No More Learning

On considering the most
suitable time and place, the castle seemed insecure; during the


## p. 9489 (#517) ###########################################

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI
9489
chase, uncertain and dangerous; whilst going about the city for
his own amusement, difficult if not impracticable; and at a ban-
quet, of doubtful result. They therefore determined to kill him
upon the occasion of some procession or public festivity, when
there would be no doubt of his presence, and where they might
under various pretexts assemble their friends. It was also re-
solved that if one of their number were prevented from attend-
ing, on any account whatever, the rest should put him to death
in the midst of their armed enemies.
It was now the close of the year 1476,- near Christmas; and
as it was customary for the duke to go upon St. Stephen's day,
in great solemnity, to the church of that martyr, they considered
this the most suitable opportunity for the execution of their de-
sign. Upon the morning of that day they ordered some of their
most trusty friends and servants to arm, telling them they wished
to go to the assistance of Giovanandrea, who, contrary to the wish
of some of his neighbors, intended to turn a water-course into
his estate; but that before they went they wished to take leave
of the prince. They also assembled, under various pretenses,
other friends and relatives; trusting that when the deed was ac-
complished, every one would join them in the completion of their
enterprise. It was their intention, after the duke's death, to col-
lect their followers together and proceed to those parts of the
city where they imagined the plebeians would be most disposed
to take arms against the duchess and the principal ministers of
State: and they thought the people, on account of the famine
which then prevailed, would easily be induced to follow them;
for it was their design to give up the houses of Cecco Simonetta,
Giovanni Botti, and Francesco Lucani,-all leading men in the
government, to be plundered, and by this means gain over the
populace and restore liberty to the community. With these ideas,
and with minds resolved upon their execution, Giovanandrea and
the rest were early at the church, and heard mass together; after
which Giovanandrea, turning to a statue of St. Ambrose, said,
"O patron of our city! thou knowest our intention, and the end
we would attain by so many dangers: favor our enterprise, and
prove, by protecting the oppressed, that tyranny is offensive to
thee. "
-
XVI-594
To the duke, on the other hand, when intending to go to the
church, many omens occurred of his approaching death; for in the
morning, having put on a cuirass, as was his frequent custom, he


## p. 9490 (#518) ###########################################

9490
NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI
immediately took it off again, either because it inconvenienced
him or that he did not like its appearance. He then wished to
hear mass in the castle; but found that the priest who officiated
in the chapel had gone to St. Stephen's, and taken with him the
sacred utensils. On this he desired the service to be performed
by the Bishop of Como, who acquainted him with preventing
circumstances. Thus, almost compelled, he determined to go to
the church; but before his departure he caused his sons, Giovan
Galeazzo and Ermes, to be brought to him, and embraced and
kissed them several times, seeming reluctant to part with them.
He then left the castle, and with the ambassadors of Ferrara and
Mantua on either hand, proceeded to St. Stephen's.
The conspirators, to avoid exciting suspicion, and to escape
the cold, which was very severe, had withdrawn to an apart-
ment of the arch-priest, who was a friend of theirs; but hearing
the duke's approach, they came into the church, Giovanandrea
and Girolamo placing themselves upon the right hand of the en-
trance and Carlo on the left. Those who led the procession
had already entered, and were followed by the duke, surrounded
by such a multitude as is usual on similar occasions. The first
attack was made by Lampognano and Girolamo; who, pretending
to clear the way for the prince, came close to him, and grasping
their daggers, which being short and sharp were concealed in the
sleeves of their vests, struck at him. Lampognano gave him
two wounds, one in the belly, the other in the throat. Girolamo
struck him in the throat and breast. Carlo Visconti, being nearer
the door, and the duke having passed, could not wound him in
front; but with two strokes transpierced his shoulder and spine.
These six wounds were inflicted so instantaneously that the duke
had fallen before any one was aware of what had happened; and
he expired, having only once ejaculated the name of the Virgin,
as if imploring her assistance.
A great tumult immediately ensued; several swords were
drawn; and as often happens in sudden emergencies, some fled
from the church and others ran towards the scene of tumult,
both without any definite motive or knowledge of what had oc-
curred. Those, however, who were nearest the duke and had
seen him slain, recognizing the murderers, pursued them. Gio-
vanandrea, endeavoring to make his way out of the church, had
to pass among the women, who being numerous, and according
to their custom seated upon the ground, impeded his progress


## p. 9491 (#519) ###########################################

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI
9491
by their apparel; and being overtaken, he was killed by a Moor,
one of the duke's footmen. Carlo was slain by those who were
immediately around him. Girolamo Olgiato passed through the
crowd, and got out of the church; but seeing his companions
dead, and not knowing where else to go, he went home, where
his father and brothers refused to receive him; his mother only,
having compassion on her son, recommended him to a priest,
an old friend of the family, who, disguising him in his own ap-
parel, led him to his house. Here he remained two days, not
without hope that some disturbance might arise in Milan which
would contribute to his safety. This not occurring, and appre-
hensive that his hiding-place would be discovered, he endeavored
to escape in disguise; but being observed, he was given over to
justice, and disclosed all the particulars of the conspiracy. Giro-
lamo was twenty-three years of age, and exhibited no less com-
posure at his death than resolution in his previous conduct; for
being stripped of his garments, and in the hands of the execu-
tioner, who stood by with the sword unsheathed ready to deprive
him of life, he repeated the following words in the Latin tongue,
in which he was well versed: "Mors acerba, fama perpetua, stabit
vetus memoria facti. »*
The enterprise of these unfortunate young men was conducted
with secrecy and executed with resolution; and they failed for
want of the support of those whom they expected to rise in
their defense. Let princes therefore learn to live so as to ren-
der themselves beloved and respected by their subjects, that none
may have hope of safety after having destroyed them; and let
others see how vain is the expectation which induces them to
trust so much to the multitude as to believe that even when
discontented, they will either embrace their cause or ward off
their dangers. This event spread consternation all over Italy;
but those which shortly afterwards occurred in Florence caused
much more alarm, and terminated a peace of twelve years' con-
tinuance. Having commenced with blood and horror, they will
have a melancholy and tearful conclusion.
* "Death is bitter, but fame is eternal, and the memory of this deed shall
long endure. »


## p. 9492 (#520) ###########################################

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI
9492
HOW A PRINCE OUGHT TO AVOID FLATTERERS
From The Prince>
I
MUST not forget to mention one evil against which princes
should ever be upon their guard, and which they cannot
avoid except by the greatest prudence; and this evil is the
flattery which reigns in every court. Men have so much self-
love, and so good an opinion of themselves, that it is very diffi-
cult to steer clear of such contagion; and besides, in endeavoring
to avoid it, they run the risk of being despised.
For princes have no other way of expelling flatterers than by
showing that the truth will not offend. Yet if every one had the
privilege of uttering his sentiments with impunity, what would
become of the respect due to the majesty of the sovereign? A
prudent prince should take a middle course, and make choice of
some discreet men in his State, to whom alone he may give the
liberty of telling him the truth on such subjects as he shall
request information upon from them. He ought undoubtedly to
interrogate them and hear their opinions upon every subject of
importance, and determine afterwards according to his own
judgment; conducting himself at all times in such a manner as
to convince every one that the more freely they speak the more
acceptable they will be. After which he should listen to nobody
else, but proceed firmly and steadily in the execution of what he
has determined.
A prince who acts otherwise is either bewildered by the adu-
lation of flatterers, or loses all respect and consideration by the
uncertain and wavering conduct he is obliged to pursue. This
doctrine can be supported by an instance from the history of our
own times. Father Luke said of the Emperor Maximilian, his
master, now on the throne, that "he never took counsel of any
person, and notwithstanding he never acted from an opinion of
his own"; and in this he adopted a method diametrically opposite
to that which I have proposed. For as this prince never in-
trusted his designs to any of his ministers, their suggestions were
not made till the very moment when they should be executed; so
that, pressed by the exigencies of the moment, and overwhelmed
with obstacles and unforeseen difficulties, he was obliged to yield
to whatever opinions his ministers might offer. Hence it hap-
pens, that what he does one day he is obliged to cancel the next;


## p. 9493 (#521) ###########################################

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI
9493
and thus nobody can depend on his decisions, for it is impossible
to know what will be his ultimate determination.
A prince ought to take the opinions of others in everything,
but only at such times as it pleases himself, and not whenever
they are obtruded upon him; so that no one shall presume to
give him advice when he does not request it. He ought to be
inquisitive, and listen with attention; and when he sees any one
hesitate to tell him the full truth, he ought to evince the utmost
displeasure at such conduct.
―――――――――――
Those are much mistaken who imagine that a prince who
listens to the counsel of others will be but little esteemed, and
thought incapable of acting on his own judgment. It is an infal-
lible rule that a prince who does not possess an intelligent mind
of his own can never be well advised, unless he is entirely gov-
erned by the advice of an able minister, on whom he may repose
the whole cares of government; but in this case he runs a great
risk of being stripped of his authority by the very person to whom
he has so indiscreetly confided his power. And if instead of one
counselor he has several, how can he, ignorant and uninformed
as he is, conciliate the various and opposite opinions of those
ministers, who are probably more intent on their own interests
than those of the State, and that without his suspecting it?
Besides, men who are naturally wicked incline to good only
when they are compelled to it; whence we may conclude that
good counsel, come from what quarter it may, is owing entirely
to the wisdom of the prince, and the wisdom of the prince does
not arise from the goodness of the counsel.
EXHORTATION TO LORENZO DE' MEDICI TO DELIVER ITALY
FROM FOREIGN DOMINATION
From closing chapter of The Prince'
I'
F IT was needful that Israel should be in bondage to Egypt,
to display the quality of Moses; that the Persians should be
overwhelmed by the Medes, to bring out the greatness and
the valor of Cyrus; that the Athenians should be dispersed, to
make plain the superiority of Theseus,- so at present, to illumi-
nate the grandeur of one Italian spirit, it was doubtless needful
that Italy should be sunk to her present state,- a worse slavery
than that of the Jews, more thoroughly trampled down than the
―


## p. 9494 (#522) ###########################################

NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI
9494
Persians, more scattered than the Athenians; without a head,
without public order, conquered and stripped, lacerated, overrun
by her foes, subjected to every form of spoliation.
And though from time to time there has emanated from
some one a ray of hope that he was the one ordained by God
to redeem Italy, yet we have seen how he was so brought to a
standstill at the very height of his success that poor Italy still
remained lifeless, so to speak, and waiting to see who might be
sent to bind up her wounds, to end her despoilment, the dev-
astation of Lombardy, the plunder and ruinous taxation of the
kingdom of Naples and of Tuscany,- and to heal the sores that
have festered so long. You see how she prays to God that he
may send her a champion to defend her from this cruelty, bar-
barity, and insolence. You see her eager to follow any standard,
if only there is some one to uprear it. But there is no one
at this time to whom she could look more hopefully than to
your illustrious house, O magnificent Lorenzo! which, with its
excellence and prudence, favored by God and the Church,— of
which it is now the head,- could effectively begin her deliver-
ance.
•
You must not allow this opportunity to pass. Let Italy,
after waiting so long, see her deliverer appear at last. And I
cannot put in words with what affection he would be received in
all the States which have suffered so long from this inundation
of foreign enemies! with what thirst for vengeance, with what
unwavering loyalty, with what devotion, and with what tears!
What door would be closed to him? Who would refuse to obey
him? What envy would dare to contest his place? What Italian
would refuse him homage? This supremacy of foreign barbari-
ans is a stench in the nostrils of all!


## p. 9495 (#523) ###########################################

9495
-
NORMAN MACLEOD
(1812-1872)
>>
N THE present century the Scottish Church has given to the
world two sons of pre-eminent importance and influence: Dr.
Chalmers and Dr. Norman Macleod. The name
mes of these
two men, simple clergymen of the simple Scottish Church, are familiar
not only in Scotland and among Scotsmen all the world over, but
among thousands also of English and Americans. With one only we
have to do here: the famous Scottish minister and Queen's Chaplain
who became so universally known and beloved in Scotland that he
was rarely if ever alluded to by his full name, but simply as "Dr. Nor-
man -and even, in many localities, merely as "Norman. " Norman
Macleod was a notable man on account of his writings; a still more
notable man on account of his preaching and influence; possibly more
notable still as an ideal type of the Highlander from the Highland
point of view; and above all, notable for his dominant and striking
personality. It has been said, and perhaps truly, that no one has
taken so strong a hold of the affections of his countrymen since
Burns. Fine as are Dr. Macleod's writings,- notably The Reminis-
cences of a Highland Parish,' 'The Old Lieutenant,' 'The Starling,'
and 'Wee Davie,' we may look there in vain for adequate sources
of this wide-spread and still sustained popularity. Fine as his literary
gifts are, his supreme gift was that of an over-welling human sym-
pathy, by which he made himself loved, from the poorest Highland
crofters or the roughest Glasgow artisans to the Queen herself. This
is fully brought out in the admirable Memoir written by his brother,
Dr. Donald Macleod, the present editor of that well-known magazine,
Good Words, which Dr. Norman began. The name of his childhood
and his family, says Dr. Donald,—
(
«< was to all Scotland his title, as distinct as a Duke's,- Norman Macleod;
sometimes the Norman' alone was enough. He was a Scottish minister, noth-
ing more; incapable of any elevation to rank, bound to mediocrity of means
by the mere fact of his profession, never to be bishop of anywhere, dean
of anywhere, lord of anything, so long as life held him, yet everybody's fel-
low wherever he went: dear brother of the Glasgow workingmen in their
grimy fustians; of the Ayrshire weavers in their cottages; dear friend of the
sovereign on the throne. He had great eloquence, great talent, and many of
the characteristics of genius; but above all, he was the most brotherly of men.
It is doubtful whether his works will live an independent life after him:


## p. 9496 (#524) ###########################################

9496
NORMAN MACLEOD
rather, perhaps, it may be found that their popularity depended upon him
and not upon them; and his personal claims must fade, as those who knew him
follow him into the Unknown. »
And indeed there could be no better summary of Norman Macleod
than this at once pious and just estimate by his brother.
He came not only of one of the most famous Highland clans, but
of a branch noted throughout the West of Scotland for the stalwart
and ever militant sons of the church which it has contributed from
generation to generation. It is to this perpetuity of vocation, as well
as to the transmission of family names, that a good deal of natural
confusion is due in the instance of writers bearing Highland names,
and of the Macleods in particular. "They're a' thieves, fishermen, or
ministers," as is said in the West; and however much or little truth
there may be in the first, there is a certain obvious truth in the
second, and a still more obvious truth in the third. Again and again
it is stated that Dr. Norman Macleod - meaning this Norman-is the
author of what is now the most famous song among the Highlanders,
the 'Farewell to Fiunary'; a song which has become a Highland
national lament. But this song was really written by Dr. Norman
Macleod the elder; that is, the father of the Dr. Norman Macleod of
whom we are now writing.
Norman Macleod was born on June 3d, 1812, in Campbelltown of
Argyll. After his education for the church at Glasgow and Edin-
burgh Universities, he traveled for some time in Germany as private
tutor. Some years after his ordainment to an Ayrshire parish, he
visited Canada on ecclesiastical business. It was not till 1851 that he
was translated to the church with which his name is so closely asso-
ciated; namely, the Barony Charge in Glasgow. Three years after
this, in 1854, he became one of her Majesty's Chaplains for Scotland,
and Dean of the Order of the Thistle. In 1860 he undertook the
editorship of Good Words; and made this magazine, partly by his
own writings and still more by his catholic and wise editorship, one
of the greatest successes in periodical literature. Long before his
death at the comparatively early age of sixty, he had become famous
as the most eloquent and influential of the Scottish ministry; indeed,
so great was his repute that hundreds of loyal Scots from America
and Australia came yearly to Scotland, primarily with the desire to
see and hear one whom many of them looked to as the most emi-
nent Scot of his day. It was in his shrewdness of judgment, his
swift and kindly tact, his endless fund of humor, and his sweet
human sympathy, that the secret of his immense influence lay. But
while it is by virtue of his personal qualities that even now he sur-
vives in the memory of his countrymen, there is in his writings much
that is distinctive and beautiful. Probably The Reminiscences of a


## p. 9497 (#525) ###########################################

NORMAN MACLEOD
9497
Highland Parish' will long be read for their broad and fine sense of
human life in all its ordinary aspects. This book, without any par-
ticular pretensions to style, is full of such kindly insight, such swift
humor, and such broad sympathy, that it is unquestionably the most
characteristic literary work of its author. Probably, among his few
efforts in fiction, the story known as The Old Lieutenant and his
Son' (unless it be 'The Starling') still remains the most popular.
Curiously enough, although his sermons stirred all Scotland, there
are few of them which in perusal at this late date have any specially
moving quality, apart from their earnestness and native spiritual
beauty. There is however one which stands out above the others,
and is to this day familiar to thousands: the splendid sermon on
'War and Judgment,' which, at a crucial moment in the history of
his country, Dr. Norman Macleod preached before the Queen at the
little Highland church of Crathie.
The three extracts which follow adequately represent Dr. Macleod.
The first exemplifies his narrative style. The second depicts those
West Highlands which he loved so well and helped to make others
love. The third is one of those little lyrics in lowland Scottish which
live to this day in the memories of the people.
THE HOME-COMING
From The Old Lieutenant and his Son>
TH
HERE lived in the old burgh one of that class termed "fools"
to whom I have already alluded, who was called
"daft
Jock. " Jock was lame, walked by the aid of a long staff,
and generally had his head and shoulders covered up with an old
coat. Babby had a peculiar aversion to Jock; why, it was diffi-
cult to discover, as her woman's heart was kindly disposed to all
living things. Her regard was supposed to have been partially
alienated from Jock from his always calling her "Wee Babbity,"
accompanying the designation with a loud and joyous laugh.
Now, I have never yet met a human being who was not weak
on a point of personal peculiarity which did not flatter them. It
has been said that a woman will bear any amount of abuse that
does not involve a slight upon her appearance. Men are equally
susceptible of similar pain. A very tall or very fat hero will be
calm while his deeds are criticized or his fame disparaged, but
will resent with bitterness any marked allusion to his great longi-
tude or latitude. Babby never could refuse charity to the needy,
and Jock was sure of receiving something from her as the result


## p. 9498 (#526) ###########################################

9498
NORMAN MACLEOD
of his weekly calls; but he never consigned a scrap of meat to
his wallet without a preliminary battle. On the evening of the
commemoration of the "Melampus" engagement, Babby was sit-
ting by the fire watching a fowl which twirled from the string
roasting for supper, and which dropped its unctuous lard on a
number of potatoes that lay basking in the tin receiver below.
A loud rap was heard at the back door; and to the question,
"Who's there? " the reply was heard of "Babbity, open! Open,
wee Babbity! Hee, hee, hee! "
"Gae wa wi' ye, ye daft cratur," said Babby.
"What right
hae ye to disturb folk at this time o' nicht? I'll let loose the
dog on you. "
Babby knew that Skye shared her dislike to Jock; as was
evident from his bark when he rose, and with curled tail began
snuffing at the foot of the door. Another knock, louder than
before, made Babby start.
"My word," she exclaimed, "but ye hae learned impudence! "
And afraid of disturbing "the company," she opened as much of
the door as enabled her to see and rebuke Jock.
"Hoo daur ye,
Jock, to rap sae loud as that? »
"Open, wee, wee, wee Babbity! " said Jock.
"Ye big, big, big blackguard, I'll dae naething o' the kind,"
said Babby as she shut the door. But the stick of the fool was
suddenly interposed. "That beats a'! " said Babby: "what the
sorrow d'ye want, Jock, to daur to presume — »
But to Babby's horror the door was forced open in the mid-
dle of her threat, and the fool entered, exclaiming, "I want a
kiss, my wee, wee, bonnie Babbity! "
"Preserve us a'! " exclaimed Babby, questioning whether she
should scream or fly, while the fool, turning his back to the
light, seized her by both her wrists, and imprinted a kiss on her
forehead.
"Skye! " half screamed Babby; but Skye was springing up,
as if anxious to kiss Jock. Babby fell back on a chair, and
catching a glimpse of the fool's face, she exclaimed, "O my
darling, my darling! O Neddy, Neddy, Neddy! " Flinging off
her cap, as she always did on occasions of great perplexity, she
seized him by the hands, and then sunk back, almost fainting, in
the chair.
"Silence, dear Babby! " said Ned, speaking in a whisper; "for
I want to astonish the old couple. How glad I am to see you!


## p. 9499 (#527) ###########################################

NORMAN MACLEOD
9499
Then
and they are all well, I know; and Freeman here, too! "
seizing the dog, he clasped him to his heart, while the brute
struggled with many an eager cry to kiss his old master's face.
Ned's impulse from the first was to rush into the parlor; but
he was restrained by that strange desire which all have experi-
enced in the immediate anticipation of some great joy,-to hold
it from us, as a parent does a child, before we seize it and clasp
it to our breast.
The small party, consisting of the captain, his wife, and Free-
man, were sitting round the parlor fire; Mrs. Fleming sewing,
and the others keeping up rather a dull conversation, as those
who felt, though they did not acknowledge, the presence of some-
thing at their hearts which hindered their usual freedom and
genial hilarity.
"Supper should be ready by this time," suggested the captain,
just as the scene between Ned and Babby was taking place in
the kitchen. "Babby and Skye seem busy: I shall ring, may I
not ? »
"If you please," said Mrs. Fleming; "but depend upon it,
Babby will cause no unnecessary delays. "
Babby speedily responded to the captain's ring. On entering
the room she burst into a fit of laughing. Mrs. Fleming put
down her work and looked at her servant as if she was mad.
"What do you mean, woman? " asked the captain with knit
brows: "I never saw you behave so before. "
"Maybe no. Ha! ha! ha! " said Babby; "but there's a queer
man wishing to speak wi' ye. " At this moment a violent ring
was heard from the door-bell.
-―― -
"A queer man-wishing to speak with me at this hour,"
muttered the captain, as if in utter perplexity.
Babby had retired to the lobby, and was ensconced, with her
apron in her mouth, in a corner near the kitchen. "You had
better open the door yersel'," cried Babby, smothering her laugh-
ter.
The captain, more puzzled than ever, went to the door, and
opening it was saluted with a gruff voice, saying, "I'm a poor
sailor, sir,—and knows you're an old salt, and have come to
see you, sir. "
"See me, sir! What do you want? " replied the captain
gruffly, as one whose kindness some impostor hoped to bene-
fit by.
-


## p. 9500 (#528) ###########################################

9500
NORMAN MACLEOD
"Wants nothing, sir," said the sailor, stepping near the captain.
A half-scream, half-laugh from Babby drew Mrs. Fleming and
Freeman to the lobby.
"You want nothing? What brings you to disturb me at this
hour of the night? Keep back, sir! ”
"Well, sir, seeing as how I sailed with Old Cairney, I thought
you would not refuse me a favor," replied the sailor in a hoarse
voice.
"Don't dare, sir," said the captain, "to come into my house
one step farther, till I know more about you. "
"Now, captain, don't be angry; you know as how that great
man Nelson expected every man to do his duty: all I want is
just to shake Mrs. Fleming by the hand, and then I go; that is,
if after that you want me for to go. "
"Mrs. Fleming! " exclaimed the captain, with the indignation
of a man who feels that the time has come for open war as
against a house-breaker. "If you dare — »
But Mrs. Fleming, seeing the rising storm, passed her husband
rapidly, and said to the supposed intruder, whom she assumed to
be a tipsy sailor, "There is my hand, if that's all you want: go
away now as you said, and don't breed any disturbance. "
But the sailor threw his arms around his mother, and Babby
rushed forward with a light; and then followed muffled cries
of "Mother! " "Father! " "Ned! " "My own boy! " "God be
praised! " until the lobby was emptied, and the parlor once more
alive with as joyous and thankful hearts as ever met in "hamlet
or in baron's ha'! "
HIGHLAND SCENERY
HER
ER great delight was in the scenery of that West Highland
country. Italy has its gorgeous beauty, and is a magnifi-
cent volume of poetry history, and art, superb within and
without, read by the light of golden sunsets. Switzerland is the
most perfect combination of beauty and grandeur; from its up-
lands with grass more green and closely shaven than an English
park; umbrageous with orchards; musical with rivulets; tinkling
with the bells of wandering cattle and flocks of goats; social with
picturesque villages gathered round the chapel spires-up to the
bare rocks and mighty cataracts of ice; until the eye rests on the


## p. 9501 (#529) ###########################################

NORMAN MACLEOD
9501
peaks of alabaster snow, clear and sharp in the intense blue of
the cloudless sky, which crown the whole marvelous picture with
awful grandeur! Norway too has its peculiar glory of fiords
worming their way like black water-snakes among gigantic mount-
ains, lofty precipices, or primeval forests. But the scenery of the
Western Highlands has a distinctive character of its own. It is
not beauty, in spite of its knolls of birch and oak copse that
fringe the mountain lochs and the innumerable bights and bays
of pearly sand. Nor is it grandeur — although there is a wonder-
ful vastness in its far-stretching landscapes of ocean meeting the
horizon, or of hills beyond hills, in endless ridges, mingling afar
with the upper sky. But in the sombre coloring of its mount-
ains; in the silence of its untrodden valleys; in the extent of its
bleak and undulating moors; in the sweep of its rocky corries;
in the shifting mists and clouds that hang over its dark preci-
pices: in all this kind of scenery, along with the wild traditions
which ghost-like float around its ancient keeps, and live in the
tales of its inhabitants, there is a glory and a sadness, most affect-
ing to the imagination, and suggestive of a period of romance
and song, of clanships and of feudal attachments, which, banished
from the rest of Europe, took refuge and lingered long in those
rocky fastnesses, before they "passed away forever on their dun
wings from Morven. "
Μ'
MY LITTLE MAY
Y LITTLE May was like a lintie
Glintin' 'mang the flowers o' spring;
Like a lintie she was cantie,
Like a lintie she could sing;-
Singing, milking in the gloamin',
Singing, herding in the morn,
Singing 'mang the brackens roaming,
Singing shearing yellow corn!
Oh the bonnie dell and dingle,
Oh the bonnie flowering glen,
Oh the bonnie bleezin' ingle,
Oh the bonnie but and ben!
Ilka body smiled that met her,
Nane were glad that said fareweel:


## p. 9502 (#530) ###########################################

9502
NORMAN MACLEOD
Never was a blyther, better,
Bonnier bairn, frae croon to heel!
Oh the bonnie dell and dingle,
Oh the bonnie flowering glen,
Oh the bonnie bleezin' ingle,
Oh the bonnie but and ben!
Blaw, wintry winds, blaw cauld and eerie,
Drive the sleet and drift the snaw:
May is sleeping, she was weary,
For her heart was broke in twa!
Oh wae the dell and dingle,
Oh wae the flowering glen;
Oh wae aboot the ingle,
Wae's me baith but and ben'


## p. 9503 (#531) ###########################################

9503
JOHN BACH MCMASTER
(1852-)
HE change in aim and method of the modern historian has
kept pace with the development of the democratic idea.
Where before, in the study and writing of history, the do-
ings of rulers and courts and the working of governmental machinery
have been the chief points of interest, to the exclusion of the every-
day deeds and needs of the nation, the tendency to-day is to lay
emphasis on the life of the people broadly viewed, -the development
of the social organism in all its parts. The feeling behind this
tendency is based on a conviction that the
true vitality of a country depends upon the
healthy growth and general welfare of the
great mass of plain folk,-the working,
struggling, wealth-producing people who
make it up.
The modern historian, in a
word, makes man in the State, irrespective
of class or position, his subject for sympa-
thetic portrayal.
This type of historian is represented by
John Bach McMaster, whose 'History of
the People of the United States' strives to
give a picture of social rather than consti-
tutional and political growth: those phases JOHN BACH MCMASTER
of American history have been treated ably
by Adams, Schouler, and others. Professor McMaster, with admirable
lucidity and simplicity of style, and always with an appeal to fact
precluding the danger of the subjective writing of history to fit a
theory, tells this vital story of the national evolution, and tells it as
it has not been told before. The very title of his work defines its
purpose. It is a history not of the United States, but of the people
of the United States,-like Green's great 'History of the English
People,' another work having the same ideal, the modern attitude.
The period covered in Professor McMaster's plan is that reaching
from the adoption of the Constitution in 1789 to the outbreak of the
Civil War,-less than one hundred years, but a crucial time for
the shaping of the country. The depiction of the formative time,
the day of the pioneer and the settler,- of the crude beginnings of



## p. 9504 (#532) ###########################################

9504
JOHN BACH MCMASTER
civilization, engages his particular attention and receives his most
careful treatment. An example is given in the selection chosen from
his work, which gains warmth and picturesqueness in this way. The
first volume of his work appeared in 1883; the fourth (bringing the
account down to 1821) in 1895. Several volumes must be forthcom-
ing to complete the study. Professor McMaster has allowed himself
space and leisure in order to make an exhaustive survey of the field,
and a synthetic presentation of the material. His history when fin-
ished will be of very great value. His preparation for it began in
1870, when he was a young student, and it will be his life work and
monument.
-
John Bach McMaster was born in Brooklyn, June 29th, 1852; and
received his education at the College of the City of New York, his
graduation year being 1872. He taught a little, studied civil engi-
neering, and in 1877 became instructor in that branch at Princeton.
Thence he was called in 1883 to the University of Pennsylvania, to
take the chair of American history, which he still holds. Professor
McMaster is also an attractive essayist. His 'Benjamin Franklin as
a Man of Letters' (1887) is an excellent piece of biography; and
the volume of papers called 'With the Fathers' (1896) contains a
series of historical portraits sound in scholarship and very readable
in manner. In his insistence on the presenting of the unadorned
truth, his dislike of pseudo-hero worship, Professor McMaster seems at
times iconoclastic. But while he is not entirely free from prejudice,
his intention is to give no false lights to the picture, and few his-
torians have been broader minded and fairer.
TOWN AND COUNTRY LIFE IN 1800
From 'A History of the People of the United States from the Revolution to
the Civil War. D. Appleton & Co. , 1885. Copyright 1885, by John Bach
McMaster.
WHAT
HAT was then known as the far West was Kentucky, Ohio,
and central New York. Into it the emigrants came
streaming along either of two routes. Men from New
England took the most northern, and went out by Albany and
Troy to the great wilderness which lay along the Mohawk and
the lakes. They came by tens of thousands from farms and vil-
lages, and represented every trade, every occupation, every walk
in life, save one: none were seafarers. No whaler left his vessel;
no seaman deserted his mess; no fisherman of Marblehead or
Gloucester exchanged the dangers of a life on the ocean for the


## p. 9505 (#533) ###########################################

JOHN BACH MCMASTER
9505
privations of a life in the West. Their fathers and their uncles
had been fishermen before them, and their sons were to follow
in their steps. Long before a lad could nib a quill, or make a
pot-hook, or read half the precepts his primer contained, he knew
the name of every brace and stay, every sail and part of a Grand
Banker and a Chebacco, all the nautical terms, what line and
hook should be used for catching halibut and what for mackerel
and cod. If he ever learned to write, he did so at "writing-
school," which, like singing-school, was held at night, and to
which he came bringing his own dipped candle, his own paper,
and his own pen. The candlestick was a scooped-out turnip, or
a piece of board with a nail driven through it. His paper he
ruled with a piece of lead, for the graphite lead-pencil was un-
known. All he knew of theology, and much of his knowledge of
reading and spelling, was gained with the help of the New Eng-
land Primer. There is not, and there never was, a text-book so
richly deserving a history as the Primer. The earliest mention
of it in print now known is to be found in an almanac for the
year 1691. The public are there informed that a second impres-
sion is "in press, and will suddenly be extant"; and will con-
tain, among much else that is new, the verses John Rogers the
Martyr made and left as a legacy to his children. When the
second impression became extant, a rude cut of Rogers lashed to
the stake, and while the flames burned fiercely, discoursing to his
wife and nine small children, embellished the verses, as it has
done in every one of the innumerable editions since struck off.
The tone of the Primer is deeply religious. Two thirds of the
four-and-twenty pictures placed before the couplets and triplets
in rhyme, from
to
"In Adam's fall
We sinnèd all,"
"Zaccheus, he
Did climb a tree
Our Lord to see,"
represent Biblical incidents. Twelve "words of six syllables" are
given in the spelling lesson. Five of them are-abomination, edi-
fication, humiliation, mortification, purification. More than half
the book is made up of the Lord's Prayer and the Creed, some
of Watts's hymns, and the whole of that great Catechism which
one hundred and twenty divines spent five years in preparing.
XVI-595


## p. 9506 (#534) ###########################################

9506
JOHN BACH MCMASTER
There too are Mr. Rogers's verses, and John Cotton's 'Spiritual
Milk for American Babes'; exhortations not to cheat at play,
not to lie, not to use ill words, not to call ill names, not to be a
dunce, and to love school. The Primer ends with the famous
dialogue between Christ, Youth, and the Devil.
Moved by pity and a wish to make smooth the rough path to
learning, some kind soul prepared 'A Lottery-Book for Children. '
The only difficulty in teaching children to read was, he thought,
the difficulty of keeping their minds from roaming; and to "pre-
vent this precipitancy" was the object of the 'Lottery-Book. ' On
one side of each leaf was a letter of the alphabet; on the other
two pictures. As soon, he explained, as the child could speak, it
should thrust a pin through the leaf from the side whereon the
pictures were, at the letter on the other, and should continue to
do this till at last the letter was pierced. Turning the leaf after
each trial, the mind of the child would be fixed so often and so
long on the letter that it would ever after be remembered.
The illustrations in the book are beneath those of a patent-
medicine almanac, but are quite as good as any that can be found
in children's books of that day. No child had then ever seen
such specimens of the wood-engraver's and the printer's and the
binder's arts as now, at the approach of every Christmas, issue
from hundreds of presses. The covers of such chap-books were
bits of wood, and the backs coarse leather. On the covers was
sometimes a common blue paper, and sometimes a hideous wall-
paper, adorned with horses and dogs, roosters and eagles, standing
in marvelous attitudes on gilt or copper scrolls. The letterpress
of none
was specially illustrated, but the same cut was used
again and again to express the most opposite ideas. A woman
with a dog holding her train is now Vanity, and now Miss All-
worthy going abroad to buy books for her brother and sister.
A huge vessel with three masts is now a yacht, and now the
ship in which Robinson Crusoe sailed from Hull. The virtuous
woman that is a crown to her husband, and naughty Miss Kitty
Bland, are one and the same. Master Friendly listening to the
minister at church now heads a catechism, and now figures as
Tommy Careless in the 'Adventures of a Week. ' A man and
woman feeding beggars become, in time, transformed into a
servant introducing two misers to his mistress. But no creature
played so many parts as a bird, which after being named an
eagle, a cuckoo, and a kite, is called finally Noah's dove.


## p. 9507 (#535) ###########################################

JOHN BACH MCMASTER
9507
Mean and cheap as such chap-books were, the peddler who
hawked them sold not one to the good wives of a fishing village.
The women had not the money to buy with; the boys had not
the disposition to read. Till he was nine, a lad did little more
than watch the men pitch pennies in the road, listen to sea
stories, and hurry, at the cry of "Rock him," "Squail him," to
help his playmates pelt with stones some unoffending boy from a
neighboring village. By the time he had seen his tenth birth-
day he was old enough not to be seasick, not to cry during a
storm at sea, and to be of some use about a ship; and went on
his first trip to the Banks. The skipper and the crew called him
"cut-tail"; for he received no money save for the fish he caught,
and each one he caught was marked by snipping a piece from
the tail. After an apprenticeship of three or four years the
"cut-tail" became a "header," stood upon the same footing as
the «< sharesmen," and learned all the duties which a
"splitter"
and a «< salter" must perform. A crew numbered eight; four were
"sharesmen" and four were apprentices; went twice a year to
the Banks, and stayed each time from three to five months.
Men who had passed through such a training were under no
temptation to travel westward. They took no interest, they bore
no part in the great exodus. They still continued to make their
trips and bring home their "fares"; while hosts of New-England-
ers poured into New York, opening the valleys, founding cities,
and turning struggling hamlets into villages of no mean kind.
Catskill, in 1792, numbered ten dwellings and owned one vessel
of sixty tons. In 1800 there were in the place one hundred
and fifty-six houses, two ships, a schooner, and eight sloops of
one hundred tons each, all owned there and employed in carry-
ing produce to New York. Six hundred and twenty-four bushels
of wheat were brought to the Catskill market in 1792. Forty-
six thousand one hundred and sixty-four bushels came in 1800.
On a single day in 1801 the merchants bought four thousand
one hundred and eight bushels of wheat, and the same day
eight hundred loaded sleighs came into the village by the west-
ern road. In 1790 a fringe of clearings ran along the western
shore of Lake Champlain to the northern border, and pushed
out through the broad valley between the Adirondacks and the
Catskills to Seneca and Cayuga Lakes. In 1800 the Adirondack
region was wholly surrounded. The emigrants had passed Oneida
Lake, had passed Oswego, and skirting the shores of Ontario


## p. 9508 (#536) ###########################################

9508
JOHN BACH MCMASTER
and the banks of the St. Lawrence, had joined with those on
Lake Champlain. Some had gone down the valleys of the
Delaware and Susquehanna to the southern border of the State.
The front of emigration was far beyond Elmira and Bath. Just
before it went the speculators, the land-jobbers, the men afflicted
with what in derision was called "terraphobia. " They formed
companies and bought millions of acres. They went singly and
purchased whole townships as fast as the surveyors could locate;
buying on trust and selling for wheat, for lumber, for whatever
the land could yield or the settler give. Nor was the pioneer
less infatuated. An irresistible longing drove him westward, and
still westward, till some Indian scalped him, or till hunger, want,
bad food, and exposure broke him down, and the dreaded Genesee
fever swept him away. The moment such a man had built a
log cabin, cleared an acre, girdled the trees, and sowed a hand-
ful of grain, he was impatient to be once more moving. He had
no peace till his little farm was sold, and he had plunged into
the forest to seek a new and temporary home. The purchaser
in time would make a few improvements, clear a few more acres,
plant a little more grain, and then in turn sell and hurry west-
ward. After him came the founders of villages and towns, who,
when the cabins about them numbered ten, felt crowded and
likewise moved away. Travelers through the Genesee valley tell
us they could find no man who had not in this way changed
his abode at least six
times. The hardships which these people
endured is beyond description. Their poverty was extreme.
Nothing was so scarce as food; many a wayfarer was turned
from their doors with the solemn assurance that they had not
enough for themselves. The only window in many a cabin was
a hole in the roof for the smoke to pass through. In the win-
ter the snow beat through the chinks and sifted under the door,
till it was heaped up about the sleepers on the floor before the
fire.
Beyond the Blue Ridge everything was most primitive. Half
the roads were " traces
» and blazed. More than half the houses,
even in the settlements, were log cabins. When a stranger came
to such a place to stay, the men built him a cabin and made
the building an occasion for sport. The trees felled, four corner-
men were elected to notch the logs; and while they were busy
the others ran races, wrestled, played leap-frog, kicked the hat,
fought, gouged, gambled, drank, did everything then considered


## p. 9509 (#537) ###########################################

JOHN BACH MCMASTER
9509
After the notching was finished the raising took
Many a time the cabin was built, roofed, the
door and window cut out, and the owner moved in, before sun-
down. The chinks were stopped with chips and smeared with
mud. The chimney was of logs, coated with mud six inches
thick. The table and the benches, the bedstead and the door,
were such as could be made with an axe, an auger, and a saw.
A rest for the rifle and some pegs for clothes completed the
fittings.
an amusement.
but a few hours.
The clothing of a man was in summer a wool hat, a blue
linsey hunting-shirt with a cape, a belt with a gayly colored
fringe, deerskin or linsey pantaloons, and moccasins and shoe-
packs of tanned leather. Fur hats were not common. A boot
was rarely to be seen. In winter, a striped linsey vest and a
white blanket coat were added. If the coat had buttons- and it
seldom had-they were made by covering slices of a cork with
bits of blanket. Food which he did not obtain by his rifle and
his traps he purchased by barter. Corn was the staple; and no
mills being near, it was pounded between two stones or rubbed
on a grater. Pork cost him twelve cents a pound, and salt
four. Dry fish was a luxury, and brought twenty cents a pound.
Sugar was often as high as forty. When he went to a settle-
ment he spent his time at the billiard-table, or in the "keg
grocery" playing Loo or "Finger in Danger," to determine who
should pay for the whisky consumed. Pious men were terrified
at the drunkenness, the vice, the gambling, the brutal fights,
the gouging, the needless duels they beheld on every hand.
Already the Kentucky boatmen had become more dreaded than
the Indians. "A Kentuc" in 1800 had much the same meaning
that a cowboy" has now. He was the most reckless, fearless,
law-despising of men. A common description of him was half
horse, half alligator, tipped with snapping-turtle.
On a sudden this community, which the preachers had often
called Satan's stronghold, underwent a moral awakening such as
this world had never beheld.
Two young men began the great work in the summer of 1799.
They were brothers, preachers, and on their way across the
pine barrens to Ohio, but turned aside to be present at a sacra-
mental solemnity on Red River. The people were accustomed
to gather at such times on a Friday, and by praying, singing,
and hearing sermons, prepare themselves for the reception of the


## p. 9510 (#538) ###########################################

9510
JOHN BACH MCMASTER
sacrament on Sunday. At the Red River meeting the brothers
were asked to preach, and one did so with astonishing fervor.
As he spoke, the people were deeply moved; tears ran streaming
down their faces, and one, a woman far in the rear of the house,
broke through order and began to shout. For two hours after
the regular preachers had gone, the crowd lingered and were
loath to depart. While they tarried, one of the brothers was
irresistibly impelled to speak. He rose and told them that he
felt called to preach, that he could not be silent. The words
which then fell from his lips roused the people before him "to a
pungent sense of sin. " Again and again the woman shouted,
and would not be silent. He started to go to her. The crowd
begged him to turn back. Something within him urged him on,
and he went through the house shouting and exhorting and
praising God. In a moment the floor, to use his own words,
«< was covered with the slain. " Their cries for mercy were
terrible to hear. Some found forgiveness, but many went away
"spiritually wounded" and suffering unutterable agony of soul.
Nothing could allay the excitement. Every settlement along the
Green River and the Cumberland was full of religious fervor.
Men fitted their wagons with beds and provisions, and traveled
fifty miles to camp upon the ground and hear him preach.
The idea was new; hundreds adopted it, and camp-meetings
began. There was now no longer any excuse to stay away
from preaching. Neither distance, nor lack of houses, nor scar-
city of food, nor daily occupations prevailed. Led by curiosity,
by excitement, by religious zeal, families of every Protestant
denomination — Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians, Episcopalians
-hurried to the camp-ground. Crops were left half gathered;
every kind of work was left undone; cabins were deserted; in
large settlements there did not remain one soul. The first
regular general camp-meeting was held at the Gasper River
Church, in July, 1800; but the rage spread, and a dozen encamp-
ments followed in quick succession. Camp-meeting was always
in the forest near some little church, which served as the preach-
ers' lodge. At one end of a clearing was a rude stage, and
before it the stumps and trunks of hewn trees, on which the
listeners sat. About the clearing were the tents and wagons
ranged in rows like streets. The praying, the preaching, the
exhorting would sometimes last for seven days, and be prolonged
every day until darkness had begun to give way to light.