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membrance, a tradition unaided by any of those out. | world will always continue the same, or that there ward helps that are afterward employed. At a later will not be ever new matters of genuine historical inperiod more regular annals succeed this mythic hand- terest. The course of things and thinking may great ing down of isolated facts. The state has its formally change. Wars may cease. Monarchy may expire. remembrancer, its ovyypapeús, or historical arranger Even democracies may become obsolete. Such of events in a connected story, and in their mutual re changes may be for the better or the worse. Faith lations. Corresponding to this, then, arises in the in may go out. Those religious dogmas and discusdividual that orderly habit of thinking which produces sions, which politicians and political economists have associations, having a similar effect in causing a regarded as such useless and troublesome intruders stricter union between the outer and inner relations into the province of history, may lose their hold upon of the soul.
the mind. Still our essential position remains un. Again, there are times when the man gets to him changed. It will not be what the masses severally seif what may be called an artificial memory. He do, but what moves the masses, not their several occu would change the natural flow of thought, and de-pations and pursuits, but what has a deep and mov termine what he will remember, and what he ought to | ing interest for the common national soul, that will remember—forgetting that before he can effectually constitute history. The wars of the White and Red do this he must be changed himself in the innermost | Roses were the true history of England for that peri. springs of his being. He studies mnemonics. He od, because they were the only subjects that could be manufactures new laws of association. But this said to occupy all minds alike. It was not because effort ever fails in the end. Nature will have her the chronicler forgot the masses, and thought only of way. The old course of memory will return; and the great, but because he wrote for the masses, and with it the spiritual history of the man will go on for the masses not only of his own time, but of times as before.
to come. So, too, the state or nation may have its artificial | Events may have more or less of a personal con. periods, and its systems of political mnemonics. The nection with monarchs, but it would not follow from mythical, the epic, the heroic, and not only these, but this that the history which records them is a history the later, yet not less thrilling chronicles of stirring alone of kings and statesmen. It is only so far as events that carried with them the whole heart of the they and their acts were the representatives of the national humanity, give way to statistics, and docu-national heart, and the national thought, that they ments of trade, or tables of revenue, or in a word, to came down in the national memory, and the national what are deemed the more important records of polit- records. The separate ordinary pursuits of men may, ical economy. Here, too, there may be an attempt to l in one sense, occupy more of our ordinary thinking, change the course of nature, and make that to be his. but the other or historic interest we recognize as be. tory which never can be such, except at the expense ing of a higher, a more exciting, and even a more ab. of some of those attributes, which, although liable to sorbing kind, because belonging to us, and felt by us great and dangerous perversions, are still the noblest in common with multitudes of other souls. The me. parts of our humanity.
chanic or farmer may consult books of a professional Such artificial records of history may be highly use or statistical nature, but as history they will be ever ful in their connection with the interests of particular unreadable. Even in the workshop and in the field, classes and occupations. The time also may come although the habitual current of his thoughts may be in which they may gather around them an antiquarian upon what would seem to him the nearest, and therevalue, blending with some of the more universal emo- fore the more important concerns of life, these other tions of our common nature. But aside from this, al. elements of history will yet have the greater charm, though they may furnish rich materials for other de- and occupy a higher place both in his feelings and his partments of useful knowledge, they are not history, intelligence, simply because they lack that catholic element, by It is what he thinks with others that constitutes which alone they enter into the common mem the higher life of his being. Hence the tendency ory, and thus become a part of the common national of the popular mind, in all ages, to be absorbed mind.
in the recital of deeds most remote from the daily Some say the world has heretofore been all wrong associations of ordinary life. Hence the popularity in the matter. History has been but a record of wars, of the rhapsodist, the minstrel, the chronicler, and, of tumultuous national movements, of thcological dog. in our own age, of the Magazine and the Newspamas, of religious and political excitements. It has per. Hence, too, in the more free and popular gov. been but the biography of monarchs and royal fami- ernments of modern times, the universal devotion to lies, or a narrative of popular commotions as con- what is called politics. Why is the farmer more exnected with them. It has presented us only with cited by an election than by the sale of his wheat ? names of isolated pre-eminence. The time has now Most false as well as unphilosophical is the view come when we “must change all that." The daily which would ascribe this to any calculating patriot. pursuits of the masses, and all the statistics of ordinism, to any utilitarian vigilance, or to what is comary life-these ought to have been history, and good monly called an enlightened self-interest. The me. writers will henceforth make them so, not only for chanic thinks more of politics than of his trade; for our times, but for the periods that are past. “The the same reason that led his ancestor to the crusade history of the world,” it has been said, “is yet to be or the tournament. Instead of being the offspring of written.” But, alas ! for these plausible and philan- utilitarian views, this public spirit is often most blind. thropic reforms, there are two serious obstacles in ly destructive of the private interest, and most direct. the way. In the first place, the records of such mat. | ly opposed to all the teachings of that political econ. ters as they would make the grounds of history are omy which recognizes its own utilities as alone the too scanty and uncertain, because they never have true and rational ends of human action. In a much had that catholic interest which would give them an higher sense, too, is all this true, when a religious abiding place in the common national memory. In element enters into the common or catholic feeling. the second place, it will be equally difficult to secure To illustrate the view we have endeavored to prefor them such lodgment in the universal thinking of sent, let us select some particular date--say the 5th the present age, or of ages yet to come. Not that the day of March, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and seventy. What was the history | along like a stream of molten silver, but resembles of our own country for that day? What the masses nothing so much as the mud-river of Styx-"darker were doing would be the answer which some of the far than perse" of the great Florentine; and instead new school would promptly make. But even could of the fairy-like sleighs of be month gone by, is trav. this be ascertained it would not be history. On that ersed only by the lumbering omnibuses, scattering far day the three millions of our land were engaged in and wide the inky fluid. To cross the street dry-shod the various avocations connected with their ordinary is not to be thought of, save at one or two points life and ordinary interests. On that day, too, there where philanthropic tradesmen, mindful of the pubwas a particular, and, perhaps, ascertainable state of lic good—and their own-have subsidized a troop of agriculture, of the mechanic arts, of education, &c., sweepers to clear a passage in front of their doors. such as might furnish the ground of a most valuable We accept the favor with all graiitude, and do not statistical essay. There were also, doubtless, thou. inquire too closely into the stories of silver goblets, sands of striking incidents every where transpiring presented by grateful ladies to these public benefac But none of these constituted the then history of our tors. Under such circumstances all lighter matters country. This was all taking place in one narrow of gossip are things of the past—and of the future, street of one single city, away off in one remote cor- let us hope. ner of our land. A quarrel had arisen between a few foreign soldiers and a collection of exasperated citi. | Into the current of graver talk several pebbles zens, in the course of which some few of the latter have been thrown, which have rippled its surface were slain. In this event was centred, for the time, into circlets wider than usual. The meeting in comthe whole history of the English colonies in North memoration of Cooper was a worthy tribute to the America, and of what afterward became the great memory of one who has shed honor upon his country American nation. Among all the acts and states, by adding new forms of beauty to the intellectual and influences of that day, this alone was history, be wealth of the world. It was singularly graceful and cause it alone, whether right or not, entered into the appropriate that the funeral discourse of the greatest universal national memory. It was thought by all, American Novelist, should have been pronounced by felt by all, and therefore became, for the time in the greatest American Poet—and should we say the which it was so thought and felt, the one common greatest living poet who speaks the tongue of Milton history of all. Again-on the 19th day of April, and Shakspeare, who would dare to place another 1775, the one fact which afterward formed the com- name in competition for the honor with that of Ber. mon thought and the common memory, was the bat- ANT? tle of Lexington. On the 4th of July, 1776, it was the Declaration of American Independence. On the Public “ LECTURES," or the “Lyceum," as one 23d day of September, 1780, there might havc been of the lecturing notabilities not very selicitously deseen, in a secluded valley of the Hudson, three rus. nominates the institution, had begun to assume a lic militia men busily examining the dress of a Brit. somewhat mythical character in the estimation of ish officer. One of them is in the act of taking a townsmen, as relics of ages long gone by, of which piece of paper from the prisoner's boot. This, in a man's memory—the Metropolitan man's, that ismost emphatic sense, was American history for that takes no note. We have indeed had rumors from day; may we not say the history of Europe also, and the “ Athens of America," and other far-away places, of the world. And so in other departments. A sin. that Lectures had not fallen into utter desuetude: gle man is standing before a company of statesmen but we were, on the whole, inclined to put little faith and ecclesiastics. It is Luther before the Diet of in the reports. During the last few weeks, however, Worms. This is the one common thought which rep- the matter has again forced its way into the town resents tbat momentous period in the records of the talk. The “Tabernacle" weekly opens its pon. Church. The subject tempts us with further illus. derous jaws, for the delivery of the “ People's Lee. trations, but we call to mind that our Drawer and tures," where, for the not very alarming sum of one Easy Chair are waiting impatiently for the delivery shilling-with a deduction in cases where a gentleof their contents. It is time, therefore, to exchange man is accompanied by more ladies than onethe prosings of the Editor's Table for their more person may listen for an hour to the mystic elocution varied, and, as we trust the reader will judge, more and seer-like deliverances of EMERSON, or may hear aitractive materials.
KANE depict the dreamy remembrances of those Hyperborean regions where sunrise and sunset are by no means those every day occurrences that they are in more equatorial regions. To us, as we sit in our Easy Chair, it seems as though this system of cheap popular public lectures were capable of almost
indefinite expansion. Why should not SILLIMAN OUR now, when we write, stands morally as far off Guyot address three thousand instead of three hun. U from what will be now to our readers, when this dred hearers? Why should they not unswathe the sheet comes before them, as though the interval meas- world from its swaddling-clothes before an audience ured half the circumference of the Ecliptic, instead which would fill our largest halls? Why should not of being bounded between these dull March days and ORVILLE Dewey discourse on the great problems the bright April morning, when our Magazine will of Human Destiny and Progress before an assen. be lying by many an open window from Maine to blage which should people the cavernous depths of Georgia. Our Easy Chair chit-chat must take its the “ Tabernacle," as well as before the audience, coloring from our now, and not from that of our relatively small, though doubtless fit, assembled be. readers.
fore the frescoes of the Church of the Messiah? We
throw these suggestions out lightly, by way of hint. The town has just woke up from its wintry car. a graver consideration of them would belong rather nival of sleighs and bells, and wears much the aspect to our Table than to our Easy Chair discourses. of a reveler who is paying the penalty for too free over-night potations. Broadway no longer flows. As a sort of pendant to the nine-days' talk of the
Editor's Easq Chair.
Forrest divorce case, we notice the unanimous ver. 1 --in his most rapt and glowing manner. It was the
anxious seat. His labors were fruitless.
ing, were aroused; and soon the strange electric This is not the place to discuss the stringent sympathy of mind with mind was excited. The emo* Maine Liquor Law," which is proposed for adoption spread and increased ; the anxious seats were tion in the Empire State ; but we can not avoid thronged; and a powerful, and to all appearance genchronicling the almost sublime assumption of one uine revival of religion ensued. The character of of its opponents, who challenged its advocates to Woodville was entirely changed; and from that time name any man of lofty genius who was not a “toddy- it has continued to be one of the most moral, quiet, drinker.” As this side of the measure seems sadly thriving, and prosperous of all the minor towns upon in want of both speakers and arguments, we consider the Mississippi. ourselves entitled to the gratitude of the opponents of the law, for insinuating to them that the defense of | TURNING our eye Paris-ward, our first emotion is punch hy Fielding's hero, that it was “a good whole- one of sorrow-for their sakes and our own-at the some liquor, nowhere spoken against in Scripture," present sad fate of our French brethren of the quill. is capable of almost indefinite extension and appli The bayonet has pitted itself against the pen, and has cation.
come off victor-for the time being. The most imme
diate sufferers are doubtless political writers, who A SOMEWHAT characteristic reminiscence of John must stretch their lucubrations upon the Procrustean NEWLAND MAFfitt has been lying for a long while bed furnished by the Prince-President. But the in our mind; and we can not do better than accord sparkling feuilletonists who blow up such brilliant bubto it the honors of paper and ink. It happened years bles of romance from the prosaic soap-and-water of ago, when that eccentric preacher was in the height every-day life, can not escape. How can Fancy have of his reputation; when he was, or at least thought free play when the Fate-like shears of the Censure or he was in earnest; before the balance of his mind had the mace of the new press-law are suspended over its been destroyed by adulation, conceit, vanity, and head? Besides, the lynx-eye of despotism may detect something worse.
a covert political allusion in the most finely-wrought During these days, in one of his journeyings, he romance of domestic life. The delicate touches by came to a place on the Mississippi-perhaps its name which the feuilletonist sought to depict the fate of the was not Woodville, but that shall be its designation deserted girl whose body was fished up from the Seine, for the occasion. Now, Woodville was the most no may be thought to bear too strongly upon the fate of toriously corrupt place on the whole river; it was the poor LIBERTÉ, betrayed and deserted by her quonsink into which all the filth of the surrounding coun. dam adorer, the Nephew of his Uncle; in which case, try was poured; it was shunned like a pest-house, the writer would find himself forced to repent of his and abandoned to thieves, gamblers, desperadoes, and pathos behind the gratings of a cell, while his pub robbers.
lisher's pocket would suffer the forfeiture of the 'cauMaffitt determined to labor in this uninviting field. tion-money.' Parisian gossip can not, under such He commenced preaching, and soon gathered an au. circumstances, furnish us any thing very lively, but dience ; for preaching was something new there ; and must content itself with chronicling the brilliant but besides, Maffitt's silvery tones and strange flashes of tiresome receptions of the Elysée. eloquence would at that time attract an audience any An occasional claw is however protruded through where. Those who knew the man only in his later the velvet paws upon which French society creeps Fears know nothing of him.
along so daintily in these critical days, showing that Day after day he preached, but all to no purpose. the propensity to scratch is not extinct, though for He portrayed the bliss of heaven--its purity and peace the present, as far as the President and his doings
are concerned, “I dare not waits upon I would” in soothe her with chlorofonn. Once more she is inght the cat-like Parisian salon life.
ened into a consent.
But the Chevalier is now determined to make The subject of gossip most thoroughly French in assurance doubly sure; and demands a written agree. its character, which has of late days passed current, ment to marry him, under penalty of the forfeiture is one of which the final scene was Genoa, and the of half her fortune, in case of refusal. To this the prominent actor unfortunately an American. Wé lady consents: and the ardent admirer leaves the touch upon the leading points of this as they pass room to order a carriage to convey her to her boleh current from lip to lip.
She seizes the opportunity to make her escape. Our readers have no great cause of regret if they | On the day following, the adventurous Chevalier have never before heard of, or have entirely forgotten, involuntarily makes the acquaintance of the Intend. a certain so-called “ Chevalier” WYKOFF, who, a ant of Police, and finds that his "bold stroke for a few years since, gained an unenviable notoriety, in wife" is like to entail upon him certain disagreeable certain circles in this country, as the personal at- consequences in the shape of abundant opportunity tendant of the famous danseuse, FANNY ELSSLER. | for reflection, while a compulsory guest of the public Since that time the Chevalier has occasionally shown authorities of Genoa. his head above water in connection with Politics, Ought not the Chevalier WYKOFF to have been a Literature, Fashion, and Frolic.
Frenchman ? In due course of years the Chevalier grew older if not wiser, and became anxious to assume the responsibilities of a wife-provided that she was possessed of a fortune. It chanced that, about these THE following anecdote of a legal gentleman of times, a lady whom he had known for many years, 1 Missouri, was compiled many years ago froin a without having experienced any touches of the ten- newspaper of that State. There is a racy freshness der passion, was left an orphan with a large fortune. about it that is quite delightful: The sympathizing Chevalier was prompt with his Being once opposed to Mr.
S t hen lately a condolences at lier irreparable loss, and soon es. member of Congress, he remarked as follows to the tablished himself in the character of confidential jury, upon some point of disagreement between them: friend,
"Here my brother S- and I differ materially. The lady decides to visit the Continent to recruit Now this, after all, is very natural. Men seldom see her shattered health. The Chevalier--sympathizing things in the same light; and they may disagree in friend that he isis at once convinced that there is l opinion upon the simplest principles of the law, and for him no place like the Continent.
that very honestly; while, at the same time, neither, Having watched the pear till he supposed it fully perhaps, can perceive any earthly reason why they ripe, the ex-squire to the danseuse proposed to shake should. And this is merely because they look at difthe tree. One evening he announced that he must ferent sides of the subject, and do not view it in all depart on the morrow, and handed the lady a for. its bearings. midable document, which he requested her to read, “Now, let us suppose, for the sake of illustration, and to advise him in respect to its contents.
that a man should come into this court-room, and The document proved to be a letter to another boldly assert that my brother S- 's head" (here lady, a friend of both parties, announcing a deliberate he laid his hand very familiarly upon the lare intention of offering his fine person, though somewhat “chuckle-head" of his opponent)" is a squash! I, on the worse for wear, to the lady who was reading the the other hand, should maintain, and perhaps with letter addressed to her friend. This proposal in the equal confidence, that it was a head. Now, bere third person met with little favor, and the Chevalier would be difference-doubtless an honest difference received a decided negative in the second person. 1-of opinion. We might argue about it till doom's.
The Chevalier, however, saw too many solid day, and never agree. You often see men arguing charms in the object of his passion to yield the point upon subjects just as empty and trifling as this! But so easily. The lady returns to London, and lo! a third person coming in, and looking at the neck and there is the Chevalier. She flees to Paris, and thither shoulders that support it, would say at once that I he hies. She hurries to Switzerland, and one morn had reason on my side ; for if it was not a head, it at ing as she looks out of the Hospice of St. Bernard, least occupied the place of one : it stood where a head she is greeted with the Chevalier's most finished ought to be !" bow of recognition. She walks by the Lake of All this was uttered in the gravest and most sol. Geneva, and her shadow floats upon its waters by emn manner imaginable, and the effect was irresist. the side of that of her indefatigable adorer. He ibly ludicrous. watches his opportunity and seizes her hand, mut. tering low words of love and adoration; and as a I WASHINGTON IRVING, in one of his admirable company of pleasure-seekers to whom they are known sketches of Dutch character, describes an old worthy, approaches, he raises his voice so as to be heard, with a long eel-skin queue, a sort of covering that and declares that he will not release the hand until was “a potent nourisher and strengthener of the he receives a promise of its future ownership. Be hair." This was in “other times;" and here is a wildered and confused, the lady whispers a “Yes," “ Tail" of that remote period : and is for the moment set at liberty. No sooner is
“A Tale I'll tell of " other times," she fairly rid of him than she retracts her promise,
Because I'm in the mind : and forbids her adorer the house.
You may have seen the tale before, She again flies to the Continent to avoid him. He
I've seen it oft behind. follows upon her track, bribes couriers and servants
“There's no detraction in this talo, all along her route, and finally manages at Genoa to
Nor any vile attack, get her into a house which he declares to be full of
Or slander when 'tis told, although bis dependents. He locks the door, and declares
It goes behind one's back. that marry him she must and shall. She resuses, * Impartial auditors it had, and makes an outcry. He seizes her and tries to
Who ne'er began to rail,
Bacause there always was an ear
“Ah!" cried Rabelais, with an honest pride, as For both sides of the tale.
his friends were weeping around his sick bed; “if I " But oh, alas! I have forgot,
were to die ten times over, I shouid never make you I am not in the queue ;
cry half so much as I have made you laugh!" The tale has just dropped from my head,
After all, if laughter be genuine, and consequently As it was wont to do!"
a means of innocent enjoyment, can it be inept ? A CLERGYMAN in one of our New England villages Taylor, an English author, relates in his “Rec once preached a sermon, which one of his auditors ords," that having restored to sight a boy who had commended
been born blind, the lad was perpetually amusing "Yes," said a gentleman to whom it was mention- himself with a hand-glass, calling his own reflection ed, " it was a good sermon, but he stole it !" his "little man," and inquiring why he could make
This was told to the preacher. He resented it, at it do every thing he did, except to shut its eyes. A once, and called upon his parishioner to retract what French lover, making a present of a mirror to his he had said.
mistress, sent with it the following lines : “I am not," replied the aggressor, “very apt to re
“This mirror my object of love will unfold, tract any thing I may have said, for I usually weigh
Whensoe'er your regard it allures; my words before I speak them. But in this instance
Oh, would, when I'm gazing, that I might behold I will retract. I said you had stolen the sermon. I On its surface the object of yours.!"
find, however, that I was wrong; for on returning > home, and referring to the book whence I thought it
This is very delicate and pretty ; but the following had been taken. I found it there, word for word!" old epigram, on the same subject, is in even a much The angry clergyman “left the presence,” with an
finer strain : apparent consciousness that he bad made very little by
“When I revoive this evanescent state,
How feeting is its form, how short its date;
Not on my own, but on another's will:
I ask myself, as I my image view,
Which is the real shadow of the two ?" ers : we have now “the honor to present" some curious characteristics of the kinds of materiel which It is a little singular, but it is true, that scarcely hare regaled the nostrils of so many persons who any native writer has succeeded better in giving what were “up to snuff.”
is termed the true “ Yankee dialect," than a foreigner, LUNDY Foot, the celebrated snuff-manufacturer, an Englishman, Judge Haliburton, of Nova Scotia, originally kept a small tobacconist's shop at Limerick, “Sam Slick.” Hear him describe a pretty, heartless Ireland. One night his house, which was uninsured, bar-maid, whom he met at the “Liner's Hotel, in was burnt to the ground. As he contemplated the smok- Liverpool :" ing ruins on the following morning, in a state border What a tall, well-made, handsome piece of furni. ing on despair, some of the poor neighbors, groping ture she is, ain't she, though? Look at her hairamong the embers for what they could find, stumbled ain't it neat? And her clothes fit so well, and her upon several canisters of unconsumed but half-baked cap is so white, and her complexion so clear, and snuff, which they tried, and sound so grateful to their she looks so good-natured, and smiles so sweet, it noses, that they loaded their waistcoat pockets with does one good to look at her. She's a whole team the spoil.
and a horse to spare, that's a fact. I go and call for Lundy Foot, roused from his stupor, at length three or four more glasses than I want, every day, imitated their example, and took a pinch of his own just for the sake of talking to her. She always says, property, when he was instantly struck by the supe. " What will you be pleased to have, sir!' rior pungency and flavor it had acquired from the “• Something,' says I, that I can't have,' looking great heat to which it had been exposed. Treasuring at her pretty mouth-about the wickedest. up this valuable hint, he took another house in a place “Well, she laughs, for she knows well enough called “ Black-Yard," and, preparing a large oven for what I mean; and she says, the purpose, set diligently about the manufacture of “. Pr’aps you'll have a glass of bitters, sir,' and off that high-dried commodity, which soon became widely she goes to get it. known as “ Black-Yard Snuff;" a term subsequently « Well, this goes on three or four times a day; corrupted into the more familiar word, “ Blackguard." every time the identical same tune, only with varia
Lundy Foot, making his customers pay liberally tions. It wasn't a great while afore I was there through the nosc for one of the most“ distinguished” agin. kinds of snuffs in the world, soon raised the price of I "• What will you be pleased to have, sir?' said she his production, took a larger house in the city of Dub-agin, laughin'. lin, and was often heard to say,
« • Something I can't git,' says I, a-laughin' too. “I made a very handsome fortune by being, as I and lettin' off sparks from my eyes like a blacksmith's supposed, utterly ruined !”
“ • You can't tell that till you try,' says she ; but SoreBODY has described Laughter as “a faculty you can have your bitters at any rate ;' and she goes bestowed exclusively upon man," and one which agin and draws a glass, and gives it to me,
here is, therefore, a sort of impiety in not exercising “Now she's seen you before, and knows you very as frequently as we can. One may say, with Titus, well. Just you go to her and see how nicely she'll that we have “lost a day," if it shall have passed curtshy, how pretty she'll smile, and how lady-like without laughing. “An inch of laugh is worth an she'll say, ell of moan in any state of the market,” says one of “How do you do, sir? I hope you are quite the old English “ Fathers.” Pilgrims at the shrine well, sir? Have you just arrived? Here, chamber. of Mecca consider laughter so essential a part of their maid, show this gentleman up to Number Two Hun. devotion that they call upon their prophet to preserve dred. Sorry, sir, we are so full, but to-morrow we them from sad faces.
will move you into a better room. Thomas, take up