No More Learning

Methinks that fire
burns from her eyes. ”
Sat the all-crafty
serving-maid close by,
who words fitting found


## p. 5137 (#309) ###########################################

THE EDDAS
5137
against the Jötun's speech :-
“Freyja for eight nights
has not slept,
So eager was she
for Jötunheim. ”
In came the Jötun's
luckless sister;
for a bride-gift
she dared to ask:
“Give me from thy hands
the ruddy rings,
if thou wouldst gain
my love,
my love
and favor all. ”
Then said Thrym,
the Thursar's lord:-
“Bring the hammer in,
the bride to consecrate;
lay Mjöllnir
on the maiden's knee;
unite us each with other
by the hand of Vör. ”
Laughed Hlorridi's
soul in his breast,
when the fierce-hearted
his hammer recognized.
He first slew Thrym,
the Thursar's lord,
and the Jötun's race
all crushed;
He slew the Jötun's
aged sister,
her who a bride-gift
had demanded;
she a blow got
instead of skillings,
a hammer's stroke
for many rings.
So got Odin's son
his hammer back.
Translation of Benjamin Thorpe in “The Edda of Sæmund the Learned)
IX-322


## p. 5138 (#310) ###########################################

5138
THE EDDAS
OF THE LAMENTATION OF GUDRUN OVER SIGURD DEAD
FIRST LAY OF GUDRUN
G
UDRUN of old days
Drew near to dying,
As she sat in sorrow
Over Sigurd ;
Yet she sighed not
Nor smote hand on hand,
Nor wailed she aught
As other women.
Then went earls to her,
Full of all wisdom,
Fain help to deal
To her dreadful heart:
Hushed was Gudrun
Of wail, or greeting,
But with heavy woe
Was her heart a-breaking.
Bright and fair
Sat the great earls' brides,
Gold-arrayed
Before Gudrun;
Each told the tale
Of her great trouble,
The bitterest bale
She erst abode.
Then spake Giaflaug,
Giuki's sister:-
"Lo, upon earth
I live most loveless,
Who of five mates
Must see the ending,
Of daughters twain
And three sisters,
Of brethren eight,
And abide behind lonely. "
Naught gat Gudrun
Of wail or greeting,
So heavy was she


## p. 5139 (#311) ###########################################

THE EDDAS
5139
For her dead husband;
So dreadful-hearted
For the King laid dead there.
Then spake Herborg,
Queen of Hunland:
« Crueler tale
Have I to tell of,
Of my seven sons
Down in the Southlands,
And the eighth man, my mate,
Felled in the death-mead.
“Father and mother,
And four brothers,
On the wide sea
The winds and death played with;
The billows beat
On the bulwark boards.
“Alone must I sing o'er them,
Alone must I array them,
Alone must my hands deal with
Their departing;
And all this was
In one season's wearing,
And none was left
For love or solace.
« Then was I bound
A prey of the battle,
When that same season
Wore to its ending;
As a tiring-may
Must I bind the shoon
Of the duke's high dame,
Every day at dawning.
From her jealous hate
Gat I heavy mocking:
Cruel lashes
She laid upon me;
Never met I
Better master
Or mistress worser
In all the wide world. ”


## p. 5140 (#312) ###########################################

5140
THE EDDAS
Naught gat Gudrun
Of wail or greeting,
So heavy was she
For her dead husband;
So dreadful-hearted
For the King laid dead there.
Then spake Gullrond,
Giuki's daughter:-
« O foster-mother,
Wise as thou mayst be,
Naught canst thou better
The young wife's bale. ”
And she bade uncover
The dead King's corpse.
She swept the sheet
Away from Sigurd,
And turned his cheek
Toward his wife's knees:-
«Look on thy loved one,
Lay lips to his lips,
E'en as thou wert clinging
To thy King alive yet! ”
Once looked Gudrun
One look only,
And saw her lord's locks
Lying all bloody,
The great man's eyes
Glazed and deadly,
And his heart's bulwark
Broken by sword-edge.
Back then sank Gudrun,
Back on the bolster;
Loosed was her head-array,
Red did her cheeks grow,
And the rain-drops ran
Down over her knees.
Then wept Gudrun,
Giuki's daughter,
So that the tears flowed
Through the pillow;
As the geese withal


## p. 5141 (#313) ###########################################

THE EDDAS
5141
That were in the home-field,
The fair fowls the may owned,
Fell a-screaming.
Then spake Gullrond,
Giuki's daughter:-
Surely knew I
No love like your love
Among all men,
On the mold abiding;
Naught wouldst thou joy in
Without or within doors,
O my sister,
Save beside Sigurd. ”
Then spake Gudrun,
Giuki's daughter:-
“Such was my Sigurd
Among the sons of Giuki,
As is the king leek
O'er the low grass waxing,
Or a bright stone
Strung on band,
Or a pearl of price
On a prince's brow.
« Once was I counted
By the king's warriors
Higher than any
Of Herjan's mays;
Now am I as little
As the leaf may be,
Amid wind-swept wood,
Now when dead he lieth.
“I miss from my seat,
I miss from my bed,
My darling of sweet speech.
Wrought the sons of Giuki,
Wrought the sons of Giuki,
This sore sorrow;
Yea, for their sister
Most sore sorrow.
“So may your lands
Lie waste on all sides,


## p. 5142 (#314) ###########################################

5142
THE EDDAS
As ye have broken
Your bounden oaths!
Ne'er shalt thou, Gunnar,
The gold have joy of;
The dear-bought rings
Shall drag thee to death,
Whereon thou swarest
Oath unto Sigurd.
“Ah, in the days bygone,
Great mirth in the home-field,
When my Sigurd
Set saddle on Grani,
And they went their ways
For the wooing of Brynhild!
An ill day, an ill woman,
And most ill hap! ”
Then spake Brynhild,
Budli's daughter:-
May the woman lack
Both love and children,
Who gained greeting
For thee, O Gudrun!
Who gave thee this morning
Many words! »
Then spake Gullrond,
Giuki's daughter :-
«Hold peace of such words,
Thou hated of all folk!
The bane of brave men
Hast thou been ever;
All waves of ill
Wash over thy mind;
To seven great kings
Hast thou been a sore sorrow,
And the death of good-will
To wives and women. ”
Then spake Brynhild,
Budli's daughter:-
"None but Atli
Brought bale upon us;
My very brother,
Born of Budli,


## p. 5143 (#315) ###########################################

THE EDDAS
5143
When we saw in the hall
Of the Hunnish people
The gold a-gleaming
On the kingly Giukings:
I have paid for that faring
Oft and fully,
And for the sight
That then I saw. "
By a pillar she stood
And strained its wood to her;
From the eyes of Brynhild,
Budli's daughter,
Flashed out fire,
And she snorted forth venom,
As the sore wounds she gazed on
Of the dead-slain Sigurd.
William Morris in “The Story of the Völsungs and Niblungs); translated by
Magnusson and Morris, London, 1870
THE WAKING OF BRUNHILDE ON THE HINDFELL BY SIGURD
From “The Story of Sigurd the Völsung,' by William Morris
H*
E LOOKETH, and loveth her sore, and he longeth her spirit to
move,
And awaken her heart to the world, that she may behold him
and love.
And he toucheth her breast and her hands, and he loveth her pass-
ing sore;
And he saith, “Awake! I am Sigurd;” but she moveth never the
more.
Then he looked on his bare bright blade, and he said, “Thou — what
wilt thou do?
For indeed as I came by the war-garth thy voice of desire I knew. ”
Bright burnt the pale blue edges, for the sunrise drew anear,
And the rims of the Shield-burg glittered, and the east was exceed-
ing clear:
So the eager edges he setteth to the Dwarf-wrought battle-coat
Where the hammered ring-knit collar constraineth the woman's
throat;
But the sharp Wrath biteth and rendeth, and before it fail the rings,
And, lo, the gleam of the linen, and the light of golden things;


## p. 5144 (#316) ###########################################

5144
THE EDDAS
Then he driveth the blue steel onward, and through the skirt, and
out,
Till naught but the rippling linen is wrapping her about;
Then he deems her breath comes quicker and her breast begins to
heave,
So he turns about the War-Flame and rends down either sleeve,
Till her arms lie white in her raiment, and a river of sun-bright
hair
Flows free o'er bosom and shoulder and floods the desert bare.
Then a flush cometh over her visage and a sigh upheaveth her
breast,
And her eyelids quiver and open, and she wakeneth into rest;
Wide-eyed on the dawning she gazeth, too glad to change or smile,
And but little moveth her body, nor speaketh she yet for a while;
And yet kneels Sigurd moveless, her wakening speech to heed,
While soft the waves of the daylight o'er the starless heavens speed,
And the gleaming rims of the Shield-burg yet bright and brighter
grow,
And the thin moon hangeth her horns dead-white in the golden glow.
Then she turned and gazed on Sigurd, and her eyes met the Völ-
sung's eyes,
And mighty and measureless now did the tide of his love arise.
For their longing had met and mingled, and he knew of her heart
that she loved,
As she spake unto nothing but him, and her lips with the speech-flood
moved :-
“Oh, what is the thing so mighty that my weary sleep hath torn,
And rent the fallow bondage, and the wan woe over-worn ? »
He said, “The hand of Sigurd and the Sword of Sigmund's son,
And the heart that the Völsungs fashioned, this deed for thee have
done. ”
But she said, “Where then is Odin that laid me here alow?
Long lasteth the grief of the world, and man-folk's tangled woe! »
“He dwelleth above,” said Sigurd, “but I on the earth abide,
And I came from the Glittering Heath the waves of thy fire to ride. ”
But therewith the sun rose upward and lightened all the earth,
And the light flashed up to the heavens from the rims of the glo-
rious girth;
Then they turned and were knit together; and oft and o'er again
They craved, and kissed rejoicing, and their hearts were full and fain.


## p. 5145 (#317) ###########################################

5145
ALFRED EDERSHEIM
(1825-1889)
MONG writers on Biblical topics Dr. Alfred Edersheim occupies
a unique place. Bred in the Jewish faith, he brought to his
writings the traditions of his ancestry. The history of the
Children of Israel was a reality to him, who had known the Talmud
and the Old Testament through the lessons of his boyhood, and had
been taught to reverence the Hebrew sacred rites handed down
through the ages. All the intangible, unconscious religious influences
of his youth entered into the work of his manhood. And although
this converted Rabbi wrote as a Christian, yet the Bible stories were
colored and vivified for him by his Jewish sympathies. Thus his
work had the especial value of a double point of view.
Born in Vienna in 1825 of German parents, he studied at the uni-
versity of his native city and in Berlin, finishing his theological edu-
cation in Edinburgh. He became a minister of the Free Church of
Scotland in 1849, passing over to the Church of England in 1875.
In 1881 he received from Oxford an honorary A. M. , and was for a
time lecturer on the Septuagint at the university. He died in Men-
tone, France, on March 16th, 1889.
The earlier writings of Dr. Edersheim consist almost entirely of
translations from the German, and of Jewish stories written for edu-
cational purposes. Of his later works the most important are — _' The
Bible History,' his largest work, in seven volumes; «The Temple, its
Ministers and Services as they were at the Time of Christ'; (Sketches
of Jewish Social Life in the Days of Christ'; and a History of the
Jewish Nation after the Destruction of Jerusalem under Titus. From
the evangelical point of view, his Life and Times of Jesus the Mes-
siah’ is of final authority, brilliantly exemplifying his peculiar fitness
to be the interpreter of Jewish life and thought at the period of the
rise of Christianity. He presents not only the story of the Christ of
the Gospels, but draws a picture of the whole political and social life
of the Jews, and of their intellectual and religious condition a pic-
ture which his Rabbinical learning and his race sympathies make
authentic. He wrote English with unaffected directness, embodying
in the simplest forms the results of his wide scholarship. His books
have a very wide and constant sale.


## p. 5146 (#318) ###########################################

5146
ALFRED EDERSHEIM
THE WASHING OF HANDS
From «The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah)
THE
He externalism of all these practices (ceremonial practices of
the Hebrews] will best appear from the following account
which the Talmud gives of "a feast. ” As the guests enter,
they sit down on chairs, and water is brought to them, with
which they wash one hand. Into this the cup is taken, when
each speaks the blessing over the wine partaken of before din-
ner. Presently they all lie down at table. Water is again brought
them, with which they now wash both hands, preparatory to
the meal, when the blessing is spoken over the bread, and then
over the cup, by the chief person at the feast, or else by one
selected by way of distinction. The company respond by Amen,
always supposing the benediction to have been spoken by an
Israelite, not a heathen, slave, nor law-breaker. Nor was it law.
ful to say it with an unlettered man, although it might be said
with a Cuthæan (heretic, or Samaritan,) who was learned. After
dinner the crumbs, if any, are carefully gathered — hands are
again washed, and he who first had done so leads in the prayer
of thanksgiving. The formula in which he is to call on the rest
to join him by repeating the prayers after him is prescribed, and
differs according to the number of those present. The blessing
and the thanksgiving are allowed to be said not only in Hebrew,
but in any other language.
In regard to the position of the guests, we know that the
uppermost seats were occupied by the Rabbis. The Talmud
formulates it in this manner: That the worthiest lies down first,
on his left side, with his feet hanging down. If there are two
cushions” (divans), the next worthiest lies at his feet; if there
are three cushions, the third worthiest lies above the first (at his
left), so that the chief person is in the middle. The water
before eating is first handed to the worthiest, and so in regard
to the washing after meat. But if a very large number are
present, you begin after dinner with the least worthy till you
come to the last five, when the worthiest in the company washes
his hands, and the other four after him. The guests being thus
arranged, the head of the house, or the chief person at table,
speaks the blessing and then cuts the bread. By some it was
not deemed etiquette to begin till after he who had said the


## p. 5147 (#319) ###########################################

ALFRED EDERSHEIM
5147
prayer had done so, but this does not seem to have been the
rule among the Palestinian Jews. Then, generally, the bread
was dipped into salt or something salted, etiquette demanding
that where there were two they should wait one for the other,
but not where there were three or more.
This is not the place to furnish what may be termed a list of
menus at Jewish tables. In earlier times the meal was no doubt
very simple. It became otherwise when intercourse with Rome,
Greece, and the East made the people familiar with foreign lux-
ury, while commerce supplied its requirements. Indeed, it would
scarcely be possible to enumerate the various articles which seem
to have been imported from different, and even distant, countries.
To begin with: The wine was mixed with water, and indeed,
some thought that the benediction should not be pronounced till
the water had been added to the wine. According to one state-
ment two parts, according to another three parts, of water were
to be added to the wine. Various vintages are mentioned: among
them a red wine of Saron, and a black wine. Spiced wine was
made with honey and pepper. Another mixture, chiefly used for
invalids, consisted of old wine, water, and balsam; yet another
was “wine of myrrh ”; we also read of a wine in which capers
had been soaked. To these we should add wine spiced either
with pepper or with absinthe, and what is described as vinegar, a
cooling drink made either of grapes that had not ripened, or of
the lees. Besides these, palm wine was also in use. Of foreign
drinks, we read of wine from Ammon and from the province
Asia, the latter a kind of “must” boiled down. Wine in ice
came from Lebanon; a certain kind of vinegar from Idumæa;
beer from Media and Babylon; barley wine (zythos) from Egypt.
Finally, we ought to mention Palestinian apple cider, and the
juice of other fruits. If we adopt the rendering of some, even
liqueurs were known and used.
Long as this catalogue is, that of the various articles of food,
whether native or imported, would occupy a much larger space.
Suffice it that as regarded the various kinds of grain, meat, fish,
and fruits, either in their natural state or preserved, it embraced
almost everything known to the ancient world. At feasts there
was an introductory course, consisting of appetizing salted meat,
or of some light dish. This was followed by the dinner itself,
which finished with dessert (aphikomon or terugima), consisting of
pickled olives, radishes and lettuce, and fruits, among which even


## p. 5148 (#320) ###########################################

5148
ALFRED EDERSHEIM
preserved ginger from India is mentioned. The most diverse
and even strange statements are made as to the healthiness, or
the reverse, of certain articles of diet, especially vegetables. Fish
was a favorite dish, and never wanting at a Sabbath meal. It
was a saying that both salt and water should be taken at every
meal, if health was to be preserved. Condiments, such as mus-
tard or pepper, were to be sparingly used. Very different were
the meals of the poor.
Locusts— fried in flour or honey, or pre-
served - required, according to the Talmud, no blessing; since the
animal was really among the curses of the land. Eggs were a
common article of food, and sold in the shops. Then there was
a milk dish, into which people dipped their bread. Others who
were better off had a soup made of vegetables, especially onions,
and meat; while the very poor would satisfy the cravings of hun-
ger with bread and cheese, or bread and fruit, or some vegetables,
such as cucumbers, lentils, beans, peas, or onions.
At meals the rules of etiquette were strictly observed, espe-
cially as regarded the sages. Indeed, there are added to the
Talmud two tractates, one describing the general etiquette, the
other that of sages, » of which the title may be translated as
(The Way of the World (Derech Eres), being a sort of code of
good manners. According to some, it was not good breeding
to speak while eating. The learned and most honored occupied
not only the chief places, but were sometimes distinguished by a
double portion. According to Jewish etiquette, a guest should
conform in everything to his host, even though it were unpleas-
ant. Although hospitality was the greatest and most prized
social virtue, which, to use a rabbinic expression, might make
every home a sanctuary and every table an altar, an unbidden
guest, or a guest who brought another guest, was proverbially
an unwelcome apparition. Sometimes, by way of self-righteous-
ness, the poor were brought in, and the best part of the meal
ostentatiously given to them. At ordinary entertainments, people
were to help themselves. It was not considered good manners
to drink as soon as you were asked, but you ought to hold the
cup for a little in your hand. But it would be the height of
rudeness either to wipe the plates, to scrape together the bread,
as though you had not had enough to eat, or to drop it, to the
inconvenience of your neighbor. If a piece were taken out of a
dish, it must of course not be put back; still less must you offer
from your cup or plate to your neighbor. From the almost


## p. 5149 (#321) ###########################################

ALFRED EDERSHEIM
5149
religious value attaching to bread, we scarcely wonder that these
rules were laid down: not to steady a cup or plate upon bread, nor
to throw away bread, and that after dinner the bread was to be
carefully swept together. Otherwise, it was thought, demons
would sit upon it. (The Way of the World' for sages lays
down these as the marks of a rabbi: that he does not eat stand-
ing; that he does not lick his fingers; that he sits down only
beside his equals — in fact, many regarded it as wrong to eat
with the unlearned; that he begins cutting the bread where it is
best baked, nor ever breaks off a bit with his hand; and that
when drinking, he turns away his face from the company.
other saying was, that the sage was known by four things: at
his cups, in money matters, when angry, and in his jokes. After
dinner, the formalities concerning hand-washing and prayer,
already described, were gone through, and then frequently aro-
matic spices burnt, over which a special benediction was pro-
nounced. We have only to add that on Sabbaths it was deemed
a religious duty to have three meals, and to procure the best
that money could obtain, even though one were to save and fast
for it all the week. Lastly, it was regarded as a special obliga-
tion and honor to entertain sages.
We have no difficulty now in understanding what passed at
the table of the Pharisee. When the water for purification was
presented to him, Jesus would either refuse it, or if, as
more likely at a morning meal, each guest repaired by himself for
the prescribed purification, he would omit to do so, and sit
down to meat without this formality. No one who knows the
stress which Pharisaism laid on this rite would argue that Jesus
might have conformed to the practice. Indeed, the controversy
was long and bitter between the Schools of Shammai and Hillel,
on such a point as whether the hands were to be washed before
the cup was filled with wine, or after that, and where the towel
was to be deposited. With such things the most serious ritual
inferences were connected on both sides. A religion which spent
its energy on such trivialities must have lowered the moral tone.
All the more that Jesus insisted so earnestly, as the substance of
his teaching, on that corruption of our nature which Judaism
ignored and on that spiritual purification which was needful for
the reception of his doctrine, - would he publicly and openly
set aside ordinances of man which diverted thoughts of purity
into questions of the most childish character. On the other hand,
seems


## p. 5150 (#322) ###########################################

5150
ALFRED EDERSHEIM
a
we can also understand what bitter thoughts must have filled the
mind of the Pharisee whose guest Jesus was, when he observed
his neglect of the cherished rite. It was an insult to himself,
defiance of Jewish law, a revolt against the most cherished tra-
ditions of the synagogue.
Remembering that a Pharisee ought
not to sit down to a meal with such, he might feel that he should
not have asked Jesus to his table.


## p. 5151 (#323) ###########################################

5151
MARIA EDGEWORTH
(1767-1849)
were
He famous author of Irish novels and didactic tales was the
daughter of Richard Lovell Edgeworth and his first wife
Chelo Anna Ehrs, and was born at Black Bourton, Oxfordshire,
January ist, 1767. When she was twelve years old the family set-
tled on the estate at Edgeworth's-town, County Longford, Ireland,
which was her home during the remainder of her long life. It was
a singularly happy family circle, of which Maria was the centre.
Her father married four times, and had twenty-two children, on
whom he exercised his peculiar educational
ideas. He devoted himself most particu-
larly to Maria's training, and made her his
most confidential companion. Several of
her works
written in conjunction
with her father, and over almost all he
exercised a supervision which doubtless
hindered the free expression of her genius.
Her first publication, Letters to Literary
Ladies,' on the education of women, ap-
peared in 1795. This was followed by
educational and juvenile works illustrating
the theories of Mr. Edgeworth: The Par MARIA EDGEWORTH
ent's Assistant,' Practical Education' (a
joint production), supplemented later by Early Lessons'; Rosamond,'
Harry and Lucy,' and a sequel to the 'Parent's Assistant. " In 1800
appeared Castle Rackrent,' the first of her novels of Irish life, and
her best known work; soon followed by Belinda,' and the well-known
(Essay on Irish Bulls,' by her father and herself. Miss Edgeworth's
reputation was now established, and on a visit to Paris at this time
she received much attention. Here occurred the one recorded romance
of her life, the proposal of marriage from Count Edelcrantz, a Swedish
gentleman. On her return she wrote Leonora. In 1804 she pub-
lished Popular Tales'; in 1809 the first series of Fashionable Tales. '
These tales include Almeria) and (The Absentee, considered by
many critics her masterpiece. «Patronage was begun years before
as “The Freeman Family. ' In 1817 she published Harrington and
Ormond,' which rank among her best works. In the same year her
father died, leaving to her the completion of his Memoirs, which



## p. 5152 (#324) ###########################################

5152
MARIA EDGEWORTH
appeared in 1820. Her last novel, (Helen,' published in 1834, shows
no diminution of her charm and grace. With occasional visits to
Paris and London, and a memorable trip to Scotland in 1823, when
she was entertained at Abbotsford, she lived serene and happy at
Edgeworth's-town until her sudden death, May 21st 1849.
Miss Edgeworth was extremely small, not beautiful; but a brilliant
talker and a great favorite in the exclusive society to which she
everywhere had access. Her greatest success was in the new field
opened in her Irish stories, full of racy, rollicking Irish humor, and
valuable pictures of bygone conditions,— for the genial peasant of her
pages is now rarely found. Not the least we owe her is the influ-
ence which her national tales had on Sir Walter Scott, who declared
that her success led him to do the same for his own country in the
Waverley Novels. Miss Edgeworth's style is easy and animated. Her
tales show her extraordinary power of observation, her good sense,
and remarkable skill in dialogue, though they are biased by the
didactic purpose which permeates all her writings. As Madame de
Staël remarked, she was “lost in dreary utility. ” And doubtless this
is why she just missed greatness, and has been consigned to the
ranks of (standard” authors who are respectfully alluded to but sel-
dom read. The lack of tenderness and imagination was perhaps the
result of her unusual self-control, shown in her custom of writing in
the family sitting-room, and so concentrating her mind on her work
that she was deaf to all that went on about her. Surely some of the
creative power of her mind must have been lost in that strenuous
effort. Her noble character, as well as her talents, won for her the
friendship of many distinguished people of her day. With Scott she
was intimate, Byron found her charming and Macaulay was
enthusiastic admirer. In her recently edited letters are found many
interesting and valuable accounts of the people she met in the course
of her long life.
Miss Edgeworth's life has been written by Helen Zimmern and
Grace A. Oliver; her (Life and Letters,' edited by Augustus J. C.
Hare, appeared in 1895.
Pen Portraits of Literary Women,' by
Helen Gray Cone and Jeannette L. Gilder, contains a sketch of her.
an


## p. 5153 (#325) ###########################################

MARIA EDGEWORTH
5153
SIR CONDY'S WAKE
From Castle Rackrent)
W**
HEN they were made sensible that Sir Condy was going to
leave Castle Rackrent for good and all, they set up a
whillaluh that could be heard to the farthest end of the
street; and one fine boy he was, that my master had given an
apple to that morning, cried the loudest; but they all were the
same sorry, for Sir Condy was greatly beloved among the child-
her, for letting them go a-nutting in the demesne without saying
a word to them, though my lady objected to them. The people
in the town, who were the most of them standing at their doors,
hearing the childher cry, would know the reason of it; and when
the report was made known the people one and all gathered in
great anger against my son Jason, and terror at the notion of
his coming to be landlord over them, and they cried, “No Jason !
no Jason! Sir Condy! Sir Condy! Sir Condy Rackrent forever! »
and the mob grew so great and so loud I was frightened, and
made my way back to the house to warn my son to make his
escape or hide himself, for fear of the consequences. Jason
would not believe me till they came all round the house and
to the windows with great shouts; then he grew quite pale, and
asked Sir Condy what had he best do? "I'll tell you what you'd
best do,” said Sir Condy, who was laughing to see his fright:
finish your glass first; then let's go to the window and show
ourselves, and I'll tell 'em, or you shall if you please, that I'm
going to the lodge for change of air for my health, and by my
own desire, for the rest of my days. " "Do so,” said Jason who
never meant it should have been so, but could not refuse him
the lodge at this unseasonable time. Accordingly Sir Condy
threw up the sash and explained matters, and thanked all his
friends, and bid 'em look in at the punch-bowl, and observe that
Jason and he had been sitting over it very good friends; so the
mob was content, and he sent 'em out some whisky to drink his
health, and that was the last time his Honor's health was ever
drunk at Castle Rackrent.
The very next day, being too proud, as he said to me, to stay
an hour longer in a house that did not belong to him, he sets
off to the lodge, and I along with him not many hours after.
And there was great bemoaning through all O'Shaughlin's Town,
IX-323


## p. 5154 (#326) ###########################################

5154
MARIA EDGEWORTH
which I stayed to witness, and gave my poor master a full account
of when I got to the lodge. He was very low and in his bed
when I got there, and complained of a great pain about his
heart; but I guessed it was only trouble, and all the business,
let alone vexation, he had gone through of late; and knowing
the nature of him from a boy, I took my pipe, and while smok-
ing it by the chimney, began telling him how he was beloved
and regretted in the county, and it did him a deal of good to
hear it. “Your Honor has a great many friends yet, that you
don't know of, rich and poor in the country,” says I; "for as I
was coming along the road, I met two gentlemen in their own
carriages, who asked after you, knowing me, and wanted to
know where you was, and all about you, and even how old I
was: think of that! ” Then he wakened out of his doze, and be-
gan questioning me who the gentlemen were. And the next
morning it came into my head to go, unknown to anybody, with
my master's compliments, round to many of the gentlemen's
houses where he and my lady used to visit, and people that I
knew were his great friends, and would go to Cork to serve him
any day in the year, and I made bold to try to borrow a trifle
of cash from them. They all treated me very civil for the most
part, and asked a great many questions very kind about my
lady and Sir Condy and all the family, and were greatly sur-
prised to learn from me Castle Rackrent was sold, and my mas-
ter at the lodge for health; and they all pitied him greatly, and
he had their good wishes, if that would do, but money was a
thing they unfortunately had not any of them at this time to
spare. I had my journey for my pains, and I, not used to walk-
ing, nor supple as formerly, was greatly tired, but had the satis-
faction of telling my master, when I got to the lodge, all the
civil things said by high and low.
« Thady,” says he, "all you've been telling me brings a
strange thought into my head: I've a notion I shall not be long
for this world anyhow, and I've a great fancy to see my own
funeral afore I die. ” I was greatly shocked at the first speak-
ing, to hear him speak so light about his funeral, and he to all
appearances in good health, but recollecting myself answered: -
To be sure it would be as fine a sight as one could see, I
dared to say, and one I should be proud to witness; and I did
not doubt his Honor's would be as great a funeral as ever Sir
Patrick O'Shaughlin's was, and such a as that had never


## p. 5155 (#327) ###########################################

MARIA EDGEWORTH
5155
been known in the county before or since. ” But I never thought
he was in earnest about seeing his own funeral himself, till the
next day he returns to it again. « Thady,” says he, “as far as
the wake goes, sure I might without any great trouble have the
satisfaction of seeing a bit of my own funeral. ” “Well, since
your Honor's Honor's so bent upon it,” says I, not willing to
cross him, and he in trouble, we must see what we can do. "
So he fell into a sort of a sham disorder, which was easy done,
as he kept his bed and no one to see him; and I got my shister,
who was an old woman very handy about the sick, and
very
skillful, to come up to the lodge to nurse him; and we gave out,
she knowing no better, that he was just at his latter end, and it
answered beyond anything; and there was a great throng of peo-
ple, men, women, and children, and there being only two rooms
at the lodge, except what was locked up full of Jason's furniture
and things, the house was soon as full and fuller than it could
hold, and the heat and smoke and noise wonderful great; and
standing among them that were near the bed, but not thinking
at all of the dead, I was startled by the sound of my master's
voice from under the greatcoats that had been thrown all at
top, and I went close up, no one noticing. “Thady,” says he,
"I've had enough of this; I'm smothering, and can't hear a word
of all they're saying of the deceased. ” “God bless you, and lie
still and quiet,” says I, “a bit longer; for my shister's afraid of
ghosts and would die on the spot with fright, was she to see
you come to life all on a sudden this way without the least
preparation. " So he lays him still, though well-nigh stifled, and
I made all haste to tell the secret of the joke, whispering to one
and t’other, and there was a great surprise, but not so great as
we had laid out it would. And aren't we to have the pipes
and tobacco, after coming so far to-night? ” said some; but they
were all well enough pleased when his Honor got up to drink
with them, and sent for more spirits from a shebean-house,
where they very civilly let him have it upon credit. So the
night passed off very merrily, but to my mind Sir Condy was
rather upon the sad order in the midst of it all, not finding there
had been such a great talk about himself after his death as he
had always expected to hear.


## p. 5156 (#328) ###########################################

5156
MARIA EDGEWORTH
SIR MURTAGH RACKRENT AND HIS LADY
From Castle Rackrent)
N°
ow it was that the world was to see what was in Sir Patrick.
On coming into the estate he gave the finest entertainment
ever was heard of in the country; not a man could stand
after supper but Sir Patrick himself, who could sit out the best
man in Ireland, let alone the three kingdoms itself. He had his
house, from one year's end to another, as full of company as
ever it could hold, and fuller; for rather than be left out of the
parties at Castle Rackrent, many gentlemen, and those men of the
first consequence and landed estates in the country,- such as the
O'Neils of Ballynagrotty, and the Moneygawls of Mount Juliet's
Town, and O'Shannons of New Town Tullyhog, - made it their
choice often and often, when there was no moon to be had for
love nor money, in long winter nights, to sleep in the chicken-
house, which Sir Patrick had fitted up for the purpose of ac-
commodating his friends and the public in general, who honored
him with their company unexpectedly at Castle Rackrent; and
this went on I can't tell you how long: the whole country rang
with his praises - long life to him! I'm sure I love to look upon
his picture, now opposite to me; though I never saw him, he
must have been a portly gentleman - his neck something short,
and remarkable for the largest pimple on his nose, which by his
particular desire is still extant in his picture, said to be a strik-
ing likeness though taken when young: He is said also to be
the inventor of raspberry whisky; which is very likely, as nobody
has ever appeared to dispute it with him, and as there still ex-
ists a broken punch-bowl at Castle Rackrent in the garret, with
an inscription to that effect - a great curiosity. A few days be-
fore his death he was very merry; it being his Honor's birthday,
he called my grandfather in, God bless him! to drink the com-
pany's health, and filled a bumper himself, but could not carry
it to his head on account of the great shake in his hand; on this
he cast his joke, saying: -“What would my poor father say to me
if he was to pop out of the grave and see me now? I remem-
ber when I was a little boy, the first bumper of claret he gave
me after dinner, how he praised me for carrying it so steady to
my mouth. Here's my thanks to him a bumper toast. ” Then
ne fell to singing the favorite song he learned from his father -


## p. 5157 (#329) ###########################################

MARIA EDGEWORTH
5157
for the last time, poor gentleman; he sung it that night as loud
and as hearty as ever, with a chorus:
«He that goes to bed, and goes to bed sober,
Falls as the leaves do,
Falls as the leaves do, and dies in October;
But he that goes to bed, and goes to bed mellow,
Lives as he ought to do,
Lives as he ought to do, and dies an honest fellow. ”
Sir Patrick died that night: just as the company rose to drink
his health with three cheers, he fell down in a sort of fit, and was
carried off; they sat it out, and were surprised, on inquiry in the
morning, to find that it was all over with poor Sir Patrick. Never
did any gentleman live and die more beloved in the country by
rich and poor.
His funeral was such a one as was never known
before or since in the county! All the gentlemen in the three
counties were at it; far and near, how they flocked! My great-
grandfather said that to see all the women even in their red
cloaks, you would have taken them for the army drawn out.
Then such a fine whillaluh! you might have heard it to the
farthest end of the county, and happy the man who could get but
a sight of the hearse! But who'd have thought it ? just as all was
going on right, through his own town they were passing, when
the body was seized for debt: a rescue was apprehended from the
mob, but the heir, who attended the funeral, was against that
for fear of consequences, seeing that those villains who came to
serve acted under the disguise of the law; so, to be sure, the
law must take its course, and little gain had the creditors for
their pains. First and foremost, they had the curses of the coun-
try; and Sir Murtagh Rackrent, the new heir, in the next place,
on account of this affront to the body, refused to pay a shilling
of the debts, in which he was countenanced by all the best gen-
tlemen of property, and others of his acquaintance. Sir Murtagh
alleging in all companies, that he all along meant to pay his
father's debts of honor, but the moment the law was taken of
him there was an end of honor to be sure. It was whispered
(but none but the enemies of the family believed it) that this
was all a sham seizure to get quit of the debts, which he had
bound himself to pay in honor.
It's a long time ago, there's no saying how it was, but this
for certain: the new man did not take at all after the old


## p. 5158 (#330) ###########################################

5158
MARIA EDGEWORTH
1
1
1
gentleman; the cellars were never filled after his death, and no
open house or anything as it used to be; the tenants even were
sent away without their whisky. I was ashamed myself, and
knew not what to say for the honor of the family; but I made the
best of a bad case, and laid it all at my lady's door, for I did not
like her anyhow, nor anybody else; she was of the family of the
Skinflints, and a widow; it was a strange match for Sir Murtagh;
the people in the country thought he demeaned himself greatly,
but I said nothing: I knew how it was; Sir Murtagh was a great
lawyer, and looked to the great Skinflint estate; there however
he overshot himself; for though one of the co-heiresses, he was
never the better for her, for she outlived him many's the long
day — he could not see that, to be sure, when he married her. I
must say for her, she made him the best of wives, being a very
notable stirring woman, and looking close to everything. But I
always suspected she had Scotch blood in her veins; anything
else I could have looked over in her from a regard to the fam-
ily. She was a strict observer for self and servants of Lent, and
all fast days, but not holy days. One of the maids having fainted
three time the last day of Lent, to keep soul and body together
we put a morsel of roast beef in her mouth, which came from
Sir Murtagh's dinner,— who never fasted, not he; but somehow or
other it unfortunately reached my lady's ears, and the priest of
the parish had a complaint made of it the next day, and the poor
girl was forced as soon as she could walk to do penance for it,
before she could get any peace or absolution, in the house or out
of it. However, my lady was very charitable in her own way.
She had a charity school for poor children, where they were
taught to read and write gratis, and where they were kept well
to spinning gratis for my lady in return; for she had always
heaps of duty yarn from the tenants, and got all her household
linen out of the estate from first to last; for after the spinning,
the weavers on the estate took it in hand for nothing, because of
the looms my lady's interest could get from the linen board to
distribute gratis. Then there was a bleach-yard near us, and the
tenant dare refuse my lady nothing, for fear of a law suit Sir
Murtagh kept hanging over him about the water-course.
With these ways of managing, 'tis surprising how cheap my
lady got things done, and how proud she was of it. Her table,
the same way, kept for next to nothing,-duty fowls, and duty
turkeys, and duty geese came as fast as we could eat 'em, for


## p. 5159 (#331) ###########################################

MARIA EDGEWORTH
5159
sure.
SO
my lady kept a sharp lookout, and knew to a tub of butter
everything the tenants had, all round. They knew her way, and
what with fear of driving for rent and Sir Murtagh's lawsuits,
they were kept in such good order, they never thought of com-
ing near Castle Rackrent without a present of something or
other — nothing too much or too little for my lady: eggs, honey,
butter, meal, fish, game, grouse, and herrings, fresh or salt, all
went for something. As for their young pigs, we had them, and
the best bacon and hams they could make up, with all young
chickens in spring; but they were a set of poor wretches, and
we had nothing but misfortunes with them, always breaking and
running away. This, Sir Murtagh and my lady said, was all
their former landlord Sir Patrick's fault, who let 'em all get the
half-year's rent into arrear; there was something in that, to be
But Sir Murtagh was as much the contrary way; for let
alone making English tenants of them, every soul, he was always
driving and driving and pounding and pounding, and canting
and canting and replevying and replevying, and he made a good
living of trespassing cattle; there was always some tenant's pig,
or horse, or cow, or calf, or goose trespassing, which was
great a gain to Sir Murtagh that he did not like to hear me
talk of repairing fences. Then his heriots and duty work brought
him in something; his turf was cut, his potatoes set and dug,
his hay brought home, and in short, all the work about his house
done for nothing; for in all our leases there were strict clauses
heavy with penalties, which Sir Murtagh knew well how to en-
force: so many days' duty work of man and horse from every
tenant he was to have, and had, every year; and when a man
vexed him, why, the finest day he could pitch on, when the
cratur was getting in his own harvest, or thatching his cabin, Sir
Murtagh made it a principle to call upon him and his horse; so
he taught 'em all, as he said, to know the law of landlord and
tenant.
As for law, I believe no man, dead or alive, ever loved it so
well as Sir Murtagh. He had once sixteen suits pending at a
time, and I never saw him so much himself; roads, lanes, bogs,
wells, ponds, eel weirs, orchards, trees, tithes, vagrants, gravel
pits, sand pits, dung-hills, and nuisances,-everything upon the
face of the earth furnished him good matter for a suit. He used
to boast that he had a law suit for every letter in the alphabet.
How I used to wonder to see Sir Murtagh in the midst of the


## p. 5160 (#332) ###########################################

5160
MARIA EDGEWORTH
papers in his office! Why, he could hardly turn about for them.
I made bold to shrug my shoulders once in his presence, and
thank my stars I was not born a gentleman to so much toil and
trouble; but Sir Murtagh took me up short with his old proverb,
“Learning is better than house or land. ” Out of forty-nine suits
which he had, he never lost one but seventeen; the rest he
gained with costs, double costs, treble costs sometimes; but even
that did not pay. He was a very learned man in the law, and
had the character of it; but how it was I can't tell, these suits
that he carried cost him a power of money: in the end he sold
some hundreds a year of the family estate: but he was a very
learned man in the law, and I know nothing of the matter, ex-
cept having a great regard for the family; and I could not help
grieving when he sent me to post up notices of the sale of the
fee-simple of the lands and appurtenances of Timoleague. "I
know, honest Thady,” says he to comfort me, “what I'm about
better than you do; I'm only selling to get the ready money
wanting to carry on my suit with spirit with the Nugents of
Carrickashaughlin. ”
He was very sanguine about that suit with the Nugents of
Carrickashaughlin. He could have gained it, they say, for cer-
tain, had it pleased Heaven to have spared him to us, and it
would have been at the least a plump two thousand a year in
his way; but things were ordered otherwise, — for the best, to be
He dug up a fairy mount against my advice, and had no
luck afterward. Though a learned man in the law, he was a
little too incredulous in other matters. I warned him that I
heard the very Banshee that my grandfather heard under Sir
Patrick's window a few days before his death. But Sir Murtagh
thought nothing of the Banshee, nor of his cough with a spitting
of blood, - brought on, I understand, by catching cold in attend-
ing the courts, and overstraining his chest with making himself
heard in one of his favorite causes. He was a great speaker,
with a powerful voice; but his last speech was not in the courts
at all. He and my lady, though both of the same way of think-
ing in some things, and though she was as good a wife and
great economist as you could see, and he the best of husbands
as to looking into his affairs, and making money for his family,–
yet I don't know how it was, they had a great deal of sparring
and jarring between them. My lady had her privy purse, and
she had her weed ashes, and her sealing money upon the signing
sure.


## p. 5161 (#333) ###########################################

MARIA EDGEWORTH
5161
All on
of all the leases, with something to buy gloves besides; and
besides, again, often took money from the tenants, if offered
properly, to speak for them to Sir Murtagh about abatements
and renewals. Now the weed ashes and the glove money he
allowed her clear perquisites; though once when he saw her in
a new gown saved out of the weed ashes, he told her to my face
(for he could say a sharp thing) that she should not put on her
weeds before her husband's death. But in a dispute about an
abatement, my lady would have the last word, and Sir Murtagh
grew mad; I was within hearing of the door, and now I wish I
had made bold to step in. He spoke so loud the whole kitchen
was out on the stairs.
a sudden he stopped, and my
lady too. Something has surely happened, thought I- and so it
was, for Sir Murtagh in his passion broke a blood-vessel, and all
the law in the land could do nothing in that case. My lady
sent for five physicians, but Sir Murtagh died, and was buried.
She had a fine jointure settled upon her, and took herself away,
to the great joy of the tenantry. I never said anything one
way or the other, while she was part of the family, but got up
to see her go at three o'clock in the morning. “It's a fine
morning, honest Thady,” says she; “good-by to ye,” and into
the carriage she stepped, without a word more, good or bad, or
even half a crown; but I made my bow, and stood to see her
safe out of sight, for the sake of the family.


## p. 5162 (#334) ###########################################

5162
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
(1849-1892)
A
SONNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN, afterwards Duchess of Ca-
janello, was born in Stockholm, October ist, 1849.
She was
the most prominent among contemporary women writers of
Sweden, and won for herself an eminent position in the world of let-
ters, not only for the truthfulness of her delineation of life, but for
the brilliancy of her style and her skill in using her material. The
circumstances of her early life were comfortable and commonplace.
She was the only daughter of a Swedish rector, and from her mother,
also the daughter of a clergyman, she inherited her literary tenden-
cies. From her parents and her three devoted brothers she received
every encouragement, but with wise foresight they restrained her
desire to publish her early writings; and it was not until her talent
was fully developed that her first book, a collection of stories entitled
Händelsvis? (By Chance), appeared in 1869, under the pseudonym of
«Carlot. ” In 1872 she was married to Gustav Edgren, secretary of the
prefecture in Stockholm; and though fitting and harmonious, this
marriage was undoubtedly one of convenience, brought about by the
altered circumstances of her life.
In 1873 she published the drama (Skådespelerskan' (The Actress),
which held the stage in Stockholm for an entire winter, and this was
followed by Pastorsadjunkten (The Curate), 1876, and Elfvan' (The
Elf), 1880, the latter being even more than usually successful. Her
equipment as a dramatist was surprisingly slender, as until the time
of her engagement to Mr. Edgren she had never visited the theatre,
and necessarily was absolutely ignorant of the technique of the stage.
Nevertheless, her natural dramatic instincts supplied the defects of a
lack of training, and her plays met with almost universal success.
The theme of all her dramas, under various guises, is the same,- the
struggle of a woman's individuality with the conventional environment
of her life. Mrs. Edgren herself laments that she was born a woman,
when nature had so evidently intended her for a man.
Her first work to be published under her own name was in 1882,-
a collection of tales entitled Ur Lifvet (From Life), which were
received with especial applause. Her works were translated into
Danish, Russian, and German, and she now became widely known
as one of the most talented of Swedish writers. In 1883 appeared a
second volume of From Life); and still later, in 1889, yet another


## p. 5163 (#335) ###########################################

ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5163
under the same title. These later stories betrayed a boldness of
thought and expression not before evinced, and placed the author
in the ranks of the radicals. The drama (Sanna Kvinnor' (Ideal
Women) appeared in 1883; Huru Man Gör Godt? (How We do Good)
in 1885; and in 1888, in collaboration with Sónya Kovalevsky, Kam.
pen för Lyckan' (The Struggle for Happiness).
In company with her brother, Professor Mittag-Leffler, she attended
a Mathematical Congress in Algiers, in the early part of the year
1888; and upon the return journey through Italy she made the ac-
quaintance of Signor Pasquale del Pezzo, subsequently Duke of Caja-
nello, a mathematician and friend of her brother, and professor in
the University of Naples. Mrs. Edgren was married to the Duke of
Cajanello in 1890, after the dissolution of her marriage with Mr.
Edgren. After this event she published a romance which attracted
a great deal of attention, called Kvinlighet och Erotik? (Womanli-
ness and Erotics), 1890, and among others the drama (Familjelycka?
(Domestic Happiness), and En Räddende Engel (A Rescuing Angel),
with which last she achieved her greatest dramatic success. Her last
work was a biography of her intimate friend Sónya Kovalevsky.
While in the midst of her literary labors, and in the fullness of her
powers, she died suddenly at Naples, October 21st, 1893.
The subjects of her writings are the deepest questions of life.
Her special theme is the relation between men and women, and in
her studies of the question she has given to the world a series of
types of wonderful vividness and accuracy. The life that she knows
best is the social life of the upper classes; and in all her work, but
particularly in her dramas, she treats its problems with a masculine
vigor and strength. Realism sometimes overshadows poetry, but the
faithfulness of her work is beyond question.


## p. 5164 (#336) ###########################################

5164
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
OPEN SESAME
"I"
had on
T WAS once upon a time" so the fairy stories begin.
At that particular time there was a government clerk, not
precisely young, and a little moth-eaten in appearance, who
was on his way home from the office the day after his wedding.
On the wedding day itself he had also sat in the office and
written until three o'clock. After this he had gone out, and as
usual eaten his frugal midday meal at an unpretending restaurant
in a narrow street, and then had gone home to his upper cham-
ber in an old house in the Österlånggata, in order to get his
somewhat worn dress coat, which had done good and faithful serv-
ice for twelve years. He had speculated a good deal about buy-
ing a new coat for his wedding day, but had at last arrived at
the conclusion that, all in all, it would be a superfluous luxury.
The bride was a telegraph operator, somewhat weakly, and
nervous from labor and want, and of rather an unattractive ex-
terior. The wedding took place in all quietness at the house of
the bride's old unmarried aunt, who lived in Söder. The bride
a black-silk dress, and the newly married pair drove
home in a droschke.
So the wedding day had passed, but now it was the day after.
From ten o'clock on he had sat in his office, just as on all other
days. Now he was on the way home his own home!
That was a strange feeling; indeed, it was such an overpower-
ing feeling that he stood still many times on the way and fell
into a brown study.
A memory of childhood came into his mind.
He saw himself as a little boy, sitting at his father's desk in
the little parsonage, reading fairy tales. How many times had he
read, again and again, his favorite story out of the Arabian
Nights of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves! How his heart
had beaten in longing suspense, when he stood with the hero of
the story outside the closed door of the mountain and called,
first gently and a little anxiously, afterwards loudly and boldly:
Sesame, Sesame! Open Sesame! ”
And when the mountain opened its door, what splendor! The
poor room of the parsonage was transformed into the rich treas-
ure chamber of the mountain, and round about on the walls
gleamed the most splendid jewels. There were, besides horses
and carriages, beautifully rigged ships, weapons, armor - all the


## p. 5165 (#337) ###########################################

ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5165
best that a child's fantasy could dream. His old father looked
in astonishment at his youngest child, it was so long since he
himself had been a child, and all the others were already grown
up. He did not understand him, but asked him half reprovingly
what he was thinking about, that his eyes glistened so.
Thus he also came to think about his youth, about his student
years at Upsala. He was a poet, a singer; he had the name of
being greatly gifted, and stood high in his comrades' estimation.
What if any one had told him at that time that he should end as
a petty government clerk, be married to a telegraph operator,
and live in the Repslagaregata in Söder! Bah! Life had a
thousand possibilities. The future's perspective was illimitable.
Nothing was impossible. No honor was so great that he could
not attain it; no woman so beautiful that he could not win her.
What did it signify that he was poor, that he was only named
Andersson, and that he was the eighth child of a poor parson,
who himself was peasant-born ? Had not most of the nation's
gifted men sprung from the ranks of the people ? Yes, his en-
dowments, they were the magic charm, the Open Sesame! ”
which were to admit him to all the splendors of life.
As to how things, later on, had gone with him, he did not
allow himself to think. Either his endowments had not been as
great as he had believed, or the difficulties of living had stifled
them, or fortune had not been with him: enough, it had hap-
pened to him as to Ali Baba's wicked brother Casim, who stood
inside the mountain only to find out to his horror that he had
forgotten the magic charm, and in the anguish of death beat
about in his memory to recall it. That was a cruel time - but
it was not worth while now to think about it longer.
Rapidly one thought followed upon another in his mind. Now
he came to think upon the crown princess, who had made a royal
entrance into the capital just at this time. He had received per-
mission to accompany his superiors and stand in the festal pavil-
ion when she landed. That was a glorious moment. The poet's
gifts of his youth were not far from awakening again in the
exaltation of the moment; and had he still been the young
applauding poet of earlier days, instead of the neglected govern-
ment clerk, he would probably have written a festal poem and
sent it to the Post.
For it was fine to be the Princess Victoria at that moment.
It was one of the occasions that life has not many of. To be


## p. 5166 (#338) ###########################################

5166
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
nineteen years old, newly married to a young husband, loved and
loving, and to make a ceremonious entry into one's future capital,
which is in festal array and lies fabulously beautiful in the
autumn sun, to be greeted with shouts of joy by countless
masses of men, and to be so inexperienced in life that one has
no presentiment of the shadows which hide themselves back of
this bright picture — yes, that might indeed be an unforgettable
moment; one of those that only fall to the lot of few mortals, so
that they seem to belong more to the world of fable than to
reality! Had the magic charm, "Open Sesame! ” conjured up
anything more beautiful ?
And yet! yet! - The government clerk had neared his home
and stood in front of his own door. No, the crown prince was
surely not happier when he led his bride into his rejoicing capi-
tal, than was he at this moment. He had found again the long-
lost magic charm. The little knob there on the door — that was
his Open Sesame! ” He needed only to press upon it, when
the mountain would again open its treasures to him — not weap-
ons and gleaming armor as in his childhood — not honors and
homage and social position as in his youth—no, something better
than all these. Something that forms the kernel itself of all
human happiness, upon the heights of life as well as in its most
concealed hiding-places- a heart that only beat for him, his own
home, where there was one who longed for him—a wife! Yes,
a wife whom he loved, not with the first passion of youth, but
with the tenderness and faithfulness of manhood.