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CORNELL
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY
FROM
Charles William Wason
THE
CONTINENTAL MONTHLY.
DEVOTED TO
Literature and National Policy.
VOL. II.
JULY-DECEMBER, 1862.
New York: JOHN F. TROW, 50 GREENE STREET. (FOR THE PROPRIETORS).
1862.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1862, by
JOHN F. TROW,
For the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for
the Southern District of New York.
JOHN F. TROW,
Printer, Stereotyper and Electrotyper, 48 & 50 Greene Street, New York.
ENTERED, according to an Act of Congress, in the year 1882 by JAMES B.
GILMORE, in the Clerk of the Office of the District Court of the United
States for the Southern District of New-York.
JOHN A. GRAY PRINTER
The Continental Monthly:
Devoted to Literature and National Policy.
CONTENTS.----No. VII
What shall be the end? 1
Bone Ornaments, 5
The Molly O'Molly Papers. No. V., 6
Glances from the Senate-Gallery, 10
Maccaroni and Canvas. No. V., 14
For the Hour of Triumph, 26
In Transitu, 27
Among the Pines, 28
Was He Successful? 48
Newbern as it was and is, 58
Our Brave Times, 62
The Crisis and the Parties, 65
I Wait, 69
Taking the Census, 70
The Peloponnesus in March, 74
Adonium, 82
Polytechnic Institutes, 83
Slavery and Nobility vs. Democracy, 89
Watching the Stag, 105
Literary Notices, 106
Editor's Table, 109
SLAVERY AND NOBILITY vs. DEMOCRACY.
This article, written by a gentleman who, for fifteen years, was one of
the most prominent citizens of Texas, will be found worthy of most
attentive perusal.
WATCHING THE STAG
An unfinished Poem by FITZ-JAMES O'BRIEN, we give as it came wet from
the pen of its lamented author.
INDEX TO VOLUME II.
PAGE
Among the Pines. Edmund Kirke, 28, 127
An Englishman in South Carolina, 689
Adorium, 82
A True Romance. Isabella McFarlane, 190
A Physician's Story, 667
Astor and the Capitalists of New York. W. Frothingham, 207
A Merchant's Story. Edmund Kirke, 232, 328, 451, 560, 719
American Student Life, 266
Author Borrowing, 285
Anthony Trollope on America, 302
A Military Nation. Charles G. Leland, 453
A Southern Review. Charles G. Leland, 466
Aurora. Hon. Horace Greeley, 622
Bone Ornaments. Charles G. Leland, 5
Cambridge and its Colleges, 662
Corn is King, 237
Editor's Table, 109, 241, 369, 481, 638, 750
Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-Two, U.S. Johnson, 442
For the Hour of Triumph, 26
Flower Arranging, 444
Glances from the Senate Gallery. G.W. Towle, 10, 154
Gold. Hon. E.J. Walker, 743
Helter-Skelter Papers, 175
Hopeful Tackett. Richard Wolcott, 262
Huguenots of New York City. Hon. G.P. Disosway, 193
Henry Thomas Buckle, 253
In Transitu, 27
I Wait, 69
John McDonogh. Alexander Walker, 165
John Bull to Jonathan, 265
John Neil, 295
La Vie Poetique, 679
Literary Notices, 106, 238, 866, 478, 636, 747
London Fogs and London Poor, 404
Maccaroni and Canvas. Henry P. Leland, 14, 144, 290, 383, 591
Newbern as it Was and Is. F. Kidder, 58
National Unity. Hon. Horace Greeley, 357
On Guard. John G. Nicolay, 706
Our Brave Times, 62
Our Wounded. C.K. Tuckerman, 465
One of the Million. Caroline Chesebro', 541
Polytechnic Institutes. Charles G. Leland, 83
Railway Photographs. Isabella McFarlane, 708
Rewarding the Army. Charles G. Leland, 161
Reminiscences of Andrew Jackson, 318
Red, Yellow, and Blue, 535
Slavery and Nobility _vs._ Democracy. Lorenzo Sherwood, 89
Southern Rights, 143
Sketches of the Orient. Hon. J.P. Brown, 179
Shakspeare's Richard III. Rev. E.G. Holland, 320
Shoulder Straps. Henry Morford, 342
Sir John Suckling, 397
Southern Hate of the North. Horace Greeley, 448
Something we have to Think of, and to Do. C.S. Henry, LL.D., 657
Stewart, and the Dry Goods Trade of New York. W. Frothingham, 528
Thank God for All. Charles G. Leland, 718
The Molly O'Molly Papers, 6, 200, 257
The Crisis and the Parties. C.G. Leland, 65
Taking the Census, 70
The Ash Tree. Charles G. Leland, 682
The Obstacles to Peace. A Letter to an Englishman.
Hon. Horace Greeley, 714
The Freed Men of the South. Hon. F.P. Stanton, 730
The Peloponnesus in March, 74
The Last Ditch. Charles G. Leland, 159
The Bone of our Country, 198
The Soldier and the Civilian. C.G. Leland, 281
The Negro in the Revolution, 324
The Children in the Wood. Henry Morford, 354
The Constitution as It Is. C.S. Henry, LL.D., 377
Tom Winter's Story. G.W. Chapman, 416
The White Hills in October. C.M. Sedgwick, 423
The Union. Hon. E.J. Walker, 457, 572, 641
The Causes of the Rebellion. Hon. F.P. Stanton, 513, 695
The Wolf Hunt. Charles G. Leland, 580
The Poetry of Nature, 581
The Proclamation, 603
The Press in the United States. Hon. F.L. Stanton, 604
The Homestead Bill. Hon. R.J. Walker, 627
Up and Act. Charles G. Leland, 314
Unheeded Growth. John Neil, 534
What shall be the End? Hon. J.W. Edmonds, 1
Was He Successful? 48, 218, 360, 470, 610, 734
Watching the Stag. Fitz-James O'Brien, 105
Witches, Elves and Goblins, 184
Wounded. Henry P. Leland, 206
Word-Murder, 524
Vol. II.--July, 1862.--No. 1.
WHAT SHALL BE THE END?
If we look to the development of slavery the past thirty years, we shall
see that the ideas of Calhoun respecting State Sovereignty have had a
mighty influence in gradually preparing the slave States for the course
which they have taken. Slavery, in its political power, has steadily
become more aggressive in its demands. A morbid jealousy of Northern
enterprise and thrift, with the contrast more vivid from year to year,
of the immeasurable superiority of free labor, has brought about a
growing aversion, in the South, to the free States, until with every
opportunity presented for pro-slavery extension, there has resulted the
present organized combination of slave States that have seceded from the
Union. When the mind goes back to the early formation of our Government
and the adoption of the Constitution, it will be found that an entire
revolution of opinion and feeling has taken place upon the subject of
slavery. From being regarded, as formerly, an evil by the South, it is
now proclaimed a blessing; from being viewed as opposed to the whole
spirit and teachings of the Bible, it is now thought to be of divine
sanction; from being regarded as opposed to political liberty, and the
elevation of the masses, the popular doctrine now is, that slavery is
the corner-stone of republican institutions, and essential for a manly
development of character upon the part of the white population. Formerly
slavery was looked upon as peculiarly pernicious to the diffusion of
wealth and the progress of national greatness; now the South is
intoxicated with ideas of the profitableness of slave labor, and the
power of King Cotton in controlling the exchanges of the world. And the
same change has taken place in relation to the African slave-trade.
While the laws of the land brand as piracy the capture of negroes upon
their native soil, and the transportation of them over the ocean, it is
nevertheless true that a mighty change in Southern opinion has taken
place in respect to the character of this business. It is not looked
upon with the same horror as formerly. It is apologized for, and in some
places openly defended as a measure indispensable to the prosperity of
the cotton States. As a natural inference from the theory of those who
hold to the views of Calhoun upon State sovereignty, the doctrine of
coercion in any form by the Federal Union is denounced, and to attempt
to put it in practice even so far as the protection of national property
is concerned, is construed into a war upon the South. Thus, while it is
perfectly proper for the slave States to steal, and plunder the nation
of its property, to leave the Union at their pleasure, and to do every
thing in their power to destroy the unity of the National Government, it
is made out that to attempt to recover the property of the Federal Union
is unjustifiable aggression upon the slave States. Thus we see eleven
States in a confederate capacity openly making war upon the Federal
Government, and compelling it either into a disgraceful surrender of its
rights as guaranteed by the Constitution, or war for self-defense. Fort
Sumter was not allowed to be provisioned, nor was there any disposition
manifested to permit its possession in any manner honorable to the
Government, although its exclusive property. It must be surrendered
unconditionally, or be attacked.
The worst feature connected with the secession movement is the hot haste
with which the most important questions connected with the interests of
the people are hurried through. The ordinance of secession is not fairly
submitted to the people, but a mere oligarchy of desperate men
themselves assume to declare war, and exercise all the prerogatives of
an independent and sovereign government. And yet the terms submitted in
the Crittenden Resolutions as a peace-offering to the seceding States to
win them back by concessions from the North, present a spectacle quite
as mournful for the cause of national unity and dignity as the open
rebellion of the seceding States. The professed aim of these States is
either a reconstruction of the Constitution in a way that shall
nationalize slavery and give it supreme control, or a forcible
disruption of the Union. What are the terms proposed that alone appear
to satisfy the South? They may be briefly comprehended in a short
extract from a speech delivered by Senator Wilson, of Massachusetts,
February 21, 1861:
'But the Senator from Kentucky asks us of the North by irrepealable
constitutional amendments to recognize and protect slavery in the
Territories now existing, or hereafter acquired south of thirty-six
degrees, thirty minutes; to deny power to the Federal Government to
abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, in the forts,
arsenals, navy-yards, and places under the exclusive jurisdiction
of Congress; to deny the National Government all power to hinder
the transit of slaves through one State to another; to take from
persons of the African race the elective franchise, and to purchase
territory in South-America, or Africa, and send there, at the
expense of the Treasury of the United States, such free negroes as
the States may desire removed from their limits. And what does the
Senator propose to concede to us of the North? The prohibition of
slavery in Territories north of thirty-six degrees and thirty
minutes, where no one asks for its inhibition, where it has been
made impossible by the victory of Freedom in Kansas, and the
equalization of the fees of the slave Commissioners.'
Here we have the true position in which the free States are placed
toward the slaveholding States. Seven States openly throw off all
allegiance to the Federal Union, do not even profess to be willing to
come back upon any terms, and then such conditions are proposed by the
other slaveholding States as leads to the repudiation of the
Constitution in its whole spirit and import upon the subject of slavery.
The alternative, in reality, is either civil war or the surrender of the
Constitution into the hands of pro-slavery men to be molded just as it
may suit their convenience. The price they ask for peace is simply the
liberty to have their own way, and that the majority should be willing
to submit to the minority. They aim for a reconstruction of the Union
that shall incorporate the Dred Scott decision into the whole policy of
the Government and make slavery the supreme power of the country, and
all other interests subservient to it. The North has its choice of two
evils--unconditional and unqualified submission to the demands of
slavery, or civil war. It is expected, since the country has yielded
step by step to the exactions of slavery ever since the Government was
instituted, that the free States will keep on yielding until the South
has nothing more to ask for, and the North has nothing more to give.
With such a servile compliance, the free States are assured that they
will have no difficulty in keeping the peace. But the question to be
decided is: Is such a kind of peace worth the price demanded for it? May
it not be true that great as is the evil of civil war, it is less an
evil than an unresisting acquiescence to the exactions of slavery, and
the admission that any State that pleases can leave the Union? The
theory of secession involves, if admitted, a greater disaster to the
Federal Union than even the slow eating at its vitals of the cancer of
slavery. National unity, one country, the sovereignty of the
Constitution, are all sacrificed by secession. It involves in it either
the worst anarchy or the worst despotism. United, the States can stand,
and command the respect of the world, but secession is an enemy to the
country, the most cruel. Rev. Dr. Breckinridge, of Kentucky, most
forcibly says:
'Every man who has any remaining loyalty to the nation, or any hope
and desire for the restoration of the seceding States to the
Confederacy, must see that what is meant by the outcry against
coërcion is in the interest, of secession, and that what is meant
is, in effect, that the Federal Government must be terrified or
seduced into complete coöperation with the revolution which it was
its most binding duty to have used all its power and influence to
prevent.'
Jefferson Davis, in his late message, says: 'Let us alone, let us go,
and the sword drops from our hands.' But what does this involve? The
admission of the right of secession, which, as has been proved, is fatal
to all national unity and preservation. Even if this arrogant demand was
complied with, would peace be thus possible? Would not the breaking up
of the Union involve the people in calamities that no patience, or
wisdom upon the part of the North could avert? Remember a long border in
an open country, stretching from the Atlantic, possibly even to the
Pacific, is to be defended. Will the bordering people sink down from
war, and all its exasperations, and become as peaceful as lambs?
Constituted as human nature now is, will the dissolution of the Union
create with the great North and South the experience of millennium
prediction, 'The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall
lie down with the kid, and the calf and the young lion and fatling
together; and a little child shall lead them'? Here is a line crossed by
great rivers; we are to shut up the mouth of the Chesapeake bay, on Ohio
and Western Virginia; we are to ask the Western States to give up the
mouth of the Mississippi to a foreign power. Is it reasonable to suppose
that no provocation will occur on this long frontier? Will no slaves run
away? What is to be gained by a dissolution of the Union? Not peace; for
if, when united, there exists such cause of dissension, the evil will be
tenfold greater when separated. Not national aggrandizement, for
division brings weakness, imbecility, and a loss of self-respect; it
invites aggressions from foreign powers, and compels to submission to
insults that otherwise would not be given. Not general competence, for
the South is quite as dependent upon the North as the North upon the
South.
Disunion is a violent disruption of great material interests that now
are wedded together. The dream of separate State sovereignty, our great
Union split into two or more confederacies, prosperous and peaceable, is
Utopian. So far from the secession doctrine carried out leading to peace
and prosperity, it can only lead to perpetual war and adversity. The
request to be 'let alone,' is simply a request that the nation should
consent to see the Constitution and Union overthrown, slavery
triumphant, and the great problem that a free people can not choose its
own rulers against the will of a minority prove a disgraceful failure.
It is a request that a nation should purchase a temporary peace at the
price of all that is dear to its liberty and self-respect. The arrogance
of the demand '_to be let alone_,' is only equaled by the iniquity of
the means resorted to, to break up the best Government under the sun.
The question of disunion, of separate State sovereignty, was fully
discussed by our fathers. Thus Hamilton, whose foresight history has
proved to be prophetic, says:
'If these States should be either wholly disunited, or only united
in partial Confederacies, a man must be far gone in Utopian
speculations, who can seriously doubt that the subdivisions into
which they might be thrown would have frequent and violent contests
with each other. To presume a want of motives for such contests, as
an argument against their existence, would be to forget that men
are ambitious, vindictive, and rapacious. To look for a
continuation of harmony between a number of independent,
unconnected sovereignties, situated in the same neighborhood, would
be to disregard the uniform course of human events, and to set at
defiance the accumulated experience of ages.'
From a consideration of the true import of the Constitution, in relation
to slavery and the fallacy and wickedness of the doctrine of Secession,
we are now prepared to deduce, from what has been said, the following
reflections: First, the war in which the nation is now plunged should
have strictly for its great end, the restoration of the Constitution and
the Union to its original integrity; all side issues, all mere party
questions should be now merged in one mighty effort, one persevering and
self-sacrificing aim to maintain the Constitution and the Union. As
essential for this purpose, it is indispensable that all the rights
guaranteed to loyal citizens in the slave States should be respected.
The reason is two-fold. First, this war, upon the part of the North, is
for the maintenance of the Constitution as our fathers gave it to us.
Its object is not a crusade against slavery. What may be the results of
the war in relation to slavery is one thing; what should be the simple
purpose of the North is another. That this war, however it may turn,
will be disastrous to slavery, is evident from a great variety of
considerations. But that we should pretend to fight for the Constitution
and the Union, and yet against its express provisions, in respect to
those held in bondage by loyal citizens, is simply to act a part
subversive of the true intent of the Constitution. To violate its
provisions, in relation to loyal citizens South, is in the highest
degree impolitic and suicidal. It is the constant aim of the enemies now
in armed rebellion against the Union, to misrepresent the North upon
this very point. By systematic lying, they have induced thousands South
to believe that the election of Lincoln was designed as an act of war
upon slave institutions, and to subvert the Constitution that protects
them in all that they call their property.
There is nothing that the rebels South are more anxious to see than the
Government adopting a policy that will give them a plausible pretense
for continuing in rebellion. The Constitution places the local
institution of slavery under the exclusive control of those States where
it exists. Its language, faithfully interpreted, is simply this: Your
own domestic affairs you have a right to manage as you please, so long
as you do not trespass upon the Union, or seek its ruin. All loyal
citizens should be encouraged to stand by the Union in every Southern
State, with the unequivocal declaration that all their rights will be
respected, and that their true safety, even as noblest interests, must
lie in upholding the North in the effort made to put down the vilest
rebellion under the sun. My second reflection is, that those South, who
are in armed rebellion against the Constitution and the Union, must make
up their minds to take what the fortune of war gives them. This
rebellion should be bandied without gloves. The North should permit
nothing to stand in the way of a complete and permanent triumph. As
Northern property is all confiscated South; as Union men there are
treated with the utmost barbarity; as nothing held by the lovers of the
Union is respected, the greatest injury in the end to the Constitution
and the Union is, an unwise clemency to armed rebellion. In this
death-struggle to test the vital question, whether the majority shall
rule, let there be no holding back of money or men. Dear as war may be,
a dishonorable peace will prove much dearer. Great as may be the
sufferings of the camp and the battle-field, yet the prolonged tortures
of a murdered Union, a violated Constitution, and Secession rampant over
the country, will be found to be greater. My third reflection is, that
the main cause of our civil war is slavery. It has now assumed gigantic
proportions of mischief, and with its hand upon the very throat of the
Constitution and the Union, it seeks its death. The worst feature
connected with it has ever been, that it is satisfied with no
concession, and the more it has, the more it asks. By the very admission
of the chiefs of this rebellion, it is confessedly got up for the sake
of slavery, and to make it the corner-stone of the new Confederacy of
States. The real issue involved by the rebellion is, complete
independence of the North, the dissolution of the Union, and exclusive
possession of all the territories south of Mason and Dixon's line; or
reconstruction upon such conditions as would result in the repudiation
of the old Constitution, the nationalization of slavery, and giving
complete political control to a slaveholding minority of the country.
This rebellion has placed the North where it must conquer, for its own
best interests, and dignity, and the salvation of free institutions. It
must conquer, to command future friendship and that respect without
which Union itself is a mockery. Let the South see that the North can
not be beaten, and the universal consciousness of this fact will command
an esteem, and the useful fear of committing offense, that will do more
to keep the peace than all the abject professions or humble submissions
in the world. Having found out that the North not only is conscious of
its rights, but has the willingness and the ability to defend them, it
is certain that the country will yet have as much peace, general thrift,
and noble enterprise with the onward march of virtue and intelligence,
as may be reasonably expected of any community upon the face of the
earth.
BONE ORNAMENTS.
Silent the lady sat alone:
In her ears were rings of dead men's bone;
The brooch on her breast shone white and fine,
'Twas the polished joint of a Yankee's spine;
And the well-carved handle of her fan,
Was the finger-bone of a Lincoln man.
She turned aside a flower to cull,
From a vase which was made of a human skull;
For to make her forget the loss of her slaves,
Her lovers had rifled dead men's graves.
Do you think I'm describing a witch or ghoul?
There are no such things--and I'm not a fool;
Nor did she reside in Ashantee;
No--the lady fair was an F.F.V.
THE MOLLY O'MOLLY PAPERS.
V.
'Hearts are trumps,' is a gambler's cant phrase. That depends on the
game you are playing. In many of the games of life the true trump cards
are Diamonds; which, according to the fortune-teller's lore, stand for
wealth. Indeed, Hearts are by many considered so valueless that they are
thrown away at the very outset; whereas they should, like trumps, only
be played as a last resort. No trick that can be won with any other
card, should be taken with a heart--the card will be gone and nothing to
show for it. If you wish wealth, win it if you can--honestly, of
course--but don't throw in the heart. Are you ambitious--would you win
honor? Very well, if for political honor you can endure it to be spit
upon by the crowd, to have all manner of abuse heaped on you and your
_forbears_ to the remotest generation--a ceremony that in Africa follows
the election, but is 'preliminary to the crowning,' but in this country
is preliminary to the election--but if you can make up your mind to pass
through this ordeal, well and good--but don't throw in the heart.... Yet
in games on which is staked all that is worth playing for, 'hearts _are_
trumps;' and he who holds the lowest card, stands a better chance of
winning than he who has none, though in his hand may be all the aces of
the others, diamonds included. But, lest I go too far beyond the
analogy--as I might ignorantly do, being unskilled in the many games of
cards--I will drop the figurative.... Keep your heart for faith, love,
friendship, for God, your country, and truth. And where the heart is
given, it should be unreservedly. Its allegiance is too often withheld
where it is due, yet this is better than a half-way loyalty; there
should be no _if_, followed by self-interest.... The seal of confederate
nobles, opposed to some measures of Peter IV. of Aragon, 'represents the
king sitting on his throne, with the confederates kneeling in a
suppliant attitude, around, to denote their loyalty and unwillingness to
offend. But in the back-ground, tents and lines of spears are
discovered, as a hint of their ability and resolution to defend
themselves.' ... This kind of allegiance no true heart will ever give.
I take it for granted that you have a heart--not merely anatomically
speaking, an organ to circulate the blood, but a something that prompts
you to love, to self-sacrifice, to scorn of meanness, and, it may be, to
good, honest hatred. All metals can be separated from their ores; but
meanness is inseparable from some natures, so it is impossible to hate
the sin without hating the sinner; we can't, indeed, conceive of it in
the abstract. I don't mean hate in a malignant sense--here I may as well
express my scorn of that sly hatred that is too cowardly to knock a man
down, but quietly trips him up.
It is well enough for those who think that 'life is a jest,' (and a
bitter, sarcastic one it must be to them,) to mock at all nobler
feelings and sentiments of the heart. None do they more contemn than
friendship. I would not 'sit in the seat' of these 'scornful,' however
they may have found false friends. Yet every man capable of a genuine
friendship himself, will in this world find at least one true friend.
Oxygen, which comprises one fifth of the atmosphere, is said to be
highly magnetic; and any ordinary, healthy soul can extract magnetism
enough from the very air he breathes to draw at least one other soul.
Some people have an amazing power of absorption and retention of this
magnetism. You feel irresistibly drawn toward them--and it is all right,
for they are noble, true souls. There is a great difference between
their attractive force and that kind of 'power of charming' innocence
that villainy often has--just as I once saw a cat charm a bird, which
circled nearer and nearer till it almost brushed the cat's whiskers--and
had he not been chased away, he would have that day daintily
lunched--and there would have been one songster less to join in that
evening's vespers.
False----s there are--I will not call them false _friends_--this noun
should never follow that adjective. To what shall I liken them--to the
young gorilla, that even while its master is feeding it, looks
trustingly in his face and thrusts forth its paw to tear him? Who blames
the gorilla? Torn from its dam, caged or chained, it owes its captor a
grudge. To the serpent? The story of the warming of the serpent in the
man's bosom, is a mere fable. No man was ever fool enough to warm a
serpent in his bosom. And the serpent never crosses the path of man if
he can help it. The most deadly is that which is too sluggish to get out
of his way--therefore bites in self-defense. And the serpent generally
gives some warning hiss, or a rattle. Indeed, almost every animal gives
warning of its foul intent. The shark turns over before seizing its
prey. But the false friend (I am obliged to couple these words) takes
you in without changing his side.... In truth, a man, if he has a vice,
be it treachery or any other, goes a little beyond the other animals,
even those of which it is characteristic. We say, for instance, of a
treacherous man, _He is a serpent_; but it would be hyperbole to call a
serpent _a treacherous man_.
But these false friends, who deceive you out of pure malignity, who
would rather injure you than not, who, perhaps, have an old, by you
long-forgotten, grudge, and become your apparent friends to pay you
back--these are few. Human nature, with all its depravity, is seldom so
completely debased. But there are many who are only selfishly your
friends. When you most need their friendship, where is it? When some
great calamity sweeps over you, and, bowed and weakened, you would lean
on this friendship, though it were but a 'broken reed,' you stretch
forth your hand--feel but empty space.
Then there are some who let go the hand of a friend because they feel
sure of him, to grasp the extended hand of a former enemy. Politicians,
especially, do this. An enemy can not so easily be transformed into a
friend. As in those paintings of George III., on tavern-signs, after the
Revolution changed to George Washington, there will still be the same
old features.... The opposite of this is what every generous nature has
tried. To revive a dying friendship, this is impossible. If you find
yourself losing your friendship for a person, there must be some reason
for it. If the former dear name is becoming indistinct on the tablet of
your heart, the attempt to re-write it will entirely obliterate it. It
is said that a sure way to obliterate any writing, is to attempt to
re-write it.... But it is not true that 'hot love soon cools.' With all
my faults--and to say that I am an O'Molly is to admit that I have
faults, and I am not sure that I would wish to be without them. To speak
paradoxically, a fault in some cases does better than a virtue--as on
some organs 'the wrong note in certain passages has a better effect than
the right.' But, as I was saying, with all my faults, I have never yet
changed toward a friend; I will not admit even to the ante-chamber of my
heart a single thought untrue to my friend. Though it is true my friends
are so few that I could more than count them on my fingers, had I but
one hand.... And these few friends--what shall I say of them? They have
become so a part of my constant thoughts and feelings, so a part of
myself, that I can not project them--if I may so speak--from my own
interior self, so as to portray them. Have you not such friends? Are
there none whom to love has become so a _habit_ of your life that you
are almost unconscious of it--that you hardly think of it, any more than
you think--_'I breathe'_?
There is probably no one who has not some time in his or her life felt
the dreariness of fancied friendliness. I can recall in my own
experience at least one time when this dreary feeling came over me. It
was during a twilight walk home from a visit. I can convey to you no
idea of the utter loneliness of the unloved feeling; it seemed that not
even the love of God was mine, or if it was, there was not individuality
enough in it; it was so diffused; this one, whom I disliked--that
insignificant person, might share in it. I know not how long I indulged
in these thoughts, with my eyes on the ground, or seeing all things 'as
though I saw them not,' but when I did raise them to take cognizance of
any thing, there was, a few degrees above the horizon, the evening star;
it shone as entirely on me as though it shone on me _exclusively_. It is
thus, I thought, with _His_ love; thus it melts into each individual
soul. Such gentle thoughts as these, long after the star had sunk behind
the western mountains, were a calm light in my soul. And I awoke the
next morning, the old cheerful
MOLLY O'MOLLY.
VI.
I have often thought what splendid members of the diplomatic corps women
would make, especially married women. As much delicate management is
required of them, they have as much financiering to do as any minister
plenipotentiary of them all. Let a woman once have an object in view,
and 'o'er bog, or steep, through strait, rough, dense or rare; with
head, hands, or feet, _she_ pursues _her_ way, and swims, or sinks, or
wades, or creeps, or flies;' but _she attains her object_.
You poor, hood-winked portion of humanity--man--you think you know
woman; that she 'can't pull the wool over your eyes.' Just take a
retrospective view. Did your wife ever want any thing that she didn't
somehow get it? Whether a new dress, or the dearest secret of your soul,
she either, Delilah-like, wheedled it out of you, or, in a passion, you
almost _flung_ it at her, as an enraged monkey flings cocoa-nuts at his
tormentor.
And how she has changed your habits, has turned the course of your life,
made it flow in the channel _she_ wished, instead of, as heretofore,
'wandering at its own sweet will,' as the gently-winding but useless
brook has been converted into a mill-race.
There is Mr. Jones. Before he married, as free and easy a man as ever
smoked a meerschaum. Mrs. Jones is considered a pattern woman; but of
that you can judge for yourself. Her first reformation was in regard to
his club, from which he returned home late, redolent of brandy-punch,
and lavish of _my dears_. All she could say to him had no effect, till,
after the birth of little Nellie, she joined a Ladies' Reading Society,
meeting on his club evening; he wouldn't leave the baby to the care of a
servant, consequently staid at home himself.
He was also in the habit of resorting to the gymnasium, ostensibly for
exercise, as he was dyspeptic; but his wife suspected it was more to
meet his old cronies. Finding retrenchment necessary, and looking on
gymnastics somewhat as a Yankee looks on a fine stream that turns no
mill, she dismissed one of the servants, and so arranged it that the
surplus strength that formerly so ran to waste should make the fires,
rock the cradle, and split certain hickory logs. Very soon Mr. Jones,
who is a lawyer, found his business so much increased that he was
obliged to remain in his office all day, except at meal-time; after
which, however heartily he might have eaten, he never complained of
indigestion. With this, thrifty Mrs. Jones was delighted, till one day
she surprised him in his office, enveloped in tobacco-smoke, with
elevated feet, reading a nice new novel; you may be sure that after
that, she insisted on the exercise. As their family increased, thinking
still further retrenchment necessary, she gently broached the
relinquishing of the meerschaum. Finding him obstinate in his
opposition, she one day accidentally broke it. It was one that he had
been coloring for years; he had devoted time and attention to it, that,
if properly directed, might have made him a German philosopher, an
antiquary, or a profound theologian; or, if devoted to his law studies,
would have fitted him for Chief-Justice of the United States.
The countryman who mistook for a bell-rope the cord attached to a
shower-bath, was not more astonished at the result of pulling it, than
she was at the result of this trifling accident. Such an overwhelming
torrent of abuse as was poured on her devoted head; such an array of
offenses as was marshaled before her; Banquo's issue wasn't a
circumstance to the shadowy throng. She had recourse to woman's only
means of assuaging the angry passions of man--tears, (you know the
region of constant precipitation is a perpetual calm;) but these,
instead of operating like oil poured on the troubled waters, were rather
like oil thrown on the fire. Pleading her delicate health, she hinted
that his unkindness would kill her, and that, when she was gone, her
sweet face would haunt him. Muttering something about one consolation,
ghosts couldn't speak till spoken to, and he was sure he wouldn't break
the spell of silence, he picked up his hat and strode out of the house,
slamming the door after him. For a while, Mrs. Jones was struck with
consternation; she felt somewhat as the woman must have felt who, in
attempting to pull up a weed, overturned the monument that crushed her;
and, though not quite crushed by the weight of Mr. Jones's indignation,
she only resolved to give no more tugs at the weed that had taken such
deep root in his heart; and that, if he brought home another meerschaum,
(which he did that evening,) it was best to ignore its existence. Mrs.
Jones says she believes that the meerschaum absorbs 'the disagreeable'
of a man's temper, as it is said to absorb that of tobacco; at least,
her husband is never so serene as when smoking one. Indeed, it is said
that the fiercest birds of prey can be tamed by tobacco-smoke.
Don't think that after this little _contretemps_ all Mrs. Jones's
authority was at an end; no, indeed; though she had, by stroking the
wrong way the docile, domestic animal, roused him into a tiger, she
hastened to smooth him down; and time would fail me to give even a list
of her reforms.
After having heard her story, as I did, chiefly from her own lips, my
wonder at the immense Union army, raised on such short notice, was
considerably diminished. 'Extremes meet.' Probably Union and disunion
sentiments met in the mind of many a volunteer Jones. Then, too, I used
to wonder at the ease with which men apparently forget their buried
wives, and marry again; and, as I then had a great respect for the race,
thought their hearts must be very rich, new affections spring up with
such amazing rapidity; like the soil of the tropics, whose vegetation is
hardly cut down before there is a new, luxuriant growth. I've, however,
since come to the conclusion, that the poor man, somehow feeling that he
must marry, chooses in a manner at random, having, the first time, taken
the greatest care, and 'caught a Tartar,' in the same sense that the man
had with whom the phrase originated, that is, _the Tartar had caught
him_.
In my childhood I was particularly fond of the hoidenish amusement of
jumping out of our high barn-window, and landing on the straw
underneath. The first few times I went to the edge--then drew
back--looked again--almost sprang--again stepped back--till finally I
took the leap. Thus old bachelors take the matrimonial leap--not so
widowers--how is it to be accounted for? Well, brother man, (for this is
the nearest relationship to you that I can claim,) you do about as well
in this way as in any other. You are destined to be taken in as
effectually as was Jonah, when he made that 'exploration of the
interior,' or, as was the fly, when Dame Spider's 'parlor' proved to be
a dining-room.
Sam Slick says that 'man is common clay--woman porcelain.' Alas! there
is but little genuine porcelain. It is a pity that you couldn't contrive
to have a few jars before matrimony, to crack off some of the glazing,
and show the true character of the ware.
And you, sister woman, learn a lesson from the 'tiny nautilus,' which,
'by yielding, can defy the most violent ragings of the sea.' And, though
man is so nicely adapted to your management that it is obviously the end
of his creation, remember Mrs. Jones's trifling miscalculation in regard
to the meerschaum, and--_'N'évéillez pas le chat qui dort.'_
Abruptly yours, MOLLY O'MOLLY.
GLANCES FROM THE SENATE-GALLERY.
The comparative excellence of different periods of eloquence and
statesmanship affords a subject of curious and profitable contemplation.
The action of different systems of government, encouraging or depressing
intellectual effort, the birth of occasions which elicit the powers of
great minds, and the peculiar characteristics of the manner of thinking
and speaking in different countries, are observable in considering this
topic. A pardonable curiosity has led the writer frequently to visit the
United States Senate Chamber, and to place mentally the intellectual
giants of that body in contrast with their predecessors on the same
scene, and with the eminent orators and statesmen of other countries and
other ages; and the result of such comparisons has always been to awaken
national pride, and to convince that the polity bequeathed us by our
fathers, no less than the distinctive genius of the race, have
practically demonstrated that a free system is the most prolific in the
production of animated oratory and vigorous statesmanship. Undoubtedly,
the golden age of American eloquence must be fixed in the time of
General Jackson, when Webster, Clay, Calhoun, Rives, Woodbury, and Hayne
sat in the Upper House; and whatever may be our wonder, when we
contemplate the brilliant orations of the British statesmen who shone
toward the close of the last century, if we turn from Burke to Webster,
from Pitt to Calhoun, from Fox to Clay, and from Sheridan to Randolph
and to Rives, Americans can not be disappointed by the comparison. Since
the death of the last of that illustrious trio, whose equality of powers
made it futile to award by unanimity the superiority to either, and yet
whose greatness of intellect placed them by common assent far above all
others, the eloquence of the Senate has been less brilliant and less
interesting. And yet it has not fallen below a standard of eloquence
equal, if not superior, to that of any other nation. Unlike the English
and the French, who have to go back more than half a century to deplore
their greatest Senators and Ministers, the grave closed over the
greatest American intellects within the memory of the present
generation; and the contrast between the Senate of to-day and the Senate
of a score of years ago, is too striking, perhaps, to give us an
impartial idea of the abilities which now guide the nation.
The Senate which is at present deliberating on the gravest questions
which our legislature has been called upon to consider since the
establishment of the Constitution, is, without doubt, inferior in point
of eminent talent, to the Senate of Webster's time, and even to the
Senate which closed its labors on the day of Mr. Lincoln's inauguration.
In this latter body were three men, who, though far below the great trio
preceding them, still occupied in a measure their commanding influence
on the floor and before the country: one of whom now holds an Executive
office, another sits in the Lower House, and the third has passed away
from the scenes of his triumphs forever. Mr. Seward, whose keen logic,
accurate statement of details, and imperturbable coolness, remind one of
Pitt and Grey, was considered, while Senator from New-York, as the
leading Statesman of the body, and was the nucleus around which
concentrated the early adherents of the now dominant party. Mr.
Crittenden's fervent and earnest declamation, wise experience, and
good-nature, gave him a high rank in the respect and esteem of his
colleagues, while his age and life-long devotion to the service of the
state, endowed him with unusual authority. The lamented Douglas, who
surpassed every other American statesman in casual discussion, and whose
name will rank with that of Fox, in the art of extempore debate, could
not fail to be the leader of a large party, and the popular idol of a
large mass, by the manly energy of his character, his devotion to
popular principles, and a rich and sonorous eloquence, which convinced
while it delighted.
It must also in candor be admitted, that the secession of the Southern
Senators from the floor, made a decided breach in the oratorical
excellence of that body. However villainous their statesmanship, and to
whatever traitorous purposes they lent the power of their eloquence,
there were several from the disaffected States who were eminent in a
skillful and brilliant use of speech. Probably the man who possessed the
most art in eloquence, and who united a keen and plausible sophistry
with great brilliancy of language and declamation with the highest
skill, was Benjamin, of Louisiana. Born a Hebrew, and bearing in his
countenance the unmistakable indications of Jewish birth, his person is
small, thick, and ill-proportioned; his expression is far less
intellectual than betokening cunning, while his whole manner fails to
give the least idea, when he is not speaking, of the wonderful powers of
his mind.
Shrewd and unprincipled, devoting himself earnestly and without the
least scruple of conscience to two objects--the acquisition of money and
the success of treason--he yet concealed the true character of his
designs under an apparently ingenuous and fervent delivery, and in the
garb of sentiments worthy a Milton or a Washington. His voice, deeply
musical, and uncommonly sweet, enhanced the admiration with which one
viewed his matchless delivery, in which was perfect grace, and entire
harmony with the expressions which fell from his lips. How mournful a
sight, to see one so nobly gifted, leading a life of baseness and vice,
devoting his immortal qualities to the vilest selfishness, and to the
betrayal of his country and of liberty! Should the descendant of an
oppressed and persecuted race take part with oppressors? Senator
Benjamin is a renegade to the spirit of freedom which animated his
ancestors.
He who, among the Southern Senators, ranked as an orator next to
Benjamin, now leads the rebellious hosts against the flag under which he
was reared, and lends his unquestioned powers to the demolition of the
great Republic of which he was once a brilliant ornament. Certainly
endowed with more forethought and practical wisdom than any of his
Democratic colleagues, well qualified by his calm survey of every
question and every political movement, to lead a large party, and
forcible and ironical in debate, Jefferson Davis stood at the head of
the disaffected in the Senate, as he now does in the field. Cautious and
deliberate in speech, he yet never failed to launch out in strong
invective, and to make effective use of irony in his attacks. He is in
personal appearance, rather small and thin, with a refined and decidedly
intellectual countenance, and a not unamiable expression. His health
alone prevented his rising to the first rank of American orators; and
what of his statesmanship was not directed to the accomplishment of
partisan purposes, gave him much consideration. He was incapable, from
a weak constitution, of sustaining, at great length, the vivacity and
energy with which he commenced his speeches; and therefore, their sharp
sarcasm and great power, made them appear more considerable in print
than in the delivery. Even after he had enlisted all his energies in the
detestable scheme which he is now trying to fulfill, his prudence halted
at the rash idea he had embraced; and he attempted for a moment to stem
the torrent, by voting for the Crittenden propositions. His delivery was
graceful and dignified, his manner sometimes courteous, often
contemptuous, and always impressive. His eloquence consisted rather in
the lucid logic and deliberate thought evinced than for rhetorical
beauty or range of imagination; occasionally, however, he would diverge
from the plain thread of argument, and rise to declamation of striking
brilliancy and power. Over-quick, with all his natural phlegm, to
discern and to resent personal affronts--oftentimes when there was no
occasion therefor--he was a favorable exemplar of that peculiar, and to
our mind, somewhat incomprehensible quality, which the Southern people
glory in, and which they dignify by the stately epithet of 'chivalry.'
On the whole, he must be regarded as the ablest, and therefore the most
culpable and dangerous of the insurgent leaders; and he may, perhaps, be
considered the first of Southern statesmen since the time of Calhoun.