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 concealed until the critical moment. — Boston Gazette. 
 
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 1 vol. 32mo. 50 cents. 
 A dainty little romance of the days of Governor Bellingham, in the old 
 
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-fJ-5 
 
 (61& 
 
 UNCLOSETED SKELETON 
 
AN 
 
 Uncloseted Skeleton 
 
 By 
 
 LUCRETIA PEABODY HaLE 
 
 and 
 
 Edwin Lassetter Bynner 
 
 r 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 TICKNOR AND COMPANY 
 
 211 Tremont Street 
 
* 
 
 
 Copyright, 1887, by Houghton, Mifflin, & Co., 
 
 AND 1888, BY TlCKNOR & Co. 
 
 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 Quite in keeping with the remarkable character 
 of the fubjoined papers is the way in which the 
 underfigned became affociated in editing them for 
 publication. 
 
 A bunch of old letters found in a cheft of drawers 
 bought by one of the Editors at the clofmg-out fale 
 of an old houfe in Boylflon Place, fome loofe pa- 
 pers, including a fragment of a diary and other 
 letters difcovered behind a joift in the chimney 
 clofet at the recent difmantling of the Tavern Club, 
 — only a {tone's throw from Boylfton Place, — and 
 given by a member of the Club to the other Editor, 
 
 form 
 
Prefatory Note. 
 
 form the material from which felections are given 
 below. 
 
 At a chance meeting of the Editors foon after, 
 thefe poffeffions having been carnally mentioned, it 
 was discovered, to the furprife and gratification of 
 both, that the manufcripts were parts of a former 
 whole, — difjected members, in fact, of an old-time 
 family fkeleton. 
 
 The frequent gaps which will be noted in the texl 
 are due in part to omiffions made by the Editors foi 
 prudential reafons, and partly to the dilapidate* 
 ftate of the manufcripts, which have fuffered greatly 
 from the ravages of mildew and rats. 
 
 lucretia peabody hale. 
 Edwin Lassetter Bynner 
 
 
UNCLOSETED SKELETON. 
 
AN 
 
 UNCLOSETED SKELETON. 
 
 Boston, Feb'y 6, 1832. 
 
 My dear Brother, — For aught I know, 
 you may be in Crim Tartary or Cathay. I 
 mention thofe places as fynonyms of vague- 
 nefs and diftance, without the leaft notion 
 where they are. The Footftool was never 
 thought of as an obje6l for ftudy in Phillips 
 Place when I went to fchool there. But 
 wherever you may be, my letters always feem 
 to reach you, though, ftrange to fay, I get 
 very few of yours in return. Are you aware 
 that 't is nearly four years fmce you went 
 
 abroad ? 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 abroad ? Do you forget that you are an 
 American citizen ? Are you ever coming 
 back ? I warn you, if you do not come foon, 
 you will feel like the Dutchman in Mr. Irv- 
 ing' s ffcory, who waked up after a fleep of 
 twenty years to find everybody changed 
 beyond recognition. 
 
 The trouble is, you are getting out of con- 
 ceit with your own country. I read what you 
 faid in Aunt Maria's letter about our provin- 
 cialifm, — that we are fure to be either prim, 
 priggifh, or vulgar. I fay, Pooh ! For my- 
 felf, I infill that I am open to none of thofe 
 charges. Come, now, I challenge you to the 
 proof ! 
 
 No ; the beam is in your own eye. You 
 are getting fpoiled. You are falling into hor- 
 rid, loofe, unwholefome foreign ways. You 're 
 forgetting your horn-book too ; you fpell 
 agreeable with one e. Confefs, now, Joe, that 
 you eat your breakfaft at noon, take brandy 
 
 in 
 
An Undo feted Skeleton. 
 
 in your coffee, and are cultivating a liking for 
 frogs' legs. I dare not even think of how you 
 fpend the Sabbath. Such proceedings may 
 be all very — what you call " chic." I will 
 not afk what that means. I don't want to 
 know. Tis an odious and immoral-looking 
 word, and I am profoundly thankful that I 
 have none of the quality reprefented by fuch 
 a finifter combination of letters. 
 
 Meantime, you prefume on the fact, that you 
 are an only brother, and count on my weak- 
 nefs to forgive your unnatural neglect, — your 
 fcraps of letters and interminable filences. 
 You think to keep me quiet by an occafional 
 gewgaw, and doing a bit of mopping now and 
 then, — the latter always with much proteft 
 and grumbling. 
 
 Aunt Maria thinks you 're an expert in 
 mopping. That lace fcarf converted her ; it 
 certainly was a miracle of elegance. I mould 
 never have f ufpected you of fuch tafte. 
 
 Poor 
 
io An Unclofeted Skeleton.^ 
 
 Poor Aunt Maria ! fhe has had a great 
 trial. I pity her with all my . . . He 's 
 quite grown up now, and a dear boy. No, 
 't is not becaufe I 'm a doting fpinfler ; he is 
 really a handfome, manly fellow, with an un- 
 ufual air — people turn to look after him on 
 the ftreet ; with fine inftincts too, and quiet, 
 cordial manners. For all of that, and ftrictly 
 between ourfelves, he is not bright, — indeed, 
 Joe, to plump out the bald, unpleafant truth, 
 he is downright ftupid ; but not a whit more, 
 after all, than his father was. Aunt Maria 
 would die if fhe fufpected me of fuch a 
 thought, for fhe infifts — it exafperates me to 
 hear her — that Ralph is like our family, and 
 " all Clyde." 
 
 Be that as it may — where was I? Oh! 
 about this prefent thunderbolt. You know 
 what pains and expenfe have been lavifhed 
 upon Ralph's education ! Well, on his exam- 
 ination at Cambridge laft fall he was heavily 
 
 conditioned. 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 conditioned. Aunt Maria was fhocked to her 
 heart's core. Not a murmur efcaped her, how- 
 ever ; fhe ftraightway got a tutor, and prodded 
 Ralph night and day to make up the condi- 
 tions. Three months of this, and now comes 
 the tutor and tells her that Ralph can never 
 make up the conditions, that it is n't in him ; 
 and the confequence is he will be " dropped." 
 
 You know Aunt Maria ; fhe will never rally 
 from fuch a difgrace. She has been inordi- 
 nately ambitious for Ralph ; he was to be a 
 great orator, ftatefman, and I know not what. 
 For me, I confefs I don't care a fnap for him to 
 be a ftatefman ; I love him better for his ftupid- 
 ity : but his poor mother is broken-hearted, 
 and has nearly cried her eyes out about it. 
 
 So much for family matters ; and now for a 
 more agreeable piece of news. Yefterday, 
 coming out of No. 2 Otis Place, I met your 
 dear friend Tho ... He has lately . . . ; but 
 the public has not yet got wind of it. 
 
 " Nothing 
 
12 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 "Nothing in this .ftupid town to intereft a 
 man," do you fay? On the contrary, there 
 is a diffracting variety of things. For the 
 political, there is always the Prefident and 
 his kitchen-cabinet, with juft now the great 
 " Cherokee Case," which I heard Mr. Sturgis 
 and William Sullivan hotly debating the other 
 day on Pearl Street as I was coming down the 
 fteps of the Athenaeum. For the fteady-going, 
 there are the Franklin Lectures and the So- 
 ciety for the Diffufion of Ufeful Knowledge. 
 For the gay, there is to be a brilliant party 
 this very week at Dr. War ... and a very 
 ftartling bit of goffip which . . . although 
 nobody believes he will ever come back. For 
 the play-goers, there is Mr. Selby's benefit at 
 the Tremont Theatre, where will be prefented 
 " The Moorifh Bride," with Mrs. Barrett after- 
 wards in " Cherry Bounce." For the afpiring, 
 — like Aunt Maria, — there 's the profound in 
 art and philofophy. She is deep in Beetho- 
 ven. 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 13 
 
 ven. You remember her ear for mufic, and 
 what frightful difcords fhe always made in her 
 bafs ? No matter for that ! She has a Ger- 
 man now who comes daily to play Beethoven 
 to her. He plays for hours and hours, inter- 
 minable fonatas and fuch things, — he has 
 nearly pounded her piano to pieces ; while 
 fhe fits by, dumb, abftracted, with up-rolled 
 eyes. Do not fuppofe that is all ! When 
 was fhe ever content with one firing to her 
 bow ? She is going at the fame time to Pro- 
 feffor Follen's lectures on Goethe and Schiller ; 
 fhe is fairly rabid over German ; and with it 
 all quotes the moft incomprehenfible fluff from 
 Carlyle, who, I am firmly convinced, muft be 
 a madman. 
 
 Amongft all thefe " ifms " in the air, I hold 
 faft to my fmall ftore of common-fenfe, and 
 make the moft of my quiet opportunities. 
 The other evening I heard Wafhington Allfton 
 read fome paffages from his unpublifhed poem, 
 
 called 
 
14 An Unelqfeted Skeleton. 
 
 called " The Romance of Monaldi." I had a 
 few words with him afterwards, and he told 
 me his purpofe of painting a large picture on 
 the fubjecf. of Belfhazzar's feaft. 
 
 This reminds me : all Bofton is in fack- 
 cloth and afhes this very minute on account 
 of another artift, and one of its moft eminent 
 citizens. Domingo Williams is no more ! 
 Who will ever again brandifh a tray of whip- 
 ped creams fo reckleffly and artiftically over 
 our heads, ftriking terror to our fouls at his 
 approach, and bearing away our admiration 
 and gratitude as he retired ! 
 
 What do you think is Aunt Maria's lateft 
 fcheme with regard to Ralph ? But I will 
 fave that for my next ; you have far more now 
 than you deferve. Confefs it, and mow your 
 gratitude in the way moft pleafmg to your 
 devoted and affectionate filter, 
 
 Patty. 
 
 Boston, 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 Boston, . . . 1832. 
 . . . Yes, my dear Joe, the . . . have come 
 duly to hand, and the German books along 
 with them. I waited, before writing, until I 
 could report progrefs. Well, I have begun ; 
 I ftrangle myfelf daily with the ichs and ocks, 
 and purfe up my lips for the modified u till I 
 feel like an umlaut myfelf. Calvert, too, has 
 turned up with the volumes of Schiller, after 
 having lain, I know not how long, fubmerged 
 in the Elbe. Think how this has fanclified 
 them in the eyes of Aunt M. and her old 
 German profeffor ! That dear Herr K., he is 
 a miracle of amiability and uglinefs; and when 
 I fuddenly whip out fome of my newly ac- 
 quired phrafes, as " Wie gehfs heute" etc., he 
 opens wide his Teutonic mouth, mowing his 
 one lone folitary bicufpid, and looks like noth- 
 ing in life but a gargoyle. Aunt M. fays 
 my accent is very bad, — our accent, I mould 
 
 fay, 
 
1 6 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 fay, for Rachel Cleverly ftudies with me, and 
 fhe is a regular polyglot. What matters the 
 accent, after all ? we underftand each other. 
 'T is the Ueberfetzung that tells ; and you 
 fhould juft hear us " overfet." 
 
 From all of this our dear Ralph is fhut out ; 
 he defpifes the whole thing. " Drudgery " he 
 calls it ; infifts that girls like drudgery, and 
 when they have no houfework to do, ferret 
 around till they find fomething worfe. Hec&r- 
 tainly has no touch of any fuch weaknefs ; has 
 been ftudying Latin two whole years, and 
 could not this minute conjugate the auxiliary 
 verbs to fave himfelf from inftant annihilation. 
 He ought to have gone to Mifs Peabody, as 
 we did. She pounded the whole verbal fyftem 
 into us, till even George B. Emerfon, who, you 
 know, teaches every girl in Bofton at fome 
 time in her life, declares that the Peabody 
 girls know their Latin grammar as well as 
 their " Bean porridge hot." 
 
 Ralph 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 17 
 
 Ralph rolls up his nofe in a fine, four-grape 
 difdain at all this. Let him do it, — the facts 
 remain the fame ; one fignificant fact being 
 that he has juft been "rufticated" with Mrs. 
 Ripley at Waltham. They fay fhe has great 
 fuccefs with fuch youths, and we live in prayer- 
 ful hope that fhe may develop fyntax in Ralph's 
 head. 
 
 . . . Now about Aunt Maria's fcheme that 
 I wrote you of. She is determined that 
 Ralph mail marry Georgiana Carey. You re- 
 member her as a little girl, — with curls all 
 hanging down her back ? Well, they hang 
 now from the top of her head, toffing, tumb- 
 ling, dafhing, and foaming like a mountain- 
 brook. What is more, fhe is a great heirefs. 
 Her uncle Vickers has died in China, where, 
 you know, he made no end of money, and has 
 left it all to her. Now, I never mould accufe 
 dear Aunt Maria of worldly-mindednefs. But 
 you can't wonder that (he mould look out a 
 2 little 
 
1 8 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 little for Ralph, the rather that he never will 
 look out for himfelf. He is a great favorite ; 
 all the girls like him. Even if he is condi- 
 tioned at college, he dances juft as well ; is 
 always punctual at Papanti's, though he cuts 
 his Greek. The incomparable " Papanti," you 
 know, has taken the place of old M. Guigon, 
 — much to Aunt M.'s difguft ; for JJie confid- 
 ered Guigon the glafs of fafhion and the 
 mould, etc. ; " But who," quoth fhe, " is this 
 new man?" Well, we never bother our 
 heads who he is ; we all like him, and even I 
 make my way to his afternoon claffes in Som- 
 erfet Place ; we have fuch a pleafant fet there. 
 About Ralph — you fee Aunt Maria expected 
 to fpend her whole earthly eftate, if need be, 
 on his college education ; then he would fol- 
 low in your footfteps, be fent to Germany, to 
 come back after a few years an acknowledged 
 " profeffor." But he is fo ftupid about ftudy 
 ... If, then, he would only fall to admiring 
 
 Georgiana, 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 1 9 
 
 Georgian a, all would be well, for it is fuffi- 
 ciently plain that flie admires him ; and with 
 money, no matter about the profefforfhip and 
 the verbs. . . . 
 
 Aunt M. . . . me has always fo many 
 irons in the fire . . . ; the lateft is the Polifh 
 refugees ! She is fairly boiling over with 
 ardor . . . One of them — her particular pet 
 — I do believe fhe will end by inviting to 
 ftay here ! She thinks it is too expenfive for 
 him at Mrs. Le Kain's. Ludovic Radzinfki 
 is his delightful name. She came very near 
 putting him up into your old room. But hap- 
 pily, at this juncture, came a frefh claimant 
 upon her fympathies; and it really is awkward 
 for her to decide between the two. Rachel 
 Cleverly, you fee, that dear, delightful girl, is 
 here waiting to find fomething to do ; for 
 perhaps you have not heard Mr. Cleverly loft 
 all his money in a great fire that burnt up 
 his ftore-rooms, and . . . but luckily fhe has 
 
 always 
 
20 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 always been fuch a fcholar — one of the firft 
 in Mr. Emerfon's fchool — that fhe is now 
 all ready to teach, if fhe can only find a 
 clafs . . . 
 
 Boston, May i, 1832. 
 ... I fent off my laft letter in a great 
 hurry, fuddenly finding that if I meant it to 
 hit the next veffel from New York, . . . fo 
 fet about this a little earlier, efpecially as I 
 have fomething to tell. Aunt M. has not 
 only hunted up a clafs for Rachel, but fhe has 
 invited her to fpend the winter here ! Her 
 benevolence had no fooner impelled her to 
 this, than what do you think rofe up to dif- 
 courage her? Your prophetic foul may have 
 already grafped it. She feared that Ralph, 
 her dear Ralph, would fall in love with Rachel 
 and poverty, inftead of wealth and Georgiana. 
 "It would be the inevitable confequence ! " 
 fhe faid to me gloomily as we difcuffed the 
 queftion whether to give Rachel the " upper 
 
 ftudy," 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 2 1 
 
 ftudy," or whether to fit it up for the Pole. 
 For here was indeed a temptation that per- 
 haps affifted her uncertainty about alking 
 Rachel. I am afraid that a little infmuation 
 of mine decided the point- " Suppofe /mould 
 fall in love with Ludovic ?" faid I naughtily. 
 It came upon her like a bomb, — you know her 
 literalnefs ; fhe took me alphabetically, and I 
 really believe fhe now fears the " inevitable 
 confequence " for me more than for Ralph and 
 Rachel. The Pole is fo interefting an exile, — 
 no home, no money, able to talk any language 
 invented at Babel ; indeed, may have lived at 
 that time, being one of thofe ever-old, ever- 
 young human riddles, with his black locks 
 ftreaked with gray, his myfterious eyes, etc. 
 Why fhould n't I fall in love with him ? Left 
 you too take alarm, I will confide in you that 
 I am proof againft fafcinations of that kind, 
 though I feel for his woes. But . . . and the 
 rifk of it all decided Aunt M. ; fo Rachel 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 is here, and Ralph is fail learning to like her, 
 fpite of all her erudi . . . and fhe certainly 
 returns the compliment. Who could help it, 
 indeed, even if . . . Why, if I were not . . . 
 years older than he, I . . . with his handfome 
 face and his impulfive ways. Such a nice little 
 fchool as Aunt M. has got together for Ra- 
 chel, — girls from juft the "belt" families. She 
 goes to their houfes in turn, and is away all the 
 morning, ftudying hard in the intervals. . . . 
 
 Don't you ever fay again that we have no 
 excitement in Bolton. Such a domeitic up- 
 heaval and focial ferment ; everything and 
 everybody . . . and I don't quite know where 
 to begin. . . . But I mult confefs that my 
 own head is juft a little turned by this lalt of 
 Aunt M.'s infatuations ; for we furely have 
 now in Bolton a guelt worthy her enthuliafm. 
 I began by being very fceptical, and made 
 game a bit of the whole thing ; and even yet 
 hold myfelf in check againlt arriving too foon 
 
 at 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 at the goal of belief in telling human character 
 by bumps. 
 
 But I have been to two of his lectures, and 
 miffed the third only becaufe it came upon the 
 night of Aunt M.'s reception for her pet Pole 
 . . . and pray don't fufpect me of laughing at 
 them ! — the Poles. No, indeed ; I pity them 
 from the bottom of . . . and made two pin- 
 cufhions for the fair . . . where Georgiana 
 had a table which the gilded youth befieged, 
 and we had fome verfes printed about them, 
 — the refugees, I mean. 
 
 But to come back to the lectures. I have n't 
 told yet who gave them : well, then, 't was no 
 other nor lefs a perfon than the great Ger- 
 man phrenologift, Dr. Spurzheim. He is here 
 actually in the flefh, — and plenty of it too, — 
 flaying at Mrs. Le Kain's . . . And fuch a 
 fubject for Aunt M.'s ecftatics ; fhe is in the 
 front rank of his devotees . . . and actually 
 had him here to tea only laft Thurfday . . . 
 
 Not 
 
24 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 Not a little difmayed, for we had neither 
 fauerkraut, faufage, Limburger, nor any other 
 of their horrid dainties, I went down to tea 
 cafed in a mail-coat of prejudice ; but in a trice 
 he difarmed and converted me by a well- 
 aimed fhaft of flattery. " What e-day-ahl-ity ! 
 What e-me-tah-tif power ! " he exclaimed, gaz- 
 ing admiringly at the top of my head. " Are 
 you an artift, Mees Clyde ? " I blufhed like a 
 . . . and ftraightway fell into rank as one of 
 his ftancheft followers. How, indeed, to help 
 it, for he is Brobdingnagian in his appearance 
 and amiability. It turns out, too, that he is 
 profoundly interefted in our Pole, — not in his 
 exile, but in his brain-difeafe ; and as they are 
 both in the fame houfe . . . and every oppor- 
 tunity to ftudy his patient . . . Talking of his 
 head, faid the Pole had remarkable bumps of 
 language, eventuality, memory, fpeaks half 
 the known languages, learned and unlearned, 
 whereupon I fuggefted that his brain-difeafe 
 
 might 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 25 
 
 might be nothing more than his verbs rattling 
 around in his head. 
 
 Of courfe all the world go to the lectures, 
 and fome of his rabid admirers — Aunt M. 
 among the reft — are going down to his courfe 
 in Salem to hear them all over again. 
 
 Boston, ... 4, 1832. 
 Dear Joe, — ... and fuch a delightful let- 
 ter ought to give frefh wings — I mould fay 
 feathers — to my pen, that I might . . . and 
 fend down fome joyous carol from the upper 
 air ; but alas ! you muft be contented for this 
 once with an earth-born wail. For why ? 
 Becaufe, having flipped full on horrors, I am 
 now ftretched upon the confequential rack. 
 Laft night Ralph and the reft perfuaded me to 
 go and fee Forreft in the " Gladiator;" and bit- 
 terly I have paid the penalty, wreftling the 
 livelong night in the clutches of nightmare, 
 wherein I feemed to be fwimming or floating, 
 
 'neath 
 
26 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 'neath lurid Ikies, in feas of blood. Tragedies 
 are in the air ; next week there is to be pre- 
 fented a new one by Caroline Lee Hentz, — 
 " Werdenburgh, or the Foreft League." So 
 we . . . 
 
 If you look at your " Advertifer " of this date 
 carefully, you will fee that " a beautiful large, 
 fat green turtle, freih from the water, will be 
 ferved this day at Tremont Reffcorator, Tudor 
 Building, Court Street, — foup fent to any 
 part of the city." And now, my dear gour- 
 mand, don't you wifh you were here ? For 
 Aunt M. has ordered fome of the fame, not 
 to entertain aldermen, but her laft new hero ! 
 Is n't fhe fortunate to have fet her dinner on 
 that day . . . 
 
 Oh, my dear, dear brother ! fuch . . . terri- 
 ble news . . . How can I ever tell you ? The 
 flippant tone at the beginning of this will 
 fhovv how fudden, how crufhing a fhock it has 
 
 been 
 
A 11 Unclofeted Skeleton. 2 7 
 
 been to us . . . and Aunt M., how can fhe 
 furvive it ? . . . Her whole life has been 
 devoted to him. I do believe fhe has only 
 loved him more for her very difappoint- 
 ment in him ; and what has fhe left befide ? 
 True, fhe has always been fond of you and 
 me ; but what was that feeling to her love for 
 Ralph ? Let me, however, halten to fay he is 
 (fill living ; there is hope in that, though we 
 can have no more. And it is terrible to fit 
 here all day, not able to do anything but 
 doubt and wonder what is to come ! He is frill 
 unconfcious, — a whole night of uncertainty. 
 Aunt M. is there by his fide, calm and felf- 
 fuftained, always ftrong in emergency ; and I 
 almolt think it is eafier for her there, where 
 perhaps fhe can do fomething, than for us 
 who can only lit dreading and fearing the 
 refult. Ralph was thrown from his horfe 
 yeiterday, a*nd taken up fenfelefs ! . . . fcarcely 
 know how to write it, and yeiterday morning 
 
 ... all 
 
28 An Unclofeted Skeleton* 
 
 ... all fo different, and I was writing that 
 idle twaddle to you. The real tragedy has 
 come now, outdoing all the talk of fcenic hor- 
 rors. Our dinner had gone off fo pleafantly. 
 Ralph here, unufually gay and joyous ; but he 
 ran away from the dinner-table to join a 
 friend, and I don't quite know if they had yet 
 been out of town. Ralph had promifed to 
 leave fome meffage at Mrs. Le Kain's, and 
 there he was in Pearl Street, and had left a 
 note at the door, or fome word for Dr. Spurz- 
 heim, when his horfe turned fuddenly, and 
 from the houfe oppofite, where they were re- 
 pairing, there came a beam, falling fuddenly 
 with a crafh. The horfe ftarted, whirled, and 
 Ralph was thrown to the ground. This is 
 how I underftand it. They carried him 
 directly into the houfe, where — our only 
 caufe for thankfulnefs — Dr. Spurzheim was 
 at the very moment engaged in a confuta- 
 tion. He gave directions as to how Ralph 
 
 mould 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 29 
 
 mould be carried, and they fent for other 
 doctors and for Aunt M. . . . They fay that 
 Dr. Spurzheim is a moft wonderful furgeon 
 But oh ! what can be done ? For the fkull in- 
 deed is fractured, — this is our lateft intel- 
 ligence. They would have kept Aunt M. 
 away, but fhe will not leave. The only thing 
 that fuftains her . . . and fhe has implicit 
 confidence in Dr. Spurzheim, who plans fome 
 operation in which he is to be affifled by a 
 committee of Bofton doctors. This is the 
 very lateft report I can fend you. I have 
 kept my letter till the laffc moment, and fhall 
 carry it myfelf to Earl's, in Hanover Street, 
 as John Lewis takes the mail-ftage from there 
 to-day at one o'clock, and he had before prom- 
 ifed to take my letter for me to New York, 
 which it will reach juft in time for the next 
 veffel. 
 
 It is very trying to have this the very laft 
 that I can fend you. But while there is life 
 
 there 
 
30 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 there is hope. Dear Ralph ! in thefe waiting 
 hours I have recalled all our difcuffion and cri- 
 ticifm of him, — how we have bemoaned his 
 lack of application and of intereft in ftudy ; yet 
 now how glad we fhould be to have him back, 
 juft as he was, with his kind-heartednefs and 
 genial love of us all ! But I muft ftop, and 
 next time hope to fend you a better report. 
 Now that we have your new addrefs, we can 
 fend you news regularly. But this mult go, 
 if only to prepare you for what we have to tell. 
 
 Boston, June 15, 1832. 
 
 Dear Joe, — Mifs Patty wants me to fend 
 you an account — "a doctor's account," fhe 
 faid — of the ftartling operation lately per- 
 formed on your coufin Ralph Wheaton. I am 
 glad to do her fo flight a favor, and glad too 
 to renew . . . fince the day when we parted 
 at the door of the medical fchool. 
 
 As to the operation, I was among the 
 
 favored 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 31 
 
 favored few of our guild invited, and cannot 
 do better, perhaps, than flip in here fome 
 extracts from my profeffional notes taken on 
 the fpot. 
 
 'T was a great occafion. Spurzheim is a 
 genius ; the like of him has never been feen 
 on this fide the water. None the lefs, be- 
 tween ourfelves, fome of his theories are the 
 rankeft quackery. But with it ^11 he is fo 
 tremendous and overpowering in a fcientific 
 way that our little gods here have not only 
 gulped down their prejudice, — a pretty big 
 pill too, — but actually received him with a 
 mild kind of Puritanical hooray. He, how- 
 ever, blefs you ! makes nothing of them ; 
 they 're evidently a dwarf variety of pundit to 
 him, and he walks over them and paws them 
 about like a lion among puppy-dogs. You 
 may imagine what nuts 't is to us younger fry 
 to fee the Rhadamanthufes thus dethroned. 
 
 Like all geniufes, Spurzheim is a bit of a 
 
 madman. 
 
32 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 madman. I like him rather the better for it. 
 There is, too, an Olympian air about the 
 creature ; and though none of the profeffion 
 here can go the " bump " bufmefs, there 's 
 not a man among them dare ftand up and 
 tell him fo to his face. But our mutton is 
 cooling. 
 
 That operation — Joe, I give you my word, 
 the whole performance would have done honor 
 to any ftage. 'T was thrilling as a tragedy, — 
 which, by the by, it came d — d near becom- 
 ing, — and yet had bits of comedy as fine as 
 Moliere. Fancy Spurzheim, with his elephan- 
 tine bulk, coat and veil off, fleeves rolled up, 
 veins Handing out in his probulgent forehead, 
 fweat running off his dewlap from nervous 
 agitation, — fancy him, I fay, cavorting back 
 and forth from one patient to the other, ha- 
 ranguing in broken Englifh W., J., F., D., and 
 me, who flood before him in a paralyzed row, 
 like a fquad of frefhies at a clinic. 
 
 Not 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton* 33 
 
 Not . . . but every one knew in his heart 
 't was a daring a 61 of empiricifm which fuccefs 
 itfelf could not juftify. You know the facts, 
 of courfe, from Mifs Patty, about the refugee 
 Radzinfki, whom Spurzheim has been for 
 fome time treating for cerebral tumor. The 
 Pole is a remarkable character ; he was . . . 
 nothing known of his hiftory . . . habitually 
 talked Latin with Spurzheim ... in his deli- 
 rium fputtered various unknown tongues. 
 
 You mult know there had been a confuta- 
 tion the day before. W. and J. were called 
 in. They agreed with Spurzheim's diagnofis, 
 proceeded to localize the tumor, and decided 
 upon the operation ; whereupon the reft of us 
 were invited. Little fufpecting what was in 
 ftore for us that fine fummer morning, we 
 wended our way to Mrs. Le Kain's to fee the 
 operation upon the Pole alone. 
 
 We found everything ready ; Spurzheim 
 
 fhowing W. his inftrnments in the parlor, the 
 
 3 patient 
 
34 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 patient ftretched on a bed in the inner room, 
 where we made by requeft the ufual examina- 
 tion. So much for preliminaries ; now pleafe 
 take up my notes for the details ! 
 
 " Examined patient : pulfe 80, hard and 
 frequent ; pupils contracted ; fkin alternate 
 paling and flufhing ; tongue dry ; extremities 
 cold ; muttering delirium. Found no reafon 
 to differ with theory of tumor. Dr. Spurz- 
 heim briefly gave reafons for localizing tumor 
 beneath frontal bone ; called attention inci- 
 dentally to extraordinary prominence of fron- 
 tal lobe in patient, difguifed by a thick fhock 
 of hair growing low over the brow. 
 
 " Dr. J., on requeft, fhaved fcalp. Difcuffion 
 over fhape of incifion. Dr. Spurzheim himfelf 
 conducted operation : the fcalp neatly cut 
 and inflected ; pericranium carefully fcraped 
 away, and a trephine of the largeft fize ap- 
 plied juft above frontal finus. Directly 
 bone was removed, dura mater protruded 
 
 through 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton, 35 
 
 through opening, — fhowing evident enlarge- 
 ment of the brain, and confirming, as it 
 feemed, the theory of tumor. Spurzheim 
 pointed triumphantly with his lancet, and 
 proceeded with the operation. Scarcely had 
 he divided the dura mater when he flopped, 
 flared, and flufhed. We crowded about. 
 There at lalt, through the fevered membrane, 
 the cerebral tiffue itfelf burfl forth, but with its 
 normal pinkifh color, and withoict the Jlighteji 
 trace of difeafe. 
 
 " While we flood puzzling over the matter, 
 Dr. W. called our attention to the great and 
 fenfible relief already evinced by patient as 
 refult of operation." 
 
 Now, Joe, lay afide the notes, and let me 
 interrupt you for a minute ! 
 
 Remark that thus far everything had been 
 according to programme, fave the difproving 
 the tumor theory, — a difcovery, as you know, 
 rather interefting than unufual. At that pre- 
 
 cife 
 
36 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 cife moment, however, chance ftepped in and 
 flung a bomb-fhell into our midffc which in a 
 trice altered the whole fituation. 
 
 Our difcuffion was interrupted by a loud 
 outcry from the ftreet. The windows were 
 open, — we ran to look out. A frantic horfe 
 was galloping round the corner, and a crowd 
 of men were bringing the mangled body of a 
 youth into our houfe. 
 
 The next minute Mrs. Le Kain herfelf 
 came burfting into the room, calling loudly 
 for Spurzheim to come at once ; that young 
 Mr. Wheaton was killed. 
 
 At firft annoyed at the interruption, on 
 hearing a name fo familiar, — you know what 
 civilities Mrs. Wheaton has heaped upon him, 
 — Spurzheim hurried down-flairs, we at his 
 heels, and found, fure enough, it was your 
 coufin. He was carried up-ftairs directly, and 
 •the crowd fhut out. Thereupon, as you may 
 believe, the Pole was ftraightway forgotten, 
 
 and 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 37 
 
 and breathlefs attention centred upon poor 
 Ralph. 
 
 At the very firft glimpfe of his face down- 
 ftairs Spurzheim had whifpered, "Fr-rach- 
 ture ! " Examination proved it to be indeed 
 a very ferious fracture of the left parietal 
 bone. Word was inftantly fent to his mother, 
 and preparation made for an operation. 
 
 Now go on with your notes again : — 
 
 " Examined young Wheaton : pulfe normal 
 or a little flow ; pupils dilated ; fkin moift ; ex- 
 tremities warm ; refpiration ftertorous. Scalp 
 much fwollen, and filled with maffes of coagu- 
 lated blood evident to the touch ; pieces of 
 bone could be plainly felt grating againft each 
 other ; edematous ftate of fcalp for confider- 
 able diftance about feat of injury ; fcalp pur- 
 plifh directly above wound, mowing extenfive 
 comminution of cranium. 
 
 "At Spurzheim's requeft I fhaved fcalp. 
 Another difcuffion over incifion. ... ' H ' 
 
 fhape 
 
38 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 fhape on account of comminution . . . allow- 
 ing two large flaps for inflection. Dr. J. made 
 . . . dura mater badly lacerated ... of bone 
 cruihed down into brain. W. drew attention 
 to fact that in extracting pieces of bone and 
 . . . confiderable portion of brain muft be re- 
 moved. All ftartled by fudden exclamation 
 from Spurzheim." 
 
 Here let me interrupt again, Joe, to give 
 you a little more graphic notion of the 
 fituation. 
 
 " Gott ! " cried Spurzheim. 
 
 We all turned to fee the caufe of this explo- 
 fion. He was walking up and down, with 
 blazing eyes, declaiming with incoherent fer- 
 vor, and forgetting his fmall ftore of Englifh 
 in his excitement. 
 
 " Sehen lie, meine Herren ! See you ? 
 Hein f Vat a gr-rand moment ! Eine Ent~ 
 deckling — de whole vor-rld vill hear of it. 
 Niemals, never has fcience foch a — a — vat 
 
 you 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 39 
 
 you call Zufammentreffen gefehn ? Come — 
 come vith me gefchwind, kvick ! I mow you," 
 pointing to the room where the Pole lay ; 
 " you fhall fee ! De odder, de beide, ve put 
 both togedder, hem ? Take de von to mend 
 de odder. Come, I fay ! " 
 
 We followed him in to Radzinfki's bedfide, 
 where, pointing eagerly to the unfmifhed ope- 
 ration, he went on : — 
 
 " Sehen Jie noch nicht, my deer friends ? 
 Here ijl zu viel y dort nicht gejtug ! Dis ees — 
 fee ! look for yourfelfs ! " pointing to the pro- 
 truding cerebrum. " Gefund, ganz gefund ! 
 Warum — vy den fhall ve not take avay vat 
 dis von fpare, und gif to de odder, hein ? " 
 
 His meaning was at laft clear, and we flood 
 dumfounded. But he, too bufy with the pof- 
 fible prenological refults of the operation to 
 heed us, ran on in an ecftatic and incoherent 
 monologue I fhall defpair of defcribing. Only 
 his action I remember, as he kept patting the 
 
 Pole's 
 
40 An Unclofeted Skeleton* 
 
 Pole's bulbous forehead, crying, " Aufordetit- 
 lich ! Aufordentlich ! " and then darted away 
 to point out the comparative flatnefs of 
 Ralph's. 
 
 I need not tell you how the fuggeflion of 
 fuch an operation was received by the Bolton 
 fquad. You can imagine the polar chill and 
 ftillnefs of that room ! But pff ! — Spurzheim 
 — man alive! the Grand Mogul could not 
 have been more ferenely unconfcious of them 
 and their moods. 
 
 At this juncture arrived the heart-broken 
 mother. Defpite all oppofition, fhe would 
 come in. It was a hard pull, but you know 
 what fluff fhe is of, — real Yankee grit. 
 Egad, I was proud of her. 
 
 " He is alive ? " fhe afked, her voice almofl 
 firm. 
 
 W. nodded. She went and kneeled down 
 befide her only fon and child with never a 
 fob or wail or groan ; but " while memory 
 
 holds 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton, 4 1 
 
 holds her feat " fhall I never forget the look 
 in her eyes. 
 
 " Is there any hope ? " fhe afked prefently 
 of Spurzheim. 
 
 Spurzheim behaved magnificently : he 
 pulled her ftraight forth from that Hough 
 of defpond with one forceful grip. 
 
 " Hope ! My deer lady — ha ! ha ! vy, dere 
 is noding but hope ! Fiirchten Sie nicht ! Go 
 — go avay now. Bleiben zu Haufe ! Put 
 faith in me ; I vill cure him. Aber, go — go 
 kvick, deer lady, an* leave us to vork ! " 
 
 His big perfon, his emphatic tone, his air 
 of omnipotence, availed more than a thoufand 
 words. The reaffured and comforted woman 
 walked quietly away without another proteft. 
 
 Directly the door clofed upon her we came 
 back to our fubject. Spurzheim formally de- 
 manded our opinion, 
 
 " Extremely hazardous," faid J., making his 
 head. 
 
 " Unheard 
 
42 An Unclofeted Skeleton* 
 
 " Unheard of ! " faid W. 
 
 " 'Azardous ! " repeated Spurzheim, nearly 
 choking himfelf with the word. " Vas it not 
 'azardous znm Beifpiel ven de gret Colombus 
 came de fea over to find out dis countree ? 
 Unheerd of ! Vas it not audi unheerd of ven 
 Fr-rahnklin de t'under-bolt brought from de 
 fky down ? " 
 
 But all his fatire and eloquence were una- 
 vailing. W. and J. were at bay ; they would 
 as foon have countenanced an earthquake : 
 yet 't was plain they were itching to fee the 
 thing done. 
 
 And they were gratified. Our hoft had the 
 courage of his convictions. He did n't trouble 
 himfelf about their approval ; he went on and 
 did it. Yes, Joe, to make a long ftory fhort, 
 he actually performed the operation, — boldly 
 fevered the fuperfluous brain from the Pole 
 (I won't trouble you with any more notes), 
 adjufted it nicely to Ralph's cranium, and 
 
 dreffed 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 43 
 
 dreffed both wounds in the moft workmanlike 
 manner, which, I have fmce heard, moved the 
 admiration even of W. You know how he 
 likes a neat job. 
 
 All this was more than a week ago. So 
 far, as I intimated above, everything has gone 
 well. The Pole is up, and declares himfelf 
 well. Ralph has been taken home to his 
 mother, and the chances are all in his favor. 
 
 I need not fay, with regard to the above, 
 " Mum 's the word!' I write for your pro- 
 feffional eye alone. For obvious reafons, the 
 nature of the operation has not been made 
 public; nor has either Ralph or his mother 
 the leaft idea of what has been done. Verbum 
 fap. Let me hear from you. 
 
 Faithfully yours, A "R T 
 
 Aug. 20, 1832. 
 Dear Joe, — You will have received before 
 this the ftatement that Dr. L. promifed to 
 
 fend 
 
44 ^^ Unclofeted Skeleton, 
 
 fend you, and therefore know more of R.'s 
 accident than we do. All the doclors have 
 been ftrangely reticent with regard to the 
 matter, and I think now they want to pafs it 
 off as nothing unufual ... " A cafe of tre- 
 panning," Dr. L. faid lightly, in anfwer to my 
 queftions. 
 
 Meanwhile, we are all fo happy to fee Ralph 
 really convalefcent that we are willing they 
 fhould call it what they pleafe. 
 
 . . . Ralph himfelf . . . and had a ftrange, 
 wild look when he firft recovered confciouf- 
 nefs, and he does not yet remember anything 
 of his fall, or of the other happenings of the 
 day ; they fay this often occurs in fuch cafes. 
 I have feen him only once, and he feemed juft 
 the fame dear boy as ever ... an anxious 
 look in his eyes, which, with his pale face and 
 head all bound up, made him look . . . but 
 he could fay a few words to me, only they 
 would not let him talk much. 
 
 Aunt 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 45 
 
 Aunt M. fays fhe is not going to fay a word 
 to him about college. She is fo glad to have 
 him back, fhe cares for nothing elfe; and fhe is 
 impreffed that it will do him harm if he tries 
 to ufe his brain. 
 
 Poor Georgiana ! She has been in the 
 depths of defpair, and has fpent the days of 
 anxiety here, where fhe could learn the lateft 
 intelligence ; crying and fobbing half the time, 
 and afking all forts of queftions, that I muft 
 fay irritated me in the midft of all the uncer- 
 tainty. " Would Ralph be ... if he did re- 
 cover ? Could he recover without . . . Did I 
 know what 'trepanning' was ? Did I ever 
 know anybody who had fubmitted to the ope- 
 ration ? And would they have to cut off all 
 his hair ? " Rachel was quiet through it all- 
 She is ready to do anything that is needed, 
 but fpeaks little, and feems fo fad and pre- 
 occupied that I wonder if fhe has not really 
 as deep an intereft in Ralph as the more 
 
 lively 
 
46 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 lively Georgiana. R. is talking about leaving 
 here, becaufe flie thinks Aunt Maria would 
 like to give Ralph the largefb room when he 
 is well enough to be brought here. She is 
 
 planning to go to the W 's, who are very 
 
 hofpitable, and who have a daughter at her 
 fchool. I will keep my letter open till Ralph 
 is able to be moved, as we hope he can come 
 here before many days . . . 
 
 R. was moved yefherday, and is now com- 
 fortable ; is ftill kept lying quietly in his bed. 
 I have feen him only once. I think he looked 
 round inquiringly for Rachel. Aunt Maria 
 thought he afked for Georgiana, and told him 
 the doctors had faid he muft fee only one per- 
 fon at a time, and Georgiana is to fee him in a 
 day or two. 
 
 Have I told you how it has feemed to me 
 like a Hermione and Helena affair all along ? 
 Georgiana has followed after Ralph, and 
 
 Ralph 
 
An Unci of e ted Skeletoii. 47 
 
 Ralph has been purfuing Rachel ; and now 
 it appears as if Rachel were leaving him 
 behind. But perhaps this is all in my im- 
 agination. 
 
 Laft night Reporter Pickering was here to 
 tea. He and Aunt M. had a furious dif- 
 cuffion over Webfter's fpeech on Clay's bill 
 — don't afk, Bill for what? When we rofe 
 from the table, nothing would ferve but he 
 muft fee Ralph. Accordingly, they went up- 
 ftairs, and found R. amufing himfelf making 
 a potpourri of Aunt M.'s noftrums ; he had 
 filled his gruel-bowl with a mixture of " Balm 
 of Quito," "Anderfon's Elixir," "Antifeptic 
 Dentifrice," and " Whitwell's Opodeldoc." 
 Aunt M. was vexed, but fhe could not fcold 
 him ; while Oclavius P. brought the lightning 
 upon his head by laughing till the tears filled 
 his eyes. 
 
 . . . Another fad piece of news. . . . Pref- 
 ently you will dread to open my letters. Only 
 
 I 
 
48 An Unclofeted Skeleton* 
 
 I muft haften to fay that this is not connected 
 with our houfehold. Our dear Ralph is im- 
 proving flowly, and fits up a little every day. 
 
 . . . but you will have feen it in the papers, 
 the account of the death of Dr. Spurzheim. 
 It has indeed been a fubje6l of forrovv and ex- 
 citement in the whole community. Dr. James 
 Jackfon attended him, and other doctors were 
 called in confultation, — although at firft he 
 confidered himfelf but flightly indifpofed, and 
 believed that nature would reftore him. He 
 was ill but ten days, and died laft Saturday 
 night. 
 
 The whole town is full of forrow . . . more 
 than others, for our dear Ralph's fake, and 
 really believe . . . owe it all to this great 
 man. Aunt Maria is very much moved, and 
 filled with difcouragement with regard to 
 Ralph's recovery, now that fhe can no lon- 
 ger have the advice of the wife friend and 
 phyfician. 
 
 ... I 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 49 
 
 ... I mult fend off this letter. Ralph ftill 
 improves. Our friend the Pole, Radzinfki, 
 has difappeared. He left his boarding-houfe 
 fome days ago. It was fuppofed he was with 
 fome friends, but it appears they have feen 
 nothing of him. A failing-veffel left for South 
 Africa laft week, and there is fome reafon to 
 believe that he went on board at the laft mo- 
 ment, and left with it. 
 
 Boston, Jan. 10, 1833. 
 . . . Happy news for you at laft, my dear 
 Joe. Ralph is really quite well again, and — 
 now hold your breath ! — actually gone back to 
 Cambridge to make up his conditions. Aunt 
 M. took alarm at the very firft fuggeftion, and 
 the change in the relative pofition of the parties 
 is indeed both amazing and amufing, — Aunt 
 M. arguing to Ralph that college advance- 
 ment is of very little importance, and that he 
 will be of as much ufe in the world without 
 4 learning 
 
50 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 learning and in fome lefs ambitious calling, 
 and that . . . with plenty of money for a 
 quiet, domeftic life, for which he is fo admira- 
 bly fitted (of courfe with Georgia). 
 
 . . . fomething uncanny and myfterious, 
 this change in Ralph ; fo fudden too. I was 
 fitting in his room one day, where he lay 
 propped up on a fofa, when he broke out : 
 " Do you know, Patty, all that hard work I 
 put in at the Latin School is bearing fruit at 
 laft." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 "Why, all thofe worft {ticking-places in the 
 Latin grammar, where I ufed to get mired fo 
 . . . clear and fimple as daylight now." 
 
 Thereupon he rattled off lifts of prepofitions, 
 exceptions, irregular verbs, fyntactical rules, 
 till I was fairly giddy ; in fine . . . and his 
 brain, once fo fluggifh, became abnormally 
 active. . . . Aunt M. inftantly took alarm, 
 and had round the doctor, who, after an ex- 
 amination 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 5 1 
 
 amination, faid, "Let him go back to Cam- 
 bridge." . . . 
 
 Mindful of your old tafte for puzzles, I fend 
 you this riddle, which I clipped from yefter- 
 day's " Advertifer and Patriot : " — 
 
 " Sir Hilary charged at Agincourt, 
 
 Sooth 't was an awful day ; 
 And though in that old age of fport 
 The rufflers of the camp and court 
 
 Had little time to pray, 
 'T is faid Sir Hilary uttered there 
 Two fyllables by way of prayer : 
 The firft to call the brave and proud, 
 
 Who fee to-morrow's fun ; 
 The next with its cold, quiet fhroud 
 To thofe 
 
 . . . the .... be done. 
 
 And both together to all . . . eyes 
 Who weep . . . nobly dies." 
 
 I fhall expect the anfwer in your next. 
 What do you think Aunt M. bought with 
 
 the 
 
52 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 the money you fent to get me a birthday gift ? 
 . . . and a bottle of bear's greafe . . . Such a 
 tender and melting remembrance ! 
 
 Of courfe everybody muft have bear's 
 greafe ; but as me handed me out that firft, 
 without a word of her other prefent, I laughed 
 outright, to her great bewilderment. 
 
 Ralph is at laft fairly eftablifhed at Cam- 
 bridge again. Aunt M. was wofully anxious 
 at firft . . . tried in vain to keep him back 
 . . . and was in the loweft pit of defpair. As, 
 however, he feems to thrive apace, fhe is 
 now fupremely content. It feems almoft too 
 great a bleffmg that Ralph . . . and turn 
 out a fcholar. So far he has pufhed ahead 
 like the giant with the feven-league boots 
 . . . made up his conditions . . . now leads 
 his clafs. 
 
 Aunt M. now lays all his former ftupidity 
 to his old tutor, G., and is correfpondingly im- 
 preffed with the wonders of phrenology, — 
 
 Dr. 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 53 
 
 Dr. Spurzheim having predicted fomething of 
 this fort for Ralph . . . 
 
 Found at Allen and Ticknor's a delightful 
 book, " Vivian Grey." Get it at once, if you 
 have n't read it. . . . With this aftonilhing 
 development in Ralph I am forever regretting 
 I did not read Dr. L.'s letter to you . . . and 
 Jhould, fave that he mumbled out fomething 
 to the effect that I mould n't underftand the 
 doctor lingo. 
 
 Rachel has come back to us, as Ralph in- 
 filled upon it when he left for Cambridge. . . . 
 Aunt plainly troubled . . . and declares Ralph 
 is infatuated with Rachel ; and indeed, he 
 does feem more than ever in love with her. 
 He comes home for Saturdays and Sundays, 
 and is always confulting her about his ftudies. 
 He has developed the greatefb fondnefs for 
 languages, and has raked up fomebody to 
 teach him Hebrew, though he gets on fo faft 
 he hardly needs a teacher, and I do believe 
 
 Rachel 
 
54 An Undo feted Skeleton. 
 
 Rachel is ftudying it with him. Anyhow, all 
 their interefts are the fame nowadays. 
 
 This is a fad blow to Aunt Maria. She is 
 taking fuch delight in his advancement fhe 
 forgets all her talk about "quiet domeftic life" 
 for him, and has all forts of ambitious views 
 for his future. Georgiana is . . . and devoted. 
 During his illnefs fhe ufed to bring him . . . 
 and delicacies made by herfelf. Georgiana 
 talks fuggeftively about the houfe fhe fhall 
 have when fhe is married. She has picked 
 out one of thofe on Summer Street, with the 
 horfe-chefbnuts in front, — not far from Otis 
 Place. No wonder fhe thinks it may prove a 
 bribe. It furely is one for Aunt Maria, who 
 fancies Ralph quietly fettled ... for the reft 
 of his life, no . . . but here is " the inevita- 
 ble confequence." 
 
 May io, 1833. 
 
 . . . and afraid my winter s letters bored 
 you, with nothing to tell but the fame old 
 
 thing 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 55 
 
 thing over and over, — Ralph improving, Aunt 
 M.'s qualms, etc. Yefterday I met the B.'s. 
 They told me how lately they had feen you, 
 and it was like a frefh breeze ftraight from 
 ... to hear about you in that way. They 
 report to me what you told them of my let- 
 ters, which quite fets me up, and infpires me to 
 ffcart another at once, the rather that I have 
 not told you of the excitement we have all 
 been having over Fanny Kemble. She was 
 here five weeks, and the whole town has been 
 in commotion. She returns fome of the fweet 
 things fhowered upon her : " Bolton is more 
 like an Englifh city," etc., than any lhe has 
 yet feen ! " Delightful to act to audiences fo 
 * pleafantly pleafed ! ' " Such a rufh as there 
 was at the box-office every day, a regular riot 
 for the . . . But oh, the acting ! I faw her as 
 Bianca in " Fazio," as Lady Teazle, and in the 
 " Hunchback " twice. Never fhall I forget her 
 u I hate you, Helen ! " I long to have to fay 
 
 it 
 
56 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 it to fomebody, — juft in her tone. We went 
 up one day to the H.'s, in Tremont Place, 
 for — what do you think ? To fee the divine 
 Fanny, from their windows, ride off on horfe- 
 back from the Tremont Houfe door ! But 
 prefently we grew bold, and preffed up to the 
 door itfelf, and waited in the crowd to fee her 
 come out and mount her horfe. She embraced 
 his neck and kiffed him ! Georgiana was with 
 us. She had put her hand through the rail- 
 ings, and had picked fome mignonette grow- 
 ing infide the little garden-plot fhut off there ; 
 and when Mifs Kemble had mounted, fhe ven- 
 tured to lift up her little bunch of flowers, 
 which was received by the " divine " Fanny, 
 Julia, Bianca, in one, with the fweeteft and 
 moft cordial of fmiles. Georgiana did make a 
 very pretty little picture by the fide of the 
 curveting horfe, with her own brown curls 
 blown about by the wind ; and all the fchool- 
 girls and the reft of us quite envied her. It 
 
 was 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 57 
 
 was exa6lly like her ; fhe is very impulfive 
 about giving things, — other people's as well 
 as her own . . . 
 
 This letter has been lying by, and I take it 
 up to fend you a great bit of news. Ralph is 
 to graduate with honors ! At the laft exhibi- 
 tion he made the moft brilliant appearance of 
 all the graduating clafs ! He has advanced fo 
 fafb that it aftonifhes everybody, and will grad- 
 uate this year, after all. Can you imagine 
 Aunt M.'s delight at the reception in Ralph's 
 room after the exhibition ? . . . Befides the 
 foreigners . . . there, with whom Ralph 
 talked glibly in French and German . . . 
 from Oxford, who addreffed him in Latin, 
 and Ralph fired back an anfwer without a 
 moment's hefitation. . . . And no wonder, 
 her higheft ambition is realized. Ralph has 
 turned out a genius, and yet remains ftill the 
 fame dear good fellow through it all. But 
 what will intereft you more is that he has 
 
 determined 
 
58 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 determined to ftudy medicine, and means to 
 go at it directly after his graduation. 
 
 Luckily I reftrained myfelf as I was about to 
 feal this letter laft night, for I can now wind 
 up with a coup (do you call it ?) which will ftir 
 your blood, — Ralph is engaged to Rachel ! 
 
 I am more happy about it than ... for I 
 have been hoping . . . but Aunt M. was fo 
 oppofed . . . 
 
 Rachel has been angelic through it all ; . . . 
 evidently faw Aunt M.'s difapproval, and tried 
 to keep herfelf out of v the way ; and I really 
 thought fhe was going to fucceed, and Ralph 
 would gradually " get off the notion," as Aunt 
 M. faid, efpecially as Georgiana has haunted 
 the houfe, and kept herfelf in the way with 
 the fame perfiftency that Rachel mowed in 
 her retreat, but has been, neverthelefs, very 
 charming, I muft fay. 
 
 But laft night Ralph announced it all to his 
 
 mother, 
 
An Undo feted Skeleton. 59 
 
 mother, and told her that Rachel was only 
 waiting her confent, and then he went on to 
 tell how the whole happinefs of his life de- 
 pended upon it ; and when Aunt M. fobbed 
 out fomething about the fplendid profpects 
 before him, he declared that he never mould 
 have had any profpects if it had not been for 
 Rachel, and fhe was his guiding-ftar, and all 
 that. So Aunt M. confented he mould bring 
 Rachel round that very evening ; and now 
 that 't is a foregone conclufion, I know 't will 
 end in her thinking fhe planned it. . . . 
 
 Everything with a perfect rufh. It looks 
 now as if they would be married this very 
 autumn ; and Ralph talks about going out 
 to you, and carrying on his fludies abroad. 
 Whether in his prefent ecftafy he will find 
 time to fend you a letter befpeaking your 
 congratulations, I dare not promife, although 
 he faid he was going to write you all 
 about it. 
 
 . • 1833- 
 
60 An Unclofeted Skeleton, 
 
 • • • 1833- 
 Dear Joe, — I hope you have my letter 
 telling that the wedding-day is actually fixed, 
 and that Rachel and Ralph will leave directly 
 for Europe by a veffel from Bofton, — the 
 " Siren," I believe ; a (low thing, but what will 
 they mind ? 
 
 We have at laft your letter telling of your 
 fudden departure, fo we conclude you have 
 miffed all ours, with the account of Ralph's 
 famous fuccefs in his very firft term at the 
 medical fchool, and his plan of going abroad 
 for ftudy . . . the remarkable fenfation over his 
 aftonifhing article on certain Hebrew letters, 
 and how he is to be fent out to look up fome 
 philological matters, all expenfes paid, he to 
 remain abroad two years ! As of courfe he 
 muft be married nrft . . . and the wedding 
 will take place at once. Forgive my telling it 
 all over again, but there may be a chance of 
 
 this 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 6 1 
 
 this letter's hitting you fomewhere, if it goes 
 by the " Pacific," which leaves New York a few 
 days before the " Siren," and Ralph is eager to 
 fee you as foon as poffible, to gain your ad- 
 vice about further travels. Poor Aunt M. 
 is well-nigh daft ; fhe flutters about between 
 delight and forrow . . . f o proud of all Ralph's 
 great fuccefs ... at the fame time terrified. 
 Whether fhe is overwhelmed by this fudden 
 and unexpected realization of her wild eft am- 
 bitions for Ralph, or whether fome ftrange 
 morbid feeling is gaining poffeffion of her . . . 
 Only fhe grows more and more fond of Ra- 
 chel, who keeps the fweet, quiet tenor of her 
 way through it all, — fo calm, and yet fo de- 
 voted to Aunt M., who of courfe will mifs 
 Ralph terribly . . . feldom been abfent from 
 her. Indeed, Rachel has urged Aunt M. to 
 go with them, — which fhows what a faint fhe 
 is ; but Aunt M. will not. . . . 
 
 . . . On 
 
62 An Unclofeted Skeletoit. 
 
 ... On the eve of the great event . . . 
 keep my letter open for the laft happy details 
 ... to be married in King's Chapel, — did I 
 fay that before ? — and go up to Groton for a 
 few quiet days before the " Siren " leaves ; and 
 meanwhile I will hurry this letter off for the 
 " Pacific," that it may be fure to reach you a 
 little while before their arrival. I am fo glad 
 that we have at laft your correct and — appar- 
 ently? — permanent addrefs. 
 
 The joyous crifis . . . fuch a lovely day for 
 the wedding ... to be at twelve o'clock — I 
 am perfectly confident I have told you all this 
 full half a dozen times — a reception here 
 afterwards . . . Juft been down for a laft look 
 at the rooms : parlor a bower of flowers fent 
 
 in by the S s from their Brookline green- 
 
 houfe. Aunt M. adjufting herfelf to her beft 
 fatin, and I, in my new filk you fent, am fairly 
 rigid with grandeur. 
 
 Sit. 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 63 
 
 Sit down to begin a letter to you, mainly to 
 tranquillize my nerves : will finifh and fend it 
 off when it is all over and they are gone. 
 
 "All over?" — 'tis all over now. Merci- 
 ful Father, but how ? Oh, my darling brother, 
 how can I write it ! All the brightnefs turned 
 to blacknefs in a minute — It is too terrible ; 
 our only hope now is in you . . . But I muft 
 ftop and get control of myfelf ; I cannot write 
 coherently. 
 
 Aunt M. and I went in the fame carriage 
 with Ralph to King's Chapel, and I never faw 
 him more lovely, faying fuch fweet things to 
 his mother, — how his marriage would never 
 change his relations to her, expreffing more 
 than ever he has known how to exprefs 
 before ! 
 
 . . . and I wifh I might dwell forever upon 
 this one, but laft, happy moment with Ralph, 
 
 for 
 
64 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 for how can I prepare you for the reft, or how 
 can I defcribe it ! . . . anybody would think 
 . . . yet juft now when I left him to try to 
 finifh this letter, he was talking fo calmly, 
 making his plans with fo much care, that I 
 almoft feel as if the horrors paffed muft be 
 only a nightmare ! . . . 
 
 We arrived at the church, where I left Ralph 
 and Aunt M. in the veftibule, and walked up 
 the aifle on the arm of an ufher, — juft a few 
 friends there, happily for us, — and waited till 
 they mould come in. Ralph with his coufm 
 
 Th ; Rachel with her father, but no 
 
 bridefmaids, happily ! Mr. G., who was to 
 perform the ceremony, came forward, we were 
 all Handing near them, Rachel exquifitely 
 lovely and pale, — when fuddenly I faw Ralph 
 look up, as if dazed at the fcene before him ; 
 then he faid in a low but clear voice to Mr. G., 
 " I cannot go on. Do not go on ! " Then to 
 Rachel, " It cannot be ! " 
 
 It 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 65 
 
 It is like writing out a terrible dream, or 
 trying to. How can I tell of the tremor, the 
 confufion that followed ? Nor do I know how 
 we all came back here, fome few friends with 
 us, — Dr. L., the J.'s ; but I heard Ralph fay 
 diftinctly to Rachel, " It cannot be, Ra- 
 chel ! , I have been married before ! " . . . 
 that Ralph ftill ftubbornly flicks to his pur- 
 pofe of going abroad, and will not even fee 
 Rachel again. They have taken her back 
 to Groton. He is ftrangely quiet, but con- 
 ftantly repeats the fame terrible words : " I 
 cannot marry Rachel ; I have been married 
 before ! " Aunt M. and I confider this . . . ; 
 but how can he — where can he have been 
 married before? He was away, to be fure, 
 without Aunt M. that fpring in Cuba. But 
 he came home as light-hearted, as boyifh, 
 and . . . He refufes to explain, and be- 
 comes violent if queftioned. Once he mut- 
 tered fomething to the effect that . . . and 
 5 " thought 
 
66 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 " thought fhe was dead." What Jlie he 
 meant I . . . 
 
 But he refufes to fee Rachel, and her 
 friends have taken her away . . . proftrated 
 with the fhock . . . threatened with brain- 
 fever. He ftarts . . . Dr. L. goes with him. 
 Aunt M. is overwhelmed . . . and believes 
 this is the refult of over-ftudy, for which 
 JJie is refponfible . . . the greater! trial of her 
 life . . . but has to bear up. 
 
 Strange to fay, my mind conftantly reverts 
 to R.'s accident. What was the nature of the 
 operation Spurzheim performed on R. . . . 
 and in this connection I think too of Ludovic 
 Radzinfki. What has become of him ? He 
 has never appeared again. Is he living, or 
 dead ? 
 
 Paris, 2d Sept., 1833. 
 
 Dear Patty, — Yes, Ralph is here ; turned 
 up yefterday all right. After all your hyfterics, 
 expected to find him a fit fubject for a ftrait- 
 
 jacket. 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 67 
 
 jacket. Nothing of the fort ! Brain affected, 
 
 — pooh ! He 's as calm as a clock, pulfe as 
 fteady and ftrong as my own ; for the reft, he 
 eats like a coal-heaver, and fleeps like a log. 
 
 So much for your melodrama at King's 
 Chapel. The truth is, you Boftoners live in 
 fuch a cramped little rut that when anything 
 the leaft unufual happens you go into fren- 
 zies. What do I think of it ? Nothing at 
 all. Found he could n't ftand his tirefome 
 little fchool-marm, — Rachel do you call her ? 
 
 — and when it came to tying up for life, he 
 broke loofe and gave her the flip ; and I don't 
 much blame him. Or perhaps he had been 
 married before. Suppofe he had : where 's 
 the occafion for all the ecftatics ? 
 
 Meantime, tell Aunt M. to difmifs her frets. 
 I '11 take him under my wing and make a man 
 of him ; begin by making fome of the ftale 
 faintlinefs out of him, and teaching him a 
 little wholefome wickednefs. 
 
 That 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 That 's all the trouble ; he needs inoculat- 
 ing with the varioloid of fin and naughtinefs. 
 Why, he wanted to go to church this morn- 
 ing, — think he called it " meeting ; " and I 
 fufpect him of faying his prayers at night. 
 
 Oh, yes ! he 's a nice boy enough ; not bad- 
 looking, but fhockingly raw, — no tone, no 
 manner, no civilization. But deuce take him! 
 where did he pick up his French ? He leaves 
 me out of fight ; rattles it off like a magpie. 
 His accent, of courfe, is vile, — founds as if it 
 might have been picked up from a Dutch bar- 
 ber. Withal he has the medical bee in his 
 bonnet. Make a doctor? Not a doubt of 
 him ; it is only by main ftrength I can keep 
 him out of the hofpitals. 
 
 Yes, Dr. L. fent me an account of the ope- 
 ration. Nothing fo very wonderful, — things 
 more ftrange every day at the clinics here. 
 Of courfe your Yankee doctors were aftonifhed. 
 Old " Spurz" was enough to amaze them. A 
 
 ftork 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 69 
 
 ftork defcending amongft the tadpoles of the 
 Frog- Pond would have proved a leffer marvel 
 than a German fpecialift amongft your Bofton 
 quidnuncs. 
 
 Ah, Patty, dear, come over here, girl, and 
 look back on your fpeck of a peninfula, and 
 get a comparative notion of what and where 
 you are in the world. 
 
 " Coming home ? " Not I ! What fhould 
 I come home for, fave to fee you ? I mould 
 ftifle, to begin with ; and befides, fo far as I 
 can make out, all my old fet is broken up, — 
 married, dead, or gone to the devil. No, no, 
 no ! You 'd better come over here, — far 
 and away. 
 
 But to come back to the boy, — tell Aunt 
 M. to reft her foul in peace. He fhall do no 
 work ; I will keep him loafing. I am an ex- 
 perienced loafer myfelf ; and 't is an art, I can 
 affure her. It takes patience, courage, philo- 
 fophy, — nay, wit too, — to be a fuccefsful 
 
 loafer, 
 
yo An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 loafer, — one, that is, who fhall not be a whiner, 
 a valetudinarian, a gamefter, or a fot. 
 And fo, dear Sis, good-by to you. T 
 
 Hanover, Oct. 9, 1833. 
 Dear Patty, — Yes, Hanover ! You may 
 well rub your eyes ; I 've been rubbing mine 
 ever fince I got here. None the lefs here I 
 am, dragged away from home hundreds of 
 miles, at the heels of this reftlefs cub of a 
 coufin. Why did we come ? Becaufe the 
 young rafcal would be ftudying and diffecting, 
 inftead of amufmg himfelf. Talk of the de- 
 lights of Paris ! why, they were drugs in the 
 market ; the moft blafe old gar^on of fifty 
 could n't have been more bored and indiffer- 
 ent. Nothing would do but Germany. So 
 here we are : anything for peace. I 'm the 
 man with the dog. I hold the leafh, but the 
 dog drags me where he lifts. A pretty pace, 
 too, we go at ! I 'm not fo flight as I was. I 
 
 don't 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 7 1 
 
 don't want to fhock you, Patty, dear, but my 
 waift meafures — hang fractions ! let us fay a 
 round forty ; and I fometimes puff a bit going 
 up-ftairs, — all of which means that I like to 
 go my own gait. 
 
 You 'd think this city was the young man's 
 native heath. Egad, and he fpeaks the jargon 
 even better than he did French, gabbles it 
 off in a way that chokes and confounds me. 
 Places too, he knows them every one, — 
 ftreets, fquares, buildings, markets ; greets 
 them with an air of recognition, each and all, 
 as " loved fpots that his infancy knew." . . . 
 But latterly I 've had a little peace. He has 
 found a companion, — a young Englilhman, 
 grandfon to a lord, and fo, of courfe, eminent- 
 ly refpe6lable. But the Britifher has other 
 equipments, fuch as fome fenfe, a dafh of 
 fpirit, and a little knowledge of the world; 
 and fo I let R. loofe with him, while I, I take 
 my eafe in my inn, — what eafe I may, with 
 
 their 
 
72 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 their vile Teuton cooking and their feather- 
 beds to fleep betwixt. . . . 
 
 . . . Buddington — that 's the Englifhman 
 — improves on acquaintance. He and R. are 
 getting as thick as thieves. R. calls him 
 "Bud " already, and he counters with "Rafe." 
 Bud has a fiendifh vigor, — I dread his ap- 
 proach, except when tamed by fatigue. He 
 drags R. about from dawn to dark, fight-fee- 
 ing. They go to the galleries, cathedrals, 
 libraries, arfenals, and all that nonsenfe. I 
 join them in the evening at the concert-gar- 
 den or the theatre. It works well. The 
 Englifhman is a treafure. I appreciate and 
 efteem him ; he 's worth at leaft feveral times 
 his weight in any known metal. . . . 
 
 What think you now is on the tapis ? No 
 lefs than a trip to India. I can fancy the big 
 eyes you and Aunt M. will make at the an- 
 nouncement. Not for me, grace a Dieit ! 
 I 'm counted out. 
 
 Tis 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 73 
 
 'T is the Englifhman again. " See India 
 and die," is John Bull's motto, you know. 
 Well, Ralph took the fever from him, and 't is 
 a good thing. Now pray do not go into 
 fpafms, you two foolifh women ! Nothing 
 better could happen to Ralph, I fay. In the 
 firft place, he is well, vigorous, and alert, and 
 able to look out for himfelf. If he were not, 
 he is to have the very belt, travelling compan- 
 ion that could be imagined. Bud is fhrewd, 
 felf-reliant, a good fellow, and quite devoted 
 to Ralph. Moreover, he travels with a valet, 
 and has letters of introduction to all the gov- 
 ernment officials. So " go along and god- 
 fpeed " to them, I fay. . . . 
 
 . . . draws near ; they will fet out in a 
 week. I go with them as far as Paris. 
 
 Tell Aunt M. 't is quite out of the queflion 
 for me to go. 'T would be the fure death of 
 me. I have loft five and twenty pounds al- 
 ready fince I left home. Neverthelefs, com- 
 fort 
 
74 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 fort her with the affurance that I (hall fee R. 
 ftocked with flannels, brandy, and all necef- 
 fary grandmotherly cautions about the cli- 
 mate, againfb her firft letter, which fhe may 
 direct to Calcutta pofte rejtante. R. will fend 
 the addrefs in due time. 
 
 Again I fay, Difmifs all fears and anxieties, 
 and believe me, Your broth 
 
 Joe. 
 
 Paris. 
 
 Dear Patty, — The enclofed will fpeak for 
 itfelf. 'T is from Buddington. He is Britifh 
 to the heels, and would not yield to panic 
 without caufe. The King's Chapel bufinefs 
 rifes before my eyes in a new light. 
 
 With regard to this affair, I can only fay, 
 Wait ! Withhold judgment until you hear 
 from me. I ftart for India at once, — am 
 hurrying on my packing at this very moment, 
 and in a few hours lhall be off. 
 
 Poor 
 
An Unclofe ted Skeleton. 75 
 
 Poor Aunt M. ! Make light of it to her. I 
 am confcience-ftricken that I ever let him out 
 of my fight. Still — ftill — ftill, this may all 
 prove a falfe alarm ; they are but boys after 
 all, — there mult be fome explanation. Don't 
 borrow needlefs trouble. Again I fay, Wait ! 
 You may depend on me to do everything that 
 can be done. Here is Buddington's letter. 
 Will write the moment I arrive. 
 
 Affectionately, T 
 
 Dhacca, Bengal, Jan 4, 1834. 
 
 Joseph Clyde, Esq. : — 
 
 Dear Sir, — Your prefence here at the 
 earlieft poffible moment is required. A moft 
 diftreffing thing has happened. I cannot flop 
 to give details, but write poft-hafte to catch 
 the mail about to clofe. Everything con- 
 nected with the affair is involved in myftery. 
 I can only fay now that an appalling tragedy 
 
 has 
 
76 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 has been committed, and that your coufm is 
 implicated. I am of courfe firmly convinced 
 of his innocence, but muft confefs his own be- 
 havior is molt extraordinary and inexplicable. 
 I am mocked to add he is in cuftody. Make 
 hafte, dear fir, and lofe not a moment in com- 
 ing to his aid. Meantime, I need not affure 
 you I will do everything in my power to 
 fuftain and defend him. Believe me, with 
 much refpect, 
 
 Your obedient, humble fervant, 
 
 St. George Buddington. 
 
 Calais. 
 P. S. Dear Patty, — Have kept this open 
 for a laft word. Am already, as you fee, en 
 route. Have written ahead that all legal pro- 
 ceedings be fufpended until I arrive, that I 
 fhall be able fully to vindicate the boy. One 
 thing you muft do for me, — get an affidavit 
 from Doctors J., W., and the reft, of the 
 
 exact 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 77 
 
 exact nature of the operation performed by 
 Spurzheim upon R., as alfo another affidavit 
 from one or more eye-witneffes of the King's 
 Chapel affair, and forward to me at Dhacca, 
 without delay. 
 
 Yours affectionately, T 
 
 Dhacca, Bengal, July 10, 1834. 
 
 Dear Patty, — Arrived here yefterday. 
 Lofe not a minute in affuring you of Ralph's 
 health and innocence. Now, having faid fo 
 much, I muft beg you to have patience. . . . 
 A commiffion has already been fent to Bofton 
 to take teftimony. ... I will not difguife from 
 you that this is an ugly bufinefs. God only 
 knows what will be the iffue of it . . . The 
 ftory is too long and complicated for me even 
 to attempt to tell it here. Neither can I fpare 
 the time. Every minute now muft be given 
 to Ralph. The belt I can do is to inclofe a 
 
 fragment 
 
j 8 An Unclofe ted Skeleton. 
 
 fragment of Buddington's diary, which he has 
 allowed me to copy, giving a brief account of 
 all that is thus far known of the matter. 
 
 B. deferves our warmeft thanks. He has 
 acted like a man ; not only that, but a ftead- 
 faft, loyal friend, and that too in the face of 
 the blackeft array of circumftances . . . what- 
 ever may come. 
 
 Here is the diary : you will fee from it what 
 a tafk is before me to eftablifh R.'s innocence. 
 No time for another word. Will write again 
 foon. 
 
 Affectionately, 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE INDIAN DIARY OF 
 ST. GEORGE BUDDINGTON. 
 
 Dec. 5th. Set out with Wheaton from 
 Calcutta for a trip through Northern India. 
 Hired a large budgerow and two pulwars; 
 fhipped our faddle-horfes, traps, and natives 
 
 . . . Thick 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 79 
 
 . . . Thick fogs every morning, broiling heat 
 at noonday . . . piclurefque but horribly fil- 
 thy villages on banks. . . . Paffed Company's 
 military fchool at Allipore . . . Government's 
 falt-works . . . murdered body of a native on 
 river-bank. . . . Entered Soondurbunds ; . . . 
 Mangoes, peepuls, palmettoes, cocoa-nuts, and 
 date-trees line the banks . . . myriads of fire- 
 flies. . . . 
 
 1 oth. Not a fliot all day at anything . . . 
 river full of porpoifes . . . dandies gooning the 
 budgerow waded up to their knees in black 
 mud ... air darkened by flocks of parrots. 
 
 15th. Lugaod at eight o'clock for hunt in- 
 land. Traverfed a neighboring jheel : found 
 multitudes of ibis, manichors, paddy-birds ; 
 not one within range. R. difcovered foot- 
 print of tiger, and gave the alarm. We beat 
 a hafty retreat. 
 
 17th. . . . and paffed mug-boats from 
 Chittagong . . . river bounded by villainous 
 
 marines, 
 
So An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 marfhes, harboring flocks of herons, bitterns, 
 ducks, etc. R. killed a fine brace . . . 
 
 20th. Arrived at Dhacca : this city one of 
 the largefb in India, on the Boorigunga, one 
 hundred and fifty-five miles northeaft from 
 Calcutta. Much to be feen. Difembarked 
 for a ftay of feveral weeks. . . . Found very 
 comfortable quarters near the Refidency in 
 houfe of a ftaff-officer, kindly lent to us by 
 owner, juffc about fetting out on a furveying 
 tour on the Upper Ganges. 
 
 21ft. Very comfortably fettled; our kid- 
 mutgar feeds us on the fat of the land, from a 
 capital market clofe by in the chowk. . . . 
 Report ourfelves at Refidency ; very kindly 
 received. 
 
 22d. R. amazes me by talking Bengalee 
 as glib as a native ; affects to be as amazed 
 as myfelf, fvvears he never ftudied it ; but I am 
 getting ufed to his waggery. 
 
 23d. We are overrun with company ; of- 
 ficers 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 ficers of the — th Royal Artillery, quartered 
 here, dined with us to-day. R. delights 
 everybody ; they flare to fee an American 
 with fuch accomplifhments. . . . Here is 
 where the famous India muflins are made. 
 Went to fee the pits dug in ground, where 
 the natives Hand while weaving . . . 
 
 24th. Vifited the elephant-fheds : hun- 
 dreds of the young animals brought here to 
 be tamed and trained. A thought occurred 
 to me : fuggefted to R. that we hire a couple, 
 and go tiger-hunting in the jungle. He caught 
 eagerly at the notion, and has given me no 
 peace fince in the matter. 
 
 25th. Bought five oranges, four for a pice 
 . . . went to wait upon the nabob of Dhacca, — 
 a mere boy, illiterate as a clown, they fay, 
 and well-nigh as poor . . . decided at laft 
 on our tiger-hunt. Went again to elephant- 
 pens ; there fell in with a trader from Lahore, 
 a Seik elephant-dealer . . . 
 
 6 26th. 
 
82 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 26th. The Seik came to our houfe to 
 dicker about elephants for our hunt, — a tall, 
 wiry, powerful figure, fierce eye, and infolent 
 manner ; at his heels a fullen, dogged-looking 
 retainer with the air of a Thug, — a precious 
 pair ! R. ralhly pulled out a fat-looking purfe ; 
 caught the Seik eying it greedily. Took R. 
 to talk afterwards for his imprudence ; he only 
 laughed. 
 
 28th. . . . Hunt fixed at laft for Thurfday 
 week ; officers of the — th to join us. . . . 
 The Seik with his Thug comes every day to 
 chaffer ; by turns impudent and cringing ; ex- 
 tortionate in his demands. R., with Yankee 
 thrift, declines to be fwindled. 
 
 30th. Savage row with the Seik. Came 
 as ufual, his minion at his heels. R., tired of 
 his infolence, bade him begone. The Seik 
 became furious, and half drew a knife. I 
 oftentatioufly picked up a piftol from the 
 table; he faw it, and checked himfelf. . . . 
 
 r., 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 83 
 
 R., in a towering rage, thruft them forth ; a 
 loud altercation followed in the ftreet ; a 
 crowd gathered from the neighboring chowk. 
 I dragged R. in, and fhut the door. 
 
 January 2d. Startling news of the murder 
 of the Seik ; his body found horribly mangled 
 . . . vifit from the Jemadar . . . Abfurd no- 
 tion, R. fufpected of the crime on account of 
 the quarrel the other day. The rumor fpread 
 like wild-fire amongft ' the natives. Street 
 thronged by excited Bengalefe, befieging our 
 door and demanding vengeance ; detachment 
 of the — th fmuggled into the houfe for our 
 protection ; meafures taken by Government 
 to prevent a riot ; the mob with difficulty 
 difperfed. 
 
 3d. R. behaves in a very ftrange way ; 
 mows neither furprife, horror, nor indignation 
 at the charge ; is quiet, calm, and pre-occu- 
 pied ; will fay nothing, takes no intereft in 
 meafures for his defenfe. 
 
 4th. 
 
84 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 4th. Excitement unabated ... A moft 
 mocking development ; R. publicly confeffes 
 that he committed the murder ; his friends 
 and all the Englifh here horrified ; 't is im- 
 poffible and abfurd ; the fhock mult have 
 affe6led his reafon. Yet he feems quite col- 
 lected. I argue and plead with him, beg for 
 an explanation ; he refufes to go into the 
 matter, but perfifts in declaring himfelf 
 guilty. Nothing can be done in the face 
 of this avowal. Wrote at once to his coufin 
 at Paris. 
 
 5th. . . . R. taken into cuftody ; led away 
 to the Kutwalee for examination, — an im- 
 menfe crowd at his heels. Employed a noted 
 Vakeel to defend him, and defpatched a mef- 
 fenger for the moft eminent Englifh counfel 
 to be had in Calcutta. Meantime, we fit in 
 the dark. R. will fay nothing, and the only 
 facts thus far afcertained with regard to the 
 tragedy are thefe : — 
 
 Thurfday, 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton, 85 
 
 Thurfday, p. m., after the quarrel at our 
 houfe . . . and the Seik went home, talking 
 to the rabble with great violence . . . Was 
 next feen alive and well in the chowk, towards 
 evening, bartering . . . Accompanied later 
 to his bungalow by a well-known merchant 
 of Dhacca, who parted with him on the 
 threfhold as the Thug opened the door. 
 Nothing more feen or known until he was 
 found . . . and evidences of a fierce ftruggle 
 all about the room and the body. 
 
 Dhacca, . . . 1834. 
 
 Dear Patty, — This is to be but a hurried 
 line for Aunt M.'s comfort ; have been work- 
 ing night and day fince I arrived. You un- 
 derftand that the trial was put off until I 
 came, on the underftanding that I could give 
 evidence which would free the accufed. 
 
 Notwithftanding Ralph's confeffion, his 
 
 counfel 
 
86 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 counfel have of courfe put in a technical 
 plea of " not guilty," on which we fhall go to 
 trial. The cafe againft him is purely inferen- 
 tial, and the evidence contemptible, were it 
 not for his obftinately infifting that he com- 
 mitted the crime. I am waiting anxioufly 
 now for the return of the commiffion from 
 Bolton to meet that confeffion. 
 
 Meantime, there is one obvious courfe to be 
 taken ; to wit, the difcovery of the real mur- 
 derer. This, confidering the Hindoo hatred of 
 the Englifh, and their natural zeal in fhielding 
 each other, is an almoft hopelefs talk. How- 
 ever, I have left no ftone unturned, and have 
 reafon to believe that I am on the track of the 
 right man. 
 
 Ralph, of courfe, is ftill in cuftody, but 
 everything poffible has been done for his 
 comfort ; he is in a moody, melancholy ftate, 
 as though he were a real culprit. I have had 
 the moft diftinguifhed experts here to vifit him, 
 
 but 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 8y 
 
 but they find nothing whatever the matter 
 with his mind. 
 
 Yours juft come to hand, by the fame mail 
 with the commiffion, etc. ; never was fo glad 
 to fee your handwriting. I am now ready for 
 the trial, and confident of an acquittal ; . . . 
 and what you fay of the Pole is very ftrange. 
 " Difappeared directly after the operation," ■ — 
 humph ! Why did he go ? Where can he have 
 gone ? How do we know his name really was 
 Radzinfki ? How do we know Spurzheim knew 
 anything about him fave in a profeffional way? 
 
 No time for more ; muft gird up my loins 
 
 now for the trial. Courage, patience ! 
 
 Yours, 
 
 Joe. 
 
 Dhacca. 
 Dear Patty, — Thank God, the boy is 
 fafe ! The trial is over. I never . . . ex- 
 citing 
 
88 An Unclofeted Skeleton, 
 
 citing and exhaufting a fcene. As I faid be- 
 fore, there was no evidence againft Ralph 
 worth confidering . . . All went well till R. 
 fuddenly took it into his head to rife in the 
 prifoner's dock and offer himfelf as a wit- 
 nefs. Defpite all we could do, too, he infilled 
 upon it, and thereupon took the ftand and 
 repeated his confeffion in open court. The 
 profecution promptly moved for judgment 
 upon the confeffion ; but our counfel from 
 Calcutta, a very aftute man, infifted upon his 
 right to examine the witnefs. He was very 
 adroit ; he addreffed R. kindly and fympa- 
 thetically, and led him on to defcribe the de- 
 tails ... all faw at once not only that, but 
 times, places, and incidents were fo wholly 
 different from the known facts in the Seik's 
 cafe. While this was going on I faw Budding- 
 ton making towards me . . . and an Englifh 
 merchant whom he prefented. The Engli 
 . . . whifpered, " This is all about a famous 
 
 murder 
 

 An Unclofeted Skeleton, 89 
 
 murder committed in Calcutta ten years ago." 
 I notified our counfel directly . . . The Eng- 
 lishman was placed in the witnefs-box, and 
 teftified as to the former crime ; the official 
 records were brought, confirming the evidence 
 . . . great fenfation in court. 
 
 Following hard upon this came the affidavits 
 from Bofton as to the operation on Ralph, and 
 the fcene at the King's Chapel ; then I took 
 the ftand, and by his certificate of baptifm and 
 his diploma mowed that Ralph was a Latin 
 School boy in roundabouts ten years ago. 
 And fo the thing was done. Nothing more 
 curious in the whole proceeding than Ralph's 
 own profound aftonifhment at the account of 
 the operation. He ftared at me with abforbed 
 intereft, feeling unconfcioufly of the left fide 
 of his head and . . . 
 
 Among the natives . . . the moft intenfe in- 
 tereft manifefted in the trial . . . court-room 
 
 crowded 
 
90 An Unclofeted Skeleton* 
 
 crowded . . . line the ftreet . . . with breath- 
 lefs intereft . . . and will infallibly regard 
 the refult with diftruft and fufpicion. . . . 
 
 By advice of the officials, Ralph was 
 quietly fmuggled away as foon as it was 
 known he was acquitted . . . He is now 
 clofely watched and guarded . . . The city 
 in a turmoil over the news that he has 
 efcaped. 
 
 R. himfelf has not recovered from the 
 defcription of the Spurzheim operation ; it 
 was a ftartling revelation to him. One refult 
 of his reflection has already appeared : this 
 morning I faw in the mail a letter directed to 
 Rachel Cleverly. 
 
 I need not defcribe to you the delight of 
 Buddington ; he has fhown the tendereft fym- 
 pathy and confideration all through . . . nor 
 that we fhall lofe no time in getting away 
 from here. 
 
 You will be glad to hear that the real cul- 
 prit 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 9 1 
 
 prit is found ; and who, do you think ... no 
 lefs a perfon than . . . nurfed his vengeance 
 for years . . . entered his fervice with that 
 diabolical intent ... his bufinefs, murder 
 and affaffination . . . and difdained even to 
 rob his victim. 
 
 We leave here day after to-morrow. Bud- 
 dington will go with us as far as Calcutta . . . 
 and Ralph himfelf is frantic to get home . . . ; 
 has been a different man fince he heard that 
 fecret paffage in his hiftory . . . and broods 
 over it conftantly. 
 
 Will try to write you a word from Calcutta ; 
 till when good-by. 
 
 From your brother 
 
 Joe. 
 
 Boston, June 5, 1835. 
 
 Dear Joe, — ... and you can imagine 
 our ftate of mind fince. Aunt M. was clean 
 befide herfelf for the firft time in her life, and 
 
 I 
 
92 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 I felt more like a fpinning-top than a human 
 being . . . Then he has grown and devel- 
 oped f o ; why didn't you tell us? Oh, Joe, 
 what a fine, manly creature he is ! What a 
 large, generous way he has, and withal an air 
 fo potent ! 
 
 You were right about . . . hardly been 
 here an hour when he began to grow reftlefs, 
 and at laft fairly tore himfelf from Aunt M.'s 
 embraces to hurry around and fee her . . . 
 and it culminated when he brought her back 
 with him to tea . . . evident at a glance that 
 it was all " fixed up." Dear Rachel, fo 
 fweet, fo ready to forgive, fo brave to dare 
 the tragic chances fuch companionfhip may 
 bring ! Dear Ralph, fo penitent, fo loyal, 
 fo devoted, — at his poffible worft " like 
 fweet bells jangled out of tune," and nothing 
 more. 
 
 Such an evening as that, — fuch excitement, 
 fuch tears, fuch laughter, fuch noife, fuch in- 
 coherence, 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 93 
 
 coherence, fuch a delightful jumble of Bed- 
 lam and Paradife as I fhall never know again 
 on earth ! I went to bed hoarfe as a crow, 
 with a lump as big as a potato in my throat, 
 my head on fire, my feet like ice, with a 
 vague impreffion that a calendar year had 
 paffed fince funrife. . . . 
 
 Ralph has at laft had a talk with his mother. 
 I knew it was coming ; for days he has had 
 intermittent fits of fathomlefs gloom. You 
 need not be told the fubject of that talk. 
 Dear, dear, dear me ! Aunt M. came, with 
 ftreaming eyes, to tell me of it and of the 
 poor boy's hopelefs, abject mifery under the 
 dark cloud which fhadows his life . . . and 
 confulted perfonally all the doctors who were 
 prefent. He is very curious, too, to learn 
 more of Radzinfki, and has already fet on foot 
 inquiries to difcover fomething of his hiftory 
 or whereabouts, if ftill living. 
 
 We 
 
94 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 We have had all the town here to vifit. 
 Ralph was always a favorite, and as foon as it 
 got out that he had come home cured, all his 
 old friends came flocking in. 
 
 . . . nothing publicly known, of courfe, 
 about the trial in India. The doctors figning 
 the affidavit advife Aunt M. to keep filent, 
 things get fo exaggerated and diftorted . . . 
 do no good, and prejudice R. for years. 
 
 A molt, fingular and ingenious device dif- 
 covered for Ralph's relief ! He is enthufiaftic ; 
 we are all hopeful over it. 'T is fo fimple, and 
 feems fo reafonable. And who do you think 
 difcovered it, invented, fuggefted, or thought 
 it up ? Why, Rachel ; yes, really. Does n't 
 it feem as if there were moral compenfations 
 in life ? I don't know what a moral compen- 
 fation is, but I mean, does n't it feem queer, 
 weird, fupernatural, — or whatever the prop- 
 
 ereft 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton, 95 
 
 ereft word is, — that Jlie fhould have difcov- 
 ered it ? 
 
 " What is it ? " Why, I am coming to that 
 this very minute : fhe fuggefts that he fhall 
 keep always with him a chronological index ! 
 
 There, now, you are none the wifer ! I 
 knew you would n't be. I gloried in the 
 thought ; it is fo delightful to be able to 
 teach you one thing, after all your years and 
 years of patronage and condefcenfion. Well, 
 then, a chronological index is a brief tabulated 
 account or lift of all the momentous events of 
 one's life, with dates attached. Very good ; 
 now note the refult. Armed with fuch a vade- 
 mecum, all Ralph has to do when any ftrange 
 or uncanny remembrance feizes him is to 
 whip out his chronological index, and deter- 
 mine at a glance whether he is remembering 
 as Ralph Wheaton the Yankee, or Ludovic 
 Radzinfki the Pole, and acl accordingly. 
 
 Think if he had but been provided with fuch 
 
g6 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 a fafeguard on that day at King's Chapel, or 
 through thofe terrible fcenes in India ! We 
 are all ecftatic over the difcovery ; it feems 
 once for all to fettle the trouble. At any 
 rate, it has already lifted the heavy load that 
 lay on Aunt M.'s heart, and delivered Ralph 
 forth from the dark and pitiable melancholy 
 which was fall fettling upon him. And now 
 nothing remains to interfere with . . . 
 
 This letter, as you fee, has already been 
 dragging its flow length along for feveral 
 days, fo I will now make an end of it. But I 
 cannot flop without faying that Aunt M. will 
 never, never forget your care and efforts in 
 Ralph's behalf. I tell her — but no matter 
 what I tell her ; you are too conceited already. 
 From your doting filler Patty. 
 
 Boston, Sept. 12, 1S35. 
 Now, Joe, you will never be fo unreafon- 
 able as to look for coherence, rhetoric, or in- 
 telligence 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 97 
 
 telligence in this letter. You will not want 
 to hear much ; the turmoil we are in would 
 drive you to diffraction. I can only think of 
 the witches' fong in " Macbeth " (or wherever 
 elfe it was in Shakfpeare), " Mingle! mingle! 
 mingle ! " We do mingle ; we do fcarcely 
 anything elfe. We mingle conftantly, we 
 mingle frantically ; we not only mingle 
 things, — everything about us, — but we 
 mingle ourfelves. I am mingled fo hopeleffly 
 with frills and tuckers, ravellings, patches, and 
 fhreds, that my pure, mining, unadulterated 
 felf will never more be feen on earth. 
 
 . . . and you need not afk what 't is all 
 about. Rachel's trouffeau is being made here. 
 Poor girl ! fhe had nowhere elfe ... he 
 wants it again at King's Chapel, that the 
 memory of that former day may be . . . but 
 Rachel will not hear of it ; not even the efful- 
 gence of her prefent happinefs can make her 
 forget that dreadful time ; and fo 't is to be 
 7 here 
 
98 An Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 here at home, and quiet as may be. Every- 
 thing . . . and even the cake made in our 
 own kitchen. 
 
 In the midft of all the hurly-burly a little 
 incident . . . which has comforted us all 
 very much. Dr. L., who follows Ralph round 
 like a confidant in an old French play, — when 
 he is not following fome one elfe, you know, 
 — was wandering the other day through a 
 fide ftreet with him, when they came upon that 
 moft unufual thing in Bolton, a Jewifh fyna- 
 gogue (you remember it), and pufhed in. A 
 marriage ceremony was going on. Ralph 
 looked bewildered, then ftartled, Dr. L. fays, 
 juft as he did that day at King's Chapel ; 
 then fuddenly feized Dr. L.'s arm and drag- 
 ged him out, muttering, " No, no ; I never 
 was there, that was his wedding ! " For an 
 hour afterwards he rufhed Dr. L. up and 
 down the Common in the wildeft excitement. 
 In the end he calmed down, more like his 
 
 former 
 
An Unclofeted Skeleton. 99 
 
 former felf than we have feen him fmce com- 
 ing back; bringing Dr. L. home to tell Rachel 
 another event in her chronology of Radzin- 
 fki. We thanked Dr. L. for helping R. to 
 fight out this firft battle with himfelf ; but he 
 faid, " Since I helped put Radzinfki's foreign 
 tongues into his head, the leaft I can do is 
 to help wipe out the memory of his foreign 
 wives." 
 
 If you could live and breathe twenty-four 
 hours in this Puritan atmofphere, I could fain 
 wifh for you to pop in upon us now, — fuch 
 an ecftatic houfehold . . . and I really be- 
 lieve Aunt M. is as fondly, foolifhly happy as 
 they themfelves. 
 
 Your prefent has arrived ; it is exquifite ; 
 we are in fits of rapture over it. How did 
 you ever think of fending it, before you ever 
 knew that . . . and your congratulations too, 
 
 — it 
 
ioo An Unclofeted Skeleton* 
 
 — it is downright uncanny ...I'm fure I 
 did n't even whifper a word about a wedding 
 in my laft. I was fworn to fecrecy. 
 
 It has come and gone, — how like a dream, 
 like a meteor in the Iky, like an anthem on 
 the organ, like everything beautiful, joyous, 
 and tranfitory . . . but I cannot defcribe it. 
 I am limp with reaction ; my heart is cram- 
 med to burfting with unadulterated content ; 
 my brain reels with fweet reminifcences ; a 
 glory of funfhine, fongs of birds, perfume of 
 flowers, fweet congratulations, fooliili tears ; 
 and fuch was the end — I mean the beginning. 
 
f e (9tfjev Worte 
 
 Of ye People who wrote 
 "AN UNCLOSETED SKELETON," 
 
 And likewife what hath been fayd of them by 
 
 divers fcribes, and by ye goodlye com- 
 
 panye of ye Newfpaper PreiTe. 
 
 Agnes Surriage 
 
 (By Edwin Lajfetter Bynner) 
 
 is a work of ye fpecies called romance, and treateth faga- 
 cioufly of ye long-pan: days of ye noble and much-lamented 
 Royal Governors of ye Maffachufetts Bay Province, what 
 time ye fouldiers did march away to withftand ye Ffrench 
 array before Louifburg, and ye many fair maids of Bofton 
 town did fpinne flax on ye Common. She whofe name ye 
 booke doth beare, and whofe ftrange and wonderful adven- 
 tures it doth fet forth, was a comely lafs of Marblehead, 
 borne from her native rocks by a very gallant and debonair 
 knight of England. Nor mail we indite further as to what 
 befell thefe love-lorn people; for whofo doth take unto 
 himfelf the booke, thefe events to determine and afcertain, 
 fball have great content. 
 
Agnes Surriage. 
 
 Now fhall we alfo add hereunto thefe words of many wife 
 gentlemen and learned fcholars, that after generations may 
 fee with what efteem ye gentles of ye nineteenth century 
 looked upon " Agnes Surriage." 
 
 Ye Reverend George Edzoard Ellis faith : " Mr. Bynner, 
 keeping clofely to hiftoric facts, weaves the characters and 
 incidents into a very delightful and even inftructive narra- 
 tive, filled with all the atmofphere, furroundings, and focial 
 life of the time and place identified with his ftory. . . . We 
 have no equally adequate delineation of life and fociety in 
 the Bofton of that time. Old landmarks, ftreets, and homes 
 are identified ; the fafhions and amufements of the fcene 
 are recalled with hiftoric perfonages. His ftudy of quaint 
 old Marblehead has qualified him to fet down for us the 
 moft lively and picturefque defcription ever yet drawn of 
 it ; and by an effort of patience and fkill moft commenda- 
 ble, he has reproduced for us the linguiftic provincialifms 
 of the fifher town and people, with their wild, rough ways. 
 Not even Dickens has wrought out a more lifelike and 
 artiftic interior defcription, colloquy, and ferio-comic re- 
 hearfal than Mr. Bynner gives us in an epifode between the 
 dry and pious widow at the North End of Bofton — at 
 whofe houfe Agnes, the fchool-girl, boarded — and the 
 canting elder who was ' courting ' her." 
 
 Thomas Bailey Aldrich faith : " Altogether, we may con- 
 gratulate the author on a well-earned fuccefs, and the 
 reader on the poffeffion of a new and unufual pleafure. 
 Our literature is not fo rich in hiftorical fiction that we 
 can afford to neglect fo good a book as this." 
 
Agnes Surriage. 
 
 Julian Hawthorne faith : " The conception of the char- 
 acter of Agnes is ftrong and fine. It has a rich and mellow 
 charm. The ftory in its moral afpecl is as Ample as it is 
 ftrong." 
 
 Arlo Bates faith : " The editor is pleafed at the fuccefs 
 which that admirable hiftorical novel, ' Agnes Surriage,' 
 has achieved. The ftory is one of the moft fafcinating and 
 romantic in all the colonial records, and it has been dealt 
 with in a fpirit keenly alive to all its poflibilities." 
 
 Nora Perry faith : " From chapter to chapter I followed 
 the ftory with ever-increaftng intereft, and ever-in creating 
 refpecT; for the author's fine art of conftruction. The ftory 
 is not only full of charm and reality, but it is beautifully 
 put together." 
 
 Ye Academy (of London) faith : " The charm of the tale 
 lies in its pathetic central conception, in the brightnefs and 
 grace of the general handling, and in the Angularly faithful 
 and realizable handling of the focial atmofphere of the old 
 colonial days." 
 
 Ye New-York Tribune faith : " Mr. Bynner has found 
 an admirable fubje6t for romance in the colonial hiftory 
 of Maffachufetts, and he has treated it with diftinguifhed 
 fkill." 
 
 Ye Bofton Daily Advertifer faith : " It muft be reckoned 
 among the very beft ftories of the feafon, without queftion ; 
 and furthermore, let us haften to add that on the fmall 
 fhelf which holds all the American hiftorical novels worthy 
 of the name, room muft ftraightway be made for ' Agnes 
 Surriage.' " 
 
Agnes Surriage. 
 
 They of London avow, in their Literary World: " Mr. 
 Bynner is no ordinary writer, and the old-world tale of 
 ' Agnes Surriage/ founded on fact, is a ftrange bit of 
 hiftorical romance, than which fiction could produce 
 no ftranger. The primitive, uncouth fifher community in 
 the little bay of Marblehead, on the rocky fliores of Maf- 
 fachufetts, is fplendidly defcribed. . . . There is great 
 excellence of writing throughout this romance of bygone 
 days." 
 
 Alfo Ye Critic, which is y-printed at ye famous Iflande 
 of Manhattan, feareth not to fay : " On the bafis of an old 
 colonial ftory, E. L. Bynner has, in ' Agnes Surriage,' con- 
 ftructed a moft interefling hiftorical novel. He is a thor- 
 ough mafter of the art of ftory-telling, holding the reins 
 of the tale firmly in his hands, and moving fteadily and 
 ftrongly onward in the development of the plot. This is 
 what moft ftrikes a reader, — this power of never writing 
 a dull or an irrelevant page. But the book has better char- 
 acteriftics than this. The characters, true to the middle of 
 the eighteenth century, are yet remarkably alive, and have 
 no kinfhip with the puppets who throng the pages of fo 
 many hiftorical novels. And Agnes and Frankland and 
 Commiffary Price are characters well worth drawing. Mr. 
 Bynner can finely fhow us the workings of hearts and 
 minds through actions and words and looks, but he never 
 analyzes : he leaves that to his readers. The atmofphere 
 of the ftory has no Puritanifm in it, but its influence is all 
 on the fide of a broad catholic morality and purity of life 
 and conduct. ' Agnes Surriage ' is worthy of a more than 
 ephemeral fuccefs." 
 
Agnes Surriage. 
 
 Kate Sanborn calleth it "the beft novel that has come 
 out of Bofton this generation." 
 
 Ye criticke of ye Pojl doth hold : " Paffion and pathos 
 and the fimple but ftrongly marked affections of primitive 
 people are interwoven in effective contraft. The material 
 which hiftory fupplied the author was rich in romantic and 
 dramatic opportunity. Mr. Bynner has enriched it in 
 every phafe with a wealth of hiftorical color and incident. 
 The reader turns with Frankland, in his ride, to overlook 
 Maffachufetts Bay from the bluff at Marblehead, and as 
 naturally lhares the wonderment of Agnes Surriage in 
 gazing about the walls of Horace Walpole's villa at Twick- 
 enham, with its fuggeflions of its earlier occupant." 
 
 Ye literary arbiter of ye Nation addeth : " There is a 
 charm about Mr. Bynner's hiftorical romance of colonial 
 times which engages the reader's fympathies at the outfet. 
 . . . His book is good, and poffeffes, in a rare degree, that 
 quality of atmofphere of the period which is fo difficult of 
 attainment, in addition to an agreeable ltyle, which is fuit- 
 ably ltately, but never heavy." 
 
 And another wight faith: "The blue waters of Maffa- 
 chufetts Bay fparkle through its pages, and the ftorm-winds 
 are heard whiffling acrofs Marblehead Harbor in the quaint 
 old days of the Bay Colony. Bynner has in this romance 
 begun a work for our lovely fea-coaft fuch as Sir Walter 
 Scott did for the iflands and glens of Scotland, cover- 
 ing them with the rich and enduring glamour of poetic 
 affociations." 
 
Penelope s Suitors. — Damens Ghofl. 
 
 Penelope's Suitors. 
 
 (By Edwin Lajfetter Bynner.) 
 
 Few writers of the day have fo well caught the old-time 
 favor, which is much enhanced by the archaic printing, the 
 long f's, catch-words, and fo on. Altogether, the volume, 
 though of veft-pocket fize, is a thoroughly charming bit of 
 book-making. — New- York Commercial Advertifer. 
 
 A dainty, old-fafhioned little volume, — a mo ft delightful 
 ftory of Bofton in Colonial days. — Chicago Tribtme. 
 
 The whole affair is a delicate jetid'efprit, and will delight 
 gentlewomen as well as the man of tafte. — The Beacon. 
 
 Damen's Ghoft 
 
 is ye title of another booke of ye Bynner's devizing, in 
 which ye marvellous manner of ye great Charles Dickens 
 is brought to mind, howbeit ye original fpirit of ye author 
 feeketh no fervile imitation. 
 
 Concerning this book the St. Paul Pio)ieer-Prefs thus : 
 " Like Dickens in his happieft vein. . . . The library of 
 fiction is enriched by the beft of a good feries." 
 
 Ye Philadelphia Telegraph doth call this ghoftly tale " A 
 reflection of Dickens." 
 
 And ye Albany Exprefs concludeth : " It has about it a 
 Dickens flavor, and yet is ftrikingly original and thoroughly 
 charming." 
 
'The Peterkin Papers. 
 
 The Peterkin Papers. 
 
 (By Lucretia P. Hale.) 
 Square quarto. Copioufly illuftrated. 
 
 The very name of this collection of abfurdly laughable 
 (ketches will raife a fmile on the face of the moft lugubrious 
 reader. Mifs Hale's humor is irrefiftible. Her accounts 
 of the doings and experiences of the Peterkins remind one 
 of the ftories of the inhabitant of ancient Gotham who 
 tried to drown eels, and to catch birds by unrounding their 
 nefts. — Bq/ion Tranfcript. 
 
 You declare the book is too filly for anything ; you vow 
 that you will not laugh at what is fo abfurd ; yet you flick 
 to the book and make your fides, and hope dear Mifs Hale 
 will live forever. In fhort, it is a capital conceit, very 
 cleverly wrought out, and full of entertainment for young 
 people. — New - York Exprefs. 
 
 People young and old. folemn and gay, rich and poor, 
 will be glad to welcome a new edition of the " Peterkin 
 Papers." It is pleafant to meet the Peterkin family again, 
 all cheerful, hopeful, puzzled, yet confident, — Solomon 
 John, Agamemnon, Elizabeth Eliza, the little boys with 
 their rubber boots, and the family friend, the benignant and 
 wife " Lady from Philadelphia." — Chicago Tribune. 
 
Ye Prices of ye Bookes hereinbe- 
 fore mentioned are thus Jet forth : 
 
 gffnes §>urrtacre, One Dollar and Fifty cents. 
 
 SDameit'fi <©I)0#, One Dollar; or, in Paper Covers, 
 
 Fifty cents. 
 
 Peitelope'6 Suitors, Fifty cents, all y-bound in 
 quaint board covers, and tied with gray 
 tapes withal, even like unto this prefent 
 booke about ye Unclofeted Skeleton. 
 
 ge Ipetedtm Papery One Dollar and Fifty cents, 
 
 And whofoever doth fend to ye Publifhers 
 either of ye fummes thus fet forth, in return 
 {hall gain unto his Eftate a copy of fuch of the 
 bookes as he may demand, free of the charges 
 of the Poft. 
 
 TICKNOR fef COMPANY, 
 
 Atte ye figne of 21 1 Tremont Street, Boston, 
 
 In ye Governement of Maffachufetts Bay.