the wind was directly off the shore, and the "Polly" flew like a race-
horse toward the open sea. In a few minutes she passed the last
headland, and rushed at foaming speed over the long swell of the
Atlantic. With the gale fairly on her quarter, there was nothing that
could touch the "Polly." There was no fear of a chase, although the
heavy booming of the alarm-guns could still be heard in the distance.
Three Frenchmen had been killed in the fight, and their bodies, which
now lay on deck, were thrown overboard; two were prisoners down below;
the remainder of the crew had escaped by jumping overboard, with the
exception of the treacherous Captain Dupuis, who had sunk when knocked
down by Paul.
Dick Stone was now at the helm; his pipe was well alight; and could his
features have been distinguished in the dark they would be seen to wear
an unusually cheerful expression as he said to Paul, "It wouldn't have
been purlite of us to leave the Mounseers without a salute, and without
my pipe we couldn't have fired the gun. It's a wonderful thing is a
pipe! Ain't it, captain?"
"Nor'-nor'-east is the course, Dick," replied Paul, who was at that
moment thinking of his wife, and the happiness it would be to meet her
on the following day; at the same time he was anxious lest any
misfortune should have occurred during his long absence.
"Nor'-nor-east it is, captain," replied Dick, with a sailor's
promptitude; "but I can't help larfing when I think of Captain Doopwee,
who has put a cargo on board the 'Polly' all for nothing, and has got
knocked on the head into the bargain. Well, sarve him right, sarve him
right," continued Dick, musingly; "he was a, very purlite varmint, too
purlite to be honest, by a long chalk." After this curt biographical
memoir of the late Captain Dupuis, Dick Stone applied himself to his
pipe and kept the "Polly's" course N.N.E.
While Paul and Dick Stone were upon deck Léontine was lying upon a cot
within the cabin. The excitement of the day had nearly worn her out,
and despite the uneasy movement of the vessel, which tried her more
severely than any danger, she fell asleep in the uniform of a private
in the French chasseurs, and she dreamed happily that her brother
Victor was released.
STORIES OF THE CREATION
THE GREEK AND ROMAN MYTH
Almost every ancient or primitive people makes an attempt to explain
how the world and human beings came into existence. They all take it
for granted that things did not simply "happen," but that some being
with intelligence had a hand in the making of things. Accounts as told
by various peoples are here given.
There were various stories of the creation told by the Greeks and
Romans, but the accounts differed only in detail. Most of the Greeks
believed that there was a time when the earth and the sea and the sky
did not exist. All the elements of which they are made existed, but
were jumbled together in a confused mass, which was called Chaos. Over
this Chaos ruled the deities Erebus or Darkness, and Nox or Night,
although it would seem that there could not have been much need of
rulers. Strangely enough, the children of this gloomy pair were Aether
and Hemera, who stood for Light and Day, and they felt that if they
were to become rulers, they wanted a more cheerful realm than Chaos
seemed to be. With the help of Eros (Love), they created Gaea (The
Earth), Uranus (The Sky), and Pontus (The Sea). Uranus married Gaea,
and before long these two took the power from Aether and Hemera and
reigned in their stead. To this god and goddess were born twelve
children--six sons and six daughters--who were known as Titans. As they
were of gigantic size and were extremely strong, their father feared
that they might treat him as he had treated Aether, and to prevent this
he shut them up in an underground cavern.
Naturally Gaea was not pleased with this treatment of her children, so
she helped Saturn, the youngest of the Titans, to escape, and gave him
a scythe with which he might revenge himself on his father.
After defeating Uranus, Saturn released all his brothers and sisters,
and made them swear to be faithful to him as the new ruler. He then
chose as his queen Rhea, a goddess who was both good and beautiful, and
began his reign in happiness.
When his first child was born, however, Saturn remembered that Uranus
had foretold his overthrow by one of his own children, and to prevent
such a disaster he did a very strange and heartless thing---he
swallowed his new-born son. Five children he got rid of in this manner,
but when the sixth, Jupiter, was born, Rhea resolved to save him. She
therefore wrapped up a stone and gave it to her husband instead of the
child, and he, suspecting nothing, swallowed it. The young god grew up
in concealment, and very rapidly he grew, for when he was but a year
old he was strong enough to make successful war on his father and to
take the supreme power from him. And then, strangest thing of all, he
forced Saturn to disgorge all the children he had swallowed.
Either because he was generous or because he thought his kingdom was
too great for him, Jupiter divided it with his brothers, Neptune and
Pluto, but he himself remained supreme.
The gods themselves dwelt not on the earth, but above the top of
Olympus, a mountain peak of Greece; and thus the entire Earth was
uninhabited. However, it was not allowed to remain so, for Jupiter
appointed Prometheus, a Titan, who had helped him in his war against
Saturn, to make an inhabitant for the Earth. Prometheus accordingly
moulded a man out of clay, and taking him before the gods, persuaded
each one to bestow upon him some gift. A woman was made later, and from
these two were descended all the peoples of the earth.
THE NORSE MYTH
As the Norse peoples, in their land which for so large a part of the
year was ice-bound, dreaded the long, hard winter, and looked forward
to the blessings brought by the summer, they imagined that the evil
forces in the world worked through cold and darkness, the good forces
through warmth and light. Thus they feared and hated the "frost
giants," while they loved and reverenced the gods, whom they pictured
as living in a world of brightness and warmth.
According to the Norse religion, or mythology, the world began in a
contest between heat and cold. At first there was no earth; nothing
existed except the yawning abyss, Ginungagap, which separated the
world, or spacer, of mist and cold and darkness, on the north, from the
world of fire and brightness, on the south. The mist world was called
Niflheim; the fire world, Muspelheim. From a great fountain in the mist
world there sprang twelve rivers, which after flowing far from their
source tumbled their waters into the Ginungagap. Here the water was all
turned to ice, with which in time the huge abyss was filled. Sparks and
warm winds from Muspelheim, coming into contact with this ice, melted
it, so that there hung always over the ice chasm a dense vapor. This,
in turn, gradually took shape, and formed the giant Ymir and the cow
Audhumbla; and for a season these were the only two creatures in all
the expanse of space. Ymir fed upon the cow's milk, and she, in turn,
got what nourishment she could by licking the salt and the hoarfrost
from the ice.
One day as the cow licked a huge ice block, there appeared the hair of
some being, and as she remained persistently at the same lump, within a
short time she had set free a beautiful, strong god--the god Bori. Bori
was the ancestor of all the gods, as Ymir was the ancestor of all the
giants; and since the gods were as good as the frost giants were evil,
it was plain enough to both that they could not live together.
The struggle between the races lasted for ages on ages, but finally
Odin, Vili and Ve, the grandsons of Bori, succeeded in putting to death
Ymir, the greatest and worst of the giants. And in killing him they
accomplished much more than they expected; for from his wounds the
blood gushed in such streams that it drowned all the wicked giants
except Bergelmir and his wife, who saved themselves in a boat. Had
they, too, but died, there would have been, to the end of time, no
giants to trouble the gods; but their descendants kept up from
Jotunheim, their home at the end of the world, their plots and warrings
against the gods.
Odin, who was from the first the wisest and strongest of the gods,
gazed upon the huge corpse of the slain giant, and then called the
other gods about him.
"We cannot waste," he said, "the body of this giant. Where is the use
of our power and wisdom if we cannot, out of this evil thing, make
something good and beautiful?"
Eagerly the gods set to work. It was by far the most interesting task
they had ever been called upon to perform, and right well they
performed it. In the exact center of the ice abyss they formed, of
Ymir's flesh, the earth, and about it and through it they caused his
blood to flow, as the sea, the rivers and the lakes. Of his teeth they
made steep cliffs to front the sea, and of his bones they formed
mountains and hills. His curly hair became grass and trees and flowers,
and his eyebrows were set about the new earth as a high fence, to keep
out the revengeful giants. Then, taking up the great skull, the gods
set it over the earth to form the arch of the heavens, while the brains
that it had contained they scattered about as clouds.
No wonder the gods were pleased with their work! But Odin saw that
there was one thing lacking.
"Were we ourselves to dwell on this new created earth," he said, "it
would be well; for to a god's eyes all things are clear. But those whom
we shall fashion to inhabit it shall see with other eyes than ours, and
lights will be needed--lights for day, and lights for night."
This was comparatively easy, after the work that had already been
performed. All the gods set to work catching sparks from Muspelheim,
and there was great rivalry as to which one should collect most. Some
of the sparks were scattered through the sky as stars, but the
brightest ones were put aside and kept for a greater purposes. When
enough had been gathered, the gods made from the whitely glowing ones
the moon; from the fiery red and golden ones, the sun. These lights
they placed in chariots, to which were harnessed swift, tireless
steeds; but it was evident to all that the steeds could not be trusted
to take the chariots across the sky unguided. Feeling that they could
not spare two of their own number for this work, the gods chose Sol
(sun) and Mani (moon), the daughter and son of a giant, who had named
his children after the new lights because of their beauty. The young
drivers were given instructions as to just the hours when they must
begin their journeys across the sky, as to how rapidly they must drive,
and as to the paths they must take; and never did the gods find reason
to be dissatisfied with the work of Sol and Mani.
Then two more chariots were made. To one was harnessed a black horse,
named Hrimfaxi, whose mane dropped hoarfrost and whose bit scattered
dew; while to the other was fastened the beautiful silver-white steed
Skinfaxi, from whose shining mane beams of light were shed through all
the earth. The giantess Night was entrusted with the first of these
chariots, while the young god Day was made the driver of the other.
Each was told to drive about the earth once each twenty-four hours.
The gods could make all these beautiful things, but they could not keep
the giants from making ugly and evil things; and so there were two
fierce wolves, set on by the giants, who constantly chased the sun and
moon across the sky, attempting to catch and devour them. Occasionally
one of these wolves would overtake his prey, and would start to swallow
it, thus producing what was known on earth as an eclipse. But always,
in some way or other, they were frightened away before the light of the
heavens was utterly destroyed. When the gods had expressed their
pleasure in all that had so far been done, Odin said, "Where shall we
fix our own dwelling? Beyond the earth, beyond the ocean, live the
giants; but neither on the earth, nor in the earth, nor above the earth
s there any living thing." "You mistake, Father Odin," cried one of
his sons. "If you but look down, you will see that within the earth are
many living things."
All the gods looked down, and there, sure enough, were innumerable
little creatures crawling in and out of the earth. They had been bred
by the earth, and were little better than maggots; but the gods gave
them a form which somewhat resembled that of the gods themselves,
though smaller, and gave them intelligence and wonderful strength. Some
of the new little creatures were ugly and dark and deformed; these the
gods called gnomes or dwarfs, and to them they gave homes underground,
with power over all that was hidden in the earth. But for the
beautiful, fair creatures whom they called elves and fairies, the gods
made a home somewhat above the earth, where they might live always
among flowers and birds and butterflies.
"And now," said Odin, "let us build our own home in the heavens, above
that of the fairies. This green earth which we have made we shall
reserve for a race to be, which shall be our especial care."
Far in the blue heavens, therefore, above the mountain tops, above the
clouds, was built the wonderful city of Asgard, home of the gods. In
the center was the palace Gladsheim, of pure gold, within whose
precious hall there were set golden thrones for all the gods. Odin had,
too, a great palace of his own, called Valhalla, and each god and each
goddess had a home built of precious metals and adorned with gleaming
stones.
Then, last of all, Father Odin turned his thoughts to the making of
man. With two of his brother gods he walked, one day, on the seashore
in the beautiful empty earth which they had made; and suddenly he saw
at his feet the trunks of two trees, an ash and an elm.
"These will serve our purpose," said Odin. But even after he had spoken
he hesitated long, for he knew that it was a solemn thing which they
were about to do-this making of human beings with souls and with the
power to suffer. At last he breathed upon the logs, and behold! they
lived and moved, and assumed a form like that of the gods themselves.
The other two gods bestowed upon them intelligence and beauty; and
then, with blessings upon the newly created pair, the three gods took
their way back to Asgard.
From this first man and woman sprang all the human race, which dwelt
upon the earth under the constant care of the gods. Sometimes, at
sunset, men and women standing in the fields would fancy they caught
gleams from the golden palaces of the gods in the heavens; and often,
when the rain had washed the air, they saw clearly the gorgeous bridge
over which the gods passed from their city of Asgard to the earth. For
this bridge was nothing else than the rainbow.
AMERICAN INDIAN MYTHS
The various tribes and families of American Indians held different
views as to the origin of the world. Some views differed but slightly,
while in other instances absolutely dissimilar stories were told. One
of the Algonkin tribes told how the queen of heaven, Atahensic, had a
grievous quarrel with her lord, Atahocan. Furious, the king of the
heavens seized his wife and threw her over the walls of the sky. Down,
down, she fell toward the vast abyss of waters which filled all space.
But as she was about to sink into the water, suddenly a tortoise raised
its back above the surface of the waters, and thus afforded her a
resting place. The tortoise grew to an immense size, and finally became
the dwelling place of all human beings. The Indians believed that the
attempts of the tortoise, wearied of one position, to settle itself
more comfortably, caused the earthquakes.
A tradition of the Ottawa Indians is that the earth was found in the
claws and jaws of a muskrat. It grew and grew upon the surface of the
water, and the Great Spirit, who sat above watching its growth, sent
out a wolf and told him to run around the earth and then return to him,
that he might see how large the new island had become. Within a short
time the wolf was back, so the Great Spirit knew that the earth had not
yet become very large. Later he sent out the same messenger again, and
this time the wolf was gone for two years. A third time he sent the
wolf forth, and as he returned no more, the Great Spirit knew that the
earth had become a huge place, fit to live upon.
In the legends of the Athapasca, as in those we have just read, we hear
of the great world of water. A mighty bird, "whose eyes were fire,
whose glances were lightning and the clapping of whose wings was
thunder," suddenly flew down and moved along the surface of the water.
Instantly the earth rose and remained above the surface of the water,
and this same all-powerful bird then called into being the different
animals.
The Quiché have a similar legend, but it is very quaintly phrased:
"This is the first word and the first speech. There were neither men
nor brutes; neither birds, fish, nor crabs, stick nor stone, valley nor
mountain, stubble nor forest, nothing but the sky. The face of the land
was hidden. There was naught but the silent sea and the sky. There was
nothing joined, nor any sound, nor thing that stirred; neither any to
do evil, nor to rumble in the heavens, nor a walker on foot; only the
silent waters, only the pacified ocean, only it in its calm. Nothing
was but stillness, and rest, and darkness, and the night." A mighty
wind passed over the surface of this water, and at the sound of it the
solid land arose.
The Indian legends as to the creation of man are as varied as those of
the creation of the world. Some relate that human beings simply sprang
from trees or from stones, but most of them agree in regarding the
Great Spirit, uncreated and eternal, as the creator of man.
The Ojibway legend tells of two cranes, a male and a female, created by
the Great Spirit in the upper world and sent through an opening in the
sky to seek a home for themselves on the earth. They were told that
they might choose any spot as their home, and that upon making choice
they would immediately be changed into a man and a woman. They visited
one place after another, and finally made choice of a land about Lake
Superior, because here they were certain that there would always be
plenty of water and plenty of fish for food. As soon as they alighted
and folded their wings, the Great Spirit turned them into human beings.
The Winnebago Indians believed that after the Great Spirit had created
the earth and the trees and the grass, he took a piece out of his heart
and thereof made a man. Later he made a woman, but a bit of ordinary
flesh served to make her. Thus, the Winnebagoes said, man was wise and
great, but woman was much wanting in sense.
THE DEFINITION OF A GENTLEMAN
[Footnote: From _The Idea of a University._]
CARDINAL NEWMAN
Hence it is that it is almost a definition of a gentleman to say he is
one who never inflicts pain. This description is both refined and, as
far as it goes, accurate. He is mainly occupied in merely removing the
obstacles which hinder the free and unembarrassed action of those about
him; and he concurs with their movements rather than takes the
initiative himself. His benefits may be considered as parallel to what
are called comforts or conveniences in arrangements of a personal
nature; like an easy chair or a good fire, which do their part in
dispelling cold and fatigue, though nature provides both means of rest
and animal heat without them. The true gentleman in like manner
carefully avoids whatever may cause a jar or a jolt in the minds of
those with whom he is cast--all clashing of opinion, or collision of
feeling, all restraint, or suspicion, or gloom, or resentment; his
great concern being to make every one at his ease and at home. He has
his eyes on all his company; he is tender towards the bashful, gentle
towards the distant, and merciful towards the absurd; he can recollect
to whom he is speaking; he guards against unseasonable allusions, or
topics which may irritate; he is seldom prominent in conversation, and
never wearisome. He makes light of favors while he does them, and seems
to be receiving when he is conferring. He never speaks of himself
except when compelled, never defends himself by a mere retort; he has
no ears for slander or gossip, is scrupulous in imputing motives to
those who interfere with him, and interprets everything for the best.
He is never mean or little in his disputes, never takes unfair
advantage, never mistakes personalities or sharp sayings for arguments,
or insinuates evil which he dare not say out. From a long-sighted
prudence, he observes the maxim of the ancient sage, that we should
ever conduct ourselves towards our enemy as if he were one day to be
our friend. He has too much good sense to be affronted at insults, he
is too well employed to remember injuries, and too indolent to bear
malice. He is patient, forbearing, and resigned, on philosophical
principles; he submits to pain, because it is inevitable, to
bereavement, because it is irreparable, and to death, because it is his
destiny.
If he engages in controversy of any kind, his disciplined intellect
preserves him from the blundering discourtesy of better, perhaps, but
less educated minds; who, like blunt weapons, tear and hack instead of
cutting clean, who mistake the point in argument, waste their strength
on trifles, misconceive their adversary, and leave the question more
involved than they find it. He may be right or wrong in his opinion,
but he is too clear-headed to be unjust; he is as simple as he is
forcible, and as brief as he is decisive. Nowhere shall we find greater
candor, consideration, indulgence: he throws himself into the minds of
his opponents, he accounts for their mistakes. He knows the weakness of
human reason as well as its strength, its province and its limits.
If he be an unbeliever, he will be too profound and large-minded to
ridicule religion or to act against it; he is too wise to be a
dogmatist or fanatic in his infidelity. He respects piety and devotion;
he even supports institutions as venerable, beautiful, or useful, to
which he does not assent; he honors the ministers of religion, and it
contents him to decline its mysteries without assailing or denouncing
them. He is a friend of religious toleration, and that, not only
because his philosophy has taught him to look on all forms of faith
with an impartial eye, but also from the gentleness and effeminacy of
feeling, which is the attendant on civilization.
THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER
_By_ ALEXANDER POPE
Father of all! in every age,
In every clime adored,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!
Thou Great First Cause, least understood:
Who all my sense confined
To know but this, that Thou art good,
And that myself am blind;
Yet gave me, in this dark estate,
And binding nature fast in fate,
Left free the human will.
What conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do,
This, teach me more than hell to shun,
That, more than heaven pursue.
What blessings Thy free bounty gives,
Let me not cast away;
For God is paid when man receives:
T' enjoy is to obey.
Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think Thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round.
If I am right, Thy grace impart,
Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, oh! teach my heart
To find that better way.
Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious discontent,
At aught Thy wisdom has denied,
Or aught Thy goodness lent.
Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I see;
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.
Mean though I am, not wholly so,
Since quickened by Thy breath;
Oh, lead me wheresoe'er I go,
Through this day's life or death.
This day, be bread and peace my lot:
All else beneath the sun,
Thou know'st if best bestowed or not,
And let Thy will be done.
To Thee, whose temple is all space,
Whose altar earth, sea, skies,
One chorus let all being raise,
All nature's incense rise!
INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH CAMP
_By_ ROBERT BROWNING
You know we French stormed Ratisbon:
A mile or so away,
On a little mound, Napoleon
Stood on our storming day;
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,
Legs wide, arms locked behind,
As if to balance the prone brow
Oppressive with its mind.
Just as perhaps he mused, "My plans
That soar, to earth may fall,
Let once my army-leader Lannes
Waver at yonder wall,--"
Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew
A rider, bound on bound
Full-galloping: nor bridle drew
Until he reached the mound.
[Illustration: WE'VE GOT YOU RATISBON!]