^ E - l = ^ g - g | | | | | | | | Z All;Z ~ -''I —.f.t r X = z,' ix g -' W.,,7,' _ z,z, Mu i 7T 7 j,,,i,,,. j. i ur /, i, L 1' i / t.! U.,..'_ /:.,'.,'.: _' _ I':.. _',. t//4>/>dgt/{h/X //g THE At A5G C STAFF; AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ANDREW JACKSON DAVIS. "' Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou x't with me; thy rod and TaH STAFF, they comfort mg." —fEBREW POET. NI/TTI EI)lTION;. BOSTON: WILLIAM WHITE & COMfPANY, BANNER'OF LIGHT OFFICE, 158 WASHINGTON STREET. NEW YORK AGENTS-AMERICAN NEWS COMPANY. 1871. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857. BY ANDREW JACKSON DAVIS, in tlil Clerk's Otfice of the District Court of the United States, in and for the Sctuthern District of New Yjrft. PUBLISHERS' PREFACE. N MOST singular biography of a most singular person is here presented to the world. We regard it as the first rational and readable history of a Clairvoyant's experience that has appeared in the language; and, irrespective of its doctrines or philosophies, we look upon it as a valuable accession to biographical literature. This book differs intrinsically, in style, method, and substance, from any of Mr. Davis' previous works, which are extensively read and justly held in high estimation on both sides of the Atlantic. Indeed, no other American psychologist has obtained a more wide-spread fame, or given occasion for such extreme differences of opinion. There are, perhaps, thousands who regard Mr. Davis as a person of almost supernatural abilities, while a greater number treat him and his writings with unmitigated prejudice. HIence such a work as we now offer to the public is particularly needed to institute a mean between these two mental extremes. The brief and frag'mentary biographical sketches of the man, which have from time 4 PREFACE. to time appeared, have neither supplied the demands and wishes of believers, nor met the objections and allegations of the unfriendly. Nothing, therefore, but a systenmatic autobiography - beginning with his first memories and ascending step by step throughl every subsequent year to the present period-could supply a desideiratum so generally felt and expressed. This demand the present volume is intended to meet, gi'ring, as it does, the public and private career of Mr. Davis, and we respectfully offer it as an unprecedented record, entirely authentic and beyond refutation. lM{any wonderful events, connected with his psychological development, are published for the first time in this work; and the secret of his extraordinary gift is explained and established in a new and most satisfactory manner. We offer it, also, with the belief that its pages are fraught with pure sentiments, which may be advantageously read by parents and children, teachers and pupils, reformers and philosophers. Indeed, with all due deference to the views of able critics and scholars, (whose judgments upon this work are yet to be pronounced,) we'are free to express our opinion that every class of readers will rise from its perusal, not merely delighted with the simple pathos and dramatic romance which pervade every page, but with clearer views and nobler purposes. NEW Yo)R,?Iay, 1857. CONTENTS. INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS. BfI rIt AUTHOR'S COMPANION.......................... PAGE 9 CHAPTER I. TimE USE OF AUTOBnOGRAH.. 19 CHAPTER II. TImE LOCAL H ABITATION....................................... 24 CHAPTER III. TILE NAiE.28 CHAPTER IV. THE VENDUE AND DEPARTURE.................................. 34 CHAPTER V. My FIRST MEMEIORIES 41 CHAPTER VI. MI FIRST TEMPTATION....................................... 46 CHAPTER VII. A CIIANGE OF SCENE........................................... 51 CHAPTER VIII. THE DUTCHMAN'S GHOST.................................. 54 CHAPTER IX. IN WVHICH I BIAKE 31ORE DISCOVERIES............................ 60 CHAPTER X. OTIHER SCENES IN THIS DRAMAi............................... 66 CHAP TER XI. SUNSIIINE AND CLOUDS.......................... 72 6 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XII. IN WHICH I ASK BIANY QUESTIONS.......................... PAGE 76 CHAPTER XIII. IN IIICIIH I GO BABY-HUNTING.................................. 82 CHAPTER XIV. THE CURTAIN RISES AGAIN...................................... 87 CHAPTE R XV. IN WHIIICII ARE SIGNS OF SECOND-SIGHT....................... 91 CHAPTER XVI. MY TEMIPTATION TO BE PROFANE...................... 96 CHAPTER XVII. MY MOTHIER'S DREAMrx........................................... 103 CHAPTER XVIII. SIGNS, AND THE THINGS SIGNIFIED.............................. 109 CHAPTER XIX. A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS...................................... 112 CHAPTER XX. TIHE GAMBLER'S FIERY FATE................................... 118 CHAPTER XXI. IN WHICII I GO TO SCHOOL..................................... 123 C HAPTE R XXII. MY FATHER AND ALCOHOL PART COMPANY....................... 129 CHAPTER XXIII. INITIAL EXPERIENCES IN HYDE-PARK........................... 135 CHAPTER XXIV. A CURIOUS CASE OF WITCHCRAFT............................... 143 CHAPTER XXV. OTHER EPISODES IN THIS HISTORY........................... 153 CHAPTER XXVI. IN WHICH I HEAR STRANGE MUSIC............................ 164 CHAPTER XXVII. MY L~NCASTERIAN EDUCATION................................. 171 C ITAPTER XXVIII THE UPS AND DOWNS OF LIFE................................... 174 CHAPTER XXIX. A LESSON OF SELF-DEPENDENCE............................. 185 CONTENTS. 7 CHAPTER XXX. MY LIFE WITH IRA ARMSTRONG.......................... PAGE.13 CHAPTER XXXI. THE DAWNING LIGHT............................................ 196 CHAPTER XXXII. IN' WHVIICH I YIELD TO THE MYSTIC POWER.................. 204 CHAPTER XXXIII. MY FIRST FLIGHT THROUGH SPACE.............................. 218 CHAPTER XXXIV. TIIE SUMMIIT OF THE FIRST MOUNTAIN....................... 225 CHAPTER XXXV. AN ENTIRE CHANGE OF PROGRAMME........................... 246 CHAPTER XXXVI. MY JOURNEY TOWARD THE VALLEY.............................. 260 C HAPTER XXXVII. SPECIAL PROVIDENCES......................2.0.......... 270 CHAPTER XXX VIII. A STRUGGLE FOR THE SECOND EIMINENCE........................ 285 CHAPTER XXXIX. THE MOUNTAIN OF JUSTICE.................................... 294 CHAPTER XL. THE PRINCIPLES OF NATURE................................. 303 CHAPTER XLI. THE SORROWS OF NEW YORE...................... 313 CHAPTER XLII. SEVERAL NEW STARS........................ *................ 320 CHAPTER XLIII. THE SPIRITUAL SPHERES..................................332 CHAPTER XLIV. TVENTS 01F THE VALLEY......................................... 344 CHAPTER XLV. ~MISSIONARIES IN THE FIELD.........3.................. 355 CHAPTER XLVI. VISION OF PERPETUAL PEACE............................. 368 CHAPTER XLVII. THE FURwNISHED RooM..................... 384 8 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XLVIII. NIGHT AND MORNING...................................... PAGE 393 CHAPTER XLIX. FACTS AND F.ANCIES... 404 CHAPTER L. IHE FRATERNAL MARRIAGE..................................... 414 CHAPTER LI. THE RECONCILIATION........................................... 420 CHAPTER LI I. THE FATAL GEMI............................................... 428 CHAPTE R LIII. READINGS AND TEACHINGS...................................... 435 CHAPTER LIV. iN TIIE OPEN FIELD....................................4..... 4,18 CHAPTER LV. LIFE IN THE COTTAGE........................................... 460 CtIAPTER LVI. THE DOUBLE SUICIDE....................................... 468 CHAPTER LVII. THE THEOLOGICAL ECLIPSE.................................... 479 CHAPTER LVIII. THE INFINITE CONJUGATION................................ 491 C HAP T ER LIX. CAUSE AND EFFECT................................ 500 CHAP-TER LX. GOLDEN TOKENS........... o -..I.............. o........ 516 CHAPTER LXI. SINGULAR VISITATIONS................................... 533 CHAPTER LXII. TiE CONJUGAL MARRIAGE.................................... 545 INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS. BY THE AUTHOR'S COMPANION. IN commencing ani Introductory Section to this AUTOBIOGRAPMIY, it occurs to me that several inquiries, relative to the object sought, will arise in the minds of many who may peruse the present volume. Some of these inquiries I will briefly state, in order to assist the reader, by my succeeding responses, into the pleasurable path of satisfactory biographical research:1. TVhy should this Autobiography be indited, instead of such philosophical matter as has hitherto claimed the Author's attention? It is in the attractive garb of narration that many most important truths have been promulgated throughout society. But we have no need of precedent. The Author of this work has been induced to place it before the world by the conscientious conviction that in no way could the psychological principles which it embodies be so effectually impressed on the thoughtful spirit, as in connection with and illustrated by the incidents of a life. The philosophical volumes, already among the things that are, give detached fragments of Mr. DAVIS's extraordinary experience; but still, the skeptical "How?" comes ever up from the restless soul of the invincible logician. As an instance of this, I will refer 1* 10 INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS. to a communication from James Barnaby, of Ohio, to one of the Boston papers, in which he says of A. J. DAVIS:"None BUT HIMSELF can ever know that he has n6t learned,from books, or other known sources, the scientific facts and technical terms found in his writings, as any one of good intellect could learn all this without the knowledge of others. "Here, then, is the evil. To admit these extraordinary claims is to admit Mr. Davis to be in possession of means of obtaining knowledge of the laws of Nature and of man vastly superior to those of others. The evil effects of such admissions are so numerous and apparent as not to need pointing out. Mental and spiritual tyranny have always sustained themselves by similar pretensions. The particular lack of discrimination to which I referred in the beginning of this article is shown in the fact that'The Liberator,' and other reformatory journals, have not pointed out more clearly these dangers, and discouraged the course of things that has tended to produce them. " It will be said, however, that if these claims in behalf of the superior powers of 3iMr. Davis are true, we need not fear any evil consequences as a result of receiving them as such. But are they true? Some of them, you seem to think, are established beyond dispute. Of course, I shall not attempt to prove by testimony that Mr. Davis does not possess this faculty of' interior sight,' or the other wonderful faculties attributed to him. Neither can I admit these claims. The things to be established are opposed to the consciousness, reason, judgment, and experience, of myself and of mankind generally: hence, the testimony which sustains them must be stronger than their own inherent impossibility; and, to my mind, no testimony has been or can be adduced that is not, at least, as liable to be false as the claims are to be true." The above extract is but a fair specimen of the abounding skepticism which obtains among various classes, relative to the life and writings of MIr. Davis, and the grand subjective laws which underlie his development. HIence, the demand seems imperative INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS. 11 that, for the advantage and advancement of both physics and meta. physics, this work should be sent forth on the current of the world's literature. 2. J/ihy does Mi'. Davis write his ownz history —and that, too, while so young? " We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. lie most lives Who thinks most -feels the noblest - acts the best." In this light, the life of Mr. Davis has been long. During a half-score of years, he vibrated from one extreme in external life to the utmost verge of the other; while, interiorly, he swept through a vast, rich field of doubt-dispelling investigation. By this process he has been educated. Since his powers were awakened by the aid of human magnetism, he has been to a School of which Nature is the teacher; and, with "attentive and believing faculties," has toiled for the priceless dower of Wisdom. In every sense he has been a tireless student, differing from the ordinary methods only by going directly to the essence of things; thus gleaning from the very heart of the Universe, so to speak, that. knowledge which others get, at second-hand, from books. Hence, his education is now just as available, at all hours, as that of any other well-trained intellect; and it is only when some new and intricate subject presents itself for investigation, that he needs to abstract his mind and enter the still more illuminated " Superior State." It is plain to be seen, then, that his present ordinary state, in which he writes this Autobiography, is vastly " superior" to that former dependent condition in which he dictated~ "Nature's Divine Revelations." That Mr. Davis should write his own history seems advisable fiom the circumstances of the case. His experience belongs to the world, inasmuch as it reveals many subtile and most important phases in the constitution of mind; and also points to a time when soul will be less under the sway of sense, and less dependent on external appliances for expansion and progression. At the same 12 INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS. time, he alone can relate accurately the events of his own life, and give a faithful, transcript of what would otherwise be for ever obscured by misapprehension and consequent misrepresentation. Besides, many a contemporary actor in this life-drama can now be appealed to, as a living presence, for evidence concerning these simple and straightforward memoranda. Nor will such an appeal be deemed at all difficult, when it is known that the whole primary psychological development of "The Poughkeepsie Seer" took place within ninety miles of the city of New York! Indeed, many testimonials, from those well acquainted with his early history, might be added to those already published;* but I will select only the following, which was addressed to me by a wellknown citizen:DEAR M3ADAMr: This brief notice of my friend, your honored husband, is most respectfully dedicated to your kind care and keeping, as a testimonial of regard for merited worth. In 1843, Professor Grimes, a lecturer on Phrenology and'-Mesmerism, came to Poughkeepsie, New York, and raised considerable interest among the people upon those subjects. His lectures and experiments were. largely attended by all classes, and almost everybody began to mesmerize each other. Among others, Mr. XWilliam Levingston, a tailor, succeeded pretty well as a manipulator, and many submitted to his experiments. A. J. Davis was then a youth of about sixteen years, living next door to where I was employed, with Ira Armstrong, as an apprentice to the shoemaking business. Said Davis, with other boys, called on Mr. Levingston to be magnetized, as it was then termed. He proved susceptible to its influence, was put at once into the clairvoyant state, and began to see through his forehead, without the use of his natural eyes; which phenomenon caused much surprise to all who saw or heard of it, and many were anxious to learn about the stranlge manifestation. I became much interested in the subject, and sought for all the information possible for me to get. I talked with Samuel Davis, Levingston, Armstrong, &c., and learned what they were able to give concern* See Introduction to "Nature's Divine Revelations," INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS. 13 ing the origin, disposition, education, and character, of Jackson. I became satisfied that he was poor in purse, honest, amiable, and honorable. HIis education at that time consisted of reading, writing, and ciphering, and only rudimental in these. I found, by conversing with him, that he had read but very little, and did not possess any general information. He was a light-leamrted, well-disposed youth. In answer as to what books he had. read, he said, "I have only read a book called'The Three Spaniards,"' which I suppose was a romantic tale, as I have not seen it. I was fully satisfied that his schooling had been very limited. He had no time, then, nor for many years after, to apply himself to books, and, from all that I can learn, has not done so to this day. His knowledge, now displayed, has been mainly gained in the clairvoyant state. HIis newly-developed powers took a medical turn; and, after a l'ew weeks of experimenting, to satisfy the curiosity of himself and his friends, he commenced practising as a clairvoyant physician, Levingston being his magnetizer. Armstrong gave him up to follow his new calling. I-le continued in and about Pouglhkeepsie for a year or two, taking a tour out occasionally, and again returning to see his old patients and friends. His descriptions of various ailments, both mental and physical, as well as his prescriptions for cure, were truly wonderful and astonishing to all who knew him. Educated doctors would admit that his anatomical descriptions were correct, and that his remedies were curious and philosophical, displaying a knowledge of things of which he knew nothinog when in his normal condition. At that time he had no power to remember what transpired in his clairvoyant state, while in his natural condition; but he has since attained that power, as well as that of self-magnetization. He does not therefore now need a manipulator. His experiences are still quite as astonishing to himself as to others, as he informed me not long since. While living in Poughkeepsie with 1NMr. Levingston, and continning to follow the healing art, Jackson received an impression, in his interior state, that he would be the instrument of communicating a work to the world- " Nature's Divine Revelations"which work was dictated in word and sentiment, and written down from his lips, by William Fishbough. This volume contained philosophy and sentiments not in the mind of Fishbough, as he 14 INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS. himself informed me, but contrary to his cherished views. Having read the work, I can decidedly pronounce it next to a miracle for Davis to perform at the time it was published. Ira Armstrong told me that he often had impressions that Jackson would attain some distinguished position in the world, but did not dream it would take the direction it has. He was a practical utilitarian of the Dr. Franklin school, and never doubted the success of any one who had a, trade, and a disposition to follow it with patience and economy. He was a man of candor and philanthbropy. His present address is Huntington, Indiana. I have taken an interest in clairvoyance, as developed in the career of Jackson; and, being personally acquainted with him, I have traced his progressive steps, and read most of his works up to the present time. Having doubts upon the immortality of the soul, I hoped to be convinced through that source, and have often conversed with him upon the subject. He has ever told me, since he became developed to a communion with spirits, that to himself it was knowledge —not faith; for, in his interior state, he both saw and conversed with the disembodied. I have no doubt of his sincerity, nor of its reality to him; but, as I am low in the organ of marvellousness, and constitutionally an honest skeptic, I do not, up to this time, feel clear upon the immortal existence of our race. But I am still investigating all alleged sources of information, with the view of finding the " pearl of great price." Let this be as it may, however, I can truly say that I considerA. J. Davis as one of the marvels of the age, and his "H -arinonial Philosophy" as one of the purest and most reasonable systems of religion extant. It professes to teach the gospel, as inspired by "Father-God and Mother-Nature," and is fully worthy of' such an origin. Designed, in the "good time coming," of which it is the prompter and forerunner, to establish harmony, justice, and happiness in the earth, and fit our race for blissful abodes in any future life that may await them, I bid it " God speed," and recommend it and its author to the favorable consideration of the world. Hoping that I may one day realize the truth of his sublime anticipations and exalted theories, I hereby subscribe myself the candid friend and rational admirer of the life and writings of Andrew Jackson Davis. JAMns FLAGLER. 156 BnROADWA-1 INEEW YORK, >February 17, 1856. INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS. 15 3. Wly does Mir. Davis, in writing this history, portray events so minutely, and especially those of his juvenile days? Though. many of these events are related in humorous style, and with a particularity that may seem trivial; still, it should be remembered that nothing is unimportant which tends to build up the immortal structure of Soul; and no language is irrelevant that helps to picture the consecutive stages of its advancement. That I am not alone in this estimate, may be seen by the following suggestive quotation from a paragraph in the New Orleans Picayune:"The world is made up of trifles. The grand movements of great events, and the changes of empires, are founded in causes, very generally, which would be pronounced trifles by the world. Yes,' trifles light as air' have led to some of the most important discoveries we have. The fall of an apple gave Newton the clue to gravitation; the rising up of the lid of a tea-kettle gave us our railroads, steamboats, ocean-steamers, and a thousand other things -not to speak of the press —that, combined, put the world centuries ahead in the mysteries of the universe and the purposes of God. To the observation of a flower dimly pictured on a stone, we owe the philosophical researches in chemistry and light which ultimately gave us the daguerreotype...... "The foundation of the Roman empire was a cunning trick in an individual combat, or duel. American liberty and thirty-one glorious states arose from a strong cup of tea made by the Bostonians in 1775. A little piece of magnetized steel led to the discovery of a New World. The erection of a sawmill in California changed the currency of the world. The crossing of a little stream of water speedily subverted the liberties of Rome, and gave the name of Brutus immortality. From a little acorn the grand American forests have sprung:-' A pebble in the streamlet scant Has changed the course of many a river; A dewdrop on the baby plant IJab warned the giant oak for ever!' 16 INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS. It is impossible to enumerate, especially in a newspaper article, the almost numberless'trifles' that have produced numberless great events, and made numberless radical changes in the history and destiny of the world. Suffice it to say that' trifles' are not to be scoffed at. The world may learn great, and true, and valuable lessons from these same trifles.' The fable of the lion who was released from his prison by a little mouse, was written by a great man. Upon a less foundation than this there have been erected deathless poetry, wonderful tragedies, and many noble novels. Hold nothing in contempt: nothing contemptible ever came from the hands of the Almighty. The worlds which the microscope has revealed to us in the drop of water, are as wonderful and mysterious as the bright and beautiful worlds brought to our eyes by the telescope. The loathsome caterpillar, which we long to crush beneath our feet, will one day be a beautiful creature, with rainbows for wings. The little pool of dirty water into which we have stepped will be woven into a bright and beautifully-embroidered veil, by the miraculous sun, for the face of the queen who trails her robe of light among the countless stars!" 4. How can the Author state with certainty the circumstances of his earliest life? His father, Samuel Davis, and his eldest sister, Eliza P. Williams, are still living, and have a vivid remembrance of the varied domestic scenes through which their rugged pathway has led. Hence, they have freely furnished particulars concerning all the events whiclL transpired previous to the hour when their juvenile relative awaked into conscious memory. 5. W.y does he give the exact language of his vernal associates? Should our Author round out and grammaticize those chaotic passages of conversation, which show his own early mental defects no less than those of his illiterate companions, it would be a departure from that stractfic felzty to truth which characterizes this work, as well as every previous action of his life. As it is, these INITIAL C( NSIDERATIONS. 17 faithfully-reported colloquies show how far he was removed from all advantages, such as refined and educated parents, brothers, sisters, and playmates, are likely to bring to the opening faculties of childhood. Nor was the misfortune of such a beginning counteracted by any subsequent polish of the schools. But, to the true child of Nature, time and circumstance are not. He has his own awakening, in the still regions of Thought-over which there is the flutter of no wing-through which there is the rushing of no tide. On and on, over the swift pathway of suns, is then his flight, till his feet press the centre of Universes, and all around him stretches off the surging sea of Life! 6. What is the moral bearing of this Autobiography? To the young, its mission is evidently of great importance. While it holds their attention by the charm of anecdote, it will teach them lessons of virtue, which afiy number of moral harangues, however finished and elaborate, might fail to impress on their untaught faculties. The child-nature will inevitably be encouraged, by perusing these pages, to avoid duplicity, anger, dishonesty, profanity, and intemperance; and to cultivate gentleness, kindness, hopefulness, purity, and integrity. To parents and guardians, it will be as a living mentor, aiding them to comprehend how tenderly the young mind should be treated, how carefully and judiciously trained, in order that seeds of virtue, harmony, and progressioni may be early sown. In this regard, the humble pair who gave immortal being to the writer of these memoirs might be referred to as worthy of imitation by many of far greater pretensions and intelligence. Untutored in all that- pertains to polite society, poverty-haunted and contemned, they still watched carefully the daily conduct of their son, and kindly, though promptly and thoroughly, corrected every act that seemed to lean toward moral delinquency. To all classes, the story of such a life will be a well-spring of hope. The experiences of the "Harmonial Philosopher," thus far, are sufficient in themselves to prove the blessed truth of im 18 INITIAL CONSIDERATIONS. mortality, and the possibility of intercommunion with the happy dwellers in our radiant Spirit-Home. Nor is this all. The diverse situations, the temptations, the trials, the discouragements, and the triumphs, that have marked his past career, are a study, the pursuit of which will awaken courage and inspire aspiration in the souls of the most despised and desponding. That he has reached a state of beautiful existence, where his affections are warm and beaming, his intellect clear and comprehensive, his soul pure, serene, devotional, and steadfast, and his heart ever filled with a " joy unspeakable and full of glory," by the dewy freshness of Wisdom's precious gifts -that he has reached this glorious eminence, in spite of organizational faults and discouraging conditions —is a fact in human development full of promise, even to the lowliest and loneliest child of God! MARY F. DAVIS. NEW YonK, April, 1857. THE MAGIC STAFF. CHAPTER I. THE USE OF AUTOBIOGRAPHY. "Tell me not in mournful numbers,'Life is but an empty dream!' For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem." IT seems to me that nothing less than the Divine Intelligence can comprehend the infinite possibilities and the eternal destinies that slumber in the forthcoming germ of a human being. Nothing can be of more importance, to such a being, than Existence; all else, as time ultimately demonstrates, is secondary and subservient. The beginning and the end of all human endeavor is, TO EXIST. The arts, and sciences, and machinations, by which men subsist, are as transient as the passing clouds —as ephemeral as the shadows of earth-born dreams. And'yet, without these transient arts and time-serving inventions, human existence would be impossible. Indeed, the foundation of existence is laid in the art of subsistence, and no two relations were ever more inseparable. Nay, more, without the myriad 20 T~HE MAGIC STAFF. items which on review we find strung on the rosary of the flowing years; without the manifold imperceptible and unrecordable attentions bestowed by mother and father, by brother and sister, by the friendly neighbor, and " the stranger within thy gates"-without thlese, there could be no preservation of body, no awakening of love, no increase of knowledge, no satisfaction with life, noEXISTENCE. Hence it is, that, despite themselves, and apparently in direct violation of broader aspirations, mankind devour with an instinctive relish whatever is supposed to be truly autobiographical. If a person seriously report himself in some periodical, even though an utter stranger, the world will receive the news with an appetite insatiable. The realm of subsistence is the realm of biography. For example, every adult reads with grateful pleasure of the discovery of America; but when the private story of the Discoverer is told, then behold how all classes, and all ages, of both sexes, imbibe the biographical revealments! The history of the world is interesting; that of a person is fascinating. There is always something in a stranger's experience which no mortal can divulge save the stranger himself. The illiterate confessions of a human being about to be hanged, are unspeakably more thrilling and impressive if told by himself than by another, even if that other be his spiritual adviser, and an adept in the art of narration. This instinct for autobiography is implanted in the nature of all men; but, when left to seek gratification unguided by Wisdom, it rapidly degenerates into deformity, and exhibits imperfections the most repulsive. Pernicious talebearing and extemporaneous gossip disturb an otherwise peaceful community. The sanctuary of private life is ruthlessly entered by a gang of headlong biographical investigators; and the individual character is tarred and feathered, if not lynched, by an infuriated mob of reputable newspaper-scribblers or unscrupulous pamphleteers. All this is deplored, both in private and in public, by true men and noble women. THE USE OF AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 21 Again: it may and does sometimes happen that the principal events of individual experience are wrapped in mystery and uncertainty, or may be distorted by the flitting shadows of appearances and uncontradicted reports. Now, should a person thus misinterpreted pass along without taking his own life, why, then he is liable to be unexpectedly assaulted, and perhaps murdered, by some supposed friend or unknown foe. Hence it follows, as by a logical necessity, that if individual life has in it developments of any practical value to mankind — if it contains any fresh lessons of encouragement and instruction, and is at the same time involved in falsehood or mystery-then it most manifestly becomes a worlk of justice and mercy for the said person not to retire at death intestate, but to bequeath to all whom it may concern a straightforward and conscientious autobiography —a plain rendering of the voyage of life —a confession of the inner Heart. Mlan is born near the base of a hill-in a valley full of shadows; but, once out of the cradle, he begins to climb. lie forthwith struggles and pants, impelled by the hidden force of destiny, to attain the summit. With an eye upon the sunny future, but knowing not the pathway, he tugs, and frets, and tumbles, at every turn. The mists of the valley may envelop him, the dreary waste of poverty and disease may stretch away between the hill and him, his path may pass even through the solitudes of the dismal swamp; yet, undaunted, and led by unseen guardians, he pushes boldly forward, and gains triumphantly the height of his first ambition: when, lo! he finds himself in a valley still, or-which is the same thing, but more suggestive -at the base of an eminence yet higher and more irresistibly attractive. I make these symbolic affirmations, because the journey of my own life has been fiom the common level of birth to the summit of a commanding hill. The first position reached, I saw a vale before me; anda, beyond this, a yet higher hill for my feet to climb. In due time and trial, this greater eminence was also safely reached; and, strange to relate, I found myself at the foot of still another 22 THE MAGIC STAFF. elevation, which was yet more mountainous and more difficult of ascent. Yet my way was plainly pointed out and shown me; and so, amid impediments apparently insurmountable, I pursued the rugged mission. The broad magnificence of the scene, from the fertile summit of this majestic mountain, far transcended every previous picture or experience. For a while I dwelt contented on this gorgeous mountain-home from which I could see the errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, and significance, of every vale below, through which I had passed. It was like standing on a solid rock by the seaside, away from turmoil and danger, beholding ships as they rise and fall and struggle with the storm. For thus it was that, far down the hills, and everywhere in the vales below, I could see my fellow-men, too proud to be taught, jumping from gorge to cliff, and marring their personal welfare at every step, vainly striving to reach the Highest and the Best by methods impossible to prove advantageous. At length, however, I was moved to turn my face in the direction of my pilgrimage; and, lo! contrary to my expectations, I saw that the high elevation, on which I had made my home, was but the basis of still another mountain, more stupendous and distant than any over which. I had found my way. There was a work to do on this higher place; and, as I will hereafter show, that work was accomplished. Between this last elevation and another mountain, which is yet scarcely visible in the extreme distance before me, is an intervening vale. In this valley I am now temporarily residing, just as I have spent weeks and months in other valleys behind me; and my occupation, while thus tarrying, is to write this Autobiography. This will be the first public writing, except the ordinary work of answering correspondents, that I ever did while sojourning in a vale. But this is not to be wondered at, because this valley is higher up —is more elevated and commanding -than the highest peak of the second mountain; thus giving me normal abilities THE USh OF AUTOBIOGRAPHY. better than I then possessed, even after a thorough magnetization. To relate what happened to me in the many and various regions which I have from time to time explored, both while in the valleys and on the mountains, and to give the rationale of the providential precision with which my feet have been made to step from one mental position to another, will be the sole end and purpose of this volume. Be patient, then, dear reader, and judge not till thou hast travelled with me through the successive chapters of my life. T E M.AGXC 2TA FV' CIIAPTER II. THE LOCAL HABITATION. IN vain might the inquisitive antiquarian read through Humboldt's scientific observations of natural scenery; in vain study the travels and discoveries of the world-renowned Peter Parley; in vain dream through the poetic descriptions of Bayard Taylor, the cosmopolite, whose wandering footsteps on oriental lands are sought by hundreds who choose travelling through books to encountering perils by sea and land; in vain peruse any history-to become acquainted with the existence of a certain isolated, unpainted, unfinished dwelling, in which was enacted the first scene in the lifedrama which is about to be delineated. You need not marvel at this omission on the part of ubiquitous historians, because there was nothing about this human habitation worthy of the least remark, save the conspicuous humility of its structure and immediate surroundings. It was built about the year 1824, in Blooming-Grove, Orange county, in the state of New York; and vwas owned in part by a half-weaver and half-shoemaker, but wholly honest man, who, in common with his wife, had amassed considerable of that property, both real and personal, which is most easily acquired by the married poor, under the specific titles of Eliza, Jane, Sylvanus, Amanda, and Julia Ann. The husband had attained the summit of forty-five years. Poverty had left its traces upon him. All the days of his youth were replete with self-supporting endeavors. As soon as the sun of :7-i~ ~ ~ a S ~ i A BIRI- PAC EOF J.DAIS THE LOCAL HIABITATION. 2. boyhood had arisen upon him, he was bound out as an apprentice to learn the art of weaving with the hand-loom: and while the web of his private life was being woven by external circumstances, he acquired the rare accomplishment, without books or school-teachers, of weaving linen fabrics, cotton and woollen cloths, and ragcarpetings. In subsequent years, on discovering that he could not support a family by the loom alone, he set himself to learn the trade of repairing dilapidated boots and shoes-an art which, aided by his native talent to invent and persevere, soon expanded into larger dimensions. In a word, he graduated from the primary condition of " cobbler" to the more productive and reputable position of journeyman shoemaker. As he divided his time between the loom and the bench, with an occasional variation in the way of farming for a' few days now and then, we shall mark him as the half-weaver and half-shoemaker of this history. The wife, upon whose form the weary weight of thirty-three years had left its mark, was equally destitute of education, her only dowry being a frail body, animated by a spirit which ever appeared like a stranger in a strange land. Her inward nature was simple and childlike. The heavy chains of inevitable poverty, which her husband could and did wear with only ordinary fietting, on the contrary had the effect, combined with his intemperance, to cut deep channels in the very substance of her soul. -She had many excellent endowments, however, which, in moments of great trial, shone beautifully forth. Of these traits we shall have occasion to speak in subsequent pages. In regard to their children it may be remarked, en passant, that the imperishable parts of little Jane and Amanda had flown from the shadows of Earth. There was a melancholy vacancy in the family group, and there were two more elevations in the churchyard, to remind the bereft that they had been. The country in all that region, at the time of which we write, was just becoming obedient to the spirit of civilization. Standing in the door of the poor man's home, or looking from either window c) 20 THE:MAGIC STAFF. of blistered glass, a rough and rugged landscape would rest upor the vision. And yet industrious farmers had cut and cleared away the manifold hinderances to their progress; and instead of unproductive stones and fields of riseless undergrowth, you might behold in many directions apple-orchards, and well-fenced tracts of land, covered with a fair quality of grass and grains. The work of refinement and extermination, however, was still unfinished. Besides other evidences of a semi-civilization in that region which could be mentioned, were an abundance of venomous reptiles known as " pilot-snakes," or copperheads, whose sociable propensities became at times a source of no little annoyance. We are told by an eye-witness that these loathsome creatures-would crawl against the basement-lights and look fearlessly in, sometimes entering the humble dwelling, as if to welcome the impoverished family to that part of the world, with a special desire to exchange hospitalities. It was near the close of a sultry day, August 11, 1826, when the half-weaver and half-shoemaker received the intelligence that another item of property had been added to his estate. The attendant physician, after due examination of the title, &c., declared it to be free and unencumbered. "You don't say so!" exclaimed the exultant cordwainer, who had just returned, with unsteady step, from the nearest village. "Yes I do, sir," said the doctor; " and what is more, your baby, sir, is a fine-looking boy." "A boy, eh?" soliloquized the enriched man-" that's good! — that's just what I wanted —that's the best luck yet!" Overcome by the congratulations of nurse and doctor, and with his head swimming in a river of parental delight, he seated himself to collect his scattered thoughts. But rest and sobriety were impossible. In fact, if the sad truth must be told, the effect of the intoxicating draught was already upon his brain. Thus conditioned, he went reeling and dancing to the sick-couch, to take THIE LOCAL HABITATION. %7 a survey of the plump little parcel of poor man's riches; which, as already said, had been so recently added to his previous. good fortune. After feasting his eyes to his heart's content, and satisfying himself fully that it was not all a dream, he bethought to ask the prostrate woman concerning her situation. 283 THE MAGIC STAFF. CIIAPTER III. THE NAMIE.'' Many have died in their misery, And left their thought untold." TIHE breathing of mountain-verdure and the sweet fragrance of harvest-fields, added to the music that floated in from the purling streamlet below the sloping eminence on which the house was built, had the effect to revive the mother from the sinking weakness consequent upon her accouchment. But the exhalations of a whiskey-breath, which now passed like a pestilential miasm over her, summoned a return of those despairing moods with which for years she had been only too familiar. "I do wish you would keep sober," she sadly said, "and get ihings in the house to do with." " Oh, never you fret and worry about me; I guess I can keep the family out of the county-house a while longer," returned the still jolly father. The presence of the nurse and a neighbor served only to increase the mother's mortification. She looked up into his face as he bent over her, and, with one of those expressions which can only arise from fear, grief, and despondency, she said:" Now, do try to keep steady! Do n't stand here. Go awayIway!w " The nurse now offered her some scanty refreshment; and, from sheer exhaustion, she closed her large, dark eyes in slumber. THE NAME. 29 By this time the children, who for some to them unaccountable reason had been sent to visit a neighbor, hearing that the doctor had left a baby for mother, came rushing in like so many young colts. Eliza, the eldest, who possessed the not uncommon virtue (which treads hard uporn the heels of a vice) of being particularly amiable only when everything went to please her, demanded an immediate sight of the new-comer. The cheerful nurse held the baby up for exhibition. But it was a boy, and for that reason received a provoked slap from Eliza, who in a moment was ready to quarrel with the doctor and everybody else. "Don't let me see you do that again!" said the awakened mother, as she pressed the darling yet closer to her loving heart; "what do you mean by that —say?" " Oh, pshaw i" exclaimed the wilful daughter; "why didn't the plaguy old doctor bring mother a little gal? I won't have a boy'bout me- -can't do nothin' with such such a young'un. I want a baby-gal to dress up and play with -so, there!" Saying this, she walked sulkily out, leaving the less excitable and less disappointed brother and sister to look, and think, and indulge their childish curiosity, on the new things that had come to pass. At this time, as is usual for months previous to presidential elections in the United States, there was more or less discussion concerning the merits, and especially the demerits, of the antagonistic candidates. There was a certain major-general, well known for the decisive victory he gained over the English at New Orleans in 1815, which terminated the war. This notoriety was still more extended, with which his popularity kept even pace, in consequence of the invincibility of his will to quell the Creek tribe of Indians. The gallantry of his exploits, and the success which ever crowned his efforts on the battle-field, secured tho gratitude and admiration of every true democratic inhabitant of America: in part expression of which, the party bearing that name brought him forward as a candidate for the highest honor possible to bestow in a country so republicar. 3 0 THE MIAGIC STAFF. "Hiilo, there! I say, you, hillo! What's turned up? How's the woman by this time? And how's the baby? Come, let's know!" Uncle Thomas Maffet, from whom this abrupt salutation proceeded, at first acted as if determined to remain seated in his wagon, with which he had just arrived fiom the village, freighted with a plough and other implements used in the art of agriculture. Friendship and cordial good-humor generally, beamed forth from his countenance, giving even a stranger to believe that any such determination was to him quite impossible. And so it proved. iTot waiting to be invited, out he jumped, and, laughing with that heartiness which is so natural to nutritive temperaments, he entered the poor man's habitation. "Well, neighbor Davis, when did the thing happen?" asked the farmer, as he bent over the roughl-hewn cradle of domestic manufacture, and turned off the coverlet that concealed the baby from his view. "Four days ago," replied the cordwainer. "What d'ye think of the little lapstone?" "Four days old, eh?" and Uncle Maffet tried to get the infant into his arms. But those days were without temperance lecturers. Farmers considered it next to impossible to work at mowing and reaping, during the hottest days, without some sort of stimulating beverage to keep body and soul decently together. So thought the present visitor, at least, as his trembling hand and unsteady eye too clearly testified. "Take the child," said the sick woman, addressing the nurse; "I'm afraid Uncle Thomas will let him fall." The baby was returned to the rustic cradle, and the still unreconciled Eliza-which disposition she contrived to make manifest by sundry emphatic twitches and jerks of the rocker-was told to keep the child from crying. Meantime, the two men struck up a political talk, and went through the usual agreements and contradictions regarding the merits and demerits of the popular candidates. THE NAMIE. 31 "Who d'you vote for, next election, neighbor Davis?" inquired the farmer. - "I'm Old Hickory, up to the hub!" replied the cordwainer, who prided himself on being right up and down on matters of opinion. "Ditto," returned the good-natured Thomas. "lNow, I'll tell you what, neighbor —if you want to please me to-day, you'll let me name that'are boy of yourn." " Oh, I do n't care who names him - what d' you say, mother?" said the fther, addressing his wife, who was still extremely debilitated.'' Don't let the child fall, or get hurt —that's the most I care about," she replied; which was taken as equivalent to a verbal consent. "Enough said!" exclaimed the laughing Thomas; "now let's hiss the nurse i" On hearing this, the excitable and irreconcilatble Eliza sprang to her feet and ran like a wild fox into the field, to tell the children who were at play. The whole thing was done in the twinkling of an eye. "Uncle Thomas Taiffet is come, and is goin' to name the baby. Come quick i" Whereupon, Julia A nn tried to get hold of Sylvanus's hand, and Sylvanus grasped after Eliza's, but missed it, and tumbled headlong into the entangling grass; then Eliza, who had by this time almost reached the house, catching the sound of the cry Cor help, went bounding back to jerk Sylvanus along; when, as baad luck would have it, Julia Ann discovered that she had lost her sun-bonnet, and couldn't go without it; whereupon Eliza, whose nominal business it was to take care of the younger members, flew round here and there through the grass in wildest haste, and, not finding the article, had the additional misfortune to lose her patience; then, sans bonnet and sans patience, back they scampered under a full he.ad of explosive culiosity, which as a motive 93 2 THE MIAGIC STAFF. force is next to steanm; each running and tumbling afgainst the other alternately, and by divers indescribable mistakes impeding one another's progress, until the juvenile trio stood side by side nearly out of breath, looking at the farmer as he contrived to balance himself sufficiently to give the mother confidence in hii ability to hold the baby as safely as anybody else. With his usual mental agility, the half-weaver and half-shoemaker mounted the high summit of parental excitement, and shared in the momentary harmony of blended interests, to which tile maternal bosom was far from being insensible. A large glass of brandy was placed in the farmer's left hand, while on the right arm rested the inantt candidate. The faithful old nurse stood very near, however, to catch the baby, should it fall from the intoxicated embrace. This amiable assistant was not a little relievedl when informed that "'kissing the nurse" meant drinking the brandy, and nothing more. "Attention, company!" said the inebriated Thomas. "The first thing I want to know is, whether you'll call this'ere boy just what I say." Affirmative exclamations leaped from every mouth. 4 "Well, then," he continued, "remember this: I'm a-goin' to vote for'Old Hickory,' the hero of New Orleans- the greatest man a-livin' in the world; and I want this'ere boy to bear that'are great man's name-ANDREW JACEKSON! And now, neighbor Davis, keep in mind my words —I ain't so boozy as you seem to think. I know what I'm a-sayin'-and (hic) I say (hic) that are great man's name (hic) hasn't reached further than will the influence of this'ere son of yourn! I-e'll grow up a young (hic)'HIickory' —mind that; and you'll never be sorry (hice) that he was born i" Nothing could be more evident than that the good Uncle Thomas had waxed more patriotic, and more pathetic, and more prophetic, than he at first intended, or supposed himself capable of; and instead of the laughing, mouth and dizzy eye, there fell upon him the spell of a serious and religious temper, which seemed to sob(er THE NAME. 13 his brain, and open a new place in-his heart. It was a beautiful scene! No magic art ever wrought a change so quick and thorough. A breathless hush, like that of death, spread through the room-which stillness nothing broke, save the heavings of the farmer's breast. He seemed to blend his destiny with that of the lwhole world; and, while sobbing like the infant in his arms, he invoked "the blessing of Heaven" to rest upon them all. Uncle Maffet, almost entirely sobered, then hurriedly departed homeward; and, although an- apparently healthy man, he was, but a few days subsequently, placed beneath the soil. The baby's sad mother believed, for years afterward, that the jovial neighbor w,'a made solemn by a providential vision of his own funeral. 2* o) THE MAGIC STAFF. CHAPTER IV. TIIE VENDUE AND DEPARTURE. N oNE but the poor can fully understand the multitudinous perplexities which crowd themselves into their struggles for daily subsistence. The catalogue of items that stand between the family and what is called "respectable circumstances," are well nigh beyond computation. Discouragements stare the impoverished household directly in the face, at nearly every turn in the path of life. So, at least, thought the man whose unpainted and incomplete homestead was not yet paid for, and whose various other exertions to establish himself had met with many unbearable defeats. For two whole years after the birth of the last-named child, the half-weaver and half-shoemaker, with now and then the terrible exception of intemperance, steadily combated the host of petty obstacles which ever arise in the poor man's presence; but without success. The self-conscious, non-adaptation of his wife to the warfare consequent upon the rearing of a family, combined with the frequent lack of patient and indulgent affection, which her nature silently craved as the foundation-element of her every thought and effort, had the effect to generate painful misunderstandings, and discouragements innumerable. On such occasions the excitable husband would do the principal amount of talking and fault-finding, while the wife, naturally deficient in the usual ease of expression wherewith to contend and explain, would sink right down into a state of depression the most piteous to behold. During these two years there happened nothing of any note to THE VENDUE AND DEPARTURE. 35 the individual child whose biography we are now recording: but to another member of the family an important change had occurred; the chronology of which is written on a blank leaf between the Old and New Testaments. There happened a curious incident, in connection with that " change," which we will here digress sufficiently to relate. The children were out playing upon the hillside, bounding'hither and thither with a freedom quite spontaneous, when Sylvanus seemed to be suddenly transfixed with a visual wonder. "Eliza!" he presently exclaimed, "come quick-d'you see that?" CSee what?" she hastily inquired. "' That'are light yonder!" N' o, you foolish feller, I don't see nothin'!" returned she. " Then you're real blind," said he, somewhat provoked, " can't you see that'are round white lilght moving right along over the grass yonder, toward the woods?" "No, nor you nuther!" replied Eliza. Then little Julia Ann tried and strained her bright blue eyes, but all to no purpose; whereupon Sylvanus, actuated by a medley of motives, in which alarm and disappointment acted the principal parts, ran straight home " to tell mother all about it." When the mother heard the boy's hasty account of what he hlad just seen, she affected no interest in it whatever, and with her accustomed quietness of tone, bade him return to his play among the children. And yet, to one familiar with the woman's mental peculiarities, there were certain lines on her countenance which betokened an inward grief. When asked by Eliza, " what ailed her," she sadly replied: — "Sylvanus will soon leave us." But her reputation in her husband's mind for being a believer in dreams, and for putting confidence in signs, and omens, and superstitions, caused him to eject an unsympathetic "'Poh!" at everything of the kind. The day soon arrived, lowever, when 3 G TIE fMAGIC STAFF. the skeptical father might have been seen sorrowfully preparing a coffin, to hold all that was mortal of his son Sylvanus. WhenA ever his opinion of this circumstance was subsequently sought, the cordwainer would reply, with ill-suppressed impatience, " Poh, nonsense; the light hadn't nothing to do with his death 1" Notwithstanding, however, this habitual rejection of whatever appeared extraordinary; notwithstanding even the common vice of intemperance to which he was addicted, it should be here noticed, that this man's disposition was neither profane, uncharitable, nor irreligious. On the contrary, he seemed ever ready to condemn penuriousness and dishonesty, as well as every expression of religious disbelief. To return: believing it to be impossible to support the family, and also to pay for the humble dwelling in which this history begins, the desponding cordwainer packed up his " kit" (or tools) and gave public notice that lie meant to migrate to some other section of the Empire state. No man ever possessed a stronger or more resolute propensity, when once he fairly got the notion, to sacrifice at auction every household god, and try his luck elsewhere. And, perhaps, there never was a feminine nature more fond of a fixed and settled "home," than that of his companion; and, perhaps, also, no person's disposition was ever more perplexed and injured by the frequent recurrence of such violent breaking up of every local affection, than hers. "Don't be in a hurry, father," she imploringly exclaimed one day-as her husband avowed his resolution to make "a clean sweep" of the pig, hens, house, and furniture-" do n't be so impa. - tient to be off. We've had trouble enough already. A rolling stone, you know, never gathers no moss." "M31y mind's made up," he sternly and quickly replied, "and I'm determined to be away from this." "Next season may be better for us," continued she encoura. gingly; "it's hard to pack up, you know, and it's so painful to move away amongs utter strangers." THE VENDUE AND DEPARTURE. 37 "I won't be in debt," returned the honest half-weaver and halfshoemaker, " I'll be bound if I'll stay here-hanging by the eyelids, as I am-no! not I —I'll sell and quit." The certainty of having a vendue, and of selling everything at a sacrifice, broke with a melancholy force upon the domesticated inature of the wife. It was another wound to her inhabitative hlleart; and opened afresh many sores in the inner memory which hlad not yet healed up. "Change, change, nothing but change," she sighed —" Oh, when shall we rest?" And she went on with a weary step, doing up the housework. But the disheartened cordwainer, having resolved, as he said, "to pull up stakes and leave," continued to defend himself and fortify his positions on the question of an auction and departure. Taking his wife's words to signify a proposition to postpone proceedings, the bare intimation of which, to his temperament, was a quick cause of impatience and irritation-he beganl combating the evils of procrastination, in the following definite style:"If there's anything I hate, it's this dilly-dallying along, and this putting things off'. What's the use? Nothing ventured nothing had. When I see anything to do, I want to do it-and not be for ever doing nothing. There hain't work enough for me on the bench, nor at the loom nuther; and the farm-work is good only a short spell right in haying and harvest-so there's no let up - I'm determined to go! You needn't firet about it. We'll sell out -make a clean breast of everything -pay all we can, and seek our fortune among strangers." There was a quick, keen, resolute twinkle in his brown eyes, as he spoke; which was too well known to the worn and fiagile woman; for her only reply was a long-drawn, sad sigh, as if her heart was loaded with a full consciousness of the impending trial. Now in regard to procrastination, there is surely much to be thought. Half the minor troubles of the domestic world may be referred, with justice, to this cause alone. The indolent habit of postponing the work of to-day until to-mortiow, is next to a vice, 3 8 TIITE MAGIC STAFF. if, indeed, it be not, strictly speaking, a crime against the soul's happiness and prosperity. Persons who gracefully put off, firom day to day, the performance of duties which belong to the time when they are first seen to be duties, are usually considered as being afflicted with only an amiable human weakness. But the truth is, that no weakness ever came nearer mnerging into a heinous moral deformity, and producing a vast multitude of misfortunes, than this same procrastination! IHundreds of families suffer domestic annoyances, of which-but for this indolent habit of postponement-they would never have the least practical knowledge. A quick and reliable sense of justice is seldom found in that mind which shirks the trial of the hour, and pleads the necessity of procrastination. But the difficulty in this instance was, an ungovernable impatience under the restraints and drawbacks of poverty. If the conscientious shoemaker had been endowed, like. his wife, with a spirit less fond of domestic adventure, and more of a disposition to work right straight through a mountain of difficulties, like some men, there would have been greater unity and more social satisfauction in the isolated habitation. There is, without doubt, much wisdom in procrastination, under circumstances when the thing to be done properly belongs to some future day; but only the truly wise can safely and successfully practise it. Idleness is ever more to be feared and shunned than energy and action. The wife possessed a spirit of meekness and quiet, unqualified by any really positive element of character; which frequently caused her to submit and be defeated even by an ordinary trial; while the husband, ever ambitious to be "up and doing," and- with no submissive will, would urge her into positions the most distressing, because foreign to her organization. Destitute of the commonest education, and, therefore, without a charitable solution of human weaknesses, each sadly misunderstood and painfully afflicted the other-she, by feeling and saying disheartening things; he, by disregarding her most tender and predominating sensibilities. THE VENDUE AND DEPARTURE. 39 We stop to notice these peculiarities, in order that the reasonable reader may the better comprehend the parentage and social condition of the subject of this biography. It may be added in this place, that this radical or temperamental incompatibilitythe barrier to conjugal peace and unity which Nature had unmis takably erected between husband and wife-came out with life. like manifestations in the mental characteristics of Eliza. and, in fact, with more or less distinctness, in each of the subsequent offspring. Hence, in this case, as in every other of like nature, each child was born with certain hereditary disadvantages of body and disposition; which, to modify and control, required a labor of many years; besides makin the summit of "personal harmony" of no easy attainment, even after its outlines became visible in the far distance, and it was recognised as being within the reach of human effort. " Well, I can't help it then 1" the mother at length resumed, with a complaining sigh, "we'll all go to rack and ruin; and where we'll go next the mercy only knows. WTIhen will the vendue be?" The half-weaver and half-shoemaker turned his eyes from the " stone on his lap and the strap on his knee," and replied in a tone somewhat subdued and mirthful:"Do n't know, eh i Wlhy you just sail'we'll go to rack and ruin.' Day after to-morrow, at ten o'clock, forenoon, the trumpery will all be sold under the hammer.'Tis hard, I knovw, mother; but-who cares?" This tenderness and mirth were ominous-indeed, they were a certain proof —that the bottle-imp had perched himself on the throne of the unbalanced brain. The noted day at last arrived, and the housekeeping articles, of little value, were sold one by one, and carried away to homes and families more permanent and happy. The wilful Eliza concealed some knives and forks, and smuggled them away with a few revered keepsakes -- thus retaining, contrary to her father's expressed wishes, the basis of a future home. But nothing 10 THE MAGIC STAFF. Of importance was rescued fiom the ravages of the auction-sales, save the bedding material, which was put straight into a, baggage-wagon for immediate emigration. Eliza was running and jumping about with Julia Ann, regardless of the sufferings endured by the bewildered mother; while the father, full of fictitious courage and alcoholic hopes, lent a hand to every one who asked, and cheerfully laughed at his own calamity. Presently, the word came-" All aboard!" —meaning, all in the travelling wagonand, in a few minutes, you milght have seen the depressed mother, with the boy-baby in her lap, the two daughters stowed in between the bundles of bedding, and the half-weaver and halfshoemaker in front with the thirsty driver-all, pioneer-like, except in unity of purpose, going, without compass or rudder, on a reckless voyage of domestic discovery. The thousand and one little hardships and shipwrecks which the impoverished family experienced, between the Blooming Grove house and the less agreeable tenement of John Myers. in Staatsburgh, N'ew York, we will not stop to delineate. Suffice it to say, that the wanderers eventually terminated their journeyings in a spot yet more isolated than the -one they had deserted- a place where the writer's first impressions of existence took their rise-and where, therefore, the biographical character of preceding chapters becomes transformed into sober autobiography and history incidental. MY FIRST MEMORIES.. I CHAPTER V. MY FIRST MIE3IORIES. "' When at eve I sit alone, Thinking on the past and gone - While the clock, with drowsy finger, Marks how long the minutes lingerAnd the embers, dimly burning, Tell of life to dust returningThen my lonely chair around, With a quiet, mournful sound With a murmur soft and low, Come the Ghosts of Long Ago!" WHEN the Soul makes its first record on the ledger-leaf of Miemory, it then merges from the mystic vale of babyhood into a definite and self-conscious being. Individuality and memory are, therefore, inseparable in autobiography. The semi-unfounded tales of contemporaries may thenceforward be revised and corrected by the individual himself. Without egotism, then, the personal pronoun 1"I" may be hereafter used. Henceforth whatever might appear uncertain in history, becomes, by this direct testimony, translated and actualized to the reader as being next in value to positive knowledge. Three years and a few weeks had glided away ere Memory received the news that, without and beyond itself, there existed an objective world. This was in the autumn of 1829. By means of intro-and-retro-spection, the original scene is easily revived and made manifest. I was in the open air, with my face toward 12 THE MAGIC TrAPP. a small, weather-beaten, lonely house, but which, to my inexperienced mind, looked like a very spacious and wonderful superstructure. Whether I had ever been in it or not, I could not remember. Towering trees environed the strange domicil; and a road, the use of which I could form no conception, stretched away through the dreamy depths of the encircling wilderness. "What is them high things called?" I soliloquized, viewing the erect and wavy trees so very far above my head. "And what's that called?" I asked, pointing my finger toward the dilapidated tenement, the dimensions of which seemed so great. But, quicker than thought, there flashed athwart my nature a dreadful feeling of lonely and helpless desolation; and awaking, as it were, from a dream of fright and anxiety, I screamed a wcord, the sound of which I had till then no knowledge of my power to make - iother! mnotheer! Like the fabulous Robinson Crusoe, while a lone wanderer on the island of Juan Fernandez, I started in surprise at the cry with which my own voice broke the deep silence. And yet, as I can now well remember, there vwas somethingr in the term " fMother" which seemed familiar and full of blessed significance. Like a magic wand, it appeared to topen a narrow pathway through some well-known landscape: and this path presently ultimated in cei'tain definite enclosures-perhaps, reproducing an idea of the rooms in the- rural dwelling already described as my birthplace. C WVhat is' lotlher'?" i could not tell. Whether it had form, size, and dimensions, or was the absence of these, I could not decide. Two sensations I knew: my personal littleness, made more appalling by the contrast of the great trees and immense house before me; and my desolate state, more terrifying because I could see nothing like myself in any direction. When I screamed M' Iother 1" I evidently appreciated the fact that I was soliciting, imploring, demanding, the presence of sometlhingy which could make me feel warm, safe, satisfied, and happy —something of which I was a part, a lesser portion - without which I would be M1Y FIRST MEMORIES. 43 cold, hungry, thirsty, and miserable. But, strange as it may appear, it is true nevertheless, that I could not or did not form the least conception of the objective appearance of that indefinite sometlling which I called "Mother, " and which I fully realized to be somehow related to my safety and existence. This fact I now regard as being rich in value to all metaphysicians. I think no little boy ever cried, " Iother!" longer or louder than did I. A host of indescribable terrors crept through my mind. The tall trees were swaying to and fro by means of a force or agency which, I had a vague idea, possessed the attribute of motion. "Will it hurt me?" was my instant query. Away down yonder, looking into the forest, I saw darkness. " Do bugaboos live there?" I thought; and, louder and quicker yet, I called fobr the warmth, protection, and sympathy, of my mother. As I cried, there came from among the trees behind me a familiar voice, singing a semi-unmeaning song, which was then- very conmmon in the plebeian homes about us. I listened:"This poor man came in from his plough, Dando, dando! This poor man came in from his plough, Clam an' a clish and a cling go! This poor man came in fiom his plough, And asked his wife,' Is breakfast ready now V' Sing, clam blarurn glcre arum, And a cling go!" Mly infant mind readily caught the song as my blessed mother sung it-for I knew as by instinct that she it was whose voice I heard-and I feel justified in recording the eccentric words, as a tribute to the first fimpression which her spirit made upon the memory of mine. iMy loneliness, as might be imagined, was quickly dissipated; for, with her arms full of brush, to make the fire burn for supper, up she came; and, cheerfully bidding me to follow her, we entered the house, wherein my father sat, making shoes. This was the first of my memory thereof; and also of my sisters, as they invited me to go out and play with them. 44 THE MAGIC STAFF. On comparing my primary reminiscence (in awaking thus suddenly to a consciousness of a world without) with that of others, I find very few, if any, whose mental history reports a similar circumstance. Still, I do not doubt but there are many who, if they could but distinctly recall the time and place when memory began first to gather impressions from the outward world, might corroborate my experience and bear me company. Mlost people marvel and look skeptical when I declare and describe this initial event of my own biography; and this plainly enough assures me that I am not reporting an experience which is regarded as common to my fellow-men. Can I cause my doubting fiiend to comprehend the fact? I will make the attempt. 1During infancy, the inmost spirit of man is slumbering in the cerebral substance, like an ungerminated seed in the earth's bosom. The child-brain is not yet impregnated with the immortal principle. The'seed of the future being lies embedded therein. As with germs in the soil, so it is with the gradual growth and upspringing expansion of the mental energies. As a sequence of this progressive germination of the mental seed, from its enveloping womb which is situated in the centre of the brain, the outer fibres of the different organs, for the first few months of existence, do not receive the indwelling spirit, without which reflection and mzemory are quite-impossible. According to this philosophy, you perceive that the spiritual forces expand from the central germ, till they fill, and thrill, and saturate with appropriate energies, the myriadc minilte'vessels and nerves which, together with the cerebral embroidery, constitute what in these days are termed phrenological organs. It is owing to the absence of the spiritual forces -to a defective circulation of the imperishable principle through the fine extremities of these organs — that some persons complain of an incapacity to reflect and reason, easily; and yet more especially do such deplore the ufaitl/fulness of their menzory, even when the records of that organ are most in requisition. On the foregoing theory, it is plain to be seen that, should a person pos - MY FIRST 3MEMORIES. 45 sess a spiritual nature of slow growth, united to a temperament which is nowise untrue, but definite and positive alike in the rejection as in the reception of impressions (as mine is), it follows that the period preceding the taking on of a memory might be lengthened out many months beyond the time commonly supposed; and that when the awakening at length comes, so vivid an impression might be made as that no subsequent events could ever obliterate it. I know it is hard to remember exactly when you began to memorize common impressions; but could each one do so, I think all would be amply satisfied with the above explanation of my individual experience. TIE.BMAGIC STAFF. CIIAPTER VI. MIY FIRST TEMPTATION. LEAVING philosophy to other volumes, I proceed with my record. The occupation in which I saw my father engaged, day after day, considerably excited my curiosity. It was so funny to see him cut both soft and hard leathery substances into different forms and sizes; and still more, to watch him as he wet them, and hammered them, and fixed them firmly, with cunning little nails, on a piece of wood, fashioned after a big foot; and next to notice the diligence and regularity with which he made holes, with a sharp pointed instrument; and then to witness the quick, unerring exchange of bristles by which he pulled a waxed thread in opposite directions; and, finally, to look at the veins suddenly swelling on his forehead, and to hear his invariable and characteristic " Ugh!" as with a long, strong pull (which concluded in a jerk), he seemed to satisfy his mind that the thing was done for good. There appeared to be an amusement in all this, in which I longed to participate. But the fun of it began rapidly to disappear one morning when I caught the impression that-from some cause which I did not comprehend-my father felt compelled to keep doing so, even while he wished to be absent from home. fMy sister Eliza had the charge and direction of me most of the time; that is, I found that I was forced to obey whenever alone with her,. and this frequently happened. On one occasion, she 1mY FPIRST TEMPTATION. 47 oi'dered me in a whisper to go into a sort of cellar, which was built in the side of a small hill just in the edge of the woods, and bring her my apron full of apples, which I would find there. Like children in general, I was fond of such fiuit, and so proposed to go and bring them immediately.' Do n't tell nobody I sent you," said she, in a quick undortone; " I'll knock the daylights out of you if you do!" IHearing this terrible threat, coupled with the injunction of secrecy, I trembled with a strange apprehension. It seemed to me that I was about to do something which I should not do. This seeming was entirely new; that is, I did not recollect ever doing any such thing before. And yet, I would presume to write myself as being neither more nor less prone to good deeds than many other boys. But here was an innocent moment when I felt halftempted and half-forced to commit an undefinable evil act. Thus confused and agitated, I asked" Ain't them apples yourn?" "' No, you little goose, you!" she snappishly replied, " them's John MIyers's apples; so mind, don't let him see you go nor come." "I guess I can't go at all," said I, attempting to run by her, into the house; "I'm so afraid he'll see me." " No you do n't nuther 1" exclaimed she angrily, as she caught me and turned my face toward the cellar, with a whirling force that made me feel and fear her physical superiority; "now you go, as I tell you, or I'11 pound you -see if I do n't 1" Children, I think, are all natural democrats. Moral obligations, fine distinctions,, or rules of right and wrong, are without influence on very young mlinds. Thus, not quite understanding what wrong there could be in going for what I wanted -nor yet perceiving what moral difference there existed between apples in our cellar under the house and apples in John MIyers's cellar under the hill. off I started, pushed open the unlocked door, -and filled my apron with that fruit which tempted the fabled Eve. 48 THE MAGIC STAFF. Returning with more apples than I could keep from rolling out of'my uplifted garments, I had the fresh fright of beholding their owner looking right at me fromn'the road. What to do I did not know; but, though the fruit dropped at every step, I kept running to get home. The owner hailed me; but't was no use. Fleeter lind faster still I bounded over the rough ground, until I reached the house. Forgetting all my sister's threats of punishment, I sprang toward my mother, buried my face in her lap, and wept at the top of my voice a full confession! She heard me through, told me to dry my eyes, and never to do so again; and then, to my great satisfaction, she went out to " settle" with Eliza for sending me on such a wicked errand. What happenc;,d to nay sister, during that settlement, I will not pause to chronicle; but, instead, will enter my solemn protest against any similar temptation being placed before the human spirit. For, although at the time, it seemed like a harmless and playful enterpiise, yet there was a poison lurking beneath, which, had I fully imbibed it, might have debilitated my moral organism through every subsequent year. MIy mother, being fond of solitude, often sought gratification by rambling in the wild, woody environments. One day, toward evening, we all remarked 1" how long a time" she had been absent; but consoled one another with the saying, " She'11 be back before sundown." At length, however, the beautiful sun rolled down behind the dense forest, touching as it went the loftiest and the fairest leaves with hues inimitable. But where was the lone woman? The mystical drapery of night fell round about the world; the cheer and chirp of daylight creatures were no longer heard; and as we children stood tremblingly on the edge of the dark distance, we fancied that we did hear a sound of wailing coming fioro the woods, blending with the sad, low moan of the grandlyswaying wilderness. Every moment became more and more painful. We looked and called, and called and looked, till choked and blinded with fright and tears. " Mother's lost!" I cried, and rUn to get father out in search.'Twas quickly done. He did MY FIRST TEMPTATION. 49 not fear the darkness, neither the spirit of night in the forest, but went boldly into it. Anon, in the midst of our listenings, we heard the sound of voices; and, ere we fully recognised them, our parents stood before us! The pleasure of that meeting was the first positive joy recorded in the life-book of my memory. Our family did not sojourn long in this isolated tenement. My father returned one night, and said: " Well, I've found another hut; so, let's be off this week." To this sudden proposal my mother complainingly demurred; and then I witnessed, for the first time in the life of my memory, a prolonged, loquacious struggle between them-the effect of which still lingers, as the most shocking impression -ever made upon my infantile mind. Well enough do I remember, after getting under the clothes in the trundle-bed that night, of thinking thus: "I wonder whether the Big Good Man up in the sky seen that! If he did, what does he think about it?" While meditating thus, I was seized with a strange terror; and, as the most natural thing, I screamed "Mother!" with all my vocal power. " What is the matter, Jackson?" she quickly and kindly asked. "I do n't know," I cried; " I'm'fraid to go to sleep. D' you think I'll wake up again, if I go to sleep r' "0 yes, my son - nothing'11 hurt you." And so I tried to believe. But'twas impossible. What troubled me I knew not, except a terrifying apprehensiveness that I should not open my eyes again if I slept, and the dreaded loneliness of an endless sleep. It reminded me of what I felt when our mother was lost in the forest. Therefore I begged to get in bed with my parents, for there only could I feel safe in slumber. "Don't humor that boy so!" said my father sternly;'tain't nothin' but worms ailin' him." Now, though a very little child, I felt that I knew better; and so, for the first time, I found my mind rejecting my own father's judgment. Here was individual sovereignty in a trundle-bed. But this unexpected development of an opinion, in positive oppo3 50 THE MAGIC STAFF. sition to my worthy and venerable progenitor, served only to add more strength to my indescribable terror. Having no knowledge of words wherewith to dispute my father's worm-theory, I cried and continued to cry, until, perhaps to get rid of me, I was taken by mutual consent into the protective embrace of the sympathizing mother-wherein, feeling a blissful security out of harm's way, I soon forgot all trouble in a slumber too sound for dreams. On reflection, I have since concluded that my awakening spirit, young and untutored as it was, had receiv ). on this occasion some vaguely intuitive conception of Deity and Death. An idea of the "Big Good Mana" had never been imparted to me by any person that I could remember; neither had I ever witnessed such a shocking event as "going to sleep and not waking again," which formed the groundwork of my childish apprehensions. Therefore I put this down as an interesting psychological fact, impairing the doctrine that denies to the' soul an innate organic knowledge of corresponding outward realities. A CHANGE OF SCENE. 5 CHAPTER VII. A CIHANGE OF SCENE. "He lived not in himself, but did become Portion of that around him.' PATERNAL authority being greatly in the ascendant, our family sorrowfully bundled together the housekeeping material; and two days subsequent to my father's announcement, we were once more on our way to a strange habitation. Walking and riding by turns, on a rather hard and lonely road which led through a large tract of woodland, we at length reached another isolated tenement, of extremely limited dimensions. It was situated in the same town, Staatsburg, not far from Rhinebeck, on the farm of a good-natured Dutchman by the name of Bart Cropsey, whose years were rolling him down the afternoon of rudimental existence,. South of this incommodious dwelling you could see the fields and distant farmhouse of the nearest neighbor; while on the north there was next to no prospect whatever; only an indistinct wagon track (a cheering sign that human beings had been there before us) leading far away around a hilly, stony section of the old man's real estate. Toward the east, and but a few rods from our door, there was, as nearly as I can remember, a chain of irregular acclivities. These were overlaid with a coating of soil too sterile to yield anything abundantly, save tons of gravel and countless splinters from the slate strata above. Looking westward the eye would very naturally and pleasurably rest upon a swift? 62 jTHE MAGIC STAFF. running stream, that skirted the timber-land just beyond it, and which continued its musical pilgrimage downward through the verdant fields that made our southern prospect almost beautiful. When arrived, there transpired a succession of those hurly-burly events so common at such movings. Everything to do, and nobody ready to do it; yet each busy doing something with all available strength and speed. The house was divided into two compartments-had what an extravagant imagination might term,." a reception room," and "an attic chamber." The first was as extensive as the walls of the foundation, and occupied all the lower story; while the second, accessible only by climbing up a flight of rickety stairs, had remained without lath and plaster, or other finishings, from the first day of its erection. But the half-weaver and half-shoemaker indicated no sorrow of heart. His hand was quick to get the bedstead corded up, the straw ticking on, the washtub (with a few tea things and crockery wares in it) pushed into the old cupboard which was already occupied by such natives as rats, mice, and spiders. The children were not less industrious. They helped to unload the wagon, and prepare the reception room for the best arrangement of our limited stock.:But my mother looked sad and weary. Her eye was filled with an expression of insight. There was a something of distance in the air of abstraction which pervaded her. I record this fact, because, although she may have appeared thus interior a thousand times before, this is the first time when my attention became arrested and fixed by it. Her mind seemed far from the immediate scene. Nothing of importance transpired worth recording for several weeks. MIy father worked diligently on the shoe-bench every day; and, excepting sundry frettings and fault-findings, all went on very well. One day I overheard some suppressed conversation, from which I gathered that my sister Eliza might get married. What that meant I could form no idea; it was something, I noticed, which A CHANGE OF SCENE. 53 mother did not like. I ventured to ask the reason, but was told by father to "mind my business," or he'd " take the strap to me i" But my mind would work. I was not long concluding that getting "married" meant going from home to live with a stranger. So believing, I thought that mother was right and father was wrong-because she complained and objected to the marriage, while father objected to her complainings and useless interference. And now I began to be reminded of something I witnessed while we lived in John Myers' tenement. More than once I had remarked a strange young man who came through the woods to our house, and laughed and talked with Eliza just as if they had always been acquainted. And I remembered, also, how they made molasses candy and sugar, once, from maple sap; and gave me some if I would run away with Julia Ann and play. My sympathies were with my mother on this subject. And, therefore, though but four years old, and habited in a short woollen frock, I coaxed her out doors, beyond my father's hearing, to ask these questions: "M3{other, will I ever be as big as father? Then you won't let me be married —will you?" If my memory serves me right she returned me no answer; but went into the house with more merriment and laughter than I had ever heard from her on any previous occasion. This conduct had the effect to leave me void of satisfaction. "'how curious," thought I, "to weep at Eliza's marriage and then laugh at mine!" But the sight of a stranger coming through the twilight of the evening, dissipated my thinking, and made me once more a portion of that around Me. -5 4FTHE MASGIC STAFF. CHAPTE R VIII. THE I)UTCMI31AN S GIIOST. AT this time my mind began to take an interest in the varied changes and hues of human faces. As yet but few persons had made a place for themselves in my memory. Before this dante I do not recollect seeing more than four individuals, besides our family triangle. I do not say "family circle" because, for the most part, my parents were stationed at opposite points, while the children (my eldest sister, Eliza, more especially) stood, as by a logical necessity, at the third point; thus forming, by a kind of spontaneous'geometry, a complete three-cornered family alliance; out of which a circle was never more than foreshadowed and indicated as a bare possibility, in certain hours of domestic spheroidal communion. The existence of this condition could not fail to impress me painfully. M3y infant tongue was, perhaps, never moved with words of rebuke which I thought were many times deserved; but this can not be recorded of my mouth; for, whenever I thought that mother was troubled by father's moods, I could not restrain a propensity to cry loudly and lustily, and thus restore them to comparative unity by means of my counter-irritation. Uncle Bart Cropsey's hired man seemed very fond of visiting at our house. Through the deepening twilight we frequently saw him coming down the indistinct wagon-track toward our habitation. But he made his visits too early and late, as well as too frequent, THE DUTCHMAN'S GHOST. 55 to please even the generous Dutchman. Therefore, after numerous remonstrances, " Dave" (as he was called) made up his mind to go home earlier. But what he termed ",earlier" was to me very late indeed. Often and often I strained my eyes to keep awake during his stay, but sleep would steal over me at length, and the next morning's sun would sometimes shine ere the deep slumber of childhood was again broken. It will be remembered that our " reception room" contained our kitchen, our bedchamber, our shoemaker's shop, &c., &c.; and'twas for this reason that, whenever visitors were there, it became a rather delicate matter for any member of the family to undress and retire for the night. Hence we all rejoiced, when Uncle Bart entered his positive protest against Dave's long nocturnal visitations. But our joy was ere lone greatly diminished, by his apparent forgetfulness of the old man's injunction. Indeed, in a few days his visits commenced as early and terminated as late as ever. One black and dreary night which I well remember, the journeyman-farmer left us later than usual. The autumnal wind whistled round about the old house, "and music made of melancholy sort." There was a moon in the sky, but'twas almost totally obscured by the threatening clouds. If there had been shutters on our windows, swinging and slamming on their rusty hlingos, it would, without doubt, have augmented yet more the doleful melody of the storm and darkness. "Ain't you afraid to go home, Dave?" asked my father. " No, not I!" he courageously returned; " I've walked through the woods in more'n one dark night! So, good-night, all!" "There! he's gone at last," said Eliza; " now, let's go to bed." The motion was seconded by all hands, and, in a few minutes, we were all under cover, except father who, as he said, had " a shoe to finish." We were just on the verge of sleep when there came a loud knocking on the outside of the window, accompanied with — "Hallo! hallo! I say, 3Mr. Davis, come out quick!" The only light in the room was made by the wick of father's b6 THE MAGIC STAFF. exhausted tallow candle, flickering on a stick's end before him; but which, owing to a false move of his hand, was immediately extinguished, leaving the panic-struck family in poor plight to render assistance. Nothing daunted, however, father opened the outer door, and demandedcl:"What's the matter?" There stood poor Dave quaking and trembling with fright, scarcely able to utter a sentence, but presently he stammered out:-' I've seen a thundering spook -or- a-msomething white!" "' Where d' you see it?" "' By the big oak tree, up in the corner of the woods, where the little slab bridge is!" "What does it look like?" "Like a thundering great man, dressed in grave-clothes'! Can't you go with me till I get past the thulndering thing, Mr. Davis?"'W ell, I'll see," said -father. "Let's hunt up a lantern. I:.-ess we've got one." While father was preparing to go with Dave, we all declared that we couldn't and wouldn't stay alone; and acting under the speed of friigllt, the four of us (mother, Eliza, Julia Ann, and myself) got quickly dressed and ready to turn out in the gloomy darkness. It was all alarmingly new to me. I had not heard of a "thunderingc spook" before, and felt no little curiosity to see one. Perhaps I was also very much frightened; if so,'twas more than balanced by the novelty of the object about to be seen; and hence, keeping tight hold of my mother's hand, on T trotted "in the footsteps of our illustrious predecessors," father and the farmer. "What's a spook, mother?" I pantingly asked while running rapidly by her side. " Oh,'tain't nothin' to hurt us," she replied, "'tis somethin' that means somethin', if one knows how to take it right." Not satisfied with this explanation, I inquired:-'" How does it look?" ".Hush —hark- keep still —hold yer tongue —can't you," THE DUTCHtIAN'S GHOST. 57 vociferated Eliza; " a body can't hear nothin' for your everlastin' clackin'." But lowering my voice, I continued to interrogate: "M ]other, what did Dave mean by a thundering spook?" "Oh, never mind. Dave's a wicked man. I'"l tell you totlmorrow." By this time, as the slackened pace of the vanguard indicated, our party had nearly reached the point of interest. Father made a voluntary declaration of skepticism and heroic fearlessness. Whereupon Dave, being inspired with fresh courage, drew up a verbal resolution to the effect, that "he wouldn't run now, even if left alone. Did n't care for the' thundering thing' when he first got a glimpse of it. Camne back after us merely out of good nature, to have some fun." And, so declaring, the ploughman struck up a bold, courageous, don't-care-ative whistle; which, to tell thle truth, made but very little impression on the rude blasts of wind that came roaring through the woods in the direction of the open country. But as if'twere designed, at this frightful and momentous crisis, out popped the great, round-faced moon from behind its cloudy curtain; and, wonderful to behold! just by the dilapidated bridge, right against the greA oak-tree, there stood, towering up in the darkness, a monstrous form —enveloped in a snow-white sheet, with a hat on its head, and its apparent arms flying and flapping frantically in the howling tempest. " Good gracious!" exclaimed Dave-" D' you see that?" As he said this, lie stepped back so quick against us, that three fourths of our party were thrown violently to the ground. This accident took immediate effect, in giving each the terrible impress sion of having been struck by the ghostly monster; and, accelerated by the motive force of this horrid thought, our mutual retreat resembled the flight of John Gilpin. As fbr me, I must confess that my opinion was expressed by an unbroken yell of agonizing fear, poetically termed " weeping," which added not a little to the 58 THE MAGIC STAFF. awful condition of the fleeing quartette, headed by the more than ever affrighted Dave. "Stop I Hold on i" cried father, who was just in our rear — "What you running away for? Come back! Let's ask the spook what it wants there." Obediently we halted. The elder heads planned a battle, anid then all cautiously returned. When within hailing distance, my father shouted: " Eallo, there.-what's wanted?" We were silent a moment, which seemed a great while, but no answer came. H6 Iallo, I say! Who are you? What d'you want?" Autumnal blasts, full of strange sounds, gave back the only response. Father's cCJ1ndle, too, was nearly out in his lantern; and the fitful moon kept up a constant dodging in and out of the heavy folds of the storm-lking's drapery. Hence our prospect was fast becoming very dark and doubtful. But my father's intrepid conduct, on this occasion, inspired me with a particular respect for him. "Poh! nonsense! If you don't answer me I'll knock your brains out with this'ere stone," said he impatiently, picking up a big pebble. And sure enougl! To our great consternation, away flew his missile, and down came the ghostly hat! Obeying orders we didn't "budge a yard;" but witnessed, with rapidly increasing courage, the, bombardment and demolition of the White Spook. And I believe the reader's disappointment will not be more provoking than was ours, when I record that some mischievous individual, knowing that Dave frequented our house and returned that way late every night, had wrapped up a bundle of straw in an old sheet, with Uncle Bart Cropsey's broad-brimmed hat tc indicate where a head'might have been. Our party returned home in fine spirits, and slept undisturbed the remainder of the night.'Tis my belief that the experience and discovery of that memorable hour has had an unmistakably THE DUTCHMAN'S GHOST. b wholesome effect upon my organ of marvellousness, which is said, by phrenologists, to exert only a very moderate and secondary influence on my mental organization. Methinks Providence could not have better prepared my mind for investigating and discriminating between genuine spiritual personages and fallacious apparitions than by this midnight encounter with the phantom-man of straw. "Thus, when I am all alone, Dreaming o'er the past and gone, All around me, sad and slow, Come the Ghosts of Long Ag,."9 TUE MAGIC STAFF. CtHAPTER IX. IN WHICII I MAKE MORE DISCOVLYLIES. IN due course of time there was established something like a family circle of harmony concerning the impending marriage of my eldest sister; the result of which was, a cheerful preparation of sundry sandwiches, cracked walnuts, and a few small pies, the crust being shortened, or more properly lengthened and toughened, with what father called "white-oak splits." I looked upon the whole proceeding with a curiosity common to children. I helped place the wooden chairs in a row on either side of our 1"receptionroom," and wondered where all the people would come from to occupy them. At length the neighbors one by one arrived, and the seats, including father's shoe-bench and the two beds, were literally covered with visitors. I was too much astonished and intimidated to speakl or cry; and so, having acquired the habit, I yielded to it — that is, as often defined by father, I " clung to my m.thei's apronstring," and wouldn't let go-but followed her o-7; doors after wood and water, down cellar after the molasses-jug, up stairs after a pair of newly-darned stockings; and thus, round and round the ten-by-twelve tenement, I pursued her, as if to re]irrijzh my hold was to be hopelessly wrecked and cast away amec r utter strangers! One of the women brought with her a li tle gWh, who attracted my attention, because hers was the first human form I had ever seen more diminutive than my own. She wore frocks, and so did I- a fact which my mind regarded as being very curious. I MAKE 1MOrE DISCOVERIES. 61 Presently a well-dressed man entered, who acted as if he knew everything. As lie advanced, the people got off the beds, and, together with the others there, stood up without speaking. M3y sister came down the rickety stairway from the attic chamber aforesaid, all dressed and beautified as I had never seen her previously. Then up stepped the young man, with whom I was now well acquainted, who, taking Eliza's hand, stood with her in a most solemn mood directly before the man who seemed to know everything as well as the name of it. He opened his mouth, and spoke some of the longest, hardest, biggest, strangest words I had ever heard. Whereupon my mother began to weep; then my sister wept; then Julia Ann cried outright; and last, as well as least, I brought up the rear with a regular burst of uncontrollable lamentation. What I was crying about I did not know; but mother cried, and that was enough. However, the wedding was soon ended, the sandwiches were quickly consumed, the walnutshells delivered up their meats, and father's bottle of strong drink was passed from one man's mouth to another; when the company began to depart, each wishing our folks " long life and much joy." The impression of that event was very unpleasant. It exerted a sad influence upon me, like that of sicknless, or fault-finding; which made me importune my mother, over and over again, never to let me get married. Weeks hurnied by, and ere long we stood on the margin of another year..The curtain that hung between our house and the world-which folded in obscurity the private afflictions of our family-I will not roll up. That which concerned my psychological progress is alone relevant in this autobiography. Hence, I pass on to the advent of Santa Claus! Hearing of his name and near approach- that he brought good gifts for good children-that no one could see him as he crept down the, chimney, and filled suspended stockings with sweet treasures —I resolved to be very good (that is, not cry or follow 62 THE MAGIC STAFF. mother), and then see what would come as my compensation.'Twas the last day of bleak December, when mother said:"' Come, Jackson-you run out and draw your sled about, and play till I call you." "' What for, mother?" " Oh,'cause I want you to go." "Sha'n't I get froze in the snow?" " No, no —you go, now —I'11 call when I want you." Now, this was so new —asking me to do what she had frequently prevented me from doing without any reason as I sometines thought —that -it excited my imagination. Hence I persisted in questioning her:"W Yhat for, mother-what for?" "Oh, never mind; go, as I tell you: and when I call, you shall leave a warm cookie." " Why, mother — what for? Mrother — say, tell me, won't you?" But father, hearing me teaze the already half-overcome woman, rapidly described a semicircle on his shoe-bench, and sternly said: "Don't humor that boy so! Make him mind, or crack his head! — Jackson, you sir! do as your mother bids, or I 11 take the strap to you, quicker!" Of late years the American world has heard something of what Albert Brisbane calls "attractive industry," in contradistinction to painful and unrequited toil as suffered by the masses; but I venture to say that no embryo man (between four and five years of age) ever more realized the beauty of " attractive playing," and the distressing constraint of repulsive amusement, than I did immediately on the conclusion of my father's great speech on that occasion. Amusement, when disagreeable, is repulsive labor; as labor, when adapted to one's genius, is attractive amusement. But at this moment, delay was dangerous to my personal Welfare; the paternal weapon lay curled up by the lapstone and hammer; and thus, victimized and dejected, forth I went to ride down hill on ice and snow. I MAKE MORE DISCOVERIES. 63 Up the eastern acclivity I drew my sled. But instead of coastin,, I concerned myself with fishing for the reasons of the maternal anxiety to get me out doors. "Could Santa Claus have asked them to send me out?" soliloquized I; " and who is he?" Glimmerings of the possibility of the existence of such a being seemed to flicker and twinkle on thle horizon of my awakening intellect. And yet, the attribute of his;invisibility- of his power to descend the chimney, and put palpable things in my stocking, without exposing himself to mortal vision- this was a statement very hard for me fully to believe, although it came from my worthy, loving, revered mother, and challenged my confidence. "She's so big, and so old, too," thought I, "why, of course she knows." And straightway I believed all I had been told concerning the invisible friend of good children. "But," methought, "how strange that a being so pure should get into and sshuffle down a dirty, sooty chirnney to the very fireplace, amid the eJmbers and ashes there!" Still thinking to myself, I said: " Good Santa Claus must go very fast, and that's why no one can see him." Whereupon I made several snowballs, and hurled them into the air with all my force, to experiment upon rendering objects invisible by the swiftness of their flight. But I obtained very little satisfaction from this exertion; and so, resolving to sleep that night with one eye wide open, I tried to amuse myself paradoxically-that is, by tugging and laboring to gain the hill-top, in order to purchase the shortlived pleasure of sliding and tumbling head over heels into tho snowbank below. At length the married Eliza called, and said I might come in and warm myself. Accordingly, I went in, but saw nothing unusual, except a few fresh-cooked doughnuts; from which I received some reward for remaining out so long, agreeably to maternal request and,paternal command. Night hastened on; and how glad was I to get into the trundlebed! Next morning, early as I might awake, I was destined to find presents in my stocking! 3Mother hung a pair of clean hose p4 THE MAGIC STAFF. against the sooty jam, just at the end of the great back-log; all of which proceeding I witnessed by her permission. " Now, Jackson, be a good boy, and go to sleep," said she soothingly, " and you'll see what'll come of it." Doubtless, like most juveniles under corresponding cilrcumstances, I was remarkably obliging, and got straight into bed. Once or twice previous to her retiring, my eye met hers peering under the corner of the blanket, evidently to see if I had my lashes closed in sleep. This had the effect to make slumber still more difficult. Steadily, through a hollow fold in the bedquilt, I fixed one eye on a right line with the suspended stockings, and looked, with no ordinary anxiety, till our folks all found their pillows for the night. Presently I heard each inmate breathing heavily as in sound repose, save my mother, who, after a while, crept stealthily from her bed to the cupboard, thence to the pendent hose; and then, through the moonlight in the room. I saw her put something in each stocking, and hasten back to her resting-place over mine. It was perhaps an hour subsequent to this scene ere I managed to obtain sleep. When "N ature's sweet restorer" at length came over me, I dreamed that Santa Claus, dressed in a suit of black, ournd his way down our chimney, with his every pocket filled with beautiful giftso And in my dream I thought I got up, took hold of his outermost gown, pulled it off, and lo! there stood my mother, smiling benevolently, through one of her most winning and tender expressions. " Happy New Year!" shouted Julia Ann, so close to my ear, that I started, fully awake, and sprang after the woollen receptacles which still hung against the chimney-corner. Filled to the very top' Santa Claus had not forgotten me! And I hastened back between the warm sheets to discover what was given. Out came a small roll of candy; out came four doughnuts, tasting just like those of the previous day, only shaped and fashioned after an old man, a cat, a cow, and a little boy; out came three butternuta I MAKE MORE DISCOVERIES. 65 six chestnuts, and a very big potato; and, to conclude, out came father's shoe-strap -the veritable stirrup of this industrious disci pie of St. Crispin — a gentle admonition from Santa Claus that I "must mind my Ps and Qs." Vibrating between faith and doubt, and tasting alternately of both fear and joy; I hopped up, and, for the first time, got into a pair of undeveloped pantaloons. "Ml\other, did n't you put them things in my stockings?" I asked, looking directly into her eyes. MIy dream was realized at once. A benevolent smile pervaded her countenance, as she answered"Yes, Jackson, I put in everything but the potato and strap." This confession was quite satisfactory, and I felt that I loved her for giving me so much pleasure. But, deeper than the joy of that New-Year's day, there was made upon my mind an impression of incorrigible skepticism. Nothing could have been more pertinent and salutary. Simple as that event was, it tended greatly to strengthen my already awakened proclivity to rigid investigation. A vigilant incredulity regarding the existence of invisible personages was, by this human solution of the mysterious Santa Claus, made very easy of subsequent development. G6) t ~THE MAGIC STAFF CHIAP TER X. OTHER SCENES IN TIIlS DRAMA. ONE day I overheard some conversation between my mother and an aged woman, who had called to make a visit, concerning the premonitory signs of death in a neighborhood. " IH-ow cur'us it is," said mother, " that a body what's born with a veil over their face can tell sich things! There's my Jackson -he was born with a veil over his face: may be he'll be one o that'are sort." "Du tell!" exclaimed the nervous, excitable listener; "is that so? Why, I want to know!" "_ Yes l" replied mother, with a deep sigh, and almost stifled with a sudden gush of painful emotion. "Yes-I remember well," she continued; 1" and when I looked at the baby, with the veil over his hull face, then ses I to myrself, ses I,'He's born to see trouble, or - somethin' else — I do n't know what!'" But, returning to the subject of seeing signs of death in rural districts, mother related, by way of illustration, how, on a certain moonlight evening years before, she beheld a man solemnly walking, with his arms folded across his breast, as if meditating on a theme of the saddest and gravest import. "Who was he?" interrupted the'old lady. "Ah! that's what I can't say," returned my mother. "But I tried to find out. I went to the winder fust; and then, as he app'ared 1l'ke near, I opened the front door quick, to ask him to OTHER SCENES IN THIS DRAMA. 67 come in. Not a single soul did I see there! Well, I thought'twas queer'nough; and so'twas. But next night, same time, I seen the same person ag'in, a-walkin' sad like, jest a, he did afore:'and now,' thinks me,'I knows who't is.' But I didn't, after all." "Du tell I" exclaimed the visitor. "You could n't say, ebl, who'twas there, walkin' so?" "No, I couldn't. But I know'd that it meant a death in our neighborhood. And so it proved. For, a few days afterwards,'Squire, who loved to smell the snuff of a taller-candle so much, died very sudden with consumption." "Why, I want to know!" ejaculated the amazed woman; "a du tell, now! Was'it true that he liked the smell of candle-smoke?" " Yes, he did," replied mother; " and, what's more, I've allus noticed that short-lived folks allus liked the candle-snuff as a somlethin' to breathe." That night was rife with trouble for me. When my industrious feather planted his stick on the floor, surmounted with a candle, I seated myself close by, to ascertain whether I had any fondness for such an odor. Horrible! I did love, as I supposed, to smell the feathery vapor that went curling up from the burning wick!'Twas enough! Althoughl the evening had but just dawned, I asked permission to retire, because I was afraid I might get sick if I remained up as long as usual. The favor being granted, I went to bed with tears trembling on my eyelids. Mliy thoughts dwelt on going to sleep and awaking not again. How insupportable! Overcome at last with sheer fiight I cried outright, and begged mother to tell me "Do I like to smell candle-wick? Say, mother, say —do I like to smell the snuff of it? Will I die, mother if I do? Say, will I die?" Father caught the burden of my lamentation, and laughed loud enough to drown the sound of my voice. But this method of consoling me did neither allay my fears nor reduce the strength of 68 THE MAGIC STAFF. my mental weakness; and I persisted in soliciting aid and1 instrue. tion from mother. She gave me rest, but no satisfaction; and I could not get ever the fear of immediate death for many days afterward. In the meantime my father would alternate between threats to use his strap upon me, and the assertion that I was " troubled with worms," and should take "a teaspoonful of brimstone and molasses every morning." The reader will now hasten with me over the uninteresting details of many weeks, and halt to consider another item of more vital importance. Poverty, with its hideous train, dwelt in our habitation. I do not mean that vice and crime were with us, as the usual sequences of poverty; but that sickness, and depression, and scoldings, and frettings, and humiliations of many kinds, were constant visitors at our home. Oft and again I have seen my mother busy baking the last handful of Indian meal in our possession — without meat, or potatoes, or the flour of other grains -and, wonderingly, I have heard her ask my father where and when he would get more provender to keep the family from starvation. Sometimes I would inquire if everybody, in all houses, had the same trouble to get food and raiment. To such questionings my father would impatiently and sternly reply:"No, hang it! the poor man gets poorer, and the rich man richer: that's the way with the world." Thus conditioned were we, when one chilly spring day receded on her purple car, spreading a mystic twilight wide o'er hill and plain, and ushered in the star-gemmed night which, like a royal pall, was thrown upon the bosom of the still Earth. Of course, these natural beauties and changes I did not in my childhood perceive. But, instead, I saw tears, sorrowings, and many anxious looks. We had no food! Neither had we been feasting recently. But, having lived poorly for days, each felt that intensely fearful desire to eat which only the really famishing can ever fully colm OTHER SCENES IN THIS DRAMA. 69 prebend. My mother said she believed that "Providence would provide for us." "Well, I believe so too," returned the half-weaver- and halfshoemaker, but wholly honest man, as he whacked a piece of soleleather for the reparation of a neighbor's boot; "but," he continuted, "it seems to me that Providence always depends more upon us than we depend on Providence." "Why, how queer you talk i" said my mother, whose face now began to light up with hope as the morning brightens the face of Nature; and she added: "I don't think no harm will befall us jest yet; as old'Squire, who's now dead and gone, used to say:-'The Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care.'" Now, as the logical reader might easily imagine, all this serious conversation about "Providence," and being fed by a Lordly "Shepherd," seemed to me very much in keeping with the story of good old invisible Santa Claus, or like the great white spook made out of straw. And hence, though only in my fifth year, I could not help believing more in the providence and protection of my honored progenitors on whom I realized a sweet dependency. At this moment we were mutually attracted to the door by the sound of tramping horses and the rumbling of an approaching wagon. "What can bring anybody this way at such an hour?" exclaimed my father; "who can it be?" " I-allo, there!" shouted a voice from the wagon; "our folks wants to get Mrs. Davis to come and help do our washing tomorrow." "Who are you?" asked Eliza. 6Why, do n't you know? We're just from John Radcliffe's fishing-grounds —just going home with the team."'" Oh, goodness save us 1" said my mother hopefully; "let's get nome fish for supper. I know'd thrt Providence would provide." 70 THE MAGIC STAFF.. ".Yes! yes 1" said father; "let's ask for a shad, or a dozen herring. Eliza, go out to the wagon, and see what he's got."'T was no sooner said than done. Out she ran, followed by Julia Ann and myself, to get something for supper. But great indeed was our disappointment when the driver declared that every herring and every shad had been sent down t1he Hudson to New York; that he had n't anything aboard, save the nets and a few bunches of shad-eggs scattered here and there through the meshes. 3Mother said, "That'll do." But father exhibited considerable dissatisfaction, yet agreed that "shad-eggs would taste better than nothing;" while I did not realize any preference whatever. The difference in the quality of shad and shad-eggs was unknown to me. All I wanted was something to eat. And the family sharing in this feeling, the fire was forthwith kindled, and the providential eggs were soon snapping and cracking in the frying-pan. "What you got to eat with them?" inquired the inspirited cordwainer. "Nothing," replied my mother. "Nothing!" echoed he - "nothing! Why, what the dogs will be done? Who can eat shad-eggs and nothing else, I'd like to know?" But the fact was that there-could not be, found in that tenement a bit of bread of any description, nor any substance resembling a vegetable, except a few decayed turnips in the attic chamber — or, more strictly speaking, in the unfinished garret up the rickety stairway. Hence the marine provender had to be served up that night alone, without a second article of diet. Fortunately, we were not members -of any vegetarian society. On the contrary, each one was free to devour as many shoals of embryological shad as his or her appetite seemed to demand. Therefore we all ate, and thus satisfied, for a time, the painful longings of hunger. This time was brief. A thirst came on —a horrid, crazy, sickening thirst —whiclh water allayed but for a moment. OTHFlIt SCENES IN THIS DRAMA..' "There, I thought so!" groaned the impatient and again disheartened cordwainer. "Just as I thought. Fish will swim twice!" Hearing this, I hastened to my mother's side to ask what father meant by fish swimming twice; for, besides the thirst I felt, there were other unsatisfactory symptoms down my throat, which made me fear that the eggs were possibly hatched, and that little finny flukes might be sprawling and wiggling about inside! MIother explained, however, that fih usually make one drink after eating. Receiving this explanation, I felt mentally Quieted; but, gastronomically, the case was quite otherwise. Father got very sick, and disgorged freely; then Julia Ann's turn came, and out belched the most of her supper; whereupon Eliza, with ill-suppressed disappointment, projected her head andher last meal simultaneously out of the window; and then, to complete the shadowy trials of that memorable night, mother and I groaned and vomited, and vomited and groaned, till each particular egg was cast upon that solid foundation which, according to the oriental story, was so satisfactory to the ejected Jonah. Oh, the sickiness of that dreary night! Fatigued with the combined labor of supporting. hunger, and the more recent trial of expelling the so-called providential food, we each at last found nutrition in the depths of dreamless slumber. But the following morning brought healing in its wings; for, ere the family again awoke to a knowledge of their destitution, our father, now fully aroused from the apathy of despair, had procured meat and meal sufficient to ive us all a good and grateful brcakfast. TE MAGIC STAFF. CHAPTER XI. SUNSHINE AND CLOUDS. "Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more." ALCOHOL is an accursed tyrant! IHis ruthless tyranny is terrible. HIis victims strew the earth's bosom. Their groans rend the air. The stench of their corruption fills irnumerable homes with the seedlings of death! M1y organ of memory, though usually prompt in the performance of its functions, does not report the precise cause of our extreme indigence; but, starting from my knowledge of father's occasional intemperate habits, I infer that Rum played the lecading character on the boards of our domestic theatre. Nevcrfthcless, as I now view the scene backward through the gloomy vista, I seem gratefully to see the paternal hand plying the awl industriously for the laudable maintenance of our impoverished household. Hence, I have no disposition to cast the imputation of neglect, or of wilful unkindness, upon the being from whom, according to the laws of marriage and reproduction, I received, in part, the priceless boon of an eternal individuality of existence. The lowest plane of depression, in the affairs of our pantry and hearthstone, was reached at the close of the last chapter; therefore, the next turn of the wheel of fortune carried us higher in the scale of subsistence and external life. SUNSHINE AND CLOUDS. 3 Death is a phenomenon of the world; to which, as yet, I was almost a total stranger. Neither in man, nor beast, nor bird, had I seen the process. But by the advent of meat on our table, as well as by other comimon indications, my mind became, as I supposed, fiamiliarized with the fact that living creatures ceased to exist. I was mistaken as to the extent of my familiarity, however, as the following circumstance will clearly show:In order to frighten and banish the members of numerous nocturnal ratification meetings, that were held in different apartments of our isolated dwelling, our folks procured of some neighbor a fine purring kitten which in due time developed into ample categorical proportions; and, obedient to the design of its being, presented us, one fine morning, with almost' half a peck of very diminutive cats, sans eyes, but chuck full of interest to me. I busied myself supplying their supposed wants, by feeding the feline fountain with full saucers of skimmed milk, and thus made their growth a subject of daily concern. By inquiry, I came to k1now that nine days were required to mature their visual apparatus; and that then each individual kitten would open its own eyes, and take an interest in things external. For this event I patiently waited. But my father insisted upon a destruction of the whole cat family —alleging, as a sufficient reason, that "one set of hungry mouths was all he could manage to feed." And yet, notwithstanding the terrible threatenings and deeds of cruelty of which the cordwainer was ofttimes verbally guilty, he had not the hardness of heart to destroy that inoffensive cat's numerous children. This gave me confidence in father's real goodness; over which mother, Julia Ann, and I, made ourselves quite merry. As bad luck wbuld have it, hc wever, there came to our house a disagreeable looking old man, with overhanging brow, disfigured by shaggy locks of uncombed hair, a wide mcuth, and a voice like the growling of some angry animal. I was surprised when father hailed him as an old acquaintance. In the course of his stay, the 4 74 THE MAGIC STAFF. kittens were alluded to, and, much to my consternation, their immediate destruction was planned and agreed to; in pursuance whereof, the helpless, sightless, guiltless, and crying little creatures were seized by the merciless visitor; and, contrary to my wordless but pantomimic cntreaties, out he went with them (myself closely following), when, one by one, he whirled and twisted them by the neck and cast them unfeelingly away into the rushing stream! Vividly do I recall my horrible prejudice toward that man. In fact, that one circumstance was so shocking that it gave me my first fear of a fellow-being: and, as a sequence, a dread of meeting certain looking individuals has not even to this day passed entirely out of my mind. Horrid thoughts of death infested me for many days and nights succeeding this scene; but my mother's gentle hand and kindly tones soothed me at length, and thus prepared me for another event. Although I had frequently asked to go and play at neighbor Cookingham's house, which was located perhaps a mile south of ours, yet I was uniformly denied; till, near the close a warm spring day, mother said she wished me to go over there and stay with the juveniles all that night. This sudden change in my affairs and habits I could not comprehend. But obedient to the unaccountable, yet welcome dictate, away we peregrinated, trudging along through thick and thin, till the desired threshold was beneath our feet. When once within the strange and, to me, wonderful abode, the striped carpets and painted chairs, the brass andirons: on the hearth, the window curtains and beautiful bedquilts, the wheat bread and sweet butter —all made my visit a complete holiday. I was in a museum; and wondered why our house wasn't made just as attractive and comfortable. On the subsequent morning, after a good breakfast of what they termed spon and milk, I was led home; across the two saplings which formed a sort of temporary (short cut) foot-bridge, over the'rushing stream, between our house and the woods. Entering SUNSHINE AND CLOUDS. through the door-way, I noticed a change, that is, Eliza's bed was utterly hid by a canopy of old quilts. Next, I heard a groan behind the enclosure; but, ere my tongue forged a word, mother said: "Come in, Jackson — Eliza's got sick." Father's occupation was also changed. IIe was busy sawing a board into several pieces; which he soon nailed together, and formed a small box. In reply to my interrogatories he would authoritatively bid me to "stand out of his way, and not busy myself about what didn't concern me." But my curiosity was up, and I persisted in maintaining the position of " spectator." The box completed, it received a lining of brown paper; and then-what do you think?-why, father went behind the suspended quilts, brought out a very, very little baby which was motionless and cold in death, and then laid it down in the rough and ready coffin! Contrary to his emphatic remonstrances, I examined that human being in miniature; with what emotions I know not, save those of extreme simplistic won-:derment. Silently, I watched his every movement. Placing a cloth over the inanimate babe, down he pressed it; then nailed a thick cover on, and so closed out the world. ]With spade in hand, and the box under his arm, forth lie went into the southern potato patch — which, poetically speaking, was our garden- and, halting beneath an apple-tree, began digging a deep hole. On this initial occasion my father was undertaker, hearse, and sexton; while I, without appreciating the solemn fiact, mas at once the funeral train and the only mourner. The grave was dug, and got ready; in the shape of a big iron kettle. And then the sexton, still silent as myself, deposited the coffin, and returned the earth whence it came. Unspeaking yet, he went to the house with quicker step; and when I followed, I found him at his accustomed and more congenial employment. L'IE MAGIC STA_,W. CHAPTER XII. WHIIICII I ASK BIANY QUESTIONS.'( Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends; I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing To those that know me." AN important and novel region of human life was now partly exposed to my view; and true to the impulsions of the organ of causality, I could not help going for a thorough exploration. Accordingly on returning from the funeral, I ran straight to the maternal fountain for light and knowledge. "Where d'you get that'are baby, mother?" "Oh, don't bother me; I'm very busy now." And she hastened behind the quilt canopy, with a bowl of nourishment for Eliza. "What made Eliza get sick?" I asked as mother emerged from the concealment —" say, mother, say —what made her so sick?" There was, evidently, "other fish to fry" than answering my questions; for, though an expression of sadness filled her eyes, away she flew, here and there, doing all sorts of things with the greatest despatch; and so I had as mucl as I could do to keep up, and "get in a word edgewise" now and then. "Say, mother —won't you? Where did you get that'are baby?" After numerous evasions and prevarications, which served only to stimulate my already much-excited inquisitiveness, she replied; I ASK MANY QUESTIONS. 77 "Why, the doctor brought it?" "The doctor!" thought I. "Who's the doctor? I hain't seen no nothin' like a doctor!" But quickly gathering my recollection, I asked: "W.s taht'are man what know'd so much-what spoke sucl great, long, hard words when Eliza got married-was he the doctor?" "W Thy don't you crack that dummy's pate?" vociferated a voice from the hidden bed. "If I had hold of him, I'd shake his daylights out if he didn't stop! T'hat I would!" Although emanating from a weakened and prostrate individual, whose form was wholly obscured, yet I was not at a moment's loss to know who originateJ. the awful but characteristic threat. There was in that exclamation a somzethinzg so irritating and so self-evidently unnecessary as applied to me, that I felt nettled and combative; and hence, readily remembering Dave's big word when frightened by the ghost, I tartly returned: "I guess you hain't so thunderiLng sick as you make b'lieve." But contrary to my anticipation, if I had any, this emphatic retort greatly disturbed the equanimity of my mother. At the same time it had a marvellous effect on the muscular fibres of my father's right arm. His hand grasped the ever-present strap, with which he struck at me; but missed his aim - an accidental result, for which I am even at this late day very, very grateful. Because, as I thought at the time, I did not deserve to be punished; and if, in spite of this private moral conviction, my father had hurt my budding self-respect by brutal blows upon my person, I tremble to think of the germs of hatreds and cruelties which might have been then implanted, to ripen at some subsequent period, into fearful deeds of violence toward domestic animals, and, perhaps, even against my fellow-men. No! Explosive as were the promises of punishment made by this paternal veteran, and hasty as were his gesticulations in the direction of their immediate fulfilment; yet, as the gentle angel of 78 THE M1A GIC STAFF. memory joyfully testifies, he invariably preserved my infantile mind from the life-long injuries and maddening mortifications, which are li'kely altways to result from a forcible correction of the errors and wrongs of childhood! In the mere pronunciation of the word "thundering," I could not perceive the least harm. In fact,' as I thought when first I heard it used by Dave, it seemed the very best name for anything greatly disagreeable. Therefore, the evil of the speech being unknown to me, I esteemed my father's anger as a great discount on the excellency of his judgment. Consequently, as the genius of nature infallibly dictates to the young, I hastened to my mother for unbounded sympathy and protection. "'Don't scare the boy's life outs," said she to her husband. " He did n't know no better." " es! I'll warrant it," he returned snappishly, "you'll spile that young one, and bring him to the gallus. Don't humor him! If you do, my word for't, you'll rue the day you begun it." The good- woman sighed heavily, and continued in mute silence the discharge of her household duties; while the excited cordwainer, though repairing the sole of a neighbor's shoe, continued at an inverse ratio to impair the soul of his domestic happiness. In short, there was developed a fearful dispute between husband and wife the "bone of contention" being me, and only me! But as time brings flowers to earth, so brought it comparative peace to the family triangle; and I, once more rescued from the danger of castigation, revived the subject of my curiosity. Pursuing my affectionate apologist out doors, I asked:" Mother, now tell me -where did the doctor get that'are baby?" "What makes you ask?" "'Cause I wants one to play with: only I don't want a dead baby though." She smiled benignly upon me, and said:" You must be still and wait, child, till Uncle Bart comes over to our house; then ask him, and see what he'll say." I ASK MLANY QUESTIONS. 79 This gentle advice was sufficient. The subject was never broached again, till the venerable Dutchman, who owned the tenement we occupied, arrived one day to hoe the corn and examine the sprouting potatoes in the garden. He was uniformly very social and jovial; and we, children, having been told to use either the prefix " Mr." or "Uncle" when addressing those mother called " grown-up people," preferred the latter expletive for our patronizing friend. "Vell, mine leetle poy," said he to me, as I followed him to the lower end of the lot, " how ish de sic voman?" "Eliza's got well now," I replied; busily plotting meanwhile as to how I could open up the interesting subject which had been referred to him by my mother. But his next question assisted n'e. "'Vell, vat ish dat place under de tre yonder?" he asked, pointing to the unturfed mound made by the baby's grave. "Whiy, don't you know, Uncle Bart?" I inquired; "that's where father buried the little dead baby, that the doctor brought for our folks." "6 Vy, ish dat so, mid poy?" asked the good-natured Hollander, as he busily removed the weeds with his hoe. " Vy dat was vari padt, inteat." "Yes!'twas so," responded I mournfully. "But I wants a live baby of my own to play with. Can't you tell me where the doctor got it, Uncle Bart?" "Ha! ha! ha 1" heartily laughed the jolly man. "Vot! you vont life pape?" "Yes, Uncle Bart, I does," said I, blushing. "I wants a live one, too." " Vel den, pe a coot poy, and I vil tel vare de doctor cot it." With much enthusiasm I promised to be good; and he thus continued:"In de fust plash de doct pounds de holler tre, den puts hish ear to de tre; an if de chile ish widin an wake, den he hears dim 80 THE MIAGIC ST'AFF. cry for sum milch; den he saws te tre down, an taks te pape to hish own housh; den he sel te leetle cretur to de fust sic voman vot vonts dim." Wondrous revelation! Astounded by the grand sweep of the venerable Dutchman's superior intelligence on the origin of " leetle papes," I became, contrary tb my reputed character, very reverent and well nigh worshipful. The siml)licity, sincerity, and willingness, with which Uncle Bart instructed me in the art of procuring a live baby, as a pet to play with, encouraged me to make him a chum for the time being; and I was consequently emboldened to question him still further on other subjects of interest to my young mind. The entire baldness of his head had often greatly excited my childish curiosity, and now I asked, — "Say, Uncle Bart, say —what's the reason you hain't got no hair on?" At this the old man's face flashed out and gathered up into multitudinous comical wrinkles, the result of mirth restrained, and he replied:"Nix kom ahraus, mi poy! How vari punny! Vot you vonts to kno dat fur, eh? I-e! he!-vel —ha! ha!-ef yu ish coot to say nothing ven axed, den I vil tel hows de ting vus kom to happen." This mysterious introduction to the forthcoming information exalted my anxiety a degree higher; and rendered any delay of the sequel so hard to bear, that I cheerfully promised to preserve secrecy. Conditions complied with, the bald-heaIed end broadfaced Ilollander supported himself against the hoe-handle; and laughing and sober by turns, as near as I can remember, he titus proceeded:"Vel, ef I mus tel yu, mi poy, I vil. MBine frow had pen vonting von printle kow. Vel, I goes an finds de vari ting vot she vonted. Te man taks mi tollars an I taks te printle kow. MBi frow wus vari pleast, inteat, mit to cretur —'cause he give town a pig pall ful of milch. Put von morning apout noon, jist I ASK MANY QUESTIONS. 81 ash mi frow wus making te pot boil fur spon and milch for supper, mi headt itcht an itcht lik te vari tifel; an mi frow sed te dondcering printle kow's tainmt lish hat cot sprinkled mit mi pig mesh of hair. Vel, dey voldent pe combed out-no tamt a pit of itput dey eat and eat and grubbed avay till de hair wus all gone!" The deferential emotions which moved me toward TJncle Bart, previous to this narration, rapidly subsided, as he concluded it, into a horrid repugnance to continuing longer in his presence. With mingled feelings of alarm and loathing I listened to the last sentence, and then fled precipitately houseward-to make, despite my promise of secrecy, a full report (as I did in the apple case) of the old man's disagreeable story. I did so; and, with apprehensive tears and shuddering whimpers, besought my mother to save my head from a like calamity. She quieted me, as usual, and gave me the most satisfactory assurances, that Uncle Bart had only told me what he did in fun. But somehow, through several subsequent years, I could not get over a fear of having my own hair destroyed in a manner equally disgusting and horrible. The sport of this verminly narrative gratified my father and sisters considerably. They seemed to think the joke a fine feather in the old man's cap: while I, being naturally disposed to confide implicitly in the wisdom and authority of those advanced in years, received a shock from which I did not soon fully recover. And, therefore, I hereby put in my individual protest against that ruinous laxity of moral principle, on the part of aged persons, which permits them to talk to children as if they were idiots or imbeciles in matters of truth.'Tis my belief that more than one child. may be found, in every community, whose ordinary propensities are privately regarded in self-estimation, as better authority than the decisions of older minds; all as a sequence, to the flippant and disrespectful manner in which the delicate confidence of infantile intellects has been too frequently neglected, repulsed, or abused. dwyv` THE MAGIC STAFF. CHAPTER XIII INi WHIICH I GO BABY-HUNTING. "Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder?" THERE is- doubtless a marked difference in the original susceptibility of imagination in different persons, as of any other mental possession; but, if I write the exact truth of myself, I must confess that the finely-drawn lights and shades of external Nature had next to no effect whatever upon my juvenescent sensibilities. Only this do I remember-that, taking counsel with myself alone, I set out one bright day on the very romantic mission of hunting up a live baby. Previous to my departure, I crammed my pockets with round stones of various sizes, as a means of rousing the sleeping innocents which, according to the Dutchman's serious account, were to be found only in the dark concealment of hollow trees. An imaginative and sentimental mind could easily picture to itself the delicate beauties of objective creation, which, poetically Speaking, broke lovingly and lavishly upon the eye from every point of human observation. The glorious monarch of heaven, the mighty sun, shone resplendent between the horizon and the meridian. There was a transparent, crystalline brilliancy in the air, giving to each object a sharpness of outline, and inspiring the human senses with an intense realization of existence. I presume I GO BABY-HUNTING.. 83 that the feathery songsters warbled their melodies in each tree. and I suppose, also, that the music of many dancing streamlets was conveyed to my ear. Wild, melodious, and free, doubtless, came every note from the song of the circumscribed world in which I then lived. But of all this, and many other enchanting realities surrounding nec, I had not the least appreciation. This fact in my own psy-lological history predisposes me to the belief that certain idealistic writers, when describing the myriad beautiful romances and' dreams of juvenility and adolescence, indulge in a poetic license of no ordinary magnitude. The blooming Eden of childhood is known only to the full-grown, healthy man; that is,'tis a pure maturity alone which can truly appreciate the good, the romantic, and the beautiful. The plain truth is, without any poetical embellishment, that my hunting-expedition was mentally planned to come off in the great woods, across the stream, just west of our rustic residence. The nearest way to this woodland was by the foot-bridge already described as being composed of a couple of limber saplings reaching across from bank to bank. WVhen once I got my feet upon it, the poles vibrated and dashed so rapidly up and down in the rushing tide, that I came very near being precipitated headlong into the swollen current. This at first terrified me much; but, throwing overboard some of my ballast, I reached the opposite bank without accident. Having gained the field of discovery, in high hopes of success, I commenced my novel peregrinations. As I picked my way through the brush and quagmires, I thought thus: "Suppose I should wake up more babies than one, what shall I do?'T would make me sick to leave them crying in the woods; but'twould make me sicker to see that grim, ugly old man wring their heads off as he killed the kittens 1" With the mental conclusion to step alone lightly, and pound the trees as carefully as possible, I religiously approached a lofty rock 84 THE MAGIC STAFF. oak, which I regarded as large enough to be "hollow;" and then and there I inaugurated the quickening or awakening process. I knocked and listened, and listened and knockedl, and then I whispered, and presently shouted aloud; but without hearing the infiantile "cry," which I was tremulously prepared to hear as my reward. Then I tried my experiment on other trees, and finally upon various logs which lay scattered here and there through the forest; but nothilngr save my own sobs of disappointment and whimperings of fatigue broke upon the listening ear. Disheartened, I began to retrace my. steps.'Tis said by some that childhood is the happiest period of life, because it is esteemed to be freest from the vexations, and onerous cares, and possible disappointments, of weighty responsibility. But, so far as my own experience goes, I verily believe that no man was ever made to feel more humiliated or saddened by the misfortunes of speculation and commerce, than I, as a child, felt as a consequence of my failure of success on this particular expedition. Fancy me, dear reader, returniing to tile home of my early memories childless, and without any adequate compensation! Of course, I was of necessity thoughtful. "Now," said I mentally, "that'are plaguy old Uncle Bart has been foolin' me ag'in; I do n't b'lieve nothin' what he ses no more!" IMy simplistic confidence in the goodness and reliability of gray hairs began to decline. Superannuated wisdom, though crowned with a bald cranium, and leaning on a most useful instrument of agriculture, seemed next to foolishness. Thus thinking and concluding, I trudged on to the brink of the swift waters. The stream appeared considerably more swollen and more rapid than before, for a heavy rain of a previous day had greatly enlarged the tributary streamlets through the upper country. To wallk the slhaking foot-bridge, made of insecure saplings, was beyond my pedestrian skill. So, down I got on "all fours" -a quadruped form of locomotion by and through which the human I GO BABY-HUNTING. 85,nfant is developed into a permanent biped-and, cautiously creeping, I made some headway toward the opposite shore. But the rushing waters, splashing and dashing oil every side, added to the rapid undculations of the elastic poles beneath me, proved too Ngreat a trial for myl strength. "Motier! mother 1" cried I. But the distance was too grteat for my voice to be heard. "Come! help -I can't stir!" I screamed, as, with every nerve, I strained to retain my hold; \Nc aid came. A dreadful dizziness seized my head, which seemled to make everything whirl and buzz with a frightful celerity. Another moment, and the springing poles seemed to fly from under mLe, throwing me with violent force into the roaring torrent! In nmy agony I grasped the horizontal sa;iings — s now above me-when the speeding tide, at the moment, carried my head beneath and projected my feet into the air! I tried to shout and vociferate for assistance; but the foaming water ran down my throat Paned painfully closed out my breath! Although the sun was now at the zenith, yet do I remember how dark the world suddenly appeared; and I recollect, also, as I lost all fear, how the twinkling stars came out in the bending heavens, causing me so gently to think of sleep. They soothed me, like my mother's eyes, and I slept! Parents, guardians, superintendents of public schools! " Come, and let us reason together." Let me ask you —" Should little children be taught to disrespect and insult their more matured and more experienced protectors and associates?" You may think yourselves very expert in evading your child's questions on delicate subjects; you can invent momentary subterfuges; you can gracefully and stealthily prevaricate; you can manifest your superior discretion through a squeamish denial of what you know; you may be too delicate to tell the truth, but not too delicate to construct a festooned refuge of cunning little "white lies," just suited to your cllild's undeveloped capacity and inexperience; you may treat your juvenile pet as if it had not a mnemory $8 THE MAGIC STAFF. that, one day, will rise up to rebuke and charge you with deception: your amiable prudery; your silly denial of the ever-beautiful facts of maternity; your profane shirking of what underlies the origin of man —all, too plainly declare that your delicacy is spurious, that yoear veracity is mixed with deception, that your refinement is uncivil, that your capacity is not adequate to the comprehension and rearing of the young! But how many parents there are, good and intelligent, who really do not know what to reply when questioned by children. Such inquire, " What shall we say?" In reply, I will refer to the case described in preceding pages. Let us suppose that the boy's mother, instead of answering, " The doctor brought the baby," had simply replied: "The doctor knows more than I do about it.;When you see him, perhaps he will tell you what he knows. If he does not, the reason will be that you are now too young to understand hlim." With such a reply in his mind, the little inquisitive urchin would rest satisfied for the time being; and, on making the discovery at some future day, and recalling what his mother said, he could not withhold either his admiration for her truthfulness or respect for her refinement. And so with the venerable Dutchman. Instead of fillingf the youngster's brain with ridiculous imaginings, suppose he had said: "Vel, mi leetle poy, dar ish many tings dat shildren can't do mid dar han's, as yu vel know; an' so dar ish many tings dat shildren can't understand mid dar heads. Now, pe a coot poy, and, vyen yu ish pigger, and yen yu can york as pig peeples vorks, den yu shall know jest how te doct' bro't de pape to yourn housh." Now, it seems to me that the most limited understanding can at once perceive the moral benefit of such counsel. The subject of this history would have been, by those few words of truth, rescued from the fast-flowing waters; and saved not less from many bad impres sions concerning the foolishness and falsehood of persons advanced in years. THE C'URiTAiwi AGAIN BfiSES. 87 CHI3APTER XIV. TIIE CUIRTAIN AGAIN; RISES. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time." GiIDING alone over a dead level of commonplace experiences, of several weeks' duration, the reader may behold, in the year 1832, the exodus of the cordwainer's family-bound for another tenement, in the town of HIyde Park, Dutchess county, New York -himself, meanwhile, hopeful and jovial under the despotic enchantment of the infernal wizard Alcohol. There was now, as on occasions of similar trial, an expression of deep dejection upon the countenance of his wife. In her large eyes there was a look of Extreme Distance; as if beholding- a vision of some other, fairer, holier, higher state- of existence. Mournful indeed was the sigh with which she openly announced the fact that, at certain moments, o'er the past her thoughts were sadly roaming. Her dissatisfied expressions too plainly told (to,those who could read them) that she felt herself a stranger in a strange land-a dove, set forth from the Ark of Life, finding not where to rest the sole of her foot in safety. If, at such moments of inward retrospection, her thoughts had been truly rendered int3 symbolic language, they might have reminded one of the " Deserted Village:" 86 THIE 35T MAGIC STA F-. Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all, And the long glass o'ertops the moullering wall; And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, Far, far away, thy children leave the land!" For thus, when viewed as a whole on the background of her deeper life, appeared the many homes she had been compelled to desert, in obedience to the fiat of her restless husband. In justification whereof he would in substance say:"N'othing ventured, nothing had. What's the use o' staying here, with my nose to the grindstone? lake or break —that's my way!" And thus organizationally impelled, he treated his wife's constitutional yearnings and spiritual lingerings as tte childish ebullitions of a childish intellect. Was that right in him? Was that wrong in her? Where shall the praise terminate? Where shall the blame begin? Who can infallibly judge them? Who will answer? Away o'er the mountains of rudimental existence, methinks I hear the responsive echo, "Who?" As the loaded wagon rolled along on the highway toward the house already indicated, the desponding woman was by an urchin thus addressed: "Mother, tell me once more —how did I come to breathe?". "Why, child,'t was so ordered that you wasn't to leave us then." "Who ordered it, mother?" "'Twas Providence, Jackson. It was so to be. It couldn't be no different. You wasn't a-goin' for to die so young. That's the reason, bhub." " Say, mother, say," continued I, "hain't that'are Prov'dence somethin' like that'are Santa Claus what you told me?" At this, the unsophisticated and reverential woman shuddered; as if alarmed, but replied:"Oh, don't talk no more like that, Jackson! Providence, you must know, is the Ml3aker of the hull world —the source of every blessin'; and'tain't good to talk so about Providence." "Well, I won't no more," I replied, blushing with a regretful THE CURTAIN AGAIN RISES. 89 feeling that I had. unintentionally wounded her spirit; " but, I'd like to hear you tell, mother, how I was made to live again." In her own provincial and unpretending dialect, she proceeded: "Somehow or ruther, it so happened that Eliza and Henry (her husband) was a-standin' by the well-curb a-talkin', when, all tc once, she looked down at the big creek, and, seein' somethin' curious pokin' up by the poles, she tells Henry to go see what't was. So down the hill he goes, and, when lie got near enough, he screams,'Why, as I live, it's Jackson's feet!' Then Eliza knocked at the winder, and yelled to me and father, and ses-'Take haste! our bub's got drownded in the brook!' We bothl jumped all to once, and didn't stop for nothin', but Iun out jest as Henry was a-bringin' you up to the house. Oh, how the water dripped off o' your clothes!'You was as wet, bub, as a drownded rat. Father sed,'I guess he ain't dead.' But we'd heerd that rollin' was good to bring drownclded folks to life ag'in. So we rolled and tunmbled you, over and over, 6n the hard floor but you didn't show no signs of breathin' or livin' at all. But I know'd Providence wouldn't take you from us so young. Henry went and got >an old barrel, andcl father rolled you face downwards on it very quick, and shook you at tile same time. Oh, how glad I was to see the water begin to pour out.of your mouth! You was very sick, and threw up as much as a gallon of water; then you groaned, and I know'd you would get well. 1Wae wrapped you up in warm flannel, and covered you all over with thick bedclothes. And by night you was able to set up and talk -don't you remember that, Jackson?" " Oh, yes, I remember that, mother," I responded; "but why didn't Prov'dence keep me from fallin' in the creek?" "'Cause," she replied, "'tain't his way. He lets folks go on jest as they pleases, till they gets in trouble; then, if he likes'em, he helps'em out; but, if he doesn't like'em, then he lets'em get out hap-hazard, or any way they can." At this moment, the inebriated cordwainer came running back 90 THE MAGIC STAFF. to us from the forward wagon - with his dark eye-s dancing a hornpipe, while his shaky legs seemed ludicrously endeavoring to perform that function which is characteristic only of the sober-minded — to announce that ryn house, whose chimney-top was just visible across-the fields, was to be our next habitation. The ride thither was brief. Without detailing the fusion and confusion incidental tilereto, I will just record the agreeable fact that, ere the ebony drapery of Night clothed the fairy, frosted landscape o'er, we were pretty well fitted in and reconciled to our new quarters. We were really pleased with and proud of our exchange. Instead of a crumbling rookery, we found ourselves in a comfortable cottage, situated in the midst of apple, peach, and plum trees, and not more than two rods from the public road. How rejoiced we were! Julia Ann and I expressed our enthusiastic delight in various fantastic ways; and when we got into the trundle-bed that night, I remember exclaiming, aloud: "LHaimn't father real good, mother? He's helped us out of a bad place-jest like that'are Prov'dence what you told me." SIGNS OF SECOND-SIGHT 91 CHAPTE R XV. IN IWHICH ARE SIGNS OF SECOND-SIGIIT. "I fear, too early; for my mind misgbives, Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars." OunR industrious and thriving landlord, TIiram lMarshall, was our very best friend. He cheerfully provided my father with sufficient field labor to pay the rent, to buy a young cow, and otherwise to advance the private fortunes of our domestic triangle. One warm afternoon in mid-summer, the farmer called at our house for a drink of cold water; and while there he remarked to mother, that he had just spent two whole hours in searching for an ox-chain, but without success. As he spoke, I observed an air of dreamy abstraction sweep athwart her mild face; and, contrary to her habit, she appeared not to hear anything he was relating. Presently, however, she recovered from her involuntary revery, and said: "I guess't ain't lost, Mnr. Marshall." " Guess what ain't lost," lie replied, " the ox-chain?" "Yes! that's what I mean. It's jest where you left it your own self." "You're mistaken-good woman," said he, smiling with incredulity. "The last time I had it, I was drawing stone in my upper lot yonder; and, as I've looked that field all over, I'm sure it ain't there." "Yes,'tis, though," returned she with unshaken confidence, "you'll find it jest where you left it- agin the big stump, in the north corner of the lot —now, see if you don't." 92 THE MAGIC STAFF. Actuated by the simplicity and definiteness of her direction, off he went to the specified spot. When next we saw him, he acknowledged that the chain was just where she said, but declared he couldn't imagine how it happened, unless mother "was a witch." Aided by the refinement and delicacies which have resulted firom years of subsequent discipline and culture, I can look back upon the sensuous experiences of my youth, and allow myself to fancy, as many individuals do, that the poetic and the beautiful in external nature made a lebgitirnate impression upon the canvass of imagination and memory. Doubtless it is true, that some very young children, born of certain parents, do have, like Lucretia and MIargaret Davidson, an early perception of the beautiful; but, as already said, if I write exactly of my own reminiscences, I nam constrained to acknowledge the realization of no romance, no fascination, no spiritual delight, in anything connected with early life. On the contrary, I remember that I valued trees, in hot weather, for their fruit and their shade; in winter months, for the fire-wood they made after being laboriously sawed and split. Stones existed, to build fences with; grass, for cows to eat; water, for all to drink; the sul, to keep us warm; the rain, to make vegetation grow; the sni ow, that children milght ride down hill; the ice, to slide and play upon; thunder and lightning, because (as I thought when mother was frightened) something had got loose in the clouds, and mighlt fail like a great rock on somebody's head; and thus, throughout the entire programme of my juvenile experiences, I valued all objects and sensations — my parents and sisters included-in proportion as they administered to the desires and gratifications of my bodily needs and sensibilities. But now, facing the past, and looking with eyes measurably trained to detect the delicate and the super-terrestrial in the commonest things, I know that there was great opulence in the poorest blade of grass beneath our window; MuSiC, in the patter SIGNS OF SECOND-SIGHT. 93 ings of the rain upon the cottage-roof; pictures, in the furlongs of landscape visible from our door; angels, as much in clouds and darkness as in sunshine; poetry, in summer's and winter's myriad lights and shades; and a divine substance, in the dark and dreary depths of every shadow! But; alas! not knowing of the exist-,ence of these imperishable riches-which were as much ours as that of any other family in th6 world - we fIlt ourselves frequently and painfully embarrassed. Our oppressors were —Ignorance, Intemperance, Poverty, Discord. These terrible despots seldom exerted their power at once; but, like so many demons in the poor man's path, took turns in tormenting and chafing us. One day my mother had upon her that look of Distance, which I began to dread, as the certain precursor or omen of domestic evil. At different times, while engaged at her housework, she appeared like one lost in the vision of some far-off scene. With her great eyes wide open, she would look abstractedly against the wall-or throzugh it as it were-into the vacuity of a remote and unknown space; at which, more than ever before, I felt disconcerted and terrified; and, all unconscious of any filial disrespect, I tried to make her act social and natural, by pulling at her dress, and by passing my hand rapidly to and fro, between her eyes and the direction in which their vision seemed to set. But all this, I noticed, had next to no effect. When recovered from her dreamy and dreary revery, she gently rebuked me: "Don't do so, hbub! do n't you know no better than that?" Generally speaking; almost every healthy boy at my age woukt have been out-of-doors flying a kite, or at some other amusement usual to the all-glorious month of October. But, to this sport. loving season of childhood, my history is a uniform and positive exception. Instead of gathering walnuts or grapes in the woods -rather than climbing trees for favorite fruits-I chose to dwell with the lone woman: "hangin-, as my father sneeringly said; "to my mother's apron-string." She was l10t alone in any social 94 THE TIAM-IC STAFF. understanding of the term, for every member of the family was a constant inmate of that house, except Eliza, who had gone to live elsewhere with her husband. But, to me, she ever appeared to have an undercurrent of private life, with which there was mingling the affection of no congenial spirit. Not a creature was there to understalnd her; no soul to sympathize with and help her. on her ircolnprehensible pilgrimage. It was a vague conviction of her loneliness, doubtless, added to the natural selfishness of my dependent nature, desirous to be cared for and indulged, which caused me to mrake her my particular associate and confidant. Aftei she had passed through another day's uncertainty and absent-mindedness, imparting that dreaded and wandering expression to her eyes, I asked:"Say, mother, what makes you act so queer all the time?" My question, so unexpectedly and pointedly put, evidently dis turbed her, because she replied: " Oh,'t ain't nothin' to nobody but me." This rejoinder was neither new nor satisfactory; and hence I started out on another track, and said:6' lain't we better off than what we was in Bart Cropsey's house? Hain't'father more soberer and steadier than what he was in that'are old shanty? He's a workin' on the farm every day, hain't he, mother? And hain't our cow e'ne most paid for? Say, mother, what's the matter of you?" To all this juvenile review of the improvement in our existing circumstances, over those of previous months within my recollection, she despairingly replied:9"Oh,'tain't no use a talkin', child. There's more trouble a comnin'!'Tis man's lot! It's so ordered to be; an' can't be no different I'm'fraid." "What trouble, mother, what's a goin' to happen next?" "None but Providence knows," said she gloomily, "but I have seen the signs." "What signs? What was it that you seen? Tell m% mother, I won't tell father —nor nobody else." SIGNS OF SECOND-SIGHET. 0 I've been feelin' jest as I felt when lost in John M3yers's woods," she replied; "I've seen the new moon over my left shoulder lately; and last night, when washln' the supper things, I dropt a fork on the floor, tine foremost; and then, in the middle of the night, I dreamt one of my bad dreams, about crossing muddy water and combin' my hair with a coarse comb, when my hair come out in bunches; and besides, I seen some dark shadders out in the road four or five times, witllin a couple of days; so I know well enough, as I allus knows, that there's trouble for this'ere poor family." To this recital I listened with childish wonderment, mingled with considerable agitation. I knew not how to utter a word of comfort. Indeed, in writing this history I have, as I fear, reported my mother's as well as my own speech as being more direct and less uncouth and bungling than it was in fact. At this day, with my present knowledge of the English language, I recall the tautological talking, the rustic chatting, the ungrammatical conversations of our family, with unfeigned surprise and sub-led amusement. T'hus brought up, or rather pushed up, I did not know words enough wherewith to convey what little sympathy my limited capacity allowed me to 3xperience for my mother in her psychological trials. But I began to feel a need of confidence in the protective watchfulness of the Good Big Man in the sky; and that night, with considerable enthusiasm and emphasis, I repeated many times this supplication: "Say, kind Prov'dence, you w.'t let nothin' happen to our folks; will vou?" 3i; 0 THE MAGIC STAFF. CHAPTER X VI MY TE31PTATION TO BE rPROFANE. A spirit not my own wrenched me within; And I have spoken words I fear and hate." THE harvestings and corn-cuttings over for that season, my father, agreeably to his established custom, went about in search of shoemaking, as a means of supporting his family through the fall and winter months. Success crowned his exertions at length, and he took his seat on the throne of St. Crispin with all the regal majesty and self-satisfaction at his command. One genial autumnal day, as this industrious artisan was de-, parting — with the results of his labor, for the wholesale and retail shop, located in some distant village beyond the hills, whence the work had been procured —he pleasantly accosted me, and said: "Look here, Jackson, if you'll bring brush all day from the woods, to kindle fires with, I'll fetch you a jewsharp." Now this notorious musical instrument was the greatest and most extraordinary human invention, to yield melody, that had ever come within the range of my natural vision. It possessed, to my imagination, untold charms, and embodied the greatest advantages. What made the harp seem peculiarly attractive was, the idea of playing and getting pleasure out of it with one's mouth -just as gratification was got out of cherries, strawberries, apples, peaches, and other delicious eatables. As a natural consequence, then, I cheerfully ratified the spontaneous bargain; and, taking lMY TEMPTATION TO BE PROFANE. 97 only time enough to acquaint mother with the promise and conditions of its fulfilment, I straightway went to my day's labor. If the reader knows anything about gathering brush all day in the woods —especially while too young and too weak to pull and draw the best pieces from clinging brambles and entwining briers -then will I be understood when I describe it as one of the most vexatious of occupations. There is much work, but little show. I tugged away for hours. Toward night I got very tired —very nervous with anxiety - and a piece of bread and butter. But at last I actually accumulated what I proudly regarded as a great pile of kindling-wood and brush near the garden-gate. My object in stacking the evidence of my industry there was, to overcome father's mind at first sight with the conviction that the jewsharp was fully earned and honestly deserved. To this belief I had already brought my mother, by getting her to come out to see for herself the unmistakeable triumphs of my toil. Thus satisfied, I stationed myself against the outside doorpost, to catch the first glimpse of the absent progenitor, whose return vas every moment expected. Anon, through the lengthening Shadows of the approaching twilight, I beheld with joy the wellknown man, staggering along laden with a great package of leather, to manufacture into boots and shoes during the next two weeks. Self-control being now absolutely out of the question, I ran to meet and welcome' him, and so get my musical remuneration in advance. He bade me wait till we reached the house. ~ks he passed the garden-gate, and saw the brush-heap there, my ars3 tingled with delight when he said, "Wbhy, you've been very,nat!"?' But who can express my disappointment, when he dedlared that he had entirely forgotten to bring me the jewsharp! What a revulsion of feeling I A wealthy landholder, hearing that a11 his property had been swallowed by an earthquake, could not have felt worse. 31y sudden bankruptcy, for a boy's mind, was just as hard to bear, as a man's misfortune is hard for a man's capacity. I was both sad and angry. I was honestly and stoutly 98 THE MAGIC STAFF. enraged against my father for his negligence. HIalf-sufocated with the contending emotions of disappointment and rage, I determined to go out by the wood-pile, and swear an auful oath! saw no other plan to get relief —no other way to do the subject justice. Thlis resolution took immediate effect. Thither I delib. erately proceeded; and concentrating, at one burning focus, all the ugly words I could recall at the moment, I actually and knowingly swore: " I'll be dod darn to dod clarnation if that hain't too th. underin' dam. bad, any how I" Twilight had died away into darkness, in which I stood alone and enveloped. Serenely shone the evening stars. Not a breath of air moved the foliage in the garden; not a sound could I hear fiom the apple-orchard; not a sigh of sadness from the woods whence tie- brush had been so laboriously obtained. Still, very still, too still, was all the world —within the reach of my physical senses-at the moment when I so wilfully disturbed the scene with my terrible profanity. Hark! What's that? In an instant after I had vented my rage, there passed into mine ear an exclamation, heavy laden with that mysterious condemnation which penetrated me to the very core of my being —-" WIIY', JACKSON!"'T was my mother's voice —or I thought it was —and in a moment my frame quivered and shook with fear. Darkness fell round about me with a sudden and alarming density. The very air seemed undulated and convulsed, as by the throes of some offended deity. A swift wind seemingly circunmgyrated and buzzed close to my head, and, as I imagined, lifted my cap and replaced it several times. "] Why, Jackson!" Once only heard I these plain words; but they thrilled me with an unaccountable horror. They unmistalkcably conveyed, and awakened in me toward myself; astonishment, rebulce, grief, commiseration! "0 pshaw! what's the use bein''fraid of mother?" soliloquized I; " she can't blame me, no how." This thought refreshed my courage; and though still uncoatrolla -M Y TE?;IPTArION TO BE PROFANE. 99 bly agitated, into the house I went, and poutingly exclaimed: "Don't care if you did hear me swear.'Twas too bad, any how 1" Fortunately, the maternal ear alone heard my spontaneous confession. The fatigued man, having walked far and imbibed much, was almost asleep by the fire; while Julia Ann, ever kind and ever active, was busy with preparations for the evening meal. The good woman looked very sad and much troubled, which caused me to regret still more my profanity. Supper being over, and the sleeping-hour arrived, she said: "Now, Jackson, me and you must talk. What I wants to know is, be you becomin' a bad boy? Be I to be disappointed in everything in my life? Is you a-goin' to act jest like other folks's bad children, an' bring sorrow to your poor mother everlastin'ly?" Her desponding discourse greatly intensified my sufferings, and made the tears come, with words of self-justification: " Do n't you think'twas too bad? War n't father to blame for not gittin' the jewsharp?" " Oh,'tain't no use talkin' that'are way," replied she peevishly; "everybody does wrong sometimes. An' if you're wicked'cause other folks is bad, then there's no use for to live no more. Now tell me jest what you said out doors there." Sobbingly and regretfully I repeated, ad literatim, the string of wicked words, and asked, "Didn't you hear me?" "MIercy save us,!" she exclaimed. "No, I didn't hear you; and I'm thankful I didn't. Providence know'd I couldn't bear to hear my boy speak such bad words." This answer astonished me greatly. "Then, who called me?" said I. "Who hollered so loud, and said,'Why, Jackson'? I tho't'twas you; but bein' so dark, I couldn't see. ]Must be'twas Julia Ann." "No,'twasn't nuther," returned my quietly-listening sister. "This is the fust I've heard of your swearin'- an' I hope to mercy'twill be the last." 100 T'I-Li MAGIC STAFF. " Now I know why I seen thema shadders in the road," sighed my mother. "'T was so ordered to be, an' can't be no different, I'm'fraid. That'are voice, child, makes me think of what the Bible ses about Cain bein' hurried on from one bad thing to another, until he killed his brother. Then he heer'd a voice cryin' from the blood on the ground, an' from the clouds over his head, sayin',' Where's your brother Abel?' 0 dear me," continued she gloomily, "I'm'firaid there's trouble a-comin'. Providence has been a-ccdllin' you to be good, an' you don't mind a word he ses " Perhaps the thoughtful reader -remembering the chidings of a parent Nwho employed kindness as the only rod of correctioncan imagine the painful, heart-broken, inexpressible regret which the foregoing conversation engendered in my young and sympathetic spirit. But the most painful trial was yet in store for me. As the last word was complainingly uttered, the good woman arose and procured an old book-with one leather cover, but without pictures —which I had seen father peruse many times, on sabbath-days, when he never worked. She laid the dusty volume open on her lap, and began rurnmaging it in quest of something to read. At first, this manceuvring rather interested me, because'twas almost new-my mother being next to no reader at all. " This'ere book is the Bible, Jackson," said she; " the book of kind Providence. In this'ere Bible is a sayin' about what'll become of bad folks. I want you to hear all about that'are." Finding the rightverses, she began spelling the words in order to read of the horrid fate of wicked people. But the uneducated woman could make no headway with the sacred orthography. Accordingly, she quietly closed the revered volume, and, trusting to lhIr defective memory, said:"Providence is good to them that's good. But he's jest as mercifull as he's promised to be, to all them that's ugly and wicked. He ses that the good people shall be happy with him everlastili'lv. And he ses next, that them what lies, and steals, and iMY TEMPTATION TO BE PROFANE. 101 swears, shall be sent headlong into a dretful big lake of b'ilin'-hot brimstone, where there's nothin' but a-weepin', an' a-wailin', an' a foamin' at the mouth, an' a-'nashin' of teeth, an' a-frettin' to get out, an' a-wantin' to drink dretfully, an' a-prayin' everlastin'ly to die! But there's no comfort —no rest —no sleepin'-no water to drink-no friend to help- and, No NOTHIN'!" Overcome with the accumulated horrors of the soul-sickening revelation, I could listen no longer. " Do let me go to bed i" I cried. "I won't swear no more, never." Miy request was granted. But no sooner had I got under the bedclothes, than mother began to coax and insist that I should repeat after her the wellknown juvenile prayer commencing with"Now I lay me down to sleep." The third line —" If I should die before I wake"- revived all my original fear of death. Nothing seemed more risky than slumber. -Silently I lay awake. I fancied that my breathing was becoming every moment more and more short and difficult. All doubt fled, and I supposed I knew that I was surely dying! With great pulmonary exertion I screamed for immediate help. But I had the misfortune to suddenly awaken my father from his deep sleep of fatigue, who impatiently exclaimed: "Why didn't you give that'are boy some brimstone and molasses, to physic his blood? He'11 never git red of them plaguy worms if you do n't!" This absurd and repulsive diagnosis of my psychological complaint, had the effect to neutralize and dissipate the "hypo" of myll imagination -a result whiclh acted so beneficially, that respiration became as healthy as ever, and every symptom indicated a speedy convalescence. Of course, the aroused silre did not know that I had just swallowed an immense quantity of b'ilin'lhot brimstone," to purge my spirit of blasphemous inclinations. Slumber soothed me tenderly after a while, however; but, ere the next morning's sun shone upon me, I was a victim of disease in the form of fever-and-ague, 102 THE MAGIC STAFF. Memorable, indeed, was the terrible lesson of that night! So deep and so impressive was it, that never, firom that date to this hour, have I been conzsciouts of uttering a profane word. And in the depth of my soul do I desire that every young mind could be made to feel, in some manner equally impressive and salutary, the uselessness of anger and the vulgarity of the language which expresses it. MY MIOTHE1R'S DREAM. 103 CHAPTER XVII. MIY MOTIHIER S DREAAM. As music's Goddess taketh down her lute, Touches the silver cords of dulcet sound, And sets the summer melodies to words; So from the Spirit Land an Angel comes, And, when profoundest slumber folds us fast, Wrakens our highest faculties of soul Into serenest contemplation. A SEVERl headache, accompanied with symptoms of chilliness and thirst, caused me to awake earlier than usual on the morning that succeeded the trials chronicled in the last chapter. Looking about, I saw the still anxious mother sitting close up'neath tlhe projecting mantlepiece, drawing consolation from her pipe. As the narcotic vapor floated out leisurely upon her breathescaping with the smoke of bits of the memorable brush now burning in the ample fireplace — methought, "1Oh, how I'd like to use a pipe and tobacco! VWhy not? Old folks does-big folks who allus knows what's good-then why not I?" Selfinterrogating thus, and dreaming o'er the advantages of doing just what my seniors do, I asked:"Can't I have one of your old pipes, mother? I want to smoke as well as you. Father chaws terbacker, you know; but I does n't like the taste; only smokin' like you is what I wants." "Mi ercy on us!" she exclaimed, " what'll you want next?" "I don't know," I replied, "I want to be good, mother, an' I1J4 THE MA'GIC ST'AFF. I'm goin' to filler you, an' do jest as you does; then I. know I'TI be what you allus wants of me." At these words her countenance betokened grief. But knocking the ashes from her pipe, and refilling it to the brim with the narcotizing and seductive weed, she persuasively and soothingly said: "' Don't'spose, bub, that I'm good. I tries to be so allus, and want you to be better than me, an' so you mustn't smoke, never." "My head aches so, mother, I doesn't know what to do. I guess smokin' would make me feel better. If'tain't good to smoke, what makes you smoke?" "Why, bub, didn't I tell you once? Two years afore you was born, when we lived in the Jarseys, I had the dropsy dretfully. No doctor couldn't do me no good; an' I come near to the brink of my grave; when an old woman happened in. Ses she to me, ses she,' I know what'11 cure you.' Ses I to her, ses I,' What is it?' Then ses she,'You must throw thle water off o' your stummic by smokin' terbacker.' I follered her remidee an' I got well agin. But somehow or ruther, I can't leave off the pipe now; if I does, I feels bad at my stummic, an' I can't do nothin' about the house, which you knows I must keep a doin'." This brief and unartistic history of how she formed the habit, took from me all desire ever to follow my mother's example. Indeed, so tractable was my nature when thus appealed to, that neither the pipe nor anything resembling it (except once a bit of lighted ratan) ever got between my lips. And I am very thankful. On every alternate day for two weeks, I shook with the ague and sweltered with the fever; but, owing to some medical preparation which I do not recall, the symptoms subsided and convalescence set in! To cheer and strengthen me, mother proposed that I should accompany her to the village on a trading expedition. These pedestrian excursions, almost more than any other MY MOTHER'S DREAM. ]05 custom among the lowly, indicate the ignorance of the: North American peasantry. There is, perhaps, intelligence enough among this class in the exchange of country produce for house. keeping articles, dry goods, groceries, &c.; but, intimately associated with such families as ours represented, there is ever to be seen a deplorable lack of that knowledge which finds economy no task or hinderance to happiness. For instance: my mother, obedient to her own habits and the husband's commandments, would save dozens of hens' eggs and make rolls of sweet butter,: (from our brindle cow's milk,) and exchange them for- such useless, injurious, and expensive substances as, Young Hyson tea, burnt coffee, plug tobacco, and tobacco Jine-cut for smoking! While in other things — rice, sugar, molasses, calico, newspapers, books, pictures, &c. —we lived on the extremest edge of want. Returning firom the scene of traffic in the afternoon of this chilly autumn day, with what our folks termed " necessaries" for the family, I was threatened with a revival of the dreaded fever and ague. So severe were the aching and chilliness that, pervaded me, that mother seated herself and pillowed my head upon her lap. In order to divert my attention from the distressing symptoms, she saidcl:"Now if you'll cheer up and, be a little man, I'll tell you a dream what I had once." I promised to try and not cry till we reached home, and asked: "When did you dream it, mother?" "' When I got lost in John Alyers's woods," she replied. "Do n't you remember?" I- answered in the affirmative;. whereupon, in her own untutored style, she continued in substance as follows:"Well, as I was a walkin' an' a lookin' for kindlin' wood, a thin shadder fell over-my eyes. I tuk up my apron an' tried to wipe it out. I could n't do it, though. And pretty quick I forgot everything, an' did n't recollect nor know nothin' no. more. Then I 106 THE MAGIC STAFF. dreamt I lived on the side of a high mountain; alone by myself, an' away from every livin' cretur. " But a strange man kept a walkin' an' a walkin' toward me. When he got up close to me, I ses to him, ses I,'What do you want o' me, mister?' Then ses he to me, ses he,'You hain't fit to be a livin' all stark alone on this'ere high mountain.''Oh, yes I be too,' ses I to him.' No you hain't nuther,' ses he to me,'an' I won't have it so.' Then ses I,'You clear out an' let me alone; you're a strange man to me, an' I do n't want nothin' to do with strangers.' "But somehow or ruther, he made me foller him down into the hollar, at the foot of the mountain, where the grass was green, an' the blummies a bloomin'.'Now,' ses he to me, ses he,'good woman, I'm a goin' to show you a siglht what you never seen afore,''Well,' ses I to him, ses I,'let's see you do it.' I kinder tho't I was sassy to an utter stranger; but I looked an' seen jest what he p'inted at." "What d'you see, mother?" interrupted I with the greatest interest, and quite forgetful of my weariness and pain " what d' you see?" " Why, I'll tell you, bhub. I look'd an' I seen a somethin'which I didn't see, a kind o' strong hand out o' sight-lift a big white sheet up in the middle of the field. Under it there stood anuther man whose face. somehow or ruther, I seem'd to know very well. Then, as I look'd, I seen three men a comin' from different corners of the country. They kept a walkin', nearer an' nearer, to the man what was under the sheet. Bimeby, they got to him. The first put in the middle man's hand a bundle of pens, to the number of a dozen. The second put a jug of very black ink in his t'other hand. The third opened a big package of very white paper an' laid it right at his feet." "Why, mother!" cried I in the height of childish excitement, "didn't you wake up an' stop dreamin'?" MY MOTHER'S DREAM. 107 "No," she replied, "I didn't wake up till I heer'd father a callin' my name." "Didn't you see no more?" I asked, my health nearly restored. "Oh, yes " she continued, "I seen the three men stand still. An' the man took a pen an' dipt it in the ink an' writ over a hull lot o' paper. Then he took anuther pen an' done the self-same thing; an' so on, first one an' then t'other till the pens was all used up an' there was n't no ink nor no paper that was hisen. "Jest at this'ere instant there came up a whirlwind an' scattered the paper, what was writ on, all over the hull country, some one way an' some a nuther. An' I was kinder scared when I seed the hull dozen pens turn into a dozen full-grow'd men, drest in pretty white an' blue clothes. Each man went to work, without no orders to work, an' collected the scattered sheets o' paper. When they put a leaf o' paper down it turned right into white wheat bread; an' the ink fiow'd right off jest like oil, an' turned into somethin' what looked like port wine, which the men pour'd into stone pots all round there. "Now I tho't that there was a goin' to be a famine, or a war, or a somethin', I didn't know nothin' what. For the hull country was full of folks. The strangers kept a comin' up, closer an' closer, to where the dozen men stood; the one man standin' bolt upright in-the middle of the ]hull tribe. The folks what kept comin' was so many, that I could n't see nothin' o' the ground nor nothin' t' other side. It look'd jest like a river- an' like human bein's a swimmin', with their faces jest out o' the water. But up they come, an' ses they to the dozen men, ses they:' We be all hungry an' we be dry: won't you give us solmethin' to eat an' somethin' to drink; say good folks, won't you?' An' then the dozen ses to the hull, ses they-'Yes! we'll do it in kindness to you all.' Then they all falls to an' eats an' drinks. jest like hungry wolves. An' while the hull world was eatin', an' a drinkin', an' a laughin', an' a dancin' for joy, I heer'd father hollerin' an' screamin' after 108 THIE MAGIC STAFF. me to come hum. An so I woke up an' found't was dark, an' 1 lost in them'are pokerish woods!" Imperceptible as the fall of dew was the displacement of my physical uneasiness by the fascination of her just-related dream. "Mlother!" exclaimed I, as we proceeded homeward, " what makes folks dream?" "Ah, that'are's what I can't say," returned she; c" but I allus believes that'tis Providence what does it for them he loves." "Does Prov'dence make you see the new moon over your left shoulder? or makes a fork fall tine foremost? or makes you see them shadders in the road?" "No, child," replied she, "them's bad omens -bad. signs -of bad things what's a goin' to happen to them what sees." "M3iother!" I still persisted, " you told me once all about good old Santa Claus, what nobody could n't see — an' you sed once that the doctor brought the dead baby to our house- an' I found out that't was n't jest so; now does n't you think that that'are white spook what Dave seen, an' the bad shadders in the road, an' the Prov'dence what makes you dream, be all jest alike -one jest like t' other?" The good woman was at once silent and sad. My questions evidently perplexed and non-plussed her mind. She walked gloomily on and on, making no reply, till we reached home. Before going to sleep that night, however, I coaxed her with all my might to tell me once again that curious story; which, as a reminiscence of my early years, lingers like an angel's song of glad tidings. SIGNS. AND THE THINGS SIGNIFED. 109 CHAPTER XVIII. SIDXINS, AND THE THINGS SIGNIFIED. "Ireason can not know What sense can neither feel nor thought conceive There is delusion in the world —and wo. And fear, and pain." IGNORANCE is man's strongest enemy; and the cause of his.greatest misfortunes. Besides the main trials this unblushing Monster tyrannically imposes upon his countless victims, he is the commander-in-chief of an innumerable host of minor forces; with which, at any time, he can attack the citadel of- individual happiness, and take the defenceless inmates into months and. years of diabolical captivity. The term " superstition" was the first word employed by the converted Roman Pagans to signify what moderns mean by the phrase "Religion" that is, to stand above the world, to put one's trust in whatsoever is supernatural, to doubt the known and rely confidingly upon the incomprehensible. But in the philosophical progress of recent centuries, the original meaning of the term has been changed to convey an idea of idle fancies, or a belief in the existence of imaginary personages, as ghosts, witches, imps, &c., who, by the superstitious are supposed to exert more or less influence on the character and destiny of human, beings. Now what is quite singular, and therefore remarkable, is, that Religion or- superstition or a belief in whatsoever is divine and celestial and eternally steadfast, and a faith in omens and signs and l t0 THE MIAGIC STAFF. changeful wonders -require the same class of mental faculties; which goes to establish the universally conceded fact, that the possession of knowledge makes all the difference there is between the religious opinions of the inhabitants of North America and those of the people of Lapland or the Sandwich Islands. It proves that every ordinary mind is superstitious unless it be refined and exalted by education. And the private mental history of hundreds serve to fix the fact, that, in sailing from the continent of Superstition to the harbor of true Religion, there is a strait (or narrow strip of water) that may be called Skepticism; in which the person is beset by tempestial gales from the shores of both hemispheres, but feels none of that beautiful repose which either form of faith sometimes so graciously bestows upon its faithful follower. My cherished mother was one of those very few persons who never doubt the incomprehensible. Her native faith was supported by irresistible evidence. She never saw the new moon over her left shoulder, never began anything on Friday, never dreamt about crossing muddy water or combing her hair, and never saw certain shadows in the distance, but the circumstance was in due time succeeded by some sort of domestic trouble; between which affliction and the signs, the believing woman never could detect the slightest discrepancy. Although the husband would refuse all credence, with his ejaculatory and significant "Poh!" yet she never swerved a hair's breadth in her own belief. From my present knowledge of spiritual things I am led to conclude, on retrospection, that my mother's ignorance of the subjective causes of several of her experiences, not only rendered her incapable of discriminating between the real and the imaginary, but also greatly increased her unhappiness and despondency. She was compelled by organization to "borrow trouble;" but although a righteous neighbor she would not, because she could not, return it. This was her omnipresent misfortune, as it is everybody's who remains in ignorance of psychological principles. She had real clairvoyance, and, as I think, real spirit intercourse. But not be SIGNS, AND THE THINGS SIGNIFIED. ] l ing able to distinguish between fact and fancy, her life became a meandering stream of trial, sadness, and nervous apprehensiveness. In order to show how the maternal faith was established by what was to her "irresistible evidence," I will proceed to chronicle a chapter of accidents and family misfortunes. .11 2 THE MAGIC STAFF. CHAPTER XIX. A CIHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. SHORTLY after the trading-excursion mentioned in foregoing pages, there happened a serious accident. It occurred thus: Our landlord's hired man was conveying husked corn from the field to the barn. Besides the oxen and cart, he was using the great lumber-wagon, the pole of which he had lashed to the two-wheeled conveyance, in order to transport a double load each time. 01O one of his trips he halted with both vehicles in the public road adjacent to our house. "Here's a chance to play ride horseback!" cried I. Unnoticed by the workman, I bestrode the wagon-pole behind the cart, and, with gleeful impatience, waited for the driver to exclaim, "Haw buck, gee bright —go'long!" The gladsome moment came; the oxen pulled the cart; this jerked the pole; and I, losing my balance, fell into the loaded wagon's track. I screamed. HI-earing which, the driver stopped the team suddenly, with the front wheel directly upon my waist! He started and stopped them again, with the back wheel resting its dead weight upon me, just as before! Another revolution forward released me; but I was taken to the house as one upon the verge of death. Hours subsequently, being restored to the use of my faculties, I asked my mother if I would die; when she replied: " No, child,'tain't so ordered. Providence is good to them what loves him. But A CIIAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. 113 you was hurt jest where I seen them black shadders." Thus fixing in her mind, and clinching there, the reliability of her pain ful presentiments. This severe accident left me such reminders as a weak back, a soreness in the sternunm-bone, a stiffness in the intercostal muscles, and a very sensitive stomach. A debilitated digestive system is still in my possession. The weakness and frailty that lingered through my breast ofttimes made an hour's sitting on the shoebench next to torture. But my energetic and wilful father, though never cruel in a physical way, would stoutly reject the explanation of my uneasiness, and say: " You're a laz, feller- that's the reason. You'll never earn your salt. What to do with such a young'Un I do n't know!" Although that accident, at the time of it, was a seeming evil, it turned out, as every other has or will, to be a " universal good." HIow so? Obviously, it unfitted me for being a useful disciple of St. Crispin; it made exposure to sun-heat unbearable -as I suffered from indigestion, which produced biliousness and headache -- and so rendered the usually healthy employment of agriculture repulsive and impossible; and, lastly, it curtailed my desire to eat heartily of any heavy substances. This was undoubtedly advantageous. Every domestic as well as public physiologist is well acquainted with the fact, that abstemiousness in diet has much to do in developing the intellectual faculties. Declaring this opinion, on one occasion, to a person who was extremely anxious to become clairvoyant, he asked: " Would you then advise me to get run over by a wagon loaded with corn?" To which I replied: " If you would not voluntarily throw yourself beneath the Juggernaut of your own physical appetites, and thus stultify the spiritual within you, the accident which I now celebra.te as embodying a good, would appear to you as a personal misfortune of no small importance. If, then, you wish to.be clearheaded, do n't get run over- especially not, by your own habitual intemperance and over-eating." 114'TPEE MIAGIC STAFF. Succeeding this bodily injury, I shivered through many weeks with fever-and-ague. But, getting well again, I was induced to accompany Reuben Kipps (a Quaker neighbor's son) to a distant school. Here, as I now vaguely recollect, I imbibed no lessons of instruction. I wondered greatly where all the children came from, who they belonged to, and where they were going after school was dismissed. I think I went two or three weeks, with several intervals of remaining at home; and got -among other things- a scolding, a black mark, a bad cold, and a penny primer full of pictures! This inaptitude for acquiring my letters, or even a good name for trying to, was another source of trouble to my solicitous mother, and fulfilled to a fraction one of her bad dreams! it was now midwinter. About this time my father, returning one evening from the village with his package of work, was seized with a kind of paralysis which caused him to fall in the snow, unable to rise or to make himself heard, while (as he relates) his raind was clear and conscious of his perishing condition. The poor man lay there all that night, wallowing and struggling in the snowbank, while our house was a: scene of painful watching and piteous lamentation. The neighbors brought him to us on the following morning, almost frozen. For a poor family, this was another great trouble. We all depended upon his daily-toil for our subsistence, and he was for many days quite disqualified to make any exertion. And mother, as usual, said "'t was jest what she expected from her bad dreams!" Not long after this we received intelligence that sister Eliza was left alone, penniless and nearly starving; that her young husband, Henry, had deserted'both her and his infant son, and departed to regions unknown; and, as a matter of course, that nmy fither must get his suffering datghter and grandchild, and bring them under his own roof for maintenance. This was accordingly done, much to our general disadvantage; but it served to bring true one of my mother's bad dreams! Chills-and-fever again invaded my young and debilitated body. A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. 115 Sickness, as the reader is well aware, is very troublesome and expensive in an impoverished family. It is too fiequently one of the worst signs of ignorance. I suffered long with the malady, even.till the opening spring. On one of my well days, when the active cordwainer was going out to separate our cow from her young calf, I accompanied him. Heroically the poor animal fought for the possession of her offspring. But father-having'the might and the right-battled the frantic creature with a club till she yielded; yet, seeing me standing at a little distance, the infuriated beast bowed her crazed head and plunged at me with terrific violence. Bounding to escape the blow of her sharp horns, I had the good luck to stumble, and her tremendous speed carried her whole body quite over me! Ere she turned for a second attack, my fearless father had rescued me from further danger. The psychological fright was so great a shock to my nervous system, that, between that day and this hour, I have not had any physical difficulty resembling fever-and-a,gue. Yet, I do not recommend this cure as a sovereign remedy for the troublesome disease; because it is not always entirely safe, neither is it convenient to bottle for transportation. Althoulgh I could not see any connecting link between the cowfright and my mother's bad dreams, yet she said that she was "expectin' somethin' to happen," and my narrow escape from physical death met that expectation exactly! Some time after this event, my quiet sister Julia Ann —who was now assisting at housework in the family of Peter De Garmo — returned home to relate a singular circumstance. She said: "I was a-sleepin' in the second story, or tryin' to sleep, when I heer'd a pecklin' right up ag'in the winder-pane, outside the room. Oh, how scared I was! But up I gits, an' looks out in the moonlight. Seein' nothin' there, I goes back to bed. No sooner was I under the clothes than I heer'd the same noise a,'in. I looked up, an' seen a white lamb peckin' with its fore-foot, tryfn' to come iz. Oh, I was real scared, for I know'd there was nothin' that the animal could stand on; an' so I tho't'twas a spook. But in a minute 116 THE MAGIC STAFF. it was n't there no more, an' I couldn't hardly sleep any that'are hull night. ~What d'you think't was, mother?" As the blessed mother listened, I shudderingly saw the wellknown look of Distance steal over her features, till her entire expression was like that of one lost to consciousness. But when Julia Ann asked her what it meant, she roused up and replied: " Oh,'tain't no use a-talkin' about such things, child; the meanin' ain't for you yit awhile." For several weeks after the narration of this vision, the seeress was pensive and desponding. Another circumstance of great importance, in my moral history, remains to be related in this chapter. The experience may be of use to parents, as well as to those who may hereafter come into that responsible'relation. One day while playing in the woodshed of our landlord's father, Willet M3arshall, my eye rested on a bit of bowed iron in the toolbox, which had once formed a portion of a saddle. It was a very ftnny-looking, toy, and I wished it was mine. At first I thought, " I'11 go andc ask Uncle Willet for it." But, as he. uniformly appeared cross and stiff toward: me, I could n't muster sufficient courage. Then I thought: "O pshaw! what's the use? IHe'll- never want that'are old! piece o' iron; he'll never miss it; and I want it every minute to play with." That seductive reasoning did the job; and I hastened home with the stolen toy! On enterinag, I must have looked very much ashamed and guilty; for the quick eye of my father caught the expression, and he peremptorily exclaimed:"Look a-here, you sir! Where'ye you been? What you been doing? What d' you get, over there?" Without hesitation, but in the midst of many tears, I freely confessed what I had done. " Stop tlhat bawling, you sir, or I'l1 give you something to bawl ibr!" "I Can't I keep the plaything, father?" I asked, with many impdirnents in my speech; " do n't yrou think I can keep it?" A CHIAPTER OF ACCIDENTS. 117 "Do n't dare to ask me that again," said he with stout severity, " or I'll thrash yout within an inch of your life l" MBy mother heard this trial, with a countenance expressive of anguish; but, for some private reason, she did not interfere. Disconsolate indeed was the maternal bosom. There was a humid ether between her eyes and mine. Something told me that she felt an inexpressible despair in the fear that I-her only son — was already on the highway to certain destruction. Hence, she could not conscientiously protect me; her words did not come to excuse my deed; and doubtless her mind recognised the justice of father's summary proceedings. Doffing his becrimed leatherapron, and donning his coat and hat, he said:"Now, you sir! keep that'are iron in your hand, and go with me.)" -Ie walked very fast, and uttered many hard things. i-e said that I was "idle, good-for-nothin', and mischievous!" But I did not altogether feel the truth of his epithets; therefore I could not respond "Amen." Thus I was hurried on back to the very toolbox whence the toy was purloined, and there the honest cordwainer compelled me to leave it; making me promise, on penalty of great punishment, that I would never again take what didn't belong to me."'Twas a mortifying ordeal. But that night I felt very happy and contented. My father's method sank deep in my moral organism; and I do not cnow that I have ever violated the promise he t/hen forced me to ma/ke! A course less prompt, less energetic, less impressive, might have engendered dangerous carelessness about matters of conscience. And who knows but that little circumstance, with the rigorous way I was treated, has saved me from those vices and crimes which so disfigure the biography of many intrinsically noble natures? A world of deformity and misdirection is open to every young mind; and a parent, it seems to me, can not be too prompt in wisely checking a child's departure friom the strait road of individual righteousness. 113 THI1E AT'AGIC STAFF. CHAPTER XX. THE GAMIBLER'S FIERY FATE. - " I recall My thoughts, and bid you look upon the nighlt." CERTAINLY I would not be deemed guilty of filial irreverence if I should say that, upon the railroad of our domestic experience, the restless and impetuous cordwainer was the only reliable locomotive. He would put on thle steam, blow his whistle, and admonish all hands to clear the track! On a shllort run, with a moderate load, he was a fine engine, and gave satisfaction to every passenger, till he began to let off steamrn- a proceeding whicL would have seemed normal and congenial enough, had it not been accompanied with an inconvenient amount of blinding smoke and burning cinders. In the spring of 1835, he got us all on the train, with the baggage and furniture, and landed us at another dTpo6t. If the reader is curious to know where it is, he can see it when he takes a drive from Hyde Park to Pine Plains. When passing the ample homestead and out-buildings of I-Iiram gMarshall, just look directly south, and observe a crumbling structure situated about six fur. longs from the public road. That is the very place where our triangle, with the implements for scanty housekeeping, was deposited by the mutable force aforesaid. Our conditions and comforts were distinctly on the decline. We found ourselves minus several items of property, especially our young and valuable cow. Why THE GA3MBLER'S FIERY FATE. 119 this move was made I can not remember. But I think it was done to bring father into closer proximity with his various pursuits, and to enable my mother to perform more days of remunerative labor in the neighbors' kitchens. In this sequestered and dilapidated dwelling my father erected a weaver's loom.'T was quite a spectacle! WAThen rainy weather drove him from off the farm, he would repair or manufacture shoes; and, when destitute of this employment, he would mount the loom, set the warp, and put in the filling, with enviable artistic success. In the branch called "quilling" I was occasionally of considerable assistance. But I was of more service to him, as he thought, in the faithful discharge of certain commissions. I refer to repeated errands, the burden whereof was a jug of cider! If one neighbor declined selling me a gallon to intoxicate my father, my orders were to go on till I obtained the desired quantity. It is with no little regret that I find these errands pictured on the canvass of M3emory. I trust the reader will be strong to save anybody's child from such memories; for the heavenly angels can not always stand between the young and those influences which contaminate. It was fortunate for me, however, that my taste was in no instance tempted by the inebriating beverage. The philantLroppic heart that tlhrobbed in my mother's bosom, together with her mysterious faculty to foretell the future, made her a favorite among the rural inhabitants. They appeared to enjoy a visit to our humble dwelling. Parties of unmarried persons would sometimes call and depart with expressions of delight. By the active help of such, we had a jolly "apple cut" one night, whichl concluded with a rustic dance. On another occasion, there.was what mother called a "quiltin'-party" in our house, which was succeeded by several novel amusements- such as fortunetelling, blind-man's buff, guessing riddles, playing the fiddle, telling anecdotes, and card-playing. But on the occasion of each of these assemblies, I remarked my nmother's reservation. When she 120 THE MAGIC STAFF. looked into the teacup, to tell some one's fortune, she invariably treated the operation as mere sport. And yet, being accustomed to her expressions, I could at times discern that look of Distance - a blankness and introspectiveness of vision —which made even her most ordinary verbal statements replete with an interest quite undefinable. In this connection I will relate an impressive circumstance. The card-playing entertainment became gradually attractive to me, although I did not participate in the game. But those who did take sides seemed to be so full of wit and joy, that I was induced to believe there must be something funny and bewitching lurking in the constitution of the pack which none but the players coul(l comprehend and enjoy. To test the validity of this thought, I one day went about among the young men of the neighborhood, and, on my own private responsibility, invited them to a cardparty at our house that very night. MIany accepted the invitation, and arrived at the appointed hour. Mly parents were astonished at the large assembly. The visitors said, "Your boy asked us to come and play cards here." Accordingly, the pictured folios were brought out, and the party were permitted to enjoy themselves just as if the invitation had emanated from headquarters. But I thouglht I saw that there was a recollection of a bad dream going on in my mother's brain, and that its fulfilment was near at hand. At length the young people departed, and we all retired. A cloud hung between the sad woman and my disturbed spirit. That night I prayed many, many times, in the silence of my heart, for immediate pardon and better luck. Finally, I slept. When I awoke next morning, the afflicted mother was smoking her pipe by the fire on the hearth. As soon as I got dressed, she approached me and said:"Now, me an' you must settle. What did you ask all them folks to come here for?" "'Cause I wanted to see'em play." THE GAMBLER'S FIERY FATE. 121 " VWhat did you get by them playin'?" lNothlin', but to see'em play high, low, jack, and the game," returned I with painful confusion. " What's in that to you?" " Nothin', only I want to see'em when they saves their Jack!"' "Oh, that's it, is it?" she returned. " Yes, mother,'tain't nothin' else," said I. "Well, I'll tell you how I'm a-goin' to save my Jack?" replied she calmly. In her right hand I observed the well-known pack of cards. "Now look," she continued; "I'11 let you see what's sure to happen to them what loves to play cards." While speaking thus, she laid the package directly in the midst of the fire! Holding my hand firmly, and riveting my attention upon the rapidly-consuming symbols, she exclaimed: "See that! In that burning pile is pieters of many grandees! There's the king an' queen o' spades, an' there's the king an' queen o' clubs, an' there's the king an' queen o' diamonds, an' there's the king an' queen o' hearts-an' there's the ace-spot, an' there's the dretful JAC K! Now, child, save'emr if you can!" There was a majestic dignity in the woman's manner, and a deep and magic strength in the meaning of her words, that startled me and went like lightning through my being. I trembled in every nerve. I was sick. at heart - very, very sick! But as she had commanded me to save the jack, I was forced to reply:"MBiother, I can't!'t is burnt almost out o' sight." "Oh, it is, is it?" said she triumphantly; "C then see in that jack what'll become of every man what lives by gamblin'! The good Providence can't do him no good: so the Evil One takes and puts him in the fire of destruction." It would require a more skilful pen than mine to portray the overwhelming horror of that conflagration to my young mind! I was lost to the obvious fact that only pieces of pictured paper were being consumed. As the flames leaped up and' danced around the cards, it seemed to me that great men and beautiful women were 6 122 THE MAGIC STAFF. actually going through the gambler's fiery ordeal. "Mother," I exclaimed, "don't scold so — I won't never play cards - I won't never do so no more!" Twenty-one years, full of temptation, have rolled by since that morning, with its remarkable'lesson. My perception of the Divine government —of how the good are rewarded and the evil punished-differs greatly from the plan suggested by the maternal companion of my early life. Yet I think that, essentially considered, she had a true knowledge of the inevitable mental sufferings and heartburnings of that misdirected class called gamblers. And it is with profound gratitude that I can retrace, one by one, my footsteps - contemplate my pathway up the mountains of the past -and see no instance whenr the pledge I made in that isolated dwelling has been broken. I Go TO SCHOOL. 123 ICHAPTER XXI. IN WHICH I GO TO SCHOOL. " And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school." ABOUT one mile east of Hyde Park village is a small cluster of dwellings, called Union Corners- that is to say, a wheelwright's shop, a blacksmith's shop, a contracted grocery, and a spacious groggery termed a " tavern," (by the imaginative a hotel,) for the accommodation and destruction of both wayfaring men and those who live within its deleterious atmosphere. Directly opposite this baneful resort, there stood (perhaps yet stands) a tenement of most unwholesome dimensions; with but two rooms, the first occupying the whole body of the structure, the second being quite as large, right overhead, but just under the rafters, and accessible by what might be termed a flight of ladder-stairs. Not a shade tree or shrub was there to shut out the cheerless and. ominous prospect of that publican's house. Neither did there exist the slightest obstruction to a free communication. Only space to the extent of six yards, and time to the amount of ninety seconds, served to draw a line of distinction between the inmates of the house and the interior of the groggery. Well, reader, while the spring spirit of 1836 was vivifying the ample fields of Dutchess county, we were moving into that narrow and dangerous dwelling. Within the light of the front window 121 T'IE MIAGIC STATFF. you might have seen my father practising his predominating profession. And in that contracted place, too, you could not fail to observe the sorrowing woman; binding shoes, mending clothes, and performing other labors without respite, for which by nature she was far less adapted than many merely physical ladies who adorn wealthy and fashionable homes. I was now in my tenth year; the first decade in an eternal life! I-lad you seen me, you might have said " I take this youngster to be somewhere in his seventh year." Deficient in almost every expression of bodily strength, as also in that energy of countenance which betokens a teachable intellect, I was at first regarded by our new acquaintances as a very good boy to have nothing to do with. Thanks to my parents, I was now sent to school. The teacher was a middle-aged lady, and very kind to the children. But with all her kindness and exertions, I could not be made to recollect and comprehend at the same time the letters and unity of the alphabet. At length, however, her place was occupied by a masculine teacher by the name of De Witt. I-e put me through the A-BC department with inconceivable speed —so rapid, indeed, -that, when I came out at the bottom letter, I invariably lost nearly all memory of the preceding sounds and connections. But I went forward, nevertheless, and got triumphantly into my a-b, abs. Shortly, however, this responsible teacher of the district-school was superseded by a religious-minded man, named Lacy. Under this gentleman's austere training and vigilant supervision, I progressed into spelling words of two syllables; but so badly and clumsily, that my perpendicular position at the foot of the class became a fixed fact! The great Napoleon never had a sentinel who stood his ground and guarded his outposts more faithfully. -Iy fundamental position, as logicians say, was well taken; nor do I remember that I had the misfortune to be displaced more than three or four times, and then only for a few minutes. But this teacher was quite gentle and patient with me, withal, anwl concluded to set me at the multiplication table. Ile I GO TO SCHOOL. 125 wishied to make me believe, through my understanding, that that table was laden with sumptuous articles for the juvenile intellect. He didn't convince me at all! Writing lessons came next. But the cramping of my thumb-joint, in order to hold the quill just as the other scholars did, had the effect to postpone my penmanship to a period remote and indefinite. Acting, as I supposed, on the master's suggestion, my father invested forty cents in a Pictorial Geography, authorized by the renowned Peter Parley. That unpretending volume captivated my eyes; and, perhaps, also, instructed my mind. The frontispiece is in itself a charm to children. Thlere is a comfortablyfurnished room, a cheerful fire crackling on the hearth, an elderly and fatherly gentleman reposing in an old armchair, his disabled foot resting on a more common one, with a company of storyloving juveniles crow~ding around, to induce the cosmopolite veteran to relate another travelling adventure —and, then, just below is the sentence, making one wish to be there also -" Take care there! take care, boys! if you run against my toe, I'11 not tell you another story!" The author employs the story-teller's phraseology, and presents his ideas in a pictorial way, almost irresistible to childhood and youth. By some means I was induced to memorize the few lines:<' The world is round, and like a ball Seems swinging in the air; A Isky extends around it all, And'stars are shining there." Buat I could not make myself recollect the remainder. In fact, my mother's memory and mine closely resembled each other. Neither could fix a recollection of words, dates, or names, so as to reproduce and use them. properly and exactly. MIap lessons, therefore, were almost utterly out of the question; as well as the names of various towns, villages, and cities. The map of the.world looked to me something like a cobweb into which the bookmaker had diumped lhere and there a mess of words, too Ilcard to be 126 THE IIAGIC STAFF. either spelled or spoken; and hence, notwithstanding the captivating influence of the pictures and images of houses and of strange people, I could not make any headway with my geographical studies. But here let me say that Peter Parley's (AMr. Goodrich's) geography for children is the only school-bookc I ever valued, cherished, or studiecl. I value it now, as I did not then, because it throws the attractions of imagination around the facts of the world, and imparts pleasure and instruction at once to the unfolding faculties. I have preserved that book as the only charm of the hours I spent in school. 3M[y eyes have looked the pictures almost out of sight. The beautiful dresses of the English, French, Scotch, &c., are worn almost threadbare. That book is my pyramid. The contents thereof, like so many embalmed mummies, serve as a link of connection between that year and this! Among the numerous scholars at the district-school, of either sex, I was never quite at ease. The boys were rough and harsh to play with, and seemed most happy when quarrelling; while the girls inspired me with an unconquerable shyness, a painful and embarrassing timidity. The result was that I found myself entirely without any agreeable associate. Several of the boys called me "gumpy;" a few girls called me "sleepy-head;" the former teacher called me "blockhead;" and my eldest sister called me " dummy." These epithets tended to increase the characteristics in me which suggested them; and so I grew no wiser or happier among those of my own years and circumstances. The code of honor among boys of a certain stamp is very remarkable. I will give an instance. One afternoon, just subsequent to the dismissal of the school, my father wished me to take a package of work to his boss in Hyde-Park. Procuring a very gentle old horse, belonging to -the venerable and generous Isaac Stoughtenburgh, I mounted and set out on the errand. It was about twilight when I arrived at the proper destination. The I GO TO SCHOOL. 127 return work not being quite prepared, I was obliged to remain outside near the store longer than I wished; for, to tell the truth, I had never been so far from home before without ample protection.:My only fear was the quarrelsome village-boys! I had no combative propensities of my own to gratify, no ambitious inclinations toward physical prowess, and I trembled to think of the cruelties that rowdyistic characters sometimes practise upon helpless urchins.'T was getting dark very fast. As I expected, the village-boys like so many young barbarians gathered around, as I stood on the sidewalk, to teaze and insult me. " Who be you, sonny?" asked one tauntingly. "Where d' you live when you're to hum?" shouted another. "What's your daddy's name?" said a third, as he run violently against -me, and knocked my cap into a mud-puddle. I answered them just as well as I could; making no show of resentment, as I felt none; only a shrinking timidity which they made fun of. I besought them not to injure me as I hadn't in jured them, and did n't mean to; at which they set up a mortifying hoot, and called me by names too vulgar to reiterate. They stepped on my toes, twitched my hat off many times, and otherwise indicated their savage desire to get me angry and resentful. At this moment of trial, I distinctly heard what sounded like my mother's voice calling me by name, as if she was seeing my peril from the upper window of some building! It strengthened and encouraged me to be very calm with my persecutors. A little resentment on my part, a show of rage and fight, would have been to them sufficient justification for striking me. But I thought thus: "If I should do what these boys do, I should be ashamed and afraid to go home to my mother." Thus thinlrng I did not feel revengeful, nor even unkind, toward my tormentors. And yet, contrary to the non-resistant doctrine that the peaceful soul is safe, one of the tantalizing band, more hasty and unprincipled than the rest, jumped against and knocked me down; and then, for no reason except that I was "a country pumpkin," and in the 128 THE MAGIC STAFF. village alone, he struck me many times with great violence, causing a hemorrhage at my nose and several sore places in my face Mand breast! But my interior bosom was not braised, and the face of my sp-irit was still radiant with kindness, at which I was myself greatly astonished. I wept to be sure; but't was for bodily suffering only. I told my mother all about it. She gave me an abundance of her approving smiles; and may wounds were soon healed. But there is a sequel to this apparently irrelevant incident, developing an important moral principle, to be unfolded in a future chapter. TY FATHl'ER AM ALCOHIIO, PART COMPAiNY.- 129 CHAPTER XXII. MYIT FATHIER AND ALCOIIOL PART COMPANY. " Strength is born In the deep silence of long-suffering hearts." A RUnI-SELLER may be just as honorable and philanthropic as at rum-drinker. Twenty-one years ago, and even now in some uhreflorecld places, the man whose daily occupation produced drinkers, paupers, gamblers, and victims fbr the prisons and the gallows, was considered by professing Christians and the masculine community in general, as being quite as respectably employed as other merchants and men of business. For example: I never heard any complaint about my father's intemperance, and the means by which it was induced, outside of our contracted domicil. Inside, the misery thereof was replete with the most painful concomitants. Look at the temptation! Leaning leisurely against the tavern window, with seductive smile and crowned with beads, was a redfaced chap - called Brandy! Next to him sat a loaferish, grinning, imbecile, watery-looking individual-with a very pale and sickly countenance —called Gin! Beyond the red-faced and bloated brandy decanter, you could see a lazy, filthy, swiney vagabond — too indolent to shine by candle-light and ashamed to open his fiendish eyes before honest people- called Whiskey! And besides these ruffians, there were other and lesser scoundrels who caused husbands to forget their wives, fathers to neglect their 6* 130 TIHE BIAGIC STAFi. children, brothers to insult their sisters, men to trample on the priceless innocence of virgin women - yes, good reader, a detachment of the alcoholic band of incendiaries who produce misfortunes beyond the power of words to describe, ctllcl be seen at all hours of every day in the window of the commodious tavern just opposite the cordwainer's hovel.'Twas first of January. The snow was deep; the weather extremely cold. Now and then two affectionate neighbors met, wished each other "Happy New-Year," and subsided into the bar-room to ratify the wish. Obtaining permission, I slung my unmated skates across my arm and sallied forth to find a strip of smooth ice. I enjoyed the sport for awhile, but the intense cold caused me soon to return. Passing the door of a debauched but friendly old dram-drinker, whom father well knew, I thought I would just step in and wish him happy new-year. I entered and did so. I-He was alone, dozing by a hot stove. H-Ie asked me to be seated. Presently the intoxicated man went to the closet, mixed some molasses with brandy, and, after drinking a portion himself, offered me the remainder. I tasted; and its sweetness refreshed and charmed my palate! Our folks could n't afford to let me have anything so sweet! And so I made the most of that New-Year's luxury; of which the gray-headed and unscrupulous drunkard gave me every few minutes.. I became remarkably social and loquacious. M[y present memory and judgment assure me that I talked like an unconscionable fool. My words, which indicated nothing, I laughed at heartily! What was worse, I did not realize that I was intoxicated. But when I arose to go home, then, alas! I knew too well my deplorable condition. The room spun like a top! Stove, chairs, tables, doors, windows, the old man, and all, reeled and rolled horizontally around me like so many millstones. I made a plunge for the street door; but it eluded my hand, and shot off to the other side of the apart. MY FATHER AND ALCOHOL PART COMPANY. 131 ment.. Now the floor began to wave up and down, bending like thin ice beneath my feet! What was to be done? The besotted old man was unable to aid me. In his recumbent position by the stove he had long since become incognizant of the mutations of surrounding circumstances. IIe was not favorable to rotation in office, while I became an anxious seeker for a permanent footing in society. A lucky thought struck me: to spring upon the door-latch next time it came around! As the room revolved —bringing the specific door within my grasp —I caught it with energy. Wasn't I glad? To reel and stagger through the narrow passage, and to plunge into a great snowbank outside, was comparatively an easy task. But to arise and go to my mother, t7iat I could not do! Only two things remained within my power: to groan and gasp in my frosty bed-weeping at my own calamity-and to shout feebly, "Oh, I'm so drunk! so drunk! so drunk!" I was suffering, perishing, and willing to die! Oh, the horrid mortification of that New-Year's day! MIly driveling lamentations —going up as they did on the clear air-finally brought me timely assistance; and I was forthwith carried home in a condition well nigh bestraught and insensible. The brandy and molasses —" black strap"-flowed out of my mouth, and, at first, gave my mother the impression that I had ruptured a blood-vessel while skating. But the well-known "odor" gave ample testimony as to the nature of my wound. Oh, how dangerous that wound! Dear reader! do you vote in favor of distilleries? Do yJ3u put in office men who treat and traffic with the ruffian-monster, Alcohol? Do you believe in granting a license to your neighbor? Will you put one man's pecuniary interest at deadly strife with the health, prosperity, and happiness of hundreds of families? Are you a friend of riots? Do you wish to increase the number of fatal accidents? Do you desire to build a railroad and run an express train from every man's door to asylums, poor-houses, prisons, gambling dens, and the scaffold? Do you cry "Down 132 THE MAGIC S'TAFF. with virtue, up with vice! down with happiness, up with misery?" Do you work to diminish the comforts, demolish the characters destroy the health, and shorten the lives of the people about you T Do you mean to sow the seeds of sorrow in the blood of myriads of children yet unborn? If not, then vote for a Harmonial government. If not, then work for the Era of Harmony on the Earth. Will you do so? We shall see; for no individual act, however private, is lost to the vast FUTURE! Gladly and gratefully do I record the fact, that the demonserpent, Alcohol, never got me fixed within its deadly embrace, save in this one instance; when the seductive hospitality of an inebriated old man was added to the larger freedom and unguarded liberty of a iNew-Year's day. Twenty years have elapsed since that disgusting experience, but this fiendish foe of man has not found the least refuge in my affection or judgment. And I verily believe that my prophetic mother perceived that it would not; for she manifested less anxiety and grief at this circumstance than at either of those trials already chronicled. Shortly after this, my quiet and tender sister Julia Ann, returned home very ill. HIer melancholy face was discolored with jaundice; and her deep-sunken eyes betokened a vital and mortal disease. Poor girl! I-low I pity her through the sympathy of memory! There she lay stretched on the bed of death, so very feverish and sensitive in every nerve; in the midst of all the housekeeping turmoil, and the- hammering of the shoemaker, within that one contracted and inadequate room. A physician was summoned, and her disease was treated, probably, with the usual skill; but no power on earth could keep her from soaring to the " House not built with hands," in which there are neither rich nor poor, but plenzty for all God's children! One night, as my mother sat watching by the bedside of the departing girl, I was made quite sad by observing in her eyes that 3 Y FATHER AND ALCOHOL PART COMPANY. 133 ominous vacant stare —that look of Distance-which I had long regarded as the forerunner of domestic misfortune. The suffering patient asked for something, but the maternal ear did not catch the sound thereof. This demonstrated the depth of her revery; which continued unbroken for several minutes.'When again she aroused to aid the sick girl, there was a calm resignation in her face, but in each eye there trembled a tear of sorrow. Retiring to the back window, and gazing out upon the frozen earth, she wept aloud. This expression of grief I did not comprlehend, and asked:"What makes you cry so, mother?" " Julia Ann is going to leave us, afore long," she replied. "How do you know that'are?" said I. "What makes you think so?" "'Cause," answered she, "I seen the little white lamb." "What- white lamb was it, mother?" "The same heavenly messenger what Julia Ann seen at Peter De Garmo's upper winder." "When d' you see it?" "To-night, jest after dark; when father went out to the tavern." "Why, mother!" I exclaimed; "did it really and truly come in this'ere room?" Yes, child, it slipped in when father went out." "What did the lamb do then?" " Why, I seen it walk on all-fours to the poor girl's'bedside; an' then it took hold of the quilts by its mouth, an' pulled them very gentle. "There!" ejaculated she, looking blankly at the door, as father entered — " there! the pretty lamb is gone away, an' I'm real'fraid't will take Julia Ann along." "What d' you see?" asked my father impatiently. "Oh,'t ain't nothin' to nobody but me," she replied; and tearfiully did that anxious, yet resigned, woman proceed to nurse and console the dying daughter. "Don't be a fiettin'," said father. "Do n't fiet about what 134 THE MAGIC STAFF. can't be helped. What can't be cured must be endured you know. As for me I'm ready for anything what's likely to happen." A few days subsequent to this conversation we followed the deserted body to the burying-ground. MSy parents and sister Eliza wept excessively at times; but, though I lamented to part -wit.h my relative, I could not shed tears. They said my grief was too deep for weeping. But the fact was, that joy overbalanced sorrow in my heart. A voice told me that my sister's present situation was to be envied and sought rather than grieved over; and I longed to tell our folks that, while I dreaded the dying process, I felt mysteriously drawn to the life which came afterward. But the graveyard was a terror! Those ghostly white marble posts and slabs, and the solemn sound of the bellwhich rung the knell of my sister's departure, conjured up unwholesome imaginations. And when the, sexton threw a few shovels of pebbles and cold earth upon the deposited coffin, there came back a sound so hollow, so subterraneous, so sepulchral, and heart-broken, that my very soul was harrowed up to the most doleful and repulsive ideas of death. After this, I feared to go without company through a churchyard at night. In fact, I could not conquer a disagreeable apprehensiveness whenever I slept alone in a dark room-a painful timidity —which lingered upon me until that glorious day which inaugurated the Era of my spiritual illumination. How well do I remember the dark and stormy night when the rum-drinkers, at the tavern across the road, brutally pushed my father into our front-door in a state of beastly intoxication. He was more absolutely in the enemy's power than I ever saw him before. I will not stop to portray the desolation that his condition spiead through the garden of my mother's heart. How every hope seemed crushed! How every struggling prayer seemed to be sent back unanswered upon its fountain source! 5MY FATHER AND. ALCOHOL PART COM1PANY..il;t, floowr every faintly-cherished expectation of "a better day" was crowned with the cypress wreath of death and disappointment! No! I wvill not presePt a picture of despair so appalling! Do you not see that we needed the power of some efficient Reformer? Verily, we needed the friendship and aid of a man whose mission was "To grapple with the fell destroyerThe Lethe draught that brutifies the soul; To banish from our home the peace-annoyer, And on our hearthstone dash the fatal bowl." -But I am about to record one of the most glorious examples of individual reformation. After this dreadful night my father never tasted alcohol again! The resolution to be "a temperance man," was taken and kept in the calm silence of his own heart! With the enemy full in view, with tempting associates all around him, and through weary months of deadly and desperate struggle with the foes in his own nature, lie gained this noble victory! For nearly forty years previous to this he was intoxicated frequently; and very much so about once a week while at Union Corners. Hence, toward the end of the next week my mother expected to witness another scene of desolation. But neither that drama, nor any part of it, was ever again enacted! There is hope, then, for the drunkard's wife! The calm, pure heavens are peopled with hosts of strong powers whose great sympathetic hearts beat, through all the intervening space, responsive to our every soul-born prayer for purification and righteousness. And, believe me-every such prayer is some day wisely answered. *1 THE LMAGIC( STAVV V. CHAPTER XXIII. INITIAL EXPERIENCES IN HYDE PARK. ONE of Belden Delamater's unpainted tenant-houses is (or was) situated on the post-road that leads the traveller directly through the village of Hyde Park, either toward New York or Albany. On the north, in close proximity, was Mr. Parker's bllacksmithshop. On the south was a much larger wood-frame residence, a rod further back from the highway —the families of the two houses drawing water from the same well. Into the former habitation we moved in the spring of 1837 —my father having secured permanent work in the journeyman department of John Hinchman's boot and shoe manufactory. I was now in my eleventh year. So far as the development of either body or mind was concerned, however, I was considerably behind most boys four or five years younger. Timid, sensitive, prone tc solitary rambles, and meditative at times, I was quite disinclined to seek the companionship of village-boys, or to participate in their rough-and-tumble sports. In view of this seeming apathy and worthlessness, I do not treasure up any unkindness toward my energetic and working father because of his frequent exclamation"You ain't worth your salt!" To which my maternal protector and ready advocate would reply: INITIAL EXPERIENCES IN HYDE PARK. 137 " Don't scold the boy! What can you expect of a child?" C "A child! Poll h! Before I got to that'are boy's age, I was bound out for my victuals and clothes," the father would rejoin, "and I do n't see that lhe's any better than I was. I won't bear it. He's old enough to help support himself.- You sir!" he continued, addressing himself to me, "' keep a sharp lookout for somebody whl.o wants a boy." Accordingly I went in quest of employment, and succeeded in procuring a situation with our landlord. He owned a large flour and plaster mill in the village, and wanted " a boy to tend hopper." Seated by the horizontal grinding-stones, my business was to see that the grain fell steadily from the containing-box above into the revolving pulverizers below. This monotonous occupation required not the least exercise of intellect, and scarcely none of my muscular system, save the right arm, and that too leisurely to keep one from dreaming and absent-mindedness. Although not more distant than an hour's walk from my mother's side, yet I could not resist the enervating melancholy of "homesickness." When I went to my sleeping-place in the land lord's garret, and got under the buffalo-skin for the night, my tlhoughts would fly to the dearest object I knew on earth-my mother! And now, somnambulism - more commonly called sleepwalkinig'-began to show itself in my nightly exercises. A thousand shadowy forms of wheels and revolving upright shafts would cover the entire surface of my brain. Besides those mill-works which I had seen during the day, I could perceive and comprehend the operation of new structures. Complete machines for splitting shingles, for grinding grains, for pulverizing plaster-stones, for sawing and planing boards, for doing the drudging kitchenwork usually imposed upon woman-these and several other very novel representations of mechanical improvements would weave themselves into the substance of my daily experiences - all brought together, and yet never confounded, during the silence of the benld. ing and brooding night. 138 TiHE MAGIC STAFF. The exceeding vividness and unfailing recurrence of these "a dreams," together with my almost irresistible propensity to tramp about and actualize theml during hours properly devoted to slumber and recuperation, soon fatigued and discouraged me; and hence, without asking permission to depart, I one day hastened homeward. On entering, my father, being at dinner, eyed me for a moment, and said"'What sent you home?" Not knowing how to explain, I replied, "'Cause, I couldn't stay no longer." " What the dogs is the reason you couldn't?"'"'Cause the plaster-mill hurts me - an' the flour gets me a-dreamin' —an' I'm'fraid to sleep up garret," replied I, much. disquieted and alarmed-fearing he would send me back without judgment or mercy. But, fortunate as ever, mother came to my justification and rescue, and said: " Oh, what can you expect of a child? How d' you klnow but the boy tells the truth? Let him stay home to-day, at tener rate; for to-morrow we'll know more about it." And thus I was permanently prevented from becoming a professional and practical miller. For weeks subsequent to this first absence from the parental presence, I tried to whittle out some of the mechanisms that had painted themselves upon my imagination, but without success. Father would persist in the declaration that I "hadn't gumption enough to make a whistle," and many times avowed his belief that my main trait was " laziness," combined with a fondness for play. Nevertheless, the tireless vigils of my somnambulic faculty kept me at various midnight employments. W~ithout artificial light, I would move about the little bedroom, never making a misstep, and use the penknife with entire success. These nocturnal exercises I did not remember on the subsequent morning; but I can now recall them, and make the record as if I was outwardly conscious at the time. My contrivances, however, were so sneered and jeered at by my father, that I kept them out of his sight; and INITIAL EXPERIENCES IN HYDE PARK. 139 finally abandoned them altogether, as being utterly worthless even as curious toys for children. About this time I formed the acquaintance of a notorious village, boy named " Bill," who was the terror of nearly every other youngster in that community. He was an apprentice to a wheelwright, whose manufactory was located a few rods south of our house. Like other folks's boys, I went into the wagon-making department for shavings to kindle fires. I had long dreaded the great risk of an encounter with this belligerent apprentice. At last he spied me, hastily filling my basket with-the desired kindlings. The boss being out, he fearlessly yelled:"Hey, there, you d-n turkey-buzzard! who sent you here? Tell me, you blunderin' lummix, or I'11 give,you a touch under the fifth rib!" With the greatest difficulty I replied, " Our folks." "Who's our folks?" he vigorously demanded. "Tell me, you lumberin' young cuss, or I'll hide you!" As well as I could, I told him who my parents were, and said coaxingly: " Please, don't hurt me! I won't come here no more, if you do n't want me to." "'Oh, go to thunder!" said he, smiling contemptuously, "and come back when you want more shavings. I wouldn't lick you! You're too big a. coward- too much of a spoony- altogether!" But when again I entered the shop, and found him alone, he was remarkably docile and inclined to ask me questions. He was my senior by some five years; and I looked upon him, through the strong colors of his pugnacious reputation, as being a person to fear and shun under all circumstances. His body was firmly and powerfully proportioned. His features were rather large, and somewhat irregular; but his eyes, though black and commanding, softened his entire countenance by the genial smile which they had the power to diffuse over its every lineament. In short, notwithstanding the fearful reports of this boy's fighting propensities, I could not help accepting him as my only out-door companion. 140 THE MAGIC STAFF. Sh6rtly after the commencement of our acquaintance, I introduced hirn to my parents and sister; and, contrary to my expectations, he was also quite agreeable to thenm. Subsequent to my first interview with this combative fellow, I never heard him utter a word of profanity, or propose a fight in the street. Of course, I was not his- constant associatc. But I did not hear any more reports of his quarrelsome enterprises. ATWhat could have wrought this change in his conduct? I know not. But this I believe, that he had the foundation of a good man under his outward characteristics. The timber sufficient to the erection of a moral temple was within him rough hewn, and his nature awaited the period when the true superstructure could be commenced. One warm summery day, while rambling together in Dr. Hoosack's beautiful park just north of the village, he said:"' Let's tlake a seat here —right under this'ere shady tree — for I want to tell you somethin'." Seating ourselves, he began: "There's one thing in my memory that troubles me more than all else what I ever did." "What is that, Bill?" I asked. "Why, hang it! the thing's foolish enough, like a bushel of other things I've done, but I can't get over it somehow." After a brief silence he continued: " And I never seen nobody I could tell it to before you come to live in HIIde Park." "' Well, Bill, you can tell me any' —thing, you know: I won't leak it out, never." (And yet, dear reader, here I am letting it all out into your confidence.) " Well,'t ain't nothin' worth a-mentionin'," said he; "but it is, though, or I would n't be a-thinkin' about it so." " Oh, go on, Bill," said I; "do n't stop ag'in." IIe proceeded: "About this time last year, I was mean enough to kick, an' cuff, an' lick a country-feller who had n't done hnothin' to us village-boys; an' I'11 be blamed if I hain't felt more sorrier alin' more madder at myself since thlan ever before." INITIAL EXPERIENCES IN HYDE PARK. 141 "Why, Bill I" exclaimed I, concealing my actual emotions, "did vonl really hurt him?" "Yes, and bad enough, too 1" "Didn't you know who the boy was?" I asked. "No!'T was dark almost afbre I heer'd the muss down tlhe street. When I got on the ground, I couldn't see his face hardly; but I pounded him like sixty, you'd better b'lieve." "Well, Bill," said I, " you need n't fret no more about that'are; for I am the boy what you hurt, but I do n't owe you no ill will!" "You!" shouted he with great surprise; "you that'are boy what I licked so like thun-" "Don't swear, Bill! Yes, I'm that'are same country-feller. But what makes you -so sorry about it, Bill?" "Well, now — ha! ha! By the powers of mud, if that hain't the most funniest thing yit! -Why, the reason I did n't feel right about the thing was, because you didn't get mad an' try to strike back! If you'd only done somethin' like that, I'd felt all right. But you didn't; an' what's more, you didn't act as if you felt mad at me at all —on'y cried tin' took on hard'cause you was hurt like thun- sixty." "Never mention it, Bill," said I affectionately; "I do n't feel hurt any now, you know - so what's the use?" "Well," said he, rising to return to the village, "I hayv'n't hit but two fellers under the fifth rib since that'are night, an' then'cause I couldn't be dared more'n once to do it. Now see here," continued he, "I'11 jest take odd spells out of my own time in the shop, an' make you a real first-rate peeler of a sled for next winter." Earnestly I assured him that he owed me nothing, but that the sled would be a rich present to possess. His promise was soon redeemed, and I kept for several years that carefully-constructed pledge of lasting friendship. And thus, dear reader, in the practice of self-control and non-resistance, we behold the ultimate dcevelopment of an impressive and salutary moral. Had I returne(l 142 THE MAGIC STAFF. blow for blow, or even indicated a disposition to violently oppose my antagonist, would he have been so deeply rebuked? ~Would a painful regret have lodged and wrestled in his soul? I think not. The beautiful lesson of this story reminds me of the poet's forcible assertion: "If men, instead of nursing pride, Would learn to hate it and abhor it; If more relied On Love to guide - The world would be the better for it!" A CURIOUT CASE OF WITCHCRAFT. 143 CHAPTER XXIV. A CURIOUS CASE OF WITCI-ICRAFTr. "Our superstitions twine Each with the next, until a line They weave, that through each varied stage Runs on from infancy to age, Linking the spring with summer weather, And chaining youth and years together." THn banishment of alcohol from our house was soon followed by substantial evidences of domestic prosperity. One step toward comfort and luxury was the purchasing of enough rag-carpeting to cover half of our main floor; another was, a new two-dollar shawl and a beautiful calico dress for mother; another, a warm cap and a pair of satinet pants for me; but the best of all was, the procuring of and paying for a fine-looking cow, whose snowwhite stream of daily benefaction flowed with great ease and uniform abundance. My mother seemed to place a great deal of natural affection upon this valuable creature, and felt a genuine pride in preparing marketable butter and selling the extra milk which was thus obtained. For many weeks everything in this respect went on swimmingly, except one slight circumstance which grieved my mother, and caused her to dream out one of those warnings of impending trouble. That circumstance was: the manifest jealousy of our next neighbors, from whose well we drew all our pure and sparkling water. These neighbors also owned a cow, less beautiful and less fountainous than ours; and they, too, made butter for the 144 THIE MIAGIC STATI:'. market, and sold morning's milk to some of the inhabitants. But our butter was the sweetest, and outr milk was the creamiest, and, as a matter of course, our customers were most numerous, and our stocking-foot purse received the most frequent accessions of iiltlly lucre. Both cows were pastured in the same meadow; and it wvRas ofttimes my business and pleasure to drive them -that is, our own noble animal, and our neighbor's merely ordinary "crittur"- to and firom the field every morning and night. But the green-eyed monster, jealousy, soon generated a bitter and unspeaking antagonism; and, as one result, the opposition cow was soon driven to and fro by a member of the opposition family. Things continued in this unsatisfactory state for some four weeks; during which no woman ever suffered more from vaccinationu tlian did my well-disposed and inoffensive mother. "She could n't help it, if our cow was the handsomest! Neither were the inmates of our house to blame if our cow did yield the most milk and produce the best butter!" In short, we were entirely innocent -do n't you think so, dear reader? Conditions, however, became every day more complicated and critical. In fact, a real crisis soon happened in our cow-pen, which served to bring my mother's dream almost true! One evening our unfailing quadruped would not give down a drop of milk! AMother tried every inducement. She climbed over the fence, pulled an armful of beautiful clover, and put it before the domesticated creature, but not a particle of gratitude was exhibited in the milky way. All further effort was postponed for the space of an hour; then resumed, but without success; and, lastly, was abandoned. At the usual hour on the morrow our friendly customers came; but the answer was, " Our cow won't give down no milk." So I drove her to the pasture as before, where she remained till brought home at night; when the same ominous fact was repeated. Not a drop of the sweet beverage could be obtained! 7Meanwhile, the opposition family got plenty of milk (such as it was!) from the opposition cow, and we had the mor A CURIOUS CASE OF WITCHCRAFT. 145 tification of seeing our patrons go and purchase it. On the suc, ceeding morning the milking operation again proved a failure; and from the evening's exertions my mother returned with a like defeat. Diiferent persons presented different theories to account for this. One said the cow had the horn distemper; another, that a snake had imbibed the milk during the day; another, that she had swallowed her cud; another, that she had a wolf in her tail; another, that there was a spasmodic contraction in the muscles of the udder. But each individual hypothesis was triumphantly exploded by each speculator successively making his own examination and applying his experimental remedy. The creature's horns were pronounced all right. The snake theory could not stand in view of the fact, that fromn day unto day her bag was greatly swollen and painfully distended with an abundance of its undiseharged secretion. The cud explanation was acknowledged worthless when her mouth revealed its presence there. The man wrho egotistically retailed the latter end doctrine was permanently shut up, on finding grounds for believing that the creature's wellformed caudal terminus was perfectly sound and useful; and, finally, the -muscular contraction postulate was just as completely refuted by mechanically depressing the animal's backl with a simultaneous attempt at milking. Not the least progress was made toward a satisfactory solution of the case. But there was one person whose fixed opinion remained unexpressed. That person was my mother. Her confidence in the supernatural, as I have heretofore said, had never been impaired or disturbed. Superstition seemed an inevitable concomitant of her genuine spiritual experiences. The-ticking of a harmless insect on the bedroom ceiling, the howling of some nervous dog at midnight, the running through. the house of a strange black cat, the striking of a clock weeks after it had ceased to record time, the sudden cracking of a looking-glass —any unusual sound or unexplained sight —were signs of approaching 7 146 THE MAGIC STAFF. changes and calamities in the affairs of our household. And, strange to tell, several just such mysterious things had been occurring through the summer months in our little domicil! In a word, my mother was a believer in charms, obsession, witchcraft, and sorcery. She admitted the alleged possibilities of the Black Art. The power of some persons to prevent cream turning into butter in a neighbor's churn, or to cause the transformation of the shape of one living thing into that of another, she did not doubt; and yet she seldom made these things subjects of conversation, Among my early recollections I can find but just one of her stories, concerning curious old women — "Who roamed the country far and near, Bewitched the children of the peasants; Dried up the cows and lamed the deer, And sucked the eggs and killed the pheasants." Foul mornings and four evenings did my mother, aided by various experimentors, try to obtain milk from our gentle and beautiful cow. Then, without qualification, she exclaimed"That are poor cretur'is possessed!"' What d' you mean, mother?" I asked. "I mean," she replied, lowering her voice to a distinct whisper, "that our poor cow is under a spell." "Poh I" ejaculated father, who had just returned from the shop, " I don't believe no such stuff as that!" Nothing daunted, however, my mother rallied to the encounter with home skepticism, somewhat as Bunyan's Christian did in the great valley where Apollyon straddled over the whole breadth of the way, and replied-" Nothin' else can make that poor thing act as she does." "Act how?" asked father. " Come out and see for yourself," she confidently answered, at the same time leading the way with milk-pail in hand. We all followed, and saw with amazement, that a: soon as mother tried to milk her, the afflicted animal, quiet before, was seized withl a A CURIOUS CASE OF WITCHCRAFT. 147 singular fienzy which rapidly induced a fantastic witch-dance! Yes, incredulous reader! I testify only of that which I actually witnessed. The poor beast literally lifted her feet quickly up and down, with a swaying motion, as if impelled by some demoniac musician invisible, while her eyes seemed like balls of fire that might almost inflame and burn her to death. And what made the case stronger and yet more aggravating, was this: as we turned to go into the house our eyes caught the gaze of our opposition neighbors! It really seemed that they looked amused, and even jeeringly triumphant, at the cow's pranks and our mutual misfortune. 3Mother's opinion (or belief') became forthwith infectious. We each shared her suspicions as to who. it was that had laid an infernal spell on the innocent animal. In the midst of the family deliberations, however, I asked if witches were not like Santa Clauses and such ghosts as Dave saw; but my interrogatory made no impression on the excited mother, whose anxiety about "losing the poor thing" was every minute growing more and more insupportable. After a semi-serious deliberation, it was unanimously resolved that father should go after a seventh son. He did so; and at length the witchmaster came. His solemn examination of the cow's condition was brief and mysterious. He first felt of the creature's nose, then punched her side with his thumb, and, lastly, which was quite logical, he twisted her tail a little, and then said W — What ails this crittur is more than I can say tonight." His test-prescription, however, and his directions for the disenchantment of the field in which the beast had been pastured, I distinctly remember. They were so remarkable that, under the circumstances, I think the record of them will be pardonable: "Watch and catch about a pint of the animal's urine - put it in an iron pan, with nine sharp sewing-needles — and, while boilinlg it, see who comes to your door MIeantime, you must take some 148 THE MAGIC STAFF. hair from the cow's cars, forehead, and tail —bore a hole in some tree in the meadow -put the hair into it, and seal it up." Saying this, the mysterious seventh son - with a truly remarkable combination of physical proportions and wizard-like features - departed, promising to return on the following morn. Father straightway disposed of the pasture business; and then, with all commendable vigilance, we took turns in waiting for the primary ingredient of that wonderful prescription. When obtained, the pan was carefully placed over the previously prepared fire. That fire seemed determined to do its duty. It was not confined within a black, prison-like, idiotic stove (as most stoves are), neither did it arise from some subterraneous heating apparatus (which suggests an idea of how Infernal regions may be kept at a high temperature); no, indeed! that fire burned briskly and beautifully in the proper place on the old-fashioned hearth, and threw its glowing light honestly out upon our awe-struck countenances. "A wood fire," said Cornelius Agrippa, " doth drive away dark spirits." Whether this assertion be true or false we did not know at the time, as neither had ever heard of the saying; but there did seem to be an intelligence in the prompt behavior of that fire, which imparted a sort of courage and confidence to each member of our domestic triangle. At this critical juncture, I will not stop to paint the horrifying thoughts awakened during that dread incantation! We were half-jovial and half-terrified. The magician's prescription was, doubtless, being administered through the air to somebody! But who could it be? There the great conjurer's testing-fluid was -bubbling, and simmering, and spirting, before our marvelling eyes! It was a dreaded and irresistible summons -far more certain than if served by an officer of justice. Yes, in that pan we beheld the master and magic spell that was to do one of two things: either break and remove the -subtler and weaker charm on our cow, or bring the malicious witch (or wizard) in person to our very door! If the latter, whence would come the sorceress? A CURIOUS CASE OF WITCHCRAFT. 149 And how would she travel? Perhaps,'t was a hideous monster -some dark, ghostly, demoniac being-who, "O'er bog, o'er steep, through straight, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swvims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies." What would happen, or how, was as yet all a speculative mystery. But the boiling and bubbling continued. Now and then a needle (there were nine in the pan) would come upon the liquid -would whirl and float on some bewitched bubble for a moment -and, then, down it would plunge into the sedimentary deposite beneath. Was that strange? MIother remarked it first; and then we each watched for another needle.'".ark i" exclaimed Eliza, "what's that a-knocking?" wye listened, and distinctly heard some gentle tapping at our kitchen-door. "Who'll go and open it?" asked Eliza: "that's the question!" The night had become very dark, and our employment made that darkness visible. Ever and anon while boiling the fluid, our cow would tramp about and bellow in the yard, close to the house! Yes, dear reader, we had the disenchanting prescription over the fire, when we heard that knocking at the door. How, then, could we receive a visiter? But the seventh son had said, " See who'll come to your door." In order, then, to obey directions some one must go and see who stood without! Didn't that require some courage? Aell, the stout-hearted cordwainer was not to be frightened "at such nonsense," and forth he proceeded to welcome the stranger in. What next? Nothing to alarm us; only an elderly lady, a recent boarder of the family who owned the opposition cow; and nothing more. "What d' you wish?" asked my father good-naturedly. "Only to borrow a teaspoonful of salt," she tremulously replied; "I'll return it to-morrow." Oh, to be sure," returned mother, with characteristic promptness to accommodate a neighbor; and, well nigh forgetting all her 150 THE MAGIC STAFF. suspicions, she placed the salt in the old woman's cup, and smil lingly said —" You may have it, an' welcome." By this time the incantation was over! The marvellous liquid had evaporated; and the nine needles, having good eyes, looked just as sharp as ever. Therefore, without further experiment or controversy, we retired for the night, sorrowing for the distress of our domestic favorite; but laughing also at the ridiculousness of the bare idea that the harmless and uniformly well-behaved old lady was the witch we sought to exorcise. And yet, it was so very strange! Shortly after our breakfast next morning, the disenchanter entered, and interrogated:' "What did you do?" " Jest as you sed, an' told me," replied mother. " But nothin' happened." 6Didn't anybody call during the boiling operation?" inquired the seventh son. 3Mother then informed him of the ordinary circumstance, to which he hastily replied: " You should n't have given her the salt." Who can imagine our confusion almost consternation - when the man thus reprimanded my mother for her indiscretion.. "M3Iercy save us!" she exclaimed, thinking, no doubt, that she had unconsciously put the long end of the lever into the hands of our opposition neighbors. They again had the advantage and we were the victims! MBother took tle pail, and went out to try the milking experiment once more. There came a small stream of milk, but a less gleam of hope; for the lacteal excretions were disgustingly mixed with blood and mucus. Ascertaining that the salt had been given to the old woman, the ccnjurer, planting himself on the dignity of his reputation, grimly preceded my mother into the yard, and instituted a more careful examination of the animal's real condition; while I occupied myself, at this investigation, in observing the changes in his fea A CURIOUS CASE OF WITCHCRAFT. 451 tures. IIis face was this moment ridiculously solemn; next it was gathered up into knotty wrinkles; then every muscle seemed to be puckered up on one side and elongated on the other; but, finally, with a voice made low and coarse by the absence of true intelligence, he said: "This'ere cow of yourn is diseased; and my'pinion is, you might as well fat her for the market." "Diseased 1" exclaimed mother, "where is the poor thing diseased?" "6 This crittur has the horn-distemper," replied the man,'" an' a wolf in her tail. No mistake, marm —that's just what ails her." "What! both disorders at once," muttered my father incredulously. "' I doubt that any how." "I'll satisfy you," confidently replied the wizard, "if you'll jest let me bore her horn and cut her tail." This more rational test agreed to, the gimlet and knife were furnished; and the cow-doctor (before a witch-finder) soon demonstrated the accuracy of his recent affirmations. Therefore, as the kindest act now possible, the suffering animal was soon despatched by tlh: unerring blow of an experienced arm. Thus we see how much trouble a little scientific knowledge, applied at the first, would have saved this humble family: as it would, no doubt, hundreds of others, who are now beclouded and well-nigh demented by common superstitions. The fantastic movements of the distressed beast, with these two previouslyundiscovered diseases upon her, were entirely natural; as were also the peculiar coincidences which we construed into events of supernatural significance. The unwholesome effect of this case of superstition did lnot pass away for several months. I remember how mortified my mother felt-how ashamed and penitent we all were over the silliness and injustice of the imputation. The proceedings of that night of incantation we managed to keep very private. Indeed, the whole experience we sought to bury in the tomb of oblivion. But the opposition neighbors with the opposition cow did not 15~3' THE MAGIC STAFF. become wholly disentchanted of a tendency to antagonism, until the resident. clergyman (of the Dutch Reformed Church) was called in to exert the magic of his influence upon them. The closing up of that valuable fountain of rich milk and sweet butter, was a serious loss to a struggling family; but, thanks to the terzperate cordwainer, we soon possessed another cow, and still other evidences of domestic prosperity. OTHER EPISODES IN THIS HISTORY. i.r)f' CHAPTER XXV. OTHER EPISODES IN TIiIS IISTORY. ABOUT this time an Israelitish merchant visited our villag., with the avowed intention of opening there a "branch store" of dry goods, groceries, and a general assortment of useful articles ranging, with nicely-shaded gradations, from a case of jews-harps to a bale of brocade silks, from a toy wheelbarrow to glass and china ware the most beautiful. Having nothing to do, (which was the only thing I could work at without bungling,) I endeavored to make myself as useful as possible in assisting the clerk to open and dispose of his goods in the building which had been secured by the merchant. This agreeable gentleman liking my voluntary performance, engaged me for a few shillings per week to remain with and help the young man, to whom the business had been intrusted. While unpacking, arranging, and classifying the goods, I was pronounced a satisfactory subordinate and co-laborer. But when the people began to ask the price of certain articles, then it was that I tumbled from my lofty position down to the comm6n level of those whose education had been neglected. Myv computing faculties were obtuse in the extreme. I could n't figure up even a short catalogue of prices. And my incapacity became still more apparent when fractions of dollars had to be deducted from or multiplied into a customer's bill. Neither could I give the correct name to any unusual description of merchandise. Add to this a conspicuous lack of vivacity and gracefulness-nay, an awkward l;a0I:- THIE MrAGIC STAT'. and clumsy habit of saying and doing things-and you may readily anticipate my discharge from that establishment. PBefore I left, however, my mind was freed of an unavoidable prejudice whichI had unconsciously imbibed against the Jews. While the store was being arranged for business, I would many times hear, when going to and fro for my meals, such reproachful speeches as: "A Jew'll cheat you out o' your eyes!" "The Israelites is under the cuss of God." "I would n't trust a Jew with brickbats," &c., &c. Nevertheless, during several weeks of constant observation and familiarity with this Jewish clerk, I never heard the slightest snggestion of cheating, nor did I ever receive any directions from him to give a purchaser wrong impressions of the real quality or true price of any saleable article. But I can not record as good a testimony in favor of several of those who jeered and scoffed at the gentlemanly Hebrew merchant. "W hat to do with that boy, I do n't know!" said father, frowning with impatience, as I related to mother why the storekeeper would n't keep me. "Why, the boy wants more schoolin'," replied my mother encouragingly. "TIe can't never keep no place in no store if he can't say his figures, you know." This reasoning was sound, and, in harmony therewith, I was sent to school. FWhen the pleasant teacher, a lady, asked my age, I replied,'"In my twelfth year." To her question about how long I had attended any school, I said,'; Only a few weeks at Union Corners." 7When she wished to know precisely where I stood in my studies, I responded, "At the foot of the spellin' class." She desired to ascertain what I had learned, and I answered —" In the spellin'-book I got to'baker,' an' in the g'ography all the way thro' every picture." Whereupon she gave me a lesson in the English Reader, which, after two clays' hard spelling, I did commit to her satisfaction. Subsequently, I was placed at minor studies and made some permanent progress up the hill of useful knowledge. OTHER EPISODES IN THIS HISTORY. 155 By the spring of 1838, I had gone through the lesser portions of the multiplication table, but I invariably encountered difficult cbstructions whenever I reached "nine times nine." In ciphering I waded through all the problems of simple and compound addition. In spelling words of not more than three syllables I had consider.able vexation and trouble. In writing I made some visible advancement. I could and did describe hooks and trammels after the teacher's examples. In the orthography class there were about a dozen children, considerably younger and smaller than 1; yet I must confess that, during the most of the time, I came within ten or eleven of standing triumphantly at their head! WVhen the days of absence are deducted, I think the amount of my schooling there did not, altogether, exceed six weeks. Gloomily I left school, without any promotion consonant with my years. Not a laurel wreath could be seen upon my fevered brow. The fetters of inwrought ignorance seemed to bind my soul to the earth. The foot of a great mountain appeared to rest upon my youthful neck. MIy desolated head was covered with the cap of no climax. The car of Time sped by, conveying onward my jolly school-mates, and left me crying at the Blockhead Station. The bright scholars seemed to embrace each golden opportunity without blushing; while I, willing to buckle on the armor. of a conqueror, always neglected the spur of the moment. The wings of the morning never shook out a quill for my chirographical benefit. Neither did my scholarship sail in the winds of adversity like the crafts of other boys. And so I was desponding. In the early springtime of that year I felt the symptoms of a hepatic and gastric disease. A bilious fever centred and burned upon my forehead, and my stomach rejected all forms of nutrition. I grew rapidly very sick, which was a sad misfortune; but another was soon added, that is, an allopathic physician. For several days and nights what little of substantial Nat-ure there lwas in rne, 156 THE MAGIC STAFF. fought bravely and without cessation. In spite of leech and lancet, however, in spite of subtile poisons and murderous calomel, I won the battle and felt myself victorious! But my previously impaired frame was yet more shaken and disabled. It bore marks of violence. 31y arm was weakened with a wound from the enemy's lance. The beautiful present which I had received from the hand of Mother-Nature —a set of pure and pearly teeth —was colored, and cracked, and opened to the march of General Decay, whose chief officer is called Toothache, and whose trials in Court-Martial are conducted by Judge Turnkey and the lesser tools of torture. My tongue silently lay in the midst of carnage-nearly slain on the battle-plain-full of gashes and bleeding pores made by the spear and pike of that valiant IKnight of the Cross, known throughout the world as Sir Calomel. 3My hands were worn away and palsied; my knees kept up the strife by smiting each other on the least exertion; my feet would not obey their head and master; but, amid all, my innermost spirit was stronger than before. " Your son must not drink cold water, -ma'am," said the visiting physician to my solicitous mother. "His case is a very critical one. The least cold taken at this stage of salivation, ma'am, will endanger his life." The careful reader is already aware of my lively dread of dying. The thought of ceasing to breathe-of closing my eyes for ever-of being put in a coffin-of that confinement in the ground —was inexpressibly horrible. And yet, notwithstanding this awful dread added to the physician's emphatic warning, I seemed to hear something whispering: " You-mazy — drinkl-t he szveet —water-of-mctple-trees." At first I thought it was but a fever dream; the suggestions of my burning thirst; a hint from the liquid fire that coursed wildly through my veins. But't was twice whispered between mid-day and evening. The breathing thereof was refreshingly welcome. And I could not longer restrain myself. The voice was like imagination's -very low, clear OTHER EPISODES iN THIS HISTORY. 157 sweet, dreamy, influential. Hesitating no more, I told mother every word of my supposed dream — tnd insisted that, early in the next morning's dawn, I must drink the sap of sugar-maple. She believed with me, cherished my request, and obtained from the tapped trees a pailful of their drippings. Freely and fearlessly-yea, in perfect faith- I drank of the cooling water! What followed this draught? A substantial convalescence; and, in a few weeks, physical health and hopefulness. Shortly after the conclusion of this illness, I obtained a situation in the household of W. W. Woodworth, a lawyer of acknowledged abilities and extensive reputation. He was, I believe, widely respected for the refinement and democracy of his hospitality; and not less for his manly bearing and legal skill whenever his talents were called into public action. He ascended from the position of private counsellor-at-law to that of judge, and was afterward elected to a seat in the National Congress. This humane gentleman, knowing that our family was in somewhat straitened circumstances, interested himself in our behalf and assigned to me the responsible position of porter at his residence. I tried to serve him with faithfulness and integrity. But my inaptitude and constitutional clumsiness-each finger being as stiff as a thumb, and each foot as awkward as that of a clodhopper —soon made me an unpopular candidate for that honorable profession. These personal disqualifications, however, did not impair the lawyer's friendship. IHe was an agent for the aristocratic family and widow of Dr. Iossack; by which means I was-removed from his house to their great farm north of the village. MIy principal employment while there was that of a shepherd —or watcher and keeper of about seventy head of cattle, that grazed upon the beautiful park, environing the horticultural gardens and the magnificent mansion of the widow. Could the space be spared, I would here digress sufficiently t, 158 TlE MIAGIC STAFF. paint the gorgeous scenery that lies upon the spectator's eye while viewing the H-Iudson from the heighllts just west of the lady's attractive country residence. It is diversified and beautiful in every direction. 3My imagination can now luxuriate in the charms of that well-remembered pastoral experience; but, while passing through it, I enjoyed nothing worth recording —save the sight of my punctual mother wading every morning through the sulrging and dewy grass, with a tin-pail containing my breakfast, and the encouraging words that ever and anon flowed from her heart's deep fountain into mine. All the nabobs and aristocratic families that lived in such princely magnificence along the romantic banks of the Hudson, "worshipped" in the Episcopal church, of which the Rev. M3r. Sherwood was the esteemed and established pastor.. Judge Woodworth's family bowed before that altar; and I, being in his employ, went to the same manger for religious nutriment. A very devout, proper, discreet, even-mannered lady, manifested genuine interest in my sabbath exercises. She gave me a lesson to memorize, and lent me a Sunday-school book embellished with many pictures. By dint of swerveless perseverance, I perfectly committed, as I supposed, the catechismal answers; and, on the next sab-. bath, presented myself at the proper place, in a proper state of mind, to deliver them in a proper manner, to the proper lady. "Who made you?" asked the devout and precise lady.' God," I repliedcl-inwardly delighted that I had not forgotten my 3M1aker's Christian name. "Who redeemed you?" she softly and sweetly asked. The meaning of the word "' redeemed" dwelt rather vaguely in my brain, and caused me for a moment to forget the printed answer; but, quickly gathering my thoughts into form, I repliedChrist." How glad I Was that she did not question me as to the precise time when my redemption happened! If she had, I felt sure that my memory would have failed me. OTHER EPISODES IN THIS HISTORY. 1.59