首页 >出版文学> THE SNOW IMAGE>第3章

第3章

  "Youmakethelittlemantobeafraid,Captain,"saidtheGermanJew,turningupthedarkandstrongoutlineofhisvisagefromhisstoopingposture。"Butlookagain,and,bychance,Ishallcauseyoutoseesomewhatthatisveryfine,uponmyword!"
  EthanBrandgazedintotheboxforaninstant,andthenstartingback,lookedfixedlyattheGerman。Whathadheseen?Nothing,apparently;foracuriousyouth,whohadpeepedinalmostatthesamemoment,beheldonlyavacantspaceofcanvas。
  "Irememberyounow,"mutteredEthanBrandtotheshowman。
  "Ah,Captain,"whisperedtheJewofNuremberg,withadarksmile,"Ifindittobeaheavymatterinmyshow-box,——thisUnpardonableSin!Bymyfaith,Captain,ithasweariedmyshoulders,thislongday,tocarryitoverthemountain。"
  "Peace,"answeredEthanBrand,sternly,"orgettheeintothefurnaceyonder!"
  TheJew’sexhibitionhadscarcelyconcluded,whenagreat,elderlydog——whoseemedtobehisownmaster,asnopersoninthecompanylaidclaimtohim——sawfittorenderhimselftheobjectofpublicnotice。Hitherto,hehadshownhimselfaveryquiet,well-disposedolddog,goingroundfromonetoanother,and,bywayofbeingsociable,offeringhisroughheadtobepattedbyanykindlyhandthatwouldtakesomuchtrouble。Butnow,allofasudden,thisgraveandvenerablequadruped,ofhisownmeremotion,andwithouttheslightestsuggestionfromanybodyelse,begantorunroundafterhistail,which,toheightentheabsurdityoftheproceeding,wasagreatdealshorterthanitshouldhavebeen。Neverwasseensuchheadlongeagernessinpursuitofanobjectthatcouldnotpossiblybeattained;neverwasheardsuchatremendousoutbreakofgrowling,snarling,barking,andsnapping,——asifoneendoftheridiculousbrute’sbodywereatdeadlyandmostunforgivableenmitywiththeother。Fasterandfaster,roundaboutwentthecur;andfasterandstillfasterfledtheunapproachablebrevityofhistail;andlouderandfiercergrewhisyellsofrageandanimosity;until,utterlyexhausted,andasfarfromthegoalasever,thefoolisholddogceasedhisperformanceassuddenlyashehadbegunit。
  Thenextmomenthewasasmild,quiet,sensible,andrespectableinhisdeportment,aswhenhefirstscrapedacquaintancewiththecompany。
  Asmaybesupposed,theexhibitionwasgreetedwithuniversallaughter,clappingofhands,andshoutsofencore,towhichthecanineperformerrespondedbywaggingallthattherewastowagofhistail,butappearedtotallyunabletorepeathisverysuccessfulefforttoamusethespectators。
  Meanwhile,EthanBrandhadresumedhisseatuponthelog,andmoved,asitmightbe,byaperceptionofsomeremoteanalogybetweenhisowncaseandthatofthisself-pursuingcur,hebrokeintotheawfullaugh,which,morethananyothertoken,expressedtheconditionofhisinwardbeing。Fromthatmoment,themerrimentofthepartywasatanend;theystoodaghast,dreadinglesttheinauspicioussoundshouldbereverberatedaroundthehorizon,andthatmountainwouldthunderittomountain,andsothehorrorbeprolongedupontheirears。Then,whisperingonetoanotherthatitwaslate,——thatthemoonwasalmostdown,-thattheAugustnightwasgrowingchill,——theyhurriedhomewards,leavingthelime-burnerandlittleJoetodealastheymightwiththeirunwelcomeguest。Saveforthesethreehumanbeings,theopenspaceonthehill-sidewasasolitude,setinavastgloomofforest。Beyondthatdarksomeverge,thefirelightglimmeredonthestatelytrunksandalmostblackfoliageofpines,intermixedwiththelighterverdureofsaplingoaks,maples,andpoplars,whilehereandtherelaythegiganticcorpsesofdeadtrees,decayingontheleaf-strewnsoil。AnditseemedtolittleJoe——atimorousandimaginativechild——thatthesilentforestwasholdingitsbreathuntilsomefearfulthingshouldhappen。
  EthanBrandthrustmorewoodintothefire,andclosedthedoorofthekiln;thenlookingoverhisshoulderatthelime-burnerandhisson,hebade,ratherthanadvised,themtoretiretorest。
  "Formyself,Icannotsleep,"saidhe。"Ihavemattersthatitconcernsmetomeditateupon。Iwillwatchthefire,asIusedtodointheoldtime。"
  "AndcalltheDeviloutofthefurnacetokeepyoucompany,I
  suppose,"mutteredBartram,whohadbeenmakingintimateacquaintancewiththeblackbottleabovementioned。"Butwatch,ifyoulike,andcallasmanydevilsasyoulike!Formypart,I
  shallbeallthebetterforasnooze。Come,Joe!"
  Astheboyfollowedhisfatherintothehut,helookedbackatthewayfarer,andthetearscameintohiseyes,forhistenderspirithadanintuitionofthebleakandterriblelonelinessinwhichthismanhadenvelopedhimself。
  Whentheyhadgone,EthanBrandsatlisteningtothecracklingofthekindledwood,andlookingatthelittlespirtsoffirethatissuedthroughthechinksofthedoor。Thesetrifles,however,oncesofamiliar,hadbuttheslightestholdofhisattention,whiledeepwithinhismindhewasreviewingthegradualbutmarvellouschangethathadbeenwroughtuponhimbythesearchtowhichhehaddevotedhimself。Herememberedhowthenightdewhadfallenuponhim,——howthedarkforesthadwhisperedtohim,——howthestarshadgleameduponhim,——asimpleandlovingman,watchinghisfireintheyearsgoneby,andevermusingasitburned。Herememberedwithwhattenderness,withwhatloveandsympathyformankindandwhatpityforhumanguiltandwoe,hehadfirstbeguntocontemplatethoseideaswhichafterwardsbecametheinspirationofhislife;withwhatreverencehehadthenlookedintotheheartofman,viewingitasatempleoriginallydivine,and,howeverdesecrated,stilltobeheldsacredbyabrother;withwhatawfulfearhehaddeprecatedthesuccessofhispursuit,andprayedthattheUnpardonableSinmightneverberevealedtohim。Thenensuedthatvastintellectualdevelopment,which,initsprogress,disturbedthecounterpoisebetweenhismindandheart。TheIdeathatpossessedhislifehadoperatedasameansofeducation;ithadgoneoncultivatinghispowerstothehighestpointofwhichtheyweresusceptible;ithadraisedhimfromthelevelofanunletteredlaborertostandonastar-liteminence,whitherthephilosophersoftheearth,ladenwiththeloreofuniversities,mightvainlystrivetoclamberafterhim。Somuchfortheintellect!Butwherewastheheart?That,indeed,hadwithered,——hadcontracted,——hadhardened,——hadperished!Ithadceasedtopartakeoftheuniversalthrob。Hehadlosthisholdofthemagneticchainofhumanity。Hewasnolongerabrother-man,openingthechambersorthedungeonsofourcommonnaturebythekeyofholysympathy,whichgavehimarighttoshareinallitssecrets;hewasnowacoldobserver,lookingonmankindasthesubjectofhisexperiment,and,atlength,convertingmanandwomantobehispuppets,andpullingthewiresthatmovedthemtosuchdegreesofcrimeasweredemandedforhisstudy。
  ThusEthanBrandbecameafiend。Hebegantobesofromthemomentthathismoralnaturehadceasedtokeepthepaceofimprovementwithhisintellect。Andnow,ashishighesteffortandinevitabledevelopment,——asthebrightandgorgeousflower,andrich,deliciousfruitofhislife’slabor,——hehadproducedtheUnpardonableSin!
  "WhatmorehaveItoseek?whatmoretoachieve?"saidEthanBrandtohimself。"Mytaskisdone,andwelldone!"
  Startingfromthelogwithacertainalacrityinhisgaitandascendingthehillockofearththatwasraisedagainstthestonecircumferenceofthelime-kiln,hethusreachedthetopofthestructure。Itwasaspaceofperhapstenfeetacross,fromedgetoedge,presentingaviewoftheuppersurfaceoftheimmensemassofbrokenmarblewithwhichthekilnwasheaped。Alltheseinnumerableblocksandfragmentsofmarblewereredhotandvividlyonfire,sendingupgreatspoutsofblueflame,whichquiveredaloftanddancedmadly,aswithinamagiccircle,andsankandroseagain,withcontinualandmultitudinousactivity。
  Asthelonelymanbentforwardoverthisterriblebodyoffire,theblastingheatsmoteupagainsthispersonwithabreaththat,itmightbesupposed,wouldhavescorchedandshrivelledhimupinamoment。
  EthanBrandstooderect,andraisedhisarmsonhigh。Theblueflamesplayeduponhisface,andimpartedthewildandghastlylightwhichalonecouldhavesuiteditsexpression;itwasthatofafiendonthevergeofplungingintohisgulfofintensesttorment。
  "OMotherEarth,"criedhe,"whoartnomoremyMother,andintowhosebosomthisframeshallneverberesolved!Omankind,whosebrotherhoodIhavecastoff,andtrampledthygreatheartbeneathmyfeet!Ostarsofheaven,thatshoneonmeofold,asiftolightmeonwardandupward!——farewellall,andforever。Come,deadlyelementofFire,-henceforthmyfamiliarfriend!Embraceme,asIdothee!"
  Thatnightthesoundofafearfulpealoflaughterrolledheavilythroughthesleepofthelime-burnerandhislittleson;dimshapesofhorrorandanguishhauntedtheirdreams,andseemedstillpresentintherudehovel,whentheyopenedtheireyestothedaylight。
  "Up,boy,up!"criedthelime-burner,staringabouthim。"ThankHeaven,thenightisgone,atlast;andratherthanpasssuchanother,Iwouldwatchmylime-kiln,wideawake,foratwelvemonth。ThisEthanBrand,withhishumbugofanUnpardonableSin,hasdonemenosuchmightyfavor,intakingmyplace!"
  Heissuedfromthehut,followedbylittleJoe,whokeptfastholdofhisfather’shand。Theearlysunshinewasalreadypouringitsgolduponthemountain-tops,andthoughthevalleyswerestillinshadow,theysmiledcheerfullyinthepromiseofthebrightdaythatwashasteningonward。Thevillage,completelyshutinbyhills,whichswelledawaygentlyaboutit,lookedasifithadrestedpeacefullyinthehollowofthegreathandofProvidence。Everydwellingwasdistinctlyvisible;thelittlespiresofthetwochurchespointedupwards,andcaughtafore-glimmeringofbrightnessfromthesun-giltskiesupontheirgildedweather-cocks。Thetavernwasastir,andthefigureoftheold,smoke-driedstage-agent,cigarinmouth,wasseenbeneaththestoop。OldGraylockwasglorifiedwithagoldenclouduponhishead。Scatteredlikewiseoverthebreastsofthesurroundingmountains,therewereheapsofhoarymist,infantasticshapes,someofthemfardownintothevalley,othershighuptowardsthesummits,andstillothers,ofthesamefamilyofmistorcloud,hoveringinthegoldradianceoftheupperatmosphere。Steppingfromonetoanotherofthecloudsthatrestedonthehills,andthencetotheloftierbrotherhoodthatsailedinair,itseemedalmostasifamortalmanmightthusascendintotheheavenlyregions。Earthwassomingledwithskythatitwasaday-dreamtolookatit。
  Tosupplythatcharmofthefamiliarandhomely,whichNaturesoreadilyadoptsintoascenelikethis,thestage-coachwasrattlingdownthemountain-road,andthedriversoundedhishorn,whileEchocaughtupthenotes,andintertwinedthemintoarichandvariedandelaborateharmony,ofwhichtheoriginalperformercouldlayclaimtolittleshare。Thegreathillsplayedaconcertamongthemselves,eachcontributingastrainofairysweetness。
  LittleJoe’sfacebrightenedatonce。
  "Dearfather,"criedhe,skippingcheerilytoandfro,"thatstrangemanisgone,andtheskyandthemountainsallseemgladofit!"
  "Yes,"growledthelime-burner,withanoath,"buthehasletthefiregodown,andnothankstohimiffivehundredbushelsoflimearenotspoiled。IfIcatchthefellowhereaboutsagain,I
  shallfeelliketossinghimintothefurnace!"
  Withhislongpoleinhishand,heascendedtothetopofthekiln。Afteramoment’spause,hecalledtohisson。
  "Comeuphere,Joe!"saidhe。
  SolittleJoeranupthehillock,andstoodbyhisfather’sside。
  Themarblewasallburntintoperfect,snow-whitelime。Butonitssurface,inthemidstofthecircle,——snow-whitetoo,andthoroughlyconvertedintolime,——layahumanskeleton,intheattitudeofapersonwho,afterlongtoil,liesdowntolongrepose。Withintheribs——strangetosay——wastheshapeofahumanheart。
  "Wasthefellow’sheartmadeofmarble?"criedBartram,insomeperplexityatthisphenomenon。"Atanyrate,itisburntintowhatlookslikespecialgoodlime;and,takingallthebonestogether,mykilnishalfabushelthericherforhim。"
  Sosaying,therudelime-burnerliftedhispole,and,lettingitfallupontheskeleton,therelicsofEthanBrandwerecrumbledintofragments。
  THECANTERBURYPILGRIMS
  Thesummermoon,whichshinesinsomanyatale,wasbeamingoverabroadextentofunevencountry。Someofitsbrightestrayswereflungintoaspringofwater,wherenotraveller,toiling,asthewriterhas,upthehillyroadbesidewhichitgushes,everfailedtoquenchhisthirst。Theworkofneathandsandconsiderateartwasvisibleaboutthisblessedfountain。Anopencistern,hewnandhollowedoutofsolidstone,wasplacedabovethewaters,whichfilledittothebrim,butbysomeinvisibleoutletwereconveyedawaywithoutdrippingdownitssides。Thoughthebasinhadnotroomforanotherdrop,andthecontinualgushofwatermadeatremoronthesurface,therewasasecretcharmthatforbadeittooverflow。Iremember,thatwhenIhadslakedmysummerthirst,andsatpantingbythecistern,itwasmyfancifultheorythatNaturecouldnotaffordtolavishsopurealiquid,asshedoesthewatersofallmeanerfountains。
  Whilethemoonwashangingalmostperpendicularlyoverthisspot,twofiguresappearedonthesummitofthehill,andcamewithnoiselessfootstepsdowntowardsthespring。Theyweretheninthefirstfreshnessofyouth;noristhereawrinklenowoneitheroftheirbrows,andyettheyworeastrange,old-fashionedgarb。One,ayoungmanwithruddycheeks,walkedbeneaththecanopyofabroad-brimmedgrayhat;heseemedtohaveinheritedhisgreat-grandsire’ssquare-skirtedcoat,andawaistcoatthatextendeditsimmenseflapstohisknees;hisbrownlocks,also,hungdownbehind,inamodeunknowntoourtimes。Byhissidewasasweetyoungdamsel,herfairfeaturesshelteredbyaprimlittlebonnet,withinwhichappearedthevestalmuslinofacap;
  herclose,long-waistedgown,andindeedherwholeattire,mighthavebeenwornbysomerusticbeautywhohadfadedhalfacenturybefore。Butthattherewassomethingtoowarmandlife-likeinthem,Iwouldherehavecomparedthiscoupletotheghostsoftwoyoungloverswhohaddiedlongsinceintheglowofpassion,andnowwerestrayingoutoftheirgraves,torenewtheoldvows,andshadowforththeunforgottenkissoftheirearthlylips,besidethemoonlitspring。
  "TheeandIwillresthereamoment,Miriam,"saidtheyoungman,astheydrewnearthestonecistern,"forthereisnofearthattheeldersknowwhatwehavedone;andthismaybethelasttimeweshallevertastethiswater。"
  Thusspeaking,withalittlesadnessinhisface,whichwasalsovisibleinthatofhiscompanion,hemadehersitdownonastone,andwasabouttoplacehimselfveryclosetoherside;
  she,however,repelledhim,thoughnotunkindly。
  "Nay,Josiah,"saidshe,givinghimatimidpushwithhermaidenhand,"theemustsitfartheroff,onthatotherstone,withthespringbetweenus。Whatwouldthesisterssay,iftheeweretositsoclosetome?"
  "Butweareoftheworld’speoplenow,Miriam,"answeredJosiah。
  Thegirlpersistedinherprudery,nordidtheyouth,infact,seemaltogetherfreefromasimilarsortofshyness;sotheysatapartfromeachother,gazingupthehill,wherethemoonlightdiscoveredthetopsofagroupofbuildings。Whiletheirattentionwasthusoccupied,apartyoftravellers,whohadcomewearilyupthelongascent,madeahalttorefreshthemselvesatthespring。Therewerethreemen,awoman,andalittlegirlandboy。Theirattirewasmean,coveredwiththedustofthesummer’sday,anddampwiththenight-dew;theyalllookedwoebegone,asifthecaresandsorrowsoftheworldhadmadetheirstepsheavierastheyclimbedthehill;eventhetwolittlechildrenappearedolderinevildaysthantheyoungmanandmaidenwhohadfirstapproachedthespring。
  "Goodeveningtoyou,youngfolks,"wasthesalutationofthetravellers;and"Goodevening,friends,"repliedtheyouthanddamsel。
  "IsthatwhitebuildingtheShakermeeting-house?"askedoneofthestrangers。"AndarethosetheredroofsoftheShakervillage?"
  "Friend,itistheShakervillage,"answeredJosiah,aftersomehesitation。
  Thetravellers,who,fromthefirst,hadlookedsuspiciouslyatthegarboftheseyoungpeople,nowtaxedthemwithanintentionwhichallthecircumstances,indeed,renderedtooobvioustobemistaken。
  "Itistrue,friends,"repliedtheyoungman,summoninguphiscourage。"MiriamandIhaveagifttoloveeachother,andwearegoingamongtheworld’speople,toliveaftertheirfashion。Andyeknowthatwedonottransgressthelawoftheland;andneitherye,northeeldersthemselves,havearighttohinderus。"
  "Yetyouthinkitexpedienttodepartwithoutleave-taking,"
  remarkedoneofthetravellers。
  "Yea,ye-a,"saidJosiah,reluctantly,"becausefatherJobisaveryawfulmantospeakwith;andbeingagedhimself,hehasbutlittlecharityforwhathecallstheiniquitiesoftheflesh。"
  "Well,"saidthestranger,"wewillneitheruseforcetobringyoubacktothevillage,norwillwebetrayyoutotheelders。
  Butsityouhereawhile,andwhenyouhaveheardwhatweshalltellyouoftheworldwhichwehaveleft,andintowhichyouaregoing,perhapsyouwillturnbackwithusofyourownaccord。
  Whatsayyou?"addedhe,turningtohiscompanions。"Wehavetravelledthusfarwithoutbecomingknowntoeachother。Shallwetellourstories,herebythispleasantspring,forourownpastime,andthebenefitofthesemisguidedyounglovers?"
  Inaccordancewiththisproposal,thewholepartystationedthemselvesroundthestonecistern;thetwochildren,beingveryweary,fellasleepuponthedampearth,andtheprettyShakergirl,whosefeelingswerethoseofanunoraTurkishlady,creptascloseaspossibletothefemaletraveller,andasfarasshewellcouldfromtheunknownmen。Thesamepersonwhohadhithertobeenthechiefspokesmannowstoodup,wavinghishatinhishand,andsufferedthemoonlighttofallfulluponhisfront。
  "Inme,"saidhe,withacertainmajestyofutterance,——"inme,youbeholdapoet。"
  Thoughalithographicprintofthisgentlemanisextant,itmaybewelltonoticethathewasnownearlyforty,athinandstoopingfigure,inablackcoat,outatelbows;notwithstandingtheillconditionofhisattire,therewereabouthimseveraltokensofapeculiarsortoffoppery,unworthyofamatureman,particularlyinthearrangementofhishairwhichwassodisposedastogiveallpossibleloftinessandbreadthtohisforehead。
  However,hehadanintelligenteye,and,onthewhole,amarkedcountenance。
  "Apoet!"repeatedtheyoungShaker,alittlepuzzledhowtounderstandsuchadesignation,seldomheardintheutilitariancommunitywherehehadspenthislife。"Oh,ay,Miriam,hemeansavarse-maker,theemustknow。"
  Thisremarkjarreduponthesusceptiblenervesofthepoet;norcouldhehelpwonderingwhatstrangefatalityhadputintothisyoungman’smouthanepithet,whichill-naturedpeoplehadaffirmedtobemorepropertohismeritthantheoneassumedbyhimself。
  "True,Iamaverse-maker,"heresumed,"butmyverseisnomorethanthematerialbodyintowhichIbreathethecelestialsoulofthought。Alas!howmanyapanghasitcostme,thissameinsensibilitytotheetherealessenceofpoetry,withwhichyouhaveheretorturedmeagain,atthemomentwhenIamtorelinquishmyprofessionforever!OFate!whyhastthouwarredwithNature,turningallherhigherandmoreperfectgiftstotheruinofme,theirpossessor?Whatisthevoiceofsong,whentheworldlackstheearoftaste?HowcanIrejoiceinmystrengthanddelicacyoffeeling,whentheyhavebutmadegreatsorrowsoutoflittleones?HaveIdreadedscornlikedeath,andyearnedforfameasotherspantforvitalair,onlytofindmyselfinamiddlestatebetweenobscurityandinfamy?ButIhavemyrevenge!
  Icouldhavegivenexistencetoathousandbrightcreations。I
  crushthemintomyheart,andthereletthemputrefy!Ishakeoffthedustofmyfeetagainstmycountrymen!Butposterity,tracingmyfootstepsupthiswearyhill,willcryshameupontheunworthyagethatdroveoneofthefathersofAmericansongtoendhisdaysinaShakervillage!"
  Duringthisharangue,thespeakergesticulatedwithgreatenergy,and,aspoetryisthenaturallanguageofpassion,thereappearedreasontoapprehendhisfinalexplosionintoanodeextempore。
  Thereadermustunderstandthat,forallthesebitterwords,hewasakind,gentle,harmless,poorfellowenough,whomNature,tossingheringredientstogetherwithoutlookingatherrecipe,hadsentintotheworldwithtoomuchofonesortofbrain,andhardlyanyofanother。
  "Friend,"saidtheyoungShaker,insomeperplexity,"theeseemesttohavemetwithgreattroubles;and,doubtless,Ishouldpitythem,if——ifIcouldbutunderstandwhattheywere。"
  "Happyinyourignorance!"repliedthepoet,withanairofsublimesuperiority。"Toyourcoarsermind,perhaps,ImayseemtospeakofmoreimportantgriefswhenIadd,whatIhadwell-
  nighforgotten,thatIamoutatelbows,andalmoststarvedtodeath。Atanyrate,youhavetheadviceandexampleofoneindividualtowarnyouback;forIamcomehither,adisappointedman,flingingasidethefragmentsofmyhopes,andseekingshelterinthecalmretreatwhichyouaresoanxioustoleave。"
  "Ithankthee,friend,"rejoinedtheyouth,"butIdonotmeantobeapoet,nor,Heavenbepraised!doIthinkMiriamevermadeavarseinherlife。Soweneednotfearthydisappointments。But,Miriam,"headded,withrealconcern,"theeknowestthattheeldersadmitnobodythathasnotagifttobeuseful。Now,whatunderthesuncantheydowiththispoorvarse-maker?"
  "Nay,Josiah,donottheediscouragethepoorman,"saidthegirl,inallsimplicityandkindness。"Ourhymnsareveryrough,andperhapstheymaytrusthimtosmooththem。"
  Withoutnoticingthishintofprofessionalemployment,thepoetturnedaway,andgavehimselfuptoasortofvaguereverie,whichhecalledthought。Sometimeshewatchedthemoon,pouringasilveryliquidontheclouds,throughwhichitslowlymeltedtilltheybecameallbright;thenhesawthesamesweetradiancedancingontheleafytreeswhichrustledasiftoshakeitoff,orsleepingonthehightopsofhills,orhoveringdownindistantvalleys,likethematerialofunshapeddreams;lastly,helookedintothespring,andtherethelightwasminglingwiththewater。Initscrystalbosom,too,beholdingallheavenreflectedthere,hefoundanemblemofapureandtranquilbreast。Helistenedtothatmostetherealofallsounds,thesongofcrickets,cominginfullchoiruponthewind,andfanciedthat,ifmoonlightcouldbeheard,itwouldsoundjustlikethat。
  Finally,hetookadraughtattheShakerspring,and,asifitwerethetrueCastalia,wasforthwithmovedtocomposealyric,aFarewelltohisHarp,whichhesworeshouldbeitsclosingstrain,thelastversethatanungratefulworldshouldhavefromhim。Thiseffusion,withtwoorthreeotherlittlepieces,subsequentlywritten,hetookthefirstopportunitytosend,byoneoftheShakerbrethren,toConcord,wheretheywerepublishedintheNewHampshirePatriot。
  Meantime,anotheroftheCanterburypilgrims,onesodifferentfromthepoetthatthedelicatefancyofthelattercouldhardlyhaveconceivedofhim,begantorelatehissadexperience。Hewasasmallman,ofquickandunquietgestures,aboutfiftyyearsold,withanarrowforehead,allwrinkledanddrawntogether。Heheldinhishandapencil,andacardofsomecommission-merchantinforeignparts,onthebackofwhich,fortherewaslightenoughtoreadorwriteby,heseemedreadytofigureoutacalculation。
  "Youngman,"saidhe,abruptly,"whatquantityoflanddotheShakersownhere,inCanterbury?"
  "ThatismorethanIcantellthee,friend,"answeredJosiah,"butitisaveryrichestablishment,andforalongwaybytheroadsidetheemayguessthelandtobeours,bytheneatnessofthefences。"
  "Andwhatmaybethevalueofthewhole,"continuedthestranger,"withallthebuildingsandimprovements,prettynearly,inroundnumbers?"
  "Oh,amonstroussum,——morethanIcanreckon,"repliedtheyoungShaker。
  "Well,sir,"saidthepilgrim,"therewasaday,andnotverylongago,neither,whenIstoodatmycounting-roomwindow,andwatchedthesignalflagsofthreeofmyownshipsenteringtheharbor,fromtheEastIndies,fromLiverpool,andfromuptheStraits,andIwouldnothavegiventheinvoiceoftheleastofthemforthetitle-deedsofthiswholeShakersettlement。Youstare。Perhaps,now,youwon’tbelievethatIcouldhaveputmorevalueonalittlepieceofpaper,nobiggerthanthepalmofyourhand,thanallthesesolidacresofgrain,grass,andpasture-landwouldsellfor?"
  "Iwon’tdisputeit,friend,"answeredJosiah,"butIknowIhadratherhavefiftyacresofthisgoodlandthanawholesheetofthypaper。"
  "Youmaysaysonow,"saidtheruinedmerchant,bitterly,"formynamewouldnotbeworththepaperIshouldwriteiton。Ofcourse,youmusthaveheardofmyfailure?"
  Andthestrangermentionedhisname,which,howevermightyitmighthavebeeninthecommercialworld,theyoungShakerhadneverheardofamongtheCanterburyhills。
  "Notheardofmyfailure!"exclaimedthemerchant,considerablypiqued。"Why,itwasspokenofon’ChangeinLondon,andfromBostontoNewOrleansmentrembledintheirshoes。Atallevents,Ididfail,andyouseemehereonmyroadtotheShakervillage,where,doubtless(fortheShakersareashrewdsect),theywillhaveaduerespectformyexperience,andgivemethemanagementofthetradingpartoftheconcern,inwhichcaseIthinkIcanpledgemyselftodoubletheircapitalinfourorfiveyears。Turnbackwithme,youngman;forthoughyouwillnevermeetwithmygoodluck,youcanhardlyescapemybad。"
  "Iwillnotturnbackforthis,"repliedJosiah。calmly,"anymorethanfortheadviceofthevarse-maker,betweenwhomandthee,friend,Iseeasortoflikeness,thoughIcan’tjustlysaywhereitlies。ButMiriamandIcanearnourdailybreadamongtheworld’speopleaswellasintheShakervillage。Anddowewantanythingmore,Miriam?"
  "Nothingmore,Josiah,"saidthegirl,quietly。
  "Yea,Miriam,anddailybreadforsomeotherlittlemouths,ifGodsendthem,"observedthesimpleShakerlad。
  Miriamdidnotreply,butlookeddownintothespring,wheresheencounteredtheimageofherownprettyface,blushingwithintheprimlittlebonnet。Thethirdpilgrimnowtookuptheconversation。Hewasasunburntcountryman,oftallframeandbonystrength,onwhoserudeandmanlyfacethereappearedadarker,moresullenandobstinatedespondency,thanonthoseofeitherthepoetorthemerchant。
  "Well,now,youngster,"hebegan,"thesefolkshavehadtheirsay,soI’lltakemyturn。Mystorywillcutbutapoorfigurebythesideoftheirs;forIneversupposedthatIcouldhavearighttomeatanddrink,andgreatpraisebesides,onlyfortaggingrhymestogether,asitseemsthismandoes;norevertriedtogetthesubstanceofhundredsintomyownhands,likethetraderthere。WhenIwasaboutofyouryears,Imarriedmeawife,——justsuchaneatandprettyyoungwomanasMiriam,ifthat’shername,——andallIaskedofProvidencewasanordinaryblessingonthesweatofmybrow,sothatwemightbedecentandcomfortable,andhavedailybreadforourselves,andforsomeotherlittlemouthsthatwesoonhadtofeed。Wehadnoverygreatprospectsbeforeus;butIneverwantedtobeidle;andI
  thoughtitamatterofcoursethattheLordwouldhelpme,becauseIwaswillingtohelpmyself。"
  "Anddidn’tHehelpthee,friend?"demandedJosiah,withsomeeagerness。
  "No,"saidtheyeoman,sullenly;"forthenyouwouldnothaveseenmehere。Ihavelaboredhardforyears;andmymeanshavebeengrowingnarrower,andmylivingpoorer,andmyheartcolderandheavier,allthetime;tillatlastIcouldbearitnolonger。IsetmyselfdowntocalculatewhetherIhadbestgoontheOregonexpedition,orcomeheretotheShakervillage;butI
  hadnothopeenoughleftinmetobegintheworldoveragain;
  and,tomakemystoryshort,hereIam。Andnow,youngster,takemyadvice,andturnback;orelse,somefewyearshence,you’llhavetoclimbthishill,withasheavyaheartasmine。"
  Thissimplestoryhadastrongeffectontheyoungfugitives。Themisfortunesofthepoetandmerchanthadwonlittlesympathyfromtheirplaingoodsenseandunworldlyfeelings,qualitieswhichmadethemsuchunprejudicedandinflexiblejudges,thatfewmenwouldhavechosentotaketheopinionofthisyouthandmaidenastothewisdomorfollyoftheirpursuits。Butherewasonewhosesimplewisheshadresembledtheirown,andwho,aftereffortswhichalmostgavehimarighttoclaimsuccessfromfate,hadfailedinaccomplishingthem。
  "Butthywife,friend?"exclaimedtheyoungerman。"Whatbecameoftheprettygirl,likeMiriam?Oh,Iamafraidsheisdead!"
  "Yea,poorman,shemustbedead,——sheandthechildren,too,"
  sobbedMiriam。
  Thefemalepilgrimhadbeenleaningoverthespring,whereinlatterlyatearortwomighthavebeenseentofall,andformitslittlecircleonthesurfaceofthewater。Shenowlookedup,disclosingfeaturesstillcomely,butwhichhadacquiredanexpressionoffretfulness,inthesamelongcourseofevilfortunethathadthrownasullengloomoverthetemperoftheunprosperousyeoman。
  "Iamhiswife,"saidshe,ashadeofirritabilityjustperceptibleinthesadnessofhertone。"Thesepoorlittlethings,asleepontheground,aretwoofourchildren。Wehadtwomore,butGodhasprovidedbetterforthemthanwecould,bytakingthemtoHimself。"
  "AndwhatwouldtheeadviseJosiahandmetodo?"askedMiriam,thisbeingthefirstquestionwhichshehadputtoeitherofthestrangers。
  "’Tisathingalmostagainstnatureforawomantotrytoparttruelovers,"answeredtheyeoman’swife,afterapause;"butI’llspeakastrulytoyouasiftheseweremydyingwords。
  Thoughmyhusbandtoldyousomeofourtroubles,hedidn’tmentionthegreatest,andthatwhichmakesalltherestsohardtobear。Ifyouandyoursweetheartmarry,you’llbekindandpleasanttoeachotherforayearortwo,andwhilethat’sthecase,youneverwillrepent;but,byandby,he’llgrowgloomy,rough,andhardtoplease,andyou’llbepeevish,andfulloflittleangryfits,andapttobecomplainingbythefireside,whenhecomestoresthimselffromhistroublesoutofdoors;soyourlovewillwearawaybylittleandlittle,andleaveyoumiserableatlast。Ithasbeensowithus;andyetmyhusbandandIweretrueloversonce,ifevertwoyoungfolkswere。"
  Assheceased,theyeomanandhiswifeexchangedaglance,inwhichtherewasmoreandwarmeraffectionthantheyhadsupposedtohaveescapedthefrostofawintryfate,ineitheroftheirbreasts。Atthatmoment,whentheystoodontheutmostvergeofmarriedlife,onewordfitlyspoken,orperhapsonepeculiarlook,hadtheyhadmutualconfidenceenoughtoreciprocateit,mighthaverenewedalltheiroldfeelings,andsentthemback,resolvedtosustaineachotheramidthestrugglesoftheworld。
  Butthecrisispassedandnevercameagain。Justthen,also,thechildren,rousedbytheirmother’svoice,lookedup,andaddedtheirwailingaccentstothetestimonybornebyalltheCanterburypilgrimsagainsttheworldfromwhichtheyfled。
  "Wearetiredandhungry!"criedthey。"IsitfartotheShakervillage?"
  TheShakeryouthandmaidenlookedmournfullyintoeachother’seyes。Theyhadbutsteppedacrossthethresholdoftheirhomes,whenlo!thedarkarrayofcaresandsorrowsthatroseuptowarnthemback。Thevariednarrativesofthestrangershadarrangedthemselvesintoaparable;theyseemednotmerelyinstancesofwofulfatethathadbefallenothers,butshadowyomensofdisappointedhopeandunavailingtoil,domesticgriefandestrangedaffection,thatwouldcloudtheonwardpathofthesepoorfugitives。Butafteroneinstant’shesitation,theyopenedtheirarms,andsealedtheirresolvewithaspureandfondanembraceaseveryouthfullovehadhallowed。
  "Wewillnotgoback,"saidthey。"Theworldnevercanbedarktous,forwewillalwaysloveoneanother。"
  ThentheCanterburypilgrimswentupthehill,whilethepoetchantedadrearanddesperatestanzaoftheFarewelltohisHarp,fittingmusicforthatmelancholyband。Theysoughtahomewhereallformertiesofnatureorsocietywouldbesundered,andallolddistinctionslevelled,andacoldandpassionlesssecuritybesubstitutedformortalhopeandfear,asinthatotherrefugeoftheworld’swearyoutcasts,thegrave。TheloversdrankattheShakerspring,andthen,withchastenedhopes,butmoreconfidingaffections,wentontomingleinanuntriedlife。
  THEDEVILINMANUSCRIPT
  OnabittereveningofDecember,Iarrivedbymailinalargetown,whichwasthentheresidenceofanintimatefriend,oneofthosegiftedyouthswhocultivatepoetryandthebelles-lettres,andcallthemselvesstudentsatlaw。Myfirstbusiness,aftersupper,wastovisithimattheofficeofhisdistinguishedinstructor。AsIhavesaid,itwasabitternight,clearstarlight,butcoldasNovaZembla,——theshop-windowsalongthestreetbeingfrosted,soasalmosttohidethelights,whilethewheelsofcoachesthunderedequallyloudoverfrozenearthandpavementsofstone。Therewasnosnow,eitheronthegroundortheroofsofthehouses。Thewindblewsoviolently,thatIhadbuttospreadmycloaklikeamain-sail,andscudalongthestreetattherateoftenknots,greatlyenviedbyothernavigators,whowerebeatingslowlyup,withthegalerightintheirteeth。OneoftheseIcapsized,butwasgoneonthewingsofthewindbeforehecouldevenvociferateanoath。
  Afterthispictureofaninclementnight,beholdusseatedbyagreatblazingfire,whichlookedsocomfortableanddeliciousthatIfeltinclinedtoliedownandrollamongthehotcoals。
  Theusualfurnitureofalawyer’sofficewasaroundus,——rowsofvolumesinsheepskin,andamultitudeofwrits,summonses,andotherlegalpapers,scatteredoverthedesksandtables。Buttherewerecertainobjectswhichseemedtointimatethatwehadlittledreadoftheintrusionofclients,orofthelearnedcounsellorhimself,who,indeed,wasattendingcourtinadistanttown。Atall,decanter-shapedbottlestoodonthetable,betweentwotumblers,andbesideapileofblottedmanuscripts,altogetherdissimilartoanylawdocumentsrecognizedinourcourts。Myfriend,whomIshallcallOberon,——itwasanameoffancyandfriendshipbetweenhimandme,——myfriendOberonlookedatthesepaperswithapeculiarexpressionofdisquietude。
  "Idobelieve,"saidhe,soberly,"or,atleast,Icouldbelieve,ifIchose,thatthereisadevilinthispileofblottedpapers。
  Youhavereadthem,andknowwhatImean,——thatconceptioninwhichIendeavoredtoembodythecharacterofafiend,asrepresentedinourtraditionsandthewrittenrecordsofwitchcraft。Oh,Ihaveahorrorofwhatwascreatedinmyownbrain,andshudderatthemanuscriptsinwhichIgavethatdarkideaasortofmaterialexistence!Wouldtheywereoutofmysight!"
  "Andofmine,too,"thoughtI。
  "Youremember,"continuedOberon,"howthehellishthingusedtosuckawaythehappinessofthosewho,byasimpleconcessionthatseemedalmostinnocent,subjectedthemselvestohispower。Justsomypeaceisgone,andallbytheseaccursedmanuscripts。Haveyoufeltnothingofthesameinfluence?"
  "Nothing,"repliedI,"unlessthespellbehidinadesiretoturnnovelist,afterreadingyourdelightfultales。"
  "Novelist!"exclaimedOberon,halfseriously。"Then,indeed,mydevilhashisclawonyou!Youaregone!Youcannotevenprayfordeliverance!Butwewillbethelastandonlyvictims;forthisnightImeantoburnthemanuscripts,andcommitthefiendtohisretributionintheflames。"
  "Burnyourtales!"repeatedI,startledatthedesperationoftheidea。
  "Evenso,"saidtheauthor,despondingly。"Youcannotconceivewhataneffectthecompositionofthesetaleshashadonme。I
  havebecomeambitiousofabubble,andcarelessofsolidreputation。Iamsurroundingmyselfwithshadows,whichbewilderme,byapingtherealitiesoflife。Theyhavedrawnmeasidefromthebeatenpathoftheworld,andledmeintoastrangesortofsolitude,——asolitudeinthemidstofmen,-wherenobodywishesforwhatIdo,northinksnorfeelsasIdo。Thetaleshavedoneallthis。Whentheyareashes,perhapsIshallbeasIwasbeforetheyhadexistence。Moreover,thesacrificeislessthanyoumaysuppose,sincenobodywillpublishthem。"
  "Thatdoesmakeadifference,indeed,"saidI。
  "Theyhavebeenoffered,byletter,"continuedOberon,reddeningwithvexation,"tosomeseventeenbooksellers。Itwouldmakeyoustaretoreadtheiranswers;andreadthemyoushould,onlythatIburntthemasfastastheyarrived。Onemanpublishesnothingbutschool-books;anotherhasfivenovelsalreadyunderexamination。"
  "WhatavoluminousmasstheunpublishedliteratureofAmericamustbe!"criedI。
  "Oh,theAlexandrianmanuscriptswerenothingtoit!"saidmyfriend。"Well,anothergentlemanisjustgivingupbusiness,onpurpose,Iverilybelieve,toescapepublishingmybook。Several,however,wouldnotabsolutelydeclinetheagency,onmyadvancinghalfthecostofanedition,andgivingbondsfortheremainder,besidesahighpercentagetothemselves,whetherthebooksellsornot。Anotheradvisesasubscription。"
  "Thevillain!"exclaimedI。
  "Afact!"saidOberon。"Inshort,ofalltheseventeenbooksellers,onlyonehasvouchsafedeventoreadmytales;andhe——aliterarydabblerhimself,Ishouldjudge——hastheimpertinencetocriticisethem,proposingwhathecallsvastimprovements,andconcluding,afterageneralsentenceofcondemnation,withthedefinitiveassurancethathewillnotbeconcernedonanyterms。"
  "Itmightnotbeamisstopullthatfellow’snose,"remarkedI。
  "Ifthewhole’trade’hadonecommonnose,therewouldbesomesatisfactioninpullingit,"answeredtheauthor。"But,theredoesseemtobeonehonestmanamongtheseseventeenunrighteousones;andhetellsmefairly,thatnoAmericanpublisherwillmeddlewithanAmericanwork,——seldomifbyaknownwriter,andneverifbyanewone,——unlessatthewriter’srisk。"
  "Thepaltryrogues!"criedI。"Willtheylivebyliterature,andyetrisknothingforitssake?But,afterall,youmightpublishonyourownaccount。"
  "AndsoImight,"repliedOberon。"Butthedevilofthebusinessisthis。Thesepeoplehaveputmesooutofconceitwiththetales,thatIloathetheverythoughtofthem,andactuallyexperienceaphysicalsicknessofthestomach,wheneverIglanceatthemonthetable。Itellyouthereisademoninthem!I
  anticipateawildenjoymentinseeingthemintheblaze;suchasIshouldfeelintakingvengeanceonanenemy,ordestroyingsomethingnoxious。"
  Ididnotverystrenuouslyopposethisdetermination,beingprivatelyofopinion,inspiteofmypartialityfortheauthor,thathistaleswouldmakeamorebrilliantappearanceinthefirethananywhereelse。Beforeproceedingtoexecution,webroachedthebottleofchampagne,whichOberonhadprovidedforkeepinguphisspiritsinthisdolefulbusiness。Weswallowedeachatumblerful,insparklingcommotion;itwentbubblingdownourthroats,andbrightenedmyeyesatonce,butleftmyfriendsadandheavyasbefore。Hedrewthetalestowardshim,withamixtureofnaturalaffectionandnaturaldisgust,likeafathertakingadeformedinfantintohisarms。
  "Pooh!Pish!Pshaw!"exclaimedhe,holdingthematarm’s-length。
  "ItwasGray’sideaofheaven,toloungeonasofaandreadnewnovels。Now,whatmoreappropriatetorturewouldDantehimselfhavecontrived,forthesinnerwhoperpetratesabadbook,thantobecontinuallyturningoverthemanuscript?"
  "Itwouldfailofeffect,"saidI,"becauseabadauthorisalwayshisowngreatadmirer。"
  "Ilackthatonecharacteristicofmytribe,——theonlydesirableone,"observedOberon。"Buthowmanyrecollectionsthronguponme,asIturnovertheseleaves!ThisscenecameintomyfancyasIwalkedalongahillyroad,onastarlightOctoberevening;inthepureandbracingair,Ibecameallsoul,andfeltasifI
  couldclimbthesky,andrunaracealongtheMilkyWay。Hereisanothertale,inwhichIwraptmyselfduringadarkanddrearynight-rideinthemonthofMarch,tilltherattlingofthewheelsandthevoicesofmycompanionsseemedlikefaintsoundsofadream,andmyvisionsabrightreality。ThatscribbledpagedescribesshadowswhichIsummonedtomybedsideatmidnight:
  theywouldnotdepartwhenIbadethem;thegraydawncame,andfoundmewideawakeandfeverish,thevictimofmyownenchantments!"
  "Theremusthavebeenasortofhappinessinallthis,"saidI,smittenwithastrangelongingtomakeproofofit。
  "Theremaybehappinessinafeverfit,"repliedtheauthor。"AndthenthevariousmoodsinwhichIwrote!Sometimesmyideaswerelikepreciousstonesundertheearth,requiringtoiltodigthemup,andcaretopolishandbrightenthem;butoftenadeliciousstreamofthoughtwouldgushoutuponthepageatonce,likewatersparklingupsuddenlyinthedesert;andwhenithadpassed,Ignawedmypenhopelessly,orblunderedonwithcoldandmiserabletoil,asiftherewereawalloficebetweenmeandmysubject。"
  "Doyounowperceiveacorrespondingdifference,"inquiredI,"betweenthepassageswhichyouwrotesocoldly,andthosefervidflashesofthemind?"
  "No,"saidOberon,tossingthemanuscriptsonthetable。"IfindnotracesofthegoldenpenwithwhichIwroteincharactersoffire。Mytreasureoffairycoinischangedtoworthlessdross。Mypicture,paintedinwhatseemedtheloveliesthues,presentsnothingbutafadedandindistinguishablesurface。Ihavebeeneloquentandpoeticalandhumorousinadream,——andbehold!itisallnonsense,nowthatIamawake。"
  Myfriendnowthrewsticksofwoodanddrychipsuponthefire,andseeingitblazelikeNebuchadnezzar’sfurnace,seizedthechampagnebottle,anddranktwoorthreebrimmingbumpers,successively。Theheadyliquorcombinedwithhisagitationtothrowhimintoaspeciesofrage。Helaidviolenthandsonthetales。Inoneinstantmore,theirfaultsandbeautieswouldalikehavevanishedinaglowingpurgatory。But,allatonce,I
  rememberedpassagesofhighimagination,deeppathos,originalthoughts,andpointsofsuchvariedexcellence,thatthevastnessofthesacrificestruckmemostforcibly。Icaughthisarm。
  "Surely,youdonotmeantoburnthem!"Iexclaimed。
  "Letmealone!"criedOberon,hiseyesflashingfire。"Iwillburnthem!Notascorchedsyllableshallescape!Wouldyouhavemeadamnedauthor?——Toundergosneers,taunts,abuse,andcoldneglect,andfaintpraise,bestowed,forpity’ssake,againstthegiver’sconscience!Ahissingandalaughing-stocktomyowntraitorousthoughts!Anoutlawfromtheprotectionofthegrave,——onewhoseasheseverycarelessfootmightspurn,unhonoredinlife,andrememberedscornfullyindeath!AmItobearallthis,whenyonderfirewillinsuremefromthewhole?
  No!Theregothetales!Maymyhandwitherwhenitwouldwriteanother!"
  Thedeedwasdone。Hehadthrownthemanuscriptsintothehottestofthefire,whichatfirstseemedtoshrinkaway,butsooncurledaroundthem,andmadethemapartofitsownferventbrightness。Oberonstoodgazingattheconflagration,andshortlybegantosoliloquize,inthewildeststrain,asifFancyresistedandbecameriotous,atthemomentwhenhewouldhavecompelledhertoascendthatfuneralpile。Hiswordsdescribedobjectswhichheappearedtodiscerninthefire,fedbyhisownpreciousthoughts;perhapsthethousandvisionswhichthewriter’smagichadincorporatedwiththesepagesbecamevisibletohiminthedissolvingheat,brighteningfortheretheyvanishedforever;
  whilethesmoke,thevividsheetsofflame,theruddyandwhiteningcoals,caughttheaspectofavariedscenery。
  "Theyblaze,"saidhe,"asifIhadsteepedthemintheintensestspiritofgenius。ThereIseemyloversclaspedineachother’sarms。Howpuretheflamethatburstsfromtheirglowinghearts!
  Andyonderthefeaturesofavillainwrithinginthefirethatshalltormenthimtoeternity。Myholymen,mypiousandangelicwomen,standlikemartyrsamidtheflames,theirmildeyesliftedheavenward。Ringoutthebells!Acityisonfire。
  See!——destructionroarsthroughmydarkforests,whilethelakesboilupinsteamingbillows,andthemountainsarevolcanoes,andtheskykindleswithaluridbrightness!Allelementsarebutonepervadingflame!Ha!Thefiend!"
  Iwassomewhatstartledbythislatterexclamation。Thetaleswerealmostconsumed,butjustthenthrewforthabroadsheetoffire,whichflickeredaswithlaughter,makingthewholeroomdanceinitsbrightness,andthenroaredportentouslyupthechimney。
  "Yousawhim?Youmusthaveseenhim!"criedOberon。"Howheglaredatmeandlaughed,inthatlastsheetofflame,withjustthefeaturesthatIimaginedforhim!Well!Thetalesaregone。"
  Thepaperswereindeedreducedtoaheapofblackcinders,withamultitudeofsparkshurryingconfusedlyamongthem,thetracesofthepenbeingnowrepresentedbywhitelines,andthewholemassflutteringtoandfrointhedraughtsofair。Thedestroyerkneltdowntolookatthem。
  "Whatismorepotentthanfire!"saidhe,inhisgloomiesttone。
  "Eventhought,invisibleandincorporealasitis,cannotescapeit。Inthislittletime,ithasannihilatedthecreationsoflongnightsanddays,whichIcouldnomorereproduce,intheirfirstglowandfreshness,thancauseashesandwhitenedbonestoriseupandlive。There,too,Isacrificedtheunbornchildrenofmymind。AllthatIhadaccomplished——allthatIplannedforfutureyears——hasperishedbyonecommonruin,andleftonlythisheapofembers!Thedeedhasbeenmyfate。Andwhatremains?Awearyandaimlesslife,——alongrepentanceofthishour,——andatlastanobscuregrave,wheretheywillburyandforgetme!"
  Astheauthorconcludedhisdolorousmoan,theextinguishedembersaroseandsettleddownandaroseagain,andfinallyflewupthechimney,likeademonwithsablewings。Justastheydisappeared,therewasaloudandsolitarycryinthestreetbelowus。"Fire!"Fire!Othervoicescaughtupthatterribleword,anditspeedilybecametheshoutofamultitude。Oberonstartedtohisfeet,infreshexcitement。
  "Afireonsuchanight!"criedhe。"Thewindblowsagale,andwhereveritwhirlstheflames,theroofswillflashuplikegunpowder。Everypumpisfrozenup,andboilingwaterwouldturntoicethemomentitwasflungfromtheengine。Inanhour,thiswoodentownwillbeonegreatbonfire!Whataglorioussceneformynext——Pshaw!"
  Thestreetwasnowallalivewithfootsteps,andtheairfullofvoices。Weheardoneenginethunderingroundacorner,andanotherrattlingfromadistanceoverthepavements。Thebellsofthreesteeplesclangedoutatonce,spreadingthealarmtomanyaneighboringtown,andexpressinghurry,confusion,andterror,soinimitablythatIcouldalmostdistinguishintheirpealtheburdenoftheuniversalcry,——"Fire!Fire!Fire!"
  "Whatissoeloquentastheirirontongues!"exclaimedOberon。
  "Myheartleapsandtrembles,butnotwithfear。Andthatothersound,too,-deepandawfulasamightyorgan,——theroarandthunderofthemultitudeonthepavementbelow!Come!Wearelosingtime。Iwillcryoutintheloudestoftheuproar,andminglemyspiritwiththewildestoftheconfusion,andbeabubbleonthetopoftheferment!"
  Fromthefirstoutcry,myforebodingshadwarnedmeofthetrueobjectandcentreofalarm。Therewasnothingnowbutuproar,above,beneath,andaroundus;footstepsstumblingpell-mellupthepublicstaircase,eagershoutsandheavythumpsatthedoor,thewhizanddashofwaterfromtheengines,andthecrashoffurniturethrownuponthepavement。Atonce,thetruthflasheduponmyfriend。Hisfrenzytookthehueofjoy,and,withawildgestureofexultation,heleapedalmosttotheceilingofthechamber。