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rub-a-dub to their greatness, and blow their higher intelligence from such a scholar; yet glory to the world from blatant brass. Now, somehow he never could master the monosylthe Turveytopians have no soldiers; but they lable. • Good' would be the word of the give the same amount of honour to their school- teacher, and still the fat-bellied boy would masters. They have a belief that it is quite as spell 'p-i-g.' How our dear schoolmaster noble to build up a mind as to hack à body; would look perplexed! How plainly I could that to teach meekness, content–is as high a see him striving to account for the confusion in feat as to cut a man through the shoulder bone; the pupil's mind, that still from year to year that, in a word, it is as wise and useful, and had gone on spelling 'good' with the letters surely as seemly in the eye of watchful Heaven, 'p-i-g. The simple monosyllable was a trying to fill the human brain with thoughts of good- task for many of the scholars. Indeed, how ness, as to scatter it from a skull, cleft by the few of them from the defect of their previous sword in twain. Hence, the schoolmaster in worldly education--could spell the word the Turveytop is a great social authority, honoured proper way! The old admiral I have already by the state. The savage counts his glories by spoken of, always insisted upon spelling it scalps; the refined man of war by his gazettes. "g-r-o-g. From my heart, I pitied the schoolThe general kills five thousand men-defeats master; for whilst other teachers were seeing some twenty thousand. He may have picked a the young Turveytopians advance in all their quarrel with them, that he might pick his sprig daily lessons, and so, doing their master honour of laurel, and rejoice in lawful plunder. He in the land, our poor pedagogue was doomed to has done his work upon humanity; he has acted sit almost hopelessly amid a crowd of dunces, his part in the world—a world of human sym whose dull or debauched faculties rendered pathies--and he becomes earl, or steps up duke them incapable of the easiest tasks. It is his rightful wage, paid by a grateful no word of passion or reproach ever escaped the hand. The schoolmaster of Turveytop numbers teacher. Poor little boy,' he would say, with a his scholars; shows the heroes he has made; sigh, having hammered for an hour and more at the victors over self among his army; the the word 'good,' while some foxhunting urchin, troops of wise and peaceful citizens he has mar with his hands in his pockets, and a brassy shalled for the field of life, and is honoured and confidence in his face, would spell dog ;'rewarded accordingly.”

poor little boy,' the giant schoolmaster would “And you were sent to one of these great exclaim, it is not your fault, poor heart! no, pedagogues—these laurelled teachers ?"

it is the dark, dreadful world you have come “ Excellent old man!” cried the Hermit. from !' It is a sad thing to think of,” said the “He was sorely tried by some of us.

by some of us. The per- Hermit, “yet are there many, many pupils, verseness, the stupidity of some of my school- growing hoary, and still mis-spelling good, fellows passes belief; yet the master's sweetness nay, dying, and still unable to master that of spirit was unconquerable. Some of his easy monosyllable. For I know not how pupils he never could teach to spell the com many hundred years King Arthur there, in monest syllables. There was one boy-in our the preparatory school of Turveytop, has been world he would have passed for about sixty-five sulking with his thumb in his mouth, still —who never could master the word good. For spelling 'b-l-0-0-d' for 'good' The last time years, as I understood, he had been haggling at I saw him he had on a dunce's paper cap, made it. Now, my poor little boy,' I have heard the out of a poem written in this world to his schoolmaster cry a hundred and a hundred times, especial honour.” a melancholy smile upon his reverend face, " And King Arthur, and King Sebastian, too, now, my child, spell me good! Whereupon you have talked with them in Turveytop?” the pupil-a thin-faced, greenish-eyed fellow,

we cried. and, as I learned, a former dealer in foreign “ Most certainly," said the Hermit. stocks, would answer 'g-o-l-d. And thus it “ And Numa Pompilius?”— had been with him for years; and thus, if alive, " And Joanna Southcote,cried the sage. it may be with him now. Wretched little “ Is it possible?” we exclaimed.

" Joanna dunce! He could not comprehend any other Southcote! Then she is not dead? That is, she way of spelling good than g-o-l-d. He, how will keep her word, and come back to us?” ever, was not alone in his dulness. No; there And open a baby linen warehouse," said were twenty other scholars from the outside the Hermit; "she told me as much for the world who still stumbled at the syllable. Will comfort of her believers; - though, to confess it be believed ? — There was one boy, about the truth, I have never until now bragged of fifty-two, with a drum-like belly and a some my acquaintance with her. As, however, she what purplish nose. It was whispered that, ere has been given up as incurable by the Turveyhe was brought to Turveytop, he had been a topians, there is but little chance of her returnvicar, more than apostolically sharp for his ing to this world, since they suffer no one to tithes. Well, sir, you would have expected come back who does not at least promise con

.

66 And

me,”

says, under

tinued amendment. Now, Joanna, as I have

Now, Joanna, as I have confessed what, I fear me, many believe and said, is incurable."

practise, yet vehemently deny. The woman And what her malady?” we asked.

spoke in earnest, and that's something. And I Lying, sir,” answered the sage.

fear me, she spoke truly of the world's hunger her great grief is, that nobody in Turveytop at intervals for imposition. It is, I suppose, with will believe her. Poor thing! How she la the multitude as sometimes with single Nokes ments her loss of this world! She dwelt alone or Styles : truth becomes to them monotonous in a little cottage, and being famous for her -propriety dulness; and so they get a zest tea-cakes—for there is a sort of sanctity that for a lie, and make holiday with extravagance. hath a quick sense of kitchen comforts—was Nay, sir, if we look philosophically into the much visited by King Arthur, Sebastian, and matter, the greater the outrage offered to their other dunces of Turveytop. I deny it not; I minds, the deeper, by consequence, their faith have made one at these meetings. She was a in it. A zany boasts his daily intercourse with sleek-looking, cosey woman, with a voice like angelic spirits : the daring of the falsehood a flute. On my first visit to her,--for there was carries away the imagination of weak and something about her that somewhat tickled simple folks who clap hands with the impostor,

that they may be nearer to his celestial intelli“ Her tea-cakes ?” we ventured in the smallest gences. The spiritual mountebank, juggling voice to observe.

with human hopes and fears, offers a closer “Well, sir," said the Hermit, with a smile, knowledge of the mystery of mysteries. Hence, “ when there be not other virtues, let even tea the dupe is often born of the zealot. Enough cakes pass for something ;-on my first visit, of this. Perhaps, some day Joanna will be she would have devoured me for news. “Any- again in the world : though, as she thing stirring in my way in London ?' she asked. another name, and preaching forth another I answered, “No, madam; nothing whatever. marvel. It has been thus almost since truth I left all the people very dull-not at all what was born-and she came smiling from chaos they were when you were among them.'— Well, upon the earth—and will be thus until the I did give them a rouse,' she said; and then end." mournfully added, but I suppose they have

“And the Turveytopians ? What of their forgotten me?'- Why, the truth is, madam, government--their laws, and customs ?ingratitude is the public's sin; nevertheless, you “Of such matters know I nothing," said the are still spoken of, and by a hopeful few are Hermit, “save that the schoolmasters were, so promised back again. The worst of it is, should to speak, the nobility of the people. We you really return, I fear there will be unbelievers scholars, spirited from the outside world to be who, even to your face, will disown you.'— brought up and taught in all things anew, were • Never mind that,' said Joanna; only let me confined to the nursery, the school-room and get back again, and I warrant me I'll have the play-grounds. Indeed, save that the beneworld by the nose once more. As for being volence of our masters was more remarkable disowned, why, for the matter of that, I'd take than in the teachers of dancing-dogs, they another name, and start a new mystery. Is seemed to look upon us as inferior creatures, there, at the present time, think you, room for that might, with time and pains, be taught some such a novelty?'-'As I have said, madam, we tricks of humanity—that possibly, from a sojourn have been somewhat dull in such matters of in Turveytop, might be made less mischievous late. There has been no new prophet on the to one another when sent back to the world we stage for some time.'—Then the world wants were taken from. Hence, I saw but little of

Don't tell me, I know it : bless you, after the political and social condition of Turveytop. a season, the world gets sick and tired of its old, There ran a legend that, many hundred years old truths,—and longing, hungering for a good ago, there arose a civil war in the land, which lie, will swallow anything. Otherwise, do you was ended in a way it would be pleasant to see think I should have gone down as I did ? though imitated." even I made one great mistake-my lie was not “ How, sir?" we asked. quite strong enough.'— Pretty well, I think, “Why, the two parties had armed themselves madam.'- Not at all,' said Joanna ; and then with swords and spears and battle-axes—things I gave it too short a date. Nevertheless, I unknown till then—and guns and cannon,

and did hook 'em,-folks of all degrees,-a good all the devilry which laurels come of. Thus sprinkling of the high with the low-gentle armed, the divided people took the field. The and simple-rich and poor. Well, if there is opposing chiefs had marked their ground, and any sport worthy of human enjoyment, it is every man rubbed his hands—for the Turveycheating our fellow-creatures.'

topians were, for the time, frantic with malice " The old harridan !” we cried.

-at the sweet thought of chopping his neigh“ Still give her the praise of an ingenuous bour through the skull, whilst those birds of tongue,” said the Hermit. “ Joanna only glory, the vultures, were already cock-a-whoop

one.

for human flesh. Now, at that time the Tur- then send a loud ha! ha! through the universe, veytopians worshipped, among other divinities, and be reverently grateful for the privilege.' a certain God of Laughter. I know not that “And the Turveytopians, you say, sir, had such was his name; but mirth, loud, reckless, their God of Laughter?” rollicking mirth, was his high attribute. This “And, from what I could gather, he held a most god had of late been much neglected. The exalted place in their Pantheon. Sweet, too, espeTurveytopians—having their hearts filled with cially sweet, was one of their customs of sacrifice. rancour, and in the drunkenness of their wrath It was this. A man always dedicated his first joke, yearning for nought but blood and wounds, whatever it may have been, to the God of Laughhad wickedly neglected the service of that bene ter. There was a fine spirit of gratitude in the ficent Numen. Oh, glorious laughter!"--cried practice, a sweet acknowledgment of the honied the sage of Bellyfulle, falling back in his chair, uses of mirth in this our daily draught of life, and turning his broad shining face upwards, otherwise cold, and flatulent, and bitter. This whilst his eyes twinkled benignly, and his lips first offering was always a matter of great solemseemed trembling with a jest—" thou man

jest - " thou man- nity. The maker of the joke, whether man or loving spirit, that for a time dost take the maid, was taken in pompous procession to the burden from the weary back—that dost lay shrine of the god. And there, the joke-beausalve to the feet, bruised and cut by flints and tifully worked in letters of gold upon some richshards—that takest blood-baking melancholy coloured silk or velvet—was given in to the by the nose, and makest it grin despite itself, flamen, who read it to the assembled people, that all the sorrows of the past, the doubts of who roared approving laughter. The joker the future, confoundest in the joy of the pre was then taken back in triumph to his house, sent—that makes man truly philosophic-con- and feasting and sports for nine days marked queror

of himself and care! What was talked this his first act of citizenship; for I should of as the golden chain of Jore, was nothing but tell you that no jokeless man could claim any a succession of laughs, a chromatic scale of civil rights. Hence, when the man began to merriment, reaching from earth to Olympus. joke, he was considered fit for the gravest It is not true that Prometheus stole the fire, but offices of human government; and not till the laughter of the gods, to deify our clay, and then !” in the abundance of our merriment, to make us “What! no civil rights? Had he no vote-if reasonable creatures. Have you ever considered, indeed there were votes in Turveytop—for his sir, what man would be, destitute of the ennobling representative in the Senate ?-forfaculty of laughter? Why, sir, laughter is to Sir,” replied the Hermit, gravely," he had the face of man—what sinovia, I think ana no voice in any thing; not even in the making tomists call it, is to his joints,-it oils, and of a beadle. The man without a joke in Turlubricates, and makes the human countenance veytop was a wretch, an outcast; indeed, to divine. Without it, our faces would have been give you the strongest, the truest comparison, rigid, hyena-like; the iniquities of our heart, he was what your man in England is, without with no sweet antidote to work upon them, a guinea." would have made the face of the best among us « Miserable wretch !" we cried. " And what a horrid, husky thing, with two sullen, hungry, became of these creatures ?" cruet lights at the top-for foreheads would “ As I learned, the jokeless did all the foul have then gone out of fashion-and a cavernous and menial work. Miserable men, indeed! I hole below his nose. Think of a babe without have heard of a country in which the social laughter, as it is, its first intelligence! The dignity and moral intelligence of the man was creature shows the divinity of its origin and computed by the soap he was wont to outlay end, by smiling upon us: yes, smiles are its upon his anatomy. He might be too poor to first talk with the world, smiles the first answers

soap; never mind that; it was a territhat it understands. And then, as worldly ble thing, and stung the penniless offender like wisdom comes upon the little thing, it crows, it a nettle to call him the unwashed !'. Now, in chuckles, it grins, and shaking in its nurse's Turveytop, it amounted to the same degree of arms, or in waggish humour playing bo-peep ignoniny to call a man the jokeless! Some of with the breast, it reveals its high destiny- these might be in tatters and starving; well, declares, to him with ears to hear it, the heir- they would ask charity, and how? They would dom of its immortality. Let materialists blas say nothing of rags and hunger, but stopping the pheme as gingerly and as acutely as they will

, rich, they would despairingly slap the forehead, they must find confusion in laughter. Man may and in a hollow voice, cry .No joke!' Thus, in take a triumphant stand upon his broad grins; those days of Turveytop, jokes gave dignity to for he looks around the world, and his inner the highest offices of the state. Senators and most soul, sweetly tickled with the knowledge, magistrates thought of nothing but making a tells him that he alone of all creatures laughs. joke of their functions and reputation. They Imagine, if you can, a laughing fish. Let man had their great reward not only in the admi.

buy the

ration of the people, but in the high degree of will and support; and, alas, poor gods! with mental expression and physical beauty which swaggering, blaspheming impudence, thanks their genius, constantly exercised, inevitably them for his good fortune in robbery and awarded them."

slaughter. To hear of certain thanksgivings “ Have jokes such benign power upon their for successful battle, should we not believe that makers ?” we asked.

the devil had made his Adam, and that the Unquestionably,” answered the Hermit, slaughtered creatures were children of the destartled at the question. “Take a sulky fellow, mon handiwork, begotten by the evil prinwith a brow ever wrinkled at the laughing ciple, to be zealously attacked and butchered hours, let them laugh ever so melodiously by the progeny of him who walked and talked who looks with a death's head at the pleasant with God in Paradise? It would seem thus; fruits of the earth heaped upon his table, but it is not so. No, we are children of one who leaves his house for business as an ogre Father, and when we have killed some thouleaves his cave for food—who returns home sand brethren or so, why with unwashed hands joyless and grim to his silent wife and creeping and demure faces, we thank God for his good children,-take such a man, and, if possible, help in the fratricide. In the outside world of teach him to joke. Why, sir, 'twould be like brazen brows, there is no impudence like the turning a mandril into an Apollo. A hearty impudence of what men call religion.” jest kills an ugly face. The divine nature of “Still, sir,” we urged, “ you wander from the man irradiates and ennobles what at first sight battle of Turveytop.' seems wholly animal. What a mighty joker was “Right: to wander is a besetting sin of mine. Socrates! Yes, joker, sir; and rightly have the Keep we now to the story. Well, sir, the two sculptors imagined that knotty countenance, armies were about to fight, when the God of sublimed and sweetened by the laughing spirit Joking—whose shrine had been sadly despised within! Now, the jokeless of Turveytop--as it and neglected in preparation for the war-rewas related to me--became physically forlorn; solved to put an end to the wickedness, and so the sympathy of mind and flesh was so active. to bring the Turveytopians back again to jests Hence, they were drudges, scavengers, bone- and reason. Whereupon, as the story runs, grubbers, pickers-up of old rags and iron, bearers the God Jocus repaired to a high hill near the of burdens, outcasts, miserable creatures ;-the battle-field, and seating himself

cross-legged on jokers all the while sitting high in place, their its summit, called his thousands of servants cheeks greasy with the marrow of the earth, about him, giving them due orders for their their eyes twinkling with its nectar.”

goodly work. The god surveyed the hosts below “Strange, indeed!" we cried.

him with a wan smile, and then clapping his “Aye, sir,” said the Hermit, “ for there are hands to his sides, he laughed a laugh of thunplaces in which, nine times out of ten, your der. On this, the trumpets brayed once, and joker is the lean drudge, and the dull fellow once only, and the armies engaged. In a mohas the pot-belly, the purple nose, and the full ment the god saw that his sprites—there were purse.

immortal thousands, though born of human “And now, sir, for the civil war in Turvey- brains—had done his wise behest. There was top? You say it was pleasantly ended ?" no smoke—no fire. The great guns were dumb

“ In this fashion," said the Hermit,“ if I have the muskets undischarged; for be it known heard the legend truly. The two armies, in to you, sir, that the Turveytopians had at the high conceit with their murderous weapons- time all the weapons since invented in our for until that time there had been no men- miniature world. Then you might have seen killing engines known in Turveytop-lusted for the soldiers charge, and their brittle bayonets the fight. Now, sir, you have heard or read of the break harmless against the bellies of the foes : vast concern shown by the gods of the heathen then would some seize their weapons, and with in the battles of their favourite soldiers—as if, the butt-end strike the enemy in the teeth. And for instance, you and I should have pet emmets the enemy stood and licked their lips. Wherein the bloody struggle for an ear of barley. fore, you will ask? I will tell you. The musketIndeed, whether or no, man will make his gods stock was no longer walnut-wood; but, by the shoulder the knapsack with him: he will make benignity of the great God Jocus, a thing of them enter the breach, fire the town, clap a savoury sausage-meat, calling up the spirit of ready hand upon moveables ; knock a wayward enjoyment in the heart of man, as it smote householder on the head, and after, take enjoy- his nostril. In this way, sir, all things were ment in the cellar, the larder, and the chamber. changed. Here you would see a soldier take Man will, as I say, take his gods campaigning a cartridge from his box, and with bloody and with him; and, sir, it must be owned, scurvy sepulchral looks bite the cartridge-end. At treatment they ofttimes meet with at his hands. that moment the face changed to sweetWhen he has laboured profitably in the bloody ness and content; for, th cartridge bitten, a harvest, he gives them money for their good- delicious cordial flowed into the mouth of the biter, and winding about his stony heart, melted had saved the blood of Turveytop; and more, it into human jelly. Here you would see a had provided, yea, in the very engines of war, grenadier sucking a bayonet, as a nursling sucks the wherewithal to comfort the bowels and à lollipop; and wherefore ?—The great God rejoice the heart of man. The substance of Jocus had turned the deadly weapon into sugar- dried meats was found in gun carriages; delicandy. In another place you might behold cious cheeses were in the wheels; and pikes and the small drums turned into pots of jelly, and halberds were nought more deadly than attethe little drummer-boys eating therefrom, and nuated sausage, pungent and aromatic. The painting their downy faces with raspberry and great guns, too-charged as it was thought with currant of more than martial red. Big drums agony and death for thousands-contained took the shape and flavour of rounds of beef; and nothing more mischievous than ruby wine. The in a thought, the kettles were buffaloes' dried cannon shot, turned to corks, were now withhumps. The pioneers' caps became wine-cool- drawn; and the armies ate and drank, and ers, and their aprons napkins of damask. Grey- laughed and sang, and danced, and gave hearty headed officers swallowed their own swords, thanks to the great God Jocus." turned into macarone. A cymbal player was " And so the matter ended ?" seen to devour his cymbals, suddenly changed “Even so, sir," replied the Hermit; "the into ratafia paste. What had been gunpowder field whereon the armies met was called, from was eaten by the handful as small saccharine that time, the Field of the Sage and Onions, comfits; cartridge-bullets were candied plums, those vegetables from that very day abounding and gave great pleasure both to horse and foot. there. And in memory of the time, the TurveyWell

, sir, it is not to be thought that discipline topians, in solemn procession, once a year gather could survive temptation such as this. No, sir: of the produce to stuff their geese. You smile, at first there was vast astonishment; then a low sir. Think you, sir, it is not better to pull an murmur of delight ran through either host; onion than to pluck laurel ? There are fewer then there was a mighty smacking of lips; and tears drawn by homely scallion than by the then the opposing armies laughed a tremendous green leaf.” laugh, and embraced. On this a solemn cachin- “A strange freak, sir,” we said, "of the nation escaped the great God Jocus, who, un- God Jocus! It was at that we smiled.” crossing his legs, vanished. The news flew A strange, yet mighty benevolence !" cried among the women of Turveytop, who, coming the Hermit. “Would that he or some kindred and bringing their children to the field, made beneficence—could descend upon carnivorous merry with the army. A banquet was resolved war, when and wheresoever it should purpose to upon; it was but rightful thanksgiving to the feed, and turn its carving sword to sugar!" benevolent Jocus, whose noble practical jest

THE OLD THORN.

ONCE thou wast what thou art not now,

The beauty of May morning; Soon as the sunbeam lit thy bough

With smiles of early dawning, Children came to gather posies,

The bee to sip thy flower,
When as yet no summer roses

Adorn'd the cottage bower.
Then didst thou rule in queenly pride,

Pale but peerless hawthorn tree,
And ev'ry scented breeze that sigh'd

Told the love it bore for thee.
The small bird came, a yearly guest,

To thy impervious screen,
In which the schoolboy left her nest

And the sky-blue eggs unseen.
The violet dark and cowslip fair

’Neath thy shade were ever found,

Where the fluttering noon-tide air

Sent the dew-drops pattering round.
At eve fond lovers oft would meet,

Ling’ring 'neath thee until night;
When glow-worms kindling at their feet

Warn’d them of their homeward flight.-
But never more beneath thy shade

Shall the village maiden rest,
For darkly are thine arms array'd

'Gainst the sun-light of the west.
And they are leafless, sad, and drear-

And the coming of sweet May
Will cause no blossoms to appear,
Cluster'd on a wither'd

spray,
It matters not-remembrance will

Paint thee as thou once hast been,
And the old thorn upon the hill
Yet in mem'ry shall be green.

G. PERRY.

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