If There Be A Gratification In This World
Which Has No Alloy, It Is That Of Going To An Assured Welcome.
The
belief that arms and hearts are open to receive one - and the arms
and hearts of women, too,
As far as they allow themselves to open
them - is the salt of the earth, the sole remedy against sea-
sickness, the only cure for the tedium of railways, the one
preservative amid all the miseries and fatigue of travail. These
matters are private, and should hardly be told of in a book; but in
writing of the States, I should not do justice to my own convictions
of the country if I did not say how pleasantly social intercourse
there will ripen into friendship, and how full of love that
friendship may become. I became enamored of Boston at last. Beacon
Street was very pleasant to me, and the view over Boston Common was
dear to my eyes. Even the State House, with its great yellow-
painted dome, became sightly, and the sunset over the western waters
that encompass the city beats all other sunsets that I have seen.
During my last week there the world of Boston was moving itself on
sleighs. There was not a wheel to be seen in the town. The
omnibuses and public carriages had been dismounted from their axles
and put themselves upon snow-runners, and the private world had
taken out its winter carriages, and wrapped itself up in buffalo
robes. Men now spoke of the coming thaw as of a misfortune which
must come, but which a kind Providence might perhaps postpone - as we
all, in short, speak of death. In the morning the snow would have
been hardened by the night's frost, and men would look happy and
contented. By an hour after noon the streets would be all wet and
the ground would be slushy, and men would look gloomy and speak of
speedy dissolution. There were those who would always prophesy that
the next day would see the snow converted into one dull, dingy
river. Such I regarded as seers of tribulation, and endeavored with
all my mind to disbelieve their interpretations of the signs. That
sleighing was excellent fun. For myself I must own that I hardly
saw the best of it at Boston, for the coming of the end was already
at hand when I arrived there, and the fresh beauty of the hard snow
was gone. Moreover, when I essayed to show my prowess with a pair
of horses on the established course for such equipage, the beasts
ran away, knowing that I was not practiced in the use of snow
chariots, and brought me to grief and shame. There was a lady with
me in the sleigh, whom, for awhile, I felt that I was doomed to
consign to a snowy grave - whom I would willingly have overturned
into a drift of snow, so as to avoid worse consequences, had I only
known how to do so. But Providence, even though without curbs and
assisted only by simple snaffles, did at last prevail, and I brought
the sleigh horses, and lady alive back to Boston, whether with or
without permanent injury I have never yet ascertained.
At last the day of tribulation came, and the snow was picked up and
carted out of Boston. Gangs of men, standing shoulder to shoulder,
were at work along the chief streets, picking, shoveling, and
disposing of the dirty blocks. Even then the snow seemed to be
nearly a foot thick; but it was dirty, rough, half melted in some
places, though hard as stone in others. The labor and cost of
cleansing the city in this way must be very great. The people were
at it as I left, and I felt that the day of tribulation had in truth
come.
Farewell to thee, thou Western Athens! When I have forgotten thee,
my right hand shall have forgotten its cunning, and my heart
forgotten its pulses. Let us look at the list of names with which
Boston has honored itself in our days, and then ask what other town
of the same size has done more. Prescott, Bancroft, Motley,
Longfellow, Lowell, Emerson, Dana, Agassiz, Holmes, Hawthorne! Who
is there among us in England who has not been the better for these
men? Who does not owe to some of them a debt of gratitude? In
whose ears is not their names familiar? It is a bright galaxy, and
far extended, for so small a city. What city has done better than
this? All these men, save one, are now alive and in the full
possession of their powers. What other town of the same size has
done as well in the same short space of time? It may be that this
is the Augustan era of Boston - its Elizabethan time. If so, I am
thankful that my steps have wandered thither at such a period.
While I was at Boston I had the sad privilege of attending the
funeral of President Felton, the head of Harvard College. A few
months before I had seen him a strong man, apparently in perfect
health and in the pride of life. When I reached Boston I heard of
his death. He also was an accomplished scholar, and as a Grecian
has left few behind him who were his equals. At his installation as
president, four ex-presidents of Harvard College assisted. Whether
they were all present at his funeral I do not know, but I do know
that they were all still living. These are Mr. Quincy, who is now
over ninety; Mr. Sparks; Mr. Everett, the well-known orator; and Mr.
Walker. They all reside in Boston or its neighborhood, and will
probably all assist at the installation of another president.
CHAPTER IX.
THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES.
It is, I presume, universally known that the citizens of the Western
American colonies of Great Britain which revolted, declared
themselves to be free from British dominion by an act which they
called the Declaration of Independence.
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