THE WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE

IN FIVE VOLUMES

The Raven Edition

VOLUME I

Contents:

 Edgar Allan Poe, An Appreciation Life of Poe, by James Russell Lowell Death of Poe, by N. P. Willis The Unparalleled Adventures of One Hans Pfall The Gold Bug Four Beasts in One The Murders in the Rue Morgue The Mystery of Marie Rogêt The Balloon Hoax MS. Found in a Bottle The Oval Portrait

EDGAR ALLAN POE

AN APPRECIATION

 Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-- Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of "never--never more!"

THIS stanza from "The Raven" was recommended by James Russell Lowell asan inscription upon the Baltimore monument which marks the resting placeof Edgar Allan Poe, the most interesting and original figure in Americanletters. And, to signify that peculiar musical quality of Poe's geniuswhich inthralls every reader, Mr. Lowell suggested this additionalverse, from the "Haunted Palace":

 And all with pearl and ruby glowing Was the fair palace door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling ever more, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king. 

Born in poverty at Boston, January 19 1809, dying under painfulcircumstances at Baltimore, October 7, 1849, his whole literary careerof scarcely fifteen years a pitiful struggle for mere subsistence, hismemory malignantly misrepresented by his earliest biographer, Griswold, how completely has truth at last routed falsehood and how magnificentlyhas Poe come into his own, For "The Raven, " first published in 1845, and, within a few months, read, recited and parodied wherever theEnglish language was spoken, the half-starved poet received $10! Lessthan a year later his brother poet, N. P. Willis, issued this touchingappeal to the admirers of genius on behalf of the neglected author, hisdying wife and her devoted mother, then living under very straitenedcircumstances in a little cottage at Fordham, N. Y. :

"Here is one of the finest scholars, one of the most original men ofgenius, and one of the most industrious of the literary profession ofour country, whose temporary suspension of labor, from bodily illness, drops him immediately to a level with the common objects of publiccharity. There is no intermediate stopping-place, no respectful shelter, where, with the delicacy due to genius and culture, he might secureaid, till, with returning health, he would resume his labors, and hisunmortified sense of independence. "

And this was the tribute paid by the American public to the master whohad given to it such tales of conjuring charm, of witchery and mysteryas "The Fall of the House of Usher" and "Ligeia"; such fascinatinghoaxes as "The Unparalleled Adventure of Hans Pfaall, " "MSS. Found in aBottle, " "A Descent Into a Maelstrom" and "The Balloon Hoax"; such talesof conscience as "William Wilson, " "The Black Cat" and "The Tell-taleHeart, " wherein the retributions of remorse are portrayed with an awfulfidelity; such tales of natural beauty as "The Island of the Fay" and"The Domain of Arnheim"; such marvellous studies in ratiocination as the"Gold-bug, " "The Murders in the Rue Morgue, " "The Purloined Letter"and "The Mystery of Marie Roget, " the latter, a recital of fact, demonstrating the author's wonderful capability of correctly analyzingthe mysteries of the human mind; such tales of illusion and banteras "The Premature Burial" and "The System of Dr. Tarr and ProfessorFether"; such bits of extravaganza as "The Devil in the Belfry" and "TheAngel of the Odd"; such tales of adventure as "The Narrative of ArthurGordon Pym"; such papers of keen criticism and review as won for Poe theenthusiastic admiration of Charles Dickens, although they made him manyenemies among the over-puffed minor American writers so mercilesslyexposed by him; such poems of beauty and melody as "The Bells, " "TheHaunted Palace, " "Tamerlane, " "The City in the Sea" and "The Raven. "What delight for the jaded senses of the reader is this enchanted domainof wonder-pieces! What an atmosphere of beauty, music, color! Whatresources of imagination, construction, analysis and absolute art! Onemight almost sympathize with Sarah Helen Whitman, who, confessing toa half faith in the old superstition of the significance of anagrams, found, in the transposed letters of Edgar Poe's name, the words "aGod-peer. " His mind, she says, was indeed a "Haunted Palace, " echoing tothe footfalls of angels and demons. 

"No man, " Poe himself wrote, "has recorded, no man has dared to record, the wonders of his inner life. "

In these twentieth century days--of lavish recognition--artistic, popular and material--of genius, what rewards might not a Poe claim!

Edgar's father, a son of General David Poe, the American revolutionarypatriot and friend of Lafayette, had married Mrs. Hopkins, an Englishactress, and, the match meeting with parental disapproval, had himselftaken to the stage as a profession. Notwithstanding Mrs. Poe's beautyand talent the young couple had a sorry struggle for existence. WhenEdgar, at the age of two years, was orphaned, the family was in theutmost destitution. Apparently the future poet was to be cast upon theworld homeless and friendless. But fate decreed that a few glimmers ofsunshine were to illumine his life, for the little fellow was adoptedby John Allan, a wealthy merchant of Richmond, Va. A brother and sister, the remaining children, were cared for by others. 

In his new home Edgar found all the luxury and advantages money couldprovide. He was petted, spoiled and shown off to strangers. In Mrs. Allan he found all the affection a childless wife could bestow. Mr. Allan took much pride in the captivating, precocious lad. At the age offive the boy recited, with fine effect, passages of English poetry tothe visitors at the Allan house. 

From his eighth to his thirteenth year he attended the Manor Houseschool, at Stoke-Newington, a suburb of London. It was the Rev. Dr. Bransby, head of the school, whom Poe so quaintly portrayed in "WilliamWilson. " Returning to Richmond in 1820 Edgar was sent to the schoolof Professor Joseph H. Clarke. He proved an apt pupil. Years afterwardProfessor Clarke thus wrote:

"While the other boys wrote mere mechanical verses, Poe wrote genuinepoetry; the boy was a born poet. As a scholar he was ambitious toexcel. He was remarkable for self-respect, without haughtiness. He hada sensitive and tender heart and would do anything for a friend. Hisnature was entirely free from selfishness. "

At the age of seventeen Poe entered the University of Virginia atCharlottesville. He left that institution after one session. Officialrecords prove that he was not expelled. On the contrary, he gaineda creditable record as a student, although it is admitted that hecontracted debts and had "an ungovernable passion for card-playing. "These debts may have led to his quarrel with Mr. Allan which eventuallycompelled him to make his own way in the world. 

Early in 1827 Poe made his first literary venture. He induced CalvinThomas, a poor and youthful printer, to publish a small volume of hisverses under the title "Tamerlane and Other Poems. " In 1829 we find Poein Baltimore with another manuscript volume of verses, which was soonpublished. Its title was "Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane and Other Poems. " Neitherof these ventures seems to have attracted much attention. 

Soon after Mrs. Allan's death, which occurred in 1829, Poe, throughthe aid of Mr. Allan, secured admission to the United States MilitaryAcademy at West Point. Any glamour which may have attached to cadet lifein Poe's eyes was speedily lost, for discipline at West Point was neverso severe nor were the accommodations ever so poor. Poe's bent wasmore and more toward literature. Life at the academy daily becameincreasingly distasteful. Soon he began to purposely neglect his studiesand to disregard his duties, his aim being to secure his dismissal fromthe United States service. In this he succeeded. On March 7, 1831, Poefound himself free. Mr. Allan's second marriage had thrown the lad onhis own resources. His literary career was to begin. 

Poe's first genuine victory was won in 1833, when he was the successfulcompetitor for a prize of $100 offered by a Baltimore periodical for thebest prose story. "A MSS. Found in a Bottle" was the winning tale. Poehad submitted six stories in a volume. "Our only difficulty, " says Mr. Latrobe, one of the judges, "was in selecting from the rich contents ofthe volume. "

During the fifteen years of his literary life Poe was connected withvarious newspapers and magazines in Richmond, Philadelphia and New York. He was faithful, punctual, industrious, thorough. N. P. Willis, who forsome time employed Poe as critic and sub-editor on the "Evening Mirror, "wrote thus:

"With the highest admiration for Poe's genius, and a willingness tolet it alone for more than ordinary irregularity, we were led bycommon report to expect a very capricious attention to his duties, andoccasionally a scene of violence and difficulty. Time went on, however, and he was invariably punctual and industrious. We saw butone presentiment of the man-a quiet, patient, industrious and mostgentlemanly person. 

"We heard, from one who knew him well (what should be stated in allmention of his lamentable irregularities), that with a single glass ofwine his whole nature was reversed, the demon became uppermost, and, though none of the usual signs of intoxication were visible, his willwas palpably insane. In this reversed character, we repeat, it was neverour chance to meet him. "

On September 22, 1835, Poe married his cousin, Virginia Clemm, inBaltimore. She had barely turned thirteen years, Poe himself was buttwenty-six. He then was a resident of Richmond and a regular contributorto the "Southern Literary Messenger. " It was not until a year later thatthe bride and her widowed mother followed him thither. 

Poe's devotion to his child-wife was one of the most beautiful featuresof his life. Many of his famous poetic productions were inspired by herbeauty and charm. Consumption had marked her for its victim, and theconstant efforts of husband and mother were to secure for her all thecomfort and happiness their slender means permitted. Virginia diedJanuary 30, 1847, when but twenty-five years of age. A friend of thefamily pictures the death-bed scene--mother and husband trying to impartwarmth to her by chafing her hands and her feet, while her pet cat wassuffered to nestle upon her bosom for the sake of added warmth. 

These verses from "Annabel Lee, " written by Poe in 1849, the last yearof his life, tell of his sorrow at the loss of his child-wife:

 I was a child and _she_ was a child, In a kingdom by the sea;

 But we loved with _a _love that was more than love-- I and my Annabel Lee;

 With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago; In this kingdom by the sea. A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee;

 So that her high-born kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea, Poe was connected at various times and in various capacities with the"Southern Literary Messenger" in Richmond, Va. ; "Graham's Magazine" andthe "Gentleman's Magazine" in Philadelphia. ; the "Evening Mirror, " the"Broadway journal, " and "Godey's Lady's Book" in New York. EverywherePoe's life was one of unremitting toil. No tales and poems were everproduced at a greater cost of brain and spirit. 

Poe's initial salary with the "Southern Literary Messenger, " to whichhe contributed the first drafts of a number of his best-known tales, was $10 a week! Two years later his salary was but $600 a year. Even in1844, when his literary reputation was established securely, he wrote toa friend expressing his pleasure because a magazine to which he was tocontribute had agreed to pay him $20 monthly for two pages of criticism. 

Those were discouraging times in American literature, but Poe neverlost faith. He was finally to triumph wherever pre-eminent talents winadmirers. His genius has had no better description than in this stanzafrom William Winter's poem, read at the dedication exercises of theActors' Monument to Poe, May 4, 1885, in New York:

 He was the voice of beauty and of woe, Passion and mystery and the dread unknown; Pure as the mountains of perpetual snow, Cold as the icy winds that round them moan, Dark as the eaves wherein earth's thunders groan, Wild as the tempests of the upper sky, Sweet as the faint, far-off celestial tone of angel whispers, fluttering from on high, And tender as love's tear when youth and beauty die. 

In the two and a half score years that have elapsed since Poe's deathhe has come fully into his own. For a while Griswold's malignantmisrepresentations colored the public estimate of Poe as man and aswriter. But, thanks to J. H. Ingram, W. F. Gill, Eugene Didier, SarahHelen Whitman and others these scandals have been dispelled and Poe isseen as he actually was-not as a man without failings, it is true, butas the finest and most original genius in American letters. As theyears go on his fame increases. His works have been translated intomany foreign languages. His is a household name in France and England-infact, the latter nation has often uttered the reproach that Poe's owncountry has been slow to appreciate him. But that reproach, if it everwas warranted, certainly is untrue. 

 W. H. R. 

EDGAR ALLAN POE

By James Russell Lowell

THE situation of American literature is anomalous. It has no centre, or, if it have, it is like that of the sphere of Hermes. It is, dividedinto many systems, each revolving round its several suns, and oftenpresenting to the rest only the faint glimmer of a milk-and-water way. Our capital city, unlike London or Paris, is not a great central heartfrom which life and vigor radiate to the extremities, but resembles morean isolated umbilicus stuck down as near a's may be to the centre of theland, and seeming rather to tell a legend of former usefulness than toserve any present need. Boston, New York, Philadelphia, each has itsliterature almost more distinct than those of the different dialectsof Germany; and the Young Queen of the West has also one of her own, of which some articulate rumor barely has reached us dwellers by theAtlantic. 

Perhaps there is no task more difficult than the just criticism ofcontemporary literature. It is even more grateful to give praise whereit is needed than where it is deserved, and friendship so often seducesthe iron stylus of justice into a vague flourish, that she writes whatseems rather like an epitaph than a criticism. Yet if praise be givenas an alms, we could not drop so poisonous a one into any man's hat. Thecritic's ink may suffer equally from too large an infusion of nutgallsor of sugar. But it is easier to be generous than to be just, and wemight readily put faith in that fabulous direction to the hiding placeof truth, did we judge from the amount of water which we usually findmixed with it. 

Remarkable experiences are usually confined to the inner life ofimaginative men, but Mr. Poe's biography displays a vicissitude andpeculiarity of interest such as is rarely met with. The offspring of aromantic marriage, and left an orphan at an early age, he was adoptedby Mr. Allan, a wealthy Virginian, whose barren marriage-bed seemed thewarranty of a large estate to the young poet. 

Having received a classical education in England, he returned home andentered the University of Virginia, where, after an extravagant course, followed by reformation at the last extremity, he was graduated withthe highest honors of his class. Then came a boyish attempt to join thefortunes of the insurgent Greeks, which ended at St. Petersburg, wherehe got into difficulties through want of a passport, from which hewas rescued by the American consul and sent home. He now entered themilitary academy at West Point, from which he obtained a dismissalon hearing of the birth of a son to his adopted father, by a secondmarriage, an event which cut off his expectations as an heir. The deathof Mr. Allan, in whose will his name was not mentioned, soon afterrelieved him of all doubt in this regard, and he committed himself atonce to authorship for a support. Previously to this, however, he hadpublished (in 1827) a small volume of poems, which soon ran throughthree editions, and excited high expectations of its author's futuredistinction in the minds of many competent judges. 

That no certain augury can be drawn from a poet's earliest lispingsthere are instances enough to prove. Shakespeare's first poems, thoughbrimful of vigor and youth and picturesqueness, give but a very faintpromise of the directness, condensation and overflowing moral of hismaturer works. Perhaps, however, Shakespeare is hardly a case inpoint, his "Venus and Adonis" having been published, we believe, in histwenty-sixth year. Milton's Latin verses show tenderness, a fine eye fornature, and a delicate appreciation of classic models, but give no hintof the author of a new style in poetry. Pope's youthful pieces haveall the sing-song, wholly unrelieved by the glittering malignityand eloquent irreligion of his later productions. Collins' callownamby-pamby died and gave no sign of the vigorous and original geniuswhich he afterward displayed. We have never thought that the world lostmore in the "marvellous boy, " Chatterton, than a very ingenious imitatorof obscure and antiquated dulness. Where he becomes original (as it iscalled), the interest of ingenuity ceases and he becomes stupid. KirkeWhite's promises were indorsed by the respectable name of Mr. Southey, but surely with no authority from Apollo. They have the merit of atraditional piety, which to our mind, if uttered at all, had been lessobjectionable in the retired closet of a diary, and in the sober raimentof prose. They do not clutch hold of the memory with the drowningpertinacity of Watts; neither have they the interest of his occasionalsimple, lucky beauty. Burns having fortunately been rescued by hishumble station from the contaminating society of the "Best models, "wrote well and naturally from the first. Had he been unfortunate enoughto have had an educated taste, we should have had a series of poems fromwhich, as from his letters, we could sift here and there a kernel fromthe mass of chaff. Coleridge's youthful efforts give no promise whateverof that poetical genius which produced at once the wildest, tenderest, most original and most purely imaginative poems of modern times. Byron's"Hours of Idleness" would never find a reader except from an intrepidand indefatigable curiosity. In Wordsworth's first preludings thereis but a dim foreboding of the creator of an era. From Southey's earlypoems, a safer augury might have been drawn. They show the patientinvestigator, the close student of history, and the unwearied explorerof the beauties of predecessors, but they give no assurances of a manwho should add aught to stock of household words, or to the rarerand more sacred delights of the fireside or the arbor. The earliestspecimens of Shelley's poetic mind already, also, give tokens of thatethereal sublimation in which the spirit seems to soar above the regionsof words, but leaves its body, the verse, to be entombed, without hopeof resurrection, in a mass of them. Cowley is generally instanced as awonder of precocity. But his early insipidities show only a capacityfor rhyming and for the metrical arrangement of certain conventionalcombinations of words, a capacity wholly dependent on a delicatephysical organization, and an unhappy memory. An early poem is onlyremarkable when it displays an effort of _reason, _and the rudest versesin which we can trace some conception of the ends of poetry, are worthall the miracles of smooth juvenile versification. A school-boy, onewould say, might acquire the regular see-saw of Pope merely by anassociation with the motion of the play-ground tilt. 

Mr. Poe's early productions show that he could see through the verse tothe spirit beneath, and that he already had a feeling that all the lifeand grace of the one must depend on and be modulated by the will of theother. We call them the most remarkable boyish poems that we haveever read. We know of none that can compare with them for maturity ofpurpose, and a nice understanding of the effects of language and metre. Such pieces are only valuable when they display what we can only expressby the contradictory phrase of _innate experience. _We copy one of theshorter poems, written when the author was only fourteen. There is alittle dimness in the filling up, but the grace and symmetry of theoutline are such as few poets ever attain. There is a smack of ambrosiaabout it. 

 TO HELEN

 Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. 

 On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome. 

 Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand! The agate lamp within thy hand, Ah! Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land!

It is the tendency of the young poet that impresses us. Here is no"withering scorn, " no heart "blighted" ere it has safely got into itsteens, none of the drawing-room sansculottism which Byron had broughtinto vogue. All is limpid and serene, with a pleasant dash of the GreekHelicon in it. The melody of the whole, too, is remarkable. It is not ofthat kind which can be demonstrated arithmetically upon the tips ofthe fingers. It is of that finer sort which the inner ear alone_can _estimate. It seems simple, like a Greek column, because of itsperfection. In a poem named "Ligeia, " under which title he intendedto personify the music of nature, our boy-poet gives us the followingexquisite picture:

 Ligeia! Ligeia! My beautiful one, Whose harshest idea Will to melody run, Say, is it thy will, On the breezes to toss, Or, capriciously still, Like the lone albatross, Incumbent on night, As she on the air, To keep watch with delight On the harmony there?

John Neal, himself a man of genius, and whose lyre has been too longcapriciously silent, appreciated the high merit of these and similarpassages, and drew a proud horoscope for their author. 

Mr. Poe had that indescribable something which men have agreed to call_genius_. No man could ever tell us precisely what it is, and yet thereis none who is not inevitably aware of its presence and its power. Lettalent writhe and contort itself as it may, it has no such magnetism. Larger of bone and sinew it may be, but the wings are wanting. Talentsticks fast to earth, and its most perfect works have still one foot ofclay. Genius claims kindred with the very workings of Nature herself, sothat a sunset shall seem like a quotation from Dante, and if Shakespearebe read in the very presence of the sea itself, his verses shall butseem nobler for the sublime criticism of ocean. Talent may make friendsfor itself, but only genius can give to its creations the divine powerof winning love and veneration. Enthusiasm cannot cling to what itselfis unenthusiastic, nor will he ever have disciples who has not himselfimpulsive zeal enough to be a disciple. Great wits are allied to madnessonly inasmuch as they are possessed and carried away by their demon, While talent keeps him, as Paracelsus did, securely prisoned in thepommel of his sword. To the eye of genius, the veil of the spiritualworld is ever rent asunder that it may perceive the ministers of goodand evil who throng continually around it. No man of mere talent everflung his inkstand at the devil. 

When we say that Mr. Poe had genius, we do not mean to say that he hasproduced evidence of the highest. But to say that he possesses it atall is to say that he needs only zeal, industry, and a reverence for thetrust reposed in him, to achieve the proudest triumphs and the greenestlaurels. If we may believe the Longinuses; and Aristotles of ournewspapers, we have quite too many geniuses of the loftiest order torender a place among them at all desirable, whether for its hardnessof attainment or its seclusion. The highest peak of our Parnassus is, according to these gentlemen, by far the most thickly settled portionof the country, a circumstance which must make it an uncomfortableresidence for individuals of a poetical temperament, if love ofsolitude be, as immemorial tradition asserts, a necessary part of theiridiosyncrasy. 

Mr. Poe has two of the prime qualities of genius, a faculty of vigorousyet minute analysis, and a wonderful fecundity of imagination. The firstof these faculties is as needful to the artist in words, as a knowledgeof anatomy is to the artist in colors or in stone. This enables him toconceive truly, to maintain a proper relation of parts, and to draw acorrect outline, while the second groups, fills up and colors. Bothof these Mr. Poe has displayed with singular distinctness in his proseworks, the last predominating in his earlier tales, and the first in hislater ones. In judging of the merit of an author, and assigning him hisniche among our household gods, we have a right to regard him fromour own point of view, and to measure him by our own standard. But, in estimating the amount of power displayed in his works, we must begoverned by his own design, and placing them by the side of his ownideal, find how much is wanting. We differ from Mr. Poe in his opinionsof the objects of art. He esteems that object to be the creation ofBeauty, and perhaps it is only in the definition of that word that wedisagree with him. But in what we shall say of his writings, we shalltake his own standard as our guide. The temple of the god of song isequally accessible from every side, and there is room enough in it forall who bring offerings, or seek in oracle. 

In his tales, Mr. Poe has chosen to exhibit his power chiefly in thatdim region which stretches from the very utmost limits of the probableinto the weird confines of superstition and unreality. He combines ina very remarkable manner two faculties which are seldom found united; apower of influencing the mind of the reader by the impalpable shadowsof mystery, and a minuteness of detail which does not leave a pin ora button unnoticed. Both are, in truth, the natural results of thepredominating quality of his mind, to which we have before alluded, analysis. It is this which distinguishes the artist. His mind at oncereaches forward to the effect to be produced. Having resolved to bringabout certain emotions in the reader, he makes all subordinate partstend strictly to the common centre. Even his mystery is mathematicalto his own mind. To him X is a known quantity all along. In any picturethat he paints he understands the chemical properties of all hiscolors. However vague some of his figures may seem, however formlessthe shadows, to him the outline is as clear and distinct as that ofa geometrical diagram. For this reason Mr. Poe has no sympathy withMysticism. The Mystic dwells in the mystery, is enveloped with it; itcolors all his thoughts; it affects his optic nerve especially, and thecommonest things get a rainbow edging from it. Mr. Poe, on the otherhand, is a spectator _ab extra_. He analyzes, he dissects, he watches

 "with an eye serene, The very pulse of the machine, "

for such it practically is to him, with wheels and cogs and piston-rods, all working to produce a certain end. 

This analyzing tendency of his mind balances the poetical, and by givinghim the patience to be minute, enables him to throw a wonderful realityinto his most unreal fancies. A monomania he paints with great power. Heloves to dissect one of these cancers of the mind, and to trace all thesubtle ramifications of its roots. In raising images of horror, also, he has strange success, conveying to us sometimes by a dusky hintsome terrible _doubt _which is the secret of all horror. He leaves toimagination the task of finishing the picture, a task to which only sheis competent. 

 "For much imaginary work was there; Conceit deceitful, so compact, so kind, That for Achilles' image stood his spear Grasped in an armed hand; himself behind Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind. "

Besides the merit of conception, Mr. Poe's writings have also that ofform. 

His style is highly finished, graceful and truly classical. It would behard to find a living author who had displayed such varied powers. As anexample of his style we would refer to one of his tales, "The Houseof Usher, " in the first volume of his "Tales of the Grotesque andArabesque. " It has a singular charm for us, and we think that no onecould read it without being strongly moved by its serene and sombrebeauty. Had its author written nothing else, it would alone have beenenough to stamp him as a man of genius, and the master of a classicstyle. In this tale occurs, perhaps, the most beautiful of his poems. 

The great masters of imagination have seldom resorted to the vague andthe unreal as sources of effect. They have not used dread and horroralone, but only in combination with other qualities, as means ofsubjugating the fancies of their readers. The loftiest muse has ever ahousehold and fireside charm about her. Mr. Poe's secret lies mainly inthe skill with which he has employed the strange fascination of mysteryand terror. In this his success is so great and striking as to deservethe name of art, not artifice. We cannot call his materials the noblestor purest, but we must concede to him the highest merit of construction. 

As a critic, Mr. Poe was aesthetically deficient. Unerring in hisanalysis of dictions, metres and plots, he seemed wanting in the facultyof perceiving the profounder ethics of art. His criticisms are, however, distinguished for scientific precision and coherence of logic. Theyhave the exactness, and at the same time, the coldness of mathematicaldemonstrations. Yet they stand in strikingly refreshing contrast withthe vague generalisms and sharp personalities of the day. If deficientin warmth, they are also without the heat of partisanship. They areespecially valuable as illustrating the great truth, too generallyoverlooked, that analytic power is a subordinate quality of the critic. 

On the whole, it may be considered certain that Mr. Poe has attained anindividual eminence in our literature which he will keep. He has givenproof of power and originality. He has done that which could only bedone once with success or safety, and the imitation or repetition ofwhich would produce weariness. 

DEATH OF EDGAR A. POE

By N. P. Willis

THE ancient fable of two antagonistic spirits imprisoned in one body, equally powerful and having the complete mastery by turns-of one man, that is to say, inhabited by both a devil and an angel seems tohave been realized, if all we hear is true, in the character of theextraordinary man whose name we have written above. Our own impressionof the nature of Edgar A. Poe, differs in some important degree, however, from that which has been generally conveyed in the notices ofhis death. Let us, before telling what we personally know of him, copya graphic and highly finished portraiture, from the pen of Dr. Rufus W. Griswold, which appeared in a recent number of the "Tribune":

"Edgar Allen Poe is dead. He died in Baltimore on Sunday, October 7th. This announcement will startle many, but few will be grieved by it. Thepoet was known, personally or by reputation, in all this country; he hadreaders in England and in several of the states of Continental Europe;but he had few or no friends; and the regrets for his death will besuggested principally by the consideration that in him literary art haslost one of its most brilliant but erratic stars. 

"His conversation was at times almost supramortal in its eloquence. Hisvoice was modulated with astonishing skill, and his large and variablyexpressive eyes looked repose or shot fiery tumult into theirs wholistened, while his own face glowed, or was changeless in pallor, as hisimagination quickened his blood or drew it back frozen to his heart. Hisimagery was from the worlds which no mortals can see but with the visionof genius. Suddenly starting from a proposition, exactly and sharplydefined, in terms of utmost simplicity and clearness, he rejected theforms of customary logic, and by a crystalline process of accretion, built up his ocular demonstrations in forms of gloomiest and ghastliestgrandeur, or in those of the most airy and delicious beauty, so minutelyand distinctly, yet so rapidly, that the attention which was yieldedto him was chained till it stood among his wonderful creations, till hehimself dissolved the spell, and brought his hearers back to commonand base existence, by vulgar fancies or exhibitions of the ignoblestpassion. 

"He was at all times a dreamer-dwelling in ideal realms-in heaven orhell-peopled with the creatures and the accidents of his brain. Hewalked-the streets, in madness or melancholy, with lips moving inindistinct curses, or with eyes upturned in passionate prayer (never forhimself, for he felt, or professed to feel, that he was already damned, but) for their happiness who at the moment were objects of his idolatry;or with his glances introverted to a heart gnawed with anguish, and witha face shrouded in gloom, he would brave the wildest storms, and allnight, with drenched garments and arms beating the winds and rains, would speak as if the spirits that at such times only could be evoked byhim from the Aidenn, close by whose portals his disturbed soul sought toforget the ills to which his constitution subjected him---close by theAidenn where were those he loved-the Aidenn which he might never see, but in fitful glimpses, as its gates opened to receive the less fieryand more happy natures whose destiny to sin did not involve the doom ofdeath. 

"He seemed, except when some fitful pursuit subjugated his will andengrossed his faculties, always to bear the memory of some controllingsorrow. The remarkable poem of 'The Raven' was probably much more nearlythan has been supposed, even by those who were very intimate with him, areflection and an echo of his own history. _He_ was that bird's

 "'Unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-- Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never-never more. '

"Every genuine author in a greater or less degree leaves in his works, whatever their design, traces of his personal character: elements of hisimmortal being, in which the individual survives the person. While weread the pages of the 'Fall of the House of Usher, ' or of 'MesmericRevelations, ' we see in the solemn and stately gloom which invests one, and in the subtle metaphysical analysis of both, indications of theidiosyncrasies of what was most remarkable and peculiar in the author'sintellectual nature. But we see here only the better phases of hisnature, only the symbols of his juster action, for his harsh experiencehad deprived him of all faith in man or woman. He had made up his mindupon the numberless complexities of the social world, and the wholesystem with him was an imposture. This conviction gave a direction tohis shrewd and naturally unamiable character. Still, though he regardedsociety as composed altogether of villains, the sharpness of hisintellect was not of that kind which enabled him to cope with villany, while it continually caused him by overshots to fail of the success ofhonesty. He was in many respects like Francis Vivian in Bulwer's novelof 'The Caxtons. ' Passion, in him, comprehended--many of the worstemotions which militate against human happiness. You could notcontradict him, but you raised quick choler; you could not speak ofwealth, but his cheek paled with gnawing envy. The astonishing naturaladvantages of this poor boy--his beauty, his readiness, the daringspirit that breathed around him like a fiery atmosphere--had raised hisconstitutional self-confidence into an arrogance that turned hisvery claims to admiration into prejudices against him. Irascible, envious--bad enough, but not the worst, for these salient angles wereall varnished over with a cold, repellant cynicism, his passions ventedthemselves in sneers. There seemed to him no moral susceptibility; and, what was more remarkable in a proud nature, little or nothing of thetrue point of honor. He had, to a morbid excess, that, desire to risewhich is vulgarly called ambition, but no wish for the esteem or thelove of his species; only the hard wish to succeed-not shine, notserve--succeed, that he might have the right to despise a world whichgalled his self-conceit. 

"We have suggested the influence of his aims and vicissitudes upon hisliterature. It was more conspicuous in his later than in hisearlier writings. Nearly all that he wrote in the last two or threeyears-including much of his best poetry-was in some sense biographical;in draperies of his imagination, those who had taken the trouble totrace his steps, could perceive, but slightly concealed, the figure ofhimself. "

Apropos of the disparaging portion of the above well-written sketch, letus truthfully say:

Some four or five years since, when editing a daily paper in thiscity, Mr. Poe was employed by us, for several months, as critic andsub-editor. This was our first personal acquaintance with him. Heresided with his wife and mother at Fordham, a few miles out of town, but was at his desk in the office, from nine in the morning till theevening paper went to press. With the highest admiration for his genius, and a willingness to let it atone for more than ordinary irregularity, we were led by common report to expect a very capricious attention tohis duties, and occasionally a scene of violence and difficulty. Timewent on, however, and he was invariably punctual and industrious. Withhis pale, beautiful, and intellectual face, as a reminder of what geniuswas in him, it was impossible, of course, not to treat him always withdeferential courtesy, and, to our occasional request that he would notprobe too deep in a criticism, or that he would erase a passage coloredtoo highly with his resentments against society and mankind, he readilyand courteously assented-far more yielding than most men, we thought, on points so excusably sensitive. With a prospect of taking the lead inanother periodical, he, at last, voluntarily gave up his employmentwith us, and, through all this considerable period, we had seen butone presentment of the man-a quiet, patient, industrious, and mostgentlemanly person, commanding the utmost respect and good feeling byhis unvarying deportment and ability. 

Residing as he did in the country, we never met Mr. Poe in hours ofleisure; but he frequently called on us afterward at our place ofbusiness, and we met him often in the street-invariably the same sadmannered, winning and refined gentleman, such as we had always knownhim. It was by rumor only, up to the day of his death, that we knew ofany other development of manner or character. We heard, from one whoknew him well (what should be stated in all mention of his lamentableirregularities), that, with a single glass of wine, his whole naturewas reversed, the demon became uppermost, and, though none of theusual signs of intoxication were visible, his will was palpably insane. Possessing his reasoning faculties in excited activity, at such times, and seeking his acquaintances with his wonted look and memory, he easilyseemed personating only another phase of his natural character, and wasaccused, accordingly, of insulting arrogance and bad-heartedness. Inthis reversed character, we repeat, it was never our chance to see him. We know it from hearsay, and we mention it in connection with this sadinfirmity of physical constitution; which puts it upon very nearly theground of a temporary and almost irresponsible insanity. 

The arrogance, vanity, and depravity of heart, of which Mr. Poe wasgenerally accused, seem to us referable altogether to this reversedphase of his character. Under that degree of intoxication which onlyacted upon him by demonizing his sense of truth and right, he doubtlesssaid and did much that was wholly irreconcilable with his better nature;but, when himself, and as we knew him only, his modesty and unaffectedhumility, as to his own deservings, were a constant charm to hischaracter. His letters, of which the constant application for autographshas taken from us, we are sorry to confess, the greater portion, exhibited this quality very strongly. In one of the carelessly writtennotes of which we chance still to retain possession, for instance, hespeaks of "The Raven"--that extraordinary poem which electrified theworld of imaginative readers, and has become the type of a school ofpoetry of its own-and, in evident earnest, attributes its success tothe few words of commendation with which we had prefaced it in thispaper. --It will throw light on his sane character to give a literal copyof the note:

 "FORDHAM, April 20, 1849

"My DEAR WILLIS--The poem which I inclose, and which I am so vain as tohope you will like, in some respects, has been just published in a paperfor which sheer necessity compels me to write, now and then. It payswell as times go-but unquestionably it ought to pay ten prices; forwhatever I send it I feel I am consigning to the tomb of the Capulets. The verses accompanying this, may I beg you to take out of the tomb, andbring them to light in the 'Home journal?' If you can oblige me so faras to copy them, I do not think it will be necessary to say 'From the----, that would be too bad; and, perhaps, 'From a late ---- paper, 'would do. 

"I have not forgotten how a 'good word in season' from you made 'TheRaven, ' and made 'Ulalume' (which by-the-way, people have done me thehonor of attributing to you), therefore, I would ask you (if I dared) tosay something of these lines if they please you. 

 "Truly yours ever, "EDGAR A. POE. "

In double proof of his earnest disposition to do the best for himself, and of the trustful and grateful nature which has been denied him, wegive another of the only three of his notes which we chance to retain:

 "FORDHAM, January 22, 1848. 

"My DEAR MR. WILLIS--I am about to make an effort at re-establishingmyself in the literary world, and _feel _that I may depend upon youraid. 

"My general aim is to start a Magazine, to be called 'The Stylus, ' butit would be useless to me, even when established, if not entirely out ofthe control of a publisher. I mean, therefore, to get up a journal whichshall be _my own_ at all points. With this end in view, I must get alist of at least five hundred subscribers to begin with; nearly twohundred I have already. I propose, however, to go South and West, among my personal and literary friends--old college and West Pointacquaintances--and see what I can do. In order to get the means oftaking the first step, I propose to lecture at the Society Library, on Thursday, the 3d of February, and, that there may be no cause of_squabbling_, my subject shall _not be literary _at all. I have chosen abroad text: 'The Universe. '

"Having thus given you _the facts_ of the case, I leave all the restto the suggestions of your own tact and generosity. Gratefully, _mostgratefully, _

 _"Your friend always, _

 _"EDGAR A. POE. _"

Brief and chance-taken as these letters are, we think they sufficientlyprove the existence of the very qualities denied to Mr. Poe-humility, willingness to persevere, belief in another's friendship, and capabilityof cordial and grateful friendship! Such he assuredly was when sane. Such only he has invariably seemed to us, in all we have happenedpersonally to know of him, through a friendship of five or six years. And so much easier is it to believe what we have seen and known, thanwhat we hear of only, that we remember him but with admiration andrespect; these descriptions of him, when morally insane, seeming tous like portraits, painted in sickness, of a man we have only known inhealth. 

But there is another, more touching, and far more forcible evidence thatthere was _goodness _in Edgar A. Poe. To reveal it we are obliged toventure upon the lifting of the veil which sacredly covers grief andrefinement in poverty; but we think it may be excused, if so we canbrighten the memory of the poet, even were there not a more needed andimmediate service which it may render to the nearest link broken by hisdeath. 

Our first knowledge of Mr. Poe's removal to this city was by a callwhich we received from a lady who introduced herself to us as the motherof his wife. She was in search of employment for him, and she excusedher errand by mentioning that he was ill, that her daughter was aconfirmed invalid, and that their circumstances were such as compelledher taking it upon herself. The countenance of this lady, made beautifuland saintly with an evidently complete giving up of her life toprivation and sorrowful tenderness, her gentle and mournful voice urgingits plea, her long-forgotten but habitually and unconsciously refinedmanners, and her appealing and yet appreciative mention of the claimsand abilities of her son, disclosed at once the presence of one of thoseangels upon earth that women in adversity can be. It was a hard fatethat she was watching over. Mr. Poe wrote with fastidious difficulty, and in a style too much above the popular level to be well paid. He wasalways in pecuniary difficulty, and, with his sick wife, frequently inwant of the merest necessaries of life. Winter after winter, foryears, the most touching sight to us, in this whole city, has been thattireless minister to genius, thinly and insufficiently clad, going fromoffice to office with a poem, or an article on some literary subject, tosell, sometimes simply pleading in a broken voice that he was ill, andbegging for him, mentioning nothing but that "he was ill, " whatevermight be the reason for his writing nothing, and never, amid all hertears and recitals of distress, suffering one syllable to escape herlips that could convey a doubt of him, or a complaint, or a lessening ofpride in his genius and good intentions. Her daughter died a year anda half since, but she did not desert him. She continued his ministeringangel--living with him, caring for him, guarding him against exposure, and when he was carried away by temptation, amid grief and theloneliness of feelings unreplied to, and awoke from his self abandonmentprostrated in destitution and suffering, _begging _for him still. Ifwoman's devotion, born with a first love, and fed with human passion, hallow its object, as it is allowed to do, what does not a devotionlike this-pure, disinterested and holy as the watch of an invisiblespirit-say for him who inspired it?

We have a letter before us, written by this lady, Mrs. Clemm, on themorning in which she heard of the death of this object of her untiringcare. It is merely a request that we would call upon her, but we willcopy a few of its words--sacred as its privacy is--to warrant the truthof the picture we have drawn above, and add force to the appeal we wishto make for her:

"I have this morning heard of the death of my darling Eddie. .. . Can yougive me any circumstances or particulars?. .. Oh! do not desert yourpoor friend in his bitter affliction!. .. Ask Mr. ---- to come, as I mustdeliver a message to him from my poor Eddie. .. . I need not ask you tonotice his death and to speak well of him. I know you will. But say whatan affectionate son he was to me, his poor desolate mother. .. "

To hedge round a grave with respect, what choice is there, between therelinquished wealth and honors of the world, and the story of such awoman's unrewarded devotion! Risking what we do, in delicacy, by makingit public, we feel--other reasons aside--that it betters the world tomake known that there are such ministrations to its erring and gifted. What we have said will speak to some hearts. There are those who willbe glad to know how the lamp, whose light of poetry has beamed on theirfar-away recognition, was watched over with care and pain, that theymay send to her, who is more darkened than they by its extinction, sometoken of their sympathy. She is destitute and alone. If any, far ornear, will send to us what may aid and cheer her through the remainderof her life, we will joyfully place it in her bands. 

THE UNPARALLELED ADVENTURES OF ONE HANS PFAAL (*1)

BY late accounts from Rotterdam, that city seems to be in a high stateof philosophical excitement. Indeed, phenomena have there occurred ofa nature so completely unexpected--so entirely novel--so utterly atvariance with preconceived opinions--as to leave no doubt on my mindthat long ere this all Europe is in an uproar, all physics in a ferment, all reason and astronomy together by the ears. 

It appears that on the---- day of---- (I am not positive about thedate), a vast crowd of people, for purposes not specificallymentioned, were assembled in the great square of the Exchange in thewell-conditioned city of Rotterdam. The day was warm--unusually so forthe season--there was hardly a breath of air stirring; and the multitudewere in no bad humor at being now and then besprinkled with friendlyshowers of momentary duration, that fell from large white massesof cloud which chequered in a fitful manner the blue vault of thefirmament. Nevertheless, about noon, a slight but remarkable agitationbecame apparent in the assembly: the clattering of ten thousand tonguessucceeded; and, in an instant afterward, ten thousand faces wereupturned toward the heavens, ten thousand pipes descended simultaneouslyfrom the corners of ten thousand mouths, and a shout, which could becompared to nothing but the roaring of Niagara, resounded long, loudly, and furiously, through all the environs of Rotterdam. 

The origin of this hubbub soon became sufficiently evident. From behindthe huge bulk of one of those sharply-defined masses of cloud alreadymentioned, was seen slowly to emerge into an open area of blue space, aqueer, heterogeneous, but apparently solid substance, so oddly shaped, so whimsically put together, as not to be in any manner comprehended, and never to be sufficiently admired, by the host of sturdy burghers whostood open-mouthed below. What could it be? In the name of all the vrowsand devils in Rotterdam, what could it possibly portend? No one knew, noone could imagine; no one--not even the burgomaster Mynheer Superbus VonUnderduk--had the slightest clew by which to unravel the mystery; so, asnothing more reasonable could be done, every one to a man replaced hispipe carefully in the corner of his mouth, and cocking up his righteye towards the phenomenon, puffed, paused, waddled about, and gruntedsignificantly--then waddled back, grunted, paused, and finally--puffedagain. 

In the meantime, however, lower and still lower toward the goodly city, came the object of so much curiosity, and the cause of so much smoke. Ina very few minutes it arrived near enough to be accurately discerned. Itappeared to be--yes! it was undoubtedly a species of balloon; but surelyno such balloon had ever been seen in Rotterdam before. For who, let meask, ever heard of a balloon manufactured entirely of dirty newspapers?No man in Holland certainly; yet here, under the very noses of thepeople, or rather at some distance above their noses was the identicalthing in question, and composed, I have it on the best authority, ofthe precise material which no one had ever before known to be used fora similar purpose. It was an egregious insult to the good sense of theburghers of Rotterdam. As to the shape of the phenomenon, it was evenstill more reprehensible. Being little or nothing better than a hugefoolscap turned upside down. And this similitude was regarded as by nomeans lessened when, upon nearer inspection, there was perceived a largetassel depending from its apex, and, around the upper rim or base of thecone, a circle of little instruments, resembling sheep-bells, which keptup a continual tinkling to the tune of Betty Martin. But still worse. Suspended by blue ribbons to the end of this fantastic machine, there hung, by way of car, an enormous drab beaver hat, with a brimsuperlatively broad, and a hemispherical crown with a black band and asilver buckle. It is, however, somewhat remarkable that many citizensof Rotterdam swore to having seen the same hat repeatedly before; andindeed the whole assembly seemed to regard it with eyes of familiarity;while the vrow Grettel Pfaall, upon sight of it, uttered an exclamationof joyful surprise, and declared it to be the identical hat of her goodman himself. Now this was a circumstance the more to be observed, asPfaall, with three companions, had actually disappeared from Rotterdamabout five years before, in a very sudden and unaccountable manner, andup to the date of this narrative all attempts had failed of obtainingany intelligence concerning them whatsoever. To be sure, some boneswhich were thought to be human, mixed up with a quantity of odd-lookingrubbish, had been lately discovered in a retired situation to the eastof Rotterdam, and some people went so far as to imagine that in thisspot a foul murder had been committed, and that the sufferers were inall probability Hans Pfaall and his associates. But to return. 

The balloon (for such no doubt it was) had now descended to withina hundred feet of the earth, allowing the crowd below a sufficientlydistinct view of the person of its occupant. This was in truth a verydroll little somebody. He could not have been more than two feet inheight; but this altitude, little as it was, would have been sufficientto destroy his equilibrium, and tilt him over the edge of his tinycar, but for the intervention of a circular rim reaching as high asthe breast, and rigged on to the cords of the balloon. The body of thelittle man was more than proportionately broad, giving to his entirefigure a rotundity highly absurd. His feet, of course, could not be seenat all, although a horny substance of suspicious nature was occasionallyprotruded through a rent in the bottom of the car, or to speak moreproperly, in the top of the hat. His hands were enormously large. Hishair was extremely gray, and collected in a cue behind. His nose wasprodigiously long, crooked, and inflammatory; his eyes full, brilliant, and acute; his chin and cheeks, although wrinkled with age, were broad, puffy, and double; but of ears of any kind or character there was not asemblance to be discovered upon any portion of his head. This odd littlegentleman was dressed in a loose surtout of sky-blue satin, with tightbreeches to match, fastened with silver buckles at the knees. His vestwas of some bright yellow material; a white taffety cap was set jauntilyon one side of his head; and, to complete his equipment, a blood-redsilk handkerchief enveloped his throat, and fell down, in a daintymanner, upon his bosom, in a fantastic bow-knot of super-eminentdimensions. 

Having descended, as I said before, to about one hundred feet from thesurface of the earth, the little old gentleman was suddenly seizedwith a fit of trepidation, and appeared disinclined to make any nearerapproach to terra firma. Throwing out, therefore, a quantity of sandfrom a canvas bag, which, he lifted with great difficulty, he becamestationary in an instant. He then proceeded, in a hurried and agitatedmanner, to extract from a side-pocket in his surtout a large moroccopocket-book. This he poised suspiciously in his hand, then eyed it withan air of extreme surprise, and was evidently astonished at its weight. He at length opened it, and drawing there from a huge letter sealed withred sealing-wax and tied carefully with red tape, let it fall preciselyat the feet of the burgomaster, Superbus Von Underduk. His Excellencystooped to take it up. But the aeronaut, still greatly discomposed, andhaving apparently no farther business to detain him in Rotterdam, beganat this moment to make busy preparations for departure; and it beingnecessary to discharge a portion of ballast to enable him to reascend, the half dozen bags which he threw out, one after another, withouttaking the trouble to empty their contents, tumbled, every one of them, most unfortunately upon the back of the burgomaster, and rolled him overand over no less than one-and-twenty times, in the face of every man inRotterdam. It is not to be supposed, however, that the great Underduksuffered this impertinence on the part of the little old man to pass offwith impunity. It is said, on the contrary, that during each and everyone of his one-and twenty circumvolutions he emitted no less thanone-and-twenty distinct and furious whiffs from his pipe, to which heheld fast the whole time with all his might, and to which he intendsholding fast until the day of his death. 

In the meantime the balloon arose like a lark, and, soaring far awayabove the city, at length drifted quietly behind a cloud similar to thatfrom which it had so oddly emerged, and was thus lost forever to thewondering eyes of the good citizens of Rotterdam. All attention wasnow directed to the letter, the descent of which, and the consequencesattending thereupon, had proved so fatally subversive of both person andpersonal dignity to his Excellency, the illustrious Burgomaster MynheerSuperbus Von Underduk. That functionary, however, had not failed, duringhis circumgyratory movements, to bestow a thought upon the importantsubject of securing the packet in question, which was seen, uponinspection, to have fallen into the most proper hands, being actuallyaddressed to himself and Professor Rub-a-dub, in their officialcapacities of President and Vice-President of the Rotterdam College ofAstronomy. It was accordingly opened by those dignitaries upon thespot, and found to contain the following extraordinary, and indeed veryserious, communications. 

To their Excellencies Von Underduk and Rub-a-dub, President andVice-President of the States' College of Astronomers, in the city ofRotterdam. 

"Your Excellencies may perhaps be able to remember an humble artizan, byname Hans Pfaall, and by occupation a mender of bellows, who, with threeothers, disappeared from Rotterdam, about five years ago, in a mannerwhich must have been considered by all parties at once sudden, andextremely unaccountable. If, however, it so please your Excellencies, I, the writer of this communication, am the identical Hans Pfaall himself. It is well known to most of my fellow citizens, that for the period offorty years I continued to occupy the little square brick building, atthe head of the alley called Sauerkraut, in which I resided at the timeof my disappearance. My ancestors have also resided therein time out ofmind--they, as well as myself, steadily following the respectable andindeed lucrative profession of mending of bellows. For, to speak thetruth, until of late years, that the heads of all the people have beenset agog with politics, no better business than my own could anhonest citizen of Rotterdam either desire or deserve. Credit was good, employment was never wanting, and on all hands there was no lack ofeither money or good-will. But, as I was saying, we soon began to feelthe effects of liberty and long speeches, and radicalism, and all thatsort of thing. People who were formerly, the very best customers in theworld, had now not a moment of time to think of us at all. They had, sothey said, as much as they could do to read about the revolutions, andkeep up with the march of intellect and the spirit of the age. If a firewanted fanning, it could readily be fanned with a newspaper, and as thegovernment grew weaker, I have no doubt that leather and iron acquireddurability in proportion, for, in a very short time, there was not apair of bellows in all Rotterdam that ever stood in need of a stitch orrequired the assistance of a hammer. This was a state of things notto be endured. I soon grew as poor as a rat, and, having a wife andchildren to provide for, my burdens at length became intolerable, and Ispent hour after hour in reflecting upon the most convenient method ofputting an end to my life. Duns, in the meantime, left me little leisurefor contemplation. My house was literally besieged from morning tillnight, so that I began to rave, and foam, and fret like a cagedtiger against the bars of his enclosure. There were three fellows inparticular who worried me beyond endurance, keeping watch continuallyabout my door, and threatening me with the law. Upon these three Iinternally vowed the bitterest revenge, if ever I should be so happy asto get them within my clutches; and I believe nothing in the world butthe pleasure of this anticipation prevented me from putting my planof suicide into immediate execution, by blowing my brains out with ablunderbuss. I thought it best, however, to dissemble my wrath, and totreat them with promises and fair words, until, by some good turn offate, an opportunity of vengeance should be afforded me. 

"One day, having given my creditors the slip, and feeling more thanusually dejected, I continued for a long time to wander about the mostobscure streets without object whatever, until at length I chanced tostumble against the corner of a bookseller's stall. Seeing a chair closeat hand, for the use of customers, I threw myself doggedly into it, and, hardly knowing why, opened the pages of the first volume whichcame within my reach. It proved to be a small pamphlet treatise onSpeculative Astronomy, written either by Professor Encke of Berlin orby a Frenchman of somewhat similar name. I had some little tincture ofinformation on matters of this nature, and soon became more and moreabsorbed in the contents of the book, reading it actually through twicebefore I awoke to a recollection of what was passing around me. By thistime it began to grow dark, and I directed my steps toward home. Butthe treatise had made an indelible impression on my mind, and, as Isauntered along the dusky streets, I revolved carefully over in mymemory the wild and sometimes unintelligible reasonings of the writer. There are some particular passages which affected my imagination in apowerful and extraordinary manner. The longer I meditated upon thesethe more intense grew the interest which had been excited within me. The limited nature of my education in general, and more especially myignorance on subjects connected with natural philosophy, so far fromrendering me diffident of my own ability to comprehend what I had read, or inducing me to mistrust the many vague notions which had arisen inconsequence, merely served as a farther stimulus to imagination; and Iwas vain enough, or perhaps reasonable enough, to doubt whetherthose crude ideas which, arising in ill-regulated minds, have all theappearance, may not often in effect possess all the force, the reality, and other inherent properties, of instinct or intuition; whether, toproceed a step farther, profundity itself might not, in matters of apurely speculative nature, be detected as a legitimate source of falsityand error. In other words, I believed, and still do believe, that truth, is frequently of its own essence, superficial, and that, in many cases, the depth lies more in the abysses where we seek her, than in the actualsituations wherein she may be found. Nature herself seemed to affordme corroboration of these ideas. In the contemplation of the heavenlybodies it struck me forcibly that I could not distinguish a star withnearly as much precision, when I gazed on it with earnest, direct andundeviating attention, as when I suffered my eye only to glance inits vicinity alone. I was not, of course, at that time aware that thisapparent paradox was occasioned by the center of the visual area beingless susceptible of feeble impressions of light than the exteriorportions of the retina. This knowledge, and some of another kind, cameafterwards in the course of an eventful five years, during which Ihave dropped the prejudices of my former humble situation in life, andforgotten the bellows-mender in far different occupations. But at theepoch of which I speak, the analogy which a casual observation of a staroffered to the conclusions I had already drawn, struck me with the forceof positive conformation, and I then finally made up my mind to thecourse which I afterwards pursued. 

"It was late when I reached home, and I went immediately to bed. Mymind, however, was too much occupied to sleep, and I lay the whole nightburied in meditation. Arising early in the morning, and contrivingagain to escape the vigilance of my creditors, I repaired eagerly to thebookseller's stall, and laid out what little ready money I possessed, in the purchase of some volumes of Mechanics and Practical Astronomy. Having arrived at home safely with these, I devoted every spare momentto their perusal, and soon made such proficiency in studies of thisnature as I thought sufficient for the execution of my plan. In theintervals of this period, I made every endeavor to conciliate thethree creditors who had given me so much annoyance. In this I finallysucceeded--partly by selling enough of my household furniture to satisfya moiety of their claim, and partly by a promise of paying the balanceupon completion of a little project which I told them I had in view, andfor assistance in which I solicited their services. By these means--forthey were ignorant men--I found little difficulty in gaining them overto my purpose. 

"Matters being thus arranged, I contrived, by the aid of my wife andwith the greatest secrecy and caution, to dispose of what property I hadremaining, and to borrow, in small sums, under various pretences, and without paying any attention to my future means of repayment, noinconsiderable quantity of ready money. With the means thus accruing Iproceeded to procure at intervals, cambric muslin, very fine, in piecesof twelve yards each; twine; a lot of the varnish of caoutchouc; alarge and deep basket of wicker-work, made to order; and several otherarticles necessary in the construction and equipment of a balloon ofextraordinary dimensions. This I directed my wife to make up as soon aspossible, and gave her all requisite information as to the particularmethod of proceeding. In the meantime I worked up the twine intoa net-work of sufficient dimensions; rigged it with a hoop and thenecessary cords; bought a quadrant, a compass, a spy-glass, a commonbarometer with some important modifications, and two astronomicalinstruments not so generally known. I then took opportunities ofconveying by night, to a retired situation east of Rotterdam, fiveiron-bound casks, to contain about fifty gallons each, and one of alarger size; six tinned ware tubes, three inches in diameter, properlyshaped, and ten feet in length; a quantity of a particular metallicsubstance, or semi-metal, which I shall not name, and a dozen demijohnsof a very common acid. The gas to be formed from these latter materialsis a gas never yet generated by any other person than myself--or atleast never applied to any similar purpose. The secret I would make nodifficulty in disclosing, but that it of right belongs to a citizen ofNantz, in France, by whom it was conditionally communicated to myself. The same individual submitted to me, without being at all aware of myintentions, a method of constructing balloons from the membrane of acertain animal, through which substance any escape of gas was nearly animpossibility. I found it, however, altogether too expensive, and wasnot sure, upon the whole, whether cambric muslin with a coating ofgum caoutchouc, was not equally as good. I mention this circumstance, because I think it probable that hereafter the individual in questionmay attempt a balloon ascension with the novel gas and material I havespoken of, and I do not wish to deprive him of the honor of a verysingular invention. 

"On the spot which I intended each of the smaller casks to occupyrespectively during the inflation of the balloon, I privately dug a holetwo feet deep; the holes forming in this manner a circle twenty-fivefeet in diameter. In the centre of this circle, being the stationdesigned for the large cask, I also dug a hole three feet in depth. Ineach of the five smaller holes, I deposited a canister containingfifty pounds, and in the larger one a keg holding one hundred and fiftypounds, of cannon powder. These--the keg and canisters--I connected ina proper manner with covered trains; and having let into one of thecanisters the end of about four feet of slow match, I covered up thehole, and placed the cask over it, leaving the other end of the matchprotruding about an inch, and barely visible beyond the cask. I thenfilled up the remaining holes, and placed the barrels over them in theirdestined situation. 

"Besides the articles above enumerated, I conveyed to the depot, andthere secreted, one of M. Grimm's improvements upon the apparatus forcondensation of the atmospheric air. I found this machine, however, to require considerable alteration before it could be adapted to thepurposes to which I intended making it applicable. But, with severelabor and unremitting perseverance, I at length met with entire successin all my preparations. My balloon was soon completed. It would containmore than forty thousand cubic feet of gas; would take me up easily, Icalculated, with all my implements, and, if I managed rightly, withone hundred and seventy-five pounds of ballast into the bargain. Ithad received three coats of varnish, and I found the cambric muslin toanswer all the purposes of silk itself, quite as strong and a good dealless expensive. 

"Everything being now ready, I exacted from my wife an oath of secrecyin relation to all my actions from the day of my first visit to thebookseller's stall; and promising, on my part, to return as soon ascircumstances would permit, I gave her what little money I had left, and bade her farewell. Indeed I had no fear on her account. She waswhat people call a notable woman, and could manage matters in the worldwithout my assistance. I believe, to tell the truth, she always lookedupon me as an idle boy, a mere make-weight, good for nothing butbuilding castles in the air, and was rather glad to get rid of me. It was a dark night when I bade her good-bye, and taking with me, asaides-de-camp, the three creditors who had given me so much trouble, we carried the balloon, with the car and accoutrements, by a roundaboutway, to the station where the other articles were deposited. We therefound them all unmolested, and I proceeded immediately to business. 

"It was the first of April. The night, as I said before, was dark; therewas not a star to be seen; and a drizzling rain, falling at intervals, rendered us very uncomfortable. But my chief anxiety was concerningthe balloon, which, in spite of the varnish with which it was defended, began to grow rather heavy with the moisture; the powder also was liableto damage. I therefore kept my three duns working with great diligence, pounding down ice around the central cask, and stirring the acid in theothers. They did not cease, however, importuning me with questions asto what I intended to do with all this apparatus, and expressed muchdissatisfaction at the terrible labor I made them undergo. They couldnot perceive, so they said, what good was likely to result fromtheir getting wet to the skin, merely to take a part in such horribleincantations. I began to get uneasy, and worked away with all my might, for I verily believe the idiots supposed that I had entered into acompact with the devil, and that, in short, what I was now doing wasnothing better than it should be. I was, therefore, in great fear oftheir leaving me altogether. I contrived, however, to pacify them bypromises of payment of all scores in full, as soon as I could bringthe present business to a termination. To these speeches they gave, ofcourse, their own interpretation; fancying, no doubt, that at all eventsI should come into possession of vast quantities of ready money; andprovided I paid them all I owed, and a trifle more, in consideration oftheir services, I dare say they cared very little what became of eithermy soul or my carcass. 

"In about four hours and a half I found the balloon sufficientlyinflated. I attached the car, therefore, and put all my implements init--not forgetting the condensing apparatus, a copious supply of water, and a large quantity of provisions, such as pemmican, in which muchnutriment is contained in comparatively little bulk. I also secured inthe car a pair of pigeons and a cat. It was now nearly daybreak, and Ithought it high time to take my departure. Dropping a lighted cigar onthe ground, as if by accident, I took the opportunity, in stooping topick it up, of igniting privately the piece of slow match, whose end, as I said before, protruded a very little beyond the lower rim of one ofthe smaller casks. This manoeuvre was totally unperceived on the part ofthe three duns; and, jumping into the car, I immediately cut the singlecord which held me to the earth, and was pleased to find that I shotupward, carrying with all ease one hundred and seventy-five pounds ofleaden ballast, and able to have carried up as many more. 

"Scarcely, however, had I attained the height of fifty yards, when, roaring and rumbling up after me in the most horrible and tumultuousmanner, came so dense a hurricane of fire, and smoke, and sulphur, andlegs and arms, and gravel, and burning wood, and blazing metal, thatmy very heart sunk within me, and I fell down in the bottom of the car, trembling with unmitigated terror. Indeed, I now perceived that I hadentirely overdone the business, and that the main consequences of theshock were yet to be experienced. Accordingly, in less than a second, I felt all the blood in my body rushing to my temples, and immediatelythereupon, a concussion, which I shall never forget, burst abruptlythrough the night and seemed to rip the very firmament asunder. WhenI afterward had time for reflection, I did not fail to attribute theextreme violence of the explosion, as regarded myself, to its propercause--my situation directly above it, and in the line of its greatestpower. But at the time, I thought only of preserving my life. Theballoon at first collapsed, then furiously expanded, then whirled roundand round with horrible velocity, and finally, reeling and staggeringlike a drunken man, hurled me with great force over the rim of the car, and left me dangling, at a terrific height, with my head downward, andmy face outwards, by a piece of slender cord about three feet inlength, which hung accidentally through a crevice near the bottom ofthe wicker-work, and in which, as I fell, my left foot became mostprovidentially entangled. It is impossible--utterly impossible--to formany adequate idea of the horror of my situation. I gasped convulsivelyfor breath--a shudder resembling a fit of the ague agitated every nerveand muscle of my frame--I felt my eyes starting from their sockets--ahorrible nausea overwhelmed me--and at length I fainted away. 

"How long I remained in this state it is impossible to say. It must, however, have been no inconsiderable time, for when I partiallyrecovered the sense of existence, I found the day breaking, the balloonat a prodigious height over a wilderness of ocean, and not a traceof land to be discovered far and wide within the limits of the vasthorizon. My sensations, however, upon thus recovering, were by no meansso rife with agony as might have been anticipated. Indeed, there wasmuch of incipient madness in the calm survey which I began to take of mysituation. I drew up to my eyes each of my hands, one after the other, and wondered what occurrence could have given rise to the swelling ofthe veins, and the horrible blackness of the fingernails. I afterwardcarefully examined my head, shaking it repeatedly, and feeling it withminute attention, until I succeeded in satisfying myself that it wasnot, as I had more than half suspected, larger than my balloon. Then, in a knowing manner, I felt in both my breeches pockets, and, missingtherefrom a set of tablets and a toothpick case, endeavored to accountfor their disappearance, and not being able to do so, felt inexpressiblychagrined. It now occurred to me that I suffered great uneasiness in thejoint of my left ankle, and a dim consciousness of my situation began toglimmer through my mind. But, strange to say! I was neither astonishednor horror-stricken. If I felt any emotion at all, it was a kind ofchuckling satisfaction at the cleverness I was about to display inextricating myself from this dilemma; and I never, for a moment, lookedupon my ultimate safety as a question susceptible of doubt. For a fewminutes I remained wrapped in the profoundest meditation. I have adistinct recollection of frequently compressing my lips, puttingmy forefinger to the side of my nose, and making use of othergesticulations and grimaces common to men who, at ease in theirarm-chairs, meditate upon matters of intricacy or importance. Having, as I thought, sufficiently collected my ideas, I now, with great cautionand deliberation, put my hands behind my back, and unfastened the largeiron buckle which belonged to the waistband of my inexpressibles. Thisbuckle had three teeth, which, being somewhat rusty, turned with greatdifficulty on their axis. I brought them, however, after some trouble, at right angles to the body of the buckle, and was glad to find themremain firm in that position. Holding the instrument thus obtainedwithin my teeth, I now proceeded to untie the knot of my cravat. I hadto rest several times before I could accomplish this manoeuvre, but itwas at length accomplished. To one end of the cravat I then made fastthe buckle, and the other end I tied, for greater security, tightlyaround my wrist. Drawing now my body upwards, with a prodigious exertionof muscular force, I succeeded, at the very first trial, in throwingthe buckle over the car, and entangling it, as I had anticipated, in thecircular rim of the wicker-work. 

"My body was now inclined towards the side of the car, at an angleof about forty-five degrees; but it must not be understood that I wastherefore only forty-five degrees below the perpendicular. So far fromit, I still lay nearly level with the plane of the horizon; for thechange of situation which I had acquired, had forced the bottom of thecar considerably outwards from my position, which was accordingly oneof the most imminent and deadly peril. It should be remembered, however, that when I fell in the first instance, from the car, if I had fallenwith my face turned toward the balloon, instead of turned outwardly fromit, as it actually was; or if, in the second place, the cord by whichI was suspended had chanced to hang over the upper edge, instead ofthrough a crevice near the bottom of the car, --I say it may be readilyconceived that, in either of these supposed cases, I should have beenunable to accomplish even as much as I had now accomplished, and thewonderful adventures of Hans Pfaall would have been utterly lost toposterity, I had therefore every reason to be grateful; although, inpoint of fact, I was still too stupid to be anything at all, and hungfor, perhaps, a quarter of an hour in that extraordinary manner, withoutmaking the slightest farther exertion whatsoever, and in a singularlytranquil state of idiotic enjoyment. But this feeling did not fail todie rapidly away, and thereunto succeeded horror, and dismay, and achilling sense of utter helplessness and ruin. In fact, the blood solong accumulating in the vessels of my head and throat, and which hadhitherto buoyed up my spirits with madness and delirium, had now begunto retire within their proper channels, and the distinctness which wasthus added to my perception of the danger, merely served to deprive meof the self-possession and courage to encounter it. But this weaknesswas, luckily for me, of no very long duration. In good time came to myrescue the spirit of despair, and, with frantic cries and struggles, Ijerked my way bodily upwards, till at length, clutching with a vise-likegrip the long-desired rim, I writhed my person over it, and fellheadlong and shuddering within the car. 

"It was not until some time afterward that I recovered myselfsufficiently to attend to the ordinary cares of the balloon. I then, however, examined it with attention, and found it, to my great relief, uninjured. My implements were all safe, and, fortunately, I had lostneither ballast nor provisions. Indeed, I had so well secured them intheir places, that such an accident was entirely out of the question. Looking at my watch, I found it six o'clock. I was still rapidlyascending, and my barometer gave a present altitude of three andthree-quarter miles. Immediately beneath me in the ocean, lay a smallblack object, slightly oblong in shape, seemingly about the size, andin every way bearing a great resemblance to one of those childishtoys called a domino. Bringing my telescope to bear upon it, I plainlydiscerned it to be a British ninety four-gun ship, close-hauled, andpitching heavily in the sea with her head to the W. S. W. Besides thisship, I saw nothing but the ocean and the sky, and the sun, which hadlong arisen. 

"It is now high time that I should explain to your Excellencies theobject of my perilous voyage. Your Excellencies will bear in mind thatdistressed circumstances in Rotterdam had at length driven me to theresolution of committing suicide. It was not, however, that to lifeitself I had any, positive disgust, but that I was harassed beyondendurance by the adventitious miseries attending my situation. In thisstate of mind, wishing to live, yet wearied with life, the treatise atthe stall of the bookseller opened a resource to my imagination. I thenfinally made up my mind. I determined to depart, yet live--to leave theworld, yet continue to exist--in short, to drop enigmas, I resolved, letwhat would ensue, to force a passage, if I could, to the moon. Now, lestI should be supposed more of a madman than I actually am, I will detail, as well as I am able, the considerations which led me to believe thatan achievement of this nature, although without doubt difficult, andincontestably full of danger, was not absolutely, to a bold spirit, beyond the confines of the possible. 

"The moon's actual distance from the earth was the first thing to beattended to. Now, the mean or average interval between the centres ofthe two planets is 59. 9643 of the earth's equatorial radii, or onlyabout 237, 000 miles. I say the mean or average interval. But it mustbe borne in mind that the form of the moon's orbit being an ellipse ofeccentricity amounting to no less than 0. 05484 of the major semi-axis ofthe ellipse itself, and the earth's centre being situated in its focus, if I could, in any manner, contrive to meet the moon, as it were, in itsperigee, the above mentioned distance would be materially diminished. But, to say nothing at present of this possibility, it was very certainthat, at all events, from the 237, 000 miles I would have to deduct theradius of the earth, say 4, 000, and the radius of the moon, say 1080, in all 5, 080, leaving an actual interval to be traversed, under averagecircumstances, of 231, 920 miles. Now this, I reflected, was novery extraordinary distance. Travelling on land has been repeatedlyaccomplished at the rate of thirty miles per hour, and indeed a muchgreater speed may be anticipated. But even at this velocity, it wouldtake me no more than 322 days to reach the surface of the moon. Therewere, however, many particulars inducing me to believe that my averagerate of travelling might possibly very much exceed that of thirty milesper hour, and, as these considerations did not fail to make a deepimpression upon my mind, I will mention them more fully hereafter. 

"The next point to be regarded was a matter of far greater importance. From indications afforded by the barometer, we find that, in ascensionsfrom the surface of the earth we have, at the height of 1, 000 feet, leftbelow us about one-thirtieth of the entire mass of atmospheric air, thatat 10, 600 we have ascended through nearly one-third; and that at 18, 000, which is not far from the elevation of Cotopaxi, we have surmountedone-half the material, or, at all events, one-half the ponderable, body of air incumbent upon our globe. It is also calculated that at analtitude not exceeding the hundredth part of the earth's diameter--thatis, not exceeding eighty miles--the rarefaction would be so excessivethat animal life could in no manner be sustained, and, moreover, thatthe most delicate means we possess of ascertaining the presence of theatmosphere would be inadequate to assure us of its existence. But Idid not fail to perceive that these latter calculations are foundedaltogether on our experimental knowledge of the properties of air, andthe mechanical laws regulating its dilation and compression, in what maybe called, comparatively speaking, the immediate vicinity of the earthitself; and, at the same time, it is taken for granted that animallife is and must be essentially incapable of modification at any givenunattainable distance from the surface. Now, all such reasoning and fromsuch data must, of course, be simply analogical. The greatest heightever reached by man was that of 25, 000 feet, attained in the aeronauticexpedition of Messieurs Gay-Lussac and Biot. This is a moderatealtitude, even when compared with the eighty miles in question; and Icould not help thinking that the subject admitted room for doubt andgreat latitude for speculation. 

"But, in point of fact, an ascension being made to any given altitude, the ponderable quantity of air surmounted in any farther ascension isby no means in proportion to the additional height ascended (as maybe plainly seen from what has been stated before), but in a ratioconstantly decreasing. It is therefore evident that, ascend as high aswe may, we cannot, literally speaking, arrive at a limit beyond whichno atmosphere is to be found. It must exist, I argued; although it mayexist in a state of infinite rarefaction. 

"On the other hand, I was aware that arguments have not been wantingto prove the existence of a real and definite limit to the atmosphere, beyond which there is absolutely no air whatsoever. But a circumstancewhich has been left out of view by those who contend for such a limitseemed to me, although no positive refutation of their creed, stilla point worthy very serious investigation. On comparing the intervalsbetween the successive arrivals of Encke's comet at its perihelion, after giving credit, in the most exact manner, for all the disturbancesdue to the attractions of the planets, it appears that the periods aregradually diminishing; that is to say, the major axis of the comet'sellipse is growing shorter, in a slow but perfectly regular decrease. Now, this is precisely what ought to be the case, if we suppose aresistance experienced from the comet from an extremely rare etherealmedium pervading the regions of its orbit. For it is evident that sucha medium must, in retarding the comet's velocity, increase itscentripetal, by weakening its centrifugal force. In other words, thesun's attraction would be constantly attaining greater power, and thecomet would be drawn nearer at every revolution. Indeed, there is noother way of accounting for the variation in question. But again. Thereal diameter of the same comet's nebulosity is observed to contractrapidly as it approaches the sun, and dilate with equal rapidity in itsdeparture towards its aphelion. Was I not justifiable in supposing withM. Valz, that this apparent condensation of volume has its origin inthe compression of the same ethereal medium I have spoken of before, and which is only denser in proportion to its solar vicinity? Thelenticular-shaped phenomenon, also called the zodiacal light, was amatter worthy of attention. This radiance, so apparent in the tropics, and which cannot be mistaken for any meteoric lustre, extends from thehorizon obliquely upward, and follows generally the direction of thesun's equator. It appeared to me evidently in the nature of a rareatmosphere extending from the sun outward, beyond the orbit of Venus atleast, and I believed indefinitely farther. (*2) Indeed, this medium Icould not suppose confined to the path of the comet's ellipse, or tothe immediate neighborhood of the sun. It was easy, on the contrary, to imagine it pervading the entire regions of our planetary system, condensed into what we call atmosphere at the planets themselves, andperhaps at some of them modified by considerations, so to speak, purelygeological. 

"Having adopted this view of the subject, I had little furtherhesitation. Granting that on my passage I should meet with atmosphereessentially the same as at the surface of the earth, I conceived that, by means of the very ingenious apparatus of M. Grimm, I should readilybe enabled to condense it in sufficient quantity for the purposes ofrespiration. This would remove the chief obstacle in a journey to themoon. I had indeed spent some money and great labor in adapting theapparatus to the object intended, and confidently looked forward to itssuccessful application, if I could manage to complete the voyage withinany reasonable period. This brings me back to the rate at which it mightbe possible to travel. 

"It is true that balloons, in the first stage of their ascensions fromthe earth, are known to rise with a velocity comparatively moderate. Now, the power of elevation lies altogether in the superior lightness ofthe gas in the balloon compared with the atmospheric air; and, atfirst sight, it does not appear probable that, as the balloon acquiresaltitude, and consequently arrives successively in atmospheric strataof densities rapidly diminishing--I say, it does not appear at allreasonable that, in this its progress upwards, the original velocityshould be accelerated. On the other hand, I was not aware that, in anyrecorded ascension, a diminution was apparent in the absolute rateof ascent; although such should have been the case, if on accountof nothing else, on account of the escape of gas through balloonsill-constructed, and varnished with no better material than the ordinaryvarnish. It seemed, therefore, that the effect of such escape was onlysufficient to counterbalance the effect of some accelerating power. Inow considered that, provided in my passage I found the medium Ihad imagined, and provided that it should prove to be actuallyand essentially what we denominate atmospheric air, it could makecomparatively little difference at what extreme state of rarefactionI should discover it--that is to say, in regard to my power ofascending--for the gas in the balloon would not only be itself subjectto rarefaction partially similar (in proportion to the occurrence ofwhich, I could suffer an escape of so much as would be requisite toprevent explosion), but, being what it was, would, at all events, continue specifically lighter than any compound whatever of merenitrogen and oxygen. In the meantime, the force of gravitation would beconstantly diminishing, in proportion to the squares of the distances, and thus, with a velocity prodigiously accelerating, I should atlength arrive in those distant regions where the force of the earth'sattraction would be superseded by that of the moon. In accordance withthese ideas, I did not think it worth while to encumber myself with moreprovisions than would be sufficient for a period of forty days. 

"There was still, however, another difficulty, which occasioned me somelittle disquietude. It has been observed, that, in balloon ascensions toany considerable height, besides the pain attending respiration, greatuneasiness is experienced about the head and body, often accompaniedwith bleeding at the nose, and other symptoms of an alarming kind, and growing more and more inconvenient in proportion to the altitudeattained. (*3) This was a reflection of a nature somewhat startling. Wasit not probable that these symptoms would increase indefinitely, or atleast until terminated by death itself? I finally thought not. Theirorigin was to be looked for in the progressive removal of the customaryatmospheric pressure upon the surface of the body, and consequentdistention of the superficial blood-vessels--not in any positivedisorganization of the animal system, as in the case of difficulty inbreathing, where the atmospheric density is chemically insufficientfor the due renovation of blood in a ventricle of the heart. Unless fordefault of this renovation, I could see no reason, therefore, whylife could not be sustained even in a vacuum; for the expansion andcompression of chest, commonly called breathing, is action purelymuscular, and the cause, not the effect, of respiration. In a word, I conceived that, as the body should become habituated to the wantof atmospheric pressure, the sensations of pain would graduallydiminish--and to endure them while they continued, I relied withconfidence upon the iron hardihood of my constitution. 

"Thus, may it please your Excellencies, I have detailed some, though byno means all, the considerations which led me to form the project ofa lunar voyage. I shall now proceed to lay before you the result of anattempt so apparently audacious in conception, and, at all events, soutterly unparalleled in the annals of mankind. 

"Having attained the altitude before mentioned, that is to say threemiles and three-quarters, I threw out from the car a quantity offeathers, and found that I still ascended with sufficient rapidity;there was, therefore, no necessity for discharging any ballast. I wasglad of this, for I wished to retain with me as much weight as I couldcarry, for reasons which will be explained in the sequel. I as yetsuffered no bodily inconvenience, breathing with great freedom, andfeeling no pain whatever in the head. The cat was lying very demurelyupon my coat, which I had taken off, and eyeing the pigeons with an airof nonchalance. These latter being tied by the leg, to prevent theirescape, were busily employed in picking up some grains of rice scatteredfor them in the bottom of the car. 

"At twenty minutes past six o'clock, the barometer showed an elevationof 26, 400 feet, or five miles to a fraction. The prospect seemedunbounded. Indeed, it is very easily calculated by means of sphericalgeometry, what a great extent of the earth's area I beheld. The convexsurface of any segment of a sphere is, to the entire surface of thesphere itself, as the versed sine of the segment to the diameter of thesphere. Now, in my case, the versed sine--that is to say, the thicknessof the segment beneath me--was about equal to my elevation, or theelevation of the point of sight above the surface. 'As five miles, then, to eight thousand, ' would express the proportion of the earth's areaseen by me. In other words, I beheld as much as a sixteen-hundredthpart of the whole surface of the globe. The sea appeared unruffled as amirror, although, by means of the spy-glass, I could perceive it to bein a state of violent agitation. The ship was no longer visible, havingdrifted away, apparently to the eastward. I now began to experience, atintervals, severe pain in the head, especially about the ears--still, however, breathing with tolerable freedom. The cat and pigeons seemed tosuffer no inconvenience whatsoever. 

"At twenty minutes before seven, the balloon entered a long series ofdense cloud, which put me to great trouble, by damaging my condensingapparatus and wetting me to the skin. This was, to be sure, a singularrecontre, for I had not believed it possible that a cloud of this naturecould be sustained at so great an elevation. I thought it best, however, to throw out two five-pound pieces of ballast, reserving still a weightof one hundred and sixty-five pounds. Upon so doing, I soon rose abovethe difficulty, and perceived immediately, that I had obtained a greatincrease in my rate of ascent. In a few seconds after my leaving thecloud, a flash of vivid lightning shot from one end of it to the other, and caused it to kindle up, throughout its vast extent, like a mass ofignited and glowing charcoal. This, it must be remembered, was in thebroad light of day. No fancy may picture the sublimity which might havebeen exhibited by a similar phenomenon taking place amid the darkness ofthe night. Hell itself might have been found a fitting image. Even asit was, my hair stood on end, while I gazed afar down within the yawningabysses, letting imagination descend, as it were, and stalk about in thestrange vaulted halls, and ruddy gulfs, and red ghastly chasms of thehideous and unfathomable fire. I had indeed made a narrow escape. Hadthe balloon remained a very short while longer within the cloud--thatis to say--had not the inconvenience of getting wet, determined me todischarge the ballast, inevitable ruin would have been the consequence. Such perils, although little considered, are perhaps the greatest whichmust be encountered in balloons. I had by this time, however, attainedtoo great an elevation to be any longer uneasy on this head. 

"I was now rising rapidly, and by seven o'clock the barometer indicatedan altitude of no less than nine miles and a half. I began to find greatdifficulty in drawing my breath. My head, too, was excessively painful;and, having felt for some time a moisture about my cheeks, I at lengthdiscovered it to be blood, which was oozing quite fast from the drums ofmy ears. My eyes, also, gave me great uneasiness. Upon passing thehand over them they seemed to have protruded from their sockets in noinconsiderable degree; and all objects in the car, and even the balloonitself, appeared distorted to my vision. These symptoms were more thanI had expected, and occasioned me some alarm. At this juncture, veryimprudently, and without consideration, I threw out from the car threefive-pound pieces of ballast. The accelerated rate of ascent thusobtained, carried me too rapidly, and without sufficient gradation, intoa highly rarefied stratum of the atmosphere, and the result had nearlyproved fatal to my expedition and to myself. I was suddenly seized witha spasm which lasted for more than five minutes, and even when this, ina measure, ceased, I could catch my breath only at long intervals, andin a gasping manner--bleeding all the while copiously at the nose andears, and even slightly at the eyes. The pigeons appeared distressedin the extreme, and struggled to escape; while the cat mewed piteously, and, with her tongue hanging out of her mouth, staggered to and fro inthe car as if under the influence of poison. I now too late discoveredthe great rashness of which I had been guilty in discharging theballast, and my agitation was excessive. I anticipated nothing less thandeath, and death in a few minutes. The physical suffering I underwentcontributed also to render me nearly incapable of making any exertionfor the preservation of my life. I had, indeed, little power ofreflection left, and the violence of the pain in my head seemed to begreatly on the increase. Thus I found that my senses would shortly giveway altogether, and I had already clutched one of the valve ropes withthe view of attempting a descent, when the recollection of the trick Ihad played the three creditors, and the possible consequences to myself, should I return, operated to deter me for the moment. I lay down in thebottom of the car, and endeavored to collect my faculties. In this Iso far succeeded as to determine upon the experiment of losing blood. Having no lancet, however, I was constrained to perform the operation inthe best manner I was able, and finally succeeded in opening a veinin my right arm, with the blade of my penknife. The blood had hardlycommenced flowing when I experienced a sensible relief, and by the timeI had lost about half a moderate basin full, most of the worst symptomshad abandoned me entirely. I nevertheless did not think it expedient toattempt getting on my feet immediately; but, having tied up my arm aswell as I could, I lay still for about a quarter of an hour. At the endof this time I arose, and found myself freer from absolute pain of anykind than I had been during the last hour and a quarter of my ascension. The difficulty of breathing, however, was diminished in a very slightdegree, and I found that it would soon be positively necessary to makeuse of my condenser. In the meantime, looking toward the cat, who wasagain snugly stowed away upon my coat, I discovered to my infinitesurprise, that she had taken the opportunity of my indisposition tobring into light a litter of three little kittens. This was an additionto the number of passengers on my part altogether unexpected; but I waspleased at the occurrence. It would afford me a chance of bringing to akind of test the truth of a surmise, which, more than anything else, had influenced me in attempting this ascension. I had imagined that thehabitual endurance of the atmospheric pressure at the surface ofthe earth was the cause, or nearly so, of the pain attending animalexistence at a distance above the surface. Should the kittens be foundto suffer uneasiness in an equal degree with their mother, I mustconsider my theory in fault, but a failure to do so I should look uponas a strong confirmation of my idea. 

"By eight o'clock I had actually attained an elevation of seventeenmiles above the surface of the earth. Thus it seemed to me evident thatmy rate of ascent was not only on the increase, but that the progressionwould have been apparent in a slight degree even had I not dischargedthe ballast which I did. The pains in my head and ears returned, atintervals, with violence, and I still continued to bleed occasionally atthe nose; but, upon the whole, I suffered much less than might havebeen expected. I breathed, however, at every moment, with more andmore difficulty, and each inhalation was attended with a troublesomespasmodic action of the chest. I now unpacked the condensing apparatus, and got it ready for immediate use. 

"The view of the earth, at this period of my ascension, was beautifulindeed. To the westward, the northward, and the southward, as far as Icould see, lay a boundless sheet of apparently unruffled ocean, whichevery moment gained a deeper and a deeper tint of blue and began alreadyto assume a slight appearance of convexity. At a vast distance to theeastward, although perfectly discernible, extended the islands of GreatBritain, the entire Atlantic coasts of France and Spain, with a smallportion of the northern part of the continent of Africa. Of individualedifices not a trace could be discovered, and the proudest cities ofmankind had utterly faded away from the face of the earth. From the rockof Gibraltar, now dwindled into a dim speck, the dark Mediterranean sea, dotted with shining islands as the heaven is dotted with stars, spreaditself out to the eastward as far as my vision extended, until itsentire mass of waters seemed at length to tumble headlong over the abyssof the horizon, and I found myself listening on tiptoe for the echoesof the mighty cataract. Overhead, the sky was of a jetty black, and thestars were brilliantly visible. 

"The pigeons about this time seeming to undergo much suffering, Idetermined upon giving them their liberty. I first untied one of them, a beautiful gray-mottled pigeon, and placed him upon the rim of thewicker-work. He appeared extremely uneasy, looking anxiously around him, fluttering his wings, and making a loud cooing noise, but could not bepersuaded to trust himself from off the car. I took him up at last, and threw him to about half a dozen yards from the balloon. He made, however, no attempt to descend as I had expected, but struggled withgreat vehemence to get back, uttering at the same time very shrill andpiercing cries. He at length succeeded in regaining his former stationon the rim, but had hardly done so when his head dropped upon hisbreast, and he fell dead within the car. The other one did not prove sounfortunate. To prevent his following the example of his companion, andaccomplishing a return, I threw him downward with all my force, and waspleased to find him continue his descent, with great velocity, makinguse of his wings with ease, and in a perfectly natural manner. In a veryshort time he was out of sight, and I have no doubt he reached home insafety. Puss, who seemed in a great measure recovered from her illness, now made a hearty meal of the dead bird and then went to sleep with muchapparent satisfaction. Her kittens were quite lively, and so far evincednot the slightest sign of any uneasiness whatever. 

"At a quarter-past eight, being no longer able to draw breath withoutthe most intolerable pain, I proceeded forthwith to adjust aroundthe car the apparatus belonging to the condenser. This apparatus willrequire some little explanation, and your Excellencies will please tobear in mind that my object, in the first place, was to surround myselfand cat entirely with a barricade against the highly rarefied atmospherein which I was existing, with the intention of introducing within thisbarricade, by means of my condenser, a quantity of this same atmospheresufficiently condensed for the purposes of respiration. With this objectin view I had prepared a very strong perfectly air-tight, but flexiblegum-elastic bag. In this bag, which was of sufficient dimensions, theentire car was in a manner placed. That is to say, it (the bag) wasdrawn over the whole bottom of the car, up its sides, and so on, alongthe outside of the ropes, to the upper rim or hoop where the net-workis attached. Having pulled the bag up in this way, and formed a completeenclosure on all sides, and at bottom, it was now necessary to fastenup its top or mouth, by passing its material over the hoop of thenet-work--in other words, between the net-work and the hoop. But if thenet-work were separated from the hoop to admit this passage, what wasto sustain the car in the meantime? Now the net-work was not permanentlyfastened to the hoop, but attached by a series of running loops ornooses. I therefore undid only a few of these loops at one time, leavingthe car suspended by the remainder. Having thus inserted a portion ofthe cloth forming the upper part of the bag, I refastened the loops--notto the hoop, for that would have been impossible, since the clothnow intervened--but to a series of large buttons, affixed to the clothitself, about three feet below the mouth of the bag, the intervalsbetween the buttons having been made to correspond to the intervalsbetween the loops. This done, a few more of the loops were unfastenedfrom the rim, a farther portion of the cloth introduced, and thedisengaged loops then connected with their proper buttons. In this wayit was possible to insert the whole upper part of the bag between thenet-work and the hoop. It is evident that the hoop would now drop downwithin the car, while the whole weight of the car itself, with all itscontents, would be held up merely by the strength of the buttons. This, at first sight, would seem an inadequate dependence; but it was by nomeans so, for the buttons were not only very strong in themselves, butso close together that a very slight portion of the whole weight wassupported by any one of them. Indeed, had the car and contents beenthree times heavier than they were, I should not have been atall uneasy. I now raised up the hoop again within the covering ofgum-elastic, and propped it at nearly its former height by means ofthree light poles prepared for the occasion. This was done, of course, to keep the bag distended at the top, and to preserve the lower partof the net-work in its proper situation. All that now remained was tofasten up the mouth of the enclosure; and this was readily accomplishedby gathering the folds of the material together, and twisting them upvery tightly on the inside by means of a kind of stationary tourniquet. 

"In the sides of the covering thus adjusted round the car, had beeninserted three circular panes of thick but clear glass, through which Icould see without difficulty around me in every horizontal direction. In that portion of the cloth forming the bottom, was likewise, a fourthwindow, of the same kind, and corresponding with a small aperture in thefloor of the car itself. This enabled me to see perpendicularlydown, but having found it impossible to place any similar contrivanceoverhead, on account of the peculiar manner of closing up the openingthere, and the consequent wrinkles in the cloth, I could expect to seeno objects situated directly in my zenith. This, of course, was a matterof little consequence; for had I even been able to place a window attop, the balloon itself would have prevented my making any use of it. 

"About a foot below one of the side windows was a circular opening, eight inches in diameter, and fitted with a brass rim adapted in itsinner edge to the windings of a screw. In this rim was screwed the largetube of the condenser, the body of the machine being, of course, withinthe chamber of gum-elastic. Through this tube a quantity of the rareatmosphere circumjacent being drawn by means of a vacuum created in thebody of the machine, was thence discharged, in a state of condensation, to mingle with the thin air already in the chamber. This operation beingrepeated several times, at length filled the chamber with atmosphereproper for all the purposes of respiration. But in so confined a spaceit would, in a short time, necessarily become foul, and unfit for usefrom frequent contact with the lungs. It was then ejected by a smallvalve at the bottom of the car--the dense air readily sinking into thethinner atmosphere below. To avoid the inconvenience of making a totalvacuum at any moment within the chamber, this purification was neveraccomplished all at once, but in a gradual manner--the valve beingopened only for a few seconds, then closed again, until one or twostrokes from the pump of the condenser had supplied the place of theatmosphere ejected. For the sake of experiment I had put the cat andkittens in a small basket, and suspended it outside the car to a buttonat the bottom, close by the valve, through which I could feed them atany moment when necessary. I did this at some little risk, and beforeclosing the mouth of the chamber, by reaching under the car with one ofthe poles before mentioned to which a hook had been attached. 

"By the time I had fully completed these arrangements and filled thechamber as explained, it wanted only ten minutes of nine o'clock. Duringthe whole period of my being thus employed, I endured the most terribledistress from difficulty of respiration, and bitterly did I repent thenegligence or rather fool-hardiness, of which I had been guilty, ofputting off to the last moment a matter of so much importance. Buthaving at length accomplished it, I soon began to reap the benefit ofmy invention. Once again I breathed with perfect freedom and ease--andindeed why should I not? I was also agreeably surprised to find myself, in a great measure, relieved from the violent pains which had hithertotormented me. A slight headache, accompanied with a sensation of fulnessor distention about the wrists, the ankles, and the throat, was nearlyall of which I had now to complain. Thus it seemed evident that agreater part of the uneasiness attending the removal of atmosphericpressure had actually worn off, as I had expected, and that much ofthe pain endured for the last two hours should have been attributedaltogether to the effects of a deficient respiration. 

"At twenty minutes before nine o'clock--that is to say, a short timeprior to my closing up the mouth of the chamber, the mercury attainedits limit, or ran down, in the barometer, which, as I mentioned before, was one of an extended construction. It then indicated an altitude onmy part of 132, 000 feet, or five-and-twenty miles, and I consequentlysurveyed at that time an extent of the earth's area amounting to no lessthan the three hundred-and-twentieth part of its entire superficies. At nine o'clock I had again lost sight of land to the eastward, but notbefore I became aware that the balloon was drifting rapidly to the N. N. W. The convexity of the ocean beneath me was very evident indeed, although my view was often interrupted by the masses of cloud whichfloated to and fro. I observed now that even the lightest vapors neverrose to more than ten miles above the level of the sea. 

"At half past nine I tried the experiment of throwing out a handful offeathers through the valve. They did not float as I had expected; butdropped down perpendicularly, like a bullet, en masse, and with thegreatest velocity--being out of sight in a very few seconds. I did notat first know what to make of this extraordinary phenomenon; not beingable to believe that my rate of ascent had, of a sudden, met withso prodigious an acceleration. But it soon occurred to me that theatmosphere was now far too rare to sustain even the feathers; that theyactually fell, as they appeared to do, with great rapidity; and that Ihad been surprised by the united velocities of their descent and my ownelevation. 

"By ten o'clock I found that I had very little to occupy my immediateattention. Affairs went swimmingly, and I believed the balloon to begoing upward with a speed increasing momently although I had no longerany means of ascertaining the progression of the increase. I suffered nopain or uneasiness of any kind, and enjoyed better spirits than I hadat any period since my departure from Rotterdam, busying myself now inexamining the state of my various apparatus, and now in regenerating theatmosphere within the chamber. This latter point I determined toattend to at regular intervals of forty minutes, more on account ofthe preservation of my health, than from so frequent a renovationbeing absolutely necessary. In the meanwhile I could not help makinganticipations. Fancy revelled in the wild and dreamy regions of themoon. Imagination, feeling herself for once unshackled, roamed at willamong the ever-changing wonders of a shadowy and unstable land. Nowthere were hoary and time-honored forests, and craggy precipices, andwaterfalls tumbling with a loud noise into abysses without a bottom. Then I came suddenly into still noonday solitudes, where no wind ofheaven ever intruded, and where vast meadows of poppies, and slender, lily-looking flowers spread themselves out a weary distance, all silentand motionless forever. Then again I journeyed far down away intoanother country where it was all one dim and vague lake, with a boundaryline of clouds. And out of this melancholy water arose a forest of talleastern trees, like a wilderness of dreams. And I have in mind thatthe shadows of the trees which fell upon the lake remained not onthe surface where they fell, but sunk slowly and steadily down, andcommingled with the waves, while from the trunks of the trees othershadows were continually coming out, and taking the place of theirbrothers thus entombed. "This then, " I said thoughtfully, "is the veryreason why the waters of this lake grow blacker with age, and moremelancholy as the hours run on. " But fancies such as these were not thesole possessors of my brain. Horrors of a nature most stern and mostappalling would too frequently obtrude themselves upon my mind, andshake the innermost depths of my soul with the bare supposition of theirpossibility. Yet I would not suffer my thoughts for any length of timeto dwell upon these latter speculations, rightly judging the real andpalpable dangers of the voyage sufficient for my undivided attention. 

"At five o'clock, p. M. , being engaged in regenerating the atmospherewithin the chamber, I took that opportunity of observing the cat andkittens through the valve. The cat herself appeared to suffer again verymuch, and I had no hesitation in attributing her uneasiness chiefly to adifficulty in breathing; but my experiment with the kittens had resultedvery strangely. I had expected, of course, to see them betray a sense ofpain, although in a less degree than their mother, and this would havebeen sufficient to confirm my opinion concerning the habitual enduranceof atmospheric pressure. But I was not prepared to find them, upon closeexamination, evidently enjoying a high degree of health, breathing withthe greatest ease and perfect regularity, and evincing not the slightestsign of any uneasiness whatever. I could only account for all this byextending my theory, and supposing that the highly rarefied atmospherearound might perhaps not be, as I had taken for granted, chemicallyinsufficient for the purposes of life, and that a person born in sucha medium might, possibly, be unaware of any inconvenience attending itsinhalation, while, upon removal to the denser strata near the earth, he might endure tortures of a similar nature to those I had so latelyexperienced. It has since been to me a matter of deep regret that anawkward accident, at this time, occasioned me the loss of my littlefamily of cats, and deprived me of the insight into this matter which acontinued experiment might have afforded. In passing my hand throughthe valve, with a cup of water for the old puss, the sleeves of my shirtbecame entangled in the loop which sustained the basket, and thus, ina moment, loosened it from the bottom. Had the whole actually vanishedinto air, it could not have shot from my sight in a more abrupt andinstantaneous manner. Positively, there could not have intervened thetenth part of a second between the disengagement of the basket and itsabsolute and total disappearance with all that it contained. My goodwishes followed it to the earth, but of course, I had no hope thateither cat or kittens would ever live to tell the tale of theirmisfortune. 

"At six o'clock, I perceived a great portion of the earth's visible areato the eastward involved in thick shadow, which continued to advancewith great rapidity, until, at five minutes before seven, the wholesurface in view was enveloped in the darkness of night. It was not, however, until long after this time that the rays of the setting sunceased to illumine the balloon; and this circumstance, although ofcourse fully anticipated, did not fail to give me an infinite dealof pleasure. It was evident that, in the morning, I should behold therising luminary many hours at least before the citizens of Rotterdam, inspite of their situation so much farther to the eastward, and thus, dayafter day, in proportion to the height ascended, would I enjoy the lightof the sun for a longer and a longer period. I now determined to keep ajournal of my passage, reckoning the days from one to twenty-fourhours continuously, without taking into consideration the intervals ofdarkness. 

"At ten o'clock, feeling sleepy, I determined to lie down for the restof the night; but here a difficulty presented itself, which, obvious asit may appear, had escaped my attention up to the very moment of whichI am now speaking. If I went to sleep as I proposed, how could theatmosphere in the chamber be regenerated in the interim? To breatheit for more than an hour, at the farthest, would be a matter ofimpossibility, or, if even this term could be extended to an hour and aquarter, the most ruinous consequences might ensue. The considerationof this dilemma gave me no little disquietude; and it will hardly bebelieved, that, after the dangers I had undergone, I should lookupon this business in so serious a light, as to give up all hope ofaccomplishing my ultimate design, and finally make up my mind to thenecessity of a descent. But this hesitation was only momentary. Ireflected that man is the veriest slave of custom, and that many pointsin the routine of his existence are deemed essentially important, whichare only so at all by his having rendered them habitual. It was verycertain that I could not do without sleep; but I might easily bringmyself to feel no inconvenience from being awakened at intervals of anhour during the whole period of my repose. It would require but fiveminutes at most to regenerate the atmosphere in the fullest manner, andthe only real difficulty was to contrive a method of arousing myselfat the proper moment for so doing. But this was a question which, I amwilling to confess, occasioned me no little trouble in its solution. Tobe sure, I had heard of the student who, to prevent his falling asleepover his books, held in one hand a ball of copper, the din of whosedescent into a basin of the same metal on the floor beside his chair, served effectually to startle him up, if, at any moment, he shouldbe overcome with drowsiness. My own case, however, was very differentindeed, and left me no room for any similar idea; for I did not wish tokeep awake, but to be aroused from slumber at regular intervals of time. I at length hit upon the following expedient, which, simple as it mayseem, was hailed by me, at the moment of discovery, as an inventionfully equal to that of the telescope, the steam-engine, or the art ofprinting itself. 

"It is necessary to premise, that the balloon, at the elevation nowattained, continued its course upward with an even and undeviatingascent, and the car consequently followed with a steadiness so perfectthat it would have been impossible to detect in it the slightestvacillation whatever. This circumstance favored me greatly in theproject I now determined to adopt. My supply of water had been put onboard in kegs containing five gallons each, and ranged very securelyaround the interior of the car. I unfastened one of these, and takingtwo ropes tied them tightly across the rim of the wicker-work from oneside to the other; placing them about a foot apart and parallel so as toform a kind of shelf, upon which I placed the keg, and steadied it in ahorizontal position. About eight inches immediately below these ropes, and four feet from the bottom of the car I fastened another shelf--butmade of thin plank, being the only similar piece of wood I had. Uponthis latter shelf, and exactly beneath one of the rims of the keg, asmall earthern pitcher was deposited. I now bored a hole in the end ofthe keg over the pitcher, and fitted in a plug of soft wood, cut in atapering or conical shape. This plug I pushed in or pulled out, as mighthappen, until, after a few experiments, it arrived at that exact degreeof tightness, at which the water, oozing from the hole, and falling intothe pitcher below, would fill the latter to the brim in the periodof sixty minutes. This, of course, was a matter briefly and easilyascertained, by noticing the proportion of the pitcher filled in anygiven time. Having arranged all this, the rest of the plan is obvious. My bed was so contrived upon the floor of the car, as to bring myhead, in lying down, immediately below the mouth of the pitcher. It wasevident, that, at the expiration of an hour, the pitcher, getting full, would be forced to run over, and to run over at the mouth, which wassomewhat lower than the rim. It was also evident, that the water thusfalling from a height of more than four feet, could not do otherwisethan fall upon my face, and that the sure consequences would be, towaken me up instantaneously, even from the soundest slumber in theworld. 

"It was fully eleven by the time I had completed these arrangements, and I immediately betook myself to bed, with full confidence in theefficiency of my invention. Nor in this matter was I disappointed. Punctually every sixty minutes was I aroused by my trusty chronometer, when, having emptied the pitcher into the bung-hole of the keg, andperformed the duties of the condenser, I retired again to bed. Theseregular interruptions to my slumber caused me even less discomfort thanI had anticipated; and when I finally arose for the day, it was seveno'clock, and the sun had attained many degrees above the line of myhorizon. 

"April 3d. I found the balloon at an immense height indeed, and theearth's apparent convexity increased in a material degree. Below me inthe ocean lay a cluster of black specks, which undoubtedly were islands. Far away to the northward I perceived a thin, white, and exceedinglybrilliant line, or streak, on the edge of the horizon, and I had nohesitation in supposing it to be the southern disk of the ices of thePolar Sea. My curiosity was greatly excited, for I had hopes of passingon much farther to the north, and might possibly, at some period, findmyself placed directly above the Pole itself. I now lamented that mygreat elevation would, in this case, prevent my taking as accurate asurvey as I could wish. Much, however, might be ascertained. Nothingelse of an extraordinary nature occurred during the day. My apparatusall continued in good order, and the balloon still ascended without anyperceptible vacillation. The cold was intense, and obliged me to wrapup closely in an overcoat. When darkness came over the earth, I betookmyself to bed, although it was for many hours afterward broad daylightall around my immediate situation. The water-clock was punctual in itsduty, and I slept until next morning soundly, with the exception of theperiodical interruption. 

"April 4th. Arose in good health and spirits, and was astonished at thesingular change which had taken place in the appearance of the sea. It had lost, in a great measure, the deep tint of blue it had hithertoworn, being now of a grayish-white, and of a lustre dazzling to the eye. The islands were no longer visible; whether they had passed down thehorizon to the southeast, or whether my increasing elevation had leftthem out of sight, it is impossible to say. I was inclined, however, tothe latter opinion. The rim of ice to the northward was growing moreand more apparent. Cold by no means so intense. Nothing of importanceoccurred, and I passed the day in reading, having taken care to supplymyself with books. 

"April 5th. Beheld the singular phenomenon of the sun rising whilenearly the whole visible surface of the earth continued to be involvedin darkness. In time, however, the light spread itself over all, and Iagain saw the line of ice to the northward. It was now very distinct, and appeared of a much darker hue than the waters of the ocean. I wasevidently approaching it, and with great rapidity. Fancied I couldagain distinguish a strip of land to the eastward, and one also to thewestward, but could not be certain. Weather moderate. Nothing of anyconsequence happened during the day. Went early to bed. 

"April 6th. Was surprised at finding the rim of ice at a very moderatedistance, and an immense field of the same material stretching away offto the horizon in the north. It was evident that if the balloon held itspresent course, it would soon arrive above the Frozen Ocean, and I hadnow little doubt of ultimately seeing the Pole. During the whole of theday I continued to near the ice. Toward night the limits of my horizonvery suddenly and materially increased, owing undoubtedly to theearth's form being that of an oblate spheroid, and my arriving above theflattened regions in the vicinity of the Arctic circle. When darkness atlength overtook me, I went to bed in great anxiety, fearing to pass overthe object of so much curiosity when I should have no opportunity ofobserving it. 

"April 7th. Arose early, and, to my great joy, at length beheld whatthere could be no hesitation in supposing the northern Pole itself. Itwas there, beyond a doubt, and immediately beneath my feet; but, alas! Ihad now ascended to so vast a distance, that nothing could with accuracybe discerned. Indeed, to judge from the progression of the numbersindicating my various altitudes, respectively, at different periods, between six A. M. On the second of April, and twenty minutes before nineA. M. Of the same day (at which time the barometer ran down), it might befairly inferred that the balloon had now, at four o'clock in the morningof April the seventh, reached a height of not less, certainly, than7, 254 miles above the surface of the sea. This elevation may appearimmense, but the estimate upon which it is calculated gave a result inall probability far inferior to the truth. At all events I undoubtedlybeheld the whole of the earth's major diameter; the entire northernhemisphere lay beneath me like a chart orthographically projected: andthe great circle of the equator itself formed the boundary line ofmy horizon. Your Excellencies may, however, readily imagine that theconfined regions hitherto unexplored within the limits of the Arcticcircle, although situated directly beneath me, and therefore seenwithout any appearance of being foreshortened, were still, inthemselves, comparatively too diminutive, and at too great a distancefrom the point of sight, to admit of any very accurate examination. Nevertheless, what could be seen was of a nature singular and exciting. Northwardly from that huge rim before mentioned, and which, with slightqualification, may be called the limit of human discovery in theseregions, one unbroken, or nearly unbroken, sheet of ice continues toextend. In the first few degrees of this its progress, its surface isvery sensibly flattened, farther on depressed into a plane, and finally, becoming not a little concave, it terminates, at the Pole itself, in acircular centre, sharply defined, whose apparent diameter subtended atthe balloon an angle of about sixty-five seconds, and whose dusky hue, varying in intensity, was, at all times, darker than any other spot uponthe visible hemisphere, and occasionally deepened into the mostabsolute and impenetrable blackness. Farther than this, little couldbe ascertained. By twelve o'clock the circular centre had materiallydecreased in circumference, and by seven P. M. I lost sight of itentirely; the balloon passing over the western limb of the ice, andfloating away rapidly in the direction of the equator. 

"April 8th. Found a sensible diminution in the earth's apparentdiameter, besides a material alteration in its general color andappearance. The whole visible area partook in different degrees of atint of pale yellow, and in some portions had acquired a brilliancy evenpainful to the eye. My view downward was also considerably impeded bythe dense atmosphere in the vicinity of the surface being loaded withclouds, between whose masses I could only now and then obtain a glimpseof the earth itself. This difficulty of direct vision had troubled memore or less for the last forty-eight hours; but my present enormouselevation brought closer together, as it were, the floating bodies ofvapor, and the inconvenience became, of course, more and more palpablein proportion to my ascent. Nevertheless, I could easily perceive thatthe balloon now hovered above the range of great lakes in the continentof North America, and was holding a course, due south, which would bringme to the tropics. This circumstance did not fail to give me the mostheartful satisfaction, and I hailed it as a happy omen of ultimatesuccess. Indeed, the direction I had hitherto taken, had filled me withuneasiness; for it was evident that, had I continued it much longer, there would have been no possibility of my arriving at the moon at all, whose orbit is inclined to the ecliptic at only the small angle of 5degrees 8' 48". 

"April 9th. To-day the earth's diameter was greatly diminished, and thecolor of the surface assumed hourly a deeper tint of yellow. The balloonkept steadily on her course to the southward, and arrived, at nine P. M. , over the northern edge of the Mexican Gulf. 

"April 10th. I was suddenly aroused from slumber, about five o'clockthis morning, by a loud, crackling, and terrific sound, for which Icould in no manner account. It was of very brief duration, but, whileit lasted resembled nothing in the world of which I had any previousexperience. It is needless to say that I became excessively alarmed, having, in the first instance, attributed the noise to the bursting ofthe balloon. I examined all my apparatus, however, with great attention, and could discover nothing out of order. Spent a great part of the dayin meditating upon an occurrence so extraordinary, but could find nomeans whatever of accounting for it. Went to bed dissatisfied, and in astate of great anxiety and agitation. 

"April 11th. Found a startling diminution in the apparent diameter ofthe earth, and a considerable increase, now observable for the firsttime, in that of the moon itself, which wanted only a few days of beingfull. It now required long and excessive labor to condense within thechamber sufficient atmospheric air for the sustenance of life. 

"April 12th. A singular alteration took place in regard to the directionof the balloon, and although fully anticipated, afforded me the mostunequivocal delight. Having reached, in its former course, about thetwentieth parallel of southern latitude, it turned off suddenly, at anacute angle, to the eastward, and thus proceeded throughout the day, keeping nearly, if not altogether, in the exact plane of the lunarelipse. What was worthy of remark, a very perceptible vacillation inthe car was a consequence of this change of route--a vacillation whichprevailed, in a more or less degree, for a period of many hours. 

"April 13th. Was again very much alarmed by a repetition of the loud, crackling noise which terrified me on the tenth. Thought long uponthe subject, but was unable to form any satisfactory conclusion. Greatdecrease in the earth's apparent diameter, which now subtended from theballoon an angle of very little more than twenty-five degrees. The mooncould not be seen at all, being nearly in my zenith. I still continuedin the plane of the elipse, but made little progress to the eastward. 

"April 14th. Extremely rapid decrease in the diameter of the earth. To-day I became strongly impressed with the idea, that the balloon wasnow actually running up the line of apsides to the point of perigee--inother words, holding the direct course which would bring it immediatelyto the moon in that part of its orbit the nearest to the earth. The moonitself was directly overhead, and consequently hidden from my view. Great and long-continued labor necessary for the condensation of theatmosphere. 

"April 15th. Not even the outlines of continents and seas could nowbe traced upon the earth with anything approaching distinctness. Abouttwelve o'clock I became aware, for the third time, of that appallingsound which had so astonished me before. It now, however, continued forsome moments, and gathered intensity as it continued. At length, while, stupefied and terror-stricken, I stood in expectation of I knew not whathideous destruction, the car vibrated with excessive violence, anda gigantic and flaming mass of some material which I could notdistinguish, came with a voice of a thousand thunders, roaring andbooming by the balloon. When my fears and astonishment had in somedegree subsided, I had little difficulty in supposing it to be somemighty volcanic fragment ejected from that world to which I was sorapidly approaching, and, in all probability, one of that singular classof substances occasionally picked up on the earth, and termed meteoricstones for want of a better appellation. 

"April 16th. To-day, looking upward as well as I could, through eachof the side windows alternately, I beheld, to my great delight, a verysmall portion of the moon's disk protruding, as it were, on all sidesbeyond the huge circumference of the balloon. My agitation was extreme;for I had now little doubt of soon reaching the end of my perilousvoyage. Indeed, the labor now required by the condenser had increasedto a most oppressive degree, and allowed me scarcely any respite fromexertion. Sleep was a matter nearly out of the question. I became quiteill, and my frame trembled with exhaustion. It was impossible that humannature could endure this state of intense suffering much longer. Duringthe now brief interval of darkness a meteoric stone again passed in myvicinity, and the frequency of these phenomena began to occasion me muchapprehension. 

"April 17th. This morning proved an epoch in my voyage. It will beremembered that, on the thirteenth, the earth subtended an angularbreadth of twenty-five degrees. On the fourteenth this had greatlydiminished; on the fifteenth a still more remarkable decrease wasobservable; and, on retiring on the night of the sixteenth, I hadnoticed an angle of no more than about seven degrees and fifteenminutes. What, therefore, must have been my amazement, on awakeningfrom a brief and disturbed slumber, on the morning of this day, the seventeenth, at finding the surface beneath me so suddenly andwonderfully augmented in volume, as to subtend no less than thirty-ninedegrees in apparent angular diameter! I was thunderstruck! No wordscan give any adequate idea of the extreme, the absolute horror andastonishment, with which I was seized possessed, and altogetheroverwhelmed. My knees tottered beneath me--my teeth chattered--my hairstarted up on end. "The balloon, then, had actually burst!" These werethe first tumultuous ideas that hurried through my mind: "The balloonhad positively burst!--I was falling--falling with the most impetuous, the most unparalleled velocity! To judge by the immense distance alreadyso quickly passed over, it could not be more than ten minutes, at thefarthest, before I should meet the surface of the earth, and be hurledinto annihilation!" But at length reflection came to my relief. Ipaused; I considered; and I began to doubt. The matter was impossible. I could not in any reason have so rapidly come down. Besides, althoughI was evidently approaching the surface below me, it was with a speedby no means commensurate with the velocity I had at first so horriblyconceived. This consideration served to calm the perturbation of mymind, and I finally succeeded in regarding the phenomenon in its properpoint of view. In fact, amazement must have fairly deprived me of mysenses, when I could not see the vast difference, in appearance, betweenthe surface below me, and the surface of my mother earth. The latterwas indeed over my head, and completely hidden by the balloon, while themoon--the moon itself in all its glory--lay beneath me, and at my feet. 

"The stupor and surprise produced in my mind by this extraordinarychange in the posture of affairs was perhaps, after all, that part ofthe adventure least susceptible of explanation. For the bouleversementin itself was not only natural and inevitable, but had been longactually anticipated as a circumstance to be expected whenever I shouldarrive at that exact point of my voyage where the attraction of theplanet should be superseded by the attraction of the satellite--or, moreprecisely, where the gravitation of the balloon toward the earth shouldbe less powerful than its gravitation toward the moon. To be sure Iarose from a sound slumber, with all my senses in confusion, to thecontemplation of a very startling phenomenon, and one which, althoughexpected, was not expected at the moment. The revolution itself must, ofcourse, have taken place in an easy and gradual manner, and it is by nomeans clear that, had I even been awake at the time of the occurrence, I should have been made aware of it by any internal evidence of aninversion--that is to say, by any inconvenience or disarrangement, either about my person or about my apparatus. 

"It is almost needless to say that, upon coming to a due sense of mysituation, and emerging from the terror which had absorbed every facultyof my soul, my attention was, in the first place, wholly directed tothe contemplation of the general physical appearance of the moon. Itlay beneath me like a chart--and although I judged it to be still at noinconsiderable distance, the indentures of its surface were definedto my vision with a most striking and altogether unaccountabledistinctness. The entire absence of ocean or sea, and indeed of any lakeor river, or body of water whatsoever, struck me, at first glance, asthe most extraordinary feature in its geological condition. Yet, strangeto say, I beheld vast level regions of a character decidedly alluvial, although by far the greater portion of the hemisphere in sight wascovered with innumerable volcanic mountains, conical in shape, andhaving more the appearance of artificial than of natural protuberance. The highest among them does not exceed three and three-quarter milesin perpendicular elevation; but a map of the volcanic districts of theCampi Phlegraei would afford to your Excellencies a better idea of theirgeneral surface than any unworthy description I might think proper toattempt. The greater part of them were in a state of evident eruption, and gave me fearfully to understand their fury and their power, by therepeated thunders of the miscalled meteoric stones, which now rushedupward by the balloon with a frequency more and more appalling. 

"April 18th. To-day I found an enormous increase in the moon's apparentbulk--and the evidently accelerated velocity of my descent began to fillme with alarm. It will be remembered, that, in the earliest stage ofmy speculations upon the possibility of a passage to the moon, theexistence, in its vicinity, of an atmosphere, dense in proportion to thebulk of the planet, had entered largely into my calculations; this tooin spite of many theories to the contrary, and, it may be added, inspite of a general disbelief in the existence of any lunar atmosphere atall. But, in addition to what I have already urged in regard to Encke'scomet and the zodiacal light, I had been strengthened in my opinion bycertain observations of Mr. Schroeter, of Lilienthal. He observed themoon when two days and a half old, in the evening soon after sunset, before the dark part was visible, and continued to watch it until itbecame visible. The two cusps appeared tapering in a very sharp faintprolongation, each exhibiting its farthest extremity faintly illuminatedby the solar rays, before any part of the dark hemisphere wasvisible. Soon afterward, the whole dark limb became illuminated. Thisprolongation of the cusps beyond the semicircle, I thought, must havearisen from the refraction of the sun's rays by the moon's atmosphere. Icomputed, also, the height of the atmosphere (which could refract lightenough into its dark hemisphere to produce a twilight more luminous thanthe light reflected from the earth when the moon is about 32 degreesfrom the new) to be 1, 356 Paris feet; in this view, I supposed thegreatest height capable of refracting the solar ray, to be 5, 376 feet. My ideas on this topic had also received confirmation by a passage inthe eighty-second volume of the Philosophical Transactions, in whichit is stated that at an occultation of Jupiter's satellites, the thirddisappeared after having been about 1" or 2" of time indistinct, and thefourth became indiscernible near the limb. (*4)

"Cassini frequently observed Saturn, Jupiter, and the fixed stars, when approaching the moon to occultation, to have their circular figurechanged into an oval one; and, in other occultations, he found noalteration of figure at all. Hence it might be supposed, that at sometimes and not at others, there is a dense matter encompassing the moonwherein the rays of the stars are refracted. 

"Upon the resistance or, more properly, upon the support of anatmosphere, existing in the state of density imagined, I had, of course, entirely depended for the safety of my ultimate descent. Should I then, after all, prove to have been mistaken, I had in consequence nothingbetter to expect, as a finale to my adventure, than being dashed intoatoms against the rugged surface of the satellite. And, indeed, Ihad now every reason to be terrified. My distance from the moon wascomparatively trifling, while the labor required by the condenser wasdiminished not at all, and I could discover no indication whatever of adecreasing rarity in the air. 

"April 19th. This morning, to my great joy, about nine o'clock, thesurface of the moon being frightfully near, and my apprehensions excitedto the utmost, the pump of my condenser at length gave evident tokensof an alteration in the atmosphere. By ten, I had reason to believeits density considerably increased. By eleven, very little labor wasnecessary at the apparatus; and at twelve o'clock, with some hesitation, I ventured to unscrew the tourniquet, when, finding no inconveniencefrom having done so, I finally threw open the gum-elastic chamber, andunrigged it from around the car. As might have been expected, spasmsand violent headache were the immediate consequences of an experimentso precipitate and full of danger. But these and other difficultiesattending respiration, as they were by no means so great as to put mein peril of my life, I determined to endure as I best could, inconsideration of my leaving them behind me momently in my approachto the denser strata near the moon. This approach, however, was stillimpetuous in the extreme; and it soon became alarmingly certain that, although I had probably not been deceived in the expectation of anatmosphere dense in proportion to the mass of the satellite, still Ihad been wrong in supposing this density, even at the surface, at alladequate to the support of the great weight contained in the car of myballoon. Yet this should have been the case, and in an equal degreeas at the surface of the earth, the actual gravity of bodies at eitherplanet supposed in the ratio of the atmospheric condensation. Thatit was not the case, however, my precipitous downfall gave testimonyenough; why it was not so, can only be explained by a reference to thosepossible geological disturbances to which I have formerly alluded. Atall events I was now close upon the planet, and coming down with themost terrible impetuosity. I lost not a moment, accordingly, in throwingoverboard first my ballast, then my water-kegs, then my condensingapparatus and gum-elastic chamber, and finally every article within thecar. But it was all to no purpose. I still fell with horrible rapidity, and was now not more than half a mile from the surface. As a lastresource, therefore, having got rid of my coat, hat, and boots, I cutloose from the balloon the car itself, which was of no inconsiderableweight, and thus, clinging with both hands to the net-work, I had barelytime to observe that the whole country, as far as the eye could reach, was thickly interspersed with diminutive habitations, ere I tumbledheadlong into the very heart of a fantastical-looking city, and into themiddle of a vast crowd of ugly little people, who none of them uttereda single syllable, or gave themselves the least trouble to render meassistance, but stood, like a parcel of idiots, grinning in a ludicrousmanner, and eyeing me and my balloon askant, with their arms seta-kimbo. I turned from them in contempt, and, gazing upward at the earthso lately left, and left perhaps for ever, beheld it like a huge, dull, copper shield, about two degrees in diameter, fixed immovably in theheavens overhead, and tipped on one of its edges with a crescentborder of the most brilliant gold. No traces of land or water could bediscovered, and the whole was clouded with variable spots, and beltedwith tropical and equatorial zones. 

"Thus, may it please your Excellencies, after a series of greatanxieties, unheard of dangers, and unparalleled escapes, I had, atlength, on the nineteenth day of my departure from Rotterdam, arrived insafety at the conclusion of a voyage undoubtedly the most extraordinary, and the most momentous, ever accomplished, undertaken, or conceived byany denizen of earth. But my adventures yet remain to be related. Andindeed your Excellencies may well imagine that, after a residence offive years upon a planet not only deeply interesting in its own peculiarcharacter, but rendered doubly so by its intimate connection, incapacity of satellite, with the world inhabited by man, I may haveintelligence for the private ear of the States' College of Astronomersof far more importance than the details, however wonderful, of the merevoyage which so happily concluded. This is, in fact, the case. Ihave much--very much which it would give me the greatest pleasure tocommunicate. I have much to say of the climate of the planet; of itswonderful alternations of heat and cold, of unmitigated and burningsunshine for one fortnight, and more than polar frigidity for the next;of a constant transfer of moisture, by distillation like that in vacuo, from the point beneath the sun to the point the farthest from it; ofa variable zone of running water, of the people themselves; of theirmanners, customs, and political institutions; of their peculiar physicalconstruction; of their ugliness; of their want of ears, those uselessappendages in an atmosphere so peculiarly modified; of their consequentignorance of the use and properties of speech; of their substitutefor speech in a singular method of inter-communication; of theincomprehensible connection between each particular individual inthe moon with some particular individual on the earth--a connectionanalogous with, and depending upon, that of the orbs of the planet andthe satellites, and by means of which the lives and destinies of theinhabitants of the one are interwoven with the lives and destiniesof the inhabitants of the other; and above all, if it so please yourExcellencies--above all, of those dark and hideous mysteries which liein the outer regions of the moon--regions which, owing to the almostmiraculous accordance of the satellite's rotation on its own axis withits sidereal revolution about the earth, have never yet been turned, and, by God's mercy, never shall be turned, to the scrutiny of thetelescopes of man. All this, and more--much more--would I mostwillingly detail. But, to be brief, I must have my reward. I am piningfor a return to my family and to my home, and as the price of anyfarther communication on my part--in consideration of the light whichI have it in my power to throw upon many very important branches ofphysical and metaphysical science--I must solicit, through the influenceof your honorable body, a pardon for the crime of which I have beenguilty in the death of the creditors upon my departure from Rotterdam. This, then, is the object of the present paper. Its bearer, aninhabitant of the moon, whom I have prevailed upon, and properlyinstructed, to be my messenger to the earth, will await yourExcellencies' pleasure, and return to me with the pardon in question, ifit can, in any manner, be obtained. 

"I have the honor to be, etc. , your Excellencies' very humble servant, "HANS PFAALL. "

Upon finishing the perusal of this very extraordinary document, Professor Rub-a-dub, it is said, dropped his pipe upon the ground inthe extremity of his surprise, and Mynheer Superbus Von Underduk havingtaken off his spectacles, wiped them, and deposited them in his pocket, so far forgot both himself and his dignity, as to turn round three timesupon his heel in the quintessence of astonishment and admiration. Therewas no doubt about the matter--the pardon should be obtained. So atleast swore, with a round oath, Professor Rub-a-dub, and so finallythought the illustrious Von Underduk, as he took the arm of his brotherin science, and without saying a word, began to make the best of his wayhome to deliberate upon the measures to be adopted. Having reached thedoor, however, of the burgomaster's dwelling, the professor ventured tosuggest that as the messenger had thought proper to disappear--nodoubt frightened to death by the savage appearance of the burghers ofRotterdam--the pardon would be of little use, as no one but a man ofthe moon would undertake a voyage to so vast a distance. To the truth ofthis observation the burgomaster assented, and the matter was thereforeat an end. Not so, however, rumors and speculations. The letter, havingbeen published, gave rise to a variety of gossip and opinion. Some ofthe over-wise even made themselves ridiculous by decrying the wholebusiness; as nothing better than a hoax. But hoax, with these sortof people, is, I believe, a general term for all matters above theircomprehension. For my part, I cannot conceive upon what data they havefounded such an accusation. Let us see what they say:

Imprimus. That certain wags in Rotterdam have certain especialantipathies to certain burgomasters and astronomers. 

Don't understand at all. 

Secondly. That an odd little dwarf and bottle conjurer, both of whoseears, for some misdemeanor, have been cut off close to his head, hasbeen missing for several days from the neighboring city of Bruges. 

Well--what of that?

Thirdly. That the newspapers which were stuck all over the littleballoon were newspapers of Holland, and therefore could not have beenmade in the moon. They were dirty papers--very dirty--and Gluck, theprinter, would take his Bible oath to their having been printed inRotterdam. 

He was mistaken--undoubtedly--mistaken. 

Fourthly, That Hans Pfaall himself, the drunken villain, and the threevery idle gentlemen styled his creditors, were all seen, no longer thantwo or three days ago, in a tippling house in the suburbs, having justreturned, with money in their pockets, from a trip beyond the sea. 

Don't believe it--don't believe a word of it. 

Lastly. That it is an opinion very generally received, or which oughtto be generally received, that the College of Astronomers in the cityof Rotterdam, as well as other colleges in all other parts of theworld, --not to mention colleges and astronomers in general, --are, to saythe least of the matter, not a whit better, nor greater, nor wiser thanthey ought to be. 

~~~ End of Text ~~~

Notes to Hans Pfaal

(*1) NOTE--Strictly speaking, there is but little similarity between theabove sketchy trifle and the celebrated "Moon-Story" of Mr. Locke; butas both have the character of _hoaxes _(although the one is in a tone ofbanter, the other of downright earnest), and as both hoaxes are on thesame subject, the moon--moreover, as both attempt to give plausibilityby scientific detail--the author of "Hans Pfaall" thinks it necessary tosay, in _self-defence, _that his own _jeu d'esprit _was published in the"Southern Literary Messenger" about three weeks before the commencementof Mr. L's in the "New York Sun. " Fancying a likeness which, perhaps, does not exist, some of the New York papers copied "Hans Pfaall, " andcollated it with the "Moon-Hoax, " by way of detecting the writer of theone in the writer of the other. 

As many more persons were actually gulled by the "Moon-Hoax" than wouldbe willing to acknowledge the fact, it may here afford some littleamusement to show why no one should have been deceived-to point outthose particulars of the story which should have been sufficient toestablish its real character. Indeed, however rich the imaginationdisplayed in this ingenious fiction, it wanted much of the force whichmight have been given it by a more scrupulous attention to facts andto general analogy. That the public were misled, even for an instant, merely proves the gross ignorance which is so generally prevalent uponsubjects of an astronomical nature. 

The moon's distance from the earth is, in round numbers, 240, 000 miles. If we desire to ascertain how near, apparently, a lens would bring thesatellite (or any distant object), we, of course, have but to divide thedistance by the magnifying or, more strictly, by the space-penetratingpower of the glass. Mr. L. Makes his lens have a power of 42, 000 times. By this divide 240, 000 (the moon's real distance), and we have fivemiles and five sevenths, as the apparent distance. No animal at allcould be seen so far; much less the minute points particularized in thestory. Mr. L. Speaks about Sir John Herschel's perceiving flowers (thePapaver rheas, etc. ), and even detecting the color and the shape of theeyes of small birds. Shortly before, too, he has himself observed thatthe lens would not render perceptible objects of less than eighteeninches in diameter; but even this, as I have said, is giving the glassby far too great power. It may be observed, in passing, that thisprodigious glass is said to have been molded at the glasshouse ofMessrs. Hartley and Grant, in Dumbarton; but Messrs. H. And G. 'sestablishment had ceased operations for many years previous to thepublication of the hoax. 

On page 13, pamphlet edition, speaking of "a hairy veil" over the eyesof a species of bison, the author says: "It immediately occurred to theacute mind of Dr. Herschel that this was a providential contrivanceto protect the eyes of the animal from the great extremes of lightand darkness to which all the inhabitants of our side of the moon areperiodically subjected. " But this cannot be thought a very "acute"observation of the Doctor's. The inhabitants of our side of the moonhave, evidently, no darkness at all, so there can be nothing of the"extremes" mentioned. In the absence of the sun they have a light fromthe earth equal to that of thirteen full unclouded moons. 

The topography throughout, even when professing to accord with Blunt'sLunar Chart, is entirely at variance with that or any other lunar chart, and even grossly at variance with itself. The points of the compass, too, are in inextricable confusion; the writer appearing to be ignorantthat, on a lunar map, these are not in accordance with terrestrialpoints; the east being to the left, etc. 

Deceived, perhaps, by the vague titles, Mare Nubium, MareTranquillitatis, Mare Faecunditatis, etc. , given to the dark spots byformer astronomers, Mr. L. Has entered into details regarding oceansand other large bodies of water in the moon; whereas there is noastronomical point more positively ascertained than that no such bodiesexist there. In examining the boundary between light and darkness (inthe crescent or gibbous moon) where this boundary crosses any of thedark places, the line of division is found to be rough and jagged; but, were these dark places liquid, it would evidently be even. 

The description of the wings of the man-bat, on page 21, is but aliteral copy of Peter Wilkins' account of the wings of his flyingislanders. This simple fact should have induced suspicion, at least, itmight be thought. 

On page 23, we have the following: "What a prodigious influence must ourthirteen times larger globe have exercised upon this satellite when anembryo in the womb of time, the passive subject of chemical affinity!"This is very fine; but it should be observed that no astronomer wouldhave made such remark, especially to any journal of Science; for theearth, in the sense intended, is not only thirteen, but forty-nine timeslarger than the moon. A similar objection applies to the whole of theconcluding pages, where, by way of introduction to some discoveries inSaturn, the philosophical correspondent enters into a minute schoolboyaccount of that planet--this to the "Edinburgh journal of Science!"

But there is one point, in particular, which should have betrayed thefiction. Let us imagine the power actually possessed of seeing animalsupon the moon's surface--what would first arrest the attention of anobserver from the earth? Certainly neither their shape, size, nor anyother such peculiarity, so soon as their remarkable _situation_. Theywould appear to be walking, with heels up and head down, in the mannerof flies on a ceiling. The _real_ observer would have uttered an instantejaculation of surprise (however prepared by previous knowledge) at thesingularity of their position; the _fictitious_ observer has not evenmentioned the subject, but speaks of seeing the entire bodies of suchcreatures, when it is demonstrable that he could have seen only thediameter of their heads!

It might as well be remarked, in conclusion, that the size, andparticularly the powers of the man-bats (for example, their ability tofly in so rare an atmosphere--if, indeed, the moon have any), with mostof the other fancies in regard to animal and vegetable existence, are atvariance, generally, with all analogical reasoning on these themes; andthat analogy here will often amount to conclusive demonstration. It is, perhaps, scarcely necessary to add, that all the suggestions attributedto Brewster and Herschel, in the beginning of the article, about "atransfusion of artificial light through the focal object of vision, "etc. , etc. , belong to that species of figurative writing which comes, most properly, under the denomination of rigmarole. 

There is a real and very definite limit to optical discovery among thestars--a limit whose nature need only be stated to be understood. If, indeed, the casting of large lenses were all that is required, man'singenuity would ultimately prove equal to the task, and we might havethem of any size demanded. But, unhappily, in proportion to the increaseof size in the lens, and consequently of space-penetrating power, is thediminution of light from the object, by diffusion of its rays. And forthis evil there is no remedy within human ability; for an object is seenby means of that light alone which proceeds from itself, whether director reflected. Thus the only "artificial" light which could availMr. Locke, would be some artificial light which he should be able tothrow-not upon the "focal object of vision, " but upon the real objectto be viewed-to wit: upon the moon. It has been easily calculated that, when the light proceeding from a star becomes so diffused as to be asweak as the natural light proceeding from the whole of the stars, ina clear and moonless night, then the star is no longer visible for anypractical purpose. 

The Earl of Ross's telescope, lately constructed in England, hasa _speculum_ with a reflecting surface of 4, 071 square inches; theHerschel telescope having one of only 1, 811. The metal of the Earl ofRoss's is 6 feet diameter; it is 5 1/2 inches thick at the edges, and 5at the centre. The weight is 3 tons. The focal length is 50 feet. 

I have lately read a singular and somewhat ingenious little book, whosetitle-page runs thus: "L'Homme dans la lvne ou le Voyage Chimeriquefait au Monde de la Lvne, nouellement decouvert par Dominique Gonzales, Aduanturier Espagnol, autremét dit le Courier volant. Mis en notrelangve par J. B. D. A. Paris, chez Francois Piot, pres la Fontaine deSaint Benoist. Et chez J. Goignard, au premier pilier de la grand'salledu Palais, proche les Consultations, MDCXLVII. " Pp. 76. 

The writer professes to have translated his work from the English of oneMr. D'Avisson (Davidson?) although there is a terrible ambiguity in thestatement. "J' en ai eu, " says he "l'original de Monsieur D'Avisson, medecin des mieux versez qui soient aujourd'huy dans la cònoissance desBelles Lettres, et sur tout de la Philosophic Naturelle. Je lui ai cetteobligation entre les autres, de m' auoir non seulement mis en maincc Livre en anglois, mais encore le Manuscrit du Sieur Thomas D'Anan, gentilhomme Eccossois, recommandable pour sa vertu, sur la versionduquel j' advoue que j' ay tiré le plan de la mienne. "

After some irrelevant adventures, much in the manner of Gil Blas, andwhich occupy the first thirty pages, the author relates that, beingill during a sea voyage, the crew abandoned him, together with anegro servant, on the island of St. Helena. To increase the chances ofobtaining food, the two separate, and live as far apart as possible. This brings about a training of birds, to serve the purpose ofcarrier-pigeons between them. By and by these are taught to carryparcels of some weight-and this weight is gradually increased. At lengththe idea is entertained of uniting the force of a great number of thebirds, with a view to raising the author himself. A machine is contrivedfor the purpose, and we have a minute description of it, which ismaterially helped out by a steel engraving. Here we perceive theSignor Gonzales, with point ruffles and a huge periwig, seated astridesomething which resembles very closely a broomstick, and borne aloft bya multitude of wild swans _(ganzas) _who had strings reaching from theirtails to the machine. 

The main event detailed in the Signor's narrative depends upon a veryimportant fact, of which the reader is kept in ignorance until near theend of the book. The _ganzas, _with whom he had become so familiar, werenot really denizens of St. Helena, but of the moon. Thence it had beentheir custom, time out of mind, to migrate annually to some portion ofthe earth. In proper season, of course, they would return home; andthe author, happening, one day, to require their services for a shortvoyage, is unexpectedly carried straight tip, and in a very brief periodarrives at the satellite. Here he finds, among other odd things, thatthe people enjoy extreme happiness; that they have no _law; _that theydie without pain; that they are from ten to thirty feet in height;that they live five thousand years; that they have an emperor calledIrdonozur; and that they can jump sixty feet high, when, being out ofthe gravitating influence, they fly about with fans. 

I cannot forbear giving a specimen of the general _philosophy _of thevolume. 

"I must not forget here, that the stars appeared only on that side ofthe globe turned toward the moon, and that the closer they were to itthe larger they seemed. I have also me and the earth. As to thestars, _since there was no night where I was, they always had the sameappearance; not brilliant, as usual, but pale, and very nearly like themoon of a morning. _But few of them were visible, and these ten timeslarger (as well as I could judge) than they seem to the inhabitantsof the earth. The moon, which wanted two days of being full, was of aterrible bigness. 

 "I must not forget here, that the stars appeared only on that sideof the globe turned toward the moon, and that the closer they were to itthe larger they seemed. I have also to inform you that, whether it wascalm weather or stormy, I found myself _always immediately between themoon and the earth. _ I_ _was convinced of this for two reasons-becausemy birds always flew in a straight line; and because whenever weattempted to rest, _we were carried insensibly around the globe of theearth. _For I admit the opinion of Copernicus, who maintains that itnever ceases to revolve _from the east to the west, _not upon the polesof the Equinoctial, commonly called the poles of the world, but uponthose of the Zodiac, a question of which I propose to speak more atlength here-after, when I shall have leisure to refresh my memory inregard to the astrology which I learned at Salamanca when young, andhave since forgotten. "

Notwithstanding the blunders italicized, the book is not withoutsome claim to attention, as affording a naive specimen of the currentastronomical notions of the time. One of these assumed, that the"gravitating power" extended but a short distance from the earth'ssurface, and, accordingly, we find our voyager "carried insensiblyaround the globe, " etc. 

There have been other "voyages to the moon, " but none of higher meritthan the one just mentioned. That of Bergerac is utterly meaningless. Inthe third volume of the "American Quarterly Review" will be foundquite an elaborate criticism upon a certain "journey" of the kind inquestion--a criticism in which it is difficult to say whether the criticmost exposes the stupidity of the book, or his own absurd ignorance ofastronomy. I forget the title of the work; but the _means _of the voyageare more deplorably ill conceived than are even the _ganzas _of ourfriend the Signor Gonzales. The adventurer, in digging the earth, happens to discover a peculiar metal for which the moon has a strongattraction, and straightway constructs of it a box, which, when castloose from its terrestrial fastenings, flies with him, forthwith, tothe satellite. The "Flight of Thomas O'Rourke, " is a _jeu d' esprit _notaltogether contemptible, and has been translated into German. Thomas, the hero, was, in fact, the gamekeeper of an Irish peer, whoseeccentricities gave rise to the tale. The "flight" is made on an eagle'sback, from Hungry Hill, a lofty mountain at the end of Bantry Bay. 

In these various _brochures _the aim is always satirical; the themebeing a description of Lunarian customs as compared with ours. In noneis there any effort at _plausibility _in the details of the voyageitself. The writers seem, in each instance, to be utterly uninformed inrespect to astronomy. In "Hans Pfaall" the design is original, inasmuchas regards an attempt at _verisimilitude, _in the application ofscientific principles (so far as the whimsical nature of the subjectwould permit), to the actual passage between the earth and the moon. 

(*2) The zodiacal light is probably what the ancients called Trabes. Emicant Trabes quos docos vocant. --Pliny, lib. 2, p. 26. 

(*3) Since the original publication of Hans Pfaall, I find that Mr. Green, of Nassau balloon notoriety, and other late aeronauts, denythe assertions of Humboldt, in this respect, and speak of a decreasinginconvenience, --precisely in accordance with the theory here urged in amere spirit of banter. 

(*4) Havelius writes that he has several times found, in skiesperfectly clear, when even stars of the sixth and seventh magnitudewere conspicuous, that, at the same altitude of the moon, at thesame elongation from the earth, and with one and the same excellenttelescope, the moon and its maculae did not appear equally lucid at alltimes. From the circumstances of the observation, it is evident that thecause of this phenomenon is not either in our air, in the tube, inthe moon, or in the eye of the spectator, but must be looked for insomething (an atmosphere?) existing about the moon. 

THE GOLD-BUG

 What ho! what ho! this fellow is dancing mad!

 He hath been bitten by the Tarantula. 

 _--All in the Wrong. _

MANY years ago, I contracted an intimacy with a Mr. William Legrand. He was of an ancient Huguenot family, and had once been wealthy; buta series of misfortunes had reduced him to want. To avoid themortification consequent upon his disasters, he left New Orleans, thecity of his forefathers, and took up his residence at Sullivan's Island, near Charleston, South Carolina. This Island is a very singular one. It consists of little else than the sea sand, and is about threemiles long. Its breadth at no point exceeds a quarter of a mile. It isseparated from the main land by a scarcely perceptible creek, oozing itsway through a wilderness of reeds and slime, a favorite resort of themarsh hen. The vegetation, as might be supposed, is scant, or at leastdwarfish. No trees of any magnitude are to be seen. Near the westernextremity, where Fort Moultrie stands, and where are some miserableframe buildings, tenanted, during summer, by the fugitives fromCharleston dust and fever, may be found, indeed, the bristly palmetto;but the whole island, with the exception of this western point, anda line of hard, white beach on the seacoast, is covered with a denseundergrowth of the sweet myrtle, so much prized by the horticulturistsof England. The shrub here often attains the height of fifteen or twentyfeet, and forms an almost impenetrable coppice, burthening the air withits fragrance. 

In the inmost recesses of this coppice, not far from the eastern or moreremote end of the island, Legrand had built himself a small hut, whichhe occupied when I first, by mere accident, made his acquaintance. This soon ripened into friendship--for there was much in the recluseto excite interest and esteem. I found him well educated, with unusualpowers of mind, but infected with misanthropy, and subject to perversemoods of alternate enthusiasm and melancholy. He had with him manybooks, but rarely employed them. His chief amusements were gunning andfishing, or sauntering along the beach and through the myrtles, in questof shells or entomological specimens;--his collection of the lattermight have been envied by a Swammerdamm. In these excursions he wasusually accompanied by an old negro, called Jupiter, who had beenmanumitted before the reverses of the family, but who could be induced, neither by threats nor by promises, to abandon what he considered hisright of attendance upon the footsteps of his young "Massa Will. " Itis not improbable that the relatives of Legrand, conceiving him to besomewhat unsettled in intellect, had contrived to instil this obstinacyinto Jupiter, with a view to the supervision and guardianship of thewanderer. 

The winters in the latitude of Sullivan's Island are seldom very severe, and in the fall of the year it is a rare event indeed when a fire isconsidered necessary. About the middle of October, 18-, there occurred, however, a day of remarkable chilliness. Just before sunset I scrambledmy way through the evergreens to the hut of my friend, whom I hadnot visited for several weeks--my residence being, at that time, in Charleston, a distance of nine miles from the Island, while thefacilities of passage and re-passage were very far behind those ofthe present day. Upon reaching the hut I rapped, as was my custom, and getting no reply, sought for the key where I knew it was secreted, unlocked the door and went in. A fine fire was blazing upon the hearth. It was a novelty, and by no means an ungrateful one. I threw off anovercoat, took an arm-chair by the crackling logs, and awaited patientlythe arrival of my hosts. 

Soon after dark they arrived, and gave me a most cordial welcome. Jupiter, grinning from ear to ear, bustled about to prepare somemarsh-hens for supper. Legrand was in one of his fits--how else shallI term them?--of enthusiasm. He had found an unknown bivalve, forminga new genus, and, more than this, he had hunted down and secured, withJupiter's assistance, a scarabæus which he believed to be totally new, but in respect to which he wished to have my opinion on the morrow. 

"And why not to-night?" I asked, rubbing my hands over the blaze, andwishing the whole tribe of scarabæi at the devil. 

"Ah, if I had only known you were here!" said Legrand, "but it's so longsince I saw you; and how could I foresee that you would pay me a visitthis very night of all others? As I was coming home I met LieutenantG--, from the fort, and, very foolishly, I lent him the bug; so it willbe impossible for you to see it until the morning. Stay here to-night, and I will send Jup down for it at sunrise. It is the loveliest thing increation!"

"What?--sunrise?"

"Nonsense! no!--the bug. It is of a brilliant gold color--about the sizeof a large hickory-nut--with two jet black spots near one extremity ofthe back, and another, somewhat longer, at the other. The antennæ are--"

"Dey aint no tin in him, Massa Will, I keep a tellin on you, " hereinterrupted Jupiter; "de bug is a goole bug, solid, ebery bit of him, inside and all, sep him wing--neber feel half so hebby a bug in mylife. "

"Well, suppose it is, Jup, " replied Legrand, somewhat more earnestly, it seemed to me, than the case demanded, "is that any reason for yourletting the birds burn? The color"--here he turned to me--"is reallyalmost enough to warrant Jupiter's idea. You never saw a more brilliantmetallic lustre than the scales emit--but of this you cannot judgetill tomorrow. In the mean time I can give you some idea of the shape. "Saying this, he seated himself at a small table, on which were a pen andink, but no paper. He looked for some in a drawer, but found none. 

"Never mind, " said he at length, "this will answer;" and he drew fromhis waistcoat pocket a scrap of what I took to be very dirty foolscap, and made upon it a rough drawing with the pen. While he did this, Iretained my seat by the fire, for I was still chilly. When the designwas complete, he handed it to me without rising. As I received it, aloud growl was heard, succeeded by a scratching at the door. Jupiteropened it, and a large Newfoundland, belonging to Legrand, rushed in, leaped upon my shoulders, and loaded me with caresses; for I had shownhim much attention during previous visits. When his gambols were over, Ilooked at the paper, and, to speak the truth, found myself not a littlepuzzled at what my friend had depicted. 

"Well!" I said, after contemplating it for some minutes, "this is astrange scarabæus, I must confess: new to me: never saw anything like itbefore--unless it was a skull, or a death's-head--which it more nearlyresembles than anything else that has come under my observation. "

"A death's-head!" echoed Legrand--"Oh--yes--well, it has something ofthat appearance upon paper, no doubt. The two upper black spots looklike eyes, eh? and the longer one at the bottom like a mouth--and thenthe shape of the whole is oval. "

"Perhaps so, " said I; "but, Legrand, I fear you are no artist. I mustwait until I see the beetle itself, if I am to form any idea of itspersonal appearance. "

"Well, I don't know, " said he, a little nettled, "I drawtolerably--should do it at least--have had good masters, and flattermyself that I am not quite a blockhead. "

"But, my dear fellow, you are joking then, " said I, "this is a verypassable skull--indeed, I may say that it is a very excellent skull, according to the vulgar notions about such specimens of physiology--andyour scarabæus must be the queerest scarabæus in the world if itresembles it. Why, we may get up a very thrilling bit of superstitionupon this hint. I presume you will call the bug scarabæus caput hominis, or something of that kind--there are many similar titles in the NaturalHistories. But where are the antennæ you spoke of?"

"The antennæ!" said Legrand, who seemed to be getting unaccountably warmupon the subject; "I am sure you must see the antennæ. I made themas distinct as they are in the original insect, and I presume that issufficient. "

"Well, well, " I said, "perhaps you have--still I don't see them;" andI handed him the paper without additional remark, not wishing to rufflehis temper; but I was much surprised at the turn affairs had taken; hisill humor puzzled me--and, as for the drawing of the beetle, therewere positively no antennæ visible, and the whole did bear a very closeresemblance to the ordinary cuts of a death's-head. 

He received the paper very peevishly, and was about to crumple it, apparently to throw it in the fire, when a casual glance at the designseemed suddenly to rivet his attention. In an instant his face grewviolently red--in another as excessively pale. For some minutes hecontinued to scrutinize the drawing minutely where he sat. At length hearose, took a candle from the table, and proceeded to seat himself upona sea-chest in the farthest corner of the room. Here again he made ananxious examination of the paper; turning it in all directions. He saidnothing, however, and his conduct greatly astonished me; yet I thoughtit prudent not to exacerbate the growing moodiness of his temper by anycomment. Presently he took from his coat pocket a wallet, placed thepaper carefully in it, and deposited both in a writing-desk, which helocked. He now grew more composed in his demeanor; but his original airof enthusiasm had quite disappeared. Yet he seemed not so much sulky asabstracted. As the evening wore away he became more and more absorbed inreverie, from which no sallies of mine could arouse him. It had been myintention to pass the night at the hut, as I had frequently done before, but, seeing my host in this mood, I deemed it proper to take leave. Hedid not press me to remain, but, as I departed, he shook my hand witheven more than his usual cordiality. 

It was about a month after this (and during the interval I had seennothing of Legrand) when I received a visit, at Charleston, from hisman, Jupiter. I had never seen the good old negro look so dispirited, and I feared that some serious disaster had befallen my friend. 

"Well, Jup, " said I, "what is the matter now?--how is your master?"

"Why, to speak de troof, massa, him not so berry well as mought be. "

"Not well! I am truly sorry to hear it. What does he complain of?"

"Dar! dat's it!--him neber plain of notin--but him berry sick for alldat. "

"Very sick, Jupiter!--why didn't you say so at once? Is he confined tobed?"

"No, dat he aint!--he aint find nowhar--dat's just whar de shoepinch--my mind is got to be berry hebby bout poor Massa Will. "

"Jupiter, I should like to understand what it is you are talking about. You say your master is sick. Hasn't he told you what ails him?"

"Why, massa, taint worf while for to git mad about de matter--MassaWill say noffin at all aint de matter wid him--but den what make him goabout looking dis here way, wid he head down and he soldiers up, and aswhite as a gose? And den he keep a syphon all de time--"

"Keeps a what, Jupiter?"

"Keeps a syphon wid de figgurs on de slate--de queerest figgurs I ebberdid see. Ise gittin to be skeered, I tell you. Hab for to keep mightytight eye pon him noovers. Todder day he gib me slip fore de sun up andwas gone de whole ob de blessed day. I had a big stick ready cut for togib him deuced good beating when he did come--but Ise sich a fool dat Ihadn't de heart arter all--he look so berry poorly. "

"Eh?--what?--ah yes!--upon the whole I think you had better not be toosevere with the poor fellow--don't flog him, Jupiter--he can't very wellstand it--but can you form no idea of what has occasioned this illness, or rather this change of conduct? Has anything unpleasant happened sinceI saw you?"

"No, massa, dey aint bin noffin unpleasant since den--'twas fore den I'mfeared--'twas de berry day you was dare. "

"How? what do you mean?"

"Why, massa, I mean de bug--dare now. "

"The what?"

"De bug, --I'm berry sartain dat Massa Will bin bit somewhere bout dehead by dat goole-bug. "

"And what cause have you, Jupiter, for such a supposition?"

"Claws enuff, massa, and mouth too. I nebber did see sick a deucedbug--he kick and he bite ebery ting what cum near him. Massa Will cotchhim fuss, but had for to let him go gin mighty quick, I tell you--denwas de time he must ha got de bite. I did n't like de look oh de bugmouff, myself, no how, so I would n't take hold ob him wid my finger, but I cotch him wid a piece ob paper dat I found. I rap him up in depaper and stuff piece ob it in he mouff--dat was de way. "

"And you think, then, that your master was really bitten by the beetle, and that the bite made him sick?"

"I do n't tink noffin about it--I nose it. What make him dream bout degoole so much, if taint cause he bit by de goole-bug? Ise heerd bout demgoole-bugs fore dis. "

"But how do you know he dreams about gold?"

"How I know? why cause he talk about it in he sleep--dat's how I nose. "

"Well, Jup, perhaps you are right; but to what fortunate circumstance amI to attribute the honor of a visit from you to-day?"

"What de matter, massa?"

"Did you bring any message from Mr. Legrand?"

"No, massa, I bring dis here pissel;" and here Jupiter handed me a notewhich ran thus:

 MY DEAR ----

Why have I not seen you for so long a time? I hope you have not been sofoolish as to take offence at any little _brusquerie_ of mine; but no, that is improbable. Since I saw you I have had great cause for anxiety. I have something to tell you, yet scarcely know how to tell it, orwhether I should tell it at all. 

I have not been quite well for some days past, and poor old Jup annoysme, almost beyond endurance, by his well-meant attentions Would youbelieve it?--he had prepared a huge stick, the other day, with whichto chastise me for giving him the slip, and spending the day, _solus_, among the hills on the main land. I verily believe that my ill looksalone saved me a flogging. 

I have made no addition to my cabinet since we met. 

If you can, in any way, make it convenient, come over with Jupiter. _Do_ come. I wish to see you to-_night_, upon business of importance. Iassure you that it is of the _highest_ importance. 

 Ever yours, WILLIAM LEGRAND. 

There was something in the tone of this note which gave me greatuneasiness. Its whole style differed materially from that of Legrand. What could he be dreaming of? What new crotchet possessed his excitablebrain? What "business of the highest importance" could he possibly haveto transact? Jupiter's account of him boded no good. I dreaded lest thecontinued pressure of misfortune had, at length, fairly unsettledthe reason of my friend. Without a moment's hesitation, therefore, Iprepared to accompany the negro. 

Upon reaching the wharf, I noticed a scythe and three spades, allapparently new, lying in the bottom of the boat in which we were toembark. 

"What is the meaning of all this, Jup?" I inquired. 

"Him syfe, massa, and spade. "

"Very true; but what are they doing here?"

"Him de syfe and de spade what Massa Will sis pon my buying for him inde town, and de debbils own lot of money I had to gib for em. "

"But what, in the name of all that is mysterious, is your 'Massa Will'going to do with scythes and spades?"

"Dat's more dan I know, and debbil take me if I don't blieve 'tis moredan he know, too. But it's all cum ob do bug. "

Finding that no satisfaction was to be obtained of Jupiter, whose wholeintellect seemed to be absorbed by "de bug, " I now stepped into the boatand made sail. With a fair and strong breeze we soon ran into the littlecove to the northward of Fort Moultrie, and a walk of some two milesbrought us to the hut. It was about three in the afternoon when wearrived. Legrand had been awaiting us in eager expectation. He graspedmy hand with a nervous empressement which alarmed me and strengthenedthe suspicions already entertained. His countenance was pale even toghastliness, and his deep-set eyes glared with unnatural lustre. Aftersome inquiries respecting his health, I asked him, not knowing whatbetter to say, if he had yet obtained the scarabæus from LieutenantG ----. 

"Oh, yes, " he replied, coloring violently, "I got it from him the nextmorning. Nothing should tempt me to part with that scarabæus. Do youknow that Jupiter is quite right about it?"

"In what way?" I asked, with a sad foreboding at heart. 

"In supposing it to be a bug of real gold. " He said this with an air ofprofound seriousness, and I felt inexpressibly shocked. 

"This bug is to make my fortune, " he continued, with a triumphant smile, "to reinstate me in my family possessions. Is it any wonder, then, thatI prize it? Since Fortune has thought fit to bestow it upon me, I haveonly to use it properly and I shall arrive at the gold of which it isthe index. Jupiter; bring me that scarabæus!"

"What! de bug, massa? I'd rudder not go fer trubble dat bug--you mus githim for your own self. " Hereupon Legrand arose, with a grave andstately air, and brought me the beetle from a glass case in which it wasenclosed. It was a beautiful scarabæus, and, at that time, unknown tonaturalists--of course a great prize in a scientific point of view. There were two round, black spots near one extremity of the back, anda long one near the other. The scales were exceedingly hard and glossy, with all the appearance of burnished gold. The weight of the insectwas very remarkable, and, taking all things into consideration, I couldhardly blame Jupiter for his opinion respecting it; but what to make ofLegrand's concordance with that opinion, I could not, for the life ofme, tell. 

"I sent for you, " said he, in a grandiloquent tone, when I had completedmy examination of the beetle, "I sent for you, that I might have yourcounsel and assistance in furthering the views of Fate and of the bug"--

"My dear Legrand, " I cried, interrupting him, "you are certainly unwell, and had better use some little precautions. You shall go to bed, andI will remain with you a few days, until you get over this. You arefeverish and"--

"Feel my pulse, " said he. 

I felt it, and, to say the truth, found not the slightest indication offever. 

"But you may be ill and yet have no fever. Allow me this once toprescribe for you. In the first place, go to bed. In the next"--

"You are mistaken, " he interposed, "I am as well as I can expect to beunder the excitement which I suffer. If you really wish me well, youwill relieve this excitement. "

"And how is this to be done?"

"Very easily. Jupiter and myself are going upon an expedition into thehills, upon the main land, and, in this expedition we shall need theaid of some person in whom we can confide. You are the only one we cantrust. Whether we succeed or fail, the excitement which you now perceivein me will be equally allayed. "

"I am anxious to oblige you in any way, " I replied; "but do you mean tosay that this infernal beetle has any connection with your expeditioninto the hills?"

"It has. "

"Then, Legrand, I can become a party to no such absurd proceeding. "

"I am sorry--very sorry--for we shall have to try it by ourselves. "

"Try it by yourselves! The man is surely mad!--but stay!--how long doyou propose to be absent?"

"Probably all night. We shall start immediately, and be back, at allevents, by sunrise. "

"And will you promise me, upon your honor, that when this freak of yoursis over, and the bug business (good God!) settled to your satisfaction, you will then return home and follow my advice implicitly, as that ofyour physician?"

"Yes; I promise; and now let us be off, for we have no time to lose. "

With a heavy heart I accompanied my friend. We started about fouro'clock--Legrand, Jupiter, the dog, and myself. Jupiter had with him thescythe and spades--the whole of which he insisted upon carrying--morethrough fear, it seemed to me, of trusting either of the implementswithin reach of his master, than from any excess of industry orcomplaisance. His demeanor was dogged in the extreme, and "dat deucedbug" were the sole words which escaped his lips during the journey. Formy own part, I had charge of a couple of dark lanterns, while Legrandcontented himself with the scarabæus, which he carried attached to theend of a bit of whip-cord; twirling it to and fro, with the air of aconjuror, as he went. When I observed this last, plain evidence of myfriend's aberration of mind, I could scarcely refrain from tears. Ithought it best, however, to humor his fancy, at least for the present, or until I could adopt some more energetic measures with a chance ofsuccess. In the mean time I endeavored, but all in vain, to sound him inregard to the object of the expedition. Having succeeded in inducingme to accompany him, he seemed unwilling to hold conversation upon anytopic of minor importance, and to all my questions vouchsafed no otherreply than "we shall see!"

We crossed the creek at the head of the island by means of a skiff; and, ascending the high grounds on the shore of the main land, proceeded in anorthwesterly direction, through a tract of country excessively wild anddesolate, where no trace of a human footstep was to be seen. Legrand ledthe way with decision; pausing only for an instant, here and there, toconsult what appeared to be certain landmarks of his own contrivanceupon a former occasion. 

In this manner we journeyed for about two hours, and the sun was justsetting when we entered a region infinitely more dreary than any yetseen. It was a species of table land, near the summit of an almostinaccessible hill, densely wooded from base to pinnacle, andinterspersed with huge crags that appeared to lie loosely upon the soil, and in many cases were prevented from precipitating themselves into thevalleys below, merely by the support of the trees against which theyreclined. Deep ravines, in various directions, gave an air of stillsterner solemnity to the scene. 

The natural platform to which we had clambered was thickly overgrownwith brambles, through which we soon discovered that it would havebeen impossible to force our way but for the scythe; and Jupiter, bydirection of his master, proceeded to clear for us a path to the foot ofan enormously tall tulip-tree, which stood, with some eight or ten oaks, upon the level, and far surpassed them all, and all other trees which Ihad then ever seen, in the beauty of its foliage and form, in the widespread of its branches, and in the general majesty of its appearance. When we reached this tree, Legrand turned to Jupiter, and asked him ifhe thought he could climb it. The old man seemed a little staggeredby the question, and for some moments made no reply. At length heapproached the huge trunk, walked slowly around it, and examined it withminute attention. When he had completed his scrutiny, he merely said, "Yes, massa, Jup climb any tree he ebber see in he life. "

"Then up with you as soon as possible, for it will soon be too dark tosee what we are about. "

"How far mus go up, massa?" inquired Jupiter. 

"Get up the main trunk first, and then I will tell you which way togo--and here--stop! take this beetle with you. "

"De bug, Massa Will!--de goole bug!" cried the negro, drawing back indismay--"what for mus tote de bug way up de tree?--d-n if I do!"

"If you are afraid, Jup, a great big negro like you, to take hold ofa harmless little dead beetle, why you can carry it up by thisstring--but, if you do not take it up with you in some way, I shall beunder the necessity of breaking your head with this shovel. "

"What de matter now, massa?" said Jup, evidently shamed into compliance;"always want for to raise fuss wid old nigger. Was only funnin any how. Me feered de bug! what I keer for de bug?" Here he took cautiously holdof the extreme end of the string, and, maintaining the insect as farfrom his person as circumstances would permit, prepared to ascend thetree. 

In youth, the tulip-tree, or Liriodendron Tulipferum, the mostmagnificent of American foresters, has a trunk peculiarly smooth, andoften rises to a great height without lateral branches; but, in itsriper age, the bark becomes gnarled and uneven, while many short limbsmake their appearance on the stem. Thus the difficulty of ascension, inthe present case, lay more in semblance than in reality. Embracing thehuge cylinder, as closely as possible, with his arms and knees, seizingwith his hands some projections, and resting his naked toes uponothers, Jupiter, after one or two narrow escapes from falling, at lengthwriggled himself into the first great fork, and seemed to consider thewhole business as virtually accomplished. The risk of the achievementwas, in fact, now over, although the climber was some sixty or seventyfeet from the ground. 

"Which way mus go now, Massa Will?" he asked. 

"Keep up the largest branch--the one on this side, " said Legrand. Thenegro obeyed him promptly, and apparently with but little trouble;ascending higher and higher, until no glimpse of his squat figure couldbe obtained through the dense foliage which enveloped it. Presently hisvoice was heard in a sort of halloo. 

"How much fudder is got for go?"

"How high up are you?" asked Legrand. 

"Ebber so fur, " replied the negro; "can see de sky fru de top ob detree. "

"Never mind the sky, but attend to what I say. Look down the trunk andcount the limbs below you on this side. How many limbs have you passed?"

"One, two, tree, four, fibe--I done pass fibe big limb, massa, pon disside. "

"Then go one limb higher. "

In a few minutes the voice was heard again, announcing that the seventhlimb was attained. 

"Now, Jup, " cried Legrand, evidently much excited, "I want you to workyour way out upon that limb as far as you can. If you see anythingstrange, let me know. " By this time what little doubt I might haveentertained of my poor friend's insanity, was put finally at rest. I hadno alternative but to conclude him stricken with lunacy, and I becameseriously anxious about getting him home. While I was pondering uponwhat was best to be done, Jupiter's voice was again heard. 

"Mos feerd for to ventur pon dis limb berry far--tis dead limb puttymuch all de way. "

"Did you say it was a dead limb, Jupiter?" cried Legrand in a quaveringvoice. 

"Yes, massa, him dead as de door-nail--done up for sartain--donedeparted dis here life. "

"What in the name heaven shall I do?" asked Legrand, seemingly in thegreatest distress. "Do!" said I, glad of an opportunity to interposea word, "why come home and go to bed. Come now!--that's a fine fellow. It's getting late, and, besides, you remember your promise. "

"Jupiter, " cried he, without heeding me in the least, "do you hear me?"

"Yes, Massa Will, hear you ebber so plain. "

"Try the wood well, then, with your knife, and see if you think it veryrotten. "

"Him rotten, massa, sure nuff, " replied the negro in a few moments, "butnot so berry rotten as mought be. Mought ventur out leetle way pon delimb by myself, dat's true. "

"By yourself!--what do you mean?"

"Why I mean de bug. 'Tis berry hebby bug. Spose I drop him down fuss, and den de limb won't break wid just de weight ob one nigger. "

"You infernal scoundrel!" cried Legrand, apparently much relieved, "whatdo you mean by telling me such nonsense as that? As sure as you dropthat beetle I'll break your neck. Look here, Jupiter, do you hear me?"

"Yes, massa, needn't hollo at poor nigger dat style. "

"Well! now listen!--if you will venture out on the limb as far as youthink safe, and not let go the beetle, I'll make you a present of asilver dollar as soon as you get down. "

"I'm gwine, Massa Will--deed I is, " replied the negro verypromptly--"mos out to the eend now. "

"Out to the end!" here fairly screamed Legrand, "do you say you are outto the end of that limb?"

"Soon be to de eend, massa, --o-o-o-o-oh! Lor-gol-a-marcy! what is dishere pon de tree?"

"Well!" cried Legrand, highly delighted, "what is it?"

"Why taint noffin but a skull--somebody bin lef him head up de tree, andde crows done gobble ebery bit ob de meat off. "

"A skull, you say!--very well!--how is it fastened to the limb?--whatholds it on?"

"Sure nuff, massa; mus look. Why dis berry curous sarcumstance, pon myword--dare's a great big nail in de skull, what fastens ob it on to detree. "

"Well now, Jupiter, do exactly as I tell you--do you hear?"

"Yes, massa. "

"Pay attention, then!--find the left eye of the skull. "

"Hum! hoo! dat's good! why dare aint no eye lef at all. "

"Curse your stupidity! do you know your right hand from your left?"

"Yes, I nose dat--nose all bout dat--tis my lef hand what I chops dewood wid. "

"To be sure! you are left-handed; and your left eye is on the sameside as your left hand. Now, I suppose, you can find the left eye of theskull, or the place where the left eye has been. Have you found it?"

Here was a long pause. At length the negro asked, "Is de lef eye of de skull pon de same side as de lef hand of de skull, too?--cause de skull aint got not a bit ob a hand at all--nebber mind!I got de lef eye now--here de lef eye! what mus do wid it?"

"Let the beetle drop through it, as far as the string will reach--butbe careful and not let go your hold of the string. "

"All dat done, Massa Will; mighty easy ting for to put de bug fru dehole--look out for him dare below!"

During this colloquy no portion of Jupiter's person could be seen; butthe beetle, which he had suffered to descend, was now visible at theend of the string, and glistened, like a globe of burnished gold, in thelast rays of the setting sun, some of which still faintly illuminedthe eminence upon which we stood. The scarabæus hung quite clear ofany branches, and, if allowed to fall, would have fallen at our feet. Legrand immediately took the scythe, and cleared with it a circularspace, three or four yards in diameter, just beneath the insect, and, having accomplished this, ordered Jupiter to let go the string and comedown from the tree. 

Driving a peg, with great nicety, into the ground, at the precise spotwhere the beetle fell, my friend now produced from his pocket a tapemeasure. Fastening one end of this at that point of the trunk, of thetree which was nearest the peg, he unrolled it till it reached the peg, and thence farther unrolled it, in the direction already establishedby the two points of the tree and the peg, for the distance of fiftyfeet--Jupiter clearing away the brambles with the scythe. At the spotthus attained a second peg was driven, and about this, as a centre, arude circle, about four feet in diameter, described. Taking now a spadehimself, and giving one to Jupiter and one to me, Legrand begged us toset about digging as quickly as possible. 

To speak the truth, I had no especial relish for such amusement at anytime, and, at that particular moment, would most willingly have declinedit; for the night was coming on, and I felt much fatigued with theexercise already taken; but I saw no mode of escape, and was fearfulof disturbing my poor friend's equanimity by a refusal. Could I havedepended, indeed, upon Jupiter's aid, I would have had no hesitation inattempting to get the lunatic home by force; but I was too well assuredof the old negro's disposition, to hope that he would assist me, underany circumstances, in a personal contest with his master. I made nodoubt that the latter had been infected with some of the innumerableSouthern superstitions about money buried, and that his phantasy hadreceived confirmation by the finding of the scarabæus, or, perhaps, byJupiter's obstinacy in maintaining it to be "a bug of real gold. " Amind disposed to lunacy would readily be led away by suchsuggestions--especially if chiming in with favorite preconceivedideas--and then I called to mind the poor fellow's speech about thebeetle's being "the index of his fortune. " Upon the whole, I was sadlyvexed and puzzled, but, at length, I concluded to make a virtue ofnecessity--to dig with a good will, and thus the sooner to convince thevisionary, by ocular demonstration, of the fallacy of the opinions heentertained. 

The lanterns having been lit, we all fell to work with a zeal worthya more rational cause; and, as the glare fell upon our persons andimplements, I could not help thinking how picturesque a group wecomposed, and how strange and suspicious our labors must have appearedto any interloper who, by chance, might have stumbled upon ourwhereabouts. 

We dug very steadily for two hours. Little was said; and our chiefembarrassment lay in the yelpings of the dog, who took exceedinginterest in our proceedings. He, at length, became so obstreperousthat we grew fearful of his giving the alarm to some stragglers inthe vicinity;--or, rather, this was the apprehension of Legrand;--formyself, I should have rejoiced at any interruption which might haveenabled me to get the wanderer home. The noise was, at length, veryeffectually silenced by Jupiter, who, getting out of the hole with adogged air of deliberation, tied the brute's mouth up with one of hissuspenders, and then returned, with a grave chuckle, to his task. 

When the time mentioned had expired, we had reached a depth of fivefeet, and yet no signs of any treasure became manifest. A general pauseensued, and I began to hope that the farce was at an end. Legrand, however, although evidently much disconcerted, wiped his browthoughtfully and recommenced. We had excavated the entire circle of fourfeet diameter, and now we slightly enlarged the limit, and went to thefarther depth of two feet. Still nothing appeared. The gold-seeker, whomI sincerely pitied, at length clambered from the pit, with the bitterestdisappointment imprinted upon every feature, and proceeded, slowlyand reluctantly, to put on his coat, which he had thrown off at thebeginning of his labor. In the mean time I made no remark. Jupiter, at asignal from his master, began to gather up his tools. This done, and thedog having been unmuzzled, we turned in profound silence towards home. 

We had taken, perhaps, a dozen steps in this direction, when, with aloud oath, Legrand strode up to Jupiter, and seized him by the collar. The astonished negro opened his eyes and mouth to the fullest extent, let fall the spades, and fell upon his knees. 

"You scoundrel, " said Legrand, hissing out the syllables from betweenhis clenched teeth--"you infernal black villain!--speak, I tellyou!--answer me this instant, without prevarication!--which--which isyour left eye?"

"Oh, my golly, Massa Will! aint dis here my lef eye for sartain?" roaredthe terrified Jupiter, placing his hand upon his right organ of vision, and holding it there with a desperate pertinacity, as if in immediatedread of his master's attempt at a gouge. 

"I thought so!--I knew it! hurrah!" vociferated Legrand, letting thenegro go, and executing a series of curvets and caracols, much to theastonishment of his valet, who, arising from his knees, looked, mutely, from his master to myself, and then from myself to his master. 

"Come! we must go back, " said the latter, "the game's not up yet;" andhe again led the way to the tulip-tree. 

"Jupiter, " said he, when we reached its foot, "come here! was the skullnailed to the limb with the face outwards, or with the face to thelimb?"

"De face was out, massa, so dat de crows could get at de eyes good, widout any trouble. "

"Well, then, was it this eye or that through which you dropped thebeetle?"--here Legrand touched each of Jupiter's eyes. 

"Twas dis eye, massa--de lef eye--jis as you tell me, " and here it washis right eye that the negro indicated. 

"That will do--must try it again. "

Here my friend, about whose madness I now saw, or fancied that I saw, certain indications of method, removed the peg which marked the spotwhere the beetle fell, to a spot about three inches to the westwardof its former position. Taking, now, the tape measure from the nearestpoint of the trunk to the peg, as before, and continuing the extensionin a straight line to the distance of fifty feet, a spot was indicated, removed, by several yards, from the point at which we had been digging. 

Around the new position a circle, somewhat larger than in the formerinstance, was now described, and we again set to work with the spades. I was dreadfully weary, but, scarcely understanding what had occasionedthe change in my thoughts, I felt no longer any great aversion from thelabor imposed. I had become most unaccountably interested--nay, evenexcited. Perhaps there was something, amid all the extravagant demeanorof Legrand--some air of forethought, or of deliberation, which impressedme. I dug eagerly, and now and then caught myself actually looking, with something that very much resembled expectation, for the fanciedtreasure, the vision of which had demented my unfortunate companion. Ata period when such vagaries of thought most fully possessed me, andwhen we had been at work perhaps an hour and a half, we were againinterrupted by the violent howlings of the dog. His uneasiness, in thefirst instance, had been, evidently, but the result of playfulness orcaprice, but he now assumed a bitter and serious tone. Upon Jupiter'sagain attempting to muzzle him, he made furious resistance, and, leapinginto the hole, tore up the mould frantically with his claws. In a fewseconds he had uncovered a mass of human bones, forming two completeskeletons, intermingled with several buttons of metal, and what appearedto be the dust of decayed woollen. One or two strokes of a spadeupturned the blade of a large Spanish knife, and, as we dug farther, three or four loose pieces of gold and silver coin came to light. 

At sight of these the joy of Jupiter could scarcely be restrained, butthe countenance of his master wore an air of extreme disappointment Heurged us, however, to continue our exertions, and the words were hardlyuttered when I stumbled and fell forward, having caught the toe of myboot in a large ring of iron that lay half buried in the loose earth. 

We now worked in earnest, and never did I pass ten minutes of moreintense excitement. During this interval we had fairly unearthed anoblong chest of wood, which, from its perfect preservation andwonderful hardness, had plainly been subjected to some mineralizingprocess--perhaps that of the Bi-chloride of Mercury. This box was threefeet and a half long, three feet broad, and two and a half feet deep. Itwas firmly secured by bands of wrought iron, riveted, and forming a kindof open trelliswork over the whole. On each side of the chest, near thetop, were three rings of iron--six in all--by means of which a firm holdcould be obtained by six persons. Our utmost united endeavors servedonly to disturb the coffer very slightly in its bed. We at once sawthe impossibility of removing so great a weight. Luckily, the solefastenings of the lid consisted of two sliding bolts. These we drewback--trembling and panting with anxiety. In an instant, a treasure ofincalculable value lay gleaming before us. As the rays of the lanternsfell within the pit, there flashed upwards a glow and a glare, from aconfused heap of gold and of jewels, that absolutely dazzled our eyes. 

I shall not pretend to describe the feelings with which I gazed. Amazement was, of course, predominant. Legrand appeared exhausted withexcitement, and spoke very few words. Jupiter's countenance wore, forsome minutes, as deadly a pallor as it is possible, in nature of things, for any negro's visage to assume. He seemed stupified--thunderstricken. Presently he fell upon his knees in the pit, and, burying his nakedarms up to the elbows in gold, let them there remain, as if enjoying theluxury of a bath. At length, with a deep sigh, he exclaimed, as if in asoliloquy, "And dis all cum ob de goole-bug! de putty goole bug! de poor littlegoole-bug, what I boosed in dat sabage kind ob style! Aint you shamed obyourself, nigger?--answer me dat!"

It became necessary, at last, that I should arouse both master and valetto the expediency of removing the treasure. It was growing late, andit behooved us to make exertion, that we might get every thing housedbefore daylight. It was difficult to say what should be done, and muchtime was spent in deliberation--so confused were the ideas of all. We, finally, lightened the box by removing two thirds of its contents, when we were enabled, with some trouble, to raise it from the hole. Thearticles taken out were deposited among the brambles, and the dogleft to guard them, with strict orders from Jupiter neither, upon anypretence, to stir from the spot, nor to open his mouth until our return. We then hurriedly made for home with the chest; reaching the hut insafety, but after excessive toil, at one o'clock in the morning. Wornout as we were, it was not in human nature to do more immediately. Werested until two, and had supper; starting for the hills immediatelyafterwards, armed with three stout sacks, which, by good luck, were uponthe premises. A little before four we arrived at the pit, divided theremainder of the booty, as equally as might be, among us, and, leavingthe holes unfilled, again set out for the hut, at which, for the secondtime, we deposited our golden burthens, just as the first faint streaksof the dawn gleamed from over the tree-tops in the East. 

We were now thoroughly broken down; but the intense excitement of thetime denied us repose. After an unquiet slumber of some three or fourhours' duration, we arose, as if by preconcert, to make examination ofour treasure. 

The chest had been full to the brim, and we spent the whole day, and thegreater part of the next night, in a scrutiny of its contents. There hadbeen nothing like order or arrangement. Every thing had been heapedin promiscuously. Having assorted all with care, we found ourselvespossessed of even vaster wealth than we had at first supposed. Incoin there was rather more than four hundred and fifty thousanddollars--estimating the value of the pieces, as accurately as we could, by the tables of the period. There was not a particle of silver. All wasgold of antique date and of great variety--French, Spanish, and Germanmoney, with a few English guineas, and some counters, of which we hadnever seen specimens before. There were several very large and heavycoins, so worn that we could make nothing of their inscriptions. Therewas no American money. The value of the jewels we found more difficultyin estimating. There were diamonds--some of them exceedingly large andfine--a hundred and ten in all, and not one of them small; eighteenrubies of remarkable brilliancy;--three hundred and ten emeralds, allvery beautiful; and twenty-one sapphires, with an opal. These stones hadall been broken from their settings and thrown loose in the chest. Thesettings themselves, which we picked out from among the other gold, appeared to have been beaten up with hammers, as if to preventidentification. Besides all this, there was a vast quantity of solidgold ornaments;--nearly two hundred massive finger and earrings;--richchains--thirty of these, if I remember;--eighty-three very large andheavy crucifixes;--five gold censers of great value;--a prodigiousgolden punch bowl, ornamented with richly chased vine-leaves andBacchanalian figures; with two sword-handles exquisitely embossed, andmany other smaller articles which I cannot recollect. The weight ofthese valuables exceeded three hundred and fifty pounds avoirdupois; andin this estimate I have not included one hundred and ninety-seven superbgold watches; three of the number being worth each five hundred dollars, if one. Many of them were very old, and as time keepers valueless; theworks having suffered, more or less, from corrosion--but all were richlyjewelled and in cases of great worth. We estimated the entire contentsof the chest, that night, at a million and a half of dollars; and uponthe subsequent disposal of the trinkets and jewels (a few being retainedfor our own use), it was found that we had greatly undervalued thetreasure. When, at length, we had concluded our examination, and theintense excitement of the time had, in some measure, subsided, Legrand, who saw that I was dying with impatience for a solution of thismost extraordinary riddle, entered into a full detail of all thecircumstances connected with it. 

"You remember;" said he, "the night when I handed you the rough sketch Ihad made of the scarabæus. You recollect also, that I became quite vexedat you for insisting that my drawing resembled a death's-head. When youfirst made this assertion I thought you were jesting; but afterwardsI called to mind the peculiar spots on the back of the insect, andadmitted to myself that your remark had some little foundation in fact. Still, the sneer at my graphic powers irritated me--for I am considereda good artist--and, therefore, when you handed me the scrap ofparchment, I was about to crumple it up and throw it angrily into thefire. "

"The scrap of paper, you mean, " said I. 

"No; it had much of the appearance of paper, and at first I supposed itto be such, but when I came to draw upon it, I discovered it, at once, to be a piece of very thin parchment. It was quite dirty, you remember. Well, as I was in the very act of crumpling it up, my glance fellupon the sketch at which you had been looking, and you may imagine myastonishment when I perceived, in fact, the figure of a death's-headjust where, it seemed to me, I had made the drawing of the beetle. Fora moment I was too much amazed to think with accuracy. I knew that mydesign was very different in detail from this--although there was acertain similarity in general outline. Presently I took a candle, andseating myself at the other end of the room, proceeded to scrutinize theparchment more closely. Upon turning it over, I saw my own sketchupon the reverse, just as I had made it. My first idea, now, was meresurprise at the really remarkable similarity of outline--at the singularcoincidence involved in the fact, that unknown to me, there should havebeen a skull upon the other side of the parchment, immediately beneathmy figure of the scarabæus, and that this skull, not only in outline, but in size, should so closely resemble my drawing. I say thesingularity of this coincidence absolutely stupified me for a time. This is the usual effect of such coincidences. The mind struggles toestablish a connexion--a sequence of cause and effect--and, beingunable to do so, suffers a species of temporary paralysis. But, when Irecovered from this stupor, there dawned upon me gradually a convictionwhich startled me even far more than the coincidence. I begandistinctly, positively, to remember that there had been no drawing uponthe parchment when I made my sketch of the scarabæus. I became perfectlycertain of this; for I recollected turning up first one side and thenthe other, in search of the cleanest spot. Had the skull been thenthere, of course I could not have failed to notice it. Here was indeeda mystery which I felt it impossible to explain; but, even at that earlymoment, there seemed to glimmer, faintly, within the most remote andsecret chambers of my intellect, a glow-worm-like conception ofthat truth which last night's adventure brought to so magnificent ademonstration. I arose at once, and putting the parchment securely away, dismissed all farther reflection until I should be alone. 

"When you had gone, and when Jupiter was fast asleep, I betook myselfto a more methodical investigation of the affair. In the first placeI considered the manner in which the parchment had come into mypossession. The spot where we discovered the scarabaeus was on the coastof the main land, about a mile eastward of the island, and but a shortdistance above high water mark. Upon my taking hold of it, it gave me asharp bite, which caused me to let it drop. Jupiter, with his accustomedcaution, before seizing the insect, which had flown towards him, lookedabout him for a leaf, or something of that nature, by which to take holdof it. It was at this moment that his eyes, and mine also, fell upon thescrap of parchment, which I then supposed to be paper. It was lying halfburied in the sand, a corner sticking up. Near the spot where we foundit, I observed the remnants of the hull of what appeared to have been aship's long boat. The wreck seemed to have been there for a very greatwhile; for the resemblance to boat timbers could scarcely be traced. 

"Well, Jupiter picked up the parchment, wrapped the beetle in it, andgave it to me. Soon afterwards we turned to go home, and on the way metLieutenant G-. I showed him the insect, and he begged me to let himtake it to the fort. Upon my consenting, he thrust it forthwith into hiswaistcoat pocket, without the parchment in which it had been wrapped, and which I had continued to hold in my hand during his inspection. Perhaps he dreaded my changing my mind, and thought it best to make sureof the prize at once--you know how enthusiastic he is on all subjectsconnected with Natural History. At the same time, without beingconscious of it, I must have deposited the parchment in my own pocket. 

"You remember that when I went to the table, for the purpose of makinga sketch of the beetle, I found no paper where it was usually kept. I looked in the drawer, and found none there. I searched my pockets, hoping to find an old letter, when my hand fell upon the parchment. Ithus detail the precise mode in which it came into my possession; forthe circumstances impressed me with peculiar force. 

"No doubt you will think me fanciful--but I had already established akind of connexion. I had put together two links of a great chain. Therewas a boat lying upon a sea-coast, and not far from the boat was aparchment--not a paper--with a skull depicted upon it. You will, of course, ask 'where is the connexion?' I reply that the skull, ordeath's-head, is the well-known emblem of the pirate. The flag of thedeath's head is hoisted in all engagements. 

"I have said that the scrap was parchment, and not paper. Parchmentis durable--almost imperishable. Matters of little moment are rarelyconsigned to parchment; since, for the mere ordinary purposes of drawingor writing, it is not nearly so well adapted as paper. This reflectionsuggested some meaning--some relevancy--in the death's-head. I did notfail to observe, also, the form of the parchment. Although one of itscorners had been, by some accident, destroyed, it could be seen that theoriginal form was oblong. It was just such a slip, indeed, as mighthave been chosen for a memorandum--for a record of something to be longremembered and carefully preserved. "

"But, " I interposed, "you say that the skull was not upon the parchmentwhen you made the drawing of the beetle. How then do you trace anyconnexion between the boat and the skull--since this latter, accordingto your own admission, must have been designed (God only knows how or bywhom) at some period subsequent to your sketching the scarabæus?"

"Ah, hereupon turns the whole mystery; although the secret, at thispoint, I had comparatively little difficulty in solving. My steps weresure, and could afford but a single result. I reasoned, for example, thus: When I drew the scarabæus, there was no skull apparent uponthe parchment. When I had completed the drawing I gave it to you, andobserved you narrowly until you returned it. You, therefore, did notdesign the skull, and no one else was present to do it. Then it was notdone by human agency. And nevertheless it was done. 

"At this stage of my reflections I endeavored to remember, and didremember, with entire distinctness, every incident which occurred aboutthe period in question. The weather was chilly (oh rare and happyaccident!), and a fire was blazing upon the hearth. I was heated withexercise and sat near the table. You, however, had drawn a chair closeto the chimney. Just as I placed the parchment in your hand, and as youwere in the act of inspecting it, Wolf, the Newfoundland, entered, and leaped upon your shoulders. With your left hand you caressed him andkept him off, while your right, holding the parchment, was permitted tofall listlessly between your knees, and in close proximity to the fire. At one moment I thought the blaze had caught it, and was about tocaution you, but, before I could speak, you had withdrawn it, and wereengaged in its examination. When I considered all these particulars, Idoubted not for a moment that heat had been the agent in bringing tolight, upon the parchment, the skull which I saw designed upon it. Youare well aware that chemical preparations exist, and have existed timeout of mind, by means of which it is possible to write upon either paperor vellum, so that the characters shall become visible only whensubjected to the action of fire. Zaffre, digested in aqua regia, anddiluted with four times its weight of water, is sometimes employed; agreen tint results. The regulus of cobalt, dissolved in spirit of nitre, gives a red. These colors disappear at longer or shorter intervals afterthe material written upon cools, but again become apparent upon there-application of heat. 

"I now scrutinized the death's-head with care. Its outer edges--theedges of the drawing nearest the edge of the vellum--were far moredistinct than the others. It was clear that the action of the calorichad been imperfect or unequal. I immediately kindled a fire, andsubjected every portion of the parchment to a glowing heat. At first, the only effect was the strengthening of the faint lines in the skull;but, upon persevering in the experiment, there became visible, atthe corner of the slip, diagonally opposite to the spot in which thedeath's-head was delineated, the figure of what I at first supposed tobe a goat. A closer scrutiny, however, satisfied me that it was intendedfor a kid. "

"Ha! ha!" said I, "to be sure I have no right to laugh at you--a millionand a half of money is too serious a matter for mirth--but you are notabout to establish a third link in your chain--you will not find anyespecial connexion between your pirates and a goat--pirates, you know, have nothing to do with goats; they appertain to the farming interest. "

"But I have just said that the figure was not that of a goat. "

"Well, a kid then--pretty much the same thing. "

"Pretty much, but not altogether, " said Legrand. "You may have heard ofone Captain Kidd. I at once looked upon the figure of the animal as akind of punning or hieroglyphical signature. I say signature; becauseits position upon the vellum suggested this idea. The death's-head atthe corner diagonally opposite, had, in the same manner, the air of astamp, or seal. But I was sorely put out by the absence of all else--ofthe body to my imagined instrument--of the text for my context. "

"I presume you expected to find a letter between the stamp and thesignature. "

"Something of that kind. The fact is, I felt irresistibly impressed witha presentiment of some vast good fortune impending. I can scarcelysay why. Perhaps, after all, it was rather a desire than an actualbelief;--but do you know that Jupiter's silly words, about the bugbeing of solid gold, had a remarkable effect upon my fancy? And then theseries of accidents and coincidences--these were so very extraordinary. Do you observe how mere an accident it was that these events should haveoccurred upon the sole day of all the year in which it has been, or maybe, sufficiently cool for fire, and that without the fire, or withoutthe intervention of the dog at the precise moment in which he appeared, I should never have become aware of the death's-head, and so never thepossessor of the treasure?"

"But proceed--I am all impatience. "

"Well; you have heard, of course, the many stories current--the thousandvague rumors afloat about money buried, somewhere upon the Atlanticcoast, by Kidd and his associates. These rumors must have had somefoundation in fact. And that the rumors have existed so long and socontinuous, could have resulted, it appeared to me, only from thecircumstance of the buried treasure still remaining entombed. Had Kiddconcealed his plunder for a time, and afterwards reclaimed it, therumors would scarcely have reached us in their present unvarying form. You will observe that the stories told are all about money-seekers, not about money-finders. Had the pirate recovered his money, there theaffair would have dropped. It seemed to me that some accident--say theloss of a memorandum indicating its locality--had deprived him of themeans of recovering it, and that this accident had become known to hisfollowers, who otherwise might never have heard that treasure had beenconcealed at all, and who, busying themselves in vain, because unguidedattempts, to regain it, had given first birth, and then universalcurrency, to the reports which are now so common. Have you ever heard ofany important treasure being unearthed along the coast?"

"Never. "

"But that Kidd's accumulations were immense, is well known. I took itfor granted, therefore, that the earth still held them; and you willscarcely be surprised when I tell you that I felt a hope, nearlyamounting to certainty, that the parchment so strangely found, involveda lost record of the place of deposit. "

"But how did you proceed?"

"I held the vellum again to the fire, after increasing the heat; butnothing appeared. I now thought it possible that the coating of dirtmight have something to do with the failure; so I carefully rinsed theparchment by pouring warm water over it, and, having done this, Iplaced it in a tin pan, with the skull downwards, and put the pan upona furnace of lighted charcoal. In a few minutes, the pan having becomethoroughly heated, I removed the slip, and, to my inexpressible joy, found it spotted, in several places, with what appeared to be figuresarranged in lines. Again I placed it in the pan, and suffered it toremain another minute. Upon taking it off, the whole was just as you seeit now. " Here Legrand, having re-heated the parchment, submitted it tomy inspection. The following characters were rudely traced, in a redtint, between the death's-head and the goat:

"53‡‡†305))6*;4826)4‡)4‡;806*;48‡8¶60))85;1-(;:*8-83(88)5*‡

;46(;88*96*?;8)*‡(;485);5*†2:*‡(;4956*2(5*-4)8¶8*;40692

85);)6†8)4;1(‡9;48081;8:8‡1;48†85;4)485†528806*81(‡9;48;

(88;4(‡?34;48)4‡;161;:188;‡?;"

"But, " said I, returning him the slip, "I am as much in the dark asever. Were all the jewels of Golconda awaiting me upon my solution ofthis enigma, I am quite sure that I should be unable to earn them. "

"And yet, " said Legrand, "the solution is by no means so difficult asyou might be lead to imagine from the first hasty inspection of thecharacters. These characters, as any one might readily guess, form acipher--that is to say, they convey a meaning; but then, from what isknown of Kidd, I could not suppose him capable of constructing any ofthe more abstruse cryptographs. I made up my mind, at once, that thiswas of a simple species--such, however, as would appear, to the crudeintellect of the sailor, absolutely insoluble without the key. "

"And you really solved it?"

"Readily; I have solved others of an abstruseness ten thousand timesgreater. Circumstances, and a certain bias of mind, have led me totake interest in such riddles, and it may well be doubted whether humaningenuity can construct an enigma of the kind which human ingenuity maynot, by proper application, resolve. In fact, having once establishedconnected and legible characters, I scarcely gave a thought to the meredifficulty of developing their import. 

"In the present case--indeed in all cases of secret writing--the firstquestion regards the language of the cipher; for the principles ofsolution, so far, especially, as the more simple ciphers are concerned, depend upon, and are varied by, the genius of the particular idiom. In general, there is no alternative but experiment (directed byprobabilities) of every tongue known to him who attempts the solution, until the true one be attained. But, with the cipher now before us, alldifficulty was removed by the signature. The pun upon the word 'Kidd'is appreciable in no other language than the English. But for thisconsideration I should have begun my attempts with the Spanish andFrench, as the tongues in which a secret of this kind would mostnaturally have been written by a pirate of the Spanish main. As it was, I assumed the cryptograph to be English. 

"You observe there are no divisions between the words. Had there beendivisions, the task would have been comparatively easy. In such caseI should have commenced with a collation and analysis of the shorterwords, and, had a word of a single letter occurred, as is most likely, (a or I, for example, ) I should have considered the solution as assured. But, there being no division, my first step was to ascertain thepredominant letters, as well as the least frequent. Counting all, Iconstructed a table, thus:

Of the character 8 there are 33. 

 ; " 26. 

 4 " 19. 

 ‡ ) " 16. 

 * " 13. 

 5 " 12. 

 6 " 11. 

 † 1 " 8. 

 0 " 6. 

 9 2 " 5. 

 : 3 " 4. 

 ? " 3. 

 ¶ " 2. 

 -. " 1. 

"Now, in English, the letter which most frequently occurs is e. Afterwards, succession runs thus: _a o i d h n r s t u y c f g l m w b kp q x z_. _E_ predominates so remarkably that an individual sentence ofany length is rarely seen, in which it is not the prevailing character. 

"Here, then, we leave, in the very beginning, the groundwork forsomething more than a mere guess. The general use which may be made ofthe table is obvious--but, in this particular cipher, we shall only verypartially require its aid. As our predominant character is 8, we willcommence by assuming it as the _e_ of the natural alphabet. To verifythe supposition, let us observe if the 8 be seen often in couples--for_e_ is doubled with great frequency in English--in such words, forexample, as 'meet, ' '. Fleet, ' 'speed, ' 'seen, ' been, ' 'agree, ' &c. Inthe present instance we see it doubled no less than five times, althoughthe cryptograph is brief. 

"Let us assume 8, then, as _e_. Now, of all _words_ in the language, 'the' is most usual; let us see, therefore, whether there are notrepetitions of any three characters, in the same order of collocation, the last of them being 8. If we discover repetitions of such letters, so arranged, they will most probably represent the word 'the. ' Uponinspection, we find no less than seven such arrangements, the charactersbeing;48. We may, therefore, assume that; represents _t_, 4 represents_h_, and 8 represents _e_--the last being now well confirmed. Thus agreat step has been taken. 

"But, having established a single word, we are enabled to establisha vastly important point; that is to say, several commencements andterminations of other words. Let us refer, for example, to the lastinstance but one, in which the combination;48 occurs--not far fromthe end of the cipher. We know that the; immediately ensuing is thecommencement of a word, and, of the six characters succeeding this'the, ' we are cognizant of no less than five. Let us set thesecharacters down, thus, by the letters we know them to represent, leavinga space for the unknown--

t eeth. 

"Here we are enabled, at once, to discard the 'th, ' as forming noportion of the word commencing with the first t; since, by experimentof the entire alphabet for a letter adapted to the vacancy, we perceivethat no word can be formed of which this _th_ can be a part. We are thusnarrowed into

t ee, and, going through the alphabet, if necessary, as before, we arriveat the word 'tree, ' as the sole possible reading. We thus gainanother letter, _r_, represented by (, with the words 'the tree' injuxtaposition. 

"Looking beyond these words, for a short distance, we again seethe combination;48, and employ it by way of _termination_ to whatimmediately precedes. We have thus this arrangement:

the tree;4(‡?34 the, or, substituting the natural letters, where known, it reads thus:

the tree thr‡?3h the. 

"Now, if, in place of the unknown characters, we leave blank spaces, orsubstitute dots, we read thus:

the tree thr. .. H the, when the word '_through_' makes itself evident at once. But thisdiscovery gives us three new letters, _o_, _u_ and _g_, represented by‡? and 3. 

"Looking now, narrowly, through the cipher for combinations of knowncharacters, we find, not very far from the beginning, this arrangement, 83(88, or egree, which, plainly, is the conclusion of the word 'degree, ' and gives usanother letter, _d_, represented by †. 

"Four letters beyond the word 'degree, ' we perceive the combination

;46(;88. 

"Translating the known characters, and representing the unknown by dots, as before, we read thus: th rtee. An arrangement immediately suggestiveof the word 'thirteen, ' and again furnishing us with two new characters, _i_ and _n_, represented by 6 and *. 

"Referring, now, to the beginning of the cryptograph, we find thecombination, 53‡‡†. 

"Translating, as before, we obtain

good, which assures us that the first letter is _A_, and that the first twowords are 'A good. '

"It is now time that we arrange our key, as far as discovered, in atabular form, to avoid confusion. It will stand thus:

 5 represents a

 † " d

 8 " e

 3 " g

 4 " h

 6 " i

 * " n

 ‡ " o

 ( " r

 ; " t

"We have, therefore, no less than ten of the most important lettersrepresented, and it will be unnecessary to proceed with the details ofthe solution. I have said enough to convince you that ciphers of thisnature are readily soluble, and to give you some insight into therationale of their development. But be assured that the specimen beforeus appertains to the very simplest species of cryptograph. It now onlyremains to give you the full translation of the characters upon theparchment, as unriddled. Here it is:

"'_A good glass in the bishop's hostel in the devil's seat forty-onedegrees and thirteen minutes northeast and by north main branch seventhlimb east side shoot from the left eye of the death's-head a bee linefrom the tree through the shot fifty feet out_. '"

"But, " said I, "the enigma seems still in as bad a condition as ever. How is it possible to extort a meaning from all this jargon about'devil's seats, ' 'death's heads, ' and 'bishop's hotels?'"

"I confess, " replied Legrand, "that the matter still wears a seriousaspect, when regarded with a casual glance. My first endeavor wasto divide the sentence into the natural division intended by thecryptographist. "

"You mean, to punctuate it?"

"Something of that kind. "

"But how was it possible to effect this?"

"I reflected that it had been a point with the writer to run his wordstogether without division, so as to increase the difficulty of solution. Now, a not over-acute man, in pursuing such an object would be nearlycertain to overdo the matter. When, in the course of his composition, hearrived at a break in his subject which would naturally require a pause, or a point, he would be exceedingly apt to run his characters, at thisplace, more than usually close together. If you will observe the MS. , inthe present instance, you will easily detect five such cases of unusualcrowding. Acting upon this hint, I made the division thus: 'A goodglass in the Bishop's hostel in the Devil's seat--forty-one degrees andthirteen minutes--northeast and by north--main branch seventh limb eastside--shoot from the left eye of the death's-head--a bee-line from thetree through the shot fifty feet out. '"

"Even this division, " said I, "leaves me still in the dark. "

"It left me also in the dark, " replied Legrand, "for a few days; duringwhich I made diligent inquiry, in the neighborhood of Sullivan's Island, for any building which went by the name of the 'Bishop's Hotel;' for, ofcourse, I dropped the obsolete word 'hostel. ' Gaining no information onthe subject, I was on the point of extending my sphere of search, andproceeding in a more systematic manner, when, one morning, it enteredinto my head, quite suddenly, that this 'Bishop's Hostel' might havesome reference to an old family, of the name of Bessop, which, time outof mind, had held possession of an ancient manor-house, about fourmiles to the northward of the Island. I accordingly went over to theplantation, and re-instituted my inquiries among the older negroes ofthe place. At length one of the most aged of the women said that shehad heard of such a place as Bessop's Castle, and thought that she couldguide me to it, but that it was not a castle nor a tavern, but a highrock. 

"I offered to pay her well for her trouble, and, after some demur, she consented to accompany me to the spot. We found it without muchdifficulty, when, dismissing her, I proceeded to examine the place. The'castle' consisted of an irregular assemblage of cliffs and rocks--oneof the latter being quite remarkable for its height as well as for itsinsulated and artificial appearance I clambered to its apex, and thenfelt much at a loss as to what should be next done. 

"While I was busied in reflection, my eyes fell upon a narrow ledge inthe eastern face of the rock, perhaps a yard below the summit upon whichI stood. This ledge projected about eighteen inches, and was not morethan a foot wide, while a niche in the cliff just above it, gave ita rude resemblance to one of the hollow-backed chairs used by ourancestors. I made no doubt that here was the 'devil's seat' alluded toin the MS. , and now I seemed to grasp the full secret of the riddle. 

"The 'good glass, ' I knew, could have reference to nothing but atelescope; for the word 'glass' is rarely employed in any other senseby seamen. Now here, I at once saw, was a telescope to be used, and adefinite point of view, admitting no variation, from which to use it. Nor did I hesitate to believe that the phrases, "forty-one degreesand thirteen minutes, ' and 'northeast and by north, ' were intended asdirections for the levelling of the glass. Greatly excited by thesediscoveries, I hurried home, procured a telescope, and returned to therock. 

"I let myself down to the ledge, and found that it was impossible toretain a seat upon it except in one particular position. This factconfirmed my preconceived idea. I proceeded to use the glass. Of course, the 'forty-one degrees and thirteen minutes' could allude to nothing butelevation above the visible horizon, since the horizontal direction wasclearly indicated by the words, 'northeast and by north. ' This latterdirection I at once established by means of a pocket-compass; then, pointing the glass as nearly at an angle of forty-one degrees ofelevation as I could do it by guess, I moved it cautiously up or down, until my attention was arrested by a circular rift or opening in thefoliage of a large tree that overtopped its fellows in the distance. In the centre of this rift I perceived a white spot, but could not, atfirst, distinguish what it was. Adjusting the focus of the telescope, Iagain looked, and now made it out to be a human skull. 

"Upon this discovery I was so sanguine as to consider the enigma solved;for the phrase 'main branch, seventh limb, east side, ' could refer onlyto the position of the skull upon the tree, while 'shoot from the lefteye of the death's head' admitted, also, of but one interpretation, inregard to a search for buried treasure. I perceived that the design wasto drop a bullet from the left eye of the skull, and that a bee-line, or, in other words, a straight line, drawn from the nearest point ofthe trunk through 'the shot, ' (or the spot where the bullet fell, ) andthence extended to a distance of fifty feet, would indicate a definitepoint--and beneath this point I thought it at least possible that adeposit of value lay concealed. "

"All this, " I said, "is exceedingly clear, and, although ingenious, still simple and explicit. When you left the Bishop's Hotel, what then?"

"Why, having carefully taken the bearings of the tree, I turnedhomewards. The instant that I left 'the devil's seat, ' however, thecircular rift vanished; nor could I get a glimpse of it afterwards, turnas I would. What seems to me the chief ingenuity in this whole business, is the fact (for repeated experiment has convinced me it is a fact) thatthe circular opening in question is visible from no other attainablepoint of view than that afforded by the narrow ledge upon the face ofthe rock. 

"In this expedition to the 'Bishop's Hotel' I had been attendedby Jupiter, who had, no doubt, observed, for some weeks past, theabstraction of my demeanor, and took especial care not to leave mealone. But, on the next day, getting up very early, I contrived to givehim the slip, and went into the hills in search of the tree. After muchtoil I found it. When I came home at night my valet proposed to giveme a flogging. With the rest of the adventure I believe you are as wellacquainted as myself. "

"I suppose, " said I, "you missed the spot, in the first attempt atdigging, through Jupiter's stupidity in letting the bug fall through theright instead of through the left eye of the skull. "

"Precisely. This mistake made a difference of about two inches and ahalf in the 'shot'--that is to say, in the position of the peg nearestthe tree; and had the treasure been beneath the 'shot, ' the error wouldhave been of little moment; but 'the shot, ' together with the nearestpoint of the tree, were merely two points for the establishment ofa line of direction; of course the error, however trivial in thebeginning, increased as we proceeded with the line, and by the timewe had gone fifty feet, threw us quite off the scent. But for mydeep-seated impressions that treasure was here somewhere actuallyburied, we might have had all our labor in vain. "

"But your grandiloquence, and your conduct in swinging the beetle--howexcessively odd! I was sure you were mad. And why did you insist uponletting fall the bug, instead of a bullet, from the skull?"

"Why, to be frank, I felt somewhat annoyed by your evident suspicionstouching my sanity, and so resolved to punish you quietly, in my ownway, by a little bit of sober mystification. For this reason I swungthe beetle, and for this reason I let it fall it from the tree. Anobservation of yours about its great weight suggested the latter idea. "

"Yes, I perceive; and now there is only one point which puzzles me. Whatare we to make of the skeletons found in the hole?"

"That is a question I am no more able to answer than yourself. Thereseems, however, only one plausible way of accounting for them--and yetit is dreadful to believe in such atrocity as my suggestion would imply. It is clear that Kidd--if Kidd indeed secreted this treasure, which Idoubt not--it is clear that he must have had assistance in the labor. But this labor concluded, he may have thought it expedient to removeall participants in his secret. Perhaps a couple of blows with a mattockwere sufficient, while his coadjutors were busy in the pit; perhaps itrequired a dozen--who shall tell?"

FOUR BEASTS IN ONE--THE HOMO-CAMELEOPARD

 Chacun a ses vertus. --_Crebillon's Xerxes. _

ANTIOCHUS EPIPHANES is very generally looked upon as the Gog of theprophet Ezekiel. This honor is, however, more properly attributable toCambyses, the son of Cyrus. And, indeed, the character of theSyrian monarch does by no means stand in need of any adventitiousembellishment. His accession to the throne, or rather his usurpation ofthe sovereignty, a hundred and seventy-one years before the comingof Christ; his attempt to plunder the temple of Diana at Ephesus; hisimplacable hostility to the Jews; his pollution of the Holy of Holies;and his miserable death at Taba, after a tumultuous reign of elevenyears, are circumstances of a prominent kind, and therefore moregenerally noticed by the historians of his time than the impious, dastardly, cruel, silly, and whimsical achievements which make up thesum total of his private life and reputation. 

Let us suppose, gentle reader, that it is now the year of the worldthree thousand eight hundred and thirty, and let us, for a few minutes, imagine ourselves at that most grotesque habitation of man, theremarkable city of Antioch. To be sure there were, in Syria and othercountries, sixteen cities of that appellation, besides the one to whichI more particularly allude. But ours is that which went by the name ofAntiochia Epidaphne, from its vicinity to the little village of Daphne, where stood a temple to that divinity. It was built (although about thismatter there is some dispute) by Seleucus Nicanor, the first king of thecountry after Alexander the Great, in memory of his father Antiochus, and became immediately the residence of the Syrian monarchy. In theflourishing times of the Roman Empire, it was the ordinary station ofthe prefect of the eastern provinces; and many of the emperors of thequeen city (among whom may be mentioned, especially, Verus and Valens)spent here the greater part of their time. But I perceive we havearrived at the city itself. Let us ascend this battlement, and throw oureyes upon the town and neighboring country. 

"What broad and rapid river is that which forces its way, withinnumerable falls, through the mountainous wilderness, and finallythrough the wilderness of buildings?"

That is the Orontes, and it is the only water in sight, with theexception of the Mediterranean, which stretches, like a broad mirror, about twelve miles off to the southward. Every one has seen theMediterranean; but let me tell you, there are few who have had a peep atAntioch. By few, I mean, few who, like you and me, have had, at the sametime, the advantages of a modern education. Therefore cease to regardthat sea, and give your whole attention to the mass of houses that liebeneath us. You will remember that it is now the year of the world threethousand eight hundred and thirty. Were it later--for example, wereit the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and forty-five, we should bedeprived of this extraordinary spectacle. In the nineteenth centuryAntioch is--that is to say, Antioch will be--in a lamentable stateof decay. It will have been, by that time, totally destroyed, at threedifferent periods, by three successive earthquakes. Indeed, to say thetruth, what little of its former self may then remain, will be found inso desolate and ruinous a state that the patriarch shall have removedhis residence to Damascus. This is well. I see you profit by my advice, and are making the most of your time in inspecting the premises--in

-satisfying your eyes

With the memorials and the things of fame

That most renown this city. --

I beg pardon; I had forgotten that Shakespeare will not flourish forseventeen hundred and fifty years to come. But does not the appearanceof Epidaphne justify me in calling it grotesque?

"It is well fortified; and in this respect is as much indebted to natureas to art. "

Very true. 

"There are a prodigious number of stately palaces. "

There are. 

"And the numerous temples, sumptuous and magnificent, may bearcomparison with the most lauded of antiquity. "

All this I must acknowledge. Still there is an infinity of mud huts, andabominable hovels. We cannot help perceiving abundance of filth inevery kennel, and, were it not for the over-powering fumes of idolatrousincense, I have no doubt we should find a most intolerable stench. Did you ever behold streets so insufferably narrow, or houses somiraculously tall? What gloom their shadows cast upon the ground! Itis well the swinging lamps in those endless colonnades are kept burningthroughout the day; we should otherwise have the darkness of Egypt inthe time of her desolation. 

"It is certainly a strange place! What is the meaning of yonder singularbuilding? See! it towers above all others, and lies to the eastward ofwhat I take to be the royal palace. "

That is the new Temple of the Sun, who is adored in Syria under thetitle of Elah Gabalah. Hereafter a very notorious Roman Emperorwill institute this worship in Rome, and thence derive a cognomen, Heliogabalus. I dare say you would like to take a peep at the divinityof the temple. You need not look up at the heavens; his Sunship is notthere--at least not the Sunship adored by the Syrians. That deity willbe found in the interior of yonder building. He is worshipped under thefigure of a large stone pillar terminating at the summit in a cone orpyramid, whereby is denoted Fire. 

"Hark--behold!--who can those ridiculous beings be, half naked, withtheir faces painted, shouting and gesticulating to the rabble?"

Some few are mountebanks. Others more particularly belong to the raceof philosophers. The greatest portion, however--those especially whobelabor the populace with clubs--are the principal courtiers of thepalace, executing as in duty bound, some laudable comicality of theking's. 

"But what have we here? Heavens! the town is swarming with wild beasts!How terrible a spectacle!--how dangerous a peculiarity!"

Terrible, if you please; but not in the least degree dangerous. Eachanimal if you will take the pains to observe, is following, veryquietly, in the wake of its master. Some few, to be sure, are led with arope about the neck, but these are chiefly the lesser or timid species. The lion, the tiger, and the leopard are entirely without restraint. They have been trained without difficulty to their presentprofession, and attend upon their respective owners in the capacity ofvalets-de-chambre. It is true, there are occasions when Nature assertsher violated dominions;--but then the devouring of a man-at-arms, or thethrottling of a consecrated bull, is a circumstance of too little momentto be more than hinted at in Epidaphne. 

"But what extraordinary tumult do I hear? Surely this is a loud noiseeven for Antioch! It argues some commotion of unusual interest. "

Yes--undoubtedly. The king has ordered some novel spectacle--somegladiatorial exhibition at the hippodrome--or perhaps the massacre ofthe Scythian prisoners--or the conflagration of his new palace--or thetearing down of a handsome temple--or, indeed, a bonfire of a few Jews. The uproar increases. Shouts of laughter ascend the skies. The airbecomes dissonant with wind instruments, and horrible with clamor of amillion throats. Let us descend, for the love of fun, and see what isgoing on! This way--be careful! Here we are in the principal street, which is called the street of Timarchus. The sea of people is comingthis way, and we shall find a difficulty in stemming the tide. They arepouring through the alley of Heraclides, which leads directly from thepalace;--therefore the king is most probably among the rioters. Yes;--Ihear the shouts of the herald proclaiming his approach in the pompousphraseology of the East. We shall have a glimpse of his person ashe passes by the temple of Ashimah. Let us ensconce ourselves in thevestibule of the sanctuary; he will be here anon. In the meantime letus survey this image. What is it? Oh! it is the god Ashimah in properperson. You perceive, however, that he is neither a lamb, nor agoat, nor a satyr, neither has he much resemblance to the Pan of theArcadians. Yet all these appearances have been given--I beg pardon--willbe given--by the learned of future ages, to the Ashimah of the Syrians. Put on your spectacles, and tell me what it is. What is it?

"Bless me! it is an ape!"

True--a baboon; but by no means the less a deity. His name is aderivation of the Greek Simia--what great fools are antiquarians! Butsee!--see!--yonder scampers a ragged little urchin. Where is he going?What is he bawling about? What does he say? Oh! he says the kingis coming in triumph; that he is dressed in state; that he has justfinished putting to death, with his own hand, a thousand chainedIsraelitish prisoners! For this exploit the ragamuffin is lauding him tothe skies. Hark! here comes a troop of a similar description. They havemade a Latin hymn upon the valor of the king, and are singing it as theygo:

Mille, mille, mille, Mille, mille, mille, Decollavimus, unus homo!

Mille, mille, mille, mille, decollavimus!

Mille, mille, mille, Vivat qui mille mille occidit!

Tantum vini habet nemo

Quantum sanguinis effudit!(*1)

Which may be thus paraphrased:

A thousand, a thousand, a thousand, A thousand, a thousand, a thousand, We, with one warrior, have slain!

A thousand, a thousand, a thousand, a thousand. 

Sing a thousand over again!

Soho!--let us sing

Long life to our king, Who knocked over a thousand so fine!

Soho!--let us roar, He has given us more

Red gallons of gore

Than all Syria can furnish of wine!

"Do you hear that flourish of trumpets?"

Yes: the king is coming! See! the people are aghast with admiration, and lift up their eyes to the heavens in reverence. He comes;--he iscoming;--there he is!

"Who?--where?--the king?--do not behold him--cannot say that I perceivehim. "

Then you must be blind. 

"Very possible. Still I see nothing but a tumultuous mob of idiotsand madmen, who are busy in prostrating themselves before a giganticcameleopard, and endeavoring to obtain a kiss of the animal's hoofs. See! the beast has very justly kicked one of the rabble over--andanother--and another--and another. Indeed, I cannot help admiring theanimal for the excellent use he is making of his feet. "

Rabble, indeed!--why these are the noble and free citizens of Epidaphne!Beasts, did you say?--take care that you are not overheard. Do you notperceive that the animal has the visage of a man? Why, my dear sir, that cameleopard is no other than Antiochus Epiphanes, Antiochus theIllustrious, King of Syria, and the most potent of all the autocratsof the East! It is true, that he is entitled, at times, AntiochusEpimanes--Antiochus the madman--but that is because all people have notthe capacity to appreciate his merits. It is also certain that he is atpresent ensconced in the hide of a beast, and is doing his best to playthe part of a cameleopard; but this is done for the better sustaininghis dignity as king. Besides, the monarch is of gigantic stature, and the dress is therefore neither unbecoming nor over large. We may, however, presume he would not have adopted it but for some occasionof especial state. Such, you will allow, is the massacre of a thousandJews. With how superior a dignity the monarch perambulates on all fours!His tail, you perceive, is held aloft by his two principal concubines, Elline and Argelais; and his whole appearance would be infinitelyprepossessing, were it not for the protuberance of his eyes, which willcertainly start out of his head, and the queer color of his face, whichhas become nondescript from the quantity of wine he has swallowed. Letus follow him to the hippodrome, whither he is proceeding, and listen tothe song of triumph which he is commencing:

Who is king but Epiphanes?

Say--do you know?

Who is king but Epiphanes?

Bravo!--bravo!

There is none but Epiphanes, No--there is none:

So tear down the temples, And put out the sun!

Well and strenuously sung! The populace are hailing him 'Prince ofPoets, ' as well as 'Glory of the East, ' 'Delight of the Universe, ' and'Most Remarkable of Cameleopards. ' They have encored his effusion, and do you hear?--he is singing it over again. When he arrives at thehippodrome, he will be crowned with the poetic wreath, in anticipationof his victory at the approaching Olympics. 

"But, good Jupiter! what is the matter in the crowd behind us?"

Behind us, did you say?--oh! ah!--I perceive. My friend, it is wellthat you spoke in time. Let us get into a place of safety as soon aspossible. Here!--let us conceal ourselves in the arch of this aqueduct, and I will inform you presently of the origin of the commotion. It hasturned out as I have been anticipating. The singular appearance of thecameleopard and the head of a man, has, it seems, given offence tothe notions of propriety entertained, in general, by the wild animalsdomesticated in the city. A mutiny has been the result; and, as is usualupon such occasions, all human efforts will be of no avail in quellingthe mob. Several of the Syrians have already been devoured; but thegeneral voice of the four-footed patriots seems to be for eating up thecameleopard. 'The Prince of Poets, ' therefore, is upon his hinder legs, running for his life. His courtiers have left him in the lurch, andhis concubines have followed so excellent an example. 'Delight of theUniverse, ' thou art in a sad predicament! 'Glory of the East, ' thou artin danger of mastication! Therefore never regard so piteously thy tail;it will undoubtedly be draggled in the mud, and for this there is nohelp. Look not behind thee, then, at its unavoidable degradation; buttake courage, ply thy legs with vigor, and scud for the hippodrome!Remember that thou art Antiochus Epiphanes. Antiochus theIllustrious!--also 'Prince of Poets, ' 'Glory of the East, ' 'Delight ofthe Universe, ' and 'Most Remarkable of Cameleopards!' Heavens! what apower of speed thou art displaying! What a capacity for leg-bailthou art developing! Run, Prince!--Bravo, Epiphanes! Well done, Cameleopard!--Glorious Antiochus!--He runs!--he leaps!--he flies! Likean arrow from a catapult he approaches the hippodrome! He leaps!--heshrieks!--he is there! This is well; for hadst thou, 'Glory ofthe East, ' been half a second longer in reaching the gates of theAmphitheatre, there is not a bear's cub in Epidaphne that would nothave had a nibble at thy carcase. Let us be off--let us take ourdeparture!--for we shall find our delicate modern ears unable to endurethe vast uproar which is about to commence in celebration of the king'sescape! Listen! it has already commenced. See!--the whole town istopsy-turvy. 

"Surely this is the most populous city of the East! What a wildernessof people! what a jumble of all ranks and ages! what a multiplicityof sects and nations! what a variety of costumes! what a Babel oflanguages! what a screaming of beasts! what a tinkling of instruments!what a parcel of philosophers!"

Come let us be off. 

"Stay a moment! I see a vast hubbub in the hippodrome; what is themeaning of it, I beseech you?"

That?--oh, nothing! The noble and free citizens of Epidaphne being, asthey declare, well satisfied of the faith, valor, wisdom, and divinityof their king, and having, moreover, been eye-witnesses of his latesuperhuman agility, do think it no more than their duty to invest hisbrows (in addition to the poetic crown) with the wreath of victoryin the footrace--a wreath which it is evident he must obtain at thecelebration of the next Olympiad, and which, therefore, they now givehim in advance. 

Footnotes--Four Beasts

(*1) Flavius Vospicus says, that the hymn here introduced was sung bythe rabble upon the occasion of Aurelian, in the Sarmatic war, havingslain, with his own hand, nine hundred and fifty of the enemy. 

THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE

 What song the Syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women, although puzzling questions, are not beyond _all_ conjecture. 

 --_Sir Thomas Browne. _

The mental features discoursed of as the analytical, are, in themselves, but little susceptible of analysis. We appreciate them only in theireffects. We know of them, among other things, that they are always totheir possessor, when inordinately possessed, a source of the liveliestenjoyment. As the strong man exults in his physical ability, delightingin such exercises as call his muscles into action, so glories theanalyst in that moral activity which _disentangles. _ He derives pleasurefrom even the most trivial occupations bringing his talent into play. Heis fond of enigmas, of conundrums, of hieroglyphics; exhibiting in hissolutions of each a degree of _acumen_ which appears to the ordinaryapprehension præternatural. His results, brought about by the very souland essence of method, have, in truth, the whole air of intuition. 

The faculty of re-solution is possibly much invigorated by mathematicalstudy, and especially by that highest branch of it which, unjustly, andmerely on account of its retrograde operations, has been called, asif _par excellence_, analysis. Yet to calculate is not in itself toanalyse. A chess-player, for example, does the one without effort atthe other. It follows that the game of chess, in its effects upon mentalcharacter, is greatly misunderstood. I am not now writing a treatise, but simply prefacing a somewhat peculiar narrative by observations verymuch at random; I will, therefore, take occasion to assert that thehigher powers of the reflective intellect are more decidedly and moreusefully tasked by the unostentatious game of draughts than by a theelaborate frivolity of chess. In this latter, where the pieces havedifferent and _bizarre_ motions, with various and variable values, whatis only complex is mistaken (a not unusual error) for what is profound. The _attention_ is here called powerfully into play. If it flag for aninstant, an oversight is committed resulting in injury or defeat. Thepossible moves being not only manifold but involute, the chances of suchoversights are multiplied; and in nine cases out of ten it is themore concentrative rather than the more acute player who conquers. Indraughts, on the contrary, where the moves are _unique_ and have butlittle variation, the probabilities of inadvertence are diminished, andthe mere attention being left comparatively unemployed, what advantagesare obtained by either party are obtained by superior _acumen_. To beless abstract--Let us suppose a game of draughts where the pieces arereduced to four kings, and where, of course, no oversight is to beexpected. It is obvious that here the victory can be decided (theplayers being at all equal) only by some _recherché_ movement, theresult of some strong exertion of the intellect. Deprived of ordinaryresources, the analyst throws himself into the spirit of his opponent, identifies himself therewith, and not unfrequently sees thus, at aglance, the sole methods (sometime indeed absurdly simple ones) by whichhe may seduce into error or hurry into miscalculation. 

Whist has long been noted for its influence upon what is termed thecalculating power; and men of the highest order of intellect have beenknown to take an apparently unaccountable delight in it, while eschewingchess as frivolous. Beyond doubt there is nothing of a similar natureso greatly tasking the faculty of analysis. The best chess-player inChristendom _may_ be little more than the best player of chess; butproficiency in whist implies capacity for success in all those moreimportant undertakings where mind struggles with mind. When I sayproficiency, I mean that perfection in the game which includes acomprehension of _all_ the sources whence legitimate advantage may bederived. These are not only manifold but multiform, and lie frequentlyamong recesses of thought altogether inaccessible to the ordinaryunderstanding. To observe attentively is to remember distinctly; and, so far, the concentrative chess-player will do very well at whist; whilethe rules of Hoyle (themselves based upon the mere mechanism of thegame) are sufficiently and generally comprehensible. Thus to have aretentive memory, and to proceed by "the book, " are points commonlyregarded as the sum total of good playing. But it is in matters beyondthe limits of mere rule that the skill of the analyst is evinced. Hemakes, in silence, a host of observations and inferences. So, perhaps, do his companions; and the difference in the extent of the informationobtained, lies not so much in the validity of the inference as in thequality of the observation. The necessary knowledge is that of _what_ toobserve. Our player confines himself not at all; nor, because the gameis the object, does he reject deductions from things external to thegame. He examines the countenance of his partner, comparing it carefullywith that of each of his opponents. He considers the mode of assortingthe cards in each hand; often counting trump by trump, and honor byhonor, through the glances bestowed by their holders upon each. He notesevery variation of face as the play progresses, gathering a fundof thought from the differences in the expression of certainty, ofsurprise, of triumph, or of chagrin. From the manner of gathering upa trick he judges whether the person taking it can make another in thesuit. He recognises what is played through feint, by the air withwhich it is thrown upon the table. A casual or inadvertent word; theaccidental dropping or turning of a card, with the accompanying anxietyor carelessness in regard to its concealment; the counting of thetricks, with the order of their arrangement; embarrassment, hesitation, eagerness or trepidation--all afford, to his apparently intuitiveperception, indications of the true state of affairs. The first twoor three rounds having been played, he is in full possession of thecontents of each hand, and thenceforward puts down his cards with asabsolute a precision of purpose as if the rest of the party had turnedoutward the faces of their own. 

The analytical power should not be confounded with ample ingenuity; forwhile the analyst is necessarily ingenious, the ingenious man is oftenremarkably incapable of analysis. The constructive or combining power, by which ingenuity is usually manifested, and to which the phrenologists(I believe erroneously) have assigned a separate organ, supposing it aprimitive faculty, has been so frequently seen in those whose intellectbordered otherwise upon idiocy, as to have attracted general observationamong writers on morals. Between ingenuity and the analytic abilitythere exists a difference far greater, indeed, than that between thefancy and the imagination, but of a character very strictly analogous. It will be found, in fact, that the ingenious are always fanciful, andthe _truly_ imaginative never otherwise than analytic. 

The narrative which follows will appear to the reader somewhat in thelight of a commentary upon the propositions just advanced. 

Residing in Paris during the spring and part of the summer of 18--, Ithere became acquainted with a Monsieur C. Auguste Dupin. This younggentleman was of an excellent--indeed of an illustrious family, but, bya variety of untoward events, had been reduced to such poverty that theenergy of his character succumbed beneath it, and he ceased to bestirhimself in the world, or to care for the retrieval of his fortunes. By courtesy of his creditors, there still remained in his possession asmall remnant of his patrimony; and, upon the income arising from this, he managed, by means of a rigorous economy, to procure the necessariesof life, without troubling himself about its superfluities. Books, indeed, were his sole luxuries, and in Paris these are easily obtained. 

Our first meeting was at an obscure library in the Rue Montmartre, wherethe accident of our both being in search of the same very rare and veryremarkable volume, brought us into closer communion. We saw each otheragain and again. I was deeply interested in the little family historywhich he detailed to me with all that candor which a Frenchman indulgeswhenever mere self is his theme. I was astonished, too, at the vastextent of his reading; and, above all, I felt my soul enkindled withinme by the wild fervor, and the vivid freshness of his imagination. Seeking in Paris the objects I then sought, I felt that the society ofsuch a man would be to me a treasure beyond price; and this feeling Ifrankly confided to him. It was at length arranged that we should livetogether during my stay in the city; and as my worldly circumstanceswere somewhat less embarrassed than his own, I was permitted to beat the expense of renting, and furnishing in a style which suited therather fantastic gloom of our common temper, a time-eaten and grotesquemansion, long deserted through superstitions into which we did notinquire, and tottering to its fall in a retired and desolate portion ofthe Faubourg St. Germain. 

Had the routine of our life at this place been known to the world, weshould have been regarded as madmen--although, perhaps, as madmen ofa harmless nature. Our seclusion was perfect. We admitted no visitors. Indeed the locality of our retirement had been carefully kept a secretfrom my own former associates; and it had been many years since Dupinhad ceased to know or be known in Paris. We existed within ourselvesalone. 

It was a freak of fancy in my friend (for what else shall I call it?) tobe enamored of the Night for her own sake; and into this _bizarrerie_, as into all his others, I quietly fell; giving myself up to his wildwhims with a perfect _abandon_. The sable divinity would not herselfdwell with us always; but we could counterfeit her presence. At thefirst dawn of the morning we closed all the messy shutters of our oldbuilding; lighting a couple of tapers which, strongly perfumed, threwout only the ghastliest and feeblest of rays. By the aid of these wethen busied our souls in dreams--reading, writing, or conversing, untilwarned by the clock of the advent of the true Darkness. Then we salliedforth into the streets arm in arm, continuing the topics of the day, orroaming far and wide until a late hour, seeking, amid the wild lightsand shadows of the populous city, that infinity of mental excitementwhich quiet observation can afford. 

At such times I could not help remarking and admiring (although fromhis rich ideality I had been prepared to expect it) a peculiar analyticability in Dupin. He seemed, too, to take an eager delight in itsexercise--if not exactly in its display--and did not hesitate to confessthe pleasure thus derived. He boasted to me, with a low chuckling laugh, that most men, in respect to himself, wore windows in their bosoms, and was wont to follow up such assertions by direct and very startlingproofs of his intimate knowledge of my own. His manner at these momentswas frigid and abstract; his eyes were vacant in expression; while hisvoice, usually a rich tenor, rose into a treble which would have soundedpetulantly but for the deliberateness and entire distinctness of theenunciation. Observing him in these moods, I often dwelt meditativelyupon the old philosophy of the Bi-Part Soul, and amused myself with thefancy of a double Dupin--the creative and the resolvent. 

Let it not be supposed, from what I have just said, that I am detailingany mystery, or penning any romance. What I have described in theFrenchman, was merely the result of an excited, or perhaps of a diseasedintelligence. But of the character of his remarks at the periods inquestion an example will best convey the idea. 

We were strolling one night down a long dirty street in the vicinity ofthe Palais Royal. Being both, apparently, occupied with thought, neitherof us had spoken a syllable for fifteen minutes at least. All at onceDupin broke forth with these words:

"He is a very little fellow, that's true, and would do better for the_Théâtre des Variétés_. "

"There can be no doubt of that, " I replied unwittingly, and not at firstobserving (so much had I been absorbed in reflection) the extraordinarymanner in which the speaker had chimed in with my meditations. Inan instant afterward I recollected myself, and my astonishment wasprofound. 

"Dupin, " said I, gravely, "this is beyond my comprehension. I do nothesitate to say that I am amazed, and can scarcely credit my senses. Howwas it possible you should know I was thinking of -----?" Here I paused, to ascertain beyond a doubt whether he really knew of whom I thought. 

--"of Chantilly, " said he, "why do you pause? You were remarking toyourself that his diminutive figure unfitted him for tragedy. "

This was precisely what had formed the subject of my reflections. Chantilly was a _quondam_ cobbler of the Rue St. Denis, who, becomingstage-mad, had attempted the _rôle_ of Xerxes, in Crébillon's tragedy socalled, and been notoriously Pasquinaded for his pains. 

"Tell me, for Heaven's sake, " I exclaimed, "the method--if method thereis--by which you have been enabled to fathom my soul in this matter. " Infact I was even more startled than I would have been willing to express. 

"It was the fruiterer, " replied my friend, "who brought you to theconclusion that the mender of soles was not of sufficient height forXerxes _et id genus omne_. "

"The fruiterer!--you astonish me--I know no fruiterer whomsoever. "

"The man who ran up against you as we entered the street--it may havebeen fifteen minutes ago. "

I now remembered that, in fact, a fruiterer, carrying upon his head alarge basket of apples, had nearly thrown me down, by accident, as wepassed from the Rue C ---- into the thoroughfare where we stood; butwhat this had to do with Chantilly I could not possibly understand. 

There was not a particle of _charlâtanerie_ about Dupin. "I willexplain, " he said, "and that you may comprehend all clearly, we willfirst retrace the course of your meditations, from the moment in whichI spoke to you until that of the _rencontre_ with the fruiterer inquestion. The larger links of the chain run thus--Chantilly, Orion, Dr. Nichols, Epicurus, Stereotomy, the street stones, the fruiterer. "

There are few persons who have not, at some period of their lives, amused themselves in retracing the steps by which particular conclusionsof their own minds have been attained. The occupation is often full ofinterest and he who attempts it for the first time is astonished bythe apparently illimitable distance and incoherence between thestarting-point and the goal. What, then, must have been my amazementwhen I heard the Frenchman speak what he had just spoken, and when Icould not help acknowledging that he had spoken the truth. He continued:

"We had been talking of horses, if I remember aright, just beforeleaving the Rue C ----. This was the last subject we discussed. As wecrossed into this street, a fruiterer, with a large basket upon hishead, brushing quickly past us, thrust you upon a pile of paving stonescollected at a spot where the causeway is undergoing repair. You steppedupon one of the loose fragments, slipped, slightly strained your ankle, appeared vexed or sulky, muttered a few words, turned to look at thepile, and then proceeded in silence. I was not particularly attentive towhat you did; but observation has become with me, of late, a species ofnecessity. 

"You kept your eyes upon the ground--glancing, with a petulantexpression, at the holes and ruts in the pavement, (so that I saw youwere still thinking of the stones, ) until we reached the little alleycalled Lamartine, which has been paved, by way of experiment, with theoverlapping and riveted blocks. Here your countenance brightened up, and, perceiving your lips move, I could not doubt that you murmured theword 'stereotomy, ' a term very affectedly applied to this species ofpavement. I knew that you could not say to yourself 'stereotomy' withoutbeing brought to think of atomies, and thus of the theories of Epicurus;and since, when we discussed this subject not very long ago, I mentionedto you how singularly, yet with how little notice, the vague guessesof that noble Greek had met with confirmation in the late nebularcosmogony, I felt that you could not avoid casting your eyes upward tothe great _nebula_ in Orion, and I certainly expected that you would doso. You did look up; and I was now assured that I had correctly followedyour steps. But in that bitter _tirade_ upon Chantilly, which appearedin yesterday's '_Musée_, ' the satirist, making some disgracefulallusions to the cobbler s change of name upon assuming the buskin, quoted a Latin line about which we have often conversed. I mean the line

 Perdidit antiquum litera sonum. 

"I had told you that this was in reference to Orion, formerly writtenUrion; and, from certain pungencies connected with this explanation, Iwas aware that you could not have forgotten it. It was clear, therefore, that you would not fail to combine the two ideas of Orion and Chantilly. That you did combine them I saw by the character of the smile whichpassed over your lips. You thought of the poor cobbler's immolation. Sofar, you had been stooping in your gait; but now I saw you draw yourselfup to your full height. I was then sure that you reflected upon thediminutive figure of Chantilly. At this point I interrupted yourmeditations to remark that as, in fact, he was a very littlefellow--that Chantilly--he would do better at the _Théâtre desVariétés_. "

Not long after this, we were looking over an evening edition of the"Gazette des Tribunaux, " when the following paragraphs arrested ourattention. 

"EXTRAORDINARY MURDERS. --This morning, about three o'clock, theinhabitants of the Quartier St. Roch were aroused from sleep by asuccession of terrific shrieks, issuing, apparently, from the fourthstory of a house in the Rue Morgue, known to be in the sole occupancy ofone Madame L'Espanaye, and her daughter Mademoiselle Camille L'Espanaye. After some delay, occasioned by a fruitless attempt to procure admissionin the usual manner, the gateway was broken in with a crowbar, and eightor ten of the neighbors entered accompanied by two _gendarmes_. By thistime the cries had ceased; but, as the party rushed up the firstflight of stairs, two or more rough voices in angry contention weredistinguished and seemed to proceed from the upper part of the house. As the second landing was reached, these sounds, also, had ceased andeverything remained perfectly quiet. The party spread themselves andhurried from room to room. Upon arriving at a large back chamber inthe fourth story, (the door of which, being found locked, with the keyinside, was forced open, ) a spectacle presented itself which struckevery one present not less with horror than with astonishment. 

"The apartment was in the wildest disorder--the furniture broken andthrown about in all directions. There was only one bedstead; and fromthis the bed had been removed, and thrown into the middle of the floor. On a chair lay a razor, besmeared with blood. On the hearth were two orthree long and thick tresses of grey human hair, also dabbled in blood, and seeming to have been pulled out by the roots. Upon the floor werefound four Napoleons, an ear-ring of topaz, three large silver spoons, three smaller of_ métal d'Alger_, and two bags, containing nearly fourthousand francs in gold. The drawers of a _bureau_, which stood inone corner were open, and had been, apparently, rifled, although manyarticles still remained in them. A small iron safe was discovered underthe _bed_ (not under the bedstead). It was open, with the key still inthe door. It had no contents beyond a few old letters, and other papersof little consequence. 

"Of Madame L'Espanaye no traces were here seen; but an unusual quantityof soot being observed in the fire-place, a search was made in thechimney, and (horrible to relate!) the corpse of the daughter, headdownward, was dragged therefrom; it having been thus forced up thenarrow aperture for a considerable distance. The body was quite warm. Upon examining it, many excoriations were perceived, no doubt occasionedby the violence with which it had been thrust up and disengaged. Uponthe face were many severe scratches, and, upon the throat, dark bruises, and deep indentations of finger nails, as if the deceased had beenthrottled to death. 

"After a thorough investigation of every portion of the house, withoutfarther discovery, the party made its way into a small paved yard inthe rear of the building, where lay the corpse of the old lady, with herthroat so entirely cut that, upon an attempt to raise her, the head felloff. The body, as well as the head, was fearfully mutilated--the formerso much so as scarcely to retain any semblance of humanity. 

"To this horrible mystery there is not as yet, we believe, the slightestclew. "

The next day's paper had these additional particulars. 

"_The Tragedy in the Rue Morgue. _ Many individuals have been examinedin relation to this most extraordinary and frightful affair. [The word'affaire' has not yet, in France, that levity of import which it conveyswith us, ] "but nothing whatever has transpired to throw light upon it. We give below all the material testimony elicited. 

"_Pauline Dubourg_, laundress, deposes that she has known both thedeceased for three years, having washed for them during that period. The old lady and her daughter seemed on good terms--very affectionatetowards each other. They were excellent pay. Could not speak in regardto their mode or means of living. Believed that Madame L. Told fortunesfor a living. Was reputed to have money put by. Never met any personsin the house when she called for the clothes or took them home. Was surethat they had no servant in employ. There appeared to be no furniture inany part of the building except in the fourth story. 

"_Pierre Moreau_, tobacconist, deposes that he has been in the habit ofselling small quantities of tobacco and snuff to Madame L'Espanaye fornearly four years. Was born in the neighborhood, and has always residedthere. The deceased and her daughter had occupied the house in which thecorpses were found, for more than six years. It was formerly occupied bya jeweller, who under-let the upper rooms to various persons. The housewas the property of Madame L. She became dissatisfied with the abuse ofthe premises by her tenant, and moved into them herself, refusing to letany portion. The old lady was childish. Witness had seen the daughtersome five or six times during the six years. The two lived anexceedingly retired life--were reputed to have money. Had heard it saidamong the neighbors that Madame L. Told fortunes--did not believe it. Had never seen any person enter the door except the old lady and herdaughter, a porter once or twice, and a physician some eight or tentimes. 

"Many other persons, neighbors, gave evidence to the same effect. No onewas spoken of as frequenting the house. It was not known whether therewere any living connexions of Madame L. And her daughter. The shuttersof the front windows were seldom opened. Those in the rear were alwaysclosed, with the exception of the large back room, fourth story. Thehouse was a good house--not very old. 

"_Isidore Muset_, _gendarme_, deposes that he was called to the houseabout three o'clock in the morning, and found some twenty or thirtypersons at the gateway, endeavoring to gain admittance. Forced it open, at length, with a bayonet--not with a crowbar. Had but little difficultyin getting it open, on account of its being a double or folding gate, and bolted neither at bottom not top. The shrieks were continued untilthe gate was forced--and then suddenly ceased. They seemed to be screamsof some person (or persons) in great agony--were loud and drawn out, not short and quick. Witness led the way up stairs. Upon reaching thefirst landing, heard two voices in loud and angry contention--the onea gruff voice, the other much shriller--a very strange voice. Coulddistinguish some words of the former, which was that of a Frenchman. Waspositive that it was not a woman's voice. Could distinguish the words'_sacré_' and '_diable. _' The shrill voice was that of a foreigner. Could not be sure whether it was the voice of a man or of a woman. Couldnot make out what was said, but believed the language to be Spanish. Thestate of the room and of the bodies was described by this witness as wedescribed them yesterday. 

"_Henri Duval_, a neighbor, and by trade a silver-smith, deposes thathe was one of the party who first entered the house. Corroborates thetestimony of Musèt in general. As soon as they forced an entrance, theyreclosed the door, to keep out the crowd, which collected very fast, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour. The shrill voice, this witnessthinks, was that of an Italian. Was certain it was not French. Could notbe sure that it was a man's voice. It might have been a woman's. Was notacquainted with the Italian language. Could not distinguish the words, but was convinced by the intonation that the speaker was an Italian. Knew Madame L. And her daughter. Had conversed with both frequently. Wassure that the shrill voice was not that of either of the deceased. 

"--_Odenheimer, restaurateur. _ This witness volunteered his testimony. Not speaking French, was examined through an interpreter. Is a native ofAmsterdam. Was passing the house at the time of the shrieks. They lastedfor several minutes--probably ten. They were long and loud--very awfuland distressing. Was one of those who entered the building. Corroboratedthe previous evidence in every respect but one. Was sure that the shrillvoice was that of a man--of a Frenchman. Could not distinguish thewords uttered. They were loud and quick--unequal--spoken apparently infear as well as in anger. The voice was harsh--not so much shrill asharsh. Could not call it a shrill voice. The gruff voice said repeatedly'_sacré_, ' '_diable_, ' and once '_mon Dieu. _'

"_Jules Mignaud_, banker, of the firm of Mignaud et Fils, Rue Deloraine. Is the elder Mignaud. Madame L'Espanaye had some property. Had opened anaccount with his banking house in the spring of the year--(eight yearspreviously). Made frequent deposits in small sums. Had checked fornothing until the third day before her death, when she took out inperson the sum of 4000 francs. This sum was paid in gold, and a clerkwent home with the money. 

"_Adolphe Le Bon_, clerk to Mignaud et Fils, deposes that on the day inquestion, about noon, he accompanied Madame L'Espanaye to her residencewith the 4000 francs, put up in two bags. Upon the door being opened, Mademoiselle L. Appeared and took from his hands one of the bags, whilethe old lady relieved him of the other. He then bowed and departed. Didnot see any person in the street at the time. It is a bye-street--verylonely. 

"_William Bird_, tailor deposes that he was one of the party who enteredthe house. Is an Englishman. Has lived in Paris two years. Was one ofthe first to ascend the stairs. Heard the voices in contention. Thegruff voice was that of a Frenchman. Could make out several words, butcannot now remember all. Heard distinctly '_sacré_' and '_mon Dieu. _'There was a sound at the moment as if of several persons struggling--ascraping and scuffling sound. The shrill voice was very loud--louderthan the gruff one. Is sure that it was not the voice of an Englishman. Appeared to be that of a German. Might have been a woman's voice. Doesnot understand German. 

"Four of the above-named witnesses, being recalled, deposed that thedoor of the chamber in which was found the body of Mademoiselle L. Was locked on the inside when the party reached it. Every thing wasperfectly silent--no groans or noises of any kind. Upon forcing the doorno person was seen. The windows, both of the back and front room, weredown and firmly fastened from within. A door between the two rooms wasclosed, but not locked. The door leading from the front room into thepassage was locked, with the key on the inside. A small room in thefront of the house, on the fourth story, at the head of the passage wasopen, the door being ajar. This room was crowded with old beds, boxes, and so forth. These were carefully removed and searched. There was notan inch of any portion of the house which was not carefully searched. Sweeps were sent up and down the chimneys. The house was a four storyone, with garrets (_mansardes. _) A trap-door on the roof was nailed downvery securely--did not appear to have been opened for years. Thetime elapsing between the hearing of the voices in contention and thebreaking open of the room door, was variously stated by the witnesses. Some made it as short as three minutes--some as long as five. The doorwas opened with difficulty. 

"_Alfonzo Garcio_, undertaker, deposes that he resides in the RueMorgue. Is a native of Spain. Was one of the party who entered thehouse. Did not proceed up stairs. Is nervous, and was apprehensive ofthe consequences of agitation. Heard the voices in contention. The gruffvoice was that of a Frenchman. Could not distinguish what was said. The shrill voice was that of an Englishman--is sure of this. Does notunderstand the English language, but judges by the intonation. 

"_Alberto Montani_, confectioner, deposes that he was among the firstto ascend the stairs. Heard the voices in question. The gruff voice wasthat of a Frenchman. Distinguished several words. The speaker appearedto be expostulating. Could not make out the words of the shrill voice. Spoke quick and unevenly. Thinks it the voice of a Russian. Corroboratesthe general testimony. Is an Italian. Never conversed with a native ofRussia. 

"Several witnesses, recalled, here testified that the chimneys of allthe rooms on the fourth story were too narrow to admit the passage of ahuman being. By 'sweeps' were meant cylindrical sweeping brushes, suchas are employed by those who clean chimneys. These brushes were passedup and down every flue in the house. There is no back passage by whichany one could have descended while the party proceeded up stairs. Thebody of Mademoiselle L'Espanaye was so firmly wedged in the chimney thatit could not be got down until four or five of the party united theirstrength. 

"_Paul Dumas_, physician, deposes that he was called to view thebodies about day-break. They were both then lying on the sacking of thebedstead in the chamber where Mademoiselle L. Was found. The corpse ofthe young lady was much bruised and excoriated. The fact that ithad been thrust up the chimney would sufficiently account for theseappearances. The throat was greatly chafed. There were several deepscratches just below the chin, together with a series of livid spotswhich were evidently the impression of fingers. The face was fearfullydiscolored, and the eye-balls protruded. The tongue had been partiallybitten through. A large bruise was discovered upon the pit of thestomach, produced, apparently, by the pressure of a knee. In the opinionof M. Dumas, Mademoiselle L'Espanaye had been throttled to death bysome person or persons unknown. The corpse of the mother was horriblymutilated. All the bones of the right leg and arm were more or lessshattered. The left _tibia_ much splintered, as well as all the ribs ofthe left side. Whole body dreadfully bruised and discolored. It was notpossible to say how the injuries had been inflicted. A heavy club ofwood, or a broad bar of iron--a chair--any large, heavy, and obtuseweapon would have produced such results, if wielded by the hands ofa very powerful man. No woman could have inflicted the blows with anyweapon. The head of the deceased, when seen by witness, was entirelyseparated from the body, and was also greatly shattered. The throathad evidently been cut with some very sharp instrument--probably with arazor. 

"_Alexandre Etienne_, surgeon, was called with M. Dumas to view thebodies. Corroborated the testimony, and the opinions of M. Dumas. 

"Nothing farther of importance was elicited, although several otherpersons were examined. A murder so mysterious, and so perplexing in allits particulars, was never before committed in Paris--if indeed a murderhas been committed at all. The police are entirely at fault--an unusualoccurrence in affairs of this nature. There is not, however, the shadowof a clew apparent. "

The evening edition of the paper stated that the greatest excitementstill continued in the Quartier St. Roch--that the premises in questionhad been carefully re-searched, and fresh examinations of witnessesinstituted, but all to no purpose. A postscript, however, mentionedthat Adolphe Le Bon had been arrested and imprisoned--although nothingappeared to criminate him, beyond the facts already detailed. 

Dupin seemed singularly interested in the progress of this affair--atleast so I judged from his manner, for he made no comments. It was onlyafter the announcement that Le Bon had been imprisoned, that he asked memy opinion respecting the murders. 

I could merely agree with all Paris in considering them an insolublemystery. I saw no means by which it would be possible to trace themurderer. 

"We must not judge of the means, " said Dupin, "by this shell of anexamination. The Parisian police, so much extolled for _acumen_, arecunning, but no more. There is no method in their proceedings, beyondthe method of the moment. They make a vast parade of measures; but, notunfrequently, these are so ill adapted to the objects proposed, asto put us in mind of Monsieur Jourdain's calling for his_robe-de-chambre--pour mieux entendre la musique. _ The results attainedby them are not unfrequently surprising, but, for the most part, arebrought about by simple diligence and activity. When these qualities areunavailing, their schemes fail. Vidocq, for example, was a goodguesser and a persevering man. But, without educated thought, he erredcontinually by the very intensity of his investigations. He impaired hisvision by holding the object too close. He might see, perhaps, one ortwo points with unusual clearness, but in so doing he, necessarily, lostsight of the matter as a whole. Thus there is such a thing as being tooprofound. Truth is not always in a well. In fact, as regards the moreimportant knowledge, I do believe that she is invariably superficial. The depth lies in the valleys where we seek her, and not upon themountain-tops where she is found. The modes and sources of this kind oferror are well typified in the contemplation of the heavenly bodies. To look at a star by glances--to view it in a side-long way, by turningtoward it the exterior portions of the _retina_ (more susceptible offeeble impressions of light than the interior), is to behold the stardistinctly--is to have the best appreciation of its lustre--a lustrewhich grows dim just in proportion as we turn our vision _fully_ uponit. A greater number of rays actually fall upon the eye in the lattercase, but, in the former, there is the more refined capacity forcomprehension. By undue profundity we perplex and enfeeble thought; andit is possible to make even Venus herself vanish from the firmanent by ascrutiny too sustained, too concentrated, or too direct. 

"As for these murders, let us enter into some examinations forourselves, before we make up an opinion respecting them. An inquiry willafford us amusement, " [I thought this an odd term, so applied, but saidnothing] "and, besides, Le Bon once rendered me a service for which Iam not ungrateful. We will go and see the premises with our own eyes. I know G----, the Prefect of Police, and shall have no difficulty inobtaining the necessary permission. "

The permission was obtained, and we proceeded at once to the Rue Morgue. This is one of those miserable thoroughfares which intervene between theRue Richelieu and the Rue St. Roch. It was late in the afternoon when wereached it; as this quarter is at a great distance from that in which weresided. The house was readily found; for there were still many personsgazing up at the closed shutters, with an objectless curiosity, fromthe opposite side of the way. It was an ordinary Parisian house, witha gateway, on one side of which was a glazed watch-box, with a slidingpanel in the window, indicating a _loge de concierge. _ Before going inwe walked up the street, turned down an alley, and then, again turning, passed in the rear of the building--Dupin, meanwhile examining the wholeneighborhood, as well as the house, with a minuteness of attention forwhich I could see no possible object. 

Retracing our steps, we came again to the front of the dwelling, rang, and, having shown our credentials, were admitted by the agentsin charge. We went up stairs--into the chamber where the body ofMademoiselle L'Espanaye had been found, and where both the deceasedstill lay. The disorders of the room had, as usual, been suffered toexist. I saw nothing beyond what had been stated in the "Gazette desTribunaux. " Dupin scrutinized every thing--not excepting the bodies ofthe victims. We then went into the other rooms, and into the yard; a_gendarme_ accompanying us throughout. The examination occupied us untildark, when we took our departure. On our way home my companion steppedin for a moment at the office of one of the daily papers. 

I have said that the whims of my friend were manifold, and that _Je lesménagais_:--for this phrase there is no English equivalent. It was hishumor, now, to decline all conversation on the subject of the murder, until about noon the next day. He then asked me, suddenly, if I hadobserved any thing _peculiar_ at the scene of the atrocity. 

There was something in his manner of emphasizing the word "peculiar, "which caused me to shudder, without knowing why. 

"No, nothing _peculiar_, " I said; "nothing more, at least, than we bothsaw stated in the paper. "

"The 'Gazette, '" he replied, "has not entered, I fear, into the unusualhorror of the thing. But dismiss the idle opinions of this print. Itappears to me that this mystery is considered insoluble, for the veryreason which should cause it to be regarded as easy of solution--I meanfor the _outré_ character of its features. The police are confounded bythe seeming absence of motive--not for the murder itself--but forthe atrocity of the murder. They are puzzled, too, by the seemingimpossibility of reconciling the voices heard in contention, withthe facts that no one was discovered up stairs but the assassinatedMademoiselle L'Espanaye, and that there were no means of egress withoutthe notice of the party ascending. The wild disorder of the room; thecorpse thrust, with the head downward, up the chimney; the frightfulmutilation of the body of the old lady; these considerations, with thosejust mentioned, and others which I need not mention, have sufficedto paralyze the powers, by putting completely at fault the boasted_acumen_, of the government agents. They have fallen into the gross butcommon error of confounding the unusual with the abstruse. But it is bythese deviations from the plane of the ordinary, that reason feels itsway, if at all, in its search for the true. In investigations such as weare now pursuing, it should not be so much asked 'what has occurred, 'as 'what has occurred that has never occurred before. ' In fact, thefacility with which I shall arrive, or have arrived, at the solution ofthis mystery, is in the direct ratio of its apparent insolubility in theeyes of the police. "

I stared at the speaker in mute astonishment. 

"I am now awaiting, " continued he, looking toward the door of ourapartment--"I am now awaiting a person who, although perhaps notthe perpetrator of these butcheries, must have been in some measureimplicated in their perpetration. Of the worst portion of the crimescommitted, it is probable that he is innocent. I hope that I am rightin this supposition; for upon it I build my expectation of reading theentire riddle. I look for the man here--in this room--every moment. Itis true that he may not arrive; but the probability is that he will. Should he come, it will be necessary to detain him. Here are pistols;and we both know how to use them when occasion demands their use. "

I took the pistols, scarcely knowing what I did, or believing whatI heard, while Dupin went on, very much as if in a soliloquy. I havealready spoken of his abstract manner at such times. His discourse wasaddressed to myself; but his voice, although by no means loud, had thatintonation which is commonly employed in speaking to some one at a greatdistance. His eyes, vacant in expression, regarded only the wall. 

"That the voices heard in contention, " he said, "by the party upon thestairs, were not the voices of the women themselves, was fully provedby the evidence. This relieves us of all doubt upon the question whetherthe old lady could have first destroyed the daughter and afterward havecommitted suicide. I speak of this point chiefly for the sake of method;for the strength of Madame L'Espanaye would have been utterly unequalto the task of thrusting her daughter's corpse up the chimney as itwas found; and the nature of the wounds upon her own person entirelypreclude the idea of self-destruction. Murder, then, has been committedby some third party; and the voices of this third party were those heardin contention. Let me now advert--not to the whole testimony respectingthese voices--but to what was _peculiar_ in that testimony. Did youobserve any thing peculiar about it?"

I remarked that, while all the witnesses agreed in supposing the gruffvoice to be that of a Frenchman, there was much disagreement in regardto the shrill, or, as one individual termed it, the harsh voice. 

"That was the evidence itself, " said Dupin, "but it was not thepeculiarity of the evidence. You have observed nothing distinctive. Yet there _was_ something to be observed. The witnesses, as you remark, agreed about the gruff voice; they were here unanimous. But in regard tothe shrill voice, the peculiarity is--not that they disagreed--butthat, while an Italian, an Englishman, a Spaniard, a Hollander, and aFrenchman attempted to describe it, each one spoke of it as that _ofa foreigner_. Each is sure that it was not the voice of one of his owncountrymen. Each likens it--not to the voice of an individual of anynation with whose language he is conversant--but the converse. The Frenchman supposes it the voice of a Spaniard, and 'might havedistinguished some words _had he been acquainted with the Spanish. _' TheDutchman maintains it to have been that of a Frenchman; but we find itstated that '_not understanding French this witness was examined throughan interpreter. _' The Englishman thinks it the voice of a German, and'_does not understand German. _' The Spaniard 'is sure' that it was thatof an Englishman, but 'judges by the intonation' altogether, '_as he hasno knowledge of the English. _' The Italian believes it the voice of aRussian, but '_has never conversed with a native of Russia. _' A secondFrenchman differs, moreover, with the first, and is positive that thevoice was that of an Italian; but, _not being cognizant of that tongue_, is, like the Spaniard, 'convinced by the intonation. ' Now, how strangelyunusual must that voice have really been, about which such testimony asthis _could_ have been elicited!--in whose _tones_, even, denizens ofthe five great divisions of Europe could recognise nothing familiar! Youwill say that it might have been the voice of an Asiatic--of an African. Neither Asiatics nor Africans abound in Paris; but, without denying theinference, I will now merely call your attention to three points. The voice is termed by one witness 'harsh rather than shrill. ' Itis represented by two others to have been 'quick and _unequal. _' Nowords--no sounds resembling words--were by any witness mentioned asdistinguishable. 

"I know not, " continued Dupin, "what impression I may have made, sofar, upon your own understanding; but I do not hesitate to say thatlegitimate deductions even from this portion of the testimony--theportion respecting the gruff and shrill voices--are in themselvessufficient to engender a suspicion which should give direction to allfarther progress in the investigation of the mystery. I said 'legitimatedeductions;' but my meaning is not thus fully expressed. I designedto imply that the deductions are the _sole_ proper ones, and that thesuspicion arises _inevitably_ from them as the single result. What thesuspicion is, however, I will not say just yet. I merely wish you tobear in mind that, with myself, it was sufficiently forcible to give adefinite form--a certain tendency--to my inquiries in the chamber. 

"Let us now transport ourselves, in fancy, to this chamber. What shallwe first seek here? The means of egress employed by the murderers. It isnot too much to say that neither of us believe in præternatural events. Madame and Mademoiselle L'Espanaye were not destroyed by spirits. Thedoers of the deed were material, and escaped materially. Then how?Fortunately, there is but one mode of reasoning upon the point, and thatmode _must_ lead us to a definite decision. --Let us examine, each byeach, the possible means of egress. It is clear that the assassins werein the room where Mademoiselle L'Espanaye was found, or at least in theroom adjoining, when the party ascended the stairs. It is then only fromthese two apartments that we have to seek issues. The police have laidbare the floors, the ceilings, and the masonry of the walls, in everydirection. No _secret_ issues could have escaped their vigilance. But, not trusting to _their_ eyes, I examined with my own. There were, then, no secret issues. Both doors leading from the rooms into the passagewere securely locked, with the keys inside. Let us turn to the chimneys. These, although of ordinary width for some eight or ten feet above thehearths, will not admit, throughout their extent, the body of a largecat. The impossibility of egress, by means already stated, being thusabsolute, we are reduced to the windows. Through those of the front roomno one could have escaped without notice from the crowd in the street. The murderers _must_ have passed, then, through those of the back room. Now, brought to this conclusion in so unequivocal a manner as we are, it is not our part, as reasoners, to reject it on account of apparentimpossibilities. It is only left for us to prove that these apparent'impossibilities' are, in reality, not such. 

"There are two windows in the chamber. One of them is unobstructed byfurniture, and is wholly visible. The lower portion of the other ishidden from view by the head of the unwieldy bedstead which is thrustclose up against it. The former was found securely fastened from within. It resisted the utmost force of those who endeavored to raise it. Alarge gimlet-hole had been pierced in its frame to the left, and a verystout nail was found fitted therein, nearly to the head. Upon examiningthe other window, a similar nail was seen similarly fitted in it; anda vigorous attempt to raise this sash, failed also. The police were nowentirely satisfied that egress had not been in these directions. And, _therefore_, it was thought a matter of supererogation to withdraw thenails and open the windows. 

"My own examination was somewhat more particular, and was so for thereason I have just given--because here it was, I knew, that all apparentimpossibilities _must_ be proved to be not such in reality. 

"I proceeded to think thus--_à posteriori_. The murderers did escapefrom one of these windows. This being so, they could not have refastenedthe sashes from the inside, as they were found fastened;--theconsideration which put a stop, through its obviousness, to the scrutinyof the police in this quarter. Yet the sashes _were_ fastened. They_must_, then, have the power of fastening themselves. There was noescape from this conclusion. I stepped to the unobstructed casement, withdrew the nail with some difficulty and attempted to raise the sash. It resisted all my efforts, as I had anticipated. A concealed springmust, I now know, exist; and this corroboration of my idea convincedme that my premises at least, were correct, however mysterious stillappeared the circumstances attending the nails. A careful search soonbrought to light the hidden spring. I pressed it, and, satisfied withthe discovery, forbore to upraise the sash. 

"I now replaced the nail and regarded it attentively. A person passingout through this window might have reclosed it, and the spring wouldhave caught--but the nail could not have been replaced. The conclusionwas plain, and again narrowed in the field of my investigations. Theassassins _must_ have escaped through the other window. Supposing, then, the springs upon each sash to be the same, as was probable, there _must_be found a difference between the nails, or at least between the modesof their fixture. Getting upon the sacking of the bedstead, I lookedover the head-board minutely at the second casement. Passing my handdown behind the board, I readily discovered and pressed the spring, which was, as I had supposed, identical in character with its neighbor. I now looked at the nail. It was as stout as the other, and apparentlyfitted in the same manner--driven in nearly up to the head. 

"You will say that I was puzzled; but, if you think so, you must havemisunderstood the nature of the inductions. To use a sporting phrase, I had not been once 'at fault. ' The scent had never for an instantbeen lost. There was no flaw in any link of the chain. I had traced thesecret to its ultimate result, --and that result was _the nail. _ Ithad, I say, in every respect, the appearance of its fellow in the otherwindow; but this fact was an absolute nullity (conclusive us it mightseem to be) when compared with the consideration that here, at thispoint, terminated the clew. 'There _must_ be something wrong, ' I said, 'about the nail. ' I touched it; and the head, with about a quarter of aninch of the shank, came off in my fingers. The rest of the shank was inthe gimlet-hole where it had been broken off. The fracture was an oldone (for its edges were incrusted with rust), and had apparently beenaccomplished by the blow of a hammer, which had partially imbedded, in the top of the bottom sash, the head portion of the nail. I nowcarefully replaced this head portion in the indentation whence I hadtaken it, and the resemblance to a perfect nail was complete--thefissure was invisible. Pressing the spring, I gently raised the sashfor a few inches; the head went up with it, remaining firm in its bed. I closed the window, and the semblance of the whole nail was againperfect. 

"The riddle, so far, was now unriddled. The assassin had escaped throughthe window which looked upon the bed. Dropping of its own accord uponhis exit (or perhaps purposely closed), it had become fastened by thespring; and it was the retention of this spring which had been mistakenby the police for that of the nail, --farther inquiry being thusconsidered unnecessary. 

"The next question is that of the mode of descent. Upon this point I hadbeen satisfied in my walk with you around the building. About five feetand a half from the casement in question there runs a lightning-rod. From this rod it would have been impossible for any one to reach thewindow itself, to say nothing of entering it. I observed, however, thatthe shutters of the fourth story were of the peculiar kind called byParisian carpenters _ferrades_--a kind rarely employed at the presentday, but frequently seen upon very old mansions at Lyons and Bourdeaux. They are in the form of an ordinary door, (a single, not a folding door)except that the lower half is latticed or worked in open trellis--thusaffording an excellent hold for the hands. In the present instance theseshutters are fully three feet and a half broad. When we saw them fromthe rear of the house, they were both about half open--that is to say, they stood off at right angles from the wall. It is probable that thepolice, as well as myself, examined the back of the tenement; but, ifso, in looking at these _ferrades_ in the line of their breadth (as theymust have done), they did not perceive this great breadth itself, or, at all events, failed to take it into due consideration. In fact, havingonce satisfied themselves that no egress could have been made in thisquarter, they would naturally bestow here a very cursory examination. It was clear to me, however, that the shutter belonging to the windowat the head of the bed, would, if swung fully back to the wall, reachto within two feet of the lightning-rod. It was also evident that, byexertion of a very unusual degree of activity and courage, an entranceinto the window, from the rod, might have been thus effected. --Byreaching to the distance of two feet and a half (we now suppose theshutter open to its whole extent) a robber might have taken a firm graspupon the trellis-work. Letting go, then, his hold upon the rod, placinghis feet securely against the wall, and springing boldly from it, hemight have swung the shutter so as to close it, and, if we imagine thewindow open at the time, might even have swung himself into the room. 

"I wish you to bear especially in mind that I have spoken of a _very_unusual degree of activity as requisite to success in so hazardous andso difficult a feat. It is my design to show you, first, that the thingmight possibly have been accomplished:--but, secondly and _chiefly_, Iwish to impress upon your understanding the _very extraordinary_--thealmost præternatural character of that agility which could haveaccomplished it. 

"You will say, no doubt, using the language of the law, that 'to makeout my case, ' I should rather undervalue, than insist upon a fullestimation of the activity required in this matter. This may be thepractice in law, but it is not the usage of reason. My ultimate objectis only the truth. My immediate purpose is to lead you to place injuxtaposition, that _very unusual_ activity of which I have just spokenwith that _very peculiar_ shrill (or harsh) and _unequal_ voice, aboutwhose nationality no two persons could be found to agree, and in whoseutterance no syllabification could be detected. "

At these words a vague and half-formed conception of the meaningof Dupin flitted over my mind. I seemed to be upon the verge ofcomprehension without power to comprehend--men, at times, findthemselves upon the brink of remembrance without being able, in the end, to remember. My friend went on with his discourse. 

"You will see, " he said, "that I have shifted the question from the modeof egress to that of ingress. It was my design to convey the idea thatboth were effected in the same manner, at the same point. Let us nowrevert to the interior of the room. Let us survey the appearances here. The drawers of the bureau, it is said, had been rifled, although manyarticles of apparel still remained within them. The conclusion here isabsurd. It is a mere guess--a very silly one--and no more. How arewe to know that the articles found in the drawers were not all thesedrawers had originally contained? Madame L'Espanaye and her daughterlived an exceedingly retired life--saw no company--seldom went out--hadlittle use for numerous changes of habiliment. Those found were at leastof as good quality as any likely to be possessed by these ladies. If athief had taken any, why did he not take the best--why did he not takeall? In a word, why did he abandon four thousand francs in gold toencumber himself with a bundle of linen? The gold _was _abandoned. Nearly the whole sum mentioned by Monsieur Mignaud, the banker, wasdiscovered, in bags, upon the floor. I wish you, therefore, to discardfrom your thoughts the blundering idea of _motive_, engendered in thebrains of the police by that portion of the evidence which speaks ofmoney delivered at the door of the house. Coincidences ten times asremarkable as this (the delivery of the money, and murder committedwithin three days upon the party receiving it), happen to all of usevery hour of our lives, without attracting even momentary notice. Coincidences, in general, are great stumbling-blocks in the way of thatclass of thinkers who have been educated to know nothing of the theoryof probabilities--that theory to which the most glorious objects ofhuman research are indebted for the most glorious of illustration. Inthe present instance, had the gold been gone, the fact of its deliverythree days before would have formed something more than a coincidence. It would have been corroborative of this idea of motive. But, under thereal circumstances of the case, if we are to suppose gold the motiveof this outrage, we must also imagine the perpetrator so vacillating anidiot as to have abandoned his gold and his motive together. 

"Keeping now steadily in mind the points to which I have drawn yourattention--that peculiar voice, that unusual agility, and that startlingabsence of motive in a murder so singularly atrocious as this--let usglance at the butchery itself. Here is a woman strangled to deathby manual strength, and thrust up a chimney, head downward. Ordinaryassassins employ no such modes of murder as this. Least of all, do theythus dispose of the murdered. In the manner of thrusting the corpseup the chimney, you will admit that there was something _excessivelyoutré_--something altogether irreconcilable with our common notions ofhuman action, even when we suppose the actors the most depraved of men. Think, too, how great must have been that strength which could havethrust the body _up_ such an aperture so forcibly that the united vigorof several persons was found barely sufficient to drag it _down!_

"Turn, now, to other indications of the employment of a vigor mostmarvellous. On the hearth were thick tresses--very thick tresses--ofgrey human hair. These had been torn out by the roots. You are aware ofthe great force necessary in tearing thus from the head even twenty orthirty hairs together. You saw the locks in question as well as myself. Their roots (a hideous sight!) were clotted with fragments of the fleshof the scalp--sure token of the prodigious power which had been exertedin uprooting perhaps half a million of hairs at a time. The throat ofthe old lady was not merely cut, but the head absolutely severed fromthe body: the instrument was a mere razor. I wish you also to look atthe _brutal_ ferocity of these deeds. Of the bruises upon the bodyof Madame L'Espanaye I do not speak. Monsieur Dumas, and his worthycoadjutor Monsieur Etienne, have pronounced that they were inflicted bysome obtuse instrument; and so far these gentlemen are very correct. Theobtuse instrument was clearly the stone pavement in the yard, upon whichthe victim had fallen from the window which looked in upon the bed. Thisidea, however simple it may now seem, escaped the police for the samereason that the breadth of the shutters escaped them--because, by theaffair of the nails, their perceptions had been hermetically sealedagainst the possibility of the windows having ever been opened at all. 

"If now, in addition to all these things, you have properly reflectedupon the odd disorder of the chamber, we have gone so far as to combinethe ideas of an agility astounding, a strength superhuman, a ferocitybrutal, a butchery without motive, a _grotesquerie_ in horror absolutelyalien from humanity, and a voice foreign in tone to the ears of menof many nations, and devoid of all distinct or intelligiblesyllabification. What result, then, has ensued? What impression have Imade upon your fancy?"

I felt a creeping of the flesh as Dupin asked me the question. "Amadman, " I said, "has done this deed--some raving maniac, escaped from aneighboring _Maison de Santé. _"

"In some respects, " he replied, "your idea is not irrelevant. But thevoices of madmen, even in their wildest paroxysms, are never found totally with that peculiar voice heard upon the stairs. Madmen are of somenation, and their language, however incoherent in its words, has alwaysthe coherence of syllabification. Besides, the hair of a madman is notsuch as I now hold in my hand. I disentangled this little tuft from therigidly clutched fingers of Madame L'Espanaye. Tell me what you can makeof it. "

"Dupin!" I said, completely unnerved; "this hair is most unusual--thisis no _human_ hair. "

"I have not asserted that it is, " said he; "but, before we decide thispoint, I wish you to glance at the little sketch I have here traced uponthis paper. It is a _fac-simile_ drawing of what has been described inone portion of the testimony as 'dark bruises, and deep indentationsof finger nails, ' upon the throat of Mademoiselle L'Espanaye, and inanother, (by Messrs. Dumas and Etienne, ) as a 'series of livid spots, evidently the impression of fingers. '

"You will perceive, " continued my friend, spreading out the paper uponthe table before us, "that this drawing gives the idea of a firmand fixed hold. There is no _slipping_ apparent. Each finger hasretained--possibly until the death of the victim--the fearful grasp bywhich it originally imbedded itself. Attempt, now, to place all yourfingers, at the same time, in the respective impressions as you seethem. "

I made the attempt in vain. 

"We are possibly not giving this matter a fair trial, " he said. "Thepaper is spread out upon a plane surface; but the human throat iscylindrical. Here is a billet of wood, the circumference of whichis about that of the throat. Wrap the drawing around it, and try theexperiment again. "

I did so; but the difficulty was even more obvious than before. "This, "I said, "is the mark of no human hand. "

"Read now, " replied Dupin, "this passage from Cuvier. "

It was a minute anatomical and generally descriptive account of thelarge fulvous Ourang-Outang of the East Indian Islands. The giganticstature, the prodigious strength and activity, the wild ferocity, andthe imitative propensities of these mammalia are sufficiently well knownto all. I understood the full horrors of the murder at once. 

"The description of the digits, " said I, as I made an end of reading, "is in exact accordance with this drawing. I see that no animal but anOurang-Outang, of the species here mentioned, could have impressed theindentations as you have traced them. This tuft of tawny hair, too, isidentical in character with that of the beast of Cuvier. But I cannotpossibly comprehend the particulars of this frightful mystery. Besides, there were _two_ voices heard in contention, and one of them wasunquestionably the voice of a Frenchman. "

"True; and you will remember an expression attributed almostunanimously, by the evidence, to this voice, --the expression, '_monDieu!_' This, under the circumstances, has been justly characterized byone of the witnesses (Montani, the confectioner, ) as an expression ofremonstrance or expostulation. Upon these two words, therefore, I havemainly built my hopes of a full solution of the riddle. A Frenchmanwas cognizant of the murder. It is possible--indeed it is far morethan probable--that he was innocent of all participation in the bloodytransactions which took place. The Ourang-Outang may have escaped fromhim. He may have traced it to the chamber; but, under the agitatingcircumstances which ensued, he could never have re-captured it. It isstill at large. I will not pursue these guesses--for I have no right tocall them more--since the shades of reflection upon which they are basedare scarcely of sufficient depth to be appreciable by my own intellect, and since I could not pretend to make them intelligible to theunderstanding of another. We will call them guesses then, and speakof them as such. If the Frenchman in question is indeed, as I suppose, innocent of this atrocity, this advertisement which I left last night, upon our return home, at the office of 'Le Monde, ' (a paper devoted tothe shipping interest, and much sought by sailors, ) will bring him toour residence. "

He handed me a paper, and I read thus:

CAUGHT--_In the Bois de Boulogne, early in the morning of the--inst. , _(the morning of the murder, ) _a very large, tawny Ourang-Outang ofthe Bornese species. The owner, (who is ascertained to be a sailor, belonging to a Maltese vessel, ) may have the animal again, uponidentifying it satisfactorily, and paying a few charges arising fromits capture and keeping. Call at No. ----, Rue ----, Faubourg St. Germain--au troisiême. _

"How was it possible, " I asked, "that you should know the man to be asailor, and belonging to a Maltese vessel?"

"I do _not_ know it, " said Dupin. "I am not _sure_ of it. Here, however, is a small piece of ribbon, which from its form, and from its greasyappearance, has evidently been used in tying the hair in one of thoselong _queues_ of which sailors are so fond. Moreover, this knot is onewhich few besides sailors can tie, and is peculiar to the Maltese. Ipicked the ribbon up at the foot of the lightning-rod. It could not havebelonged to either of the deceased. Now if, after all, I am wrong in myinduction from this ribbon, that the Frenchman was a sailor belonging toa Maltese vessel, still I can have done no harm in saying what I did inthe advertisement. If I am in error, he will merely suppose that I havebeen misled by some circumstance into which he will not take the troubleto inquire. But if I am right, a great point is gained. Cognizantalthough innocent of the murder, the Frenchman will naturally hesitateabout replying to the advertisement--about demanding the Ourang-Outang. He will reason thus:--'I am innocent; I am poor; my Ourang-Outang is ofgreat value--to one in my circumstances a fortune of itself--why shouldI lose it through idle apprehensions of danger? Here it is, within mygrasp. It was found in the Bois de Boulogne--at a vast distance from thescene of that butchery. How can it ever be suspected that a brute beastshould have done the deed? The police are at fault--they have failed toprocure the slightest clew. Should they even trace the animal, it wouldbe impossible to prove me cognizant of the murder, or to implicate mein guilt on account of that cognizance. Above all, _I am known. _ Theadvertiser designates me as the possessor of the beast. I am not sure towhat limit his knowledge may extend. Should I avoid claiming a propertyof so great value, which it is known that I possess, I will render theanimal at least, liable to suspicion. It is not my policy to attractattention either to myself or to the beast. I will answer theadvertisement, get the Ourang-Outang, and keep it close until thismatter has blown over. '"

At this moment we heard a step upon the stairs. 

"Be ready, " said Dupin, "with your pistols, but neither use them norshow them until at a signal from myself. "

The front door of the house had been left open, and the visiter hadentered, without ringing, and advanced several steps upon the staircase. Now, however, he seemed to hesitate. Presently we heard him descending. Dupin was moving quickly to the door, when we again heard him coming up. He did not turn back a second time, but stepped up with decision, andrapped at the door of our chamber. 

"Come in, " said Dupin, in a cheerful and hearty tone. 

A man entered. He was a sailor, evidently, --a tall, stout, andmuscular-looking person, with a certain dare-devil expression ofcountenance, not altogether unprepossessing. His face, greatly sunburnt, was more than half hidden by whisker and _mustachio. _ He had with hima huge oaken cudgel, but appeared to be otherwise unarmed. He bowedawkwardly, and bade us "good evening, " in French accents, which, although somewhat Neufchatelish, were still sufficiently indicative of aParisian origin. 

"Sit down, my friend, " said Dupin. "I suppose you have called about theOurang-Outang. Upon my word, I almost envy you the possession of him;a remarkably fine, and no doubt a very valuable animal. How old do yousuppose him to be?"

The sailor drew a long breath, with the air of a man relieved of someintolerable burden, and then replied, in an assured tone:

"I have no way of telling--but he can't be more than four or five yearsold. Have you got him here?"

"Oh no, we had no conveniences for keeping him here. He is at a liverystable in the Rue Dubourg, just by. You can get him in the morning. Ofcourse you are prepared to identify the property?"

"To be sure I am, sir. "

"I shall be sorry to part with him, " said Dupin. 

"I don't mean that you should be at all this trouble for nothing, sir, "said the man. "Couldn't expect it. Am very willing to pay a reward forthe finding of the animal--that is to say, any thing in reason. "

"Well, " replied my friend, "that is all very fair, to be sure. Let methink!--what should I have? Oh! I will tell you. My reward shall bethis. You shall give me all the information in your power about thesemurders in the Rue Morgue. "

Dupin said the last words in a very low tone, and very quietly. Just asquietly, too, he walked toward the door, locked it and put the key inhis pocket. He then drew a pistol from his bosom and placed it, withoutthe least flurry, upon the table. 

The sailor's face flushed up as if he were struggling with suffocation. He started to his feet and grasped his cudgel, but the next moment hefell back into his seat, trembling violently, and with the countenanceof death itself. He spoke not a word. I pitied him from the bottom of myheart. 

"My friend, " said Dupin, in a kind tone, "you are alarming yourselfunnecessarily--you are indeed. We mean you no harm whatever. I pledgeyou the honor of a gentleman, and of a Frenchman, that we intend you noinjury. I perfectly well know that you are innocent of the atrocitiesin the Rue Morgue. It will not do, however, to deny that you are in somemeasure implicated in them. From what I have already said, you must knowthat I have had means of information about this matter--means of whichyou could never have dreamed. Now the thing stands thus. You have donenothing which you could have avoided--nothing, certainly, which rendersyou culpable. You were not even guilty of robbery, when you might haverobbed with impunity. You have nothing to conceal. You have no reasonfor concealment. On the other hand, you are bound by every principleof honor to confess all you know. An innocent man is now imprisoned, charged with that crime of which you can point out the perpetrator. "

The sailor had recovered his presence of mind, in a great measure, whileDupin uttered these words; but his original boldness of bearing was allgone. 

"So help me God, " said he, after a brief pause, "I will tell you all Iknow about this affair;--but I do not expect you to believe one half Isay--I would be a fool indeed if I did. Still, I am innocent, and I willmake a clean breast if I die for it. "

What he stated was, in substance, this. He had lately made a voyageto the Indian Archipelago. A party, of which he formed one, landedat Borneo, and passed into the interior on an excursion of pleasure. Himself and a companion had captured the Ourang-Outang. This companiondying, the animal fell into his own exclusive possession. After greattrouble, occasioned by the intractable ferocity of his captive duringthe home voyage, he at length succeeded in lodging it safely at his ownresidence in Paris, where, not to attract toward himself the unpleasantcuriosity of his neighbors, he kept it carefully secluded, until suchtime as it should recover from a wound in the foot, received from asplinter on board ship. His ultimate design was to sell it. 

Returning home from some sailors' frolic the night, or rather in themorning of the murder, he found the beast occupying his own bed-room, into which it had broken from a closet adjoining, where it had been, aswas thought, securely confined. Razor in hand, and fully lathered, itwas sitting before a looking-glass, attempting the operation of shaving, in which it had no doubt previously watched its master through thekey-hole of the closet. Terrified at the sight of so dangerous a weaponin the possession of an animal so ferocious, and so well able to useit, the man, for some moments, was at a loss what to do. He had beenaccustomed, however, to quiet the creature, even in its fiercest moods, by the use of a whip, and to this he now resorted. Upon sight of it, theOurang-Outang sprang at once through the door of the chamber, downthe stairs, and thence, through a window, unfortunately open, into thestreet. 

The Frenchman followed in despair; the ape, razor still in hand, occasionally stopping to look back and gesticulate at its pursuer, untilthe latter had nearly come up with it. It then again made off. In thismanner the chase continued for a long time. The streets were profoundlyquiet, as it was nearly three o'clock in the morning. In passing downan alley in the rear of the Rue Morgue, the fugitive's attention wasarrested by a light gleaming from the open window of Madame L'Espanaye'schamber, in the fourth story of her house. Rushing to the building, itperceived the lightning rod, clambered up with inconceivable agility, grasped the shutter, which was thrown fully back against the wall, and, by its means, swung itself directly upon the headboard of the bed. Thewhole feat did not occupy a minute. The shutter was kicked open again bythe Ourang-Outang as it entered the room. 

The sailor, in the meantime, was both rejoiced and perplexed. He hadstrong hopes of now recapturing the brute, as it could scarcely escapefrom the trap into which it had ventured, except by the rod, where itmight be intercepted as it came down. On the other hand, there wasmuch cause for anxiety as to what it might do in the house. This latterreflection urged the man still to follow the fugitive. A lightning rodis ascended without difficulty, especially by a sailor; but, when he hadarrived as high as the window, which lay far to his left, his career wasstopped; the most that he could accomplish was to reach over so as toobtain a glimpse of the interior of the room. At this glimpse he nearlyfell from his hold through excess of horror. Now it was that thosehideous shrieks arose upon the night, which had startled from slumberthe inmates of the Rue Morgue. Madame L'Espanaye and her daughter, habited in their night clothes, had apparently been occupied inarranging some papers in the iron chest already mentioned, which hadbeen wheeled into the middle of the room. It was open, and its contentslay beside it on the floor. The victims must have been sitting withtheir backs toward the window; and, from the time elapsing between theingress of the beast and the screams, it seems probable that it was notimmediately perceived. The flapping-to of the shutter would naturallyhave been attributed to the wind. 

As the sailor looked in, the gigantic animal had seized MadameL'Espanaye by the hair, (which was loose, as she had been combingit, ) and was flourishing the razor about her face, in imitation of themotions of a barber. The daughter lay prostrate and motionless; she hadswooned. The screams and struggles of the old lady (during which thehair was torn from her head) had the effect of changing the probablypacific purposes of the Ourang-Outang into those of wrath. With onedetermined sweep of its muscular arm it nearly severed her head from herbody. The sight of blood inflamed its anger into phrenzy. Gnashing itsteeth, and flashing fire from its eyes, it flew upon the body of thegirl, and imbedded its fearful talons in her throat, retaining its graspuntil she expired. Its wandering and wild glances fell at this momentupon the head of the bed, over which the face of its master, rigid withhorror, was just discernible. The fury of the beast, who no doubt borestill in mind the dreaded whip, was instantly converted into fear. Conscious of having deserved punishment, it seemed desirous ofconcealing its bloody deeds, and skipped about the chamber in an agonyof nervous agitation; throwing down and breaking the furniture as itmoved, and dragging the bed from the bedstead. In conclusion, it seizedfirst the corpse of the daughter, and thrust it up the chimney, asit was found; then that of the old lady, which it immediately hurledthrough the window headlong. 

As the ape approached the casement with its mutilated burden, the sailorshrank aghast to the rod, and, rather gliding than clambering down it, hurried at once home--dreading the consequences of the butchery, andgladly abandoning, in his terror, all solicitude about the fate of theOurang-Outang. The words heard by the party upon the staircase were theFrenchman's exclamations of horror and affright, commingled with thefiendish jabberings of the brute. 

I have scarcely anything to add. The Ourang-Outang must have escapedfrom the chamber, by the rod, just before the break of the door. Itmust have closed the window as it passed through it. It was subsequentlycaught by the owner himself, who obtained for it a very large sum at the_Jardin des Plantes. _ Le Don was instantly released, upon our narrationof the circumstances (with some comments from Dupin) at the bureau ofthe Prefect of Police. This functionary, however well disposed to myfriend, could not altogether conceal his chagrin at the turn whichaffairs had taken, and was fain to indulge in a sarcasm or two, aboutthe propriety of every person minding his own business. 

"Let him talk, " said Dupin, who had not thought it necessary to reply. "Let him discourse; it will ease his conscience, I am satisfied withhaving defeated him in his own castle. Nevertheless, that he failedin the solution of this mystery, is by no means that matter for wonderwhich he supposes it; for, in truth, our friend the Prefect is somewhattoo cunning to be profound. In his wisdom is no _stamen. _ It is all headand no body, like the pictures of the Goddess Laverna, --or, at best, allhead and shoulders, like a codfish. But he is a good creature after all. I like him especially for one master stroke of cant, by which he hasattained his reputation for ingenuity. I mean the way he has '_de nierce qui est, et d'expliquer ce qui n'est pas. _'" (*)

(*) Rousseau--Nouvelle Heloise. 

THE MYSTERY OF MARIE ROGET. (*1)

A SEQUEL TO "THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE. "

 Es giebt eine Reihe idealischer Begebenheiten, die der Wirklichkeit parallel lauft. Selten fallen sie zusammen. Menschen und zufalle modifieiren gewohulich die idealische Begebenheit, so dass sie unvollkommen erscheint, und ihre Folgen gleichfalls unvollkommen sind. So bei der Reformation; statt des Protestantismus kam das Lutherthum hervor. 

 There are ideal series of events which run parallel with the real ones. They rarely coincide. Men and circumstances generally modify the ideal train of events, so that it seems imperfect, and its consequences are equally imperfect. Thus with the Reformation; instead of Protestantism came Lutheranism. 

 --Novalis. (*2) Moral Ansichten. 

THERE are few persons, even among the calmest thinkers, who have notoccasionally been startled into a vague yet thrilling half-credence inthe supernatural, by coincidences of so seemingly marvellous a characterthat, as mere coincidences, the intellect has been unable to receivethem. Such sentiments--for the half-credences of which I speak havenever the full force of thought--such sentiments are seldom thoroughlystifled unless by reference to the doctrine of chance, or, as it istechnically termed, the Calculus of Probabilities. Now this Calculus is, in its essence, purely mathematical; and thus we have the anomaly of themost rigidly exact in science applied to the shadow and spirituality ofthe most intangible in speculation. 

The extraordinary details which I am now called upon to make public, will be found to form, as regards sequence of time, the primary branchof a series of scarcely intelligible coincidences, whose secondary orconcluding branch will be recognized by all readers in the late murderof Mary Cecila Rogers, at New York. 

When, in an article entitled "The Murders in the Rue Morgue, " Iendeavored, about a year ago, to depict some very remarkable featuresin the mental character of my friend, the Chevalier C. Auguste Dupin, it did not occur to me that I should ever resume the subject. Thisdepicting of character constituted my design; and this design wasthoroughly fulfilled in the wild train of circumstances brought toinstance Dupin's idiosyncrasy. I might have adduced other examples, butI should have proven no more. Late events, however, in their surprisingdevelopment, have startled me into some farther details, which willcarry with them the air of extorted confession. Hearing what I havelately heard, it would be indeed strange should I remain silent inregard to what I both heard and saw so long ago. 

Upon the winding up of the tragedy involved in the deaths of MadameL'Espanaye and her daughter, the Chevalier dismissed the affair at oncefrom his attention, and relapsed into his old habits of moody reverie. Prone, at all times, to abstraction, I readily fell in with his humor;and, continuing to occupy our chambers in the Faubourg Saint Germain, wegave the Future to the winds, and slumbered tranquilly in the Present, weaving the dull world around us into dreams. 

But these dreams were not altogether uninterrupted. It may readily besupposed that the part played by my friend, in the drama at the RueMorgue, had not failed of its impression upon the fancies of theParisian police. With its emissaries, the name of Dupin had grown into ahousehold word. The simple character of those inductions by which hehad disentangled the mystery never having been explained even to thePrefect, or to any other individual than myself, of course it is notsurprising that the affair was regarded as little less than miraculous, or that the Chevalier's analytical abilities acquired for him thecredit of intuition. His frankness would have led him to disabuse everyinquirer of such prejudice; but his indolent humor forbade all fartheragitation of a topic whose interest to himself had long ceased. It thushappened that he found himself the cynosure of the political eyes; andthe cases were not few in which attempt was made to engage his servicesat the Prefecture. One of the most remarkable instances was that of themurder of a young girl named Marie Rogêt. 

This event occurred about two years after the atrocity in the RueMorgue. Marie, whose Christian and family name will at once arrestattention from their resemblance to those of the unfortunate"cigargirl, " was the only daughter of the widow Estelle Rogêt. Thefather had died during the child's infancy, and from the period of hisdeath, until within eighteen months before the assassination which formsthe subject of our narrative, the mother and daughter had dwelt togetherin the Rue Pavée Saint Andrée; (*3) Madame there keeping a pension, assisted by Marie. Affairs went on thus until the latter had attainedher twenty-second year, when her great beauty attracted the notice of aperfumer, who occupied one of the shops in the basement of the PalaisRoyal, and whose custom lay chiefly among the desperate adventurersinfesting that neighborhood. Monsieur Le Blanc (*4) was not unaware ofthe advantages to be derived from the attendance of the fair Marie inhis perfumery; and his liberal proposals were accepted eagerly by thegirl, although with somewhat more of hesitation by Madame. 

The anticipations of the shopkeeper were realized, and his rooms soonbecame notorious through the charms of the sprightly grisette. She hadbeen in his employ about a year, when her admirers were thrown infoconfusion by her sudden disappearance from the shop. Monsieur Le Blancwas unable to account for her absence, and Madame Rogêt was distractedwith anxiety and terror. The public papers immediately took upthe theme, and the police were upon the point of making seriousinvestigations, when, one fine morning, after the lapse of a week, Marie, in good health, but with a somewhat saddened air, made herre-appearance at her usual counter in the perfumery. All inquiry, exceptthat of a private character, was of course immediately hushed. MonsieurLe Blanc professed total ignorance, as before. Marie, with Madame, replied to all questions, that the last week had been spent at thehouse of a relation in the country. Thus the affair died away, and wasgenerally forgotten; for the girl, ostensibly to relieve herself fromthe impertinence of curiosity, soon bade a final adieu to the perfumer, and sought the shelter of her mother's residence in the Rue Pavée SaintAndrée. 

It was about five months after this return home, that her friends werealarmed by her sudden disappearance for the second time. Three dayselapsed, and nothing was heard of her. On the fourth her corpse wasfound floating in the Seine, * near the shore which is opposite theQuartier of the Rue Saint Andree, and at a point not very far distantfrom the secluded neighborhood of the Barrière du Roule. (*6)

The atrocity of this murder, (for it was at once evident that murder hadbeen committed, ) the youth and beauty of the victim, and, above all, herprevious notoriety, conspired to produce intense excitement in the mindsof the sensitive Parisians. I can call to mind no similar occurrenceproducing so general and so intense an effect. For several weeks, inthe discussion of this one absorbing theme, even the momentous politicaltopics of the day were forgotten. The Prefect made unusual exertions;and the powers of the whole Parisian police were, of course, tasked tothe utmost extent. 

Upon the first discovery of the corpse, it was not supposed that themurderer would be able to elude, for more than a very brief period, the inquisition which was immediately set on foot. It was not until theexpiration of a week that it was deemed necessary to offer a reward; andeven then this reward was limited to a thousand francs. In the mean timethe investigation proceeded with vigor, if not always with judgment, andnumerous individuals were examined to no purpose; while, owing to thecontinual absence of all clue to the mystery, the popular excitementgreatly increased. At the end of the tenth day it was thought advisableto double the sum originally proposed; and, at length, the second weekhaving elapsed without leading to any discoveries, and the prejudicewhich always exists in Paris against the Police having given vent toitself in several serious émeutes, the Prefect took it upon himselfto offer the sum of twenty thousand francs "for the conviction of theassassin, " or, if more than one should prove to have been implicated, "for the conviction of any one of the assassins. " In the proclamationsetting forth this reward, a full pardon was promised to any accomplicewho should come forward in evidence against his fellow; and to the wholewas appended, wherever it appeared, the private placard of a committeeof citizens, offering ten thousand francs, in addition to the amountproposed by the Prefecture. The entire reward thus stood at no less thanthirty thousand francs, which will be regarded as an extraordinarysum when we consider the humble condition of the girl, and the greatfrequency, in large cities, of such atrocities as the one described. 

No one doubted now that the mystery of this murder would be immediatelybrought to light. But although, in one or two instances, arrests weremade which promised elucidation, yet nothing was elicited which couldimplicate the parties suspected; and they were discharged forthwith. Strange as it may appear, the third week from the discovery of the bodyhad passed, and passed without any light being thrown upon the subject, before even a rumor of the events which had so agitated the publicmind, reached the ears of Dupin and myself. Engaged in researches whichabsorbed our whole attention, it had been nearly a month since either ofus had gone abroad, or received a visiter, or more than glanced atthe leading political articles in one of the daily papers. The firstintelligence of the murder was brought us by G ----, in person. Hecalled upon us early in the afternoon of the thirteenth of July, 18--, and remained with us until late in the night. He had been piqued bythe failure of all his endeavors to ferret out the assassins. Hisreputation--so he said with a peculiarly Parisian air--was at stake. Even his honor was concerned. The eyes of the public were upon him; andthere was really no sacrifice which he would not be willing to make forthe development of the mystery. He concluded a somewhat droll speechwith a compliment upon what he was pleased to term the tact of Dupin, and made him a direct, and certainly a liberal proposition, the precisenature of which I do not feel myself at liberty to disclose, but whichhas no bearing upon the proper subject of my narrative. 

The compliment my friend rebutted as best he could, but the propositionhe accepted at once, although its advantages were altogetherprovisional. This point being settled, the Prefect broke forth atonce into explanations of his own views, interspersing them withlong comments upon the evidence; of which latter we were not yet inpossession. He discoursed much, and beyond doubt, learnedly; whileI hazarded an occasional suggestion as the night wore drowsily away. Dupin, sitting steadily in his accustomed arm-chair, was the embodimentof respectful attention. He wore spectacles, during the whole interview;and an occasional signal glance beneath their green glasses, sufficedto convince me that he slept not the less soundly, because silently, throughout the seven or eight leaden-footed hours which immediatelypreceded the departure of the Prefect. 

In the morning, I procured, at the Prefecture, a full report of allthe evidence elicited, and, at the various newspaper offices, a copyof every paper in which, from first to last, had been published anydecisive information in regard to this sad affair. Freed from all thatwas positively disproved, this mass of information stood thus:

Marie Rogêt left the residence of her mother, in the Rue PavéeSt. Andrée, about nine o'clock in the morning of Sunday June thetwenty-second, 18--. In going out, she gave notice to a Monsieur JacquesSt. Eustache, (*7) and to him only, of her intent intention to spend theday with an aunt who resided in the Rue des Drômes. The Rue des Drômesis a short and narrow but populous thoroughfare, not far from the banksof the river, and at a distance of some two miles, in the most directcourse possible, from the pension of Madame Rogêt. St. Eustache was theaccepted suitor of Marie, and lodged, as well as took his meals, atthe pension. He was to have gone for his betrothed at dusk, and tohave escorted her home. In the afternoon, however, it came on to rainheavily; and, supposing that she would remain all night at her aunt's, (as she had done under similar circumstances before, ) he did not thinkit necessary to keep his promise. As night drew on, Madame Rogêt (whowas an infirm old lady, seventy years of age, ) was heard to expressa fear "that she should never see Marie again;" but this observationattracted little attention at the time. 

On Monday, it was ascertained that the girl had not been to the Rue desDrômes; and when the day elapsed without tidings of her, a tardy searchwas instituted at several points in the city, and its environs. It wasnot, however until the fourth day from the period of disappearance thatany thing satisfactory was ascertained respecting her. On this day, (Wednesday, the twenty-fifth of June, ) a Monsieur Beauvais, (*8) who, with a friend, had been making inquiries for Marie near the Barrièredu Roule, on the shore of the Seine which is opposite the Rue Pavée St. Andrée, was informed that a corpse had just been towed ashore by somefishermen, who had found it floating in the river. Upon seeing thebody, Beauvais, after some hesitation, identified it as that of theperfumery-girl. His friend recognized it more promptly. 

The face was suffused with dark blood, some of which issued from themouth. No foam was seen, as in the case of the merely drowned. There wasno discoloration in the cellular tissue. About the throat were bruisesand impressions of fingers. The arms were bent over on the chest andwere rigid. The right hand was clenched; the left partially open. Onthe left wrist were two circular excoriations, apparently the effectof ropes, or of a rope in more than one volution. A part of the rightwrist, also, was much chafed, as well as the back throughout its extent, but more especially at the shoulder-blades. In bringing the body tothe shore the fishermen had attached to it a rope; but none of theexcoriations had been effected by this. The flesh of the neck was muchswollen. There were no cuts apparent, or bruises which appeared theeffect of blows. A piece of lace was found tied so tightly around theneck as to be hidden from sight; it was completely buried in the flesh, and was fasted by a knot which lay just under the left ear. This alonewould have sufficed to produce death. The medical testimony spokeconfidently of the virtuous character of the deceased. She had beensubjected, it said, to brutal violence. The corpse was in such conditionwhen found, that there could have been no difficulty in its recognitionby friends. 

The dress was much torn and otherwise disordered. In the outer garment, a slip, about a foot wide, had been torn upward from the bottom hem tothe waist, but not torn off. It was wound three times around the waist, and secured by a sort of hitch in the back. The dress immediatelybeneath the frock was of fine muslin; and from this a slip eighteeninches wide had been torn entirely out--torn very evenly and with greatcare. It was found around her neck, fitting loosely, and secured with ahard knot. Over this muslin slip and the slip of lace, the strings of abonnet were attached; the bonnet being appended. The knot by which thestrings of the bonnet were fastened, was not a lady's, but a slip orsailor's knot. 

After the recognition of the corpse, it was not, as usual, taken to theMorgue, (this formality being superfluous, ) but hastily interred not farfront the spot at which it was brought ashore. Through the exertions ofBeauvais, the matter was industriously hushed up, as far as possible;and several days had elapsed before any public emotion resulted. Aweekly paper, (*9) however, at length took up the theme; the corpse wasdisinterred, and a re-examination instituted; but nothing was elicitedbeyond what has been already noted. The clothes, however, werenow submitted to the mother and friends of the deceased, and fullyidentified as those worn by the girl upon leaving home. 

Meantime, the excitement increased hourly. Several individuals werearrested and discharged. St. Eustache fell especially under suspicion;and he failed, at first, to give an intelligible account of hiswhereabouts during the Sunday on which Marie left home. Subsequently, however, he submitted to Monsieur G----, affidavits, accountingsatisfactorily for every hour of the day in question. As time passed andno discovery ensued, a thousand contradictory rumors were circulated, and journalists busied themselves in suggestions. Among these, the onewhich attracted the most notice, was the idea that Marie Rogêt stilllived--that the corpse found in the Seine was that of some otherunfortunate. It will be proper that I submit to the reader some passageswhich embody the suggestion alluded to. These passages are literaltranslations from L'Etoile, (*10) a paper conducted, in general, withmuch ability. 

"Mademoiselle Rogêt left her mother's house on Sunday morning, June thetwenty-second, 18--, with the ostensible purpose of going to see heraunt, or some other connexion, in the Rue des Drômes. From that hour, nobody is proved to have seen her. There is no trace or tidings of herat all. .. . There has no person, whatever, come forward, so far, whosaw her at all, on that day, after she left her mother's door. .. . Now, though we have no evidence that Marie Rogêt was in the land of theliving after nine o'clock on Sunday, June the twenty-second, we haveproof that, up to that hour, she was alive. On Wednesday noon, attwelve, a female body was discovered afloat on the shore of the Barrièrede Roule. This was, even if we presume that Marie Rogêt was thrown intothe river within three hours after she left her mother's house, onlythree days from the time she left her home--three days to an hour. Butit is folly to suppose that the murder, if murder was committed onher body, could have been consummated soon enough to have enabled hermurderers to throw the body into the river before midnight. Those whoare guilty of such horrid crimes, choose darkness rather the light. .. . Thus we see that if the body found in the river was that of Marie Rogêt, it could only have been in the water two and a half days, or three atthe outside. All experience has shown that drowned bodies, or bodiesthrown into the water immediately after death by violence, require fromsix to ten days for decomposition to take place to bring them to the topof the water. Even where a cannon is fired over a corpse, and it risesbefore at least five or six days' immersion, it sinks again, if letalone. Now, we ask, what was there in this cave to cause a departurefrom the ordinary course of nature?. .. If the body had been kept in itsmangled state on shore until Tuesday night, some trace would be found onshore of the murderers. It is a doubtful point, also, whether the bodywould be so soon afloat, even were it thrown in after having beendead two days. And, furthermore, it is exceedingly improbable that anyvillains who had committed such a murder as is here supposed, wouldhave throw the body in without weight to sink it, when such a precautioncould have so easily been taken. "

The editor here proceeds to argue that the body must have been in thewater "not three days merely, but, at least, five times three days, "because it was so far decomposed that Beauvais had great difficultyin recognizing it. This latter point, however, was fully disproved. Icontinue the translation:

"What, then, are the facts on which M. Beauvais says that he has nodoubt the body was that of Marie Rogêt? He ripped up the gown sleeve, and says he found marks which satisfied him of the identity. The publicgenerally supposed those marks to have consisted of some descriptionof scars. He rubbed the arm and found hair upon it--something asindefinite, we think, as can readily be imagined--as little conclusiveas finding an arm in the sleeve. M. Beauvais did not return that night, but sent word to Madame Rogêt, at seven o'clock, on Wednesday evening, that an investigation was still in progress respecting her daughter. Ifwe allow that Madame Rogêt, from her age and grief, could not go over, (which is allowing a great deal, ) there certainly must have been someone who would have thought it worth while to go over and attend theinvestigation, if they thought the body was that of Marie. Nobody wentover. There was nothing said or heard about the matter in the Rue PavéeSt. Andrée, that reached even the occupants of the same building. M. St. Eustache, the lover and intended husband of Marie, who boarded in hermother's house, deposes that he did not hear of the discovery of thebody of his intended until the next morning, when M. Beauvais cameinto his chamber and told him of it. For an item of news like this, itstrikes us it was very coolly received. "

In this way the journal endeavored to create the impression of an apathyon the part of the relatives of Marie, inconsistent with the suppositionthat these relatives believed the corpse to be hers. Its insinuationsamount to this:--that Marie, with the connivance of her friends, hadabsented herself from the city for reasons involving a charge againsther chastity; and that these friends, upon the discovery of a corpse inthe Seine, somewhat resembling that of the girl, had availed themselvesof the opportunity to impress press the public with the belief of herdeath. But L'Etoile was again over-hasty. It was distinctly provedthat no apathy, such as was imagined, existed; that the old lady wasexceedingly feeble, and so agitated as to be unable to attend to anyduty, that St. Eustache, so far from receiving the news coolly, wasdistracted with grief, and bore himself so frantically, that M. Beauvaisprevailed upon a friend and relative to take charge of him, and preventhis attending the examination at the disinterment. Moreover, althoughit was stated by L'Etoile, that the corpse was re-interred at the publicexpense--that an advantageous offer of private sculpture was absolutelydeclined by the family--and that no member of the family attended theceremonial:--although, I say, all this was asserted by L'Etoile infurtherance of the impression it designed to convey--yet all thiswas satisfactorily disproved. In a subsequent number of the paper, anattempt was made to throw suspicion upon Beauvais himself. The editorsays:

"Now, then, a change comes over the matter. We are told that on oneoccasion, while a Madame B---- was at Madame Rogêt's house, M. Beauvais, who was going out, told her that a gendarme was expected there, and she, Madame B. , must not say anything to the gendarme until he returned, but let the matter be for him. .. . In the present posture of affairs, M. Beauvais appears to have the whole matter looked up in his head. Asingle step cannot be taken without M. Beauvais; for, go which way youwill, you run against him. .. . For some reason, he determined that nobodyshall have any thing to do with the proceedings but himself, and hehas elbowed the male relatives out of the way, according to theirrepresentations, in a very singular manner. He seems to have been verymuch averse to permitting the relatives to see the body. "

By the following fact, some color was given to the suspicion thus thrownupon Beauvais. A visiter at his office, a few days prior to the girl'sdisappearance, and during the absence of its occupant, had observed arose in the key-hole of the door, and the name "Marie" inscribed upon aslate which hung near at hand. 

The general impression, so far as we were enabled to glean it from thenewspapers, seemed to be, that Marie had been the victim of a gangof desperadoes--that by these she had been borne across the river, maltreated and murdered. Le Commerciel, (*11) however, a print ofextensive influence, was earnest in combating this popular idea. I quotea passage or two from its columns:

"We are persuaded that pursuit has hitherto been on a false scent, sofar as it has been directed to the Barrière du Roule. It is impossiblethat a person so well known to thousands as this young woman was, shouldhave passed three blocks without some one having seen her; and any onewho saw her would have remembered it, for she interested all who knewher. It was when the streets were full of people, when she went out. .. . It is impossible that she could have gone to the Barrière du Roule, orto the Rue des Drômes, without being recognized by a dozen persons; yetno one has come forward who saw her outside of her mother's door, andthere is no evidence, except the testimony concerning her expressedintentions, that she did go out at all. Her gown was torn, bound roundher, and tied; and by that the body was carried as a bundle. If themurder had been committed at the Barrière du Roule, there would havebeen no necessity for any such arrangement. The fact that the body wasfound floating near the Barrière, is no proof as to where it was throwninto the water. .. .. A piece of one of the unfortunate girl's petticoats, two feet long and one foot wide, was torn out and tied under her chinaround the back of her head, probably to prevent screams. This was doneby fellows who had no pocket-handkerchief. "

A day or two before the Prefect called upon us, however, some importantinformation reached the police, which seemed to overthrow, at least, the chief portion of Le Commerciel's argument. Two small boys, sons of aMadame Deluc, while roaming among the woods near the Barrière du Roule, chanced to penetrate a close thicket, within which were three or fourlarge stones, forming a kind of seat, with a back and footstool. Onthe upper stone lay a white petticoat; on the second a silk scarf. Aparasol, gloves, and a pocket-handkerchief were also here found. Thehandkerchief bore the name "Marie Rogêt. " Fragments of dress werediscovered on the brambles around. The earth was trampled, the busheswere broken, and there was every evidence of a struggle. Between thethicket and the river, the fences were found taken down, and the groundbore evidence of some heavy burthen having been dragged along it. 

A weekly paper, Le Soleil, (*12) had the following comments upon thisdiscovery--comments which merely echoed the sentiment of the wholeParisian press:

"The things had all evidently been there at least three or four weeks;they were all mildewed down hard with the action of the rain and stucktogether from mildew. The grass had grown around and over some of them. The silk on the parasol was strong, but the threads of it were runtogether within. The upper part, where it had been doubled and folded, was all mildewed and rotten, and tore on its being opened. .. .. Thepieces of her frock torn out by the bushes were about three inches wideand six inches long. One part was the hem of the frock, and it had beenmended; the other piece was part of the skirt, not the hem. They lookedlike strips torn off, and were on the thorn bush, about a foot fromthe ground. .. .. There can be no doubt, therefore, that the spot of thisappalling outrage has been discovered. "

Consequent upon this discovery, new evidence appeared. Madame Deluctestified that she keeps a roadside inn not far from the bank of theriver, opposite the Barrière du Roule. The neighborhood issecluded--particularly so. It is the usual Sunday resort of blackguardsfrom the city, who cross the river in boats. About three o'clock, in theafternoon of the Sunday in question, a young girl arrived at the inn, accompanied by a young man of dark complexion. The two remained here forsome time. On their departure, they took the road to some thick woods inthe vicinity. Madame Deluc's attention was called to the dress worn bythe girl, on account of its resemblance to one worn by a deceasedrelative. A scarf was particularly noticed. Soon after the departure ofthe couple, a gang of miscreants made their appearance, behavedboisterously, ate and drank without making payment, followed in theroute of the young man and girl, returned to the inn about dusk, andre-crossed the river as if in great haste. 

It was soon after dark, upon this same evening, that Madame Deluc, aswell as her eldest son, heard the screams of a female in the vicinityof the inn. The screams were violent but brief. Madame D. Recognized notonly the scarf which was found in the thicket, but the dress which wasdiscovered upon the corpse. An omnibus driver, Valence, (*13) now alsotestified that he saw Marie Rogêt cross a ferry on the Seine, on theSunday in question, in company with a young man of dark complexion. He, Valence, knew Marie, and could not be mistaken in her identity. Thearticles found in the thicket were fully identified by the relatives ofMarie. 

The items of evidence and information thus collected by myself, fromthe newspapers, at the suggestion of Dupin, embraced only one morepoint--but this was a point of seemingly vast consequence. It appearsthat, immediately after the discovery of the clothes as above described, the lifeless, or nearly lifeless body of St. Eustache, Marie'sbetrothed, was found in the vicinity of what all now supposed the sceneof the outrage. A phial labelled "laudanum, " and emptied, was found nearhim. His breath gave evidence of the poison. He died without speaking. Upon his person was found a letter, briefly stating his love for Marie, with his design of self-destruction. 

"I need scarcely tell you, " said Dupin, as he finished the perusal ofmy notes, "that this is a far more intricate case than that of theRue Morgue; from which it differs in one important respect. This isan ordinary, although an atrocious instance of crime. There is nothingpeculiarly outré about it. You will observe that, for this reason, themystery has been considered easy, when, for this reason, it should havebeen considered difficult, of solution. Thus; at first, it was thoughtunnecessary to offer a reward. The myrmidons of G---- were able at onceto comprehend how and why such an atrocity might have been committed. They could picture to their imaginations a mode--many modes--and amotive--many motives; and because it was not impossible that either ofthese numerous modes and motives could have been the actual one, theyhave taken it for granted that one of them must. But the case with whichthese variable fancies were entertained, and the very plausibility whicheach assumed, should have been understood as indicative rather of thedifficulties than of the facilities which must attend elucidation. Ihave before observed that it is by prominences above the plane of theordinary, that reason feels her way, if at all, in her search for thetrue, and that the proper question in cases such as this, is not somuch 'what has occurred?' as 'what has occurred that has never occurredbefore?' In the investigations at the house of Madame L'Espanaye, (*14) the agents of G---- were discouraged and confounded by thatvery unusualness which, to a properly regulated intellect, would haveafforded the surest omen of success; while this same intellect mighthave been plunged in despair at the ordinary character of all that metthe eye in the case of the perfumery-girl, and yet told of nothing buteasy triumph to the functionaries of the Prefecture. 

"In the case of Madame L'Espanaye and her daughter there was, evenat the beginning of our investigation, no doubt that murder had beencommitted. The idea of suicide was excluded at once. Here, too, we arefreed, at the commencement, from all supposition of self-murder. Thebody found at the Barrière du Roule, was found under such circumstancesas to leave us no room for embarrassment upon this important point. Butit has been suggested that the corpse discovered, is not that of theMarie Rogêt for the conviction of whose assassin, or assassins, thereward is offered, and respecting whom, solely, our agreement has beenarranged with the Prefect. We both know this gentleman well. It will notdo to trust him too far. If, dating our inquiries from the body found, and thence tracing a murderer, we yet discover this body to be that ofsome other individual than Marie; or, if starting from the living Marie, we find her, yet find her unassassinated--in either case we lose ourlabor; since it is Monsieur G---- with whom we have to deal. For ourown purpose, therefore, if not for the purpose of justice, it isindispensable that our first step should be the determination of theidentity of the corpse with the Marie Rogêt who is missing. 

"With the public the arguments of L'Etoile have had weight; and that thejournal itself is convinced of their importance would appear fromthe manner in which it commences one of its essays upon thesubject--'Several of the morning papers of the day, ' it says, 'speak ofthe _conclusive_ article in Monday's Etoile. ' To me, this articleappears conclusive of little beyond the zeal of its inditer. We shouldbear in mind that, in general, it is the object of our newspapers ratherto create a sensation--to make a point--than to further the cause oftruth. The latter end is only pursued when it seems coincident with theformer. The print which merely falls in with ordinary opinion (howeverwell founded this opinion may be) earns for itself no credit with themob. The mass of the people regard as profound only him who suggests_pungent contradictions_ of the general idea. In ratiocination, not lessthan in literature, it is the epigram which is the most immediately andthe most universally appreciated. In both, it is of the lowest order ofmerit. 

"What I mean to say is, that it is the mingled epigram and melodrameof the idea, that Marie Rogêt still lives, rather than any trueplausibility in this idea, which have suggested it to L'Etoile, andsecured it a favorable reception with the public. Let us examine theheads of this journal's argument; endeavoring to avoid the incoherencewith which it is originally set forth. 

"The first aim of the writer is to show, from the brevity of theinterval between Marie's disappearance and the finding of the floatingcorpse, that this corpse cannot be that of Marie. The reduction of thisinterval to its smallest possible dimension, becomes thus, at once, anobject with the reasoner. In the rash pursuit of this object, he rushesinto mere assumption at the outset. 'It is folly to suppose, ' he says, 'that the murder, if murder was committed on her body, could have beenconsummated soon enough to have enabled her murderers to throw the bodyinto the river before midnight. ' We demand at once, and very naturally, why? Why is it folly to suppose that the murder was committed _withinfive minutes_ after the girl's quitting her mother's house? Why is itfolly to suppose that the murder was committed at any given periodof the day? There have been assassinations at all hours. But, had themurder taken place at any moment between nine o'clock in the morning ofSunday, and a quarter before midnight, there would still have beentime enough 'to throw the body into the river before midnight. ' Thisassumption, then, amounts precisely to this--that the murder was notcommitted on Sunday at all--and, if we allow L'Etoile to assume this, we may permit it any liberties whatever. The paragraph beginning 'It isfolly to suppose that the murder, etc. , ' however it appears as printedin L'Etoile, may be imagined to have existed actually thus in the brainof its inditer--'It is folly to suppose that the murder, if murder wascommitted on the body, could have been committed soon enough to haveenabled her murderers to throw the body into the river before midnight;it is folly, we say, to suppose all this, and to suppose at the sametime, (as we are resolved to suppose, ) that the body was not thrownin until after midnight'--a sentence sufficiently inconsequential initself, but not so utterly preposterous as the one printed. 

"Were it my purpose, " continued Dupin, "merely to _make out a case_against this passage of L'Etoile's argument, I might safely leave itwhere it is. It is not, however, with L'Etoile that we have to do, butwith the truth. The sentence in question has but one meaning, as itstands; and this meaning I have fairly stated: but it is materialthat we go behind the mere words, for an idea which these words haveobviously intended, and failed to convey. It was the design of thejournalist to say that, at whatever period of the day or night of Sundaythis murder was committed, it was improbable that the assassins wouldhave ventured to bear the corpse to the river before midnight. Andherein lies, really, the assumption of which I complain. It is assumedthat the murder was committed at such a position, and under suchcircumstances, that the bearing it to the river became necessary. Now, the assassination might have taken place upon the river's brink, or onthe river itself; and, thus, the throwing the corpse in the water mighthave been resorted to, at any period of the day or night, as the mostobvious and most immediate mode of disposal. You will understand that Isuggest nothing here as probable, or as cöincident with my own opinion. My design, so far, has no reference to the facts of the case. I wishmerely to caution you against the whole tone of L'Etoile's suggestion, by calling your attention to its ex parte character at the outset. 

"Having prescribed thus a limit to suit its own preconceived notions;having assumed that, if this were the body of Marie, it could have beenin the water but a very brief time; the journal goes on to say:

'All experience has shown that drowned bodies, or bodies thrown into thewater immediately after death by violence, require from six to ten daysfor sufficient decomposition to take place to bring them to the topof the water. Even when a cannon is fired over a corpse, and it risesbefore at least five or six days' immersion, it sinks again if letalone. '

"These assertions have been tacitly received by every paper in Paris, with the exception of Le Moniteur. (*15) This latter print endeavorsto combat that portion of the paragraph which has reference to 'drownedbodies' only, by citing some five or six instances in which the bodiesof individuals known to be drowned were found floating after the lapseof less time than is insisted upon by L'Etoile. But there is somethingexcessively unphilosophical in the attempt on the part of Le Moniteur, to rebut the general assertion of L'Etoile, by a citation of particularinstances militating against that assertion. Had it been possible toadduce fifty instead of five examples of bodies found floating at theend of two or three days, these fifty examples could still have beenproperly regarded only as exceptions to L'Etoile's rule, until such timeas the rule itself should be confuted. Admitting the rule, (and thisLe Moniteur does not deny, insisting merely upon its exceptions, ) theargument of L'Etoile is suffered to remain in full force; for thisargument does not pretend to involve more than a question of theprobability of the body having risen to the surface in less than threedays; and this probability will be in favor of L'Etoile's position untilthe instances so childishly adduced shall be sufficient in number toestablish an antagonistical rule. 

"You will see at once that all argument upon this head should be urged, if at all, against the rule itself; and for this end we must examine therationale of the rule. Now the human body, in general, is neither muchlighter nor much heavier than the water of the Seine; that is to say, the specific gravity of the human body, in its natural condition, isabout equal to the bulk of fresh water which it displaces. The bodiesof fat and fleshy persons, with small bones, and of women generally, are lighter than those of the lean and large-boned, and of men; and thespecific gravity of the water of a river is somewhat influenced by thepresence of the tide from sea. But, leaving this tide out of question, it may be said that very few human bodies will sink at all, even infresh water, of their own accord. Almost any one, falling into a river, will be enabled to float, if he suffer the specific gravity of the waterfairly to be adduced in comparison with his own--that is to say, ifhe suffer his whole person to be immersed, with as little exception aspossible. The proper position for one who cannot swim, is the uprightposition of the walker on land, with the head thrown fully back, andimmersed; the mouth and nostrils alone remaining above the surface. Thus circumstanced, we shall find that we float without difficulty andwithout exertion. It is evident, however, that the gravities of thebody, and of the bulk of water displaced, are very nicely balanced, andthat a trifle will cause either to preponderate. An arm, for instance, uplifted from the water, and thus deprived of its support, is anadditional weight sufficient to immerse the whole head, while theaccidental aid of the smallest piece of timber will enable us to elevatethe head so as to look about. Now, in the struggles of one unused toswimming, the arms are invariably thrown upwards, while an attempt ismade to keep the head in its usual perpendicular position. The resultis the immersion of the mouth and nostrils, and the inception, duringefforts to breathe while beneath the surface, of water into the lungs. Much is also received into the stomach, and the whole body becomesheavier by the difference between the weight of the air originallydistending these cavities, and that of the fluid which now fills them. This difference is sufficient to cause the body to sink, as a generalrule; but is insufficient in the cases of individuals with small bonesand an abnormal quantity of flaccid or fatty matter. Such individualsfloat even after drowning. 

"The corpse, being supposed at the bottom of the river, will thereremain until, by some means, its specific gravity again becomes lessthan that of the bulk of water which it displaces. This effectis brought about by decomposition, or otherwise. The result ofdecomposition is the generation of gas, distending the cellular tissuesand all the cavities, and giving the puffed appearance which is sohorrible. When this distension has so far progressed that the bulk ofthe corpse is materially increased without a corresponding increase ofmass or weight, its specific gravity becomes less than that of the waterdisplaced, and it forthwith makes its appearance at the surface. Butdecomposition is modified by innumerable circumstances--is hastened orretarded by innumerable agencies; for example, by the heat or cold ofthe season, by the mineral impregnation or purity of the water, by itsdepth or shallowness, by its currency or stagnation, by the temperamentof the body, by its infection or freedom from disease before death. Thus it is evident that we can assign no period, with any thing likeaccuracy, at which the corpse shall rise through decomposition. Undercertain conditions this result would be brought about within an hour;under others, it might not take place at all. There are chemicalinfusions by which the animal frame can be preserved forever fromcorruption; the Bi-chloride of Mercury is one. But, apart fromdecomposition, there may be, and very usually is, a generation of gaswithin the stomach, from the acetous fermentation of vegetable matter(or within other cavities from other causes) sufficient to induce adistension which will bring the body to the surface. The effect producedby the firing of a cannon is that of simple vibration. This may eitherloosen the corpse from the soft mud or ooze in which it is imbedded, thus permitting it to rise when other agencies have already preparedit for so doing; or it may overcome the tenacity of some putrescentportions of the cellular tissue; allowing the cavities to distend underthe influence of the gas. 

"Having thus before us the whole philosophy of this subject, we caneasily test by it the assertions of L'Etoile. 'All experience shows, 'says this paper, 'that drowned bodies, or bodies thrown into the waterimmediately after death by violence, require from six to ten days forsufficient decomposition to take place to bring them to the top of thewater. Even when a cannon is fired over a corpse, and it rises before atleast five or six days' immersion, it sinks again if let alone. '

"The whole of this paragraph must now appear a tissue of inconsequenceand incoherence. All experience does not show that 'drowned bodies'require from six to ten days for sufficient decomposition to take placeto bring them to the surface. Both science and experience show that theperiod of their rising is, and necessarily must be, indeterminate. If, moreover, a body has risen to the surface through firing of cannon, it will not 'sink again if let alone, ' until decomposition has so farprogressed as to permit the escape of the generated gas. But I wish tocall your attention to the distinction which is made between 'drownedbodies, ' and 'bodies thrown into the water immediately after death byviolence. ' Although the writer admits the distinction, he yet includesthem all in the same category. I have shown how it is that the body ofa drowning man becomes specifically heavier than its bulk of water, and that he would not sink at all, except for the struggles by whichhe elevates his arms above the surface, and his gasps for breath whilebeneath the surface--gasps which supply by water the place of theoriginal air in the lungs. But these struggles and these gasps wouldnot occur in the body 'thrown into the water immediately after death byviolence. ' Thus, in the latter instance, the body, as a general rule, would not sink at all--a fact of which L'Etoile is evidently ignorant. When decomposition had proceeded to a very great extent--when the fleshhad in a great measure left the bones--then, indeed, but not till then, should we lose sight of the corpse. 

"And now what are we to make of the argument, that the body found couldnot be that of Marie Rogêt, because, three days only having elapsed, this body was found floating? If drowned, being a woman, she might neverhave sunk; or having sunk, might have reappeared in twenty-four hours, or less. But no one supposes her to have been drowned; and, dying beforebeing thrown into the river, she might have been found floating at anyperiod afterwards whatever. 

"'But, ' says L'Etoile, 'if the body had been kept in its mangled stateon shore until Tuesday night, some trace would be found on shore of themurderers. ' Here it is at first difficult to perceive the intentionof the reasoner. He means to anticipate what he imagines would be anobjection to his theory--viz: that the body was kept on shore two days, suffering rapid decomposition--more rapid than if immersed in water. Hesupposes that, had this been the case, it might have appeared at thesurface on the Wednesday, and thinks that only under such circumstancesit could so have appeared. He is accordingly in haste to show that itwas not kept on shore; for, if so, 'some trace would be found on shoreof the murderers. ' I presume you smile at the sequitur. You cannotbe made to see how the mere duration of the corpse on the shore couldoperate to multiply traces of the assassins. Nor can I. 

"'And furthermore it is exceedingly improbable, ' continues our journal, 'that any villains who had committed such a murder as is here supposed, would have thrown the body in without weight to sink it, when sucha precaution could have so easily been taken. ' Observe, here, thelaughable confusion of thought! No one--not even L'Etoile--disputesthe murder committed _on the body found_. The marks of violence are tooobvious. It is our reasoner's object merely to show that this body isnot Marie's. He wishes to prove that Marie is not assassinated--not thatthe corpse was not. Yet his observation proves only the latter point. Here is a corpse without weight attached. Murderers, casting it in, would not have failed to attach a weight. Therefore it was not thrown inby murderers. This is all which is proved, if any thing is. The questionof identity is not even approached, and L'Etoile has been at great painsmerely to gainsay now what it has admitted only a moment before. 'Weare perfectly convinced, ' it says, 'that the body found was that of amurdered female. '

"Nor is this the sole instance, even in this division of his subject, where our reasoner unwittingly reasons against himself. His evidentobject, I have already said, is to reduce, us much as possible, theinterval between Marie's disappearance and the finding of the corpse. Yet we find him urging the point that no person saw the girl from themoment of her leaving her mother's house. 'We have no evidence, ' hesays, 'that Marie Rogêt was in the land of the living after nine o'clockon Sunday, June the twenty-second. ' As his argument is obviously an exparte one, he should, at least, have left this matter out of sight; forhad any one been known to see Marie, say on Monday, or on Tuesday, the interval in question would have been much reduced, and, by his ownratiocination, the probability much diminished of the corpse being thatof the grisette. It is, nevertheless, amusing to observe that L'Etoileinsists upon its point in the full belief of its furthering its generalargument. 

"Reperuse now that portion of this argument which has reference to theidentification of the corpse by Beauvais. In regard to the hair upon thearm, L'Etoile has been obviously disingenuous. M. Beauvais, not being anidiot, could never have urged, in identification of the corpse, simplyhair upon its arm. No arm is without hair. The generality of theexpression of L'Etoile is a mere perversion of the witness' phraseology. He must have spoken of some peculiarity in this hair. It must have beena peculiarity of color, of quantity, of length, or of situation. 

"'Her foot, ' says the journal, 'was small--so are thousands of feet. Hergarter is no proof whatever--nor is her shoe--for shoes and garters aresold in packages. The same may be said of the flowers in her hat. Onething upon which M. Beauvais strongly insists is, that the clasp on thegarter found, had been set back to take it in. This amounts to nothing;for most women find it proper to take a pair of garters home and fitthem to the size of the limbs they are to encircle, rather than to trythem in the store where they purchase. ' Here it is difficult to supposethe reasoner in earnest. Had M. Beauvais, in his search for the body ofMarie, discovered a corpse corresponding in general size and appearanceto the missing girl, he would have been warranted (without reference tothe question of habiliment at all) in forming an opinion that his searchhad been successful. If, in addition to the point of general size andcontour, he had found upon the arm a peculiar hairy appearance which hehad observed upon the living Marie, his opinion might have been justlystrengthened; and the increase of positiveness might well have been inthe ratio of the peculiarity, or unusualness, of the hairy mark. If, the feet of Marie being small, those of the corpse were also small, theincrease of probability that the body was that of Marie would not be anincrease in a ratio merely arithmetical, but in one highly geometrical, or accumulative. Add to all this shoes such as she had been known towear upon the day of her disappearance, and, although these shoes may be'sold in packages, ' you so far augment the probability as to verge uponthe certain. What, of itself, would be no evidence of identity, becomesthrough its corroborative position, proof most sure. Give us, then, flowers in the hat corresponding to those worn by the missing girl, andwe seek for nothing farther. If only one flower, we seek for nothingfarther--what then if two or three, or more? Each successive oneis multiple evidence--proof not _added_ to proof, but multiplied byhundreds or thousands. Let us now discover, upon the deceased, garterssuch as the living used, and it is almost folly to proceed. But thesegarters are found to be tightened, by the setting back of a clasp, in just such a manner as her own had been tightened by Marie, shortlyprevious to her leaving home. It is now madness or hypocrisy to doubt. What L'Etoile says in respect to this abbreviation of the garter's beingan usual occurrence, shows nothing beyond its own pertinacity in error. The elastic nature of the clasp-garter is self-demonstration of theunusualness of the abbreviation. What is made to adjust itself, must ofnecessity require foreign adjustment but rarely. It must have been by anaccident, in its strictest sense, that these garters of Marie neededthe tightening described. They alone would have amply established heridentity. But it is not that the corpse was found to have the gartersof the missing girl, or found to have her shoes, or her bonnet, or theflowers of her bonnet, or her feet, or a peculiar mark upon the arm, or her general size and appearance--it is that the corpse had each, and _all collectively_. Could it be proved that the editor of L'Etoile_really_ entertained a doubt, under the circumstances, there would beno need, in his case, of a commission de lunatico inquirendo. He hasthought it sagacious to echo the small talk of the lawyers, who, for themost part, content themselves with echoing the rectangular precepts ofthe courts. I would here observe that very much of what is rejected asevidence by a court, is the best of evidence to the intellect. Forthe court, guiding itself by the general principles of evidence--therecognized and _booked_ principles--is averse from swerving atparticular instances. And this steadfast adherence to principle, withrigorous disregard of the conflicting exception, is a sure mode ofattaining the maximum of attainable truth, in any long sequence of time. The practice, in mass, is therefore philosophical; but it is not theless certain that it engenders vast individual error. (*16)

"In respect to the insinuations levelled at Beauvais, you will bewilling to dismiss them in a breath. You have already fathomed thetrue character of this good gentleman. He is a busy-body, with muchof romance and little of wit. Any one so constituted will readily soconduct himself, upon occasion of real excitement, as to render himselfliable to suspicion on the part of the over acute, or the ill-disposed. M. Beauvais (as it appears from your notes) had some personal interviewswith the editor of L'Etoile, and offended him by venturing an opinionthat the corpse, notwithstanding the theory of the editor, was, in soberfact, that of Marie. 'He persists, ' says the paper, 'in asserting thecorpse to be that of Marie, but cannot give a circumstance, in additionto those which we have commented upon, to make others believe. ' Now, without re-adverting to the fact that stronger evidence 'to make othersbelieve, ' could never have been adduced, it may be remarked that a manmay very well be understood to believe, in a case of this kind, withoutthe ability to advance a single reason for the belief of a second party. Nothing is more vague than impressions of individual identity. Each manrecognizes his neighbor, yet there are few instances in which any oneis prepared to give a reason for his recognition. The editor of L'Etoilehad no right to be offended at M. Beauvais' unreasoning belief. 

"The suspicious circumstances which invest him, will be found to tallymuch better with my hypothesis of romantic busy-bodyism, than withthe reasoner's suggestion of guilt. Once adopting the more charitableinterpretation, we shall find no difficulty in comprehending the rosein the key-hole; the 'Marie' upon the slate; the 'elbowing the malerelatives out of the way;' the 'aversion to permitting them to seethe body;' the caution given to Madame B----, that she must hold noconversation with the gendarme until his return (Beauvais'); and, lastly, his apparent determination 'that nobody should have anything todo with the proceedings except himself. ' It seems to me unquestionablethat Beauvais was a suitor of Marie's; that she coquetted with him; andthat he was ambitious of being thought to enjoy her fullest intimacyand confidence. I shall say nothing more upon this point; and, as theevidence fully rebuts the assertion of L'Etoile, touching the matterof apathy on the part of the mother and other relatives--an apathyinconsistent with the supposition of their believing the corpse to bethat of the perfumery-girl--we shall now proceed as if the question ofidentity were settled to our perfect satisfaction. "

"And what, " I here demanded, "do you think of the opinions of LeCommerciel?"

"That, in spirit, they are far more worthy of attention than any whichhave been promulgated upon the subject. The deductions from the premisesare philosophical and acute; but the premises, in two instances, atleast, are founded in imperfect observation. Le Commerciel wishes tointimate that Marie was seized by some gang of low ruffians not far fromher mother's door. 'It is impossible, ' it urges, 'that a person so wellknown to thousands as this young woman was, should have passed threeblocks without some one having seen her. ' This is the idea of a man longresident in Paris--a public man--and one whose walks to and fro in thecity, have been mostly limited to the vicinity of the public offices. He is aware that he seldom passes so far as a dozen blocks from his ownbureau, without being recognized and accosted. And, knowing the extentof his personal acquaintance with others, and of others with him, hecompares his notoriety with that of the perfumery-girl, finds no greatdifference between them, and reaches at once the conclusion that she, inher walks, would be equally liable to recognition with himself inhis. This could only be the case were her walks of the same unvarying, methodical character, and within the same species of limited regionas are his own. He passes to and fro, at regular intervals, within aconfined periphery, abounding in individuals who are led to observationof his person through interest in the kindred nature of his occupationwith their own. But the walks of Marie may, in general, be supposeddiscursive. In this particular instance, it will be understood as mostprobable, that she proceeded upon a route of more than average diversityfrom her accustomed ones. The parallel which we imagine to have existedin the mind of Le Commerciel would only be sustained in the event of thetwo individuals' traversing the whole city. In this case, granting thepersonal acquaintances to be equal, the chances would be also equal thatan equal number of personal rencounters would be made. For my ownpart, I should hold it not only as possible, but as very far more thanprobable, that Marie might have proceeded, at any given period, by anyone of the many routes between her own residence and that of her aunt, without meeting a single individual whom she knew, or by whom she wasknown. In viewing this question in its full and proper light, we musthold steadily in mind the great disproportion between the personalacquaintances of even the most noted individual in Paris, and the entirepopulation of Paris itself. 

"But whatever force there may still appear to be in the suggestion of LeCommerciel, will be much diminished when we take into consideration thehour at which the girl went abroad. 'It was when the streets were fullof people, ' says Le Commerciel, 'that she went out. ' But not so. It wasat nine o'clock in the morning. Now at nine o'clock of every morning inthe week, _with the exception of Sunday_, the streets of the city are, it is true, thronged with people. At nine on Sunday, the populace arechiefly within doors _preparing for church_. No observing person canhave failed to notice the peculiarly deserted air of the town, fromabout eight until ten on the morning of every Sabbath. Between ten andeleven the streets are thronged, but not at so early a period as thatdesignated. 

"There is another point at which there seems a deficiency of observationon the part of Le Commerciel. 'A piece, ' it says, 'of one of theunfortunate girl's petticoats, two feet long, and one foot wide, wastorn out and tied under her chin, and around the back of her head, probably to prevent screams. This was done, by fellows who had nopocket-handkerchiefs. ' Whether this idea is, or is not well founded, we will endeavor to see hereafter; but by 'fellows who have nopocket-handkerchiefs' the editor intends the lowest class of ruffians. These, however, are the very description of people who will always befound to have handkerchiefs even when destitute of shirts. You must havehad occasion to observe how absolutely indispensable, of late years, tothe thorough blackguard, has become the pocket-handkerchief. "

"And what are we to think, " I asked, "of the article in Le Soleil?"

"That it is a vast pity its inditer was not born a parrot--in whichcase he would have been the most illustrious parrot of his race. He hasmerely repeated the individual items of the already published opinion;collecting them, with a laudable industry, from this paper and fromthat. 'The things had all evidently been there, ' he says, 'at least, three or four weeks, and there can be _no doubt_ that the spot of thisappalling outrage has been discovered. ' The facts here re-stated byLe Soleil, are very far indeed from removing my own doubts upon thissubject, and we will examine them more particularly hereafter inconnexion with another division of the theme. 

"At present we must occupy ourselves with other investigations Youcannot fail to have remarked the extreme laxity of the examination ofthe corpse. To be sure, the question of identity was readily determined, or should have been; but there were other points to be ascertained. Hadthe body been in any respect despoiled? Had the deceased any articlesof jewelry about her person upon leaving home? if so, had she any whenfound? These are important questions utterly untouched by the evidence;and there are others of equal moment, which have met with no attention. We must endeavor to satisfy ourselves by personal inquiry. The case ofSt. Eustache must be re-examined. I have no suspicion of this person;but let us proceed methodically. We will ascertain beyond a doubt thevalidity of the affidavits in regard to his whereabouts on the Sunday. Affidavits of this character are readily made matter of mystification. Should there be nothing wrong here, however, we will dismiss St. Eustache from our investigations. His suicide, however corroborative ofsuspicion, were there found to be deceit in the affidavits, is, withoutsuch deceit, in no respect an unaccountable circumstance, or one whichneed cause us to deflect from the line of ordinary analysis. 

"In that which I now propose, we will discard the interior points ofthis tragedy, and concentrate our attention upon its outskirts. Not theleast usual error, in investigations such as this, is the limiting ofinquiry to the immediate, with total disregard of the collateral orcircumstantial events. It is the mal-practice of the courts to confineevidence and discussion to the bounds of apparent relevancy. Yetexperience has shown, and a true philosophy will always show, that avast, perhaps the larger portion of truth, arises from the seeminglyirrelevant. It is through the spirit of this principle, if not preciselythrough its letter, that modern science has resolved to calculate uponthe unforeseen. But perhaps you do not comprehend me. The history ofhuman knowledge has so uninterruptedly shown that to collateral, orincidental, or accidental events we are indebted for the most numerousand most valuable discoveries, that it has at length become necessary, in any prospective view of improvement, to make not only large, but thelargest allowances for inventions that shall arise by chance, and quiteout of the range of ordinary expectation. It is no longer philosophicalto base, upon what has been, a vision of what is to be. Accident isadmitted as a portion of the substructure. We make chance a matter ofabsolute calculation. We subject the unlooked for and unimagined, to themathematical _formulae_ of the schools. 

"I repeat that it is no more than fact, that the larger portion of alltruth has sprung from the collateral; and it is but in accordance withthe spirit of the principle involved in this fact, that I would divertinquiry, in the present case, from the trodden and hitherto unfruitfulground of the event itself, to the contemporary circumstances whichsurround it. While you ascertain the validity of the affidavits, I willexamine the newspapers more generally than you have as yet done. So far, we have only reconnoitred the field of investigation; but it will bestrange indeed if a comprehensive survey, such as I propose, of thepublic prints, will not afford us some minute points which shallestablish a direction for inquiry. "

In pursuance of Dupin's suggestion, I made scrupulous examination ofthe affair of the affidavits. The result was a firm conviction of theirvalidity, and of the consequent innocence of St. Eustache. In the meantime my friend occupied himself, with what seemed to me a minutenessaltogether objectless, in a scrutiny of the various newspaper files. Atthe end of a week he placed before me the following extracts:

"About three years and a half ago, a disturbance very similar to thepresent, was caused by the disappearance of this same Marie Rogêt, fromthe parfumerie of Monsieur Le Blanc, in the Palais Royal. At the end ofa week, however, she re-appeared at her customary comptoir, as well asever, with the exception of a slight paleness not altogether usual. Itwas given out by Monsieur Le Blanc and her mother, that she had merelybeen on a visit to some friend in the country; and the affair wasspeedily hushed up. We presume that the present absence is a freak ofthe same nature, and that, at the expiration of a week, or perhaps ofa month, we shall have her among us again. "--Evening Paper--Monday June23. (*17)

"An evening journal of yesterday, refers to a former mysteriousdisappearance of Mademoiselle Rogêt. It is well known that, during theweek of her absence from Le Blanc's parfumerie, she was in the companyof a young naval officer, much noted for his debaucheries. A quarrel, itis supposed, providentially led to her return home. We have the name ofthe Lothario in question, who is, at present, stationed in Paris, but, for obvious reasons, forbear to make it public. "--Le Mercurie--TuesdayMorning, June 24. (*18)

"An outrage of the most atrocious character was perpetrated near thiscity the day before yesterday. A gentleman, with his wife and daughter, engaged, about dusk, the services of six young men, who were idly rowinga boat to and fro near the banks of the Seine, to convey him across theriver. Upon reaching the opposite shore, the three passengers steppedout, and had proceeded so far as to be beyond the view of the boat, when the daughter discovered that she had left in it her parasol. Shereturned for it, was seized by the gang, carried out into the stream, gagged, brutally treated, and finally taken to the shore at a pointnot far from that at which she had originally entered the boat with herparents. The villains have escaped for the time, but the police are upontheir trail, and some of them will soon be taken. "--Morning Paper--June25. (*19)

"We have received one or two communications, the object of which is tofasten the crime of the late atrocity upon Mennais; (*20) but as thisgentleman has been fully exonerated by a loyal inquiry, and as thearguments of our several correspondents appear to be more zealous thanprofound, we do not think it advisable to make them public. "--MorningPaper--June 28. (*21)

"We have received several forcibly written communications, apparentlyfrom various sources, and which go far to render it a matter ofcertainty that the unfortunate Marie Rogêt has become a victim of one ofthe numerous bands of blackguards which infest the vicinity of the cityupon Sunday. Our own opinion is decidedly in favor of thissupposition. We shall endeavor to make room for some of these argumentshereafter. "--Evening Paper--Tuesday, June 31. (*22)

"On Monday, one of the bargemen connected with the revenue service, sawa empty boat floating down the Seine. Sails were lying in the bottom ofthe boat. The bargeman towed it under the barge office. The next morningit was taken from thence, without the knowledge of any of the officers. The rudder is now at the barge office. "--Le Diligence--Thursday, June26. 

Upon reading these various extracts, they not only seemed to meirrelevant, but I could perceive no mode in which any one of themcould be brought to bear upon the matter in hand. I waited for someexplanation from Dupin. 

"It is not my present design, " he said, "to dwell upon the first andsecond of those extracts. I have copied them chiefly to show you theextreme remissness of the police, who, as far as I can understand fromthe Prefect, have not troubled themselves, in any respect, with anexamination of the naval officer alluded to. Yet it is mere folly to saythat between the first and second disappearance of Marie, there isno _supposable_ connection. Let us admit the first elopement to haveresulted in a quarrel between the lovers, and the return home of thebetrayed. We are now prepared to view a second elopement (if we knowthat an elopement has again taken place) as indicating a renewal of thebetrayer's advances, rather than as the result of new proposals by asecond individual--we are prepared to regard it as a 'making up' of theold amour, rather than as the commencement of a new one. The chances areten to one, that he who had once eloped with Marie, would again proposean elopement, rather than that she to whom proposals of elopement hadbeen made by one individual, should have them made to her by another. And here let me call your attention to the fact, that the time elapsingbetween the first ascertained, and the second supposed elopement, isa few months more than the general period of the cruises of ourmen-of-war. Had the lover been interrupted in his first villany by thenecessity of departure to sea, and had he seized the first moment of hisreturn to renew the base designs not yet altogether accomplished--ornot yet altogether accomplished by _him?_ Of all these things we knownothing. 

"You will say, however, that, in the second instance, there was noelopement as imagined. Certainly not--but are we prepared to say thatthere was not the frustrated design? Beyond St. Eustache, and perhapsBeauvais, we find no recognized, no open, no honorable suitors of Marie. Of none other is there any thing said. Who, then, is the secret lover, of whom the relatives (at least most of them) know nothing, but whomMarie meets upon the morning of Sunday, and who is so deeply in herconfidence, that she hesitates not to remain with him until the shadesof the evening descend, amid the solitary groves of the Barrière duRoule? Who is that secret lover, I ask, of whom, at least, most of therelatives know nothing? And what means the singular prophecy of MadameRogêt on the morning of Marie's departure?--'I fear that I shall neversee Marie again. '

"But if we cannot imagine Madame Rogêt privy to the design of elopement, may we not at least suppose this design entertained by the girl? Uponquitting home, she gave it to be understood that she was about to visither aunt in the Rue des Drômes and St. Eustache was requested to callfor her at dark. Now, at first glance, this fact strongly militatesagainst my suggestion;--but let us reflect. That she did meet somecompanion, and proceed with him across the river, reaching the Barrièredu Roule at so late an hour as three o'clock in the afternoon, isknown. But in consenting so to accompany this individual, (_for whateverpurpose--to her mother known or unknown, _) she must have thought of herexpressed intention when leaving home, and of the surprise and suspicionaroused in the bosom of her affianced suitor, St. Eustache, when, calling for her, at the hour appointed, in the Rue des Drômes, he shouldfind that she had not been there, and when, moreover, upon returning tothe pension with this alarming intelligence, he should become aware ofher continued absence from home. She must have thought of these things, I say. She must have foreseen the chagrin of St. Eustache, the suspicionof all. She could not have thought of returning to brave this suspicion;but the suspicion becomes a point of trivial importance to her, if wesuppose her not intending to return. 

"We may imagine her thinking thus--'I am to meet a certain person forthe purpose of elopement, or for certain other purposes known only tomyself. It is necessary that there be no chance of interruption--theremust be sufficient time given us to elude pursuit--I will give it to beunderstood that I shall visit and spend the day with my aunt at the Ruedes Drômes--I well tell St. Eustache not to call for me until dark--inthis way, my absence from home for the longest possible period, withoutcausing suspicion or anxiety, will be accounted for, and I shall gainmore time than in any other manner. If I bid St. Eustache call for meat dark, he will be sure not to call before; but, if I wholly neglectto bid him call, my time for escape will be diminished, since it willbe expected that I return the earlier, and my absence will the soonerexcite anxiety. Now, if it were my design to return at all--if I had incontemplation merely a stroll with the individual in question--it wouldnot be my policy to bid St. Eustache call; for, calling, he will be sureto ascertain that I have played him false--a fact of which I might keephim for ever in ignorance, by leaving home without notifying him of myintention, by returning before dark, and by then stating that I had beento visit my aunt in the Rue des Drômes. But, as it is my design neverto return--or not for some weeks--or not until certain concealments areeffected--the gaining of time is the only point about which I need givemyself any concern. '

"You have observed, in your notes, that the most general opinion inrelation to this sad affair is, and was from the first, that the girlhad been the victim of a gang of blackguards. Now, the popular opinion, under certain conditions, is not to be disregarded. When arising ofitself--when manifesting itself in a strictly spontaneous manner--weshould look upon it as analogous with that _intuition_ which is theidiosyncrasy of the individual man of genius. In ninety-nine cases fromthe hundred I would abide by its decision. But it is important that wefind no palpable traces of _suggestion_. The opinion must be rigorously_the public's own_; and the distinction is often exceedingly difficultto perceive and to maintain. In the present instance, it appears to methat this 'public opinion' in respect to a gang, has been superinducedby the collateral event which is detailed in the third of my extracts. All Paris is excited by the discovered corpse of Marie, a girl young, beautiful and notorious. This corpse is found, bearing marks ofviolence, and floating in the river. But it is now made known that, atthe very period, or about the very period, in which it is supposed thatthe girl was assassinated, an outrage similar in nature to that enduredby the deceased, although less in extent, was perpetuated, by a gangof young ruffians, upon the person of a second young female. Is itwonderful that the one known atrocity should influence the popularjudgment in regard to the other unknown? This judgment awaiteddirection, and the known outrage seemed so opportunely to afford it!Marie, too, was found in the river; and upon this very river was thisknown outrage committed. The connexion of the two events had about it somuch of the palpable, that the true wonder would have been a failureof the populace to appreciate and to seize it. But, in fact, the oneatrocity, known to be so committed, is, if any thing, evidence that theother, committed at a time nearly coincident, was not so committed. It would have been a miracle indeed, if, while a gang of ruffians wereperpetrating, at a given locality, a most unheard-of wrong, there shouldhave been another similar gang, in a similar locality, in the samecity, under the same circumstances, with the same means and appliances, engaged in a wrong of precisely the same aspect, at precisely thesame period of time! Yet in what, if not in this marvellous train ofcoincidence, does the accidentally suggested opinion of the populacecall upon us to believe?

"Before proceeding farther, let us consider the supposed scene of theassassination, in the thicket at the Barrière du Roule. This thicket, although dense, was in the close vicinity of a public road. Withinwere three or four large stones, forming a kind of seat with a back andfootstool. On the upper stone was discovered a white petticoat; on thesecond, a silk scarf. A parasol, gloves, and a pocket-handkerchief, were also here found. The handkerchief bore the name, 'Marie Rogêt. 'Fragments of dress were seen on the branches around. The earth wastrampled, the bushes were broken, and there was every evidence of aviolent struggle. 

"Notwithstanding the acclamation with which the discovery of thisthicket was received by the press, and the unanimity with which itwas supposed to indicate the precise scene of the outrage, it must beadmitted that there was some very good reason for doubt. That it was thescene, I may or I may not believe--but there was excellent reason fordoubt. Had the true scene been, as Le Commerciel suggested, in theneighborhood of the Rue Pavée St. Andrée, the perpetrators of thecrime, supposing them still resident in Paris, would naturally have beenstricken with terror at the public attention thus acutely directed intothe proper channel; and, in certain classes of minds, there would havearisen, at once, a sense of the necessity of some exertion to redivertthis attention. And thus, the thicket of the Barrière du Roule havingbeen already suspected, the idea of placing the articles where they werefound, might have been naturally entertained. There is no real evidence, although Le Soleil so supposes, that the articles discovered hadbeen more than a very few days in the thicket; while there is muchcircumstantial proof that they could not have remained there, withoutattracting attention, during the twenty days elapsing between the fatalSunday and the afternoon upon which they were found by the boys. 'Theywere all _mildewed_ down hard, ' says Le Soleil, adopting the opinions ofits predecessors, 'with the action of the rain, and stuck together from_mildew_. The grass had grown around and over some of them. The silk ofthe parasol was strong, but the threads of it were run together within. The upper part, where it bad been doubled and folded, was all _mildewed_and rotten, and tore on being opened. ' In respect to the grass having'. Grown around and over some of them, ' it is obvious that the factcould only have been ascertained from the words, and thus from therecollections, of two small boys; for these boys removed the articlesand took them home before they had been seen by a third party. But grasswill grow, especially in warm and damp weather, (such as was that of theperiod of the murder, ) as much as two or three inches in a single day. A parasol lying upon a newly turfed ground, might, in a single week, be entirely concealed from sight by the upspringing grass. And touchingthat mildew upon which the editor of Le Soleil so pertinaciouslyinsists, that he employs the word no less than three times in thebrief paragraph just quoted, is he really unaware of the nature of thismildew? Is he to be told that it is one of the many classes of fungus, of which the most ordinary feature is its upspringing and decadencewithin twenty-four hours?

"Thus we see, at a glance, that what has been most triumphantly adducedin support of the idea that the articles bad been 'for at least threeor four weeks' in the thicket, is most absurdly null as regards anyevidence of that fact. On the other hand, it is exceedingly difficultto believe that these articles could have remained in the thicketspecified, for a longer period than a single week--for a longer periodthan from one Sunday to the next. Those who know any thing of thevicinity of Paris, know the extreme difficulty of finding seclusionunless at a great distance from its suburbs. Such a thing as anunexplored, or even an unfrequently visited recess, amid its woods orgroves, is not for a moment to be imagined. Let any one who, being atheart a lover of nature, is yet chained by duty to the dust and heatof this great metropolis--let any such one attempt, even during theweekdays, to slake his thirst for solitude amid the scenes of naturalloveliness which immediately surround us. At every second step, he willfind the growing charm dispelled by the voice and personal intrusionof some ruffian or party of carousing blackguards. He will seek privacyamid the densest foliage, all in vain. Here are the very nooks where theunwashed most abound--here are the temples most desecrate. With sicknessof the heart the wanderer will flee back to the polluted Paris as toa less odious because less incongruous sink of pollution. But if thevicinity of the city is so beset during the working days of the week, how much more so on the Sabbath! It is now especially that, releasedfrom the claims of labor, or deprived of the customary opportunities ofcrime, the town blackguard seeks the precincts of the town, not throughlove of the rural, which in his heart he despises, but by way of escapefrom the restraints and conventionalities of society. He desiresless the fresh air and the green trees, than the utter license of thecountry. Here, at the road-side inn, or beneath the foliage of thewoods, he indulges, unchecked by any eye except those of his booncompanions, in all the mad excess of a counterfeit hilarity--the jointoffspring of liberty and of rum. I say nothing more than what mustbe obvious to every dispassionate observer, when I repeat that thecircumstance of the articles in question having remained undiscovered, for a longer period--than from one Sunday to another, in any thicket inthe immediate neighborhood of Paris, is to be looked upon as little lessthan miraculous. 

"But there are not wanting other grounds for the suspicion that thearticles were placed in the thicket with the view of diverting attentionfrom the real scene of the outrage. And, first, let me direct yournotice to the date of the discovery of the articles. Collate this withthe date of the fifth extract made by myself from the newspapers. Youwill find that the discovery followed, almost immediately, the urgentcommunications sent to the evening paper. These communications, althoughvarious and apparently from various sources, tended all to the samepoint--viz. , the directing of attention to a gang as the perpetratorsof the outrage, and to the neighborhood of the Barrière du Roule as itsscene. Now here, of course, the suspicion is not that, in consequence ofthese communications, or of the public attention by them directed, thearticles were found by the boys; but the suspicion might and may wellhave been, that the articles were not before found by the boys, for thereason that the articles had not before been in the thicket; havingbeen deposited there only at so late a period as at the date, or shortlyprior to the date of the communications by the guilty authors of thesecommunications themselves. 

"This thicket was a singular--an exceedingly singular one. It wasunusually dense. Within its naturally walled enclosure were threeextraordinary stones, forming a seat with a back and footstool. And thisthicket, so full of a natural art, was in the immediate vicinity, withina few rods, of the dwelling of Madame Deluc, whose boys were in thehabit of closely examining the shrubberies about them in search ofthe bark of the sassafras. Would it be a rash wager--a wager of onethousand to one--that a day never passed over the heads of these boyswithout finding at least one of them ensconced in the umbrageous hall, and enthroned upon its natural throne? Those who would hesitate at sucha wager, have either never been boys themselves, or have forgotten theboyish nature. I repeat--it is exceedingly hard to comprehend how thearticles could have remained in this thicket undiscovered, for a longerperiod than one or two days; and that thus there is good ground forsuspicion, in spite of the dogmatic ignorance of Le Soleil, that theywere, at a comparatively late date, deposited where found. 

"But there are still other and stronger reasons for believing them sodeposited, than any which I have as yet urged. And, now, let me begyour notice to the highly artificial arrangement of the articles. On theupper stone lay a white petticoat; on the second a silk scarf; scatteredaround, were a parasol, gloves, and a pocket-handkerchief bearing thename, 'Marie Rogêt. ' Here is just such an arrangement as would naturallybe made by a not over-acute person wishing to dispose the articlesnaturally. But it is by no means a really natural arrangement. Ishould rather have looked to see the things all lying on the ground andtrampled under foot. In the narrow limits of that bower, it would havebeen scarcely possible that the petticoat and scarf should have retaineda position upon the stones, when subjected to the brushing to and froof many struggling persons. 'There was evidence, ' it is said, 'of astruggle; and the earth was trampled, the bushes were broken, '--but thepetticoat and the scarf are found deposited as if upon shelves. 'Thepieces of the frock torn out by the bushes were about three inches wideand six inches long. One part was the hem of the frock and it had beenmended. They looked like strips torn off. ' Here, inadvertently, LeSoleil has employed an exceedingly suspicious phrase. The pieces, asdescribed, do indeed 'look like strips torn off;' but purposely and byhand. It is one of the rarest of accidents that a piece is 'torn off, 'from any garment such as is now in question, by the agency of a thorn. From the very nature of such fabrics, a thorn or nail becoming entangledin them, tears them rectangularly--divides them into two longitudinalrents, at right angles with each other, and meeting at an apex where thethorn enters--but it is scarcely possible to conceive the piece 'tornoff. ' I never so knew it, nor did you. To tear a piece off from suchfabric, two distinct forces, in different directions, will be, in almostevery case, required. If there be two edges to the fabric--if, forexample, it be a pocket-handkerchief, and it is desired to tear from ita slip, then, and then only, will the one force serve the purpose. Butin the present case the question is of a dress, presenting but one edge. To tear a piece from the interior, where no edge is presented, couldonly be effected by a miracle through the agency of thorns, and no onethorn could accomplish it. But, even where an edge is presented, twothorns will be necessary, operating, the one in two distinct directions, and the other in one. And this in the supposition that the edge isunhemmed. If hemmed, the matter is nearly out of the question. We thussee the numerous and great obstacles in the way of pieces being 'tornoff' through the simple agency of 'thorns;' yet we are required tobelieve not only that one piece but that many have been so torn. 'Andone part, ' too, 'was the hem of the frock!' Another piece was 'partof the skirt, not the hem, '--that is to say, was torn completely outthrough the agency of thorns, from the uncaged interior of thedress! These, I say, are things which one may well be pardoned fordisbelieving; yet, taken collectedly, they form, perhaps, less ofreasonable ground for suspicion, than the one startling circumstance ofthe articles' having been left in this thicket at all, by any murdererswho had enough precaution to think of removing the corpse. You will nothave apprehended me rightly, however, if you suppose it my design todeny this thicket as the scene of the outrage. There might have been awrong here, or, more possibly, an accident at Madame Deluc's. But, infact, this is a point of minor importance. We are not engaged in anattempt to discover the scene, but to produce the perpetrators of themurder. What I have adduced, notwithstanding the minuteness with which Ihave adduced it, has been with the view, first, to show the folly of thepositive and headlong assertions of Le Soleil, but secondly and chiefly, to bring you, by the most natural route, to a further contemplation ofthe doubt whether this assassination has, or has not been, the work of agang. 

"We will resume this question by mere allusion to the revolting detailsof the surgeon examined at the inquest. It is only necessary to say thatis published inferences, in regard to the number of ruffians, have beenproperly ridiculed as unjust and totally baseless, by all the reputableanatomists of Paris. Not that the matter might not have been asinferred, but that there was no ground for the inference:--was there notmuch for another?

"Let us reflect now upon 'the traces of a struggle;' and let me ask whatthese traces have been supposed to demonstrate. A gang. But do they notrather demonstrate the absence of a gang? What struggle could have takenplace--what struggle so violent and so enduring as to have left its'traces' in all directions--between a weak and defenceless girl and thegang of ruffians imagined? The silent grasp of a few rough arms and allwould have been over. The victim must have been absolutely passive attheir will. You will here bear in mind that the arguments urged againstthe thicket as the scene, are applicable in chief part, only against itas the scene of an outrage committed by more than a single individual. If we imagine but one violator, we can conceive, and thus only conceive, the struggle of so violent and so obstinate a nature as to have left the'traces' apparent. 

"And again. I have already mentioned the suspicion to be excited by thefact that the articles in question were suffered to remain at all inthe thicket where discovered. It seems almost impossible that theseevidences of guilt should have been accidentally left where found. Therewas sufficient presence of mind (it is supposed) to remove the corpse;and yet a more positive evidence than the corpse itself (whose featuresmight have been quickly obliterated by decay, ) is allowed to lieconspicuously in the scene of the outrage--I allude to the handkerchiefwith the name of the deceased. If this was accident, it was notthe accident of a gang. We can imagine it only the accident of anindividual. Let us see. An individual has committed the murder. Heis alone with the ghost of the departed. He is appalled by what liesmotionless before him. The fury of his passion is over, and there isabundant room in his heart for the natural awe of the deed. His is noneof that confidence which the presence of numbers inevitably inspires. He is alone with the dead. He trembles and is bewildered. Yet there isa necessity for disposing of the corpse. He bears it to the river, butleaves behind him the other evidences of guilt; for it is difficult, ifnot impossible to carry all the burthen at once, and it will be easy toreturn for what is left. But in his toilsome journey to the water hisfears redouble within him. The sounds of life encompass his path. Adozen times he hears or fancies the step of an observer. Even the verylights from the city bewilder him. Yet, in time and by long and frequentpauses of deep agony, he reaches the river's brink, and disposes ofhis ghastly charge--perhaps through the medium of a boat. But now whattreasure does the world hold--what threat of vengeance could it holdout--which would have power to urge the return of that lonely murdererover that toilsome and perilous path, to the thicket and its bloodchilling recollections? He returns not, let the consequences be whatthey may. He could not return if he would. His sole thought is immediateescape. He turns his back forever upon those dreadful shrubberies andflees as from the wrath to come. 

"But how with a gang? Their number would have inspired them withconfidence; if, indeed confidence is ever wanting in the breast of thearrant blackguard; and of arrant blackguards alone are the supposedgangs ever constituted. Their number, I say, would have prevented thebewildering and unreasoning terror which I have imagined to paralyze thesingle man. Could we suppose an oversight in one, or two, or three, thisoversight would have been remedied by a fourth. They would have leftnothing behind them; for their number would have enabled them to carryall at once. There would have been no need of return. 

"Consider now the circumstance that in the outer garment of the corpsewhen found, 'a slip, about a foot wide had been torn upward from thebottom hem to the waist wound three times round the waist, and securedby a sort of hitch in the back. ' This was done with the obvious designof affording a handle by which to carry the body. But would any numberof men have dreamed of resorting to such an expedient? To three or four, the limbs of the corpse would have afforded not only a sufficient, butthe best possible hold. The device is that of a single individual; andthis brings us to the fact that 'between the thicket and the river, therails of the fences were found taken down, and the ground bore evidenttraces of some heavy burden having been dragged along it!' But would anumber of men have put themselves to the superfluous trouble of takingdown a fence, for the purpose of dragging through it a corpse which theymight have lifted over any fence in an instant? Would a number of menhave so dragged a corpse at all as to have left evident traces of thedragging?

"And here we must refer to an observation of Le Commerciel; anobservation upon which I have already, in some measure, commented. 'Apiece, ' says this journal, 'of one of the unfortunate girl's petticoatswas torn out and tied under her chin, and around the back of herhead, probably to prevent screams. This was done by fellows who had nopocket-handkerchiefs. '

"I have before suggested that a genuine blackguard is never without apocket-handkerchief. But it is not to this fact that I now especiallyadvert. That it was not through want of a handkerchief for the purposeimagined by Le Commerciel, that this bandage was employed, is renderedapparent by the handkerchief left in the thicket; and that the objectwas not 'to prevent screams' appears, also, from the bandage having beenemployed in preference to what would so much better have answeredthe purpose. But the language of the evidence speaks of the strip inquestion as 'found around the neck, fitting loosely, and secured witha hard knot. ' These words are sufficiently vague, but differ materiallyfrom those of Le Commerciel. The slip was eighteen inches wide, andtherefore, although of muslin, would form a strong band when folded orrumpled longitudinally. And thus rumpled it was discovered. My inferenceis this. The solitary murderer, having borne the corpse, for somedistance, (whether from the thicket or elsewhere) by means of thebandage hitched around its middle, found the weight, in this modeof procedure, too much for his strength. He resolved to drag theburthen--the evidence goes to show that it was dragged. With this objectin view, it became necessary to attach something like a rope to one ofthe extremities. It could be best attached about the neck, where thehead would prevent its slipping off. And, now, the murderer bethoughthim, unquestionably, of the bandage about the loins. He would have usedthis, but for its volution about the corpse, the hitch which embarrassedit, and the reflection that it had not been 'torn off' from the garment. It was easier to tear a new slip from the petticoat. He tore it, madeit fast about the neck, and so dragged his victim to the brink of theriver. That this 'bandage, ' only attainable with trouble and delay, andbut imperfectly answering its purpose--that this bandage was employedat all, demonstrates that the necessity for its employment sprang fromcircumstances arising at a period when the handkerchief was no longerattainable--that is to say, arising, as we have imagined, after quittingthe thicket, (if the thicket it was), and on the road between thethicket and the river. 

"But the evidence, you will say, of Madame Deluc, (!) points especiallyto the presence of a gang, in the vicinity of the thicket, at or aboutthe epoch of the murder. This I grant. I doubt if there were not a dozengangs, such as described by Madame Deluc, in and about the vicinity ofthe Barrière du Roule at or about the period of this tragedy. But thegang which has drawn upon itself the pointed animadversion, although thesomewhat tardy and very suspicious evidence of Madame Deluc, is theonly gang which is represented by that honest and scrupulous old ladyas having eaten her cakes and swallowed her brandy, without puttingthemselves to the trouble of making her payment. Et hinc illæ iræ?

"But what is the precise evidence of Madame Deluc? 'A gang of miscreantsmade their appearance, behaved boisterously, ate and drank withoutmaking payment, followed in the route of the young man and girl, returned to the inn about dusk, and recrossed the river as if in greathaste. '

"Now this 'great haste' very possibly seemed greater haste in the eyesof Madame Deluc, since she dwelt lingeringly and lamentingly upon herviolated cakes and ale--cakes and ale for which she might still haveentertained a faint hope of compensation. Why, otherwise, since it wasabout dusk, should she make a point of the haste? It is no cause forwonder, surely, that even a gang of blackguards should make haste toget home, when a wide river is to be crossed in small boats, when stormimpends, and when night approaches. 

"I say approaches; for the night had not yet arrived. It was only aboutdusk that the indecent haste of these 'miscreants' offended the sobereyes of Madame Deluc. But we are told that it was upon this very eveningthat Madame Deluc, as well as her eldest son, 'heard the screams of afemale in the vicinity of the inn. ' And in what words does Madame Delucdesignate the period of the evening at which these screams were heard?'It was soon after dark, ' she says. But 'soon after dark, ' is, at least, dark; and 'about dusk' is as certainly daylight. Thus it is abundantlyclear that the gang quitted the Barrière du Roule prior to the screamsoverheard (?) by Madame Deluc. And although, in all the many reports ofthe evidence, the relative expressions in question are distinctly andinvariably employed just as I have employed them in this conversationwith yourself, no notice whatever of the gross discrepancy has, as yet, been taken by any of the public journals, or by any of the Myrmidons ofpolice. 

"I shall add but one to the arguments against a gang; but this one has, to my own understanding at least, a weight altogether irresistible. Under the circumstances of large reward offered, and full pardon toany King's evidence, it is not to be imagined, for a moment, that somemember of a gang of low ruffians, or of any body of men, would not longago have betrayed his accomplices. Each one of a gang so placed, is notso much greedy of reward, or anxious for escape, as fearful of betrayal. He betrays eagerly and early that he may not himself be betrayed. Thatthe secret has not been divulged, is the very best of proof that it is, in fact, a secret. The horrors of this dark deed are known only to one, or two, living human beings, and to God. 

"Let us sum up now the meagre yet certain fruits of our long analysis. We have attained the idea either of a fatal accident under the roof ofMadame Deluc, or of a murder perpetrated, in the thicket at the Barrièredu Roule, by a lover, or at least by an intimate and secret associate ofthe deceased. This associate is of swarthy complexion. This complexion, the 'hitch' in the bandage, and the 'sailor's knot, ' with which thebonnet-ribbon is tied, point to a seaman. His companionship with thedeceased, a gay, but not an abject young girl, designates him asabove the grade of the common sailor. Here the well written and urgentcommunications to the journals are much in the way of corroboration. Thecircumstance of the first elopement, as mentioned by Le Mercurie, tendsto blend the idea of this seaman with that of the 'naval officer' who isfirst known to have led the unfortunate into crime. 

"And here, most fitly, comes the consideration of the continuedabsence of him of the dark complexion. Let me pause to observe that thecomplexion of this man is dark and swarthy; it was no common swarthinesswhich constituted the sole point of remembrance, both as regards Valenceand Madame Deluc. But why is this man absent? Was he murdered by thegang? If so, why are there only traces of the assassinated girl? Thescene of the two outrages will naturally be supposed identical. Andwhere is his corpse? The assassins would most probably have disposedof both in the same way. But it may be said that this man lives, and isdeterred from making himself known, through dread of being charged withthe murder. This consideration might be supposed to operate upon himnow--at this late period--since it has been given in evidence that hewas seen with Marie--but it would have had no force at the period of thedeed. The first impulse of an innocent man would have been to announcethe outrage, and to aid in identifying the ruffians. This policy wouldhave suggested. He had been seen with the girl. He had crossed the riverwith her in an open ferry-boat. The denouncing of the assassins wouldhave appeared, even to an idiot, the surest and sole means of relievinghimself from suspicion. We cannot suppose him, on the night of the fatalSunday, both innocent himself and incognizant of an outrage committed. Yet only under such circumstances is it possible to imagine that hewould have failed, if alive, in the denouncement of the assassins. 

"And what means are ours, of attaining the truth? We shall find thesemeans multiplying and gathering distinctness as we proceed. Let us siftto the bottom this affair of the first elopement. Let us know thefull history of 'the officer, ' with his present circumstances, andhis whereabouts at the precise period of the murder. Let us carefullycompare with each other the various communications sent to the eveningpaper, in which the object was to inculpate a gang. This done, let uscompare these communications, both as regards style and MS. , withthose sent to the morning paper, at a previous period, and insisting sovehemently upon the guilt of Mennais. And, all this done, let us againcompare these various communications with the known MSS. Of the officer. Let us endeavor to ascertain, by repeated questionings of Madame Delucand her boys, as well as of the omnibus driver, Valence, something moreof the personal appearance and bearing of the 'man of dark complexion. 'Queries, skilfully directed, will not fail to elicit, from some ofthese parties, information on this particular point (or uponothers)--information which the parties themselves may not even be awareof possessing. And let us now trace the boat picked up by the bargemanon the morning of Monday the twenty-third of June, and which wasremoved from the barge-office, without the cognizance of the officerin attendance, and without the rudder, at some period prior to thediscovery of the corpse. With a proper caution and perseverance we shallinfallibly trace this boat; for not only can the bargeman who pickedit up identify it, but the rudder is at hand. The rudder of a sail-boatwould not have been abandoned, without inquiry, by one altogether atease in heart. And here let me pause to insinuate a question. There wasno advertisement of the picking up of this boat. It was silentlytaken to the barge-office, and as silently removed. But its owner oremployer--how happened he, at so early a period as Tuesday morning, tobe informed, without the agency of advertisement, of the locality ofthe boat taken up on Monday, unless we imagine some connexion with thenavy--some personal permanent connexion leading to cognizance of itsminute in interests--its petty local news?

"In speaking of the lonely assassin dragging his burden to the shore, I have already suggested the probability of his availing himself of aboat. Now we are to understand that Marie Rogêt was precipitated from aboat. This would naturally have been the case. The corpse could not havebeen trusted to the shallow waters of the shore. The peculiar marks onthe back and shoulders of the victim tell of the bottom ribs of a boat. That the body was found without weight is also corroborative of theidea. If thrown from the shore a weight would have been attached. We canonly account for its absence by supposing the murderer to have neglectedthe precaution of supplying himself with it before pushing off. In theact of consigning the corpse to the water, he would unquestionably havenoticed his oversight; but then no remedy would have been at hand. Any risk would have been preferred to a return to that accursed shore. Having rid himself of his ghastly charge, the murderer would havehastened to the city. There, at some obscure wharf, he would have leapedon land. But the boat--would he have secured it? He would have beenin too great haste for such things as securing a boat. Moreover, infastening it to the wharf, he would have felt as if securing evidenceagainst himself. His natural thought would have been to cast from him, as far as possible, all that had held connection with his crime. Hewould not only have fled from the wharf, but he would not have permittedthe boat to remain. Assuredly he would have cast it adrift. Let uspursue our fancies. --In the morning, the wretch is stricken withunutterable horror at finding that the boat has been picked up anddetained at a locality which he is in the daily habit of frequenting--at a locality, perhaps, which his duty compels him to frequent. Thenext night, without daring to ask for the rudder, he removes it. Nowwhere is that rudderless boat? Let it be one of our first purposesto discover. With the first glimpse we obtain of it, the dawn of oursuccess shall begin. This boat shall guide us, with a rapidity whichwill surprise even ourselves, to him who employed it in the midnight ofthe fatal Sabbath. Corroboration will rise upon corroboration, and themurderer will be traced. "

[For reasons which we shall not specify, but which to many readers willappear obvious, we have taken the liberty of here omitting, from theMSS. Placed in our hands, such portion as details the following up ofthe apparently slight clew obtained by Dupin. We feel it advisable onlyto state, in brief, that the result desired was brought to pass; andthat the Prefect fulfilled punctually, although with reluctance, theterms of his compact with the Chevalier. Mr. Poe's article concludeswith the following words. --Eds. (*23)]

It will be understood that I speak of coincidences and no more. WhatI have said above upon this topic must suffice. In my own heart theredwells no faith in præter-nature. That Nature and its God are two, noman who thinks, will deny. That the latter, creating the former, can, atwill, control or modify it, is also unquestionable. I say "at will;" forthe question is of will, and not, as the insanity of logic has assumed, of power. It is not that the Deity cannot modify his laws, but that weinsult him in imagining a possible necessity for modification. In theirorigin these laws were fashioned to embrace all contingencies whichcould lie in the Future. With God all is Now. 

I repeat, then, that I speak of these things only as of coincidences. And farther: in what I relate it will be seen that between the fate ofthe unhappy Mary Cecilia Rogers, so far as that fate is known, and thefate of one Marie Rogêt up to a certain epoch in her history, there hasexisted a parallel in the contemplation of whose wonderful exactitudethe reason becomes embarrassed. I say all this will be seen. But let itnot for a moment be supposed that, in proceeding with the sad narrativeof Marie from the epoch just mentioned, and in tracing to its dénouementthe mystery which enshrouded her, it is my covert design to hint at anextension of the parallel, or even to suggest that the measures adoptedin Paris for the discovery of the assassin of a grisette, or measuresfounded in any similar ratiocination, would produce any similar result. 

For, in respect to the latter branch of the supposition, it should beconsidered that the most trifling variation in the facts of thetwo cases might give rise to the most important miscalculations, by diverting thoroughly the two courses of events; very much as, in arithmetic, an error which, in its own individuality, may beinappreciable, produces, at length, by dint of multiplication at allpoints of the process, a result enormously at variance with truth. And, in regard to the former branch, we must not fail to hold in view thatthe very Calculus of Probabilities to which I have referred, forbids allidea of the extension of the parallel:--forbids it with a positivenessstrong and decided just in proportion as this parallel has already beenlong-drawn and exact. This is one of those anomalous propositions which, seemingly appealing to thought altogether apart from the mathematical, is yet one which only the mathematician can fully entertain. Nothing, for example, is more difficult than to convince the merely generalreader that the fact of sixes having been thrown twice in succession bya player at dice, is sufficient cause for betting the largest odds thatsixes will not be thrown in the third attempt. A suggestion to thiseffect is usually rejected by the intellect at once. It does notappear that the two throws which have been completed, and which lie nowabsolutely in the Past, can have influence upon the throw which existsonly in the Future. The chance for throwing sixes seems to be preciselyas it was at any ordinary time--that is to say, subject only to theinfluence of the various other throws which may be made by the dice. Andthis is a reflection which appears so exceedingly obvious that attemptsto controvert it are received more frequently with a derisive smilethan with anything like respectful attention. The error here involved--agross error redolent of mischief--I cannot pretend to expose within thelimits assigned me at present; and with the philosophical it needsno exposure. It may be sufficient here to say that it forms one of aninfinite series of mistakes which arise in the path or Reason throughher propensity for seeking truth in detail. 

Footnotes--Marie Rogêt

(*1) Upon the original publication of "Marie Roget, " the foot-notes nowappended were considered unnecessary; but the lapse of several yearssince the tragedy upon which the tale is based, renders it expedientto give them, and also to say a few words in explanation of the generaldesign. A young girl, Mary Cecilia Rogers, was murdered in thevicinity of New York; and, although her death occasioned an intense andlong-enduring excitement, the mystery attending it had remainedunsolved at the period when the present paper was written and published(November, 1842). Herein, under pretence of relating the fate ofa Parisian grisette, the author has followed in minute detail, theessential, while merely paralleling the inessential facts of the realmurder of Mary Rogers. Thus all argument founded upon the fiction isapplicable to the truth: and the investigation of the truth was theobject. The "Mystery of Marie Roget" was composed at a distance from thescene of the atrocity, and with no other means of investigation than thenewspapers afforded. Thus much escaped the writer of which he could haveavailed himself had he been upon the spot, and visited the localities. It may not be improper to record, nevertheless, that the confessions oftwo persons, (one of them the Madame Deluc of the narrative) made, atdifferent periods, long subsequent to the publication, confirmed, infull, not only the general conclusion, but absolutely all the chiefhypothetical details by which that conclusion was attained. 

(*2) The nom de plume of Von Hardenburg. 

(*3) Nassau Street. 

(*4) Anderson. 

(*5) The Hudson. 

(*6) Weehawken. 

(*7) Payne. 

(*8) Crommelin. 

(*9) The New York "Mercury. "

(*10) The New York "Brother Jonathan, " edited by H. Hastings Weld, Esq. 

(*11) New York "Journal of Commerce. "

(*12) Philadelphia "Saturday Evening Post, " edited by C. I. Peterson, Esq. 

(*13) Adam

(*14) See "Murders in the Rue Morgue. "

(*15) The New York "Commercial Advertiser, " edited by Col. Stone. 

(*16) "A theory based on the qualities of an object, will prevent itsbeing unfolded according to its objects; and he who arranges topics inreference to their causes, will cease to value them according to theirresults. Thus the jurisprudence of every nation will show that, when lawbecomes a science and a system, it ceases to be justice. The errorsinto which a blind devotion to principles of classification has led thecommon law, will be seen by observing how often the legislature hasbeen obliged to come forward to restore the equity its scheme hadlost. "--Landor. 

(*17) New York "Express"

(*18) New York "Herald. "

(*19) New York "Courier and Inquirer. "

(*20) Mennais was one of the parties originally suspected and arrested, but discharged through total lack of evidence. 

(*21) New York "Courier and Inquirer. "

(*22) New York "Evening Post. "

(*23) Of the Magazine in which the article was originally published. 

THE BALLOON-HOAX

 [Astounding News by Express, _via_ Norfolk!--The Atlantic crossed in Three Days! Signal Triumph of Mr. Monck Mason's Flying Machine!--Arrival at Sullivan's Island, near Charlestown, S. C. , of Mr. Mason, Mr. Robert Holland, Mr. Henson, Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, and four others, in the Steering Balloon, "Victoria, " after a passage of Seventy-five Hours from Land to Land! Full Particulars of the Voyage!

 The subjoined _jeu d'esprit_ with the preceding heading in magnificent capitals, well interspersed with notes of admiration, was originally published, as matter of fact, in the "New York Sun, " a daily newspaper, and therein fully subserved the purpose of creating indigestible aliment for the _quidnuncs_ during the few hours intervening between a couple of the Charleston mails. The rush for the "sole paper which had the news, " was something beyond even the prodigious; and, in fact, if (as some assert) the "Victoria" _did_ not absolutely accomplish the voyage recorded, it will be difficult to assign a reason why she _should_ not have accomplished it. ]

THE great problem is at length solved! The air, as well as the earthand the ocean, has been subdued by science, and will become a common andconvenient highway for mankind. _The Atlantic has been actually crossedin a Balloon!_ and this too without difficulty--without any greatapparent danger--with thorough control of the machine--and in theinconceivably brief period of seventy-five hours from shore to shore!By the energy of an agent at Charleston, S. C. , we are enabled to bethe first to furnish the public with a detailed account of this mostextraordinary voyage, which was performed between Saturday, the 6thinstant, at 11, A. M. , and 2, P. M. , on Tuesday, the 9th instant, by SirEverard Bringhurst; Mr. Osborne, a nephew of Lord Bentinck's; Mr. MonckMason and Mr. Robert Holland, the well-known æronauts; Mr. HarrisonAinsworth, author of "Jack Sheppard, " &c. ; and Mr. Henson, theprojector of the late unsuccessful flying machine--with two seamen fromWoolwich--in all, eight persons. The particulars furnished below may berelied on as authentic and accurate in every respect, as, with a slightexception, they are copied _verbatim_ from the joint diaries of Mr. Monck Mason and Mr. Harrison Ainsworth, to whose politeness our agent isalso indebted for much verbal information respecting the balloon itself, its construction, and other matters of interest. The only alteration inthe MS. Received, has been made for the purpose of throwing the hurriedaccount of our agent, Mr. Forsyth, into a connected and intelligibleform. 

"THE BALLOON. 

"Two very decided failures, of late--those of Mr. Henson and Sir GeorgeCayley--had much weakened the public interest in the subject of aerialnavigation. Mr. Henson's scheme (which at first was considered veryfeasible even by men of science, ) was founded upon the principle of aninclined plane, started from an eminence by an extrinsic force, appliedand continued by the revolution of impinging vanes, in form and numberresembling the vanes of a windmill. But, in all the experiments madewith models at the Adelaide Gallery, it was found that the operation ofthese fans not only did not propel the machine, but actually impededits flight. The only propelling force it ever exhibited, was the mere_impetus_ acquired from the descent of the inclined plane; and this_impetus_ carried the machine farther when the vanes were at rest, thanwhen they were in motion--a fact which sufficiently demonstrates theirinutility; and in the absence of the propelling, which was also the_sustaining_ power, the whole fabric would necessarily descend. This consideration led Sir George Cayley to think only of adaptinga propeller to some machine having of itself an independent power ofsupport--in a word, to a balloon; the idea, however, being novel, or original, with Sir George, only so far as regards the mode of itsapplication to practice. He exhibited a model of his invention at thePolytechnic Institution. The propelling principle, or power, was here, also, applied to interrupted surfaces, or vanes, put in revolution. These vanes were four in number, but were found entirely ineffectual inmoving the balloon, or in aiding its ascending power. The whole projectwas thus a complete failure. 

"It was at this juncture that Mr. Monck Mason (whose voyage from Doverto Weilburg in the balloon, "Nassau, " occasioned so much excitement in1837, ) conceived the idea of employing the principle of the Archimedeanscrew for the purpose of propulsion through the air--rightlyattributing the failure of Mr. Henson's scheme, and of Sir GeorgeCayley's, to the interruption of surface in the independent vanes. He made the first public experiment at Willis's Rooms, but afterwardremoved his model to the Adelaide Gallery. 

"Like Sir George Cayley's balloon, his own was an ellipsoid. Itslength was thirteen feet six inches--height, six feet eight inches. Itcontained about three hundred and twenty cubic feet of gas, which, ifpure hydrogen, would support twenty-one pounds upon its first inflation, before the gas has time to deteriorate or escape. The weight of thewhole machine and apparatus was seventeen pounds--leaving about fourpounds to spare. Beneath the centre of the balloon, was a frame of lightwood, about nine feet long, and rigged on to the balloon itself witha network in the customary manner. From this framework was suspended awicker basket or car. 

"The screw consists of an axis of hollow brass tube, eighteen inches inlength, through which, upon a semi-spiral inclined at fifteen degrees, pass a series of steel wire radii, two feet long, and thus projecting afoot on either side. These radii are connected at the outer extremitiesby two bands of flattened wire--the whole in this manner forming theframework of the screw, which is completed by a covering of oiled silkcut into gores, and tightened so as to present a tolerably uniformsurface. At each end of its axis this screw is supported by pillars ofhollow brass tube descending from the hoop. In the lower ends of thesetubes are holes in which the pivots of the axis revolve. From the endof the axis which is next the car, proceeds a shaft of steel, connectingthe screw with the pinion of a piece of spring machinery fixed in thecar. By the operation of this spring, the screw is made to revolve withgreat rapidity, communicating a progressive motion to the whole. Bymeans of the rudder, the machine was readily turned in any direction. The spring was of great power, compared with its dimensions, beingcapable of raising forty-five pounds upon a barrel of four inchesdiameter, after the first turn, and gradually increasing as it was woundup. It weighed, altogether, eight pounds six ounces. The rudder wasa light frame of cane covered with silk, shaped somewhat like abattle-door, and was about three feet long, and at the widest, one foot. Its weight was about two ounces. It could be turned _flat_, and directedupwards or downwards, as well as to the right or left; and thus enabledthe æronaut to transfer the resistance of the air which in an inclinedposition it must generate in its passage, to any side upon which hemight desire to act; thus determining the balloon in the oppositedirection. 

"This model (which, through want of time, we have necessarily describedin an imperfect manner, ) was put in action at the Adelaide Gallery, where it accomplished a velocity of five miles per hour; although, strange to say, it excited very little interest in comparison with theprevious complex machine of Mr. Henson--so resolute is the worldto despise anything which carries with it an air of simplicity. Toaccomplish the great desideratum of ærial navigation, it was verygenerally supposed that some exceedingly complicated application must bemade of some unusually profound principle in dynamics. 

"So well satisfied, however, was Mr. Mason of the ultimate success ofhis invention, that he determined to construct immediately, if possible, a balloon of sufficient capacity to test the question by a voyage ofsome extent--the original design being to cross the British Channel, asbefore, in the Nassau balloon. To carry out his views, he solicited andobtained the patronage of Sir Everard Bringhurst and Mr. Osborne, twogentlemen well known for scientific acquirement, and especially for theinterest they have exhibited in the progress of ærostation. The project, at the desire of Mr. Osborne, was kept a profound secret from thepublic--the only persons entrusted with the design being those actuallyengaged in the construction of the machine, which was built (under thesuperintendence of Mr. Mason, Mr. Holland, Sir Everard Bringhurst, andMr. Osborne, ) at the seat of the latter gentleman near Penstruthal, inWales. Mr. Henson, accompanied by his friend Mr. Ainsworth, was admittedto a private view of the balloon, on Saturday last--when the twogentlemen made final arrangements to be included in the adventure. Weare not informed for what reason the two seamen were also included inthe party--but, in the course of a day or two, we shall put our readersin possession of the minutest particulars respecting this extraordinaryvoyage. 

"The balloon is composed of silk, varnished with the liquid gumcaoutchouc. It is of vast dimensions, containing more than 40, 000 cubicfeet of gas; but as coal gas was employed in place of the more expensiveand inconvenient hydrogen, the supporting power of the machine, whenfully inflated, and immediately after inflation, is not more than about2500 pounds. The coal gas is not only much less costly, but is easilyprocured and managed. 

"For its introduction into common use for purposes of aerostation, weare indebted to Mr. Charles Green. Up to his discovery, the process ofinflation was not only exceedingly expensive, but uncertain. Two, andeven three days, have frequently been wasted in futile attempts toprocure a sufficiency of hydrogen to fill a balloon, from which ithad great tendency to escape, owing to its extreme subtlety, and itsaffinity for the surrounding atmosphere. In a balloon sufficientlyperfect to retain its contents of coal-gas unaltered, in quantity oramount, for six months, an equal quantity of hydrogen could not bemaintained in equal purity for six weeks. 

"The supporting power being estimated at 2500 pounds, and the unitedweights of the party amounting only to about 1200, there was left asurplus of 1300, of which again 1200 was exhausted by ballast, arrangedin bags of different sizes, with their respective weights marked uponthem--by cordage, barometers, telescopes, barrels containing provisionfor a fortnight, water-casks, cloaks, carpet-bags, and various otherindispensable matters, including a coffee-warmer, contrived for warmingcoffee by means of slack-lime, so as to dispense altogether with fire, if it should be judged prudent to do so. All these articles, with theexception of the ballast, and a few trifles, were suspended from thehoop overhead. The car is much smaller and lighter, in proportion, thanthe one appended to the model. It is formed of a light wicker, and iswonderfully strong, for so frail looking a machine. Its rim is aboutfour feet deep. The rudder is also very much larger, in proportion, thanthat of the model; and the screw is considerably smaller. The balloon isfurnished besides with a grapnel, and a guide-rope; which latter is ofthe most indispensable importance. A few words, in explanation, willhere be necessary for such of our readers as are not conversant with thedetails of aerostation. 

"As soon as the balloon quits the earth, it is subjected to theinfluence of many circumstances tending to create a difference in itsweight; augmenting or diminishing its ascending power. For example, there may be a deposition of dew upon the silk, to the extent, even, of several hundred pounds; ballast has then to be thrown out, or themachine may descend. This ballast being discarded, and a clear sunshineevaporating the dew, and at the same time expanding the gas in the silk, the whole will again rapidly ascend. To check this ascent, the onlyrecourse is, (or rather _was_, until Mr. Green's invention of theguide-rope, ) the permission of the escape of gas from the valve; but, inthe loss of gas, is a proportionate general loss of ascending power; sothat, in a comparatively brief period, the best-constructed balloon mustnecessarily exhaust all its resources, and come to the earth. This wasthe great obstacle to voyages of length. 

"The guide-rope remedies the difficulty in the simplest mannerconceivable. It is merely a very long rope which is suffered to trailfrom the car, and the effect of which is to prevent the balloon fromchanging its level in any material degree. If, for example, there shouldbe a deposition of moisture upon the silk, and the machine begins todescend in consequence, there will be no necessity for dischargingballast to remedy the increase of weight, for it is remedied, orcounteracted, in an exactly just proportion, by the deposit on theground of just so much of the end of the rope as is necessary. If, on the other hand, any circumstances should cause undue levity, andconsequent ascent, this levity is immediately counteracted by theadditional weight of rope upraised from the earth. Thus, the ballooncan neither ascend or descend, except within very narrow limits, and itsresources, either in gas or ballast, remain comparatively unimpaired. When passing over an expanse of water, it becomes necessary to employsmall kegs of copper or wood, filled with liquid ballast of a lighternature than water. These float, and serve all the purposes of a mererope on land. Another most important office of the guide-rope, is topoint out the _direction_ of the balloon. The rope _drags_, either onland or sea, while the balloon is free; the latter, consequently, isalways in advance, when any progress whatever is made: a comparison, therefore, by means of the compass, of the relative positions of the twoobjects, will always indicate the _course_. In the same way, the angleformed by the rope with the vertical axis of the machine, indicatesthe _velocity_. When there is _no_ angle--in other words, when the ropehangs perpendicularly, the whole apparatus is stationary; but the largerthe angle, that is to say, the farther the balloon precedes the end ofthe rope, the greater the velocity; and the converse. 

"As the original design was to cross the British Channel, and alight asnear Paris as possible, the voyagers had taken the precaution to preparethemselves with passports directed to all parts of the Continent, specifying the nature of the expedition, as in the case of the Nassauvoyage, and entitling the adventurers to exemption from the usualformalities of office: unexpected events, however, rendered thesepassports superfluous. 

"The inflation was commenced very quietly at daybreak, on Saturdaymorning, the 6th instant, in the Court-Yard of Weal-Vor House, Mr. Osborne's seat, about a mile from Penstruthal, in North Wales; and at 7minutes past 11, every thing being ready for departure, the balloon wasset free, rising gently but steadily, in a direction nearly South; nouse being made, for the first half hour, of either the screw or therudder. We proceed now with the journal, as transcribed by Mr. Forsythfrom the joint MSS. Of Mr. Monck Mason, and Mr. Ainsworth. The body ofthe journal, as given, is in the hand-writing of Mr. Mason, and a P. S. Is appended, each day, by Mr. Ainsworth, who has in preparation, andwill shortly give the public a more minute, and no doubt, a thrillinglyinteresting account of the voyage. 

"THE JOURNAL. 

"_Saturday, April the 6th_. --Every preparation likely to embarrass us, having been made over night, we commenced the inflation this morning atdaybreak; but owing to a thick fog, which encumbered the folds of thesilk and rendered it unmanageable, we did not get through before nearlyeleven o'clock. Cut loose, then, in high spirits, and rose gently butsteadily, with a light breeze at North, which bore us in the directionof the British Channel. Found the ascending force greater than we hadexpected; and as we arose higher and so got clear of the cliffs, andmore in the sun's rays, our ascent became very rapid. I did not wish, however, to lose gas at so early a period of the adventure, and soconcluded to ascend for the present. We soon ran out our guide-rope;but even when we had raised it clear of the earth, we still went up veryrapidly. The balloon was unusually steady, and looked beautifully. Inabout ten minutes after starting, the barometer indicated an altitudeof 15, 000 feet. The weather was remarkably fine, and the view of thesubjacent country--a most romantic one when seen from any point, --wasnow especially sublime. The numerous deep gorges presented theappearance of lakes, on account of the dense vapors with which theywere filled, and the pinnacles and crags to the South East, piled ininextricable confusion, resembling nothing so much as the giant citiesof eastern fable. We were rapidly approaching the mountains in theSouth; but our elevation was more than sufficient to enable us to passthem in safety. In a few minutes we soared over them in fine style; andMr. Ainsworth, with the seamen, was surprised at their apparent want ofaltitude when viewed from the car, the tendency of great elevation in aballoon being to reduce inequalities of the surface below, to nearlya dead level. At half-past eleven still proceeding nearly South, weobtained our first view of the Bristol Channel; and, in fifteen minutesafterward, the line of breakers on the coast appeared immediatelybeneath us, and we were fairly out at sea. We now resolved to let offenough gas to bring our guide-rope, with the buoys affixed, into thewater. This was immediately done, and we commenced a gradual descent. In about twenty minutes our first buoy dipped, and at the touch of thesecond soon afterwards, we remained stationary as to elevation. We wereall now anxious to test the efficiency of the rudder and screw, and weput them both into requisition forthwith, for the purpose of alteringour direction more to the eastward, and in a line for Paris. By means ofthe rudder we instantly effected the necessary change of direction, andour course was brought nearly at right angles to that of the wind; whenwe set in motion the spring of the screw, and were rejoiced to find itpropel us readily as desired. Upon this we gave nine hearty cheers, anddropped in the sea a bottle, enclosing a slip of parchment with a briefaccount of the principle of the invention. Hardly, however, had wedone with our rejoicings, when an unforeseen accident occurred whichdiscouraged us in no little degree. The steel rod connecting the springwith the propeller was suddenly jerked out of place, at the car end, (bya swaying of the car through some movement of one of the two seamen wehad taken up, ) and in an instant hung dangling out of reach, from thepivot of the axis of the screw. While we were endeavoring to regain it, our attention being completely absorbed, we became involved in a strongcurrent of wind from the East, which bore us, with rapidly increasingforce, towards the Atlantic. We soon found ourselves driving out to seaat the rate of not less, certainly, than fifty or sixty miles an hour, so that we came up with Cape Clear, at some forty miles to our North, before we had secured the rod, and had time to think what we were about. It was now that Mr. Ainsworth made an extraordinary, but to my fancy, a by no means unreasonable or chimerical proposition, in which he wasinstantly seconded by Mr. Holland--viz. : that we should take advantageof the strong gale which bore us on, and in place of beating back toParis, make an attempt to reach the coast of North America. After slightreflection I gave a willing assent to this bold proposition, which(strange to say) met with objection from the two seamen only. As thestronger party, however, we overruled their fears, and kept resolutelyupon our course. We steered due West; but as the trailing of the buoysmaterially impeded our progress, and we had the balloon abundantly atcommand, either for ascent or descent, we first threw out fifty poundsof ballast, and then wound up (by means of a windlass) so much of therope as brought it quite clear of the sea. We perceived the effect ofthis manoeuvre immediately, in a vastly increased rate of progress; and, as the gale freshened, we flew with a velocity nearly inconceivable; theguide-rope flying out behind the car, like a streamer from a vessel. Itis needless to say that a very short time sufficed us to lose sight ofthe coast. We passed over innumerable vessels of all kinds, a few ofwhich were endeavoring to beat up, but the most of them lying to. Weoccasioned the greatest excitement on board all--an excitement greatlyrelished by ourselves, and especially by our two men, who, now under theinfluence of a dram of Geneva, seemed resolved to give all scruple, orfear, to the wind. Many of the vessels fired signal guns; and in allwe were saluted with loud cheers (which we heard with surprisingdistinctness) and the waving of caps and handkerchiefs. We kept on inthis manner throughout the day, with no material incident, and, asthe shades of night closed around us, we made a rough estimate of thedistance traversed. It could not have been less than five hundredmiles, and was probably much more. The propeller was kept in constantoperation, and, no doubt, aided our progress materially. As the sunwent down, the gale freshened into an absolute hurricane, and the oceanbeneath was clearly visible on account of its phosphorescence. The windwas from the East all night, and gave us the brightest omen of success. We suffered no little from cold, and the dampness of the atmosphere wasmost unpleasant; but the ample space in the car enabled us to lie down, and by means of cloaks and a few blankets, we did sufficiently well. 

"P. S. (by Mr. Ainsworth. ) The last nine hours have been unquestionablythe most exciting of my life. I can conceive nothing more sublimatingthan the strange peril and novelty of an adventure such as this. MayGod grant that we succeed! I ask not success for mere safety to myinsignificant person, but for the sake of human knowledge and--for thevastness of the triumph. And yet the feat is only so evidently feasiblethat the sole wonder is why men have scrupled to attempt it before. Onesingle gale such as now befriends us--let such a tempest whirl forwarda balloon for four or five days (these gales often last longer) and thevoyager will be easily borne, in that period, from coast to coast. Inview of such a gale the broad Atlantic becomes a mere lake. I am morestruck, just now, with the supreme silence which reigns in thesea beneath us, notwithstanding its agitation, than with any otherphenomenon presenting itself. The waters give up no voice tothe heavens. The immense flaming ocean writhes and is tortureduncomplainingly. The mountainous surges suggest the idea of innumerabledumb gigantic fiends struggling in impotent agony. In a night such as isthis to me, a man _lives_--lives a whole century of ordinary life--norwould I forego this rapturous delight for that of a whole century ofordinary existence. 

"_Sunday, the seventh_. [Mr. Mason's MS. ] This morning the gale, by 10, had subsided to an eight or nine--knot breeze, (for a vessel at sea, )and bears us, perhaps, thirty miles per hour, or more. It has veered, however, very considerably to the north; and now, at sundown, we areholding our course due west, principally by the screw and rudder, whichanswer their purposes to admiration. I regard the project as thoroughlysuccessful, and the easy navigation of the air in any direction (notexactly in the teeth of a gale) as no longer problematical. We could nothave made head against the strong wind of yesterday; but, by ascending, we might have got out of its influence, if requisite. Against a prettystiff breeze, I feel convinced, we can make our way with the propeller. At noon, to-day, ascended to an elevation of nearly 25, 000 feet, bydischarging ballast. Did this to search for a more direct current, butfound none so favorable as the one we are now in. We have an abundanceof gas to take us across this small pond, even should the voyagelast three weeks. I have not the slightest fear for the result. Thedifficulty has been strangely exaggerated and misapprehended. I canchoose my current, and should I find _all_ currents against me, I canmake very tolerable headway with the propeller. We have had no incidentsworth recording. The night promises fair. 

P. S. [By Mr. Ainsworth. ] I have little to record, except the fact (to mequite a surprising one) that, at an elevation equal to that of Cotopaxi, I experienced neither very intense cold, nor headache, nor difficultyof breathing; neither, I find, did Mr. Mason, nor Mr. Holland, nor SirEverard. Mr. Osborne complained of constriction of the chest--but thissoon wore off. We have flown at a great rate during the day, and wemust be more than half way across the Atlantic. We have passed oversome twenty or thirty vessels of various kinds, and all seem to bedelightfully astonished. Crossing the ocean in a balloon is not sodifficult a feat after all. _Omne ignotum pro magnifico. Mem:_ at25, 000 feet elevation the sky appears nearly black, and the stars aredistinctly visible; while the sea does not seem convex (as one mightsuppose) but absolutely and most unequivocally _concave_. (*1)

"_Monday, the 8th_. [Mr. Mason's MS. ] This morning we had again somelittle trouble with the rod of the propeller, which must be entirelyremodelled, for fear of serious accident--I mean the steel rod--notthe vanes. The latter could not be improved. The wind has been blowingsteadily and strongly from the north-east all day and so far fortuneseems bent upon favoring us. Just before day, we were all somewhatalarmed at some odd noises and concussions in the balloon, accompaniedwith the apparent rapid subsidence of the whole machine. These phenomenawere occasioned by the expansion of the gas, through increase of heat inthe atmosphere, and the consequent disruption of the minute particles ofice with which the network had become encrusted during the night. Threwdown several bottles to the vessels below. Saw one of them picked up bya large ship--seemingly one of the New York line packets. Endeavored tomake out her name, but could not be sure of it. Mr. Osborne's telescopemade it out something like "Atalanta. " It is now 12, at night, and weare still going nearly west, at a rapid pace. The sea is peculiarlyphosphorescent. 

"P. S. [By Mr. Ainsworth. ] It is now 2, A. M. , and nearly calm, as well asI can judge--but it is very difficult to determine this point, sincewe move _with_ the air so completely. I have not slept since quittingWheal-Vor, but can stand it no longer, and must take a nap. We cannot befar from the American coast. 

"_Tuesday, the _9_th_. [Mr. Ainsworth's MS. ] _One, P. M. We are infull view of the low coast of South Carolina_. The great problem isaccomplished. We have crossed the Atlantic--fairly and _easily_crossed it in a balloon! God be praised! Who shall say that anything isimpossible hereafter?"

The Journal here ceases. Some particulars of the descent werecommunicated, however, by Mr. Ainsworth to Mr. Forsyth. It was nearlydead calm when the voyagers first came in view of the coast, whichwas immediately recognized by both the seamen, and by Mr. Osborne. The latter gentleman having acquaintances at Fort Moultrie, it wasimmediately resolved to descend in its vicinity. The balloon was broughtover the beach (the tide being out and the sand hard, smooth, andadmirably adapted for a descent, ) and the grapnel let go, which tookfirm hold at once. The inhabitants of the island, and of the fort, thronged out, of course, to see the balloon; but it was with thegreatest difficulty that any one could be made to credit the actualvoyage--_the crossing of the Atlantic_. The grapnel caught at 2, P. M. , precisely; and thus the whole voyage was completed in seventy-fivehours; or rather less, counting from shore to shore. No serious accidentoccurred. No real danger was at any time apprehended. The balloon wasexhausted and secured without trouble; and when the MS. From which thisnarrative is compiled was despatched from Charleston, the party werestill at Fort Moultrie. Their farther intentions were not ascertained;but we can safely promise our readers some additional information eitheron Monday or in the course of the next day, at farthest. 

This is unquestionably the most stupendous, the most interesting, andthe most important undertaking, ever accomplished or even attempted byman. What magnificent events may ensue, it would be useless now to thinkof determining. 

(*1) _Note_. --Mr. Ainsworth has not attempted to account for thisphenomenon, which, however, is quite susceptible of explanation. A linedropped from an elevation of 25, 000 feet, perpendicularly to the surfaceof the earth (or sea), would form the perpendicular of a right-angledtriangle, of which the base would extend from the right angle to thehorizon, and the hypothenuse from the horizon to the balloon. But the25, 000 feet of altitude is little or nothing, in comparison with theextent of the prospect. In other words, the base and hypothenuse of thesupposed triangle would be so long when compared with the perpendicular, that the two former may be regarded as nearly parallel. In this mannerthe horizon of the æronaut would appear to be _on a level_ with thecar. But, as the point immediately beneath him seems, and is, at a greatdistance below him, it seems, of course, also, at a great distance belowthe horizon. Hence the impression of _concavity_; and this impressionmust remain, until the elevation shall bear so great a proportion tothe extent of prospect, that the apparent parallelism of the base andhypothenuse disappears--when the earth's real convexity must becomeapparent. 

MS. FOUND IN A BOTTLE

 Qui n'a plus qu'un moment a vivre

 N'a plus rien a dissimuler. 

 --Quinault--Atys. 

OF my country and of my family I have little to say. Ill usage andlength of years have driven me from the one, and estranged me from theother. Hereditary wealth afforded me an education of no common order, and a contemplative turn of mind enabled me to methodize the storeswhich early study very diligently garnered up. --Beyond all things, the study of the German moralists gave me great delight; not from anyill-advised admiration of their eloquent madness, but from the ease withwhich my habits of rigid thought enabled me to detect their falsities. I have often been reproached with the aridity of my genius; a deficiencyof imagination has been imputed to me as a crime; and the Pyrrhonismof my opinions has at all times rendered me notorious. Indeed, a strongrelish for physical philosophy has, I fear, tinctured my mind witha very common error of this age--I mean the habit of referringoccurrences, even the least susceptible of such reference, to theprinciples of that science. Upon the whole, no person could be lessliable than myself to be led away from the severe precincts of truth bythe ignes fatui of superstition. I have thought proper to premise thusmuch, lest the incredible tale I have to tell should be consideredrather the raving of a crude imagination, than the positive experienceof a mind to which the reveries of fancy have been a dead letter and anullity. 

After many years spent in foreign travel, I sailed in the year 18--, from the port of Batavia, in the rich and populous island of Java, ona voyage to the Archipelago of the Sunda islands. I went aspassenger--having no other inducement than a kind of nervousrestlessness which haunted me as a fiend. 

Our vessel was a beautiful ship of about four hundred tons, copper-fastened, and built at Bombay of Malabar teak. She was freightedwith cotton-wool and oil, from the Lachadive islands. We had also onboard coir, jaggeree, ghee, cocoa-nuts, and a few cases of opium. Thestowage was clumsily done, and the vessel consequently crank. 

We got under way with a mere breath of wind, and for many days stoodalong the eastern coast of Java, without any other incident to beguilethe monotony of our course than the occasional meeting with some of thesmall grabs of the Archipelago to which we were bound. 

One evening, leaning over the taffrail, I observed a very singular, isolated cloud, to the N. W. It was remarkable, as well for its color, asfrom its being the first we had seen since our departure from Batavia. I watched it attentively until sunset, when it spread all at once tothe eastward and westward, girting in the horizon with a narrow stripof vapor, and looking like a long line of low beach. My notice was soonafterwards attracted by the dusky-red appearance of the moon, and thepeculiar character of the sea. The latter was undergoing a rapid change, and the water seemed more than usually transparent. Although I coulddistinctly see the bottom, yet, heaving the lead, I found the ship infifteen fathoms. The air now became intolerably hot, and was loaded withspiral exhalations similar to those arising from heat iron. As nightcame on, every breath of wind died away, an more entire calm it isimpossible to conceive. The flame of a candle burned upon the poopwithout the least perceptible motion, and a long hair, held between thefinger and thumb, hung without the possibility of detecting a vibration. However, as the captain said he could perceive no indication of danger, and as we were drifting in bodily to shore, he ordered the sails tobe furled, and the anchor let go. No watch was set, and the crew, consisting principally of Malays, stretched themselves deliberately upondeck. I went below--not without a full presentiment of evil. Indeed, every appearance warranted me in apprehending a Simoom. I told thecaptain my fears; but he paid no attention to what I said, and left mewithout deigning to give a reply. My uneasiness, however, prevented mefrom sleeping, and about midnight I went upon deck. --As I placed my footupon the upper step of the companion-ladder, I was startled by aloud, humming noise, like that occasioned by the rapid revolution of amill-wheel, and before I could ascertain its meaning, I found the shipquivering to its centre. In the next instant, a wilderness of foamhurled us upon our beam-ends, and, rushing over us fore and aft, sweptthe entire decks from stem to stern. 

The extreme fury of the blast proved, in a great measure, the salvationof the ship. Although completely water-logged, yet, as her masts hadgone by the board, she rose, after a minute, heavily from the sea, and, staggering awhile beneath the immense pressure of the tempest, finallyrighted. 

By what miracle I escaped destruction, it is impossible to say. Stunnedby the shock of the water, I found myself, upon recovery, jammed inbetween the stern-post and rudder. With great difficulty I gained myfeet, and looking dizzily around, was, at first, struck with the idea ofour being among breakers; so terrific, beyond the wildest imagination, was the whirlpool of mountainous and foaming ocean within which we wereengulfed. After a while, I heard the voice of an old Swede, who hadshipped with us at the moment of our leaving port. I hallooed tohim with all my strength, and presently he came reeling aft. We soondiscovered that we were the sole survivors of the accident. All on deck, with the exception of ourselves, had been swept overboard;--the captainand mates must have perished as they slept, for the cabins were delugedwith water. Without assistance, we could expect to do little for thesecurity of the ship, and our exertions were at first paralyzed by themomentary expectation of going down. Our cable had, of course, partedlike pack-thread, at the first breath of the hurricane, or we shouldhave been instantaneously overwhelmed. We scudded with frightfulvelocity before the sea, and the water made clear breaches over us. Theframe-work of our stern was shattered excessively, and, in almost everyrespect, we had received considerable injury; but to our extreme Joy wefound the pumps unchoked, and that we had made no great shifting ofour ballast. The main fury of the blast had already blown over, and weapprehended little danger from the violence of the wind; but we lookedforward to its total cessation with dismay; well believing, that, in ourshattered condition, we should inevitably perish in the tremendous swellwhich would ensue. But this very just apprehension seemed by no meanslikely to be soon verified. For five entire days and nights--duringwhich our only subsistence was a small quantity of jaggeree, procuredwith great difficulty from the forecastle--the hulk flew at a ratedefying computation, before rapidly succeeding flaws of wind, which, without equalling the first violence of the Simoom, were still moreterrific than any tempest I had before encountered. Our course for thefirst four days was, with trifling variations, S. E. And by S. ; and wemust have run down the coast of New Holland. --On the fifth day the coldbecame extreme, although the wind had hauled round a point more to thenorthward. --The sun arose with a sickly yellow lustre, and clambered avery few degrees above the horizon--emitting no decisive light. --Therewere no clouds apparent, yet the wind was upon the increase, and blewwith a fitful and unsteady fury. About noon, as nearly as we couldguess, our attention was again arrested by the appearance of the sun. It gave out no light, properly so called, but a dull and sullen glowwithout reflection, as if all its rays were polarized. Just beforesinking within the turgid sea, its central fires suddenly went out, asif hurriedly extinguished by some unaccountable power. It was a dim, sliver-like rim, alone, as it rushed down the unfathomable ocean. 

We waited in vain for the arrival of the sixth day--that day to mehas not arrived--to the Swede, never did arrive. Thenceforward we wereenshrouded in patchy darkness, so that we could not have seen an objectat twenty paces from the ship. Eternal night continued to envelop us, all unrelieved by the phosphoric sea-brilliancy to which we had beenaccustomed in the tropics. We observed too, that, although the tempestcontinued to rage with unabated violence, there was no longer to bediscovered the usual appearance of surf, or foam, which had hithertoattended us. All around were horror, and thick gloom, and a blacksweltering desert of ebony. --Superstitious terror crept by degrees intothe spirit of the old Swede, and my own soul was wrapped up in silentwonder. We neglected all care of the ship, as worse than useless, andsecuring ourselves, as well as possible, to the stump of the mizen-mast, looked out bitterly into the world of ocean. We had no means ofcalculating time, nor could we form any guess of our situation. We were, however, well aware of having made farther to the southward than anyprevious navigators, and felt great amazement at not meeting with theusual impediments of ice. In the meantime every moment threatened to beour last--every mountainous billow hurried to overwhelm us. The swellsurpassed anything I had imagined possible, and that we were notinstantly buried is a miracle. My companion spoke of the lightness ofour cargo, and reminded me of the excellent qualities of our ship; butI could not help feeling the utter hopelessness of hope itself, andprepared myself gloomily for that death which I thought nothing coulddefer beyond an hour, as, with every knot of way the ship made, the swelling of the black stupendous seas became more dismallyappalling. At times we gasped for breath at an elevation beyond thealbatross--at times became dizzy with the velocity of our descent intosome watery hell, where the air grew stagnant, and no sound disturbedthe slumbers of the kraken. 

We were at the bottom of one of these abysses, when a quick screamfrom my companion broke fearfully upon the night. "See! see!" cried he, shrieking in my ears, "Almighty God! see! see!" As he spoke, I becameaware of a dull, sullen glare of red light which streamed down the sidesof the vast chasm where we lay, and threw a fitful brilliancy upon ourdeck. Casting my eyes upwards, I beheld a spectacle which froze thecurrent of my blood. At a terrific height directly above us, and uponthe very verge of the precipitous descent, hovered a gigantic ship of, perhaps, four thousand tons. Although upreared upon the summit of a wavemore than a hundred times her own altitude, her apparent size exceededthat of any ship of the line or East Indiaman in existence. Her hugehull was of a deep dingy black, unrelieved by any of the customarycarvings of a ship. A single row of brass cannon protruded from her openports, and dashed from their polished surfaces the fires of innumerablebattle-lanterns, which swung to and fro about her rigging. But whatmainly inspired us with horror and astonishment, was that she bore upunder a press of sail in the very teeth of that supernatural sea, and ofthat ungovernable hurricane. When we first discovered her, her bowswere alone to be seen, as she rose slowly from the dim and horrible gulfbeyond her. For a moment of intense terror she paused upon the giddypinnacle, as if in contemplation of her own sublimity, then trembled andtottered, and--came down. 

At this instant, I know not what sudden self-possession came over myspirit. Staggering as far aft as I could, I awaited fearlessly the ruinthat was to overwhelm. Our own vessel was at length ceasing from herstruggles, and sinking with her head to the sea. The shock of thedescending mass struck her, consequently, in that portion of her framewhich was already under water, and the inevitable result was to hurl me, with irresistible violence, upon the rigging of the stranger. 

As I fell, the ship hove in stays, and went about; and to the confusionensuing I attributed my escape from the notice of the crew. With littledifficulty I made my way unperceived to the main hatchway, which waspartially open, and soon found an opportunity of secreting myself in thehold. Why I did so I can hardly tell. An indefinite sense of awe, whichat first sight of the navigators of the ship had taken hold of my mind, was perhaps the principle of my concealment. I was unwilling to trustmyself with a race of people who had offered, to the cursory glance Ihad taken, so many points of vague novelty, doubt, and apprehension. Itherefore thought proper to contrive a hiding-place in the hold. This Idid by removing a small portion of the shifting-boards, in such a manneras to afford me a convenient retreat between the huge timbers of theship. 

I had scarcely completed my work, when a footstep in the hold forced meto make use of it. A man passed by my place of concealment with a feebleand unsteady gait. I could not see his face, but had an opportunityof observing his general appearance. There was about it an evidence ofgreat age and infirmity. His knees tottered beneath a load of years, andhis entire frame quivered under the burthen. He muttered to himself, in a low broken tone, some words of a language which I could notunderstand, and groped in a corner among a pile of singular-lookinginstruments, and decayed charts of navigation. His manner was a wildmixture of the peevishness of second childhood, and the solemn dignityof a God. He at length went on deck, and I saw him no more. 

* * * * *

A feeling, for which I have no name, has taken possession of my soul--a sensation which will admit of no analysis, to which the lessons ofbygone times are inadequate, and for which I fear futurity itselfwill offer me no key. To a mind constituted like my own, the latterconsideration is an evil. I shall never--I know that I shallnever--be satisfied with regard to the nature of my conceptions. Yet itis not wonderful that these conceptions are indefinite, since they havetheir origin in sources so utterly novel. A new sense--a new entity isadded to my soul. 

* * * * *

It is long since I first trod the deck of this terrible ship, and therays of my destiny are, I think, gathering to a focus. Incomprehensiblemen! Wrapped up in meditations of a kind which I cannot divine, theypass me by unnoticed. Concealment is utter folly on my part, for thepeople will not see. It was but just now that I passed directly beforethe eyes of the mate--it was no long while ago that I ventured into thecaptain's own private cabin, and took thence the materials with whichI write, and have written. I shall from time to time continue thisJournal. It is true that I may not find an opportunity of transmittingit to the world, but I will not fall to make the endeavour. At the lastmoment I will enclose the MS. In a bottle, and cast it within the sea. 

* * * * *

An incident has occurred which has given me new room for meditation. Aresuch things the operation of ungoverned Chance? I had ventured upon deckand thrown myself down, without attracting any notice, among a pile ofratlin-stuff and old sails in the bottom of the yawl. While musing uponthe singularity of my fate, I unwittingly daubed with a tar-brush theedges of a neatly-folded studding-sail which lay near me on a barrel. The studding-sail is now bent upon the ship, and the thoughtless touchesof the brush are spread out into the word DISCOVERY. 

I have made many observations lately upon the structure of the vessel. Although well armed, she is not, I think, a ship of war. Her rigging, build, and general equipment, all negative a supposition of thiskind. What she is not, I can easily perceive--what she is I fear it isimpossible to say. I know not how it is, but in scrutinizing her strangemodel and singular cast of spars, her huge size and overgrown suitsof canvas, her severely simple bow and antiquated stern, there willoccasionally flash across my mind a sensation of familiar things, andthere is always mixed up with such indistinct shadows of recollection, an unaccountable memory of old foreign chronicles and ages long ago. 

* * * * *

I have been looking at the timbers of the ship. She is built of amaterial to which I am a stranger. There is a peculiar character aboutthe wood which strikes me as rendering it unfit for the purpose towhich it has been applied. I mean its extreme porousness, consideredindependently by the worm-eaten condition which is a consequence ofnavigation in these seas, and apart from the rottenness attendant uponage. It will appear perhaps an observation somewhat over-curious, butthis wood would have every characteristic of Spanish oak, if Spanish oakwere distended by any unnatural means. 

In reading the above sentence a curious apothegm of an oldweather-beaten Dutch navigator comes full upon my recollection. "Itis as sure, " he was wont to say, when any doubt was entertained of hisveracity, "as sure as there is a sea where the ship itself will grow inbulk like the living body of the seaman. "

* * * * *

About an hour ago, I made bold to thrust myself among a group of thecrew. They paid me no manner of attention, and, although I stood in thevery midst of them all, seemed utterly unconscious of my presence. Likethe one I had at first seen in the hold, they all bore about them themarks of a hoary old age. Their knees trembled with infirmity; theirshoulders were bent double with decrepitude; their shrivelled skinsrattled in the wind; their voices were low, tremulous and broken; theireyes glistened with the rheum of years; and their gray hairs streamedterribly in the tempest. Around them, on every part of the deck, layscattered mathematical instruments of the most quaint and obsoleteconstruction. 

* * * * *

I mentioned some time ago the bending of a studding-sail. From thatperiod the ship, being thrown dead off the wind, has continued herterrific course due south, with every rag of canvas packed upon her, from her trucks to her lower studding-sail booms, and rolling everymoment her top-gallant yard-arms into the most appalling hell of waterwhich it can enter into the mind of a man to imagine. I have just leftthe deck, where I find it impossible to maintain a footing, although thecrew seem to experience little inconvenience. It appears to me a miracleof miracles that our enormous bulk is not swallowed up at once andforever. We are surely doomed to hover continually upon the brink ofEternity, without taking a final plunge into the abyss. From billows athousand times more stupendous than any I have ever seen, we glide awaywith the facility of the arrowy sea-gull; and the colossal waters reartheir heads above us like demons of the deep, but like demons confinedto simple threats and forbidden to destroy. I am led to attribute thesefrequent escapes to the only natural cause which can account for sucheffect. --I must suppose the ship to be within the influence of somestrong current, or impetuous under-tow. 

* * * * *

I have seen the captain face to face, and in his own cabin--but, as Iexpected, he paid me no attention. Although in his appearance there is, to a casual observer, nothing which might bespeak him more or less thanman-still a feeling of irrepressible reverence and awe mingled with thesensation of wonder with which I regarded him. In stature he is nearlymy own height; that is, about five feet eight inches. He is of awell-knit and compact frame of body, neither robust nor remarkablyotherwise. But it is the singularity of the expression which reigns uponthe face--it is the intense, the wonderful, the thrilling evidence ofold age, so utter, so extreme, which excites within my spirit a sense--asentiment ineffable. His forehead, although little wrinkled, seems tobear upon it the stamp of a myriad of years. --His gray hairs are recordsof the past, and his grayer eyes are Sybils of the future. The cabinfloor was thickly strewn with strange, iron-clasped folios, andmouldering instruments of science, and obsolete long-forgotten charts. His head was bowed down upon his hands, and he pored, with a fieryunquiet eye, over a paper which I took to be a commission, and which, atall events, bore the signature of a monarch. He muttered to himself, asdid the first seaman whom I saw in the hold, some low peevish syllablesof a foreign tongue, and although the speaker was close at my elbow, hisvoice seemed to reach my ears from the distance of a mile. 

* * * * *

The ship and all in it are imbued with the spirit of Eld. The crew glideto and fro like the ghosts of buried centuries; their eyes have an eagerand uneasy meaning; and when their fingers fall athwart my path in thewild glare of the battle-lanterns, I feel as I have never felt before, although I have been all my life a dealer in antiquities, and haveimbibed the shadows of fallen columns at Balbec, and Tadmor, andPersepolis, until my very soul has become a ruin. 

* * * * *

When I look around me I feel ashamed of my former apprehensions. If Itrembled at the blast which has hitherto attended us, shall I not standaghast at a warring of wind and ocean, to convey any idea of whichthe words tornado and simoom are trivial and ineffective? All in theimmediate vicinity of the ship is the blackness of eternal night, and achaos of foamless water; but, about a league on either side of us, maybe seen, indistinctly and at intervals, stupendous ramparts of ice, towering away into the desolate sky, and looking like the walls of theuniverse. 

* * * * *

As I imagined, the ship proves to be in a current; if that appellationcan properly be given to a tide which, howling and shrieking by thewhite ice, thunders on to the southward with a velocity like theheadlong dashing of a cataract. 

* * * * *

To conceive the horror of my sensations is, I presume, utterlyimpossible; yet a curiosity to penetrate the mysteries of these awfulregions, predominates even over my despair, and will reconcile me to themost hideous aspect of death. It is evident that we are hurrying onwardsto some exciting knowledge--some never-to-be-imparted secret, whoseattainment is destruction. Perhaps this current leads us to the southernpole itself. It must be confessed that a supposition apparently so wildhas every probability in its favor. 

* * * * *

The crew pace the deck with unquiet and tremulous step; but there isupon their countenances an expression more of the eagerness of hope thanof the apathy of despair. 

In the meantime the wind is still in our poop, and, as we carry a crowdof canvas, the ship is at times lifted bodily from out the sea--Oh, horror upon horror! the ice opens suddenly to the right, and to theleft, and we are whirling dizzily, in immense concentric circles, roundand round the borders of a gigantic amphitheatre, the summit of whosewalls is lost in the darkness and the distance. But little time will beleft me to ponder upon my destiny--the circles rapidly grow small--weare plunging madly within the grasp of the whirlpool--and amid aroaring, and bellowing, and thundering of ocean and of tempest, the shipis quivering, oh God! and--going down. 

NOTE. --The "MS. Found in a Bottle, " was originally published in 1831, and it was not until many years afterwards that I became acquainted withthe maps of Mercator, in which the ocean is represented as rushing, byfour mouths, into the (northern) Polar Gulf, to be absorbed into thebowels of the earth; the Pole itself being represented by a black rock, towering to a prodigious height. 

THE OVAL PORTRAIT

THE chateau into which my valet had ventured to make forcible entrance, rather than permit me, in my desperately wounded condition, to pass anight in the open air, was one of those piles of commingled gloom andgrandeur which have so long frowned among the Appennines, not less infact than in the fancy of Mrs. Radcliffe. To all appearance it had beentemporarily and very lately abandoned. We established ourselves in oneof the smallest and least sumptuously furnished apartments. It lay in aremote turret of the building. Its decorations were rich, yet tatteredand antique. Its walls were hung with tapestry and bedecked withmanifold and multiform armorial trophies, together with an unusuallygreat number of very spirited modern paintings in frames of rich goldenarabesque. In these paintings, which depended from the walls not onlyin their main surfaces, but in very many nooks which the bizarrearchitecture of the chateau rendered necessary--in these paintings myincipient delirium, perhaps, had caused me to take deep interest; sothat I bade Pedro to close the heavy shutters of the room--since it wasalready night--to light the tongues of a tall candelabrum which stood bythe head of my bed--and to throw open far and wide the fringed curtainsof black velvet which enveloped the bed itself. I wished all this donethat I might resign myself, if not to sleep, at least alternately to thecontemplation of these pictures, and the perusal of a small volume whichhad been found upon the pillow, and which purported to criticise anddescribe them. 

Long--long I read--and devoutly, devotedly I gazed. Rapidly andgloriously the hours flew by and the deep midnight came. The position ofthe candelabrum displeased me, and outreaching my hand with difficulty, rather than disturb my slumbering valet, I placed it so as to throw itsrays more fully upon the book. 

But the action produced an effect altogether unanticipated. The rays ofthe numerous candles (for there were many) now fell within a niche ofthe room which had hitherto been thrown into deep shade by one of thebed-posts. I thus saw in vivid light a picture all unnoticed before. Itwas the portrait of a young girl just ripening into womanhood. I glancedat the painting hurriedly, and then closed my eyes. Why I did thiswas not at first apparent even to my own perception. But while my lidsremained thus shut, I ran over in my mind my reason for so shuttingthem. It was an impulsive movement to gain time for thought--to makesure that my vision had not deceived me--to calm and subdue my fancy fora more sober and more certain gaze. In a very few moments I again lookedfixedly at the painting. 

That I now saw aright I could not and would not doubt; for the firstflashing of the candles upon that canvas had seemed to dissipate thedreamy stupor which was stealing over my senses, and to startle me atonce into waking life. 

The portrait, I have already said, was that of a young girl. It was amere head and shoulders, done in what is technically termed a vignettemanner; much in the style of the favorite heads of Sully. The arms, thebosom, and even the ends of the radiant hair melted imperceptibly intothe vague yet deep shadow which formed the back-ground of the whole. Theframe was oval, richly gilded and filigreed in Moresque. As a thing ofart nothing could be more admirable than the painting itself. But itcould have been neither the execution of the work, nor the immortalbeauty of the countenance, which had so suddenly and so vehemently movedme. Least of all, could it have been that my fancy, shaken from its halfslumber, had mistaken the head for that of a living person. I saw atonce that the peculiarities of the design, of the vignetting, and of theframe, must have instantly dispelled such idea--must have prevented evenits momentary entertainment. Thinking earnestly upon these points, Iremained, for an hour perhaps, half sitting, half reclining, with myvision riveted upon the portrait. At length, satisfied with the truesecret of its effect, I fell back within the bed. I had found the spellof the picture in an absolute life-likeliness of expression, which, atfirst startling, finally confounded, subdued, and appalled me. With deepand reverent awe I replaced the candelabrum in its former position. Thecause of my deep agitation being thus shut from view, I sought eagerlythe volume which discussed the paintings and their histories. Turningto the number which designated the oval portrait, I there read the vagueand quaint words which follow:

"She was a maiden of rarest beauty, and not more lovely than full ofglee. And evil was the hour when she saw, and loved, and wedded thepainter. He, passionate, studious, austere, and having already a bridein his Art; she a maiden of rarest beauty, and not more lovely than fullof glee; all light and smiles, and frolicsome as the young fawn; lovingand cherishing all things; hating only the Art which was her rival;dreading only the pallet and brushes and other untoward instrumentswhich deprived her of the countenance of her lover. It was thus aterrible thing for this lady to hear the painter speak of his desire toportray even his young bride. But she was humble and obedient, and satmeekly for many weeks in the dark, high turret-chamber where the lightdripped upon the pale canvas only from overhead. But he, the painter, took glory in his work, which went on from hour to hour, and from day today. And he was a passionate, and wild, and moody man, who became lostin reveries; so that he would not see that the light which fell soghastly in that lone turret withered the health and the spirits of hisbride, who pined visibly to all but him. Yet she smiled on and still on, uncomplainingly, because she saw that the painter (who had high renown)took a fervid and burning pleasure in his task, and wrought day andnight to depict her who so loved him, yet who grew daily more dispiritedand weak. And in sooth some who beheld the portrait spoke of itsresemblance in low words, as of a mighty marvel, and a proof not less ofthe power of the painter than of his deep love for her whom he depictedso surpassingly well. But at length, as the labor drew nearer to itsconclusion, there were admitted none into the turret; for the painterhad grown wild with the ardor of his work, and turned his eyes fromcanvas merely, even to regard the countenance of his wife. And he wouldnot see that the tints which he spread upon the canvas were drawn fromthe cheeks of her who sate beside him. And when many weeks bad passed, and but little remained to do, save one brush upon the mouth and onetint upon the eye, the spirit of the lady again flickered up as theflame within the socket of the lamp. And then the brush was given, and then the tint was placed; and, for one moment, the painter stoodentranced before the work which he had wrought; but in the next, whilehe yet gazed, he grew tremulous and very pallid, and aghast, and cryingwith a loud voice, 'This is indeed Life itself!' turned suddenly toregard his beloved:--She was dead!"