they would kiss her once again. That done, she turned to the old man with
a lovely smile upon her face—such, they said, as they had never seen, and
never could forget—and clung with both her arms about his neck. They did
not know that she was dead at first. For the rest, she had never murmured
or complained; but with a quiet mind, and manner quite unaltered—save
that she every day became more earnest and more grateful to them—faded
like the light upon the summer’s evening.
13. And now the bell—the bell she had so often heard by night and day,
and listened to with solemn pleasure, almost as a living voice—rung its
remorseless tone for her, so young, so beautiful, so good. Decrepit
age, and vigorous life, and blooming youth, and helpless infancy poured
forth—on crutches, in the pride of strength and health, in the full
blush of promise, in the mere dawn of life; to gather round her with
angels; and when they called to mind how she had looked, and spoken, and
her early death, some thought it might be so indeed. Thus coming to the
grave in little knots, and glancing down, and giving place to others, and
falling off in whispering groups of three or four, the church was cleared
in time of all but the sexton and the mourning friends.
14. They saw the vault covered and the stone fixed down. Then, when
the dusk of evening had come on, and not a sound disturbed the sacred
stillness of the place—when the bright moon poured in her light on tomb
and monument, on pillar, wall, and arch, and most of all (it seems to
them) upon her quiet grave—in that calm time, when all outward things and
inward thoughts teem with assurances of immortality, and worldly hopes
and fears are humbled in the dust before them, then, with tranquil and
submissive hearts, they turned away, and left the child with God.
LIII.—SORROW FOR THE DEAD.
WASHINGTON IRVING.
1. The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be
divorced.[387] Every other wound we seek to heal, every other affliction
to forget; but this wound we consider it a duty to keep open; this
affliction we cherish and brood over in solitude. Where is the mother who
would willingly forget the infant that perished like a blossom from her
arms, though every recollection is a pang? Where is the child that would
willingly forget the most tender of parents, though to remember be but to
lament?
2. Who, even in the hour of agony, would forget the friend over whom he
mourns? Who, even when the tomb is closing upon her he most loved—when he
feels his heart, as it were, crushed in the closing of its portals—would
accept of consolation that must be bought by forgetfulness?
3. No, the love which survives the tomb is one of the noblest attributes
of the soul. If it has its woes, it has likewise its delights; and when
the overwhelming burst of grief is calmed into the gentle tear of
recollection, when the sudden anguish and the convulsive agony over the
present ruins of all that we most loved, is softened away into pensive
meditation on all that it was in the days of its loveliness, who could
root out such a sorrow? Though it may sometimes throw a passing cloud
over the bright hour of gayety, or spread a deeper sadness over the hour
of gloom, yet who would exchange it, even for the song of pleasure, or
the burst of revelry?
4. No, there is a voice from the tomb sweeter than song. There is a
remembrance of the dead to which we turn even from the charms of the
living. Oh! the grave! It buries every error, covers every defect,
extinguishes every resentment! From its peaceful bosom spring none but
fond regrets and tender recollections. Who can look down even upon the
grave of an enemy, and not feel a compunctious[388] throb, that he should
ever have warred with the poor handful of earth that lies moldering
before him!
5. But the grave of those we loved, what a place of meditation! There
it is that we call up in long review the whole history of virtue and
gentleness, and the thousand endearments lavished upon us, almost
unheeded in the daily intercourse of intimacy; there it is that we dwell
upon the tenderness, the solemn, awful tenderness of the parting scene;
the bed of death, with all its stifled griefs, its noiseless attendance,
its mute watchful assiduities.
6. The last testimonies of expiring love! the feeble, fluttering,
thrilling, oh! how thrilling! pressure of hand! The faint, faltering
accents, struggling in death to give one more assurance of affection!
The last fond look of the glazing eye, turning upon us even from the
threshold of existence! Ay, go to the grave of buried love, and
meditate. There settle the account with thy conscience for every past
benefit unrequited[389], every past endearment unregarded, of that
departed being, who can never, never, never return to be soothed by thy
contrition.
7. If thou art a child, and hast ever added a sorrow to the soul, or a
furrow to the silvered brow of an affectionate parent; if thou art a
husband, and hast ever caused the fond bosom that ventured its whole
happiness in thy arms, to doubt one moment of thy kindness or thy truth;
if thou art a friend, and hast ever wronged in thought, or word, or deed,
the spirit that generously confided in thee; if thou art a lover, and
hast ever given one unmerited pang to that true heart which now lies cold
and still beneath thy feet;—then be sure that every unkind look, every
ungracious word, every ungentle action, will come thronging back to thy
memory, and knock dolefully at thy soul; then be sure that thou wilt lie
down sorrowing and repentant in the grave, and utter the unheard groan,
and pour the unavailing tear, more deep, more bitter, because unheard and
unavailing.
8. Then weave thy chaplet of flowers, and strew the beauties of Nature
about the grave, console thy broken spirit, if thou canst, with these
tender, yet futile[390] tributes of regret; but take warning by the
bitterness of this thy contrite[391] affliction over the dead, and
henceforth be more faithful and affectionate in the discharge of thy
duties to the living.
[387] DI-VORCEDˊ, disunited or separated.
[388] COM-PUNC-TIOUS, repentant; sorrowful.
[389] UNˊ-RE-QUITED, not repaid; not done or given in return.
[390] FUˊ-TILE, trifling; worthless.
[391] CONˊ-TRITE, sorrowful; bowed down with grief.
LIV.—ISABELLA THE CATHOLIC, QUEEN OF SPAIN.
PRESCOTT.
William H. Prescott was born in Salem, Mass., May 4th, 1796, and
died in Boston, January 28 1859. His historical and biographical
works, published in fifteen octavo volumes, have enjoyed a wide
and deserved popularity; although in many instances marred by
views and statements, which seem to betray a mind warped by
religious prejudice. In his edition of Robertson’s “History of
the Emperor Charles V.” he has permitted some of the most glaring
errors of that writer to pass uncorrected, although Maitland, in
his admirable work entitled “The Dark Ages,” had very clearly and
conclusively exposed them.
1. Her person was of the middle height, and well proportioned. She had a
clear, fresh complexion, with light blue eyes and auburn hair, a style
of beauty exceedingly rare in Spain. Her features were regular, and
universally allowed to be uncommonly handsome.
2. The illusion which attaches to rank, more especially when united with
engaging manners, might lead us to suspect some exaggeration in the
encomiums[392] so liberally lavished on her. But they would seem to be
in a great measure justified by the portraits that remain of her, which
combine a faultless symmetry[393] of features, with singular sweetness
and intelligence of expression.
3. Her manners were most gracious and pleasing. They were marked by
natural dignity and modest reserve, tempered by an affability[394] which
flowed from the kindliness of her disposition. She was the last person to
be approached with undue familiarity; yet the respect which she imposed
was mingled with the strongest feelings of devotion and love.
4. She showed great tact in accommodating herself to the peculiar
situation and character of those around her. She appeared in arms at
the head of her troops, and shrunk from none of the hardships of war.
During the reforms introduced into the religious houses, she visited the
nunneries[395] in person, taking her needle-work with her, and passing
the day in the society of the inmates. When traveling in Galicia,[396]
she attired herself in the costume of the country, borrowing for
that purpose the jewels and other ornaments of the ladies there, and
returning them with liberal additions. By this condescending and
captivating deportment, as well as by her higher qualities, she gained an
ascendency[397] over her turbulent[398] subjects, which no king of Spain
could ever boast.
5. She spoke the Castilian[399] with much elegance and correctness.
She had an easy fluency of discourse, which, though generally of a
serious complexion, was occasionally seasoned with agreeable sallies,
some of which have passed into proverbs. She was temperate, even to
abstemiousness,[400] in her diet, seldom or never tasting wine: and so
frugal in her table, that the daily expenses of herself and family did
not exceed the moderate sum of forty ducats.[401]
6. She was equally simple and economical in her apparel. On all public
occasions, indeed, she displayed a royal magnificence;[402] but she had
no relish for it in private, and she freely gave away her clothes and
jewels, as presents to her friends.
7. Naturally of a sedate, though cheerful temper, she had little taste
for the frivolous amusements which make up so much of a court life; and,
if she encouraged the presence of minstrels and musicians in her palace,
it was to wean her young nobility from the coarser and less intellectual
pleasures to which they were addicted.
8. Among her moral qualities, the most conspicuous, perhaps, was her
magnanimity.[403] She betrayed nothing little or selfish, in thought or
action. Her schemes were vast, and executed in the same noble spirit
in which they were conceived. She never employed doubtful agents, or
sinister measures, but the most direct and open policy. She scorned to
avail herself of advantages offered by the perfidy[404] of others.
9. Where she had once given her confidence, she gave her hearty and
steady support: and she was scrupulous to redeem any pledge she had made
to those who ventured in her cause, however unpopular. She sustained
Ximenes[405] in all his obnoxious[406] but salutary reforms. She seconded
Columbus in the prosecution of his arduous enterprise, and shielded him
from the calumny[407] of his enemies. She did the same good service to
her favorite, Gonsalvo de Cordova;[408] and the day of her death was
felt, and, as it proved, truly felt, by both, as the last of their good
fortune.
10. Artifice[409] and duplicity[410] were so abhorrent to her character,
and so averse from her domestic policy, that when they appear in the
foreign relations of Spain, it is certainly not imputable to her. She
was incapable of harboring any petty distrust, or latent malice; and,
although stern in the execution and exaction of public justice, she made
the most generous allowance, and even, sometimes, advances, to those who
had personally injured her.
11. But the principle which gave a peculiar coloring to every feature of
Isabella’s mind, was piety. It shone forth from the very depths of her
soul with a heavenly radiance, which illuminated her whole character.
Fortunately, her earliest years had been passed in the rugged school of
adversity, under the eye of a mother who implanted in her serious mind
such strong principles of religion, as nothing in after life had power to
shake.
12. At an early age, in the flower of youth and beauty, she was
introduced to her brother’s court; but its blandishments,[411] so
dazzling to a young imagination, had no power over hers; for she was
surrounded by a moral atmosphere of purity, “driving far off each thing
of sin and guilt.” Such was the decorum of her manners, that, though
encompassed by false friends and open enemies, not the slightest reproach
was breathed on her fair name in this corrupt and calumnious[412] court.
[392] EN-COˊ-MI-UM, a high commendation; praise.
[393] SYMˊ-ME-TRY, a due proportion of the parts of a body to each other.
[394] AF-FA-BILˊ-I-TY, easiness of approach; readiness to converse.
[395] NUNˊ-NE-RY, a religious house for females who have forsaken the
world.
[396] GAL-Iˊ-CIA, an old province of Spain.
[397] AS-CENDˊ-EN-CY, superior or controlling influence.
[398] TURˊ-BU-LENT, riotous; violent; mutinous.
[399] CAS-TILˊ-IAN, the language spoke in Castile, considered the most
elegant dialect of Spain.
[400] AB-STEˊ-MI-OUS-NESS, a sparing use of food, or strong drink.
[401] DUCˊ-AT, a coin of several countries in Europe, struck in territory
governed by a duke. A silver ducat is generally of nearly the value of an
American dollar, and a gold ducat of twice the value.
[402] MAG-NIFˊ-I-CENCE, grandeur of appearance; splendor of show or state.
[403] MAG-NA-NIMˊ-I-TY, greatness of mind; dignity or elevation of soul,
which meets danger with calmness and firmness, which raises the possessor
above revenge, which makes him hate injustice and meanness, and moves him
to act and suffer for noble objects.
[404] PERˊ-FI-DY, treachery; falsehood.
[405] CARDINAL XI-MEˊ-NES, born 1437, died 1517. He was a distinguished
ecclesiastic, and a great statesman.
[406] OB-NOXˊ-IOUS, odious; unpopular.
[407] CALˊ-UM-NY, the uttering of a false charge, proceeding from hatred
against another.
[408] GONSALVO DE CORDOVA, called also “the Great Captain,” was a Spanish
warrior, distinguished by his victories over the Moors in Spain, and the
French in Naples. Born 1443, died 1515.
[409] ARˊ-TI-FICE, an artful or skillful contrivance; a fraud or trick.
[410] DU-PLICˊ-I-TY, double-dealing; deceitfulness.
[411] BLANDˊ-ISH-MENT, words or actions expressive of affection or
kindness, and tending to win the heart, or to flatter.
[412] CA-LUMˊ-NI-OUS, slanderous.
LV.—PALESTINE.
ALTERED FROM WHITTIER.
John Greenleaf Whittier is a well-known and popular writer in
prose and verse.
1. Blest land of Judea! thrice hallowed of song,
Where the holiest of memories, pilgrim-like, throng
In the shade of thy palms, by the shores of thy sea,
On the hills of thy beauty—my heart is with thee.
With the eye of a spirit I look on that shore,
Where pilgrim and prophet have lingered before;
With the guide of a spirit I traverse the sod
Made bright by the steps of the angels of God.
2. Blue sea of the hills! in my spirit I hear
Thy waters, Gennesaret[413], chime on my ear;
Where the Lowly and Just with the people sat down,
And thy spray on the dust of His sandals was thrown.
Beyond are Bethulia’s[414] mountains of green,
And the desolate hills of the wild Gadarene[415];
And I pause on the goat-crags of Tabor[416] to see
The gleam of thy waters, O dark Galilee!
3. There sleep the still rocks and the caverns which rang
To the song which the beautiful prophetess sang,
When the princes of Issachar[417] stood by her side,
And the shout of a host in its triumph replied.
Lo! Bethlehem’s[418] hill-site before me is seen,
With the mountains around and the valleys between;
There rested the shepherds of Judah[419], and there,
The song of the angels rose sweet on the air.
4. And Bethany’s[420] palm trees in beauty still throw
Their shadows at noon on the ruins below;
But where are the sisters who hastened to greet
The lowly Redeemer, and sit at his feet?
I tread where the Twelve in their wayfaring trod;
I stand where they stood with the Incarnate God;
Where his blessing was heard, and his lessons were taught;
Where the blind were restored, and the healing was wrought.
[413] GEN-NESˊ-A-RET, a sea or lake in Palestine, the borders of which,
in the time of Christ, were covered with numerous towns and villages;
called also, Sea of Galilee.
[414] BETH-U-LIˊ-A, a city which appears to have overlooked the plain of
Esdraelon, and to have guarded one of the passes to Jerusalem.
[415] GAD-A-RENEˊ, an inhabitant of Gadara, a city in a mountainous
region near the Sea of Galilee.
[416] TAˊ-BOR, an isolated mountain, of a conical form, a few miles
southwest of the Sea of Galilee.
[417] ISˊ-SA-CHAR, a son of Jacob and Leah; also, the tribe named after
him.
[418] BETHˊ-LE-HEM, the city where Our Lord was born.
[419] JUˊ-DAH, the name of one of the tribes of Israel, afterwards
applied to the whole nation.
[420] BETHˊ-A-NY, a town near Jerusalem the residence of Martha and Mary.
LVI.—LOVE OF COUNTRY AND OF HOME.
MONTGOMERY.
1. There is a land, of every land the pride,
Beloved by heaven o’er all the world beside;
Where brighter suns dispense[421] serener[422] light,
And milder moons imparadise[423] the night:
A land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth,
Time-tutored age, and love-exalted youth.
2. The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,
Views not a realm so bountiful and fair,
Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air;
In every clime, the magnet[424] of his soul,
Touched by remembrance, trembles to that pole:
3. For in this land of heaven’s peculiar grace,
The heritage[425] of nature’s noblest race,
There is a spot of earth supremely[426] blest,
A dearer, sweeter pot than all the rest,
Where man, creation’s tyrant, casts aside
His sword and scepter, pageantry and pride,
While, in his softened looks, benignly[427] blend
The sire, the son, the husband, father, friend.
4. Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife,
Strews with fresh flowers the narrow way of life;
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye,
An angel guard of loves and graces lie;
Around her knees domestic duties meet,
And fireside pleasures gambol[428] at her feet.
Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found?
Art thou a man? a patriot?[429] look around;
Oh! thou shalt find, howe’er thy footsteps roam,
That land _thy_ country, and that spot _thy_ home.
[421] DIS-PENSEˊ, deal or divide out in portions or parts; distribute.
[422] SE-RENˊ-ER, clearer; more soothing.
[423] IM-PARˊ-A-DISE, make very happy; render like Paradise.
[424] MAGˊ-NET, the loadstone; that which attracts.
[425] HERˊ-IT-AGE, inheritance; portion; an estate devolved by succession.
[426] SU-PREMEˊ-LY, in the highest degree.
[427] BEˊ-NIGNˊ-LY, graciously; kindly.
[428] GAMˊ-BOL, dance and skip about in sport; play in frolic, like boys
and lambs.
[429] PAˊ-TRI-OT, a person who loves his country, and zealously supports
and defends it and its interests.
LVII.—THE HEAVENLY REST.
ANON.
1. There is an hour of peaceful rest
To mourning wanderers given,
There is a tear for souls distrest,
A balm for every wounded breast—
’Tis found above—in heaven!
2. There is a soft, a downy bed,
’Tis sweet as breath of even;
A couch for weary mortals spread,
Where they may rest the aching head,
And find repose in heaven!
3. There is a home for weary souls,
By sin and sorrow driven,
When tossed on life’s tempestuous shoals
Where storms arise, and ocean rolls,
And all is drear—but heaven!
4. There faith lifts up the tearful eye,
The heart with anguish riven;
And views the tempest passing by,
The evening shadows quickly fly,
And all serene in heaven!
5. The fragrant flowers immortal bloom.
And joys supreme are given;
There rays divine disperse the gloom:
Beyond the confines of the tomb
Appears the dawn of heaven!
LVIII.—LOVE OF COUNTRY.
SCOTT.
1. Breathes there the man, with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said,
“This is my own, my native land!”
Whose heart has ne’er within him burned,
As home his footsteps he hath turned,
From wandering on a foreign strand?
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no minstrel raptures swell.
2. High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentrated all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown;
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from which he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
3. O Caledonia! stern and wild,
Meet nurse for a poetic child,
Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the flood.
Land of my sires; what mortal hand
Can e’er untie the filial band
That knits me to thy rugged strand!
LIX.—THE CHARMED SERPENT.
CHATEAUBRIAND.
1. One day, while we were encamped in a spacious[430] plain on the bank
of the Genesee river, we saw a rattlesnake. There was a Canadian in our
party who could play on the flute, and to divert us he advanced toward
the serpent with his new species of weapon. On the approach of his enemy,
the haughty[431] reptile curls himself into a spiral[432] line, flattens
his head, inflates[433] his cheeks, contracts his lips, displays his
envenomed fangs and his bloody throat. His double tongue glows like
two flames of fire; his eyes are burning coals; his body, swollen with
rage, rises and falls like the bellows of a forge; his dilated[434] skin
assumes a dull and scaly appearance; and his tail, which sends forth an
ominous sound, vibrates[435] with such rapidity as to resemble a light
vapor.
2. The Canadian now begins to play on his flute. The serpent starts with
surprise and draws back his head. In proportion as he is struck with the
magic sound, his eyes lose their fierceness, the oscillations[436] of his
tail diminish, and the noise which it emits grows weaker, and gradually
dies away. The spiral folds of the charmed serpent, diverging from the
perpendicular,[437] expand,[438] and one after the other sink to the
ground in concentric[439] circles. The tints of azure, green, white,
and gold, recover their brilliancy on his quivering skin, and, slightly
turning his head, he remains motionless in the attitude of attention and
pleasure.
3. At this moment the Canadian advances a few steps, producing with
his flute sweet and simple notes. The reptile immediately lowers his
variegated[440] neck, opens a passage with his head through the slender
grass, and begins to creep after the musician, halting when he halts, and
again following him when he resumes his march. In this way he was led
beyond the limits of our camp, attended by a great number of spectators,
both savages and Europeans, who could scarcely believe their eyes. After
witnessing this wonderful effect of melody, the assembly unanimously
decided that the marvelous[441] serpent should be permitted to escape.
[430] SPAˊ-CIOUS, wide; roomy; extensive.
[431] HAUGHˊ-TY, proud; disdainful.
[432] SPIˊ-RAL, winding like a screw.
[433] IN-FLATESˊ, to swell or distend.
[434] DI-LAT-ED, expanded.
[435] VI-BRATE, to swing; to quiver; to move to and fro.
[436] OS-CIL-LAˊ-TION, vibration; a movement backward and forward.
[437] PER-PEN-DICˊ-U-LAR, a line is said to be perpendicular to another,
on which it falls, or from which it extends at right angles.
[438] EX-PANDˊ, to dilate; to open.
[439] CON-CENˊ-TRIC, having a common center.
[440] VAˊ-RI-E-GATED, diversified in colors.
[441] MARˊ-VEL-OUS, wonderful.
LX.—MY ROSARY.
SIR HUMPHREY DAVY.
Sir Humphrey Davy was born in England, December 17, 1779,
and died at Geneva, May 29, 1829. He made several valuable
discoveries in chemistry.
1. The rosary which you see suspended around my neck, is a memorial[442]
of sympathy and respect for an illustrious man. I was passing through
France, in the reign of Napoleon, by the peculiar privilege granted to
a _savant_,[443] on my road to Italy. I had just returned from the Holy
Land, and had in my possession two or three of the rosaries which are
sold to pilgrims at Jerusalem, as having been suspended in the Holy
Sepulchre. Pius VII. was then in imprisonment at Fontainebleau. By a
special favor, on the plea of my return from the Holy Land, I obtained
permission to see this venerable and illustrious pontiff. I carried with
me one of my rosaries.
2. He received me with great kindness. I tendered my services to execute
any commissions, not political ones, he might think fit to intrust me
with, in Italy, informing him that I was an Englishman: he expressed his
thanks, but declined troubling me. I told him that I was just returned
from the Holy Land; and, bowing, with great humility, offered him my
rosary from the Holy Sepulchre.