Chapter XIV (1)

Did she love him? My heart aches when I ask the question.

* * * * *

Miss Burns stood for several minutes on the piazza after Hiram went away. Presently her father came up.

'Why, my daughter, are you here? Has Meeker left? It is early yet.'

'Yes, he went some little time ago. I got the whole story out of him; and when he finished he ran off, because I made him talk so much, I fear.'

Mr. Burns observed that his daughter was somewhat excited; but there was good reason, and he did not feel in any mood for scrutiny.

For perhaps the first time in her life, however, _she_ felt conscious of something like _heart vacancy_--of some void her father's presence did not fill. This made her very unhappy. She strove to conceal it, and probably succeeded.

For the first time in her life, her father's kiss did not soothe, comfort, and satisfy her.

As soon as Joel Burns had finished his devotions (his daughter and he knelt always, morning and evening, side by side, and sent up their joint supplications to the Almighty), Sarah hastened to her room. She slept little that night; but when she rose in the morning, after having breathed forth her prayers to God, in whom she so implicitly put her trust, she felt composed and happy, and ready to welcome her father and receive his usual caress.

* * * * *

I have no design to occupy too much of this narrative with the present subject. I am writing the history of Hiram Meeker--not of Sarah Burns. And Hiram's 'little affair' with Sarah, as he used to call it, was scarcely an episode in his life.

The reader can easily understand how quietly, and with a manner both fascinating and insinuating, Hiram installed himself absolutely in the affections of Sarah Burns.

Mark you, Sarah was not a girl to be treated like Mary Jessup, or the Hawkinses, or many others with whom Hiram was or had been a favorite. Hiram knew this magnetically, and he undertook no false moves--assumed no petty freedoms; but he knew how to make such a true-hearted girl love him, and he succeeded.

There were times when Hiram was ready to give up his life-project of settling in New York. There were times when, even arguing, as he could only argue, from his selfishness, he was ready to decide to marry Sarah and down in Burnsville. He would have a large field there. He would start with abundant capital; he would go on and introduce various improvements and multiply plans and enterprises. Then the recollection of the vast city, teeming with facilities for his active brain to take advantage of, where MILLIONS were to be commanded, with no limits, no bounds for action and enterprise, would bring him back to his determination not to swerve from his settled object.

Yet, after all, he could get only so near to Sarah Burns. He knew she admired him--loved him--at least, was ready to love him; but this did not bring him into close communion with her.

After that morning, Sarah's state of mind and heart was at least tranquil. She possessed the true talisman; and it would have been in vain for Hiram to attempt to disturb her repose. As I have said, he understood this very well. He knew he could not trifle, or, as it is called, flirt with Sarah; and he did not try. But after a while he was piqued--then he did admire Sarah more than any girl he ever met. Probably he loved her as much as he was capable of loving; which was--not at all.

At last, just after the conclusion of some brilliant operations, as Hiram called them, of Mr. Burns's, on a lovely day in the summer, when nature was in her glory and all things were very beautiful at Burnsville, Hiram--(I won't say he designed to be false, I have many doubts on that head, and he is entitled to the benefit of them)--Hiram, I say, encountered Sarah Burns a little out of the village, on a romantic path, which he sometimes used as a cross cut to the mill. Affairs were very flourishing--the place full of activity; Joel Burns quite a king and general benefactor there; and Sarah Burns--a charming, very charming girl --his only daughter.

Hiram came suddenly on her. Both stopped, of course.

* * * * *

Mr. Burns that day wondered--wondered exceedingly that the tried and reliable Meeker should fail him on a very important occasion. Something made it necessary that Hiram should visit Slab City, and return in the course of the morning. But the morning passed, and no Hiram. Mr. Burns drove to the mill: his clerk had not appeared there.

At dinner time the mystery was solved. Hiram, it seems, had been unable to resist all the conspiring influences. When they met, the two had wandered away toward a pleasant grove, and, seated at the foot of a giant oak, he told Sarah Burns in most seductive terms how he loved her, how he had always loved her since they met at Mrs. Croft's.

Sarah did as young girls always do: she burst into tears.

This was not at all to Hiram's taste.

(Don't be severe with him, reader: he could not appreciate the causes which produce such emotions.)

He waited for what he was cool enough to consider hysterical demonstrations to pass, and commenced again to press his suit.

'My father, my father!' exclaimed Sarah; 'I can never give him up.'

'We must leave father and mother, and cleave to each other,' said Hiram solemnly, with anything rather than the tone of a lover. It sounded harsh and repulsive to Sarah, and she began to cry, again, but not as passionately as before.

(Hiram was dissatisfied, selfish ever, he disliked exceedingly that she should think of her father at such a time.)

'I know it,' she finally said, 'and that is why I speak. Whatever may be my feelings, I shall never forget my duty to him.'

'And how will loving me interfere with it?' asked Hiram.

'Whatever may be the consequence to me, I will never leave him. And you--your plans take you elsewhere. I know it very well.'

Hiram was surprised, he could not imagine how his secret purposes could have been discovered, for he had never divulged them.

'_You_ know it, too,' she continued, perceiving he was silent.

'That may he,' he replied; ' but that does not prevent my loving you. And who knows? Perhaps your father will not care to remain, always at Burnsville.'

'Oh, he will never leave it; that I am sure of,' said Sarah, almost sorrowfully, 'And I shall stay with him.'

'Then you do not love me,' said Hiram, in a tone not quite amiable.

'You know better,' exclaimed Sarah, her eyes flashing, and all the spirit of her father beaming forth. 'Hiram Meeker, you know better!'

She was superb in her passion. Something besides affection shone forth now, and Hiram was led captive by _it_.

'Then shall I stay,' he said resolutely. 'Take me or not, Sarah, I stay, too.'

* * * * *

Mr. Burns was not altogether surprised at the announcement which awaited him on going home that day to dinner. He had seen for some time that his daughter was much interested, and he thought Hiram equally so.

It is true the old feeling continued, and there were times when, it appeared to break forth stronger than ever. Mr. Burns had made up his mind that it was doing Hiram great injustice to yield to it, since the young man was untiring in the discharge of his duties, and also most effective.

So he had endeavored to accustom himself to think of the event of his daughter's engagement with Hiram as very probable. What could possibly be urged against it? Hiram was of respectable family, possessed of extraordinary business ability, bearing an irreproachable character, really without a fault that could be indicated, and a consistent member of the church.

Yes, that was so. And, looking it over carefully, Mr. Burns used frequently to admit to himself that it _was_ so. What then? Why, then Joel Burns would sigh and feel heaviness of heart, he scarcely knew why, and think to himself that there could remain for him no happiness should Sarah marry Meeker. Then he would ask himself, how his wife would have liked Meeker. He did not think she would have liked him.

Nevertheless, as I have said, Mr. Barns decided the event was coming, and that he could not say nay.

And he did not say nay. He said very little; but when Sarah threw herself in her father's arms, and he kissed her forehead, his heart was nigh to bursting. He restrained his emotion, though.

* * * * *

'We are never to leave you, father. You know that, don't you?'

'My child, no one knows the future; but I am happy that you will live with me.'

Hiram said nothing. Already his old caution was returning.

* * * * *

It will be recollected, when Hiram first came to Burnsville he sought to be admitted as a member of Mr. Burns's family, but was met with a cold and abrupt refusal. Now, Mr. Burns not only desired Hiram to come at once to his house, but put his wishes in so decided a form that Hiram could not object. It was in vain, that Sarah interposed. She begged her father not to insist on the arrangement. Neither had Hiram the least desire to quit his comfortable quarters at the widow Hawkins's, even for the sake of being near the one to whom he had pledged himself forever. But he did not dare betray himself. He did betray himself though, unconsciously, by the absence of any enthusiasm on a point where one would suppose he would exhibit a great deal. Mr. Burns had a single object in having Hiram near him. His daughter's happiness was most precious to him, and he resolved to make himself acquainted with the young man's character, if it were possible.

From the time Hiram began to call at the house of Mr. Burns, he gradually extended his visits over the village, and became a greater favorite than ever with the ladies. Not with the young girls alone, but with elderly spinsters and matrons. Strange how he managed so completely to make them all like him! His position with Mr. Barns grew more and more into consequence, so that he was regarded as unquestionably the best match in the place. When Hiram at last removed from the widow Hawkins's to Mr. Burns's, the village was for a few days the focus of all sorts of guesses and surmises. Mr. Burns had enjoined on both that the engagement should not be made public at present--an arrangement particularly pleasing to Hiram, who would thus be quite at liberty to give what turn he pleased to the subject, and not forfeit the favor of several young ladies already too deeply interested in him.

As may be supposed, when Hiram announced his intended removal to Mrs. Hawkins, that lady was exceedingly surprised, not to say overcome. Hiram, however, coupled the information with such an air of grave importance, dropping a few words about the enormous increase of Mr. Burns's business, and the absolute necessity of frequent evening consultations, that she was completely disarmed. Then he remarked that his leaving the house would by no means cause any diminution of his interest in the young ladies, or in _her;_ indeed, quite the contrary. Such interest must increase daily, the more so that he should not have the pleasure of so openly manifesting it. The widow blushed, she hardly knew why. Hiram squeezed her hand tenderly, and sought out Charlotte and Louisa. Charlotte was in the garden, and--I must tell the truth--Louisa in her chamber, crying. All this was charming to Hiram. He luxuriated in it (though in a more delicious degree), as over a nice steak or a delicate boiled chicken.

Hiram's interview with both the young ladies was, as you may readily imagine, perfectly satisfactory to both. In short, when he quitted the house, all were content and hopeful, and all from different reasons.

* * * * *

It was now that Joel Burns sat himself down to investigate the cause of those strange sensations which he at times experienced in the presence of Meeker. The first time Hiram came to the table, not as a guest, but as an inmate of the house, nothing could have been more stiff and formal than the conduct of all three. In vain. Mr. Burns endeavored to appear free. The spell was on him; and there sat the one who alone could cause it.

Joel Burns looked at his daughter. She appeared diffident and not at ease, but, as he thought, happy. Hiram sat still, saying nothing and looking quite vacant. He was determined not to exhibit any points till he knew his ground better.

In the office, though, all was right. There he entered into, nay, anticipated Mr. Burns's plans, and he could not fail to evoke his employer's admiration.

I have spoken of Joel Burns's daily devotions; how, with his child, he was in the habit of coming before his Maker, bringing the offerings of their joint hearts. For two or three days after Meeker came to the house this custom was continued. Then Sarah gently asked her father if Hiram might not be admitted. (He had complained to her that it was not Christian-like to exclude him.) A shiver passed over Mr. Burns; a groan almost escaped his lips. How fast the links were giving way which kept his daughter with him! But the request was quite right, and that night Hiram was present at the evening prayer. Sarah, on that occasion, did not sit so near her father as usual. And when they kneeled, her chair was still more removed. So it went on. Sarah, like all who love, invested Hiram with every virtue in perfection (and lovers are more indebted for virtues to the imagination of the sex than they suppose), and was very happy. Hiram, who managed, under the excuse of not permitting the public to learn the secret of their engagement, to visit nearly as much as ever, was happy enough too. Only Joel Burns was sad. Sad, not because he had given away his daughter, but because he feared for her happiness.

What was strange enough, Mr. Burns could not endure to hear Hiram speak on religion, and Hiram was very fond of talking on the subject. He spoke so well, every one said. He exhibited so many evidences of divine grace.

One morning, Sarah came into her father's room, and, after kissing him, said, with a great deal of diffidence:

'Father, I want to ask a favor of you.'

'Certainly, my child. What is it?'

'Won't you please ask Hiram sometimes to lead in prayer?'

Mr. Burns started as if stung by some reptile. He turned very pale.

'What is the matter--what _is_ the matter, father? How pale you look--how very pale you look!'

'Do I? I felt strangely, just at that moment. Yes, dear child, I will do what you request. I suppose I ought to have done so before; but then, you know, it is hard to--yes, dear--I will do as you wish.'

Sarah left the room, wondering not a little, and Joel Burns threw himself on the bed and sobbed.

After a time he recovered his composure. Kneeling at the side of the bed, he ejaculated: '_O God, help me to feel right! and, O Heavenly Father, protect my child!_'

That day, after breakfast, Hiram was asked to make the morning prayer.

Shall I attempt to describe his ready utterance; his glib use of the most sacred expressions; his familiar handling of God's name?

Mr. Burns's feelings meanwhile cannot be described. In his presence, at least to his true apprehension, Hiram Meeker was like the Arch Enemy when touched by the spear of Ithuriel. And yet Joel Burns kneeled, trying humbly to commit his soul to God, while Hiram was pouring out what he thought to be a most beautiful prayer!

* * * * *

It is not necessary to go on with particulars. Every two or three months Hiram found it for Mr. Burns's interest to visit New York. More and more he became confirmed in his first determination to ultimately settle there. He kept his views entirely to himself. But he did not neglect his opportunities whenever he visited the city, till at length his plans were matured.

Then, by degrees, he sounded Sarah Burns on the subject. He would suggest that it was best, perhaps, in order better to serve the interests of her father, that he should acquire more knowledge of metropolitan affairs, so that there need be again no danger of another Joslin matter. Sarah exhibited so much distress on these occasions that Hiram forbore to allude to the subject. He perfected his plans, and said nothing about them.

It was a part of his purpose that these plans should leak out somewhat; sufficiently, at least, to set people discussing their probability; and he took measures accordingly. This accounts for the division of opinion in the village, which I spoke of in the first chapter.

* * * * *

Our story opens at this period.

Hiram Meeker and Sarah Burns had gone in company to attend the preparatory lecture on the Friday prior to Communion. At that lecture Sarah heard, for the first time, that Hiram had decided to leave for New York. The reader may possibly recollect the conversation between them as they left the lecture room.

I said, though Sarah Burns could not disbelieve Hiram, her heart _felt_ the lie he told her nevertheless.

Mr. Burns was also present on that occasion. Shall I say it? A thrill of joy shot through him at the announcement; joy, if it must be spoken, that Hiram had proved a dissembler and a hypocrite. His year would expire the coming week. Not a syllable had he said on the subject to Mr. Burns, and he had concluded on this method of acquainting both Mr. Burns and Sarah of his fixed determination.

The latter part of the walk was measured in silence. Some faint perception of the truth was beginning to dawn in Sarah's mind. Her father's spirit began to assert itself in her breast.

Mr. Burns walked slowly along a little behind. It was tea time when they entered the house. He went for a moment to his room. He had scarcely entered it, when the door opened and his daughter came in. She ran up to her father; she threw her arms around his neck; and while she wept bitterly, Joel Burns could hear between the sobs:

'_Oh, father, father, your child has come back to you!_'

ALL RIGHT.

Little lady wants a President all smile and style and grace;
Little master wants a Talleyrand or Crichton in the place;
Little simpletons want this and that to fill the nation's chair;
But the times want ABRAHAM LINCOLN--and, thank GOD, they have him there!

GOLD

Our large debt and vast expenditures demand a resort to every just available source of national revenue. Among these are our mineral lands of the public domain, and especially those yielding gold and silver. On this subject, the Commissioner of the General Land Office, Judge Edmunds, on the 16th of April last, addressed a letter to the Committee of Public Lands of the Senate, from which I make the following extract:

'For a half century prior to the California gold discoveries in
1848, the annual gold yield of the world was, by estimate, from
sixteen to twenty millions of dollars, of which Russia produced
more than one half. In 1853 the gold product of California was
$70,000,000. * * * * Annual yield, estimating upon reported
shipments, was $50,000,000, to which by adding two fifths for
quantity taken by private hands, besides that converted into
articles of ornament and use, the total average would be seventy
millions a year. The immense discoveries of gold, silver,
quicksilver, tin, copper, lead, iron, and coal, within our limits,
justify the estimate that our mineral riches exceed the aggregate
metallic wealth of the globe. In a state of peace, with adequate
revenue from ordinary sources, the Government has interposed no
obstacle to the free access of our citizens and of the people of
every nation, to work the mines, of which the United States are the
undisputed owners, and by which individuals, in the aggregate, have
realized some nine hundred millions of dollars.'

The Commissioner, therefore, very justly concludes that, under existing circumstances, our mineral lands ought to yield a national revenue, and he proposes a preliminary reconnoissance, and licenses, at $10 each, to be paid in the mean time by the miners to the Government. Beyond these suggestions he proceeds at present no farther.

The general estimate of the extent of our mineral lands of the public domain, exceeds twenty millions of acres. It extends from near the 32d to the 49th parallel of latitude, and from the lakes and the Mississippi river to the Pacific. It is not supposed that every acre of these twenty millions contains mines, but that all are so connected as to be embraced in the same mineral region. These lands, at an average price of $25 per acre, would be worth $500,000,000. I do not assert that this is their value, but it is a fact that some of the mines already worked on our public domain are worth many thousand dollars _per foot_, even in the present difficulty of access by roads, and the enormous cost of provisions. It is sufficient for the argument that these mines and mineral lands are of great value, that they are public property, and, in the present condition of our country, ought to be made a source of revenue.

This question concerns the present and future miners. As to the present miners, they are working these lands without any legal title, but by the long acquiescence of the Government. They are the pioneers, who, amid great dangers, privations, and sufferings, have explored these mineral regions and developed their enormous value. As regards these pioneers now working the mineral lands of the Government, I think, as a general rule, the existing miners' code should be carried into effect. They should be required to register their claims with the proper officer of the Federal Government, to file copies and descriptive notes of their surveys and locations, and to report the product of the mines. This would form a good basis for the reconnoissance proposed by the Commissioner, and for the exploration and resurvey of these claims by the Government. Such proceedings would effect the following results: 1st. To prevent litigation among the present miners. 2d. To enable the Government to separate their lands from the public domain, and to give them a _perfect title_. 3d. To survey and designate the unoccupied mineral lands of the Government. I think it would be just, and good policy to confirm the rights of the present miners according to the existing regulations in the several districts, charging them only a nominal price for a complete title and patent from the Government, which price should not be more than the cost of survey and incidental expenses, not exceeding a few cents an acre. This would greatly improve the condition of the present miners, to whom we are indebted for the development of this region; would give them a perfect title, where now they have none; and, in many cases, would enable them to raise the capital necessary for the more profitable working of their mines.

Having thus surveyed and located the mines now worked by the present occupants, and secured to them their titles in fee simple, without rent, regie, or seigniorage, let us now consider the proper policy as to the vast unoccupied public mineral domain. The solution of this problem divides itself into two parts: 1st, the survey and subdivision of these lands; 2d, the price and mode of sale.

As to the first, I would continue the present mode of surveys by townships, sections, and quarter-quarter sections, with further subdivisions thereof. It will be best, however, to adopt the _geodetic_ system, for the following reasons: 1st, The errors in the linear surveys are much greater than in the geodetic, in nearly the ratio of yards to inches. These errors may not be very important as to sections, but, in the minute subdivisions (an acre each) into which the mineral lands should be separated, the errors of the lineal surveys could not be tolerated, and would introduce ruinous litigation as to the boundaries of valuable mines. 2d, The linear surveys give us a description only of the exterior lines of each section; but the geodetic system would inform us of the interior, enable the Government to appraise every acre, to give the proper maps, similar to those of the coast survey, and enable the people to judge of the value of each acre. The additional cost of the geodetic system would hardly reach two cents an acre.

The subdivision of the gold and silver lands, should be into tracts of one acre each, continuing and extending the present system. This is by townships of six miles square, containing 36 sections and 23,040 acres. Each section contains 640 acres; and to separate them into acres, the following system should be adopted. The present subdivision is into quarter-quarter sections, of 40 acres each. These small tracts, by lines running through the centre, north and south, and east and west, I would subdivide into four tracts, each containing ten acres. These ten-acre tracts, by a line running north and south through the centre, I would divide into two equal tracts, each containing five acres; and each of these five-acre tracts, by lines running east and west, into five tracts, each containing one acre. The exterior lines, running east and west, of these one-acre tracts, would each be one hundred and ten yards long (330 feet), and the two sides running north and south, would each have a length of forty-four yards (132 feet). The form of the ten-acre tract and its subdivisions, would be as follows:

TEN ACRES.

110 yards. 110 yards.
4 +---------+---------+ 4
4 |One acre.|One acre.| 4
y +---------+---------+ y
a |do. |do. | a
r +---------+---------+ r
d |do. |do. | d
s +---------+---------+ s
|do. |do. |
+---------+---------+
|do. |do. |
+---------+---------+

This is the only plan by which the sections can be subdivided into tracts of one acre each. Such subdivisions of sections into _squares_ of one acre each is impossible; nor is it necessary, as, of the present subdivisions, neither a half section nor an eighth of a section is square. Before the motion made by me in the Senate of the United States, on the 31st of March, 1836, the sales were made by eighths of a section, an oblong figure, and not by forty-acre tracts.

Many of the present miners' claims are smaller than an acre, but it is impracticable to make more minute subdivisions. This plan would continue our present admirable system of surveys, and, to carry it out, as now proposed, we should only have to mark, by stone or iron monuments, the north and south exterior lines of each section at intervals of forty-four yards, and the east and west lines at distances of one hundred and ten yards, and the survey would be complete, extending from section to section, and from township to township. Having devoted great attention to such subjects, as chairman for many years of the Committee of Public Lands of the Senate, and as Secretary of the Treasury, and having, in early life, made many surveys in the field, I venture, with great deference, to submit these suggestions for the consideration of the President, the Secretary of the Interior, the Commissioner of the General Land Office, Congress, and the country.

Tho system proposed by me would bring here vast foreign capital to invest in working our mines. As the law now stands, no title can be acquired to any of our public mineral lands, and hence the capital invested is extremely limited. By this plan, not only would a certain title be acquired to the mines now worked, and at a nominal price to the present miners, but also for new mines, at their proper value, and thus our vast mineral wealth would be developed much sooner.

There are two considerations which will soon rapidly enhance the value of our mineral lands. These are the Homestead bill and the Pacific railroad. By the gift, substantially, of one hundred and sixty acres of our agricultural public lands to every settler, the soil, in the vicinity of the mines, will be far more speedily occupied and cultivated, and, as a consequence, much cheaper provisions and subsistence furnished to the miners. This result, also, will be greatly accelerated by the construction of the Pacific railroad, together with much lower transportation of emigrants and freight.

The plan proposed (as it ought to be) is just to the mining States and Territories, and to the pioneer miners. Indeed, it is far better for them than the present system.

The next question is, how should the sales be made, and at what price. The gold and silver lands I would sell in one-acre lots, as above designated; our other mineral lands in forty-acre lots, a subdivision now recognized by law.

One surveyor, accompanied by one commissioner for each four townships, should examine, and both should report to the register and receiver of the proper land office, the value of each subdivision of the public mineral lands, together with the proper maps. These views should, together with their own opinions, be communicated by the register and receiver to the Commissioner of the General Land Office, who, under the supervision of the Secretary of the Interior, should fix the value of these acre lots. These lands then should be advertised for sale to the highest bidder for cash, at minimum rates, not below those estimated, which should be published. The bids, after six months' advertisement, should be received by the register and receiver of the proper land offices, and also by the Secretary of the Interior, up to the same day and hour, when such bids should be at once opened simultaneously, and the land awarded to the highest bidder above the minimum. To prevent fraud, no bid should be received unless accompanied by a deposit of one per cent. of the amount of the bid, to be forfeited to the Government only if the bid is successful and the amount should not be paid in full. Such tracts as are not sold at or above the appraised value should be disposed if by _entry_ at the minimum price, in the same manner as under our former land system, subject at proper intervals to new appraisements and advertisements.

We have seen that our present Commissioner of the General Land Office estimates our mineral public lands as of greater value than all the mineral lands of the world, and that, up to the 16th of April last, they had yielded, in gold alone, nine hundred millions of dollars. This is exclusive of our valuable mines silver, quicksilver, tin, copper, lead, coal, and iron. The lands yielding this $900,000,000 are estimated at five hundred thousand acres--making their value exceed one billion of dollars; and, at the same rate, the remaining twenty millions of acres would be worth forty billions of dollars, or $2,000 per acre. This would be a most extravagant estimate; but at the average price of twenty-five dollars per acre they would bring, as we have seen, five hundred millions of dollars, being a sum larger than our public debt on the 1st of July last. That this sum at least can be realized to the Government by a proper system from our public mineral lands, is my sincere conviction.

On this subject, the Commissioner says:

'As the development of the mineral wealth of the country advances
not only of the gold and silver of California, but of Oregon,
Washington, Nevada, Colorado, and New Mexico, and the vast mines of
useful metals scattered there and elsewhere, with exhaustless
supplies of coal to fashion and mould these for the various
purposes of life, the yield in a few years may reasonably be
estimated at $100,000,000; and when the Pacific railroad shall have
spanned the interior, it may be augmented to one hundred and fifty
millions of dollars' worth of mineral product.'

This annual product, as estimated by the Commissioner, would make the total value of these lands exceed one billion of dollars.

There may be differences of opinion

as to this estimate of the Commissioner: some may think it too large, and others too small; but, however this may be, it is quite clear that the subject demands the earnest consideration of the country.

No period has been so auspicious as the present to rearrange our gold coinage. Gold has ceased here to be a currency, and is used only in payment of our public debt and receipts of customs.

It is important that our gold coinage (retaining the decimal system) and that of England should be assimilated. This could be easily done by having in our half eagle the same amount of gold and alloy as in the British sovereign, carrying the system through our whole gold coinage. Thus, exchange here upon England or there here, would be quoted and governed by the same rules which regulate exchange between our own cities, and all the mystery and losses of our present system would disappear. This change would slightly depreciate our present gold coinage, but would not affect individual transactions, treasury notes being our currency and a legal tender. Should this plan be adopted, England could stamp on her sovereign, _Equal to a U. S. half eagle_, and we could stamp on our half eagle, _Equal to a British sovereign_, and thus furnish a currency, which from necessity would in time be adopted by all the world, avoiding vast trouble, loss of time, and litigation, and saving millions of dollars every year. This measure would soon prove the superiority of our decimal system, and render it _universal_. The United States and England being the two great commercial and gold producing nations, speaking the same tongue, and having the same coinage, would make the coin and the _language of the coin_ of the world the same, the first great step toward a universal language. This assimilation of the value and language of coin would lead to the decimalizing and assimilation of weights and measures, both grand movements toward the fusion of nations and fraternity of man.

LITERARY NOTICES

THE NEW GYMNASTICS FOR MEN, WOMEN, AND CHILDREN. By DIO LEWIS, M.D.
With three hundred illustrations. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. 1862.

It is with sincerest pleasure that we commend this excellent book to the attention of every teacher and parent in America. We might add that we commend it as a gift book which would be most acceptable to youth, since it teaches them several hundred exercises, the greater portion of which require little or no apparatus, and none which cannot be very readily fitted up in almost any house. This book, moreover, includes a translation of Prof. KLOGS'S 'Dumb Bell Instructor' and Prof. SCHREBER'S 'Pangymnastikon.' By the way, is this the same work of SCHREBER'S which was translated some years ago by Prof. SEDGWICK, of New York, for his Gymnastic Journal? We remember the latter as a work of solid merit, recommending on sound anatomical principles the means of cure by gymnastics and calisthenics for many of the ills that flesh is heir to. We ask, not remembering accurately, and from observing that Prof, LEWIS confesses to having greatly abridged the volume in question, a plan never to be commended in any translation whatever. But for the whole work, with this exception, we have only praise. It is, we believe, the most practical, sensible book and the one most easy of application on this subject extant in any language. Let all interested remember that while it is indispensable to every gymnasium and every gymnast, its price _is_ only one dollar.

EYES AND EARS. By HENRY WARD BEECHER. Boston: Ticknor & Fields.
1862. New York: G. P. Putnam. 1862.

The crisp, careless dozen and a half of lines which Mr. BEECHER snaps at his readers by way of preface to this collection of papers, form the best review of its contents which will probably be written. They came principally, as he informs us, from the New York _Ledger_, and partially from the _Independent_; were consequently written very much for the many, and very little for the student of elaborate literature. They are unstudied, unpretentious--true _nugæ venales_, 'representing the impressions of happy homes, or the moods and musings of the movement * * fragmentary and careless as even a newspaper style will permit.' But, beyond this, we may assure the reader that these 'scintillant trifles' are knocked off from no second-rate material and by no awkward hand, but by one firm and confident in hasty and trivial efforts as in great ones, and producing the great even in the little. Many of these essay-lets have a peculiar charm: they seem to crave expansion--we wish them longer, and are as little pleased to find a fresh title whipping itself in before our eyes as children are at a rapidly managed magic-lantern show, when the impatient exhibitor presents a View in Egypt to eyes which have hardly begun to take in Solomon's Temple. We like them far better than the majority of the more elaborate, infinitely conceited, narrow-minded, squeakingly-witty essays with which the country has been of late visited for its sins from the Country Parson and his disciples.

SLAVERY IN SOUTH CAROLINA, AND THE EX-SLAVES; or, The Port Royal
Mission. By Mrs. A. M. FRENCH. New York: Winchell M. French, No. 5
Beekman street, 1862.

No one can write a book, however unpretentious, on the subject of slavery, and fill it with plain _facts_, without making a startling volume. Take the subject up on the grounds of the barest humanity, even as one would the welfare of animals; laying aside all 'Abolition' or anti-abolition views whatever, and we find a tremendous abyss of abuses, inexcusable even according to the principles of the most rabid pro-slavery disciple. Prominent among the facts which such a work as the present presents, is the proof that the black, whatever his degree of intelligence may be, is abundantly capable, under enlightened discipline, of becoming infinitely more profitable to himself and to the world than he has ever yet been. From the tales of distress, from the bewildering, sorrowful negro piety, from the jargon and rags and tears of poor childish contrabands, as simply and sadly set forth by Mrs. FRENCH, making every allowance, and penetrating to the depth of the dark problem, we still realize one tremendous truth--that Slavery, as a principle of government, is a lie, and that from a politico-economical point of view it has been a failure. It is a _waste of power_, and like every waste of human power results in suffering.

The fifty-three chapters of the work before us present the results of the Port Royal Mission, the truths gleaned from the contrabands of their past life, great additions to our Northern knowledge of the practical treatment of slaves, many observations on these facts, and an array of Instances to prove the capacity of the negro. It will be spoken of as an Abolition work, and such it is; but we--who look beyond and above Abolition, and hold the higher doctrines of EMANCIPATION originally set forth in these columns--to the broad interests of humanity, and of the benefit which is to accrue in the first place to the white race from free labor--still commend it as full of material of the most valuable description to the great cause of progress.

The work is fairly printed, but, we regret to add, is disfigured by a mass of wretched woodcuts of the worst possible design, which look as if they had been gleaned from old Abolition tracts, and which we trust will be omitted from the next edition.

SALOME, THE DAUGHTER OF HERODIAS. A Dramatic Poem. New York;
Putnam, 532 Broadway.

When we criticize ever so lightly any modern poetical treatment of an antique subject, we may as well premise that we do so as something which is only partially true, since few writers have ever so perfectly penetrated any foreign national spirit as to reproduce it--let us say, like a translation. Even translations from the Greek are made Miltonically, or Pope-ishly, or Shakespearian-ally, and seldom with that racy literalness which characterizes Carlyle's occasional bits of German poetic version. Sometimes, as in the present instance, the old form is almost unattainable, for Hebrew poetry and the modes of speech used at Herod's court are too little known in their first fresh life to be vividly reproduced. Consequently the more modern forms are indispensable. But, from the stand-point of English poetry, SALOME is a production of more than marked ability--it is a boldly conceived, genially executed, oftentimes a truly superb poem. The repentance of SALOME has a broad lyrical and musical sweep which seems like an opera of grand passions when the trivial associations of the opera are forgotten. In the concluding scenes we seem to feel the inspiration of GOETHE and of ÆSCHYLUS, for the author has combined with rare tact the spirit of avenging fate with that of atonement--the Pagan and the Christian; and if the language be here and there meagre or lack concentrativeness, we pardon it in consideration of the high idea by which plot, incident, and character are swayed. In one scene, however--the dialogue between Antonius and the Jew--we find a degree of historic truth, a reproduction in dramatic form of the sublime spirit of Hebrew poetry, and an æsthetic color which, had it been maintained throughout, would have neutralized our introductory remarks. This scene is of itself a real poem. Herodias is, we may add, consistent, and bravely accented in every thought and word; had she, however, been more concise, she would have been more consistent to her earnestly malignant nature. 'But, then, Shakespeare exaggerated the monologue!'

In conclusion, we commend SALOME cordially to all, for all can read it with pleasure, and many, we may add, with profit. It belongs to a soundly literary school, is disfigured with no extravagances, embodies much real beauty, and is above all a poem of promise of even better works from its author.

LIFE AND LETTERS OF WASHINGTON IRVING. Vol. 2. By his nephew,
PIERRE M. IRVING. New York: G. P. Putnam.

Like the first volume, this admirable second leads us through one of the most entertaining of _tutti frutti_ which we have ever met in the form of a biography. It is fortunate that IRVING--so generally imagined by 'those of the second after-generation' as a quiet recluse on the banks of the Hudson--was in reality, in his early time and full prime, a traveler, a man of the world, somewhat of a diplomat, and one who knew the leading minds of Europe and of his own country in the days when there were giants. It is really pleasant to travel in these pages over the _grande route_ as it was just before the incredible facilities of modern transit had worn away so many peculiarities--to get home-glimpses of people who generally turn only a formal great-reputation side to the world--and above all, to read IRVING as he was and while he grew to greatness. And the work is well done, as Irving knew it would be. We congratulate the world on having gained volumes so fully deserving place by the side of the writings of their subject.

MEMOIRS OF THE REV. NICHOLAS MURRAY, D.D. (KIRWAN). By SAMUEL
IBENAUS PRIME. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1862.

A well compiled life of a Presbyterian divine, who worked long and faithfully in his calling, leaving marks of varied ability, and strove in all things great and small to attain his ideal of duty. Such a work, written in the spirit of truth toward the subject, indulging neither in highflown eulogy nor in abstract essaying, as we find this to be, is a rarity, and is none the less excellent because simply written and unpretentious. Its author is well known in literature, and experience has taught him how to write a biography in the right way. While the work in question is of course possessed of more peculiar interest to the members of a certain sect, it should be observed that it is of a kind which should be read with interest by all Christians, and indeed by all who respect earnestness, philanthropy, and sound goodness.

THE POEMS OF OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. Boston: Ticknor & Fields. New
York: G. P. Putnam. 1862.

We have often wanted this book--the whole collection of the poems of our HOLMES in one volume--and welcome it as a most delightful gift. All of the racy, charming, naive lays of his younger song-days are here; and it is the highest praise we can award them to say that they are as charming as ever, and will never lose their beauty.

Yet, the poet is too modest in his opening lay, for _all_ are beautiful:

'And some might say, 'Those ruder songs
Had freshness which the new have lost;
To spring the opening leaf belongs,
The chestnut burs await the frost.'

'When those I wrote my locks were brown;
When these I write--ah! well-a-day!
The autumn thistle's silvery down
Is not the purple bloom of May.'

We at least find no frost, no benumbing influence manifested anywhere. We love the old favorites because they were favorites of old. The younger reader, who has only of late months learned the 'Chambered Nautilus,' 'The Deacon's Masterpiece,' or 'Parson Turrel's Legacy,' will, thirty years hence, recall the sweet flavor of their first taste, even as we recall the latter years of the blessed rosy decade of the eighteen hundred and thirties, and, with them, how they were made leafy and odorant and golden by 'The Katydid Song'--by 'The Dilemma'--by 'L'Imanuel;' or how they were be-merried by the 'Dorchester Giant'--'The Oysterman'--the--but the book hath its table of contents!

We believe, honestly and earnestly, that the blue and gold, 'dorézure,' volume before us is the most agreeable, readable, and spirited book of poetry ever written by an American--it is not worth while to sail into the cloudy regions of antique or Old World comparison--and that it would be impossible to select anything in print of the same market value which would be so acceptable as a gift to so great a number of persons. We trust, by the way, that this hint will not be lost on all gentlemen or ladies who play at philop[oe]na, or who are desirous of displaying refined taste at no great expense on birthday and Christmas occasions. And we would beg our reader, for his own sake, not to rely on the fact that he has read many of these lyrics in bygone years, as an excuse for not providing himself with the new edition. We assure him that he can have no idea how much better and fresher and fairer they all seem in company. Something, too, should be said of the excellent full-length, admirably engraved portrait of Dr. HOLMES, pre-facing the title--the best likeness of our poet extant, and one which, to use a familiar though somewhat famished phrase, 'is alone well worth the price of the volume.'

EDITOR'S TABLE.

THE DUCHESS OF SUTHERLAND.

LONDON, _Nov. 1, 1862_,

MY DEAR FRIEND:

I have read Mr. Kirke's celebrated anti-slavery book called _Among the Pines_, and, so far as published in the CONTINENTAL MONTHLY, his _Merchant's Story_ on the same subject; but I have changed my views on this question, and so has England. _Antislavery_ was our policy for more than a quarter of a century to produce a civil war between the North and the South, and now we adopt _pro slavery_ views to make sure the dissolution of the Union. That Union was growing too strong, and with its success the Republican principle too powerful. We are acting in _self defence_, to save the monarchy and aristocracy of England. The American States were once our colonies, and they have no right to destroy us by restoring the Union.

Lord Palmerston was certain we should have had war on the Trent affair, but Lord Lyons was outwitted by Lincoln. We should have had the war then as we intended, and given decisive aid to the South. But we are aiding them now to equip cruisers to destroy American commerce, and furnishing them arms and munitions of war. They have very little money or credit, but our Government has a large secret service fund, and our capitalists and aristocracy are contributing quietly and liberally. It is done by way of _insurance_, at large rates, on privateers and cargoes. Confederate bonds are deposited by Mr. Mason, the Minister of the South, to cover all risks. Some time since I converted all my U. S. stock into Confederate bonds, which I shall continue to hold, and have invested £50,000 in this insurance operation, which may pay well.

How we all have wished that Columbus had never discovered America, or that the continent could be submerged; but all will be made right by the success of the South.

Mr. Mason, the Confederate Minister, assures me, that the South would much rather be ruled by England than by the North; that the South are ready for monarchy and aristocracy; that slavery and aristocracy are kindred principles; and that the _elite_ (like the F. F. V.'s) of their slaveholders, would make a splendid nobility. It is his opinion that the South must have a State religion and proscribe all others. Slavery then, he says, would be their corner stone in Church and State, and the first article of their creed would be--_slavery is a divine institution_. He quoted largely from the Old and New Testaments--from Moses and St. Paul, to prove the divinity of slavery, and said the sermon on the Mount had been mistranslated. His argument is cogent to prove that monarchy and aristocracy should favor slavery as the best means of keeping down, the working classes, now clamoring in England for the right of suffrage.

This doctrine will soon be broached in Parliament, and finds great favor in Exeter hall, where a statue will be erected in honor of Jefferson Davis, _the man who saved England by destroying America!_

If my friend Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe would write a great novel in favor of Slavery, we would make her a Duchess; and if Mr. Kirke, instead of such stories as _Among the Pines_, would give us the Bible view of Slavery, and reconcile whipping and branding slaves to the doctrine 'do unto others,' &e., he should be made an Earl. We are anxiously awaiting in England the grand movement which that great and good man ex-President Buchanan will soon make in favor of the South. England wishes Peace Commissioners to settle this question, and Mr. Buchanan to be one of them, on the part of the North, and that truly honest man, Gov. Floyd, another, on the part of the South--although my own choice would be Wigfall!

* * * * *

Something must be done to prevent the free acceptance of parole by our troops. Thousands and thousands 'have taken the word' and thereby incapacitated themselves from taking further part in the war. Let the press and the people awake to the infamy which a ready surrender on parole conditions brings, and we shall soon see the last of it. Let us continue by commending to all who have yielded themselves up, save in dire need, the following

SONG OF THE SNEAK.

'Rest sword, cool blushes, and PAROLLES--live!'

SHAKSPEARE.

I saw the foe advancing,
Says I, 'Boys,' says I.
'This is rather ugly dancing.
Which the general makes us try,
Where the bayonets are glancing,'
Says I, 'boys,' says I.

When the bullets got to dropping,
Says I, 'Boys,'says I,
I wish there were some stopping
These blue beetles as they fly.
And which set a fellow hopping;'
Says I, 'boys,' says I.

And I'd scarcely pulled a trigger,
Says I, 'Boys,' says I,
I 'aint got a mite of vigor,'--
So I skulked and tried to fly,
But was booted by a nigger,
And back I had to shy.

Then the Confed's came before us;
Says I, 'Boys,'says I,
'I guess they're goin' to floor us,
Or to knock us high and dry;'
When they all sang out in chorus--
'Yield or die! yield or die!

'If you yield, we will parole you.'
Then says I, ' Boys,' says I,
'I have no wish to control you;
But, unless you want to die,
The best way to console you,
Is to go parole,' says I;

'When we won't have no more fighting,'
Says I, 'boys,' says I,
'Yet, in our pay delighting,
We can loaf at ease, all day,
And keep clear of guns affrighting
All a feller's nerves,' says I.

Now I blow and bluster bolder,
And at home, 'Boys,' says I,
'I used to be a soldier,
But I was too brave to fly,
And I'm, therefore, a parol-der,
Of the noblest kind,' says I.