The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 09, No. 51, January, 1862

to the charges which have been made against him. Our purpose is the more humble one of presenting a hasty sketch of the expedition to

issolution. The enemy, knowing that the term for which our soldiers had been enlisted was near its close, began offensive movements along their whole line. Cairo, Bird's Point, Ironton, and Springfield were simultaneously threaten

y and skilful people. But in the West there was neither a disciplined militia nor trained mechanics. Men, indeed, brave, earnest, patriotic men, were plenty,-men who appreciated the magnitude and importance of the task before them, and who were confident of their ability to accomplish it. But to introduce order into their tumultuous ranks, to place arms in their eager hands, to clothe and feed them, to provide them with transportation and equipage for the march, and inspire them with confidence for the siege and the battle,-this labor the General, almost unaided, was called upon to perform. Like all the rest of our generals, he was without experience in military affairs of such magnitude and urgency, and he was compelled to rely chiefly upon the assistance of men

e incidents of the march to Springfield, as it is gi

LOUIS T

e officers have been sitting at their desks, booted and spurred, awaiting the order for their departure. It is not unlikely that the suspense in which they are held and the constant condition of readiness which is require

r we were all gathered at the depot. The General drove down entirely unattended. Most of the train was occupied by a battalion of sharp-shooters, but in the rear car the General and his staff found seats. The day was cloudy and damp; there was no one to say farewell; and

ept the passage clear to the dining-room, and through an avenue of muskets, and amidst the shouts of an enthusiastic little crowd, the General passed into a room decorated with flowers, through the centre of which was stretched a table groaning under the weight of delicious fruits and smoking viands. With little ceremony the hungry company seated themselves, and vigorously assailed the tempting array, quite unconscious of the curious glances of a motley assemblage of men, women, and children who assisted at the entertainment. The day had been dark, the journey dull, and the people we had seen silent and sullen; but here was a welcome, the hearty, generous welcome of sympathizing friends, who saw in their guests the defenders of th

, with which our kind friends of Hermann tempt and tantalize our satiated palates, and once more set forth after the w

losely following, left the car. But leaving the train was a somewhat more difficult matter. We went along-side the train, over the train, under the train, but still those cars seemed to surround us like a corral. We at length outflanked the train, but still failed to extricate ourselves from the labyrinth. Informed, or rather deluded, by the "lantern dimly burning," we floundered into ditches and scrambled out of them, we waded mud-pu

mp. Of course the best houses in the place are at our disposal, but it is wisel

ondon beggars did with their old clothes. One should go to Missouri to see what the New-York beggars do with their old clothes. But it is not the dress alone. Such vacant, listless faces, with laziness written in every line, and ignorance seated

able hill. Behind us the hill rises a hundred feet or more, shutting us in from the south; in front, to the north, the hill inclines to

is getting used to the saddle is no light matter for the civilian spoiled by years of ease and comfort. But the General gives all his officers plenty of horseback discipline. Then there is the broadsword exercise to fill up the idle time. Evening is the festive hour in camp; though I judge, from what I have seen and heard, that our camp has little of the gayety which is commonly associated with the soldier's life. We are too busy for merrymaking, but in the evening there are pleasant little circles around the fires or in the snug tents. There are old campaigners among us, men who have served in Mexico and Utah, and others whose lives have been passed upon the Plains; they tell us campaign stories, and teach the green hands the slang and the airs of the camp. But the unfailing amusement is

sounded the long roll. We started from our beds, with frantic haste buckled on swords, spurs, and pistols, hurried servants after the horses, and hastened to report for duty to the General. The officer who was

before, leaning upon his sword in front of his tent. But, alas for the reputation of our mess, not one of its number appeared. In complete unconsciousness of danger or duty, we slept on. Colonel S. said he heard "the music, bu

noon drill. In the soft light of these golden days we see the long blue lines, silver-tipped, wheel and turn, scatter and form, upon the brown hill-sides. Now the slopes are dotted with skir

sm does not go farther than this. These people represent that three-fourths of the inhabitants of Miller County are loyal. The General probably thinks, if this be true, they ought to be able to take care of Johnson's men. But a suggestion that they should defend their own homes and families astonishes our Missouri friends. General Lyon established Home-Guards throughout the State, and armed them with several thousand Springfield muskets taken from the ar

r. It is the best dinner I have eaten these three months. I have campaigned it a good deal this summer upon three ears of roast corn a day." He added,-"I never have received a cent of pay. None of us have. We never expect to receive any." This captain has already seen considerable service. He was at Booneville, Carthage, Wilson's Creek, and Lexington. His descriptions of these engagements were animated and interesting, his point of view presenting matters in a novel light.

ng, at seven o'clock, we began to break camp. There was no little trouble and confusion in lowering the tents and packing the wagons. It took us

r. The first company of the guard act as advance-guard; then comes the General, followed by his staff, riding by twos, according to rank; the other two companies of the guard come next. The sharp-shooters accompany and protect the train. Our route l

he kitchen-fires are lighted, guardsmen are scattered along the banks of the stream bathing, the wagons roll heavily over the prairie and are drawn up along the edge of the wood, tents are raised, tent-furniture is hastily

though he has had the prudence not to take up arms. By way of a slight punishment, the General has annoyed the

ght us how completely an army is tied to the wheels of the wagons. Tell a general how fast the train can travel and he will know how long the journey will be. We passed our wagons in a terrible pligh

ound. California is a mean, thriftless village; there are no trees shading the cottages, no shrubbe

ll house, in front of which a fat little negro-girl was drawing a buc

have a dri

, but had not been there a minute before the mistress ran out, with suspicion in her face

s your h

f a little

y of informing us that h

chief house of the place. A bevy of maidens stood at t

bread?" was our rath

you some by sundown," was the answe

e proved to be a Virginian, who still che

ads behind us, and now we pass over beautiful little prairies, bordered by forests blazing with the crimson and gold of autumn. The day's ride has been delightful, the atmosphere soft and warm, the sky cloudless, and the prairie firm and hard under our horses' feet. We passed several regiments on the road, who received the General with unbounded enthusiasm; and

ained violently, and the prairie upon which we are encamped is a sea of black m

important positions upon this line and return to St. Louis and prepare for the expedition down the river? The General is silent, his reserve

les except such as it will excite the enthusiasm of the troops to overcome. Therefore the General has determined to pursue Price until he catches him. He can march faster than we can now, but we shall soon be able to move faster than it is possible for him to do. The Rebels have no base of operations from which to draw supplies; they depend entirely upon foraging; and for this reason Price has to make long halts wherever he finds mills, and grind the flour. He is so deficient in equipage, also, that it will be impossible for him to carry his troops over great distances. But we can safely calculate that Price and Rains will not leave the State; their followers are enlisted for six months, and are already becoming discontented at their continued retreat, an

ess defeated in the field, the enterprise will be successful. No hardships or perils can daunt

which are rifled. The infantry is generally well, though not uniformly armed. But the cavalry is very badly armed. Colonel Carr's regiment has no sabres, except for the commissioned and non-commissioned officers. The men carry Hall's

n us on the Osage, and Wyman is to bring his com

dered to engage the enemy as soon as we catch Price; and if the Rebels retreat, they are to pursue them. Thus our expedition is part

, Pope from his present position in the direction of Booneville, and Sigel from Sedalia. We are to cross th

mules have been brought in. This property is all appraised, and when taken from Union men it is paid for. In doubtful cases a certificate is given to the owner, which recites

animals could be driven. Passing from the open plain into a forest, the whole cortege dashed over a very rough road with but little slackening of our pace; nor did we draw rein until we reached Syracuse. A few moments were passed in the interchange of the usual civilities, and we then went a mile farther on, to a large prairie upon which the division was drawn up. McKinstry has the flower of the army. He has in his ranks some regular infantry, cavalry, and artillery, and among his subordinate officers are Totten, Steele, Kelton, and Stanley, all distinguished in the regu

of them when half a dozen men and three women mounted their horses and started at full speed towards the northeast, each man leading a horse. The General ordered some of the body-guard to pursue and try to stop the fugitives. We eagerly watched the chase. A narrow valley separated us from the elevation upon which the farm-house stood, and a small stream with low banks ran through the bottom of t

stretches an undulating prairie, separated from us by a valley, into which our camping-ground subsides with a mild declivity; to the north is a range of low hills, their

rses, the huge white-topped wagons,-and a thousand fires gleam through the faint moonlight. Our band is playing near the General's quarters, its strains are echoed by a score of regimental bands, and their music is mingled with the numberless noises of camp, the hum of voices, the laughter from the groups

ore us were struggling through the mire and over the rocks. We dashed past them at a fast trot, and in half an hour came upon a high prairie. The prairies of Southern Missouri are not large and flat, like the monotonous levels of

n of prairies surrounded by wooded hills. As we go south, the color

longing to see an American countenance. I found none, but caught sight of one arch-devil-may-care Irish face. I doubt whether ther

ind mother,-at which allusion, the blind mother tottered down the walk and took a position in the rear of the attacking party,-that they had two orphan girls, the children of a deceased sister, and the orphans had lost their second father. The assailants were here reinforced by the two orphan girls. She protested that her husband was loy

ling with age, stood behind, leaning upon a staff. Her earnestness far surpassed that of Mrs. Rutherford. She wrung her hands, and could hardly speak for her tears. She seized the General's hand and entr

ofess to be Union men, but they are not in arms for the Union, and a Federal general now asks of them that they shall help the army for a

wagons were far behind. A neighboring farm-house afforded the General and a few of

longest march, making twenty-five miles, a

some than riding alone, but so it undeniably is. Men who would think

reased by the spectacles he always wears. His figure is light, active, and graceful, and he is an excellent horseman. The country has few better heads than his. Always on the alert, he is full of resources, and no difficulties daunt him. Planter, Pope, and McKinstry are behind, wai

and the ascent up the farther bank is steep and rocky. It will not answer to leave in our rear this river, liable to be changed by a night's rain into a fierce torrent, with no other means of crossing it than the rickety ferry. A bridge must at once be built, strong and firm, a safe road for the army in case of disaster. So decid

f the town; but the General clings to his tent. Our mess is quartered in the house of the county judge, w

nd fashioned into a bridge, as well as the tools and the skill at command will permit. Details are already told off from the

ht and by day the work goes on, and now the long black shape is striding slowly across the

e no arms. The rest carry everything, from double-barrelled shot-guns to the Springfield muskets taken from the Home-Guards. They load their shot-guns with a Minié-ball and two buck-shot, and those who have had experience say that at one hundred yards they are very effective weapons. Th

judgment and self-command. But all speak well of Price. No one can doubt that he is a man of unusual energy and a

red, but Pope reported himself last nig

ys a firm road has been thrown across the river, over which our troops may pass in a day. The Ge

IN, ESQ., TO MR

HOMER WILBUR, A.M., inclo

15th Nov

es (dolus latet in generalibus, there is deceit in the most of them) and thereafter are wonderfully preserved long enough to append their signatures to testimonials in the diurnal and hebdomadal prints. I say not this as covertly glancing at the authours of certain manuscripts which have been submitted to my literary judgment, (though an epick in twenty-four books on the "Taking of Jericho" might, save for the prudent forethought of Mrs. Wilbur in secreting the same just as I had arrived beneath the walls and was beginning a catalogue of the various horns and their blowers, too ambitiously emulous in longanimity of Homer's list of ships, might, I say, have rendered frustrate any hope I could entertain vacare Musis for the small remainder of my days,) but only further to secure myself against any imputation of unseemly forthputting. I will barely subjoin, in this connection, that, whereas Job was left to desire, in the soreness of his heart, that his adversary had written a book, as perchance misanthropically wishing to indite a review thereof, yet was not Satan allowed so far to tempt him as to send Bildad, Eliphaz, and Zophar each with an unprinted work in his wallet to be submitted to his censure. But of th

m fons et origo, the Wild-Boar of Ardennes. Withdrawn from the active duties of my profession by the settlement of a colleague-pastor, the Reverend Jeduthun Hitchcock, formerly of Brutus Four-Corners, I might find time for further contributions to general literature on similar topicks. I have made large advances toward a completer genealogy of Mrs. Wilbur's family, the Pilcoxes, not, if I know myself, from any idle vanity, but with the sole desire of rendering myself useful in my day and generation. Nulla dies sine linea. I inclose a meteorological register, a list of the births, deaths, and marriages, and a few memorabilia, of longevity in Jaalam East Parish for the last half-century. Though spare

ived some time in last June, and others have followed which will in due season be submitted to the publick. How largely his statements are to be depended on, I more than merely dubitate. He was always distinguished for a tendency to exaggeration,-it might almost be qualified by a stronger term. Fortiter mentire, aliquid h?ret, seemed to be his favourite rule of rhetorick. That he is actually where he says he is the post-mark would seem to confirm; that he was received with the publick demonstrations he describes would appear

rs than a coward, though his days might be long in the land and he should get much goods. It is not till our earthen vessels are broken that we find and truly possess the treasure that was laid up in them. Migravi in animam meam, I have sought refuge in my own soul; nor would I be shamed by the heathen comedian with his Nequam illud verbum, bene vult, nisi bene facit. During our dark days, I read constantly in the inspired book of Job, which I believe to contain more food to maintain the fibre of the soul for right living and high thinking than all pagan literature together, though I would by no means vilipend the study of the classicks. There I read that Job said in his despair, even as the fool saith in his heart there is no God,-"The tabernacles of robbers pros

fall. A singular circumstance occurred in this town on the 20th October, in the family

ed correspondent, which seemed calculated rather on the rates of longevity in Jaalam than f

eem and

edient

WILBUR

of a spell sence I ha

ges hez took place in

dead an' gone, an'

much the same; fer it

hain't riz once ain'

y throwed away to

wun't never larn; t

r room, no more 'n

-hangin' roun' thet can

in a rain, heads dow

bein' beat, when a

amberill,-it don't t

' cur'ous, now, to kn

a litt'ry taste don'

ller'd think, thet's u

ez paper 'n' ink air

house, built dreff

e can't git in, ner t

so contrived, you'd

than out, though i

d sets by ye, can't

reg'lar ez an out

contrary: the rope m

other chap frum wa

taters grow in one

ectin' hen thet valli

't find 'em out, an'

eam on when they're '

kin' o' use; an' ef

, thet's all,-the co

m when I thought the

n' Brigadier thet gi

ben turned loose by th

uash, ef you'd took a

echin' kind, thet set

th' univarse coz the

an' criks, (wal, it

orderoy, fust lo

warn't sharp-sot; I

nin's marketin' an' g

o the Creeks an' r

z sent express to b

laid an' snoozed ez p

' deacons be at o

d an' snapped, I le

so, ye see, ther' war

quicker time than ef

han though 't wuz made ou

her leg hed larned w

efle things, afore I

uz n't sore an' send

I parted with in

's ben to me, an'

hez ben,-coz I dror

st where folks wuz

o my cost afore '

n' in the bar a-ta

a man agin, all

t opposite, arte

s peacemaker, an', "

you ain't him thet st

r thet's around,) so no

o argerfy ner try

the smell o' ole cha

lks down here, we'll

ten-foot pole; (Jedge,

ter ha' gut among a tr

n' how we raise our So

erubim, ef he should

ary chance. Come, ge

ve mixed the drinks an'

a feather-bed (thet'

e Grafted-Leg, an' ef

r here but wut'll 'q

wun't say sweet, th

' Bahptists here,) th

icker 'n a flash they h

urkey-chick fer a F

uck up is wut it's

usiasm hed furnish

t edvantiges, this k

n' water's wut I li

thet, they took a k

see the place, entir

ines o' sarse without n

' vowed thet I wuz all

their eggs; (they kee

pooty long, for the

'z the Milky-Way with

ception eggs air s

le anough, skurce wut

s ranges high fer trea

eakeder child the' w

of stripèd pig an'

e lions' den, new a

ate o' 'ts kind, the'

down here than wut o

'ith a resh in rai

rmed out like bees, for

more account than a

ioccashnally, or el

n' 'tention both ai

tality! wut Noth

stranger up an' t

r' 's nothin' like this

ndent race fer ci

relim'nary; it's s

hendier way than o

entenced me, to make

urt o' law, to ten

defence: you don't fe

clamshells gape, a qua

wingèd words, but pi

ev your words tu thick

r wouldn't ha' made a

estnut horse sharper

ched the thief, 'n' s

' le' me run, an' in

ork 'n' pone flavored

ledge but a one-hoss,

folks behaved mos' ge

be more 'n right, ef I s

rgized; suz he, "I'

sfection now by sh

when he's caught,) to

g man took up, a mo

th all on 'em, the i

to make a man blasphe

u thick an' thin an' in

pay fer 's jest the wa

d, ye see, a widder

ould ha' took another

rge for the ride an'

you can chalk our frie

lled, where they "RES

quallerties o' he

by's sile, an' no

yrans scringe in all

to our race an' So

substance o' the l

revere in him a s

princerples o'

r nations all, ef s

, chivverlry, ain't

ription, tu, but no

' of it roun' they

mun ain't slow at pu

) fer in the eend it

s the fashion here to

sordid ez to ax

st on one, an' he dr

t goin' to stan' no s

realized, 'ceptin'

from fust to last a

ugh, come to think,

y to the Lord, an'

my name up for a g

right an' left on th

thousans so to

s, an' sech, ner ain

f, arter all; I ne

e quite a pile for m

ak thing we hed: we

er with a claim up

hts o' man, purtects

tors about a-scroug

dees ther' is, poscri

some enterprise to

-daylight train, with a

d think 't wuz drawed b

t paid in gold afor

ed'rit bonds warn't je

ood ez gold, but then it

llers sot an' wun't git

z wut they wuz afore o

for drinks, when ther'

, jest fer thet a

the despots thet wuz

South's so rich; 't

uz jest the things w

aforehan', though, o' th

rin' cotton-bales an'

ndy to pass off one o

n' quarters back in g

a feller 'd ax, but th

ong ourselves the

a' caird us thru i

d plan come up o' bo

le here out o' all

circumstance to J

t o' borryin' from

in' all debts to se

con'my, now, combine

ivit eends (your in

five an' won his eye-te

pottage, he'd ha' e

n to say how I co

ter lookin' roun', I

double good, with u

' prophecy an' ci

coz he's white, an' w

l pollercy jest

t where I wuz, merrie

n cotton-land, part in

lively ez a chi

riled about much la

resight goes, we m

seer, an' I a f

'most growed up,) rug

o' doctors' bills fer h

y-Buzzard Roost, Li

espex,-fer 't ain't

' seem to squirm; a

for I've jest hed to

lady; th' ain't no

complishmunts 'twixt

llest kind, an' proud

elative thet done

in' fem'ly sech ez

ber on 't but owes his

then agin ther' 's

n't more 'n enough

z tantrums; she is

med frum his limp Ol

d up a spell, an' h

Jeerusalem! the m

ompared to where she

e brought up wuz wut

picked her up an'

an hour 'n' a half a

ev cuttins-up an' p

widder's thirds, an'

in writin' now warn

ckemstance more d

ld grad'lly break my

of argymunts thet's

on,-wal, it's true it wa

the same fer her in

's secedin' out hez

I please, pervi

t come back, she need

x things right fer fear

eligion South, an'

raven imiges o' th

in six munts, for, se

s thick anough, eagl

ronger pint than the

in'my now, an' I've

ed on th' estate o' t

o' right but jest w

, ef't ain't thet nat'

own, but wut's anoth

't do no else; Mis

d," [Thet's when I pa

' kep' your sheer," [W

ix weeks in jail afo

demmiges; but the

u'll ondertake to

o took up, wut with

estice-Court for wel

' so, ef you'll jes

llery, we'll up a

clude," suz she, an'

ry, I expect, 'll

ers stood at fust;

e best on't an' off

' man thet finds an

tell ye how I fin'l

motive, tu: I me

het's growin' up to

better 't pays to mind

ers 'n' sech, an' wast

udyin', evening, I

saciety, in my

y, ye see, o' tast

achers when they sto

h't read an' write,

ey wuz among th' or

wut they call the

to know is jest be

t seem to stan', they're t

might spile a boy

d preachin' here, n

settlement 's the ca

h intu, with his hy

I swan to man, it's

ricsson's ten-hoss-p

winch an' squirm, for al

ain't a pinch o' p

free grace t' a lot

letter now: 'fore lon

to write about, pe

to mission-work, to

hide: an' so

ur

REDUM

D

liments in a speech, and, gracefully claiming the privileges of a literary society, entered at some length into an Apology for Old Age, and, aiding himself by notes in his hand, made a sort of running commentary on Cicero's chapter "De Senectute." The character of th

ecepts; with a Roman eye to the claims of the State; happiest, perhaps, in his praise of life on the farm; and rising, at the conclusion, t

. Nature lends herself to these illusions, and adds dim sight, deafness, cracked voice, snowy hair, short memory, and sleep. These also are masks, and all is not Age that wears them. Whilst we yet call ourselves young, and all our mates are yet youths and boyish, one good fellow in the set prematurely sports a gray or a bald head, which does not impose on us who know how innocent o

th much pains to teach him; there is that in him which is the ancestor of all around him: which fact the Indian Vedas express, when they say, "He that can discriminate is the father of his father." And in our old British legends of Arthur and the Round-Table, his friend and counsellor, Merlin the Wise, is a babe found e

ted table of life I partook of a few mouthfuls, and the Fates said, 'Enough!'" That which does not decay is so central and controlling in us, that, as long as one is alone by himself, he is not sensible of the inroads of time, which always begin at the surface-edges. If, on a winter day, you should stand within a bell-glass, the face and color of the afternoon clouds would not i

itself. But they who take the larger draughts are drunk with it, lose their stature, strength, beauty, and senses, and end in folly and delirium. We postpone our literary work until we have more ripeness and skill to write, and we one day discover that our literary talent was a youthful effervescence which we have now lost. We had a judge in Massachusetts who at sixty proposed to resign, alleging that he perceived a certain decay in his faculties: he was dissuaded by his friends, on account of the public convenience at that time. At seventy it was hinted to him that it was time to retire; but he now replied, that he thought his judgment as robust, and all his faculties as good as ever they were. But besides the self-deception, the strong and hasty laborers of the street do not work well with the chronic valetudinarian. Youth is everywhere in place.

shed something in any department alone deserves to be heard on that subject. A man of great employments and excellent performance used to assure me that he did not think a man worth anything until he was sixty; although this smacks a little of the resolution of a certain "Young Men's Republican Club

who appearing in any street, the people empty their houses to gaze at and obey them: as at "My Cid, with the fleecy beard," in Toledo; or Bruce, as Barbour reports him; as blind old Dandolo, elected Doge at eighty-four years, storming Constantinople at ninety-four, and after the revolt again victorious, and elected at the age of ninety-six to the throne of the Eastern Empire, which he declined, and died Doge at ninety-seven. We still feel the force of Socrates, "whom well-advised the oracle pronounced wisest of men"; of Archimedes, holding Syracuse against the Romans by his wit, and himself better than all their nation; of Michel Angelo, wearing the four crowns of architecture, sculpture, painting, an

ugh the acute degree was novel, there never was a time when this disease did not occur among cattle. All men carry seeds of all distempers through life latent, and we die without developing them: such is the affirmative force of the constitution. But if you are enfeebled by any cause, the disease becomes strong. At every stage we lose a foe. At fifty years, 't is said, afflicted citizens lose their sick-headaches. I hope this hegira is not as movable a feast as that one I annually look for, when the horticulturists assure me that the rose-bugs in our gardens disappear on the tenth of July: they stay a fortnight later in mine. But be it as it may with the sick-headache,-'t is certain that graver headaches and heart-aches are lulled, once for all, as we come up with certain goals of time. The passions have answered their purpose: that slight, but dread overweight, with which, in each instance, N

organs forty years too soon. A lawyer argued a cause yesterday in the Supreme Court, and I was struck with a certain air of levity and defiance which vastly became him. Thirty years ago it was a serious concern to him whether his pleading was good and effective. Now it is of importance to his client, but of none to himself. It is long already fixed what he can do and cannot do, and his reputation does not gain or suffer from one or a dozen new performances. If he should, on a new occasion, rise quite beyond his mark, and do somewh

h some great benefit for the world is planted. The throes continue until the child is born. Every faculty new to each man thus goads him and drives him out into doleful deserts, until it finds proper vent. All the functions of human duty irritate and lash him forward, bemoaning and chiding, until they are performed. He wants friends, employment, knowledge, power, house and land, wife and children, honor and fame; he has religious wants, aesthetic wants, domestic, civil, humane wants. One by one, day after day, he learns to coin his wishes into facts. He has his calling, homestead, social c

he has met with in miscellaneous reading and hearing, in all the years of youth. We carry in memory important anecdotes, and have lost all clue to the author from whom we had them. We have a heroic speech from Rome or Greece, but cannot fix it on the man who said it. We have an admirable line worthy of Horace, ever and anon resounding in our mind's ear, but have searched all probable and improbable books for it in vain. We consult the reading men: but, strangely enough, they who know everything know not this. But especially we have a certain insulated thought, which haunts us, but remains insulated and barren. Well, there is nothing for all this but patience and time. Time, yes, that is the finder, the unweariable explorer, not subject to casualties, omniscient at last. The day comes when the hidden author of our story is found; when the brave speech returns straight to the hero who said it; when the admirable verse finds the poet to whom it belongs; and best of all, when the lonely thought, which seemed so wise, yet half-wise, half-thought, because it cast no light abroad, is suddenly matched in our mind by its twin, by its sequence, or next related analogy, which gives it instantly radiating power, and justifies the superstitious instinct with which we had hoarded it. We remember our old Greek Professor at Cambridge, an ancient bachelor, amid his folios

have lately found in an old note-book a record of a visit to Ex-President John Adams, in 1825, soon after the election of his son to the Presidency. It is but a sketch, and

sted in my time; he never was put off his guard: and I hope he will continue such; but what effect age may work in diminishing the power of his mind, I do not know; it has been very much on the stretch, ever since he was born. He has always been laborious, child and man, from infancy."-When Mr. J.Q. Adams's age was mentioned, he said, "He is now fifty-eight, or will be in July"; and remarked that "all the Presidents were of the same age: General Washington was about fifty-eight, and I was about fifty-eight, and Mr. Jefferson, and Mr. Madison, and Mr. Monroe."-We inquired, when he expected to see Mr. Adams.-He said, "Never: Mr. Adams will not come to Quincy, but to my funeral. It would be a great satisfaction to me to see him, but I don't wish him to come on my account."-He spoke of Mr. Lechmere, whom "he well remembered to have seen come down daily, at a great age, to walk in the old town-house,"-adding, "And I wish I could walk as well as he did. He was Collector of the Customs for many years, under th

n, enters bravely into long sentences, which are interrupted by want of breat

d with accuracy the characters in them. He likes to have a person always reading to him, or company tal

as not yet time for any news to arrive. The informer, something damped in his heart, insisted on repairing to the meeting-house, and proclaimed it al

ctions, leaves in happy subjects the mind purified and wise. I have heard that whoever loves is in no condition old. I have heard, that, whenever the name of man is spoken, the doctrine of immortality is announced; it cleaves to his constitution. The mode o

ND LITERA

y, and June, 1861. By MAX MüLLER, M.A., Fellow of All-Souls College, Oxford; Corresponding Member of t

able to the laity. The Teutonic Gelehrte, gallantly devoting a half-century to his pipe and his locative case, fencing the result of his labors with a bristling hedge of abbreviations, cross-references, and untranslated citations that take panglottism

a lui ciascu

altrui, che a

as the luckiest event in human annals, their names and works are terrors to the uninitiated. They are the giants of these latter days, of whom all we know is that they now and then snatch up some unhappy friend of ours and

es, but with which some luck's-child may enrich himself and his neighbors. Other analogies between them and the dwarfs, such as their accomplishing superhuman

rs! The author of these Lectures is already well known as not only, perhaps, the best living scholar of Sanscrit literature, (and by scholar we mean one who regards study as a means, not an end, and who is capable of drawing original conclusions,) but a savant who can teach without tiring, and can administer learning

On the genealogical classification of languages; (6.) On comparative grammar; (7.) On the constituent elements of language; (8.) On the morphological classification of languages; (9.) On the theoretical stage in the science of languages and the origin of language. An Appendix contains a genealogical table of languages; and an ample Index (why have authors forgotten, what

s, to try to enter into the opinions of those from whom we differ, to make them, our a time at least, our own, till at least we discover the point of view from which each philosopher looked at the facts before him and catch the light in which he regarded them. We shall then

cocke's "India in Greece,") or, to take a philologic example, speculations suggestive of thought, it may be, but too insecurely based on positive data, (as in Rapp's "Physiologie der Sprache,") we shall vainly seek for such originality in Mr. Müller's Lectures. But if we take it to mean, as we certainly prefer to do, safety of conclusion founded on thorough knowledge and comparison, clear statement guarded on all sides by long intimacy with the subject, and theory the result of legitimate deduction and judicial weighing of evidence, we shall find enough in the book to content us. Mr. Müller does not now enter the lists for the first time to win his spurs as an original writer. The plan of the work before us nece

ch blind guides as Swinton's "Rambles among Words," compounds of plagiarism and pretension. Philology as a science is but just beginning to assert its claims in America, though we may already point with satisfaction to several distinguished workers in the field. The names of Professor Sophocles, at

RNOLD, M.A., Professor of Poetry in the University of Oxford, and

old, Esq., Professor of Poetry at Oxford. By FRANCIS W. NEWMAN, a

mindful of Bentley's dictum, that no man was ever written down but by himself, he has published an answer to Mr. Arnold's criticism of his work. Thackeray has said that it is of no use pretending not to care if your book is cut up by the "Times"; and it is not surprising that Mr.

general propositions are concerned. But when he comes to apply his criticisms, he instinctively feels the want of an absolute standard of judgment in aesthetic matters, and accordingly appeals to the verdict of "scholars,"-a somewhat vague term, to be sure, but by w

personal as it is on the part of one of the pleaders, is especially interesting as showing a very decided and gratifying advance in the civilization of literary men to-day as compared with that of a century or indeed half a century ago. If we go back still farther, matters were still worse, and we find Luther and even Milton raking the kennel for di

acter of Homer's poetry, partly on the true method of translation, (especially Homeric translation,) and partly on the particular merits of Mr. Newman's attempt as compared with th

to be used in translating him. Mr. Newman says he sometimes used low words; and since his theory of the duty of a translator is, that he should reproduce the moral effect of his author,-be noble where he is noble, barbarous, if he be barbarous, and quaint, if quaint,-so he should render low words by words as low. But here his own dilemma meets him: how does he know that Homer's words did seem low to a Greek? We agree with him in refusing to be conventional; so would Mr. Arnold; only one would call conventional what the other would call elegant, the question again resolving itself into one of personal taste. We agree with him also in his preference for words that have it certain strangeness and antique dignity about them, but think he should stop short of anything that needs a glossary. He might learn from Chapman's version, however, that it is not the widest choice of archaic words, but intensity of conception and phrase, that gives a poem life, and keeps it living, in spite of grave defects. Where Chapman, in a famous passage, ("Odyssey," v. 612,) tells us, that, when Ulysses crawled ashore after his shipwreck, "the sea had soaked his heart through," it is not the mere simplicity of the language, but the vivid conception which went before and compelled the simplicity, that is impressive. We believe Mr. Newman is right in refusing to sacrifice a good word because it may be pronounced mean by individual caprice, wrong in attempting the fatal impossibility of rescuing a word which to all minds alike conveys a low or ludicrous meaning, as, for example, pate, and dopper, for which he does battle doughtily. Mr. Newman is guilty

atizing on the proper mode of executing it, is manifest from the fact that Mr. Newman is quite as successful in turning some specimens of Mr. Arnold's into ridicule as the latter had been with his. Meanwhile we commend the t

TUA

numbers of our readers both as a private grief and a public loss. The earth will not soon close over a man of more lovely character or more true and delicate genius. This is not the place or t