FOOTNOTES:
[8] This aphorism has been probably assigned to Lord Bacon upon the mere authority of the index to his works. It is the aphorism of the index-maker, certainly not of the great master of inductive philosophy. Bacon has, it is true, repeatedly dwelt on the power of knowledge, but with so many explanations and distinctions, that nothing could be more unjust to his general meaning than to attempt to cramp into a sentence what it costs him a volume to define. Thus, if in one page he appears to confound knowledge with power, in another he sets them in the strongest antithesis to each other; as follows, "Adeo, signanter Deus opera potentiæ et sapientiæ diseriminavit." But it would be as unfair to Bacon to convert into an aphorism the sentence that discriminates between knowledge and power as it is to convert into an aphorism any sentence that confounds them.
[9] "But the greatest error of all the rest is the mistaking or misplacing of the last or farthest end of knowledge:—for men have entered into a desire of learning and knowledge, sometimes upon a natural curiosity and inquisitive appetite; sometimes to entertain their minds with variety and delight; sometimes for ornament and reputation; and sometimes to enable them to victory of wit and contradiction; and most times for lucre and profession;"—[that is, for most of those objects which are meant by the ordinary citers of the saying, 'Knowledge is power;'] "and seldom, sincerely, to give a true account of these gifts of reason to the benefit and use of men; as if there were sought in knowledge a couch whereupon to rest a searching and restless spirit; or a terrace for a wandering and variable mind to walk up and down, with a fair prospect; or a tower of state for a proud mind to raise itself upon; or a fort or commanding ground for strife and contention; or a shop for profit or sale—and not a rich storehouse for the glory of the Creator, and the relief of men's estate."—Advancement of Learning, Book I.
UNCLE JOHN; OR, THE ROUGH ROAD TO RICHES.
England affords, even in these degenerate days of peace, innumerable examples of the class called "lucky fellows;" that is to say, men who have begun life with a charity-school education and a shilling, and are now prosperous in wealth and station. Perhaps it is hardly fair to impute to good-luck, what may be mainly owing to industry, frugality, patience, and perseverance. But, after all, one may starve with all these virtues, in spite of all that copy-book maxims may say to the contrary. There is good-luck in success, whatever may have been the qualities by which that good luck has been seized at the right moment and turned to good account. Industry, frugality, patience, and perseverance, form a perfect locomotive—good-luck is the engine-driver who turns the handle and sets them in motion at the right moment.
Men who have been the "architects of their own fortunes," never admit that good luck has had any thing to do with their prosperity. Their pardonable vanity at their own success makes them guilty of a species of ingratitude to Providence. Listen to one of these old gentlemen holding forth to his hopeful son or nephew on his, the said old gentleman's, past life; on his early poverty, his self-denial, his hard work, and his subsequent reward; and the burden of his discourse is ever the same,
"Alone I did it, boy!"
Should the listener at any point be tempted rashly to exclaim "how lucky!" the old gentleman will turn on him with a severe frown and say, "luck, sir; nonsense. There's no such thing as luck. Live on a crust, sir; that's the only way for a man to get on in the world." The old gentleman quite forgets that if his first venture in the Chutnee East Indiaman had been a failure; or his first dabble in the stocks had not been followed by the battle of Leipsic; or his senior partner, who had nine-tenths of the profits of the business, had not departed this life suddenly in an apoplectic fit, he would have held a very different position in the world, and probably have been now a denizen of the second floor over his counting-house in the city, instead of a resident in Hyde Park Gardens.
An excellent specimen of this class of old gentlemen is "Uncle John." The obscurity of his early days is so great that even he himself finds it difficult to penetrate it. That he had a father and a mother is incontestable; but these worthy people seem to have left this world of sin at so early a period of "Uncle John's" existence, that, for all practical purposes, he might as well have been without them. His first juvenile recollections are connected with yellow stockings, leather shorts, a cutaway coatee with a tin badge on it, and a little round woolen cap with a tuft in the middle of it, resting on a head formed by nature to accommodate a cap of double its dimensions. In a word, "Uncle John" was a charity-boy.
It must not be imagined that the above fact has ever been communicated by Uncle John himself; for the worthy man is weak enough to be ashamed of it, though he will discourse of his early privations in a mystical manner, with the design apparently of inducing you to regard him rather as a counterpart of Louis Philippe in his days of early exile, than as a commonplace, though equally interesting (to a right-thinking mind) young gentleman in yellow stockings. It is a fact, however, as indisputable as that Uncle John is now worth thirty or forty thousand pounds.
Emerging from the charity-school, and exchanging the leather shorts and yellow stockings for corduroys and gray worsted socks, Uncle John obtained the appointment of office-boy to a Temple attorney. His duties were multifarious—sweeping the office and serving writs, cleaning boots and copying declarations. His emoluments were not large—seven shillings a week and "find himself," which was less difficult, poor boy, than to find any thing for himself. But Uncle John persevered and was not disheartened. He lived literally on a crust, and regaled himself only with the savory smells issuing from the cook's-shop, which was not only an economical luxury, but had the advantage of affording a stimulus to the imagination. He actually saved two shillings a week out of his salary, not to mention an occasional donation of a shilling on high days and holidays from his master.
Uncle John was never idle. When he had nothing to do for his master, which was rarely the case, he used to take a pen and any loose piece of paper or parchment, and copy, or imitate, the lawyer's engrossing hand—known as court-hand—till he became a good penman in this cramped style of writing. Having accomplished this object, Uncle John determined to "better himself," by getting a situation as copying clerk instead of office boy. He succeeded in his attempts, and was installed in another attorney's office as engrossing clerk at twelve shillings a week—a salary which appeared to him, at the time, enormous. But riches did not turn his head. The only increase which he made in his previous expenditure, was in wearing a rather cleaner shirt, and discarding corduroys for some more genteel material. Uncle John was too wise and too self-denying to be seduced inside the cook's-shop yet.
He was now saving at least six shillings a week, which is £15 a year! For four years no change took place in his condition. He still lived in his solitary garret; worked hard all day, and borrowed law books from the articled clerks in the office, which he read at home at night. At home! poor fellow—what a name for his miserable little room up in the tiles of a house in a narrow court out of Fleet-street! But Uncle John was a brave fellow, and worked on without stopping to sentimentalize.
A promotion now took place in the office, and Uncle John was made chief common-law clerk at one pound a week. He had rendered himself quite competent for the duties by his midnight studies. He was never absent from his post, never forgot any thing, and was never ill; for he had the strength of a horse. It is suspected that about this time, Uncle John paid one or two visits to the cook's-shop; but it must not be supposed that the visits were more than one or two. As a rule, Uncle John dined on a piece of the cheapest meat he could purchase, boiled by himself in his garret.
He was wise enough, however, to be very neat in his dress, and thereby gained the credit of being a very respectable young man in the eyes of his employer; for it is a very remarkable fact that clerks are always expected to dress like gentlemen when their salaries are not even large enough to buy them food.
Another four years passed away, when one day Uncle John, having duly screwed up his courage, walked into his master's private room, and, after a little preliminary hesitation, ventured to hint that he should like to be articled! The master stared—the clerk remained silently awaiting his answer.
"Are you aware," inquired the former, "that the expense of the stamp, &c., is one hundred and twenty pounds?"
Uncle John was aware of it, and he was prepared with the money. He had saved it out of his miserable salary.
The master stared still more. But, after a short time, he consented to article Uncle John, and to continue his salary during the term of his articles. Uncle John was in ecstasies, and so far forgot his usual prudence that evening as to indulge in half a pint of bad port wine—a taste, by the way, which he has retained to this day.
He was now a happy man. Every thing was "en train" now to make him one day a "gentleman by Act of Parliament"—as attorneys are facetiously termed. It would certainly require something more than even the omnipotence of an Act of Parliament to confer the character on some of the fraternity.
During the first year of his articles the managing clerk died, and Uncle John was promoted to that office with a salary of two hundred a year. Here was, indeed, a rise in life—from seven shillings a week to two hundred a year! Happy Uncle John. But you deserved it all; for you had plenty of the courage which is prepared for all ills, and endures those which it can not conquer.
Long before the five years of his articles had expired, the clerk had made himself so absolutely necessary to the master, that the latter could scarcely have carried on the business for a month without him. Therefore, when the time arrived at which he ceased to be a clerk and became himself an attorney, Uncle John hinted to his master that he was going to leave him. Cunning Uncle John! You had no such intention; but you knew that your master would take alarm, beg you to stay, and offer you a partnership. Of course—and he did so.
Uncle John's path in life was from henceforth comparatively smooth. He was the working partner in a business which was both profitable and of good quality. Within a few years his partner was foolish enough to quarrel with him, and to demand a dissolution of the partnership. Uncle John readily consented, and all the clients knowing well who was the man that understood the business and transacted it, followed him; and he became an attorney with a practice of two thousand a year, and no partner to share the profits.
His economical habits never forsook him. He married and kept a decent table; but save in a love of good wine (or at least what his uneducated taste considered so), he had nothing but the ordinary necessaries of life. How much he saved each year who shall say? He had no children, and his practice increasing while his wants stood still, he became what he is now—a prosperous and highly respected old gentleman.
It is the fashion of the old to point out such men as models for the imitation of the rising generation. The young, on the contrary, make them the subjects of their ridicule, for their bad grammar and worse manners. Let us see if we can find out the truth, unbiased by either party. Uncle John is now a rich man, an honorable man, a hardworking man, and in the main a sensible man. He has attained his position in life by patience, perseverance, and industry, favored also by a little of that good luck to which we first referred. But Uncle John is deficient in many of the characteristics which adorn human nature. Is it not natural that he should be so? Where was he to learn the gentler feelings of his kind—affection, sympathy, benevolence? In his garret, alone and unfriended? He is mean and parsimonious. He is worth forty thousand pounds, and his deceased brother's child is starving with his wife in a suburban garret. Uncle John will not aid him with a penny. Who aided him? Did he not live in a garret, and save money too? Was he such a fool as to marry before he could keep a wife? Uncle John was guilty of no weaknesses in those days; he can not forgive them in another.
His only brother dies, leaving a large family and a widow—unprovided for: for the children have eaten up all he could ever earn. Uncle John does not like the widow (perhaps because she had so many children), but he gives her £50 a year. His own income is about four thousand.
His only sister is also left a widow without a sixpence. Uncle John gives her £50 a year. "People should not marry imprudently. He can afford no more; he has a great many calls upon him." Perhaps so; but the answer to such calls is always, "not at home."
He has many clerks now. He makes them all work twelve hours a day. Why not? He worked twelve hours a day.
He has articled clerks too. They must work twelve hours a day also. He did it. True, Uncle John; but you had your salary for it; while they, on the contrary, pay you for the privilege of working for you.
There is an old adage that a slave makes the worst tyrant. Uncle John exemplifies it. Because he suffered poverty and privation, he thinks that every youth should endure the same. Because nature had given him the constitution of a horse, he thinks that every one should have a similar one.
Such men as Uncle John are striking examples of certain qualities; and of those particular qualities which conduce to success in life. Their highest praise (perhaps there is no higher praise in the world) is their unflinching integrity. But we can not bring ourselves to think them—on the whole—models for imitation. After all, there is selfishness at the bottom of their first motives, and this quality grows with their growth, and strengthens with their strength, till, in their old age, they are impatient at all the enjoyments of youth. The hardships of their younger days are not only to be pitied for the pain they must have inflicted at the time, but because they have closed up all the avenues through which the gentler, nobler, and more generous sympathies of our nature find their way into the heart. Their want of education has not been of the mind alone, but of the affections; and as it is ten thousand times more difficult to learn a language or a science in old age than in youth, so it is infinitely more difficult (if it be not impossible) to teach the science of the affections, and the language of the heart, to the old man whose youth has known nothing of either. Affliction and adversity teach oft-times sympathy and benevolence; but to do so they must have followed on happier times, and not have been a birth-portion. You may praise and respect "Uncle Johns," but you can not love them—neither can they love you.
DARLING DOREL.
Dorothea Sibylla, Duchess of Brieg, was born at Cöln, on the River Spree, in Prussia, on the 19th of October, 1590. She was the daughter of Elizabeth of Anhalt, and of John George, Margrave and Elector of Brandenburg, of the old princely Ascanian race. At the death of her husband in 1598, the widowed margravine retired to Crossen to superintend her daughter's education. In due time, suitors were not wanting for the hand of young Dorothea Sibylla: among others, the King of Denmark; but he sued in vain. Dorothea, at length, fixed her affection on John Christian, Duke of Liegnitz and Brieg, who enjoyed a great reputation for virtue, ability, and integrity. To him, after a short courtship. Dorothea was married on the 12th of December, 1610, at Crossen; and reached Brieg—the small capital of her future dominions—on the first of January in the following year.
Such is the dry sum of a charming Court biography, which first appeared in a periodical published in 1829, in Silesia, and which has been twice republished in a separate form—once (in 1838) at Brieg, under the title of "Passages from the Life of Dorothea Sibylla, Duchess of Liegnitz and Brieg." It purports to consist of extracts from the journal of a certain tanner and furrier of Brieg, named Valentinus Gierth, an occasional guest at the ducal castle, and ardent admirer of the duchess. As a simple, and—if internal evidence be worth any thing—truthful picture of German-Court life during the early part of the seventeenth century, it is not to be gainsayed; although suspicions of its authenticity have been cast upon it, similar to those which damaged the charms of the "Diary of Lady Willoughby," by eventually proving it to be a fiction.
Dorothea is described as a pattern of goodness, common sense, virtue, and piety. In domestic management, she was pre-eminent. For her own immediate attendants, she appointed fourteen maids of honor; and the first families of the land looked upon it as an inestimable privilege to place their daughters at the ducal court; which was a high school of all noble virtues and accomplishments, "whereof the duchess herself was the chief teacher and most perfect model."
Nothing could be more primitive than the duchess's intercourse with the townspeople. Occasionally she walked in the streets of Brieg accompanied by her maids of honor, and chatted with such of the townspeople as were sitting on the benches outside their doors. The little children looked forward with the greatest delight to these town walks of the duchess; for the ladies-in-waiting invariably carried about with them in their pockets all sorts of sweetmeats, which the duchess distributed among the little claimants. For this reason, the little children stood peeping round the corners of the streets, when it got wind that the duchess was about to walk out; more especially when it was surmised that the duke would not be with her. So soon, therefore, as Dorothea Sibylla left the castle gate, the little urchins would run through the town, like wildfire, crying out, "The darling Dorel is coming!—the darling Dorel is coming!"
The manner in which this endearing designation first came to her ears is related with affecting simplicity. "It happened," says Master Gierth, with true German particularity, "on the 10th of September (old style) in the year of our Lord, 1613;" that being the Feast of St. Sibylla—one of the duchess's name-saints—and also the second birth-day of her son George. There was a great feast at the castle; to which the towns-folks and the children of the High and Guild Schools were invited.
"From the terrace," quoth the chronicler, "the whole procession moved along a wide, smooth walk before the orangery; where the quality, as well as the children, were richly treated with strong, spiced wine, orange-water, and confectionery. Her ladyship did, likewise, lay certain presents before the young lord, her son; she did, likewise, examine the children's school-books, and the master's report, wherein the conduct of the children was noted, and did put apposite questions to them touching their Christian belief, and the like; and, on receiving right proper answers, her face did shine like an angel's.
"One little maiden, however, which was weak and ignorant, was not able to answer the questions aright; whereupon her ladyship did ask:
"'My child, what is your name?' Whereunto she did answer, 'Anna Pohlin.'
"'Well,' asked her ladyship, 'and what is my name?'
"Straightway the little maiden did answer, 'Darling Dorel!'
"Hereupon Master Valentinus Gierth was somewhat affronted, but did quickly recover himself and, stepping up to her ladyship, did say:
"'Most gracious lady! I trust your ladyship will pardon these words, and not take them amiss; inasmuch, as it is true that the women of this town, as well as of the neighboring villages, when they do speak of your ladyship, do commonly call your ladyship the Darling Dorel.'
"Then did the duchess fold her hands, and, raising them to heaven, did say:
"'God be praised for such a precious title! the which, as long as I am in my senses, I would not exchange against 'Your Majesty!'
"The duke did, thereupon, embrace her ladyship, saying:
"'Away with the title, 'princely consort!' I will ever henceforth call thee by none other save 'Darling Dorel!'"
We by no means intend to follow the good tanner through his minute records; but merely write thus much, as necessary preface to a quaint little love story. Premising that the duchess had sent, after her usual fashion, a marriage present to a certain lady, by two of her maids of honor (by name Agnes and Mary), we shall transfer the narrative to our pages in Master Gierth's own manner.
After the presentation of the gifts, and when the marriage ceremony was concluded, the two maids of honor were preparing to return to Brieg, when the bride's father stopped them, saying:
"'How? Shall I suffer two such angels of joy to depart, without tasting of my food and my drink? Nay, noble damsels, ye must abide here awhile beyond the marriage festivities, and be of good cheer! I will immediately dispatch a trusty messenger on horse to her most gracious ladyship, the duchess, and obtain leave for your sojourn here.'
"The two damsels did, therefore, abide there the space of three days, and became acquainted with two gallants of the place; with whom they did exchange love-tokens and rings. But when the two damsels returned to Brieg to render an account of their mission, the duchess did note the rings on the fingers of the two damsels, and questioned them how they came thereby. So soon, therefore, as the two damsels did confess the truth, their mistress, half-jestingly, and half in earnest, said unto them:
"'How now, ye gad-abouts! ye have scarce chipped the egg-shell, and have, as yet, no means to make the pot boil, seeing that ye are poor orphans, and under age; and ye yet dare to listen to the nonsense of strange gallants, unbeknown to your foster-mother! Tell me, foolish young things, ought I not to take the rod to you? Take off the rings from your fingers, and give them to me. I will send them back; seeing that the betrothal is null and void, and mere child's play.'
"The young damsels did then obey her ladyship, but wept apace the while. This caused her ladyship to have compassion upon them, and she did minister comfort to them thus:
"'Ah! beloved daughters! ye shed bitter, hot tears that ye do not already wear the curch [the German head dress of married women]. But if ye did but know the heaviness of being wedded wives, even when the cares are lightest, ye would rejoice! Meanwhile, the matter hath been carried on against all Christian order. I have always heard that the lover first maketh his suit known to the parents or the guardians, and that then the betrothal taketh place. Your suitors must needs be in great haste. Why stand they in such great necessity of pushing their suit?'
"Hereupon the damsel Agnes plucked up an heart, and said quickly,
"'Most gracious lady! the gentlemen did come with us; and have already the consent of their own parents to make their suit if they be but encouraged by a sign of approval.'
"'Ah! Heaven have mercy!' cried the duchess, joining her hands. 'Have ye, scape-graces indeed, brought your gallants hither? I dare not inquire further. May be, ye have hidden them in your chambers? Meggy (the duchess's nurse), beg his lordship to come hither; I must talk the matter over with him.'
"'After the duke had come and heard that which had befallen, he straightways asked the names of the gallants; and when the damsels had informed his grace thereof, his lordship did turn unto his consort, saying:
"'Listen, Darling Dorel: the parents, on both sides, are most worthy persons, and of unblemished birth. I advise that thou shouldst give thy consent thereunto! Remember, dearest, that we twain were of one mind long before I made known my suit unto thy mother.'
"Whereupon her ladyship did strike her lord upon the mouth with her kerchief, and said,
"'Well!—well!—but we must first look at these youths, and learn what they are like. Tell us now, young damsels, where are your lovers hidden, and what is the signal ye have agreed upon?'
"Agnes did immediately tell her ladyship that the gallants were housed at the Golden Pitcher; and, whereas the Lion's Tower, in the palace, could thence be plainly discerned, they had agreed to tie a white kerchief round the neck of one of the lions as a signal that there was hope for them! The gallants had agreed to abide at the hostel the space of eight days. Should the matter, however, turn out ill, the kerchief displayed was to be black.
"'Well done,' said the duchess to her husband; 'they wish to take two fortresses at once; and would have the white flag wave without firing a shot, and without attempting a storm.'
"Hereupon the Duke Christian did take the hand of his beloved wife, and spoke, somewhat in an under tone:
"'Darling wife! was not the green branch so often stuck in your window at Crossen; also a white flag? Moreover, thou knowest little of a siege; preparations for storming a citadel are not made during the daylight; but secretly, in the night season, in order that the garrison perceive them not. Shots may already have been fired. Tell me, young girls, have ye already kissed the gallants? Mary, do you speak; ye have not yet opened your mouth: make a clean breast.'
"'Ah! most gracious liege,' answered Mary, 'the gentlemen have, indeed, squeezed hands in secret, while we sat at table; and during the marriage-dance, and at sundry other dances, we kissed each other—seeing that others did the like. But we could not be alone with them at any other time; for the bride's mother was always about us, and we lay in her room. Neither, on the way home, had we much liberty; seeing that the old secretary, whom her ladyship did send with us, did observe us most narrowly. But, when the old man did look out of the window of the carriage, then did the gallants look tenderly upon us, and did kiss their hands to us."
"'There, now,' said his lordship, turning to his wife, 'you see that the siege was conducted with vigor. The squeezing of hands was the parley; the kisses the cannon-balls, sent so freely; and the tender looks the shells. Depend upon it the storm can not long be delayed. Listen, darling wife, my heart melts when I bethink me that we also, in our youth, could not brook a long delay.'
"'Let the drums beat the chamade [parley], and let us show our colors!' said the duchess; while she threw her arms round her husband's neck, and stopped his mouth with a kiss. The duke did then ask her, jestingly, 'But which flag shall it be?'
"Hereupon the two young damsels did cry aloud, as with one voice:
"'The white!—most gracious liege!—the white!'
"The duchess could not choose but laugh heartily, and his lordship did immediately order a servant to mount the tower, and to tie a white kerchief round one of the lion's necks. His lordship did then sing an old song the children are wont to sing on May-day:
"'A stately house my lord doth keep,
Two maidens from the windows peep;
A kerchief white the one doth wave,
Because they fain would husbands have.'
And then did depart to put on better apparel, wherein to await the coming of the wooers. He did also command that all the court ladies and the courtiers should be present at the wooing. Meanwhile, 'Darling Dorel' did ask the damsels where they had gotten the rings which they had presented to their gallants in return for theirs? Thereupon Agnes did reply unto her ladyship:
"'Most gracious lady! we are but poor orphans, and possess nought save poor little gold rings belonging to our departed mothers, And these we could not bear to part with. We have therefore promised to buy rings with our savings, and deliver them to our gallants on some fitting opportunity.'
"'In this case,' said her ladyship, 'ye are but half betrothed, and there is yet time to think twice of the matter;' nevertheless, her ladyship did praise the young damsels, inasmuch as they did not part lightly and rashly with their mothers' trinkets. She advised them, moreover, to tarry; as they or their gallants might change their minds.
"This speech did much alarm the damsels, who did then believe the whole matter to be postponed; and they did forthwith begin to weep, and to beseech her ladyship, not for this account, to cause their lovers to alter their mind, seeing that they, the damsels, were poor, and were not likely soon to get other suitors.
"The duchess did then say unto them: 'The misfortune would not be so great! I would find husbands for you soon enough.' Hereupon, she turned to old Meggy, and said,
"'Ah! most worthy nurse, what a life does a wretched princess lead! Had I but married an honest burgher, then should I have had nothing but my household duties and my children to attend to; I could have gone quietly to bed, slept without care, and waked with pleasure; but in my position every thing is otherwise. Alack, when my other damsels come hither, and learn that these silly girls are already betrothed, they will all run mad, and I shall have to send them to all the marriage feasts throughout the duchy to pick up husbands.'
"Hereupon, she sent the nurse Meggy for her jewel box, opened it, and gave to each of the two damsels a handsome ring, the which they might present to their lovers, and thus return their pledge; but under this condition, that they were not to deliver their rings until the duchess gave them a sign thereunto with her kerchief.
"While all this was going on, the duke on his part had entered the duchess's apartment, accompanied by the chamberlain, all the gentlemen of his court, and the maids of honor. The lovers, meanwhile, were on the look out, and were not aware that matters had gone to such a length touching their love affairs. They had joyfully obeyed the white signal, and stood near unto the gates of the castle waiting for some opportunity of seeing their betrothed. The duke perceived this, and hereupon opened the window, and called unto the soldiers on guard, 'Arrest me those two fellows, and conduct them to the guard-house, until further orders!'
"Hereupon the damsels, Agnes and Mary, were exceedingly afraid. The duke, however, did comfort them with the following words:
"'This is on your account; hasten and put on proper attire; ye still have got on your old clothes, and must adorn yourselves.'
"The damsels ran gleefully and quickly into their rooms; whither the duchess sent after them two other damsels to aid them in plaiting their hair. They soon returned; and each of the damsels about to be betrothed had put on the bridal wreath belonging to her mother.
"The duke now ordered the lovers to be summoned from the guard-house. They were sore abashed when they entered the room; especially when his gracious lordship addressed the following questions to them:
"'What are your names? Have you passports? and what is your will?'
"The young men twirled their caps in their hands; stared first at their loves, and then at their gracious lieges; but could not utter a word, and stood looking very sheepish.
"'Ah!' said his lordship, 'never in my life did I meet with two such dumb fellows. My dominions will soon touch those of Oppeln, and you serve excellent well as landmarks! can neither of ye say 'yea or nay?' Answer me straight! Have ye got the consent of your parents to propose for those two chits; and are ye ready to affirm the same on your word of honor, as gentlemen?'
"Then did the young men recover their speech, and they both answered, 'Yea.'
"'Well,' said the duke, 'I will now believe ye, and keep you at my court some few days; but as ye may be rogues and vagabonds for all that I know, I will therefore send a messenger on horseback to your parents to get further intelligence, and ye must have patience the while.'
"Hereupon the damsel, Mary, turned to the duchess, and said to her with great simplicity,
"'Most gracious lady, the gentlemen have spoken truth! Their parents have given them permission to woo us. We have concealed nothing from them, but confessed in the presence of the old lady Wentzkin, that we were poor orphan girls, and have no dower. But the mothers of our two lovers said that all was well; if only we brought a blessing from Darling Dorel, they should value it more than an earldom! This Agnes and I can affirm on oath.'
"On hearing this, the duchess folded her hands in prayer, looked toward heaven with tears in her eyes, and still praying, and gave the signal with her kerchief. Immediately the damsels placed the rings on the fingers of their lovers, knelt down before the duchess, and besought her blessing. The duchess laid her hands upon the heads of the young girls and said,
"'God alone, who is in heaven, knows whether this will prove a blessing or a curse; but, if God hear the prayer of a weak woman, it will prove a blessing! Bethink ye of your deceased parents; and may their blessing evermore accompany ye! And therefore, let us most fervently utter the Lord's Prayer.'
"Hereupon all present fell upon their knees, and prayed in a low voice; but her most gracious ladyship did say the Lord's Prayer aloud.
"After the prayer was finished, the duchess made a sign to the chief lady about the court, who did thereupon bring, on a silver salver, two half wreaths, which were twined in the hair of the two damsels, Agnes and Mary, after they had taken off their own wreaths; for it was the custom, in Brieg, for betrothed maidens to wear only half wreaths until their wedding-day, when they wore whole ones. The chamberlain did hereupon display from the window a red flag; upon which signal the ducal band did strike up a merry tune with trumpets and kettle-drums from the castle tower; whereupon a crowd gathered in the town to know the cause of such rejoicing at the palace.
"So soon, therefore, as the betrothed couples had duly thanked his grace and the duchess by kissing the hems of their garments, her gracious ladyship did announce to the betrothed damsels, that they should tarry with her for the space of one year, in order more fully to learn their household duties, and to strengthen them in the practice of the Christian virtues; seeing that they were still, as the duchess said, as ignorant as callow geese! Moreover, their clothes and furniture had to be provided, and the like. But to the gentlemen, she said:
"Mind, gentlemen, ye must also make the best of it! Ye are scarce out of leading-strings, and must go through some sort of ordeal. I would advise you to travel, if so be your parents can afford it.'
"'By all means,' added the duke; 'my Darling Dorel is perfectly right: you must travel; and, if ye know not whither, go to Jericho, and get ye some beards to your faces.'
"As it was yet early in the day, his gracious lordship did order dinner to be prepared: to which, besides the Town Council, and their wives and children, Master Valentinus Gierth and his wife Susanna, were invited.
"His gracious lordship was exceeding merry, and the duchess was most kind in her manner; nevertheless, the guests did not fail to mark that her gracious ladyship did oftentimes look toward the new brides, and that big tears did sometimes roll down her cheek the while."
COURTESY OF AMERICANS.
I like the Americans more and more: either they have improved wonderfully lately, or else the criticisms on them have been cruelly exaggerated. They are particularly courteous and obliging; and seem, I think, amiably anxious that foreigners should carry away a favorable impression of them. As for me, let other travelers say what they please of them, I am determined not to be prejudiced, but to judge of them exactly as I find them; and I shall most pertinaciously continue to praise them (if I see no good cause to alter my present humble opinion), and most especially for their obliging civility and hospitable attention to strangers, of which I have already seen several instances.
I have witnessed but very few isolated cases, as yet, of the unrefined habits so usually ascribed to them; and those cases decidedly were not among the higher orders of people; for there seems just as much difference in America as any where else in some respects. The superior classes here have almost always excellent manners, and a great deal of real and natural, as well as acquired refinement, and are often besides (which perhaps will not be believed in fastidious England) extremely distinguished-looking. By the way, the captains of the steamboats appear a remarkably gentlemanlike race of men in general, particularly courteous in their deportment, and very considerate and obliging to the passengers.—Lady Emeline Wortley.