof themeans, itwas found to comeunderneither the categoryAries (that is to sayRam)norunder thecategoryHog,why then thesavanswentnofarther,butpronouncedthe"theorist"afool,andwouldhavenothingtodowithhimorhistruth.Now,itcannotbemaintained,even,thatbythecrawlingsystemthegreatest

amountoftruthwouldbeattainedinanylongseriesofages,fortherepressionofimaginationwasanevilnottobecompensatedforbyanysuperiorcertaintyin the ancient modes of investigation. The error of these Jurmains, theseVrinch, theseInglitch,and theseAmriccans(the latter,by theway,wereourown immediate progenitors), was an error quite analogous with that of thewiseacrewhofanciesthathemustnecessarilyseeanobjectthebetterthemoreclosely he holds it to his eyes. These people blinded themselves by details.WhentheyproceededHoggishly,their"facts"werebynomeansalwaysfacts—amatterof littleconsequencehad itnotbeenforassuming that theywerefacts and must be facts because they appeared to be such. When theyproceededon thepathof theRam, theircoursewasscarcelyasstraightasaram'shorn,fortheyneverhadanaxiomwhichwasanaxiomatall.Theymusthavebeenveryblindnottoseethis,evenintheirownday;forevenintheirown day many of the long "established" axioms had been rejected. Forexample—"Ex nihilo nihil fit"; "a body cannot act where it is not"; "therecannotexistantipodes";"darknesscannotcomeoutoflight"—allthese,andadozen other similar propositions, formerly admitted without hesitation asaxioms,were,evenattheperiodofwhichIspeak,seentobeuntenable.Howabsurd in these people, then, to persist in putting faith in "axioms" asimmutable bases of Truth! But even out of the mouths of their soundestreasoners it is easy to demonstrate the futility, the impalpability of theiraxiomsingeneral.Whowasthesoundestoftheirlogicians?Letmesee!IwillgoandaskPunditandbebackinaminute....Ah,herewehaveit!Hereisabook written nearly a thousand years ago and lately translated from theInglitch—which, by the way, appears to have been the rudiment of theAmriccan.Punditsaysit isdecidedlythecleverestancientworkonits topic,Logic.Theauthor (whowasmuch thoughtof inhisday)wasoneMiller,orMill;andwefind it recordedofhim,asapointofsomeimportance, thathehadamill-horsecalledBentham.Butletusglanceatthetreatise!Ah!—"Abilityorinabilitytoconceive,"saysMr.Mill,veryproperly,"isin

nocasetobereceivedasacriterionofaxiomatictruth."Whatmoderninhissenseswould ever think of disputing this truism?The onlywonderwith usmustbe,howithappenedthatMr.Millconceiveditnecessaryeventohintatany thingsoobvious.Sofargood—but letus turnoveranotherpaper.Whathavewehere?—"Contradictoriescannotbothbetrue—thatis,cannotco-existinnature."HereMr.Millmeans,forexample,thatatreemustbeeitheratreeor not a tree—that it cannot be at the same time a tree andnot a tree.Very

well;butIaskhimwhy.Hisreplyisthis—andneverpretendstobeanythingelsethanthis—"Becauseit is impossibletoconceivethatcontradictoriescanbothbetrue."Butthisisnoansweratall,byhisownshowing,forhashenotjustadmittedasatruismthat"abilityorinabilitytoconceiveisinnocasetobereceivedasacriterionofaxiomatictruth."NowIdonotcomplainoftheseancientssomuchbecausetheirlogicis,by

their own showing, utterly baseless, worthless and fantastic altogether, asbecauseoftheirpompousandimbecileproscriptionofallotherroadsofTruth,ofallothermeansforitsattainmentthanthetwopreposterouspaths—theoneofcreepingandtheoneofcrawling—towhichtheyhavedaredtoconfinetheSoulthatlovesnothingsowellastosoar.By the by,my dear friend, do you not think it would have puzzled these

ancientdogmaticians tohavedeterminedbywhichof their two roads itwasthat the most important andmost sublime of all their truths was, in effect,attained? Imean the truthofGravitation.Newtonowed it toKepler.Kepleradmitted that his three laws were guessed at—these three laws of all lawswhich led the great Inglitchmathematician to his principle, the basis of allphysical principle—to go behind which we must enter the Kingdom ofMetaphysics.Kepler guessed—that is to say imagined.Hewas essentially a"theorist"—that word now of so much sanctity, formerly an epithet ofcontempt.Woulditnothavepuzzledtheseoldmolestoo,tohaveexplainedbywhich of the two "roads" a cryptographist unriddles a cryptograph ofmorethan usual secrecy, or by which of the two roads Champollion directedmankindtothoseenduringandalmostinnumerabletruthswhichresultedfromhisdecipheringtheHieroglyphics.OnewordmoreonthistopicandIwillbedoneboringyou.Isitnotpassing

strange that, with their eternal prattling about roads to Truth, these bigotedpeoplemissedwhatwenowsoclearlyperceivetobethegreathighway—thatof Consistency? Does it not seem singular how they should have failed todeducefromtheworksofGodthevitalfactthataperfectconsistencymustbean absolute truth! How plain has been our progress since the lateannouncement of this proposition! Investigation has been taken out of thehands of the ground-moles and given, as a task, to the true and only truethinkers, themen of ardent imagination. These latter theorize. Can you notfancy the shout of scorn with which my words would be received by ourprogenitorswere it possible for them to be now looking overmy shoulder?Thesemen, I say, theorize; and their theories are simply corrected, reduced,systematized—cleared, little by little, of their dross of inconsistency—until,finally, a perfect consistency stands apparent which even the most stolidadmit, because it is a consistency, to be an absolute and an unquestionabletruth.April 4.—The new gas is doing wonders, in conjunction with the new

improvement with gutta percha. How very safe, commodious, manageable,andineveryrespectconvenientareourmodernballoons!Hereisanimmenseoneapproachingusattherateofatleastahundredandfiftymilesanhour.Itseems to be crowdedwith people—perhaps there are three or four hundredpassengers—andyet it soars to an elevationof nearly amile, lookingdownuponpooruswith sovereigncontempt.Still ahundredoreven twohundredmilesanhourisslowtravellingafterall.DoyourememberourflightontherailroadacrosstheKanadawcontinent?—fullythreehundredmilesthehour—thatwas travelling.Nothing tobeseen though—nothing tobedonebutflirt,feast and dance in themagnificent saloons.Do you rememberwhat an oddsensationwasexperiencedwhen,bychance,wecaughtaglimpseofexternalobjectswhilethecarswereinfullflight?Everythingseemedunique—inonemass.Formypart,IcannotsaybutthatIpreferredthetravellingbytheslowtrain of a hundred miles the hour. Here we were permitted to have glasswindows—eventohavethemopen—andsomethinglikeadistinctviewofthecountry was attainable.... Pundit says that the route for the great Kanadawrailroad must have been in some measure marked out about nine hundredyearsago! In fact,hegoessofaras toassert thatactual tracesofa roadarestill discernible—traces referable to a period quite as remote as thatmentioned.Thetrack,itappearswasdoubleonly;ours,youknow,hastwelvepaths; and threeor fournewones are inpreparation.The ancient railswereveryslight,andplacedsoclosetogetherastobe,accordingtomodernnotions,quitefrivolous,ifnotdangerousintheextreme.Thepresentwidthoftrack—fiftyfeet—isconsidered,indeed,scarcelysecureenough.Formypart,Imakenodoubtthatatrackofsomesortmusthaveexistedinveryremotetimes,asPundit asserts; for nothing can be clearer, to my mind, than that, at someperiod—not less than seven centuries ago, certainly—the Northern andSouthernKanadawcontinentswereunited;theKanawdians,then,wouldhavebeendriven,bynecessity,toagreatrailroadacrossthecontinent.April 5.—I am almost devoured by ennui. Pundit is the only conversible

persononboard;andhe,poorsoul!canspeakofnothingbutantiquities.Hehasbeenoccupiedall theday in theattempt toconvinceme that theancientAmriccans governed themselves!—did ever anybody hear of such anabsurdity?—thattheyexistedinasortofevery-man-for-himselfconfederacy,after the fashionof the "prairie dogs" thatwe readof in fable.He says thattheystartedwiththequeerestideaconceivable,viz:thatallmenarebornfreeandequal—thisintheveryteethofthelawsofgradationsovisiblyimpresseduponallthingsbothinthemoralandphysicaluniverse.Everyman"voted,"asthey called it—that is to saymeddledwith public affairs—until at length, itwas discovered that what is everybody's business is nobody's, and that the"Republic"(sotheabsurdthingwascalled)waswithoutagovernmentatall.Itis related, however, that the first circumstance which disturbed, very

particularly, the self-complacency of the philosophers who constructed this"Republic," was the startling discovery that universal suffrage gaveopportunityforfraudulentschemes,bymeansofwhichanydesirednumberofvotesmightatanytimebepolled,withoutthepossibilityofpreventionorevendetection, by anypartywhich shouldbemerelyvillainous enoughnot tobeashamedofthefraud.Alittlereflectionuponthisdiscoverysufficedtorenderevident theconsequences,whichwere that rascalitymustpredominate—inaword, that a republican government could never be any thing but a rascallyone. While the philosophers, however, were busied in blushing at theirstupidity in not having foreseen these inevitable evils, and intent upon theinventionofnewtheories,thematterwasputtoanabruptissuebyafellowofthe name of Mob, who took every thing into his own hands and set up adespotism, in comparison with which those of the fabulous Zeros andHellofagabaluseswererespectableanddelectable.ThisMob(aforeigner,by-the-by),issaidtohavebeenthemostodiousofallmenthateverencumberedtheearth.Hewasagiantinstature—insolent,rapacious,filthy,hadthegallofabullockwith theheartofahyenaand thebrainsofapeacock.Hedied,atlength, by dint of his own energies,which exhausted him.Nevertheless, hehadhisuses, as every thinghas,howevervile, and taughtmankinda lessonwhich to this day it is in no danger of forgetting—never to run directlycontrarytothenaturalanalogies.AsforRepublicanism,noanalogycouldbefound for it upon the face of the earth—unless we except the case of the"prairie dogs," an exception which seems to demonstrate, if anything, thatdemocracyisaveryadmirableformofgovernment—fordogs.April6.—Lastnighthada fineviewofAlphaLyrae,whosedisk, through

ourcaptain'sspy-glass,subtendsanangleofhalfadegree,lookingverymuchasoursundoestothenakedeyeonamistyday.AlphaLyrae,althoughsoverymuchlargerthanoursun,bytheby,resembleshimcloselyasregardsitsspots,itsatmosphere,andinmanyotherparticulars.Itisonlywithinthelastcentury,Pundittellsme,thatthebinaryrelationexistingbetweenthesetwoorbsbeganeven tobe suspected.Theevidentmotionofour system in theheavenswas(strangetosay!)referredtoanorbitaboutaprodigiousstarinthecentreofthegalaxy.Aboutthisstar,oratalleventsaboutacentreofgravitycommontoalltheglobesoftheMilkyWayandsupposedtobenearAlcyoneinthePleiades,everyoneof theseglobeswasdeclaredtoberevolving,ourownperformingthecircuitinaperiodof117,000,000ofyears!We,withourpresentlights,ourvast telescopic improvements, and so forth, of course find it difficult tocomprehend thegroundof an idea such as this. Its first propagatorwasoneMudler. He was led, we must presume, to this wild hypothesis by mereanalogyin thefirst instance;but, thisbeingthecase,heshouldhaveat leastadhered to analogy in its development. A great central orb was, in fact,suggested; so far Mudler was consistent. This central orb, however,

dynamically, should have been greater than all its surrounding orbs takentogether. The question might then have been asked—"Why do we not seeit?"—we, especially, who occupy the mid region of the cluster—the verylocalitynearwhich, at least,mustbe situated this inconceivablecentral sun.Theastronomer,perhaps,at thispoint, tookrefuge in thesuggestionofnon-luminosity; and here analogywas suddenly let fall. But even admitting thecentral orb non-luminous, how did he manage to explain its failure to berendered visible by the incalculable host of glorious suns glaring in alldirectionsaboutit?Nodoubtwhathefinallymaintainedwasmerelyacentreof gravity common to all the revolving orbs—but here again analogymusthavebeenletfall.Oursystemrevolves, it is true,aboutacommoncentreofgravity,but itdoes this inconnectionwithand inconsequenceofamaterialsun whose mass more than counterbalances the rest of the system. Themathematical circle is a curve composed of an infinity of straight lines; butthisideaofthecircle—thisideaofitwhich,inregardtoallearthlygeometry,we consider as merely the mathematical, in contradistinction from thepractical,idea—is,insoberfact,thepracticalconceptionwhichalonewehaveanyrighttoentertaininrespecttothoseTitaniccircleswithwhichwehavetodeal,atleastinfancy,whenwesupposeoursystem,withitsfellows,revolvingabout a point in the centre of the galaxy. Let the most vigorous of humanimaginationsbutattempttotakeasinglesteptowardthecomprehensionofacircuit sounutterable! Iwould scarcelybeparadoxical to say that a flashoflightningitself,travellingforeveruponthecircumferenceofthisinconceivablecircle,wouldstillforeverbetravellinginastraightline.Thatthepathofoursunalongsuchacircumference—that thedirectionofoursysteminsuchanorbit—would,toanyhumanperception,deviateintheslightestdegreefromastraightlineeveninamillionofyears,isapropositionnottobeentertained;and yet these ancient astronomers were absolutely cajoled, it appears, intobelieving that a decisive curvature had become apparent during the briefperiodoftheirastronomicalhistory—duringthemerepoint—duringtheutternothingness of two or three thousand years! How incomprehensible, thatconsiderations suchas thisdidnot atonce indicate to them the true stateofaffairs—that of the binary revolution of our sun andAlpha Lyrae around acommoncentreofgravity!April 7.—Continued last night our astronomical amusements. Had a fine

view of the five Neptunian asteroids, and watched with much interest theputtingupofahugeimpostonacoupleoflintelsinthenewtempleatDaphnisin the moon. It was amusing to think that creatures so diminutive as thelunarians, and bearing so little resemblance to humanity, yet evinced amechanicalingenuitysomuchsuperiortoourown.Onefindsitdifficult,too,toconceivethevastmasseswhichthesepeoplehandlesoeasily,tobeaslightasourownreasontellsustheyactuallyare.

April8.—Eureka!Punditisinhisglory.AballoonfromKanadawspokeusto-dayandthrewonboardseverallatepapers;theycontainsomeexceedinglycuriousinformationrelativetoKanawdianorratherAmriccanantiquities.Youknow, I presume, that laborers have for some months been employed inpreparing thegroundforanewfountainatParadise, theEmperor'sprincipalpleasure garden. Paradise, it appears, has been, literally speaking, an islandtimeoutofmind—thatistosay,itsnorthernboundarywasalways(asfarbackasanyrecordextends)arivulet,orratheraverynarrowarmofthesea.Thisarmwasgraduallywideneduntil itattained itspresentbreadth—amile.Thewhole length of the island is ninemiles; the breadth variesmaterially. Theentire area (so Pundit says) was, about eight hundred years ago, denselypackedwithhouses, someof them twenty storieshigh; land (for somemostunaccountable reason) being considered as especially precious just in thisvicinity. The disastrous earthquake, however, of the year 2050, so totallyuprootedandoverwhelmedthetown(foritwasalmosttoolargetobecalledavillage) that themost indefatigable of our antiquarians have never yet beenabletoobtainfromthesiteanysufficientdata(intheshapeofcoins,medalsorinscriptions)wherewithtobuildupeventheghostofatheoryconcerningthemanners,customs,&c.,&c.,&c.,oftheaboriginalinhabitants.Nearlyallthatwe have hitherto known of them is, that they were a portion of theKnickerbockertribeofsavagesinfestingthecontinentatitsfirstdiscoverybyRecorder Riker, a knight of the Golden Fleece. They were by no meansuncivilized, however, but cultivated various arts and even sciences after afashion of their own. It is related of them that they were acute in manyrespects, butwereoddly afflictedwithmonomania for buildingwhat, in theancientAmriccan,wasdenominated"churches"—akindofpagodainstitutedfortheworshipoftwoidolsthatwentbythenamesofWealthandFashion.Inthe end, it is said, the islandbecame,nine tenthsof it, church.Thewomen,too, itappears,wereoddlydeformedbyanaturalprotuberanceof theregionjust below the small of the back—although, most unaccountably, thisdeformity was looked upon altogether in the light of a beauty. One or twopicturesof these singularwomenhave in fact, beenmiraculouslypreserved.They look very odd, very—like something between a turkey-cock and adromedary.Well,thesefewdetailsarenearlyallthathavedescendedtousrespectingthe

ancientKnickerbockers.Itseems,however,thatwhiledigginginthecentreoftheemperorsgarden,(which,youknow,coversthewholeisland),someoftheworkmen unearthed a cubical and evidently chiseled block of granite,weighing several hundred pounds. It was in good preservation, havingreceived,apparently,littleinjuryfromtheconvulsionwhichentombedit.Ononeofitssurfaceswasamarbleslabwith(onlythinkofit!)aninscription—alegible inscription. Pundit is in ecstacies.Upon detaching the slab, a cavity

appeared, containing a leadenbox filledwithvarious coins, a long scroll ofnames, several documentswhich appear to resemblenewspapers,withothermattersof intense interest to theantiquarian!Therecanbenodoubt that allthesearegenuineAmriccanrelicsbelongingtothetribecalledKnickerbocker.The papers thrown on board our balloon are filled with fac-similes of thecoins, MSS., typography, &c., &c. I copy for your amusement theKnickerbockerinscriptiononthemarbleslab:—

ThisCornerStoneofaMonumentto

TheMemoryof

GEORGEWASHINGTON

WasLaidWithAppropriateCeremonies

onthe

19thDayofOctober,1847

Theanniversaryofthesurrenderof

LordCornwallis

toGeneralWashingtonatYorktown

A.D.1781

UndertheAuspicesofthe

WashingtonMonumentAssociationof

thecityofNewYork

This,asIgiveit,isaverbatimtranslationdonebyPundithimself,sotherecan be no mistake about it. From the few words thus preserved, we gleanseveralimportantitemsofknowledge,nottheleastinterestingofwhichisthefact that a thousand years ago actualmonuments had fallen into disuse—aswasallveryproper—thepeoplecontentingthemselves,aswedonow,withamere indication of the design to erect a monument at some future time; acorner-stonebeingcautiouslylaidbyitself"solitaryandalone"(excusemeforquotingthegreatAmericanpoetBenton!),asaguaranteeofthemagnanimousintention.We ascertain, too, very distinctly, from this admirable inscription,thehowaswellasthewhereandthewhat,ofthegreatsurrenderinquestion.Astothewhere,itwasYorktown(whereverthatwas),andastothewhat,itwas General Cornwallis (no doubt some wealthy dealer in corn). He wassurrendered.Theinscriptioncommemoratesthesurrenderof—what?why,"ofLord Cornwallis." The only question is what could the savages wish himsurrenderedfor.Butwhenwerememberthatthesesavageswereundoubtedlycannibals,weareledtotheconclusionthattheyintendedhimforsausage.Astothehowofthesurrender,nolanguagecanbemoreexplicit.LordCornwalliswas surrendered (for sausage) "under the auspices of the WashingtonMonumentAssociation"—nodoubtacharitable institutionfor thedepositing

ofcorner-stones.—But,Heavenblessme!whatisthematter?Ah,Isee—theballoon has collapsed, and we shall have a tumble into the sea. I have,therefore, only time enough to add that, from a hasty inspection of the fac-similesofnewspapers,&c.,&c.,IfindthatthegreatmeninthosedaysamongtheAmriccans,wereoneJohn,asmith,andoneZacchary,atailor.Good-bye,until I seeyouagain.Whetheryoueverget this letterornot is

pointoflittleimportance,asIwritealtogetherformyownamusement.IshallcorktheMS.upinabottle,however,andthrowitintothesea.Yourseverlastingly,

PUNDITA.

THEDUCDEL'OMELETTE.

Andsteppedatonceintoacoolerclime.—Cowper

KEATSfellbyacriticism.Whowasitdiedof"TheAndromache"?Ignoblesouls!—DeL'Omeletteperishedofanortolan.L'histoireenestbrève.Assistme,SpiritofApicius!Agoldencageborethelittlewingedwanderer,enamored,melting,indolent,

to the Chaussée D'Antin, from its home in far Peru. From its queenlypossessorLaBellissima, to theDucDeL'Omelette, six peers of the empireconveyedthehappybird.ThatnighttheDucwastosupalone.Intheprivacyofhisbureauhereclined

languidlyonthatottomanforwhichhesacrificedhisloyaltyinoutbiddinghisking—thenotoriousottomanofCadet.He buries his face in the pillow. The clock strikes!Unable to restrain his

feelings,hisGraceswallowsanolive.Atthismomentthedoorgentlyopenstothesoundofsoftmusic,andlo!themostdelicateofbirdsisbeforethemostenamored of men! But what inexpressible dismay now overshadows thecountenance of the Duc?—"Horreur!—chien! Baptiste!—l'oiseau! ah, bonDieu!cetoiseaumodestequetuasdéshabillédesesplumes,etquetuasservisanspapier!"Itissuperfluoustosaymore:—theDucexpiredinaparoxysmofdisgust."Ha!ha!ha!"saidhisGraceonthethirddayafterhisdecease."He! he! he!" replied theDevil faintly, drawing himself upwith an air of

hauteur."Why,surelyyouarenotserious,"retortedDeL'Omelette."Ihavesinned—

c'est vrai—but, my good sir, consider!—you have no actual intention ofputtingsuch—suchbarbarousthreatsintoexecution.""Nowhat?"saidhismajesty—"come,sir,strip!"

"Strip, indeed! very pretty i' faith! no, sir, I shall not strip.Who are you,pray,thatI,DucDeL'Omelette,PrincedeFoie-Gras,justcomeofage,authorofthe'Mazurkiad,'andMemberoftheAcademy,shoulddivestmyselfatyourbiddingofthesweetestpantaloonsevermadebyBourdon,thedaintiestrobe-de-chambre everput togetherbyRombert—to saynothingof the takingmyhairoutofpaper—nottomentionthetroubleIshouldhaveindrawingoffmygloves?""WhoamI?—ah,true!IamBaal-Zebub,PrinceoftheFly.Itookthee,just

now,fromarose-woodcoffininlaidwithivory.Thouwastcuriouslyscented,and labelled as per invoice. Belial sent thee,—my Inspector of Cemeteries.Thepantaloons,which thou sayestweremadebyBourdon, are an excellentpair of linen drawers, and thy robe-de-chambre is a shroud of no scantydimensions.""Sir!"repliedtheDuc,"Iamnottobeinsultedwithimpunity!—Sir!Ishall

taketheearliestopportunityofavengingthisinsult!—Sir!youshallhearfromme!inthemeantimeaurevoir!"—andtheDucwasbowinghimselfoutoftheSatanicpresence,whenhewasinterruptedandbroughtbackbyagentlemaninwaiting.HereuponhisGracerubbedhiseyes,yawned,shruggedhisshoulders,reflected.Havingbecomesatisfiedofhisidentity,hetookabird'seyeviewofhiswhereabouts.Theapartmentwassuperb.EvenDeL'Omelettepronounceditbiencomme

il faut. It was not its length nor its breadth,—but its height—ah, that wasappalling!—Therewasnoceiling—certainlynone—butadensewhirlingmassoffiery-coloredclouds.HisGrace'sbrainreeledasheglancedupward.Fromabove,hungachainofanunknownblood-redmetal—itsupperendlost,likethe city ofBoston, parmi les nues. From its nether extremity swung a largecresset. The Duc knew it to be a ruby; but from it there poured a light sointense, so still, so terrible, Persia never worshipped such—Gheber neverimagined such—Mussulman never dreamed of such when, drugged withopium,hehastotteredtoabedofpoppies,hisbacktotheflowers,andhisfacetotheGodApollo.TheDucmutteredaslightoath,decidedlyapprobatory.Thecornersoftheroomwereroundedintoniches.Threeofthesewerefilled

withstatuesofgiganticproportions.TheirbeautywasGrecian,theirdeformityEgyptian,theirtoutensembleFrench.Inthefourthnichethestatuewasveiled;it was not colossal. But then there was a taper ankle, a sandalled foot. DeL'Omelettepressedhishanduponhisheart,closedhiseyes,raisedthem,andcaughthisSatanicMajesty—inablush.But thepaintings!—Kupris!Astarte!Astoreth!—a thousandand the same!

AndRafaelle has beheld them!Yes, Rafaelle has been here, for did he notpaint the—? and was he not consequently damned? The paintings—thepaintings!Oluxury!Olove!—who,gazingonthoseforbiddenbeauties,shallhave eyes for the dainty devices of the golden frames that besprinkled, like

stars,thehyacinthandtheporphyrywalls?But the Duc's heart is fainting within him. He is not, however, as you

suppose,dizzywithmagnificence,nordrunkwiththeecstaticbreathofthoseinnumerablecensers.C'estvraiquedetoutesceschosesilapensebeaucoup—mais! TheDucDe L'Omelette is terror-stricken; for, through the lurid vistawhichasingleuncurtainedwindowisaffording, lo!gleamsthemostghastlyofallfires!Le pauvre Duc! He could not help imagining that the glorious, the

voluptuous,thenever-dyingmelodieswhichpervadedthathall,astheypassedfilteredandtransmutedthroughthealchemyoftheenchantedwindow-panes,were the wailings and the howlings of the hopeless and the damned! Andthere, too!—there!—upon the ottoman!—who could he be?—he, thepetitmaître—no,theDeity—whosatasifcarvedinmarble,etquisourit,withhispalecountenance,siamèrement?Maisilfautagir—thatistosay,aFrenchmanneverfaintsoutright.Besides,

hisGracehated a scene—DeL'Omelette is himself again.Therewere somefoilsupona table—somepoints also.TheDuc s'échapper.Hemeasures twopoints,and,withagraceinimitable,offershisMajestythechoice.Horreur!hisMajestydoesnotfence!Mais il joue!—how happy a thought!—but his Grace had always an

excellentmemory.Hehaddippedinthe"Diable"ofAbbéGualtier.Thereinitissaid"queleDiablen'osepasrefuserunjeud'écarte."But the chances—the chances! True—desperate: but scarcely more

desperate than the Duc. Besides, was he not in the secret?—had he notskimmedoverPèreLeBrun?—washenot amemberof theClubVingt-un?"Sijeperds,"saidhe,"jeseraideuxfoisperdu—Ishallbedoublydammed—voilàtout!(HerehisGraceshruggedhisshoulders.)Sijegagne,jereviendraiamesortolans—quelescartessoientpréparées!"HisGracewasallcare,allattention—hisMajestyallconfidence.Aspectator

wouldhave thoughtofFrancisandCharles.HisGrace thoughtofhisgame.HisMajestydidnotthink;heshuffled.TheDuccut.The cardswere dealt. The trump is turned—it is—it is—the king!No—it

wasthequeen.HisMajestycursedhermasculinehabiliments.DeL'Omeletteplacedhishanduponhisheart.They play. TheDuc counts. The hand is out.HisMajesty counts heavily,

smiles,andistakingwine.TheDucslipsacard."C'estàvousàfaire,"saidhisMajesty,cutting.HisGracebowed,dealt,and

arosefromthetableenpresentantleRoi.HisMajestylookedchagrined.HadAlexandernotbeenAlexander,hewouldhavebeenDiogenes;andthe

Ducassuredhisantagonistintakingleave,"ques'iln'eûtétéDeL'Omeletteil

n'auraitpointd'objectiond'êtreleDiable."

THEOBLONGBOX.

SOMEyears ago, I engagedpassage fromCharleston,S.C, to the cityofNewYork,inthefinepacket-ship"Independence,"CaptainHardy.Weweretosail on the fifteenth of the month (June), weather permitting; and on thefourteenth,Iwentonboardtoarrangesomemattersinmystate-room.Ifoundthatweweretohaveagreatmanypassengers,includingamorethan

usual number of ladies. On the list were several of my acquaintances, andamongothernames,IwasrejoicedtoseethatofMr.CorneliusWyatt,ayoungartist,forwhomIentertainedfeelingsofwarmfriendship.Hehadbeenwithmeafellow-studentatC—University,wherewewereverymuchtogether.Hehadtheordinarytemperamentofgenius,andwasacompoundofmisanthropy,sensibility,andenthusiasm.Tothesequalitiesheunitedthewarmestandtruestheartwhicheverbeatinahumanbosom.Iobservedthathisnamewascardeduponthreestate-rooms;and,uponagain

referring to the list of passengers, I found that he had engaged passage forhimself, wife, and two sisters—his own. The state-rooms were sufficientlyroomy,andeachhadtwoberths,oneabovetheother.Theseberths,tobesure,were so exceedingly narrow as to be insufficient formore than one person;still,Icouldnotcomprehendwhytherewerethreestate-roomsforthesefourpersons.Iwas,justatthatepoch,inoneofthosemoodyframesofmindwhichmakeamanabnormally inquisitive about trifles: and I confess,with shame,thatIbusiedmyselfinavarietyofill-bredandpreposterousconjecturesaboutthismatterofthesupernumerarystate-room.Itwasnobusinessofmine,tobesure, but with none the less pertinacity did I occupy myself in attempts toresolvetheenigma.AtlastIreachedaconclusionwhichwroughtinmegreatwonderwhyIhadnotarrivedat itbefore."It isaservantofcourse," Isaid;"whatafoolIam,notsoonertohavethoughtofsoobviousasolution!"AndthenIagainrepairedtothelist—buthereIsawdistinctlythatnoservantwasto comewith the party, although, in fact, it had been the original design tobring one—for the words "and servant" had been first written and thenoverscored. "Oh, extra baggage, to be sure," I now said to myself—"somethinghewishesnottobeputinthehold—somethingtobekeptunderhis owneye—ah, I have it—apaintingor so—and this iswhat hehas beenbargainingaboutwithNicolino,theItalianJew."Thisideasatisfiedme,andIdismissedmycuriosityforthenonce.Wyatt'stwosistersIknewverywell,andmostamiableandclevergirlsthey

were.Hiswifehehadnewlymarried, and Ihadneveryet seenher.Hehad

often talked about her in my presence, however, and in his usual style ofenthusiasm. He described her as of surpassing beauty, wit, andaccomplishment.Iwas,therefore,quiteanxioustomakeheracquaintance.OnthedayinwhichIvisitedtheship(thefourteenth),Wyattandpartywere

also tovisit it—so thecaptain informedme—andIwaitedonboardanhourlongerthanIhaddesigned,inhopeofbeingpresentedtothebride,butthenanapologycame."Mrs.W.wasalittleindisposed,andwoulddeclinecomingonboarduntilto-morrow,atthehourofsailing."Themorrowhavingarrived,Iwasgoingfrommyhoteltothewharf,when

CaptainHardymetmeandsaid that,"owing tocircumstances" (astupidbutconvenientphrase),"heratherthoughtthe'Independence'wouldnotsailforadayortwo,andthatwhenallwasready,hewouldsendupandletmeknow."This I thought strange, for there was a stiff southerly breeze; but as "thecircumstances"werenotforthcoming,althoughIpumpedforthemwithmuchperseverance,Ihadnothingtodobuttoreturnhomeanddigestmyimpatienceatleisure.Ididnotreceivetheexpectedmessagefromthecaptainfornearlyaweek.It

came at length, however, and I immediately went on board. The ship wascrowdedwith passengers, and every thingwas in the bustle attendant uponmaking sail.Wyatt's party arrived in about ten minutes after myself. Therewere the two sisters, the bride, and the artist—the latter in one of hiscustomaryfitsofmoodymisanthropy.Iwastoowellusedtothese,however,topaythemanyspecialattention.Hedidnotevenintroducemetohiswife—thiscourtesydevolving,perforce,uponhissisterMarian—averysweetandintelligentgirl,who,inafewhurriedwords,madeusacquainted.Mrs. Wyatt had been closely veiled; and when she raised her veil, in

acknowledgingmy bow, I confess that I was very profoundly astonished. Ishould have beenmuchmore so, however, had not long experience advisedmenottotrust,withtooimplicitareliance,theenthusiasticdescriptionsofmyfriend,theartist,whenindulgingincommentsuponthelovelinessofwoman.Whenbeautywasthetheme,Iwellknewwithwhatfacilityhesoaredintotheregionsofthepurelyideal.The truth is, I could not help regardingMrs.Wyatt as a decidedly plain-

lookingwoman.Ifnotpositivelyugly,shewasnot, I think,veryfarfromit.Shewasdressed,however,inexquisitetaste—andthenIhadnodoubtthatshehadcaptivatedmyfriend'sheartby themoreenduringgracesof the intellectandsoul.Shesaidveryfewwords,andpassedatonceintoherstate-roomwithMr.W.My old inquisitiveness now returned. There was no servant—that was a

settledpoint. I looked, therefore, for the extra baggage.After somedelay, acartarrivedatthewharf,withanoblongpinebox,whichwaseverythingthat

seemed tobe expected. Immediatelyupon its arrivalwemade sail, and in ashorttimeweresafelyoverthebarandstandingouttosea.Theboxinquestionwas,asIsay,oblong.Itwasaboutsixfeetinlengthby

twoandahalfinbreadth;Iobserveditattentively,andliketobeprecise.Nowthis shape was peculiar; and no sooner had I seen it, than I took credit tomyselffortheaccuracyofmyguessing.Ihadreachedtheconclusion,itwillberemembered,thattheextrabaggageofmyfriend,theartist,wouldprovetobepictures,oratleastapicture;forIknewhehadbeenforseveralweeksinconferencewithNicolino:—andnowherewasabox,which, fromits shape,could possibly contain nothing in theworld but a copy ofLeonardo's "LastSupper;"andacopyofthisvery"LastSupper,"donebyRubinitheyounger,atFlorence, I had known, for some time, to be in the possession ofNicolino.This point, therefore, I considered as sufficiently settled. I chuckledexcessivelywhen I thought ofmy acumen. It was the first time I had everknown Wyatt to keep from me any of his artistical secrets; but here heevidently intended to steal amarch uponme, and smuggle a fine picture toNewYork,undermyverynose;expectingmetoknownothingofthematter.Iresolvedtoquizhimwell,nowandhereafter.One thing, however, annoyedme not a little.The box did not go into the

extrastate-room.ItwasdepositedinWyatt'sown;andthere,too,itremained,occupying very nearly the whole of the floor—no doubt to the exceedingdiscomfort of the artist andhiswife;—this themore especially as the tar orpaint with which it was lettered in sprawling capitals, emitted a strong,disagreeable,and, tomyfancy,apeculiarlydisgustingodor.Onthe lidwerepainted the words—"Mrs. Adelaide Curtis, Albany, New York. Charge ofCorneliusWyatt,Esq.Thissideup.Tobehandledwithcare."Now, I was aware that Mrs. Adelaide Curtis, of Albany, was the artist's

wife'smother,—butthenIlookeduponthewholeaddressasamystification,intendedespeciallyformyself.Imadeupmymind,ofcourse,thattheboxandcontents would never get farther north than the studio of my misanthropicfriend,inChambersStreet,NewYork.Forthefirstthreeorfourdayswehadfineweather,althoughthewindwas

dead ahead; having chopped round to the northward, immediately upon ourlosing sight of the coast. The passengerswere, consequently, in high spiritsanddisposedtobesocial.Imustexcept,however,Wyattandhissisters,whobehavedstiffly,and,Icouldnothelpthinking,uncourteouslytotherestoftheparty.Wyatt'sconductIdidnotsomuchregard.Hewasgloomy,evenbeyondhis usual habit—in fact he was morose—but in him I was prepared foreccentricity.Forthesisters,however,Icouldmakenoexcuse.Theysecludedthemselves in their staterooms during the greater part of the passage, andabsolutelyrefused,althoughIrepeatedlyurgedthem,toholdcommunicationwithanypersononboard.

Mrs.Wyattherselfwas farmoreagreeable.That is tosay, shewaschatty;andtobechattyisnoslightrecommendationatsea.Shebecameexcessivelyintimatewithmostof the ladies;and, tomyprofoundastonishment,evincedno equivocal disposition to coquet with the men. She amused us all verymuch.Isay"amused"—andscarcelyknowhowtoexplainmyself.The truthis, I soon found that Mrs. W. was far oftener laughed at than with. Thegentlemensaidlittleabouther;buttheladies,inalittlewhile,pronouncedher"a good-hearted thing, rather indifferent looking, totally uneducated, anddecidedlyvulgar."Thegreatwonderwas,howWyatthadbeenentrappedintosuch a match. Wealth was the general solution—but this I knew to be nosolutionatall;forWyatthadtoldmethatsheneitherbroughthimadollarnorhad any expectations from any sourcewhatever. "He hadmarried," he said,"for love, and for love only; and his bridewas farmore thanworthy of hislove."WhenIthoughtoftheseexpressions,onthepartofmyfriend,IconfessthatIfeltindescribablypuzzled.Coulditbepossiblethathewastakingleaveof his senses? What else could I think? He, so refined, so intellectual, sofastidious, with so exquisite a perception of the faulty, and so keen anappreciationof thebeautiful!Tobesure, the ladyseemedespecially fondofhim—particularly so in his absence—when she made herself ridiculous byfrequent quotations of what had been said by her "beloved husband, Mr.Wyatt."Theword"husband"seemedforever—touseoneofherowndelicateexpressions—forever "on the tip of her tongue." In the meantime, it wasobservedbyallonboard,thatheavoidedherinthemostpointedmanner,and,for themostpart, shuthimselfupalone inhis state-room,where, in fact,hemight have been said to live altogether, leaving his wife at full liberty toamuseherselfasshethoughtbest,inthepublicsocietyofthemaincabin.My conclusion, fromwhat I saw and heard,was, that, the artist, by some

unaccountablefreakoffate,orperhapsinsomefitofenthusiasticandfancifulpassion,hadbeen induced tounitehimselfwith apersonaltogetherbeneathhim,andthatthenaturalresult,entireandspeedydisgust,hadensued.Ipitiedhimfromthebottomofmyheart—butcouldnot,forthatreason,quiteforgivehisincommunicativenessinthematterofthe"LastSupper."ForthisIresolvedtohavemyrevenge.Onedayhe cameupondeck, and, takinghis armashadbeenmywont, I

sauntered with him backward and forward. His gloom, however (which Iconsideredquitenaturalunder thecircumstances),seemedentirelyunabated.He said little, and thatmoodily, andwith evident effort. I ventureda jestortwo,andhemadeasickeningattemptatasmile.Poorfellow!—asIthoughtofhiswife,Iwonderedthathecouldhavehearttoputoneventhesemblanceofmirth. I determined to commence a series of covert insinuations, orinnuendoes,about theoblongbox—just to lethimperceive,gradually, that Iwasnotaltogetherthebutt,orvictim,ofhislittlebitofpleasantmystification.

My first observation was by way of opening a masked battery. I saidsomethingaboutthe"peculiarshapeofthatbox-,"and,asIspokethewords,Ismiledknowingly,winked,andtouchedhimgentlywithmyforefingerintheribs.ThemannerinwhichWyattreceivedthisharmlesspleasantryconvincedme,

atonce,thathewasmad.Atfirsthestaredatmeasifhefounditimpossibletocomprehend the witticism ofmy remark; but as its point seemed slowly tomake its way into his brain, his eyes, in the same proportion, seemedprotrudingfromtheirsockets.Thenhegrewveryred—thenhideouslypale—then, as if highly amusedwithwhat I had insinuated, he began a loud andboisterous laugh, which, to my astonishment, he kept up, with graduallyincreasing vigor, for ten minutes or more. In conclusion, he fell flat andheavily upon the deck.When I ran to uplift him, to all appearance he wasdead.I called assistance, and,withmuch difficulty,we brought him to himself.

Upon revivinghe spoke incoherently for some time.At lengthwebledhimand put him to bed. The next morning he was quite recovered, so far asregarded his mere bodily health. Of his mind I say nothing, of course. Iavoided him during the rest of the passage, by advice of the captain, whoseemed to coincide with me altogether in my views of his insanity, butcautionedmetosaynothingonthisheadtoanypersononboard.Several circumstances occurred immediately after this fit ofWyatt which

contributed to heighten the curiosity with which I was already possessed.Amongother things, this: Ihadbeennervous—dranktoomuchstronggreentea,andsleptillatnight—infact,fortwonightsIcouldnotbeproperlysaidtosleepatall.Now,mystate-roomopenedintothemaincabin,ordining-room,asdid thoseofall thesinglemenonboard.Wyatt's three roomswere in theafter-cabin,whichwasseparatedfromthemainonebyaslightslidingdoor,neverlockedevenatnight.Aswewerealmostconstantlyonawind,andthebreezewasnotalittlestiff,theshipheeledtoleewardveryconsiderably;andwhenever her starboard side was to leeward, the sliding door between thecabins slid open, and so remained, nobody taking the trouble to get up andshut it.Butmyberthwas in such a position, thatwhenmyown state-roomdoorwasopen,aswellastheslidingdoorinquestion(andmyowndoorwasalways open on account of the heat,) I could see into the after-cabin quitedistinctly, and just at that portion of it, too, where were situated the state-rooms ofMr.Wyatt.Well, during two nights (not consecutive) while I layawake, I clearly sawMrs. W., about eleven o'clock upon each night, stealcautiouslyfromthestate-roomofMr.W.,andentertheextraroom,wheresheremaineduntildaybreak,whenshewascalledbyherhusbandandwentback.Thattheywerevirtuallyseparatedwasclear.Theyhadseparateapartments—nodoubtincontemplationofamorepermanentdivorce;andhere,afterallI

thoughtwasthemysteryoftheextrastate-room.Therewasanothercircumstance,too,whichinterestedmemuch.Duringthe

twowakeful nights in question, and immediately after the disappearance ofMrs. Wyatt into the extra state-room, I was attracted by certain singularcautious, subdued noises in that of her husband.After listening to them forsome time, with thoughtful attention, I at length succeeded perfectly intranslating their import.Theyweresoundsoccasionedby theartist inpryingopen the oblong box, by means of a chisel and mallet—the latter beingapparentlymuffled,ordeadened,bysomesoftwoollenorcottonsubstanceinwhichitsheadwasenveloped.In thismanner I fancied I could distinguish the precisemomentwhen he

fairly disengaged the lid—also, that I could determine when he removed italtogether, andwhen he deposited it upon the lower berth in his room; thislatterpointIknew,forexample,bycertainslight tapswhichthelidmadeinstrikingagainstthewoodenedgesoftheberth,asheendeavoredtolayitdownvery gently—there being no room for it on the floor.After this therewas adead stillness, and I heard nothingmore, upon either occasion, until nearlydaybreak;unless,perhaps,Imaymentionalowsobbing,ormurmuringsound,soverymuchsuppressedas tobenearly inaudible—if, indeed, thewholeofthis latter noise were not rather produced bymy own imagination. I say itseemedtoresemblesobbingorsighing—but,ofcourse,itcouldnothavebeeneither. I rather think itwas a ringing inmyown ears.Mr.Wyatt, no doubt,according to custom, was merely giving the rein to one of his hobbies—indulging inoneofhis fitsofartisticenthusiasm.Hehadopenedhisoblongbox, in order to feast his eyes on the pictorial treasure within. There wasnothinginthis,however,tomakehimsob.Irepeat,therefore,thatitmusthavebeensimplyafreakofmyownfancy,distemperedbygoodCaptainHardy'sgreen tea. Just before dawn, on each of the two nights of which I speak, IdistinctlyheardMr.Wyattreplacethelidupontheoblongbox,andforcethenailsintotheiroldplacesbymeansofthemuffledmallet.Havingdonethis,heissuedfromhisstate-room,fullydressed,andproceededtocallMrs.W.fromhers.Wehadbeenatseasevendays,andwerenowoffCapeHatteras,whenthere

cameatremendouslyheavyblowfromthesouthwest.Wewere,inameasure,preparedforit,however,astheweatherhadbeenholdingoutthreatsforsometime. Every thingwasmade snug, alow and aloft; and as thewind steadilyfreshened,we lay to, at length, under spanker and foretopsail, both double-reefed.In this trimwerodesafelyenoughfor forty-eighthours—theshipproving

herselfanexcellentsea-boat inmanyrespects,andshippingnowaterofanyconsequence.Attheendofthisperiod,however,thegalehadfreshenedintoahurricane, and our after—sail split into ribbons, bringing us somuch in the

troughofthewaterthatweshippedseveralprodigiousseas,oneimmediatelyaftertheother.Bythisaccidentwelostthreemenoverboardwiththecaboose,andnearlythewholeofthelarboardbulwarks.Scarcelyhadwerecoveredoursenses,beforetheforetopsailwentintoshreds,whenwegotupastormstay—sail and with this did pretty well for some hours, the ship heading the seamuchmoresteadilythanbefore.The gale still held on, however, andwe saw no signs of its abating. The

riggingwasfoundtobeill-fitted,andgreatlystrained;andonthethirddayofthe blow, about five in the afternoon, ourmizzen-mast, in a heavy lurch towindward,wentbytheboard.Foranhourormore,wetriedinvaintogetridof it, on account of the prodigious rolling of the ship; and, before we hadsucceeded, the carpenter came aft and announced four feet of water in thehold.Toaddtoourdilemma,wefoundthepumpschokedandnearlyuseless.Allwasnowconfusionanddespair—butaneffortwasmadetolightenthe

shipbythrowingoverboardasmuchofhercargoascouldbereached,andbycuttingawaythetwomaststhatremained.Thisweatlastaccomplished—butwewerestillunabletodoanythingat thepumps;and,inthemeantime,theleakgainedonusveryfast.At sundown, the gale had sensibly diminished in violence, and as the sea

wentdownwithit,westillentertainedfainthopesofsavingourselvesintheboats.At eight P.M., the clouds broke away towindward, andwe had theadvantageofafullmoon—apieceofgoodfortunewhichservedwonderfullytocheerourdroopingspirits.Afterincrediblelaborwesucceeded,atlength,ingettingthelongboatover

thesidewithoutmaterialaccident,andintothiswecrowdedthewholeofthecrewandmostofthepassengers.Thispartymadeoffimmediately,and,afterundergoingmuchsuffering,finallyarrived,insafety,atOcracokeInlet,onthethirddayafterthewreck.Fourteenpassengers,withthecaptain,remainedonboard,resolvingtotrust

their fortunes to the jolly-boat at the stern.We lowered itwithoutdifficulty,although itwasonlybyamiracle thatweprevented it fromswampingas ittouched the water. It contained, when afloat, the captain and his wife, Mr.Wyatt and party, aMexican officer, wife, four children, andmyself, with anegrovalet.Wehadnoroom,ofcourse,foranythingexceptafewpositivelynecessary

instruments, some provisions, and the clothes upon our backs. No one hadthoughtofevenattemptingtosaveanythingmore.Whatmusthavebeentheastonishmentofall,then,whenhavingproceededafewfathomsfromtheship,Mr.Wyattstoodupinthestern-sheets,andcoollydemandedofCaptainHardythattheboatshouldbeputbackforthepurposeoftakinginhisoblongbox!"Sit down, Mr. Wyatt," replied the captain, somewhat sternly, "you will

capsize us if you do not sit quite still.Our gunwhale is almost in thewaternow.""Thebox!"vociferatedMr.Wyatt, still standing—"thebox, I say!Captain

Hardy,youcannot,youwillnotrefuseme.Itsweightwillbebutatrifle—itisnothing—merenothing.Bythemotherwhoboreyou—fortheloveofHeaven—byyourhopeofsalvation,Iimploreyoutoputbackforthebox!"The captain, for a moment, seemed touched by the earnest appeal of the

artist,butheregainedhissterncomposure,andmerelysaid:"Mr.Wyatt,youaremad.Icannotlistentoyou.Sitdown,Isay,oryouwill

swamp the boat. Stay—hold him—seize him!—he is about to springoverboard!There—Iknewit—heisover!"Asthecaptainsaidthis,Mr.Wyatt,infact,sprangfromtheboat,and,aswe

wereyetintheleeofthewreck,succeeded,byalmostsuperhumanexertion,ingettingholdofaropewhichhungfromthefore-chains.Inanothermomenthewasonboard,andrushingfranticallydownintothecabin.Inthemeantime,wehadbeensweptasternoftheship,andbeingquiteout

ofher lee,wereat themercyof the tremendousseawhichwasstill running.Wemadeadeterminedefforttoputback,butourlittleboatwaslikeafeatherin the breath of the tempest. We saw at a glance that the doom of theunfortunateartistwassealed.Asourdistancefromthewreckrapidlyincreased,themadman(forassuch

onlycouldweregardhim)wasseentoemergefromthecompanion—way,upwhich by dint of strength that appeared gigantic, he dragged, bodily, theoblong box. While we gazed in the extremity of astonishment, he passed,rapidly,severalturnsofathree-inchrope,firstaroundtheboxandthenaroundhisbody.Inanotherinstantbothbodyandboxwereinthesea—disappearingsuddenly,atonceandforever.Welingeredawhilesadlyuponouroars,withoureyesriveteduponthespot.

Atlengthwepulledaway.Thesilenceremainedunbrokenforanhour.Finally,Ihazardedaremark."Did you observe, captain, how suddenly they sank? Was not that an

exceedingly singular thing? I confess that I entertained some feeblehopeofhis final deliverance, when I saw him lash himself to the box, and commithimselftothesea.""Theysankasamatterofcourse,"repliedthecaptain,"andthatlikeashot.

Theywillsoonriseagain,however—butnottillthesaltmelts.""Thesalt!"Iejaculated."Hush!" said the captain, pointing to thewife and sisters of the deceased.

"Wemusttalkofthesethingsatsomemoreappropriatetime."Wesufferedmuch,andmadeanarrowescape,butfortunebefriendedus,as

wellasourmatesinthelong-boat.Welanded,infine,moredeadthanalive,after four days of intense distress, upon the beachoppositeRoanoke Island.Weremainedhereaweek,werenotill-treatedbythewreckers,andatlengthobtainedapassagetoNewYork.About a month after the loss of the "Independence," I happened to meet

Captain Hardy in Broadway. Our conversation turned, naturally, upon thedisaster, and especially upon the sad fate of poorWyatt. I thus learned thefollowingparticulars.Theartisthadengagedpassageforhimself,wife,twosistersandaservant.

Hiswifewas, indeed, as she hadbeen represented, amost lovely, andmostaccomplishedwoman.On themorningof the fourteenthof June (theday inwhichIfirstvisitedtheship),theladysuddenlysickenedanddied.Theyounghusbandwas franticwith grief—but circumstances imperatively forbade thedeferringhisvoyagetoNewYork.Itwasnecessarytotaketohermotherthecorpse of his adored wife, and, on the other hand, the universal prejudicewhichwouldpreventhisdoingsoopenlywaswellknown.Nine-tenthsofthepassengers would have abandoned the ship rather than take passage with adeadbody.Inthisdilemma,CaptainHardyarrangedthatthecorpse,beingfirstpartially

embalmed, and packed, with a large quantity of salt, in a box of suitabledimensions,shouldbeconveyedonboardasmerchandise.Nothingwastobesaidofthelady'sdecease;and,asitwaswellunderstoodthatMr.Wyatthadengaged passage for hiswife, it became necessary that some person shouldpersonate her during the voyage. This the deceased lady's-maid was easilyprevailed on to do. The extra state-room, originally engaged for this girlduring her mistress' life, was now merely retained. In this state-room thepseudo-wife,slept,ofcourse,everynight.Inthedaytimesheperformed,tothebest of her ability, the part of her mistress—whose person, it had beencarefullyascertained,wasunknowntoanyofthepassengersonboard.My own mistake arose, naturally enough, through too careless, too

inquisitive,andtooimpulsiveatemperament.Butoflate,itisararethingthatI sleep soundly at night.There is a countenancewhichhauntsme, turn as Iwill.Thereisanhystericallaughwhichwillforeverringwithinmyears.

LOSSOFBREATH

OBreathenot,etc.—Moore'sMelodies

THE MOST notorious ill-fortune must in the end yield to the untiringcourageofphilosophy—asthemoststubborncitytotheceaselessvigilanceofanenemy.Shalmanezer,aswehaveitinholywritings,laythreeyearsbefore

Samaria; yet it fell.Sardanapalus—seeDiodorus—maintainedhimself seveninNineveh;buttonopurpose.Troyexpiredatthecloseofthesecondlustrum;andAzoth,asAristaeusdeclaresuponhishonourasagentleman,openedatlasthergatestoPsammetichus,afterhavingbarredthemforthefifthpartofacentury...."Thou wretch!—thou vixen!—thou shrew!" said I to my wife on the

morningafterourwedding;"thouwitch!—thouhag!—thouwhippersnapper—thousinkofiniquity!—thoufiery-facedquintessenceofallthatisabominable!—thou—thou-" here standing upon tiptoe, seizing her by the throat, andplacingmymouthclosetoherear,Iwaspreparingtolaunchforthanewandmore decided epithet of opprobrium,which should not fail, if ejaculated, toconvince her of her insignificance, when to my extreme horror andastonishmentIdiscoveredthatIhadlostmybreath.The phrases "I am out of breath," "I have lostmy breath," etc., are often

enoughrepeatedincommonconversation;butithadneveroccurredtomethatthe terrible accident ofwhich I speak could bona fide and actually happen!Imagine—thatisifyouhaveafancifulturn—imagine,Isay,mywonder—myconsternation—mydespair!There isagoodgenius,however,whichhasneverentirelydesertedme.In

mymostungovernablemoodsIstill retainasenseofpropriety,et lechemindespassionsmeconduit—asLordEdouardinthe"Julie"saysitdidhim—alaphilosophieveritable.Although I could not at first precisely ascertain to what degree the

occurrencehadaffectedme, Ideterminedat all events toconceal thematterfrommywife,untilfurtherexperienceshoulddiscovertometheextentofthismy unheard of calamity. Alteringmy countenance, therefore, in a moment,from its bepuffed and distorted appearance, to an expression of arch andcoquettishbenignity,Igavemyladyapatontheonecheek,andakissontheother,andwithoutsayingonesyllable(Furies!Icouldnot),leftherastonishedatmydrollery,asIpirouettedoutoftheroominaPasdeZephyr.Beholdmethensafelyensconcedinmyprivateboudoir,afearfulinstanceof

theillconsequencesattendinguponirascibility—alive,withthequalificationsofthedead—dead,withthepropensitiesoftheliving—ananomalyonthefaceoftheearth—beingverycalm,yetbreathless.Yes!breathless.Iamseriousinassertingthatmybreathwasentirelygone.I

couldnothavestirredwithitafeatherifmylifehadbeenatissue,orsulliedeven thedelicacyof amirror.Hard fate!—yet therewas somealleviation tothe first overwhelmingparoxysmofmy sorrow. I found,upon trial, that thepowersofutterancewhich,uponmyinability toproceed in theconversationwith my wife, I then concluded to be totally destroyed, were in fact onlypartially impeded, and I discovered that had I, at that interesting crisis,

droppedmyvoicetoasingularlydeepguttural,Imightstillhavecontinuedtoher the communication of my sentiments; this pitch of voice (the guttural)depending, I find, not upon the current of the breath, but upon a certainspasmodicactionofthemusclesofthethroat.Throwing myself upon a chair, I remained for some time absorbed in

meditation.Myreflections,besure,wereofnoconsolatorykind.Athousandvague and lachrymatory fancies took possession of my soul—and even theidea of suicide flitted across my brain; but it is a trait in the perversity ofhuman nature to reject the obvious and the ready, for the far-distant andequivocal.Thus I shudderedat self-murderas themostdecidedofatrocitieswhile the tabbycatpurredstrenuouslyupon therug,and theverywaterdogwheezedassiduouslyunderthetable,eachtakingtoitselfmuchmeritforthestrengthofitslungs,andallobviouslydoneinderisionofmyownpulmonaryincapacity.Oppressed with a tumult of vague hopes and fears, I at length heard the

footsteps of my wife descending the staircase. Being now assured of herabsence,Ireturnedwithapalpitatinghearttothesceneofmydisaster.Carefullylockingthedoorontheinside,Icommencedavigoroussearch.It

waspossible,Ithought,that,concealedinsomeobscurecorner,orlurkinginsomeclosetordrawer,mightbefoundthelostobjectofmyinquiry.Itmighthaveavapory—itmightevenhaveatangibleform.Mostphilosophers,uponmany points of philosophy, are still very unphilosophical.WilliamGodwin,however,saysinhis"Mandeville,"that"invisiblethingsaretheonlyrealities,"and this, allwill allow, is a case inpoint. Iwouldhave the judicious readerpausebeforeaccusing suchasseverationsof anunduequantumof absurdity.Anaxagoras,itwillberemembered,maintainedthatsnowisblack,andthisIhavesincefoundtobethecase.Long and earnestly did I continue the investigation: but the contemptible

rewardofmyindustryandperseveranceprovedtobeonlyasetoffalseteeth,twopairofhips,aneye,andabundleofbillets-douxfromMr.Windenoughtomy wife. I might as well here observe that this confirmation of my lady'spartiality forMr.W.occasionedme littleuneasiness.ThatMrs.Lackobreathshould admire anything so dissimilar tomyselfwas a natural and necessaryevil.Iam,it iswellknown,ofarobustandcorpulentappearance,andatthesametimesomewhatdiminutive instature.Whatwonder, then, that the lath-like tenuity of my acquaintance, and his altitude, which has grown into aproverb, should have met with all due estimation in the eyes of Mrs.Lackobreath.Buttoreturn.Myexertions, as I havebefore said,proved fruitless.Closet after closet—

drawerafterdrawer—corneraftercorner—werescrutinizedtonopurpose.Atonetime,however,Ithoughtmyselfsureofmyprize,having,inrummagingadressing-case, accidentally demolished a bottle of Grandjean's Oil of

Archangels—which, as an agreeable perfume, I here take the liberty ofrecommending.With a heavyheart I returned tomyboudoir—there to ponder upon some

method of eluding my wife's penetration, until I could make arrangementspriortomyleavingthecountry,fortothisIhadalreadymadeupmymind.Inaforeignclimate,beingunknown,Imight,withsomeprobabilityofsuccess,endeavortoconcealmyunhappycalamity—acalamitycalculated,evenmorethan beggary, to estrange the affections of themultitude, and to drawdownuponthewretchthewell-meritedindignationofthevirtuousandthehappy.Iwasnotlonginhesitation.Beingnaturallyquick,Icommittedtomemorytheentire tragedyof "Metamora." Ihad thegood fortune to recollect that in theaccentuationofthisdrama,oratleastofsuchportionofitasisallottedtothehero, the tones of voice in which I found myself deficient were altogetherunnecessary, and the deep guttural was expected to reign monotonouslythroughout.I practised for some time by the borders of a well frequented marsh;—

herein,however,havingnoreferencetoasimilarproceedingofDemosthenes,but fromadesignpeculiarlyandconscientiouslymyown.Thusarmedatallpoints,IdeterminedtomakemywifebelievethatIwassuddenlysmittenwithapassionforthestage.Inthis,Isucceededtoamiracle;andtoeveryquestionor suggestion found myself at liberty to reply in my most frog-like andsepulchraltoneswithsomepassagefromthetragedy—anyportionofwhich,as I soon tookgreat pleasure inobserving,would apply equallywell to anyparticular subject. It is not to be supposed, however, that in the delivery ofsuchpassagesIwasfoundatalldeficientinthelookingasquint—theshowingmyteeth—theworkingmyknees—theshufflingmyfeet—orinanyofthoseunmentionablegraceswhicharenowjustlyconsideredthecharacteristicsofapopularperformer.Tobesuretheyspokeofconfiningmeinastrait-jacket—but,goodGod!theyneversuspectedmeofhavinglostmybreath.Having at length put my affairs in order, I took my seat very early one

morning in the mail stage for—, giving it to be understood, among myacquaintances, that business of the last importance required my immediatepersonalattendanceinthatcity.The coach was crammed to repletion; but in the uncertain twilight the

features ofmy companions couldnot bedistinguished.Withoutmaking anyeffectualresistance,Isufferedmyselftobeplacedbetweentwogentlemenofcolossaldimensions;whileathird,ofasizelarger,requestingpardonforthelibertyhewasabouttotake,threwhimselfuponmybodyatfull length,andfallingasleepinaninstant,drownedallmygutturalejaculationsforrelief,inasnore which would have put to blush the roarings of the bull of Phalaris.Happilythestateofmyrespiratoryfacultiesrenderedsuffocationanaccidententirelyoutofthequestion.

As,however,thedaybrokemoredistinctlyinourapproachtotheoutskirtsofthecity,mytormentor,arisingandadjustinghisshirt-collar,thankedmeinaveryfriendlymannerformycivility.SeeingthatIremainedmotionless(allmylimbsweredislocatedandmyheadtwistedononeside),hisapprehensionsbegantobeexcited;andarousingtherestofthepassengers,hecommunicated,inaverydecidedmanner,hisopinionthatadeadmanhadbeenpalmeduponthemduringthenightforalivingandresponsiblefellow-traveller;heregivingme a thump on the right eye, by way of demonstrating the truth of hissuggestion.Hereupon all, one after another (therewere nine in company), believed it

their duty to pull me by the ear. A young practising physician, too, havingapplied a pocket-mirror to my mouth, and found me without breath, theassertion ofmy persecutorwas pronounced a true bill; and thewhole partyexpressedadeterminationtoenduretamelynosuchimpositionsforthefuture,andtoproceednofartherwithanysuchcarcassesforthepresent.I was here, accordingly, thrown out at the sign of the "Crow" (by which

tavern the coach happened to be passing),withoutmeetingwith any fartheraccidentthanthebreakingofbothmyarms,underthelefthindwheelofthevehicle.Imustbesidesdothedriverthejusticetostatethathedidnotforgettothrowafterme the largest ofmy trunks,which, unfortunately fallingonmyhead,fracturedmyskullinamanneratonceinterestingandextraordinary.Thelandlordofthe"Crow,"whoisahospitableman,findingthatmytrunk

containedsufficienttoindemnifyhimforanylittletroublehemighttakeinmybehalf,sentforthwithforasurgeonofhisacquaintance,anddeliveredmetohiscarewithabillandreceiptfortendollars.The purchaser took me to his apartments and commenced operations

immediately. Having cut off my ears, however, he discovered signs ofanimation.Henowrangthebell,andsentforaneighboringapothecarywithwhomtoconsultintheemergency.Incaseofhissuspicionswithregardtomyexistenceprovingultimatelycorrect,he,inthemeantime,madeanincisioninmystomach,andremovedseveralofmyvisceraforprivatedissection.TheapothecaryhadanideathatIwasactuallydead.ThisideaIendeavored

to confute, kicking and plunging with all my might, and making the mostfurious contortions—for the operations of the surgeon had, in a measure,restoredmetothepossessionofmyfaculties.All,however,wasattributedtotheeffectsofanewgalvanicbattery,wherewiththeapothecary,whoisreallyaman of information, performed several curious experiments, inwhich, frommy personal share in their fulfillment, I could not help feeling deeplyinterested.Itwasacourseofmortificationtome,nevertheless,thatalthoughImadeseveralattemptsatconversation,mypowersofspeechweresoentirelyin abeyance, that I could not even openmymouth; much less, then, makereply to some ingenious but fanciful theories of which, under other

circumstances, my minute acquaintance with the Hippocratian pathologywouldhaveaffordedmeareadyconfutation.Notbeingabletoarriveataconclusion,thepractitionersremandedmefor

fartherexamination.Iwastakenupintoagarret;andthesurgeon'sladyhavingaccommodatedmewithdrawersandstockings, thesurgeonhimself fastenedmyhands,andtiedupmyjawswithapocket-handkerchief—thenbolted thedoorontheoutsideashehurriedtohisdinner,leavingmealonetosilenceandtomeditation.InowdiscoveredtomyextremedelightthatIcouldhavespokenhadnotmy

mouthbeentiedupwiththepocket-handkerchief.Consolingmyselfwiththisreflection, Iwasmentally repeating somepassagesof the "OmnipresenceoftheDeity,"asismycustombeforeresigningmyselftosleep,whentwocats,ofagreedyandvituperativeturn,enteringataholeinthewall,leapedupwithaflourishalaCatalani,andalightingoppositeoneanotheronmyvisage,betookthemselvestoindecorouscontentionforthepaltryconsiderationofmynose.But, as the lossofhis earsproved themeansofelevating to the throneof

Cyrus, theMagian orMige-Gush of Persia, and as the cutting off his nosegave Zopyrus possession of Babylon, so the loss of a few ounces of mycountenance proved the salvation of my body. Aroused by the pain, andburning with indignation, I burst, at a single effort, the fastenings and thebandage. Stalking across the room I cast a glance of contempt at thebelligerents, and throwing open the sash to their extreme horror anddisappointment,precipitatedmyself,verydexterously, from thewindow. thismomentpassingfromthecityjailtothescaffolderectedforhisexecutioninthesuburbs.Hisextremeinfirmityandlongcontinuedillhealthhadobtainedhim the privilege of remaining unmanacled; and habited in his gallowscostume—oneverysimilartomyown,—helayatfulllengthinthebottomofthehangman'scart(whichhappenedtobeunderthewindowsofthesurgeonatthemomentofmyprecipitation)withoutanyotherguardthanthedriver,whowasasleep,andtworecruitsofthesixthinfantry,whoweredrunk.As ill-luck would have it, I alit upon my feet within the vehicle.

immediately,heboltedoutbehind,andturningdownanalley,wasoutofsightin the twinkling of an eye. The recruits, aroused by the bustle, could notexactlycomprehendthemeritsofthetransaction.Seeing,however,aman,theprecisecounterpartofthefelon,standinguprightinthecartbeforetheireyes,theywereof(so theyexpressedthemselves,)and,havingcommunicated thisopinion to one another, they took each a dram, and then knockedme downwiththebutt-endsoftheirmuskets.Itwasnotlongerewearrivedattheplaceofdestination.Ofcoursenothing

could be said in my defence. Hanging was my inevitable fate. I resignedmyself theretowith a feeling half stupid, half acrimonious.Being little of acynic,Ihadallthesentimentsofadog.Thehangman,however,adjustedthe

nooseaboutmyneck.Thedropfell.I forbear to depict my sensations upon the gallows; although here,

undoubtedly,Icouldspeaktothepoint,anditisatopicuponwhichnothinghasbeenwellsaid.Infact,towriteuponsuchathemeitisnecessarytohavebeen hanged.Every author should confine himself tomatters of experience.ThusMarkAntonycomposedatreatiseupongettingdrunk.Imayjustmention,however,thatdieIdidnot.Mybodywas,butIhadno

breathtobe,suspended;andbutfortheknotundermyleftear(whichhadthefeelofamilitarystock) Idaresay that I shouldhaveexperiencedvery littleinconvenience.Asforthejerkgiventomyneckuponthefallingofthedrop,itmerelyprovedacorrectivetothetwistaffordedmebythefatgentlemaninthecoach.For good reasons, however, I didmy best to give the crowd theworth of

their trouble. My convulsions were said to be extraordinary. My spasms itwouldhavebeendifficult tobeat.Thepopulaceencored.Severalgentlemenswooned; and a multitude of ladies were carried home in hysterics. Pinxitavailed himself of the opportunity to retouch, from a sketch taken upon thespot,hisadmirablepaintingofthe"Marsyasflayedalive."WhenIhadaffordedsufficientamusement,itwasthoughtpropertoremove

mybodyfromthegallows;—thisthemoreespeciallyastherealculprithadinthemeantimebeenretakenandrecognized,afactwhichIwassounluckyasnottoknow.Muchsympathywas,ofcourse,exercisedinmybehalf,andasnoonemade

claimtomycorpse,itwasorderedthatIshouldbeinterredinapublicvault.Here,afterdueinterval,Iwasdeposited.Thesextondeparted,andIwasleft

alone.AlineofMarston's"Malcontent"—Death'sagoodfellowandkeepsopenhouse—struckmeatthatmomentasa

palpablelie.Iknockedoff,however,thelidofmycoffin,andsteppedout.Theplacewas

dreadfully dreary and damp, and I became troubled with ennui. Byway ofamusement, I felt my way among the numerous coffins ranged in orderaround.I lifted themdown,onebyone,andbreakingopentheir lids,busiedmyselfinspeculationsaboutthemortalitywithin."This," I soliloquized, tumbling over a carcass, puffy, bloated, and rotund

—"this has been, no doubt, in every sense of the word, an unhappy—anunfortunateman.Ithasbeenhisterriblelotnottowalkbuttowaddle—topassthroughlifenotlikeahumanbeing,butlikeanelephant—notlikeaman,butlikearhinoceros."His attempts at getting on have been mere abortions, and his

circumgyratory proceedings a palpable failure.Taking a step forward, it hasbeenhismisfortunetotaketwotowardtheright,andthreetowardtheleft.His

studieshavebeenconfinedtothepoetryofCrabbe.Hecanhavenoideaofthewonder of a pirouette. To him a pas de papillon has been an abstractconception.Hehasneverascendedthesummitofahill.Hehasneverviewedfromanysteeplethegloriesofametropolis.Heathasbeenhismortalenemy.Inthedog-dayshisdayshavebeenthedaysofadog.Therein,hehasdreamedof flames and suffocation—of mountains upon mountains—of Pelion uponOssa.Hewasshortofbreath—tosayallinaword,hewasshortofbreath.Hethoughtitextravaganttoplayuponwindinstruments.Hewastheinventorofself-moving fans, wind-sails, and ventilators. He patronized Du Pont thebellows-maker,andhediedmiserablyinattemptingtosmokeacigar.HiswasacaseinwhichIfeeladeepinterest—alotinwhichIsincerelysympathize."Buthere,"—saidI—"here"—andIdraggedspitefullyfromitsreceptaclea

gaunt,tallandpeculiar-lookingform,whoseremarkableappearancestruckmewithasenseofunwelcomefamiliarity—"hereisawretchentitledtonoearthlycommiseration."Thus saying, inorder toobtain amoredistinct viewofmysubject, I applied my thumb and forefinger to its nose, and causing it toassume a sitting position upon the ground, held it thus, at the length ofmyarm,whileIcontinuedmysoliloquy."Entitled," I repeated, "to no earthly commiseration. Who indeed would

thinkofcompassioningashadow?Besides,hashenothadhisfullshareoftheblessingsofmortality?Hewastheoriginatoroftallmonuments—shot-towers—lightning-rods—Lombardy poplars. His treatise upon "Shades andShadows"hasimmortalizedhim.Heeditedwithdistinguishedabilitythelastedition of "South on the Bones." He went early to college and studiedpneumatics.Hethencamehome,talkedeternally,andplayedupontheFrench-horn.Hepatronizedthebagpipes.CaptainBarclay,whowalkedagainstTime,wouldnotwalkagainsthim.WindhamandAllbreathwerehisfavoritewriters,—hisfavoriteartist,Phiz.Hediedgloriouslywhileinhalinggas—leviqueflatucorrupitur,likethefamapudicitaeinHieronymus.Hewasindubitablya"—"How can you?—how—can—you?"—interrupted the object of my

animadversions,gaspingforbreath,andtearingoff,withadesperateexertion,thebandagearounditsjaws—"howcanyou,Mr.Lackobreath,besoinfernallycruelastopinchmeinthatmannerbythenose?Didyounotseehowtheyhadfastenedupmymouth—andyoumust know—ifyouknowany thing—howvastasuperfluityofbreathIhavetodisposeof!Ifyoudonotknow,however,sitdownandyoushallsee.Inmysituationitisreallyagreatrelieftobeabletoopenonesmouth—tobeabletoexpatiate—tobeabletocommunicatewithapersonlikeyourself,whodonotthinkyourselfcalleduponateveryperiodto interrupt the threadofagentleman'sdiscourse. Interruptionsareannoyingand should undoubtedly be abolished—don't you think so?—no reply, I begyou,—onepersonisenoughtobespeakingatatime.—Ishallbedonebyandby,andthenyoumaybegin.—Howthedevilsir,didyougetintothisplace?—

notawordIbeseechyou—beenheresometimemyself—terribleaccident!—heard of it, I suppose?—awful calamity!—walking under your windows—some short while ago—about the time you were stage-struck—horribleoccurrence!—heard of "catching one's breath," eh?—hold your tongue I tellyou!—I caught somebody elses!—had always too much of my own—metBlab at the corner of the street—wouldn't give me a chance for a word—couldn'tgetinasyllableedgeways—attacked,consequently,withepilepsis—Blabmadehis escape—damnall fools!—they tookmeup fordead, andputmeinthisplace—prettydoingsallof them!—heardallyousaidaboutme—every word a lie—horrible!—wonderful—outrageous!—hideous!—incomprehensible!—etcetera—etcetera—etcetera—etcetera-"Itisimpossibletoconceivemyastonishmentatsounexpectedadiscourse,

or the joy with which I became gradually convinced that the breath sofortunatelycaughtbythegentleman(whomIsoonrecognizedasmyneighborWindenough)was, in fact, the identical expirationmislaid bymyself in theconversation with my wife. Time, place, and circumstances rendered it amatterbeyondquestion.IdidnotatleastduringthelongperiodinwhichtheinventorofLombardypoplarscontinuedtofavormewithhisexplanations.InthisrespectIwasactuatedbythathabitualprudencewhichhaseverbeen

mypredominatingtrait.Ireflectedthatmanydifficultiesmightstilllieinthepath ofmy preservationwhich only extreme exertion onmy partwould beable to surmount. Many persons, I considered, are prone to estimatecommoditiesintheirpossession—howevervaluelesstothethenproprietor—howevertroublesome,ordistressing—indirectratiowiththeadvantagestobederived by others from their attainment, or by themselves from theirabandonment.MightnotthisbethecasewithMr.Windenough?Indisplayinganxietyforthebreathofwhichhewasatpresentsowillingtogetrid,mightInot laymyselfopen to theexactionsofhisavarice?Thereare scoundrels inthis world, I remembered with a sigh, who will not scruple to take unfairopportunities with even a next door neighbor, and (this remark is fromEpictetus)itispreciselyatthattimewhenmenaremostanxioustothrowofftheburdenoftheirowncalamitiesthattheyfeeltheleastdesirousofrelievingtheminothers.Uponconsiderationssimilar to these,andstill retainingmygraspuponthe

noseofMr.W.,Iaccordinglythoughtpropertomodelmyreply."Monster!" I began in a tone of the deepest indignation—"monster and

double-winded idiot!—dost thou, whom for thine iniquities it has pleasedheaven to accursewith a two-fold respimtion—dost thou, I say, presume toaddressmeinthefamiliarlanguageofanoldacquaintance?—'Ilie,'forsooth!and'holdmytongue,'tobesure!—prettyconversationindeed,toagentlemanwithasinglebreath!—allthis,too,whenIhaveitinmypowertorelievethecalamityunderwhichthoudostsojustlysuffer—tocurtailthesuperfluitiesof

thineunhappyrespiration."Like Brutus, I paused for a reply—with which, like a tornado, Mr.

Windenough immediately overwhelmed me. Protestation followed uponprotestation,andapologyuponapology.Therewereno termswithwhichhewas unwilling to comply, and therewere none ofwhich I failed to take thefullestadvantage.Preliminaries being at length arranged,my acquaintance deliveredme the

respiration; forwhich (havingcarefullyexamined it) Igavehimafterwardareceipt.IamawarethatbymanyIshallbeheldtoblameforspeakinginamanner

socursory,ofatransactionsoimpalpable.ItwillbethoughtthatIshouldhaveenteredmoreminutely,intothedetailsofanoccurrencebywhich—andthisisverytrue—muchnewlightmightbethrownuponahighlyinterestingbranchofphysicalphilosophy.ToallthisIamsorrythatIcannotreply.AhintistheonlyanswerwhichI

ampermitted tomake.Therewerecircumstances—but I think itmuchsaferuponconsiderationtosayas littleaspossibleaboutanaffairsodelicate—sodelicate,Irepeat,andatthetimeinvolvingtheinterestsofathirdpartywhosesulphurousresentmentIhavenottheleastdesire,atthismoment,ofincurring.Wewere not long after this necessary arrangement in effecting an escape

from the dungeons of the sepulchre. The united strength of our resuscitatedvoiceswassoonsufficientlyapparent.Scissors,theWhigeditor,republishedatreatise upon "the nature and origin of subterranean noises." A reply—rejoinder—confutation—and justification—followed in the columns of aDemocraticGazette. It was not until the opening of the vault to decide thecontroversy,thattheappearanceofMr.Windenoughandmyselfprovedbothpartiestohavebeendecidedlyinthewrong.Icannotconcludethesedetailsofsomeverysingularpassagesinalifeatall

times sufficiently eventful, without again recalling to the attention of thereaderthemeritsofthatindiscriminatephilosophywhichisasureandreadyshieldagainstthoseshaftsofcalamitywhichcanneitherbeseen,feltnorfullyunderstood. It was in the spirit of this wisdom that, among the ancientHebrews,itwasbelievedthegatesofHeavenwouldbeinevitablyopenedtothat sinner, or saint, who, with good lungs and implicit confidence, shouldvociferatetheword"Amen!"Itwasinthespiritofthiswisdomthat,whenagreatplagueragedatAthens,andeverymeanshadbeeninvainattemptedforits removal, Epimenides, as Laertius relates, in his second book, of thatphilosopher,advisedtheerectionofashrineandtemple"totheproperGod."LYTTLETONBARRY.

THEMANTHATWASUSEDUP.

ATALEOFTHELATEBUGABOOANDKICKAPOOCAMPAIGN.

Pleurez,pleurez,mesyeux,etfondezvouseneau!

Lamoitié;demavieamisl'autreautombeau.

CORNEILLE.

ICANNOTjustnowrememberwhenorwhereIfirstmadetheacquaintanceof that truly fine-looking fellow, Brevet Brigadier General John A. B. C.Smith. Some one did introduce me to the gentleman, I am sure—at somepublicmeeting,Iknowverywell—heldaboutsomethingofgreatimportance,no doubt—at some place or other, I feel convinced,—whose name I haveunaccountably forgotten. The truth is—that the introduction was attended,upon my part, with a degree of anxious embarrassment which operated topreventanydefiniteimpressionsofeithertimeorplace.Iamconstitutionallynervous—this,withme,isafamilyfailing,andIcan'thelpit.Inespecial,theslightestappearanceofmystery—ofanypointIcannotexactlycomprehend—putsmeatonceintoapitiablestateofagitation.There was something, as it were, remarkable—yes, remarkable, although

this is but a feeble term to express my full meaning—about the entireindividualityofthepersonageinquestion.Hewas,perhaps,sixfeetinheight,and of a presence singularly commanding. There was an airdistinguépervadingthewholeman,whichspokeofhighbreeding,andhintedat high birth. Upon this topic—the topic of Smith's personal appearance—Ihaveakindofmelancholysatisfactioninbeingminute.Hisheadofhairwouldhave done honor to a Brutus;—nothing could be more richly flowing, orpossessabrightergloss.Itwasofajettyblack;—whichwasalsothecolor,ormore properly the no color of his unimaginable whiskers. You perceive Icannotspeakoftheselatterwithoutenthusiasm;itisnottoomuchtosaythattheywerethehandsomestpairofwhiskersunderthesun.Atallevents, theyencircled, and at times partially overshadowed, a mouth utterly unequalled.Here were the most entirely even, and the most brilliantly white of allconceivableteeth.Frombetweenthem,uponeveryproperoccasion,issuedavoiceofsurpassingclearness,melody,andstrength.Inthematterofeyes,also,myacquaintancewaspre-eminentlyendowed.Eitheroneof suchapairwasworth a couple of the ordinary ocular organs. They were of a deep hazel,exceedinglylargeandlustrous;andtherewasperceptibleaboutthem,everandanon, just that amount of interesting obliquity which gives pregnancy to

expression.Thebustof theGeneralwasunquestionablythefinestbustIeversaw.For

yourlifeyoucouldnothavefoundafaultwithitswonderfulproportion.Thisrare peculiarity set off to great advantage a pair of shoulders which wouldhave called up a blush of conscious inferiority into the countenance of themarbleApollo.Ihaveapassionforfineshoulders,andmaysaythatIneverbeheld them in perfection before. The arms altogether were admirablymodelled.Norwere the lower limbs less superb.Thesewere, indeed, theneplusultraofgoodlegs.Everyconnoisseurinsuchmattersadmittedthelegstobegood.Therewasneither toomuch flesh,nor too little,—neither rudenessnor fragility. I could not imagine amore graceful curve than that of the osfemoris, and there was just that due gentle prominence in the rear ofthe fibulawhichgoes to the conformationof a properlyproportioned calf. Iwish toGodmyyoung and talented friendChiponchipino, the sculptor, hadbutseenthelegsofBrevetBrigadierGeneralJohnA.B.C.Smith.Butalthoughmensoabsolutelyfine-lookingareneitherasplentyasreasons

or blackberries, still I could not bring myself to believe that theremarkablesomethingtowhichIalludedjustnow,—thattheoddairofjenesaisquoiwhichhungaboutmynewacquaintance,—layaltogether,orindeedatall, in thesupremeexcellenceofhisbodilyendowments.Perhapsitmightbe traced to themanner;—yethere again I couldnot pretend tobepositive.There was a primness, not to say stiffness, in his carriage—a degree ofmeasured,and, if Imaysoexpress it,of rectangularprecision,attendinghiseverymovement,which, observed in amore diminutive figure,would havehadtheleastlittlesavorintheworld,ofaffectation,pomposityorconstraint,butwhichnoticed in a gentlemanof his undoubteddimensions,was readilyplacedtotheaccountofreserve,hauteur—ofacommendablesense,inshort,ofwhatisduetothedignityofcolossalproportion.Thekind friendwhopresentedme toGeneral Smithwhispered inmy ear

some few words of comment upon the man. He was a remarkableman—averyremarkableman—indeedoneofthemostremarkablemenoftheage.Hewasanespecialfavorite,too,withtheladies—chieflyonaccountofhishighreputationforcourage."Inthatpointheisunrivalled—indeedheisaperfectdesperado—adown-

right fire-eater, and no mistake," said my friend, here dropping his voiceexcessivelylow,andthrillingmewiththemysteryofhistone."Adownrightfire-eater,andnomistake.Showedthat,Ishouldsay,tosome

purpose, in the late tremendous swamp-fight away down South, with theBugaboo andKickapoo Indians." [Heremy friend opened his eyes to someextent.]"Blessmysoul!—bloodandthunder,andallthat!—prodigiesofvalor!—heardofhimofcourse?—youknowhe'stheman"—

"Manalive,howdoyoudo?why,howareye?verygladtoseeye,indeed!"hereinterruptedtheGeneralhimself,seizingmycompanionbythehandashedrew near, and bowing stiffly, but profoundly, as I was presented. I thenthought,(andIthinksostill,)thatIneverheardaclearernorastrongervoice,nor beheld a finer set of teeth: but I must say that I was sorry for theinterruption just at thatmoment, as, owing to thewhispers and insinuationsaforesaid,myinteresthadbeengreatlyexcitedintheherooftheBugabooandKickapoocampaign.However, the delightfully luminous conversation of Brevet Brigadier

General John A. B. C. Smith soon completely dissipated this chagrin. Myfriendleavingusimmediately,wehadquitealong tête-à-tête,andIwasnotonly pleased but really—instructed. I never heard amore fluent talker, or aman of greater general information. With becoming modesty, he forebore,nevertheless, to touchupon the themeIhad just thenmostatheart—Imeanthemysterious circumstances attending theBugaboowar—and, onmy ownpart,whatIconceivetobeapropersenseofdelicacyforbademetobroachthesubject; although, in truth, Iwas exceedingly tempted to do so. I perceived,too,thatthegallantsoldierpreferredtopicsofphilosophicalinterest,andthathedelighted,especially, incommentingupon the rapidmarchofmechanicalinvention. Indeed, lead him where I would, this was a point to which heinvariablycameback."Thereisnothingatalllikeit,"hewouldsay;"weareawonderfulpeople,

andliveinawonderfulage.Parachutesandrail-roads—man-trapsandspring-guns!Oursteam-boatsareuponeverysea,and theNassauballoonpacket isabout to run regular trips (fare either way only twenty pounds sterling)between London and Timbuctoo. And who shall calculate the immenseinfluence upon social life—upon arts—upon commerce—upon literature—whichwillbetheimmediateresultofthegreatprinciplesofelectromagnetics!Nor, is this all, let me assure you! There is really no end to the march ofinvention.Themostwonderful—themost ingenious—andletmeadd,Mr.—Mr.—Thompson,Ibelieve,isyourname—letmeadd,Isay,themostuseful—the most truly useful mechanical contrivances, are daily springing up likemushrooms, if I may so express myself, or, more figuratively, like—ah—grasshoppers—like grasshoppers,Mr.Thompson—about us and ah—ah—ah—aroundus!"Thompson, tobe sure, isnotmyname;but it isneedless to say that I left

GeneralSmithwithaheightenedinterestintheman,withanexaltedopinionofhisconversationalpowers,andadeepsenseof thevaluableprivilegesweenjoyinlivinginthisageofmechanicalinvention.Mycuriosity,however,hadnot been altogether satisfied, and I resolved to prosecute immediate inquiryamongmyacquaintancestouchingtheBrevetBrigadierGeneralhimself,andparticularlyrespectingthetremendouseventsquorumparsmagnafuit,during

theBugabooandKickapoocampaign.Thefirstopportunitywhichpresenteditself,andwhich(horrescoreferens)I

didnot in the least scruple toseize,occurredat theChurchof theReverendDoctorDrummummupp,whereIfoundmyselfestablished,oneSunday,justatsermon time, not only in the pew, but by the side, of that worthy andcommunicative little friend of mine, Miss Tabitha T. Thus seated, Icongratulatedmyself,andwithmuchreason,upontheveryflatteringstateofaffairs.IfanypersonknewanythingaboutBrevetBrigadierGeneralJohnA.B. C. Smith, that person, it was clear to me, was Miss Tabitha T. Wetelegraphedafewsignals,andthencommenced,sotovoce,abrisktête-à-tête."Smith!" said she, in reply tomyvery earnest inquiry; "Smith!—why,not

GeneralJohnA.B.C.?Blessme,Ithoughtyouknewallabouthim!Thisisawonderfullyinventiveage!Horridaffairthat!—abloodysetofwretches,thoseKickapoos!—fought like a hero—prodigies of valor—immortal renown.Smith!—Brevet Brigadier General John A. B. C.! why, you know he's theman"—"Man,"herebroke inDoctorDrummummupp,at the topofhisvoice, and

withathumpthatcamenearknockingthepulpitaboutourears;"manthatisbornofawomanhathbutashorttimetolive;hecomethupandiscutdownlike a flower!" I started to the extremity of the pew, and perceived by theanimatedlooksofthedivine,thatthewrathwhichhadnearlyprovedfataltothepulpithadbeenexcitedbythewhispersoftheladyandmyself.Therewasno help for it; so I submitted with a good grace, and listened, in all themartyrdomofdignifiedsilence,tothebalanceofthatverycapitaldiscourse.Next evening found me a somewhat late visitor at the Rantipole theatre,

whereIfeltsureofsatisfyingmycuriosityatonce,bymerelysteppingintothebox of those exquisite specimens of affability and omniscience, theMissesArabella andMiranda Cognoscenti. That fine tragedian, Climax, was doingIago to a very crowded house, and I experienced some little difficulty inmakingmywishesunderstood;especially,asourboxwasnexttheslips,andcompletelyoverlookedthestage."Smith?"saidMissArabella,assheatlengthcomprehendedthepurportof

myquery;"Smith?—why,notGeneralJohnA.B.C.?""Smith?"inquiredMiranda,musingly."Godblessme,didyoueverbeholda

finerfigure?""Never,madam,butdotellme"—"Orsoinimitablegrace?""Never,uponmyword!—Butprayinformme"—"Orsojustanappreciationofstageeffect?""Madam!"

"OramoredelicatesenseofthetruebeautiesofShakespeare?Besogoodastolookatthatleg!""Thedevil!"andIturnedagaintohersister."Smith?" said she, "why, not General John A. B. C.? Horrid affair that,

wasn't it?—greatwretches, thoseBugaboos—savageandsoon—butwe livein a wonderfully inventive age!—Smith!—O yes! great man!—perfectdesperado—immortal renown—prodigies of valor!Never heard!" [This wasgiveninascream.]"Blessmysoul!why,he'stheman"—

"——-mandragora

Norallthedrowsysyrupsoftheworld

Shallevermedicinetheetothatsweetsleep

Whichthouowd'styesterday!"

hereroaredourClimaxjustinmyear,andshakinghisfistinmyfaceallthetime, in a way that I couldn't stand, and I wouldn't. I left the MissesCognoscenti immediately, went behind the scenes forthwith, and gave thebeggarlyscoundrelsuchathrashingasItrusthewillremembertothedayofhisdeath.Atthesoiréeofthelovelywidow,Mrs.KathleenO'Trump,Iwasconfident

that I should meet with no similar disappointment. Accordingly, I was nosooner seatedat thecard-table,withmyprettyhostess foravis-à-vis, thanIpropounded those questions the solution of which had become a matter soessentialtomypeace."Smith?" saidmypartner, "why, notGeneral JohnA.B.C.?Horrid affair

that,wasn'tit?—diamonds,didyousay?—terriblewretchesthoseKickapoos!—weareplayingwhist,ifyouplease,Mr.Tattle—however,thisistheageofinvention, most certainly the age, one may say—the age par excellence—speakFrench?—oh,quiteahero—perfectdesperado!—nohearts,Mr.Tattle?Idon't believe it!—immortal renown and all that!—prodigies of valor!Neverheard!!—why,blessme,he'stheman"—"Mann?—Captain Mann?" here screamed some little feminine interloper

from the farthest corner of the room. "Are you talking aboutCaptainMannandtheduel?—oh,Imusthear—dotell—goon,Mrs.O'Trump!—donowgoon!"And go onMrs.O'Trumpdid—all about a certainCaptainMann,whowaseithershotorhung,orshouldhavebeenbothshotandhung.Yes!Mrs.O'Trump, shewent on, and I—Iwent off. Therewas no chance of hearinganythingfartherthateveninginregardtoBrevetBrigadierGeneralJohnA.B.C.Smith.StillIconsoledmyselfwiththereflectionthatthetideofillluckwouldnot

runagainstmeforever,andsodeterminedtomakeaboldpushforinformationattheroutofthatbewitchinglittleangel,thegracefulMrs.Pirouette."Smith?" said Mrs. P., as we twirled about together in a pas de zephyr,

"Smith?—why, not General John A. B. C.? Dreadful business that of theBugaboos, wasn't it?—dreadful creatures, those Indians!—do turn out your

toes! I reallyamashamedofyou—manofgreat courage,poor fellow!—butthisisawonderfulageforinvention—Odearme,I'moutofbreath—quiteadesperado—prodigiesofvalor—neverheard!!—can'tbelieve it—Ishallhavetositdownandenlightenyou—Smith!why,he'stheman"—"Man-Fred, I tell you!" here bawled out Miss Bas-Bleu, as I led Mrs.

Pirouettetoaseat."Dideveranybodyhearthelike?It'sMan-Fred,Isay,andnotatallbyanymeansMan-Friday."HereMissBas-Bleubeckonedtomeinaveryperemptorymanner;andIwasobliged,willInillI,toleaveMrs.P.forthepurposeofdecidingadisputetouchingthetitleofacertainpoeticaldramaofLordByron's.AlthoughIpronounced,withgreatpromptness,thatthetruetitlewasMan-Friday,andnotbyanymeansMan-Fred,yetwhenIreturnedtoseekMrs.Pirouetteshewasnottobediscovered,andImademyrêtreatfromthehouseinaverybitterspiritofanimosityagainstthewholeraceoftheBas-Bleus.Mattershadnowassumeda really seriousaspect, and I resolved tocall at

onceuponmyparticularfriend,Mr.TheodoreSinivate;forIknewthathereatleastIshouldgetsomethinglikedefiniteinformation."Smith?" said he, in his well-known peculiar way of drawling out his

syllables;"Smith?—why,notGeneralJohnA.B.C.?Savageaffair thatwiththeKickapo-o-o-os,wasn'tit?Say!don'tyouthinkso?—perfectdespera-a-ado—great pity, 'ponmyhonor!—wonderfully inventive age!—pro-o-odigies ofvalor!Bytheby,didyoueverhearaboutCaptainMa-a-a-a-n?""CaptainMannbed—d!"saidI;"pleasetogoonwithyourstory.""Hem!—ohwell!—quite lamême cho-o-ose, aswe say in France. Smith,

eh?Brigadier-GeneralJohnA.B.C.?Isay"—[hereMr.S.thoughtpropertoputhisfingertothesideofhisnose]—"Isay,youdon'tmeantoinsinuatenow,reallyandtruly,andconscientiously,thatyoudon'tknowallaboutthataffairofSmith's,aswellasIdo,eh?Smith?JohnA-B-C.?Why,blessme,he'sthema-a-an"—"Mr.Sinivate,"saidI,imploringly,"ishethemaninthemask?""No-o-o!"saidhe,lookingwise,"northemaninthemo-o-on."ThisreplyIconsideredapointedandpositiveinsult,andsoleftthehouseat

onceinhighdudgeon,withafirmresolvetocallmyfriend,Mr.Sinivate,toaspeedyaccountforhisungentlemanlyconductandill-breeding.In themeantime,however, Ihadnonotionofbeing thwarted touching the

informationIdesired.Therewasoneresourceleftmeyet. Iwouldgoto thefountain-head.IwouldcallforthwithupontheGeneralhimself,anddemand,inexplicitterms,asolutionofthisabominablepieceofmystery.Here,atleast,there should be no chance for equivocation. I would be plain, positive,peremptory—asshortaspie-crust—asconciseasTacitusorMontesquieu.It was early when I called, and the General was dressing; but I pleaded

urgent business, andwas shown at once into his bed-room by an old negrovalet,whoremainedinattendanceduringmyvisit.AsIenteredthechamber,Ilooked about, of course, for the occupant, but did not immediately perceivehim. There was a large and exceedingly odd-looking bundle of somethingwhichlayclosebymyfeetonthefloor,and,asIwasnotinthebesthumorintheworld,Igaveitakickoutoftheway."Hem!ahem!rathercivilthat,Ishouldsay!"saidthebundle,inoneofthe

smallest, and altogether the funniest little voices, between a squeak and awhistle,thatIeverheardinallthedaysofmyexistence."Ahem!rathercivilthat,Ishouldobserve."I fairly shouted with terror, and made off, at a tangent, into the farthest

extremityoftheroom."Godblessme!mydear fellow," here againwhistled the bundle, "what—

what—what—why,whatisthematter?Ireallybelieveyoudon'tknowmeatall."Whatcould I say to all this—whatcould I? I staggered into an arm-chair,

and,withstaringeyesandopenmouth,awaitedthesolutionofthewonder."Strangeyoushouldn'tknowmethough,isn'tit?"presentlyre-squeakedthe

nondescript, which I now perceived was performing, upon the floor, someinexplicableevolution,veryanalogoustothedrawingonofastocking.Therewasonlyasingleleg,however,apparent."Strange you shouldn't knowme, though, isn't it? Pompey, bringme that

leg!"HerePompeyhandedthebundle,averycapitalcorkleg,alreadydressed,whichitscrewedoninatrice;andthenitstoodupbeforemyeyes."Andabloodyactionitwas,"continuedthething,asifinasoliloquy;"but

thenonemustn'tfightwiththeBugaboosandKickapoos,andthinkofcomingoffwith amere scratch. Pompey, I'll thank you now for that arm.Thomas"[turningtome]"isdecidedlythebesthandatacorkleg;butifyoushouldeverwant an arm, my dear fellow, you must really let me recommend you toBishop."HerePompeyscrewedonanarm."Wehadratherhotworkofit,thatyoumaysay.Now,youdog,sliponmy

shoulders andbosom!Pettittmakes thebest shoulders,but for abosomyouwillhavetogotoDucrow.""Bosom!"saidI."Pompey,willyouneverbereadywiththatwig?Scalpingisaroughprocess

afterall;butthenyoucanprocuresuchacapitalscratchatDeL'Orme's.""Scratch!""Now,younigger,my teeth!For agood set of theseyouhadbetter go to

Parmly's at once; high prices, but excellent work. I swallowed some verycapitalarticles,though,whenthebigBugaboorammedmedownwiththebutt

endofhisrifle.""Buttend!ramdown!!myeye!!""Oyes,by-the-by,myeye—here,Pompey,youscamp,screwit in!Those

Kickapoos are not so very slow at a gouge; but he's a beliedman, thatDr.Williams, after all; you can't imagine how well I see with the eyes of hismake."Inowbeganveryclearlytoperceivethattheobjectbeforemewasnothing

morenorlessthanmynewacquaintance,BrevetBrigadierGeneralJohnA.B.C. Smith. The manipulations of Pompey had made, I must confess, a verystrikingdifferenceintheappearanceofthepersonalman.Thevoice,however,stillpuzzledmenolittle;buteventhisapparentmysterywasspeedilyclearedup."Pompey,youblackrascal,"squeakedtheGeneral,"Ireallydobelieveyou

wouldletmegooutwithoutmypalate."Hereupon, the negro, grumbling out an apology, went up to his master,

openedhismouthwiththeknowingairofahorse-jockey,andadjustedthereina somewhat singular-looking machine, in a very dexterous manner, that Icould not altogether comprehend. The alteration, however, in the entireexpression of the General's countenance was instantaneous and surprising.Whenheagainspoke,hisvoicehadresumedallthatrichmelodyandstrengthwhichIhadnoticeduponouroriginalintroduction."D—nthevagabonds!"saidhe,insoclearatonethatIpositivelystartedat

the change, "D—n the vagabonds! theynot only knocked in the roof ofmymouth, but took the trouble to cut off at least seven-eighths of my tongue.There isn'tBonfanti'sequal,however, inAmerica, for reallygoodarticlesofthis description. I can recommend you to him with confidence," [here theGeneralbowed,]"andassureyouthatIhavethegreatestpleasureinsodoing."Iacknowledgedhiskindness inmybestmanner, and took leaveofhimat

once, with a perfect understanding of the true state of affairs—with a fullcomprehensionofthemysterywhichhadtroubledmesolong.Itwasevident.Itwasaclearcase.BrevetBrigadierGeneralJohnA.B.C.Smithwastheman—wasthemanthatwasusedup.

THEBUSINESSMAN

Methodisthesoulofbusiness.—OLDSAYING.

IAMabusinessman.Iamamethodicalman.Methodisthething,afterall.ButtherearenopeopleImoreheartilydespisethanyoureccentricfoolswhoprateaboutmethodwithoutunderstandingit;attendingstrictlytoitsletter,andviolating its spirit. These fellows are always doing themost out-of-the-way

thingsinwhattheycallanorderlymanner.Nowhere,Iconceive,isapositiveparadox.Truemethodappertains to theordinaryand theobvious alone, andcannotbeapplied to theoutre.Whatdefinite ideacanabodyattach tosuchexpressions as "methodical Jack o' Dandy," or "a systematical Will o' theWisp"?Mynotionsuponthisheadmightnothavebeensoclearastheyare,butfora

fortunateaccidentwhichhappenedtomewhenIwasaverylittleboy.Agood-heartedold Irishnurse (whomIshallnot forget inmywill) tookmeuponeday by the heels, when I was making more noise than was necessary, andswingingme round two or knockedmy head into a cocked hat against thebedpost.This,Isay,decidedmyfate,andmademyfortune.Abumparoseatonceonmysinciput,andturnedouttobeasprettyanorganoforderasoneshall see on a summer's day. Hence that positive appetite for system andregularitywhichhasmademethedistinguishedmanofbusinessthatIam.IfthereisanythingonearthIhate,itisagenius.Yourgeniusesareallarrant

asses—thegreaterthegeniusthegreatertheass—andtothisrulethereisnoexceptionwhatever.Especially,youcannotmakeamanofbusinessoutofagenius,anymore thanmoneyoutofaJew,or thebestnutmegsoutofpine-knots. The creatures are always going off at a tangent into some fantasticemployment,orridiculousspeculation,entirelyatvariancewiththe"fitnessofthings,"andhavingnobusinesswhatevertobeconsideredasabusinessatall.Thus you may tell these characters immediately by the nature of theiroccupations. If you ever perceive a man setting up as a merchant or amanufacturer, or going into the cotton or tobacco trade, or any of thoseeccentric pursuits; or getting to be a drygoods dealer, or soap-boiler, orsomething of that kind; or pretending to be a lawyer, or a blacksmith, or aphysician—anythingoutoftheusualway—youmaysethimdownatonceasagenius,andthen,accordingtotherule-of-three,he'sanass.NowIamnotinanyrespectagenius,butaregularbusinessman.MyDay-

bookandLedgerwillevincethisinaminute.Theyarewellkept,thoughIsayitmyself;and,inmygeneralhabitsofaccuracyandpunctuality,Iamnottobebeatbyaclock.Moreover,myoccupationshavebeenalwaysmadetochimein with the ordinary habitudes of my fellowmen. Not that I feel the leastindebted, upon this score, to my exceedingly weak-minded parents, who,beyonddoubt,wouldhavemadeanarrantgeniusofmeatlast,ifmyguardianangelhadnotcome,ingoodtime,totherescue.Inbiographythetruthiseverything, and in autobiography it is especially so—yet I scarcely hope to bebelievedwhenIstate,howeversolemnly,thatmypoorfatherputme,whenIwasaboutfifteenyearsofage,intothecounting-houseofwhatbetermed"arespectable hardware and commission merchant doing a capital bit ofbusiness!"Acapitalbitoffiddlestick!However,theconsequenceofthisfollywas, that in two or three days, I had to be sent home tomy button-headed

familyinahighstateoffever,andwithamostviolentanddangerouspaininthe sinciput, all around aboutmy organ of order. Itwas nearly a gone casewithmethen—justtouch-and-goforsixweeks—thephysiciansgivingmeupandallthatsortofthing.But,althoughIsufferedmuch,Iwasathankfulboyinthemain.Iwassavedfrombeinga"respectablehardwareandcommissionmerchant, doing a capital bit of business," and I felt grateful to theprotuberance which had been the means of my salvation, as well as to thekindheartedfemalewhohadoriginallyputthesemeanswithinmyreach.Themostofboysrunawayfromhomeattenortwelveyearsofage,butI

waitedtillIwassixteen.Idon'tknowthatIshouldhavegoneeventhen,ifIhadnothappenedtohearmyoldmothertalkaboutsettingmeuponmyownhookinthegroceryway.Thegroceryway!—onlythinkofthat!Iresolvedtobe off forthwith, and try and establish myself in some decent occupation,withoutdancingattendanceanylongeruponthecapricesoftheseeccentricoldpeople, and running the risk of being made a genius of in the end. In thisproject I succeeded perfectly well at the first effort, and by the time I wasfairlyeighteen,foundmyselfdoinganextensiveandprofitablebusinessintheTailor'sWalking-Advertisementline.Iwasenabledtodischargetheonerousdutiesofthisprofession,onlybythat

rigid adherence to systemwhich formed the leading feature ofmymind.Ascrupulousmethod characterizedmy actions aswell asmy accounts. Inmycaseitwasmethod—notmoney—whichmadetheman:atleastallofhimthatwasnotmadeby the tailorwhomI served.Atnine,everymorning, Icalleduponthatindividualfortheclothesoftheday.Teno'clockfoundmeinsomefashionable promenade or other place of public amusement. The preciseregularity with which I turned my handsome person about, so as to bringsuccessively into view every portion of the suit upon my back, was theadmirationofalltheknowingmeninthetrade.Noonneverpassedwithoutmybringing home a customer to the house of my employers, Messrs. Cut &Comeagain.Isaythisproudly,butwithtearsinmyeyes—forthefirmprovedthemselvesthebasestofingrates.Thelittleaccount,aboutwhichwequarreledandfinallyparted,cannot,inanyitem,bethoughtovercharged,bygentlemenreallyconversantwiththenatureofthebusiness.Uponthispoint,however,Ifeel a degree of proud satisfaction in permitting the reader to judge forhimself.Mybillranthus:

Messrs.Cut&Comeagain,MerchantTailors.

ToPeterProffit,WalkingAdvertiser,Drs.

JULY10.—topromenade,asusualandcustomerbroughthome...$00

25

JULY11.—Todododo25

JULY12.—Toonelie,secondclass;damagedblackclothsoldfor

invisiblegreen...............................................25

JULY13.—Toonelie,firstclass,extraqualityandsize;

recommendedmilledsatinetasbroadcloth......................75

JULY20.—Topurchasingbrannewpapershirtcollarordickey,to

setoffgrayPetersham.....................................02

AUG.15.—Towearingdouble-paddedbobtailfrock,(thermometer106

intheshade).............................................25

AUG.16.—Standingononelegthreehours,toshowoffnew-style

strappedpantsat121/2centsperlegperhour.............371/2

AUG.17.—Topromenade,asusual,andlargecustomerbrought(fat

man).....................................................50

AUG.18.—Tododo(mediumsize).................25

AUG.19.—Tododo(smallmanandbadpay).......06

TOTAL[sic]$2951/2

Theitemchieflydisputed in thisbillwas theverymoderatechargeof twopenniesforthedickey.Uponmywordofhonor,thiswasnotanunreasonableprice for that dickey. Itwas one of the cleanest and prettiest little dickeys Ieversaw;andIhavegoodreason tobelieve that iteffected thesaleof threePetershams.Theelderpartnerofthefirm,however,wouldallowmeonlyonepennyofthecharge,andtookituponhimselftoshowinwhatmannerfourofthesamesizedconveniencescouldbegotoutofasheetoffoolscap.Butitisneedless to say that I stood upon the principle of the thing. Business isbusiness, and should be done in a business way. There was no systemwhateverinswindlingmeoutofapenny—aclearfraudoffiftypercent—nomethod in any respect. I left at once the employment of Messrs. Cut &Comeagain, and set up in the Eye-Sore line by myself—one of the mostlucrative,respectable,andindependentoftheordinaryoccupations.Mystrictintegrity,economy,andrigorousbusinesshabits,hereagaincame

into play. I found myself driving a flourishing trade, and soon became amarkedmanupon'Change.Thetruthis,Ineverdabbledinflashymatters,butjoggedon in thegoodold sober routineof thecalling—acalling inwhich Ishould,nodoubt,haveremained to thepresenthour,but fora littleaccidentwhich happened to me in the prosecution of one of the usual businessoperations of the profession.Whenever a rich old hunks or prodigal heir orbankrupt corporationgets into the notionof puttingup a palace, there is nosuch thing in theworldasstoppingeitherof them,and thisevery intelligentpersonknows.ThefactinquestionisindeedthebasisoftheEye-Soretrade.Assoon,therefore,asabuilding-projectisfairlyafootbyoneoftheseparties,wemerchantssecureanicecornerofthelotincontemplation,oraprimelittlesituationjustadjoining,ortightinfront.Thisdone,wewaituntilthepalaceishalf-wayup,andthenwepaysometastyarchitecttorunusupanornamentalmudhovel,rightagainstit;oraDown-EastorDutchPagoda,orapig-sty,oraningeniouslittlebitoffancywork,eitherEsquimau,Kickapoo,orHottentot.Ofcoursewecan'taffordtotakethesestructuresdownunderabonusoffivehundredpercentupontheprimecostofourlotandplaster.Canwe?Iaskthequestion. I ask it ofbusinessmen. Itwouldbe irrational to suppose thatwe

can.Andyettherewasarascallycorporationwhichaskedmetodothisverything—thisvery thing!Ididnotreply to theirabsurdproposition,ofcourse;but I felt it a duty togo that samenight, and lamp-black thewholeof theirpalace. For this the unreasonable villains clapped me into jail; and thegentlemenof theEye-SoretradecouldnotwellavoidcuttingmyconnectionwhenIcameout.TheAssault-and-Batterybusiness,intowhichIwasnowforcedtoadventure

for a livelihood, was somewhat ill-adapted to the delicate nature of myconstitution;butIwenttoworkinitwithagoodheart,andfoundmyaccounthere, as heretofore, in those stern habits ofmethodical accuracywhich hadbeen thumped intome by that delightful old nurse—Iwould indeed be thebasestofmennottorememberherwellinmywill.Byobserving,asIsay,thestrictestsysteminallmydealings,andkeepingawell-regulatedsetofbooks,Iwasenabledtogetovermanyseriousdifficulties,and,intheend,toestablishmyself verydecently in theprofession.The truth is, that few individuals, inanyline,didasnuggerlittlebusinessthanI.IwilljustcopyapageorsooutofmyDay-Book;andthiswillsavemethenecessityofblowingmyowntrumpet—acontemptiblepracticeofwhichnohigh-mindedmanwillbeguilty.Now,theDay-Bookisathingthatdon'tlie."Jan.1.—NewYear'sDay.MetSnapin thestreet,groggy.Mem—he'lldo.

Met Gruff shortly afterward, blind drunk.Mem—he'll answer, too. EnteredbothgentlemeninmyLedger,andopenedarunningaccountwitheach."Jan. 2.—Saw Snap at the Exchange, and went up and trod on his toe.

Doubledhis fistandknockedmedown.Good!—gotupagain.SometriflingdifficultywithBag,myattorney.Iwantthedamagesatathousand,buthesaysthatforsosimpleaknockdownwecan'tlaythematmorethanfivehundred.Mem—mustgetridofBag—nosystematall."Jan. 3—Went to the theatre, to look forGruff. Saw him sitting in a side

box,inthesecondtier,betweenafatladyandaleanone.Quizzedthewholeparty throughanopera-glass, till I saw the fat ladyblushandwhisper toG.Went round, then, into the box, and putmy nosewithin reach of his hand.Wouldn'tpullit—nogo.Blewit,andtriedagain—nogo.Satdownthen,andwinkedattheleanlady,whenIhadthehighsatisfactionoffindinghimliftmeupbythenapeoftheneck,andflingmeoverintothepit.Neckdislocated,andright leg capitally splintered. Went home in high glee, drank a bottle ofchampagne,andbookedtheyoungmanforfivethousand.Bagsaysit'lldo."Feb.15—CompromisedthecaseofMr.Snap.AmountenteredinJournal—

fiftycents—whichsee."Feb. 16.—Cast by that ruffian, Gruff, who made me a present of five

dollars. Costs of suit, four dollars and twenty-five cents. Nett profit,—seeJournal,—seventy-fivecents."

Now,hereisacleargain, inaverybriefperiod,ofnolessthanonedollarand twenty-five cents—this is in the mere cases of Snap and Gruff; and Isolemnly assure the reader that these extracts are taken at random frommyDay-Book.It's an old saying, and a true one, however, that money is nothing in

comparisonwithhealth.Ifoundtheexactionsoftheprofessionsomewhattoomuch for my delicate state of body; and, discovering, at last, that I wasknockedalloutofshape,sothatIdidn'tknowverywellwhattomakeofthematter, and so thatmy friends,when theymetme in the street, couldn't tellthatIwasPeterProffitatall,itoccurredtomethatthebestexpedientIcouldadopt was to alter my line of business. I turnedmy attention, therefore, toMud-Dabbling,andcontinueditforsomeyears.Theworstofthisoccupationis,thattoomanypeopletakeafancytoit,and

thecompetitionisinconsequenceexcessive.Everyignoramusofafellowwhofindsthathehasn'tbrainsinsufficientquantitytomakehiswayasawalkingadvertiser,oraneye-soreprig,orasalt-and-batterman,thinks,ofcourse,thathe'llanswerverywellasadabblerofmud.Butthereneverwasentertainedamoreerroneousideathanthatitrequiresnobrainstomud-dabble.Especially,there is nothing to bemade in thiswaywithoutmethod. I did only a retailbusinessmyself,butmyoldhabitsofsystemcarriedmeswimminglyalong.Iselectedmy street-crossing, in the first place, with great deliberation, and Ineverputdownabroominanypartofthetownbutthat.Itookcare,too,tohaveanice littlepuddleathand,which Icouldgetat inaminute.By thesemeansIgottobewellknownasamantobetrusted;andthisisone-halfthebattle,letmetellyou,intrade.Nobodyeverfailedtopitchmeacopper,andgot overmy crossingwith a clean pair of pantaloons.And, asmy businesshabits, in this respect, were sufficiently understood, I never met with anyattemptatimposition.Iwouldn'thaveputupwithit,ifIhad.Neverimposingupon any one myself, I suffered no one to play the possum with me. Thefrauds of the banks of course I couldn't help. Their suspension put me toruinousinconvenience.These,however,arenotindividuals,butcorporations;andcorporations,itisverywellknown,haveneitherbodiestobekickednorsoulstobedamned.I was making money at this business when, in an evil moment, I was

inducedtomergeitintheCur-Spattering—asomewhatanalogous,but,bynomeans,sorespectableaprofession.Mylocation,tobesure,wasanexcellentone,beingcentral,andIhadcapitalblackingandbrushes.Mylittledog,too,wasquitefatanduptoallvarietiesofsnuff.Hehadbeeninthetradealongtime,and, Imaysay,understood it.Ourgeneral routinewas this:—Pompey,havingrolledhimselfwellinthemud,satuponendattheshopdoor,untilheobservedadandyapproachinginbrightboots.Hethenproceededtomeethim,andgavetheWellingtonsarubor twowithhiswool.Thenthedandyswore

verymuch,and lookedabout foraboot-black.ThereIwas, full inhisview,with blacking and brushes. It was only a minute's work, and then came asixpence.Thisdidmoderatelywellforatime;—infact,Iwasnotavaricious,butmy dogwas. I allowed him a third of the profit, but hewas advised toinsistuponhalf.ThisIcouldn'tstand—sowequarrelledandparted.InexttriedmyhandattheOrgan-Grindingforawhile,andmaysaythatI

madeoutprettywell. It is aplain, straightforwardbusiness, and requiresnoparticularabilities.Youcangetamusic-millforameresong,andtoputitinorder,youhavebuttoopentheworks,andgivethemthreeorfoursmartrapswithahammer.Inimprovesthetoneofthething,forbusinesspurposes,morethanyoucanimagine.Thisdone,youhaveonlytostrollalong,withthemillonyourback,untilyouseetanbarkinthestreet,andaknockerwrappedupinbuckskin.Thenyoustopandgrind;lookingasifyoumeanttostopandgrindtill doomsday. Presently a window opens, and somebody pitches you asixpence,witha request to"Hushupandgoon,"etc. Iamaware that somegrinders have actually afforded to "go on" for this sum; but for my part, Ifound the necessary outlay of capital too great to permit ofmy "going on"underashilling.AtthisoccupationIdidagooddeal;but,somehow,Iwasnotquitesatisfied,

andsofinallyabandonedit.Thetruthis,Ilaboredunderthedisadvantageofhaving nomonkey—andAmerican streets are somuddy, and aDemocraticrabbleissoobstrusive,andsofullofdemnitionmischievouslittleboys.Iwasnowoutofemploymentforsomemonths,butatlengthsucceeded,by

dint of great interest, in procuring a situation in the Sham-Post. The duties,here,aresimple,andnotaltogetherunprofitable.Forexample:—veryearlyinthemorningIhadtomakeupmypacketofshamletters.UpontheinsideofeachoftheseIhadtoscrawlafewlinesonanysubjectwhichoccurredtomeas sufficiently mysterious—signing all the epistles Tom Dobson, or BobbyTompkins,oranythinginthatway.Havingfoldedandsealedall,andstampedthemwithshampostmarks—NewOrleans,Bengal,BotanyBay,oranyotherplaceagreatwayoff—Isetout,forthwith,uponmydailyroute,asifinaverygreathurry.Ialwayscalledatthebighousestodelivertheletters,andreceivethepostage.Nobodyhesitatesatpaying fora letter—especially foradoubleone—people are such fools—and it was no trouble to get round a cornerbefore therewas timetoopen theepistles.Theworstof thisprofessionwas,that Ihad towalk somuchand so fast; and so frequently tovarymy route.Besides, I had serious scruples of conscience. I can't bear to hear innocentindividualsabused—andthewaythewholetowntooktocursingTomDobsonand Bobby Tompkins was really awful to hear. I washed my hands of thematterindisgust.My eighth and last speculation has been in the Cat-Growingway. I have

foundthatamostpleasantandlucrativebusiness,and,really,notroubleatall.

Thecountry,itiswellknown,hasbecomeinfestedwithcats—somuchsooflate, that a petition for relief,most numerously and respectably signed,wasbroughtbeforetheLegislatureatitslatememorablesession.TheAssembly,atthisepoch,wasunusuallywell-informed,and,havingpassedmanyotherwiseandwholesome enactments, it crowned all with the Cat-Act. In its originalform, this law offered a premium for cat-heads (fourpence a-piece), but theSenate succeeded in amending themain clause, so as to substitute theword"tails"for"heads."Thisamendmentwassoobviouslyproper,thattheHouseconcurredinitnem.con.Assoonas thegovernorhadsignedthebill, I investedmywholeestate in

thepurchaseofTomsandTabbies.At first I couldonlyafford to feed themuponmice(whicharecheap),buttheyfulfilledthescripturalinjunctionatsomarvellousa rate, that I at lengthconsidered itmybestpolicy tobe liberal,and so indulged them inoysters and turtle.Their tails, at a legislativeprice,nowbringme in a good income; for I havediscovered away, inwhich, bymeansofMacassaroil,Icanforcethreecropsinayear.Itdelightsmetofind,too,thattheanimalssoongetaccustomedtothething,andwouldratherhavethe appendages cut off than otherwise. I considermyself, therefore, amademan,andambargainingforacountryseatontheHudson.

THELANDSCAPEGARDEN

Thegardenlikealadyfairwascut

Thatlayasifsheslumberedindelight,

Andtotheopenskieshereyesdidshut;

Theazurefieldsofheavenwere'sembledright

Inalargeroundsetwithflow'rsoflight:

Theflowersdeluceandtheroundsparksofdew

Thathungupontheirazureleaves,didshow

Liketwinklingstarsthatsparkleintheev'ningblue.

—GILESFLETCHER

NOMORE remarkablemanever lived thanmy friend, theyoungEllison.Hewasremarkable in theentireandcontinuousprofusionofgoodgiftseverlavished upon him by fortune. From his cradle to his grave, a gale of theblandest prosperity bore him along.Nor do I use theword Prosperity in itsmerewordlyorexternalsense.Imeanitassynonymouswithhappiness.ThepersonofwhomI speak, seemedborn for thepurposeof foreshadowing thewilddoctrinesofTurgot,Price,Priestley,andCondorcet—ofexemplifying,byindividual instance, what has been deemed the mere chimera of theperfectionists.InthebriefexistenceofEllison,Ifancy,thatIhaveseenrefutedthe dogma—that in man's physical and spiritual nature, lies some hiddenprinciple,theantagonistofBliss.Anintimateandanxiousexaminationofhiscareer,hastaughtmetounderstandthat,ingeneral,fromtheviolationofafew

simple laws of Humanity, arises the Wretchedness of mankind; that, as aspecies,wehaveinourpossessiontheasyetunwroughtelementsofContent,—andthatevennow,inthepresentblindnessanddarknessofallideaonthegreat question of the Social Condition, it is not impossible that Man, theindividual, under certain unusual and highly fortuitous conditions, may behappy.Withopinionssuchasthesewasmyyoungfriendfullyimbued;andthusis

it especially worthy of observation that the uninterrupted enjoyment whichdistinguished his lifewas in great part the result of preconcert. It is, indeedevident, that with less of the instinctive philosophy which, now and then,stands so well in the stead of experience, Mr. Ellison would have foundhimselfprecipitated,by theveryextraordinary successesofhis life, into thecommon vortex of Unhappiness which yawns for those of preeminentendowments. But it is by no means my present object to pen an essay onHappiness. The ideas ofmy friendmay be summed up in a fewwords.Headmitted but four unvarying laws, or rather elementary principles, of Bliss.Thatwhichheconsideredchief,was (strange to say!) the simpleandpurelyphysicaloneoffreeexerciseintheopenair."Thehealth,"hesaid,"attainablebyothermeansthanthisisscarcelyworththename."Hepointedtothetillersof the earth—the only peoplewho, as a class, are proverbiallymore happythan others—and then he instanced the high ecstasies of the fox-hunter.Hissecond principle was the love of woman. His third was the contempt ofambition. His fourth was an object of unceasing pursuit; and he held that,other things being equal, the extent of happiness was proportioned to thespiritualityofthisobject.IhavesaidthatEllisonwasremarkableinthecontinuousprofusionofgood

giftslavisheduponhimbyFortune.Inpersonalgraceandbeautyheexceededallmen.Hisintellectwasofthatordertowhichtheattainmentofknowledgeislessalaborthananecessityandanintuition.Hisfamilywasoneofthemostillustrious of the empire. His bride was the loveliest and most devoted ofwomen.Hispossessionshadbeenalwaysample;but,upontheattainmentofhisoneandtwentiethyear, itwasdiscovered thatoneof thoseextraordinaryfreaks of Fate had been played in his behalf which startle thewhole socialworld amid which they occur, and seldom fail radically to alter the entiremoral constitution of thosewho are their objects. It appears that about onehundredyearspriortoMr.Ellison'sattainmentofhismajority,therehaddied,inaremoteprovince,oneMr.SeabrightEllison.Thisgentlemenhadamassedaprincelyfortune,and,havingnoveryimmediateconnexions,conceivedthewhim of suffering hiswealth to accumulate for a century after his decease.Minutely and sagaciously directing the various modes of investment, hebequeathed the aggregate amount to the nearest of blood, bearing the nameEllison, who should be alive at the end of the hundred years. Many futile

attemptshadbeenmadetosetasidethissingularbequest;theirexpostfactocharacter rendered them abortive; but the attention of a jealous governmentwas aroused, and a decree finally obtained, forbidding all similaraccumulations.This actdidnotpreventyoungEllison,uponhis twenty-firstbirth-day,fromenteringintopossession,astheheirofhisancestor,Seabright,ofafortuneoffourhundredandfiftymillionsofdollars.When ithadbecomedefinitelyknown that suchwas theenormouswealth

inherited, there were, of course, many speculations as to the mode of itsdisposal.Thegiganticmagnitudeandtheimmediatelyavailablenatureofthesum,dazzledandbewilderedallwhothoughtuponthetopic.Thepossessorofanyappreciableamountofmoneymighthavebeenimaginedtoperformanyoneofathousandthings.Withrichesmerelysurpassingthoseofanycitizen,itwould have been easy to suppose him engaging to supreme excess in thefashionable extravagances of his time; or busying himself with politicalintrigues;oraimingatministerialpower,orpurchasingincreaseofnobility,ordevisinggorgeousarchitecturalpiles;or collecting large specimensofVirtu;or playing the munificent patron of Letters and Art; or endowing andbestowing his name upon extensive institutions of charity. But, for theinconceivablewealthintheactualpossessionoftheyoungheir,theseobjectsand all ordinary objects were felt to be inadequate. Recourse was had tofigures;and figuresbut sufficed toconfound. Itwas seen, that evenat threeper cent, the annual income of the inheritance amounted to no less thanthirteenmillions and five hundred thousand dollars; whichwas onemillionandonehundredandtwenty-fivethousandpermonth;orthirty-sixthousand,ninehundredandeighty-sixperday,oronethousandfivehundredandforty-oneperhour,or sixand twentydollars for everyminute that flew.Thus theusualtrackofsuppositionwasthoroughlybrokenup.Menknewnotwhattoimagine.ThereweresomewhoevenconceivedthatMr.Ellisonwoulddivesthimselfforthwithofatleasttwo-thirdsofhisfortuneasofutterlysuperfluousopulence; enriching whole troops of his relatives by division of hissuperabundance.Iwasnotsurprised,however,toperceivethathehadlongmadeuphismind

uponatopicwhichhadoccasionedsomuchofdiscussiontohisfriends.NorwasIgreatlyastonishedatthenatureofhisdecision.Inthewidestandnoblestsense, he was a poet. He comprehended, moreover, the true character, theaugust aims, the suprememajesty and dignity of the poetic sentiment. ThepropergratificationofthesentimentheinstinctivelyfelttolieinthecreationofnovelformsofBeauty.Somepeculiarities,eitherinhisearlyeducation,orin thenatureofhis intellect,had tingedwithwhat is termedmaterialismthewhole cast of his ethical speculations; and it was this bias, perhaps, whichimperceptiblyledhimtoperceivethatthemostadvantageous,ifnotthesolelegitimatefieldfortheexerciseofthepoeticsentiment,wastobefoundinthe

creationofnovelmoodsofpurelyphysical loveliness.Thus ithappenedthathebecameneithermusiciannorpoet;ifweusethislatterterminitsevery—dayacceptation.Oritmighthavebeenthathebecameneithertheonenortheother, in pursuance of an idea of his which I have alreadymentioned—theidea, that in the contempt of ambition lay one of the essential principles ofhappinessonearth.Isitnot,indeed,possiblethatwhileahighorderofgeniusisnecessarilyambitious, thehighestis invariablyabovethatwhichistermedambition?AndmayitnotthushappenthatmanyfargreaterthanMilton,havecontentedlyremained"muteandinglorious?"Ibelievetheworldhasneveryetseen, and that, unless through some series of accidents goading the noblestorderofmind intodistastefulexertion, theworldwillneverbehold, that fullextentoftriumphantexecution,inthericherproductionsofArt,ofwhichthehumannatureisabsolutelycapable.Mr.Ellisonbecameneithermusiciannorpoet;althoughnomanlivedmore

profoundlyenamoredbothofMusicandtheMuse.Underothercircumstancesthanthosewhichinvestedhim,itisnotimpossiblethathewouldhavebecomeapainter.Thefieldofsculpture,althoughinitsnaturerigidlypoetical,wastoolimited in its extent and in its consequences, to have occupied, at any time,muchofhisattention.AndIhavenowmentionedall theprovincesinwhicheventhemost liberalunderstandingof thepoeticsentimenthasdeclaredthissentimentcapableofexpatiating.Imeanthemostliberalpublicorrecognizedconception of the idea involved in the phrase "poetic sentiment." But Mr.Ellison imagined that the richest, and altogether the most natural andmostsuitableprovince,hadbeenblindlyneglected.NodefinitionhadspokenoftheLandscape-Gardener,asof thepoet;yetmy friendcouldnot fail toperceivethat thecreationof theLandscape-Gardenoffered to the truemuse themostmagnificentofopportunities.Herewas,indeed,thefairestfieldforthedisplayof invention, or imagination, in the endless combining of forms of novelBeauty;theelementswhichshouldenterintocombinationbeing,atalltimes,andbyavastsuperiority,themostgloriouswhichtheearthcouldafford.Inthemultiformof the tree, and in themulticolorof the flower,he recognized themost direct and the most energetic efforts of Nature at physical loveliness.Andinthedirectionorconcentrationofthiseffort,or,stillmoreproperly,initsadaptiontotheeyeswhichweretobeholdituponearth,heperceivedthatheshouldbeemployingthebestmeans—laboringtothegreatestadvantage—inthefulfilmentofhisdestinyasPoet."Its adaptation to the eyes which were to behold it upon earth." In his

explanationof this phraseology,Mr.Ellisondidmuch towards solvingwhathas always seemed to me an enigma. I mean the fact (which none but theignorantdispute,)thatnosuchcombinationsofsceneryexistinNatureasthepainter of genius has in his power to produce.No such Paradises are to befound in reality as have glowed upon the canvass of Claude. In the most

enchanting of natural landscapes, therewill always be found a defect or anexcess—manyexcessesanddefects.Whilethecomponentpartsmayexceed,individually, the highest skill of the artist, the arrangement of the partswillalwaysbesusceptibleof improvement. In short,nopositioncanbeattained,fromwhichanartisticaleye,lookingsteadily,willnotfindmatterofoffence,inwhatistechnicallytermedthecompositionofanaturallandscape.Andyethowunintelligibleisthis!InallothermatterswearejustlyinstructedtoregardNature as supreme.Withher detailswe shrink fromcompetition.Who shallpresumetoimitatethecolorsofthetulip,ortoimprovetheproportionsofthelilyofthevalley?Thecriticismwhichsays,ofsculptureorofportraiture,that"Nature is to be exalted rather than imitated," is in error. No pictorial orsculpturalcombinationsofpointsofhumanloveliness,domorethanapproachthe livingandbreathinghumanbeautyas it gladdensourdailypath.Byron,who often erred, erred not in saying, I've seenmore living beauty, ripe andreal, than all the nonsense of their stone ideal. In landscape alone is theprincipleofthecritictrue;and,havingfeltitstruthhere,itisbuttheheadlongspiritofgeneralizationwhichhasinducedhimtopronounceittruethroughoutall thedomainsofArt.Having,Isay,felt itstruthhere.Forthefeelingisnoaffectation or chimera. The mathematics afford no more absolutedemonstrations,thanthesentimentofhisArtyieldstotheartist.Henotonlybelieves, but positively knows, that such and such apparently arbitraryarrangements of matter, or form, constitute, and alone constitute, the trueBeauty.Yethisreasonshavenotyetbeenmaturedintoexpression.Itremainsforamoreprofoundanalysisthantheworldhasyetseen,fullytoinvestigateandexpressthem.Neverthelessisheconfirmedinhisinstinctiveopinions,bythe concurrence of all his compeers. Let a composition be defective, let anemendationbewrought in itsmerearrangementofform;let thisemendationbe submitted to every artist in the world; by each will its necessity beadmitted. And even far more than this, in remedy of the defectivecomposition,eachinsulatedmemberofthefraternitywillsuggesttheidenticalemendation.Irepeatthatinlandscapearrangements,orcollocationsalone,isthephysical

Nature susceptible of "exaltation" and that, therefore, her susceptibility ofimprovement at this one point, was a mystery which, hitherto I had beenunabletosolve.ItwasMr.Ellisonwhofirstsuggestedtheideathatwhatweregardedasimprovementorexaltationofthenaturalbeauty,wasreallysuch,as respectedonly themortalorhumanpointofview; that eachalterationordisturbance of the primitive scenery might possibly effect a blemish in thepicture, ifwe could suppose this picture viewed at large from some remotepoint in the heavens. "It is easily understood," saysMr. Ellison, "that whatmight improvea closely scrutinizeddetail,might, at the same time, injure ageneralandmoredistantly—observedeffect."Hespokeuponthis topicwith

warmth:regardingnotsomuchitsimmediateorobviousimportance,(whichis little,)as thecharacterof theconclusionstowhichitmight lead,orof thecollateral propositionswhich itmight serve to corroborate or sustain. Theremight be a class of beings, humanonce, but now to humanity invisible, forwhose scrutiny and for whose refined appreciation of the beautiful, moreespeciallythanforourown,hadbeensetinorderbyGodthegreatlandscape-gardenofthewholeearth.In the course of our discussion, my young friend took occasion to quote

somepassagesfromawriterwhohasbeensupposedtohavewelltreatedthistheme."Thereare,properly,"hewrites,"buttwostylesoflandscape-gardening,the

naturalandtheartificial.Oneseekstorecalltheoriginalbeautyofthecountry,byadaptingitsmeanstothesurroundingscenery;cultivatingtreesinharmonywith the hills or plain of the neighboring land; detecting and bringing intopracticethosenicerelationsofsize,proportionandcolorwhich,hidfromthecommon observer, are revealed everywhere to the experienced student ofnature. The result of the natural style of gardening, is seen rather in theabsence of all defects and incongruities—in the prevalence of a beautifulharmonyandorder, than in thecreationof any specialwondersormiracles.Theartificialstylehasasmanyvarietiesastherearedifferenttastestogratify.Ithasacertaingeneralrelationtothevariousstylesofbuilding.Therearethestately avenues and retirements of Versailles; Italian terraces; and a variousmixedoldEnglishstyle,whichbearssomerelationtothedomesticGothicorEnglishElizabethanarchitecture.Whatevermaybesaidagainsttheabusesoftheartificiallandscape-gardening,amixtureofpureartinagardenscene,addstoitagreatbeauty.Thisispartlypleasingtotheeye,bytheshowoforderanddesign,andpartlymoral.Aterrace,withanoldmoss-coveredbalustrade,callsupatoncetotheeye,thefairformsthathavepassedthereinotherdays.Theslightestexhibitionofartisanevidenceofcareandhumaninterest.""FromwhatIhavealreadyobserved,"saidMr.Ellison,"youwillunderstand

that I reject the idea, here expressed, of 'recalling the original beauty of thecountry.' The original beauty is never so great as that which may beintroduced. Of course, much depends upon the selection of a spot withcapabilities.Whatissaidinrespecttothe'detectingandbringingintopracticethose nice relations of size, proportion and color,' is a mere vagueness ofspeech,whichmaymeanmuch,or little,ornothing,andwhichguides innodegree.Thatthetrue'resultofthenaturalstyleofgardeningisseenratherintheabsenceofalldefectsandincongruities,thaninthecreationofanyspecialwonders or miracles,' is a proposition better suited to the grovellingapprehensionoftheherd,thantotheferviddreamsofthemanofgenius.Themeritsuggestedis,atbest,negative,andappertainstothathobblingcriticismwhich, in letters,wouldelevateAddison intoapotheosis. In truth,while that

merit which consists in the mere avoiding demerit, appeals directly to theunderstanding,andcanthusbeforeshadowedinRule,theloftiermerit,whichbreathesandflamesininventionorcreation,canbeapprehendedsolelyinitsresults.Ruleappliesbuttotheexcellencesofavoidance—tothevirtueswhichdeny or refrain. Beyond these the critical art can but suggest. We may beinstructed to build an Odyssey, but it is in vain that we are told how toconceivea'Tempest,'an'Inferno,'a'PrometheusBound,'a'Nightingale,'suchas that ofKeats, or the 'SensitivePlant' of Shelley.But, the thing done, thewonder accomplished, and the capacity for apprehensionbecomesuniversal.The sophists of the negative school, who, through inability to create, havescoffed at creation, are now found the loudest in applause. What, in itschrysalisconditionofprinciple,affrontedtheirdemurereason,neverfails,initsmaturityofaccomplishment,toextortadmirationfromtheirinstinctofthebeautifulorofthesublime."Our author's observations on the artificial style of gardening," continued

Mr.Ellison,"arelessobjectionable. 'Amixtureofpureartinagardenscene,addstoitagreatbeauty.'Thisisjust;andthereferencetothesenseofhumaninterest is equally so. I repeat that the principle here expressed, isincontrovertible;buttheremaybesomethingevenbeyondit.Theremaybeanobjectinfullkeepingwiththeprinciplesuggested—anobjectunattainablebythemeansordinarily inpossessionofmankind,yetwhich, ifattained,wouldlendacharm to the landscape-garden immeasurably surpassing thatwhichamerelyhumaninterestcouldbestow.Thetruepoetpossessedofveryunusualpecuniaryresources,mightpossibly,whileretainingthenecessaryideaofartorinterestorculture,soimbuehisdesignsatoncewithextentandnoveltyofBeauty, as to convey the sentiment of spiritual interference. It will be seenthat,inbringingaboutsuchresult,hesecuresalltheadvantagesofinterestordesign,whilerelievinghisworkofalltheharshnessandtechnicalityofArt.Inthemost rugged ofwildernesses—in themost savage of the scenes of pureNature—thereisapparenttheartofaCreator;yetisthisartapparentonlytoreflection; in no respect has it the obvious force of a feeling. Now, if weimaginethissenseoftheAlmightyDesigntobeharmonizedinameasurabledegree, if we suppose a landscape whose combined strangeness, vastness,definitiveness,andmagnificence,shall inspire theideaofculture,orcare,orsuperintendence,onthepartof intelligencessuperioryetakintohumanity—thenthesentimentofinterestispreserved,whiletheArtismadetoassumetheairofanintermediateorsecondaryNature—aNaturewhichisnotGod,noranemanation of God, but which still is Nature, in the sense that it is thehandiworkoftheangelsthathoverbetweenmanandGod."It was in devoting his gigantic wealth to the practical embodiment of a

visionsuchas this—inthefreeexercise in theopenair,whichresultedfrompersonaldirectionofhisplans—inthecontinuousandunceasingobjectwhich

theseplansafford—inthecontemptofambitionwhichitenabledhimmoretofeelthantoaffect—and,lastly,itwasinthecompanionshipandsympathyofadevotedwife,thatEllisonthoughttofind,andfound,anexemptionfromtheordinary caresofHumanity,with a far greater amountof positivehappinessthaneverglowedintheraptday-dreamsofDeStael.

MAELZEL'SCHESS-PLAYER

PERHAPSnoexhibitionofthekindhaseverelicitedsogeneralattentionastheChess-PlayerofMaelzel.Whereverseen ithasbeenanobjectof intensecuriosity, to all persons who think. Yet the question of itsmodus operandiis still undetermined. Nothing has been written on this topic which can beconsidered as decisive—and accordingly we find every where men ofmechanical genius, of great general acuteness, and discriminativeunderstanding, whomake no scruple in pronouncing the Automaton a puremachine, unconnected with human agency in its movements, andconsequently,beyondallcomparison,themostastonishingoftheinventionsofmankind. And such it would undoubtedly be, were they right in theirsupposition.Assumingthishypothesis,itwouldbegrosslyabsurdtocomparewiththeChess-Player,anysimilarthingofeithermodernorancientdays.Yetthere have been many and wonderful automata. In Brewster's Letters onNaturalMagic,wehaveanaccountofthemostremarkable.Amongthesemaybementioned,ashavingbeyonddoubtexisted,firstly, thecoachinventedbyM.CamusfortheamusementofLouisXIVwhenachild.Atable,aboutfourfeet square, was introduced, into the room appropriated for the exhibition.Uponthistablewasplacedacarriage,sixinchesinlength,madeofwood,anddrawnby twohorsesof thesamematerial.Onewindowbeingdown,a ladywas seen on the back seat. A coachman held the reins on the box, and afootman and page were in their places behind. M. Camus now touched aspring;whereuponthecoachmansmackedhiswhip,andthehorsesproceededin a natural manner, along the edge of the table, drawing after them thecarriage.Havinggoneas faraspossible in thisdirection,a sudden turnwasmade to the left, and the vehicle was driven at right angles to its formercourse, and still closely along the edge of the table. In this way the coachproceeded until it arrived opposite the chair of the young prince. It thenstopped, the page descended and opened the door, the lady alighted, andpresentedapetitiontohersovereign.Shethenre-entered.Thepageputupthesteps, closed the door, and resumed his station. The coachmanwhipped hishorses,andthecarriagewasdrivenbacktoitsoriginalposition.

The magician of M. Maillardet is also worthy of notice. We copy thefollowing account of it from the Letters before mentioned of Dr. B., whoderivedhisinformationprincipallyfromtheEdinburghEncyclopaedia."Oneofthemostpopularpiecesofmechanismwhichwehaveseen,Isthe

MagicianconstructedbyM.Maillardet, for thepurposeofansweringcertaingiven questions. A figure, dressed like a magician, appears seated at thebottom of a wall, holding a wand in one hand, and a book in the other Anumberofquestions,readyprepared,areinscribedonovalmedallions,andthespectatortakesanyofthesehechoosesandtowhichhewishesananswer,andhavingplaceditinadrawerreadytoreceiveit,thedrawershutswithaspringtill theanswer is returned.Themagician thenarises fromhis seat,bowshishead,describescircleswithhiswand, andconsulting thebookas If indeepthought,heliftsittowardshisface.Havingthusappearedtoponderovertheproposedquestionheraiseshiswand,andstrikingwithit thewallabovehishead, two folding doors fly open, and display an appropriate answer to thequestion.The doors again close, themagician resumes his original position,and the drawer opens to return the medallion. There are twenty of thesemedallions, all containingdifferent questions, towhich themagician returnsthemostsuitableandstrikinganswers.Themedallionsarethinplatesofbrass,of anelliptical form,exactly resemblingeachother.Someof themedallionshaveaquestioninscribedoneachside,bothofwhichthemagicianansweredinsuccession.If thedrawerisshutwithoutamedallionbeingputintoit, themagicianrises,consultshisbook,shakeshishead,andresumeshisseat.Thefoldingdoorsremainshut,andthedrawerisreturnedempty.Iftwomedallionsareputintothedrawertogether,ananswerisreturnedonlytothelowerone.When the machinery is wound up, the movements continue about an hour,duringwhichtimeaboutfiftyquestionsmaybeanswered.Theinventorstatedthatthemeansbywhichthedifferentmedallionsacteduponthemachinery,soastoproducetheproperanswerstothequestionswhichtheycontained,wereextremelysimple."TheduckofVaucansonwasstillmoreremarkable.Itwasofthesizeoflife,

and so perfect an imitation of the living animal that all the spectatorsweredeceived.Itexecuted,saysBrewster,allthenaturalmovementsandgestures,itateanddrankwithavidity,performedallthequickmotionsoftheheadandthroatwhicharepeculiar totheduck,andlikeitmuddledthewaterwhichitdrankwithitsbill.Itproducedalsothesoundofquackinginthemostnaturalmanner.Intheanatomicalstructuretheartistexhibitedthehighestskill.Everybone in the real duckhad its representative In the automaton, and itswingswereanatomicallyexact.Everycavity,apophysis,andcurvaturewasimitated,andeachboneexecuteditspropermovements.Whencornwasthrowndownbeforeit,theduckstretchedoutitsnecktopickitup,swallowed,anddigestedit.

Butifthesemachineswereingenious,whatshallwethinkofthecalculatingmachineofMr.Babbage?Whatshallwethinkofanengineofwoodandmetalwhichcannotonlycomputeastronomicalandnavigationtablestoanygivenextent, but render the exactitude of its operations mathematically certainthrough itspowerofcorrecting itspossibleerrors?Whatshallwe thinkofamachine which can not only accomplish all this, but actually print off itselaborate results, when obtained, without the slightest intervention of theintellectofman?Itwill,perhaps,besaid,inreply,thatamachinesuchaswehave described is altogether above comparison with the Chess-Player ofMaelzel.Bynomeans—itisaltogetherbeneathit—thatistosayprovidedweassume(whatshouldneverforamomentbeassumed)thattheChess-Playerisa puremachine, and performs its operations without any immediate humanagency. Arithmetical or algebraical calculations are, from their very nature,fixedanddeterminate.Certaindatabeinggiven,certainresultsnecessarilyandinevitably follow. These results have dependence upon nothing, and areinfluenced by nothing but thedataoriginally given.And the question to besolvedproceeds,orshouldproceed,toitsfinaldetermination,byasuccessionof unerring steps liable to no change, and subject to no modification. Thisbeing the case, we can without difficulty conceive the possibility of soarranging a piece of mechanism, that upon starting In accordance withthe data of the question to be solved, it should continue its movementsregularly,progressively,andundeviatinglytowardstherequiredsolution,sincethesemovements,howevercomplex,areneverimaginedtobeotherwisethanfiniteanddeterminate.ButthecaseiswidelydifferentwiththeChess-Player.With him there is no determinate progression. No one move in chessnecessarilyfollowsuponanyoneother.Fromnoparticulardispositionofthemenatoneperiodofagamecanwepredicatetheirdispositionatadifferentperiod.Letusplacethe firstmoveinagameofchess, in juxta-positionwiththedata of an algebraical question, and their great difference will beimmediatelyperceived.Fromthelatter—fromthedata—thesecondstepofthequestion, dependent thereupon, inevitably follows. It is modelled bythedata. Itmust be thus and not otherwise. But from the firstmove in thegameofchessnoespecialsecondmovefollowsofnecessity.Inthealgebraicalquestion, as it proceeds towards solution, the certainty of its operationsremainsaltogetherunimpaired.Thesecondstephavingbeenaconsequenceofthedata, the thirdstep isequallyaconsequenceof thesecond, thefourthofthethird,thefifthofthefourth,andsoon,andnotpossiblyotherwise,totheend. But in proportion to the progress made in a game of chess, istheuncertaintyofeachensuingmove.Afewmoveshavingbeenmade,nostepiscertain.Differentspectatorsofthegamewouldadvisedifferentmoves.Allis then dependent upon the variable judgment of the players. Now evengranting(whatshouldnotbegranted) that themovementsof theAutomaton

Chess-Player were in themselves determinate, they would be necessarilyinterruptedanddisarrangedbytheindeterminatewillofhisantagonist.ThereisthennoanalogywhateverbetweentheoperationsoftheChess-Player,andthoseofthecalculatingmachineofMr.Babbage,andifwechoosetocalltheformer apure machinewe must be prepared to admit that it is, beyond allcomparison, the most wonderful of the inventions of mankind. Its originalprojector, however, BaronKempelen, had no scruple in declaring it to be a"very ordinary piece ofmechanism—abagatellewhose effects appeared somarvellousonlyfromtheboldnessoftheconception,andthefortunatechoiceofthemethodsadoptedforpromotingtheillusion."Butitisneedlesstodwellupon this point. It is quite certain that the operations of theAutomaton areregulatedbymind,andbynothingelse.Indeedthismatterissusceptibleofamathematical demonstration, a priori. The only question then is ofthemannerinwhichhumanagencyisbrought tobear.Beforeenteringuponthissubject itwouldbeaswell togiveabriefhistoryanddescriptionof theChess-PlayerforthebenefitofsuchofourreadersasmayneverhavehadanopportunityofwitnessingMr.Maelzel'sexhibition.TheAutomatonChess-Playerwasinventedin1769,byBaronKempelen,a

nobleman of Presburg, in Hungary, who afterwards disposed of it, togetherwith the secret of its operations, to its present possessor. Soon after itscompletionitwasexhibitedinPresburg,Paris,Vienna,andothercontinentalcities.In1783and1784,itwastakentoLondonbyMr.Maelzel.OflateyearsithasvisitedtheprincipaltownsintheUnitedStates.Whereverseen,themostintensecuriositywasexcitedbyitsappearance,andnumeroushavebeentheattempts,bymenofallclasses, to fathomthemysteryof itsevolutions.Thecuton thispagegivesa tolerable representationof the figureas seenby thecitizens of Richmond a fewweeks ago. The right arm, however, should liemore at length upon the box, a chess-board should appear upon it, and thecushionshouldnotbeseenwhilethepipeisheld.Someimmaterialalterationshavebeenmadeinthecostumeoftheplayersinceitcameintothepossessionof Maelzel—the plume, for example, was not originally worn. {image ofautomaton}At the hour appointed for exhibition, a curtain is withdrawn, or folding

doorsarethrownopen,andthemachinerolledtowithinabouttwelvefeetofthe nearest of the spectators, betweenwhom and it (themachine) a rope isstretched.AfigureisseenhabitedasaTurk,andseated,withitslegscrossed,at a large box apparently of maple wood, which serves it as a table. Theexhibiterwill,ifrequested,rollthemachinetoanyportionoftheroom,sufferit to remain altogether on any designated spot, or even shift its locationrepeatedlyduring theprogressofagame.Thebottomof thebox iselevatedconsiderably above the floor by means of the castors or brazen rollers onwhich it moves, a clear view of the surface immediately beneath the

Automaton being thus afforded to the spectators. The chair on which thefigure sits is affixed permanently to the box. On the top of this latter is achess-board, also permanently affixed. The right arm of theChess-Player isextendedatfulllengthbeforehim,atrightangleswithhisbody,andlying,inanapparentlycarelessposition,bythesideoftheboard.Thebackofthehandis upwards. The board itself is eighteen inches square. The left arm of thefigure is bent at the elbow, and in the left hand is a pipe. A green draperyconceals the back of the Turk, and falls partially over the front of bothshoulders.Tojudgefromtheexternalappearanceofthebox,itisdividedintofive compartments—three cupboards of equal dimensions, and two drawersoccupyingthatportionofthechestlyingbeneaththecupboards.Theforegoingobservations apply to the appearance of the Automaton upon its firstintroductionintothepresenceofthespectators.Maelzel now informs the company that hewill disclose to their view the

mechanism of the machine. Taking from his pocket a bunch of keys heunlockswith one of them, doormarked ~ in the cut above, and throws thecupboard fully open to the inspection of all present. Its whole interior isapparently filledwithwheels,pinions, levers, andothermachinery, crowdedverycloselytogether,sothattheeyecanpenetratebutalittledistanceintothemass.Leavingthisdooropentoitsfullextent,hegoesnowroundtothebackofthebox,andraisingthedraperyofthefigure,opensanotherdoorsituatedprecisely in therearof theonefirstopened.Holdinga lightedcandleat thisdoor, and shifting the position of thewholemachine repeatedly at the sametime, a bright light is thrown entirely through the cupboard, which is nowclearly seen to be full, completely full, of machinery. The spectators beingsatisfiedofthisfact,Maelzelclosesthebackdoor,locksit,takesthekeyfromthelock,letsfallthedraperyofthefigure,andcomesroundtothefront.Thedoor marked I, it will be remembered, is still open. The exhibiter nowproceedstoopenthedrawerwhichliesbeneaththecupboardsatthebottomofthebox—for although there are apparently twodrawers, there is reallyonlyone—thetwohandlesandtwokeyholesbeingintendedmerelyforornament.Having opened this drawer to its full extent, a small cushion, and a set ofchessmen, fixed in a frameworkmade to support themperpendicularly, arediscovered.Leavingthisdrawer,aswellascupboardNo.1open,MaelzelnowunlocksdoorNo.2,anddoorNo.3,whicharediscoveredtobefoldingdoors,openingintooneandthesamecompartment.Totherightofthiscompartment,however,(thatistosaythespectators'right)asmalldivision,sixincheswide,andfilledwithmachinery,ispartitionedoff.Themaincompartmentitself(inspeakingof that portion of the boxvisible uponopeningdoors 2 and3,weshall always call it the main compartment) is lined with dark cloth andcontainsnomachinerywhateverbeyondtwopiecesofsteel,quadrant-shaped,andsituatedoneineachof therear topcornersof thecompartment.Asmall

protuberanceabouteightinchessquare,andalsocoveredwithdarkcloth,lieson the floor of the compartment near the rear corner on the spectators' lefthand.LeavingdoorsNo.2andNo.3openaswellasthedrawer,anddoorNo.I, the exhibiter now goes round to the back of themain compartment, and,unlocking another door there, displays clearly all the interior of the maincompartment,byintroducingacandlebehinditandwithinit.Thewholeboxbeingthusapparentlydisclosedtothescrutinyofthecompany,Maelzel,stillleaving the doors and drawer open, rolls theAutomaton entirely round, andexposesthebackoftheTurkbyliftingupthedrapery.Adooraboutteninchessquareisthrownopenintheloinsofthefigure,andasmalleronealsointheleftthigh.Theinteriorofthefigure,asseenthroughtheseapertures,appearstobe crowded with machinery. In general, every spectator is now thoroughlysatisfied of having beheld and completely scrutinized, at one and the sametime,every individualportionof theAutomaton,and the ideaofanypersonbeing concealed in the interior, during so complete an exhibition of thatinterior, if ever entertained, is immediately dismissed as preposterous in theextreme.M.Maelzel,havingrolled themachinebackinto itsoriginalposition,now

informsthecompanythattheAutomatonwillplayagameofchesswithanyonedisposedtoencounterhim.Thischallengebeingaccepted,asmalltableispreparedfortheantagonist,andplacedclosebytherope,butonthespectators'sideofit,andsosituatedasnottopreventthecompanyfromobtainingafullviewof theAutomaton.Fromadrawer in this table is takena set of chess-men, and Maelzel arranges them generally, but not always, with his ownhands, on the chess board, which consists merely of the usual number ofsquares painted upon the table. The antagonist having taken his seat, theexhibiterapproachesthedrawerofthebox,andtakestherefromthecushion,which, after removing the pipe from the hand of the Automaton, he placesunder its left arm as a support. Then taking also from the drawer theAutomaton's setofchess-men,hearranges themupon thechessboardbeforethefigure.Henowproceedstoclosethedoorsandtolockthem—leavingthebunchofkeysindoorNo.1.Healsoclosesthedrawer,and,finally,windsupthemachine,byapplyingakey toanaperture in the leftend(thespectators'left)of thebox.Thegamenowcommences—theAutomaton taking the firstmove.Thedurationofthecontestisusuallylimitedtohalfanhour,butifitbenot finished at the expiration of this period, and the antagonist still contendthat he can beat the Automaton, M. Maelzel has seldom any objection tocontinueit.Nottowearythecompany,istheostensible,andnodoubttherealobjectofthelimitation.ItWitsofcoursebeunderstoodthatwhenamoveismadeathisowntable,bytheantagonist,thecorrespondingmoveismadeatthe box of the Automaton, by Maelzel himself, who then acts as therepresentativeoftheantagonist.Ontheotherhand,whentheTurkmoves,the

correspondingmoveismadeatthetableoftheantagonist,alsobyM.Maelzel,who then acts as the representative of the Automaton. In this manner it isnecessarythattheexhibitershouldoftenpassfromonetabletotheother.Healsofrequentlygoesinrearofthefiguretoremovethechess-menwhichithastaken,andwhichitdeposits,whentaken,ontheboxtotheleft(toitsownleft)of the board. When the Automaton hesitates in relation to its move, theexhibiterisoccasionallyseentoplacehimselfverynearitsrightside,andtolayhishand,nowandthen,inacarelessmanneruponthebox.Hehasalsoapeculiarshufflewithhisfeet,calculatedtoinducesuspicionofcollusionwiththe machine in minds which are more cunning than sagacious. Thesepeculiaritiesare,nodoubt,meremannerismsofM.Maelzel,or,ifheisawareofthematall,heputstheminpracticewithaviewofexcitinginthespectatorsafalseideaofthepuremechanismintheAutomaton.TheTurkplayswithhislefthand.Allthemovementsofthearmareatright

angles.Inthismanner,thehand(whichisglovedandbentinanaturalway,)beingbroughtdirectlyabovethepiecetobemoved,descendsfinallyuponit,the fingers receiving it, in most cases, without difficulty. Occasionally,however,whenthepieceisnotpreciselyinitspropersituation,theAutomatonfails inhisattemptatseizingit.Whenthisoccurs,nosecondeffort ismade,but the arm continues its movement in the direction originally intended,preciselyas if thepiecewerein thefingers.Havingthusdesignatedthespotwhitherthemoveshouldhavebeenmade,thearmreturnstoitscushion,andMaelzel performs the evolutionwhich theAutomaton pointed out.At everymovementofthefiguremachineryisheardinmotion.Duringtheprogressofthe game, the figure now and then rolls its eyes, as if surveying the board,movesitshead,andpronouncesthewordechec(check)whennecessary.Ifafalsemove bemade by his antagonist, he raps briskly on the boxwith thefingers of his right hand, shakes his head roughly, and replacing the piecefalselymoved, in its formersituation,assumes thenextmovehimself.Uponbeating the game, he waves his head with an air of triumph, looks roundcomplacentlyuponthespectators,anddrawinghisleftarmfartherbackthanusual,suffershisfingersalonetorestuponthecushion.Ingeneral,theTurkisvictorious—onceortwicehehasbeenbeaten.Thegamebeingended,Maelzelwillagainifdesired,exhibitthemechanismofthebox,inthesamemannerasbefore.Themachineisthenrolledback,andacurtainhidesitfromtheviewofthecompany.There havebeenmany attempts at solving themystery of theAutomaton.

Themost general opinion in relation to it, an opinion too not unfrequentlyadoptedbymenwhoshouldhaveknownbetter,was,aswehavebeforesaid,that no immediate human agency was employed—in other words, that themachinewaspurelyamachineandnothingelse.Many,howevermaintainedthattheexhibiterhimselfregulatedthemovementsofthefigurebymechanical

meansoperatingthroughthefeetofthebox.Othersagain,spokeconfidentlyofamagnet.Ofthefirstoftheseopinionsweshallsaynothingatpresentmorethanwe have already said. In relation to the second it is only necessary torepeatwhatwehavebeforestated,thatthemachineisrolledaboutoncastors,andwill,at therequestofaspectator,bemovedtoandfrotoanyportionoftheroom,evenduringtheprogressofagame.Thesuppositionofthemagnetis also untenable—for if amagnetwere the agent, any othermagnet in thepocket of a spectatorwoulddisarrange the entiremechanism.The exhibiter,however,willsufferthemostpowerfulloadstonetoremainevenupontheboxduringthewholeoftheexhibition.The first attempt at a written explanation of the secret, at least the first

attempt of which we ourselves have any knowledge, was made in a largepamphletprintedatParisin1785.Theauthor'shypothesisamountedtothis—thatadwarfactuatedthemachine.Thisdwarfhesupposedtoconcealhimselfduringtheopeningoftheboxbythrustinghislegsintotwohollowcylinders,whichwererepresentedtobe(butwhicharenot)amongthemachineryinthecupboardNo.I,whilehisbodywasoutoftheboxentirely,andcoveredbythedraperyoftheTurk.Whenthedoorswereshut,thedwarfwasenabledtobringhis body within the box—the noise produced by some portion of themachineryallowinghimtodosounheard,andalsotoclosethedoorbywhichheentered.Theinterioroftheautomatonbeingthenexhibited,andnopersondiscovered, thespectators,saystheauthorof thispamphlet,aresatisfiedthatnoone iswithinanyportionof themachine.Thiswholehypothesiswas tooobviouslyabsurd to requirecomment,or refutation,andaccordinglywefindthatitattractedverylittleattention.In 1789 a book was published at Dresden byM. I. F. Freyhere in which

anotherendeavorwasmadetounravelthemystery.Mr.Freyhere'sbookwasapretty large one, and copiously illustrated by colored engravings. Hissupposition was that "a well-taught boy very thin and tall of his age(sufficiently so that he could be concealed in a drawer almost immediatelyunder the chess-board") played the game of chess and effected all theevolutionsoftheAutomaton.Thisidea,althoughevenmoresillythanthatofthe Parisian author, met with a better reception, and was in some measurebelievedtobethetruesolutionofthewonder,untiltheinventorputanendtothediscussionbysufferingacloseexaminationofthetopofthebox.These bizarre attempts at explanation were followed by others equally

bizarre.Oflateyearshowever,ananonymouswriter,byacourseofreasoningexceedingly unphilosophical, has contrived to blunder upon a plausiblesolution—althoughwe cannot consider it altogether the true one.His EssaywasfirstpublishedinaBaltimoreweeklypaper,was illustratedbycuts,andwas entitled "An attempt to analyze the Automaton Chess-Player of M.Maelzel."ThisEssaywe suppose to have been the original of thepamphlet

towhichSirDavidBrewsteralludesinhislettersonNaturalMagic,andwhichhe has no hesitation in declaring a thorough and satisfactory explanation.Theresultsoftheanalysisareundoubtedly,inthemain,just;butwecanonlyaccount for Brewster's pronouncing the Essay a thorough and satisfactoryexplanation,by supposinghim tohavebestowedupon it averycursoryandinattentiveperusal.InthecompendiumoftheEssay,madeuseofintheLettersonNaturalMagic,itisquiteimpossibletoarriveatanydistinctconclusioninregardtotheadequacyorinadequacyoftheanalysis,onaccountofthegrossmisarrangementanddeficiencyofthelettersofreferenceemployed.Thesamefaultistobefoundinthe"Attempt&c.,"asweoriginallysawit.Thesolutionconsists in a series ofminute explanations, (accompaniedbywood-cuts, thewhole occupying many pages) in which the object is to showthepossibilityof so shifting the partitionsof the box, as to allow a humanbeing,concealedintheinterior,tomoveportionsofhisbodyfromonepartoftheboxtoanother,duringtheexhibitionofthemechanism—thuseludingthescrutinyofthespectators.Therecanbenodoubt,aswehavebeforeobserved,and aswewill presently endeavor to show, that the principle, or rather theresult, of this solution is the true one. Someperson is concealed in the boxduring thewhole time of exhibiting the interior.We object, however, to thewholeverbosedescriptionofthemannerinwhichthepartitionsareshifted,toaccommodate themovements of the person concealed.We object to it as amere theory assumed in the first place, and to which circumstances areafterwardsmade to adapt themselves. It was not, and could not have been,arrived at by any inductive reasoning. In whatever way the shifting ismanaged, it is of course concealed at every step fromobservation.To showthatcertainmovementsmightpossiblybeeffectedinacertainway,isveryfarfromshowing that theyareactuallysoeffected.Theremaybean infinityofothermethodsbywhichthesameresultsmaybeobtained.Theprobabilityoftheone assumedproving the correct one is then as unity to infinity.But, inreality,thisparticularpoint,theshiftingofthepartitions,isofnoconsequencewhatever.Itwasaltogetherunnecessarytodevotesevenoreightpagesforthepurpose of proving what no one in his senses would deny—viz: that thewonderfulmechanicalgeniusofBaronKempelencould invent thenecessarymeansforshuttingadoororslippingasideapannel,withahumanagenttooathis service in actual contact with the pannel or the door, and the wholeoperations carried on, as the author of the Essay himself shows, and asweshall attempt to show more fully hereafter, entirely out of reach of theobservationofthespectators.In attempting ourselves an explanation of the Automaton, wewill, in the

firstplace,endeavor toshowhowitsoperationsareeffected,andafterwardsdescribe,asbrieflyaspossible,thenatureoftheobservationsfromwhichwehavededucedourresult.

Itwillbenecessaryforaproperunderstandingofthesubject,thatwerepeathere in a fewwords, the routine adopted by the exhibiter in disclosing theinterior of thebox—a routine fromwhichheneverdeviates in anymaterialparticular. In the first place he opens the doorNo. I. Leaving this open, hegoes round to the rearof thebox,andopensadoorpreciselyat thebackofdoorNo. I. To this back door he holds a lighted candle.He thencloses thebackdoor,locksit,and,comingroundtothefront,opensthedrawertoitsfullextent.Thisdone,heopensthedoorsNo.2andNo.3,(thefoldingdoors)anddisplays the interior of the main compartment. Leaving open the maincompartment,thedrawer,andthefrontdoorofcupboardNo.I,henowgoestothe rear again, and throws open the back door of themain compartment. Inshutting up the box no particular order is observed, except that the foldingdoorsarealwaysclosedbeforethedrawer.Now,letussupposethatwhenthemachineisfirstrolledintothepresenceof

thespectators,amanisalreadywithinit.Hisbodyissituatedbehindthedensemachinery in cupboard No. T. (the rear portion of which machinery is socontrivedastoslipenmasse,fromthemaincompartmenttothecupboardNo.I, as occasion may require,) and his legs lie at full length in the maincompartment.WhenMaelzelopens thedoorNo. I, themanwithin isnot inanydangerofdiscovery,forthekeenesteyecannotpenetratemorethanabouttwoinchesintothedarknesswithin.Butthecaseisotherwisewhenthebackdoor of the cupboard No. I, is opened. A bright light then pervades thecupboard,andthebodyofthemanwouldbediscoveredifitwerethere.Butitisnot.Theputtingthekeyinthelockofthebackdoorwasasignalonhearingwhichthepersonconcealedbroughthisbodyforwardtoanangleasacuteaspossible—throwing it altogether, or nearly so, into the main compartment.This, however, is a painful position, and cannot be long maintained.AccordinglywefindthatMaelzelclosesthebackdoor.Thisbeingdone,thereisnoreasonwhythebodyofthemanmaynotresumeitsformersituation—for the cupboard is again so dark as to defy scrutiny. The drawer is nowopened,andthelegsofthepersonwithindropdownbehinditinthespaceitformerlyoccupied.Thereis,consequently,nownolongeranypartofthemaninthemaincompartment—hisbodybeingbehindthemachineryincupboardNo. 1, and his legs in the space occupied by the drawer. The exhibiter,therefore, finds himself at liberty to display themain compartment. This hedoes—opening both its back and front doors—and no person Is discovered.Thespectatorsarenowsatisfiedthatthewholeoftheboxisexposedtoview—andexposedtoo,allportionsofitatoneandthesametime.Butofcoursethis is not the case. They neither see the space behind the drawer, nor theinterior of cupboard No. 1—the front door of which latter the exhibitervirtually shuts in shutting its back door. Maelzel, having now rolled themachine around, lifted up the drapery of the Turk, opened the doors in his

backandthigh,andshownhistrunktobefullofmachinery,bringsthewholebackintoitsoriginalposition,andclosesthedoors.Themanwithinisnowatlibertytomoveabout.HegetsupintothebodyoftheTurkjustsohighastobringhiseyesabove the levelof thechess-board. It isveryprobable thatheseatshimselfupon the littlesquareblockorprotuberancewhich is seen inacornerofthemaincompartmentwhenthedoorsareopen.Inthispositionhesees the chess-board through the bosom of the Turk which is of gauze.Bringing his right arm across his breast he actuates the little machinerynecessarytoguidetheleftarmandthefingersofthefigure.ThismachineryissituatedjustbeneaththeleftshoulderoftheTurk,andisconsequentlyeasilyreachedbytherighthandof themanconcealed, ifwesupposehisrightarmbroughtacrossthebreast.Themotionsoftheheadandeyes,andoftherightarmofthefigure,aswellasthesoundechecareproducedbyothermechanismin the interior, and actuated at will by the man within. The whole of thismechanism—that is to say all the mechanism essential to the machine—ismost probably contained within the little cupboard (of about six inches inbreadth) partitioned off at the right (the spectators' right) of the maincompartment.In this analysis of the operations of the Automaton, we have purposely

avoidedanyallusiontothemannerinwhichthepartitionsareshifted,anditwillnowbereadilycomprehendedthatthispointisamatterofnoimportance,since,bymechanismwithintheabilityofanycommoncarpenter,itmightbeeffected in an infinity of different ways, and since we have shown that,however performed, it is performed out of the view of the spectators. OurresultisfoundeduponthefollowingobservationstakenduringfrequentvisitstotheexhibitionofMaelzel.I. The moves of the Turk are not made at regular intervals of time, but

accommodatethemselvestothemovesoftheantagonist—althoughthispoint(ofregularity)soimportantinallkindsofmechanicalcontrivance,mighthavebeenreadilybroughtaboutbylimitingthetimeallowedforthemovesoftheantagonist. For example, if this limit were threeminutes, the moves of theAutomatonmight bemade at anygiven intervals longer than threeminutes.The fact then of irregularity, when regularity might have been so easilyattained, goes to prove that regularity is unimportant to the action of theAutomaton—inotherwords,thattheAutomatonisnotapuremachine.2. When the Automaton is about to move a piece, a distinct motion is

observablejustbeneaththeleftshoulder,andwhichmotionagitatesinaslightdegree, the drapery covering the front of the left shoulder. This motioninvariablyprecedes,byabouttwoseconds,themovementofthearmitself—andthearmnever,inanyinstance,moveswithoutthispreparatorymotionintheshoulder.Nowlet theantagonistmoveapiece,andlet thecorrespondingmovebemadebyMaelzel,asusual,upontheboardoftheAutomaton.Then

let the antagonist narrowly watch the Automaton, until he detect thepreparatorymotion in the shoulder. Immediatelyupondetecting thismotion,and before the arm itself begins tomove, let himwithdraw his piece, as ifperceivinganerrorinhismanoeuvre.Itwillthenbeseenthatthemovementofthearm,which,inallothercases,immediatelysucceedsthemotionintheshoulder,iswithheld—isnotmade—althoughMaelzelhasnotyetperformed,ontheboardoftheAutomaton,anymovecorrespondingtothewithdrawaloftheantagonist.Inthiscase,thattheAutomatonwasabouttomoveisevident—andthathedidnotmove,wasaneffectplainlyproducedbythewithdrawaloftheantagonist,andwithoutanyinterventionofMaelzel.Thisfactfullyproves,1—thattheinterventionofMaelzel,inperformingthe

movesoftheantagonistontheboardoftheAutomaton,isnotessentialtothemovementsoftheAutomaton,2—thatitsmovementsareregulatedbymind—bysomepersonwhoseestheboardoftheantagonist,3—thatitsmovementsarenotregulatedbythemindofMaelzel,whosebackwasturnedtowardstheantagonistatthewithdrawalofhismove.3.TheAutomatondoes not invariablywin the game.Were themachine a

pure machine this would not be the case—it would always win.The principlebeing discovered by which a machine can be made to play agameof chess, an extension of the same principlewould enable it towin agame—afartherextensionwouldenableit towinallgames—that is, tobeatanypossiblegameof anantagonist.A little considerationwill convinceanyonethatthedifficultyofmakingamachinebeatallgames,Isnotintheleastdegreegreater,asregardstheprincipleoftheoperationsnecessary,thanthatofmakingitbeatasinglegame.IfthenweregardtheChess-Playerasamachine,we must suppose, (what is highly improbable,) that its inventor preferredleaving it incomplete to perfecting it—a supposition rendered still moreabsurd, when we reflect that the leaving it incomplete would afford anargument against the possibility of its being a pure machine—the veryargumentwenowadduce.4.Whenthesituationofthegameisdifficultorcomplex,weneverperceive

theTurkeithershakehisheadorrollhiseyes.Itisonlywhenhisnextmoveisobvious, or when the game is so circumstanced that to a man in theAutomaton's place there would be no necessity for reflection. Now thesepeculiar movements of the head and eyes are movements customary withpersons engaged in meditation, and the ingenious Baron Kempelen wouldhave adapted these movements (were the machine a pure machine) tooccasionsproperfortheirdisplay—thatis,tooccasionsofcomplexity.Butthereverse is seen to be the case, and this reverse applies precisely to oursupposition of aman in the interior.When engaged inmeditation about thegame he has no time to think of setting in motion the mechanism of theAutomaton by which are moved the head and the eyes. When the game,

however,isobvious,hehastimetolookabouthim,and,accordingly,weseetheheadshakeandtheeyesroll.5.Whenthemachineisrolledroundtoallowthespectatorsanexamination

ofthebackoftheTurk,andwhenhisdraperyisliftedupandthedoorsinthetrunkand thigh thrownopen, the interiorof the trunk is seen tobecrowdedwithmachinery. In scrutinizing thismachinerywhile theAutomatonwas inmotion,thatistosaywhilethewholemachinewasmovingonthecastors,itappearedtousthatcertainportionsofthemechanismchangedtheirshapeandposition in a degree too great to be accounted for by the simple laws ofperspective; and subsequent examinations convinced us that these unduealterations were attributable to mirrors in the interior of the trunk. Theintroductionofmirrorsamongthemachinerycouldnothavebeenintendedtoinfluence, inanydegree, themachinery itself.Theiroperation,whatever thatoperationshouldprovetobe,mustnecessarilyhavereferencetotheeyeofthespectator.Weatonceconcludedthatthesemirrorsweresoplacedtomultiplytothevisionsomefewpiecesofmachinerywithinthetrunksoastogiveittheappearanceofbeingcrowdedwithmechanism.Nowthedirectinferencefromthisisthatthemachineisnotapuremachine.Forifitwere,theinventor,sofar fromwishing itsmechanism to appear complex, andusingdeception forthepurposeofgivingitthisappearance,wouldhavebeenespeciallydesirousof convincing those who witnessed his exhibition, of the simplicity of themeansbywhichresultssowonderfulwerebroughtabout.6.Theexternalappearance,and,especially,thedeportmentoftheTurk,are,

whenwe consider themas imitations of life,but very indifferent imitations.Thecountenanceevincesnoingenuity,andissurpassed,initsresemblancetothe human face, by the very commonest of wax-works. The eyes rollunnaturally in the head, without any corresponding motions of the lids orbrows.Thearm,particularly,performs itsoperations inanexceedinglystiff,awkward,jerking,andrectangularmanner.Now,allthisistheresulteitherofinabilityinMaelzeltodobetter,orofintentionalneglect—accidentalneglectbeing out of the question, when we consider that the whole time of theingenious proprietor is occupied in the improvement of hismachines.Mostassuredlywemustnotrefertheunlife-likeappearancestoinability—foralltherestofMaelzel'sautomataareevidenceofhisfullabilitytocopythemotionsandpeculiaritiesoflifewiththemostwonderfulexactitude.Therope-dancers,forexample,areinimitable.Whentheclownlaughs,hislips,hiseyes,hiseye-brows,andeyelids—indeed,all thefeaturesofhiscountenance—areimbuedwith their appropriate expressions. In both him and his companion, everygesture is so entirely easy, and free from the semblance of artificiality, that,were it not for the diminutiveness of their size, and the fact of their beingpassedfromonespectatortoanotherprevioustotheirexhibitionontherope,itwouldbedifficult toconvinceanyassemblageofpersons that thesewooden

automatawerenotlivingcreatures.Wecannot,therefore,doubtMr.Maelzel'sability, and we must necessarily suppose that he intentionally suffered hisChessPlayer to remain the sameartificialandunnatural figurewhichBaronKempelen(nodoubtalsothroughdesign)originallymadeit.Whatthisdesignwasitisnotdifficulttoconceive.WeretheAutomatonlife-likeinitsmotions,thespectatorwouldbemoreapttoattributeitsoperationstotheirtruecause,(that is, to human agency within) than he is now, when the awkward andrectangularmanoeuvresconveytheideaofpureandunaidedmechanism.7. When, a short time previous to the commencement of the game, the

Automaton is wound up by the exhibiter as usual, an ear in any degreeaccustomedtothesoundsproducedinwindingupasystemofmachinery,willnotfailtodiscover,instantaneously,thattheaxisturnedbythekeyintheboxof the Chess-Player, cannot possibly be connected with either a weight, aspring,oranysystemofmachinerywhatever.Theinferencehereisthesameas inour lastobservation.Thewindingup is inessential to theoperationsoftheAutomaton,andisperformedwiththedesignofexcitinginthespectatorsthefalseideaofmechanism.8.WhenthequestionisdemandedexplicitlyofMaelzel—"IstheAutomaton

apuremachineornot?"hisreplyisinvariablythesame—"Iwillsaynothingabout it."Nowthenotorietyof theAutomaton,and thegreatcuriosity ithaseverywhereexcited,areowingmoreespeciallytotheprevalentopinionthatitis apuremachine, than to anyother circumstance.Of course, then, it is theinterest of the proprietor to represent it as a puremachine.Andwhatmoreobvious, and more effectual method could there be of impressing thespectatorswiththisdesiredidea,thanapositiveandexplicitdeclarationtothateffect? On the other hand, what more obvious and effectual method couldtherebeofexcitingadisbeliefintheAutomaton'sbeingapuremachine,thanby withholding such explicit declaration? For, people will naturally reasonthus,—It is Maelzel's interest to represent this thing a pure machine—herefuses to do so, directly, in words, although he does not scruple, and isevidently anxious to do so, indirectly by actions—were it actually what hewishes to represent it by actions,hewouldgladly avail himselfof themoredirect testimony of words—the inference is, that a consciousness of its notbeing a pure machine, is the reason of his silence—his actions cannotimplicatehiminafalsehood—hiswordsmay.9.When,inexhibitingtheinteriorofthebox,Maelzelhasthrownopenthe

doorNo.I,andalsothedoorimmediatelybehindit,heholdsalightedcandleatthebackdoor(asmentionedabove)andmovestheentiremachinetoandfrowith a view of convincing the company that the cupboardNo. 1 is entirelyfilled with machinery. When the machine is thus moved about, it will beapparent to anycarefulobserver, thatwhereas thatportionof themachinerynear the front door No. 1, is perfectly steady and unwavering, the portion

fartherwithin fluctuates, in avery slightdegree,with themovementsof themachine. This circumstance first aroused in us the suspicion that the moreremote portion of themachinerywas so arranged as to be easily slipped,enmasse, from its positionwhen occasion should require it. This occasionwehavealreadystatedtooccurwhenthemanconcealedwithinbringshisbodyintoanerectpositionupontheclosingofthebackdoor.10.SirDavidBrewsterstatesthefigureoftheTurktobeofthesizeoflife—

butinfactitisfarabovetheordinarysize.Nothingismoreeasythantoerrinournotionsofmagnitude.ThebodyoftheAutomatonisgenerallyinsulated,and,havingnomeansofimmediatelycomparingitwithanyhumanform,wesuffer ourselves to consider it as of ordinarydimensions.Thismistakemay,however,becorrectedbyobserving theChess-Playerwhen, as is sometimesthecase,theexhibiterapproachesit.Mr.Maelzel,tobesure,isnotverytall,butupondrawingnear themachine,hisheadwillbe foundat leasteighteeninchesbelowtheheadoftheTurk,althoughthelatter,itwillberemembered,isinasittingposition.11.Theboxbehindwhich theAutomaton isplaced, isprecisely three feet

sixincheslong,twofeetfourinchesdeep,andtwofeetsixincheshigh.Thesedimensions are fully sufficient for the accommodation of aman verymuchabove the common size—and the main compartment alone is capable ofholdinganyordinaryman in thepositionwehavementionedasassumedbythepersonconcealed.Asthesearefacts,whichanyonewhodoubtsthemmayprovebyactualcalculation,wedeemitunnecessarytodwelluponthem.Wewill only suggest that, although the top of the box is apparently a board ofaboutthreeinchesinthickness,thespectatormaysatisfyhimselfbystoopingand lookingupat itwhen themaincompartment isopen, that it is in realityvery thin.Theheightof thedraweralsowillbemisconceivedby thosewhoexamineitinacursorymanner.Thereisaspaceofaboutthreeinchesbetweenthetopofthedrawerasseenfromtheexterior,andthebottomofthecupboard—a space which must be included in the height of the drawer. Thesecontrivances tomaketheroomwithintheboxappear less thanitactually is,arereferribletoadesignonthepartoftheinventor,toimpressthecompanyagainwithafalseidea,viz.thatnohumanbeingcanbeaccommodatedwithinthebox.12. The interior of the main compartment is lined throughout

withcloth.Thisclothwesupposetohaveatwofoldobject.Aportionofitmayform,whentightlystretched, theonlypartitionswhichthere isanynecessityfor removing during the changes of the man's position, viz: the partitionbetweentherearofthemaincompartmentandtherearofthecupboardNo.1,and the partition between the main compartment, and the space behind thedrawerwhenopen.Ifweimaginethistobethecase,thedifficultyofshiftingthepartitionsvanishesatonce,ifindeedanysuchdifficultycouldbesupposed

underanycircumstancestoexist.Thesecondobjectoftheclothistodeadenand render indistinct all soundsoccasionedby themovementsof thepersonwithin.13.Theantagonist(aswehavebeforeobserved)isnotsufferedtoplayatthe

boardoftheAutomaton,butisseatedatsomedistancefromthemachine.Thereasonwhich,mostprobably,wouldbeassignedfor thiscircumstance, if thequestionwere demanded, is, thatwere the antagonist otherwise situated, hispersonwouldintervenebetweenthemachineandthespectators,andprecludethe latter from a distinct view. But this difficultymight be easily obviated,eitherbyelevatingtheseatsofthecompany,orbyturningtheendoftheboxtowards themduring thegame.The true causeof the restriction is, perhaps,verydifferent.Were theantagonist seated incontactwith thebox, thesecretwouldbeliabletodiscovery,byhisdetecting,withtheaidofaquickcar,thebreathingsofthemanconcealed.14. Although M. Maelzel, in disclosing the interior of the machine,

sometimes slightly deviates from the routine which we have pointed out,yetreeler inany instancedoeshesodeviate from it as to interferewithoursolution.Forexample,hehasbeenknowntoopen,firstofall,thedrawer—butheneveropens themaincompartmentwithout firstclosing thebackdoorofcupboardNo.1—heneveropensthemaincompartmentwithoutfirstpullingout the drawer—he never shuts the drawer without first shutting the maincompartment—he never opens the back door of cupboard No. 1 while themaincompartmentisopen—andthegameofchessisnevercommenceduntilthewholemachineisclosed.Nowifitwereobservedthatnever,inanysingleinstance, did M. Maelzel differ from the routine we have pointed out asnecessarytooursolution,itwouldbeoneofthestrongestpossibleargumentsincorroborationofit—buttheargumentbecomesinfinitelystrengthenedifweduly consider the circumstance that he does occasionally deviate from theroutinebutneverdoessodeviateastofalsifythesolution.15.TherearesixcandlesontheboardoftheAutomatonduringexhibition.

The question naturally arises—"Why are somany employed,when a singlecandle, or, at farthest, two, would have been amply sufficient to afford thespectatorsaclearviewoftheboard,inaroomotherwisesowelllitupastheexhibition room always is—when, moreover, if we suppose the machineapuremachine, there can be no necessity for somuch light, or indeed anylightatall,toenableittoperformitsoperations—andwhen,especially,onlyasinglecandle isplacedupon the tableof theantagonist?"The firstandmostobviousinferenceis,thatsostrongalightisrequisitetoenablethemanwithinto see through the transparent material (probably fine gauze) of which thebreastoftheTurkiscomposed.Butwhenweconsiderthearrangementofthecandles,anotherreasonimmediatelypresentsitself.Therearesixlights(aswehavesaidbefore) inall.Threeof theseareoneachsideof thefigure.Those

mostremotefromthespectatorsarethelongest—thoseinthemiddleareabouttwoinchesshorter—andthosenearest thecompanyabout twoinchesshorterstill—and the candles on one side differ in height from the candlesrespectivelyoppositeontheother,byaratiodifferentfromtwoinches—thatisto say, the longest candle on one side is about three inches shorter than thelongestcandleontheother,andsoon.Thusitwillbeseenthatnotwoofthecandles are of the same height, and thus also the difficulty of ascertainingthematerialof the breast of the figure (againstwhich the light is especiallydirected) is greatly augmented by the dazzling effect of the complicatedcrossings of the rays—crossings which are brought about by placing thecentresofradiationallupondifferentlevels.16.While theChess-Playerwas in possession ofBaronKempelen, itwas

more thanonceobserved, first, that an Italian in the suite of theBaronwasnevervisibleduringtheplayingofagameatchessbytheTurk,and,secondly,thattheItalianbeingtakenseriouslyill,theexhibitionwassuspendeduntilhisrecovery. This Italian professed a total ignorance of the game of chess,although all others of the suite playedwell. Similar observations have beenmade since the Automaton has been purchased by Maelzel. There is aman, Schlumberoer, who attends him wherever he goes, but who has noostensibleoccupationotherthanthatofassistinginthepackingandunpackingof the automata. Thisman is about themedium size, and has a remarkablestoopintheshoulders.Whetherheprofessestoplaychessornot,wearenotinformed. It isquite certain,however, thathe isnever tobe seenduring theexhibitionoftheChess-Player,althoughfrequentlyvisiblejustbeforeandjustaftertheexhibition.Moreover,someyearsagoMaelzelvisitedRichmondwithhisautomata,andexhibitedthem,webelieve, in thehousenowoccupiedbyM. Bossieux as a Dancing Academy. Schlumberger was suddenly taken ill,andduringhisillnesstherewasnoexhibitionoftheChess-Player.Thesefactsare well known to many of our citizens. The reason assigned for thesuspension of the Chess-Player's performances, was not the illnessof Schlumberger. The inferences from all this we leave, without farthercomment,tothereader.17.TheTurkplayswithhisleftarm.Acircumstancesoremarkablecannot

be accidental. Brewster takes no notice of it whatever beyond a merestatement,webelieve,thatsuchisthefact.TheearlywritersoftreatisesontheAutomaton,seemnottohaveobservedthematteratall,andhavenoreferenceto it. The author of the pamphlet alluded to by Brewster, mentions it, butacknowledges his inability to account for it. Yet it is obviously from suchprominentdiscrepanciesorincongruitiesasthisthatdeductionsaretobemade(ifmadeatall)whichshallleadustothetruth.ThecircumstanceoftheAutomaton'splayingwithhislefthandcannothave

connexionwiththeoperationsofthemachine,consideredmerelyassuch.Any

mechanicalarrangementwhichwouldcausethefiguretomove,inanygivenmanner,theleftarm—could,ifreversed,causeittomove,inthesamemanner,theright.Buttheseprinciplescannotbeextendedtothehumanorganization,whereinthereisamarkedandradicaldifferenceintheconstruction,and,atallevents, in the powers, of the right and left arms.Reflecting upon this latterfact,wenaturallyrefer the incongruitynoticeable in theChess-Player to thispeculiarityinthehumanorganization.Ifso,wemustimaginesomereversion—for theChess-Playerplayspreciselyasamanwouldnot.These ideas,onceentertained,aresufficientofthemselves,tosuggestthenotionofamanintheinterior. A fewmore imperceptible steps lead us, finally, to the result. TheAutomaton plays with his left arm, because under no other circumstancescouldthemanwithinplaywithhisright—adesideratumofcourse.Letus,forexample, imagine the Automaton to play with his right arm. To reach themachinerywhichmovesthearm,andwhichwehavebeforeexplainedto liejustbeneath theshoulder, itwouldbenecessaryfor themanwithineither touse his right arm in an exceedingly painful and awkward position, (viz.broughtupclosetohisbodyandtightlycompressedbetweenhisbodyandthesideoftheAutomaton,)orelsetousehisleftarmbroughtacrosshisbreast.Inneithercasecouldheactwiththerequisiteeaseorprecision.Onthecontrary,theAutomatonplaying, as it actually does,with the left arm, all difficultiesvanish.Therightarmofthemanwithinisbroughtacrosshisbreast,andhisrightfingersact,withoutanyconstraint,uponthemachineryintheshoulderofthefigure.Wedonotbelievethatanyreasonableobjectionscanbeurgedagainst this

solutionoftheAutomatonChess-Player.

THEPOWEROFWORDS

OINOS. Pardon, Agathos, the weakness of a spirit new-fledged withimmortality!AGATHOS.Youhavespokennothing,myOinos,forwhichpardonistobe

demanded.Notevenhereisknowledgethingofintuition.Forwisdom,askoftheangelsfreely,thatitmaybegiven!OINOS.Butinthisexistence,IdreamedthatIshouldbeatoncecognizant

ofallthings,andthusatoncebehappyinbeingcognizantofall.AGATHOS. Ah, not in knowledge is happiness, but in the acquisition of

knowledge!Inforeverknowing,weareforeverblessed;buttoknowallwerethecurseofafiend.OINOS.ButdoesnotTheMostHighknowall?AGATHOS.That(sinceheisTheMostHappy)mustbestilltheonething

unknowneventoHim.OINOS.But,sincewegrowhourlyinknowledge,mustnotatlastallthings

beknown?AGATHOS.Lookdown into the abysmal distances!—attempt to force the

gazedownthemultitudinousvistasofthestars,aswesweepslowlythroughthemthus—andthus—andthus!Eventhespiritualvision,isitnotatallpointsarrested by the continuous golden walls of the universe?—the walls of themyriads of the shining bodies thatmere number has appeared to blend intounity?OINOS.Iclearlyperceivethattheinfinityofmatterisnodream.AGATHOS.TherearenodreamsinAidenn—butitisherewhisperedthat,

ofthisinfinityofmatter,thesolepurposeistoaffordinfinitesprings,atwhichthesoulmayallaythethirsttoknow,whichisforeverunquenchablewithinit—sincetoquenchit,wouldbetoextinguishthesoul'sself.Questionmethen,myOinos, freely andwithout fear.Come!wewill leave to the left the loudharmonyof thePleiades,andswoopoutward from the throne into thestarrymeadowsbeyondOrion,where,forpansiesandviolets,andheart's—ease,arethebedsofthetriplicateandtriple—tintedsuns.OINOS.Andnow,Agathos,asweproceed,instructme!—speaktomeinthe

earth'sfamiliartones.Iunderstandnotwhatyouhintedtome,justnow,ofthemodesorofthemethodofwhat,duringmortality,wewereaccustomedtocallCreation.DoyoumeantosaythattheCreatorisnotGod?AGATHOS.ImeantosaythattheDeitydoesnotcreate.OINOS.Explain.AGATHOS.Inthebeginningonly,hecreated.Theseemingcreatureswhich

arenow,throughouttheuniverse,soperpetuallyspringingintobeing,canonlybeconsideredasthemediateorindirect,notasthedirectorimmediateresultsoftheDivinecreativepower.OINOS.Amongmen,myAgathos,thisideawouldbeconsideredheretical

intheextreme.AGATHOS.Amongangels,myOinos,itisseentobesimplytrue.OINOS.Icancomprehendyouthusfar—thatcertainoperationsofwhatwe

termNature, or the natural laws,will, under certain conditions, give rise tothat which has all the appearance of creation. Shortly before the finaloverthrow of the earth, there were, I well remember, many very successfulexperimentsinwhatsomephilosopherswereweakenoughtodenominatethecreationofanimalculae.AGATHOS.The cases ofwhich you speakwere, in fact, instances of the

secondarycreation—andoftheonlyspeciesofcreationwhichhaseverbeen,sincethefirstwordspokeintoexistencethefirstlaw.

OINOS.Are not the starryworlds that, from the abyss of nonentity, bursthourly forth into the heavens—are not these stars, Agathos, the immediatehandiworkoftheKing?AGATHOS.Letme endeavor,myOinos, to leadyou, stepby step, to the

conceptionIintend.Youarewellawarethat,asnothoughtcanperish,sonoactiswithoutinfiniteresult.Wemovedourhands,forexample,whenweweredwellersontheearth,and,insodoing,gavevibrationtotheatmospherewhichengirdled it.This vibrationwas indefinitely extended, till it gave impulse toevery particle of the earth's air, which thenceforward, and for ever, wasactuatedby theonemovement of thehand.This fact themathematiciansofour globewell knew.Theymade the special effects, indeed,wrought in thefluidbyspecial impulses, thesubjectofexactcalculation—sothat itbecameeasy to determine inwhat precise period an impulse of given extentwouldengirdle the orb, and impress (for ever) every atom of the atmospherecircumambient. Retrograding, they found no difficulty, from a given effect,undergivenconditions,indeterminingthevalueoftheoriginalimpulse.Nowthe mathematicians who saw that the results of any given impulse wereabsolutely endless—and who saw that a portion of these results wereaccuratelytraceablethroughtheagencyofalgebraicanalysis—whosaw,too,the facilityof the retrogradation—thesemensaw,at the same time, that thisspeciesofanalysisitself,hadwithinitselfacapacityforindefiniteprogress—that therewere no bounds conceivable to its advancement and applicability,exceptwithintheintellectofhimwhoadvancedorappliedit.Butatthispointourmathematicianspaused.OINOS.Andwhy,Agathos,shouldtheyhaveproceeded?AGATHOS. Because there were some considerations of deep interest

beyond. It was deducible from what they knew, that to a being of infiniteunderstanding—one to whom the perfection of the algebraic analysis layunfolded—therecouldbenodifficultyintracingeveryimpulsegiventheair—and the ether through the air—to the remotest consequences at any eveninfinitely remote epoch of time. It is indeed demonstrable that every suchimpulse given the air, must, in the end, impress every individual thing thatexists within the universe;—and the being of infinite understanding—thebeingwhomwe have imagined—might trace the remote undulations of theimpulse—tracethemupwardandonwardintheirinfluencesuponallparticlesofanmatter—upwardandonwardforeverintheirmodificationsofoldforms—or,inotherwords,intheircreationofnew—untilhefoundthemreflected—unimpressive at last—back from the throne of the Godhead. And not onlycouldsuchathingdothis,butatanyepoch,shouldagivenresultbeaffordedhim—shouldoneofthesenumberlesscomets,forexample,bepresentedtohisinspection—he could have no difficulty in determining, by the analyticretrogradation, to what original impulse it was due. This power of

retrogradationinitsabsolutefulnessandperfection—thisfacultyofreferringatallepochs,alleffectstoallcauses—isofcoursetheprerogativeoftheDeityalone—butineveryvarietyofdegree,shortoftheabsoluteperfection, is thepoweritselfexercisedbythewholehostoftheAngelicintelligences.OINOS.Butyouspeakmerelyofimpulsesupontheair.AGATHOS. In speaking of the air, I referred only to the earth; but the

generalpropositionhasreferencetoimpulsesupontheether—which,sinceitpervades,andalonepervadesallspace,isthusthegreatmediumofcreation.OINOS.Thenallmotion,ofwhatevernature,creates?AGATHOS.Itmust:butatruephilosophyhaslongtaughtthatthesourceof

allmotionisthought—andthesourceofallthoughtis—OINOS.God.AGATHOS. I have spoken to you, Oinos, as to a child of the fair Earth

whichlatelyperished—ofimpulsesupontheatmosphereoftheEarth.OINOS.Youdid.AGATHOS.Andwhile I thus spoke, did there not cross yourmind some

thoughtofthephysicalpowerofwords?Isnoteverywordanimpulseontheair?OINOS.Butwhy,Agathos,doyouweep—andwhy,ohwhydoyourwings

droop aswe hover above this fair star—which is the greenest and yetmostterribleofallwehaveencounteredinourflight?Itsbrilliantflowerslooklikeafairydream—butitsfiercevolcanoeslikethepassionsofaturbulentheart.AGATHOS.Theyare!—theyare!Thiswildstar—it isnowthreecenturies

since,withclaspedhands,andwithstreamingeyes,atthefeetofmybeloved—Ispokeit—withafewpassionatesentences—intobirth.Itsbrilliantflowersare the dearest of all unfulfilled dreams, and its raging volcanoes are thepassionsofthemostturbulentandunhallowedofhearts.

THECOLLOQUYOFMONOSANDUNA

"These;thingsareinthefuture."

Sophocles—Antig:

Una."Bornagain?"Monos. Yes, fairest and best beloved Una, "born again." These were the

words upon whosemystical meaning I had so long pondered, rejecting theexplanationsofthepriesthood,untilDeathhimselfresolvedformethesecret.Una.Death!

Monos.How strangely, sweetUna, you echomywords! I observe, too, avacillationinyourstep—ajoyousinquietudeinyoureyes.YouareconfusedandoppressedbythemajesticnoveltyoftheLifeEternal.Yes,itwasofDeathIspoke.Andherehowsingularlysoundsthatwordwhichofoldwaswonttobringterrortoallhearts—throwingamildewuponallpleasures!Una.Ah,Death,thespectrewhichsateatallfeasts!Howoften,Monos,did

weloseourselvesinspeculationsuponitsnature!Howmysteriouslydiditactas a check to human bliss—saying unto it "thus far, and no farther!" Thatearnestmutual love,myownMonos,whichburnedwithinourbosomshowvainlydidweflatterourselves,feelinghappyinitsfirstup-springing,thatourhappinesswouldstrengthenwithitsstrength!Alas!asitgrew,sogrewinourhearts thedreadof thatevilhourwhichwashurrying toseparateusforever!Thus,intime,itbecamepainfultolove.Hatewouldhavebeenmercythen.Monos.Speaknothereofthesegriefs,dearUna—mine,mine,forevernow!Una.Butthememoryofpastsorrow—isitnotpresentjoy?Ihavemuchto

sayyetofthethingswhichhavebeen.Aboveall,IburntoknowtheincidentsofyourownpassagethroughthedarkValleyandShadow.Monos.AndwhendidtheradiantUnaaskanythingofherMonosinvain?I

will be minute in relating all—but at what point shall the weird narrativebegin?Una.Atwhatpoint?Monos.Youhavesaid.Una. Monos, I comprehend you. In Death we have both learned the

propensity ofman to define the indefinable. Iwill not say, then, commencewiththemomentoflife'scessation—butcommencewiththatsad,sadinstantwhen, the fever having abandoned you, you sank into a breathless andmotionlesstorpor,andIpresseddownyourpallideyelidswiththepassionatefingersoflove.Monos.Onewordfirst,myUna,inregardtoman'sgeneralconditionatthis

epoch.Youwillrememberthatoneortwoofthewiseamongourforefathers—wiseinfact,althoughnotintheworld'sesteem—hadventuredtodoubtthepropriety of the term "improvement," as applied to the progress of ourcivilization. There were periods in each of the five or six centuriesimmediately preceding our dissolution, when arose some vigorous intellect,boldly contending for those principles whose truth appears now, to ourdisenfranchised reason, so utterly obvious—principles which should havetaught our race to submit to the guidance of the natural laws, rather thanattempt their control.At long intervals somemastermindsappeared, lookinguponeachadvanceinpracticalscienceasaretro-gradationinthetrueutility.Occasionally the poetic intellect—that intellect which we now feel to havebeenthemostexaltedofall—sincethosetruthswhichtouswereofthemost

enduring importancecouldonlybe reachedby thatanalogywhichspeaks inprooftonestotheimaginationaloneandtotheunaidedreasonbearsnoweight—occasionallydidthispoeticintellectproceedastepfartherintheevolvingofthevagueideaofthephilosophic,andfindinthemysticparablethattellsofthe treeof knowledge, andof its forbidden fruit, death-producing, a distinctintimationthatknowledgewasnotmeetformanintheinfantconditionofhissoul.And thesemen—thepoets—livingandperishingamid thescornof the"utilitarians"—of rough pedants, who arrogated to themselves a title whichcouldhavebeenproperlyappliedonlytothescorned—thesemen, thepoets,pondered piningly, yet not unwisely, upon the ancient dayswhen ourwantswerenotmoresimplethanourenjoymentswerekeen—dayswhenmirthwasaword unknown, so solemnly deep-toned was happiness—holy, august andblissfuldays,whenblueriversranundammed,betweenhillsunhewn,intofarforestsolitudes,primæval,odorous,andunexplored.Yetthesenobleexceptionsfromthegeneralmisruleservedbuttostrengthen

itbyopposition.Alas!wehadfallenuponthemostevilofallourevildays.The great "movement"—that was the cant term—went on: a diseasedcommotion, moral and physical. Art—the Arts—arose supreme, and, onceenthroned, cast chainsupon the intellectwhichhad elevated them topower.Man,becausehecouldnotbutacknowledge themajestyofNature, fell intochildish exultation at his acquired and still-increasing dominion over herelements. Even while he stalked a God in his own fancy, an infantineimbecility came over him. As might be supposed from the origin of hisdisorder, hegrew infectedwith system, andwith abstraction.Heenwrappedhimself in generalities. Among other odd ideas, that of universal equalitygainedground;andinthefaceofanalogyandofGod—indespiteoftheloudwarningvoiceofthelawsofgradationsovisiblypervadingallthingsinEarthanHeaven—wild attempts at anomni-prevalentDemocracyweremade.Yetthisevilsprangnecessarilyfromtheleadingevil,Knowledge.Mancouldnotbothknowandsuccumb.Meantimehugesmokingcitiesarose, innumerable.Greenleavesshrankbeforethehotbreathoffurnaces.ThefairfaceofNaturewasdeformedaswiththeravagesofsomeloathsomedisease.Andmethinks,sweet Una, even our slumbering sense of the forced and of the far-fetchedmighthavearrestedushere.Butnowitappears thatwehadworkedoutourowndestructionintheperversionofourtaste,orratherintheblindneglectofitsculture in theschools.For, in truth, itwasat thiscrisis that tastealone—that facultywhich, holding amiddlepositionbetween thepure intellect andthemoral sense, couldnever safelyhavebeendisregarded—itwasnow thattastealonecouldhaveledusgentlybacktoBeauty,toNature,andtoLife.ButalasforthepurecontemplativespiritandmajesticintuitionofPlato!Alasforthewhichhe justly regardedasanall-sufficienteducation for thesoul!Alasforhimandforit!—sincebothweremostdesperatelyneededwhenbothwere

mostentirelyforgottenordespised.Pascal,aphilosopherwhomweboth love,hassaid,howtruly!—"que tout

notre raisonnement se rèduit à céder au sentiment;" and it is not impossiblethatthesentimentofthenatural,hadtimepermittedit,wouldhaveregaineditsold ascendancy over the harshmathematical reason of the schools. But thisthingwasnot tobe.Prematurely inducedby intemperanceofknowledge theoldageof theworlddrewon.This themassofmankind sawnot,or, livinglustily although unhappily, affected not to see. But, for myself, the Earth'srecords had taught me to look for widest ruin as the price of highestcivilization.IhadimbibedaprescienceofourFatefromcomparisonofChinathesimpleandenduring,withAssyriathearchitect,withEgypttheastrologer,withNubia,morecraftythaneither,theturbulentmotherofallArts.InhistoryoftheseregionsImetwitharayfromtheFuture.Theindividualartificialitiesof the three latter were local diseases of the Earth, and in their individualoverthrowswehadseenlocalremediesapplied;butfortheinfectedworldatlarge I could anticipate no regeneration save in death. Thatman, as a race,shouldnotbecomeextinct,Isawthathemustbe"bornagain."Andnow itwas, fairest anddearest, thatwewrappedour spirits, daily, in

dreams.Nowitwasthat,intwilight,wediscoursedofthedaystocome,whentheArt-scarredsurfaceoftheEarth,havingundergonethatpurificationwhichalonecouldeffaceitsrectangularobscenities,shouldclotheitselfanewintheverdure and themountain-slopes and the smilingwaters ofParadise, andberenderedatlengthafitdwelling-placeforman:—formantheDeathpurged—formantowhosenowexaltedintellect thereshouldbepoisoninknowledgenomore—fortheredeemed,regenerated,blissful,andnowimmortal,butstillforthematerial,man.Una.WelldoIremembertheseconversations,dearMonos;buttheepochof

the fiery overthrow was not so near at hand as we believed, and as thecorruptionyouindicatedidsurelywarrantusinbelieving.Menlived;anddiedindividually. You yourself sickened, and passed into the grave; and thitheryourconstantUnaspeedilyfollowedyou.Andthoughthecenturywhichhassince elapsed, and whose conclusion brings us thus together once more,tortured our slumbering senses with no impatience of duration, yet, myMonos,itwasacenturystill.Monos.Say, rather,apoint in thevague infinity.Unquestionably, itwas in

theEarth'sdotagethatIdied.Weariedatheartwithanxietieswhichhadtheirorigininthegeneralturmoilanddecay,Isuccumbedtothefiercefever.Aftersomefewdaysofpain,andmanyofdreamydeliriumrepletewithecstasy,themanifestations of which you mistook for pain, while I longed but wasimpotenttoundeceiveyou—aftersomedaystherecameuponme,asyouhavesaid,abreathlessandmotionlesstorpor;andthiswastermedDeathbythosewhostoodaroundme.

Words are vague things.My condition did not deprivemeof sentience. Itappearedtomenotgreatlydissimilartotheextremequiescenceofhim,who,havingslumberedlongandprofoundly,lyingmotionlessandfullyprostrateinamidsummernoon, begins to steal slowlyback into consciousness, throughthe mere sufficiency of his sleep, and without being awakened by externaldisturbances.I breathed no longer. The pulseswere still. The heart had ceased to beat.

Volition had not departed, but was powerless. The senses were unusuallyactive, although eccentrically so—assuming often each other's functions atrandom.The taste and the smellwere inextricably confounded, and becameone sentiment, abnormal and intense. The rose-water with which yourtendernesshadmoistenedmylipstothelast,affectedmewithsweetfanciesofflowers—fantastic flowers, far more lovely than any of the old Earth, butwhoseprototypeswehaveherebloomingaroundus.Theeyelids,transparentandbloodless,offerednocomplete impediment tovision.Asvolitionwas inabeyance, the balls could not roll in their sockets but all objectswithin therangeof thevisualhemispherewereseenwithmoreor lessdistinctness; therays which fell upon the external retina, or into the corner of the eye,producing a more vivid effect than those which struck the front or interiorsurface.Yet, in the former instance, this effectwas so far anomalous that Iappreciated it only as sound—sound sweet or discordant as the matterspresenting themselves at my side were light or dark in shade—curved orangularinoutline.Thehearing,atthesametime,althoughexcitedindegree,was not irregular in action—estimating real soundswith an extravagance ofprecision, not less than of sensibility. Touch had undergone a modificationmore peculiar. Its impressions were tardily received, but pertinaciouslyretained, and resulted always in the highest physical pleasure. Thus thepressure of your sweet fingers upon my eyelids, at first only recognisedthroughvision,atlength,longaftertheirremoval,filledmywholebeingwitha sensual delight immeasurable. I say with a sensual delight. All myperceptionswerepurelysensual.Thematerialsfurnishedthepassivebrainbythe senseswere not in the least degreewrought into shape by the deceasedunderstanding.Ofpaintherewassomelittle;ofpleasuretherewasmuch;butofmoralpainorpleasurenoneatall.Thusyourwildsobsfloatedintomyearwithalltheirmournfulcadences,andwereappreciatedintheireveryvariationofsadtone;buttheyweresoftmusicalsoundsandnomore;theyconveyedtotheextinctreasonnointimationofthesorrowswhichgavethembirth;whilethelargeandconstanttearswhichfelluponmyface,tellingthebystandersofaheartwhichbroke,thrilledeveryfibreofmyframewithecstasyalone.AndthiswasintruththeDeathofwhichthesebystandersspokereverently,inlowwhispers—you,sweetUna,gaspingly,withloudcries.They attired me for the coffin—three or four dark figures which flitted

busily toandfro.As thesecrossed thedirect lineofmyvision theyaffectedmeasforms;butuponpassingtomysidetheirimagesimpressedmewiththeideaofshrieks,groans,andotherdismalexpressionsofterror,ofhorror,orofwo. You alone, habited in a white robe, passed in all directions musicallyaboutme.Thedaywaned;and,asitslightfadedaway,Ibecamepossessedbyavague

uneasiness—an anxiety such as the sleeper feels when sad real sounds fallcontinuouslywithinhisear—lowdistantbell-tones,solemn,atlongbutequalintervals, andminglingwithmelancholydreams.Night arrived; andwith itsshadows a heavy discomfort. It oppressedmy limbswith the oppression ofsome dull weight, and was palpable. There was also amoaning sound, notunlikethedistantreverberationofsurf,butmorecontinuous,which,beginningwith the first twilight, had grown in strength with the darkness. Suddenlylights were brought into the room, and this reverberation became forthwithinterruptedintofrequentunequalburstsofthesamesound,butlessdrearyandlessdistinct.Theponderousoppressionwasinagreatmeasurerelieved;and,issuing from the flame of each lamp, (for there were many,) there flowedunbrokenlyintomyearsastrainofmelodiousmonotone.Andwhennow,dearUna,approachingthebeduponwhichIlayoutstretched,yousatgentlybymyside,breathingodorfromyoursweetlips,andpressingthemuponmybrow,there arose tremulously within my bosom, and mingling with the merelyphysicalsensationswhichcircumstanceshadcalledforth,asomethingakintosentiment itself—a feeling that, half appreciating, half responded to yourearnest love and sorrow;but this feeling tookno root in thepulselessheart,and seemed indeed rather a shadow than a reality, and faded quickly away,first into extreme quiescence, and then into a purely sensual pleasure asbefore.Andnow,fromthewreckandthechaosoftheusualsenses,thereappeared

to have arisenwithinme a sixth, all perfect. In its exercise I found a wilddelight—yetadelight stillphysical, inasmuchas theunderstandinghad in itnopart.Motionintheanimalframehadfullyceased.Nomusclequivered;nonervethrilled;noarterythrobbed.Butthereseemedtohavesprungupinthebrain,thatofwhichnowordscouldconveytothemerelyhumanintelligenceevenanindistinctconception.Letmetermitamentalpendulouspulsation.Itwas themoral embodiment ofman's abstract idea of Time.By the absoluteequalization of this movement—or of such as this—had the cycles of thefirmamental orbs themselves, been adjusted. By its aid I measured theirregularities of the clock upon the mantel, and of the watches of theattendants.Theirtickingscamesonorouslytomyears.Theslightestdeviationsfrom the true proportion—and these deviations were omni-prævalent—affectedme justasviolationsofabstract truthwerewont,onearth, toaffectthemoralsense.Althoughnotwoofthetime-piecesinthechamberstruckthe

individual seconds accurately together, yet I had no difficulty in holdingsteadilyinmindthetones,andtherespectivemomentaryerrorsofeach.Andthis—this keen, perfect, self-existing sentiment of duration—this sentimentexisting(asmancouldnotpossiblyhaveconceivedittoexist)independentlyofanysuccessionofevents—thisidea—thissixthsense,upspringingfromtheashesoftherest,wasthefirstobviousandcertainstepoftheintemporalsouluponthethresholdofthetemporalEternity.Itwasmidnight;andyoustillsatbymyside.Allothershaddepartedfrom

thechamberofDeath.Theyhaddepositedmeinthecoffin.Thelampsburnedflickeringly;for thisIknewbythetremulousnessof themonotonousstrains.But,suddenlythesestrainsdiminishedindistinctnessandinvolume.Finallytheyceased.Theperfumeinmynostrilsdiedaway.Formsaffectedmyvisionno longer.Theoppressionof theDarknessuplifted itself frommybosom.Adull shock like that of electricity pervadedmy frame, andwas followed bytotallossoftheideaofcontact.Allofwhatmanhastermedsensewasmergedin the sole consciousness of entity, and in the one abiding sentiment ofduration. Themortal body had been at length strickenwith the hand of thedeadlyDecay.Yet had not all of sentience departed; for the consciousness and the

sentimentremainingsuppliedsomeof itsfunctionsbya lethargicintuition.Iappreciated the direful change now in operation upon the flesh, and, as thedreamerissometimesawareofthebodilypresenceofonewholeansoverhim,so,sweetUna,Istilldullyfeltthatyousatbymyside.So,too,whenthenoonof the second day came, I was not unconscious of thosemovementswhichdisplaced you from my side, which confined me within the coffin, whichdepositedmewithin thehearse,whichboreme to thegrave,which loweredmewithin it,whichheapedheavily themoulduponme,andwhich thus leftme, in blackness and corruption, to my sad and solemn slumbers with theworm.Andhere,intheprison-housewhichhasfewsecretstodisclose,thererolled

awaydaysandweeksandmonths;andthesoulwatchednarrowlyeachsecondas it flew, and, without effort, took record of its flight—without effort andwithoutobject.A year passed. The consciousness of being had grown hourly more

indistinct,andthatofmerelocalityhad,ingreatmeasure,usurpeditsposition.The ideaofentitywasbecomingmerged in thatofplace.Thenarrowspaceimmediatelysurroundingwhathadbeenthebody,wasnowgrowingtobethebodyitself.Atlength,asoftenhappenstothesleeper(bysleepanditsworldalone is Death imaged)—at length, as sometimes happened on Earth to thedeep slumberer,when some flitting light half startled him into awaking, yetleft him half enveloped in dreams—so to me, in the strict embrace of theShadow came that light which alone might have had power to startle—the

lightofenduringLove.MentoiledatthegraveinwhichIlaydarkling.Theyupthrew the damp earth. Upon my mouldering bones there descended thecoffinofUna.And now again all was void. That nebulous light had been extinguished.

That feeble thrill had vibrated itself into quiescence. Many lustra hadsupervened.Dusthadreturnedtodust.Thewormhadfoodnomore.Thesenseofbeinghadatlengthutterlydeparted,andtherereignedinitsstead—insteadofallthings—dominantandperpetual—theautocratsPlaceandTime.Forthatwhichwasnot—forthatwhichhadnoform—forthatwhichhadnothought—for thatwhich had no sentience—for thatwhichwas soulless, yet ofwhichmatterformednoportion—forallthisnothingness,yetforallthisimmortality,thegravewasstillahome,andthecorrosivehours,co-mates.

THECONVERSATIONOFEIROSANDCHARMION

Iwillbringfiretothee.

Euripides—Androm:

EIROS.WhydoyoucallmeEiros?CHARMIONSohenceforwardwillyoualwaysbecalled.Youmustforgettoo,myearthly

name,andspeaktomeasCharmion.EIROS.Thisisindeednodream!CHARMION.Dreamsarewithusnomore;—butofthesemysteriesanon.Irejoicetosee

youlookinglife-likeandrational.Thefilmoftheshadowhasalreadypassedfromoffyoureyes.Beofheartandfearnothing.Yourallotteddaysofstuporhaveexpiredand, to-morrow, Iwillmyself inductyou into the full joysandwondersofyournovelexistence.EIROS.True—I feel no stupor—none at all. The wild sickness and the terrible

darknesshaveleftme,andIhearnolongerthatmad,rushing,horriblesound,like the "voice of many waters." Yet my senses are bewildered, Charmion,withthekeennessoftheirperceptionofthenew.CHARMION.A fewdayswill removeall this;—but I fullyunderstandyou, and feel for

you.ItisnowtenearthlyyearssinceIunderwentwhatyouundergo—yettheremembrance of it hangs by me still. You have now suffered all of pain,however,whichyouwillsufferinAidenn.EIROS.InAidenn?CHARMION.InAidenn.EIROS.OhGod!—pityme,Charmion!—Iamoverburthenedwiththemajestyofall

things—oftheunknownnowknown—ofthespeculativeFuturemergedintheaugustandcertainPresent.CHARMION.Grapplenotnowwithsuchthoughts.To-morrowwewillspeakofthis.Your

mind wavers, and its agitation will find relief in the exercise of simplememories. Look not around, nor forward—but back. I am burning withanxietytohearthedetailsofthatstupendouseventwhichthrewyouamongus.Tellmeofit.Letusconverseoffamiliarthings,intheoldfamiliarlanguageoftheworldwhichhassofearfullyperished.EIROS.Mostfearfully,fearfully!—thisisindeednodream.CHARMION.Dreamsarenomore.WasImuchmourned,myEiros?EIROS.Mourned,Charmion?—ohdeeply.Tothatlasthourofall,therehungacloud

ofintensegloomanddevoutsorrowoveryourhousehold.CHARMION.And that lasthour—speakof it.Remember that, beyond thenaked factof

the catastrophe itself, I know nothing. When, coming out from amongmankind,IpassedintoNightthroughtheGrave—atthatperiod,ifIrememberaright, the calamitywhich overwhelmed youwas utterly unanticipated.But,indeed,Iknewlittleofthespeculativephilosophyoftheday.EIROS.The individual calamity was as you say entirely unanticipated; but

analogousmisfortuneshadbeenlongasubjectofdiscussionwithastronomers.Ineedscarcetellyou,myfriend,that,evenwhenyouleftus,menhadagreedto understand those passages in the most holy writings which speak of thefinaldestructionofallthingsbyfire,ashavingreferencetotheorboftheearthalone.Butinregardtotheimmediateagencyoftheruin,speculationhadbeenatfaultfromthatepochinastronomicalknowledgeinwhichthecometswere

divestedoftheterrorsofflame.Theverymoderatedensityofthesebodieshadbeenwellestablished.TheyhadbeenobservedtopassamongthesatellitesofJupiter,withoutbringingaboutanysensiblealterationeitherinthemassesorintheorbitsofthesesecondaryplanets.Wehadlongregardedthewanderersas vapory creations of inconceivable tenuity, and as altogether incapable ofdoinginjurytooursubstantialglobe,evenintheeventofcontact.Butcontactwas not in any degree dreaded; for the elements of all the comets wereaccurately known. That among themwe should look for the agency of thethreatened fiery destruction had been for many years considered aninadmissible idea. But wonders and wild fancies had been, of late days,strangely rife amongmankind; and, although it was onlywith a few of theignorant that actual apprehension prevailed, upon the announcement byastronomers of a new comet, yet this announcementwas generally receivedwithIknownotwhatofagitationandmistrust.Theelementsofthestrangeorbwereimmediatelycalculated,anditwasat

onceconcededbyallobservers,thatitspath,atperihelion,wouldbringitintoverycloseproximitywiththeearth.Thereweretwoorthreeastronomers,ofsecondary note, who resolutely maintained that a contact was inevitable. Icannotverywellexpresstoyoutheeffectofthisintelligenceuponthepeople.Forafewshortdaystheywouldnotbelieveanassertionwhichtheirintellectso long employed among worldly considerations could not in any mannergrasp. But the truth of a vitally important fact soonmakes itsway into theunderstandingofeventhemoststolid.Finally,allmensawthatastronomicalknowledgeliednot,andtheyawaitedthecomet.Itsapproachwasnot,atfirst,seeminglyrapid;norwasitsappearanceofveryunusualcharacter.Itwasofadull red, andhad little perceptible train.For sevenor eight dayswe sawnomaterial increase in its apparent diameter, and but a partial alteration in itscolor.Meantime, theordinaryaffairsofmenwerediscardedandall interestsabsorbedinagrowingdiscussion, institutedbythephilosophic, inrespect tothe cometary nature. Even the grossly ignorant aroused their sluggishcapacitiestosuchconsiderations.Thelearnednowgavetheirintellect—theirsoul—tonosuchpointsas theallayingoffear,or tothesustenanceof lovedtheory.Theysought—theypantedforrightviews.Theygroanedforperfectedknowledge.Truth arose in the purity of her strength and exceedingmajesty,andthewiseboweddownandadored.Thatmaterialinjurytoourglobeortoitsinhabitantswouldresultfromthe

apprehended contact, was an opinion which hourly lost ground among thewise;andthewisewerenowfreelypermittedtorulethereasonandthefancyofthecrowd.Itwasdemonstrated,thatthedensityofthecomet'snucleuswasfarlessthanthatofourrarestgas;andtheharmlesspassageofasimilarvisitoramongthesatellitesofJupiterwasapointstronglyinsistedupon,andwhichservedgreatlytoallayterror.Theologistswithanearnestnessfear-enkindled,

dweltuponthebiblicalprophecies,andexpoundedthemtothepeoplewithadirectnessandsimplicityofwhichnopreviousinstancehadbeenknown.Thatthefinaldestructionoftheearthmustbebroughtaboutbytheagencyoffire,was urged with a spirit that enforced every where conviction; and that thecomets were of no fiery nature (as all men now knew) was a truth whichrelievedall, inagreatmeasure, from theapprehensionof thegreatcalamityforetold.Itisnoticeablethatthepopularprejudicesandvulgarerrorsinregardto pestilences and wars—errors which were wont to prevail upon everyappearanceofacomet—werenowaltogetherunknown.Asifbysomesuddenconvulsive exertion, reason had at once hurled superstition fromher throne.Thefeeblestintellecthadderivedvigorfromexcessiveinterest.What minor evils might arise from the contact were points of elaborate

question. The learned spoke of slight geological disturbances, of probablealterations in climate, and consequently in vegetation, of possible magneticandelectricinfluences.Manyheldthatnovisibleorperceptibleeffectwouldin any manner be produced. While such discussions were going on, theirsubject gradually approached, growing larger in apparent diameter, and of amore brilliant lustre.Mankind grew paler as it came.All human operationsweresuspended.Therewasanepochinthecourseofthegeneralsentimentwhenthecomet

had attained, at length, a size surpassing that of any previously recordedvisitation.Thepeoplenow,dismissinganylingeringhopethattheastronomerswere wrong, experienced all the certainty of evil. The chimerical aspect oftheir terror was gone. The hearts of the stoutest of our race beat violentlywithintheirbosoms.Averyfewdayssufficed,however, tomergeevensuchfeelings in sentiments more unendurable We could no longer apply to thestrangeorbanyaccustomedthoughts.Itshistoricalattributeshaddisappeared.It oppressed us with a hideous novelty of emotion. We saw it not as anastronomicalphenomenonintheheavens,butasanincubusuponourhearts,anda shadowuponourbrains. Ithad taken,with inconceivable rapidity, thecharacter of a gigantic mantle of rare flame, extending from horizon tohorizon.Yetaday,andmenbreathedwithgreaterfreedom.Itwasclearthatwewere

already within the influence of the comet; yet we lived. We even felt anunusualelasticityofframeandvivacityofmind.Theexceedingtenuityoftheobjectofourdreadwasapparent;forallheavenlyobjectswereplainlyvisiblethrough it.Meantime,ourvegetationhadperceptiblyaltered; andwegainedfaith, from this predicted circumstance, in the foresight of thewise.Awildluxurianceoffoliage,utterlyunknownbefore,burstoutuponeveryvegetablething.Yet another day—and the evil was not altogether upon us. It was now

evidentthatitsnucleuswouldfirstreachus.Awildchangehadcomeoverall

men; and the first senseofpainwas thewild signal forgeneral lamentationandhorror.Thisfirstsenseofpainlayinarigorousconstrictionofthebreastandlungs,andaninsufferabledrynessoftheskin.Itcouldnotbedeniedthatour atmospherewas radically affected; the conformation of this atmosphereand thepossiblemodifications towhich itmightbesubjected,werenowthetopics of discussion. The result of investigation sent an electric thrill of theintensestterrorthroughtheuniversalheartofman.Ithadbeenlongknownthattheairwhichencircleduswasacompoundof

oxygen and nitrogen gases, in the proportion of twenty-one measures ofoxygen,andseventy-nineofnitrogenineveryonehundredoftheatmosphere.Oxygen,whichwastheprincipleofcombustion,andthevehicleofheat,wasabsolutelynecessarytothesupportofanimallife,andwasthemostpowerfuland energetic agent in nature. Nitrogen, on the contrary, was incapable ofsupportingeitheranimal lifeorflame.Anunnaturalexcessofoxygenwouldresult,ithadbeenascertainedinjustsuchanelevationoftheanimalspiritsaswe had latterly experienced. It was the pursuit, the extension of the idea,whichhadengenderedawe.Whatwouldbetheresultofatotalextractionofthe nitrogen? A combustion irresistible, all-devouring, omni-prevalent,immediate;—the entire fulfilment, in all theirminute and terrible details, ofthe fiery and horror-inspiring denunciations of the prophecies of the HolyBook.WhyneedIpaint,Charmion,thenowdisenchainedfrenzyofmankind?That

tenuityinthecometwhichhadpreviouslyinspireduswithhope,wasnowthesource of the bitterness of despair. In its impalpable gaseous character weclearlyperceivedtheconsummationofFate.Meantimeadayagainpassed—bearing away with it the last shadow of Hope. We gasped in the rapidmodificationoftheair.Theredbloodboundedtumultuouslythroughitsstrictchannels. A furious delirium possessed all men; and, with arms rigidlyoutstretched towards the threatening heavens, they trembled and shriekedaloud. But the nucleus of the destroyer was now upon us;—even here inAidenn, I shudder while I speak. Let me be brief—brief as the ruin thatoverwhelmed.For amoment therewas awild lurid light alone, visiting andpenetratingallthings.Then—letusbowdownCharmion,beforetheexcessivemajestyofthegreatGod!—then,therecameashoutingandpervadingsound,asiffromthemouthitselfofHIM;whilethewholeincumbentmassofetherinwhichweexisted,burstatonceintoaspeciesofintenseflame,forwhosesurpassingbrilliancyandall-fervidheateventheangelsinthehighHeavenofpureknowledgehavenoname.Thusendedall.

SHADOW—APARABLE

Yea,thoughIwalkthroughthevalleyoftheShadow:

—PsalmofDavid.

YEwhoreadarestillamongtheliving;butIwhowriteshallhavelongsincegone my way into the region of shadows. For indeed strange things shallhappen,andsecretthingsbeknown,andmanycenturiesshallpassaway,erethese memorials be seen of men. And, when seen, there will be some todisbelieve, and some todoubt, andyet a fewwhowill findmuch toponderuponinthecharactersheregravenwithastylusofiron.Theyearhadbeenayearofterror,andoffeelingsmoreintensethanterror

forwhichthereisnonameupontheearth.Formanyprodigiesandsignshadtaken place, and far and wide, over sea and land, the black wings of thePestilencewerespreadabroad.Tothose,nevertheless,cunninginthestars,itwasnotunknownthattheheavensworeanaspectofill;andtome,theGreekOinos, among others, itwas evident that nowhad arrived the alternation ofthatsevenhundredandninety-fourthyearwhen,attheentranceofAries,theplanet Jupiter is conjoined with the red ring of the terrible Saturnus. Thepeculiarspiritof theskies, if Imistakenotgreatly,made itselfmanifest,notonly in the physical orb of the earth, but in the souls, imaginations, andmeditationsofmankind.OversomeflasksoftheredChianwine,withinthewallsofanoblehall,ina

dimcitycalledPtolemais,we sat, atnight, a companyof seven.And toourchambertherewasnoentrancesavebyaloftydoorofbrass:andthedoorwasfashioned by the artisan Corinnos, and, being of rare workmanship, wasfastenedfromwithin.Blackdraperies,likewise,inthegloomyroom,shutoutfromour view themoon, the lurid stars, and the peopleless streets—but theboding and thememoryofEvil theywouldnot be so excluded.TherewerethingsaroundusandaboutofwhichIcanrendernodistinctaccount—thingsmaterialandspiritual—heavinessintheatmosphere—asenseofsuffocation—anxiety—and, above all, that terrible state of existence which the nervousexperiencewhenthesensesarekeenly livingandawake,andmeanwhile thepowersofthoughtliedormant.Adeadweighthunguponus.Ithunguponourlimbs—uponthehouseholdfurniture—uponthegobletsfromwhichwedrank;andallthingsweredepressed,andbornedownthereby—allthingssaveonlythe flames of the seven lamps which illumined our revel. Uprearingthemselvesintallslenderlinesoflight,theythusremainedburningallpallidandmotionless; and in themirrorwhich their lustre formed upon the roundtableofebonyatwhichwesat,eachofusthereassembledbeheldthepallorofhis own countenance, and the unquiet glare in the downcast eyes of hiscompanions.Yetwelaughedandweremerryinourproperway—whichwashysterical; and sang the songs ofAnacreon—which aremadness; and drankdeeply—although the purple wine reminded us of blood. For there was yetanothertenantofourchamberinthepersonofyoungZoilus.Dead,andatfull

length he lay, enshrouded; the genius and the demon of the scene.Alas! hebore no portion in our mirth, save that his countenance, distorted with theplague,andhiseyes,inwhichDeathhadbuthalfextinguishedthefireofthepestilence, seemed to take such interest in our merriment as the dead mayhaplytakeinthemerrimentofthosewhoaretodie.ButalthoughI,Oinos,feltthat the eyes of the departed were upon me, still I forced myself not toperceivethebitternessof theirexpression,andgazingdownsteadilyintothedepthsoftheebonymirror,sangwithaloudandsonorousvoicethesongsofthesonofTeios.Butgraduallymysongstheyceased,andtheirechoes,rollingafar off among the sable draperies of the chamber, became weak, andundistinguishable, and so faded away. And lo! from among those sabledraperieswherethesoundsofthesongdeparted,therecameforthadarkandundefinedshadow—ashadowsuchas themoon,whenlowinheaven,mightfashionfromthefigureofaman:butitwastheshadowneitherofmannorofGod,norofanyfamiliarthing.Andquiveringawhileamongthedraperiesoftheroom,itatlengthrestedinfullviewuponthesurfaceofthedoorofbrass.Buttheshadowwasvague,andformless,andindefinite,andwastheshadowneitherofmannorofGod—neitherGodofGreece,norGodofChaldaea,norany Egyptian God. And the shadow rested upon the brazen doorway, andunder thearchof theentablatureof thedoor,andmovednot,norspokeanyword,buttherebecamestationaryandremained.Andthedoorwhereupontheshadow restedwas, if I remember aright, over against the feet of theyoungZoilus enshrouded. But we, the seven there assembled, having seen theshadowasitcameoutfromamongthedraperies,darednotsteadilybeholdit,butcastdownoureyes,andgazedcontinuallyintothedepthsofthemirrorofebony.And at length I,Oinos, speaking some lowwords, demanded of theshadow its dwelling and its appellation. And the shadow answered, "I amSHADOW,andmydwellingisneartotheCatacombsofPtolemais,andhardbythosedimplainsofHelusionwhichborderuponthefoulCharoniancanal."Andthendidwe,theseven,startfromourseatsinhorror,andstandtrembling,andshuddering,andaghast,forthetonesinthevoiceoftheshadowwerenotthetonesofanyonebeing,butofamultitudeofbeings,and,varyingintheircadences from syllable to syllable fell duskly upon our ears in the well-rememberedandfamiliaraccentsofmanythousanddepartedfriends.

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