The Portland Sketch Book Part 12

ODE,

ON OCCASION OF JUDGE STORY'S EULOGY ON CHIEF JUSTICE MARSHALL AT THE ODEON.

By Grenville Mellen.

Again--the voice of G.o.d!

How breaks it round!

O'er consecrated sod, With locks unbound, Grief in her marble brow appears And bows amid her veil--in tears!

That mandate from on high-- The clarion call, That rung through earth and sky His rayless fall, In accents, "thou shalt die," again Proclaims man's dream of years--how vain!

We veil not in its grave Ambition's brow-- It is not o'er the brave We gather now!

But one who reach'd man's loftier fate.

_Good_ without fault--and n.o.bly _great_.

A sceptre was his own, Drawn from the sky-- He fill'd a holier throne Than royalty: He sat with deathless Justice crown'd, While Truth, like sunlight, flash'd around!

His _life_ to all the earth Proud record bore, Man yet might spring to birth, With angel power!

His _death_, that as the "gra.s.s," to-day Robes him in glory--and decay!

Oh! well, with spirit bow'd, Above his bier May a broad empire crowd, With prayer and tear!

--His be its requiem--deep and far-- A nation's heart his sepulchre!

THE BOY'S MOUNTAIN SONG.

FROM THE GERMAN.

By I. McLellan, Jr.

I am the mountain boy!

Forth o'er an hundred halls I gaze.

Here morn his earliest light displays, Here linger his declining rays,-- I am the mountain boy!

Here is the mountain-source, Of the cold water-course-- And at sultry noon I dip, In its wave my glowing lip.

I am the mountain boy!

When the awful lightnings glare, Flashes on the midnight air, On the rocking cliff I kneel, Answering back each thunder-peal.

I am the mountain boy!

When the quickly-pealing bell, Calls to arms in every dell, In the mustered ranks I stand, Swinging wide my mountain-brand And sing my mountain-song!

THE UNCHANGEABLE JEW.

By John Neal.

'_Who_ views with equal eye as G.o.d of all, A hero perish, or a sparrow fall?

Atoms and systems into ruin hurled, And now a bubble burst, and now a world?'

A great mult.i.tude were gathered together: on the right a huge fortress thundering to the sky--on the left a scaffold--a white fog--the open sea--and a mighty s.h.i.+p tumbling to the swell. The flat roofs and gorgeous balconies were covered with scarlet cloth, and thronged with women of all ages--their lips writhing and their eyes flas.h.i.+ng.

Underneath were a mute soldiery, with banners that moved not, and spears that glimmered not--a vast, rich and motionless pageant. Not a leaf stirred--not a finger was lifted--all eyes were fixed upon something afar off. The Grave alone had a voice, and the footstep of approaching Death grew audible, with the everlasting beat of the Ocean. The stagnant atmosphere burned with a l.u.s.treless, unchangeable and smouldering warmth. As the impatient and sluggish breathing of the Destroyer drew near, with a sound as of Earthquake and Pestilence laboring afar off, there appeared upon the outermost verge of the scaffold, near the fortress, a man of a simple and majestic presence, wearing no symbol of power, no badge of authority, before whom the mult.i.tude gave way with headlong precipitation, as though but to touch the hem of his garment were death itself, or something yet worse than death.

After communicating with those about him in a low whisper, too low to be understood by others almost within his reach, one of the soldiers lifted a spear, at the point of which fluttered a blood-red banner, tufted and fringed with snow-white feathers, and pointed in silence toward a large opening, which appeared to command a view of the whole interior. The stranger drew near, and grasping one of the bars with a powerful hand, lifted himself up, and after looking awhile, turned away with a sick impatient shudder, and wiped his eyes; and then lifting himself up again, he made a signal to somebody within, and straightway a large tent-like awning was quietly withdrawn, so as to reveal the interior of a court-yard, with cells opening into it--in the nearest of which sat a princely-looking middle-aged man, half-buried and apparently half asleep or lost in thought, in a large, heavy, old-fas.h.i.+oned chair, with a curiously carved table before him, on which there lay, side by side with writing materials, a lamp and a letter evidently unfinished, two or three illuminated ma.n.u.scripts, a dagger and a map; a ma.s.sive goblet richly chased, the rough gold tinged and sweltering with the hot blood of the southern grape, a variety of strange mathematical instruments--a copy of Zoroaster--and a Hebrew Bible, with clasps of the costliest workmans.h.i.+p, and a cover of black velvet frosted with seed pearls--a crushed and trampled coronet--and a lighted pipe, ornamented with precious stones, the shaft a twisted serpent and the bowl a burning carbuncle--a live coal--from the core of which, as out of the midst of a perpetual, unextinguishable fire, issued a delicate perfume, filling the whole neighborhood, as with the smoke of a censer; and leaving the eye to make out--by little and little--through the fragrant vapor, first a pair of embroidered Persian slippers, then a magnificent robe, flowered all over as with the suns.h.i.+ne of the sea, and weltering in the changeable light of the open window, then a prodigious quant.i.ty of l.u.s.trous black hair flowing down over the shoulders, from underneath a crimson velvet cap with a diamond buckle and clasp, and a ta.s.sel of spun gold, strung with sapphire, ruby, amethyst and pearl--and a pomp of black feathers overshadowing an ample forehead of surpa.s.sing power, and eyes of untroubled splendor; and then, after a long while, a heap of black shadow lying coiled up underneath the table, from the midst of which an occasional flash, as of a serpent's tongue, or an angry sparkle--as of a serpent's eye, would appear--and at last the whole proportions of a superb-looking personage, who had been trying, hour after hour, with a compressed lip and a thoughtful determined eye--to snap what appeared to be a handful of seed pearl, one by one, through the grated window before him, without touching the bars--hour after hour--and always in vain! The pa.s.sage way was too narrow--the bars too near together.

Behold! murmured he at last, while the shadow of another--and yet another stranger, shot along the lighted floor, as he stole about the room a-tiptoe, and gathering up the pearls, if pearls they were, that lay in heaps underneath the window, and flinging aside the magnificent robe he wore, prepared himself anew and with more determination than ever, for the work he had evidently set his heart upon, if not his life, by measuring the elevation with a steadier eye, and poising every pearl with a more delicate touch, before he projected it toward the window.

Behold! how the Ancient of Days delighteth in counteracting the purposes of Man?

The other started back and threw up his arms with a look of horror and amazement, and all who were about him began whispering together and shaking their heads.

At this moment the slow jarring vibration of a great bell was heard from the topmost tower--the cannon of the fortress thundered forth, and were answered, peal after peal, from the lighted mountains--a volume of white smoke rolled heavily toward the earth and covered the people--the sea-fog trembled--parted--and slowly drifted away in patches and fragments, through which the blue sky appeared, and the hot suns.h.i.+ne flashed with an arrowy brightness, while the mighty s.h.i.+p swung round with her broadside to the sh.o.r.e, and lighted matches were seen moving about hither and thither, like wandering meteors, through the damp hazy atmosphere; and instantly there went up a slow half-smothered wail from the mult.i.tude, with a weight and volume like the unutterable and growing earnestness of the Great Deep, when it begins to heave with a pre-appointed and irresistible change; and all eyes were upturned, and all arms outstretched with a troubled expression toward the stranger, who walked forward a few steps to the verge of the scaffold--and looking about him, on every side, called out with a loud voice,--Of such are the G.o.ds of the Unconverted! and of such their followers!

The answering roar of the mult.i.tude reached the prisoner, who lifting his head and listening for a moment with a placid smile, asked what more they would have?--and whether they were not yet satisfied?--and then straightway began balancing another of the glittering seeds and eyeing the window--

Most pitiable! cried the other, covering his face with his hands, moving afar off, and appearing to be entirely overcome by what he saw.

And why _pitiable_, I pray thee! shouted the former, with a voice like a trumpet, lifting his calm forehead to the sky and gathering his magnificent robe about him as he spoke.

Art thou of a truth Adonijah the Jew--the unconverted Jew?

Of a truth am I--the unconverted, the _unconvertable_ Jew; and thou! art thou not he that was my brother according to the flesh--even Zorobabel, the _converted_ Jew and the preacher of a new faith?

Yea; of a new faith to such as thou; but a faith older than the Hebrew prophets to them that believe, Adonijah.

But why _pitiable_ I pray thee?

How are the mighty fallen! For three whole months have I journied afoot and alone, by night and by day, through the deep of the wilderness, and along by the sea-sh.o.r.e--afoot and alone, my brother!--after hearing of thy great overthrow--the wreck of thy vast possessions about me whithersoever I went--thy magnificent household scattered, thy princes banished from their high places, and wandering over all the earth and hiding themselves in the holes of the rocks--with no city of refuge in their path--even thy youngest and fairest a bondwoman, toiling for that which sustaineth not; and thy own fast-approaching death, a theme with every people and kindred and tongue--and not a theme of sorrow! And all this, O my brother and my prince! only that I might be near thee in thy unutterable bereavement and humiliation, only that I might look upon thee once more alive, and see thee unchangeable as ever, though stripped of power and trampled under the hoofs of the mult.i.tude--only that I might reason with thee, face to face, before a great people, who, after watching and wors.h.i.+pping thee for many years, have come up together as with one heart, to see thee--_thee!_ their idol and their benefactor--perish upon a scaffold, as only the fool or the scoffer perisheth!--to cry out upon thee as the unconquerable Jew, that having once abjured the faith of his fathers and gone back to it anew, cannot be reached but by the law, nor purified but with fire!

Say on.

Alas, my brother! Alas that it should fall upon me to afflict thy proud spirit with reproaches at a time like this! But there is no other hope.

Awake, therefore! awake! and gird up thy loins like a man. I will demand of thee, saith the Lord of Hosts, and thou shalt answer me, even as my servant Job answered me of yore. Awake, therefore, and stand up, that I may reason with thee for the last time touching the faith of our mighty fathers, the consolations of philosophy, and the splendor and power of earthly Wisdom--of Death and Judgment--while thou art on thy way to the grave in the fulness of thy strength and majesty; and _not_ with the clangor of trumpets, the neigh of steeds, the flow of drapery, and the uproar of battle!--No!--not as the High Priest, or the champion of a lofty and venerable faith, standing up like a pillar of fire in a cloudy sky, and pointing to Jerusalem as to the great gathering place of buried nations, about to reappear, with all eyes fixed upon thee and all hearts heaving with exultation! To thy grave, my brother! and not as a martyr!

but as a wretch abandoned of all the earth--a twofold apostate!--a rebel and a traitor! Hark! hearest thou not a faint stirring afar off, along the sh.o.r.e of that mult.i.tude--a living wilderness of threatening eyes and parched lips--and ah! another moan from that huge, heavy, disheartening bell, which never stops till the sacrifice of a fiery death is over, and the object of its boding prophecy gone to the world of spirits.

But the prisoner heeded not his adjuration--he never lifted his eyes, and the same quiet smile rested forever upon his countenance; and he still gathered up the pearls and continued aiming them at the window.

Awake, Adonijah! awake, I say! Thy pearls are counted to thee. Thy pulses are about to stand still forever--thy proud heart to stop forever! A moment, and the headsman will be here--already do I see him afar off, stealing with a noiseless movement along the skirts of the affrighted people, like smouldering fire through the blackness of a thunder-cloud. Awake, thou MAN of sorrow and acquainted with grief, awake that I may pray with thee!