FOR THIS NUMBER ONLY, BY PARTICULAR REQUEST, THE OBSERVATIONS OF
SLOPE MACER, ESQ.
THEY were all sitting together in the library, round the great
walnut table, under the great bronze chandelier.
We're very proud of that chandelier by the way. Amelia designed it
herself, and Hiram had it moulded out in Paris. It has spreading
tree-branches; in between the forks lie a Turk, an Indian, a German,
and a Calmuck, each smoking a long pipe, and out of the pipe-bowl
comes the jet of flame. They do look just as natural as life: that's
a fact. The Indian was drawn for Sam Batchelder; and the German for
me. His is a good likeness; mine isn't. They tell Sam that bronze
suits his style of face; I live in mortal fear that some body'll
call us both a couple of gas-blowers; and so avail myself of this
chance to head them all off, by originalling it myself. Remember,
good folks, it has been done.
Well, there were the girls: Amelia, Bertha Sue, Little Sugar, and
one or two others, not forgetting the immortal Nella Satanella, all
sewing and snipping things with scissors, or knitting and hauling
in the runaway worsted balls, every once in a while, with a jerk,
as if they were children wandered off. Only Nella lay back in a
great arm-chair snapping a little riding-whip she'd picked up, and
doing nothing. Nella don't know that I've noticed it, but I _have_;
and that's a way she has when other women are stitching and talking
away, as all the sisterhood always do, all the world over, after a
jolly tea-fight, of counting herself out, lying back on a chair,
and eyeing them all round. There is nothing in it aggravating or
conceited or insulting. Nothing vain or sarcastic. Nothing at all
to take hold of, except once in a while a strange light as of a
coming smile about to make daylight, but which never comes. And
this smile-light seems to strike within as if she were watching
her_self_, and amused at it. Nothing--that's to say, only one thing.
And that One is in its dimness something Awful.
I'm the only one who has seen it. I see that girl always watching
human nature in every body, as one watches kittens at play. Children
interest her like grown people, and she puts questions to watch the
answers, and quietly raises topics to see how her little and great
puppets will work. Where she loves and respects people she does
this in such a way as to give them pleasant emotions and dignify
them. I've seen her make Sam Batchelder say for an hour things just
as creditable to his heart and head as any thing could be: and Sam
hardly knowing it either. I've seen her draw out of Amelia the most
artless indications of kindness and dignity. She's found out, and
a strange art it is, through years of thought, just what keys to
touch in people to bring out certain sounds. When she doesn't love,
she goes in with the same interest, and treats herself to a good
jolly monkey-show of miserable follies in red jackets dancing to the
organ. Behind it all, even when Nella's with the wisest and best
of people, is that mysterious philosophy, or whatever it is, which
keeps comparing and comparing it all to other things laid away....
But just speak a word, and up Nella flies, all prompt and ready and
spry; full of fun and jollity, ripe for any thing.
'Now,' said Bertha Sue, 'talking of young men--that is to say,
_very_ yong men--I don't like them; that is, if they're not _nice_.
I have known some real good fellows who'd keep you laughing all the
time, and never vex you with a folly; and then there're so many
who make such _geese_ of themselves: think if a lady only looks at
them----'
'My dear child,' quoth Sugar, 'that would depend a great deal, I
should think, on how the lady looked at the young man. Now the other
evening at the opera--'twas really _too_ absurd in me, I declare----'
(Now Little Sugar is very conscientious, and always puts a story
through, even at her own expense, if she has once begun it, thinking
it wrong to disappoint people.)
'Well, I declare I couldn't help it; but there was a young gentleman
in the parquette who looked _exactly_ like my brother. And I looked
straight at him the _longest_ time; indeed I don't know what I could
have been thinking of----I'm sure _you'd_ have looked at him just
in that way if he'd been like _your_ brother, wouldn't you?' quoth
Sugar innocently, and addressing Nella.
'Oh! immensely,' replied that most unlikely of all young ladies.
'Well, he kept staring at me, in the most annoying way, all the
evening, after that. Oh! it was just _too_ provoking. I'd have given
_worlds_ to've been home. He didn't know though that he looked like
my brother. I do declare, I'd give any thing if he could only have
known that it wasn't _him_ that I was looking at.'
'You should have put next morning in the 'Personals' of the
_Herald_,' quoth Sam, 'an advertisement, saying that 'The young
lady in white satin cloak, white lace bonnet, and crimson roses,
a fall of blonde, lavender kid gloves, and lavender silk dress,
with little ruffles, pearl and white silk fan, and mother-of-pearl
opera-glasses, wishes it to be understood by the young gentleman,
at whom she stared for several minutes, during the last 'Martha,'
that this was done _solely_ in consequence of his extraordinary
resemblance to a relative, and not because she was in the slightest
degree attracted by the gentleman himself.''
'Feel better, Sam?' inquired Hiram.
'What wonderful power of extempore composition!' quoth Nella.
'Well,' said Sam, 'I'll print it any how.'
'Oh! please don't!' said Sugar. 'Indeed I'd rather you wouldn't.
I know it's very kind of you, but I think I'd prefer not having
it printed. I--I--wouldn't like putting you to such trouble and
expense, you know.' And here Sugar looked anxiously and wistfully
up at Sam, as if he were pronouncing her death-sentence. There
was a general burst of indignation from all the ladies present,
and Sam caught it severely. It doesn't take long for half-a-dozen
women to bring one man to order, and they generally do it in about
half-time when the offence is that of setting masculine quizzing
against feminine weakness and tenderness. If you have any doubts,
my Christian KNICKERBOCKER friend, just try it on in the next
tea-battle where you may find yourself. Just a little. Pick out
the favorite--and three decent women never get together but what
one tacitly becomes the pet--and undertake to quiz her, especially
on some point in which the others are conscious of weakness! Don't
_say_ any thing, but just _try_ it. That's all. If you happen to
find that it pays, just drop a line to me, address KNICKERBOCKER
Office, or _Vanity Fair_.
'As regards YOUNG MEN,' said I, (I must have spoken very
impressively, for all the girls at once slung up their heads as if
I'd fired a revolver;) 'as regards _Young_ Men, I'm certain that
there isn't a sect in the whole community whose views, feelings and
ideas--above all, whose _sufferings_, are so little thought of or
described by writers.
'When a man gets to be old enough to _marry_, then he's immensely
interesting. _Then_ he figures every where. He's tenor in the opera,
first lover in the play, first fiddle in the whole orchestra of
society. _He's_ provided for.
'But as for the youth who hasn't graduated----'
(Here one or two of the young ladies picked up their sewing, and
began tumbling the work-basket.)
'As for him whose beard is growing, and who hasn't 'got his
set,' one may say that nobody in existence is treated with such
inhumanity. Among all, except the most refined and cultivated
people, it seems to be perfectly fashionable to establish a raw on
him and snap it. If a girl is an angel to all the world beside,
she can't resist the temptation of snubbing him like a devil. The
poor youths in their earlier frock-coats! They feel the torture so
keenly, and generally so foolishly. All they can do is to 'get mad.''
'And _then_,' said Nella, 'how demure and astonished Mademoiselle
looks; how perfectly unable to understand _such_ rudeness! Yes,
goodness knows, I _was_ guilty of such folly often enough myself,
when I was a school-miss. In fact, I've gone to my room and cried
after it; but I couldn't resist the temptation. It's delightful to
feel and exercise power; particularly when you haven't much. There
are two kinds of power developed at a gymnasium: that of nervous
activity, (which is partly strength, you know;) and solid strength,
which is altogether itself and nothing else. Now we girls come
to full exercise of our activity before the poor boys get their
strength. The fact holds good mentally, as well as physically;
indeed, I wouldn't give much for any fact that hadn't a physical
basis. Well, the boys grow up, marry the girls----'
'And take their revenge.'
'Exactly. But I've often thought that something might be done in
education to relieve the sensitiveness and suffering of men at that
age. Talk about boyhood, and the influences of childhood! bless
your soul, the age I speak of has a hundred chances to make or mar
where boyhood has one. Then it is, if ever, that the influences of
woman should be most felt: those of cultivated women of the world
especially. Haven't I seen that a few words of real interest and
kindness from such a woman to a youth have changed the whole course
of his thoughts for months? All his teachers and professors together
couldn't give him in a year the impetus that she can with a few
words of flattery and encouragement. He needn't be in love with her
to have this miracle effected; and if he _is_, so much the better,
for if there is any one thing which induces a youth to leave all
that's bad and mean and degrading, it is the being in love. There's
nothing that so stimulates the manly mind to become great and noble.
Haven't I heard one of the greatest men who ever lived say, that
the only times when he had ever been a good man were when he was in
love?'
'I declare, Nella,' said Amelia, 'you talk as sympathetically as if
you'd been a young man yourself.'
'So I have been,' said Nella, with enthusiasm. 'I've been every
thing that _ever_ suffered. An Italian monk told me once that he
had been CHRIST again and again; that by intense meditations on HIS
sufferings he had felt all the pains of the crucifixion. If there is
a human suffering which I haven't known it has not been for want of
effort. Ah! only strive with all your might to sink down to sympathy
with agony, find out its causes, and you'll begin almost to think
there's no such thing as guilt. Folly there _is_----'
'But I don't think it's manly in young men to suffer,' quoth Bertha
Sue, very naturally.
'My dear child,' replied Nella, 'my sister's children used to be
mortally ashamed of catching cold because a nurse ridiculed their
coughing. Yet they caught cold quite the same. What the _world_
thinks of young men, and what it expects of them, causes a vast
amount of hypocrisy. The very natural and creditable yearning for
enjoyment, which is keenest in life at that age, is unnoticed
or sternly repressed. It isn't, as a general rule, before a man
becomes half-blasé that he _begins_ to be knowing or free enough
to be happy: and then he must drink when no longer thirsty. Bless
me, why, didn't Dr. Maybaum tell us yesterday that when he was at
college the _only_ provisions made there were to secure study and
'moral demeanor?' 'The boys would find amusement for themselves
soon enough,' said the gouty, opium-steeped, old Incapable of a
President. And they _did_ find amusement: the amusements of fools
and blackguards combined. Ah! for my part I don't see why as much
pains shouldn't be given to supplying youth with recreation, as
with 'education,' as people call education. Nature craves pleasure
as much as food. I am only a woman, consequently I have been barred
as in a cage my life long; but I have good strong eyes, and I have
seen something through those bars. I tell you that, with all the
suffering on earth--bereavements, poverty, hunger, disease and
oppression, that which goads man most is the craving for pleasure,
for recreation, or 'distraction.' Teachers and parents close their
eyes to the existence of this terrible power, and moralists either
treat it as an evil or try to feed it on gruel. The Puritans all
hold it to be the downright inspiration of the devil: as they do
every thing which is beautiful and joyous like it. Ah! if they could
feel as I do, what a stupendous flood of joy and of beauty life is
capable of taking in! What _might_ be done for the young if the true
power of their minds was understood and provided for! What men of
genius, what great and _good_ men might spring up by thousands, who
now go to destruction, if it were only understood that enjoyment
and pleasure, health and beauty, properly cared for, may be made
the great stimulants to exertion. Yes, and to nobility of mind and
tenderness. Ah! the sufferings of lonely young hearts in silent
chambers for want of this.'
Nella's voice quivered with deep emotion as she spoke. I saw that
she had touched one of the depths of her religion of humanity. As
she went on, her fingers played with, and she unconsciously placed
on her head a beautiful long Arab cap--a fez, which Hiram used to
wear. Suddenly she sprang up, and as her ocean of black hair rolled
down in ripples to one side, she threw up one beautiful white arm,
and said: 'The dear boys, if I only had the governing of them all!
Ah! I tell you I would captain them gloriously up to manhood! I have
heart enough for _all_ who suffer, for _all_ who fail to get their
rights; and the greatest of human rights is to attain the fullest
development of _every_ capacity. _Heart!!_ If giving a kiss with
all my heart and soul to any youth living, would be a memory of joy
to him for years, would lead him on like a light, and be a sweet
memory in sorrow, I would _give_ it: freely as a cup of water to the
parched pilgrim. Freely! Yes, to thousands on thousands. 'I _mean_
it.''
Oh! that you could have seen the tears rise in her great black eyes.
Or how beautiful Nella was when she said this. Wild, and strange,
and inspired, as though she saw far in advance some beautiful solemn
coming promise, too great for words. Then graceful as a cloud she
sank down into the chair, and covered her forehead with her hands.
And there was not one present who did not regard her with respect
and love. She is a wonder, this Nella. One who in stormy times would
be one of the women of the Nation and of History.
But it was not long before all the good folks had subsided into the
old calm. The girls went on working: there was the old occasional
snip of scissors and bump of worsted balls as they run over the
floor; and as there is considerable Liberty Hall in our circle, I
lit a segar, and rolling back into the big chair, (such a giant old
nest of elastic softness you never did,) I began to _think_.
First I turned to what Nella had been saying of the small amount of
care the world's genius takes of the growing generation, just at the
time when it needs it most.
Then what a raft of things--here I made a short discursion off,
trying to recal a story I once heard of a nigger preacher, who was
also a boatman, and who exhorted his hearers to flee frum de raft to
come--de great big raft all on fiah dat'll smash yer boats and burn
'em up--glory!
Then I came up to time again, remembering what the world didn't care
for, and what a wholesale careless, head-over-heels way it has of
caring for what it does attend to, and crack up and idolize. There's
history for instance. I'm not smart--wish I was--but one thing
_don't_ humbug me, and that's the fashion people teach the boys
history.
'All the individuals _on our side_, in all great times, were all
saints. I don't believe it,' I spoke aloud.
'I wouldn't believe it, Mr. Sloper,' said Nella, smiling. 'Every
revolution had some heroes in it and some fools.'
'A great many of every body, I shouldn't wonder,' I replied. 'Some
of the cream and a great deal of skim. Lots of notional people, such
as turn Mormons; lots of small-pattern folk, who do the loud talk
for their corner-grocery; any quantity of owly follows, who've got
hold of a Tom Paine or a Volney, and nothing much else--the same
sort who get moony over tracts or perpetual motion. We lose sight of
them, though. Yet they make up an immense lot of the rank and file
in all great carryings-on which have a new idea in the middle.'
'There was a _canaille_ on both sides in the great Protestant
Reformation,' said Nella.
('French for tag-rag and bob-tail,' quoth Hiram.)
'And I suppose that even the Christians of the first age had one.'
'Bet your Cashmere on that,' quoth Sam. 'But you mustn't say it.'
'Mustn't say the _truth_?' I replied. 'Was the American Revolution
a lie, because it had Arnolds, and Tories, and all sorts of
scallawags?'
'Come,' said Nella, 'this puts me in mind of something. I've got in
my desk the queerest poem! It's on this subject. It tries to show,
if I remember right, that even in a time which we always think of as
being without low and vulgar people, there were probably some who
went into ignorant extremes and abused every thing. Sam, suppose you
read it.'
And in a few minutes she produced the document. It had been given
to a friend of hers by the editor of the _Family Pudding_, who
couldn't quite make any thing out of it, except that the style was
inelegant and the moral obscure, and who had therefore indorsed it
as 'rejected.'
And turning himself round, so as to face the great multitude, Sam
began:
The Legend of Crispin.