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ing sea; around, but not closely envel- “ A great, a splendid genius!” said my oping her, a driving fog-bank, lurid in friend, quietly. the yellow sheen of the setting sun; above “ And a fisherman ?” her, a few stars dimly twinkling through “Yes, and shoemaker.” a clear blue sky; on the quarter-deck, “What a magnificent career he might men sitting, wrapped in all the para- make! Why don't you help him? What phernalia of storm-clothing, smoking and a pity to bury such a man in fish-boots watching the roll of the sea.

and cod-livers !" “ What do you think ? ” asked Captain “My dear —," said Captain Eastwick, Eastwick, interrupting my rapt contem- you are a goose. The highest genius plation.

lives above the littleness of making a ca“I never in my life saw so fine a sea- reer. This man needs no Academy prizes view. Whose can it be?”

or praises. To my mind, his is the no“ A Cape-Cod fisherman's.”

blest, happiest life of all.” " But he is a genius !” cried I, enthu- Whereupon he told me the story which siastically.

I have endeavored to relate.

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I would have killed you, if a breath
Freighted with some insensate death,


Had power to breathe your life

away, To so exhale that rose-hued clay,


That it had faded from my sight,
Like roses in a single night,


I could have killed you thus, and felt
My will a blessed doom had dealt,

Ah, would to God! then I had been
Unconscious of your scarlet sin,


Ah, when I thought your soul as white
As the white rose you wore that night,

I wondered how your mother came
To give you that sin-sullied name,

Did some remorseless, vengeful Fate,
In mockery of your lofty state,


Because you wore the branded name,
Fling over you its scarlet shame,

Magdalena ?

There is no peace for you

below That horrid heritage of woe,


There is no room for you on earth,
Accursed from your very birth,

But where the angels chant and sing,
And where the amaranth-blossoms spring,


There's room for you, who have no room
Where lower angels chant your doom,


There's room for you! The gate's ajar!
The white hands beckon from afar,


And nearer yet! they stoop! they wait!
They open wide the jasper gate,

And nearer yet! the hands stretch out!
A thousand silver trumpets shout,

Magdalena! They lift you up through floods of light ! I see your garments growing white,


And whiter still, too white to touch
The robes of us, who blamed you much,

They lift you up through floods of light!
The streaming splendor blinds my sight,

I feel the whirl of countless wings!
I lose the sense of earthly things,


The starry splendors burn anew!
The starry splendors light me through,

I gain the dizzy height! I see !
There's room for me! There's room for me,



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To begin with a mild egotism,— I do ready is, with railroad corsets and steamnot like De Sautys.

ship stays, growing small by degrees and You remember De Sauty? Perched beautifully less, she needs but the fortyon his steadfast stool, in a deserted tel- minute girdle of Puck De Sauty to so egraph-house, hard by that bay of the contract her waist at the equator that broken promise, De Sauty, like Poe's ra- any impudent traveller may span it with ven, “ still was sitting, still was sitting,” a carpet-bag and an umbrella. watching, in forlorn, but hopeful loneli- On that memorable night of the Cable ness, the paralyzed tongue of the Atlan- Celebration, when so many paper lantic Cable, to catch the utterances that terns and so many enlightened New never came for all his patient coaxing; Yorkers were sold in the name of De and ever and anon he iterated, feebly Sauty,— when all the streets and all the and more feebly, as if all his sinking soul people were alive with gas, — when we he did outpour into the words, that mel- fired off rockets and Roman candles and ancholy monotone which was his only spread-eagle speeches in illustrious existock and store,—“ All right! De Sau- berance,- when the city children lit their ty."

little dips, and the City Fathers lit their I never did like ravens, and I do not City Hall, — when we hung out our banlike De Sautys; for if, indeed, it were all ners, and clanged our bells, and bangright with the De Sautys, it would be all

ed our guns,

when there was Glory to wrong with certain things that are most God in the highest steeple, and Peace dear to the romantic part of me; since on Earth in the lowest cellar,–I drifted De Sauty is to my imagination the living down the Broadway current of a mighty type of that indiscriminate sacrilege of flood of folk, a morose and miserable trade which would penetrate the beau- sentimentalist. tiful illusions of remoteness, as through I had seen locomotives, those Yankee an opera-glass, — which would tie the Juggernauts, drive, roaring and ruthless, ends of the earth together and toss it over the beautiful bodies of fine old travover shoulder like a peddler's bundle, to ellers' fictions; and once, in Burmah, I "swop" quaint curiosities, inspiring rel- had beheld a herd of stately elephants ics, and solemn symbols, for British prints plunge and scoot, scampering and squealor American pig-iron. Puck us no Pucks, ing, like pigs on a railroad, away from De Sauty, nor constrict our planet's ro- the steam scream of a new-fangled mantundity with any forty-minute girdle ; for of-war. I had witnessed those monstrous in these days of inflating crinoline and sacrileges, and survived, ever-increasing circumference of hooped when locomotive and steamer were passskirts, it becomes us to leave our Mother ed, picked up my beautiful fictions again, Earth at least in the fashion, nor strive and called back my panic-stricken eleto reduce her to such unmodish dimen- phants with the gong of imagination ; but sions that one may circumnavigate her in here were Gulliver and Aladdin and as little time, comparatively, as he may Sinbad the Sailor torn from their goldmake the circuit of Miss Flora MacFlim- en thrones, and this insolent De Sauty, sey.

crowned with zinc and copper and scepI beseech you, do not call that non- tred with gutta-percha, set up in their sense ; it is but a good-natured way of places to the tune of “ All Right." stating the case in the aspect it presents “I will build you a house of gold, and from the De Sauty point of view; for you shall be my Padshah Begum, some tightly laced as poor Mother Earth al- day," said the whimsically cruel King of


had even,


Oude to Nuna, his favorite Cashmere ing-Book,-about pumps for Afric's sundancing-girl.

ny fountains, and Fulton ferry-boats for For a while Nuna's dreams were gold- India's coral strand; but there's nothing en. But the time came when the King in what the Atlantic Cable gives, like that was not in the vein. He followed va- it takes away from the heart of the man cantly her most enchanting undulations who has looked the Sphinx in the face and yawned listlessly.

and dreamed with the Brahmin under his “* Boppery bopp!” he exclaimed, pres- own banian. Spare the shrinking Nuently, “but this bores us.

Is there no nas of our poetry your Europe-fashions ! better fun? Let us have a quail-fight, Because the De Sautys are scientificalKhan."

ly virtuous, shall there be no more barThe Khan rose to order in the quails. baric cakes and ale for us? Because The King gazed on Nuna with languid they are joined to their improved Shangsatiety.

haes, must we let our phænixes alone ? "I wonder how she would look, Eu- Must we deny our crocodiles when they rope-fashion."

preach to us codfish? And shall we ab “ Nothing is easier, Sire, than to see stain from crying, “ In the name of the how she would look," said the Khan, as Prophet, figs !” in order that they may he returned with the quails.

bawl, “ In the name of Brother Jonathan, So a gown, and other articles of Eu- doughnuts”? ropean female attire, were sent for to the Yes, the world is visibly shrinking in Khan's house ; for he was a married man; the hard grip of commerce, and the magic and when they were brought, Nuna was and the marvels that filled our childish told to retire and put them on. The souls with adventurous longing are fadquail-fight proceeded on the table. ing away in the change. Let us make

Then Nuna reappeared in her new haste, then, before it is too late,— before costume. A more miserable transforma- the very Sphinx is guessed, and the tion it is hardly possible to imagine. The Boodh himself baptized in Croton water; clothes hung loosely about her, in forlorn and, like the Dutchmen in Hans Christian dowdyness. She felt that she was ridicu- Andersen's story, who put on the galoches lous. All grace was gone, all beauty. It of happiness and stepped out into the Midwas distressing to witness her mortified dle Ages, let us slip our feet into the sanplight.

dals of imagination and step out into the The King and the Khan laughed heart- desert or the jungle. ily, while scalding tears coursed down One who expressed his Oriental expepoor Nuna's cheeks. The other nautch- riences in an epic of fresh and thrilling girls, jealous, had no pity for her; they sensations has written, — “ If a man be chuckled at her disgrace, turning up their not born of his mother with a natural pretty noses, as they whispered,—“Serve Chifney bit in his mouth, there comes to her right, — the brazen minx !”

him a time for loathing the wearisome For days, nay, for weeks, did poor

Nu- ways of society, - a time for not liking na thus appear, a laughing-stock. She tamed people, - a time for not dancing implored permission to leave the court, quadrilles, - a time for pretending that

a and return to her wretched home in Milton, and Shelley, and all sorts of mere Cashmere ; but that was refused. In the dead people are greater in death than midst of the Mohurrim, she suddenly dis- the first living lord of the treasury,- a appeared. There were none to inquire time, in short, for scofling and railing, for her.*

for speaking lightly of the opera, and all Oh, they may say what they please our most cherished institutions. A little about the irresistible march of civilization, while you are free and unlabelled, like and clearing the way for Webster's Spell- the ground you compass; but civilization

Private Life of an Eastern King. is coming, and coming; you and your



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much-loved waste-lands will be surely in- tourist, who formally and statedly “sets closed, and sooner or later you will be out,” in his own deliberate way, packed, brought down to a state of utter useful- marked, and paid through; he is shipped ness,— the ground will be curiously sliced like preserved meats, hermetically sealed into acres and roods and perches, and to foreign impressions, and warranted to you, for all you sit so smartly on your keep in any climate,—the same snug, saddle, you will be caught, you will be well-arranged " commercial traveller” taken up from travel, as a colt from grass, who went abroad for materials, for which to be trained, and matched, and run. you are to pay; and when he has laid in

“ All this in time: but first come Con- the necessary stock,—the identical stock tinental tours, and the moody longing for as per original advices,— he comes back Eastern travel; your native downs and again, and that is all,— the very same as moors can hold you no longer; with lar- to himself and his baggage, except that ger stride you burst away from these slips the latter is heavier by the addition of and patches of free-land,-— you thread a corpulent carpet-bag bloated with facts your way through the crowds of Europe, and figures, the aspect of the country, the and at last, on the banks of the Jordan, dimensions of monuments, the customs of you joyfully know that you are


the the people, their productions and manuvery frontier of all accustomed respecta- factures; he might as well have done his bilities.

tour around his own library, with a copy There, on the other side of the river, of Bayard Taylor's Cyclopædia of Travel, (you can swim it with one arm,) there and an assortment of stereoscopic views, reigns the people that will be like to put for all the freshness of impression or origyou to death for not being a vagrant, for inality of narrative you'll get from him,not being a robber, for not being armed from whom preserve us! Give us, rather, and houseless. There is comfort in that, that truer traveller who goes by the achealth, comfort, and strength, to one who commodation-train of Whim, and whom, is dying from very weariness of that poor, in the language of conductors, you may dear, middle-aged, deserving, accomplish- take up or put down anywhere, because ed, pedantic, pains-taking governess, Eu

he is no

“ dead-head,” nor“ ticketed rope."

through.” This is he of whom I have Better the abodes of the anthropoph- spoken elsewhere,- in the magic mirror agi, the “men whose heads do grow be- of whose memory (as to the last he saw neath their shoulders,” than no place to of this wonder or of that) “ a stony statget away to at all; for to every vigorous uesqueness prevails, to produce an effect soul there one day comes a longing, by the weirdest of all; for there every living the light of which magnificent distances thing stands arrested in the attitude or appear beautiful, and the possibilities of gesture it presented at the fine instant to infinite far-offness delicious; to the Chris- which his thought returns to find it,-tian traveller, who exults in the faith that seized in the midst, it may be, of the gay“ each remotest nation shall learn Mes- est, most spirited, or most passionate acsiah's name,” how dear is that remoteness tion,- laughter, dance, rage, conflict; and which renders the promise sublime! It is so fixed as unchangeable as the stone these considerations which make us, old- faces of the gods, forever and forever.” fashioned Pucks, whose performances go In the midst of a Burmese jungle I no farther than putting a girdle round' have tried that sad experiment by its reabout the earth in fitty months, object to verse, and, gazing into my magic mirror, telegraphs, and protest against De Sauty. have own dear home, and the

Among your books and your lectures, old, familiar faces,— all stony, pale, and you must have observed that there are dim. At such times, how painfully the several well-defined and widely distinct exile's heart is tried by the apparition of kinds of traveller. One is the professional any object, however insignificant, to which


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