Continental Monthly, Vol. I, No. V, May, 1862 by Various

V >> Various >> Continental Monthly, Vol. I, No. V, May, 1862

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* * * * *

GUERDON.

Every life has been a battle
That has won a noble guerdon--
Every soul that furls its pinions
In proud Fame's serene dominions,
Wearily has borne its burden.

Through long years of toil and darkness,
Years of trial and of sorrow--
Days of longing, nigh to madness,
Nights of such deep, rayless sadness,
Hope herself scarce dared to-morrow.

Therefore bear up, O brave toiler
In the world's benighted places!
Though Truth's glory light your forehead,
Purer souls than yours have sorrowed,
Tears have flowed on angel-faces.

Therefore, bear up, O ye toilers!
Teachers of the earth's dull millions.
_Keep_ Truth's glory on each forehead,
And the way so blank and sorrowed
Shall lead on to heaven's pavilions.

* * * * *

LITERARY NOTICES

LEISURE HOURS IN TOWN. By the Author of 'The Recreations of a Country
Parson.' Boston: Ticknor and Fields. 1862.

'The Country Parson' is one of those writers whose hap it generally is
to be overpraised by friendly reviewers, and unduly castigated by those
who appreciate their short-comings. Incurably limited to a certain range
of ideas, totally incapable of mastering the great circle of thought,
unpleasantly egotistical, jaunty, and priggish, he is any thing but
attractive to the large-hearted cosmopolite and scholar of broad views,
while even to many more general readers, he appears as a man whom one
would rather read than be. On the other hand, the generous critic,
remembering that small minds must exist, and that great excellence may
be developed within extremely confined bounds, will perhaps take our
Parson cordially for just what he is, and do justice to his many
excellencies.

And they are indeed many, the principal being a humanity, a
sensitiveness to the sufferings of others, and a tenderness which causes
keen regret that we can not 'just for once,' by a few amiable
pen-strokes, give him nothing but praise, and thereby leave him, by
implication, as one of the million _ne plus ultra_ authors so common--in
reviews. We can hardly recall a writer who to so much firmness and real
energy, allies such warm sympathy for suffering in its every form. The
trials and troubles of young people awake in him a pity and a noble
generosity which, could they be impressed on the minds of all who
control the destinies of youth, would make the world far happier than it
is. Had he written only Concerning the Sorrows of Childhood, the Country
Parson would have well deserved the vast 'popularity' which his writings
have so justly won. 'Covenanting austerity' and Puritanical
ultra-propriety are repulsive to him and, he deals them many a brave
blow. He sees life as it is with singular shrewdness, catches its lights
and shadows with artistic talent, and like all tender and genial
writers, keenly appreciates humor, and conveys it to us either
delicately or energetically, as the point may require. He writes _well_,
too, always. Clear as a bell, always to the point, refined enough for
the most fastidious gentleman and scholar, and yet intelligible and
interesting to any save the very illiterate. If any young aspirant for
literary honor wishes to touch the hearts of the people, and secure the
first elements of popularity, we know of no living writer from whom he
may draw more surely for success than from the Country Parson. Pity that
when we come to higher criticism, to the appreciation of truly great and
broadly genial views, he should fail as he does. Out of his canny
Scotch-English corner of thought, he is sadly lost. Thus, in one place
we have the following avowal, which is only not _naif_ because evidently
put in to please the prejudices of sympathetically narrow readers. After
arguing, with most amusing ignorance of the very first principles of a
general aesthetic education, that there is really no appeal beyond
individual taste, or beyond 'what _suits_ you,' he says:

'For myself, I confess with shame, and I know the reason is in
myself, I can not for my life see any thing to admire in the
writings of Mr. Carlyle. His style of thought and language is to
me insufferably irritating. I tried to read _Sartor Resartus_, and
could not do it.'

Almost in the same paragraph our Parson proclaims for all the world that
'no man is a hero to his valet,' and says that there are two or three
living great men whom he would be sorry to see, since 'no human being
can bear a too close inspection.' 'Here,' he declares, 'is a sad
circumstance in the lot of a very eminent man: I mean such a man as Mr.
Tennyson or Professor Longfellow. As an elephant walks through a field,
crushing the crop at every step, so do these men advance through life,
smashing, every time they dine out, the enthusiastic fancies of several
romantic young people.'

Is this just? Is it _true_? The Parson, be it observed, speaks not
solely for 'romantic young people,' but for 'you' and for himself. Had
he read Carlyle's _Sartor Resartus_, he might there have learned that no
man is a hero to his valet, not because he is not always great, but
because that valet has a poor, flunkey, valet's soul. He who quotes such
an aphorism as a truth, calls himself a valet.

But let the reader forget and forgive these drawbacks, which are rarely
manifested, and bear in mind that our pleasantly gossiping, earnest,
honest writer is, within his scope, one of the most delightful essayists
in our English tongue. A man need not be a far-reaching thinker and
scholar to be kind, good, and _true_, manly and agreeable. He may have
his self-unsuspected limits and weaknesses, and yet do good service and
be a delightful writer, cheering many a weary hour, and benefiting the
world in many ways. Such a writer is the Country Parson, and as such we
commend him to all who are not as yet familiar with his essays.

CADET LIFE AT WEST-POINT. By an Officer of the United States Army. With
a Descriptive Sketch of West-Point, by BENSON J. LOSSING. Boston:
T.O.H.P. Burnham. 1862.

The American public has long needed a work on West-Point, and we have
here a very clever volume, by one who has retained with great accuracy
in his memory its predominant characteristics, and repeated them in a
very readable form. Occasional stiffness and 'mannerism' are in it
compensated for by many vivid pictures of cadet-life, and we can well
imagine the interest with which every page will be perused by old
graduates of the institution, and others familiar with its details.

We regret to say that, on the whole, the work has not left with us a
pleasant impression of the system of instruction followed at West-Point.
There appear to be too many studies, too little time to master them, and
too much stress laid on trifles. Certainly a strictly military school
must be different from others, and there can be no doubt that old
officers know better than civilians how young men should be trained for
the army. But we cannot resist the impression that if this work be
truthful, the author has, often unconsciously, shown that there is much
room for reform at West-Point.

A DISCOURSE ON THE LIFE, CHARACTER, AND POLICY OF COUNT CAVOUR. By
VINCENZO BOTTA, Phil. D. New-York: G.P. Putnam, No. 532 Broadway. 1862.

This excellent address which, in its present form embraces 108 octavo
pages, first delivered in the Hall of the New-York Historical Society,
has since been repeated to one of the most cultivated audiences ever
assembled in Boston, on both occasions eliciting the most cordial
admiration from all who were so fortunate as to be present. Of the
ability of the eminent Dr. Botta to write on this subject, it is almost
needless to speak. A late member of the Italian Parliament, and formerly
Professor of Philosophy in the College of Sardinia, intimately
acquainted with the great men of modern Italy, as with those of the
past, in their writings, and cast by personal experience amid stirring
scenes, he is singularly well qualified to write of Cavour, for whom it
was reserved to achieve, in a great measure, the work which the vain
longings of an enslaved people, and the heroic efforts of centuries,
had been unable to accomplish.' The work before us is, in fact, far
more than its very modest title would lead us to infer. It is, in fact,
a comprehensive and excellent history of all that great political
revival of Italy of which Cavour was the centre--a work as admirable for
scholarly clearness as for the evidently vast knowledge on which it is
based. It is needless to say that we commend its perusal, with right
good-will, to all who take the slightest interest in historical studies
or in the politics of modern Europe.

THE KORAN. Translated by GEORGE SALE. With a Life of Mohammed. Boston:
T.O.H.P. Burnham. 1862.

Good authority in Arabic has declared that, after all the many versions
of the Koran extant, there is none better than that by 'George Sale,
Gentleman,' first published in 1734. We therefore welcome the present
edition, and with it even the very old-fashioned Life of Mohammed given
with it--a 'life' so very narrow in its views and antiquated in its
expression, that it has acquired a certain relish as a relic or literary
curiosity. We learn with pleasure that this is the first of a series of
the Holy Books of every nation, to embrace translations of the Vedas,
the Zend-Avesta, the Edda, and many others. Thoreau suggested many years
ago--we think in _Walden_--that such a collection should be published
together for the world's use, and we rejoice to see his wish realized.

JEFFERSON AT MONTICELLO. The Private Life of Thomas Jefferson. From
entirely new materials, with numerous fac-similes. By Rev. HAMILTON W.
PIERSON, D.D., President of Columbia College, Ky. New-York: Charles
Scribner, No. 124 Grand street. Boston: A.K. Loring. 1862.

'The Private Life of Jefferson at Monticello' is too ambitious a title
for a little work of 138 pages, octavo though they be. It is, however,
an extremely valuable and interesting collection of anecdotes,
fac-simile documents, and casual reminiscences of Thomas Jefferson, as
preserved by Captain Edmund Bacon, now a wealthy and aged citizen of
Kentucky, and who was for twenty years the chief overseer and
business-manager of Jefferson's estate at Monticello. In it we see the
author of the Declaration and the statesman as he was at home, generous,
peculiar, and far-sighted. Very striking is the following reminiscence
of Captain Bacon:

'Mr. Jefferson did not like slavery. I have heard him talk a great
deal about it. I have heard him prophesy that we should have just
such trouble with it as we are having now.'

A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS. By J. CORDY JEAFFRESON. From the English edition.
New-York; Rudd and Carleton. Boston: A. Williams and Company. 1862.

An amusing and interesting collection of anecdotes of English physicians
of all ages, copious enough in detail, and well enough written to escape
the charge of being a mere _piece de manufacture_ and deserve place
among the curiosities of literature. It is a work which will find place
in the library of many a _medico_, and doubtless prove a profitable
investment to the publisher. Hogarth's 'Undertaker's Arms' forms its
appropriate and humorous vignette.

A POPULAR TREATISE ON DEAFNESS, ITS CAUSES AND PREVENTION. By Drs.
LIGHTHILL. Edited by E. BUNFORD LIGHTHILL, M.D. With Illustrations.
New-York: Carleton, Publisher, No. 413 Broadway, (late Rudd and
Carleton.) Boston: A. Williams and Company. 1862.

Many persons suffer from defective hearing, or lose it entirely, from
want of proper attention to the subject, or knowledge of the structure
of the auricular organs. Thus the old often become incapable of hearing,
yet let it pass without recourse to medical advice, believing the
calamity to be inseparable from the due course of nature. The present
work will, we imagine, prove useful both to practitioner and patient,
and be the means of preserving to many a sense which, in value, ranks
only next to that of sight.

* * * * *

EDITOR'S TABLE

If any one doubts that there is a powerful Southern influence in active
operation in the Union, let him reflect over the movement in Washington
'for the purpose of reviving the Democratic party.' A more treacherous,
traitorous, contemptible political intrigue was never organized in this
country; and the historian of a future day will record with amazement
the fact, that in the midst of a war of tremendous magnitude, when our
national existence and our whole prosperity were threatened, the enemy
were still allowed to plot and plan unharmed among us, under so shallow
a disguise that its mockery is even more insulting than would be open,
brazen opposition.

They have ingeniously taken advantage of the cry against the management
of the war by McClellan, these covert disunionists, to form a McClellan
party, and 'to support General McClellan's war policy'! A more ingenious
and more iniquitous scheme of fomenting disunion could not be devised.
By resolving to resist President Lincoln's moderate, judicious, and wise
Message, while on the other hand they indorsed in express contrast
McClellan, these treacherous disunion Democrats hoped to foment discord
among us and thereby extend important aid to the enemy.

If the people would know where their foes are most active, let them look
at home. Months ago they were warned that this very trick would be tried
among us on behalf of the South. Months ago the Louisville _Journal_, in
speaking of the manner in which Southern spies in the North were working
by treachery, declared that 'they wound a net-work of influences around
Congress and the powers that be, to retain men in the departments and to
get others in--especially in the War Department--who were shining lights
in the 'castles' of the K.G.C. _for the avowed and express purpose of
aiding the enemy_ by treacherously watching and conveying the secrets of
the Government to the rebel army.'

Has not this accusation been abundantly proved? Does not the whole
country know that traitors, 'democratic' traitors, have acted so
successfully as spies that nothing has been kept secret from the enemy?

'Men were selected in the States and sent hundreds of miles to
Washington, with strong influences to back them for this purpose. Better
to carry out their project, they adroitly raised the 'No Party' cry,
_and by professing the most exalted and devoted loyalty_, claimed the
best places in which to betray the Union cause.' 'They claim a large
number of the officers of companies, regiments, brigades, and divisions,
and even have the audacity to whisper that General McClellan understands
their programme and is not unfavorable to working up to it.'

Fortunately the great mass of the Northern people can not be affected by
such traitorous tricks. There is but one party in the country, and that
is the Union and the War party. Here and there a coward may waver and be
frightened at the prospect of a Democratic opposition raising its head
successfully to withstand the great onward movement, but his quavering
voice will be unheard in the great cry for battle. We have accepted this
war with all its fearful risks, and we will abide by it. We will be true
to our principle of a united country, we will be true to our word to
crush rebellion, and we will be true to our brave soldiers who are
fighting manfully for the right. If we adhere steadfastly to these
resolutions, we shall have no cause to dread traitors within or foes
without the loyal Union.

When the World's Fair was held in 1851, in London, _Punch_, moved by the
intensest spirit of British conceit, politely suggested that it would be
a good plan to have placards containing the words, 'It is good to have
the conceit taken out of us,' in all languages, hung all over the
Exhibition--the intention being to courteously intimate to foreigners
their general inferiority to John Bull. Certainly it is a good thing to
have the conceit taken out of us--with the saving clause added by our
contributor, H.P.L.--'so that it be not done with the corkscrew of
ignorance,' or of conceit itself, as is generally the case when English
wit attempts such extraction. Yet it must be admitted that in one thing
Brother Jonathan has very fairly had the conceit taken out of him--which
need not have been, had he only attended to the lessons taught him by
John Bull and Jean Crapaud.

We refer to the matter of iron-clad vessels of war. England already had
her 'Warrior,' and France her 'Gloire,' with all their resistant powers
fully tested by experiment, and yet this war had progressed one year
without finding our Government in possession of a single iron-mail
steamer. Our foes, with many disadvantages, had more wit, and gained a
victory the more galling, because in naval matters we of the North claim
in ability to rank with England herself. Perhaps history contains no
parallel instance of such negligence, such weakness. It is a matter
calling for investigation and exemplary punishment. The guilt lies
somewhere, and must be atoned for.

It is, however, interesting to remark, that in this, as in so many other
matters, science is very rapidly changing the character of warfare. In a
few years the war-navies of the world will consist almost exclusively of
iron-mail steamers, since no other vessel can resist their attacks. Yet
these steamers, though far more expensive than the old wooden hulks--so
expensive that the 'Warrior' alone caused an outcry in England as a
national burden--can readily sink one another in a few minutes by the
use of the prow, or by returning to the primitive cock-fighting fashion
in vogue among the iron-beaked galleys of earliest antiquity.

Will it pay, under such extraordinary conditions of naval warfare, to
fight at all? will probably be the next question, asked. When a few
minutes may witness the literal sinking of a few millions of dollars,
tax-paying people will begin to stand aghast. The very idea of England
and America playing a game of war with such checks, is as terrible as it
is startling; it is like the suggestion to fight out a duel with
columbiads, or as the two Kentucky engineers are said to have done, with
full-steamed locomotives in collision. No patriotism, no wealth, no
sacrifice, can endure such drafts as the loss of iron-clad navies would
involve. War would eat itself up.

Possibly genius may contrive vulcanized gutta-percha or other resistant
steamers which can neither be billed nor gaffed, shot nor slashed into
sinking--vessels beyond all capacity for bathos, and no more to be
persuaded into going under than was the black Baptist convert of David
Crockett's story. What would naval battles amount to between such
invulnerables? The Roman mythology had a fable of a hare which had
received from the gods the gift that it was never to be caught, while at
the same time there was a hound which was destined to catch every thing
he pursued. One day the hound began to chase the hare; Jupiter settled
the question by changing them both to stone. Paradoxes can only be
solved by annihilation. When war becomes, by the aid of science,
all-destructive, yet all-resistant, it must perish. History shows a
gradual decrease of deaths in proportion to improvements in destruction
of life. It is gratifying to reflect, that this war, by developing the
full capacities of iron-plated vessels, has made a most important
advance toward the impossibility of warfare.

It is amusing to see how decisively, yet with what preposterous
ignorance of any thing like the true state of affairs in this country,
the English press informs the public as to the 'ex or inexpediency' of
President Lincoln's Message.

Not one of its editors has, as yet, had the grace or wit to discover
that, simply as a precedent and as a record, it puts an entirely new
face on the war, by manifesting a _policy_ on the part of Government.
Not one seems to appreciate that the slaveholder who, after its
publication, loses his human chattels by the hap of war, has only
himself to thank for his loss. If Cuffy runs away, when the army comes,
by what earthly show of sense or justice does the master complain, who
has refused to accept payment for him? _Dans la guerre, comme a la
guerre_--in war-time, people must accept of war's chances.

To voluntarily offer to literally ease the fall of the enemy, as Mr.
Lincoln has done, is a stretch of magnanimity which would be
incomprehensible to any Old World rulers. How long would a Napoleon or a
Wellington, unembarrassed by aught save the direst military conduct of a
war, have hesitated to free the blacks, and win victory by every or any
means? Mr. Lincoln has had more difficult and complicated elements to
deal with. He has the enemy not only in the field, but by myriads at
home, among those who pretend to urge on the war. He has them 'spying
and lying' every where--_promoting cabals in favor of a General, and
exciting opposition, in order to eventually crush him_--urging Southern
rights and amnesties--deluding and confounding every thing. No wonder,
after all, that the London _Times_, comprehending nothing, should have
been so wildly asinine as to see in the Message only a bid to conciliate
the South!--a timid, making-up measure. The _Times_ is behind our times,
and no wonder, when a Russell flounders about for it among us, becoming
more densely befogged and confused with every new idea which entangles
itself with his pre-conceived English opinions.

The country is rejoiced to hear that General Wool has ordered Russell
away from Fortress Monroe. When the latter quits the country, it will be
as though it had heard some very good news for our nation's benefit.

* * * * *

We were not at first disposed to believe in the many revolting stories
so generally circulated, stating that the rebels had actually, in many
instances, boiled the bodies of the Federal dead, for the purpose of
obtaining the bones as relics. So frequently, however, has the story
been repeated, and from so many trustworthy quarters, that we are
reluctantly compelled to admit that such paragraphs as the following,
from the Southern correspondence of the Boston _Journal and Transcript_,
are very possibly founded in fact:

'_Washington, 1st_.

'The certainty that the graves of the members of the Chelsea and
Boston Fusilier companies who fell in the advance on Bull Run,
last July, have all been despoiled, with a probability that their
bones were sent South, as relics, causes a deep feeling of
indignation here.

'A citizen of Cambridge, Mass., who went to Bull Run to recover
the remains of his brother, who belonged to a Boston company,
gives a sad account of the sacrilege committed upon the graves of
our soldiers by the rebels. About twenty of a Boston company and a
Chelsea company had been buried near each other, but every skull
had been taken away, and nearly all the principal bones of the
bodies were gone. Some of the bodies had been dug out, and others
pried out of the graves with levers, and in some the sleeves of
uniforms were split to obtain the bones of the arms. It was
described as a sickening spectacle.'

When we recall the savage, half-Indian nature of many of the lower
Southern troops, and the threats of scalping and mutilating, in which
they so often indulged; and when we remember that even in Richmond, the
body of John Brown's son is still exposed, as the label on it intimates,
not as a scientific preparation, but as a warning to Abolitionists; we
see nothing extraordinary in such tales. If professors, men of science,
and 'gentlemen' can wreak vengeance on the harmless bodies of the dead,
and place a placard, expressing the hope that it may be thus with those
who simply differ with them in political opinions, it is not to be
wondered at that their rude and ignorant _confreres_ should dig up dead
bodies, and send the bones home as relics. It is just possible, however,
that we do not appreciate the true motives of these Ghouls. When
Scanderbeg died, his enemies fought among themselves to obtain the
smallest fragment of his bones, believing that their possession would
confer on the lucky wearer some of the courage of the great hero
himself. And so it may be that these craven savages hope to get a little
real Northern pluck and stubborn endurance.

* * * * *

We cheerfully find place for the following, dated from 'Willard's,
Washington, D.C., April 2d:'

'DEAR CONTINENTAL: I know that the CONTINENTAL publishes nothing but
original articles, and therefore beg you, at the request of your large
and highly respectable Washington constituency, to find a shelf for the
following, which is original with Bill H. Polk _and_ the Louisville
_Dem'docrat_:'

THE EXPERIENCES OF GEORGE N. SANDERS--HOW HE LEFT NASHVILLE, AND
HOW HE HOPES TO GET TO RICHMOND.

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