The Birth of the Short Story

The Juniper Tree

2010-05-12T11:52:00.000-07:00

Nora Mitnick
with Creative Partnership by Bryan Prywes

From Craft to Craft:
A three-dimensional adaptation of Grimm’s fairy tales

Background
The German brothers Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm began collecting fairy tales in the early nineteenth century. The tales were primarily collected from middle-class women who heard the tales from their lower-class nursemaids, governesses, etc. Originally embarked upon as a scholarly project, the brothers only later reincarnated the tales for children, with their scholarly notes printed separately. The children’s versions of the tales eliminated offensive erotic and sexual elements as well as specific male and female role models emphasized in the originals, added cute diminutives, and modified the tales to fit the role of the education manual so that they could be incorporated into school curricula. The tales became German bestsellers second only to the Bible.
The story of “The Juniper Tree” (“Von dem Machandelboom”), the particular tale which we have chosen to adapt, can originally be found in the first volume of the Grimm brothers’ Children’s and Household Tales (Kinder- und Hausmärchen), published in 1812.

Adaptive Decisions
We had difficulty assigning a single genre to the Grimm’s fairy tales. On the surface as “fairy tales,” they tread a line between fable and folklore. Their simplistic diction lends itself well to the fable genre, as the tales are meant to be enjoyed by children, and quite oftentimes, the characters learn a moral lesson in the end. Although they do not have a specific cultural setting, which is a defining feature of folklore, the tales also resemble this genre, in the fact that they are easily and frequently passed down from generation to generation and also amongst peers, often orally. However, upon further analysis of content, the tales strongly demonstrate an element of the gothic style more often associated with Poe. The imagery is often gory and violent, which seems to be incohesive with the much milder fable and folklore genres.
We chose to adapt tale of “The Juniper Tree” because it not only had an extremely intriguing plot, but it also contained many aspects of the Grimm’s fairy tales characteristic genre collage, with its simplistic and repetitive language, yet tantalizingly gory imagery. However, we wanted to take our interpretation of “The Juniper Tree” in the direction that Grimm’s fairy tales have evolved to modern day. Adaptations of many of the tales have withheld the test of time, but have been reincarnated into significantly more happy and light versions of their earlier counterparts, a la Disney or Into the Woods, for example. Our particular adaptation takes the form of a three-dimensional video storyboard with dialogue, maintaining the overall plot of the original tale, as well as some of the original text, but adapting the visuals and the script through silly clay figures and colloquial language to better adhere to the more light-hearted pattern of modern day interpretations of the original fairy tales.

The Creative Process
The key to creating our adaptation of “The Juniper Tree” was editing. Originally, we had simply transcribed the story’s text into dialogue and narration, but this idea did not seem to portray “The Juniper Tree” as we had envisioned it as an adapted piece. It seemed too true to the original tale, and while we wanted to maintain some aspects of the original story, we essentially wanted to make it entirely our own. We then decided to eliminate the majority of the original text, maintaining the only original text we found to be crucial to the overall tale, the bird’s song: “My mother, she killed me. / My father, he ate me. / My sister, Marlene, she made sure to see / my bones were all gather together, / bound nicely in silk, as neat as can be, / and laid beneath the juniper tree. / Tweet, tweet! What a lovely bird I am!” We also modified repetitive scenes, such as the exchange between the bird and the workers, originally with the bird singing, the worker asking to hear the song again, the bird refusing without reward, and then the worker finally bestowing a gift for the song, to a single line of speech, but strived to maintain the memorable, resonating concept of repetition by using the same line of speech to replace each instant of this modified scene: “Well aren’t you just the sweetest bird I’ve ever seen? Here. Have (gift) in return for your beautiful music.” In the same vane, we included a simple, yet catchy melody for the bird’s song. In these regards, we maintained aspects of the original tales and genres by preserving some of the original text, most of the original plot, the simplicity in language, and the appealing repetition, yet still managed to modify the story to become a new and originally crafted piece. I also wanted to maintain original aspects of the tale through the clay created characters, so I attempted to make the boy “as red as blood and as white as snow,” and the bird with “bright red and green feathers, and his neck appeared to glisten like pure gold.”
We also wanted to convey simplicity in the visualization, so we decided to limit the visualization to single images rather than moving shots. Therefore, we then analyzed the story and selected a small compilation of scenes through which we felt the figures we had created could aptly represent the story as a whole. We crafted each moment into a single pose and photographed a still frame of each scene. Our final scene selection, with characters and props, is as follows:

Scenes
* Mother under the tree praying – (mother, juniper tree)
* Father crying – (father with teardrop)
* Father proposing to stepmother – (father, stepmother, ring)
* Stepmother resenting boy – (stepmother, Marlene)
* Boy asking for apple – (boy, stepmother)
* Boy and stepmother with chest – (boy, stepmother, apple, chest)
* Stepmother slamming boy’s head in chest – (boy sans head, stepmother, chest, apple)
* Stepmother tying up boy’s head and positioning with apple – (stepmother, boy, apple, kerchief)
* Marlene asking stepmother for apple – (Marlene, stepmother, boy, kerchief, apple)
* Marlene asking brother for apple – (Marlene, boy, kerchief, apple)
* Marlene knocking off brother’s head – (Marlene, boy sans head, kerchief, apple)
* Stepmother and Marlene with the body – (Marlene, stepmother, boy sans head, kerchief, apple)
* Stepmother cooking boy into a stew – (stepmother, pot, spoon, boy’s head)
* Father eating stew – (father, chest, pot, boy’s head, stepmother, spoon, Marlene)
* Marlene putting bones under juniper tree – (Marlene, bones, juniper tree)
* Bird emerging from juniper tree – (Marlene, bones, juniper tree, bird)
* Goldsmith with gold chain – (goldsmith, gold chain, bird)
* Bird flying with gold chain – (bird, gold chain)
* Shoemaker with red shoes – (shoemaker, red shoes, bird, gold chain)
* Bird flying with gold chain and red shoes – (bird, gold chain, red shoes)
* Miller with millstone – (miller, millstone, bird, gold chain, red shoes)
* Bird flying with gold chain, red shoes, and millstone – (bird, gold chain, red shoes, millstone)
* Father looking up with gold chain – (father, gold chain, juniper tree)
* Marlene looking up with red shoes – (father, gold chain, Marlene, red shoes, juniper tree)
* Stepmother looking up – (father, gold chain, Marlene, red shoes, stepmother, juniper tree)
* Stepmother crushed by millstone with boy standing on top – (father, gold chain, Marlene, red shoes, stepmother, millstone, boy, juniper tree)
* Family walking back inside to eat stew – (father, gold chain, Marlene, red shoes, stepmother, millstone, boy, juniper tree)

We decided to focus on scenes that portrayed either strong character emotions or significant aspects of the story’s plot.
The final step in the creative process was compiling the audio and visual components together and inserting supplementary audio and visual effects for additional joviality and audience understanding. The final project was a three-dimensional video storyboard with dialogue that we hope was able to maintain aspects of the original Grimm’s fairy tale, “The Juniper Tree” while also adapting to the light-hearted representations of children’s tales of the modern day. We hope you enjoy our work!

Credits

Clay creations
Nora Mitnick

Back-drop
Bryan Prywes

Photography
Bryan Prywes

Photography assistance
Nora Mitnick

Script
Bryan Prywes

Audio
Nora Mitnick and Bryan Prywes

Film editing
Nora Mitnick and Bryan Prywes
with Special Thanks to Michael Stay

The Tell Tale Heart

2010-05-10T11:06:00.000-07:00

by Zach Rosen

Tempo: 28-66, 66, 66-132, 66, 54, 72

Time Signature: 4/4, 6/8, 2/4, 4/4

Key choice: D flat major

Key description: “A leering key, degenerating into grief and rapture. It cannot laugh, but it can smile; it cannot howl, but it can at least grimace its crying.--Consequently only unusual characters and feelings can be brought out in this key.”

-Christian Schubart's Ideen zu einer Aesthetik der Tonkunst (1806)

Foreword:

This composition is not intended to convince the listener that the narrator is sane. Rather, the goal is to give the listener a glimpse into the mind of insanity. During the story there are many references to sound and time, two things that the reader cannot experience on the same level as the actual narrator. How, then, is it possible for the narrator to fully convey his experience, the thrust of the entire story? This composition fills in those gaps. Motifs that represent various aspects of the tale can be heard and digested in a more coherent manner than they can be through a page. By translating pieces of the story into sound and experiencing both the text and song simultaneously, another dimension of the story is unlocked and the reader/listener can more readily empathize with the narrator. This is important, as The Tell Tale Heart is in itself the narrator's attempt to convey his own experience.

19 Sections:

(0:00-0:09): Presumption of Sanity

Harp

This first, small part represents the assumption that the narrator is sane in the majority of the works that we read. The harp itself represents the sanity of the narrator, which quickens and becomes lost in the argument of defiance that precedes the story. However, it is customary in literature to trust the narrator until there exists proof that contradicts his claims. These opening 16 notes signify that trust, which quickly slips away when the narrator immediately calls his own sanity into question.

The beat quickens and eventually disappears in the din of the brass and strings.

(0:10-0:26): Defiant Introduction

“...why WILL you say that I am mad?... Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.”

All range strings, trumpet, French horn, tuba, harp, flute

Although the harp is still trying to play in the background, this section mutes it and makes the actual notes indistinct. By calling his own sanity into question and having to defend it, he places doubt in the minds of the readers. In effect, his defiance and almost desperate need to prove himself mentally sound actually weakens his defense. This is reinforced by the tendency that those actually insane never view themselves as insane, thus this section is important in its urgency and intended vehemence. As well, there are five measures in the introduction instead of the even four to hint at a slight imbalance and to unsettle the listener.

(0:27-0:47): Nervousness, the beginning of the story

“TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am”

Low strings, mid strings, mid pizzicato, high pizzicato

The low strings are to establish the dark undertone of the story. The pizzicato shifts in and out of consonance, but has a definite rhythm that drives the story forward. Although the character's nervousness is a symptom of another mental condition, the constant stream of singular notes hint at more to come.

(0:48-0:59): The Vulture Eye, introduced

“It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but, once conceived, it haunted me day and night... I think it was his eye! Yes, it was this! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture -- a pale blue eye with a film over it”

Pizzicato and glockenspiel

The vulture eye is an integral part of the story and needed to have its own theme that ran concurrently with everything else that was happening in the tale. The eye exists in various forms through The Tell Tale Heart, and though its abhorrence is an is both a cause and result of the narrator's actions. There is a distinction here, however, in that the higher-pitched glockenspiel (which is only slightly higher) represents the actual eye, neither good nor bad. The other glockenspiel (lower) represents the narrator's feelings towards the eye. While these two instruments are separate, they are very hard to tell apart. The character's nervousness runs through this depiction of the eye, and the strings cease when the two meet each other. This not only negatively contrasts the dark feeling of what is about to happen, but also more emphasizes the meeting of the two.

(1:00-2:15): Obsession and Decision

“Whenever it fell upon me my blood ran cold, and so by degrees, very gradually, I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye for ever.”

Pizzicato, glockenspiel, low strings, flute, trumpet, French horn

This section enters after the vulture eye has been introduced, and represents the narrator's thought process. This is an excellent example of how time differs between experience and retelling. The narrator writes that he “gradually” and “by degrees... made up [his] mind to take the life of the old man.” However, all this receives is one sentence, hardly worth the actual psychological depth it deserves. In order to understand the narrator, it is imperative to see this thought process, which has been extended from one sentence to a 75-second section. One possible explanation for the existence of such a short sentence is that the narrator assumes that this motivation is entirely logical to the reader. However, because this is not the case, it is important to see the actual gradation of irritancy that drives one man to kill another. The strings, symbols of the character's, emotions, move quickly, but disparately. They quickly increase in frequency and other parts are introduced to give the character's emotions legitimacy. This legitimacy breeds into decision.

(2:16-2:34): Seven Nights of Watchful Peace

“You should have seen how wisely I proceeded -- with what caution -- with what foresight, with what dissimulation, I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him... for seven long nights, every night just at midnight”

Mid strings, High strings, glockenspiel, tubular bells

The narrator admits that he went to watch the old man sleep every night at 12 o'clock and that during this week he was never nicer to him. This sentiment is reflected in this section; the bells chime twelve times during the length of the entire eight-night-section. The strings play for seven measures and aren't joyful, but are nonetheless calm and patient. Each measure, which represents a night, the lower glockenspiel chimes in the form of a question, seeing if the eye is awake.

(2:34-2:48): The Eighth Night

“Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door... Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers, of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph.”

Full range strings, trombone, tuba, French horn, trumpet, harp, glockenspiel, tubular bell

As soon as the measure hits eight, the brass and deep strings are introduced. These horns and strings represent the narrator's emotional state, which are very passionate when he finds that the old man is still awake. There is a great deal of expectation and dark, almost twisted triumph in the notes. He is proud at having come upon the man in his sleep and is very excited to perform the deed. However, this excitement is sharply contrasted with the next sections, which, contrary to expectation, consists mainly of waiting.

(2:48-3:10): The Waiting Game Begins, Cat and Mouse

“To think that there I was opening the door little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea, and perhaps he heard me, for he moved on the bed suddenly as if startled... crying out, "Who's there?"”

Full range strings, pizzicato strings, glockenspiel, male voice

The narrator is reveling in his own power and triumph and consequently gives his presence away. There is a building of anticipation and a dark, subdued celebration in the strings, his emotions, before they are interrupted by the old man's cry. As it is pitch black, the old man can't see the narrator, so this call garners no response. Ever present are the pizzicato strings, which sound like the ticking of a clock. The narrator is nervous at this point, but is so caught up in the moment and in time that his existence becomes his ability to wait and pass the time.

(3:11-3:36): The Waiting Game Part II, The Hour

“I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed, listening; just as I have done night after night hearkening to the death watches in the wall.”

Low strings, pizzicato strings, glockenspiel

The low strings add to the suspense and mood of this scene, the pizzicato strings, as stated before, detail the nervousness of the narrator, but also the nearly clock-like way in which he presents himself, and the glockenspiel represents the vulture eye, and the narrator's feelings towards the eye. Because this is the moment that the character is waiting for, and because the eye is awake, the glockenspiel is the only instrument in this section with any movement.

This is another situation in which time is considered differently from in the tale. In response to the old man's question, the character stays entirely silent for an hour. Time is often mentioned explicitly in the story, and because the story cannot take the time to detail out an entire hour, or even make the length of time seem realistic to the listener, it becomes a negligible description. However, the time is very important. It contrasts the excitement and adds to the sense of suspense; it adds to the sense of mystery and to the characterization of the narrator. Extending the time of an hour out and making it seem longer than a mere description means that the time that the narrator experience is properly conveyed. The narrator experienced the hour, the reader did not. Both need to experience the time the same way to feel the full effect.

10.

(3:37-3:56): Empathy and Awe

“Presently, I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief -- oh, no! It was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him although I chuckled at heart.”

Low strings, mid strings, male voices, trombone, tuba

This part is particularly powerful in that the character shows empathy toward the old man, but in a way that commiserates with his impending doom and the impending doom of us all, rather than in any munificent way. Just as the old man's groan, the male voices, begins, the deep and powerful brass, overcharged with awe, play their own tune in response and in a type of understanding to the man's. This part completely renders the juxtaposition of an old man, frail, scared of death and the powerful passions of death that obsess the narrator. The most telling part is, however, that instead of trying to understand the man's terror, they merely complement and give it meaning in the order of life. The human side, the conscientious side of the narrator pities the old man, but the other, more primitive side views a fear of death as foolish, unnecessary and ultimately powerless.

11.

(3:57-4:39): The Opening of the Lantern

“When I had waited a long time very patiently without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little -- a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it -- you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily...”

Low strings, mid strings

This part is very slow and deliberate in order to mirror the action in the story. This is another example of different treatment of time; the tale gives us a description of how stealthily he opened the ray covering the lantern, and how slowly, but the description does not do the act justice. In the song, the listener is forced to hear the monotony, the slow change and how, as more light enters the room, the tension builds over time.

12.

(4:40-4:53): The Light Strikes the Eye

“...until at length a single dim ray like the thread of the spider shot out from the crevice and fell upon the vulture eye.

Full range strings, glockenspiel

This section is the second part of the previous, and the result of the deliberate action. As the narrator opens the lantern more and more, the light finally falls on the vulture eye. This is apprehension contrasts the built excitement of knowing that the old man was awake. Knowing that he would kill the man and the excitement that conveys is entirely different from having the narrator actually see the eye. The strings represent the moment of apprehension, before comprehension takes over. As soon as the light falls on the eye, the focus of all of his fear and hatred, there is a response of at last, a moment of clarity where everything done this night is seen to be done for a purpose. The viewing of the eye represents a justification for past actions and a sense of reality supersedes that of excitement and idealism.

13.

(4:54-6:00): Wrath, Fear and Murder

“It was open, wide, wide open, and I grew furious as I gazed upon it... here came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton....the old man's heart. It increased my fury as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage. The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once -- once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done.”

Full range strings, trombone, tuba, French horn, trumpet, pizzicato strings, glockenspiel, bass drum

This part was very complicated and difficult to do. I needed to best represent the narrator's rage and how the drum beat him into the act of murder by using all of the instruments or none of them, as the narrator himself remarked that the house was deathly quiet. In this part I chose to use the music to represent the character's emotions, the fury that the eye made him feel. The music is not an external device, but an internal one, and while external sounds are reproduced in it, like the man's yell and the heart beat, the majority of the action takes place in the narrator's mind and feelings. Therefore, in order to be true to the music's prerogative of relaying another dimension of the narrator's story, there must be sound to emphasize and relate the narrator's anger, since the reader hears nothing while reading the book and cannot hear the narrator's fury. Alternatively, it does not render another dimension for the reader to hear nothing during the story and very little in the music.

The eye, which begins this section, incites rage in the narrator, which steadily grows as the moment passes and as he hears the low drumbeat rise and grow faster. All of the narrator's emotions are at play in this moment, and he is caught between a desire to kill the old man and his own terror and nervousness. This contradiction is a result of the moment seeming real and immediate, which itself is a consequence of viewing the vulture eye with the light. However, the fury of the music and the heartbeat and his own desire finally pushes him over the edge, and he kills the old man.

14.

(6:01-6:32): Death

“But for many minutes the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead.”

Harp, tubular bells, male voice, bass drum

Even after the murder, the old man is not quite dead. There is a brief, awkward moment where the heart is heard through the bed and the old man's life is leaving him. It is also at this point that the narrator crosses a threshold from which he cannot return. The harp, representative of his sanity, plays its own elegy and departs forever. The old man's shout never resolves and besides the slowly fading heart, the only other thing left to hear is the sound of time, moving at a constant pace. There is a slight pause after the action is done to allow everything to settle, and to allow for the scene to change.

15.

(6:33-6:55): Cleaning up

“I took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly so cunningly, that no human eye -- not even his -- could have detected anything wrong. There was nothing to wash out -- no stain of any kind -- no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that. When I had made an end of these labours, it was four o'clock -- still dark as midnight.”

Low strings, tubular bell

This next part represents the narrator hiding the body and cleaning up after his work. The mood is somber and slow, and the only other sound is the bell to strike the explicit hour of four o'clock. This hour is illustrated by the four strikes of the bell. As well, the man's labors are replicated in the song by two repeating notes and then one long chord, indicative of work and result. It is important to notice that the narrator knows that his action was wrong, and therefore knows the difference between wrong and right. However, another force made him go through with the slaying, which is the undeniable influence of his emotions and feelings.

16.

(6:56-8:00): The Three Policemen

“There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police....The officers were satisfied. My MANNER had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears; but still they sat, and still chatted.

Mid strings, high strings, pizzicato strings, tubular bell, bass drum

Almost immediately after the narrator hides the body, three policemen show up to respond to a shout. At first the narrator is very confident and has them come in and search the house. Even more, however, is that the narrator convinces the police that everything is fine by his manner, that is his demeanor and how he acted. This is represented in the initial use of major chords. However, this motif, which is the policemen-narrator interaction, persists until it becomes annoying and puts the narrator at disease. Even worse is a ringing that the narrator believes he hears in his ears which upsets him even more. In the background of all of these interactions are the narrator's pizzicato strings, chirping easily until the last interaction, which is when he notices something is wrong. Starting near the third interaction, also, is a very quiet bass drum that happens to reemerge.

17.

(8:01-8:35): Ringing in the ears

“The ringing became more distinct : I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definitiveness -- until, at length, I found that the noise was NOT within my ears. No doubt I now grew VERY pale; but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice.”

Full range strings, pizzicato strings, tubular bell, bass drum

The narrator starts to get very nervous at this point, which is evinced by a much more dynamic pizzicato arrangement. The ringing bells in the background are also a very constant murmur. The very disjointed strings that enter mirror the narrator's speech and how it has become higher and a little off. Even when he makes it higher and a little stronger, with the addition of more strings, he is unable to drown out the perceptible beating of the drum/heart in the background. At the very end of this section he breaks down and becomes fully mad.

18.

(8:36-9:15): The Final Descent into Madness

“I talked more quickly, more vehemently but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why WOULD they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men, but the noise steadily increased. O God! what COULD I do? I foamed -- I raved -- I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder -- louder -- louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly , and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! -- no, no? They heard! -- they suspected! -- they KNEW! -- they were making a mockery of my horror! -- this I thought, and this I think.”

Full range strings, trombone, tuba, French horn, trumpet, pizzicato strings, tubular bell, bass drum

The narrator finally snaps and grows very concerned with what he is hearing. This in turn causes his emotions and actions to run the gamut of swinging around the chair he had been sitting on and grating it upon the boards. How to best represent this descent into full-flung lunacy is another version of the question of how to render the murder scene, and I decided it the same way. I wanted to capture the experience of the character and his emotions, not necessarily what others who were witness to the scene might have heard. The rage and fury of madness are embodied into sounds; the pizzicato strings are playing very quickly and his nervousness is reaching its peak. An even more interesting point to consider in this scenario is that he believes that the police can hear the sound too and know that he is the murder, that they were making a mockery of his fear. This is represented in the song in the last verse of this section, when the trombone and French horn have their own verse amidst the held notes of the other instruments. This verse is effectively saying to the policemen, “I know that you know.”

19.

(9:16-9:30): The End

“...Anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! -- and now -- again -- hark! louder! louder! louder! LOUDER! -- "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! -- tear up the planks! -- here, here! -- it is the beating of his hideous heart!"”

Flute, full range strings, trombone, tuba, French horn, trumpet, pizzicato strings, tubular bell, bass drum

It is critically important to notice that the narrator does not give himself up because of the heart, or even because he wants the sound to stop. Instead, it is the sound that pushes him to a point where he misconstrues and misunderstands the situation; it is this situation, that he believes the police are deriding his deed and hypocritically feigning ignorance that makes him admit the deed. The only solution to make the police officers stop pretending that they don't know is to tell them, which he subsequently does. The same instruments that told the police officers “I know that you know,” the trombone and the French horn, return and admit the deed. There is a general hush and they play, seemingly saying “I did the deed!” to which the response, by all of the other instruments, is one of shock. There is another silence where the narrator points to the planks to tear up and in so doing, loses every piece of leverage that he has. After this admission is is wholly in control of the police and utterly powerless and defeated. The end comes very swiftly after this confession, echoing the abrupt ending in the story. As soon as he admits responsibility, his story is over and it is left for the reader to judge his sanity.

Endicott and the Red Cross: From Tale to Trailer

2008-06-03T06:09:00.000-07:00

by Heather Lefebvre

The adaptation of “Endicott and the Red Cross” from original Hawthorne sketch to jukebox musical is admittedly a bizarre idea. I know. When I first came up with it I’d already had the idea for a different “Endicott” trailer, for a psychological miniseries to “air” on A&E. (I even had the ending planned: an acquaintance walks into the room, addresses Endicott as “John” and Endicott barks, “No.... It’s Commander Endicott now.” A close-up of the acquaintance looking fearful, and cue title.) The miniseries, I decided, would be dark and serious and slightly anachronistic. But I couldn’t come up with any other scenes for the trailer, and one day when I was listening to Abbey Road, the musical idea just came to me. Weird, yes. Unlikely, yes. But Moulin Rouge had taken history and twisted it into a jukebox musical in 2001. Theoretically it could be done. And either way, it would be interesting.

“Endicott and the Red Cross” is a short story written by Nathaniel Hawthorne. It was published in 1837, in his story collection Twice-Told Tales, and is today one of his lesser-known works. The plot involves the esteemed governor of a Puritan town, John Endicott, and his decision to revolt against England. In this respect, the A&E miniseries idea would have made more sense; a serious psychological drama would have shown the progression from Respectable Man to Obsessed Revolutionary in a more academic, scholarly way than the modern musical. But then again, rock and roll has long been associated with rebellion (see: the Beatles song “Revolution,” the countercultural rock star lifestyle), and Hawthorne’s story is about just that. “Endicott and the Red Cross” focuses on, and leads up to, one solitary event: Endicott’s “rending of the Red Cross from New England’s banner,” symbolically rending New England’s relationship with old England. Like a rock star trashing his hotel room, thus ruining any chance he may have had to stay at that hotel in the future, by slashing the flag Endicott destroys any chance the Puritans have of returning to England. As the royalist in the nearby stocks declares, Endicott has committed treason. With that one gesture he cuts the town off, symbolically and literally, from the mother country. The Puritans are finally, definitively on their own, and – if Endicott has his way – the story implies that they will fight the English for the right to be on their own. “Beat a flourish, drummer!––shout, soldiers and people!––in honor of the ensign of New England. Neither Pope nor Tyrant hath part in it now!” he screams.

In an age when the moral tale had begun to recede in popularity, in favor of the sketch, Hawthorne wrote moral tales that turned the genre on its head: sure, his short stories have clear morals, and they are certainly full of allegorical symbols, but rather than the follow-societal-norms moral of earlier literature (like that in Maria Edgeworth’s “The Grateful Negro,” or the epimythium of Eliza Haywood’s “Fantomina”), his stories end with a strong argument against society and authority. Among Hawthorne’s short stories, this theme of individualism is strongest in “Endicott,” wherein the title character imposes cultural exile upon his people. The America of modern day, the story implies, was literally founded on such principles – a concept that seems perfectly plausible, looking at popular culture today. The overarching message of contemporary American media avows being true to oneself, regardless. Self-esteem at any price. Endicott, in that light, is a true, individualistically-driven American. Despite the Puritanical 1630s setting, a modern American audience could relate to his tale of oppression and self-made liberty. The moral of “Endicott” is the same as Frank Miller’s V for Vendetta or the recent Broadway musical Hairspray: when things are unjust, you fight back. You triumph, tyrannical authority regardless.

But “Endicott and the Red Cross” is not simply a moral advocating individualism; it is just as much a rural sketch. The year before Twice-Told Tales was published, Charles Dickens (under the pseudonym of “Boz”) published his “Sketches,” a collection of prose with ambiguously fictional qualities and very little plot. Dickens’s London-centric tales usually focused on solely one event – shopping for clothes in “Meditations in Monmouth Street,” for instance – and included an exorbitant amount of description so as to set their scene. They were also popular enough for Dickens to base his first novel, The Pickwick Papers, off some of these works. A year later Twice-Told Tales came out, including “Endicott” in its collection, and the parallels to the sketch form are obvious. Hawthorne’s six-page story opens with about three pages of pure description: “Their leader, the famous Endicott, was a man of stern and resolute countenance, the effect of which was heightened by a grizzled beard that swept the upper portion of his breastplate. This piece of armour was so highly polished, that the whole surrounding scene had its image in the glittering steel.” The prose then goes on to detail the appearance of the town prayer-house, the whipping post, the pillory and stocks, and the Puritans themselves – haggard citizens, some of them missing chunks of ear or branded with iron. Clearly, there is a Dickensian influence here. Hawthorne does not deny this, either, but rather embraces it: “There happened to be visible,” he writes, “at the same noontide hour, so many other characteristics of the times and manners of the Puritans, that we must endeavour to represent them in a sketch, though far less vividly than they were reflected in the polished breastplate of John Endicott” (Hawthorne 543). The inclusion of the word sketch in the text both acknowledges an influence of “Sketches by Boz” and the story’s highly visual nature – almost like a work of art, the written sketch’s drawn counterpart.

For as we have seen, “Endicott and the Red Cross” is extremely visual. Literally half the text is a solid description of setting, and much of the other half is dialogue. What else could one adapt “Endicott” to, other than film? When Hawthorne wrote his Twice-Told Tales, film didn’t exist as a medium; not even its still-life sibling, photography, existed in its modern form, but rather took the format of daguerreotype. It makes sense that the fiction writers of the 1830s would turn to detail in order to capture an image. Portraiture notwithstanding, there simply wasn’t any other way to capture the appearance of reality. But since the development of the film industry, as you know, times have changed: American culture has become an increasingly visual one. If one picture is worth a thousand words, as the proverb goes, then just think how much a continuously moving picture is worth – millions of dollars, in fact, as the national box-office numbers will attest. Film and video are perhaps the most visual, and thus solidly descriptive, media of all the arts. It is, if you will, the culmination of what the literary sketch tried to achieve in the mid-nineteenth century: a mirrored, if fictionalized, reflection of life.

The movie musical, with its clichéd images of crowds dancing in the streets, seems to rebut this assertion. And yet, the genre is able to serve up some of life’s harshest realities: Hairspray deals largely with racism and the civil rights movement, while Across the Universe portrays the violence of Vietnam – both in the actual war and in protest of it – amid some thirty-odd Beatles covers. Sweeney Todd deals with murder and obsession. Rebellion and controversy seem to be key elements of the contemporary movie musical, and “Endicott” – although starring a cast of Puritans and set in the 1630s – has both in spades.

In the final half of the story, after hearing that King Charles I wants to send over an English representative to govern them, Endicott gives a blistering diatribe against the monarch as a lead-in to slashing the flag. This works in Hawthorne’s original story due to the contrast of the sedate, descriptive narrative. In a modern film, however, some of Endicott’s dialogue (“[W]e have sacrificed all things, and have come to a land whereof the old world hath scarcely heard, that we might make a new world unto ourselves, and painfully seek a path from hence to Heaven”) would likely come off as loud, angry static. Ineffectual jabbering, to the modern viewer. But in putting his anger to music – specifically, a revamped but somewhat recognizable “Killer Queen,” rewritten as “Killer King” – Endicott’s state of mind is suddenly much more accessible. Music’s aurality has a way of evoking emotions in its listeners, and through the usage of song, Endicott’s fury at King Charles becomes relatable. He’s not just some stuffy religious theocrat of the seventeenth century, but an individual. He is an American. He is akin to you or I or the average viewer, just distanced by time.

Endicott and the Red Cross (trailer)

Slang: A More Modern Interpretation by Rebecca Blomberg

2008-05-04T18:15:00.000-07:00

After receiving the assignment to republish a short story written before 1860, my group and I searched the library rather blindly. We eventually read through some entries in Household Words, a weekly journal conducted by Charles Dickens. An article called “Slang” in which anonymous author George A. Sala laments the Victorian use of language struck all of our fancies. We planned to republish the article because we found it entertaining and adaptable. Especially considering the “republication” assignment, we really wanted to use a piece that we could make current in order to have an extra personal connection to the piece, rather than just reproducing a century and a half old story whose meaning may have been lost on us as 2008 students of English literature. “Slang” applied to each of our interests in literature and writing and allowed for us to produce a modern interpretation. After we selected our piece, we were told that because we were republishing an article rather than an actual short story, we would have to really emphasize the article’s significance to the short story genre.

Upon some deliberation on the subject, we ended up finding “Slang” particularly relevant to our study of short stories, since it provides insight into the inner workings of an author who might use a lot of slang in his writing. In the English 40B class, we read some works by James Hogg, who uses extreme Scottish dialects, which we all found foreign and difficult to understand. The “Slang” article, through a sarcastic criticism of the use of slang, ultimately helped me to appreciate the style in which Hogg wrote as authentic and culturally relevant, as well as necessary in order to tell his story. This applies to all short stories, through the modern day, which is why I was particularly interested in republishing “Slang” with a modernized twist. I wrote my own article, paralleling Sala’s “Slang,” which I feel really captured what I took away from the article. This project was particularly resonant with me and my overall experience in the “Birth of the Short Story” class because it helped me to place everything we read in a cultural context and to appreciate the value of words specific to that context.

As part of the process of republication, at first glance, the hard copy presentation of this assignment raised some interesting thoughts. We used a cover, hand drawn along with all of the illustrations by Gail Goldspiel, which replicated all of the information and the aesthetic presentation of Sala’s “Slang” in Household Words. While this caused some disagreement among the group, we eventually settled on adding “A New … Modernized” to the title “Household Words.” I felt the point of this first republication project was to republish the article in a completely new light and different context from the original. I failed to see at first how claiming our own publication to actually be Household Words and not adding anything unique to our take on “Slang” on the cover would achieve what we intended it to. We hoped the modernized context of the article would provide a new perspective from which to look at this piece.

In addition to the cover, the group decided to print all of our work in columns to also closely resemble the original “Slang” in Household Words.

Upon more discussion and consideration, I feel that the content of “Slang” itself lends the appearance of our first republication an ironic tone. The point of the article in summation is that the slang dialect particular to any one time and place is incomprehensible to anyone removed from that setting, and even sometimes that setting’s very own members. Ultimately, though, the article parodies itself because it is absurd to think that individuals or specific groups will not change the language they use with the times to better suite their current situations. Keeping the cover of the 2008 version of “Slang” the same as the 1853 version then becomes somewhat sarcastic due to the inevitability that a more modern and culturally specific medium or format would have become available in the interim. While the self satirical side effect of this cover lends itself to Sala’s attitude, I still didn't feel that it really captured the way I feel about this piece as a modern interpretation. This is the reason why I feel web publication was not only appropriate, but the next logical step in the progression of this piece.

As I point out in my preface to “Slang: A Modern Interpretation,” language is representative of time and place and will continue to evolve as long as society does. This point is the basis for the strong relationship between the article “Slang” (and its modern interpretation) and the medium in which it is published. The article makes such a strong point about advancement and modernity and, at the time of its original publication, found its home in “Household Words.” At this time, weekly journals containing these types of articles and stories functioned to entertain and inform the Victorian people. Therefore, it was fitting for “Slang” to be included in such a publication because the article provides commentary on both the readers and the other material contained in “Household Words.” In my preface to the modern version of “Slang,” I also use the examples of short stories from two different time periods and countries to show the cultural significance of the dialect. James Hogg’s 1820 Scottish readers of “An Old Soldier’s Tale” would have no problem connecting with his writing, but someone in 1994 California might find it completely unintelligible. Likewise, fans of Bret Easton Ellis have an understanding of the modern slang used in “At the Still Point,” but don’t recognize Hogg’s language as English. This speaks to the nature of the individual societies: where they are, what type of people live there, how developed they are, etc. In my reinterpretation of “Slang,” I delve into the current trend of blogging and the way language is manipulated in that community. I wrote:

While one may argue that only the illiterate and uneducated masses make common use of slang, it is in fact a new movement in the literary world in which an entirely unique dialect is currently developing. Among users of the “world wide web” or internet, “blogging” has become a popular medium for writing both fiction and non fiction. When bloggers produce fiction based on previously published works known as fan fiction, or “fanfic” as they call it, they communicate using a system of slang barely resembling the English language. “Fanfic can be either “slash” or “het,” meaning homo or heterosexual, depending on preferred “shipping,” meaning the relationship on which the writer focuses. The stories can contain “OTPs” (One True Pairs) or take place in an “AU” (Alternate Universe).

Similarly, Rachel Rosman, in her introduction to our project, wrote:

The great literature of our time is now available to the masses at the click of a button in the form of blogs, where the works of anyone can be published instantaneously. Blog based books, known as blooks, have been published and it’s possible that blooks writers such as Salam Pax, Ellen Simonetti, Jessica Cutler, and ScrappleFace will be the next great authors of our time. Because short stories featured in blogs are written by the average man to appeal to the average man, they naturally use the slang of popular culture.

It should only follow that “Slang” receives its well deserved place on the internet -- on a blog no less – considering the implications of this format. It adds another modern aspect to the edition, going hand in hand with the theme of technological advancement as well as the tongue in cheek humor of publishing in the context the article itself disapproves of due to the lack of clear language used in a blog.

I am pleased that this project will now be available beyond LATTE because I feel it has such a strong connection to modern American society. It is about the way people choose to communicate and the words they use to express themselves and how those things are now indicative of a society where the whole world can see my Brandeis University English 40B project. In a way, I feel this actually begins to break down the slang barriers with which Sala concerns himself, because my republication of “Slang” is accessible to anyone in the world with an internet connection.

Preface by Rachel Rosman

The following compilation is written as a current response to an article published in an 1853 edition of a periodical called Household Words conducted by Charles Dickens. The article, titled Slang by George Augustus Sala, is a criticism of our “word-sinning,” of the nonsensical misplaced synonyms of familiar terms that supposedly corrupt our language. But in this modern age, slang has become as justified in our literature as normal vocabulary. The most recent edition of Webster’s Dictionary has been published to include such pop culture terms as “d’oh” from The Simpsons and websites such as Urban Dictionary and Double-Tongued Dictionary are entirely devoted to contemporary slang. Our modern generation is often defined and united by our use of slang, and in an era where our great short stories are now posted on blogs rather than periodicals, slang has come to define our literature as well.

The short story has always pertained to a certain local culture and has naturally used the language of that region to gain popular appeal. During the Middle Ages, certain writers such as Chaucer, William Caxton, and William of Malmesbury represented the regional differences in pronunciations and dialects. The different dialects and the different pronunciations represented the first meaning for the term “slang.” In England slang was first thought to be used only by criminals and cheats because it developed primarily in saloons and gambling houses. However, slang slowly presented itself in popular plays, with Shakespeare being a widely known example. By the 1700’s the cultural differences in America had begun to influence the English-speaking population, and slang began to expand.

As expressed in Household Words, America was largely to blame for furthering these new terms. As our great literature was advanced by the tumultuous events of our country, so was out language. The Westward expansion, the Civil War, and the abolitionist movement all furthered the development of slang. Slang soon gained the interest of popular writers and lost some of its original taboo. Walt Whitman considered slang to be the life of language. Whitman wrote that slang, “was a wholesome … of common humanity to escape the form bald literalism, and express illimitably.” The post WWI era brought a new demand for entertainment, mass media, and slangy fiction. Modern American slang has since been shaped and reshaped by the different cultures and the emergence of technology, which has left our society with varieties of slang from extremes like Street/Drug slang to African-American slang. Whereas slang was once considered to be the lowliest form of communication, many now consider slang to be an insightful variation to the blandness of the standard language.

We all desire the uniqueness of our own language, the unity it provides our culture. As slang is often defined by region and status, so are our great short stories. The works of Melville and Hawthorne often draw from their New England roots and gift books such as The Keepsake are largely written to address the interests of the well-to-do. Stories dating back to Aesop’s fables use simplistic language and dialect to express morals directed to the common people. The short story would be incapable of appealing to its desired region without capturing the dialect and popular language of the area.

And just as we no longer use most slang terms featured in Household Words such as “crushing by Jove!” the short story has also developed to encompass our changing culture. Publishings such as Household Words are obviously a thing of the past but even magazines and journals, the more modern forms of periodicals, are slowly becoming outdated. The great literature of our time is now available to the masses at the click of a button in the form of blogs, where the works of anyone can be published instantaneously. Blog based books, known as blooks, have been published and it’s possible that blook writers such as Salam Pax, Ellen Simonetti, Jessica Cutler, and ScrappleFace will be the next great authors of our time. Because the short stories featured in blogs are written by the average man to appeal to the average man, they naturally use the slang of popular culture.

The goal of a short story is to give the reader a small window into the world it encapsulates. Short stories naturally take on the slang and dialect of the region they originate from and the audience they’re designed to appeal to. As Slang provides a strong commentary on our changing language, so does the following modern interpretation on the slang of our generation that’s so essential for the modern short story.

Thorne, Tony, The Dictionary of Contemporary Slang (New York: Pantheon Books, 1990) 26.
Wikipedia, “Blog”
[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blog] 24 Mar. 2008.

Excerpts from Slang by George A. Sala in Household Words, 1853

It has been a pleasant conceit with philosophers and writers to distinguish the successive ages of what, in the plentitude of their wisdom, they call the world, by some metallic nicknames. We have had the Golden Age, and the Silver Age, the Age of Iron, and the Age of Bronze; this present era will, perhaps, be known to our grandchildren as the age of Electro-plating, from its general tendency to shams and counterfeits; and, when the capital of the Anglo-Saxon Empire shall be, some hundreds of years hence, somewhere in the South Seas, or in the centre of Africa or interior of China, the age that is to come may be known as the Age of Platina of that of Potassium, or some one of the hundreds of new metals, which will, of course, be discovered by that time.

However, this present age may be distinguished by future generations, whether ferruginously, or auriferously, or argentinally, there can be no doubt that the Victorian era will be known hereafter – and anything by favourably, I surmise – as as epoch of the most unscrupulous heterodoxy in the application of names. What was once occasionally tolerated as a humorous aberration, afterwards degenerated into folly and perversity, and is now a vice and a nuisance. Without the slightest regard to the proprieties of nomenclature, or to what I may call the unities of signification, we apply names to objects, abstractions, and persons stupidly, irrationally, inconsistently: completely ignoring the nature, the quality, the gender, the structure of the thing, we prefix to it a name which no only fails to convey an idea of what it materially is, but actually obscures and mystifies it. A persistence in such a course must inevitably tend to debase and corrupt that currency of speech which it has been the aim of the greatest scholars and publicists, from the days of Elizabeth downwards, to elevate, to improve, and to refine; and, if we continue to reckless and indiscriminate importation and incorporation into our language of every cant term of speech from the columns of American newspapers, every Canvas Town epithet from the vocabularies of gold-diggers, every bastard classicism dragged head and shoulders from a lexicon by an advertising tradesman to puft his wares, every slip-slop Gallicism from the shelves of the circulating library; if we persist in yoking Hamlets of adjectives to Hecubas of nouns, the noble English tongue will become, fifty years hence, a mere dialect of colonial idioms, enervated ultramontanisms and literate slang. The fertility of a language may degenerate into the feculence of weeds and tares: should we not rather, instead of raking and heaping together worthless novelties of expression, endeavor to weed, to expurgate, to epurate; to render, once more, wholesome and pellucid that which was once a “well of English undefiled,” and rescue it from the sewerage of verbiage and slang? The Thames is to be purified; why not the language?

…

It is no excuse for this word-sinning of ours to say, that we have learnt a great portion of our new-fangled names and expressions from America. The utterer is as bad as the coiner. It is true that our trans-atlantic cousins have not only set us the example, but have frequently surpassed us in their eagerness to coin new words, and to apply names to things with which they have not the remotest relation. The Americans call New York the “empire city,” as if a city – and in a republic moreover – could be under any circumstances an empire. Another town of theirs is the “crescent city,” and so fond of the name of city are they, that they frequently apply it to a group of half-a-dozen log cabins and a whisky shop in a marsh, on the banks of some muddy, fever-haunted river. Every speculator in “town lots” (slang again) in the States has founded half-a-dozen such “cities.”

In the United States if half-a-dozen newspaper editors, post-masters, and dissenting ministers, two or three revolvers, a bowie knife, a tooth-pick, and a plug of tobacco get together in a bar room of an hotel, the meeting is forthwith called a “caucus” or a “mass meeting.” If Joel J. Wainwright blows out General Zebedee Ruffle’s brains on the New Orleans levee, it is not murder but a “difficulty.” In South America, if a score of swarthy outlaws – calling themselves generals and colonels, and who were muleteers the week before – meet in an outhouse to concert the assassination of the dictator of the republic, (who may have been the landlord of a venta or a hide jobber a year ago,) the ragged conclave calls itself a “pronunciamento.”

And touching the use of the terms, “monster,” “mammoth,” “leviathan,” how very trying have those misplaced words become! Their violent transformation from substantives into adjectives is the least of their wrongs; the poor harmless animals have been outraged in a hundred ways besides. The monster, I believe, first became acquainted with a meeting in connection with that great agitator, so calm now in Glasnevin cemetery, and whose agitation has been followed by such a singular tranquility and apathy in the land he agitated. As something possibly, but not necessarily expressing hugeness (for the most diminutive objects may be monstrous) the term of monster was not inapplicable. But in a very few months every re-union of four-and-twenty fiddlers in a row was dubbed a monster concert; a loaf made with a double allowance of dough was a monster loaf; every confectioner’s new year’s raffle was a monster twelfth cake; we had monster slop-selling shops, and the monster pelagonium drove our old familiar friend, the enormous goose-berry from the field. Then came the mammoth. And American speculator – who in the days when spades were spades, would have been called a showman, but who called himself a “professor and a tiger king,” neither of which he was – had a horse, some hands above the ordinary standard of horseflesh, and forthwith called him the mammoth horse. That obsolete animal the Mammoth being reputed to have been of vast dimensions, gave to the horse this new nickname; but in a short time there started up from all quarters of the Anglo-Saxon globe, from the sky, the earth, and from the waters under the earth, a plethora of mammoths.

…

Her Majesty Queen Anne is dead; but for Her Majesty’s decease we should have had an Academy of Letters and an Academy Dictionary in England. There are two opinions in this country relative to the utility of academies; and, without advocating the formation of such an institution I may be permitted submissively to plead that we really do want a new dictionary – if not in justice to ourselves, at least in justice to foreigners, and in justice to our great-great-grand-children.

A Note on the Style of Slang and Its Relationship to Household Words by Ted Levin

At first glance an essay condemning the use of slang and purporting it to be a sign of the slow and uncontrollable decline of society seems to be out of place in Household Words – a literary magazine which employed Charles Dickens, who himself embraced the slang of the time in his own writing, as the chief editor and a frequent contributor. Dickens himself was on the cutting edge of language use employing words to which Sala takes particular exception, namely those that elude the dictionaries and thus cannot be easily controlled or regulated. In some of his earliest sketches concerning the modernizing of London, Dickens adopted the newly formed definitions of words. One of these words was cad. When talking about the increasingly visible omnibus he does not label passengers as cads which was the word’s standard use, but uses the term for the bus drivers. This second definition appeared in print for the first time in the same year as Dickens’ story. Thus it seems odd that if as Lohrli suggests Household Words was Dickens’ mouth piece he would publish such an essay (1). However, with some exploration into the publishing of literary magazines and collections of the time, and paying particular attention to Dickens’ view of his own magazine we can see that Slang would not only be acceptable in content, but that its style lends itself well to Household Words.

Unlike present collections of artistic works including art, literature, or more modern media such as television shows or movies, which seem to be for the most part focused on a specific theme whether that be a creator, an event, or another occurrence, some literary collections of the nineteenth century lacked such a clear theme, and because of this welcomed a variety of entries. This general acceptance of a wide range of materials allowed not just short stories to be published in literary collections, but also poetry and non-fiction. Literary annuals similar in content and purpose to, but more expensive, published less frequently, and hence arguably more encompassing than magazines such as Household Words and even magazines of the present contained, “poetry, short fiction, and non-fiction” (Friedman 8-10). In this same vein, Dickens himself refers to Household Words as a, “weekly miscellany” (Lohrli 3). From this small observation it can be seen that a reader of Household Words or another similar collection during and even decades after its publishing would have had no qualms about seeing an article on slang appear in close proximity to other articles, stories, and poetry.

Nevertheless, the fact that various genres were published should not lead the reader to believe that there was no purpose behind what was included. Literary collections strove to create a work that was not only entertaining, but also instructional. Regarding the Forget-Me-Not, the oldest British Annual, Rudolph Ackermann, the editor, stated that his goal was to, “unite the agreeable with the useful”(Friedman 13). Similarly, Dickens, again speaking of his magazine, stated that one of its intended purposes was, “the general improvement of social conditions” (Lorhli 4). In this pursuit, nonfiction articles regarding various aspects of society, language use among them, were quite effective at relaying to the readers what the editors deemed to be knowledge that would better them. When combined with entertaining fiction and poetry a collection was created that could please the reader but also convey information concerning a wide variety of interests. Looking through the table of contents of the volume of Household Words containing Slang one can find articles pertaining to fashion, travel, homemaking, etiquette, philosophy, and science and medicine, as well as other non-fictional genres (Dickens). Lorhli notes, that articles such as these had two purposes. The first was to inform the reader about various topics as is the goal of articles like The Plant Cell, which as the name suggests concerns plant biology, or to provide social import a feat accomplished indirectly in Ignoble Conduct of a Nobleman (4). Slang can then clearly be seen to have a similar purpose, and in fact achieves both goals. It informs the reader about the current state of the English language providing definitions for some slang terms, as well as commenting on the use of slang and how it is seen by society.

Unfortunately, this remark along with the one above only serves to show how an article such as the one we are considering at present may have fit within the general guidelines of what was acceptable to publish at the time. If we want to understand how the article fits within Household Words more specifically and how it relates to the articles around it we must look more closely at Dickens’ vision and requirements of his magazine.

As we have just seen magazines like Household Words did not have a common thread in a sense of a theme or central topic, and, although editors did try to create a collection not just for entertainment but the relay of information as well, this cannot be seen as a unique characteristic of Dickens’ publication. However, there is indeed a characteristic that Dickens’ hoped that all the works, in his publication would contain – a writing style containing levity and humor. In fact, it was this writing style that set Household Words apart from the many other magazines addressing similar issues: “the popular – “readable” – discussion of maters in Dickens’ widely read periodical brought them attention that their sober presentation in specialized journals and in upper-class journals did not give them” (Lorhli 5). Sala’s article, as we soon shall see, was no exception. No matter the topic, Dickens’ attempted to not simply publish works that were either informative or entertaining but ideally both – publishing fiction with morals and nonfiction with flair. His expectations are made clear, again by Lorhli, “Factual, informative, instructional, didactic material was to be presented in a ‘fanciful’, ‘imaginative’, ‘picturesque’, ‘quaint’ way” (9). Additionally, as observed by a contemporary reviewer, singular events or occurrences of little import were embellished: “‘isolated blemishes in the social system are magnified through the hazy medium of exaggerated phrases to the dimensions of the entire system, and casual exceptions are converted into a universal rule” (9). If we now look at Sala’s essay particularly we can see that this humorous writing style full of levity and exaggeration can easily be found and help to explain how this article fits relates to works of all genres within Household Words.

Humor, although it is one of the more subjective attributes of a work, obviously is present in Slang in many categories including exaggeration, sarcasm, and simply the presentation of funny scenes and imagery. Exaggeration may be the easiest to see as it quickly appears to the reader within first paragraph. Sala informs us that the Victorian era will be known to history as the “Age of Electro-plating” because like others eras whose metallurgic nicknames have accurately reflected their age, electro-plating accurately reflects a society that according to Sala has a “general tendency to shams and counterfeits” (Sala 73). Clearly, this statement is an embellishment of an observation that could easily be made of any era. Shams and counterfeits have arguably always existed and will continue to do so for some time, but by taking a simple truth and inflating its importance the author has created a humorous observation that welcomes the reader to learn about Sala’s other complaints. Turning to slang, but continuing his exaggeration regarding speakers of English in the Victorian Era, Sala claims this time period to be, “the epoch of the most unscrupulous heterodoxy in the application of names” (73). Again it is clear, especially by the use of superlatives, that Sala has taken a smaller issue and created a greatly inflated concern of it. Later in the piece another particularly interesting passage of exaggeration can be found. Here we see Sala attempting to argue that slang is a new occurrence and that older writers wrote without slang and because of this Victorians are able to understand older writings with more ease than those of their own times: “I cannot find much tendency to the employment of slang in the writings of our early humorists” (74). Clearly, Sala is either playing down the use of slang by authors such as Shakespeare or he is stubborn in refusing to admit that slang is indeed present. And the former seems the wiser choice, but other examples of levity can be found as well.

Sarcasm is also present within the essay. While discussing the habit of high society to use foreign expressions and to mix foreign sounding terms and pronunciation with English, Sala notes, “when your ladyship does condescend to speak English, it is only with a delightful mincingness of accent and a liberal use of superlatives” (76). In describing the lady’s adoption of French pronunciation into English and the unnecessary use of superlatives like “divine” and “awfully”, it is apparent the Sala abhors these characteristics, but presenting this disagreement sarcastically, calling it delightful, the levity of the article is maintained.
Lastly, Sala employs his light writing style for his definitions of slang terms. These instances more that the other two categories provide clear examples of how a light style can make an informative article much more readable and appealing to a wide range of people. The term caucus is hilariously defined by Sala to be, “a dozen newspaper editors, post-masters, and dissenting ministers, two or three revolvers, a bowtie knife, a tooth-pick, and a plug of tobacco get[ting] together in the bar room of a hotel” (74). Using this funny definition in place of a more serious, accurate definition makes the article much less like a dictionary which would be boring to read, and allows the article to fit more with the writing style Dickens wanted to present to his readers. Even when the definition is straightforward it is not free from Sala’s assault. After defining the slang term “the danseate” (dancing tea), Sala goes on to ridicule its English meaning: “Does tea dance? Can it dance” (76). Again by, attacking definitions showing their apparent absurdity and nonsensical nature, Sala creates not only an article that addresses a social problem and informs its readers, but does so in a fashion that brings entertainment and levity into the piece.

It is then clear that although the essay may at first seem to be out of place – this is indeed not the case. Rather, the essay was not only compatible with the content of literary magazines of the time, but also compatible with the style and goal specific to Household Words. Through the use of exaggeration and a humor, Sala was able to craft an essay that successfully achieved the goal that Dickens’ expected of all works in his periodical. It combines information and comments on societal acceptance with entertainment to weave a common thread through all the material and connect and seemingly disjointed collection into a unitary, readable compilation.

Works Cited
Friedman, Paula R. Introduction. The Keepsake for 1829. Frederic Mansel Reynolds Ed. Ontario,
Canada: Broadview Encore Editions, 2006.
Lohrli, Anne. Household Words. Toronto, Canada: University of Toronto Press, 1973.
Sala, George A. “Slang”. Household Words. Ed. Charles Dickens. Vol. 8. London: Bradbury and
Evans Printers, 1854.

Preface to “Slang: A Modern Interpretation” by Rebecca Blomberg

James Hogg wrote stories featuring various dialects representative of specific locations in Scotland. At the beginning of “An Old Soldier’s Tale,” Margaret says, “It’s no to be the battle o’ Culloden, then Andrew, ya hae gart me greet ower often about that already.” Published in 1820, this represents a time and place where the characters would understand each other, but a majority of the audience might not. On the next page, Hogg addresses this issue, saying, “were I to tell it in his own dialect, it would be unintelligible to the greater part of readers.” In 1853, the original article “Slang,” was published in “Household Words,” in which the author criticizes the Victorian era’s use of such slang, which to a reader of a Victorian short story may appear as difficult to comprehend as “An Old Soldier’s Tale.” While the tone of the “Slang” article is often sarcastic, it ultimately proves that writings specific to a time and place will not necessarily translate to a foreign or future audience. This issue is inherent in language, and continues in the use of present day American English in fiction. In Bret Easton Ellis’ short story “At the Still Point,” some dialogue reads, “’You guys are being total dicks,’ Graham says, playing with a bread stick. He offers it to Dirk who waves it away. ‘No, come on, Raymond,’ Dirk says. ‘You brought this up. Now say it, pussy.’ ‘Tell them to shut up or something,’ Graham says to me.” These words and terminologies suffer the same flaws as Hogg’s. Scottish readers in 1820 would understand “At the Still Point” as well as California readers in 1994 would understand “An Old Soldier’s Tale.” This issue will continue for as long as languages evolve.

Slang: A Modern Interpretation by Rebecca Blomberg

Philosophers and writers have distinguished periods in history separate from one another, characterized by various metals. We have the Golden Age, Silver Age, Iron Age, and Bronze Age. While the Victorian period may be comparable to the Age of Electro Plating, the current American era will for generations come to be known as the Fool’s Gold Age. Much like Pyrite, which is not quite what it seems, the English language presents itself in countless words which simply do not say what they mean.

What began as an occasional joke among friends has become downright criminal. Different groups of people, rather than using the words that describe their necessities, have resorted to mutilating the integrity of words, assigning names seemingly at random to items with already perfectly acceptable titles. Not only does this interfere with communication by obscuring the true nature of the object being described, it confuses the inner significance of those things already in existence. If, as a society, we continue to borrow words from every popular rap song, every trendy advertisement, and every celebrity interview, the English language in fifty years will become a nonsensical jumble of esoteric dialects and hipster terminology.

The language is becoming a mass of fog and greenhouse gases. Where we aim to save the environment and improve the condition of global warming, we should also detoxify the current state of American English. Where we strive to produce electric cars and eliminate carbon emissions, we should pick up the slack, returning English to a pure state and removing all forms of unnecessary slang.

It comes as no surprise to mention that a majority of our slang derives from the urban community associated with hip hop music. Where these speakers mislabel their lives, the literary community and general public commit an offense against humanity in repetition of such gibberish. If one grows up with little money and one parent in a neighborhood full of people in similar situations, they all of a sudden are locked in a “ghetto.” If one of these men grows up to become popular and gathers a following, the people with whom he surrounds himself are his “posse.”

In terms of description, “mad” has taken on a life of its own. Rather than referring correctly to “madness” or “a state of mental instability”, or even less correctly but more acceptably “angry”, “mad” now means “very.” To say one is “mad angry” would not be redundant. That person would simply have a severe case of anger.

Due to the overexposure of celebrity in American culture, Paris Hilton’s personal dialect has swept the nation by storm. When something is “hot,” it is not necessarily at a very warm temperature. In fact, “hot”, can be a number of things from good to pleasurable to attractive, or even “cool.” Like “hot,” “cool” may have nothing to do with temperature, but rather an ineffable quality of peer acceptability. The poor girl with the “cool” scarf may unfortunately suffer overwhelming heat despite its “coolness.” Likewise, the girl with the “hot” jacket may not in fact be protected from the winter cold.

The quality of comedy has declined in recent years due to the use of slang words. As Shakespeare wrote comedy, he employed language both straight forward and accessible in order to convey his point clearly and without confusion. Presently, Judd Apatow produces comedy after comedy using all kinds of distorted words. In “The Forty Year Old Virgin,” he unintelligibly writes, “You know how I know you’re gay? You just told me you’re not sleeping with women anymore.” Traditionally and according to the genuine definitions of these words, one character accuses another of being felicitous because he does not slumber in the proximity of women. American audiences appreciate this comedy so much, Apatow’s film grossed domestically $109.5 million, in comparison to the foreign gross of $67 million.

While one may argue that only the illiterate and uneducated masses make common use of slang, it is in fact a new movement in the literary world in which an entirely unique dialect is currently developing. Among users of the “world wide web” or internet, “blogging” has become a popular medium for writing both fiction and non fiction. When bloggers produce fiction based on previously published works known as fan fiction, or “fanfic” as they call it, they communicate using a system of slang barely resembling the English language. “Fanfic” can be either “slash” or “het,” meaning homo or heterosexual, depending on preferred “shipping,” meaning the relationship on which the writer focuses. The stories can contain “OTPs” (One True Pairs) or take place in an “AU” (Alternate Universe). In an effort to create literature, these bloggers destroy all that is holy and sanctified about the English language.

Beyond the world of internet literature, digital communications have been reduced to barbaric symbols in order to express ideas. This “IM” or “Text” slang leaves little trace of actual words. “Lol” indicates that a person is “laughing out loud,” even though this is often misrepresentative, as most typers do not in fact laugh out loud when they claim to “lol.” “Brb” means one will “be right back,” “ttyl” means one will “talk to you later,” and “idk” means “I don’t know.” To avoid the strain of typing two extra letters, “you” has become “u” and “are” has become “r.” At this rate, our society can easily revert back to cave drawings and banging rocks together.

Slang extends from the highest class of society to the lowest in all aspects of life. In fine dining, a culinary artist may offer you an “amuse,” or a bite to entertain your mouth before a meal. In the theatre, “spiking” a set piece involves no sharp objects and “striking” a set involves no beatings. In politics, “grassroots” campaigns involve no horticulture.

Drug users may consume “shrooms” or “percs.” When smoking marijuana, they might label it “pot,” “weed,” “grass,” “herb,” “Mary Jane,” “ganja,” “reefer,” “green,” or any other number of contrived names. Thus through all grades and professions of life runs this ubiquitous slang.

Without any clear line as to where English ends and nonsense begins, it is clear why so many foreigners living in America fail to learn English. Spanish is fast becoming a rival prominent language in the country, and if Americans continue to mutilate English, Spanish will prove to be a more pertinent language to learn. Therefore, a compilation of actual words and definitions as an official national dictionary may be the most prudent action at this time to save America from losing English completely.

Hogg, James. “An Old Soldier’s Tale,” in Winter Evening Tales. Edinburgh, 1820
Ellis, Bret Easton. “At the Still Point,” in The Informers. Vintage Contemporaries, 1994

Author Biography: George Augustus Sala, 1828-1895 by Jessica Steinberg

Often debated in the short story genre is the importance of the author The article “Slang” is no different, in that investigating the life and perspective of the author gives greater insight into the meaning and purpose of the work. Dickens did not include the name of the author for most of the contributions in Household Words, but through Anne Lohrli’s investigative work, the authors have all been compiled, providing us with the opportunity to hopefully draw deeper meaning from the articles. The article “Slang” was written by the English journalist George Augustus Sala.

George A. Sala was born on November 24, 1828 in London. His father died soon after his birth, and he was raised by his mother, a singer and actress. He was educated in Paris for some time, and had a career as an artist, doing illustrations and engravings. But this was not where his true interest lay, as he wanted to someday become a journalist (Lohrli 421).

Charles Dickens, who compiled the stories and articles within the magazine Household Words, was well acquainted with Henrietta Simon, Sala’s mother. Through this connection, Dickens became familiar with Sala’s work as an aspiring writer and journalist, and in 1851 invited him to submit his writing to the collection. Sala’s first contribution to Household Words was a work entitled “The Key of the Street,” which Dickens called “a very remarkable piece of description” (Lohrli 422). For the next five years, Sala continued to submit regularly to Household Words, writing both articles and pieces of short fiction, contributing over 150 pieces during this period.

Sala wrote “Slang” in September of 1853, during the middle of his time writing for the publication. While his contributions were varied, “Slang” is a good representation of his work, demonstrating his societal focus and his style, including humor and the use of sketches within the article. Sala was particularly skilled in this regard, one of the reasons he was continually asked to write on a variety of issues. His pieces were popular with a public who was interested in the state of society, but preferred a more varied style than one would normally find in a none-fiction piece.

The fact that Sala was a novelist as well as a journalist during his career makes his contributions like “Slang” particularly relevant in relation to the short story genre. Essentially Sala creates societal critiques in a literary style: As was common with most of the non-fiction articles in Household Words, Sala employs “fantasy, vision, fable, imaginary travels, and the use of fictitious characters to serve as mouthpieces of information and opinion,” all of which are devices employed in the short stories (Lohrli 9). While a piece like “Slang” or another of Sala’s articles does not have a narrative arc like a short story, Sala does create a societal sketch, giving the reader a glimpse into life at the time. His unique perspective allows the article to be more than simply a journalistic piece, and instead bringing it into a more literary genre.

In a collaborative decision made in 1856, Dickens sent Sala to Russia as a special correspondent, where he periodically sent articles back to Household Words. Dickens was unimpressed with his work during this time, but it provided Sala with experience that would later influence some of his greatest and most recognized work. After publication ceased on Household Words, Sala worked briefly for All the Year Round, Illustrated London News, and The Sunday Times. Up until right before his death he worked for the Daily Telegraph, for which his work as a special correspondent was employed and especially useful. He was married twice during his lifetime, neither marriage producing children. Sala died on December 8, 1895 at the age of 67 (Edwards).

Works Cited:
Edwards, P.D. “Sala, George Augustus (1828-1895).” Oxford Dictionary of National
Biography, Oxford University Press, 2004; online edn, May 2005
[http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/24526, accessed 26 March 2008]
Lohrli, Anne. Household Words. Toronto, Canada: University of Toronto Press, 1973.

The quote on the "caucus" drawing reads: “In the United States if half-a dozen newspaper editors, post-masters, and dissenting ministers, two or three revolvers, a bowtie knife, a tooth-pick, and a plug of tobacco get together in the bar room of an hotel, the meeting is forthwith called a “caucus.”
The quote from the "mammoth" drawing reads: “Then came the mammoth … a loaf made with a double allowance of dough became a monster loaf, cheese made considerably larger than convenient, were exhibited under the false pretense of being mammoths. If anybody made anything, or saw anything, or saw anything, or wrote anything big, it became a mammoth.”

Note from the Illustrator by Gail Goldspiel

In illustrating this non-fiction article, “Slang,” found in the 1853 edition of Charles Dickens’ Household Words, I like to think of my images as those of the sort that would run as cartoons in The New Yorker. They are at once not as elaborate nor as ornate as the engravings seen in The Keepsake, but they too work in forming a cohesive whole, in forming a product of both images and text.

Unlike The Keepsake, Household Words, did not pride itself on including a lot of illustrations. Meant for the middle-class, this periodical assumed a more newspaper like form, packed with news and commentaries, as well as with poems and short stories. It was, as Dickens’ pointed out in the “Preliminary Word” to the 1850 edition, a periodical that aspired to “live in the Household affections … and be the comrade of many thousands of people, of both sexes, and of all ages, and all conditions.”

I like to think that my illustrations in this way appeal to anyone and everyone, and maintain “that light of Fancy” which Dickens’ eagerly sought to keep as the famous tone of his periodical. My images are extensions of the humorous and often satirical language of George Augustus Sala’s article, and are meant to serve as visual representations of his written words.

The images you have come across were thereby ones which I was inspired to create from particularly humorous prose and descriptions found within the article.

While it is true that illustrations were not often found within Dickens’ Household Words, we decided to incorporate them within our version, as a way to better update and create a new edition. As this was and always has been a periodical which seeks to reach everyone, illustrations are a good device through which to engage and capture the reader’s attention. I have not sought to convey the fashions of the time to women as was seen in Godey’s Lady’s Book, nor have I attempted to create intricate engravings as those in The Keepsake. Just as Dickens sought to advertise not “beyond the display of a few sensible announcements and placards carefully placed,” I have sought to illustrate simply and sensibly and in tandem with the essay as a whole.

It is thus my hope that these illustrations add to the reader’s enjoyment and overall experience of the article. I hope that they help to portray this intriguing topic of slang, which was and still is most cleverly (and wittily) conveyed.

-Gerald Giles Grubb, “The Editorial Policies of Charles Dickens, 1943. PMLA, Modern Language Association. JSTOR. Brandeis University Libraries.

2008-05-03T14:24:00.000-07:00

Fables Designed for the Instruction and Education of Youth

A Note on the Publication: Dodsley's Fables

Maxwell C. Shay

The fable is a literary medium that, in the case of Aesop's works, has existed since the 5th century BC. The fable provides wonderful metaphors that shed deep light upon the world around us, and also relate humorous situation that entertain us. Thus, they are a curious combination of humor and philosophical merit. Countless authors have written their own original fables (such as Joel Chandler Harris, mid 1800s) or adaptions of other classic fables (such as Jean de La Fontaine, 1600s), yet others, such as Robert Dodsley, have vanished into to past. The fact that Robert Dodsley's "Fables designed for the instruction and entertainment of youth" faded into the foggy past, however, is a very curious situation because, in his own time, Dodsley was a renowned author, respected publisher, and successful book-seller.

When we (me and my publishing group; including Sabrina Stone, Jay Judah, and Trevor Gloss) stumbled across Dodsley's fables (on Google books), it was hard to believe that they were not in current print. Dodsley's Select Collection of Old Plays and A collection of Poems by Several Hands, his most famous pieces, are relatively well known, and at first, we could find no other mention of Dodsley even writing these fables. After searching further, we discovered a mention of the fables in "Benedict: Making the Modern Reader - Chapter 4 pgrph 64". Although Dodsley mostly wrote in verse, as Jay Judah mentions in "The Life of the Author and a Note on the Text", "Dodsley gave up on verse and focused on what would become his secret project, his masterwork...in a letter written to the poet William Shenstone, he does reveal his secret. 'I am at present,' he says, 'writing from Aesop and others, an hundred select Fables in prose, for the use of schools; we having no book of that kind fit to put into the hands of youth, from the wretched manner in which they are written.'" At this point we were not yet 100% sure if we were going to re-publish these fables, but when we discovered his passionate intent for his work, we decided to look further, and analyze the "execution" of his "masterpiece". In our initial readings of his fables, the most striking feature was Dodsley's separation of fable and moral. Instead of having each moral preceded by a fable, Dodsley chose to include his intended morals in a separate appendix. To me, this is important for two reasons. Firstly, by separating Fable from moral, the reader is not forced into a sociological mindset. Think of it this way: if, when reading, you know that you are going to come across a very definite moral that may or may not exist within a context that is relative to you, then no matter what deeper meaning you take from this story, you will be peg-holed into conforming your opinion to those of the "all knowing author." As an example, take Dodsley's "Prometheus." I understood this fable to show how ignorance (in this case, of the future) is truly blissful, and hope is society's source of happiness. Had I read this story and found the moral following the fable (yes, the moral follows the fable on the website, but I will explain that later) whatever deeper meaning that my mind was pondering would be lost as the gusty wind of intended meaning blew in. In the end, it is a very simple addition that I take great pleasure in, and it, in combination with Dodsley's interesting background, heavily influenced our decision towards re-publishing these fables. Now that we had selected a set of fables, we had to extract specific fables that sufficiently represented Dodsley's education intentions.

In our analysis, we felt that Dodsley's writing encompassed six moral archetypes: Fables citing the joys of simplicity, fables warning against making assumptions, fables citing the ills of greed, fables where the weaker becomes the stronger, fables in which things are not as they appear, and fables citing the values and dangers of consideration. These are all moral archetypes that exist and are pertinent in the world today, and as well serve to better the "instruction and entertainment of youth," just as Dodsley intended. For each moral archetype we selected two specific stories that duly represented Dodsley's writing. You can view all twelve of these fables below. Why we chose to re-publish them in an internet medium is the next topic of this introduction.

Choosing to re-publish these fables on a web-site was not done whimsically. There are two very strong publication advantages the world wide web gives you, that no other medium can. Firstly, it is nearly free. Regardless of this website originally being a class assignment (were I to re-publish any given literary work professionally I would go about it exactly the same way I went about this), the fact that the internet can be accessed, used, and published on for free means that one can re-publish without needing to find a printing or advertising solution. Because publishing and advertising itself it very expensive, re-publication requires that said publication will generate a profit. No matter the merit of the works, if a profit cannot be reached the work will not be re-published. On sites such as blogspot (that hosts this exact post!), re-publication can be done for free, and can be accessed by anyone, from anywhere. If an internet re-publication garners enough interest to be worthy of true publication, wonderful! The publisher has tested the waters safely, discerned accurately that they can make a profit, and then the once forgotten author/literary work has been restored to the critical acclaim they/it always deserved. Secondly, as I just mentioned, the re-publication can be accessed by anyone from anywhere. So, even if a lost work is not a literary jewel, having the work re-published in a modern medium means the opportunity to reference lost sources increases exponentially, and thus gives everyone, from scholar to child, a chance to create their own opinions of these discrete and hidden works. The layout of the web-page is also precisely defined for re-publishing. By giving a history of the author on the main page a context is created for these fables. Reiterating from what I said earlier, one determining point for choosing these fables was the history of the author. It only makes sense to show everyone what we saw as most important, first. The sidebar on the left allows a visitor to navigate through the fables quickly and effectively by guiding them to information about the re-publishers, to the fables themselves, to the moral archetypes, to our analytical essay (by Trevor Gloss), as well as to publication notes (I.E credits). Since the reader will see the sidebar (usually) second (after the author's essay), he/she will want to quickly access to all of the site's functions. The actual design and layout within the "about us", "analytical essay", "publication notes", and "the original", are of little importance, they exist to inform, and are not there to draw an average "site-goer" in. The format of our fables(Specifically, where to place the morals), had portray the author's intentions, and was the most debated part of the entire project.

The analysis of these morals, and decision to publish in an internet medium with original illustrations, went along very smoothly. But, when we went to format the selected fables, we needed to decide how/where to place the morals. As I mentioned earlier, an important part of selecting Dodsley's works was the idea of morals separate from fables. If you look at the fable of "The Sensitive plant and the Thistle"(For Example), you will notice that the moral is hidden from view(click on "Moral" and it pops up), but still follows the fable itself. I strongly advocated for moving the morals onto a separate page, however, the group compromised and, for convenience and reference sake, we decided to "hide" the morals just below the story itself. In this way, the reader is not pigeon-holed into an opinion about what he/she just read, but instead has an opportunity to see the author's intended meaning of the reading.

When it comes right down to it I, along with our group, enjoyed this project. We had the chance to read and experience literary works that we would never have stumbled across on our own. One thing that caught my eye, as we were reading through other very discrete texts, was the sheer number of un-recognized works that, I realized, must be floating around the world. The fact of the matter is, there are countless works out there that will never be recognized. Even with the boom of the internet and the availability to republish literary works "at will," we can never hope to uncover everything. I suppose, for me, the most rewarding part of this exercise, along with the reason for my desire to publish beyond latte, was knowing that I was helping put someone's long worked literary passion into existence once again. I think that we all can agree that one of the most important themes that our world should revolve around is to "give credit where credit is due," and I feel that this project accurately accomplished that theme. Continue reading this post for "The Life of the Author and a Note on the Text" by Jay Judah, and to read the twelve selected fables, each preceded by an introduction and illustrations by Sabrina Stone, an analysis by Trevor Gloss, and followed by an appendix containing each fable's moral (Just as Dodsley had intended).

The Life of the Author and a Note on the Text

Jay Judah

At the funeral of Robert Dodsley, a prominent English bookseller-turned-publisher-turned-author, the Shakespearean commentator Isaac Reed had the following to say: "It was his happiness to pass the greater part of his life with those whose names will be revered by posterity." Dodsley was the 1700's British literary circle's equivalent of Forrest Gump - the man who, without entirely meaning to, stumbles across some of history's most profound moments, finding himself in the right time, at the right position, in any given point in time. He introduced the public to some of the most prominent authors of his day - Dr. Johnson, Edmunde Burke, Defoe and Pope. His name, as publisher and editor, preceded the titles of some of the era's masterworks - and yet, while the work he published lives on, many have forgotten about the man himself. Dodsley never set out to attain that particular state in life. Born outside Nottinghamshire some time in 1703, Dodsley would try his hand at weaving, teaching and at being a footman before finally stumbling across what would make him a very wealthy - and famous, albeit forgettable - man.

His first work, titled Servitude: A Poem written by a Footman, was published in 1729 at the age of 26, and came attached with a note on the text by Daniel Defoe, noted journalist, spy and author who had attained fame with his publication of Robinson Crusoe ten years prior. This work awarded Dodsley a degree of fame and a following amongst the wealthy British upperclass, who granted him enough patronage to publish a follow up collection in a subscription format, titled A Muse in Livery, or, The Footman's Miscellany. With money earned from patronage and sales, as well as money borrowed from friends he made while moving in literary circles (as legend has it, a hundred pounds borrowed from Alexander Pope) Dodsley established himself as a bookseller at Tully's Head in Westminster, London.

From there, it was a logical leap to publishing original works, often sourced by Dodsley from his friends in highly esteemed literary circles - his first publication was Samuel Johnson's London, and many of Johnson's early works, as well as his English Dictionary, were co-financed and published by Dodsley himself. Besides publishing a great number of works, Dodsley founded literary magazines and served as editor, publisher and, to a degree, literary agent. He solicited his friends and other noted authors of the time for submissions, and spanning twenty years and four wholly unique periodicals (one of which continued for quite some time after Dodsley's death) featured work by Edmunde Burke, Lord Lyttleton, Lord Chesterfield and other notable names.

Dodsley continued his work on the periodicals while simultaneously assembling a number of well-received collections of poetry, dramatic works, short story and fable. Shortly after the publication of his best-received dramatic work Cleone (which held a long running in Convent Garden and sold over 2000 copies on its first day in print), Dodsley gave up on verse and focused on what would become his secret project, his masterwork. By 1757, he had become ill with gout, and was often struck with frequent attacks. Not until October 10th, 1758, in a letter written to the poet William Shenstone, does he reveal his secret. "I am at present," he says, "writing from Aesop and others, an hundred select Fables in prose, for the use of schools; we having no book of that kind fit to put into the hands of youth, from the wretched manner in which they are written." Over a summer spent at Durham, Dodsley wrote between forty and fifty original fables, which he proudly showed off to his literary friends, and garnered much praise. That fall, while focusing on writing a play, Dodsley wrote a further forty fables as idle distractions. His mission statement, as he puts it to Shenstone: "Indeed, we have no Collection of Fables in prose, that are fit to be read; and as the are amongst the first things that are put into the hands of young people, were they judiciously chosen, well told, in a Style concise & clear, & at the same time so plainly couch'd in the Narrative as to need no detach'd explanatory Moral at the end, I think it might possibly be a useful & acceptable work, and not altogether unentertaining."

The collection took an agonizingly long time for Dodsley to polish, refine and eventually print. Says Shenstone to a friend, explaining Dodsley's delay: "As to Dodsley's publishing this winter, he may possibly do so without loss of credit; but when one considers that [Dodsley's collection of fables] are, or ought to be, the standard for years to come, one can hardly avoid wishing him to give them the polish of another summer." After much revision and editing - and contributions from Shenstone, among others - and a few short years away from his untimely death, Dodsley published the first edition of his collected Fables, which sold out at an astonishing pace. Mere days after the publication of the first edition, Dodsley discusses the possibility of a second and even a third edition, which he would go on to write, edit and publish. Shenstone, in letters, truly believes in Dodsley's vision - that this collection, for the information and entertainment of youth, will live on to be taught for decades to come.

Why Dodsley, and his masterwork, have faded into obscurity, only time knows. His name lives on as a footnote on the lives of the authors he inspired, aided or recruited, famed and made wealthy, befriended and harrowed.

Dead and buried in Durham, Dodsley's tombstone bears the inscription:

If you have any respect

for uncommon industry and merit,

regard this place,

in which are deposited the remains of

MR. ROBERT DODSLEY:

who, as an author, raised himself

much above what could have been expected

from one in his rank of life,

and without a learned education:

and who, as a man, was scarce

exceeded

by any in integrity of heart,

and purity of manners and conversation.

He left this life for a better,

Sept. 25. 1764,

in the 61st year of his age.

The collection we have chosen to republish, titled Fables Designed for the Instruction and Entertainment of Youth, stands as the 58 best fables spanning all three of Dodsley's collections of fables. Oddly enough, this collection of English stories is published in Paris in 1800, cited within the text as the Eighth Year of the French republic. It is published for two specific Parisian booksellers, also cited in the text: Vergani and Favre. This collection follows Dodsley's original choice of separating the fable from the moral - the only morals contained within this edition exist in an index found at the collection's end, which also serves as the only index for the content therewithin. It is our goal to republish a selection of fables from this collection in a searchable context for the modern reader, and to highlight the exemplary work of a man who, for all intents and purposes, is lost to history.

The Fables

Introductions by Sabrina Stone

Analysis by Trevor Gloss

Fables Citing the Joys of Simplicity

Analysis: "He endowed him with all the faculties that are to be found amongst animal creation... to subdue them all..." (Dodsley 26). In Prometheus, Dodsley makes the titan the creator of all man and also the reason for his superiority. In the counter fable however Zeus (Jupiter) gives man folly, one of his largest failings. Prometheus is indeed marked for returning fire to man and with it the ability to progress, yet the deeds attributed to him here are usually given to Zeus. By their actions, Dodsley is portraying Zeus as a whimsical and harmful force while Prometheus is the benign life bringer. Traditionally both are found in Jupiter. Why then does the author make such a change? In Christianity, Dodsley's religion, Zeus is a heathen god and akin to the Devil and therefore he too must take on those destructive tendencies. Prometheus is the enemy of Zeus just as the enemy of God is the Devil and so becomes his polar opposite. With this mode of thought, good and evil are cleanly divided which would suggest that the author also saw the world in black and white.

I. Prometheus

Intro: In Prometheus, Prometheus endowed man with infinite skills with which to build a future and to choose his own path. But once man discovered that the future was set, that it was bleak and filled with struggle, he was overwhelmed with misery and saw no point in carrying on. Prometheus fixed this by taking away man's prescience and enabling him to enjoy the immediacy of life.

The Fable: Prometheus formed man of the finest clay, and animated his work with fire stolen from Heaven. He endowed him with all the faculties that are to be found amongst the animal creation: he gave him the courage of the Lion, the subtlety of the Fox, the providence of the Ant, and the industry of the Bee; and he enabled him, by the superiority of his understanding, to subdue them all, and to make them subservient to his use and pleasure. He discovered to him the metals hidden in the bowels of the earth, and shewed(sic) him their several uses. He instructed him in every thing that might tend to cultivate and civilize human life; he taught him to till the ground, and to improve the fertility of Nature; to build houses, to cover himself with garments, and to defend himself against the inclemencies of the air and the seasons; to compound medicines of salutary herbs, to heal wounds, and to cure diseases; to construct ships, to cross the seas, and to communicate to every country the riches of all. In a word, he endued him with sense and memory, with sagacity and invention, with art and science; and to crown all, he gave him an insight into futurity. But, alas! This latter gift, instead of improving, wholly destroyed the proper effect of all the former. Furnished with the means and instruments of happiness, Man nevertheless was miserable: though the knowledge and dread of future evil, he was incapable of enjoying present good. Prometheus saw, and immediately resolved to remedy this inconvenience: he effectually restored Man to a capacity of happiness, by depriving him of prescience, and giving him hope in its stead.

II. Jupiter's Lottery

Intro: When Minerva won the grand gift of wisdom in Jupiter's Lottery, the humans, having lost out and imagining they could never gain wisdom by their own merit, were furious. In retaliation, Jupiter gave them folly, which made them happier than knowledge ever could have.

The Fable: Jupiter, in order to please mankind, directed Mercury to give notice that he had established a Lottery, in which there were no blanks; and that, amongst a variety of other valuable chances, Wisdom was the highest prize. It was Jupiter’s command, that in this Lottery some of the gods should also become adventurers. The tickets being disposed of, and the wheels placed, Mercury was employed to preside at the drawing. It happened that the best prize fell to Minerva: upon which a general murmur ran through the assembly, and hints were thrown out that Jupiter had used some unfair practices to secure this desirable lot to his daughter. Jupiter, that he might at once both punish and silence these impious clamors of the human race, presented them with Folly in the place of Wisdom; with which they went away perfectly well contented. And from that time the greatest Fools have always looked upon themselves as the wisest men.

Fables Warning Against Making Assumptions

Analysis: The appearance is always first judged upon a new encounter for it only takes an instant to observe another being or object. It is the character that takes time to delve into - as is only right for the layers of a persona are much more varied than a layer of skin. In The Diamond and the Loadstone the chastising loadstone rebukes the gem, "I look upon you with pleasure and surprise: but I must be convinced that you are of some sort of use, before I acknowledge that that you have any real merit, or treat you with that respect which you seem to demand" (Dodsley 38).

The magnet tells of the ways he has changed the world despite his humble appearance and forces the diamond to confront the truth. A simple luster could not improve sea navigation or connect the world or have the same influence. A form is nothing without the character to fill it.

The Parrot's meaning illustrates the same point, but here Dodsley decides to take a different approach with the same lesson. The widower picks the "philosophical bird" as it would seem to have the greatest inner value, despite the display of the other birds (Dodsley 104). The man makes an assumption not based on physical appearance but on the mentality portrayed, on the inner working that he cannot really see. With the additional tale of The Parrot the author makes it clear that the only way to judge a person is after careful time has been spent in their company.

III. The Parrot

Intro: In The Parrot, a widower buys a parrot based on his tagline, "I think the more." Though this phrase indicates inner value and intelligence, it is no proof of such.

The Fable: A certain widower, in order to amuse his solitary hours, and in some measure supply the conversation of his departed helpmate of loquacious memory, determined to purchase a Parrot. With this view he applied to a dealer in birds, who showed him a large collection of Parrots or various kinds. Whilst they were exercising their talkative talents before him, one repeating the cries of the town, another asking for a cup of sack, and a third bawling out for a coach, he observed a green Parrot, perched in a thoughtful manner at a distance upon the foot of a table: And so you, my grace gentleman, said he, are quite silent. To which the Parrot replied, like a philosophical bird, “I think the more.” Pleased with this sensible answer, our widower immediately paid down his price, and took home the bird, conceiving great things from a creature who had given so striking a specimen of his parts. But after having instructed him during a whole month, he found, to his great disappointment, that he could get nothing more from him than the fatiguing repetition of the same dull sentence, “I think the more.” I find, said he, in great wrath, that thou art a most invincible fool: and then time more a fool; was I, for having formed a favorable opinion of thy abilities upon no better foundation than an affected solemnity.

IV. The Diamond and the Loadstone

Intro: The Diamond in The Diamond and the Loadstone makes assumptions about the worth of the loadstone based on its outward appearance. This, also, is an insufficient indicator of total value.

The Fable: A Diamond of great beauty and lustre, observing not only many other gems of a lower class ranged together with him in the same cabinet, but a Loadstone likewise placed not far from him, began to question the latter how he came there; and what pretensions he had to be ranked among the precious stones: he, who appeared to be no better than a mere flint: a sorry, coarse, rusty-looking pebble without any the least shining quality to advance him to such an honour; and concluded with desiring him to keep his distance, and pay a proper respect to his superiors.

"I find", said the Loadstone, "you judge by external appearances; and it is your interest, that others should form their judgement by the same rule. I must own I have nothing to boast of in that respect; but I may venture to say, that I make amends for my outward defects, by my inward qualities/ The great improvement of navigation in these latter ages is intirely(sic) owing to me. It is owing to me, that the distant parts of the world are known and accessible to each other; that the remotest nations are connected together, and all in a manner united into one common society; that by a mutual intercourse they relieve one another's wants, and all enjoy the same blessings peculiar to each> Great Britain is indebted to me for her wealth, her splendor,and her power; and the arts and sciences are in a great measure obliged to me for their late improvements, and their continual increase. I am willing to allow you your due praise in its full extent; you are a very pretty bawble; I am mightily delighted to see you glitter and sparkle; I look upon you with pleasure and surprise; but I must be convinced that you are of some sort of use, before I acknowledge that you have any real merit, or treat you with that respect which you seem to demand."

Fables Citing the Ills of Greed

Analysis: In these tales Dodsley chooses to explore the fragility and subjectivity of happiness, and how they are interconnected. In The Boy and the Butterfly, a young child is chasing after a colorful butterfly attempting to catch it as it lands on each flower. Finally, in a fit of impatience, the boy grabs a tulip and crushes the insect in it. The fable reads: "The dying insect, seeing the poor boy somewhat chagrined at his disappointment, addressed him with all the calmness of a stoic, in the following manner: - Behold now the end of they unprofitable solicitude ! and learn, for the benefit of thy future life, that all pleasure is but a painted butterfly; which, although it may serve to amuse thee in the pursuit, if embraced with too much ardour, will perish in thy grasp (Dodsley 53).From the brutal end of the butterfly comes the realization that joy is indeed fleeting, and that it is only by observing it and not smothering it that happiness is kept. Dodsley wanted the reader to ponder this thought and apply the lesson to life. Take enjoyment as it comes and then allow it to pass on so that it may come again. In The Peacock the author warns again what happens if it is grasped. Juno (Hera) grants the peacock its long train of feather after it so asks for them. Yet, his new garments restrict him from flying and whereas he believed their beauty would have put him above all birds, they instead take away his quality of being a bird - his ability to fly. The peacock's idea of happiness proves to be not what he truly desired, and so he loses his bliss. The tales show that care is needed in dealing with the good as well as the bad.

V. The Boy and the Butterfly

Intro: The Boy and the Butterfly is a rather straightforward tale. The boy chases after the butterfly because it is so beautiful and ephemeral, but, in doing so, he brings its death. The story is a perfect depiction of the idea that if you love something, you set it free.

The Fable: A Boy, greatly smitten with the colours of a Butterfly, pursued it from flower to flower with indefatigable pains. First he aimed to surprise it among the leaves of a rose; then to cover it with his hat, as it was feeding on a daisy; now hoped to secure it, as it rested on a sprig of myrtle; and now grew sure of his prize, perceiving it loiter on a bed of violets. But the fickle Fly, continually changing one blossom for another, still eluded his attempts. At length, observing it half buried in the cup of a tulip, he rushed forward, and snatching it with violence, crushed it all to pieces. The dying insect, seeing the poor Boy somewhat chagrined at his disappointment, addressed him with all the calmness of a stoic, in the following manner: --Behold, now the end of thy unprofitable solicitude! and learn, for the benefit of thy future life, that all pleasure is but a painted Butterfly; which, although it may serve to amuse thee in the pursuit, if embraced with too much ardour, will perish in thy grasp.

VI. The Peacock

Intro: The Peacock is another story of reaching for something that you shouldn't have. A peacock wants to be more beautiful that every other bird, so he requests to be honored with a train. Juno concedes, but in gaining the train, the peacock loses his ability to fly.

The Fable: The Peacock, who at first was distinguished only by a crest of feathers, preferred a petition to Juno that he might be honoured also with a train. As the bird was a particular favourite, Juno readily enough assented; and his train was ordered to surpass that of every fowl in the creation. The Minion, conscious of his superb appearance, thought it requisite to assume a proportionable dignity of gait and manners. The common Poultry of the farm-yard were quite astonished at his magnificence; and even the Pheasants themselves beheld him with an eye of envy. -- But when he attempted to fly, he perceived himself to have sacrificed all his activity to ostentation; and that he was encumbered by the pomp in which he placed his glory.

Fables Where the Weaker Becomes the Stronger

Analysis: Prudence and care should indeed be taken in all endeavors, but at times this idea of consequences is forgotten. When the stories of the crocodile and the caterpillar are paired, it seems that Dodsley intended to re-teach the notion of caution while imparting a new amendment to the moral. In The Tentyrites and the Ichneumon, the crocodile grows and terrorizes after hatching. Dodsley writes, "Imboldened by success, and the terror which prevailed wherever he appeared, he ventured to carry his incursions even into the island of Tentyra, and to brave the people, who boast themselves the only tamers of his race" (Dodsley 61). What is key to the tale though, is the Ichneumon who later remarks that he always prevents the evil of the crocodile by breaking its eggs. The crocodile has undergone a class change from its pre-hatched state to its present terrifying state. The caterpillar also transforms into its butterfly form in The Ant and the Caterpillar. Both rise up to a new level that demands respect from those that previously scorned them. The author wishes to introduce the reader to forethought when dealing with those that may one day pass you.

VII. The Tentyrites & The Ichneumon

Intro: In The Tentyrites and the Ichneumon, a crocodile murderously rampages through a town and the townspeople are at a loss as to how to approach the situation. An Ichneumon tells them that the problem is now theirs, but that if they had not underestimated the crocodile to begin with and had killed it in its shell, as he does, they would have prevented the current disaster.

The Fable: A Crocodile of prodigious size, and uncommon fierceness, infested the banks of the Nile, and spread desolation through all the neighboring country. He seized the Shepherd, together with the Sheep, and devoured the Herdsman as well as the Cattle. Emboldened by success, and the terror which prevailed wherever he appeared, he ventured to carry his incursions even into the island of Tentyra, and to brave the people, who boast themselves the only tamers of his race. The Tentyrites themselves were struck with horror at the appearance of a monster so much more terrible than they had ever seen before: even the boldest of them dared not to attack him openly; and the most experienced long endeavoured with all their art and address to surprise him, but in cain. As they were consulting together, what they should do in these circumstances, and Ichneumon stepped forth, and thus addressed them:

"I perceive your distress, neighbors; and though I cannot assist you in the present difficulty, yet give me leave to offer you some advice that may be of use to you for the future. A little prudence is worth all your courage: it may be glorious to overcome a great evil, but the wisest way is to prevent. You despise the Crocodile while he is small and weak; and do not sufficiently consider, that he is a long-lived animal, so 'tis his peculiar property to grow as long as he lives. You see I am a poor, little, feeble creature; yet am I much more terrible to the Crocodile, and more useful to the country, than you are. I attack him in the egg; and while you are contriving for months together, how to get the better of one Crocodile, and all to no purpose, I effectually destroy fifty of them in a day."

VIII. The Ant and the Caterpillar

Intro: The Ant and the Caterpillar is another story of neglect. An ant sees a caterpillar in its slow, furry state and mocks it viciously due to its inadequacies. The caterpillar becomes a butterfly and is then able to scold the ant for being uppity and unkind.

The Fable: As a Caterpillar was advancing very slowly along one of the alleys of a beautiful garden, he was met by a pert lively Ant, who tossing up her head with a scornful air, cried, "Prithee get out of the way, thou poor creeping animal, and do not presume to obstruct the paths of they superiors, by wriggling along the road, and besmearing the walks appropriated to their footsteps. Poor creature! Thou lookest like a thing half made, which Nature not liking, threw by unfinished. I could almost pity thee, methinks; but it is beneath one of my quality to talk to such mean creatures as thou art: and so, poor crawling wretch, adieu."

The humble Caterpillar, struck dumb with this disdainful language, retired, went to work, wound himself up in a silken cell, and at appointed time came out a beautiful Butterfly. Just as he was sallying forth, he observed the scornful Ant passing by, "Proud insect, said he, stop a moment, and learn from the circumstances in which you now see me, never to despise any one for that condition in which Providence has thought fit to place him; as there is none so mean, but may one day, either in this state or in a better, be exalted above those who looked down upon him with unmerited contempt."

Fables in Which Things are Not as They Appear

Analysis: The Tulip and the Rose is the fable of a tulip, jealous of the attention the gardener confers upon the rose. Here the man tending the flowers chastises the tulip, remarking that it is not due to the rose being more beautiful but its fragrance - its character. The Monster in the Sun on the other had tells the tale of a scientist's mistaken discovery. In this story, Dodsley writes, "...the fault perhaps is not in the object, but in the mind of the observer," (Dodsley 43). Both fables clearly follow the idea presented here. It is the fault of the tulip that she is envious and not that of the gardener or rose. It is the tulip that believes she is more beautiful and worthwhile. The scientist discovers a giant space creature in The Monster in the Sun and it is because he wants to find something there, he wants to be famous, he wants to be justified in thinking highly of himself. He was wrong in his assumption because of his perceptions.

With this story of a giant monster, Dodsley also introduces a new idea into his moral works. Here, he begins to ask the question of how objective the senses really are. The scientist sees a sun beast and believes it is there. How much of science is based on this same type of analysis? Sight, sound, touch, and taste are all subjective and so what science teaches may be incorrect. The mind only has the senses to impart 'truth.' Perhaps from asking these questions, the author found the importance of analyzing something from all sides.

IX. The Tulip & The Rose

Intro: The tulip in The Tulip and the Rose is convinced that, because her beauty is equal to that of the rose, her treatment should also be equal. Her treatment is not bad, just lesser than that of the rose, due to her lack of other positive attributes.

The Fable: A tulip and a Rose happened to be near neighbours in the same garden. They were both indeed extremely beautiful: yet the Rose engaged considerably more than an equal share of the Gardener's attention. Enamoured, as in truth he was, of the delicious odour is diffused, he appeared, in the eye of the Tulip, to be always kissing and caressing it. The envy and jealousy of rival beauties are easily to be concealed. The Tulip, vain of its external charms, and unable to bear the thought of being forsaken for another, remonstrated in these words against the Gardener's partiality.

"Why are my beauties thus neglected? Are not my colours more bright, more various, and more inviting, than any which that red-faced Thing has to display? Why then is she to engross your whole affection, and thus for ever to be preferred?"

"Be not dissatisfied," said the Gardener; "I acknowledge thy beauties, and admire them as they deserve. But there are found in my favourite Rose such attractive odours, such internal charms, that I enjoy a banquet in their fragrance, which no mere beauty can pretend to furnish."

X. The Monster in the Sun

Intro: The "monster" in The Monster in the Sun is no more than a fly stuck in a telescope, pointed at the sun. But every scientist until the last one is fooled by this visual trick even though, upon further reflection, the existence of a giant monster inhabiting the majority of the surface of the sun is not feasible.

The Fable: An astronomer was observing the Sun thro' a telescope, in order to take an exact draught of the several spots which appear upon the face of it. While he was intent upon his observations, he was on a sudden surprised with a new and astonishing appearance; a large portion of the surface of the Sun was at once covered by a Monster of enormous size, and horrible form; it had an immense pair of wings, a great number of legs, and a long and vast proboscis; and that it was alive, was very apparent, from its quick and violent motions, which the observer could from time to time plainly perceive. Being sure of the facet (for how could he be mistaken in what he saw so clearly?) our Philosopher began to draw many surprising conclusions from premises so well established. He calculated the magnitude of this extraordinary animal, and found that he covered about two square degrees of the Sun's surface; that placed upon the earth he would spread over half one hemisphere of it; and that he was sever or eight times as big as the Moon. But what was most astonishing, was the prodigious heat that he must endure: it was plain that he was something of the nature of the Salamander, but of a far more fiery temperament: for it was demonstrable from the clearest principles, that in his present situation he must have acquired a degree of heat two thousand times that of red-hot iron. It was a problem worth considering, whether he subsisted upon the gross vapours of the Sun, and so from time to time cleared away those spots which they are perpetually forming and which would otherwise wholly obscure and incrustate its face; or whether it might not feed on the solid substance of the orb itself, which, by this means, together with the constant expence(sic) of light, must soon be exhausted and consumed; Or whether he was not now and then supplied by the falling of some excentric(sic) Comet into the Sun. However this might be, he found by computation that the earth would be but short allowance for him for a few months: and farther, it was no improbable conjecture, that as the earth was destined to be destroyed by fire, this fiery flying Monster would remove hither at the appointed time, and might much more easily and conveniently effect a conflagration, that any Comet hitherto provided for that service. In the earnest pursuit of these, and many the like deep and curious speculations, the Astronomer was engaged, and and was preparing to communicate them to the public. In the mean time, the discovery began to be much talked of; and all the virtuosi gathered together to see so strange a sight. They were equally convinced of the accuracy of the observation, and of the conclusions so clearly deduced from it. At last, one, more cautious than the rest, was resolved, before he gave a full assent to the report of his senses, to examine the whole process of the affair, and all the parts of the instrument; he opened the telescope, and behold! A small Fly was inclosed in it, which having settled on the center of the object-glass, had given occasion to all this marvellous(sic) Theory.

How often do men, through prejudice and passion, through envy and malice, fix upon the brightest and most exalted character the grossest and most improbable imputations? It behoves us upon our guard, and to suspend our judgments; the fault perhaps is not in the object, but in the mind of the observer.

Fables Citing the Values or Dangers of Consideration

Analysis: In the early 1900's a person's conduct spoke lengths about their character. It was with this in mind that Dodsley must have written Love and Folly and The Sensitive Plant and the Thistle. Both tales stress the importance of polite social interaction. For example, the fable of Love and Folly suggests that the two gods did indeed love each other, although Folly may not have known how to best show it. Zeus sentenced them to wander the earth together endlessly, an unfit punishment if their crime was love. A passage from the story reads, "Jupiter, willing to clear the heavens of such troublesome company, called both parties before him, and inquired into their conduct," (Dodsley 51). Jupiter disciplined the two solely for the disturbance they created in heaven. On a much smaller scale, the thistle was also thrown away for its disturbance in the garden. In Olympia and the garden, places of tranquility, something demanding care and attention through an offensive presence would not be allowed. Love, Folly, and the thistle were discarded quickly in the attempt to return to the status quo as rapidly as possible. Those that stood back quietly like the sensitive plant were left unscathed and also somewhat protected.

XI. The Sensitive plant and the Thistle

Intro: In The Sensitive-Plant and the Thistle, the thistle is inconsiderate and abrasive. He asks why the sensitive plant is contrastingly quiet and reserved. As he is asking that, a gardener comes along weeding and pulls the thistle out of the ground. The sensitive plant's modesty served to save her life.

Fable: A thistle happened to spring up very near to a Sensitive-Plant. The former observing the extreme bashfulness and delicacy of the latter, addressed her in the following manner.

"Why are you so modest and reserved, my good neighbour(sic), as to withdraw your at the approach of strangers? Why do you shrink as if you were afraid, from the touch of every hand? Take example and advice from me: If I liked not their familiarity, I would make them keep their distance, nor should any saucy finger provoke me unrevenged."

"Our tempers and qualities," replied the other, "are widely different: I have neither the ability nor inclination to give offence(sic): you, it seems, are by no means destitute of either> My desire is to live peaceably in the station wherein I was placed and tho' my humility may now and then cause me a moment's uneasiness, it tends on the whole to preserve my tranquility. The case is otherwise with you, whose irritable temper, and revengeful disposition, will probably, one time or other, be the cause of your destruction."

While they were thus arguing the point, the Gardener came with his little spaddle, in order to lighten the earth round the stem of the Sensitive-Plant; but perceiving the Thistle, he thrusts his instrument thro' the root of it, and tossed it out of his garden.

XII: Love and Folly

Intro: In Love and Folly, love is good and kind until folly sways him to break the rules, change himself, and neglect his duties. For this, they are both severely punished, indicating that, if you have considerate, appropriate impulses naturally, it is dumb and dangerous to be changed by someone who does not.

The Fable: In the most early state of things, and among the eldest of beings, existed that God, as the poets entitle him, or rather that Daemon, as Plato calls him, whose name is Love. He was assisting to the Father of the Gods, in reducing chaos into order, in establishing the harmony of the universe, and in regulating and putting in execution the laws; by which the operations of nature and performed, and the frame of the world subsists. Universal good seemed to be his only study, and he was the supreme delight both of Gods and men. But in process of time, among other disorders that arose in the universe, it appeared that Love began to deviate very often from what had seemed till now to be his chief pursuit: he would raise frequent disturbances and confusion in the course of nature; though it was always under the pretence(sic) of maintaining order ad agreement. It seems he had entered into a very intimate acquaintance with person who had but lately made her appearance in the world. This person was Folly, the daughter of Pride and Ignorance. They were often together, and as often as they were, some mischief was sure to be the consequence. By degrees he introduced her into the heavens; where it was their great joy by various artifices to lead the Gods into such measures as involved them in many inconveniences, and exposed them to much ridicule. They deluded them all in their turns, except Minerva, the only divinity that escaped their wiles. Even Jupiter himself was induced by them to take some steps not at all suitable to the dignity of his character. Folly had gotten the entire ascendant over her companion; however, she was resolved to make still more sure of him, and engross him wholly to herself: with this design she infused a certain intoxicating juice into his nectar, the effects of which were so powerful, that in the end it utterly deprived him of his sight. Love was too much prejudiced in her favour, to apprehend her to be the cause of his misfortune; nor indeed did he seem to be in the least sensible of his condition. But his mother Venus soon found it out: and in the excess of her grief and rage carried her complaint to Jupiter, conjuring him to punish the Sorceress who had blinded her son. Jupiter, willing to clear the heavens of such troublesome company, called both parties before him, and inquired into their conduct. After a full hearing, he determined, that Folly should make some sort of reparation for the injury done to Love; and being resolved to punish both for the many irregularities which they had lately introduced, he condemned Love to wander about the earth, and ordered Folly to be his guide.

Appendix of Morals

I. The blessing of hope is better adapted to the state of mortals, than the gift of prescience.
II. Folly, passing with men for wisdom, makes each contented with his own share of understanding.
III. Gravity, tho’ sometimes the mien of wisdom, is often found to be the mask of ignorance.
IV. The greatest merit is often concealed under the most unpromising appearances.
V. An immoderate poursuit(sic) of pleasure is generally destructive of its object.
VI. The parade and ceremony belonging to the great are often a restraint upon their freedom and activity.
VII. We conquer many evils at first with facility, which being long neglected become insurmountable.
VIII. Boys of no very promising appearance often become the greatest men.
IX. External beauty will often captivate; but 'tis internal merit that secures the conquest.
X. The fault we many times impute to a character, is only to be found in the mind of the observer.
XI. Both a mild disposition, and a vindictive temper, generally meet with suitable returns.
XII. Folly has often too great an influence in the direction of our amours.

Thank you for reading and (hopefully) enjoying this republication. If you'd like, you can view the original project at:

http://people.brandeis.edu/~time/fables/index.php

Three Scenes in the South by C.B. Parsons

2008-05-03T05:54:00.000-07:00

A Republishing Effort by

Nicole Gleyzer, Abby Levitsky, Jake Devereaux, Maggie Korn, Kendra Fortmeyer

Three Scenes in the South: Revealed

By Nicole Gleyzer

When Professor Plotz assigned a group project requiring each team to dig up an obscure or forgotten short story written before 1860 and “re-publish” it, I have to admit I was a little apprehensive. How would we choose an interesting story? From when and where should this story originate? Could we find compelling information about its author and the circumstances of its publication? How would we present this work in a way that befits its original form? How will people access it? The answer to these questions and more will be revealed in this behind the scenes look at the republishing of “Three Scenes in the South,” by C. B. Parsons.

We began our project by meeting in the Goldfarb library at Brandeis University; As a group we perused the multitudes of physical archives that reside there. As we walked through the stacks and flipped through the giant volumes, we quickly realized that we may have started our search for the perfect story too broadly. Everyone in the group had vague notions of what they thought could be interesting an interesting topic, with no one quite sure of the exact specifics of what they wanted, therefore we made the decision to divide and conquer. Each of us would find a story that we would nominate as a possible candidate for further investigation, then as a group we would make a final decision.

I set out to find this story by first narrowing down the incredibly expansive domain of possibilities I had before me. I based my criteria on my personal interests as well as common themes that had been explored in class. In our curriculum for class to that point we had not read a great deal of stories originating in America. Having grown up in the South, I knew that there was a fertile history of southern writers dating back to the era in question that I could draw on. I also considered the fact that many of the stories that had inspired the most discussion and enthusiasm in class were those that contained salacious or gruesome subject matters. The last piece of the search came from my interest in finding some female authors, which ultimately lead me to this story although it was written by a man. Based on these assumptions I searched the prose section of the Literature Online Fulltext database with the following criteria: keyword-murderer, female authors, 1840-1860, in the American Romantic Period. As I began browsing through I came across a collection of stories edited by Alice Carey called The Adopted Daughter: and Other Tales which contained a story entitled Three Scenes in the South. The story itself had many hits for the word “murderer”; however what finally led us to choose it over the other possibilities was that it was an extremely obscure, entertaining, and heavy-handed form of the traditional moral tales we had been studying in class. Its obscurity may have been caused by it originally being published in a “Keepsake”-esque volume, therefore by republishing it as an individual piece we would be expanding on the story’s impact and fleshing out its context.

Once the subject of our republishing effort was chosen the real work began. Decisions had to be made on the format and shape our republished work would take. Using the paperbacks we read weekly in class as the inspiration, we decided that we wanted a physically-bound book that could be made available to students through the library or distributed by professors. It was not until after the project was complete that we endeavored to make its availability global by publishing our work on the World Wide Web. Having decided to make a hard copy, we divided the elements of republishing this work amongst ourselves. Each group member received one of the following tasks: I was given the introduction, Abby Levitsky the note on the text, Kendra Fortmayer the literary criticism, Jake Devereaux a glossary of unfamiliar terms, and Maggie Korn the illustrations. Once a section was complete it was submitted to me; I formatted the document, as well as annotated the actual text of the story, to create a streamline style that could be bound using a report cover that matched the cover page’s color scheme. The beautiful artwork was placed in the volume at the appropriate points within the story, and was also used as the front and back cover art as well. The finished product had looked something like a magazine, with the content of republished classic text.

The Final Product

The creation of these sections was not without its trials and tribulations. I was assigned the Introduction in which I explored the identity of the author as well as the context through which he wrote and published his work. I began my process of writing this mini-biography with thorough research, research that had a very difficult start. C. B. Parsons, as it turned out, seemed to have lived several lives. And in each life he lived he went by a different version of his name. This proved most problematic when searching for information via internet sources, as search engines are not sophisticated enough to process “C.B. Parsons and all incarnations thereof” as a term. My first goal was to discover what C.B. signified. I did a Google search of the name in quotations, and one of the results was a Google Book published in 1859 called The Methodist Pulpit in which a “C.B. Parsons D.D.” had published an essay on “The Divinity of the Church.” The first piece of the puzzle was found, he was a Methodist minister in the Revival movement just before the civil war. However this text did not deliver his full name, so I ran another search with added “D.D.” and found a website detailing information about his life and death entitled, “Genealogical Abstracts from Reported Deaths: The Nashville Christian Advocate,” in which it stated he was born in Enfield, CT. These new search criteria led me to several biographical sources that gave me the missing details to complete my research on a “Charles Booth Parsons.” This full name allowed me to find many sources detailing the exploits of a traveling stage actor, a born-again revivalist reverend, and even a well-off benefactor to his several children.

Discovering the details of this man’s fascinating life truly helped to illuminate the circumstances and context through which this otherwise bizarre story was written. Although I did not find another work of literature by the author, reading his essays on the church and nature of man definitely allowed for me to better understand who this man was and what his story was conveying. Republishing this story was a valuable exercise from both a literary and historical standpoint. By placing the story in complete context we also allow the reader to gain more enrichment from reading it than if they simply stumbled across it while perusing an archive. By having the whole story of the story, so to speak, readers can take away from this work more than just the message that seeking something “a bit stronger” leads to ruin, but also a in-depth understanding of how people of that time obtained literature, what types of stories were popular, and why these tales were written and by who.

This new incarnation of an old work of literature allows the piece not to be lost forever in the passing of time. By making this story accessible and expanding on its context through research and analysis, we are not only drawing attention to this specific story but the genre and time period in general. Future readers of this project may be intrigued by the form of the moral tale, the idea of a “Keepsake” volume that was passed through generations, or the culture of Revivalism in the South and therefore seek out further information on those topics.

To that end, this project also stands as a testament to the modern availability of information to those who seek it. The republication of Three Scenes in the South could not have been possible without the at times seemingly infinite resources of the internet. Access to the hard work of other researchers and archivists across the country makes in-depth research of a man and story from a century and a half ago not only possible, but fruitful. For that reason it is important that this research continue to develop and thrive, so that future generations have quality access to their past.

By republishing this project on the internet, via this blog, it is now available to be linked and viewed by educational centers across the world. In the original hard-copy format of our republication a limited number of eyes would have had access to the work; however, through this website it will be available to every person with internet access. Making this story available beyond our small classroom may one day allow future students or short story enthusiasts to Google “C.B. Parsons,”“Revivalist literature,” or “moral tales” and be taken directly to this information. By republishing well researched pieces of literature in this manner we are helping to bridge the gap between knowledge and knowledge seekers.

Introduction

The Stage

Charles Booth “C.B.” Parsons was born in Enfield, Connecticut on July 23, 1805, the oldest of four children. At the age of fifteen, his father’s death prompted him to move to Albany, New York in order to begin earning a living on his own and to help support his family. In Albany he worked as a “store boy” until he found his first real passion, acting. He spent fifteen years of his life acting on the Albany stages, as well as with performance troops that traveled across the South. The qualities of his performances were subject to mixed reviews. One reviewer called him a “very bad actor, who sometimes played tragedy” and even went on to scathingly write:

The actor was playing an engagement at the Louisville theatre, and if we may believe the report of the affair, the building was crowded to excess, to witness his performance of Othello. (If Parsons drew crowded houses, Louisvillains could not have been very particular about their tragedy.) (Phelps)

However there are also several biographic sources that cite him as “an actor of the highest reputation” or claimed that “all agreed that he was a great actor; many thought him a ‘star.’” Regardless of his acting prowess, while working on a production of Othello in Louisville, Kentucky (at the height of his acting career) he underwent a psychological and spiritual change that transformed his life. At a meeting of the Methodist Episcopal Church, under Rev. John Newland Maffit he felt a divine presence and converted, further renouncing his former profession and not even finishing his commitment at the time to Othello. He gave his first sermon that very day, to those hoping to persuade him to return to the stage that night. Skeptics of his experience said that he only did this to make money; however his net worth at the time was near “$70,000 or $80,000, and he only aspired to be a local preacher, to which office no salary is attached.”

The Pulpit

After only returning to the stage for a brief two year stint, for which he was contractually obligated, he spent a year preaching during a probationary period until on September 15, 1841 he was admitted on trial to the traveling connection, an organization of traveling evangelical revivalists. Soon after he was ordained a deacon and then an elder in the Methodist Church, and eventually was given a Doctor of Divinity by the board of curators of St. Charles College, Missouri. He did several two year stints at churches across the Midwest and the South, notably in St. Louis, Cincinnati, Louisville, Tennessee, and Missouri. However he was best received on the road, working with the revival movement. Upon the breakout of the Civil War and his support of the Confederate effort, he returned to his mother Methodist Church in Kentucky.

It was said of him, “[He] pierced the highest heaven of oratory possible to him; and brethren who came with high opinions left with religious admiration; brethren who came to be cool spectators left all aglow with enthusiasm; brethren who came to criticize saw the icy rules which they had set up thawed down by warm tears; and, what is not worst of all, some who came to give twenty-five cents, sooth to say, gave about twenty-five dollars.” (Young) His personality, presence and emotions carried over to his writings. The majority of his published works were sermons he had given and then put to paper. “Man’s Re-creation, God’s Idea” published in a collection of sermons enititled Unity by the Unity School of Christianity, and “The Divinity of the Church” published in The Methodist Pulpit were among his most famous. He also acted as an associate editor of one of the church newspapers for several years. This rare short story embodies all that he was purported to be,

In him were combined all the requisites of the true orator-great emotion, passion, a correct judgment of human nature, genius, fancy, imagination, gesture, attitude, intonation, and countenance, with a commanding presence, all united in blended strength to accomplish the mighty purpose which moved his heart. He earnestly spoke the truth of God's holy word, relying on the divine arm for help. He preached as a dying man to dying men, as in the presence of God and the judgment-seat. He fearlessly pronounced the threatening of the law, probed with a bold hand the sinner's heart, and in much assurance and with the power of the Holy Ghost declared the whole message of God. (Redford)

At the time of this story’s publication he was made presiding elder of East Louisville District, comprising several churches and circuits, and also named regular pastor of the Walnut Street Church. “It may be observed that this church was erected under the administration of Dr. Parsons, and that he was at different times its pastor, greatly beloved by the people” (Perrin). His dealings with the ongoings of small town life may have further inspired him to write this piece.

Personal Life

Dr. C.B. Parsons D.D. married Emily C. Oldham of Jefferson County, KY. They had seven children, although tragically only five survived to adulthood, the grief from which could have inspired some of his sermons and writings. He died December 8, 1871 upon returning home from the dedication of a church in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania of heart disease.

Bibliography

(1904). The Kentucky Law Reporter. Frankfort, KY, Geo A. Lewis Publisher. 25-Part II.

Davenport, F. G. (1939). "Culture Versus Frontier in Tennessee 1825-1850." The Journal of Southern History 5(1): 18-33.

Parsons, C. B. (1859). “Three Scenes in the South.” The Adopted Daughter: and Other Tales. A. Cary. Philadelphia, J.B. Smith & Co.

Parsons, C. B. (1926). “Man's Re-creation, God's Idea.” Unity, Unity School of Christianity. 64.

Perrin, Battle, et al. (1888). Kentucky: A History of the State, Jefferson Co. 8th ed.

Phelps, H. P. (1880). Players of the Century: A Record of the Albany Stage. Including Notices of Prominent Actors who have appeared in America Albany, Joseph McDonough.

Redford D.D., A. H. (1876). Western Cavaliers: Embracing the history of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Kentucky from 1832 to 1844. Nashville, TN, Southern Methodist Publishing House.

Rev. Charles F. Deems, D. D. (1856). Annals of Sothern Methodism for 1855. New York, J.A. Gray's Fire-proof Printing Office.

Risso “Charles Booth Parsons as Caius Silius.” University of Illinois Theatrical Print Collection.

Smith, J. K. T. (2003). "Genealogical Abstracts from Reported Deaths the Southwestern Christian Advocate 1838-1846."   Retrieved 3/26/08, from http://www.tngenweb.org/records/davidson/obits/swca/swca-09.htm.

Smithson, W. T. (1859). The Methodist Pulpit. Washington, D.C., Methodist Episcopal Church South.

Young, R. A. (1855). “The Converted Actor”. Celebrities and Less (European and American). Nashville, TN, Publishing House of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South

Note on the Text

Three Scenes in the South originally appeared in an anthology of short stories entitled The Adopted Daughter, by Alice Carey, and Other Tales. The volume contains over fifty stories by various authors. Most of these authors are women, like Alice and her sister, Phoebe Carey. The Carey sisters each have multiple stories included in this anthology. The volume seems meant for a female audience, featuring titles referencing daughters, sisters, and even one that reads “Female Pioneers of the West.” In the copy that we have worked with in our re-publishing, the original owner scrawled the name “Emma Forbes” in pencil on the inside cover, and beneath it, the addition “Emma Forbes, now Mrs. Emma Foster.” This book may have been a wedding gift, or perhaps a book cherished throughout many stages of this woman’s life. In any case, it seems clear that this is the sort of lifetime use that The Adopted Daughter and Other Tales was meant for.

Our republishing of Three Scenes of the South takes C. B. Parsons’ story out of the context of its original printing. We have reprinted it in its own volume, and included a close reading of its text. This allows the reader to focus more carefully on how this story relates in a wider context without the connection to its original audience.

The table of contents of The Adopted Daughter and Other Tales exhibits many stories with clearly moralizing titles. Many address the dangers of intemperance regarding alcohol, as in Three Scenes in the South, as well as other forms of hedonism. The heading of the last page carries the words “Women and Temperance,” which I think sums up the message of the entire compilation. C. B. Parsons only contributed one story to this anthology, but it fits quite well with the theme. On the last page of the book, the final tale concludes with the question “And now […] I have to ask you, if the temperance men are to be laughed at as fanatics, for the great exertions which they have made to remove the terrible sin of intemperance, as a general evil from the land?” (368) The answer offered by The Adopted Daughter and Other Tales is a clear, a resounding no. The book leaves little doubt as to how admirable the “temperance men” are and how crucial they are to the salvation of others from the evils of excess.

To elaborate on the moral in Three Scenes of the South, we have written a new preface that expounds on the life of the author. C. B. Parsons was a Methodist evangelist minister, so his own life and beliefs must have influenced his writing. The other things that we have added to this new edition of Three Scenes of the South are a glossary of terms that have become archaic since the story’s original printing, and new illustrations. This story did not originally contain illustrations; however, many anthologies of short stories from the nineteenth century did. We have decided to illustrate Three Scenes of the South in this style. This new publishing will make many elements of Parsons’ story more clear to the contemporary reader, and will make a beautiful addition to anyone’s library.

Literary Criticism

The Unsubtle Sermon: Moral Force in

“Three Scenes From the South”

It is hard to argue that C.B. Parsons’ tale “Three Scenes in the South” is much more than a sermon on the evils of intemperance. Published in 1859, the story follows the life of a family wrenched apart by “the hideous demon of the Still” (The Adopted Daughter and Other Tales, 93). Like the sermons that won Parsons, an evangelist minister from Kentucky, his fame, “Three Scenes in the South” strives principally to hammer home a moral point, with small and scattered windows of sermonizing dotting the storied landscape.

The story arc of the “Three Scenes” is as follows: after learning the backstory of the main character, Wilton, the narrator and a friend approach his home and make the acquaintance of Wilton, his wife and his infant child. A hint of Wilton’s fondness for liquor at the end of the first scene, “The Cottage,” sets up the second, “The Contrast.” This scene, which takes place seven years later, details the narrator’s return to the village after a long absence during which he learns of Wilton’s extreme transformation under the influence of alcohol. The final scene, fittingly titled “The Catastrophe,” consists of a neighbor’s account of Wilton’s brutal murder of his child, and accidental suicide. The woeful tale concludes with Wilton’s funeral, when Wilton’s disapproving father-in-law appears and Wilton’s widow dies (presumably of shock, though a cause is never explicitly named).

This descent into sin is mirrored in the setting of Parsons’ tale, a theme made explicit by the movement from North to South in the opening scene. “The Cottage” begins: “Much has been written and said, and deservedly too, of the beauty and gracefulness of New-England towns and villages” (87). From there, the narrator expounds on the particular brand of beauty espoused by the “land of the Pilgrims” (87): New England is described as “clean” (87), “nice” (87), a land of “moral thrift” (87) which is “worthy of praise” (87). The imagery feels strongly connected to the Puritans: very “prim and precise” (87) and “exclusive” (87); Wilton later describes the North as “sterile” (91). From this rigid world of morals and moderation the reader is transported to the South. Parsons’ South is “unrestricted” (87), “gorgeous and grand” (87), is a land of heat and excess and, on some level, deviance: even the plants “embrace” (88), their scents “sweetly intermingle” (88), and the shade they cast is “delicious” (88). Parsons is quick to reference Heaven in his description, but the Garden of Eden seems more appropriate to the sensual setting of Wilton’s fall.

This fall is never far from the author’s mind; as a sermonizer, Parsons is loathe to let the reader forget the protagonist’s impending doom. Wilton and his downfall are introduced nearly in the same breath: the first mention of him, a “highly educated young man, of many noble virtues” (88) is followed in the very next sentence by an allusion to how the “beginning of circumstances was made, which ultimately involved much misery and more crime” (89). The reader is scarcely given a chance to believe in Wilton as a character before learning he is the vehicle for an unhappy moral. More extreme yet is Parsons’ treatment of Wilton’s daughter, whose death is actually announced before the girl herself even exists: “an envious fate stood ready, to cast the life-drops of a daughter slain in the moment of triumph” (89). Little Alice is virtually dead on arrival, reduced to a symbol of piteousness. Later, Wilton’s wife is just as casually disposed of in service of the tragic plot. It is clear that the characters themselves are less important than their fates. And why not? It is the latter that enforces Parsons’ pro-temperance moral.

The story thunders towards its dreadful conclusion, dotted with frequent enough repetitions of Wilton’s ominous preference for “something a little stronger” (92) (the full phrase is repeated six times in twelve pages) that the sentiment cannot possibly slip the reader’s mind. In light of this, and the announcement of the little daughter’s death, the narrator’s reference to “dim fore-shadowings of the future” (94) seems almost humorous: very little of the story’s foreshadowing can be called “dim.”

Though Parsons’ method is hardly subtle, it is effective: the whole world of the story takes on an incredibly evil tint as the tale draws to a close. The Southern landscape, so luscious in the introduction, is transformed from a gorgeous Garden of Eden to a Hell: on the dawn of the day of the narrator’s discovery of Wilton’s crime, “the sun rose murky and red, and as with swollen face, he peeped forth from the chambers of the east,---looked more like a drunken sluggard” (94). The whole world reflects and reinforces what is to come: the cottage, soon to be the site of a gory murder, is described as a “tomb ruin” (96), and the magnolia trees around it had been felled by the axe which will slay Wilton’s child. Under the light of this red sky, the horrific transformation of Wilton from a kind young man to a “frenzied soul” (102) who murders his offspring and attempts to kill his wife seems, if not wholly believable, then at least terrifying.

And so, hardly surprisingly, the characters fall: little Alice’s murder appropriately demonstrates the base evils of alcohol, and Wilton’s own death serves as his punishment. The tale swells to a roaring moral conclusion, even killing off Wilton’s wife to round out the tragedy (the appearance of the long-absent and disapproving father figure is likely a reference to the Christian God). The sermonizing tale seems absolutely final and absolutely bleak—or does it? Parsons offers his reader a few hints of how to avoid poor Wilton’s fate.

The first and most glaringly obvious is temperance: though Wilton claims the very idea of enforced temperance “is humiliating, and unworthy the dignity of intelligent manhood” (92), his fate makes it all too clear that his is a path best not followed. But the minister drops other hints of salvation along the way: though he never specifically advocates the Puritanism of the North, Parsons seems keen on the idea of moderation. “How strange a world is this, where the quality of joys and sorrows are so assorted to
each other. Little joys are modified with little griefs, but great transports must be rebuked by great suffering” (89) the narrator reflects early in the tale. The message is clear: to avoid great suffering, one must avoid partaking overmuch in joys (such as, one must think, the false joy in drink). And if that fails, one can always turn to God: “…we had sought the retirement of our chamber and communion with God. ‘He is our refuge,’ and always ‘a present help in trouble’” (99).

Countless such lessons and mini-lectures are scattered throughout the tale: “How truly it is said, that ‘virtue does not always meet its just reward in this bad world,’" (93) the narrator comments, and of course, there is the omnipresent "And all this misery… is the fruit of that one error,---the liking of `something a little stronger" (96). But in the end, the story works more than hard enough to reinforce its own moral without additional sermonizing, as death and foreboding drip from nearly every sentence. Few readers, it may be imagined, would reach so sanguinely for the brandy after reading about Wilton’s “bloated face and blood-shot eyes” (97), or the horrifying triple demise that haunts the story’s end. Parsons’ moral agenda is easily fulfilled and, given the strict moral structure of the tale, the allegorical nature of his characters, and the frequent interludes of mini-sermons, it seems unlikely he had any other in writing “Three Scenes From the South.”

Three Scenes in the South

By C.B. Parsons

Scene I. The Cottage

Much has been written and said, and deservedly too, of the beauty and gracefulness of New- England towns and villages. The uniform white painted walls of their houses, their regular
walks and avenues, with their clean fields and nice "home lots," all indicative in no small degree, of intellectual training and moral thrift, are sure to attract the attention of the traveler, and are worthy of all praise. But this state of things is not confined alone to the land of the Pilgrims,---the soil of chivalry, also boasts of the beautiful and picturesque. The villas and verandahs of the South, interspersed as they are with orange groves and magnolia forests, though not so prim₁ and precise, are more gorgeous and grand; and, compared with the North, show as the unrestricted expanse of the magnificent sun-flower, to the trim-built and exclusive little buttercup. We remember a cottage scene of the South; and though years have passed since the events transpired, which we are about to record, there are those living, in the green of whose memories they will ever remain---so strong is the impress of woe upon the tables of the mind.

In the lovely village of H---, where it was our good fortune to be some time resident, in the year 184---, and just at the turn of the Big Road, which stretches down the Bay on towards the Gulf, stood a beautiful cottage, built after the style of the Peninsula, in the age of Cervantes. A venerable grove of magnolias, more gorgeous than Acedemus ever dreamed of, spread their arms to each other above, and embracing together, canopied the place. The broad white blossom in summer, and the perpetual green of winter, of these monarchs of the woods, not only filled the surrounding atmosphere with the most delicious odors, while they closed in the whole area above with umbrageous₂ and unbroken shade, but furnished the beholder, at every elevation of the eye, a fadeless remembrance and emblem, of the imperishable life of hope---that hope, which as
a heavenly cynosure₃, leads the Christian to the contemplation of things beyond this suffering vale. In the midst of this gorgeous clump of evergreens, and in happy contrast, rose the white walls of the "Spanish Cottage." It was a lovely scene to look upon. Without, and in splendid profusion, festoonings₄ of running rose, eglantine₅ and honeysuckle, sweetly intermingling
together, entwined the pillars and draped the porches; while within, the richer elegance of intellectual culture and moral worth, adorned the place. The fields were carpeted with flowers of every hue, and the air rung merrily, with the songs of birds. It was such a picture as hateaubriand describes, as peculiar to the great valley of the South. This was the residence of old Mr. Wilton, who had now been dead about two years, leaving his son William, who was his only child, the sole heir and possessor of his sufficient fortune. The estate had formerly belonged to the Spanish agent, Sir William Dunbar, a noble gentleman, who was an intimate friend of Mr. Wilton, and in
honor of whom William was named. Young Wilton was a highly educated young man, of many noble virtues---generous, charitable and brave, and seemed to emulate the distinguished qualities of heart and mind, of both his father and his patron. He had been, during the years of his novitiate₆, a student at one of the eastern universities, where he had graduated with the first honors of his class; and where, as the sequel will show the beginning of circumstances was made, which ultimately involved much misery and more crime. In the same hour of his high college honors, and ere he had descended from the platform of his achievements, a letter bearing the impress of a black seal, was handed him by the janitor. The superscription was in a strange hand. Tremblingly, and with fearful foreboding, he broke the envelope, and read,---his brain reeled with the shock,---his father was dead! How strange a world is this, where the quality of joys and sorrows are so assorted to each other. Little joys are modified with little griefs, but great
transports must be rebuked by great suffering. Into the cup of ecstacy, just about to be quaffed by the Roman Father, an envious fate stood ready, to cast the life-drops of a daughter slain in the moment of triumph, by a victorious brother's hand.

With a saddened heart, young Wilton, turned his footsteps towards his home in the South, where now his presence was imperiously₇ demanded. A warm welcome from the two old domestics greeted his arrival, but a father's smile of approbation₈, that boon which he had so calculated upon, and for which he had toiled, had been stricken away. All that was now left, was to pay the tribute of a tear at his father's grave, and look about himself for his future course. This he speedily adjusted, and having given a few brief orders, was soon on his way again for the North---gossip said to select a partner for life's mazy dance, with whom to share the joys and sorrows of his cottage home. In this instance the old dame of many tongues told the truth; for he soon returned again, and bearing with him his beautiful and accomplished bride, the elegant daughter of the honorable Mr. B---. Rumor says the match was a rash one--- on the lady's part---that her parents were bitterly opposed to it, on the score of prejudice against the South, and that to accomplish their purpose the young couple were compelled to elope₉. Be that as it may, it was now near two years since their settlement in the cottage, and by common consent they were the happiest people in all this region, especially among the poorer classes, they have been idolized; with whom the lady is an angel of mercy, and the gentleman a benefactor of his race.

"But come," said our friend, "as we are so near the cottage, let us extend our walk little, and pay them a morning call. It will be pleasant to make the acquaintance of this interesting family. This is the place."

"Good morning, Mr. Wilton; a pleasant morning, sir;" said we.

"Good morning,---good morning, sirs," was his reply.

"Yes, sirs, a delightful Southern morning. Come, sirs, sans ceremonie, walk in and rest you a bit; I am glad to see you both, and feel no little honored by this early visit. Your drowsy, after-dinner visiations, may do for loungers, who, overcome with spiritual ennui₁₀ , study more sedulously how to kill time, than ever Archimedes did to solve his great problem; but for me, there is more music in the notes of the lark than in the song of the cricket."

"You are right, sir," said we; "and your taste, in this regard, well accord with our own. But there's another to be consulted in this matter, I think; perhaps the madam might not fancy to see company at this early hour."

"O, yes,' said he, smiling, "my wife is myself in that respect; and indeed, in almost every other. Our love-path, it is true, was not as smooth, perhaps, as it might have been, but when it widened into wedlock, it was equal to the famous `shell-road' When we married, we two `were no longer

twain₁₁ but one flesh.' She would consider the hour a little out of season perhaps, if she was, at her father's, in the far `downeast' country, but with us here, in the sunny South, we shake off many of those arbitrary notions of upper-crust-dom, (which, by the way, are sometimes a little `done brown,' by our baking,) and in place thereof we have untrammeled₁₂ intercourse and enjoyment with our friends at all hours. Isn't it so, wife? I beg pardon, Alice, this is our friend, Mr. P--- from
Kentucky, with Mr. --- from the village; this is Mrs. Wilton, gentlemen."

We bowed, and he went on.

"I often thought," said he, "while resident in the North, in the family of Dr. Birch and Professor Hickory, that compared with the sans-souci and wreathy ease of our Southern homes, the image of their manners was like a figure of snow, with icicle trimmings."

"Come, come," said we, "you must not be too severe upon the manners and customs of the cold land, because you are so snug and warm here in the South; recollect, you gathered
the loveliest flower you ever saw, in that sterile clime."

"Thank you, sir," said the lady, slightly coloring.

"I acknowledge the compliment," said he, bowing, and casting a glace of unmingled affection upon his gentle wife; "but you see, even that blossom, so perfect and so good, had to be transplanted to a southern soil before it could mature into fruitfulness; don't you see," said he, laughing, "the richness and beauty of our southern production;" and he pointed to a lovely babe of near a year old, who was quietly sleeping upon its mother's lap.

"You must not mind Mr. Wilton," said she, recovering a little from the confusion which the last remark had occasioned, "he don't mean half he says about the coldness of the North, for he knows full well that some of his happiest hours were spent there."

"That's true, Alice," said he; "and I will never forget them: no---never."

"O, I don't mind him," said I, "nor will my friend here. We rejoice to see you so delightfully situated and so happy. May no blighting spirit ever cross your threshold to mar your felicity.₁₃"

"God grant it," said Wilton; while a respondent tear glistened in the eye of the wife, and told the deep interest she felt in the subject.

"But come," said Wilton, "before you go you must take a glass of wine, or brandy if you prefer it, and pledge our young and promising household. I suppose the Temperance folk have not got hold of you yet?" They tried a little after me once---it was some time since, when I was at Cincinnati--- but they soon discovered it was no go to follow that trail. That man Gough, though, did come mighty near hooking me, at one time, and Genl. Garey at another, but I shook them off. By the way, these Temperance associations seem to me, to be, not only unnecessary and unreasonable, but they strike at the most manly prerogative of human constituency---liberty. I cannot think with complacency, even upon the invitation, to sign away my freedom, much less upon the act itself. As if a man needed a conservator to keep his moral machinery checked and balanced, lest it should run wild. The very thought is humiliating, and unworthy the dignity of intelligent manhood. But come, what shall it be---wine, water, brandy? What you will; take your choice; but for my part, I like something a little stronger."

Water was the beverage of our pledge, of course, but he drank brandy. We said farewell, and turned away from that beautiful cottage and happy family; but for days and weeks, that "something a little stronger," haunted our mind, and seemed to predict, that it would one day prove the "strong man armed," that would destroy their peace for ever. Poor Wilton!

Scene II. The Contrast

How truly it is said, that "virtue does not always meet its just reward in this bad world," where the honest, the excellent and the noble, are as likely to be made the quarry of an insidious and subtle foe, as the base, the worthless and the vile. Nature's universal characteristic, is mutation; change, is written upon all things. It is a common duty therefore, dictated as well by safety, as by happiness, to watch with exceeding carefulness, in order that moral progress may lead from good to better,---else, through carelessness and temptation, its tendencies may be, in an opposite direction. About seven years after the period of the previous chapter, it was our fortune, again to visit the sunny land, where

“The notes of the wild Thrush, ring through the brake, And the Nightingale sings in the grove"

Just as the sun was sinking to rest, wrapt and pillowed by one of those red and portentous₁₄ hazes, peculiar to the south in the vernal₁₅ season of the year, we found ourselves once more entering the pleasant village of H---.

We had almost forgotten the happy family of the Wiltons, whom we knew on our first pilgrimage south,---but as we had several acquaintances in the village and some among them remembered our former visit to the cottage,---especially the friend who accompanied us on that memorable morning, it was not long before their name was introduced. We were anxious to hear of their welfare, and yet we knew not why, we felt a sad foreboding that all was not right there. That "something a little stronger," came back again with the name, and assumed, in the mirror of the mind, the hideous demon of the Still---glancing and gloating upon his victims. To-morrow morning, said our friend, we will resume again our early walk, of seven years ago, in the direction of what was then the beautiful Spanish Cottage; but strange changes have been rung upon the bells of life, from that day to this. Poor Wilton!---but I will not anticipate---you shall see and judge for yourself. "Do you remember your remark then, about the strong man armed?" "Yes," said we, perfectly; the vision has been with us a hundred times. "Well," said he, significantly, he has been there, sure enough. How strange is the philosophy of life. Moments, sometimes, make impressions upon the mind which years of oblivion can never efface₁₆ or obliterate. By the dim fore-shadowings of the future, such seemed to be the character of events, which the coming day was to evolve.

The next morning, the sun rose murky and red, and as with swollen face, he peeped forth from the chambers of the east,--- looked more like a drunken sluggard, forced forth from his rest to his task, than the coming up of a cheerful bride-groom, or as "a strong man, rejoicing to run a race." We were soon on our way towards the cottage. "Come said we, tell us of the ruin which has befallen the---what's that?"

"O nothing," said he "but the distant croaking of a family of Ravens, which have singularly enough taken up their abode among the magnolias at the cottage. Their hoarse notes have filled the air of late, to the no little annoyance of the neighbors; many of whom are superstitious enough to think it ominous of evil. They say the croaking of the raven, indicates the shedding of blood; but I have no belief for such things."

"You remember the time when Wilton made us drink with him, and pledge his family, when we drank water, and he "liked something a little stronger?"

"Yes; I remember it as a thing of yesterday."

"Well, that `liking' never left him, but grew upon him, without abatement₁₇, until, as with bands of iron, it bound him an abject slave, and it is Forever. He soon became a confirmed drunkard; though for a year or two, while his fortune held up his wild-orgies, his debauches₁₈ and his abuses were chiefly confined to his own cottage, where, as far as possible, they were concealed by his amiable wife from the public view. But as his means became scant, his vice grew bold; every sense of shame was at length banished, and the once elegant and accomplished William Wilton was lost. He has for years been the common tavern-loafer, and pot-house sot₁₉. One circumstance, however, in his miserable career, more than anything else, removed from him the last vestige of sympathy, and fixed him in the eye of the community as a loathsome and repulsive moral offence. There were two aged servants, whom you may remember, that were left by his father as a part of his estate, a male and female; whether they were man and wife, or not, I do not remember. The woman---and probably the very nurse of his infancy---he sold to a trader for a barrel of whiskey (she was redeemed, however, by one of the neighbors who would not see the horrid sacrilege, but He knew nothing of it) and the other, an old man, he tied up and beat, in a drunken fit, for some imaginary insult, so severely, that he soon died of his wounds. It was with great difficulty that the public was restrained from taking popular vengeance on him for these acts; but on account of his family they spared him, and partly in the hope also, I suppose, that he would finish himself with his barrel of whiskey (so they said). But in this last they were disappointed; like a monster, as he is, he lived through it, and he still lives on."

From the accomplished gentleman you knew him, he has become an incarnate₂₀ fiend, and to such an extent does he demonstrate his nature, that the neighbors often tremble for the safety of his wife and child. The little girl, you remember, was an infant when you were here; she is now near eight years old, and a most intelligent and interesting child. Poor Mrs. Wilton, she bears it all with meek patience, and much submission, but every one can see that she is a broken-hearted woman.

"And all this misery," said we, "is the fruit of that one error,---the liking of `something a little stronger."'

"Well, here we are, in sight of the place," said our friend. Mark the contrast of seven years. One thing you will note, and that is, a strict harmony has been preserved betwixt₂₁ the moral and the physical of the scene; the outer change is as great as that of the inner man."

"Yes, and all this," said we, "is the work of the bottle. Where, now, is the `dignity of intelligent manhood'---the `freedom,' of which he spoke so eloquently? The dog at his vomit; the sow in the wallow; or the man with his bottle; which of these three hath most of the beast?"

There stood the shattered and decayed cottage, it is true,--- like a tomb ruin---a gloomy remembrance of other days; and there, too, what remained of the splendid Magnolia grove---
time and abuse had done their work on both. The axe had leveled most of the beautiful trees for firewood, while those that remained, seemed to stand silent and sad in their dark fol₂₂ age, as if sensible of the dishonor that had befallen them. The largest and noblest of the grove had been ruined by the lightning, during a severe thunder-storm, and hung in halves, sustained by the adjacent trees, which seemed in this, as dutiful children, amidst the desolation, holding up a stricken sire. The very thunderer had spoken in threatening and in wrath. The grounds had been let go to waste; briars₂₃ had usurped the fence corners, and thistles covered the fields. Since the murder of the old servant man there was no one left to till the soil, which, like the moral waste of Wilton's mind, seemed as if a simoom₂₄ had passed over it; and was not such the fact? More blasting than the "Zamiel," is the fire breath of the Still. With the cottage itself, the contrast was greater, if possible, than with the grove. Doorless openings, and sashless windows, with furniture broken and destroyed, told of times of violence. Desolation and misery, had been lighted to their possession of the beautiful cottage, by the spirit-lamp of hell, where now, hand
in hand, they stalked and ruled supreme. A Satan, in the Garden of Eden, is that "something a little stronger," in the house of the happy.

Some one comes; it is the little daughter, and followed to the door by her ruffian father, who, with threatening and abuse is sending her upon some errand. He seems even now, at this early time in the day, to be under the influence of the demon. See, he is standing and staggering in the door-way still, and with bloated face and blood-shot eyes, is muttering something betwixt his teeth, in reference to that little girl. Alas, for the fate of a drunkard's daughter!

"And is that man Wilton? The man we knew? the gentleman and the scholar? Merciful heaven, what a metamorphosis!"

"Did you observe," said our friend, "that the little girl had a jug in her hand as she left the house? He is still under the maddening influence of the last night's drunken brawl, and has doubtless sent his child to the grocery in the village for more whiskey to cool off upon. Woe betide that little innocent if she fail in her degrading mission."

"Come," said we, "let us go; we have seen enough. O it harrows up the very soul. What talents; what usefulness; what respectability; what everything, indeed, might have been his; but all---all, are sacrificed to that prince of evils, strong drink. Why don't Mrs. Wilton take her little daughter and return to her father's house? he would receive her kindly, we doubt not."

"Well, that has been spoken of," said he, "but when Wilton is sober, as he sometimes is, his former good nature returns again; he is kind then, and promises amendment. And though every body else has lost all confidence in his pledges, his wife has not, but hopes still. A woman's heart is slow to give up the object of its early affections; a woman's love never forsakes. Besides, the match at first, was consummated by an elopement, and a sense of pride, perhaps, forbids the idea of such an event as her return. I think, however, that some of the friends (unknown to her) have written to the old gentleman, and if I mistake not, he is expected here about this time."

"I am glad of it, may God speed his journey. I would he was here now; for O I fear---I fear! Let us return to our mind which I cannot shake off. If I was superstitious, I should think there was some fearful calamity at hand. Poor Wilton, what a terrible contrast has the progress of seven years drawn upon the tables of his life, and how fearfully has his own hand guided the pencil. Is there hope? O God! is there hope? let us think."

Scene III. The Catastrophe

An hour, it may be, had elapsed, after the morning ramble of the last scene, during the interview of which we had sought the retirement of our chamber and communion with God. " He is our refuge," and always "a present help in trouble." Such was our condition and though we had no adequate conception of what the cause should be, a trouble seemed ready to settle down upon our mind. From this we sought relief, only where relief can be found for an oppressed spirit, at the throne of grace. Suddenly a busy hum in the street below, fell upon our ear. On approaching the window to ascertain the cause, we observed a crowd about the door and a fainting female just
being borne within the house. Almost immediately, as if moved by a common impulse, the whole village---men, women, and children---were seen hurriedly crossing the lawn, in the direction of the cottage.

"What has happened? Some dire event has transpired to cause this rush of excitement. We will follow, also, and learn the cause."

Just then our door opened, and our friend of the morning, pale and agitated, entered the room.

"What is the matter?" said we. "What has occurred? For heaven's sake, speak!"

"I am come," said he, "to ask you, once more, to accompany me to the cottage. The dreadful drama is near the close, the bloody denouement of which is terrible to behold."

"Bloody! do you say? What has happened?"

"Murder has happened," said he. "Murder, not only most `foul and unnatural,' but of circumstances so horrible that the mind trembles to know and think upon them."

"Who is murdered?" said we; "and who is the murderer?"

"They have just borne the fainting form of Mrs. Wilton into the house below, but little Alice and the wretched father--- come put on your hat, and let us visit the scene; I came for you on purpose, because I saw you were so interested in the welfare of the family. As we go, I will tell you what has come to pass."

We immediately started for the cottage.

"The state of the case appears to be about this," said he, "as near as we could ascertain, from the incoherent and anguished speech of poor Mrs. Wilton: the fiend of a father, as we learn, who was still under the influence of last night's drunkenness, had sent the little girl to the grocery for more
whiskey; just as we supposed was the case, when we saw her pass us with the jug in her hand."

"Where," said one, "could he have gotten the means to purchase the poison? would they trust him?"

"O no," said he. "It appears that on yesterday, while the miserable drunkard, and more wretched husband and father was absent at his tavern orgies, Mrs. Wilton, driven to her last extremity, in order to purchase food for herself and daughter, sold to a pedlar who passed through the Village, her wedding ring. This was the last article of any value that remained, and even this brought but a trifle. Still, it would buy a little bread--- and though she had clung to it, as a remembrance of faded joys, and wept upon it as a witness of untold sorrows,---the pressing demands of hunger were not to be resisted, and the ring, which was placed upon her finger with solemn oaths, now
left it, midst bitter sighs. This transaction, by some means Wilton found out, and demanded the money. This she refused. With threats and imprecations, he persisted, and even went so far as to fetch the axe from the yard, and raise it menacingly over her head, threatening her life if she continued to refuse.

Alarmed for her safety, at length she yielded, and gave him the money. Immediately the scanty product of the sacrifice, which was intended to purchase bread to sustain life, was on the way to the Grocery, for " more whiskey, " to produce death. On her return, it seems, the little girl stumbled against some obstacle in the path, and unfortunately fell. In her fall, the jug was broken, and the whiskey spilled. Sensible of the extent of her misfortune, and the violent wrath which awaited her, little Alice, gathered up the fragments of the broken jug, in token of her mishap, and weeping bitterly, made her way, fearful and trembling, into the presence of her unnatural parent. In a moment he saw the truth, and maddened into a paroxysm₂₅ of rage, at his disappointment, he bounded like a tiger from his seat, and scizing the axe, with a savage yell swore instant vengeance. Against the child, his first fury was levelled, who fled out at the back door, pursued by her father, while the mother, who was equally the object of his hellish design, escaped through the front of the house. It is likely the fleetness of little Alice would have baffled the pursuit of the monster father which she had often done before, had not her feet become entangled in some brushwood about the door, which had been placed there for purposes
of fuel. This proved fatal to her life---the murderous axe came down, and poor little Alice was dead.---A single horrid scream from the child, reached the fleeing mother's ear, who with a
groan, sank senseless by the road side;---whence she was borne to the house we left. One stroke of the axe did the deed, and almost cleft the child in twain. The descending blow struck
her, in a falling condition as it would seem, just at the back of the head, and passed quite through the neck and breast, dividing them entirely asunder₂₆. Poor child, it was a sight horrible to behold.

No sooner had this fiend in human shape accomplished this part of his design, than he rushed back into the house again, to finish his work upon his abused and devoted wife,--- Fortunately she was not there. Disappointed of the chosen subject of his vengeance, his next purpose seemed to be to select some object, animate or inanimate, upon which to wreak his fury. A portrait of Mrs. Wilton, painted by Inman---a beautiful picture, hung upon the wall of the apartment,---against this he now launched his wildest and most frantic madness. It is said that the frenzied soul, which under the influence of alcoholic madness steeps itself in murder, knows neither mercy nor remorse. One broad cut appeared in the face of the portrait, but in the effort to inflict a second blow, the head of the axe struck the ceiling of the room,---being lifted too high,---and glancing struck deep into the side of his own head and neck, severing the main artery, and producing instant death.

"This is the apartment," said our friend,---"and there you see he lies, in the centre of the floor weltering in his blood,--- with the fatal axe still in his grasp;---and just over him the indentation
in the ceiling.---And there too they have laid the body of little Alice.---Great God, what a sight is here?--This also is the work of the bottle,---the legitimate fruits of `something a little stronger. '"

Let us turn aside from this place of terrors. Horrors thicken fast,---they rise like the whelming tide, and mock at rest.--- The very currents of the heart curdle and chill, and the pulses pause in fear, among scenes like these. And this is the end of that beginning, which was so bright and joyful, and so full of promise. Like the coiled adder at the bottom of a lucid fountain, poisoning its sweet waters with the virus of death, is the spirit of the still, midst the springs of life. Who would have said seven years ago, that this would be the end of William Wilton,---the accomplished, the generous and the just.---But so it is---the tempter was busy---and the fire streams were full,--- they roll unresisted, and have borne to hell their victim.

It were idle to attempt a description of the scene, which communicated to the bereaved and distracted wife, the terrible events that had taken place. Scream answered to swoon,---and swoon succeeded scream,---following close upon each other, and in such rapid succession, that fears were entertained that her reason would perish, if her life was not also added to the list. But kind heaven directed otherwise,--- her time was not yet. The next day at an early hour, was the appointed time for the funeral, which was to take place near the cottage, where the grave had been already prepared.---Sorrow and gloom held vigil together that night, in the village of H---.

"John;" said a voice to a servant man, as he was hurrying through the hall of the Hotel early in the morning,---"who was that tall old gentleman, that came in the stage last night?"

"I don't know, sir," said John, "he is the strangest old man that I ever saw, that's certain. He seems almost like he was a lunatic."

"Why so, John?"

"Why sir," said the servant, "though he had been riding in the stage for two days without rest or sleep, he did not he down nor ask for a bed at all, but wandered about the village all night like a ghost. He asked about the murder down at the cottage, and while they told him the story, he

shook and groaned as if he had been in an ague fit.---Two or three times he started off to go down there, and then turned suddenly back again, afraid I reckon, that he would see the spirit of Wilton."

"It is certainly he ," said the voice, and the door closed." He ," said John, looking for a moment at the closed door,--- yes, it is HE,---and a singular HE he is. I think he is mad.

The assembled village stood round the grave. A large plain coffin had been provided, which contained the bodies of both father and daughter---the murderer and the murdered. This, it
is likely would not have been the arrangement, but a sympathetic commisseration, had suddenly sprung up in the popular mind on behalf of the wretched murderer, ascribing the horrid deed
rather to madness, than to premeditation. This, without doubt, was a right view of the subject. It was madness, and of the worst and most fatal type. A madness, full of horrors, and fit exponant of the condition of the damned,---the madness of the Still.

Upon the coffin, in gorey state, lay the fatal axe. The instrument of the murder, was to be buried with the murderer and the murdered. A strange "hatchment," truly, but in strict keeping with the nature of the scene. The services were short, solemn and impressive, and as the coffin was lowered to its last resting-place, the widow sunk upon her knees, and remained in that situation until the friends had filled the grave. The tall grey-headed stranger stood unnoticed by her side. As the crowd was about to disperse, he turned to the mourner, and with tremulous emotion said, " Alice. " It was like the shock of a Galvanic₂₇ battery. She threw back her veil at the sound
of his voice; started to her feet, and with a long, piercing, unearthly shriek, fell senseless into his arms.A moment more, and the story was told;--- he was her father, She was dead!

Glossary of Unfamiliar Terms

1. Prim- Formally precise of proper; as persons of behavior, stiffly neat. To draw up the mouth in an affectedly nice or precise way.

2. Umbrageous- Creating or providing shade; shady. Apt to take offense

3. Cynosure-Something that strongly attracts attention by its brilliance, interest. Something serving for guidance or direction.

4. Festoon-A string or chain of flowers, foliage, ribbon, etc., suspended in a curve between two points.

5. Eglantine-A Eurasian rose (Rosa eglanteria) having prickly stems, fragrant leaves, bright pink flowers, and scarlet hips. Also called Sweet Briar.

6. Novitiate-The state or period of being a novice of a religious order or congregation. The quarters occupied by religious novices during probation. A novice.

7. Imperiously- Domineering in a haughty manner; dictatorial; overbearing: an imperious manner; an imperious person. Urgent; imperative: imperious need.

8. Approbation- Approval; commendation. Official approval or sanction. Obsolete. Conclusive proof.

9. Elope- To run off secretly to be married, usually without the consent or knowledge of one's parents. To run away with a lover. To leave without permission or notification; escape.

10. Ennui- A feeling of utter weariness and discontent resulting from satiety or lack of interest; boredom: The endless lecture produced an unbearable ennui.

11. Twain- Split in two

12. Untrammeled- Not limited or restricted; unrestrained.

13. Felicity- The state of being happy, esp. in a high degree; bliss: marital felicity. An instance of this. A source of happiness. A skillful faculty: felicity of expression. An instance or display of this: the many felicities of the poem. Archaic. Good fortune.

14. Portentous- Of the nature of a portent; momentous. Ominously significant or indicative: a portentous defeat. Marvelous; amazing; prodigious.

15. Vernal- Of or pertaining to spring: vernal sunshine. Appearing or occurring in spring: Vernal migratory movements. Appropriate to or suggesting spring; spring like: vernal greenery. Belonging to or characteristic of youth: vernal longings.

16. Efface- To wipe out; do away with; expunge: To efface one's unhappy memories. To rub out, erase, or obliterate (outlines, traces, inscriptions, etc.). to make (oneself) inconspicuous; withdraw (oneself) modestly or shyly.

17. Abatement- The act or state of abating or the state of being abated; reduction; decrease; alleviation; mitigation. Suppression or termination: abatement of a nuisance; noise abatement.

18. Debauches- To corrupt morally. To lead away from excellence or virtue. To reduce the value, quality, or excellence of; debase. To cause to forsake allegiance.

19. Sot- A drunkard

20. Incarnate- Embodied in flesh; given a bodily, esp. a human, form: a devil incarnate.

21. Betwixt-Neither the one nor the other; in a middle or unresolved position:

22. Fol- foliage, when the leaves turn color.

23. Briars- A Mediterranean shrub or small tree (Erica arborea) whose hard, woody roots are used to make tobacco pipes. A pipe made from the root of this plant or from a similar wood.

24. Simoom- A strong, hot, sand-laden wind of the Sahara and Arabian deserts:

25. Paroxysm- Any sudden, violent outburst; a fit of violent action or emotion. Pathology. A severe attack or a sudden increase in intensity of a disease, usually recurring periodically.

26. Asunder- Into separate parts; In or into pieces apart or widely separated

27. Galvanic- Pertaining to or produced by galvanism; Producing or caused by an electric current. Affecting or affected as if by galvanism; startling; shocking stimulating; energizing

All illustrations and essays used with permission of artist and creator.