Papers from Overlook House Part 8

Now came a great temptation.--Should I imitate certain authors who, by means of cunning sentences, made the trifling appear to be events which were all-important, and so transformed ideas, that the mean became an object of admiration?

I recalled an instance when an historian found a record of a man whom he desired to clothe in all possibility of royal purple, and so to find fame with his sect, or to gain applause as a gorgeous writer. The true narrative declared, "At this time he believed that he received from heaven a divine intimation, a light from above, a.s.suring him that a man might go through all the instruction of the Colleges of Oxford and Cambridge, and not be able to tell a man how to save his soul."

Now, this plain statement, however translated into the dignity of an ambitious style, would not appear to advantage in a brilliant eulogy.

The man was fanatical, and crazy. But the design was to represent him as a philosophical reformer in the religious world.

And now behold the power of art. In the original doc.u.ment there is a sad poverty, and deformity of flesh and bones. The poor creature must appear on the stage in kingly robes. Hear our model!--Behold the transformation! "At this time he was convinced that he received a divine illumination, infusing such thoughts as transcend the most elevated conceptions of mere human wisdom; and he was overwhelmed with the depth of the conviction, that a man might pa.s.s through all the extent of scholastic learning taught at Oxford and Cambridge, and not be able to solve the great problem of human existence."

Was there ever such alchemy? If I could attain a moderate degree of efficiency, as the pupil of such a writer, the small items of information collected at the village, could become a grand biography.

Let me see, thought I, what I can make of my material. I do not know that I could dare to publish words which would make a false impression.

But let me try my skill in this essay to trans.m.u.te poor substances into gold. I take the note concerning the visit to Mrs. Rachel Peabody,--and the account she gave me of the sicknesses of Eliza Jane, Faith Kitty, and John Potts.

"One of the most impressive views of the doctor, was his appearance among the young, when the sickness which does not spare our race in the days of our early development, was bearing its distress to the languid frame, and sorrow to the affectionate relatives who watched by the bed-side. I do not mean to say that this ill.u.s.trious physician was less skilful in dealing with the maladies of middle life, or with those which we deplore in the aged,--whose sun we would have to sink in all the tranquillity of a serene sky. It is the consequence of maternal love, that in this village where his great talents were so unfortunately circ.u.mscribed, you may still hear the most touching descriptions of his skill and tenderness by the cradle, and by the couch of those children, the future promise of our country, who would attend on the instructions of the academy, were it not that their condition has become one, where obscure causes prove to us the limitation of our finite capacities."

Let me now try my hand on the letter of Mr. Warren.

Note,--"The doctor was a solemn a.s.s." Biographical representation.

"Suspicion might arise with respect to the extent of the intellectual power of the doctor, if the biographer led the reader to suppose that all who knew him, in his retreat from the great circles where the understanding is cultivated to its highest degree, regarded him as a man of transcendent genius. The slow process of thought, often observable in men whose deductions reach the greatest alt.i.tude, like the great tree slowly evolved from its incipient stem, is a contradiction to the conceptions, which the vulgar form of the intellectual power of men of acute minds. They antic.i.p.ate the sudden flas.h.i.+ng of the eagle eye, and the flight of thought as with the eagle wing. And when they are doomed to disappointment, and meet with that seemingly sluggish action of the mind, which has learned caution, lest elements that should enter into the decision that is sought, should not be observed, it is an error at which a philosophical mind can afford a smile, to find that their unauthorized disgust, will seek a similitude for the great man of such tardy conclusions, in some animal that is proverbial for the dulness of its perceptions."

Note,--"Supposed to be wise, because he was solemn and stupid."

Biographical representation. "It is curious to observe that when contemporary testimony is elicited, concerning the powers of a superior man, you discover, amid unavoidable abuse and misrepresentation, unintentional testimony to his exalted qualities. While an attempt is made to undermine his claim to wisdom, it will incidentally appear that wisdom was ascribed to him. The endeavor of envy which would ostracise him, is a proof that it is excited by common admiration heaped upon its object."

Note,--The old lady who intimated that there had been "love pa.s.sages between herself and the Doctor"--Biographical representation.

"It is delightful to know that a man of such science, and constant observation, was not rude, or wanting in those gentle traits which allure the susceptibilities of the best portion of our race. I might narrate a romantic incident, which would prove how he had unintentionally inspired an affection in a lovely lady, which endured in the most singular extent, even to old age. I have witnessed her tears at the mention of his name. On the most ample scrutiny, I repose, when I say, that the Doctor had never trifled with this sincere love. The sense of devoted affection in this case, led the victim of a tender delusion to infer, that on his part, the regard was reciprocated. I can imagine the sorrow of his great heart, if he discovered the unfortunate error and misplaced pa.s.sion. In the case to which I now refer, I could only judge of the beauty and attractions of the early youth, by those remains of little arts and graceful att.i.tudes, which are the result, so generally, of a consciousness of a beauty that is confessed by all."

Then too I could avail myself of the ingenious devices of praise, by a denial of infirmities.

"In him there was nothing for effect--nothing that was theatrical--nothing done to cause the vulgar to stare with astonishment.

No pompous equipage, no hurried drives, no sudden summons from the dwellings of his friends, as if patients required his sudden attendance--no turgid denomination of little objects by words of thundering sound--no ordering the simple placing of the feet in hot water, as Pediluvium,--none of those arts were employed by the subject of our Biography, to acquire or extend his practice, or build up his great fame."

I also found some of the letters of the Doctor. Let me attempt the work of Alchemy again. Let me transform some pa.s.sage into the proper language of Modern Biography.

Thus I find this sentence in a letter to Colonel Tupp: "Some of our negroes in New Jersey are very troublesome, and some wise plan should be devised lest they become a heavy burden----"

"It would appear"--thus should it be erected into Biographical effect--"that the Doctor, to be named always with so much veneration, was probably one of the first of our men of giant minds, to foresee the dangers of the problem involved in the existence of the African race, in the new world. I claim him--on the evidence of his familiar epistolary correspondence--as the originator of the great movements of statesmen and philosophers, for its solution. He gave, beyond all contradiction, that impulse to the energetic thought, which has led to all the plans for the elevation of those, who bear 'G.o.d's image cut in ebony.' As we trace the voice to the distant fountain--or the immense circle of fire on our prairies, to the sparks elicited by the careless traveler from the small flint, so as I recall the present innumerable discussions on this sable subject, I refer them all to the unpretending utterances of this great man. I recur to the small village where he dwelt. His study, his favorite retreat, is before me. There, at the table, illuminated as it were with his ma.n.u.script, I see his impressive form. Near him are the pestle and mortar; the various jars on which are labels in such unknown words, that the country people regard them as if they were the ingredients for the sorcerer,--his coat,--his books,--his minerals,--such are his surroundings.

"There in that study--he first in the unostentatious effusions of a private letter, suggests the seed of those convictions, which led to the formation of the Colonization Society. No fanaticism, however, has marked and disfigured the stately forms of his thoughts, on the subject of the extinction of slavery. Let not the readers of this Biography at the Sunny South, imagine that he designed an interference with their possessions. There is evidence of the perfect balance of his mind on this subject, in the fact, that he designates them, in another letter, written probably after this one, which contains the immortal sentence, in which he employs a word, which in printed syllables, with the exception of one repeated letter in the English, resembles the Roman adjective for Black,--but whose p.r.o.nunciation rejected the cla.s.sical usage.

"I am aware that those who love his memory will be compelled to do battle for the honors which they justly claim for these and other antic.i.p.ations of later movements in the world of wisdom and philanthropy. As Harvey discovered the circulation of the blood, only to have his claim a subject of dispute, so our great Philosopher will find those to detract from his merits, and maintain that the great efforts to which we have alluded were of later origination."

While I speak upon this subject of the African discussion, I may remark that there is a singular discovery which I have made, as I have searched his papers, and concerning which I am in doubt, whether it should be delegated to oblivion or made the subject of ingenuous confession. I am aware that obscurity throws its shadow over the topic. I am also aware that I may hereby cast a suspicion of the spirit of a wild projector, over the subject of this memoir. I think, however, and believe that I do not flatter myself unjustly, that I have guarded against such a wrong by the delineation I have given of his calm and reflecting character.

The circ.u.mstances which my pen is somewhat reluctant to trace for fear of misapprehension, are these: I find in a letter to a friend the remark, "You would be no less startled by the a.s.sertion, that I could transform the African into a white man, than to learn from me that my Caesar has become sedulous in the discharge of his duties, and ceased to slumber by the kitchen fire when he should be at his work at the wood-shed."

Now observe this ominous suggestion about the transformation of the physical characteristics of those who have been translated among us from the land of sandy deserts. Here is a hint of the physical transformation of a black man into a white. And then I must add that I find two small pieces of paper lying near the letter, which seem to corroborate my view, which papers, I candidly confess,--here is the ground of hesitation, the momentum which disturbs the mind seemingly on the eve of its rest, might indeed have been prescriptions saved by accident, or have been hints on the subject of the transformation of the race of darkened skins. One of these fragments contains the words, "Elixir to remove the dark pigment which causes the surface discrimination"--on the other, "For the removal of odorous accidentals." I am willing to leave the subject to the consideration of my readers.

Then again I have known a man who had no brilliant or striking qualities, exalted into one of most honorable fame,--in this wise,--

"The doctor perhaps had no one gift of intellectual power which exalted him above other men. But look to the faculties which he possessed in admirable combination; regard him in the complete symmetry of his mind,"

etc. etc.

Thus I amused myself by this imitation of the system of eulogistic biographies. But I must confess that I had returned to my home oppressed with a feverish anxiety, as of one who felt that he had become involved in a hopeless undertaking. How utterly absurd the position which I occupied! How silly had I been in taking the a.s.surance of Mrs. Bolton for certain truth, and acting on the principle, that her husband was a great man in his day. I now began to regard the deceased as one of the most stupid creatures that had ever felt a pulse.

But then I had acquired the most morbid fear of meeting the widow. What excuse should I offer for a change of purpose? I have no doubt that my exposure and miserable life when at the village, seeking pearls and finding chaff, had produced a temporary derangement of my system, and that I had contracted some low fever.

Nothing else could account for the manner in which I was tormented by my position. What could be more easy than to say that I found myself unable to gather material for the life of the Great--I was about to say, old fool! Somehow I was spell-bound. I could not reason calmly on the subject. It broke my rest at night. It haunted me during the day. I now perceive, that I ought to have sought the advice of my physician. But then, common sense seemed to have deserted me on this one point. I was nervous, wretched, for so unreasonable a reason, and could not find relief. One night I dreamed that the widow and the doctor were both intent on murdering me. There she stood near me, the picture of wrath, and urging him, as a second Lady Macbeth, to destroy me. He advanced and raised his abominable pestle above his head. He smiled, proving how a man may smile and be a villain, and procrastinated the deadly blow to torment me. Fortunately I saw projecting from one of his huge pockets a large bottle of some specific which he had concocted for a patient.

Springing up, I seized the vial, and grasping him by the collar, was pouring it down his throat, saying, you infamous old murderer die of your own medicine, when a chair, near my bed, thrown violently half across the room by my impetuosity, awoke me.

But every knock at my door tormented me. Every letter was examined with terror,--lest I should recognize a hand calling me to account.

I found my way about Newark through unfrequented streets, and across the lots when it was practicable. Even when I went to the court-house, on business, I left my office, not by the door, but through a small back window, and by sundry winding ways reached my destination.

After this plan had been pursued for some time, I was duly honored by the following note.

"SIR:--You are not to think that your designs are unknown. Your singular conduct in pa.s.sing by my house so often,--a house so removed from the streets through which you would naturally pa.s.s,--could not fail to be observed by any man who had an eye in his head, and who regarded his rights. I am not alone in this observation of your proceedings. We have taken into consideration your stealthy look as you pa.s.sed, and have noticed how you watched at the corners, lest any one should see you.

"Depend upon it your designs are known. The villany is detected.

You are a hypocrite of the deepest dye. Unless you entirely, and immediately, relinquish your pursuit, you will suffer in a manner you little apprehend.

"Do not prowl in this mean way around my premises any more. Strive to retrieve your character. I hope the day may come when I can honor you as I now despise you.

"WARNING."

About the same time I received this additional note.

"DEAR BOB:--I heard the other day that you had returned home, and I have been eager to see you. They tell me that you have fallen desperately in love with a certain widow, and that you have been up the country, under pretence of partridge shooting, in order that you might inquire about her property. Are the inquiries satisfactory? Are the acres and dwellings such, that on your return, she appears to be angelic? Or, being disappointed as to the properties left her by her father, and the old doctor, is she but a woman of ordinary charms? Oh Bob! I never thought you so mercenary.

I thought that you would follow my example, and despise all but the real excellencies which can adorn a wife.

"Had it not been that I am lame, I should have been to see you,--as it is desirable that we should meet soon.

"Now I think of it, there is another foolish report about you,--that you go to the court-house by the back street, in consequence of your having heard that that scape-grace, Bill Turney, whom you lashed so terribly in your address before the squire, when Obadiah Potter was arrested for beating his wife, intended to pummel you as soon as he caught you. They say also that he describes his belligerent intentions in very graphic language, to wit, that he will, 'shoot through you, like lightning through a gooseberry bush.' These stories will amuse you.

"Stop and see me the first time you come along the main street in a bold manner.

"Your friend,

"J. WALTERS."

These annoyances had at least a good effect. I resolved that I would see the widow, and throwing off my nervous anxiety, explain to her that I could not possibly find materials sufficient for a biography. I intended also to suggest, that a physician might be better qualified for the undertaking.

Hence I gladly accepted the invitation of a fair cousin of mine, to be one of her guests for an evening party; where I felt confident that I should meet the widow.

It had now been several weeks since I had been thrown into the society of ladies. My health was improved. The nervous fever that had agitated me, had pa.s.sed away. The fascination of one whom I had sometimes met in our village gatherings, seemed to be restoring me to myself.

After a while, my companion looking across the room, said to me, "How well our widow looks this evening."

I thought that there was a mischievous look in her laughing eye. But sure enough--there stood the Empress, who had commanded the biography.