This Classification is admirable for the purpose of showing the mutual interdependence of the branches of Knowledge included in it; but aside from its covering only a small part of our intellectual domain, it is also defective in not distinguishing with sufficient clearness that which is properly Science, from that which is merely Theory or Plausible Conjecture. Biology and Sociology are classed with Mathematics as Positive Sciences, as if the Laws or Principles which correlated the Phenomena of the former were established as certainly and definitely as those of the latter; while there is no prominence given to the different nature of proof in Mathematics and that in every other department of investigation—except in so far as Mathematical Phenomena and Processes enter into the latter—if, indeed, the founder of Positivism has even anywhere distinctly stated it. Chemistry, Biology, and Sociology, leaving Astronomy and Physics aside for the present, are not yet Positive Sciences, in any such sense as Mathematics. The lack of exact analysis is apparent in all of Comte's generalizations, otherwise magnificent and masterly as they undoubtedly are. In respect to the matter under consideration, it renders his Classification unavailing for determining with sufficient precision and exactitude the character of any intellectual domain. History, while it is the source whence the proof of his fundamental positions is drawn, finds no place in his Scientific schedule. Even had it been otherwise, the defect just alluded to would have rendered it useless for our present purposes, until a prior Classification had first been made, exhibiting the radical difference between the various domains, which are all indiscriminately grouped under the name of Science. After such a Classification, based on the nature of proof as involved in Method, the Principle which guided Comte in the establishment of the Hierarchy of the Sciences will enable us, in a concluding paper, to estimate with proximate certainty the character of a possible Science of History, and to ascertain how far the labors of Mr. Buckle and Professor Draper have aided toward the creation of such a Science.



DIARY OF FRANCES KRASINSKA;

OR, LIFE IN POLAND DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

Friday, April 10th.

Easter week is over, and I am really sorry; I had found happiness in repose, and already have care and disquiet won their way into my heart and my mind.... How many sins I have committed! Poor humanity! poor nature, so frail and weak! Notwithstanding my promises and the resolutions which I fancied so strong, I yield to the least temptation.

For example, and it is indeed incredible, but a fact, that on Holy Thursday, the very day after my confession, I sinned, and sinned through pride. I should have worn black when I went to be present at the court ceremony, but I could not resist the seduction of a beautiful costume. Just as I was beginning my preparations, the Princess Lubomirska entered my room, accompanied by her maids, who brought me a charming dress of white velvet, with a long train, and trimmed with white roses; the headdress consisted of a garland of white roses, and a long white blonde veil. The taste and richness of this costume surpasses description! How could I resist the happiness of seeing myself so becomingly attired!

I asked the princess why she required me to wear so brilliant a costume to church; she replied that on Holy Thursday it was customary after the service to go into the great hall of the castle, where the king would wash the feet of twelve old men, in commemoration of the humility of our Saviour, and that he would also wait upon them at table. During this pious and edifying ceremony, a young girl belonging to one of the noblest families must make a collection for the poor; the king himself names the lady, and this year he was pleased to honor me by his selection; he at the same time announced that the results of my efforts should be given to the hospital for the poor under the Abbe Baudoin's charge.

I was very happy as I listened to the princess; but, must I confess it? I was not happy through the good action I was about to perform; I thought only of myself, of my beauty, of the charming costume, of the effect I should produce among all the other women dressed in black, and I rejoiced to think that I should be the most beautiful. What culpable vanity! And on Holy Thursday! But at least I frankly admit my sin, and humiliate myself for it.

My collection surpassed my hopes. I received nearly four thousand ducats. Prince Charles Radziwill said, as he put his hand to his purse: 'My dear (Panie Kochanku, his favorite expression), one must give something to so beautiful a lady;' and he threw five hundred gold pieces on my plate, which would have fallen from my hands had I not been aided in holding it. When I began my collection, I was very much embarrassed; I trembled all over, and blushed at each new offering I received; but by degrees I gained courage, and profited by my dancing master's lessons. The grand marshal of the court gave me his hand, and named each lord as he repeated the customary formula employed in handing them the plate; as for me, I could not have said a word; I found it quite enough to make a proper and becoming courtesy to each one. When the plate became too heavy, the marshal emptied it into a large bag, borne behind us.

I heard many compliments, and I was more looked at and admired than I ever had been before in my life. The prince royal said to me: 'If you had asked each of us to give you his heart, no one could have refused you.'

I replied: 'Affection is not solicited, it is inspired.'

He seemed pleased with my frankness. I cannot comprehend how a woman could solicit love, and say: Love me, admire me.... For a king I could not thus degrade myself. Tenderness is involuntary; one may seek to win it, one may gladly accept it when offered; but to solicit it, is even more ridiculous than criminal.

The washing of the feet is one of the most striking ceremonies of our religion. A king kneeling before those twelve aged men, and then standing behind them while they are at table, is a most touching and sublime spectacle. That ceremony can never pass from my memory. Augustus III, although no longer young, is still handsome; his gestures bear the impress of dignity and nobility: the prince royal, Charles, resembles him exactly.

On Good Friday we visited the sepulchre; all the court ladies were dressed in black; we made our stations in seven churches, and in each we said appropriate prayers. I was on my knees during a whole hour in the cathedral. On Holy Saturday the services were magnificent, and the organs pealed forth the most heavenly strains of music.

Tho princess's Easter collation (swiencone) was superb; until yesterday, the tables were continually covered with cakes and cold meats. It is just one year since I assisted at Madame Strumle's very modest collation; I was then a schoolgirl; who could have guessed that on the following Easter Monday I should be with the princess palatiness, that the prince royal would partake of the same collation with myself, and that we should eat out of the same plate!

One really finds a pleasure in eating meat after a Lent so rigorously observed; for all here are as particular as at Maleszow. During holy week, everything is cooked in oil, and on Good Friday a severe fast is adhered to, each one taking only food sufficient to keep him from starving.

The prince royal has fasted so much that he has become quite thin. I noticed this yesterday, and my eyes involuntarily rested upon his features with a more tender expression than usual: as he was talking with the prince palatine, I did not think he was paying any attention to me, but thoughts springing from the heart never escape him, he is so good, so quick in understanding; soon after, he thanked me for my solicitude. I grew very red, and promised myself in future to keep a strict guard over the expression of my eyes.

A woman's part, especially that of an unmarried girl, is very difficult; not only must she measure out her words and watch the tones of her voice, but she must also command the expression of her countenance. I must ask, of what use are governesses and their lessons in such cases? The princess is quite right when she says, that ten governesses, let them be as watchful as they may, cannot guard a young girl who does not know how to guard herself.

Wednesday, April 15th.

We leave Warsaw to-morrow; I am going with the prince and princess to their estate at Opole. My father has written to the princess to say that I may remain with her so long as my presence may be agreeable to her. I hope she will never be dissatisfied with me; I endeavor to please her in every possible way. She inspires me with infinite fear and respect; she controls me entirely, and I am always ready to yield to the lightest expression of her will; when she smiles upon me, when she looks at me kindly, it seems to me as if heaven were opening before me. If I should ever reach an advanced age, I would like to inspire the same feelings which I experience toward her. The prince royal himself is afraid of the princess.

Would any one believe that I am glad to think that I shall not now go to Maleszow? I dread the home of my childhood; it seems to me as if I should profane it were I to visit it with a heart so filled with unrest and disquietude!

Ought I to regret the past? Will a life of torment be the price of a single ray of happiness enlightening the highest pinnacle of human felicity? If the wish which I dare not express should ever be accomplished, I will surely be equal to my position; but I will also know how to bear the shipwreck of my dearest hopes.... Great God, how can I write, how dare I confide to paper what I fear to confess to myself! When I think of him, I tremble lest any one should divine my feelings, and yet I write!... If my journal were to fall into any one's hands I should be deemed mad, or at least most foolishly presumptuous; I must shut it up under four locks.

CASTLE OF OPOLE, Friday, April 24th.

We have been here nearly a week; the situation of the castle is very agreeable, but I am no longer gay, and nothing pleases me. The trees should already be green, and they are still bare; it should be warm, and the air freezes me. I desired to embroider, but the indispensable silks were wanting; I tried the piano, but it was not in tune: it will be necessary to send to Lublin for the organist. There is quite a large library here, but I dare not ask the princess for the key. The prince has several new works; he paid in my presence six gold ducats for ten little volumes of M. Voltaire's works: Voltaire is now the most celebrated writer in France. The princess forbids my reading his books, and I am sure I am quite content. But what I cannot endure is, that I am not permitted to read a romance lately come from Paris, entitled La Nouvelle Heloise. It is by a certain Rousseau, and has made a great sensation here. I picked up one volume, and read a few pages of the preface, but what did I see? Rousseau himself says: 'A mother will forbid her daughter to read it.' The princess is quite right, and I laid the book aside with a flutter at my heart which still continues.

The physicians in Warsaw have ordered the princess to ride on horseback during her sojourn in the country; they say this exercise will be excellent for her health. She laughed at the prescription, and had not the faintest intention of trying it; but the prince palatine will hear of no jesting where physicians are concerned.

He has bought a pretty mare, very gentle and well trained, as also a most comfortable saddle; but the princess still refuses to mount the animal. She was with great difficulty persuaded yesterday to mount a donkey, and thus make the circuit of the garden. She will be obliged to repeat this exercise every day. As for me, who have no fear of horses, I had a most burning desire to try the mare; I spoke of it yesterday evening; but the princess chid me, and told me with quite a severe air, that it was the most improper thing in the world for a young lady. I must of course renounce my desire; but I do it with real regret, for I already saw myself in fancy riding through the forests, going to the chase, climbing the steep mountain sides with him, and admiring his strength and skill....

The castle has become more lively; several persons have come from the city and the neighborhood to present their homage to the palatine. They might perhaps afford me amusement; and yet I do not even find a passing distraction in their presence. I have seen Michael Chronowski, my father's former chamberlain; how the poor young man is changed! The prince palatine, in consequence of my father's recommendation, placed him at the bar in Lublin. They say he is doing very well, but he is thin, bent, and old before his time; his face is strangely colored, and he has some frightful scars. He has not danced once since Barbara's wedding. The time for mazourkas and cracoviennes is past: they have been replaced by law cases, pleading, chicanery, and all its tiresome accompaniments; his language is so learned that one can no longer understand him.

As a compensation, however, we have here one very agreeable visitor, Prince Martin Lubomirski, the prince palatine's cousin, though much younger than he. I had already met him in society at Warsaw. The princess, who is severe, and who never overlooks the least defect, criticizes him a little; but I find his manners very agreeable: he owns in the neighborhood the estate of Janowiec, and has given us all a most pressing invitation to visit his castle. It is possible we may go there; I should be charmed, for no one talks more agreeably. He is gay, fond of pleasantry, and a great friend to the prince royal; he often speaks of him, and always well and worthily; he appreciates him and knows how to praise him.... My heart swells with pleasure while I listen.

CASTLE OF JANOWIEC, Friday, May 1st, 1760.

We came here two days ago, and Prince Martin says he will not let us soon depart. Everything is more beautiful at Janowiec than at Opole; no one can be more generous, more hospitable, or more amiable than Prince Martin. The princess says he scatters gold and silver about as if he expected it to grow. He is now having a wide avenue cut through the forest surrounding the castle. I can see from the windows of my room immense trees falling beneath the axes of hundreds of laborers; at the end of the avenue, a pavilion is being built, at which they work so rapidly that one can see it grow from hour to hour. The prince sent to Warsaw and to various other places for his workmen; he pays them double wages, and he has made a bet with the palatine that the pavilion will be entirely finished in four weeks. I am quite sure he will win. The forest is to be transformed into an enclosed park. The whole neighborhood abounds in wild beasts; but he has had many elks and bears taken to people his wonderful park. There must be some mystery lurking behind all these preparations. I feel, rather than guess it.

I like Janowiec better than any other place; the situation is charming, and the castle magnificent. It stands upon a mountain overlooking the Vistula; its architecture belongs to a very ancient period. From the castle the whole city may be seen, with the granaries of Kazimierz, and also Pulawy, belonging to the Princess Czartoryski. The apartments are large, very numerous, and gorgeously furnished; but I believe that my boudoir is the most delightful room in the castle. It is situated at the top of a tower, and while I am in it I can fancy myself a real heroine of romance. It has three windows, all opening in different directions, and each with a most enchanting view. I generally sit by the window overlooking the new avenue and the pavilion, which rises as if built by fairies. The panels of my cabinet are adorned with paintings, representing Olympus. 'Venus alone was wanting,' said the prince, with that grace for which he is distinguished, 'but you have come to finish the picture.'

I feel here an incomprehensible sense of well-being, I am soothed by such sweet presentiments, I fancy myself on the eve of some very happy event.

Sunday, May 3d.

I do not think I ever rose so early before in my whole life; the castle clock has just struck three, and I am already at my writing. I took a walk before daylight through the long corridors of the castle: had any one seen me, I should have been taken for an ancestral shade, come to visit the domain of its descendants. Prince Martin, following an old and excellent custom, has built a gallery, containing the portraits of all the most distinguished members of his family; all the memories of the race of Lubomirski may be found in this gallery. He sent to Italy for an artist to execute the portraits, and he called to his aid a learned man fully acquainted with the history of the Lubomirski family and of our country. After much deliberation and many discussions, the project was finally carried into effect in 1756, as announced by the main inscription. It is to be regretted, says the princess, that these pictures are in fresco, and not in oil colors, as they would then have been more solid and transportable.

Let what will happen in the future, at present this gallery is truly magnificent. Yesterday, Prince Martin, with the palatine and the palatiness, gave me a historical account of each picture; I immediately determined to transfer them to my journal. With this intention I rose before day and visited the gallery on tiptoe while all were still sleeping. I will write down all I have been told, and all I have seen.

In the four corners of the hall are the arms of the Lubomirski family, Srzeniawa, received on the occasion of a battle gained by one of the ancestors on the banks of the Srzeniawa, not far from Cracow. The first picture represents the division of the property between the three brothers Lubomirski; a division which was made according to law, during the reign of Wladislas I, and signed February 1st, 1088. Nearly all the other pictures are family portraits; women rendered illustrious by noble deeds, and men distinguished in political, civil, military, or religious careers, especially during the reigns of Sigismund III, of John Casimir, and of John III, Sobieski, There are several copies of the portrait of Barbara Tarlo, who brought the castle of Janowiec as a dowry to a Lubomirski.

The series is ended by a picture which is equivalent to a whole poem; it represents a winter sky and a naked forest; a furious bear endeavors to overthrow a tall and athletic man; a young woman, wearing a hunting costume, comes behind the bear and places a pistol at each ear. In the distance is a horse running away and dragging behind him an upset sledge. I asked an explanation of the picture, and was told as follows:

A certain Princess Lubomirska, who was very fond of the chase, set out one winter day on a bear hunt; as she was returning in a little sledge, drawn by one horse, and having only one attendant with her, a furious bear, driven by some other hunters, fell upon the princess. The terrified horse upset the sledge, and she and the attendant must infallibly have perished, had not the courageous servant determined to sacrifice himself for his mistress; he threw himself before the bear, saying these words; 'Princess, remember my wife and children.' But the noble and heroic woman, thinking only of the danger of him who was about to sacrifice his life for her, drew two small pistols from her pockets, placed the barrels in the bear's ears, and killed him on the spot.

In truth, I envy this noble and generous action.... It is needless to add that the servant with his wife and children became henceforth the special care of the princess.

But, during the last few moments, I have heard considerable noise through the castle, and I must return to my own room. I hear Prince Martin's voice resounding through the corridors. He is calling his dogs, of which he is exceedingly fond, as indeed he may well be, for his hounds are the most beautiful in the whole country. He is always sorry when the season will not admit of hunting; but at present the most intrepid hunters are forced to renounce their sport. I must close my book. It is five o'clock, and some one might come into the gallery.

Thursday, May 14th.

We have been to Opole, where we spent several days; but Prince Martin made us promise to return here, and here we are again installed. He wished us to see the pavilion entirely finished. The exterior is completed, and only a few interior embellishments are yet wanting. Prince Martin has then won his bet, and he talks to me about it in such strange enigmas that I cannot comprehend him; for example, he said to me this morning: 'Every one says that I am expending the most enormous sums on my park and my pavilion; but I shall receive a recompense which I shall owe to you, far above anything I can do.'

Indeed, I lose myself in conjecture; either I am mad, or all who come near me have lost their senses.

Saturday, May 16th.

Could I ever have anticipated such happiness! The prince royal has arrived; the pavilion, the park, and all, were for him, or rather for me; for they know that he loves me, and to please him, the princes have invented this pretext for bringing him to Janowiec. Great Heaven! what will my fate be! I bless the happy accident that brought him here at nightfall, for otherwise every one must have observed my blushes, my embarrassment, and that throbbing at my heart which deprived me of the power of speech and took away my breath; he too would have understood my joy! I never saw him so tender before; but the future—what will that be?...

Until now, I have always feigned not to comprehend the meaning of his words, and have striven to hide from him all that was passing in my soul; but can I always control myself when I must see him every moment? Ah! how painful will be the effort!... What torture ever to repress the best feelings of one's soul! To refuse expression to my thoughts, when my thoughts are all personified in him.... Notwithstanding my efforts, I fear lest my heart should be in my eyes, in my voice, in some word apparently trivial.... God give me courage, for what can my future destiny be? On what can I rely?... My fate sometimes appears to me so brilliant, I foresee a superhuman happiness; and then again it seems to me so dark and menacing that a shudder runs through my whole frame.

I do not know what to decide upon; I do not know whether I should trust to my heart or my reason. Alas! my reason—I have only fears and melancholy foreshadowings, which lead me back to the truth when I have yielded too willingly to the enchantment of such sweet illusions.

If I could confide in any one; if I could find a friend and guide in the princess! But my attachment to her is too respectful to be tender and confiding; then she says, perhaps by chance, words which destroy my desire to make a confidante of her. She blames the prince's character, and pities the woman who would bind herself to him.... The palatine gives me no assistance; he doubtless believes my virtue is strong enough to suffice without aid or counsel.

I will accept all the happiness which Heaven may send me; I will guard it as a sacred treasure, but I will commit no imprudence, no action unworthy of my name. God will be my refuge; he will deign to enlighten me. I passed the whole of last night in prayer. Ah! how sorry I am the Abbe Baudoin is not here, for each day will be a new trial. The prince will remain some time at the castle; the princes, his brothers, will soon join him here, and great projects for hunting have been made.

May 18th. evening.

Heaven has been gracious, and my destiny is the happiest of all! I, Frances Krasinska, in whose veins runs no royal blood, am to be the wife of the prince royal, Duchess of Courland, and one day, perhaps, may wear a crown.... He loves me, loves me beyond everything; he sacrifices his father to me, and overleaps the inequality in our rank; he forgets all, he loves me!

It seems to me I must be misled by some deceitful dream! Is it indeed true that I went alone with him this afternoon to walk in the park? The princess's recent accident was the cause. As she was ascending the stairs of the pavilion, she made a false step, and was forced to remain in the saloon with one of the young lady companions. Usually, she does not leave us a single moment; but as her foot would not permit her to walk, the princes, he and I, went without her. Prince Martin stopped by the way to show the prince palatine some of his preparations for the chase. The prince royal told them he preferred to walk on, and passed my arm within his own. He was silent during some moments; I was surprised, for I had always seen him so abounding in wit, and so fertile in subjects of conversation. He finally asked me if I still persisted in misunderstanding the motive which had brought him to Janowiec. I replied, as usual, that the anticipated pleasures of the chase had doubtless determined him to accept Prince Martin's invitation.

'No,' he said, 'I came for you, for myself, to secure the happiness of my whole life.'

'Is it possible?' I cried; 'Prince, do you forget your rank, and the throne which awaits you in the future? The prince royal should wed a king's daughter!'

He replied: 'You, Frances, you are my queen; your charms first seduced my eyes, and later, your truth and virtue subjugated my heart. Before I knew you, I had been always accustomed to receive advances from women; scarcely had I said a word, when I was overwhelmed with coquetries.... You, who have perhaps loved me more than they, you have avoided me; one must divine your secret thoughts if one would love you without losing all hope; you merit the loftiest throne in the universe, and if I desired to be King of Poland, it would only be that I might place a crown upon your noble and beautiful brow.'

My surprise, my happiness, deprived me of all power to reply; meanwhile, the princes rejoined us, and the prince royal said to them:

'I here take you for the witnesses of my oath: I swear to wed no other bride than Frances Krasinska; circumstances require secrecy until a certain period, and you alone will know my love and my happiness: he who betrays me will be henceforth my enemy.'

The princes made the most profound salutations, and expressed themselves deeply honored by the prince royal's confidence; they assured him that they would keep his secret most religiously; then, passing by my side, they whispered in my ear, 'You are worthy of your good fortune,' and departed.

I stood motionless and dumb, but the prince was so tender, his words were so persuasive and so eloquent, that I ended by confessing to him that I had long loved him: I believe one may, without criminality, make this avowal to one's future husband.... The castle clock at length struck midnight, that hour for ghosts and wandering spirits; after midnight their power vanishes.... Can I yet be the plaything of an illusion?... But no, all is true, my happiness is real, my grandeur is no dream.... The ring I wear upon my finger attests its truth.

Barbara gave me a ring in the form of a serpent, the symbol of eternity; the prince royal often fixed his eyes upon it, and now he has had one made exactly like it, with this inscription: 'Forever,' which he has exchanged with me for mine. Our first and holy betrothal had no witnesses but the trees and the nightingales. I will tell no one of this occurrence, not even the princess.

Alas! Barbara and my parents are also ignorant of it—they have not blessed our rings; it was not my father who promised me to my betrothed, nor has my mother given me her blessing!... Alas! my sorrow oppresses me, and my face is bathed in tears.... Yes, all is true, this must indeed be life, since I begin to suffer!

Monday, May 25th.

I have written, and it seems to me as if I had said nothing; I have not written during the past week, because I found no words to express my thoughts.... I am happy, and language, which is eloquent in the expression of sorrow, has no tongue for joy and happiness.

Last week, I took up my pen to write, but I soon gave up the attempt; my feelings and ideas were confused with their own constant repetition and renewal, and when my poor head would have presided over the arrangement of the words, my heart melted into hopes and desires.... I can write to-day, because the fear of misfortune, of some sudden catastrophe, has seized upon me.... If he should cease to love me!...

The royal princes, Clement and Albert, arrived last Thursday. There have been hunting parties without intermission. Prince Martin had sent for plenty of wild animals; they were let loose in the park, and the princes have had as much as they could do. My maid tells me the princes Clement and Albert leave this morning; my first thought was that he would go too.... Happiness has entirely absorbed me during the past week; happiness, unalloyed by a single fear; my cares too as mistress of the house (for since the princess's accident I have taken her place) have left me not a moment unemployed!... And now, these few words uttered by my maid have completely unsettled my mind: Great Heaven, if he were to go too! For whom would I wake in the morning, for whom would I dress with so much care, for whom would I strive to be more beautiful? Ah! without him, I can see but death and a void which nothing can fill!... I grow faint.... I must open the window.... I breathe, and already feel better.

It is only six o'clock, and yet I see a white handkerchief floating from the window of the pavilion. That is his daily signal, to say good morning. I will never confess to him that my awakening each day preceded his.... But who is that man running toward the castle; I know him well—his favorite huntsman; he brings me a bouquet of fresh flowers; they must have been sent for to an orangery four leagues from here.... How silly and unjust I was to torment myself so! He is still here, no one has told me that he is going, he will doubtless remain a long time.... Ah yes, some days of happiness will still be granted me—perhaps some weeks.



THE SLEEPING SOLDIER.

On the wild battle field where the bullets were flying, With a ball in his breast a brave soldier was lying, While the roar of the cannon and cannon replying, And the roll of the musketry, shook earth and air.

The red ooze from his breast the green turf was a-staining; The light of his life with the daylight was waning; From his pain-parted lips came no word of complaining: Where the fighting was hottest his spirit was there.

He had marched in the van where his leader commanded; He had fall'n like a pine that the lightning has branded; He was left by his mates like a ship that is stranded, And far to the rear and a-dying he lay.

His comrades press on in a gleaming of glory, But backward he sinks on his couch cold and gory; They shall tell to their children hereafter the story, His lips shall be silent forever and aye.

A smile lit his face, for the foe were retreating, And the shouts of his comrades his lips were repeating, And true to his country his chill heart was beating, When over his senses a weariness crept.

The rifle's sharp crack, the artillery's thunder, The whizzing of shell and their bursting asunder, Heaven rending above and the earth rumbling under, Nevermore might awake him, so soundly he slept.

He had rushed to the wars from the dream of his wooing, For fame as for favor right gallantly suing, Stem duty each softer emotion subduing, In the camp, on the field—the dominion of Mars.

And there when the dark and the daylight were blended, Still there when the glow of the sunset was ended, He slept his last sleep, undisturbed, unattended, Overwept by the night, overwatched by the stars.

BATON ROUGE, LA., September 10th, 1863.



MY MISSION.

I opened my eyes and looked out.

Not that I had been exactly asleep, but dreamily ruminating over a series of chaotic visions that had about as much reason and order as a musical medley. I had been riding in the cars for the past six hours, and had now become so accustomed to the monotony that all idea of a change seemed wildly absurd; in my half-awake state, I was feebly impressed with the conviction that I was to ride in the cars for the remainder of my existence.

The entrance of the conductor, with the dull little glowworms of lamps which he so quickly jerked into their proper places, made a sudden break in my train of thought; and, not having anything else to occupy me just then, I became speedily beset with the idea that the luminary just above my head was only awaiting a favorable opportunity to tumble down upon it. The thought became unpleasantly absorbing; and, not having sufficient energy to get up and change my seat, I looked out of the window again.

The prospect was, like most country views, of no particular beauty when seen in the ungenial light of a November evening: the sky rather leaden and discouraging; the earth, chilled by the sun's neglect, was growing shrivelled and ugly with all its might; and the trees were dreary skeletons, flying past the car window in a kind of mad dance, after the fashion of Alonzo and the false Imogen. I gave up the idea of making the cars my future residence, and considered that it was quite time to look about me, and inquire, for present, practical purposes, what I was and where I was going.

But, at the very outset of this laudable occupation, a disagreeable fact thrust itself impudently in my face, and even shook its fist at me in insolent defiance. There was no getting over it—I was undeniably a woman—and, what was worse, rather a womanly woman. I am aware, of course, that this depends. If you should ask that stately lily, radiant with beauty, from the crown of the head to the sole of her foot, surrounded by her kind, and cherished and admired as one of the choicest gems of the garden, whether she considered it an agreeable thing to be a flower, she would probably toss her head in scorn, as youthful beauties do, at the very question. But ask the poor roadside blossom, trampled on, switched off, and subjected to every trial that is visited on strength and roughness, without the strength and roughness to protect her, and there is very little doubt that she would express a desire to wake up, some morning, and find herself transformed into a prickly pear. Womanhood, under some circumstances, is very much like sitting partly on one chair, and partly on another, without being secure on either.

It is an unnatural combination to have the propensities of a Columbus or Robinson Crusoe united with a habit of trembling at stray dogs in the daytime, and covering one's head with the bedclothes at night. I had longed to be afloat for some time past; but now, that I was fairly out of sight of land, I shuddered at the immensity of the fathomless sea that stretched before me. Whither bound? To the 'Peppersville Academy,' in a town on the border of a lake familiar to me in my geography days at school, but which seemed, practically, to have no more connection with New York than if it had been in Kamtchatka. To this temple of learning I was going as assistant teacher; and the daring nature of the undertaking suddenly flashed upon me. Suppose that, when weighed in the examining balances, I should be found wanting? Suppose that some horridly sharp boy should 'stump' me with 'Davies' Arithmetic?'

That was my weak point, and I realized it acutely. Figures never would arrange themselves in my brain in proper order; I am by no means sound even on the multiplication table; and the only dates that ever fixed themselves in my memory are 1492 and 1776. The very sight of a slate and pencil gave me a nervous headache, and as I had lately been told that idiots always failed in calculation, I considered myself but a few removes from idiocy. My answering that advertisement was a proof of it; and here I was, hundreds of miles from any familiar sight, going to teach pupils who probably knew more than I did! I had my music and French, to be sure, and that was some foundation—but not half so solid as a substantial base of figures.

In a sort of frantic desperation, I began, to ply myself with impossible sums in mental arithmetic, until I nearly got a brain fever; and the cars stopped, and the dreaded station was shouted in my ears, while I was in the midst of a desperate encounter with a group of stubborn fractions.

How I dreaded the sight of the personage who had twice subscribed himself my 'obedient servant, Elihu Summers'! My 'obedient servant,' indeed! More likely my inexorable taskmaster, with figures in his eye and compound fractions at his tongue's end. I painted his portrait: tall, wiry, with compressed lips, and a general air of seeing through one at a glance. Now, when one is painfully conscious of being deficient in several important points, this sort of person is particularly exasperating; and I immediately began to hate Mr. Summers with all my might.

Nevertheless, I shook considerably, and, having been informed that I would be met at the station, though by whom or what was not specified, I prepared to alight, with my bag and shawl and 'Harper,' attached to various parts of my person. Considering how short the step is from the sublime to the ridiculous, the length, or rather height, of that step from the car to the platform was out of all proportion; I looked upon it as an invention of the enemy, and stood hopelessly considering the impossibility of a descent without the aid of a pair of wings.

Raising my eyes in dismay, I saw in the dim light a pair of arms outstretched to my assistance; and, observing that the shoulders pertaining thereto were broad and solid-looking, I deposited my hundred and twenty pounds of flesh and bone thereon without any compunctions of conscience, and no questions asked. I almost fell in love with that individual for the very tender manner in which I was lifted to the ground; but, once safe on terra firma, I merely said, 'Thank you, sir,' and was gliding rapidly into the ladies' saloon, half afraid of encountering Mr. Summers in my journey.

But my aide-de-camp, with a hasty stride, arrested my progress, as he said inquiringly, 'This is Miss Wade, I believe?'

I turned and looked at him, as the light fell upon his figure from the open doorway—large and well proportioned, with the kind of face that one sees among the heroes of a college 'commencement,' or the successful candidates for diplomas—half manly, half boyish, with a firm mouth and laughing eyes; and he immediately added, 'I have come to conduct you to your boarding house.'

I concluded that he was either a son or nephew of 'Elihu Summers,' possibly an assistant in the school; and I felt glad at the prospect of some congenial society.

The walk to the boarding house was not a long one, and we said very little on the way. My companion had quietly relieved me of my small articles of baggage; and I had mechanically taken the offered arm as though I had known him all my life. I could not see much of the town in the dark, and what I did see did not impress me with a very exalted idea of its liveliness—the inhabitants apparently considering it sinful to show any lights in the fronts of their houses, except an occasional glimmering over the hall door.

My companion suddenly turned, mounted two steps, and lifted a knocker. The sound, at first, produced no reply; but presently a sound of unbolting and unbarring ensued, and the door was opened, as Morgiana would have opened it to let in the forty thieves. A small, pale man, with whitish eyes, and gray hair standing on end, peered at us rather inhospitably; and on the lower step of the staircase a tallow candle, in a brass candlestick, emitted the brilliant light that tallow candles usually do.

We effected an entrance by some miracle; and once in that full blaze of light, the old man exclaimed:

'Oh, Mr. Summers, so it is you, is it? I was kind of puzzled to make out who 'twas. And is this the new teacher you've brought along, or a boarding scholar? Looks about as much like one as t'other.'

With a smile, I was introduced as 'Miss Wade;' and just as a pleasant matronly looking woman made her appearance, the old man seized me in an unexpected embrace, observing, quite as a matter of course, 'I always kiss nice-looking young gals.'

'Not always,' thought I, giving him a desperate push that sent him, where he more properly belonged, to the arms of Mrs. Bull, who opportunely arrived in time to restore his equilibrium.

I suppose my cheeks were blazing, they felt so hot, for the good wife gently remarked, 'It is only Mr. Bull's way—he doesn't mean anything by it, or I should have been jealous long ago.'

Had the observation not been so hackneyed, I would have advised Mr. Bull to mend his way; but he seemed so thoroughly astonished that further comment was unnecessary.

A glance at Mr. Summers, who had proved to be the redoubtable Elihu, discovered an amused smile hovering around the corners of his mouth; and it was ridiculous that, at my first entrance into a house, I should have a pitched battle with the master of it. To do the old man justice, I do not believe that he did 'mean anything,' as the intended salute was to be given in the presence of witnesses; he only labored under the hallucination of old men in general, who seem to think that, because it is an agreeable thing to them to kiss all the fresh young lips they encounter, it must be just as agreeable to the fresh young lips to receive it; reminding me of a wise saying I encountered somewhere lately, that, 'although age sees a charm in youth, youth sees no charm in age.'

But father Bull was not malicious; he only said that 'he guessed I wasn't used to country ways;' and after that little brush we became very good friends.

I took to Mrs. Bull at once; and, following her into a neat little room, where there was a stove, a rag carpet, and a table laid for one, I was informed that this was the dining room, sitting room, and room in ordinary. Tea was over long ago; indeed, as it was eight o'clock, they had begun to think of going to bed. Cars in which I travel are always behindhand; and they had almost given me up.

Having introduced me to my host and hostess, Mr. Summers took his leave, for he did not board there, and went to see that my trunk was speedily forwarded to its destination.

I sat down at the neat table, and tried what Mr. Bull denominated 'presarved squinches'—which might have passed for fragments of granite, and were a trifle sour in addition; the apple pie, which, had it been large enough, would have been a splendid foundation for a quadrille; the bread, which looked like rye, but wasn't; and the tea, which neither cheered nor inebriated. This is what good, honest city people eulogize under the name of 'a real country tea;' and half an hour after I had left the festive board, I could not positively have sworn whether I had had any tea or not.

Mr. and Mrs. Bull were very hospitable, and pressed me continually to eat, remarking that 'I had an awful small appetite;' but I considered it awful under the circumstances, without being small. They had one other boarder, they said, 'a single lady, who was very quiet, and didn't disturb any one.' They evidently intended this as an eulogy for Miss Friggs, but I should have preferred an inmate with more life about her.

At nine o'clock I concluded, from various signs, that it was time to turn my steps bedward; and producing a fresh tallow candle, Mrs. Bull placed it in another brass candlestick, and led the way up stairs. The stairs were narrow, crooked, and winding, and the doors opened with latches. My sanctum was of moderate size, with a comfortable-looking bed, covered with a white counterpane (I had dreaded patchwork), a white curtain to the window, and a white cover on the table,—a pleasant harmony, I thought, with the snow that would soon cover the ground; and feeling chilled through, in spite of the fire that burned in the funny little stove, I wondered that so many people never think of providing for but one kind of hunger.

Mrs. Bull helped me to arrange my things, and kissed me good-night in a way that went to my heart at once. I did not treat her on this occasion as I had treated Mr. Bull.

'I suspect,' said she, kindly, 'that you've been used to things very different from what you'll find here; but we'll do all in our power to make it pleasant for you, and I dare say that, before long, you'll feel quite at home in Peppersville.'

People 'dare say' anything, and many things appeared more probable than that I should ever feel at home in Peppersville.

One thing I thoroughly congratulated myself upon, and that was that Mr. Summers boarded elsewhere. It is a dreadful thing to be housed under the same roof, in a place where there is a total want of all excitement, with any sort of a man—people have even become attached to spiders when shut up alone with them—and when the man is young, good-looking, and poor, the danger is increased. I did not come to Peppersville to fall in love with the principal of the Academy; and I was glad that one road, at least, to that undesirable end was cut off.

I found the evening psalms and lessons, and then climbed into my nest—where I sank down, down, down into the feathery depths, in a manner peculiarly terrifying to one whose nights had all been spent on hair mattresses. A few hours' ride had transplanted me into a new region, among an entirely different race of people, and I fell asleep to dream that a whole army of intricate sums were charging upon me with fixed bayonets.

* * * * *

Morning came, and I was under the painful necessity of getting up—which is always an unnatural wrench under the most favorable auspices. The first bell had rung at an unearthly hour, and I paid no attention to it, but the second bell was not much more civilized; and as I failed to appear, Mrs. Bull came to the door to see if I had made way with myself.

I told her not to wait—I would be down as soon as I could get dressed; and I plunged desperately into a basin of cold water. Thankful for the institution of nets, I hastily packed my hair into what Artemus Ward calls 'a mosquito bar,' and with a final shake-out of my hurriedly-thrown-on drapery, I descended, with the expectation of finding the family in the full enjoyment of their morning meal.

But Mrs. Bull stood at the head of the table, Mr. Bull at the foot, and Miss Friggs at the side, all with their hands on their respective chairs. If they had stood in that position ever since Mrs. Bull's visit to my door, they had enjoyed it for at least half an hour.

This was very embarrassing; but the only answer that I received to my remonstrances was that 'they knew what manners was.' After that, I always managed to be down in time.

I found Miss Friggs just as she had been represented, with the addition of being very kindly disposed toward me; but between her and Mr. Bull there existed a sort of chronic squabble that led to frequent passages of wit. Mr. Bull opened the ball, that morning, by observing, with a half wink at me, that 'he see she hadn't been kerried off yet,' which referred to a previously expressed objection on the part of Miss Friggs to sleep without some secure fastening on the door of her room; and people in the country can never understand why you should want anything different from the existing state of things. Then Mr. Bull remarked that Miss Friggs had better sleep in a bandbox or an old stocking, as folks packed away valuables in such things, because they were seldom looked into by housebreakers.

Suddenly, Miss Friggs asked her tormentor if he had seen any robbers lately—when he turned around and handed me the butter. This referred to a tradition that Mr. Bull had come running home one evening, entirely out of breath, under the firm belief that he was pursued by a robber, and nearly shut the door in Mr. Summers's face, who had been in vain hallooing to him to stop, in order to apprise him of my expected arrival, and make some provision for my accommodation.

These things were all explained to me by degrees; and in the uneventful routine upon which I had entered, I learned to consider them quite spicy and champagne-ish.

Mr. Summers called at fifteen minutes before nine, according to agreement, and we set out together for the Academy. It was a one-storied edifice, after a Grecian model, which probably looked well in marble, with classical surroundings, but which, repeated in dingy wood, with no surroundings at all, grated on an eye that studied the fitness of things. But, unfortunately, my business was with the inside; and I felt uneasy when I saw the formidable rows of desks.

'And now, Miss Wade,' said my companion, with admirable seriousness, 'you see your field of action. You will have charge of about thirty girls; and when they behave badly, so that you have any difficulty with them, just send them in to me.'

This sounded as though they were in the habit of behaving very badly indeed; but I doubted if sending them in to him would have been much of a punishment for any over fifteen.

There was one scholar there when I arrived—a tall, awkward-looking girl, somewhat my senior—whom Mr. Summers introduced as 'Helen Legram.' Her only beauty was a pair of very clear eyes, that seemed to comprehend me at a glance; for the rest, her face was oddly shaped, her figure bad; and a narrow merino scarf, tied around her throat, was not a becoming article of dress.

But scarcely had I made these observations when the Philistines were upon me—arriving by twos, threes, and fours, and pouring through the open door like overwhelming hordes of barbarians. Of course, every pair of eyes that entered was immediately fixed upon me; and, although I endeavored to keep up my dignity under the infliction, I could not help wishing that it were possible to be suddenly taken up and dropped into the middle of next week, when my mauvaise honte would have had a reasonable chance to wear off by several days' contact.

This beginning is a terrible lion blocking up the way of every undertaking, and never does he appear so formidable as at the outset of school teaching, unless it is in writing a story. I cast about in my mind for various models, as a sort of guide; but the only spirits that emerged from the vasty deep were Dr. Blimber and Cornelia. With an inconvenient perversity, they refused to be laid, and kept dancing before me all day. In entering upon my career, I was firmly impressed with two convictions: one was that I didn't know anything, and the other was that my pupils would speedily find it out.

The day began, as all sorts of days do; and through the open door of the adjoining apartment I watched Mr. Summers, and endeavored to follow all his proceedings. When he rang his bell, I rang mine; and, by dint of looking as wise and sober as I possibly could, I contrived to begin with a tolerable degree of success.

But a pair of clear eyes, that never seemed to be removed from my face, embarrassed me beyond expression. Their owner was a perfect bugbear. Such a formidable memory I never encountered; and in her recitations, which were long and frequent, I do not think she ever misplaced a letter. That girl had algebra written on her face; and when, in a slow, deliberate way, she approached me with slate, pencil, and book, I felt sure that this would prove my Manassas. I was inexpressibly relieved to discover that the problems, complicated enough to bring on a slow fever, were all unravelled; indeed, my feelings bore no small resemblance to those of a criminal at the gallows just presented with a reprieve.

All that I had to do was to say, 'Very well, indeed, Miss Legram; are you fond of algebra?' To which she replied, 'Very,' and went back to her seat.

Going in to Mr. Summers for some private instructions, I found his desk covered with votive offerings, as though it had been the shrine of some deity to be propitiated. There were large winter apples; hard winter pears; bunches of chrysanthemum; bags of chestnuts, and even popped corn; but the parcel that received the most honorable treatment was a paper of black-walnut kernels, carefully arranged and presented by a little, mild-eyed lame girl. I made a note of that.

With the dignity of a professor, Mr. Summers solved my difficulties; while I meekly listened, and wondered if this could be the half-boyish individual who had lifted me from the cars. He did not look over twenty-three, though, and, if not strictly handsome, had had a very narrow escape of it. His hair had a way of getting into his eyes, and he had a way of tossing it back as horses toss their manes; and this motion invariably brings up a train of associations connected with Mr. Summers.

The day's session was over, and the pupils had departed. I thought that Mr. Summers had departed also; and, nervous and wearied out with the unwonted strain upon my patience and equanimity, I applied myself dejectedly to the fascinating columns of 'Davies' Arithmetic,' for unless I speedily added to my small stock of knowledge, a mortifying expose would be the inevitable consequence. Why, thought I, with all the ills that man is naturally heir to, must some restless genius invent figures? The people in those examples have such an insane way of transacting business, I could make nothing of them; my answers never agreed with the key, but I fully agreed with the poor man who said so despairingly, 'Wat wi' faeth, and wat wi' the earth goin' round the sun, and wat wi' the railways all a whuzzin' and a buzzin', I'm clean muddled, confoozled, and bet!' and flinging the book out of sight, I gave myself up to the luxury of a good cry.

I had not been enjoying myself long, though, before I was interrupted; and as the crying was not intended for effect, the interruption was an unpleasant one. Of course, I had to answer that original question, 'What is the matter?' but instead of replying, after the most approved fashion in such cases, 'Nothing,' I went directly to the fountain head, and said, abruptly, 'Davies' Arithmetic.'

Mr. Summers quietly picked up the book, and I saw that he understood the matter at once—for the dimples in his cheeks deepened perceptibly, and beneath the dark mustache there was a gleam of white teeth. My face grew hot as I noted these signs, and I exclaimed desperately:

'Mr. Summers, I should like, if you please, to resign my situation. I am aware that I must seem to you like an impostor, for I cannot do anything at all with figures; and I thought'—

Here I broke down, and cried again, and Mr. Summers finished the sentence by saying:

'You thought that you would not be called upon to teach arithmetic? A very natural conclusion, and there is no reason why you should. I prefer taking charge of these classes myself—but no one can supply your place in French and music.'

'A sugar plum for the baby,' thought I, and kept silence.

'I think, though,' continued my mentor, 'that anything as dry and practical as figures is a very good exercise for an imaginative turn of mind, by supplying a sort of balancing principle; and, if you would like to improve yourself in this branch, I should take great pleasure in assisting you.'

Very kindly done, certainly, and I accepted the offer with eagerness. I was to rest that evening, he said—I had had enough for one day; but it was understood that on other evenings generally he was to come to Mr. Bull's and instruct his assistant teacher in the A B C of mathematics. I could not help thinking that few employers would have taken this trouble.

Mr. Bull appeared to be of no earthly use in the household except to go to the door, which, in Peppersville, was not an onerous duty; and had I not so frequently seen the same thing, I should have wondered what Mrs. Bull ever married him for. From frequent references to the time 'when Mr. Bull was in the store,' I came to the conclusion that he had once dealt in the heterogeneous collection of articles usually found in such places. I was not informed whether Mr. Bull had 'given up the store,' or whether 'the store' had given up Mr. Bull; but I was disposed to entertain the latter idea.

There was no servant in the establishment except an old Indian woman, who amused herself by preparing vegetables and washing dishes in the kitchen—not being at all active, in consequence of having lost part of her feet from indulging in a fancy for a couch of snow on one of the coldest nights of the preceding winter, when, to use a charitable phrase, 'she was not quite herself.' I believe that, even after this melancholy warning, that eccentric person was frequently somebody else. 'However,' as Mrs. Bull said, 'she didn't disturb any one'—and although I could not exactly see the force of this reasoning, I treated it with respectful silence for Mrs. Bull's sake.

Miss Friggs, who was 'quite one of the family,' and had lived in it so long that I believe she almost persuaded herself that she had been born in it, 'did' her own room—which was perfectly appalling with its fearful neatness. There was not a thread on the carpet, nor a particle of dust in the corners; and the bed, when made up, was as accurately proportioned as though it had all been scientifically measured off. I have caught glimpses of Miss Friggs going about this business with her head carefully tied up, as though it might burst with the immensity of her ideas on the subject; and when she had finished, you might have eaten off the floor—that is, if you preferred it to a table. This was her one occupation in life, and she did it thoroughly; but it seemed too sad to have so few occupations that any could be accomplished in so faultless a manner.

Fired with honest but misguided zeal, I one morning entered the lists against Miss Friggs in a vain attempt to make my own bed; but those horrid feathers acted like the things in the Philosopher's Scales, for when some were up, others were down; neither north nor south, east nor west would agree to terms of equality, and it was impossible to bring them to any sort of compromise.

I related my experience to Mrs. Bull; and when I assured her that I had crawled all over the bed in the vain attempt to bring some order out of chaos, she was more amused, in her quiet way, than I had ever known her to be. She desired me, however, to leave the room, to her in future, as she enjoyed it, and I could not be expected to do everything. I did not interfere with her measures again.

A lesson had been given me to look over; and on Mr. Summers's first visit to me, in Mrs. Bull's parlor, I felt as if he had been a dentist with evil designs on my largest grinder. He was as cool as though he had been fifty and I five, and behaved himself generally as though it were a very common thing for youthful principals to give private lessons to their young lady-teachers.

Mr. Bull had made a fire, which was another talent that I discovered in him; and Mrs. Bull had given the room as much of a look of comfort as a room can have that is very seldom used. The good woman had even placed a dish of apples and doughnuts on a table in the corner—which, she said, were always on hand when Mr. Bull was paying his addresses to her; but the family did not appear to put any such construction on Mr. Summer's visits to me. I had told them that we had a great deal of school business in common; and they seemed to think it quite natural that we should have.

And to business Mr. Summers proceeded immediately on his arrival, throwing me into a state of complete confusion by asking me questions not definitely set down in the book, and calmly allowing me to blunder through to something like an end without the least interruption or assistance. I, whose childhood had for some time been made miserable by the question of a sharp schoolmate, 'Which is the heaviest—a pound of lead or a pound of feathers?' and her calm persistence that they were both alike, in spite of my passionate denial in favor of lead, was not likely to distinguish myself at these sittings; and whatever I had hitherto admired in Mr. Summers was now eclipsed by my appreciation of his extraordinary patience.

'You must think me a perfect fool!' I exclaimed, unguardedly.

'No,' replied my imperturbable companion, 'I consider you a very fair average.'

I bit my lip in anger at myself, and turned assiduously to my slate and pencil.

'You will take that for next time,' said my preceptor, rising at the end of an hour, and calling my attention to a portion that he had marked in pencil, 'when I shall be more particular about your recitations. Good evening.'

'Very romantic,' thought I, as I walked rather discontentedly into the sitting room, and I wondered what sort of stuff Mr. Summers was made of. I began to be afraid that I might be piqued into flirting with him.

He seemed to have the talent, though, of winning golden opinions from all sorts of people. Mr. Bull pronounced him 'a cute chap,' and 'real clever, too,' for he did not consider the terms synonymous. Mrs. Bull said that he was just the right person in the right place; and Miss Friggs declared that he was 'a young man among a thousand.' Not at Peppersville, certainly, for there were but five others in the place; but, to use the phraseology most in vogue there, they could not hold a candle to him.

That quiet, overgrown girl, with her faultless recitations and steady pursuance of one idea, interested me exceedingly, and I determined to find out her history. I spoke of her to Mr. Summers, and he replied:

'Oh, yes; Helen Legram is quite an original. 'Born of poor, but respectable parents,' I have little doubt that she will turn out like the heroes of all biographies that commence in a similar manner. Her father is a very plain farmer, living somewhere among the mountains, with a large family to provide for; and Helen, in consequence, has hitherto enjoyed no advantages in the way of education beyond those obtained from an occasional quarter at the district school. In the intervals she had to wash, bake, mend, and make, with untiring industry, with short snatches of reading, her only indulgence; until, last summer, a relative, well to do in the world, spent some months at the mountain farm, and presented Helen with the means of obtaining her heart's desire—a thorough education. To that end she is now assiduously devoting herself in the spirit of Milton, who 'cared not how late he came into life, only that he came fit.' Helen Legram is a plain, unformed country girl; but she has those three handmaids of talent who so frequently eclipse their mistress: industry, patience, and perseverance; and I prophesy that not only will she succeed in her present undertaking, but win for herself a name among the Hannah Mores and Corinnes of posterity. What a wife such a woman would make!'

I wondered if he was engaged to her? They were about the same age, and being entirely opposite in every respect, it was quite natural that they should fall in love with each other.

I had some trouble with my tall pupil in French, as she had not quite the Parisian accent, and at her time of life it was not easy to acquire it. She persevered, though, with unparalleled firmness; and as she wished to study Latin, I was obliged to learn it myself, from Mr. Summers. I pitied that man when I began to stumble through the declensions. Virgil would have torn his hair in frenzy at such rendering of his lines, and I should have been very sorry to encounter him alone. There we sat, hour after hour, in Mrs. Bull's parlor, scarcely a word passing between us except on the subject of Latin or arithmetic. Mr. Summers was an excellent teacher; and it was worth my sojourn in Peppersville to learn what I did.

One evening, however, we were rather more sociable; and in answer to some remark of mine, Mr. Summers asked me where I supposed he was born!

Beginning with Maine, I went regularly through the Eastern States, with a strong desire to leave him in Massachusetts; but, very much to my surprise, he denied them all.

'New York, then, or New Jersey,' I persisted.

Mr. Summers only smiled; and then I tried the Hoosier States, where they are 'half horse and half alligator;' his figure was somewhat in the backwoodsman style. But none of these would do.

'Then,' said I, out of all patience, 'you could not have been born anywhere. I give it up.'

'Well,' was the reply, 'I think you might as well, for you would never guess.'

And here the matter ended. But frequently afterward did I find myself wondering what portion of the globe Mr. Summers could claim as his own, his native land; for I had come to the conclusion that he might not be an American at all.

Skating season arrived; and all Peppersville took to the lake like a colony of ducks. It was splendidly exhilarating, and my crotchet needle had for some time previous been flying through tangled mazes of crimson worsted, to the great admiration of the household, in the manufacture of a skating cap.

I must have been built expressly for going on ice, for it seemed like my native element. Those beautiful moonlight nights, with the cold blue sky above and the glittering crystal beneath, were like glimpses of fairyland. Mr. Summers taught me how to skate, for which I was sufficiently grateful; but I had no idea of being handed over to him exclusively for the benefit of Peppersville, so I seized upon 'big boys,' or staid, married men, or anything that came handy in the way of support, until I was sufficiently experienced to go alone.

Helen Legram did not skate. Nothing could induce her to venture; and probably, while we were cultivating our heels on the ice, she was cultivating her head in milder latitudes. I thought, then, that she was to be pitied; but, two weeks later, I would have given all that I possessed to have followed her example in the beginning.

It was intensely cold that night, and somehow my skates were very troublesome. Mr. Summers bent down to arrange them, and I declined making use of his shoulder as a support. I never knew how I did it, but ice is slippery; I performed an extraordinary slide—kicked Mr. Summers directly in the mouth, thereby knocking out one of his front teeth, as though I had been a vicious horse—and went backward into the arms of the oldest male pupil of the Peppersville Academy, while my unfortunate victim, knocked into a state of insensibility, fell prostrate on the ice.

A crowd gathered, of course, and raised their venerable preceptor, and brought him to his senses, while I was congratulated on my escape. I looked upon this as the most awkward predicament I had ever been placed in, and was completely nonplussed as to the course of action to be pursued under the circumstances. Had I been in love with Mr. Summers, or he with me, the case would have been different; as it was, I would have given much to have changed places with him. He declared, however, that it was nothing, laughed about the accident, and said that one tooth more or less made very little difference. Had he been a woman, he never would have forgiven me.

The next morning, Mr. Summers was not at school, and Helen Legram took his place. They boarded in the same house; and from her I learned that his mouth was so much swollen he could scarcely speak. It was very disagreeable, certainly; but, having weighed the matter all the morning, I came to the conclusion by afternoon, that it was decidedly my duty to go and see after Mr. Summers.

I found him in the parlor, considerably disfigured; and Helen Legram was making him some pap—that being the only style of sustenance upon which he could venture. His mouth was very sore, for the sharp runner of a skate is rather a formidable weapon; but he laughed with his eyes when I presented myself, and seemed to enjoy my embarrassment.

'I do not see how it happened,' said I, very much annoyed.

'All that I know of the case,' replied Mr. Summers, quite as though it had been somebody else's case, 'is that, while engaged in the discharge of my duty, a cloud of dimity suddenly floated before my eyes—a stunning shock ensued—I saw stars—and then exit into the region of know-nothingdom.'

Rather awkwardly, I suppose, I offered myself as head nurse, having been the cause of the mischief; but Mr. Summers, with many thanks for the offer, did not think there would be any necessity for availing himself of it. I felt very sorry for him, and quite as sorry for myself.

In a few days the principal returned to his school duties. He possessed a remarkable degree of reticence; and, owing to this blessed quality, no one but ourselves and Helen Legram ever knew of my share in that unfortunate accident. I felt rather guilty whenever allusion was made to it by some well-meaning person; but I noticed that Mr. Summers always turned the conversation as soon as possible. We were on more social terms after that disaster; and somehow the evenings spent over Latin and arithmetic became less practical, and decidedly more interesting. Mr. Summers, however, was very cautious, and so was I. He never seemed to be swayed by impulse; and I should have nipped anything like tenderness in the bud.

One evening, however, I was considerably astonished at him, and not a little indignant. The 'faculty' of the Peppersville Academy were invited to a small party at the house of one of its wealthiest patrons, who lived some miles out of town.

They sent a covered wagon for us, and a 'boy,' that indispensable article in the country, to drive us.

The boy seemed to drive with his eyes shut; suddenly, there was a terrific jolt, and I screamed and clung to Mr. Summers for protection. Under the circumstances this was unavoidable; but, as he seemed disposed to retain my hand, I tried to disengage it.

It was held in a firm grasp; and I said, in a tone that could not be mistaken: 'Mr. Summers!'

My hand was immediately released; and neither of us spoke another word during the drive.

I did not enjoy that party. I was angry at Mr. Summers, and I let him see it; but I had no patience with any other man in the room. In driving back, Mr. Summers 'thought that he would sit outside, to get a little fresh air,'—which, as the thermometer stood at twenty, must have been exhilarating. I was handed out in silence, and went to bed in as bad a humor as that in which many a belle comes from the ball room.

There was a coolness between us for several days, which gradually thawed into a more genial state of things, but it did not seem to me that it ever became quite as it was before.

All winter there were rumblings deep and continual in the political sky—sometimes the sun broke out, and people said that it was going to clear; but usually the weathercocks predicted a long, southerly storm. I never saw a man so full of prophecy as Mr. Bull. One would have supposed that every hour brought him telegraphic despatches both from the real and the spurious Congress; and that President Lincoln and Jeff. Davis were both convinced of their utter inability to take any steps without the cognizance and approval of Mr. Bull.

Mrs. Bull said mildly that 'she hoped it would blow over;' but Mr. Bull exclaimed indignantly that 'he didn't want it to blow over—he wanted it to blow out and done with it, if it was goin' to, and not keep a threatenin' all to no purpose. It was high time that things was settled, and people knew what was what. If we was goin' to hev a rumpus, he hoped we'd hev it.'

If the old man had not been really good-natured and inoffensive, I should have taken him in hand; but these disconnected remarks appeared to give him so much pleasure that it would have been cruel to deprive him of it.

Helen Legram had a reverential way of speaking of Mr. Summers that provoked me; but she told me one day, when I laughed at this, that no one who knew his life could do otherwise. And how did she 'know his life'? He had never disclosed it to me—and I could not see what there was in Helen Legram to entitle her to this confidence. They certainly were engaged—everything went to prove it; and, if I had been at all in love with Mr. Summers, I should have classed the feeling that pervaded me under the head of jealousy.

Mr. Bull 'guessed that Mr. Summers and that tall gal were goin' to make a match of it;' and, when I assented to the proposition, he added that 'she didn't pretty much, but he kalkilated she'd make a good, stirrin' wife for a young man who had his livin' to get. Should hev kind o' thought,' continued Mr. Bull, who seemed to love the subject, 'that he'd hev fancied you; but there's no accountin' for tastes.'

I glided out of the room unperceived, and the old gentleman probably talked confidentially to the four walls for some time afterward.

* * * * *

Sumter had fallen; and the whole school broke out in badges. Peppersville was on fire, and burning, of course, in red, white, and blue flames. No one bought a dress even that had not the loyal colors displayed somewhere in it; and a man who did not wear a cockade was rather looked askance upon.

Mr. Bull was in his element, and spent his time principally in going to the post office in search of news, and asking everybody's political shibboleth. The subject was discussed at every meal. Mr. Bull thought that half the members of Congress ought to have been hung long ago. Miss Friggs, who sometimes attempted the poetical, said that it made her heart bleed to think of the glorious figure of Liberty wandering desolate and forsaken, with her costly robe of stars and stripes trailing in the dust; and Mrs. Bull, who was one of the wisest women I ever knew, prudently said nothing on a subject which she did not quite understand.

The militia of Peppersville began to turn out in rusty regimentals, and cut up queer antics in the street; and Mr. Summers, who appeared to have a talent for everything, took them in hand to drill.

'Do you understand military tactics?' I inquired in surprise.

'Somewhat,' was the reply. He had been captain of a company of boy soldiers; and, now that I came to think of it, there was something decidedly military in his bearing.

'If I were only a man!' I exclaimed, discontentedly, 'I would be off to the war and distinguish myself; but a woman is good for nothing but to be insignificant.'

'The works of a watch are 'insignificant,' in one sense,' observed my companion; 'but what would the watch he without them?'

'I do not see any application in this case,' I replied, indifferently.

'A woman,' said he, bending down to adjust some papers, 'is often the Miriam and Aaron of some Moses whose hands need holding up. Many a bullet that finds the heart of an enemy is sent, not by the hand that pulls the trigger, but by a softer hand miles away. Something, or rather some one, to work for, is an incentive to great deeds.'

Mr. Summers's face was flushed; and he looked suddenly up when he had done speaking.

I withdrew my eyes in confusion, and, with the careless remark, 'Mrs. Partington would tell you that you were speaking paregorically,' I left a place that was getting entirely too hot to hold me.

A few days after, Mr. Summers started for the seat of war, with the commission of first lieutenant, and Helen Legram became principal of the Peppersville Academy. I think that bright spring days are disagreeable, glaring things, when some one whom you like and have been accustomed to see in certain places, is seen there no more; and the day that Mr. Summers left, I was out of all patience with the April sunshine.

He had said no more: a friendly pressure of the hand from him, and a sincerely expressed hope on my part that he would return unharmed—a request from Mr. Bull to 'give it to 'em well'—a caution from Mrs. Bull not to expose himself, if he could help it, to the night air—a pincushion from Miss Friggs, because men never have conveniences-and he was gone, with, no reasonable prospect of his return.

I said this to myself a great many times; but I also said that I did not go to Peppersville to fall in love with the principal of the Academy.

Those everlasting recitations began to be unendurable; the walks about Peppersville were totally uninteresting, and I did not know what to do with myself. I cultivated Helen Legram; and, during the vacation, she took me home with her to the farm.

It seemed like a new life, that three weeks' visit, and I enjoyed it extremely. We went on expeditions up the mountains, and lived a sort of vagrant life that was just what we both needed. The roar of cannon could not reach us there; the sight of bleeding, dying men was far away; and we almost forgot that the teeth of the children whom she had nourished at her breast were tugging at the vitals of the Union.

One afternoon, amid the fragrant odor of pine trees, Helen Legram told me the story of Mr. Summers's life.

He was born and educated in Florida, much to my astonishment, and had entailed upon him the misery of a worthless, dissipated father. His mother, after dragging out a saddened existence, sank into the grave when her youngest boy was just entering upon the years of boyhood. Finally, the elder Summers, who had always boasted of his patrician blood, killed a man in a fit of mingled passion and intemperance, and then cheated the gallows of its due by putting an end to his own life. His property was quite exhausted; and the two sons who survived him could only look upon his death as a release from continued mortification and disgrace. An uncle's house was open to receive them; but, before many years had elapsed, Arthur Summers, who was described as a miracle of manly beauty, changed his name for that of a rich heiress who bestowed herself and her lands upon him, and requested his brother to follow his example in the matter of the name at once, and in the matter of the heiress as soon as convenient.

Elihu Summers, however, persisted in retaining the name that his father had disgraced; he said that he would redeem it, and declared that no wife of his should furnish him with bread while his brain and hands were in working order. His brother looked upon him as a harmless lunatic; but Elihu was firm, and took up his abode at the North, as better calculated to further his design. After a series of adventures he became principal of the Peppersville Academy, with the view of ultimately studying a profession; and there he had been for two years when I came in contact with him.

I had been studying Helen Legram's face during this recital; and at its conclusion I asked her if she was engaged to Mr. Summers.

'No, I am not engaged to him,' she replied, with a vivid blush; 'I have good reason to suppose that he is attached to some one else.'

'Well,' thought I, as I noted the blush, 'if not engaged to him, you are certainly in love with him;' and I felt sorry for her if it was not returned.

I did not go back to Peppersville that summer—I had had enough of school teaching; and I returned to the relatives with whom I had become disgusted, on promises of better behavior from them for the future. They were not near relatives—I had none; and I had rebelled at being tutored and watched like a child. Having fully asserted my independence, I was treated with more respect; but, while they supposed that I was nestling down in quiet content, I was busily casting about in my mind the practicability of another venture.

I burned to do something for my country; I could not do as meek women did, and sit down and sew for it; the monotonous motion of the needle, which some people call so soothing, fairly distracted me; and, in spite of the low diet of Latin and mathematics on which I had been kept all winter, I entertained vague visions of myself, in cropped hair and army blue, following the drum.

Just at this critical juncture, when common sense was spreading her pinions for flight, I received a letter from a darling Mentor of a friend, who was spending the golden sunshine of her life as her Saviour spent His, in doing good; and she ordered me to the hospitals.

'You have youth and health,' she wrote; 'spend them in the service of your country. Many a brave soldier lies stiffening in his gore on the bloody field of Manassas; many as brave are writhing in agony in the hospitals that received the wounded of that disastrous day; go among them with words of comfort, and smooth the pillow of those brave defenders whose blood has been freely poured out to enable you to sleep in peace.'

I could wait no longer; in spite of protestation, I put my chattels in order, and was off with a noble band of women, who were all bent on the same errand.

I had heard nothing from Mr. Summers since his departure: he might have been killed at Manassas, or have fallen, side by side with the noble Winthrop, at Big Bethel, or have perished, as the lamented Ellsworth perished, by the hand of the assassin. I never expected to behold him again in this world; and I began to think that I had not appreciated him.

* * * * *

I cannot describe my life as hospital nurse: it was just passing from one scene of suffering to another; and I had not realized that there could be so much misery in this bright, beautiful world. At first I used to tremble and faint; but finally the intense desire to do something for these poor, mutilated wrecks of humanity conquered the weakness; and I even wondered at my own self-control.

There were pleasant gleams, too, in this life, of utter self-abandonment; blessings from fever-parched lips; grateful looks from dying eyes; pleased attention to holy words; and, wrapping all like a halo, the thought that I was working in very deed, ay, and battling, too, for the glorious flag that floated over my head.

They were constantly bringing in fresh patients, and the sight roused no curiosity; but one day, such a ghastly face was upturned to view, as they placed the shattered body tenderly on a cot, that, involuntarily, I bent closer.