Mim 
 
 Kl:
 
 Ji
 
 D0LO 
 
 A HISTORICAL IsOVEL, 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
 
 MAZZINI, 
 
 HARRO-HARRING, 
 
 LA JEUNE ITALIE ' — ETC., ETC., ETC. 
 
 EIGHT BOOKS— COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 
 
 THIRIX (STEREOTYPE) EDITION. 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON. 
 
 1853 
 
 PaBLISBED BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 NEW YORK : DOLORES OFFICE, 1 BOWERY, CORNER OF DIVISION STREET. 
 LONDON : J WATSON, 3 QUEEN S-HEAD P.^SSAGE, PATERNOSTER-ROW.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year ISW, by 
 
 PAUL HARRO EARRING. 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United Stat«B for the 
 
 Southern Ifistrict of New York. 
 
 SKOSSUAM k EOit. Frilt««ri, 
 ^9 ADH-Ktjset
 
 HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION 
 
 TO MAZZINI. 
 
 My Dear Friend : 
 
 In conformity to your consent, I take the lib- 
 erty of dedicating to you the present Edition of 
 my stereotyped work, " Dolores." 
 
 The " Shilling subscription of 1852, in aid of 
 European freedom, the funds raised to be de- 
 posited in your hands " — induced me to offer to 
 you, October last, for the same aim ami pur- 
 pose ; a part of the proceeds of this Work, 
 from all Editions during three years. 
 
 You did accept my proposition, although, ex- 
 pressing your doubt in the circulation and 
 extension of" Dolores," at the present epoch in 
 Europe — where the defence of the universal 
 cause of freedom and humanity is considered as 
 a crime, and all literary works in the same 
 spirit are prohibited, even before they are 
 published. 
 
 I decided on a voyage to the United States, 
 for the purpose of a new Edition of " Dolores," 
 — without parting from tny hopes as a Euro- 
 pean, with regard to the victory of truth and 
 common sense in future. 
 
 I, for my part, participated in the straggles 
 of nations for their deliverance, not only defend- 
 ing the rights of men by means of the Press ; 
 but particularly, also, in the struggles of many 
 nations, by personal activity from my early 
 youth, until the present day ; and I shall never 
 regret to have sacrificed all pretension and all 
 claims to happiness, for the recognized, acknow- 
 ledged cause of freedom and humanity. 
 
 " Wlien a man has no freedom to fight for at home, 
 Let him ccmbat for tltat of liis neighbor.^ ; 
 Let him think of the gluries of (Greece and of Rome, 
 And get knocked oa the he&d lor his labors.'' 
 
 With those sublime words, Byron expressed 
 the very same thought, which inspired himself 
 and me, at the same time, when he wrote those 
 lines, July, 1821. I left my natal Country 
 Denmark, departing from Copenhagen for 
 Greece, as one of the first Philhellenes ; offer- 
 ing my life for the sake of freedom — to act in 
 conformity to my word ; which was already de- 
 posited and published in the form of poetry. 
 
 Thus I left my home when a youth ; and 
 since that time my life has been a continuance 
 of striving and struL'glimg for the same princi- 
 ples, rejecting all the brilliant and lucrative 
 positions offered to me, with the condition of 
 acknowledging the usurping power of Tyranny 
 Church and Monarchy. 
 
 My life is known to you by intimate commu- 
 nications — and partly to the American public, 
 ty a biographical sketch, written by a friend. 
 
 the Honorable Alexander H. Everett, late Am- 
 bassador of the United States to China.* 
 
 I have " got knocked on the head for my 
 labors " — since I did recognize the duties of 
 man towards his neigiibors. 
 
 I discovered by experience the fate of nations, 
 suflering under the yoke of Monarchy " By the 
 Grace of God," and I endeavored to designate 
 the means of deliverance and redemption from 
 the Evil of Slavery. 
 
 Those meajis I recognised as National associa- 
 tions of all classes, to amalgamate people of ad- 
 vanced civilization with people of less devel- 
 opements : Enlightenment by education of 
 those, until that time, neglected classes of the 
 nation, by whose industry, labor, and activity^ 
 the material progress of a country is especially 
 flourishing, and which represents the real 
 power of a nation. No privileged classes, nei- 
 ther privilege from above, nor from below ; ac- 
 knowledgment of all labor, of mental and hamli- 
 craft. 
 
 Having accomplished my studies on Consti- 
 tutional Monarchy, in Poland, in a kind of fin- 
 ishing school, under the usurpation of one of 
 the most outrageous tyrants of our Century. t I 
 reflected on the futurity of Europe. 
 
 I recognised the undisputable truth, that 
 mankind, consisting of nations, will never be 
 free without a practical Jllliance of Nations, 
 on the base of their reciprocal nationalities, in 
 the spirit of Humanity. I conceived " Man- 
 kind " as being a Chaos of which no freedom, 
 {as the means of all civilization,) would ever 
 be realized, without the independence of every 
 nation; the creation of " forms," of Laws, con- 
 formable to the divine principles of Equality, 
 Brotherhood, and Justice. 
 
 Can this truth be refuted by emigrating 
 Cosmopolites and Philanthropists .' Can they 
 hide their selfishness behind the motto : { Ubi 
 bene ibi patria ? May they abandon their 
 brethren in dungeons, sacrificed for freedom 
 and humanity, by pure sentiment of patriotism, 
 tlieir " practical philosophy," (as they call it,) 
 does not discharge Man irom his duties to- 
 wards Mankind. The experiences of a quarter 
 of a century of our political lives, Mazzini! 
 has approved the above truth, the difference 
 between Emigrant and Exile ; and the active 
 Alliance of alt JVations remains the only 
 means of deliverance from the yoke of moral 
 and material slavery. 
 
 * See Alexander H. Everett's Miscellaneous Writings. 2 
 Volumes. Monroe & Co., Bo.ston. 
 
 t Pee Poland under the Dominion of Ru.«!sia. London" 
 Cochrane. 18S1. Also, published in the Swedish, tba 
 French, and the German languages. 
 
 1 Where 1 foe] well, there ia ni}- native country. 
 
 17342^5
 
 17 
 
 HISTORICAL I NTR O D U C TI O N , 
 
 Soon after my nr; ival from Poland, at Stras- 
 burg in France, October, 1831, 1 became " hon- 
 ored " by the visits of a secret agent, a certain 
 Mr. Malten, who was charged by the Prussian 
 Cabinet to buy me, for the service of diplomatic 
 Jesuitism, similar to the miserable propositions 
 and otfers made to me by congenial agents of 
 Austria, 182(3 — and of Russia, 1830. 
 
 At the above epoch, February, 1832, the 
 Duke oi Axigu^tejiburg had commenced his dy- 
 nastic conspiracy, and his "provincial" In- 
 trignes — assisted by public officers and clergy- 
 men — under the secret protection of Prussia : 
 to usurp a Crown — to carry, if possible, a 
 Scandinavian Province into the blessed nothing- 
 ness of the German Confederacy. 
 
 It was proposed to me, to share their scandal- 
 ous operations ; to become a " Blood-broker," 
 — to sell my countrymen to the King of Prussia. 
 
 In answer to such a treacherous proposition, 
 I conceived the above described thought of fu- 
 turity. The mournful fate of Europe lay before 
 me in all its misery of degradation. In con- 
 formity to my consciousness of nationality, pro- 
 voked by treason, I conceived the idea of a 
 Scandinavian JVational Union , founded on the 
 principles of Democracy ; the Scandinavian 
 Republic, connected with the above explained 
 necessity of a moral, spiritual, and practical 
 Alliance of the European nations. 
 
 The same thought of an Alliance of Nations 
 was contemplated by you, also, Alazzini, at 
 the same time, without our personal acquaint- 
 ance, nor correspondence. 
 
 We endeavored, as fur as in our power, to lay 
 the " foundation stone" of such a Union ; and 
 the Union was called " Young Europe," and 
 extended in other parts of the world: " IIu- 
 manita." 
 
 In such a position, and under such circum- 
 stances, our fate became connected, and our 
 Btrivings became united, before our personal 
 acfiuaintance ; August, 1833. 
 
 The most complete harmony and conformity 
 of our political and religious convictions, was 
 the reciprocal spiritual attraction of a sympa- 
 thy, of a friendship, which has become in me 
 one of the most sacred sentiments, and which 
 has accom.panied me from zone to zone — 
 strengthened me in all my restless activity, in 
 all my sufferings, in the solitude of a dreary ex- 
 ile, and in those hours of danger, when I was 
 prepared to die— when my escape from tor- 
 ture and execution appeared almost impos- 
 sible. 
 
 The present work, although in the form of a 
 " Novel," is a manifestation of the Spirit 
 by which we are penetrated, as indefatiga- 
 ble defendants of the Rights of Man, and of the 
 eternal truth oi free Join. 
 
 In the present momeiit in which I am writ- 
 ing,* you are in a similar situation of disap- 
 pearance — in a forced incognito — as I my- 
 self have been several times. Since my arrival 
 in New York, I nm addressed on every occasion, 
 by friends and enemies, with questions about 
 you, which, in a manner, replace the everlast- 
 ing topic of weather. 
 
 Those inquirings about your position, con- 
 nected or not connected with the events in 
 
 • One of the first days of M.iy, ISi;. 
 
 .Milano, becomes as tedious and annoying to 
 me as the Anglo-Saxon topic of the weather. 
 
 I arrived once at New York from South Ame- 
 rica, immediately after the melancholy news 
 from I'^urope, about the arrestation of Bandiera 
 and his companions ; the suppression of a revo- 
 lution in Italy, 1843. 
 
 A natural coalition of ideas and circumstan- 
 ces accompanied my last arrival. 
 
 The self-sacrifice of our immortal Bandiera 
 may be remembered at present, to your justifi- 
 cation before those hastened accusations against 
 you, by some supposed friends. The self-sacri- 
 fice of Bandiera, connected with the proceed- 
 ings of an Italian National Committee, was 
 it not a. free action 1 Did he not offer himself 
 — his life ^o pure and so rich of peace and 
 earthly happiness ! Did he not propose to you 
 " to take the Fate of Italy on his head and in 
 his hand .'" Was he not acting without being 
 instructed by any " usurping command from 
 your side ? — and his arrestation and his execu- 
 tion, and the death of his brother, and their 
 twelve companions — those bloody pages in the 
 history of our epoch, were they not originally 
 dictated by the Conspiracy of Monarchy — 
 and " composed" by the infamous Espionage 
 of unbounded exertions of foreign spies in Eng- 
 land, assisted by the treason of opening letters 
 at the General Post Office in London ? 
 
 I know most intimately your indifference 
 about all individual critics, opinions or 
 judgments of finends and enemies, concerning 
 your position and your actions. Although the 
 arrogant and egotistic lamentations about you 
 — by individuals pretending to be Republicatts 
 and your personal friends — are too great a 
 blame of their own character, as to be to.tally 
 indifferent to true republicans and to your 
 genuine friends. 
 
 I beg you, Mazzini, to remember my letters 
 of 1851, on the difference between a double- 
 faced royal constitutionist and a pure demo- 
 crat republican — also, my last letters to you of 
 1852, on the Hetwria and the two Greek mer- 
 chants at Constantinople, who prevented the 
 appointed outbreak of the insurrection at that 
 place, and the prepared explosion of the Turk- 
 ish fleet, (Jan. the 1st, 1821. a. St ,) by the sim- 
 ple commercial reason : to save two cargoes oj 
 oil in the vicinity of a Turkish frigate : — and 
 you will understand my silence before those in- 
 quirings about the .Iffairs in Italy. 
 
 However, with regard to those attacks on 
 your name and reputation, I have not always 
 been silent ; and my friendship for you, and my 
 above indicated position, may be authorities by 
 which I several times have expressed myself : 
 
 " I am able to ascertain the historical truth, 
 that .Mazzini has never acted, and will never 
 act, from selfish usurpation of command. Maz- 
 zini has never occasioned the death, nor the 
 martyrdom in prison, of a single Italian. He 
 is but the spiritual concentration of all Italian 
 patriotism. The striving element of freedom 
 in Italy is not wanting the " agitation" of any 
 individual, and nobody would be able to create 
 the spirit of freedom where it does not exist in the 
 mind of the nation. All measures possible, (to 
 prevent useless sacrifice of human lives,) have 
 always been taken from his side. But those 
 measures are vain when the most barbarous
 
 HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION, 
 
 criieltios of tj'rannj, (and not the command of 
 an individual,) — dictate the actions of convul- 
 sive despair; the attack otfinir hundred men, 
 Italians ! against a garrison of forty thousand 
 Austrians ! 
 
 A similar fact of sublime Patriotism would 
 be praised as glorious heroism in the annals of 
 ancient history. Futurity will be the judge 
 of those heroes. Their blood is a loud protest 
 of liunianity against the infamies of our epoch 
 — so great in its extension of " Christian Socie- 
 ties," — and in its traffic with oottcn and with 
 Blaves !" 
 
 There exists a certain " fixed idea," or ra- 
 ther a co^ifuscd idea, in the heads of the Con- 
 Bervatives, or lienclionaires, concerning the 
 impulses and motives of free men, sacrificing 
 themselves for the Cause of Humanity. 
 
 After the above confused idea : the struggles 
 for national rights and freedom are but the 
 consequences of the doings and exertions of a 
 few individuals, of -enthusia^stH, obstinate char- 
 acters, homeless vagabonds, and such like, en- 
 titled " wretches," among which, also, a Wash- 
 inglon, a Jefferson, a Franklin, &c., would 
 have been *' registered," in case the American 
 Insurrection would have " failed," oppressed 
 by the destructive power of monarchy, at their 
 
 times. Eepecially for a Washington, 
 
 " Whitehall would have been not very far 
 from Old Bailey ." 
 
 One tyrant governs public opinion, his 
 name is Ignorance, and against that tyrant we 
 have no arms. He attacks the name, the honor, 
 and the life, of a man, but never openly, face to 
 face, but from behind, casting mud and 
 stones, enveloped in newspapers. He wears a 
 cloak of double colors, showing the lining on 
 outside, as soon as success or failure decided 
 on the Fashion. 
 
 The means to suppress the moral and spirit- 
 ual developement of a nation, are recognised 
 in the estaWishment of extensive moral slavery 
 by denying freedom of conscience. Men pro- 
 fessing and advocating the genuine principles 
 of Christianity, the doctrine of " Equality, 
 Brotherhood, and Justice," are to be excluded 
 from society, sentenced to death— if possible 
 executed — their works or mental productions 
 are to be ptohibited by law, and, (where such 
 laws are not " practical,") literature, press, 
 the book-trade, and the running agency is to be 
 monopolized — all publications advocating and 
 defending the rights of men, — freedom of 
 mind — are to be burnt by the Hangmen — or 
 (Id free countries) refused in trade, by " honest 
 and respectable" booksellers. No ray of truth 
 (" the conformity of conception with the sub- 
 ject in reality,") is to be allowed to penetrate 
 the heart of man. Sophism and Lie are to be 
 tauglit in the schools, and Hypocrisy is to be 
 protected instead of Religion! Such are the 
 conditions of moral slavery. 
 
 The pretended dynastic rights (the base of 
 Monarchy " By the grace of God,") are main- 
 tained by the Lie of Priestcraft in open con- 
 tradiction to reality : since there exists but 
 one Kind of Men, (" Mankind,") without privi- 
 lege of birth. In our present days even in Re- 
 publics — in Switzerland, and in the New World, 
 Priests are conspiring with Despots to estab- 
 lish Monarchy, to deprive the nations (if pos- 
 
 sible,) of their sacred rights, to sell the soil of 
 their native country — moistened with the Blood 
 of Patriotism — to any young or ancient dynasty. 
 
 Very often we hear people talking about the 
 " preference of the form of government ; / 
 whether republican or monarcbial ? " Such 1 
 conversations are manifestations of privileged 
 dullness. Not the form but the Spirit and the 
 principles upon which the government is based, 
 makes it legitimate. The only legitimate gov- 
 ernment, by right, is the Republican (Self) 
 Government. " Right" is a truth : and a truth 
 remains truth in eternity. Truth can never 
 be altered to lie, and a right can never be lost. 
 Suppose a right of monarchy existed ; sup- 
 pose the British Crown, or Spain, had ever a 
 right on their " Colonies " in the New World : 
 why could such a right be lost .' Why did the 
 Crowns not maintain such a " right ?" 
 
 In opposite to the lie of dynastic pretension, 
 the truth of Republican (or Self) Government 
 is founded in nature, and in common sense. 
 The truth of many thousand years, can never 
 becume a lie. Mankind existed before any 
 dynasty. 
 
 It is a remarkable and highly interesting 
 fact of Modern History, that the worldly gov- 
 ernment of the Pope has been abolished, and 
 the Roman Republic proclaimed, by unanimity 
 of votes, of a legal national assembly, and that 
 the republican government, (of which you, 
 Mnzzini, was one of the Triumvires,) main- 
 tained order and justice, without a single case 
 of prosecution nor reaction in the interior of 
 the state ; " without shedding a single drop of 
 Blood" — in contrast to the monarchial govern- 
 ments, and to the usurpation of a Pope, whose 
 prime ministers are ; the Hangmen. 
 
 Jlay it be remembered, also, that the last 
 King of Ancient Rome, Tarquinius, a criminal, 
 was treated with the same noble generosity, 
 from the part of the Romans, when he was sent 
 away ; instead of being abused with cruelties 
 of Barbarism, as they are in fashion in monar- 
 chies, .against vanquished republicans. 
 
 Your republican government of 1849, was 
 knocked down by invasion, by tyranny, after a 
 glorious combat, " by the brutal power, and by 
 treason of a foreign League," (as you expressed 
 yourself in one of your friendly letters to me — 
 of April the 16th, 1850.) The barbarous gov- 
 ernment of Rosas, at Buenos Ayres, (treated in 
 the present work, ** Dolores,") may be symbo- 
 lized by the bloody human heads which were 
 continually the chief ornaments at the gates of 
 his palace. The government of Rosas was 
 acknowledged by a Foreign League, by all the 
 European Monarchies, and even by Repulilics of 
 the New World ; which Missionaries of various 
 Sects were admiring witnesses of such a " strong 
 government," without a single expression of 
 feeling of humanity, nor compassion towards 
 all those martyrs of freedom. Such a govern- 
 ment of infamy, crime, and murder was ac- 
 knowledged asa. fait accompli, (indeed a fact of 
 accomplished Barbarism,) and the ambassador 
 of a "great maritine power," aliased" himself 
 by flattering Rosas, and his daughter concu- 
 bine — to the honor of his Chistian (Government. 
 
 Your republican government, founded on the 
 principles of humanity, was certainly 7tot ac- 
 knowledged by those Great Powers of Europe,
 
 HISTORICAL INTRO DtJCTIOir, 
 
 nor by the Priestcraft of any High Church in 
 the New World. You did not govern with the 
 Hangman, and therefore you are prosecuted, 
 and sought to be delivered to the Hangman. 
 
 The last mail from Europe brings, among 
 Others, the glorious news (no news to ourselves 
 since many years) of the " Holy Alliance" be- 
 tween the High Police of the Continent and the 
 State Police in England. 
 
 The "Exile Hunting" in Old England begins, 
 where hunting has been always an aristocratic 
 amusement. Those exertions of espionage 
 again.st all Englishmen in the least friendly 
 connection with an exile — may teach common 
 sense, that there is no difference between the 
 elements and the principles of Constitutional 
 and Obsolute Monarchy ; nothing between the 
 Church and Monarchy of Great Britain, and 
 any Church and Monarchy on the Continent, 
 but — the British Channel. 
 
 My anxieties about your safety, in your pre- 
 sent position, wherever you may be watched by 
 friends, I can but Iwill not express I should be 
 desolate and in despair, if you should be lost, in 
 consequence of those united measures of Hang- 
 manship. Although I know that you are pre- 
 pared to meet the scaffold as well as I have 
 been in similar cases, and as I shall be al- 
 ways ; and I am consoled by a certain positive 
 presentiment, that you will be saved ; that 
 your mission on earth is not yet fulfilled.* 
 
 The same mail brings the important news of 
 a severe prosecution against the Calabrian — 
 Hats, on the Continent, in consequence of which 
 " a whole cart-full have been arrested in Cas- 
 " sel, and the Hatlers in Munich have made 
 " an ineffectual appeal against such proscrip- 
 " tion." Those results are of high importance, 
 as characterizing symptoms of the Despair, or 
 Madness, of Despotism. Since it is impossible to 
 arrest, or to stop the eternal motion — the pro- 
 gress of development — the spirit in mankind ; 
 the enraged tyrants, with their cheap instru- 
 ments of uycll-dressed hunting-dogs, discharge 
 all their fury against — a Hat .' And honest 
 John Bull stands in an open alliance with the 
 Continental llangraanship, to employ all his 
 power in " hunting an 1 beating," in case such 
 a Calabrian — hat should appear on the formerly 
 free soil of Great Britain ! 
 
 In contradiction to such facts, " Uncle Tom" 
 calls the British Territories in the New World, 
 •' the blessed soil of freedom f from which his 
 Grand Uncle Sam has become separated, in 
 consequence of that " unfortunate" Declaration 
 of Independence. 
 
 I should advise Uncle Tom, and all his 
 while friends, for their future excursions to- 
 wards the " blessed soil of freedom — to wear 
 (at all events) no Calabrian Hat. I should 
 advise, also, the United European Police to act 
 in the future with more common sense against 
 the spirit of freedom. Suppose the Hat has 
 
 * Those were the words of an American lady, of your, 
 and my, personal acquaintance, when we heard vf all those 
 inea'*ures to your arre.station on the whole Continent — 
 where even the Coffins were opene.I and visited at Milano — 
 to prevent your escape. " MrUiiiti will iwt be lost ! ex- 
 claimed the'lady. with a remarkable expression of faith 
 and confidence — -They will not find him out ! He is pro- 
 tected His Mis.sion on Earth is not yet 
 
 fulfilled !" The print of the present edition, retarded un- 
 til the news of vL.iir happy arrival in London reached the 
 Sew World.— Jujf li, IbM. Hiiro. 
 
 been made to cover a head in which the prose- 
 cuted idea of freedom might be awakened ; and 
 suppose the idea is to be caught ; would it not 
 be more reasonable to wait until the dangerous 
 head would be in the Hat ! If the form or 
 shape of a Hat can be dangerous to a throne, 
 the foundation of the throne may not be very 
 solid. 
 
 However, immediately after the news of the 
 aafearrestationof the cartful of Calabrian Hats, 
 in Germany, " a Courier has arrived from St. 
 Petersburg, at Odessa, with instructions to 
 seize, for the present, any extraordinary war- 
 like preparations." 
 
 The space of our " introductory letter" oblige 
 me to conclude. 
 
 Some of my thoughts and feelings I hare de- 
 posited in metric forms since I left yon, and es- 
 pecially during my passage, " crossing the 
 Ocean." Allow me to add a few Stanzas of the 
 manuscript,* which I intend to publish, — in 
 case I should be so happy as to obtain the 
 permission of the Popish and Sectarian Cen- 
 sorship in this part of the world — to sell 
 snch publications through a fi"ee trade in 
 Books. 
 
 If all the New World would lament and crj : 
 
 Europe is lost ! all freedom there is gone I 
 
 With my belief in God, I would deny 
 
 Such doubt in mankind in a separate zoDd. 
 
 The Spirit of freedom did nft fly away 
 
 Before the treason of Xapuleon '. 
 
 In all the nations there exists a Power 
 
 Which will revenge bis crime in future boor I 
 
 Believe me. Freedom is no Privilege 
 
 Of any century, nor of any nation I 
 
 The power of human mind is not a pledge. 
 
 To be deposited at any station, 
 
 And to be watched by some crowned wretch, 
 
 In his forsworn, perjured degradation. 
 
 No ! Europe has nit pledg'd. for any price 
 
 Her duty and ber right : Europe unU rise I 
 
 The spirit which now is struggling in Europe, 
 Is not the party spirit of a sect. 
 May Churchmen. Prote-stants, against the Pope 
 Profess their strong sectarian disrespect. 
 Against His Holiness, with secret hope 
 To establish somewhere else a most perfect 
 True copy of such guardianship cf sonU ; 
 Establishment for idiots, and for fool^ I 
 
 No personal rage agitnst a Prince or Kio^— 
 No lucrative dynastic conspiracy 
 Will succeed in Europe for anytliing 
 In future time, mysteriously and hary ; 
 To buy luisembles. and by times, to bring 
 The soldiers in alarm, by brandy crazy : 
 Such Hydrophobia for new timb'red throne 
 Did end with Holstein and Napoleon I 
 
 'Tis something else, which in Europe is mining; 
 Not mining gold, but undermining thrones. 
 It is the Sjnrit of Truth, which is sustaining 
 /Vwrio?n of Mind, in spite of all .Napoleons] 
 Belief in Monarchy is more declining 
 Tlian ever before, and the foundation stones 
 Of reai Republics are well join'd with blood 
 By Martyniom, to Nation's Brotherhood ! 
 
 I remain, invariably, 
 
 Voire ami et frtrre : 
 
 HARRO. 
 New York, May 9, 1853. 
 
 » '■ S-vLnA-no-NS. crnssing Oif- Ot-fan,'' with an Appendix 
 of Elegies in the Scandinavian language. By Elarro-Har- 
 ring. Small 8vo.. Price 60 Cents. 8 Copies, S3. Sub- 
 scribers are invited to send their orders to 
 
 theDctoraO;^ 
 No. 1, Bowery, New Vork.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO THE SECOND EDITION" 
 
 It •was the author's task to giro, in some form, a representation of the contest of our century, 
 in ■which an exalted Idea of the Future strives after realization in manifold shapes, manifesting 
 the Spirit of Progress and the Ennoblement of Mankind. 
 
 The struggle of South America, to found a Union upon principles similar to those of tha 
 tJnited States of North America, shows a connected chain of great occurrences in tha 
 history of our century, -which will first be recognized in their true dignity, when victory 
 shall consecrate the bluod of the martyrs which has, for the last twenty years, flowed around 
 the altar of humanity. 
 
 The author did not content himself with a merely flowing romantic, or a dry historic repra- 
 lentation of external appearances, which, as " news of the day," pass away — leaving no trao* 
 nor impression : he sought to arrive at the sources &om which proceed the movements of nations, 
 as well as the crimes and passions of individuals. 
 
 He regards " mankind as consisting of nations ; nations as composed of individuals, and each 
 individual as a man, capable of higher perfection." He sought to penetrate the position of mait 
 in his right, and, also, in his duties; to judge man, in his relations to the exalted idea: 
 God and Mankind, which, as Eeligion, shines in flames and streams of light, through the his- 
 tory of all ages. 
 
 In searching into these relations, he arrived at a deeper contemplation of the human being M 
 the inhabitant of an intermediate planet — as a being in the vastness of the universe — oonoerninj 
 man himself, as a spiritual Unity in this body of dust upon earth. 
 
 Having recognized the undeniable, mighty influence of Women upon the education and 
 melioration of a rising generation, as well as by her magic power upon the heart and mind at 
 man, the author placed himself among the advocates of the female sex — perhaps the most 
 fliankless of all kinds of advocacy — but, (from a higher point of view,) treating, also, perhaps tha 
 Kost important cause of the social world, before the impartial Court of Nature and Beason. 
 
 How far the author has performed the task of representation, which pressed, as it were, npoa 
 him, from the past of his life, and from his participation in tlie great struggle of the age, 
 the intellectual public of the New and the Old World may decide, to whom he dedicates tlii» 
 second edition. 
 
 New Tobk, March 26th, 1847 
 
 PAUL HARRO-HARRING. 
 
 Of Ibemhof, in Denmark
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO THE THIRD EDITCON" 
 
 Since the first publication of ' Dolores,' historical events in South America, and in Europe, 
 have approTed the " prophetic spirit" in which many pages of it have been written. 
 
 The ecandalous Government of Rosas ended February, 1852. The tyrant escaped, cow- 
 ardly disguised as a sailor, in slippers, and arrived on board of a foreign man-of-war. A 
 foreign naval ofiScer having protected his flight, " hunting for a horse, to escape himself, waa 
 killed — shot like a dog — in the streets of Buenos Ayres, instead of the tyrant." Such are the 
 expressions of a private communication. 
 
 The privileged murderer went to England, where he is living comfortably ; by no means 
 disturbed by the ' High Police,' — like Republican Exiles. I expect " hospitable John Bull" will 
 give him a good treat, occasionally — like Haynau. 
 
 The family name of Alphonso,' (in our Novel,) was Pizarro. 
 
 PizARRo was not executed alone, but shot, together with fifty-three other republican 
 patriots, of the wealthy classes. I altered the scene of his death, to avoid the description of a 
 similar " wholesale butchery" of well-known modern fashion, at the head of a Novel.^— 
 
 • Dolores ' was reported to be dead when I composed the work. 
 
 The schooner Mazzini has really existed, commanded by GARiB.iLDi, and the described ex- 
 clamations and salutations, Viva Mazzini .' e viva la Giovine Italia, Sfc, tfc, when the 
 wreck arrived at Kio de Janeiro — are also historical. 
 
 The characters in the Novel, (upwards of fifty,) are all ' portraits drawn after nature.' The 
 originals, however, are sometimes carefully masked and placed in situations calculated to 
 eonceal their identity ; to reply on indiscreet researches about their realities. 
 
 I hope that the Exiles from Rio de la Plata, suffering on a foreign soil during the barbarous 
 
 government of Rosas, are safely returned, or will return, to their patriarchal homes ; and I 
 
 hereby present my hearty greetings to all those noble Republicans, believing in Diosy Haman- 
 
 idad, who remember the name of their true friend and former companion : 
 
 HARRO 
 New York, July 4th, 1853.
 
 DOLORES: 
 
 A NOYEL OF HUMANITY, 
 
 No hammer forged the iron so fast, 
 That the chain may not be broken at last : 
 For power can break the strongest chain, 
 And the highest power is the mijul of man !
 
 NOTICE. 
 
 Dolores appeared translated in the Sweihxh language, at Stockholm,{A{tonh\s>.det, Feuilleton) 
 1847. A Translation in German exists, by the Author himself, which, until at present, could 
 not be published in the States of the German Confederacy, Europe, where all his works are pro- 
 hibited since 1831, 
 
 Acknowledging the Right of Translating to eTcrybody, the Author offers hereby the above 
 manuscript to Publishers in free countries, who may enter into correspondence with him, direct- 
 ing their letters to the Do/ores Office, 1 Bowery, New York.
 
 EPISODES 
 
 CONNECTED WITH THE NOVEL 
 
 " It is no dream — it yet shall be fulfilled, P. 
 
 The Nations yet shall rise in all their might !" 20 
 
 Situation of Buenos Ayres 27 
 
 The History of Napoleon ; told by a Monk 83 
 
 Private Instructions of a London City Merchant to his Son 45 
 
 Rosas — " A curse be his name !" 60 
 
 The Sonsofthe Ocean. — Navigation 79 
 
 La Giovine Italia, (Young Italy) — Mazzini 84 
 
 Young Europe, Manifest 86 
 
 Fragment on Brazils 105 
 
 Eage and AVretchedness of Gold Digging 128 
 
 Psychology of Love. — Woman 135 
 
 Marriage without Love 136 
 
 The Spiritual World.— mnango 139 
 
 Scandinavia 146 
 
 Views of Marriage 151 
 
 Hinango's Confession 1 ^^4 
 
 Simon Konarski, a Martyr of " Young Europe." 180 
 
 ** Sidon and Tyre have once been great in traffic." 182 
 
 The Union of " Humanita,"' and a National Manifest 187 
 
 Philosophy 204 
 
 Social Questions 220 
 
 Ormur's Epistle to the Eepuhlicans 239 
 
 The Book of Ormur, on People and Government, 241 
 
 Extended System of Espionage 205 
 
 Magnetism. 
 
 I. Element of Magnetism 275 
 
 n. Superior Psychology 278 
 
 Fragments on Magnetism 281 
 
 The History of King Saul — Monarchy 209 
 
 The Speech from the Saddle 303 
 
 Woman's Magic : Magnetism. — The Element of Love — Marriage without Love, the Degi-a- 
 dation of Woman 851
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE MYSTERY 
 
 " Seven and hventy balls aimed at his breast, 
 blindfolded, kneeling," said Padre Fernando, 
 slowly, and with marked emphasis, addressing 
 Scnor Domingo, the keeper of the prison, who 
 attended him to the gates. 
 
 • " Seven and twenty balls aimed at his breast," 
 repeated Senor Domingo, with equal delibera- 
 tion, as he took a pinch of snuff from his silver 
 box, and handing it to the reverend Padre, ad- 
 ded, " can I serve you ?" 
 
 The monk, by no means disdaining the nasal 
 offering of his old acquaintance, drew up the 
 left corner of his mouth towards his ear, while 
 he insinuated the pinch of snuff into his right 
 nostril, and then again addressed the officer of 
 the Argentine Republic in a business manner, 
 keeping back the most important matters until 
 the last. 
 
 " You must send some one immediately to the 
 Monastery of St. Bento,* and summon Brother 
 Celeste to the condemned. I have daily and 
 nightly endeavored to bring him to confession, 
 to give the name of the poet who wrote the 
 infamous Unitarianf Elegies, but all in vain ! 
 He will confess nothing, denounce no one ; 
 he will of course be shot to-morrow morning 
 at sunrise, here in the yard ! You must send 
 some one immediately to the Monastery of St. 
 Bento to summon Brother Celeste. Do you 
 understand, Senor Domingo ? Brother Celeste. 
 Our office and profession oblige us to gratify and 
 fulfil the last wish of a condemned person, who 
 IS allowed to choose his confessor by tlie rules 
 ef the only saving Church, which is protected 
 *nd richly endowed by the grace and favor of 
 our lord and master the Director. | May the Lord 
 grant him a long life, and finally a happy end !" 
 
 " Padre Celeste, at the Monastery of St. Ben- 
 to," repeated Seiior Domingo, and called to him 
 Narcissus, a mulatto, who stood beside a sentry, 
 before the gate of the edifice, on the threshold 
 of which the conversation took place. He ex- 
 pressly ordered the mulatto to bring the confessor 
 
 •The names of many places, and of all the persons of 
 Ihis novel, have been changeJ, to veil the reality of its 
 facts. 
 
 f A political designation, as will be seen by the follow- 
 ing tale. 
 
 J Oubemador or President 
 
 with the utmost speed ; whereat the messenger 
 departed, repeating over to himself all the while 
 the names of the monk and the monastery — an 
 hereditary custom of the African negroes, who 
 rely very little on their memories. 
 
 Although political offenders were usually con- 
 fined in the prison edifice which formed a part 
 of the so called Palace of Justice, in the Plaza 
 de Victoria, at Buenos Ayres, many of these pri- 
 soners were to be found in more remote and an- 
 cient prisons, for the same reasons that a hotel 
 keeper hastily converts, for the occasion, a pri- 
 vate house into " furnished lodgings," when an 
 unusual number of guests requires such an ar- 
 rangement. 
 
 " Is there then no pardon — no deliverance. 
 Padre Fernando ?" inquired the prison keeper, 
 after a short pause, during which each took ano- 
 ther pinch of snuff; " must the young Seiior 
 Alphonso be shot early to-morrow morning ? 
 Seven and twenty balls aimed at his breast, yoti 
 say .' seven and twenty ! Then, probably at least 
 half a dozen will hit his breast, and it is to be 
 hoped that one at least will reach his heart." 
 
 " Seven and hventy," repeated the monk, sig- 
 nificantly, " as many bullets as the hardened 
 sinner counts years : such is the will and com- 
 mand of our lord and governor, which is to be 
 regarded as an especial favor, since we may 
 anticipate, (as you very justly remark,) that 
 at least one bullet will reach the guilt-laden 
 heart." 
 
 " Guilt-laden ! yes, indeed," interrupted old 
 Domingo ; " he certainly caused the publication 
 of the infamous Unitarian poems in Monte Video ; 
 this is proved, as we knevc long ago, by the re- 
 port of our high police. It is certainly high 
 treason against the most high person of our Di- 
 rector. Whether he is the author, whether he 
 himself wrote them, is matter of little conse- 
 quence; he caused them to be published, and 
 privately circulated them : it is horrible .' unpa- 
 ralleled !" affirmed the prison officer ; " this all 
 proceeds from the free press at Monte Video." 
 
 " It all comes from the spirit of rebellion in 
 Europe," interrupted Padre Fernando," and from 
 the culpable example of God-dishonoring free- 
 dom in North America, where the people even 
 live without a king ! without a king, Senor Do- 
 mingo ! what do you say to that ? and where the 
 Director or President has not absolute authority 
 like our monarch Rosas, who, though to be sure 
 he IS as yet neither annointed nor crowned king.
 
 6 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 will be, before his death, as sure as I am Padre 
 Fernando." _ 
 
 " Will be crowned king f" repeated Senor Do- 
 mingo, slowly and thoughtfully. " Do you think 
 so, Padve Fernando ? do you really think that 
 this will yet come to pass .' 
 
 " More is known among lis than what goes on 
 in the .Sacristy, Senor Domingo," whispered the 
 venerable follower of the holy Franciscus, " more 
 is known among us ! Already it is all planned 
 and supported by the legitimate powers of Europe 
 — the U'gitimate Christian powers ! — of whom, 
 thank Gi d, many still remain tliere. He will be 
 crowned king and sovereign of the La Platas and 
 Patagonia, and three new bishopricks will be 
 founded, and seven new monasteries built, and 
 our order will be held in especial consideration. 
 I tell you, Seiior Domingo, we shall yet live to 
 see it ! But we must go to work earnestly against 
 this spirit of riot and rebellion, which even here, 
 in the unhapi^y days of the past, has once over- 
 turned tlie throne ! We must take hold, and 
 assist in rearing the throne of legitimacy. How- 
 ever, as to our prisoner, the infiimous republican 
 and enemy to religion, our Seiior Alphonso, 
 down there in the dungeon, you may give him 
 whatever refreshments you may think best, if 
 he wishes any ; and brother Celeste may remain 
 with him to-night, until early to-morrow morn- 
 ing, until his hour strikes." 
 
 The pris'in, at the gate of which this conver- 
 sation took jjlace, had been built for a monastery, 
 in the good old days of the Jesuits, and now de- 
 graded to a barrack, while the solid inquisitorial 
 subterranean dungeons were used for their ori- 
 ginal purpose. 
 
 The conversation of the two public servants, 
 was interrupted by the appearance of Seiior Bor- 
 rachezo, a commissary of police, attended by 
 one of those officers who serve the police in se- 
 cret, and openly endeavor to pass for something 
 quite different. 
 
 " Come with us," said Senor Borrachezo, to 
 the two friends of snuff, " come in, I have some- 
 thing to say to you ; let the office be opened, Se- 
 nor Domingo," cried Senor Borrachezo, a squai'e 
 built figure, with a copper colored nose, and pen- 
 dent nether lip ; " walk in, reverend Padre Fer- 
 nando." 
 
 The chief jailer selected the key of the " bu- 
 reau of locked-up responsibilities," from a ring 
 brought to him by the under-porter ; he opened 
 a double door, turned the blind, to throw in the 
 feeble glimmer of departing twilight on the per- 
 sons entering, and arranged some cliairs. All 
 four took their places, and the deputy of police, 
 having taken a pinch from Seiior Domingo's box, 
 began — 
 
 " Seiior Alphonso will be executed early in 
 the morning, as you know ; it is to be hoped 
 you have prepared him. Padre Fernando; have 
 you ch-awn from liim any thing in relation to the 
 secret .'" 
 
 " Prepared, indeed !" replied the monk, " if 
 a sinner can be prepared, who will neither ac- 
 knowledge the authorities, nor receive the sacra- 
 ment of the church from a follower of the holy 
 St. Franciscus." 
 
 " How so ! will not receive it !" inquired the 
 police officer, surprised : " does he refuse the 
 sacrament of the holy sujjper .'" 
 
 " Not that," interrupted the other, " but he 
 
 refuses to receive it from me, and desires his 
 special confessor, a Benedictine, Brother Ce- 
 leste." 
 
 " We cannot deny him that," declared Seiior 
 Borrachezo. " Have you not sent some one al- 
 ready to the monastery of St. Bento, Senor Do- 
 mingo .'" 
 
 " At your service," replied the latter, " I have . 
 sent my Narcissus, he must soon be back again. 
 Can I serve you ?" said he, in the most courteous 
 manner to the police officer, again handing him 
 his snuffbox. 
 
 " Have you remarked nothing since, SeEor 
 Domingo ?" inquired the latter : " no suspicious 
 persons in the neighborhood of the building? 
 no visits without legal tickets of admission ? 
 Has no one appeared who would excite the 
 suspicion that he might be a confederate of the 
 condemned .'" 
 
 " No one, Senor Consejero, (counsellor,) but 
 the executioner, who came once to ask me if I 
 could learn whether the next was to furnish any 
 work for him ; he inquired whetlier Senor Al- 
 phonso was, as usual, to be secretly beheaded, 
 hanged, strangled, or, alas ! only shot, wiiere- 
 upon 1 could give him no information until now 
 that Padre Fernando has made me aware of the 
 execution to-morrow morning." Seiior Domin- 
 go concluded this report with a stout pinch of 
 snuff, and leaned back comfortably in the old 
 arm chair, which he had especially reserved for 
 himself. 
 
 " Singular !" began the police officer, in an 
 under tone, turning to Senor Falsodo, who had 
 entered with him, " no one has' been here ; no 
 one who can in the least serve us in finding a 
 clue whereby to discover the author of those in- 
 famous Elegies. It is ti-ue, he asserts that they 
 are his ; that he, and no one else is the author ; but 
 the literary college, which our most high direc- 
 tor commissioned to investigate the matter, de- 
 cided to the contrary. Seiior Alphonso is very 
 generally known as a young man of talent and 
 information, of profound study, and with the 
 most brilliant prospects of a career in the service 
 of the State ; but talents go single, and those of 
 a young diplomatist are of an entirely different 
 nature from poetic genius and in opposition to 
 it ; and, most unfortunately, such is the opinion 
 of the literary college, the infamous Elegies dis- 
 play a poetic genius which has hitherto never 
 manifested itself on the Rio de la Plata. A most 
 surprising phenomenon that ! Unheard of! mag- 
 nificent ! poetical ! cannibalish ! is that produc- 
 tion — it is a pity, a sliame, that such a genius 
 has debased itself to such purposes as rebellion, 
 poetry, and the apostleship of an insane idea of 
 the union of the States of South America, as a 
 confederacy, with the imaginary government of 
 a Central America, after the example of the Uni- 
 ted States of North America. It is shockingly 
 unprecedented that ! It would make a fatal al- 
 teration in the official department ; many would 
 lose their posts, and some perhaps even their 
 heads, if this bloody poetry became reality. It 
 is an awful thought that !" 
 
 " We must make every endeavor to trace out 
 the author," replied Senor Falsodo, a little lean 
 mannikin, with a yellowish pock-marked visage, 
 in worn-out black clothes, balancing on his knees 
 a steeple-crowned straw hat with a broad brim ; 
 " if we had only a single leaf of the uianuscript,
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 only a few lines of the handwriting, it would be 
 something on which to institute inquiry ! I have 
 written to my correspondent at Monte Video to 
 obtain information in the printing office ; if pos- 
 sible to procure a leaf, but in vain ! instead of 
 the writing which is so important to us, my cor- 
 respondent unfortunately received- what do you 
 suppose, Seiior Consejero, that he received?" 
 
 The person entitled Counsellor allowed his 
 hanging under lip to drop still lower, involunta- 
 rily opening liis mouth wider, as if he would 
 receive the news so muoli the sooner tlirough the 
 medium of his vice-hearing organs. " What 
 happened to your correspondent, SoSor Falsodo ? 
 what did he get in the printing ofBce at Monte 
 Video !" 
 
 " A beating ! SeSor Counsellor, a beating, and 
 of the most disgraceful kind, because, probably, 
 he conducted himself awkwardly, and very inju- 
 diciously gave cause for the supposition that he 
 was in correspondence with me, or with some 
 one of my occupation in Buenos Ayres !" 
 
 " What ! do you say that he got a beating?" 
 exclaimed Seiior Borrachezo. 
 
 " Yes ; and was thrown down stairs in the 
 most unfeeling manner, and was obliged to ship 
 for Rio de Janeiro immediately, as his stay in 
 Monte Video was prohibited in consequence." 
 
 "It is shocking!" sighed the police officer; 
 •* 'tis shocking to receive a beating in any case, 
 out above all, when nothing comes of it — not the 
 smallest sample to found our inquiries on in 
 this case." 
 
 " Such beatings are to be sure compensated 
 by the increase of wages, on the part of our libe- 
 ral government," remarked Senor Falsodo. " It 
 is a very humane system, that of indemnifica- 
 tion ; but, for the moment, a beating is very se- 
 vere, especially when it falls on a feeble body, as 
 would be the case with me, Senor Consejero." 
 
 " You must take care of yourself, Senor Fal- 
 sodo; you must take warning by your corres- 
 pondent at Monte Video ! I will see that you 
 receive an increase of salary without first being 
 beaten, especially if you should succeed in find- 
 ing out the author of the Elegies, and deliver 
 him alive to us. A substantial price awaits the 
 discovery," said Borrachezo, in a lower tone, " a 
 very substantial price ! and protection for family 
 and connexions besides : think of that, Senor 
 Falsodo ; think well of it." 
 
 " The price is certainly conformable to the 
 enterprise, answered the spy, while he took his 
 straw hat between his knees, and wij)ed the per- 
 spiration from his brow. " I know the price, it 
 is certainly suitable, although not extraordinary, 
 if you consider that one hazards his life in such 
 cases. It cannot be unknown to you that the 
 very uncomlbrtable use of all sorts of murderous 
 weapons, and, above all, daggers, and sometimes 
 poisoned daggers, is frequently practised against 
 — against the truest servants, who are united to 
 the government by such tender ties, that a single 
 ray of the liglit of disclosure instantly severs 
 them." 
 
 " No fear, Seiior Falsodo," said the police of- 
 ficer, laughing, as he again had recourse to Seiior 
 Domingo's snuffbox ; " think rather of your fu- 
 ture piospects, of the career which opens before 
 you." 
 
 " It is a system worthy of the highest respect ! 
 that of rewarding the faithful servants of the 
 
 state at the expense of rebels and other traitors," 
 replied Seiior Falsodo; "only the risk is too 
 great, and there is no security against dagger 
 strokes." 
 
 " Cowardice," muttered the commissary of 
 police ; " want of talent for the ofhce, faintheart- 
 edness without cause"— and turned to Padre Fer- 
 nando to inquire concerning his last interview 
 with the condemned. The result of all his ques- 
 tions, however, was wholly unsatisfactory. The 
 monk declared that all his endeavors had been in 
 vain to extort the least information from the 
 hardened sinner. He described the condemned 
 as being in a state of apathy, and remarked of 
 him further, tliat he answered some of tiie ques- 
 tions put to him only in part, and others not at 
 all, and that he at last begged to see the Bene- 
 dictine, Brother Celeste, once more, and to pass 
 the last hours of his life with him ; first object- 
 ing, however, to the continuance of an examina- 
 tion which he thought was not authorized by any 
 sacrament of the church. " He was condemned 
 to death and desired the fulfilment — the execu- 
 tion of the sentence." " Those were his first 
 and last words," sighed Padre Fernando, plung- 
 ing still deeper into the snufl'box of Senor Do- 
 mingo, as if his nerves required an instant 
 strengthening by means of some external excite- 
 ment. A long pause ensued, during which the 
 police officer looked straight before him. " A 
 most unheard of event," said he at last, break- 
 ing silence, " one that has never happened before 
 in my practice ; a crime committed — higli trea- 
 son committed — evidence of the fact in exis- 
 tence, and the author not to be discovered ; a 
 volunteer places himself in the way of death, that 
 he may carry with him to the grave the mystery 
 that envelopes the act. Pardon has been offered 
 him — the way has been opened for him to leave 
 the prison perfectly free — to retain possession of 
 his property, and live in all comfort, any where 
 out of this country, if he will only inform against 
 the author of these cursed Elegies, if he will 
 only deliver the real criminal into the hands of 
 justice — besides unconditional pardon for the 
 high treason of which he has allowed himself to 
 become guilty, as an accomplice, by circulating 
 such punishable poetry. All this has been of- 
 fered him, and he refuses to name the author." 
 
 " Or the authoress ?" added Seiior Falsodo, 
 with emphasis. 
 
 " Hem ! indeed — quite possible," rejoined 
 Senor Horracliezo, slowly nodding his head ; 
 " indeed ! it may be a lady ! it is a possible ease !" 
 
 " And becomes to me all the while more 
 likely," insisted the spy, " especially as it is 
 well known that the patriotism of the women of 
 our country sometimes exceeds the zeal of the 
 men! I engage we would more easily get rid of 
 rebels if there were no women ." 
 
 " It has become notorious, and is not the case 
 in our country alone; the influence of women in 
 church and state is undeniable," said Seiior Bor- 
 rachezo, energetically; "the petticoat governs 
 the monarchy, and the glance of beauty forms 
 heroes for the battle ; popes are elected — 
 bishops created, by women. Yes ! yes ! gentle- 
 men, woman rules the world, and when married, 
 her husband besides. A married man has his 
 reasons for not being dangerous to the state ! If 
 a woman has written the slanderous Elegies, we 
 ought not to seek her in the married state, at
 
 8 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 least not in domestic happiness. We must keep 
 a register, Seiior Falsodo," continued he, after a 
 pause, " a register of our young hero's female 
 acquaintances and friends of all classes ; there 
 must be a private register made, with daily 
 notes as to their familiar resorts and rendezvous, 
 evening visits on balcony and terrace." 
 
 At this moment the mulatto. Narcissus, the. 
 factotum of all communication between the per- 
 sons in the prison and the world outside, hastily 
 entered the office, with the information that 
 Brother Celeste was at his heels, which was ve- 
 rified by the personal appearance of the latter. 
 A young Benedictine monk, the habit of whose 
 order was made of singulai-ly fine stuff", greeted 
 those present with the priestly salutation, and 
 inquired for what purpose he had been sum- 
 moned. His form was • noble, of tlie middle 
 size, in air and manner bearing the stamp of a 
 certain dignity, which seemed rather to have re- 
 mained in him from his former connexion with 
 the world, than wliat the severe monastic disci- 
 pline could ever impress upon a youth, wlio, like 
 so many cloister brothers, had entered into or- 
 ders " from the dregs of the people." 
 
 The police officer informed him of the cause 
 of his being summoned, which he apparently 
 heard with the cold insensibility of a priest ac- 
 customed to view, in the condemned, the crimi- 
 nal rather tlian the man. Church and state 
 alike, usually concern themselves too late with 
 the human heart. When the sentence is about 
 to be fulfilled, which tears a human being from 
 life, when the ties have long been broken which 
 bound him to mankind, the church first informs 
 the sinner that, at least beyond the grave, love 
 and justice are to be found. 
 
 The rigid features of the monk's deathly pale 
 countenance gave no sign even of sympathy, no 
 look indicated the least personal interest in the 
 fate of the unfortunate man, to prepare whom for 
 his momentous and approaching departure he 
 had been summoned to his presence. Just as 
 little did his features indicate either assent or 
 willingness, when the police officer gave him to 
 understand that the government expected impor- 
 tant disclosures through the last confessional in- 
 terview of the condemned with the servant of the 
 church. To avoid this degrading requirement. 
 Brother Celeste inquired where the condemned 
 was to be found, and desired to be conducted to 
 him. (Seiior Falsodo had rather obtrusively 
 placed himself by the side of the monk, and 
 seemed inclined to accompany him, when the 
 Alcalde* called a turnkey and gave him the need- 
 ful orders. Brother Celeste declared, in few 
 words, that his interview with the condemned 
 must be witliout witnesses, according to the 
 rules of the church in such cases. The spy ap- 
 peared greatly embarrassed at having his com- 
 pany thus declined ; he cast a glance at the red 
 nose of the police officer, who put a good face on 
 a bad business, and with a shrug of the shoulder 
 assented to the monk's decided demand, and then 
 added, that he was well awMe of his extreme de- 
 sire to obtain the requisite information concern- 
 ing the person who had been guilty of such high 
 treason. 
 
 " The criminal is condemned by the sentence 
 of our l>irector," interrupted the monk ; " the 
 
 * Alcalde del carcel, Superinteadeat of the Frisoa, 
 
 crime on his part was proved before sentence 
 was pronounced. It must be fulfilled, and I 
 know my office and my duty towards the crimi- 
 nal : conduct me to his dungeon." 
 
 The police officer thought it would be better 
 to conduct the prisoner to a room where he 
 might pass the last hours of his life more com- 
 fortably. The monk opposed this amarently 
 humane proposal, remarking, at the same time, 
 that the privilege of choosing the place belonged 
 of right to the criminal, according to the custom- 
 ary liberty of the so called " dungeon hours." 
 But previously he desired to speak with him 
 alone in the dungeon, undisturbed, and with 
 closed doors. 
 
 The resolute and measured deportment of the 
 young monk, the dignity which manifested itself 
 in word and look, and in his whole person, in- 
 voluntarily checked the oppposition of those pre- 
 sent, who yielded a silent assent to his wishes, 
 and resumed their consultations, while the turn- 
 key and the Benedictine disappeared behind 
 doors and grates. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE CONDEMNED. 
 
 If we examine the buildings of the Jesuits ia 
 all parts of the world, we find an analogy be 
 tween their foundations, their very ground- 
 works, and the basis of their world-embracing 
 system ; both manifest durability and firmness. 
 To the perseverance, allied with the depth of 
 consolidation employed by the Jesuits to erect 
 their politico-religious edifice, (as a system,) is 
 alone to be ascribed the extension and effect of 
 their soul-destroying efforts. Unlimited com- 
 mand of the socisd and political, as well as of the 
 religious forms of human society, is the true aim 
 of their secret and open labors. No order exer- 
 cises such a decided authority over the human 
 will, such a strenuous self-denial, (as the means 
 of attaining a proposed end,) as does the " Order 
 of the Society of Jesus." These considerations 
 embrace a truth which strikes us the more pain- 
 fully, when it appears evident to us that the 
 object of the society is to degrade mankind under 
 the scourge of absolutism. The power of the 
 order attained such a height in past centuries 
 that it even sought to set aside the absolutism of 
 monarchy, to promote its particular aim to its 
 own sole and exclusive rule, and, unhappily, it 
 here and there succeeded. As the gigantic en- 
 terprises of the Jesuits, indicated by their colos- 
 sal edifices, now among the multitude of other 
 monuments of the past, disappeared in Europe, 
 the world-embracing sovereignty of this order 
 advanced with the more rapid strides in South 
 America. 
 
 A tragic contrast is ofltred for our considera- 
 tion; the thought suggests itself, what a s"ciety, 
 on a similar basis of firmness and solidity .with 
 the same energy and perseverance, might have 
 undertaken and accomplished for the wel-are of 
 mankind, if their united eflbrts, after the ixam- 
 ple of the Jesuits, had acknowledged the princi- 
 ple of humanity, instead of the principle of self-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 9 
 
 aggrandizement, (of absolute egotism,) and had 
 pursued (or rather would pursue) this object 
 with the same unshakeable tenacity of purpose, 
 as did the Jesuits their aim for universal spiritual 
 dominion, for the paralyzing of mind. 
 
 In building their mona-steries, as in all the 
 edifices of the Jesuits, particular regard was had 
 to their vaulted foundations ; the under-gi'ound 
 apartments, torture chambers, dungeons, and 
 cellars, were arranged on the most masterly plan : 
 duitf^ions to restrain the spirit of progress, cel- 
 lars to preserve the spirit of the wine for the 
 triumphal banquets of their confederates. 
 
 In one of these dungeons, which might serve 
 as a model for similar constructions of modern 
 days in Russia and its dependencies, the other 
 states of the European continent, Senor Al- 
 phonso, the condemned, was confined. His form 
 was thin and tall, on which an active nervous 
 organization appeared to have overcome the ma- 
 terial tendency to flesh and corpulency ; his pale, 
 sallow countenance evinced the proud dignity of 
 the Spanish race ; but he, in common with all the 
 inhabitants of La Plata, regarded his Spanish 
 descent with indifference, if not aversion, while 
 they acknowledged their situation as South 
 Americans. In the progress of the age towards 
 freedom and enlightenment, they seemed unwil- 
 ling to remember their European extraction ; 
 inasmuch as it reached back to the blood-stained 
 histories of former days, with whose horrors the 
 annals of the new world were also filled. 
 
 Alphonso's meagre countenance, surrounded 
 by coal-black hair, which particularly adorns the 
 Castilian, was animated by the glance of a deep- 
 set dark eye, rich in that magnetic fluid which 
 appertains to the human eye as the organ of the 
 soul. He was dressed in the costume of his 
 social condition, enveloped in a soldier's frock, 
 his hands and feet loaded with chains and fetters. 
 
 The turnkey opened the double iron doors of 
 the dungeon, whose subdued light hardly made 
 visible the individuals whose entrance inter- 
 rupted the loneliness of the prisoner. The monk 
 found himself inside of the narrow vault; the 
 doors were carefully locked and bolted on the 
 outside. Uncertain whether the longed for 
 friend of his heart approached, or whether an- 
 other monk in a habit of the same order stepjjed 
 over tlie threshold, the unhappy man awaited, 
 speechless and motionless, the first greeting of 
 him who entered. 
 
 " Alphonso !" cried a voice, whose sound 
 awakened a thousand memories of childhood and 
 youth ia the breast of the South American. 
 "Alphonso! Alphonso!" exclaimed the monk 
 again in the outburst of a soul rending sorrow. 
 
 " Lorenzo, is it you ?" inquired the prisoner, 
 in a low faltering voice, and a long silent em- 
 brace followed. 
 
 There are moments in life when we find that 
 human language is no fitting organ for the life of 
 the soul; there is a glance of the eye which 
 says more than words can compass, and which, 
 even in night and darkness, reveals reciprocal 
 emotion. And when words lose their might, 
 the overpowering feelings of the deeply agitated 
 human breast gush forth in tears. The extreme 
 emotion of these tender friends, united by the 
 holiest ties, over whose destinies fate lowered 
 so portentously, overflowed in those pearls of 
 the speechless soul-life, which is born from suf 
 
 fering, and whose value he only discovers down 
 whose cheeks and on whose breast they fall. 
 
 ** Lorenzo !" sobbed Alphonso, at length re- 
 turning with a strong eflbrt to external life, 
 " have you seen her? spoken to her? been with 
 her ?" 
 
 " I have done all, without consulting you, that 
 I should have expected from you, had you been 
 in my place, I in yours," replied Lorenzo, as the 
 monk called Celeste. " Did you receive and 
 destroy the billet of your nephew Horatio .'" 
 
 " The passage from Calderon," returned Al- 
 phonso, " which any one could have read with- 
 out understanding it, and of which I alone could 
 comprehend the sense and meaning. I received 
 the leaf wrapped round some tobacco, as they 
 have allowed me to receive anything from my 
 friends." 
 
 " Good," continued Lorenzo, " but our mo- 
 ments are numbered ; we must understand each 
 other quickly. Dolores is in safety, and will 
 depart hence before day-break, if a single deci- 
 sive event can be averted ; if she can be dissuaded 
 from the resolution to suffer death in your stead, 
 to come here in disguise and remain behind, 
 while you leave the dungeon in her garb, and in 
 her stead go on board a vessel where Horatio 
 already awaits her." 
 
 "Dolores!' sighed Alphonso, in a broken 
 voice, " impossible ! no, never, never ! but a 
 ray of light penetrates my soul ! Were it possi- 
 ble that she might appear here undetected as you 
 would have arranged it — Lorenzo, you can con- 
 ceive what prompts me — call it not selfishness, 
 the wish that springs up within me, to take leave 
 of Dolores — on condition, however, that the 
 struggle in her be over first, that she will ap- 
 proach in the last hours of my life, with that 
 self-possession so peculiar to her character. 
 Tell me, how have you arranged the plan so as 
 overcome the impossibility of her appearance 
 here in the dungeon ? I will then decide if I 
 can allow of its fulfilment, or whether the pre- 
 ponderating risk makes it my duty to deny myself 
 this gratification." 
 
 " Dolores," replied Lorenzo, with forced com- 
 posure, " is here in the neighborhood, at the 
 house of her friend, the English lady, furnished 
 with the habit of our order, which I brought un- 
 der my own, from my wai-drobe, and delivered to 
 her in person, consequently avoiding all privity 
 of others. Being the librarian of our monastery, 
 1 can visit the Englishman's house without cere- 
 mony, as he manages my correspondence with 
 Ireland, and receives books and papers from 
 thence, for us. The passage from Calderon gave 
 you the intimation that you might receive the 
 Lord's supper at my hands ; I require a brother 
 of our order for the administration of the sacra- 
 ment ; Dolores is to appear as a Benedictine ; 
 the time of night favors her entrance into the 
 building, which no one will notice, as it is an 
 ordinary everyday occurrence. Although we 
 can only remain here a moment, yet, you can — 
 then — take leave of her — see her once more ; but 
 there must be here, (as you are sensible your 
 self,) no struggle, no conflict of the holiest feel- 
 ings, which would betray you and — bring both of 
 you to death." 
 
 " So be it, then," said Alphonso, in low de- 
 cided tones, " so be it ! — on condition that Do- 
 lores yields up her urgent wish to sacrifice herself
 
 10 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 for me, to the higher duty of devoting her talents 
 and mental aspirations to the future. Let her 
 remembei- that the idea of the confederacy of the 
 United States of South America is illustrated and 
 displayed in her exalted powers, in the mie;ht of 
 her enthusiasm, in the majesty of her words. 
 As the pei-sonified idea of the future, life on 
 earth becomes to her a sacred duty. I was to 
 pass away, and am the subordinate agent of that 
 Providence which accomplishes my destiny — 
 through Dolores. The to(A which he formed for 
 the service of that sacred object has become use- 
 less — it is broken by tyranny. The instrument 
 vanishes from this earthly sphere, but as the 
 genius of South America, she lives, and in her, 
 the exalted, godlike idea of the futur*^ — of the 
 foundation of the union of the South in the spirit 
 of Humanity." 
 
 " I understand you," said Lorenzo, " and Do- 
 lores will as little mistake your resolve to reject 
 her sacriiice of love." 
 
 " Once more, I beseech you," sighed Alphonso, 
 convulsively seizing the hand of his friend, 
 *' once more I beseech you, liold fast to the con- 
 dition. I know Dolores, I know her love to me, 
 1 feel that I require from her an unheard of, 
 superhuman eflbrt; yes, 1 require from her a 
 resolution of which I myself should hardly be 
 capable — to tear myself in such a moment from 
 her arms — to resign her to death, as I now re- 
 quire of her in my own behalf." 
 
 Lorenzo seized the word as the prisoner con- 
 cluded. " I hope to God that the sense of duty 
 will vanquish in her the urgent desire of yield- 
 ing herself a sacrifice ; she should know that 
 your very self-respect as a man would not permit 
 such an ottering of love on her part; and she 
 should not deny you the last consolation of a 
 farewell." 
 
 " The twilight has passed away into night 
 since I came here," continued Lorenzo, after a 
 pause ; *' thunder clouds increase the darkness — 
 I will leave you now, and inform the door- 
 keepers that I shall return about midnight, 
 attended by my brother with the ciborium I 
 shall use a chalice belonging to myself, in order 
 to avoid our sacristy. To evade all suspicion, I 
 will institute the sacrament in the usual manner 
 in the chapel in this edifice, but, on pretence of 
 economy, no candles shall be lighted except the 
 lamp of eternal light, which casts its mild rays 
 upon the altar, but not sufficient to cause us to 
 be observed. For a possible case, however, old 
 Achilles, well disguised and strongly armed, 
 shall attend us as a servant of the monastery, 
 aitd afterwards conduct Dolores to the quinta of 
 Mr. Walker, and then on board the vessel ; he 
 will never leave her — never lose sight of her; 
 he will be her attendant on boai-d, and wherever 
 her fate may lead her." 
 
 Alphonso still pressed the hand of Lorenzo, 
 trembling in all his limbs, less from personal 
 fear, to which he was a stranger, than from ap- 
 prehension and anxiety in behalf of the risk 
 which Dolores incurred, so long as she remained 
 in the territory of Buenos Ayres, or any where 
 on this side of the mouth of the La Plata river. 
 
 At length compelled, through the urgency of 
 the occasion, to deny himself the consolatory 
 presence of Lorenzo, he dismissed his bosom 
 friend to arrange a meeting, of whicli, an hour 
 before, his boldest fancy would not have dreamed. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE KEG&O. 
 
 Celeste gave a sign by violent knocking on 
 the inner door, whereupon the outer door, and 
 then the second, was opened, whose massive iron 
 was so thick as to render it impossible for the 
 most attentive listener to distinguish a syllable 
 of the conversation which took place in the dun- 
 geon. 
 
 The Benedictine found old Domingo alone in 
 his sitting room, near the principal entrance of 
 the building opposite to the porter's cell ; his 
 guests, wearied with a fruitless consultation, had 
 gone their way, and left him and his snuffbox, 
 each, in his own mode, resolving immediately to 
 trace out the clue to the mysteriously concealed 
 existence of the exalted poet. 
 
 Senor Domingo did not fail to ofTer to Brother 
 Celeste a pinch of snufT, without which, as it 
 appeared, he could tliink of no greeting or meet- 
 ing, and politely invited him into the room, and 
 requested him to be seated. Celeste, (Lorenzo,) 
 who maintained the customary tone of high so- 
 ciety in his worldly intercourse, would not damp 
 the humbly subservient hospitality of the old 
 officer by a repulsive priestly arrogance. He 
 sought, on the contrary, by his evident conde- 
 scension, to requite the pointed, and undoubtedly 
 respectful attentions of the old man, with a de- 
 portment which was well calculated to heighten 
 his confidence to a degree which he felt might 
 be essentially requisite for the approaching event- 
 ful occasion. 
 
 He immediately took the offered seat, gave the 
 necessary orders for the sacrament in the chapel, 
 remarking at the same time, that he found the 
 condemned in a most melancholy state, in which, 
 instead of his mother tongue, he spoke in a con- 
 fused mixture of French, Italian, and Latin. 
 Celeste availed himself of this list, to prepare 
 for an unrestrained interview in the French lan- 
 guage, between Alphonso and Dolores, at which 
 Serior Domingo might happen to be present. 
 Senor Domingo informed him officially, that the 
 officer of the guard had already appointed the 
 seven and twenty men who were to execute the 
 sentence. 
 
 As a singular mark of respect to the former 
 social position of tlie condemned, the officer had 
 sought for the most distinguished and certain 
 shots in his company, and was to take command 
 of them himself; which, in all other cases, was 
 entrusted to an awkward corporal or sergeant. 
 
 Celeste commended himself to the kindness 
 of Seiior Domingo, bowed before the crucifix, 
 which was suspended over a sort of house altar 
 in the apartment, and withdrew slowly and with 
 measured steps, in all the dignity of his office. 
 
 Tlie daily bustle of a thickly peopled commer- 
 cial town sank by degrees, like the waves of the 
 swelling ocean, to the ebb of relbxalion and quiet. 
 Promenaders of various classes passed to and fro 
 on the sidewalks of the principal streets, engaged 
 in conversation on indifferent subjects, when not 
 discussing the revolution in Rio Grande, and 
 tlie ever-enduring daily article of war and peace 
 between Buenos Ayres and Monte Video, which 
 was discussed over the cradle of the present 
 generation, and has, so to say, g;rown up with 
 them, and according to appearances, will extend
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 II 
 
 over the bier of the living, as a reiterated article 
 for discussion at the cradle-side of a future gene- 
 ration. 
 
 The pulperias* of the most frequented streets 
 of the first and second classes were, like the 
 French C^ifes, filled with customers, who, taking 
 their usual places, and sipping this or that drink, 
 smoked cigarettes by tiie gross, and tried to build 
 " castles in the air," when the subject of con- 
 versation had no foundation in reijity. 
 
 Brother Celeste betook himself to his monas- 
 tery by the most direct way, where Achilles 
 awaited him near the garden wall. 
 
 The family of Dolores was one of the most 
 considerable in the country, wluise wealthy pos- 
 sessions brought with them a crowd of domestic 
 servants, of divers colors. The pedigree of old 
 Achilles could be traced back a century, from 
 the tribe of Minas, in Africa, without any inter- 
 mixture of another race. One of liis ancestors, 
 brought from iVfrica as a slave, and purchased 
 by the great-grandfather of Dolores as his lawful 
 possession, had solemnly married a negress of 
 thte same race, and in such wise did his descend- 
 ants in like manner continue in the Spanish fa- 
 mily on the banks of the river La Plata — as a 
 double household, whose children played and 
 grew up together. The removal of bondage from 
 the blacks, a consequence of the independence 
 of the United Provijices of La Plata, had in no- 
 wise alienated the negro family from the relatives 
 of Dolores. Humane treatment on the one side, 
 gratitude and fidelity on the side of the inferiors, 
 had wrought a bond of attachment, which in time 
 became a habit ; a relation thence proceeded, 
 which reminds us of the patriarchal age of anti- 
 quity, and manifests itself at times in all coun- 
 tries where the feelings of humanity are not alto- 
 gether oppressed by slavery. 
 
 Tlie father of Achilles had served the family 
 as coachman, and would not forego the honor of 
 conveying the cori)ses of their beloved parents to 
 the churchyard, in person, when the reconciling 
 angel of death called them both, within a short 
 interval, away from this eiu-thly night of sutler- 
 ing and sorrow. 
 
 Dolores inhabited, with her uncle, (her mo- 
 ther's brother,) a quinta,t where Achilles, dressed 
 according to the quasi station of major-domo, 
 was, so to speak, considered in the family as a 
 companion, and consulted in all the subordinate 
 afliiirs of the house. His daughter, Corinna, 
 grown up with Dolores from tlie cradle, held 
 the post of her chambermaid, and notwithstand- 
 ing the ban of color, was treated by her lady with 
 all confidence, which, interwoven, as it were, 
 with the first sentiments of their childish hearts, 
 effected the moral improvement of both. The 
 race of Minas negroes in South America is uni- 
 versally preferred and protected, insomuch as 
 prominent peculiarities distinguish their nation- 
 ality, which last, nearly all the negroes endeavor 
 to uphold. This is not the place to insert our 
 views and observations on the morality and ca- 
 pacities of the negroes of South America. There 
 are, to be sure, particular races, which, with re- 
 lation to disposition and talents, seem to be en- 
 dowed by Nature with a step-mother's portion, 
 in return for which, however, other races not 
 
 • Puclperia, a shop — pulpero, shop-keeper. 
 \ Cotmtry bouse. 
 
 only stand equal in moral respects with the 
 whites in other countries, but excel the lower 
 classes of many white populations. Under the 
 last head, may be classed the Kabendas, Man- 
 dingos, M-ozarnbiques, Minas, and many other 
 races. The race of Minas, so called after their 
 native province in Ai'rica, (whicli is rich in me- 
 tal,) are men of noble appearance — most of them 
 tall, athletic figures — the form of their counte- 
 nances bordering on the Caucasian. Their ex- 
 pression, like their character and whole deport- 
 ment, is earnest, and combined with a certain 
 thoughtful reserve, and natural dignity, which 
 manifests itself even in their air and gestures ; 
 in this, and other respects, they bear a general 
 resemblance to the Kabendas. Their chins are 
 usually covered with a thick beard, which is de- 
 ficient in many negro tribes. The I'undamental 
 peculiarities of the Minas race appear to be in- 
 corruptible honesty, diligence in every employ- 
 ment, technical talent for all sorfcij of business, 
 unshakeable attachment to each other as friends, 
 fondness for domestic life in the circle of their 
 race, and unswerving submission, fidelity, and 
 devotion, in their relations as slaves or servants 
 to the whites ; while they are regarded as men, 
 and humanely treated. The negroes possess the 
 remarkable peculiarity of distinguishing with 
 surprising acuteness, the varieties of nationality 
 in Europeans, as well as the prominent traits of 
 human character. According to this so called 
 instinctive knowledge of mankind, the negro di- 
 rects his confidence or mistrust, his attachments 
 or dislikes, probably without being conscious 
 himself of the intuition which guides him. 
 
 Achilles was a perfect exemplar of a Mina3 
 negro, in all the distinctive marks of that race. 
 His frame, in which tliere was more bone than 
 muscle, authenticated his origin, by the proud 
 bearing and innate perception noticed above. 
 On account of the early development of the ne- 
 gro in tropical climates, he appeared old, and 
 tlie hair of his head and his beard exhibited a 
 slight sprinlding of grey, wliile his robust acti- 
 vity betokened manly strength, which defied the 
 influence of the climate in which destiny had 
 transplanted his fathers. 
 
 Achilles had sought a stone near the iron gate 
 of the garden of the monastery, pointed out to 
 him by the friend of his lady, when he left him, 
 at which he should await him until his return 
 to his cell. Seldom as the visit of a monk to any 
 private house might appear strange, in this case, 
 peculiar circumstances combined to render the 
 direct interview of Celeste with a young lady in 
 the hours of night, especially dangerous, as it 
 tended to make a coincidence. 
 
 The vigilance of the police greatly embar- 
 rassed the movements of the monk, and on the 
 other hand, his relations witli his order required 
 the utmost caution, if he would not excite sus- 
 picions which might give occasion for an inves- 
 tigation on the part of the autiiorities. 
 
 Without any previous knowledge of what na- 
 ture the interview with Alphonso might be, and 
 to what decision it might lead, Celeste had taken 
 measures to prepare, through the trustworthy 
 Achilles, a medium of communication between 
 Dolores and his unfortunate friend. 
 
 The quiet of night surrounded the monastery. 
 An oppressive stillness, the precursor of a thun- 
 der storm, fettered the topmost boughs of the
 
 ^3 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 high trees, which partly overhung the walls. 
 The footsteps of single passers by, intercepted 
 from time to time the noiseless silence. But 
 they were not the tread of the Benedictine in his 
 light sandals, and Achilles listened intently, as 
 motionless as the broad leaf of the gigantic om- 
 bados,* whose night-like shadow enveloped that 
 portion of the garden where he waited with in- 
 creasing impatience. 
 
 This old negro was a sort of sealed family 
 chronicle of the events of his house, transmitted 
 to him by tradition from his father and grand- 
 father, and increased by his personal interest in 
 all which had befallen the family from his child- 
 hood to the present time ; his heart was like the 
 covering of a paqiiet of important family papers, 
 preserved by a black Ethiopian seal of secrecy. 
 The meditative silence, peculiar to his national 
 character, was much increased by the unlimited 
 confidence of his masters. The more deeply he 
 was received into the relations and affairs of the 
 family, the more was his pride aroused to enjoy 
 unlimited confidence, and the higher did his zeal 
 Eirise, to show himself worthy of his position. 
 
 Besides himself and his daughter Corinna, 
 Alphonso was the only person who knew the 
 situation in which Dolores was placed. The in- 
 telligence that Alphonso would become at day- 
 break the victim of shameless tj'ranny, would 
 have been sufficient of itself to deprive him of all 
 resolution : but his pain was greatly enhanced by 
 the thought that the " wonderful spirit" of Do- 
 lores, as he called it, (without being able to 
 comprehend it,) had indirectly drawn destruc- 
 tion upon the head of her beloved. He espe- 
 cially admired and honored in this mysterious 
 being her " wonderful spirit," which he so de- 
 signated, because ho could tlnd no more appro- 
 priate term. Sinking more and more deeply in 
 reflection, he involved himself still more m the 
 web of considei'ations, which made the thought 
 of the deliverance of both persons beyond the 
 limits of possibility. He had but a miserable life 
 to lose, and was resolved to sacrifice it joyfully, 
 if he could, by so doing, save the friend of his 
 mistress, and herself. He felt himself the more 
 unhappy, the more he was penetrated by the 
 consciousness that his will was palsied by the 
 insurmountable force of circumstances. .Sunk in 
 such sad musings, he had forgotten the world 
 without, when he felt himself suddenly aroused 
 from his revery by a hand on his shoulder, and a 
 manly voice sounding in his ear. " How goes 
 it, friend Achilles?" was the salutation, accom- 
 panied by a heavy blow on his right arm. Achil- 
 les, whom the appearance of any human being, 
 except the expected Celeste, would have terri- 
 fied, felt all the more alarmed at the appearance 
 of a person who, even though in remote idea, 
 was connected with the former days and fate of 
 his lady Dolores. As if roused from real slum- 
 ber, he rubbed his eyes, and looked an.xiously 
 around him, while he dreaded the return of Ce- 
 leste, to which, until now, he had looked forward 
 with increasing imj»atience. 
 
 " Good evening, .Senor Perezoso — how do you 
 do ?" he began, after a pause, which followed 
 the salutation, and rose up, and instinctively 
 prepared for all possible accidents which might 
 
 * A sort of elm. f Sefiora instead of Seaorita. 
 
 occur from this unwelcome interruption to hv$ 
 loneliness. The person who stooa before hira 
 was one of those consonants in the great book of 
 this bustling world, which, on this or that page 
 of a day's history, stand as consonants, without 
 any special meaning, and at most obtain a cha- 
 acter as letters, in connexion with some vowel; 
 or, like types in general, allow themselves to be 
 used in any composition, to-day serving in an 
 essay which sets forth the principles of freedom, 
 to-morrow appearing in the praise of some tyrant, 
 until they are thrown for re-casting into the 
 churchyard mass of corruption, by the hand of 
 death, which dissolves all human compositions. 
 
 Perezoso was a little man, with a round face, 
 and a sharp, and, what people consider, piercing 
 eye. His dress difTcred as little from the daily 
 costume of an European of any nation, as one 
 form of printing type from all others in general, 
 in themselves an insignificant alphabet of a case 
 of letters. Should he, at any time, be placed in 
 any class which the collection of masses of men 
 create, Senor Perezoso would prefer to pass un- 
 der the title of a " literary gentleman," while 
 he, like so many of his species, assumed the title 
 without being particularly acquainted with any 
 literature; although, on the other hand, he wa3 
 not deficient in many so called practical acquire- 
 ments, and possessed a certain penetration. He 
 would also wish to be considered as a gentleman 
 among gentlemen. 
 
 Perezoso lived in the above category, as 
 teacher of languages and translator, and as such 
 had an extensive acquaintance in the educated 
 circles of society, in whose outward forms he 
 was thoroughly versed, so that he might as 
 readily pass for a gentleman, as many other gen- 
 tlemen without figure or appearance. He had 
 for years visited at the house of the family in 
 which the old Achilles figured as a member, be- 
 stowing on the two young ladies, Theresa and 
 Dolores, instructions in French and Italian. 
 
 " How is Seiiorat Dolores !" he inquired of 
 poor Achilles, who was making every effort to 
 conceal his solicitude, which was excited by the 
 thought that Celeste miglit suddenly arrive, and 
 that his appearance might furnish occasion for 
 deep reflection to the teacher. Before he made 
 any reply, he bethought himself whether it 
 would not be better to lead off' the unwelcome 
 old acquaintance from the gate of the monastery 
 — a measure which he instantly rejected, as this 
 was his appointed post, and as even the shortest 
 removal from it might prevent his meeting with 
 Celeste. 
 
 " Senora Dolores," he at length replied, mea- 
 suring the teacher from head to font, " I thank 
 you, Senor Perezoso, is well, very well, so far as 
 1 know. Hut I have not seen her this week, 
 however ; she is not here ; she is at our old 
 quinta, thirteen leagues from here ; she will soon 
 be married, the good Senora Dolores." 
 
 " Married ?" inquired Perezoso, with peculiar 
 curiosity — every piece of news being of the 
 highest importance to him, as material for con- 
 versation in the widely extended circle of his 
 acquaintance — " to whom is she to be mar- 
 ried .'" 
 
 " .She marries a foreigner, an European, a 
 merchant, a young millionaire ; his name is Se- 
 nor Pepefy and company." 
 
 "What?" cried Perezcso, "is she going to
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 13 
 
 marry Senor Pepefy and company .' the young 
 Senor Pepefy ! with the long nose ?" 
 
 " So they 3av," replied Achilles ; " whether 
 the youna; man's nose is any longer than yours I 
 cannot tell ; but he is going to-morrow to Val- 
 paraiso, and will marry the Seiiora when he re- 
 turns." 
 
 " For Valparaiso, to-morrow ! is that cer- 
 tain ?" pursued Perezoso, with the most eager 
 curiosity; lor his thoughts reverted_^to a small 
 sum of money which the said Seiior Pepefy 
 owed him for instructions, and also for transla- 
 tions. 
 
 Achilles had, according to the German pro- 
 verb, "set a ])air ofblind hares running," in order 
 to produce a ti-ain of thought in tlie mind of the 
 unwelcome guest, that should remove him from 
 the truth. While he meditated springing a third 
 hare, to produce an effect of all others the most 
 desirable, namely, that of getting him away, 
 either spiritually or bodily, from the walls of 
 the monastery, Seiior Perezoso had already 
 prepared to depart. He laid for a minute the 
 lore finger of his right hand on the rittlit side of 
 his nose, considering whether he should write 
 Senor Pepefy a billet, or rather, with all speed, 
 present him a visiting card, thus reminding him 
 in a delicate manner of the said debt. He de- 
 cided on the latter, and left the old negro with- 
 out any particular ceremony of leave-taking. 
 Achilles drew a long breath, and followed the 
 retreating figure of the literary gentleman with 
 a look of unspeakable relief, which he enjoyed 
 more and more, the greater the distance became 
 between them. The old man found his long 
 waiting at the gate hazardous in the highest de- 
 gree, since this visit had made the danger appa- 
 rent to him, which a light suspicion of the true 
 state of the circumstances that led him there 
 might bring upon him. 
 
 He feared to seat himself in his old place, and 
 wandered slowly back and forth in the neighbor- 
 hood of it, again so deeply absorbed that he 
 hardly perceived a sound or an object of the 
 world without, and at last remained standing 
 near a pillar of the iron gate, against which he 
 leaned himself. Unconscious how long he had 
 continued in this dream-like condition, he was 
 again startled by the immediate neighborhood of 
 a human figure, which stepped directly before 
 him, and whispered his classical name in his ear. 
 
 " Senor Lorenzo," replied he, in a subdued 
 voice, calling the monk by the name with which 
 he had first greeted him when a boy. 
 
 " Are you asleep, Achilles .' are you overcome 
 after so many nights' watching ?" said Celeste to 
 him. The old man sprang suddenly aside, and 
 involuntarily felt in his girdle in search of his 
 weapon, then wrapped himself more closely in 
 the mantle which concealed it. 
 
 " Senora Dolores will be allowed to see Al- 
 phonso to-night, if you can persuade her to re- 
 linquish the resolution which she has formed, to 
 remain behind in the dungeon instead of him. 
 Alphonso's honor will not admit of it — his love 
 still less ; she must be convinced of its impossi- 
 bility. In order to take leave of him, we must 
 first arrange to bring her here to the monastery ; 
 the means are already at her disposal. If she 
 consents to Alphonso's request to see him, and 
 to leave him without persisting in her design, 
 
 conduct her to this gate at eleven o'clock 
 dressed in the habit of the order, which I carried 
 to her yesterday : I will meet you here, and you 
 shall attend me to the prison. 
 
 " Senora Dolores take leave of Alphonso ! 
 Oh ! oh ! Seiior Lorenzo ! Senor Lorenzo ! Se- 
 iior Alphonso is to die ! is to be shot early to- 
 morrow ! Oh ! oh ! Seiior Lorenzo !" cried 
 the old negro, and a stream of scalding tears 
 burst from his sparkling eyes, while the thought 
 of the fulfilment of the sentence deprived him of 
 speech. 
 
 " Almighty God of whites and blacks !" sobber 
 Achilles, after a short pause, while he tried tq 
 conceal his tears with his mantle. " Almighty 
 God ! where are now the Unitarians, the brethren 
 and colleagues of Alphonso .' where are the 
 republicans of La Plata, that they leave him in 
 the dungeon, and do not storm the prison before 
 he is shot ?" 
 
 " Compose yourself, Achilles," interrupted 
 Lorenzo, " compose yourself; our friends are 
 paralyzed through the power of Rosas. The 
 most efficient languish in dungeons like Al- 
 phonso, or in banishment from the bordere of the 
 La Plata; hundreds stand aloof, and no one of 
 them will approach the other, for fear of draw- 
 ing upon himself a similar fate. They reserve 
 their strength for days to come ; and what assist- 
 ance would it be for the present to storm the 
 dungeon, and increase the number of sacrifices 
 by a bloody struggle, if they could not at the 
 same time surprise the palace of Rosas, and 
 strike the tree of curses at its root ? 
 
 " Rosas has concealed himself," muttered the 
 negro; "Rosas, the tiger, will not leave his 
 den, and vultures watch for every lamb that ap- 
 proaches it, and every bird that flies over it. 
 Rosas lets his horse* be led before the people- 
 he is represented in the person of his horse on 
 his birthday. Rosas allows his imagef to be 
 worshipped as God, and conceals himself; like 
 God, invisible ; and the people believe that he is 
 almighty as God ; while he makes money to pay 
 executioners ! And the people surrender the 
 power into his hands ! Stupid people, the whites 
 and colored people on the Plata river !" 
 
 While he muttered these " black reflections," 
 Celeste stood sunk in thought, to suggest a word 
 of counsel for Dolores, in whose welfare he 
 was deeply interested. There remained to him 
 no other means to influence the decision of Do- 
 lores, and bring the alternative home to her, 
 than to lay before her, through Achilles, the ques- 
 tion, " If she would see her betrothed under 
 the above conditions, or would withhold from 
 him this last consolation .'" 
 
 After having again briefly impressed these 
 conditions on the mediator, and particularly 
 charged him to warn Dolores of every danger 
 which a manifestation of her feelings in the 
 prison might lead to, he committed the afl'air to 
 the prudence and dexterity of the negro, and 
 passed through the garden gate of the monastery. 
 
 • Instead of appearing personally before the peoples, 
 Rosas at times, on particular feast days, caused his horse 
 to be trotted out, led by olficers of high rank. 
 
 fThe portrait of Rosas, surrounded with red ribbons 
 and flowers, was at times lifted on high and carried in 
 procession, attended by priests.
 
 H 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE ENGUSHMAIT. 
 
 Among the numerous English families that 
 geek their comfort in all parts of the world to 
 which the waves of the ocean bear a keel, or 
 where their b-iisineas establishea a home, the 
 Walker family lived, in Buenos Ayres, in all the 
 splendor of an undisputed respectability. They 
 inhabited one of the most eligible houses in the 
 street Victoria, which name, it is true, was given 
 before the Queen of Great Britain mounted the 
 throne, and entered into intimate alliance with 
 the Emperor of Russia, but now, as the address 
 of the English house, it acquired peculiar value. 
 It is the easiest thing possible to indicate the 
 standing and style of living of this family, as we 
 only need to mention that it was an Englis/i 
 family of respectability. Their house was of 
 course furnished in English style, and covered 
 with English carpets. Iron chimneys lawfully 
 cast in England, and shells from "the British 
 colonies on the mantelpieces, English blue and 
 white china services, a supply of castor oil, a 
 knocker on the house door, and a bull dog in the 
 yard, were sufficient attributes of unimpeachable 
 nationality. 
 
 iVIr. Walker stood high on the Exchange, and 
 would long since have become British consul, 
 had he not, in secret, sustained ^he much higher 
 rank of quasi diplomat, which brought him into 
 personal intercourse with the assembled minis- 
 ters and private secretaries of the sole ruler of 
 La Plata. He considered himself the actual 
 British ambassador in Buenos Ayres, which 
 dignity was known to himself alone. He main- 
 tained, in a measure, a standing similar to that 
 of a cabinet maker in Berlin, whom Frederick 
 the Great, in jest, named privy counsellor, on 
 condition that, besides themselves, no soul must 
 know of the title. As a Briton, througli the 
 liberty of the press in his fatherland, he had al- 
 ways been allowed political reading, and had 
 selected politics as his darling pursuit. From a 
 longing to display his abilities in parliament, for 
 which he was qualified by his wealth, %vithout 
 possessing any prominent talent for rhetorical 
 discussion, he had thrice sought to gratify his 
 ambition to become a member of that honorable 
 body. Thrice defeated, and at length discon- 
 tented with his native land, he left England, and 
 established himself in business on the banks of 
 the La Plata, where he now by all methods en- 
 deavored to carry out his political role, without 
 in tile least degree taking any open share in 
 political events. 
 
 One fixed idea of old Mr. Walker was, the 
 annexation of all the provinces of La Plata to 
 the British Crown, with which he combined a 
 yet more audacious project, which, in itself, was 
 by no means to be despised. After long and 
 profound study of the geography of South 
 America, he made the discovery that a union of 
 the rivers Amazon and La Plata by means of a 
 canal was possible, and when that should be 
 completed, a steam navigation might be estab- 
 lished from the Ecjuator thr.iugh South America 
 to the 3iith or 37th degree of south latitude. 
 This undertaking was, of course, only to be car- 
 ried on under " British protection," although, 
 perhaps, with foreign capital ; on the supposition 
 
 that both shores of the united floods for aefetA 
 hundred miles east and west, would serve as 
 British colonies, depots for British manufac- 
 tures, and furnish offices for the portionless sons 
 of the English aristocracy. In pursuance of 
 this bold idea, he had opened a mediatorial cor- 
 respondence in London, by means of which he 
 might, at least, lay his project before the private 
 secretary of some minister. While he sought to 
 have it understood there, that he was the right 
 hand man of Rosas in Buenos Ayres, and carried 
 all the provinces of La Plata, so to say, in his 
 pocket, he endeavored to make himself appear 
 to the parvenues who composed the cabinet of 
 Rosas, as a secret ambassador from Great Britain, 
 who had in his vest pocket the gift of the crown 
 to the Dictator, in case the latter would consent 
 to conquer and reserve Monte Video for England ; 
 that is, to permit the British government to erect 
 forts at the outlet of the La Plata, and control 
 the navigation, from Cape St. Antonio, along that 
 river, by way of the idea! canal, to the month of 
 the river Amazon, where a British viceroyalty 
 (Para) should be established — the government of 
 which he reserved for himself, and afterwards 
 for his son, Mr. Robert William Walker. 
 
 With regard to the future political condition 
 of South America, under British protection , all 
 was, of course, in the best order, in Mr. John 
 Walker's port folio, when he sought, in the 
 meantime, to turn the present circumstances of 
 the counti-y to his more immediate advantage. 
 He was interested in several mining companies 
 which had been established by Englishmen in 
 South America, and in such business stood with 
 one foot in Brazil and with the other in Buenos 
 Ayres. Stamped by nature as a diplomat, he 
 was under the necessity of doing something 
 secret, which should at the same time be directly 
 profitable; and accordingly he indulged hia 
 ruling /)a*s«orey<)r mystery by the unlawful ex- 
 portation of precious metals and diamonds. He 
 was also secretly engaged, as the principal owner 
 of some slave ships, in conveying fresh laborers 
 to the mines in Brazil, in which he, of course, 
 had a double interest. He was, as the English 
 say, fond of secrets, and could not have slept 
 quietly if he had not been excited by a secret 
 some hours before he went to rest. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Senor Roderigo B , the uncle of Dolores, 
 
 maintained the standing of a man of independent 
 fortune, whose riches were rated very high. In- 
 duced by the well known respectability of this 
 foreigner, Mr. John Walker had sought his 
 acquaintance as a neighbor on the banks of the 
 I-a Plata, and had sliown the peculiar conde- 
 scension of introducing his daughter. Miss Fanny, 
 as the playmate of Dolores and Theresa. 
 
 This condescension, on the part of a Briton, 
 must have been most highly valued by a South 
 American, of Spanish descent, and, of course, a 
 foreigner. However well meant on the part of 
 the Briton might have been the introduction of
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 15 
 
 Miss Fanny, as the future friend of the Seiioras 
 Dolores and Theresa, fate could hardly have 
 brought together two beings more totally different 
 than Miss Fanny and Senora Dolores. 
 
 In Dolores, from her childhood, a mind was 
 developed which seized upon all the appear- 
 ances of nature as well as of life, with a glow of 
 feeling that shone with crystal clearness in every 
 thought of her active mind. These images in 
 effect caused, in her early childhood, volcanic 
 eruptions of a powerful and inwardly pervading 
 warmth of emotion, which took the form of 
 poetry. Unconsciously to herself, her spirit 
 was elevated to a height of intuition which made 
 the earthly life, whose chaos swept around her, 
 appear foreign and strange to her. 
 
 Her mother had, with maternal partiality, 
 comprehended the peculiarities of her beloved 
 child, and without the least intention of forming 
 a prodigy which might in time serve a museum 
 as a happy acquisition for its public exhibitions, 
 had conducted her education with peculiar care. 
 Providence had bestowed upon her another 
 daughter, her first born, whose mind, with simi- 
 lar intensity, had developed a preference for 
 religious meditation. Her spirit, even when un- 
 restrained, never elevated itself to that high 
 sphere of mward life, by the light of which the 
 caricatures of the social world of our century are 
 exposed to view, while it too often loads the 
 breast which nourishes this higher idea of exis- 
 ^nce, with pain, sorrow, and grief 
 
 Dolores was born and brought up at a quinta, 
 whose gentle elevation imparted a romantic pros- 
 pect to the west, across the expansive stream, 
 from whence onward it became like a sea, or 
 rather like the ocean; while to the east the 
 boundless pampas, here and there interrupted by 
 insignificant hills and woods, displayed them- 
 selves like portions of an endless world. 
 
 The starry sky of the southern hemisphere, 
 glittering in this climate with peculiar bril- 
 liancy, presented to the the child's contemplation 
 an unfathomable wonder-world of various ap- 
 pearances. The thunder, attended by those wild 
 storms (pamperos) which chase over the un- 
 broken plains, announcing, as it were, a break- 
 ing up of the forces of nature, and immediately 
 succeeded by the returning stillness, united the 
 heart of the child more closely to the charms 
 of the surrounding scenery. The sentiment of 
 love, strengthened by her admiration of nature, 
 was blended with holy reverence and adoration 
 of an all-ruling Deity. At the same time, with 
 these impressions of nature, Dolores received the 
 bloody image of the struggles and uprisings of a 
 human sense of honor and right against oppres- 
 sion and tyranny, which filled the annals of that 
 period. Gifted with that unhappy depth of 
 mind, which received all external impressions 
 with such vividness, that the joy or grief of 
 others became ingrafted as a part of her very be- 
 ing, Dolores beheld the struggles of her nation for 
 freedom and independence from the same ele- 
 vated point of view from which her mind had 
 imbibed its ideas of nature, creation, and God, 
 and the principle of love as the first principle of 
 all being. As it is a historical truth, that men- 
 tal power elevates itself more boldly when 
 despotism seeks to subdue it, and loses itself, 
 now and then, amid the relaxation of material 
 comfort, when the element of freedom opens the 
 
 way to progress : so did the spirit of Dolores 
 unfold itself to astonishing height and expan- 
 sion, the more the scornful power of absolutism, 
 represented through Rosas, sought to stifle the 
 pure sentiments of patriotism in her country. 
 Her spirit felt itself all the more free as Rosas 
 sought, by the cheap assistance of the priest- 
 hood, to re-establish darkness and moral slavery. 
 
 After the foregoing remarks, it will appear to 
 us the more natural, when we perceive in the 
 countries of South America the undeniable stri- 
 vings of mental power, seeking to release itself 
 from the two-fold pressure of the Church and 
 of political oppression, and availing itself of the 
 national poetry as its organ. 
 
 The people of those provinces, for the greater 
 part of Spanish or Italian descent, possess in 
 consequence a vivacity of mind which is dia- 
 metrically opposite to the phlegm of the other 
 European races. Since the time of its discovery, 
 South America, as a possession of the Spanish 
 crown, has been fettered by the burning chains 
 of the inquisition, and sunk in the night of fa- 
 naticism ; therefore the light of moral freedom 
 must have penetrated the hearts of men more 
 effectually, when a single decisive struggle re- 
 leased each province from the torture-block of 
 an impertinent priestly tyranny. The people 
 found themselves in the way of progress and de- 
 velopment, guided by the patriotic sacrifices of 
 distinguished men, whose names grace the an- 
 nals of history, until the epoch in which a man, 
 who undoubtedly might have been a very good 
 soldier, rising from the dregs of the people, and 
 vilifying the democratic principle from con- 
 temptible selfishness, threw himself as an usurper 
 upon an extensive territory. 
 
 It was Rosas, who, as an ignominious exam- 
 ple of brutal power, gave the absolutism of mo- 
 narchy the means to mock at the republican 
 principle, and to proclaim the aim after which 
 our century is striving, to be " impracticable and 
 absurd, ridiculous and contemptible, to every 
 reasonable man." 
 
 In harmony with the depth of her mind, a 
 spiritual power developed itself in Dolores, in 
 the form of poetry. In accordance with the spi- 
 rit of poetry, she followed the impulse of the 
 inspiration, which produced its effusions as if 
 involuntarily and irrepressibly. 
 
 As all true talent, more or less unconscious of 
 its own strength and power, compares the spi- 
 ritual fruit of its efforts and labors with the ob- 
 ject that floats before the imagination, and is 
 coupled with diffidence, and often sinks into 
 despondency, so did Dolores appear not to be 
 clearly aware of the worth and dignity of the 
 gift imparted to her as a poetess. She carefully 
 concealed from every eye the product of her in- 
 spiration, the material of which was taken from 
 religion, nature, and of the political development 
 of her nation, which last she contemplated from 
 the point of view of humanity, as a movement in 
 the progress of all mankind. 
 
 The confidential relations of several families 
 with their parents, had tied the happy bond of 
 childish attachment between Lorenzo and Al- 
 phonso, in intercourse with Dolores and her sis- 
 ter Theresa. The two youths were as diflerent 
 in individuality, as were the two sisters, who 
 were in a manner educated with them. Lorenzo 
 had embraced the Catholic religion as the ele-
 
 10 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ment of faith, as the realm of unbounded imagi- 
 nation, in which it became the undeniable sup- 
 port of all the different arts, while it continued 
 to uphold the idea of the unity of mankind in the 
 principle of love, which, unhappily, through 
 the blood-shedding absolutism of the church, 
 (as a state form,) has now in reality become de- 
 spised. 
 
 Theresa appeared to him as faith personified, 
 as the embodied principle of love ; his love to 
 her became religion, because it sprung from the 
 depths of his religious heart. She died in the 
 early bloom of her development. A crisis fol- 
 lowed in the inward life of the youth, the result 
 of which is easier to declare than approve. He 
 assumed the tonsure at the grave of his betrothed, 
 and had lived several years in the quiet retire- 
 ment of the cloister, at the gate of which we 
 lately left him. 
 
 Alphonso, on the contrary, in direct opposi- 
 tion to his friend Lorenzo, considered religion as 
 the basis of all development in mankind, so far 
 as related to one primitive religion^ which, re- 
 vealing itself from age to a^e under different 
 forms, as religion confirmed its influence, from 
 century to century, upon the development of the 
 human race. Churches and rituals appeared to 
 him as forms and formulas, which sink and fall 
 away, to give place to new uprisings of the spi- 
 rit, which affirms its all controlling power as 
 Qie primitiiie spirit of humanity. 
 
 The principle of love in Alphonso, took the 
 form of patriotism, insomuch as he felt himself 
 united to mankind as a man through his nation, 
 and looked upon unreserved sacrifices for the 
 cause of the people as the most sacred condition 
 of the love of mankind, oi humanity. 
 
 Penetrated by these sentiments, the mental 
 phenomena which developed themselves in Do- 
 tores, must have wrought upon him with pow- 
 erful attraction. He loved in Dolores his coun- 
 try ; the principle of freedom, which, so strong 
 in himself, found utterance in her, and was like- 
 wise inwoven in the spirit of his beloved, who at 
 the same point of elevation with himself, formed 
 with him a harmony of being, that no power on 
 earth might rend or loosen. He was as unable 
 to separate the sentiments of patriotism from his 
 love to Dolores, as she would have been to cher- 
 ish love for a heart to whom the idea was 
 foreign which was illustrated in her. 
 
 It being a well known psychological truth, 
 that either love or grief, and often both, rock 
 the cradle of poetic development, and that po- 
 etic talent pursues its career, attended either by 
 the genius of love or the demons of sorrow and 
 gi-ief, it was perfectly natural that the poetic 
 spirit of Dolores should suddenly unfold itself, 
 to a high degree, in the consciousness of Al- 
 phonso's love. 
 
 Dolores, deeply feeling her loneliness since 
 the death of her sister, was little inclined to re- 
 linquish the acquaintance of Miss Fanny, as the 
 latter had displayed from childhood a cordial 
 womanly feeling. Miss Fanny was more easily 
 able to appreciate the exalted miud of her young 
 friend by means of her feelings, than with her 
 understanding to comprehend her mysterious 
 nature, which she revered in Dolores, as much 
 as she had loved her as a playmate. 
 
 She was descended on her mother's side from 
 one of those numerous sects, which ia England 
 
 separate themselves from the established church 
 and had grown up in that mental confusion, 
 which, so often coupled with narrowness of con- 
 ception, considers the unlimited observance of 
 church forms as religion, and, based on fear ra- 
 ther than faith, acknowledges an evil principle, 
 whose power on earth even the Deity was not 
 able to overcome. 
 
 Mr. John Walker, as a man of the world, less 
 anxious about church forms than his wife, under 
 the mask of tolerance concealed that indiffer- 
 ence to all religion which characterizes our 
 times. Without giving in his open life any of- 
 fence to the general requirements of so called re- 
 ligion, he acknowledged the exchange as the 
 temple of business, to which alone he looked 
 for happiness — mammon as the God of our cen- 
 tury ; and he considered credit more important 
 than faith. He passed (in this respect) for an 
 enlightened man, who had risen above many 
 prejudices, and acknowledged the Christian reli- 
 gion only to take an oath in the way of his busi- 
 ness, at the custom house, or as a witness before 
 a court. 
 
 Miss Fanny's religious bias showed itself prin- 
 cipally in consa^ence of her mother's influence, 
 in unlimited hatred and rigid aversion against 
 the Catholic church, and all Catholics, of what- 
 ever nation they might be, while she pitied and 
 looked down also upon all Protestant sects, 
 with the same Christian compassion with which 
 they despise the unfortunate infidels and gen- 
 tiles, who incur eternal damnation by anticipa- 
 tion. The only point of religious union between 
 Miss Fanny and Senora Dolores, was found in 
 the circumstance, that the latter had long since 
 released herself from the forms of the " only 
 saving church," without having as yet, however, 
 preferred any other church to the Romish, while 
 she strictly separated the notions of church and 
 religion, and regarded the ordinances of any es- 
 tablished church as being in direct contradiction 
 to the religion of Jesus. 
 
 Through mental reflection, and the profound 
 study of history, Dolores was brought to the con- 
 viction that the fundamental principles of love, 
 equality, and righteousness, had been as little 
 upheld or practised, on the part of the Romish, 
 as of any other established church, since the 
 foundation of the Christian church in the third 
 century. 
 
 As the principles of humanity, aroused in Do- 
 lores, by the condition and sufferings of her 
 country, under the yoke of tyranny, proceeded 
 from the depth of her religious convictions, so 
 did religion appear in her whole being, as the 
 ruling element of life, and of mental power. Her 
 sympathy in the political events of the time, 
 called out by the lawless outrages of a brutal 
 tyrant, was not at all that petty " spirit of party" 
 with which so many condemn the political move- 
 ments around them ; viewing every appearance 
 as founded on the same personal interest which 
 guides themselves. She cherished from her 
 heart the republican principle which she ac- 
 knowledged as the basis of development in all 
 nations, and which she saw most ignominiouslj 
 despised and proscribed under the arbitrary poVr- 
 er of an usurper. 
 
 Dolores was penetrated by the principle of 
 love, which especially reveals itself by tolerance, 
 in opposition to the intolerance of all sects ; in
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 17 
 
 which, instead of love, the /ear of the devil pre- 
 vails ; consei|uently she loved in Miss Fanny, 
 the playmate uf hev childhood, without seeking, 
 in the smallest degree, to influence her religious 
 views, any more than she would have suft'ered 
 s proselyte maker to approach her, to win her 
 to this or that religious sect. 
 
 To conclude our statement of the relations in 
 which Senora Dolores is to be considered almost 
 as a member of tlic English family, we will only 
 remark, that Mr. Walker was the only Briton in 
 Buenos Ayres who knew of the young lady's 
 distinguished poetic talent. 
 
 —'**^*^'t-t^3&-^-*^^*^rr— 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE rABEWELL IX THE PRISON. 
 
 It wanted a quarter to eleven — the silence of 
 death reigned in the prison, interrupted only by 
 tlie dull tread of soldiers without military bear- 
 ing, who carried their muskets sometimes on the 
 right, and sometimes on the left shoulder, yawn- 
 ing in the dusky night, one minute standing still, 
 and the next walking Ijack and forth. 
 
 In the upper stories, appropriated as barracks, 
 Morplieus seemed to have taken charge of the 
 watch himself, having relieved the mercenaries 
 from duty, producing a most inharmonious nasal 
 concert, which would be insupportable to the 
 hearers as long as they took no part in it them- 
 selves. 
 
 From time to time tlie clanking of a chain was 
 neard through the grating of a dungeon, caused 
 by the noisy stirring of an unfortunate, who, 
 perhaps, turning liimseif sleeplessly on his hard 
 dcd, longed for a draught of Lethe in the arms 
 of sleep, but found not the solace. SeHor Do- 
 mingo sat sunk in profound slumber in the wide 
 arm-chair of his little room, with his snutf box 
 in one liand, and an unused pinch of snufi' be- 
 tween tlie fingers of the other, disturbed, from 
 time to time, by the preponderance of his old 
 gray head, which sank ujjon his breast, obeyed 
 the laws of gravity, and every now and then 
 nodded more profoundly. 
 
 Narcissus, the restless factotum of all com- 
 missions, had taken his place opposite, and 
 leaned his arm and head upon a table, while he 
 slipped about upon a wooden bench, to which 
 long usage had given a natui-al polish and lustre. 
 
 The sentry before the door tediously counted 
 the minutes of the last quarter of an hour of his 
 nigtitly post, until at last it sh-uck eleven. A 
 night watchman, with a lantern in his hand, ap- 
 peared at a distance from the building, and cried, 
 in a hoarse, twanging voice, ** Viva la Confede- 
 racion ! mueran los salvages Unitarios ! viva la 
 representacion ! . . . .las once ! tiempo 
 sereno ! ... el cielo Ileno de estrellas !' 
 
 This announcement of fine weather, which at 
 the moment by no means agreed with the truth, 
 inasmuch as the sky was covered with thunder 
 clouds, escaped involuntarily from this, as it did 
 
 • Long live the Confederation ! death to the cursed 
 Unitarians '. long live the representation t Eleven 
 J'clock : tine weather 1 the sky is lull of stars I 
 3 
 
 from many other watchmen of Buenos Ayres, as 
 if in honor of the name of the city, even wlien 
 the sky was filled with clouds, and the rain was 
 falling by buckets full. 
 
 With the change of sentries, two monkish 
 forms approached, attended by a negro in a wide 
 cloak. A loud challenge was succeeded by as 
 loud a reply. The corporal cast an offici;il glance 
 upon both monks, one of whom presented to 
 him the crucifix with outstretched ai-m, crying, 
 in a low voice, " Memento mori '" 
 
 Surprised and almost terrified at the appear- 
 ance of the personified Saviour, he stepped back, 
 and pulled with one hand the bell handle of the 
 gate, which operation set the perplexed pojter 
 in motion. The gate opened, the monks stepped 
 over the threshold, the soldiers bowed with 
 bended knees, crossed foreheads and breasts, and 
 then arose to discharge the watch for the night. 
 The sentries of the former watch soon left their 
 posts, and entered the building, whose gate, creak- 
 ing and rattling, closed behind them. The porter, 
 a secondary helper in the bloody tragedy, spurred 
 to diligence by Seiior Domingo's unwonted night 
 watching, locked and bolted the entrance, hung 
 a heavy double chain across the gate, bent reve- 
 rently before the two monks, and threw himself 
 on his knees, embracing the occasion to secure a 
 holy benediction. 
 
 " Let the cell of the condemned be opened for 
 us at once," at length said Erother Celeste, 
 breaking the death-like silence which was again 
 prevailing, and addressing Seiior Domingo, who 
 met him, " and be pleased to await us in the 
 chapel, while we prepare the condemned for 
 the sacrament of the holy supper." 
 
 " It shall be done immediately, without fail," 
 said the old officer, ordering the mulatto. Nar- 
 cissus, to call the turnkey of the wing under 
 which the dungeon vault lay, in whose gloomy 
 obscurity Alphonso withered. 
 
 Dolores was one of those charming forms of La 
 Plata, whose fame, in respect to the symmetry of 
 their persons, and their natural grace of carriage 
 and movement, has been proclaimed by so many 
 travellers from all parts of the world. Enve- 
 loped in the black habit of the order, with white 
 sleeves, she appeared like a young monk. Her 
 glossy black hair, besides being covered with the 
 concealing white hood, was further disguised by 
 a false tonsure. An artificial beard, correspond- 
 ing to the early age indicated by her grief- 
 blanched countenance, covered her upper lip 
 and chin. With a trembling hand she bore the 
 cup of the Lord. She stood panting, and with a 
 heaving breast, leaning against a pillar, near 
 Celeste, who carried the crucifix, as if over- 
 powered by the struggles of contending emotions, 
 which raged more fiercely within her, the more 
 she felt herself compelled to suppress their mani- 
 festation. 
 
 Narcissus appeared at last with the under 
 turnkey, a robust mixture of the European and 
 Patagonian ; the latter omitted not to pay his 
 reverence to the holy symbols, and awaited the 
 orders of the two monks. Celeste desired him 
 to take the ciboriurn and crucifix to the chapel, 
 and place them on the altar, there to remain 
 until he was prepared for the sacred ceremony. 
 He pointed out his attendant Achilles as a mem- 
 ber of the watch of his monastery, and ordered 
 him to remain near him.
 
 18 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 The chapel, in the projection of a wing of the 
 bnikting, was opened. The twilight glimmer of 
 the " holy lamp," the so called " eternal light," 
 shone through the shadowy masses of the columns 
 and narrow aisles ; and the low tread of the 
 monks, enveloped in their long garments, pro- 
 duced an echoing rustle in the death-like still- 
 ness. Both monks approached the altar, and 
 ridding themselves of the consecrated objects, 
 knelt down in fervent devotion, sending up an 
 inward prayer to the Lord of all worlds, to the 
 judge of all tyrants, who trieth the heart and 
 searcheth it to its innermost depths. 
 
 A stream of tears flowed from the beaming 
 eyes of Dolores ; convulsively clasping her hands, 
 sh^esought of God shelter and defence, strength 
 and firmness of soul, for the next hours of her 
 troubled existence. Sighing from an anguished 
 breast, she prayed aloud, " We call upon thee, 
 O Lord ! Lord hear us ! Easier is it, Lord, 
 to sutler death, than to tear ourselves from the 
 arms of the friend, on the steps of the scaffold, 
 to which he voluntarily offers himself for thy 
 sake, while the night of slavery oppresses our 
 people. We cry to thee, O Lord, in this hour of 
 despair. Enlighten us with the light of thy 
 U-uth ; revive us by thy all-surrounding might ; 
 elevate us with the spirit of thy eternal love ; 
 strengthen our souls and bodies, that we may not 
 shrink, nor tremble, and faint, in the moment of 
 parting from him — from him — whom thou know- 
 est as he knoweth thee ! Lead and guide us, 
 that we sink not under the superhuman suffering 
 which we endure for his sake, and thine, 
 God !" 
 
 Pervaded and sustained by supernatural 
 strength, Dolores rose, and soon after Celeste. 
 Silent and speechless, each extended a hand to 
 the other, while their tear-bedewed glances en- 
 countered each other. 
 
 With hasty steps they left the altar, and passed 
 the threshold of the chapel, accompanied by the 
 turnkey, while Achilles, gazing earnestly on all 
 sides, followed them. 
 
 The fatal door was reached at length, lock and 
 bolt creaked and rattled, the turnkey placed a 
 dark lantern on the floor of the vault, released 
 the condemned from his fetters, and then de- 
 parted, intimating with a nod that all was now 
 prepared for the enti'ance of the ghostly fathers. 
 
 The two monks passed the threshold, Achilles 
 followed, and the door was closed from the out- 
 side without being locked. 
 
 There is a limit to mortal language, and a 
 sway of feeling which no sound of the tongue 
 serves to express — when even the tear of an- 
 guish is congealed. There are moments in 
 which the heart of man, rent by superhuman 
 agony, appears to cease its pulsations for the 
 maintenance of physical life, while the soul 
 escapes from its mortal fetters, an<l raises itself to 
 the bright regions of anticipation and of faith. 
 There are moments when this world, and all 
 that encompa-sses it, become as foreign to men 
 as if they no more belonged to it ; in such mo- 
 ments they seem to abide as spiritual beings of 
 a brighter world within the sliell of earthly clay, 
 which can have nothing in common with the 
 spirit. 
 
 Dolores and Alphonso struggled through such 
 moments in speechless embraces, as if paralyzed 
 lo corpses by a nervous stroke, while their 
 
 spirits, overstepping time and space on the wing* 
 of faith, floated m the element of divine love. 
 
 The return to earth awakened that powerful 
 organ of the souls' life — the glance, to glance 
 directed, for whose expression no word is ade- 
 quate. They gazed on each other, as if recipro- 
 cally sending beam after beam, and receiving 
 them within the depths of their congenial souls. 
 The story of all the sufferings of an agonizing 
 separation lay in a single glance, the softest 
 emotions of the speechless breast were ex- 
 pressed by a single glance. Paith, resignation, 
 submission to the will of the Most High- antici- 
 pation of the future, and courage and spiritual 
 strength for the present, were mutually pro- 
 claimed by a single glance. 
 
 Each pressed the other's hand like two friends 
 who unexpectedly meet again, and in the joy of 
 re-union forget that they are about to be parted, 
 to meet no more forever. At length an inde- 
 scribable smile of sadness and grief flitted over the 
 lips of both, as in transition to the flow of words, 
 which yet appeared not to be at their command. 
 
 There is a union of two souls, a union in the 
 element of love, by means of which the one an- 
 ticipates, and feels, and experiences, all that 
 which, however lightly, moves its kindred souL 
 There is an understanding and being under- 
 stood, a knowing and being known, without in- 
 tercourse through words, and often even without 
 the influence of the magnetic fluid of the eye- 
 glance. This perception, and comprehension of 
 the most secret passions in the depth of conge- 
 nial souls, is the effect and condition of the holiest 
 sympathy. 
 
 Love and friendship are different forms of one 
 and the same attraction of soul in the eJement of 
 sympathy. The higher the soul in the scale of 
 spiritual improvement and development, the 
 purer and clearer are its depths ; the more it ap- 
 proaches the same degree of elevation and purity, 
 the more powerful the attraction, the closer the 
 bond of sympathy, be it in the form of friendship 
 or of love. 
 
 Dolores and Alphonso, in the same scale of 
 spiritual enlightenment, with equal clearness 
 and depth of mind, reciprocally comprehended 
 the slightest impulse of their worldless breasts ; 
 strengthened by the mutual action of their exalted 
 soul-sympathy, both (as if in magnetic rapport, 
 soaring over the present) appeared to be in the 
 appropriate sphere of their existence ; at last find- 
 ing utterance, they speak and move like som- 
 nambulists, in an element of light, while their 
 their mortal bodies remain prostrate and ex- 
 hausted, unconscious of their physical suflerings. 
 
 The earthly world, and its puppets of the so 
 called " social world," with its sliades of human 
 errors and crimes, was far removed from them ; 
 it was, as if feeble recollections slightly reminded 
 them of past sufferings and afflictions, while 
 they recognised themselves as souls in the 
 spheres of light and love — in the consciousness 
 of the unity of their existence, zmd the immor- 
 tality of their being. 
 
 " Farewell, Alphonso !" said Dolores, at 
 length ; and the sad smile which rested on het 
 lip spread itself over her countenance like th8 
 reflection of the spiritual glory which streamed 
 through her soul. 
 
 " Farewell, Alphonso ! we shall meet again. 
 What is a human life in the scale of sacrifice.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 19 
 
 when fte Kuman spirit knows the destiny 
 which awaits it beyond the grave, to which on 
 eStfth it never can attain. How joyfully do we 
 embrace death, sustained by the thought that 
 We shall soar above, in the spheres of light — 
 perhaps live anew in a nobler form upem an- 
 other planet, this earthly covering being thrown 
 aside, to endure some lesser stru'j,gle in the pro- 
 gress towards perfection^pcrh^ps from phtnet 
 t» planet, ever wrestling and striving, a million 
 times ennobled and enlightened, to approach the 
 light of all being, the primitive source of all 
 love — to become brighter and mere refulgent, 
 from the vision of the Godhead^ until we, made 
 after the image of God, borne upwards by faith, 
 lighted by the glow of love, moving godlike from 
 step to step, from star to star, at length beheld 
 God — the source of light, life and strength ; 
 perhaps, after millions of years of mortal reckon- 
 ing, arriving for the first time at the censcioits- 
 ness of our immortal nature, as we here attain to 
 the contemplation of our connexion with God, 
 through faith in God, which here in the dust 
 we may suspect, hut which will be first known 
 beyond the grave. 
 
 " Farewell, Alphonso ! " she exclaimed, with 
 increasing emotion ; " we part like two wander- 
 ers — two children of one faith, seeking herbs on 
 separate desert plains, to prepare a drink that 
 shall strengthen the human heart in the long 
 hours of suffering; that shall purify the soul 
 and lighten its struggle after virtue; that shall 
 arouse the spirit, and raising it upwards into the 
 element of freedom, shall cause it to glow with 
 the self-consciousness of a mighty strength of 
 will. Well for us, if we find some flowers for 
 such an exalted purpose ; well for us, if we are 
 permitted to demonstrate the existence of a heal- 
 ing power, as within the compass of possibility. 
 Our Father now calls thee hence. It is his will, 
 and his will be done. But he leaves me behind 
 on earth, perhaps for years, perhaps for months, 
 perhaps only for hours, at most but the momen- 
 tary pulse-throb of time, as compared with eter- 
 nity ! The all-loving Father calls thee home : 
 His will be done on earth as it is in heaven ! His 
 kingdom come ! May the reign of that love be 
 realized on earth which the Son of Man once 
 proclaimed, who suffered for man's sake — en- 
 dured the death of the cross, sealing his doc- 
 trine with his blood — the doctrine of equality, 
 justice, and the love of man. This doctrine we 
 have maintained in the consciousness of our vo- 
 cation, as members of the great confederacy of 
 love. For the sake of this doctrine, thou, my Al- 
 phonso, goest to the death which awaits thee, as 
 to martyrdom, and to which I shall perhaps also 
 soon be summoned, when I shall have plucked 
 another flower for the healing draught of man- 
 kind, in the name of God the Father, (the 
 source of all things,) in the name of God the 
 Son, (of man who proceeds from him,) in the 
 name of the Holy Ghost, (who unites Father and 
 Son,) in the name of the holy spirit of progress 
 and improvement Amen ! Amen !" 
 
 " Amen !" cried Lorenzo, while Dolores sank 
 anew on the breast of Alphonso, elevated above 
 the earth as before, and absorbed in the sense of 
 her higher existence. 
 
 " I am ready for death — ready for the passage 
 through darkness into light !"' said Alphonso, 
 »fter a long pause, during which Dolores had re- 
 
 turned to the perception of outward life, an 1 
 perhaps hardly knew what she had just spokea 
 as in a dream — in the dream-like state similar to 
 somnambulism, from which she had recovered. 
 " Partake with me the Lord's supper, the fare- 
 well supper of the Son of Man. Thou wilt pre- 
 sent it to me, Dolores; I desire to receive it from 
 thy hand," concluded Alphonso. 
 
 Dolores, joyfully surprised at this unexpected 
 proposal, answered without words the soul- 
 beaming glance which accompanied the request 
 of Alphonso ; Lorenzo gave a sign to the trou- 
 bled and agitated negro, who now beheld in his 
 mistress a seraph, whose presence filled him 
 with awe. 
 
 Achilles, hardly able to contain himself, ap- 
 proached the closed door, to intimate to the 
 guard that the condemned was to be conducted 
 to the chapel. He found the turnkey fast asleep 
 on the steps of a winding staircase near the door, 
 and by his side a soldier, whose loud yawning 
 indicated that he would gladly have followed 
 the example of the wearied man, if his harder 
 duty had not denied him the enjoyment of this 
 comfort. 
 
 With a morose countenance, provoked by the 
 tedious preparation of a criminal for approaching 
 death, the turnkey seized the lamp, whose glim- 
 mering light was hardly perceivable in the dun- 
 geon, and staggering like a horse half asleep, he 
 ordered the soldier to close the procession and 
 follow the monks. 
 
 CHAPTER VII.' 
 
 THE CONSECRATION TO DEATH. 
 
 The crucifix and ciborium remained, in the 
 silent gloom of night, as the monks had lately 
 left them. Alphonso, with those accompanying 
 him, silently crossed the threshold of the chap- 
 el, approached the steps of the altar with a firm 
 and manly deportment, and knelt in prayer ; 
 his example was followed by the two monks, 
 Achilles and the attendant guard. 
 
 At the conclusion of his prayer, Alphonso 
 rose, and likewise Dolores and Lorenzo. Al- 
 phonso, sticngthencd in soul and nerves, by his 
 spiritual intercourse with the beloved and " won- 
 derful being," now began to speak in the French 
 language, which was not understood by the guard, 
 who, besides, had already chosen their resting- 
 places, and were gradually sinking to slumber. 
 He said — 
 
 " In the name of the Father, who created the 
 myriads of stars ! in the name of the Son, the 
 carpenter's son ! who proclaimed the deliver- 
 ance of mankind ; in the name of the Holy Ghost, 
 who united mankind with the Godhead, and is 
 manifested as the spirit of progress and improve- 
 ment from century to century: I take leave o{ 
 you, and of this earthly world, and approach 
 my death. Amen ! Amen ! 
 
 " When the Son of Man was born in the Roman 
 province of Galilee, his countrymen lived under 
 the dominion of the Roman emperors. Mankind 
 was sunk in unbelief, and selfishness, and idola- 
 try, while, at the same time, no religion prevailed 
 upon earth Faith had expired, the glow of
 
 20 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 love was extinguished. Mankind, degraded by 
 slavery, wallowed in sensuality at the footstools 
 of pompons idols ! IVIan worshipped forms in- 
 stead of spirit i Man felt the need of love, and 
 embraced a marble statue t He felt the prompt- 
 ings of faith, and believed in a Messiah. And 
 Jesus appeared — '' a man who performed Won- 
 derful works,' and taught, in the spirit of tni*h, 
 the principles of equality, ji2stice, and love 
 of man, in direct opposition to the slavery of 
 iovelesj? and right-despising despotism. The 
 Scribes and Pharisees beheld in nim the effort 
 to re-establish the primitive religion, to the sub- 
 version of their traditions and forms for the 
 subjugation of the mind. He was accused, and 
 condemned as guilty, as having sou^t to elevate 
 his countrymen ay a people, on the basis of de- 
 mocracy, because he wished to free them from 
 moral 9er\'itude ; and he was betrayed and sold, 
 and delivered to his enemies, and nailed to the 
 cross as a rebel! Scoffed 3^ as "RexJudaeo- 
 rum I* And as the hcoir of his death drew n^ar, 
 he proclaimed to his disciples the stiuggle of 
 the human race? which has remained the same 
 from century to century, until this day — saying:* 
 
 ** Think not that I am come to send peace on 
 earth : I come not to send peace, but a sword. 
 
 ** For I have come to set man at variance 
 against his father, and the daughter afjainst her 
 mother. And a man's foes shall be they of his 
 own household- 
 
 ** But, beware of men, for they will deliver 
 you to the councils, and they will scourge you in 
 their synagogues. 
 
 •* And the brother shall deliver up the brother 
 to death, and the father the child. 
 
 ** And ye shall be hated of all men for my 
 name's sake; but he that endureth to the end 
 shall be saved. 
 
 *' But when they persecute you in one city, 
 flee ye into another. 
 
 '* And he that taketh not his cross, and fotlow- 
 eth after me, is not worthy of me. He that 
 fiudeth his life shnll lose it ; and he that loseth 
 his life for my sake, shaU find it. 
 
 ** *Andhe, foreknowii ig the approach of his last 
 hour, assembled his disciples on the eve of his 
 martyrdom, to partake with him the farewell 
 supper.* " 
 
 At the^ words, Alphonso looked at the cibo- 
 TJum, and then gazed in the eyes of Dolores, 
 ■which had hitherto been steadily fixed U}>on him, 
 and whose beams apparently mingled with his 
 own. Slowly, and in tones full of expression, 
 Dolores said — 
 
 •* Spirit, strength, light, and lore, are one; 
 kindred rays emanating from one source, from 
 God, the source of all ; in whom we believe in 
 the dust ; whom we shall, hereai'ter, behold in 
 light ! 
 
 O, friend I Wliat ra tbe universe- suiT?<um[3 us j 
 The Spirit 'tis, tlvit keeps the stars ic motion ; 
 Th' eternal Spiiit ! call him Goii or Allah, 
 From love ht; radsed tbe hymn of all creation— 
 The exalted iijmn of bsrhig. Bound to being 
 Are all created things j and love displaying 
 Its greatest power in life but through emotion. 
 The universe vvere nought, without k?ve's presence. 
 
 Life would be no life, were there no disturbance. 
 For unexoited power no miglit di3pla:j"8, 
 
 • Matthew, Chapter 10, verses 34, 35, 36—17,31,22, 
 S3, 3d, 39, 
 
 All forTfts of matter meet With Wrt d#ff(rc*Tt*5B ^ 
 The spirit's working siumbereth not, dot reH» 
 From strife and death the ransomed spirit risetfe 
 Which then, renewed and strengthened, takes aei? laTO0 
 Disturbance, struggle, life, the Ibrurs deslrucli^a. 
 Are but the spirit in its upw^d strivings 
 
 Perplescd are ^uman nature's glocnrj- tbr)ugiit« 
 Of death — no death reigns in the universe ^ 
 Strife, motion, dissolution, is the warfare, 
 Where matter menaces itself and spirit. 
 Our entrance on the morning dawu of death 
 Is only the perfection of our being, 
 E.ven tbe breath of worms dies nc-*, in vain, 
 Aa bcaateous buttertlies tbcy live ©gain. 
 
 Perplexed are n7an''s ideas of annihilation— ' 
 
 Call it det:ay — there is so acnihilation. 
 
 Life's progress is the univei'Sal poem ; 
 
 The spirit's soarieg when the fonn is rent, 
 
 Still upward striving, to its source aspiring'- 
 
 The source's sairctuar\- is love and light y 
 
 The being God — his element is love. 
 
 Which n*;ither darkness nor corruption pnyv^, 
 
 Prog^ress cecds strife — developraent, rth€liiQn j 
 Death elevates the spirit evermore 
 On its unbounded path. Love is its strerTgtk j 
 Ths spirit wills that streagth be exercised- 
 
 KnoTV tlien, xti\ friend, thv being^s high design . 
 What is thy life ^ this little space of time j 
 A span it is j the spirit's might increasing 
 A cypher in the' realm of immortality. 
 Despair will ever bo 1otc-*s surs atteiid^t. 
 When to mankind them giv'st thyself as man. 
 The " Son of Man" di§d on the cross complain iTyg", 
 While bitter pangs trai^spierceU his bleeding heai'C 
 
 " Despair .' no, not despair. Did the * Son of 
 Man,' when upon the cross, for a moment feej 
 himself * foreaken of God ?' It Vas thus that he 
 made known to us his breaking hitman heart 
 He despaired of the sticcess of his doctrine of 
 the deliverance oi the human race at that pe- 
 riodyhut not of mankind. His life, like hia 
 death, indicated hvman feelinsrs, Awmnn sraffef- 
 ini^^s — -faith in humanity— ^tVith in the eletation 
 of mankind. And mankind are advancing to 
 wards their destiny, 
 
 " It ia no dream,'* c*wytinoed Dolores— 
 
 •* It is no dream — it yet sTiaH b« fulfilled. 
 
 The nations yet shall rise in all their miglif. 
 And love on earth its heavenly throne shail butid. 
 
 And life progressive soar in mornii^ ligl^» 
 At last HKiii's suffering shal? diniini^Ued be, 
 
 Wheri to the world this truth is once mtuie cSear, 
 That all miist Kve in love, who fain would see 
 
 The kiDgdoi» of the L»rd established h«v«. 
 
 It is no drenm, tnat in the human soul 
 
 Can raise forbodings of those better days, 
 "When sacred charity shall each control 
 
 To bear the error? of a brother's ways j 
 "When love shall steel the heart against the sfri/lj 
 
 With death — and faith shall bid the soul ai'ise. 
 Above the shrpud and grave, to endless life, 
 
 Loosesed from earth, ta ftoMrish in the skie*. 
 
 It is no dream— the p^er spirit life, 
 
 The innnte consciousness of inward streagtli, 
 "Whose prescience in the human heart is rife, 
 
 And gives to weakness ptrwcr la rise at lengtb. 
 And strug^gte onwards towards its endless aiaa. 
 
 E'en though the crowd to- slavery will bend, 
 A nran Brtay, by his words and deed's, proclaim 
 
 Truth, by which nations soay to life sscendL 
 
 "We hear a wond'rous music '. from the heart 
 Of all the nations issues forth the sound > 
 
 The mighty symphony of souls its part 
 Of love assumes — aiid man to man is boanj j 
 
 The kingdom of our God on earth shall bloom, 
 
 The nation's hatred, scorn, and doubt's deep QloVtBr 
 
 3e lost in love— love that sarrives the toic&b
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 31 
 
 iXL th»t is vrriUea, then shall tc fulfillea, 
 
 All that the Son of Man consoling spoke. 
 The Eastern Satan is already killed ; 
 
 Men shall as brethren love, nor fear his yoke ; 
 And Mammon, pois-nous serpent, be e^ipelled 
 
 From Eden, which his trail has soiled full long ; 
 And where, as sov'reign, he the keys has held 
 
 Of love's pure kingdom, which to man belong. 
 
 Satan has vanished from the glorious East, 
 
 Men are no longer swayed liy devilish fear 5 
 The hours draw nigh, and be their speed increased; 
 
 The Nazareue's pure doctrine all shall hear— 
 The duni^ioii ^raie of mankind shall be void — 
 
 Love's spirit, glitt'ring in its own pure light. 
 Appear — and fraud anil lies shall take to flight, 
 
 And thea shall God be known and served aright," 
 
 Dolores breathed out the last words in the 
 loftiest elevation of godlike inspiration, then, ta- 
 king a consecrated wafer, she broke it, and shar- 
 ing it with Alphonso and Lorenzo, she said, in a 
 gentler voice, — 
 
 " And he took the bread and gave thanks, and 
 reached it to his friends andjsaid, ' Take and eat, 
 and regard this bread as my body, which is bro- 
 ken for the healing of humanity ; and as often 
 as ye meet in spirit think of me !' " and taking 
 the chalice she extended it to both friends, and 
 conveyed it to their lips, saying : " And he took 
 the cup, and handed it to his disciples, and gave 
 thanks, and said. Drink ye ail of this, and think 
 that it is my blood, the blood of the New Testa- 
 ment of my legacies to humanity, which is shed 
 for many ! I say unto you that 1 will drink no 
 more of the growth of the vine ! take ye and 
 drink it, and think of me ! " 
 
 A long pause followed this solemn act. All 
 three knelt down in silent prayer. 
 
 Whoever is acquainted with the Catholic rit- 
 ual, will 'have already perceived that this cele- 
 bration of the Last Supper was by no means ac- 
 cording to the prescribed ceremonials and regu- 
 lations of that church. This circumstance arose 
 from the situation and relations of these Chris 
 tians, who, separated of necessity from the church 
 as the state institution of tyrants, and with the 
 comprehension of the divine idea of Christianity, 
 availed themselves of such forms as most clearly 
 indicated the primitive spirit of the Farewell 
 Supper of Jesus. 
 
 The constellation of the southern cross, invis- 
 ible to the inhabitants of our northern hemis- 
 phere, suddenly shone through the rent masses 
 of dark thunder clouds. The light of these 
 stars (all the more brilliant as the southern 
 hemisphere is less distinguished by prominent 
 constellations than the northern) cast its rays 
 through a high bow window into the obscurity 
 of the chapel. Like the constellation of the 
 great bear around the polar star of the north, 
 tile cross revolving around the south pole of infi- 
 nity (in whicli the human eye has discovered 
 no polar star) had reached tlie altitude in which 
 it became visible to the three mortals at the al- 
 tar of the feast of death. 
 
 " Dante !" suddenly cried Lorenzo, perceiving 
 the light of the cross. The friends raised their 
 eyes and the aspirations of their spirits towards 
 the symbol of martyrdom, which the most an- 
 cient, and perhapa the greatest poet of our Chris- 
 liaii era, beheld centuries ago in wonderful vi- 
 eiutt, before auv European, mo !ir as we know, 
 
 had crossed the equator, and made known the 
 constellations of the southern hemisphere * 
 
 " Dante !" sighed Lorenzo, speaking after a 
 short pause, during which his uplifted gaze re- 
 mained as it were riveted to the constellation. 
 " As Dante's spirit in holy contemplation beheld 
 this constellation, centuries before it was known 
 to any human eye north of the equator, so do 
 our eyes behold the stars of the freedom of South 
 America ! as brilliant stars of the future — of lii- 
 erty, equality, and humanity ! As Galileof was 
 once condemned before a civil and ecclesiastical 
 tribunal, for declaring that our earth revolved 
 with other planets around the sun, in opposition 
 to the letter of the Scriptures — as he asserted 
 in his last words, " I believe in the motion of 
 the planets " — so wert thou also condemned for 
 believing in motion of mankind, in the elevation 
 of tlie human race in opposition to the despotic 
 command of tyranny — "Humanity, standstill .'" 
 
 Alphonso, "who was suddenly brought back by 
 the spirit of these words to his element, laid his 
 right hand on his convulsed heart, and broke 
 forth in the following declaration : 
 
 " I believe in God and humanity ; for this I 
 have contended. I see the stars of the future 
 brighten — the brilliant stars of freedom— the 
 stars of the unity of South America ; and because 
 I declared what I beheld, and acted according to 
 my belief, 1 am compelled to die. I die, but I 
 have not lived in vain. The spirit of the Lord 
 appeared to me here as love, and I proclaimed 
 the exalted tie of the love of mankind as the bond 
 of the Lord upon earth, that shall bind and unite 
 all nations ! And my declaration was made in 
 love. I proclaimed that no people can satisfy 
 the claims and conditions of the Deity, without 
 the consciousness of nationality ! Only as a. 
 people can they include themselves in the great 
 bond of humanity ; in like manner as each man 
 on earth can only fully accomplish his high call- 
 ing, and satisfy the demands of the Deity, as a 
 ma7i, acting as a man among his people, and a.s a 
 son of his fatherland. I studied the history of na- 
 tions, and read the ' book of mankind,' in the re- 
 ality of our present time. And it appeared to me 
 like a caricature : a people without the conscious- 
 ness of their nationality ; and I saw it wilUess, 
 wordless, and deedless — as an instrument in the 
 hand of alisolutism, ignorant of itself — sinking 
 more deeply in slavery — nourishing hatred and 
 enmity against kindred nations. And 1 trembled 
 at the reality of such a caricature. I saw nation 
 al'ter nation in such a condition of degradation ; 
 and I sighed to God — ' thy kingdom come !' the 
 kingdom of love! for love is the essence of God, 
 
 • " lo mi volsi a man destra, e posi mente 
 All altro polo, e vidi quattro stelle 
 Non viste mai fuor ch' alia prima gente, 
 Coder pareva 'I ciel di for tiammclle," etc. etc. 
 Queste qualtro stelle d' una bellezza superiore si pre- 
 sentarono alio giiardo di Dante nella direzione del polo 
 antartico, Amerigo Vespucci — compagno del gran Co- 
 lumbo nel secondo suo viaggio all' America — alia vista 
 di quelle etelle — si ricordo delta adotta quartina di 
 Dante. H. 
 
 t Some royalist authors, of late, will insist that Gali- 
 leo was not persecuted on account of his spiritual staa 
 ding. They appeal to documents in the archives of those 
 dynasties in wliose pay they write. We sliall soon look 
 for a learned confutation of the poisoning of Socrates, or 
 the burning of Jo/iii Huj* H.
 
 22 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 and/reedom the element of humanity — the means 
 of all development and improvement. I saw na- 
 tion after nation without nationalitj-, incapable of 
 fulfilling the duties of humanity towards other 
 nations — every bond rent asunder by slavery. 
 X saw men without patriotism, renouncing their 
 people and fatlierland, disowning their duty to 
 their country, and I trembled at such depth of 
 eelfishness. 
 
 '* And I was penetrated with the light of an 
 idea — as a ray from the source of love ; the idea 
 of the United States of South America, on the 
 basis of humanity, in tlie brilliancy of the star 
 of the future ! And I recognised the same idea 
 in thee, Dolores, and like twin stars united on an 
 endless path, our spirits struggled upwards to the 
 source of love ; imploring power to disseminate 
 the idea, that its light might illuminate, and 
 warm, and rejoice the hearts of kindred people. 
 And thy word became deed, and the deed was 
 looked upon as the crime of love, and the staff 
 was broken over us. 
 
 " I die ! but the idea of the deliverance of South 
 America, and the establishment of a Union of 
 States in the spirit of humanity, dies not %vith 
 me ! The bullets of tyranny may, in a few 
 hours, pierce my heaj't — may shatter my shell of 
 clay ! but they destroy not the principle of love, 
 which was developed in me, and in whose glow, 
 the idea of freedom becomes brighter ajid purer. 
 God is love! the el^me^t of hutnanitt/ is free- 
 dom — freedom is the tneans to elevate and en- 
 noble men in the spirit of humanity .' Make 
 known these, my last words, to all conditions of 
 our people — to all the nations of the earth ; send 
 my deatli-greeting to our confederates in Eu- 
 rope ; persevere in the belief in God, and think 
 of me in the hour of the uprising of the nations !" 
 
 Inspired by supernatural strength, the martyr, 
 at these words, gazed once more upward towai'ds 
 the constellation of the cross, and then in the 
 eyes of Dolores — whose arm, fettered by the cir- 
 cumstance of her disguise, and the presence of 
 the guard, might not press the beloved to her 
 throbbing heart, as a last — last — farewell. A 
 glance and pressure of the hand remained alone 
 to be indulged. Alphonso seized her hand, and 
 pressed it once to his quivering lips; suddenly 
 he let it fall, kneeling down before her, and ex- 
 tending his right hand to heaven, while he gave 
 her a sign with the lelt to leave him to death, 
 and repeated to himself, with inspiration, the 
 following words : 
 
 "Who for a nation's freedom dies, though by the hang- 
 man's hand, 
 
 Hajs won on earth the holiest prize from Ood — for father- 
 land '. " 
 
 Dolores and Lorenzo stood motionless, in silent 
 prayer. Achilles, who all along had been, as it 
 were, in a land of dreams, and had obscurely 
 comprehended the signification of the farewell 
 words in a strange language, more from the 
 scene itself, than from the words, could no 
 longer remain at a distance from the beloved of 
 his mistress. Impelled towards him by the 
 powerful impulse of sacred veneration, belonged 
 to bear away with him at least a look of the mar- 
 tyr's eye as a legacy. 
 
 He glanced timidly around, to see if the half- 
 sleeping guard might observe his movements — 
 threw himself on his knees towards the altar. 
 
 and sought, by his stjpplicating air, to convey to 
 the martyr a token of his pure, manly attach' 
 ment and veneration. 
 
 Alphonso, at parting, in looking around 
 through the obscurity, appeared to appreciate 
 the feedings of the worthy negro, and to under- 
 stand him ; he cast a glance upon him, while the 
 faithful attendant of his beloved, entirely over- 
 come, burst into tears. His sobs awoke the at- 
 tendant mercenaries of the tyrant, who ascribed 
 them to the condemned, without supposing that 
 a feeling human heart could beat within the 
 breast of a negro. The eyes of Dolores rested 
 upon Alphonso. Lorenzo awoke out of pro- 
 found rejlection, raised his voice, and said, 
 
 *' It is no dream — it yet shall be fulfilled, 
 The nations jet shall rise in all their might." 
 
 then extending his hand over Alphonso, he 
 continued : " The Lord cause the stars of 
 futurity to shine over our country ; the Lord 
 establish and elevate the United States of 
 South America to the welfare of the nations 
 who dwell therein ; the Lord strengthen and 
 sustain thee in the hour of thy death, as a mar- 
 tyr to this exalted idea; the Lord be with thee 
 at the moment of passing from night to light ' 
 The Lord conduct thee from step to step of ever- 
 lasting perfection, to the contemplation of his 
 omnipotence and grandeur ; the Lord unite us 
 with thee in the splendor of his love in eterni- 
 ty. Amen !" " Amen !" cried Alphonso and 
 Dolores aloud, in joyful tones, which pervaded 
 the deathlike silence, and awakened a light echo 
 in the gloomy vaults of the chapel. The clock 
 in the neighboring steeple, slowly, and with loud 
 reverberating sound, struck midnight. 
 
 Seiior Domingo, aroused from his sleep, which 
 had confined him during this time to his chair, 
 mechanically felt for his snulf box, and sought to 
 raise his spirits by a tremendous pinch, and 
 counted aloud the strokes of the old clock bell, 
 from one to twelve, as if to aftbrd evidence to the 
 monks that he, in conl'ormity to his duty, had by 
 no means slept. 
 
 "Are you ready now. Brother Celeste!" said 
 he, rubbing his eyes, after a prolonged yawn ; " it 
 is midnight, and the sun rises very early at this 
 time of the year, and before it has fairly riscQ 
 the sentence" 
 
 Lorenzo — Celeste, interrupted the old man, 
 who regarded the execution of an unfnrtunate as 
 business, with the same coolness as the mer- 
 chant thinks of the expedition of a ship captain 
 to jinother part of the world, with the difference, 
 that he concerned himself less about the happy 
 arrival of the doomed man at his destined port, 
 than the merchant does himself in regard to the 
 voyage of the captain, unless the ship and cargo 
 should have been prudently insured. 
 
 " 1 will myself announce to the condemned 
 his hour," interrupted Lorenzo, " and will there- 
 fore remain here with him in his dungeon." 
 
 " Very well ! very well !" answered Senor 
 Domingo, " 1 would not cherish suspicion against 
 your reverence, but the guard tliat remains 
 here must be doubled, according to regulation. 
 You may remain here, hut alone, your reverence, 
 entirely alone, in obedience to the ordinance ol 
 our lord and ruler : may God protect him, at 
 
 least as long as I live so tliat I may uot 
 
 lose my post"
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 33 
 
 He murmured the last words slowly to himself, 
 vawned again, took another pinch of snutf, 
 offered the box to the monks, who were not in- 
 clined to make use of it, and ordered a long, 
 lank fellow, dressed in a corporal's uniform, to 
 conduct the condemned, together with one of the 
 monks, to the dungeon. 
 
 Alphonso, prostrate on his knees before the 
 altar, felt the touch of Lorenzo's hand arousing 
 him, who, at the same time, whispered in his ear 
 that he would remain with him till the last mo- 
 ments of his mortal existence. 
 
 Surprised by such a consolation, which he 
 could hardly have expected under existing cir- 
 cumstances, he suddenly rose, and sank into the 
 arms of ais friend. Dolores, involuntarily ap- 
 proaching him, once more seized the martyr's 
 right hand, imprinted a kiss on his forehead, and 
 felt the imperative necessity of immediately 
 quitting her beloved and the friend of her de- 
 ceased sister, who had now become more than a 
 friend to her. 
 
 " Dolores," whispered Celeste in the ear of the 
 unhappy one, ** Dolores, we must separate, but 
 not forever. I shall see you again upon Earth — 
 perhaps soon — God willing. 
 
 ** Lorenzo !" exclaimed Dolores, trembling 
 and joyfully agitated by this announcement of a 
 purpose which, at the instant remained obscure 
 to her. " Farewell, Lorenzo ! Farewell, Al- 
 phonso — we shall meet again there — there — !" 
 The beam of her expressive look lost itself in 
 the down-streaming light of the southern cross. 
 
 " Forward to the dungeon, if you please," ex- 
 claimed the long, bony corporal, striding up to the 
 condemned. 
 
 " The Lord be with you !" said Dolores, in a 
 tone corresponding with her disguise as priest. 
 She felt herself without strength to leave the 
 altar and the friends, who, standing there in a 
 silent embrace, had convulsively seized both her 
 bands. 
 
 " Separate yourselves— break loose ! forward !" 
 exclaimed the corporal, parting their hands with 
 great dithculty and etlbrt, while Dolores, sup- 
 ported by --ichiUes, suddenly gained A,e requisite 
 presence of mind, collected herselt- and, with 
 drooping head, slowly and with tresfaling steps 
 left the chapel and the '/.vison, by t-b/i side of 
 Achilles, separated from Alphonso, who, in the 
 arms of his friend, enlightened and strengthened 
 by the love of the ** wonderiul being," regarded 
 the moment of death as the passage from night 
 into light. 
 
 6^ft^^*^^^*^'~ 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PUBLIC COi"VVERSATION. 
 
 In the corner house of the " Calle de reinte 
 y cinco de mayo,' and a street, the name of which, 
 used as an address," would by no means serve as 
 an attestation of respectability, was to be found 
 a pulperia (shop) in which coffee and national 
 tea and liquors of all sorts were sold, resembling 
 the small estaminets or cafes of the European 
 
 • Street of tho 25th Maj-. 
 
 continent, in which the peace-loving citizens of 
 the middle classes chat away their evening 
 hours. 
 
 The pulperia of Seiior Boto was notorious as 
 the gathering place of the secret agents of the 
 Rosas police, and was, on this account, in high 
 repute with all the poor sinners of servility — crea- 
 tures of meanness, and the like, who, in some 
 way or other, sought to earn their daily bread in 
 some office of the state, or had already gained 
 the same in the Supreme Director's service, on 
 the condition of never showing the diploma of 
 their suspicious dignity. 
 
 The s))irit or character of the customary eve- 
 ning company in Boto's pulperia (if spirits 
 could be found there, except among the con- 
 tents of his bottles, and if a certain privileged 
 want of character should pass for character) 
 was conformable to the principles of despotic 
 monarchy, which the government represented 
 under the false flag of a republic. To follow 
 out the monarchical principle, is to license 
 every vice that is founded on the egotism of man, 
 to increase the instruments of blind daspotism, 
 while men yield themselves to all its purposes, 
 to satisfy under the mask of civilization their 
 animal desires, where they have no higher aim 
 in life than the gratification of material wants 
 of sensuality. As the principle of despotism 
 licenses each vice, in so far as it removes men 
 from the higher aspirations of spiritual life, 
 so does it despise and proscribe virtue (founded 
 on moral self-consciousness) because it requires 
 the fulfilment of the higher duties opposed to 
 despotism. 
 
 Moral slavery is the element of vice. Moral 
 freedom, in the consciousness of man's dignity, is 
 the element of virtue. The principle of despo- 
 tism, proceeding from egotism, makes use of man 
 as an egotist, while it permits him to make good 
 his personal claims at the expense of others. 
 
 The principle of humanity {as the basis of a 
 republic) requires from men the sacrifice of 
 their individuality, the sacrifice of all personal 
 claims, for the welfare and best interests of their 
 country — their fatherland. 
 
 Monarchy desires slaves — slaves of sensuality 
 and all the passions, because these degrade men 
 into the wiUess instruments of absolute despo- 
 tism. Republics require i7ien — men in the con- 
 sciousness of moral freedom and mental dignity, 
 iiecause without these no virtue, no sacrifice for 
 people and fatherland is to be expected. 
 
 If we cousider the history of the revolutions of 
 nations, of the struggles of the principles of 
 freedom within the last half of the preceding 
 century, despotism shows itself to us in its great- 
 est nakedness, when it seeks the means of sus- 
 taining itself by degrading men to moral deprav- 
 ity — by the system of a secret police. 
 
 As despotism, by means of a dishonoring cen- 
 sorship, disputes the right of men to avail them- 
 selves of words for the expression of their 
 thoughts and feelings, — so it heightens the 
 crime of high treason in a nation, while, by 
 means of its hireling creatures, it seeks to spy 
 out the thoughts and emotions in the depths of 
 the human breast, to hear the suppressed word, 
 to catch up the sigh of despair, that it may fill ita 
 dungeons, and seal the diplomas of its disgrace 
 with the blood of martyrs. 
 
 The pulperia of Seiior Boto was too notorious
 
 24 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 as the gathering place of the before mentioned 
 creatures, for any other person, however superfi- 
 cially acquainted with the localities of the city, 
 to incur the risk o^allowing himself to be listened 
 to and spied upon there. 
 
 Senor Boto was formerly, as a mechanic and 
 citizen, a zealous patriot, a rigid Unitai-ian, and 
 was imprisoned as a member of a conspiracy 
 against Rosas. The loneliness of the prison, 
 combined with many sufl'erings from privation, 
 (which a patriot can so seldom endure without 
 becoming more or less shaken in his principles,) 
 had in a short time turned Seiior Boto. At the 
 first hearing, he already manifested himself ap- 
 parently near to the " state of grace ^^ and to the 
 acknowledgement of" the only comfortable ma- 
 king" absolutism, and was subjected to still 
 severer treatment. He received several dozen 
 lashes upon his back, and at last confessed more 
 than was asked of him, and especially besought, 
 in penitent humility and misery, to be received 
 into the secret service of the tyrant — who could 
 make use of such creatures. After several heads 
 had fallen in consequence of his denunciation, 
 and found their places of honor on the iron rail- 
 ing which surrounds the obelisk in the Plaza 
 de la Victoria, Senor Boto was set at liberty, 
 under secret and open police inspection. iHe 
 still endeavored to wear the mask of a patriot, 
 behind which, however, the stamp of the kna- 
 very of his nature, was but too prominently le- 
 gible. Under the pretence that he had spent a 
 great deal of money, and that his former business 
 was ruined, he established a coffee house, while 
 he held the post of a spy. But it was with him, 
 as with many of his kind in other despotic States ; 
 he was as stupid, as characterless, and soon in- 
 voluntarily betrayed his position. The party of 
 the patriots lost nothing in him, and despotism 
 did not gain much. But he nevertheless drew a 
 pension from the secret fund, which was at the 
 same time the private purse of Rosas, and vege- 
 tated on, like a poisonous plant in a fruit garden. 
 
 A group of fitting subjects for the future king 
 of Rio de la Plata with red ribannds in their but- 
 ton holes, red handkerchiefs — some with red 
 vests — others, besides these marks of the Rosas 
 party, with red noses — were just discussing the 
 day's topic, the execution of the infamous Al- 
 phonso, (as they, in their dutiful contempt, cal- 
 led him,) when Serior Falsodo entered, and or- 
 dered a glass of liquor. 
 
 Attentively listening to the conversation, ac- 
 cording to the custom of his secret profession, 
 he held the glass to his lips, while he directed 
 a searching glance upon those present, and last 
 upon Senor Boto, silently inquiring of him 
 whether he had learned any thing that would be 
 of importance to him. 
 
 What is the news, Seiior Boto.'" inquired 
 he, in a low voice, apprehending that his look 
 had not been sufiiciently understood. 
 
 " Nothing, but vvliat you probably know al- 
 ready," replied the host, " what the gentlemen 
 were just talking about — that his Excellency, 
 the Supreme Director, has set a price on the dis- 
 covery of the author of the Elegies, and will 
 double the sum to the one who will take the 
 author, living, into custody." 
 
 ♦' Alas ! I know that already," sighed Seuor 
 Falsodo. 
 
 " Alas !" replied Senor Boto ; " perhaps you 
 
 are afraid that some one will gain the reward. 
 Do you fear that from interest for the unknown 
 author .'" 
 
 Several of the guests turned arouno with un- 
 restrained astonishment towards the meagre per- 
 son of Senor Falsodo, beholding in him a Unita- 
 rian, the arch enemy of confederative despot- 
 ism. "1! from interest in the author!" ex- 
 claimed he, evidently shocked at the slighest 
 suspicion of such a monstrous supposition. " I ! 
 I ! from interest in the ti-aitor .' Senor Boto, 
 what do you take me for .' 1 said " alas," be- 
 cause, " alas," no man will gain the reward — at 
 least there is yet small prospect of it, as far as I 
 can undei'stand from people who are in connex- 
 ion with the otficers of government, who ought 
 to know something about it. 
 
 " The ' Elegias de la Plata,' which set forth 
 the idea of the union of South America as a 
 republic — the Elegies of which we were just 
 now speaking," interrupted one of the guests, 
 with an unusually wide red riband in the but- 
 ton-hole of a fashionable dress coat, " are to be 
 attributed to no one else but the condemned 
 Seiior Alphonso, himself ! " 
 
 " People do not call a condemned traitor, Se- 
 nor, rejoined a short, thick set fellow, with gray 
 whiskers, taking him up at the word, and sudden- 
 ly brought into such a state of confusion from loy- 
 al effervescence, that he put the wrong end of a 
 newly lighted cigar in his mouth. With the 
 end of his tongue well burnt, and the ashes be- 
 tween his teeth, he made most singular grima- 
 ces, sputtering about, and cursing the entitling 
 of a traitor. 
 
 Involuntary laughter and merriment among 
 the bystanders excited the wrath of the short man 
 whose violent gestures were extremely comical. 
 
 The man in the new dress coat, with the broad 
 (log^s mark of Jiosas' legitimacy in his button- 
 hole, was a so called handsome figure, such ad 
 the French vv'ould denominate " bel homme," 
 with well cultivated, dark whiskers. 
 
 As the Emperor of Russia, the King of Na- 
 ples, and other legitimate potentates, have issued 
 ordinances against the moustache and beard, so 
 there wa.-i law in Buenos Ayres, making it 
 the duty if tvery owner of a beard to shave his 
 chin, in Cjjnti'adistiiietion to the European mode 
 of a later period, which caused the beard to be 
 shaved in a half circle, as a kind of border, or 
 setting to the face. \Vhethcr these modes ori- 
 ginated from the so called liberals, or whether, 
 on the contrai-y, they were fashioned after the 
 " Royal military ordinance for the growth of the 
 sappeurs' beards," we leave a matter for historic 
 and scientific research upon the human beai'd; 
 a study which already counts some literary 
 works, among which is an octavo volume in the 
 French language — " Sur la barbe de I'hommc," 
 — which appeared towards the close of the last 
 century. 
 
 In consequence of this singular fixed idea of 
 despotism and its instruments : that the opin- 
 ions, views, and convictions of men depend on 
 their beard, without reference to the rules of 
 physiognomy, (which for good reasons do not en- 
 ter into their considerations,) Rosas had, also, 
 long since, manifested his decided antipathy to 
 the full beai'd under the chin, by a special or- 
 dinance. 
 
 Whether the Director or Gobernador of the
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 26 
 
 Argentine Republic, was as narrow minded as 
 the European monarchs, who sought to extir- 
 pate convictions and emotions from men's minds, 
 by means of shaving their beards (thus provi- 
 ding for the peace of the state, and the security 
 of his throne) is a matter for controversy. We 
 kpow that the Regent, Rosas, had a special dis- 
 like to the beai-d on the chin, because this, uni- 
 ted with the whiskers, forms anU; which, as 
 the first letter of the words Uuidad, Unitario, 
 and Uruguay, was hated by him to extermina- 
 tion — at least to the extermination of the beard. 
 This ordinance against beards was in full force 
 in Buenos Ayrcs, and a special instruction ex- 
 pressly directed the observation of all the open 
 and secret police officers to the beard. Each 
 true subject of Rosas, and peace-loving citizen 
 of the quasi republic, was constrained to mani- 
 fest a humble submission to the all prevailing 
 will of the despot, by a shorn chin, that it miglit 
 be judged thereby what opinion he cherished, 
 be it political, moral, or religious. 
 
 The short man, with the gray whiskers, ap- 
 peared singularly overcome by the hearty laugh 
 of the handsome man in the new coat, and in- 
 voluntarily turned his close attention towards 
 his person, for having entitled the infamous, 
 condemned traitor, Senor. 
 
 " Sir, what do you mean by laughing at me .' 
 Who are you ? You ! — you are perhaps an Unita- 
 rian, and come here into the company of loyal 
 confederados, to give the title of Seiior to a trai- 
 tor ! 'Tis true, upon my soul ! you are a Unita- 
 rian, and wish to deceive and betray us with your 
 new riband in your button-hole, which you evi- 
 dently have just put there !" The short man be- 
 coming more and more violent, made a sort of 
 upward spring at the suspected person, and 
 passed his finger between his chin and cravat, 
 in search of z political conviction. The hand- 
 some man, as has been observed before, wore his 
 whiskers peculiarly long, in well tended curls. 
 Notwithstanding his beard was legally shaven, 
 according to statute and pattern, a part fell down 
 of itself in front — whereby he became, in the 
 eyes of the confederates, suspected of Unitarian 
 sentiments, and of course " a refractory subjsct," 
 and liable to punishment as a rebel. 
 
 The short man, who found no hair under the 
 handsome man's chin, on which he and his con- 
 jectures might hold fast, shrank down before 
 the suspected man, as suddenly as he had 
 jumped up to him. The handsome man, now, 
 in retaliation, (for the other's importunity,) 
 yet with more coolness, seized on his cravat, 
 and holding him before him with outstretched 
 arms, inquired, in a calm voice, " Who, then, are 
 you ? " iVIost of the bystanders, already greatly 
 amazed by the foregoing scene, could no longer 
 restrain their laughter, while the short man, 
 who was all the while in trouble with his singed 
 tongue, entirely lost his presence of mind. 
 
 " I ! I ! who am I .' " stammered he, now, with 
 deep gaspings, in danger of being strangled, like 
 a Unitarian under the hand of the executioner, 
 I ! I am the barber, Antonio PedriUo Gordo, liv- 
 ing here in Buenos Ayres, over there, in the 
 calle de veinte y cinco de mayo ! Antonio Pe- 
 driUo Gordo, I am — barber — barber ! Shaving is 
 my business, and I am an unsuspected, practical, 
 shaving confederado ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " cried the handsome man in the new 
 
 dress coat, " you hare then certainly an interest, 
 
 if not a right, to seize a stranger by the chin and 
 ascertain whether he is shaven or not ; as to 
 the rest, I would remark to you, that you must 
 neither approach my chin nor my person ; my 
 name is known to the police, and if a police 
 officer were here, I would claim his protection 
 against such a grasp at my personal i)roperty 
 Waiter! give me another glass.of punch," said 
 he, in a lower tone, turning away from tlie bar- 
 ber, whom Seiior Falsodo now courteously ap- 
 proached and offered a cigar in indemnification 
 ibr his rufiled plumage. 
 
 " Recover yourself ! compose yourself, Senor 
 Pedrillo," whispered the spy — "compose your- 
 self in your praiseworthy zeal ; it is very praise- 
 worthy indeed, very praiseworthy on your part, 
 to be so observant in relation to the expressions 
 and intentions of an unknow'n person ; whose 
 name I know, nevertheless," added he, in a low 
 voice — " The stranger there, is a farmer, from 
 the neighborhood of Rio Negro, from Patagonia 
 — only a short time here, in Buenos Ayres, on 
 business — he is an Italian by birth, his name is 
 Guiuseppe Testa." 
 
 " Ah, indeed !" replied the barber, coming to 
 himself by degrees, while he pinched and 
 squeezed the accepted cigar, and finally lighted 
 it ; " he seems to be well acquainted with the 
 circumstances, as he expressed the opinion that 
 the condemned might be the author of the ele- 
 gies, and called him Senor into the bargain, an 
 evident expression of respect, which casts the 
 suspicion upon him of approving the ideas and 
 principles of the author — of being on Unitarian." 
 
 " It suddenly appears very much so to me," 
 said Falsodo, in a still lower tone ; " it surprises 
 me, I did not expect it from hira ; no one has 
 had any suspicion of him until now. He came 
 here in a Patagonian dress, with a drove from 
 the Rio Negro — with horses and cattle, ac- 
 companied by the son of a famous native chief; 
 he had modern clothing made for liiinsclf, as 
 you see, and he wears the Rosas riband, and 
 shaves himself under the chin." 
 
 " Shaves himself, do you say .'" interrupted 
 the barber, quickly, and with a wild stare — 
 " shaves himself, do you say ?" 
 
 " Whether he, or an artist of your trade has 
 fulfilled the regulation of the ordinance on his 
 cliin, 1 cannot certainly decide — enough, that he 
 appeared in all form as a confederado, until the 
 thoughtless and apparently very hasty expression. 
 
 " Look after him closely, Senor Falsodo ! look 
 afler him closely ! do you not observe that " 
 
 " That the suspicion may be confirmed of his 
 being a Unitarian 7" 
 
 " 1 hope not — I do not mean that." 
 
 " What then .' what am I then to observe 
 about him.'" 
 
 " That the under part of his left whisker is 
 cut crooked, a sign that he" 
 
 " That he entertains crooked views as a con- 
 federado?" inquired Falsodo, examining the 
 stranger, with blinking eyes. 
 
 " No ! a sign that he shaves hinuself, and of 
 course — and of course" — the barber Pedrillo 
 pinched and squeezed his cigar anew, as if he 
 would vent his rage upon it — " and of course- 
 is — is — a man for whom I would not give six 
 pence, with his knowledge of existing circum- 
 stances, and with his giving titles to traitors."
 
 26 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " Perhaps he did not shave at all on the Rio Ne- 
 gro, or he mit:ht have been obli<;ed to shave him- 
 self," said Seiior Falsodo, while he sharply con:ii- 
 dered the stranger, who had resumed the con- 
 versation about the condemned with the other 
 guests. 
 
 " Not shaved at all," grumbled Pedrillo to 
 himself; " what bai'barism ! how I rejoice in the 
 progress of civilization, which even directs legis- 
 lation to the beard, and commands shaving, 
 whether it be for the promotion of distinguished 
 talent in art ; or even, as in the present case, for 
 the promotion of industry — of manufactures ! 
 for whoever shaves himself, or allows himself to 
 be shaved, at least requires directly or indirectly 
 one razor. Russia and Naples are in advance of 
 civilization by their wise legislation. In Eng- 
 land, as I hear, such legislation is not necessary, 
 since the people, from patriotism , observe the uni. 
 versal law of fashion in encouraging the manu- 
 facture of the razor, and the industry of the 
 barbers." 
 
 " In England the growth of the beard will not 
 easily become the fashion — the Briton wiU not 
 designedly ruin his own manufactures," observed 
 Falsodo, and walked towards the group of 
 guests, \>hich had formed around the stranger, 
 who appeared to know very well in what at- 
 mosphere he found himself, and had visited the 
 pulperia either designedly or from curiosity. 
 
 '* 1 repeat," said the Italian, while he observed 
 the approach of Senor Falsodo, '• that the ground 
 of my supposition, that the condemned is him- 
 self the author of these poems, lies in this : that I 
 cannot understand how a man, out of generosity 
 and favor to another, could allow himself to be 
 shot, particularly as I hear that he could have 
 his freedom, and live heceforth in comfort any 
 where else, if he would point out the author" 
 
 " Or the authoress, you would say," sud- 
 denly interrupted a little fellow, who had en- 
 tered the apartment not long before, and listened 
 to the conversation, while he lighted his cigar- 
 ette. Many looks were directed towards the 
 owner of this voice, and Seiior Falsodo ap- 
 proached hirn quickly, with the words, " You 
 are also of that opinion ? How do you do, Senor 
 Perezoso .' I hope you find yourself well .'" 
 
 It was, in fact, no other than the volunteer spy, 
 whom we incidentally met at the gate of the 
 monastery, near the negro Achilles — and who, 
 without being yet in the service of Rosas, await- 
 ed some appointment from the favor and grace 
 of the regent, and, in tlie meanwhile, diligently 
 strove to show himself worthy of the same. 
 
 Perezoso had received news of the betrothal 
 of Senora Dolores to Senor Pepefy, with great 
 interest, and left old Achilles in all haste, to 
 take at least one step towards making good an 
 inconsiderable claim on his former scholar, at 
 the same time to gain what farther information 
 he could respecting the projected mairiage. 
 He betook himself straightway to the dwelling 
 of SeHor Pepefy — was very politely received by 
 an old negro, w ho took his card with equal po- 
 liteness. The result of his inquiries as to Senor 
 Pepefy's journey, was unsatisfactory. He went 
 from thence to a shoemaker, whom the uncle of 
 Dolores from time to time visited with his cus- 
 tom, and hoped to discover from him where the 
 young • lady was at that time — whether in the 
 country near the city, or at a distance from it. 
 
 as old Achilles had intimated. In a long con- 
 versation with the artist in leather, on broken 
 soles, upper leather, footings, and new boots, he 
 arrived at more valuable objects — at broken 
 hearts, the imprisonment of external relations, 
 social footings and standings on a larger or 
 smaller footing, from whence he quite acciden- 
 tally mentioned Senora Theresa, as well as her 
 sister Dolores, and then touched upon the rumor 
 that Seiior Pepefy was about to have his social 
 relations new footed, or rather would stand on an 
 entirely new footing. 
 
 The shoemaker, quietly working on at his 
 last, goodnaturedly heard and answered the an- 
 nouncements and inquiries of his old acquain- 
 tance, who had recommended many new custom- 
 ers to him. Senor Perezoso quite accidentally 
 learned, to his great surprise, that Senora Dolores 
 was at that very time in the city, with her friend. 
 Miss Walker, and apjrarently would remain 
 there for some time — and, besides, that Mr. Ro- 
 bert Walker was preparing for a journey, and, as 
 he understood, was going by sea, in a Swediish 
 ship, as far as Rio Janeiro. 
 
 Ailer having taken these steps, he returned to 
 his headijuaiters, Cafi Boto, where we have 
 just observed him. " You are also of that opin- 
 ion," interposed Seiior Falsodo — " that the poem 
 may belong to a lady ?" 
 
 " A suspicion is always a certificate of uncer- 
 tainty," replied the private teacher, with distinct 
 pedantic accent. " So far as 1 am acquainted with 
 the literature, and a great portion of the writers 
 of our country, I might doubt whether the poem 
 was the production of a man who had ever pub- 
 lished any thing before. I think it is evidently 
 the firstling of an unknown muse — not that it is 
 by any means weak or insignificant — but (just the 
 contrary) because it is so original, and, alas, fear- 
 fully magnificent and powerful — a style little 
 known to us" 
 
 " Therefore it is so strongly prohibited by 
 law," remarked Senor Boto, " and therefore the 
 sentence of death, pronounced against the person 
 who disseminated it through the press, was one 
 of the wisest and justest sentences which our 
 Director has ever signed." 
 
 " 1 am entirely of your mind," averred Senor 
 Falsodo : turning again to Perezoso — " but now, 
 if I may ask, Seiior Perezoso, what further 
 strengthens your suspicions with respect to the 
 feminality of the person who wrote the ' Ele- 
 gies V " 
 
 " Hem ! that I should certainly find it diffi- 
 cult to answer with precision. Either, 1 opine — 
 either a youth wrote the poems, as the firstling 
 of his muse, or a woman ; a maiden, a young la- 
 dy, who has already written mucli, but from 
 British fear of making herself ridiculous by her 
 talents and acquirements, has, until now, kept her 
 poetry entinely secret. 1 say British feai , because 
 in England it is an especialdisgrace lor a woman 
 to possess either talents or understanding, and the 
 P^nglish, besides so many manufactures, Bibles, 
 tracts, white and blue stockings, are likewise 
 introducing among us fashion and prejudice." 
 
 " A very correct observation, Seiior Perezo- 
 so," again interrupted Falsodo. 
 
 " England and France are rivals in their influ ■ 
 ence over our State, as well as over all South Ame- 
 rica," continued the private teacher. " England 
 sends us fashion, France intellect — English mer-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 27 
 
 cantile houses show us the pattern of civiliza- 
 tion, for the members of their families seat them- 
 selves at table in yellow patent gloves ; and 
 the French disseminate, here, literary works, 
 whose authors, even in France, are imprisoned in 
 conseiiuence of their intellectual labors. If tlie 
 author, or the presumed authoress, be a lady, and 
 somewhat in connexion with English families 
 here, it apjjcars extremely natural that she 
 should always have kept her poetic talent a pro- 
 found secret, that she might not appear ridicu- 
 lous among the English women. Had she, on 
 the contrary, lived in intercourse with French or 
 Italian families, it is evident that she would 
 have long since become known as a poetess, in 
 one way or another. What among those might 
 make her ridiculous, among these would have 
 been accounted to her honor." 
 
 " How so .'" suddenly exclaimed the barber, 
 PedriUo, in conversation on the same subject with 
 Senor Boto ; " the villain would not confess, 
 would not admit a confessor to see him ?" 
 
 " You are mistaken, Senor Gordo !" remarked 
 Serior Boto ; " he by no means refused to admit a 
 confessor, only he desired his own ; he wished 
 for some Benedictine instead of a Franciscan ; 
 that is the mistake." 
 
 " A Benedictine ?" inquired Senor Perezoso, 
 suddenly, stepping nearer to the bar ; while Fal- 
 sodo would gladly have reserved to himself the 
 interesting discussion upon the standing of the 
 presumptive authoress, and have heard still 
 further. 
 
 " A Benedictine — a Brother Celeste .'" con- 
 tinued he. " So 1 have just accidentally learned. 
 Is it not so, Senor Boto ? you certainly mean 
 Brother Celeste." 
 
 " The same — the same, as I was informed by 
 two guests, who were talking over the news of 
 the day," athrmed Boto. 
 
 " Who is Brother Celeste .'" inquired Perezoso. 
 " What is his family name ; is he a South Ame- 
 rican, or one of those Spanish priests — one of 
 the Jesuits of Don Carlos — who quarter them- 
 selves here .'" 
 
 " It is the rich Senor Lorenzo de V , who, 
 
 from love, (unfortunate love, as people call it,) 
 took up the idea of assuming the tonsure," as- 
 serted Senor Boto. 
 
 " Lorenzo de V ?" exclaimed the private 
 
 teacher, with evident surprise. " Ah ! is it 
 possible ! what do I hear .' that might be," mur- 
 mured he, half aside. " Ah ! the devil ! — that 
 might be," and he sank into earnest and pro- 
 found reflection, while Falsodo appeared dis- 
 posed to seize him by the button and detain him, 
 not only until the former discussion was conclu- 
 ded, but until he had made a full confession of 
 what at that moment so fully occupied him. 
 Perezoso, however, felt by no means disposed to 
 continue the discourse further ; on the contrary, 
 he bitterly regretted that he had given hints 
 and intimations, the importance of which had 
 just now first become apparent to him, from the 
 connexion of ideas with the sister of the de- 
 ceased, Senora Theresa, and her I'riendly rela- 
 tions with Alphonso P , with which he now 
 
 combined the appearance of old Achilles by the 
 walls of the Monastery of St. Bento. Accord- 
 iag to the proverb, " to whom God gives an 
 office, he gives understanding," Falsodo, as a 
 spy of the police, might, without Perozo3u"s inti- 
 
 mations, perhaps, have hit upon the idea which 
 sudden as lightning, appeared to have been awa- 
 kened in the mind of the latter, namely : upon 
 the suspicion or probability, that a spiritual con- 
 nexion e.xisted between Alphonso and Dolores, 
 and that the former had not made choice of the 
 Monk Celeste for confessor without especial 
 reasons. To bring the origin of the famous 
 poetry into connexion with the above events, 
 now busied the private teacher's thoughts the 
 more earnestly, from the circumstance that a 
 substantial reward was annexed to the disco- 
 very, which, in case he succeeded, would pro- 
 mote his establishment in olEce more than any 
 protection. 
 
 Perezoso sought to lead the conversation to 
 other subjects, and gradually to break off the 
 discourse with the guest ; he availed hiroself of 
 a moment while Falsodo was listening with par- 
 ticular attention to the proprietor from Rio Ne- 
 gro, and departed. Hardly had the spy disco- 
 vered that the well informed private teacher had 
 vanished, than he also hurried out of the door, 
 and looked to the right, and left, like a hound 
 which suddenly loses the scent of another hound 
 that has carried away a piece of bread Irom under 
 his nose. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 BXTENOS AYRES AND JOHTT BULL. 
 
 There is hardly a seaport town of the first 
 or second class, which is so inaccessible to ship 
 navigation as Buenos Ayres ; where there is no 
 harbor, in the proper sense of the word, but a 
 double road, extremely dangerous as an anchor- 
 age, which prevents the approach of large 
 ships. 
 
 The gigantic stream, Rio de la Plata, increased 
 by the waters of the Parana and the Paraguay, 
 forms a basin which is about a hundred miles 
 wide at its mouth, on the northerly coast of 
 which Monte Video is situated ; and at a distance 
 of one hundred and thirty miles up the stream, 
 on the opposite shore, lies Buenos Ayres, where 
 the stream, although but twenty-five or thirty 
 miles wide, hardly affords a view of the coun- 
 try to the north. A sand bank, which extends 
 along the city of Buenos Ayres, divides the 
 road into two anchorages, the inner road, Bali- 
 zas, where ships may enter which do not draw 
 above twelve feet water ; and the outer road, 
 Amarradero, like the open sea, exposes them to 
 all the danger of the winds and waves, which 
 assert their peculiar power. The scarcely there 
 perceptible movements of the tide, which in a 
 quiet atmosphere does not alter the height of the 
 water five feet at most, attains a power like the 
 tiow of the ocean when attended hylhe pampe- 
 ros, (southwest storms,) and operates with unex- 
 ampled violence upon this anchorage. A cur- 
 rent of the ocean presses round Cape St. Anto- 
 nio into the basin of the mouth, which creates a 
 circular motion, (similar to the stream in the 
 Gulf of Mexico,) whirls through this basin, 
 and finds its first outlet on the opposite coast, 
 near Monte Video. Under such circumstaaces,
 
 28 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 the rapidity of the stream, as well upward as 
 downward, instead of three miles an hour, is 
 increased to six or seven, so that a ship, carried 
 along by the stream, would easily sail that dis- 
 tance iu an hour. Ships which anchor in the 
 road, can enter into communication with the 
 city by means of skifi's and lighters ; boats which 
 set passengers on shore, are stopped by the sand, 
 and tlie passengers must mount a wagon, or a 
 cart, to arrive at a firm footing. The lading and 
 nnlading of ships is only permitted by law at 
 one single point of the city, that it may be 
 watched the more easily, and contraband tra- 
 ding rendered more difficult, so that the cun- 
 ning and hardihood of the smugglers are put 
 in requisition, in the endeavor to elude the vigi- 
 lance of the guard, by landing several miles 
 abova or below the required point. 
 
 1 he s tuation of the city, as the capital of an 
 extensive country, has a decided influence upon 
 the political circumstances and internal relations 
 of the same ; as an invasion or attack from the sea- 
 side would be rendered difficult in the neigh- 
 borhood of the city, and by a march through the 
 interior of the country, over the almost endless 
 plains, sparsely cultivated and iiihabited, would 
 render tlie movements, or even ':lie existence of 
 an ai'my, a problem of the lust of conquest. 
 
 It remains besides to be considered, that the 
 original inhabitants (however small their num- 
 ber in proportion to the immense expanse of 
 surface) are by no means insignificent in num- 
 ber, and consist of robust and warlike tribes, 
 distinguished for physical activity and strengtli ; 
 a native cavalry, grown up in struggles with 
 four legged bulls, and at all events able to de- 
 fend themselves against a two legged bull — 
 whether he present himself under this or another 
 name. 
 
 As the landing of an enemy from the seaside, 
 opposed to a defence by means of strong batte- 
 ries and a good sized tleet, would be extremely 
 h^ardous, if not impossible, under the before 
 mentioned circumstances, so it would be equally 
 uncomfortable to maintain Buenos Ayres, as a 
 conquest, as certain Britons (Sir Home Pop- 
 ham and Lord Beresford) relate at length, m 
 their report of the fatal events which befel them 
 there on the 12th of August, IsOG. 
 
 The more the Argentine republic was protect- 
 ed from foreign invasion, by its situation and lo- 
 cal advantages, the more injuriously and tragi- 
 cally did they operate at the period of our histo- 
 ry, (whose epoch extends to the present time,*) 
 during the supremacy of an individual raised up 
 as an usurper out of anarchy, who knew how 
 to avail himself of all these advantageous cir- 
 cumstances, to hold the people under the lash 
 through his well known system of terror, and 
 even to defy the reigning powers of Europe. 
 
 Considered from another side, the desjiots of 
 Europe beheld in the Dictator of La Plata a 
 colleague,^who looked forward to the throne and 
 crown, ana having an understanding with them, 
 sought indirectly to make the republican princi- 
 ple appear despicable and impracticable, as we 
 have before mentioned. 
 
 Notwithstanding the prominent difficulties of 
 the undertaking, that render the conquest of 
 Buenos Ayres tiy force of arms, on the part of 
 
 •August, 1844. 
 
 Great Britain or any other European power, ex- 
 tremely doubtful, that country, by dint of the 
 perseverance which peculiarly characterizes it, 
 by no means intermits its labors to cultivate, in- 
 directly, in every way, its territory for the fu- 
 ture, on the La Plata river, and to manure it 
 with its egotism. 
 
 By a singular mistake, the British, since the 
 middle of the last century, have been represent- 
 ed (especially in the popular novels and roman- 
 ces of the European continent) as a nation who 
 personify, in a colossal body, the principle of 
 freedom ; and each Briton as a hero or demi-god 
 by whose very contact an infection of liberalism 
 is communicated, which, united with generosity 
 appears as consolatory to each slave, as dangerous 
 to every despot. The Briton appears in a nim- 
 bus of freedom and independence, which other 
 nations denote by the expression, " British 
 pride," and bow themselves the more profoundly 
 before this splendor, the more they want the 
 feeling of nationality from which this pride 
 proceeds. 
 
 The more and nearer, however, the nations in 
 their struggle for freedom and independence, 
 come in contact with the British, so much the 
 more does the result of experience tend to di- 
 minish the glory of Britannia, without, at the 
 same time, refusing the acknowledgement of her 
 national honor, or denying, or contesting, the 
 more valuable points of national character in in- 
 dividuals.* 
 
 It requires but little sound common sense to 
 perceive that the greatness and splendor of 
 Great Britain is maintained at the expense of 
 the liberties of other nations ; that the Briton 
 arrogates to himself the monopoly of freedom, 
 and holds up to other nations the prospect of 
 becoming British subjects, as a peculiar honor, 
 
 Perezoso, the so called private teacher, or 
 modern philologist, acquainted with several liv- 
 ing languages, had had occasion, as a teacher 
 and interpreter, from his youth upward, to ob- 
 serve, in commercial and consular business, the 
 peculiarities of various nations, and, as his conver- 
 sation with Falsodo manifested, had, with toler- 
 able correctness, seized upon and pointed out 
 the influence of the British, upon the customs 
 and fashions of the country. Although from 
 manifold reasons it concerned him to pursue the 
 inquiry alter the author of the condemned Ele- 
 gies, still, among the number of families and per- 
 sons with whom lie was casually brought in con- 
 tact, he had almost forgotten the intelligent and 
 intellectual Dolores, whose relation to Alphouso 
 still remained a secret. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 UNEXPECTED F.*.TE. 
 
 pEREZosoleft the Cafi Boto in a state of con- 
 usion and bewilderment, so blinded by the light 
 
 • The author distinguishes national rharacler and no- 
 tional sentiments from cabinet intrii^ue aad the principlet 
 of a j^oi'trnment. Sumc, and perhaps not the least into- 
 resting characters of this novel are Knglisk ; they are not 
 the M-orst, and we hope that they rather do honor to 
 the nation than othenviso, H,
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 99 
 
 of his suspicions, that he was neither ahle to dis- 
 tinguish the condition of the present, nor the 
 Concatinations of the past ; much less Was he able 
 to determine upon even a single step which it 
 behooved him to take under the circumstances. 
 Uncertain which vvay to turn himself at that mo- 
 ment, or whether to give to any member of the 
 government a hint of which tiie consequences 
 ttill remained so uncertain, he was apprehen- 
 sive that, by a rash step, he might acquaint 
 some person With his prospect of the gallows 
 premium, v/ho would know how to make use of 
 his confidence to his disadvantage. 
 
 More and more absorbed in such reflections, 
 he Unconsciously approached the prison wiiere 
 Alphonso languished. It was past eleven 
 o'clock, and Celeste and Dolores, attended by 
 Achilles, had just crossed the threshold, when 
 Perezoso turned the corner of a street, whose 
 perspective presented in the back ground the 
 architectural monument of the Jesuits of for- 
 mer centuries. He heard hasty steps behind 
 hitn, and before he had reached the edifice, 
 which he by no means designed to enter, he 
 turned round, slowly, to retrace the path he had 
 Come, in the hope to discover, by the way, a 
 means of accomplishing his design. He was 
 not a little astonished when he found himself 
 fuddenly encountered, nose to nose, by Senor 
 Falsodo, who, after long spying about, had re- 
 notmced all expectation of such a meeting. 
 
 " Ah I a very good evening to you, Seiior Pe- 
 rezoso .'" said the spy to him ; " have you been 
 at the barracks there f" 
 
 " Ah ! a very good evening to you, Senor 
 Falsodo," replied the private teacher, in the 
 same friendly manner ; " have you any business 
 at the barracks there .'" 
 
 " I ! Senor Perezoso — I ! Irfy way led me 
 through this street. I am taking a walk, and 
 feel my head a little heavy after the two glasses 
 of spirits which I drank at Bote's." 
 
 " Then 1 shall take the liberty to accompany 
 you a little way ; I can as well go home by an 
 indirect route." 
 
 " I am much obliged to you, Senor Perezoso," 
 returned Falsodo, who would gladly have learned 
 whether the private teacher had paid any visits 
 since he had been out of his sight. Each had 
 Secretly formed a resolution to keep the other 
 company for this evening, so long as to leave 
 him no chance to give his testimony to an officer 
 before the morning came. 
 
 " Tliat is a solid, massive architecture, the 
 old monastery there, the barracks there," be- 
 gan Perezoso, in a tone of conversation, as they 
 approached the fatal door at which the guard 
 Was discharged, whose office was at the same 
 time that of a patrol. The guard at the entrance 
 was doubled ; the corporal m command had re- 
 ceived the strictest orders to take charge of every 
 living being who should show himself in the 
 neighborhood of the building, and place him in 
 security for the time being. 
 
 Instead of joining in the admiration of the an- 
 cient building, Falsodo noticed that a patrol 
 Was approaching them, and before he could ut- 
 ter a word, a sharp " Who's there ?" was directed 
 to the two night wanderers. " Friends ! 
 Friends !" answered both, nearly at the same 
 time. 
 
 " Very good ! friends of the condemned, friends 
 
 of the traitor !". grumbled the corporal, who at 
 last found an opportunity to show his official 
 diligence by an arrest, and in such a manner 
 hoped to commend himself to advancement as a 
 sergeant. 
 
 '■ Who are you ? what do you want here ?" 
 demanded he now of both, while he suddenly 
 surrounded tliem witli soldiers. 
 
 " We .' we are peaceable citizens, on our Way 
 home," stammered both, nearly shivering with 
 apinehension, as it did not particularly suit 
 either of them to pass a night under arrest, and 
 neglsct their important business. 
 
 The corporal informed himself of their names 
 and dwelling places, and found the latter in ex 
 actly an oppnsitc direction to their promenade 
 
 " What business had you here at the door of 
 the prison ? I will give you time to answer this 
 question to the commissary of police, to-morrow 
 noon. March ! forward, march ! to the guard 
 house !" 
 
 Neither Falsodo nor Perezoso, found it to the 
 purpose to protest long against the disagreeable 
 command of the grumbling soldier, whose strict 
 orders they were now too well acquainted with. 
 Both seemed of the opinion that a long debate 
 with such a subordinate jurisdiction, would be 
 utterly superfluous and useless, especially as 
 the so named " police hours " were long passed, 
 and, under existing circumstances, appearances 
 were against them. 
 
 The less the police spy had been able to dis- 
 cover of the plans of his companion, the more 
 did he maliciously rejoice to see him, at least for 
 a time, prevented from acting, while he relied 
 upon secret protection, to get himself released 
 from confinement. 
 
 Perezoso, who had been long since aware of 
 the position of his companion, no sooner per- 
 ceived his present situation, than he already har- 
 bored the worst apprehensions at being exposed, 
 by such a singular accident, to a false accusation, 
 which he now might expect. 
 
 Animated to an acceleration of their move- 
 ments by several ungentle jogs from the muskets 
 of the guard, the two poor sinners hurried on 
 to the Plaza de la Victoria, and to their iron 
 grated place of destination. The officer of the 
 guard received the corporal's report, and sent 
 the two confederados to a cell, where they found 
 a straw bed, and leisure to philosophize over the 
 origin of the Elegies and their own bad luck. 
 
 to^^^^w^w.— 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE YOUMO SOUTH AMEHICAN. 
 
 A sTOHM-THREATENiNG night, in the spring 
 month of October, enveloped the banks of the 
 river La Plata, over which the city of Buenos 
 Ayres projected, like an indefinite shadow in the 
 southwest, partly concealed by scattered groups 
 of the masts of ships, from diiferent ports of the 
 world. 
 
 The Swedish brig " Nordstjernan,"* lay in the 
 outer road," Amarradero," prepared for sailing, 
 
 » North Star,
 
 so 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Rt a Dretty good distance fropi shore. A solemn 
 BtiUness reigned on board and all around. The 
 two seaman of the watch walked to and fro upon 
 the forward deck, directing a look from time to 
 time, towards west southwest, whence they ex- 
 pected the captain's gig, which was to convey 
 a young ladv, with her servants, on board, whom, 
 as the captain had intimated, he was to brmg off 
 that night. 
 
 Two passengers were seen upon the quarter 
 deck, apparently strangers to each other; the 
 one, a youth, hardly past boyhood, who stood 
 leaning on the bulwark, gazing earnestly in the 
 direction where the boat should appear; his 
 pale, delicate features, and dark brown eye- 
 brows, surrounded by dark ringlets, betokened 
 his Spanish descent, while the countenance in 
 itself, as well as the bearing of the slender form, 
 distinguished by a peculiarly small hand and 
 liandsome foot, indicated a certain natural no- 
 bility, which is to be found, here and there, in 
 ail nations. He was dressed in dark, fashiona- 
 ble clothing, w'ithout the least appearance of 
 dandyism. On his white linen, partly con- 
 realed by the bow of a dark silk cravat, glittered 
 n diamond of great value, a family heirloom for 
 many generations, inherited by him from his 
 father, a South American patriot, whose head 
 luid fallen under the axe of the executioner, at 
 the command of the liberally-governing Rosas ! 
 
 This was Horatio de P , the nephew of the 
 
 noble Alphonso, who was to have shortly fol- 
 lowed that foregoing martyr to the freedom of 
 South America ; but by the special mercy of the 
 tyrant, had been at last permitted to carry his 
 head to the grave, unseparated from his body. 
 Long imprisonment in a dungeon, had reduced 
 the yet undeveloped frame of the youth to a ske- 
 leton, for suspicion had fallen upon him, among 
 others, as being the author of the Elegies, whose 
 publication had cost his uncle his life. Becoming 
 less and less suspected, in consequence of strong 
 justification, and through peculiar circumstances, 
 he was saved by the urgent mediation of a power- 
 ful eccleaiastic, whose influence, as a " pillar of 
 the church," was at least able to effect so much 
 in the cabinet of the tyrant, that the youth, pro- 
 nounced free trom suspicion, was condemned to 
 perpetual banishment from the province of La 
 Plata ; and after the confiscation of half his pro- 
 perty, while the other half remained under 
 administration, he had received permisson to 
 embark. 
 
 The stamp of genius impressed on the in- 
 ward being of this youth, was not to be mis- 
 taken. As art in general is a unity, and the vari- 
 ous branches of poetry, music, and the fine arts, 
 flow frusD one source of intellectual life, the 
 suspWon above referred to was, unhappily, by no 
 means groundless. The youth, who manifested 
 a conspicuous talent for painting, might very 
 naturally be accused of the crime of national 
 poetry, the element of which mingles in this 
 unity. 
 
 Art, having been brought from higher 
 spheres down to this gloomy world, as a ray of 
 the pure life of the soul, exalting the spirit cf 
 man to the contemplation of the elevated and 
 the beautiful, makes known its existence as 
 " national poetry," in the struggles for free- 
 dom of all the nations of the earth. The fine 
 arts, on the contrary, can only exhibit them- 
 
 selves when a nation has passed through seve« 
 ral stages of development, and reached a certain 
 outward stage, which demands the employment 
 of those forms in which painting and sculpture 
 are exercised. Most powerfully, however, does 
 art reveal itself as poetry, in the struggle of a 
 people for their sacred rights, and only in such 
 struggles does each national poetry display 
 itself, quite different from the elegant litera- 
 ture, (however rich,) of a people who have ac- 
 quired neither union nor independence, neither 
 a free country, nor the sense of nationality. 
 
 In corroboration of this, we behold, on the 
 shores of the la Plata, a poetic constellation o( 
 manifold brilliancy, whose rays, like the aurora 
 of a futnre freedom, breakthrough the dungeon- 
 night of slavery, and beam around the scafflods 
 of the martyrs, with whose blood the despairing 
 muse writes those pati'iotic hymns and song3> 
 the origin of which is watched by the execu- 
 tioner. In like manner as moral freedom must 
 precede as the condition of all intellectual 
 development, of every improvement in the 
 arts, so must a national poetry of freedom form 
 the gi-oundwork of all art, which, on the other 
 hand, belies its worth, and falls short of its des- 
 tiny as art, as soon as it degrades itself to the 
 service of absolutism. 
 
 The young Horatio, burning with enthusiasm 
 for the elevated and the beautiful, and seeking, 
 from internal impulse, after forms in which to 
 clothe the spiritual poetry of his being, had al- 
 ready become a " thorn in the flesh" to the rul- 
 ing gaucho, who, conformably with his absolu- 
 tism, sought from a distance to throw the lazo 
 over the neck of the Pegasus, and entrap him, 
 like a wild colt of the pampas, that he might 
 harness him before the triumphal car of his 
 renown. As intellectual life in itself, and every 
 species of moral development, is an abomination 
 to absolutism, so was the discovery of the spark 
 of genius in this.youth sufficient to direct upon 
 him the scourge of the gaucho, to load him 
 with execrations, and to deprive him of his 
 fatherland, whose soil had drank the blood of 
 his nearest relatives. 
 
 Horatio lingered for hours, leaning upon the 
 bulwark of the ** Nordstjernan," and gazing out 
 into the night, which offered to his eye no con- 
 solatory object. The rushing of the stream, 
 which hastened to the ocean with remarkable 
 rapidity and stormy violence, was the predomi- 
 nant melody — a symphony of nature in her 
 magirificence, and iu the immensity of her move- 
 ment. From time to time the creaking of a 
 yard sounded above the monotonous rushing 
 accompaniment of the night, until, at last, an- 
 other hour had sunk into the sea of eternity. 
 The watch bells of all the ships, far and near, 
 tolled in mystical, harmonious tones, in the vari- 
 ous keys of the diflerent metals which chance 
 had brought together from distant parts of the 
 world, to serve as a floating bell concert on the 
 La Plata river. 
 
 Incessantly, and with restless speed, did the 
 waves of the Parana, increased and strensthened 
 by the foaming mass of the Paraguay, and united 
 to the gigantic grandeur of the La Plata, a wa- 
 ving sea, rush past the Nordstjernan, whose 
 ponderous chain cables proved their iron solid- 
 ity, as, from time to time, the ship was shaken by 
 a heavy blow, in tlie dangerous raging of the
 
 DOLORES 
 
 SI 
 
 dement, against the keel of this fabric of hu- 
 man temerity. Many thunder clouds threat- 
 ened each other by silent declarations of war, 
 over the extensive dominion of the Gaucho, 
 and in the direction of the Banda Orientale, but 
 they delayed to send forth their destructive 
 lightning, amidst the rattling thunder, ever 
 changing the forms of their cloud bodies, wliose 
 colossal domes and summits were more gloomily 
 prominent, the less tlie remaining starry sky 
 was obscured by smaller clouds. 
 
 The mind of the youth, in whose agitated 
 depths the grandeur of the universe was reflect- 
 ed only in broken images, seemed to present 
 similar contrasts with the firmament partly en- 
 veloped in thunder clouds. The thought of 
 the approaching death hour of the martyr of his 
 people, whose fate he felt was so intimately con- 
 nected with his own, by the ties of blood and af- 
 fection, weighed down his spirit. In painful un- 
 certainty, he awaited the deliverance of Dolores, 
 whose destiny was no less painfully united to the 
 life of the condemned, than to his own fate. Agi- 
 tated and overpowered by a double affliction, he 
 forgot his own lot, and his own sufferings. 
 
 There are moments in which the human heart, 
 too deeply wounded through the fate of a be- 
 loved being, turns to the light of the future, 
 forgetful of its own sorrow, and finds the bur- 
 den of this earthly existence the heavier, from 
 its inability to save that being by the sacrifice 
 of its own life. These are the hours that try 
 our confidence in divine Providence ; the deci- 
 ding hours of the elevation or fall of inward 
 human dignity. 
 
 The spirit deeply depressed by anguish at the 
 sufferings of others, either rises to the loftiest 
 contemplation of this mortal life, through trust 
 in God, manifesting its nobler human nature by 
 submitting its fate to another's destiny ; or it 
 succumbs in the struggle of despair, breaks the 
 band of love and confidence in God, looks upon 
 life as a caricature without support, without a 
 stay, without any connexion with a higher idea, 
 seeks deliverance in egotism, and loses itself, and 
 the consciousness of the e.xalted dignity of hu- 
 man nature, in the abyss of materialism. 
 
 In Horatio, the love of fatherland appeared to 
 be religion, while the principle of universal 
 philanthropy developed itself in him, as love of 
 mankind, (humanity,) for which a man should 
 sacrifice his individuality, all personal conside- 
 rations towards himself, to the sufferings and the 
 fate of his people, (as a part of mankind,) in the 
 sense of nationality. 
 
 Horatio 'beheld, in the thrilling fate of his 
 uncle, and in the impending danger of Dolores, 
 the snlferings of beloved beings; and therefore 
 more deeply did he feel tlie circumstances of 
 tile slavery, andthe subjugation of his people, 
 under the executioner's axe of a barbarian. In- 
 voluntarily, however, brought to higher views of 
 things, through the influence of the principles 
 and example of his relatives, he recognised in 
 that period of terror in his country the struggle 
 of life and death, through which alone the 
 strength of the nation could be developed, or 
 " moral freedom," as tlie basis of all political 
 freedom, become established. 
 
 On the foundation of faith in the providence 
 of God, there arose within him the belief in 
 "humanity." This sunbeam of futurity, as the 
 
 harbinger cf a bright dawn, breaking through 
 tlie night of suffering that surrounded him, lignt- 
 encd his heart. 
 
 Incapable, in his childlike purity, of compre- 
 hending the reality of absolute wickedness on 
 earth, his unbounded abhorrence of oppression 
 and tyranny, was more the result of tlie suffer- 
 ings of his countrymen, than personal hatred 
 against the enemies of truth and freedom, whom 
 he considered as unfortunate, blinded creatures, 
 who, from despicable egotism, and to their own 
 degradation, scofi'ed at and tramplecl upon the 
 riglits of mankind. 
 
 Gazing to no purpose in the direction whence 
 he expected the return of the captain's boat, he 
 turned, from time to time, to look on that part 
 of the city where the monastery wxs situated, 
 which, used as a prison, confined the martyr 
 whose last moments of life, like the sands in an 
 hour glass, appeared to escape the faster, tlie 
 nearer they approached the end of their allotted 
 time. No human hand was able to seize the 
 hour glass of this mortal's earthly existence, and 
 quickly reverse it in the moment when the last 
 grain of sand was running out. 
 
 Penetrated by corroding grief, a cold sweat 
 overspread his forehead, his knees shook, and 
 he sought a physical support by leaning more 
 firmly against the bulwark, looking forward to 
 the longed for coming of Dolores, as the last 
 consolation which the present was able to afibrd 
 him. 
 
 - .*^**^#-*s#. ^ -#s^^*. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 INWARD LIFE. 
 
 " The boat is coming I" exclaimed a .Swedish 
 sailor, in his mother tongue, his seaman's eye, 
 practised in seeing at a distance, having dis- 
 cerned the expected object, notwithstanding the 
 darkness of the night, like a black speck, afar 
 off. " There it comes !" he repeated in English, 
 supposing that the young South American un- 
 derstood English, or, at least, knew as much of 
 it as himself. . 
 
 " Is the boat coming ? Is the .Seiiora coming ? 
 are there passengers in the boat .'" hastily in- 
 quired Horatio, trembling with the eagerness of 
 expectation, and following the sailor to a place 
 where the best view could be obtained. 
 
 The sailor understood by the tone, and from 
 the words " Seriora and passengers," the sense of 
 the question, and collected his stock of English 
 in broken fragments to answer the youth, that 
 he himself still wavered in uncertainty, that 
 the boat was yet too distant, and that he could 
 not distinguish the number of persons. 
 
 The other passenger, whose presence on deck 
 has been before mentioned, had hitherto, with 
 measured steps, and arms folded upon his breast, 
 continued his promenade upon the quarter deck. 
 He cast, from time to time, a sharp look, from his 
 deep set blue eyes, upon the youth, whose mental 
 agitation could not have escaped a less attentive 
 observer. As a wr'' bred man of the world, he 
 had, since he came i.-. ' 'd, observed that re-
 
 32 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Eerve t-wards his fe!lc-^ passenger which dis- 
 cretion and del'.cacy required of him ; althouf;h, 
 without having in tnc least transgressed the 
 rules of politeness in their accidental enrounter, 
 he had conducted himself towards Hrraiio with 
 becoming civility. He was of slender form, of 
 middling size, and apparently about thirty-live 
 years old — his deportment was characterized by 
 that youthful activity, which appears^n a per- 
 son whose education has been carefully directed 
 towards bodily, as well as mental improvement, 
 and who, in the pursuit of military or gymnas- 
 tic exercises, has his body at his command. 
 His countenance bore that uncertain national 
 character, found as well in the natives of the 
 PvTPnncan peninsula as in the Scandinavian 
 countries, distinguished by a regular profile, 
 a high broad forehead, dark brown hair, black 
 board, and a lighter colored beard on his 
 upper lip. Similar faces occur so frequently 
 jfl those remote countries of Europe, that sin- 
 gular mistakes sometimes occur in confounding 
 persons of both countries, far distant from 
 each other. Such occurrences are interesting to 
 the inquirer in the department of physiognomy, 
 as they support the physiological anil historical 
 observation, that the primitive races of mankind 
 continue to exist, unchanged and unchangeable, 
 in spite of all intermixture. The unknown 
 wore a garm.ent between a monkey jacket and 
 oaletot, of dark grey cloth, a grey Pyrennean 
 Kat, with a wide brim, made of pliable goat's 
 felt, which yielded to, and received external 
 impressions, as easily as the susceptil>le mind 
 of a sufl'ering human being, l!y incidental in- 
 fjuiries respecting the number and relative posi- 
 tions of his fellow passengers, who were to share 
 the cabin with him, he had before learned that 
 the boat had gone ashore, to bring away the sis- 
 ter of the young Englishman, who was pointed 
 out to him, as the son of one of the house by which 
 the ship was freighted. The mental agitation of 
 Horatio revealed itself so unmistakeably, as not 
 a little to rouse the sympathy of the stranger, 
 by means of which his attention was directed 
 involuiitruily towards him, without, however, 
 showing it by a direct approach. Suddenly in- 
 terrupted in his rapid promenade by the w'ords 
 of the sailor, but especially by their effect on his 
 fellow passenger, he placed himself near the 
 Watchful group, peering into the distance, from 
 time to time, to lix his own eyes upon the object 
 of incrensini; attention. 
 
 The d.U'knes3 of the night was gradually giv- 
 ing way to the dawn of approaching day. In 
 the expression of his countenance, as in the 
 whole behavior of the youth, an eagerness of 
 expectation appeared, which, proceeding from 
 the same source with his previous agitation, 
 seemed to have grown to such violence from 
 the same cause. The stranger in the paletot 
 contented himself with silently observing the 
 approaching boat, which, com.ing from the shore, 
 above the city, was favored by the current, and 
 soon approached so near that single persons 
 could be distinguished iu it. 
 
 " There are passengers in the boat," said the 
 stranger, breaking silence, " at least two in the 
 etern, if not three." 
 
 " Then it is she ! then it is she !" exclaimed 
 the youth involuntarily, drawing a Jong breath, 
 aa if his heaving breast was relieved from a part 
 
 of the oppressive weight of anxiety and appre- 
 hension that burdened it. 
 
 Nature gives to men, as members of the great 
 and sacred league of tamanity, a letter of re- 
 commendation and legitimation, whose seal and 
 signature, impressed upon the face, is never 
 forged, and is more valid than all the diplomas 
 of open or secret societies; a document that sel- 
 dom lies, and cannot be purchased with geld, or 
 •inder the guarantee of a third person. It id 
 ite intelligent and noble expression of the hu- 
 man features, the inward dignity, beaming forth 
 in the open countenance, operating on congenial 
 natures, through the chief organ of the soul, 
 the magnetic fluid of the eye. In accordance 
 with this, an attraction, and repulsion or indifler- 
 ence, in meeting or social intercourse, m.anifcsts 
 itself, which as undeniably draws a man in con- 
 fidence towards this or that person, as in the 
 opposite case it would operate repulsively upon 
 him. Both emotions, sympathy and antipathy, 
 are founded in the sacred mystery of our divine 
 nature. 
 
 This repulsion and attraction moves in an in- 
 visible element, (the magnetic fluid,) operating 
 like electric contact. The soul perceives the 
 beneficial influence of a congenial being, by 
 means of this element, as clearly as it feels 
 itself disagreeably excited and disturbed by the 
 approach of another, directly opposite indi- 
 viduality, of a difl'erent sphere of life, without, 
 at the moment, being able to give any account 
 of either one or the other influence. 
 
 This attraction of sympathy, and repiilsion of 
 antipathy, displays itself in the intercourse of 
 mankind with each other, in proportion to the 
 development of the spirit and the sentiment. 
 The higher the degree of development of the in- 
 ward life, the more powerful is the sympathy of 
 congenial or similar natures, and the greater is 
 the antipathy of such persons against individu- 
 als, in whom this life is either not all unfolded, 
 or exists in an inferior degree. 
 
 Men whose intellects are developed at the 
 expense of their hearts, operate repulsively up- 
 on men of feeling, whose intellects have been 
 cultivated in harmony with the purity and depth 
 of their minds, of 'their souls. The more a 
 man denies his spiritual life, and stretches his 
 conscience by the calculations of the under- 
 standing, striving merely alter material aims, 
 the more directly is he opjjosed to the spiritual 
 man in the higher stages of the soul's life ; and 
 consequently, the stronger also the repulsion. 
 In one, materialism reveals itself, destroying the 
 life of the soul ; in the other, spiritualism, puri- 
 fying and elevating the soul. The greater these 
 extremes, the stronger the repulsion. 
 
 In accordance with these observatiions, we find, 
 in heartless men, absolute indifl'ercnce exhibi- 
 ted, since they are incapable ol' any sympathy 
 for others, of any love, (in the jiurer sense of the 
 word,) interested in nothing which does not con- 
 cern themselves — their own personal existence. 
 
 It is not necessary to mention whether, and 
 how far the youth, Horatio, w'as conscious of an 
 attraction towards the unknown ; it is certain 
 that he had experienced as little repulsion, as 
 had the stranger towards him, who felt himself 
 drawn towards the suflering youth by a powerful 
 attraction. 
 
 There are moments in which men. looldog
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ss 
 
 fcrvvard to the fulfilment of their long wishes, 
 are so severely tortured by uncertainty, and har- 
 rassed by doubt, that they hastily consider their 
 approaching realization as an illusion. 
 
 Horatio vvas in a similar state of agitation, on 
 hearing the assurance that there were persons 
 in the boat wliich was to bring Dolores. 
 
 " No ! No ! it is not she !" cried he, suddenly 
 seized with an inward convulsion, which seemed 
 to impart itself to his frame — " it is not she !" 
 repeated he, wringing his hands. He sank, half 
 unconscious, on the breast of the stranger, who 
 hastily seized him under the arms, as his physi- 
 cal strength was ])rostrated by a fainting fit. 
 The stranger felt the throbbing heart of the un- 
 happy youtli on his warm, glowing, manly 
 breast, unable to afford him the slightest relief, 
 in his wild and bitter agony, which might be 
 perceived from such a convulsion of his nature. 
 
 The sympathizing seamen of the watch, moved, 
 after their manner, by the swoon of the youth, 
 hurried to the water butt, to procure the medium 
 of revival, which the unl<nown by no means dis- 
 allowed, though it exercised, as he feared, but 
 little inlluence. 
 
 The boat, impelled by wind and stream, had 
 gradually approached the ship. A death-like si 
 lence prevailed, as before. "Horatio ! Horatio !" 
 sounded from the boat, in a subdued tone of a 
 female voice. As if struck with lightning, or 
 recalled from apparent death to life by galvanic 
 power, the youth aroused, and started, with a 
 strong gaze, speechless and motionless, towards 
 the sky, but without seeing the stars. 
 
 " It is your friend," said the stranger, in his 
 ear; but the youth heai-d not. The two sailors 
 hurried to the ladder, to hold a lantern to those 
 approaching, while Horatio, conducted by his 
 unknown friend, reached the quarter deck with 
 firm steps, without knowing tliat he had changed 
 his place. 
 
 With increasing expectation the man in the 
 paletot gazed at the person who ascended from 
 the boat, and now stood on the deck. It was 
 Dolores, in male attire, with a Biscayan cap, 
 and enveloped in the national mantle, attended 
 by Achilles and Corinna. 
 
 " Where is Horatio .'" cried she, with a trem- 
 bling voice, anxiously gazing around ; where- 
 upon, the stranger led the youth, still speech- 
 less, from emotion, to her arms. 
 
 Roused by the pressure of her hand, he felt 
 his cheek moistened by her tears. With a cry 
 that resoumlt'd through the grave-like stillness 
 of the night, the unhappy youth sighed from the 
 depth of his wounded breast, and called, " Dolo- 
 res !" and the two breasta beat against each 
 other in a silent embrace, in the bliss of reun- 
 ion, as it were at the foot of the martyr's scaf- 
 fold, whose fate and whose death had confirmed 
 in them that bond of sympathy which is a strange 
 and rare phenomenon here on earth, and is only 
 to be conceived and understood in the depart- 
 ment of the higher spiritual life. 
 
 -.Mf»^»^^^^.»^^^JV^..T— 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FREE LODGINGS. 
 
 The officer of the guard, in whose custody 
 the two prisoners had been placed, desired to 
 know no more than thait they were " suspicious 
 persons," who had been found in the neighbor- 
 hood of the before mentioned edifice, in order to 
 confine them with due rigor and contempt, to 
 await their further fate. He did not even con- 
 sider it worth his while to acquaint himself of 
 their names, but noted for his report, where, 
 and how they had been seized, and in what 
 number of tlie prison they were confined. 
 
 The " hotel for public security," in the front 
 hall of which, the military watchfulness of the 
 capital had established its head quarters, vvas 
 provided, for similar cases of noble minded hos- 
 pitality, with many unfurnished cells. Many 
 of these uncomfortable retirements, not origin- 
 ally erected for numerous families, were, from 
 the want of sufficient rooms for the tempory sepa- 
 ration of the sexes, divided by a wall, whereby 
 the number was increased. These " unfurnished 
 rooms for single gentleman," had about the com- 
 pass of a roomy clothes press, whose walls, in- 
 stead of oak, were made of solid freestone — aa 
 iron door, and a grated opening, through which 
 daylight endeavored to intrude itself " around 
 the left corner," by all manner of windings and 
 turnings, formed the only furniture. There was 
 not even a decent chain, nor a ring in the floor, 
 still less a nail or hook in the wall, where one 
 weary of life might arrange his neckcloth for 
 the last time. The strong vfalled, solid " clothes 
 press," into which were now shoved the every- 
 day wardrobe of two persons, stufl'ed with the 
 owners thereof, was locked and bolted with due 
 carefulness. Silently, and without regarding 
 each other, Falsodo and Perezoso had walked 
 together until they came to the door. If either 
 of them had felt an emotion of sym|)atliy prompt- 
 ing him to exchange a look with his companion, 
 it would have been advisable, to do it before the 
 squeaking iron door sprang to its lock behind 
 them. 
 
 The keys and bolts rattled, and without a special 
 mandate from the " future sovereign of La Plata," 
 the two prisoners were totally interdicted from 
 looking at each other, by the pitchy darkness. 
 They absolutely saw nothing at all. Without a 
 conception of the narrowness of the space in 
 which they were placed, they tried to take a 
 step on each side of the entrance, and to venture 
 further into the interior of the apartment,to find 
 a bench, or place of repose. A knock, and a 
 tingling and crackling in the br.iins of each 
 head, which protruded from its well kept gar- 
 ments, was the shocking consequence of such 
 unofli^nding, and by no means unlawful " pro- 
 gress." A long pause followed their duet cry, 
 which was lost on the damp, mouldering walls. 
 
 " It appeai-3 to me that the prison is in reality 
 no prison," sighed Perezoso, at last. 
 
 " So much the better," growled Falsodo, " if 
 we are soon convinced of the truth of your con- 
 jecture, and — and" 
 
 " I mean that it is a sort of stone chest, 90 
 contracted that we can hardly both sit down in 
 it — not a real prison, I think." 
 
 "I wish that this infamous wall, against
 
 u 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 which I just now knocked my head, were like- 
 wise no real wall, but a mattress, or any thing 
 else, so it were less massive," grumbled Falsodo. 
 Both now sought, with outjjtretched arms, to 
 measure the cubic contents of the cell, which 
 they could easily do without moving from tlieir 
 places, a proceeding which would have been 
 attended with serious difficulties. At last they 
 contrived to find as much room as was necessary 
 to seat themsel ves close to each other, in such a 
 manner that the feet of one touched the hips of 
 the other. They both placed their backs and 
 the soles of their feet against the opposite walls, 
 a resting place, or position, which had to answer 
 for the occasion, as little choice of any other re- 
 mained open to them. 
 
 They had hardly arranged themselves in their 
 places, before they sought a vent for the ill 
 humor and spite which had been gradually in- 
 creasing within them. 
 
 " What put it in your head, to take a walk so 
 late at night ?" grumbled Perezoso. 
 
 " And what induced you to turn back with 
 me, to accompany me ? I was not going that 
 way, I wanted to go on further with you," re- 
 plied Falsodo, with Ihe same moroseness. 
 
 " Why did you not say so, then .'" demanded 
 Perezoso. 
 
 " Because I did not think it worth while ; and 
 in fact, I had not remarked what street we were 
 in." 
 
 " You know that to-night, or towards morn- 
 ing, the execution in the prison yard will take 
 place, and that the building was, on that account, 
 guarded with peculiar strictness !" 
 
 " That was in the highest degree indifTerent 
 to me," returned Falsodo ; " I trouble myself, for 
 the most part little, if at all, with politics and 
 political crimes and punishments." 
 
 " It is, indeed, a most thankless occupation," 
 muttered the private teacher ; " I find, however, 
 that a person may be involved in political affairs 
 entirely against his will." 
 
 " I have thought so this long while, and un 
 happily feel it more severelj in your valuable so 
 ciety. We both sit here, apparently as much 
 against our will, as Seiior Alphoiiso will be shot 
 in the morning against his." The spy sought 
 in this manner to lead the conversation, as if ac- 
 cidentally, to the circumstance which had been 
 the original cause of their imprisonment. But 
 Perezoso saw through him, and forthwith sat or 
 lay as if overtaken hy sleep. 
 
 Falsodo was trebly chagrined, as spy, as pri- 
 soner, and as poor devil ; especially by the re- 
 serve of liis companion, who appeared tho- 
 roughly disinclined to make confession to him. 
 It occurred to him that several governments 
 made important discoveries by causing jirisoners 
 to be watched during their sjeep, or even in 
 fever, and overhearing their expressions ; a 
 measure which the secret police of the Grand 
 Duke Constantine knew how to make as useful in 
 Poland, as the inquisition of Don Carlos in Spain. 
 Seiior Perezoso must certainly know sometliing 
 which had reference to the discovery of the au- 
 thor or authoress of the Elegies. This idea had 
 become a certainty to Falsodo. That the poems 
 vrere written by a lady, had already become 
 not less probable to him. But what lady the 
 private teacher had in his eye, was a question 
 which sorely puzzled him. 
 
 In the hope that his companion might dream 
 in his sleep, and might talk in his dreams, hO 
 resolved to make the official sacrifice of watch- 
 ing, throughout the whole night, in the aforesaid 
 posture, that no confession of any sort might 
 escape him. 
 
 Perezoso's purpose of deceiving his dungeon 
 companion by a feigned sleep, in order to break 
 off the discourse with him, was fully attained ; 
 finding himself in a sort of moral and physical 
 depression, he soon sank into a real sleep ; in- 
 stead, however, of talking in his dreams, he 
 discovered a peculiar talent in snoring from a 
 deep nasal bass. The spy sought, by all manner 
 of means, to ward off sleep, and soon became so 
 absorbed, notwithstanding his chagrin, that at 
 length he was extremely obliged to his com- 
 panion for keeping him awake by means of his 
 music, even though he did not give him the de- 
 sired confession. 
 
 Several hours passed by. The private teacher 
 snored on, and the police spy listened to the va- 
 riations of the nasal bass with strict conscien- 
 tiousness. The stillness of death prevailed 
 around their cell, which lay half under ground, 
 in a corner of the court, separated from the cor- 
 ridor of the fagade. Neither the clang of 
 weapons nor the order for dismissal, pei:etrated 
 into this solitude. Suddenly, however, footsteps 
 were heard, not far from the iron door near 
 which Falsodo watched, and the jingling sound 
 of weapons apptf"oached. A tremendous yawn 
 from some sleepy head, %vho let a bunch of keys 
 fall, and thus indirectly announced himself as 
 the jailer, sounded through the midnight silence. 
 " Hei-e is number five," he growled — " you 
 want the two in number fi*'e .'" 
 
 "To be sure!" exclaimed a sergeant, whose 
 color and bni/d betrayed a mi.vture of African 
 and Patagonian blood ; " quick, now ! we are in 
 a hurry ! we must be at the shore before the boat 
 goes. Come, out with them both !" ' 
 
 The jailer yawned again, set a dark lantern 
 with a half extinguished light on the ground, 
 opened the iron door which he had pointed out, 
 and called out at the threshold, " March ! out 
 with you ! out with you both 1" 
 
 "We? both of us? out.'" asked Falsodo, as 
 much astonished as alarmed ; " we ?" 
 
 " Yes ! who the devil besides ? there are only 
 you two in this lodge. That fellow there is 
 asleep yet," said the lock-up man, in still surlier 
 tones, uttering a tremendous oath. 
 
 " Now, come ! how long must this last .'" 
 grumbled the sergeant ; " can't the sleepy block- 
 head there get on his legs ? must I help the fel- 
 low a little .'" 
 
 Falsodo, beside himself with alarm, strove to 
 stammer out a question — why, and wherefore, 
 and whither, they were taking them. To all 
 this the sergeant replied, with a contemptuous 
 smile, that he himself knew as little about it as 
 he was interested in it. 
 
 Perezoso had neither time for question nor 
 alarm, for before he was fairly awake, the escort, 
 in whose midst he found himself, was already in 
 the street, and in rapid motion. 
 
 Awaking thus, he considered the whole event 
 as the continuation of a dream, and marched on 
 mechanically, until the escort reached the banks 
 of the river, where they were thrust, with more 
 prisoners, on board a boat, which, according to
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 35 
 
 appearances, belonged to the navy of the sole 
 ruler of the Argentine quasi republic. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 OFFICIAI. DUTY. 
 
 It was an hour before sunrise, when the sen- 
 tries at the gate of the prison were doubled, and 
 B subaltern officer passing through the middle of 
 the street with about fifty men, defiled them in 
 parallel columns, thus closing the approach to 
 the principal entrance. The officer was a young 
 man, whose countenance bore very little expres- 
 sion of either the jailer or the executioner; he 
 dropped the point of his sword, and wtdked 
 slowly back and fortli, with arms crossed upon 
 his breast, and downcast looks, gazing vacantly 
 before him. 
 
 The grates and blinds of the balconies, and 
 windows of the nearer and more distant houses, 
 remained fastened, notwithstanding the military 
 tumult, which was not unusual in this neighbor'- 
 hood. Here and there, a human figure moved 
 behind the laths of the aforesaid wooden gra- 
 tings, which characterize the architecture of 
 South American houses. Some of tliese were 
 painted red, thus manifesting, by this favorite 
 color of Rosas, tlie loyal confederado senti- 
 ments of their owner. No one dared to open 
 a grated door, or a blind, for fear of betray- 
 ing in his features an emotion of pain or com- 
 passion, which might compromise him to the 
 Argus eyes of despotism, as sympathizing with 
 the cause of the people. The silence of death 
 prevailed around. The steps of the young man 
 in uniform kept pace with those of the sentries, 
 while their eai-nest gaze was averted from each 
 other, and they dared not exchange a word by 
 which to shorten the tedium of their mutual 
 post. 
 
 The harbingers of dawn, the first beams of the 
 expected sun, appeared to linger. Time itself 
 seemed to pause, before admitting through its 
 miglity floodgates, the passage of a moment 
 which should add anotlier blood spot to the 
 soiled book of the people's history, to increase 
 the debt of guilt of tyranny, the settlement of 
 which will belong to the nations, when they 
 shall awake to the consciousness of their dig- 
 nity and their power. 
 
 The bells of the neighboring monasteries, 
 sounded for early mass, and the dying reverbe- 
 rations of their tones, produced a plaintive mel- 
 ody, which lost itself in the returning death- 
 like silence of the dawn. The young man in 
 uniform suddenly stood still, putting his left 
 hand into his breast pocket, to draw forth his 
 watch, when a report of musketry, from the in- 
 terior of the barrack yard, apparently caused 
 him to quiver, and the color of his manly coun- 
 tenance chafiged to a deathlike jjaleness. 
 
 " it is fulfilled," said he, half aloud, and at 
 the same instant he sudilenly straightened him- 
 self into a military attitude, and thundered out a 
 command, which had as much of curse as 
 blessing in its sound. The two columns formed 
 themselves into one opposite the gate, from 
 
 which, after a few minutes, an ordinance ofBcer 
 came forth, and whispered an order in the ear 
 of the young man in unitbrm ; whereupon the 
 latter, with his corps, re-entered the barrack. A 
 Franciscan monk appeared at the gate before it 
 was again closed. It was Padre Fernando, who, 
 in the name of his saint, desired to speak to the 
 superintendent, Seiior Domingo, or to some other 
 officer of the prison. The ordinance officer 
 measured the figure of the monk with a search- 
 ing look, from crown to sandal, as if examining 
 into the identity of the monastic appearance, and 
 then sufl'ered him to pass, while at the same 
 time he gave the mulatto, Narcissus, a command 
 to conduct him to the apartment of the superin- 
 tendent of the prison. The gate was then locked 
 and bolted again, as hastily as it had been opened. 
 Old Domingo had been so sorely burdened by 
 visits and disturbances of all sorts, in relation to 
 the traitor Alphonso, that at last it seemed 
 enough, and he desired rest, as a kind of right, 
 even though his mind, hardened and blunted by 
 similar occasions and long habit, required it less 
 than his aged body 
 
 Weary and dispirited with the fulfilment of 
 his official duty, m which we have partly fol- 
 lowed him, Seiior Domingo sat on a bench, near 
 the door of his private apartment, in a sort of 
 front hall, which was bounded by a grating be- 
 tween the inner court and the principal entrance. 
 His seat allowed him the prospect of both courts, 
 which were separated from each other by rows 
 of willows, forming a perspective, animated by a 
 crowd of soldiers, officers, and functionaries of 
 vai'ious ranks, among whom the grave-digger oc- 
 cupied, for the moment, the most conspicuous 
 position ; he had just dug a grave in a corner of 
 the inner court, which was close by the chapel 
 and a portion of the old prison, and in some 
 respects, a kind of consecrated ground. Fer- 
 nando approached his old acquaintance with 
 the customary ecclesiastical greeting, and the 
 formula of inquiry after his health, which the 
 old man answered by a murmur of thanks, and 
 the mechanical profier of his snufl' box. The 
 monk had not come for the pinch of snuff, so 
 much as for the most circumstantial information 
 respecting the last moments of the so called trai- 
 tor, whom he was known to have attended in his 
 last days. He seemed to act upon the principle, 
 that whoever seeks a favor from a parent must 
 speak well of his child, or from a snuffer, must 
 praise his snuff. In this case, it was desirable 
 to put the old man in a talkative humor, and 
 Padre Fernando hit upon the method, by finding 
 the snufl' excjuisite ; whereupon, each" took an 
 enormous pinch. The monk cast a searching 
 look through the iron grating in the back ground, 
 where a blood red pall (the color of Rosas, and 
 of the throne mantles of all tyrants) covered an 
 object that looked like a corpse. 
 
 " He is dead, then .' executed ! shot !" — in- 
 quired the Padre, with a movement of the head 
 in that direction. 
 
 " Seven and twenty balls aimed at the breast," 
 replied old Domingo, slowly, and with emphasis, 
 " seven and twenty — but not blindfolded — that 
 he would not consent to ; he protested against 
 it, and the officers granted him the favor and. 
 mercy of looking death boldly in the face — out 
 of humanity, out of pure humanity." 
 " But kneeling.'" interrogated the mor»k
 
 se 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " Kneeling ! certainly," continued the other, 
 "but only upon one knee, and he held his hands 
 on his back." 
 
 " What do you say .' — on one knee, and with his 
 eyes open !" again interposed the monk ; " met 
 death face to face ? but he confessed beforehand ? 
 and the Benedictine, Brother Celeste — or what- 
 ever he is called — who must step into my place 
 — when did he go away ! if I may inquire." 
 
 " Brother Celeste remained in the dungeon 
 with the criminal until his last hour, at your ser- 
 vice. Padre Fernando," replied the old man; " and 
 
 when they had taken leave of each other" 
 
 " Taken leave .'" once more interrupted the 
 monk, " taken leave .' then they spoke to each 
 other, even at the place of execution i' Did 
 you not hear what they said, Seiior Domingo.' 
 May I ask you for another pinch ? your snuti' is 
 alwaysso excellent — excelientissimo." 
 
 Senor Domingo yawned in the face of the in- 
 quisitive priest, while he mechanically placed 
 the snuff box at his disposal, without replying 
 to the question. 
 
 " Then you did not hear what they said to 
 each other .' Pardon me the question, if proceeds 
 
 from pure Christian interest in" 
 
 " In the person executed, to whom neither 
 your sympathy nor mine can now be of the least 
 service," added the old man, unconsciously, lay- 
 ing his hands upon each other, as if he would 
 fold them in prayer. " You see. Padre Fer- 
 nando," he continued, " when I have living cri 
 minals and condemned persons, in chains and 
 bonds, in my custody, on my responsibility, then 
 I am hard, firm, relentless, inexorable in every 
 respect, because that concerns the fulfilment of 
 my duty to my office, my bread, my existence ; 
 and besides, the security of the state depends upon 
 it — that is plain enough. But when the hour is 
 over, when the head of my prisoner rolls from un- 
 der the axe, in the sand — or when the shots rat- 
 tle and the corpse lies there, then all my crimi- 
 nals appear to me in an entirely ditlererit light. 
 They are judged, and the thought very often oc- 
 curs to me, that they go to appear as accusers, 
 before a judge on high ; as accusers ! Padre Fer- 
 nando! before a judge who vrill one day pass 
 sentence upon the judges — upon the judges, I 
 mean, who here sign sentences of death. 
 
 " Hem ! to be sure '." replied the Franciscan, 
 " but judgement must be exercised on earth, 
 and goveniment is God's handmaid." May I ask 
 you, Seiior Domingo, where the reverend 
 Brother Celeste is to be found ? I am under the 
 necessity of speaking to him." 
 " So far as I know, he is still in our chapel." 
 " Ah ! in the chapel, there ; may I request 
 you to open this grated door for me .'" 
 
 "I resjret extremely, Padre Fernando,that I can- 
 not oblige you; it is not permitted," replied the 
 superintendent, drily and readily, " as you know 
 yourself, it is not permitted without a written 
 order from the authorities. Yesterday is not 
 to-day ; you appeared yesterday as the father 
 confessor, who was to prepare the condemned 
 for death — you found admittance ; the criminal is 
 no more, and that order is no more in force. I 
 regret it extremely, Padi'e Fernando. Will you 
 take another pinch ?" 
 
 The snuff was, at tliis moment, far from be- 
 ing as excellent as before ; the monk had hoped 
 in all haste to encounter the colleague, who had 
 
 taken his place, and perhaps fo learn sofnefTii'ng 
 more about the condemned, that might at least 
 gratify his curiosity. The firm precision of the 
 superintendent had drawn a dash through his 
 reckoning. He propounded the question, how- 
 ever, whether a lay brother, or novice, had not 
 accompanied Brother Celeste, the preceding 
 night, as wa.s customary .' The wearied old 
 man nodded an affirmative, and added, that he 
 was indeed accompanied by a brother of his 
 own order, and a negro, one of those blacks in 
 the sen'ice of the monastery." 
 
 "So! so!" cried the monk, "then a second 
 brother of his order was with him ! Did you 
 not learn his name ?" 
 
 " I cannot inform yon, I do not know it," 
 murmured old Domingo, a little gruffly, annoyed 
 with so many qnestions, whose object did not 
 appear to him particularly important ; and too 
 weary and sleepy, besides, to desire continuance 
 of this useless interview. Just then the porter 
 opened the grated door, to allow a number ol 
 functionaries, who had been present as witnes- 
 ses of the execution, to depart. 
 
 Sei5or Domingo, cast a mute look upon his 
 uninvited guest, in the uniform of the holy 
 Francis, which sufficiently intimated that the 
 latter had better take this remarkably good op- 
 portunity of passing over the threshold of the 
 prison. 
 
 " There were seven and twenty balls then .'" 
 inquired the monk, who understood the hint, 
 and had approached the door — " and all pierced 
 the breast !" 
 
 " iS'ine the breast, three the heart, four the 
 right shoulder, and three the left — six entered 
 the head, and two missed, making seven and 
 tiventy," grumbled the old man, very hastily. 
 " Your servant — farewell. Padre Fernando !" 
 
 The monk had scarcely time to send his cor- 
 dial thanks for this ba// report through the clo- 
 sing narrow door, which was opened in the mid- 
 dle of the great gate for similar small visits ; be- 
 fore he could collect himself, it was locked be- 
 hind him. He remained a moment standing, in 
 counsel with himself, and then hastened in 
 the direction of the monastery of St. Bcnto, 
 either to await there the return of his colleague. 
 Celeste, or, if possible, to meet with one of the 
 attendants who had entered the prison the past 
 night, and perhaps had learned something of 
 importance. 
 
 ».*^w^^««- 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE MERCENABY AND THE BEPUBLICAW. 
 
 OvEH against the Mole, which is built out 
 into the stream from about the centre of the city, 
 the brig of war La Caza' lay at anchor in the 
 
 Amarradero" the outer road, near the sand 
 bank which divides it from the inner road, the 
 Balizas. La Caza carried twelve guns, and 
 was commanded by Mr. Tumble, an English- 
 man in the service of Rosas, who found such a 
 position lucrative, after having received an ue- 
 
 » " The chase"—" pursuit.'
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 37 
 
 sought for dismissal as midshipman under the 
 British flag. He was one of those so called 
 " able seamen," who understand how to com- 
 mand a crew and to empty a glass of grog, but 
 from a defect in their mental education, do not 
 know how to sustain a proper balance of charac- 
 ter, nor even to live in harmony with their sujie- 
 riors. Sucli Icind of *' useful subjects" pass for 
 " good captains," when a ship is accidentally 
 entrusted to them, although the verdict of their 
 subordinates does not harmonize with their repu- 
 tation on shore. 
 
 "Five bells" of the morning watch had just 
 sounded. Seitor Enero, the second in command, 
 a young man from tlie banks of the La Plata, 
 walked to and fro upon tlie quarter deck, con- 
 versing with Seiior Codo, anothoi- officer, an 
 European Spaniard. From time to time Enero 
 looked towards the city, whose white spires, 
 domes, and cupolas, becoming gradually lighted 
 by the rosy beams of dawn, stood forth, by de- 
 grees, on the back ground of a cloudy horizon, 
 while the body of the city below them lay like a 
 dark shadow. 
 
 " There will be another elegant crew," said 
 Enero, after a pause in the desultory conversa- 
 tion, accompanying his words by an ironical 
 emile; " we have but twenty men on board, at 
 most, and require fifty, and among all we are 
 able to procure, there are few experienced sailors 
 to be expected." 
 
 " It is the same here, under our Rosas, as it is 
 in Constantinople, where 1 have often superin- 
 tended such a press gang," remarked Seiior 
 Codo. " When a Turkish ship is about to sail, 
 a bridge is laid from the shore to the ship ; then 
 the drums and fifes play, and all the needy raga- 
 muffins in the neighborliood, who are prompted 
 by hunger and despair, run onboard and become 
 the crew. If a proportionate number of Greeks 
 were not always impressed, wlio command re- 
 spect as sailors, it would have I'ai-ed worse with 
 the Turkish fleet than has been the case." 
 
 " 1 have heard of those Turkish press gangs," 
 replied Seuor Enero, " which are similarly 
 managed in Brazil, and especially in Rio de 
 Janeiro, as well lor the marine as for the com- 
 pletion of tlie military battalions. Whoever 
 goes out in the evening must be supplied with a 
 ticket of residence, a document with which the 
 police provides the stranger on his arrival, upon 
 the delivery of his passport. If the patrol find 
 any one whatever without such a document, they 
 immediately seize him, carry him temporarily 
 to the guard house, and then send him, without 
 ceremony, to the militia, often directly against the 
 rebels in the interior, or to Rio Grande, and 
 then it will be very hard fur the unlucky ' per- 
 manento' * to get out of his uniform jacket 
 again." 
 
 " Perhaps the transport cutter may bring us, 
 this morning, the same description of forced re- 
 cruits for the crew of our Caza," remarked 
 Seiior Codo, " and many whom we shall now re- 
 ceive, dreamed not last night of their future 
 fate before the mast, or behind the guns on 
 board of a war brig." 
 
 " Rightly observed," rejoined the second in 
 command ; " this mode of making up the number 
 of men, whether it be on land or water, does 
 
 * Hegular soiilier. 
 
 not particularly please me ; and when we close- 
 ly investigate the power of the Orientates,* 
 displayed in their persevering obstinacy, in the 
 contest against us, we are constrained to ac- 
 knowledge a certain moral force, founded espe- 
 cially on the circumstance" — the young man 
 hesitated to utter a truth redounding to the 
 disgrace of his country — " on the circumstance," 
 continued he, " that there a man fights for a 
 principle, and here, with us, by command of 
 our Dictator, for a few dollars." 
 
 " To be sure," murmured the other, " I know 
 what you would say ; the Orientals bear upon 
 their banners, or at least, as the motto of their 
 newspapers, words that point at a notion, which 
 they may call a principle. They talk much about 
 'Igualdad, Liberdad, Humanidad, '(equality, free- 
 dom, and humanity) — words which, like so many 
 other fashions, have come to our shores from 
 Europe ; but, according to my judgement, they 
 are merely words — each word stands for noth- 
 ing more than a word, with which no idea is 
 connected." 
 
 "1 know your principles," said Enero ; " in 
 Spain you were a Carlist, and fought after your 
 manner, for Don Carlos and the Inquisition. 
 Our commander, Senor Tumble — with all respect 
 to his character as a marine officer — our com- 
 mander is likewise a royalist, like all Britons, 
 and we are here united under the Argentine 
 flag — and the device of our government is also 
 a word, and that word is ' Rosas !' and the idea 
 that we should combine with it, is, the subjuga- 
 tion of the provinces of La Plata under the exe- 
 cutioner, Rosas !" 
 
 " Executioner, Rosas .'" cried Codo, suddenly 
 standng still, and gazing on his comrade. 
 
 " Certainly," replied the other, " and I repeat 
 the word, although so many a patriot is quietly 
 shot, instead of being beheaded. Taken figu- 
 ratively, the sceptre of Rosas is the axe, the exe- 
 cutioner's axe." 
 
 " And do you not fear the axe, if it should be- 
 conre known that you uphold such sentiments," 
 whispered the Spaniard, with a sinister smile. 
 
 " No one overhears us," answered the South 
 American, briefly and earnestly — " 1 know to 
 whonr I am speaking — I know your royalist 
 principles — 1 know you, also, as a seaman, and 
 that is enough. I know that no man of war 
 bears our flag, in which Rosas has not spies in 
 pay, directly and indirectly, and, for the most 
 part, foreigners. I know, also, that many of our 
 comrades owe their advancement to denun- 
 ciation—to espionage. But the element of the 
 ocean endm-es no treachery ! Wo to him who 
 should be discovered as a spy on board the 
 Caza. With regard to the Orientals," con- 
 tinued he, after a long pause, " we must respect 
 them as enemies ; the honor, which worthy op- 
 ponents bring against us, reflects upon ourselves ! 
 The Orientals fight from conviction, and with 
 enthusiasm, because they know wherefore they 
 fight. Our people fight for their pay, at the 
 command of Rosas. That is the difference. The 
 Orientals combat for the principle of freedom, 
 of a republic, against the principle of absolutism 
 represented by Rosas. The Banda Oriental doea 
 nut renounce the idea of the union of the pro- 
 
 • Orientals— the people of the Banda On'enlai— Mon;s 
 Video.
 
 33 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 vinces of La Plata, but only the sovereignty of 
 Kosas, whose person stands in the way of their 
 union, while he either will not, or is unable to, 
 comprehend the idea which unfolds itself in 
 South America." 
 
 " It is very true that Rosas does not concern 
 himself much with ideas," replied Codo, " and 
 there he is in the ri^ht; but he remains, not- 
 withstanding, one of the gi'eatest men of our age 
 — ay, or any age, and yields not to Napoleon 
 in any respect." 
 
 " May historians, after the death of Rosas, 
 place him where he belongs," answered Enero. 
 " His name belongs to history, the histor)' of 
 South America, and he himself has written it, 
 with blood, upon the annals of the present ; may 
 he answer for it. He may pei-secute the Unita- 
 rians — he will not eradicate the spirit of freedom, 
 nor extirpate the idea that lies at the bottom of 
 the struggle, the idea of the foundation of the 
 United States of South America." 
 
 " A fantastic idea," said Codo, smiling ironi- 
 cally, " which will hardly ever be realized !" 
 
 " Just so would a royalist thirty years ago 
 have said, in reference to the independence of 
 our provinces of the Spanish crown," rejoined 
 Enero ; " and whoever had dreamed, eighty years 
 ago, of a coUossal republic of the United States 
 of North America, which, before the end of the 
 first century, should compete with all the mo- 
 narchies of the earth, in bloom and fruit, in 
 dignity and strength, w-ould have been pro- 
 claimed a madman. No mortal — no Rosas, can 
 restrain the development and accomplishment 
 of an idea, when once its rays have entered 
 the heai-ts of the people. Our Argentine re- 
 public exists as a republic; and as to myself, 
 I shall still fight for principle, because I 
 would rather see Monte Viedo united to us, 
 than that she should fall into the hands of the 
 British, who reckon upon it. But the system of 
 our government, the system of terror, cannot 
 last. Rosas is mortal. Even the worst republic, 
 is better than the most tolerable monarchy ; for 
 the fate of the people does not hang upon the 
 first born of a single family, the nation has its 
 sacred rights, and only as a republic can it assert 
 them. Did we not breals loose from the yoke of 
 the Spanish monarchy, in a struggle of life 
 and death ! Is it not to be ascribed to the want 
 of enlightenment, to the influence of the priests, 
 and the speculations of usurers, that we are 
 once more ruled by despotism ?" 
 
 " What you call despotism, appears to me ab- 
 solutely necessary for the maintenance of public 
 order," said .Senor Codo. 
 
 " So the royalists justify eveiy arbitrary act, 
 every execution of a patriot, who, from love of 
 fatherland, embraces the cause of the people. 
 The population of Monte Video consists of no 
 other elements than ours, here, in Buenos 
 Ayres." 
 
 " The liberal ideas of Europe find more free 
 entrance there," returned Codo. 
 
 " Good ! you contradict yourself, Seiior Codo 
 — can public order, and security of person and 
 property, exist in the Oriental republic by the 
 dissemination of the so called liberal ideas of 
 Europe ? Why then does the axe of despotism 
 become an absolute necessity here, among us ? 
 We know the customary phrase of the royalists, 
 that a nation is not ripe fur freedom ; but we find 
 
 no example in history, where despotism ba< 
 prepared a nation for freedom, while it robs peo- 
 ple of their sacred rights, and, by gradually in- 
 creasing oppression, drives them to despair, 
 until the chain is broken, and they seek deli- 
 verance." 
 
 " Your principles, Senor Enero, are entirely 
 those of a republican." 
 
 " Other principles would not be to my honor ; 
 my country is a republic, and only as such has 
 it a future, as a free state of South America." 
 
 The first lieutenant turned away at these words, 
 looked at his watch, and ordered the officer to 
 call him, when the cutter, which he expected 
 from the city, approached. 
 
 The Spanish royalist who, like so many 
 others, had entered the service of Rosas as an 
 adventurer, looked after the South American 
 with a thoughtful mein, and then, resuming his 
 measured step, walked to and fro upon the 
 planks of the quarter deck. La Caza swayed 
 slowly with the movement of the stream, the 
 yards creaked in measured time, the morning 
 "dawn brightened into daylight, over a sea-piece 
 with a city in the distance, whose moveable 
 figures balanced more and more in the fore- 
 ground. Beheld from another point of view, 
 the sea-piece appeared stiU more dreary and 
 uniform, wliile the opposite shore of the La 
 Plata, covered with clouds, was hardly visible. 
 In the centre of the picture, among the separate 
 groups of ships from various parts of the world, 
 appeared the Swedish brig " Nordstjernan," by 
 whose sails and rigging it was evident that she 
 was preparing to heave anchor. 
 
 B.#S#^*^N^«— 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE MONKS. 
 
 The early mass was over ; the monks of the 
 Monastery of St. Bento endeavored to pass the 
 interval until the general assembling to break- 
 fast in the large refectory, each after his own 
 manner. The father guardian walked up and 
 down in the shady paths of tlie spacious garden, 
 deeply engaged in conversation with lather Am- 
 brose," a monk of the same order, from Barce- 
 lona, who, a month before, had found an asylum 
 in Buenos Ayres. Father Ambrose had touched 
 upon a bloody and eventful chapter in his life, 
 in seeking to answer the inquiries of the father 
 guardian, who had embraced this opportunity to 
 inform himself of the political relations of Spain, 
 which, as in so many other countries of our time, 
 manifestly stood in close connexion with the 
 church. 
 
 " Believe me, father g:uardian," continued 
 Ambrose, in his communication, " believe me, 
 it goes ill with the church in Spain, especially 
 with our order, which is in a bad way as long as 
 Don Carlos is not victorious. A shudder seizes 
 me when I recur to that time — to those scenes 
 of blood, from which I escaped with difficulty." 
 
 " Will the Christines, then — or however the 
 rebel party may clioose to call themselves — will 
 they acknowledge no church, no religion .'" 
 
 "" Religion ! church !" muttered father Am-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 39 
 
 brose ; " there is only one church — o>ir own ; 
 aiid I ciiniiot conceive what the Christines call 
 churcli, when tliey demolish monasteries, dis- 
 solve uur order, and compel us either to follow a 
 trade, or to carry arms, or they make shorter 
 work with us — they hang us up !" 
 
 " Hang us up !" exclaimed the father guar- 
 dian, while he involuntarily grasped his neck 
 and felt the collar of his cowl, as if he \Tould 
 convince himself that no cord was yet attached 
 to it. 
 
 " Yes, I assure you, the rebels made short 
 work; and there are yet particular parties of the 
 insurgents — the republicans, for example, who, 
 if not numerous, are still dangerous — wlio are as 
 severely persecuted by the provisional govern- 
 ment of Christina, as they both persecute us, the 
 followers of Don Carlos. This republican party 
 first broke out in France, as you may have heard. 
 France, you know, is a country which is sepa- 
 rated from Spain by the Pyrenees. That is a 
 rebellious nation, the French I — a bloodthirsty 
 people, the French — a savage" — — 
 
 " A savage r" interrupted the fathjer guardian 
 — ** cannibals, like the Botacudoes in Brazil, or 
 savages, lilie our Unitarians ?" 
 
 ** Not precisely cannibals, but savages, exactly 
 like these Unitarians, only it makes very little 
 diiierence whether men eat us or bury us when 
 we are dead ; we have no more feeling then ; 
 and it is loathsome enough, besides, to think that 
 we shall be eaten by worms, that are not even 
 men." 
 
 " Then the French are a wild, horrible people ? 
 savages, like the Unitarians, and live in Europe .'" 
 
 " In Europe," continued father Ambrose, 
 " to the north and east of the Pyrenees ; their 
 capital is called Paris— as, perhaps, you have 
 heai'd — the centre of all rebellion." 
 
 " Paris ! it seems to me that I have heard of 
 it," returned the other, slowly and meditatively. 
 
 " Among the French," continued father Am- 
 brose, " there were philosophers in the last cen- 
 tur) , who misled the people to think, and to 
 inhdelity and heresy." 
 
 " Philosopliers .'" inquired the father guar- 
 dian, " what sort of people are they .'" 
 
 " Heretics," replied the enlightened Spanish 
 monk ; " heretics, wlio can read and write, and 
 pxiblish books against the Pope." 
 
 " Books against the Pope ?" exclaimed the 
 other ; " and the government permits this ? 1 can- 
 not conceive that." 
 
 " Has not a rebel lately published here, poe- 
 try against Rosas, our lord and protector ?" 
 inquired Ambrose, smiling, coming to the assis- 
 tance of his brother's contracted comprehension 
 with an example. 
 
 " I have heard of that," answered the guar- 
 dian, hastily; " and the criminal has just been 
 shot. Urother Celeste has rendered him the 
 last services. I know it ; but he had the poetry 
 printed in Monte Video, not here, in Buenos 
 Ayres." 
 
 " It may be," said Father Ambrose, with a 
 smile; "the first works of the French philoso- 
 phers of the last century were, also, printed at 
 Amsterdam, a city in the Netherlands, governed 
 by heretics. To be sure, as soon as these books 
 were discovered in Paris, they were publicly 
 burnt by the executioner." 
 
 " Bravo !" cried the guardian, " I approve of 
 
 that ! and the heretics who wrote the books- 
 were they also burnt .'" 
 
 " Alas ! they were not ; some %vere put in 
 prison — others escaped, and were looked upon, in 
 the neighboring countries, as great men — and 
 from their philosophy, the idea of freedom was 
 developed in the French people, and revolution 
 broke out. Paris lay as full of men's heads, as 
 Buenos Ayres is of bullocks' heads. 
 
 " Shocking! shocking !" exclaimed the horri- 
 fied monk, "the French are real savages !" 
 
 " Yes ! but much remains to be told," contin- 
 ued fatlier Ambrose. " There was then a repub- 
 lic in France, and a little artillery lieutenant 
 made a comi)act with the devil, and pel'ormed 
 miracles of bravery through witchcraft, and was 
 advanced to be general, and took the Pope pri- 
 soner, and beat the armies of all the princes, who 
 wished to restore the sovereignty of the Pope, 
 and the kingdom in France, and became Em- 
 peror of the French, and married the daughter 
 of an emperor — the Emperor of Austria, an 
 empire witliout freedom, and composed of many 
 nations — and named his son ' King of Rome,' 
 and made his brother king of Spain. And los 
 Salvages Franceses, the French, came to us in 
 Spain, and then our monasteries would have 
 been abolished, if the British had not come to 
 our assistance, and re-established the holy Inqui- 
 sition among us." 
 
 " Oh the British ! los Itiglises," cried the fa- 
 ther guardian ; " I know thern ; they are the 
 friends of our Rosas ; they call themselves gen- 
 tlemen, and wear patent gloves. They are here- 
 tics, though, as I hear, who do not bow before 
 our crucifix, nor take oflT their hats when they 
 pass by a church." 
 
 " There are, it is true. Christians in England, 
 Catholics," remarked father Ambrose ; " one en- 
 tire British race is Catholic, and lives on an 
 island, and is used when England is at war, for 
 they are brave soldiers ; but in peace they are 
 hated and persecuted, even to blood, and only 
 exist through sufferance — and are merely per- 
 mitted, as a favor, to pay taxes, and tithes, and 
 be honored by the acceptance of their money." 
 
 " What then is properly the religion of the 
 British, or English?" asked the guardian. 
 
 " The religion of the British is Politics, and 
 their church is the Exchange," replied the other, 
 with peculiar earnestness ; " and these same 
 British, who once reinstated the Inquisition 
 amongst us, now support our Christi?ios, our 
 rebels, because their ' religion' makes it appear 
 advantageous to them. It is to be hoped, how- 
 ever, that Don Carlos will succeed, and restore 
 our monasteries, and then the English will again 
 stand up for the Inquisition." 
 
 " A very convenient religion, is the British, I 
 must acknowledge," remarked the father guar- 
 dian, after a pause, ; " but tell me now, honestly, 
 father Ambrose, is that all true, which you have 
 related to me concerning the little lieutenant ? is 
 that a true legend .' Did the little lieutenant 
 really live ? and did he take the Pope prisoner — 
 our holy father ?" 
 
 " All that I have related to you, is positively 
 true," affirmed the Spaniard. 
 
 " And what became of the imprisoned Pope * 
 how was he again set at liberty ?" 
 
 " When the ' little corporal,' as his soldiers 
 called him, wished to become emperor," con-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 40 
 
 tinued the monk, lie became reconciled with 
 the church, and with the Pope, and with the 
 nobility, and restored all that the republic had 
 overtlirown, and had himself crowned and an- 
 ointed emperor bv the Pope." 
 
 " How so ? the same little corporal, who once 
 took the Pope prisoner, allowed himself to be 
 crowned and anoipted by the Pope .'" 
 " As I tell you." 
 " I cannot understand it." 
 " Nor 1." 
 
 " And what became of the little corporal, 
 who made himself emperor .'" 
 
 Ambrose delayed his answer, and at length 
 said, "It is a long story, and there are books- 
 profane books, to be sure— which treat at large of 
 the history of tlie little corporal ; I have not 
 read any of them, but 1 have heard about them. 
 All the kings and princes of Europe combined 
 togetlier to destroy the little emperor, and they 
 succeeded, after much slaughter and bloodshed ; 
 and when the little emperor found himself for- 
 saken and disarmed, he fled on board an English 
 man of war, as a passenger, and sought an asy- 
 lum with his bitterest enemies ; and the English 
 betrayed liim, and carried him prisoner to alonely, 
 rocky island, wliicli bears the name of a female 
 eaist, between South America and Africa. And 
 he, who would once conquer the whole world, 
 was, as a man, content with overcoming himself. 
 He who had once formed alliances with empe- 
 rors and kings, was content with the alliance of 
 a friend, who remained faithful to him in his 
 misfortunes. And so he died— without church 
 penanf-e— and lies buried in unconsecrated 
 ground— upon that rock there, in the ocean, that 
 bears the name of a female saint. It is a pity 
 that he did not become a monk in his youth ; he 
 would have been able to effect more for the 
 church than the saint of all saints, our Igna- 
 tius Loyola, ever did." 
 
 A long pause ensued. The father guardian ap- 
 peared absorbed in reflections, whose nature he 
 indicated by the question, " Do you believe tliat 
 our Rosas has ever heard of the history of the 
 little corporal >" , . 
 
 The Spanish monk could hardly restrain his 
 laughter, and assented to the probability of this 
 supposition. 
 
 " The little corporal was lieutenant, you say .' 
 " And became emperor," said the other, in a 
 very low and expressive tone. 
 
 " Our Regent, Rosas, was a Gaucho,* and also 
 became general, and is equal to an emperor at 
 present. Do you not believe that the Pope 
 would acknowledge him as emperor, or as pro- 
 visional king, our Rosas, and crown him .'" 
 
 " I do not know that he would crown hun 
 personally, since the distance is so great, but 
 that he will acknowledge him as sovereign, will 
 certainly come to pass, and the coronation can 
 also take place, through our bishop. It will only 
 be necessary that Rosas should constantly follow 
 the example of the little emperor, and cause 
 every one to be shot who publishes a book 
 against him, as the little emperor also did— at 
 ' least he did so in Germany,! and people affirm 
 
 • Gauchos. the inliabitants of the pampas (plains) of 
 South America, near the Plata River— descendants ol 
 Spanish emigrants. 
 
 \ Falm, a publisher at Nuremberg. 
 
 that this proceeding contributed greatly towar<^^ 
 showing him worthy of the favor of the church.' 
 The guardian sank into profound reflection, 
 and then again took up the word. " Do you 
 think that our Rosas has heard of the treachery 
 of the British to the emperor of the French ? He 
 ou^ht to be warned of it, for the British ambas- 
 sador is so friendly with him. If Rosas trusts 
 himself to the British, it may happen to liim as 
 it did to the French emperor— what was his 
 
 name?" 
 
 Ambrose was just about to answer, as a !■ ran- 
 ciscan monk approached, with tolerably hasty 
 steps, and offered his ecclesiastical greeting from 
 a distance. It was Father Fernando. The guai-- 
 dian looked at him inquiringly, informing him- 
 self in anticipation, at a glance, of what had 
 brought the reverend pupil of the holy Francis 
 there so early. . . 
 
 After some humble preliminary remarks, he 
 brought forth his inquiries respectmg brother 
 CdcstG 
 
 The father guardian deliberately declared that, 
 so far as he knew, the reverend brother Celeste 
 had passed the night in the prison, with the con- 
 demned " enemy of Rosas," but without either 
 attendant or ciborium, since the criminal, in his 
 sinful obduracy, had refused to receive the sac- 
 rament, and that he had not yet returned. 
 
 The Franciscan gazed silently before him— 
 doubts arose in his mind, as the receipt of the 
 mass-money came in question, which had been 
 outrageously diverted from his monastery by the 
 stubbornness of the criminal, who had sent him 
 away, and chosen a monk from another monas- 
 tery. He was unable to suppress within himself 
 the injured feeling for his order, which appeared 
 more in his tone than in his words, wliile he 
 stood in dutiful humility, as a subordinate 
 brother, before the superior of a very rich 
 monastery, whose rank and corpulence claimed 
 all respect. He suddenly found himself m a 
 most singular- position. If he acknowledged the 
 probability that the condemned had received the 
 sacrament, he thereby clearly recognised the 
 ri.'ht of the monastery to the collection of the 
 mass-money. If he yielded to the assertion of 
 the father guardian, that no ciborium had been 
 taken from the monastery, and that the sacrament 
 had not been performed, then the right of col- 
 lection remained a doubtful matter, as the 
 church did not allow any one to read a death- 
 mass for a sinner who had refused the sacrament. 
 He repeated the assertion that three persons from 
 the monastery were seen in the prison at mid- 
 
 T'he father guardian considered this charge 
 a renew^ed insult to his order, and declared it 
 to be a fabrication which brouglit reproach ujion 
 his monastery, as if they would meanly enrich 
 themselves by urging a sacrament, and by a col- 
 lection, as its consequence. ,_,.„. 
 
 The three brethren of the cloister had strolled 
 through one of the alleys of the garden, and 
 through the cross-walk of the monastery, to the 
 front bnilding, where the father guardian caused 
 tlie lav brother to be summoned who bore the 
 ofhce of porter, and asked him, in a loud voice, 
 if brother Celeste had left the monastery on the 
 preceding night, alone or in company, with or 
 without ciborium ? The answer tended to the 
 most profound huiniliatiou of the Franciscan,
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 41 
 
 35 a contradiction of his assertion, and the father 
 guardian measured him from his forehead to his 
 sandals, with an expression almost of contempt. 
 " Strange !" remarked brother Ambrose, the 
 Catalonian monk, while a suspicious smile flitted 
 over his thin lips. " Strange I And so they 
 asserted in the prison that three persons from 
 our monastery were there last night ?" 
 
 " Three persons," repeated the poor Francis- 
 can, re-assured for ^the moment by this special 
 inquiry of the foreign brother, which, at least, 
 showed a certain faith in the validity of his asser- 
 tion. " Besides the reverend brother Celeste, 
 there was a younger brother, in the habit of the 
 order, and one of the watchmen of the monas- 
 tery, a negro, or mulatto — I cannot be certain 
 which. Nevertheless, Seiior Domingo, the war- 
 den of the prison, saw all three persons bodily. 
 I make no false assertion, and our monastery will 
 wiUingly renounce the collection of the mass- 
 money," added the wounded Franciscan. 
 
 " That is incomprehensible," began the Cata- 
 lonian, after a pause. 
 
 " Incomprehensible, certainly, but not un- 
 heard of in the chronicles of the cloister," affirmed 
 the father guardian. Are there not examples of 
 wonderful apparitions in the history of the mo- 
 nastic world ? and especially at midnight, and 
 particularly in the case of persons condemned to 
 death ? examples of revenants, and of multipli- 
 cation of individuals in chapels, or even in the 
 open street .' confirmed by the assertions of many 
 witnesses, as our archives relate, which record 
 wonderful facts and circumstances to the glory 
 and sancdficatiou of our order, to which has 
 been given the power to work miracles, since 
 the martyrdom of our sainted founder." He sud- 
 denly made the sign of the cross, and the other 
 monks and the lay brother devoutly did the 
 same. 
 
 " In what light stands brother Celeste in the 
 Refectory ?" inquired the Spanish monk, after a 
 pause, who, as the guest of the monastery, did 
 not seem as yet duly acquainted with the char- 
 acters of the individual brethren. 
 
 " In the odor of sanctity," returned the father 
 guardian, hastily and with pride ; " he is libra- 
 rian of our monastery, and aspirant to the priory, 
 in spite of his youth ; he takes upon himself, 
 with Christian humility, the subordinate duties 
 of the monastery— visits the sick in the meanest 
 hovels, and is untiring in his zeal for the exten- 
 sion of the only saving church, in his intercourse 
 with heretics and infidels of all sorts and classes. 
 He increases the number of Christians, through 
 proselytes from the upper ranks, and the reve- 
 nues of the monastery, by his personal exertions." 
 Father Ambrose listened with marked atten- 
 tion to this eulogiura of the young monk, as he 
 liad done to all that proceeded it, while he 
 seemed to pursue a train of ideas, whose contra- 
 dictory ellect expressed itself more and more 
 in his countenance, notwithstanding his eflbrts to 
 conceal his inward emotions. Father Fernando 
 received, with no less indifference, the inspired 
 words of the corpulent father guardian, in which 
 he saw but little prospect of gaining the proposed 
 object of his personal curiosity. 
 
 The Catalonian was just about to utter a query 
 in relation to the young monk's reputation for 
 sanctity, when there was a ring at the outer 
 gate, and the brother porter, who had, until now, 
 
 G 
 
 listened with open mouth, hastened to fulfil the 
 duty of his office. Celeste stepped over the 
 threshold, greeted those present, and walked 
 slowly past, apparently so deeply absorbed, that 
 he did not recognise the individuals of the 
 group, while each of them separately considered 
 him from his own peculiar point of inward con- 
 templation. All eyes accompanied the gmve 
 steps of the learned librarian, until he disap- 
 peared behind the distant pillars. The three 
 monks then silently looked at each other. 
 
 " Will you accompany me to the prison, reve- 
 rend brother .'" said father Ambrose, at length, 
 to the Franciscan, " I should like to speak to 
 the overseer of the prison 1" 
 
 " In the name of all the saints, whose exam- 
 ple unites us in monastic harmony, I shall con- 
 sider it a personal honor to conduct you wher- 
 ever your duty calls you." 
 
 At these words, confirmed by humble obei- 
 sance, father Fernando passed to the side of the 
 Spanish monk ; and both stepped over the 
 threshold. 
 
 — '^^^Vsr*^ ^ .^*^^^«« - 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 MR. JOHN WALKER AND CAPT. FINNGREEN. 
 
 Mr. John Walker sat early in the morning in 
 his private cabinet, near his office. It was a 
 small room, well furnished with maps and charts, 
 books and statistical tables, whose veritable Eng- 
 lish origin was recognised at the first glance. 
 He was a tall, well built man, with broad shoul- 
 ders. His head, from long habit, was a little in- 
 clined to the right shoulder ; from " long habit," 
 likewise, he generally kept the right one of his 
 clear gray eyes almost shut, when he conversed 
 with any one, whom he always observed the 
 more closely with the left, at the same time turn- 
 ing with his right hand his watch key, which 
 dangled from a gold chain. His dark hair, from 
 the efiect of years, and of various climates, was 
 here and there sprinkled with gray, while his 
 whole appearance indicated vital force and ful- 
 ness. He appeared unusually busy, and his as- 
 pect was peculiarly cheerful, for he had secrets 
 upon secrets to keep, and to expedite, and the 
 brilliant prospect of not being able, for months 
 to come, to retire to rest before two or three ' 
 o'clock in the morning, from the unavoidable 
 pressure of business, m regard to secrets. 
 
 " Captain Finngreen !" called a clerk, through 
 the half opened door. 
 
 " Let him come in here," returned Mr. 
 Walker, continuing the writing with which he 
 was so busily occupied. The clerk admitted the 
 person announced, and went out, shutting the 
 door. 
 
 " Good morning, captain ; how are you .' 
 Take a seat, captain," said Mr. Walker, in a 
 friendly manner, but without interrupting his 
 employment. 
 
 The captain was a well built, middle sized 
 man, as elegantly dressed as the steam progress, 
 ing civilization of England requires of men in all 
 parts of the world, in order to appear as gentle- 
 men.
 
 42 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 Even a layman in the province of pliysiofrnomy 
 could not avoid remarliiiig that he was a son of 
 the ocean, a ship captain, while the acute ob- 
 server, cng^iged in the study of the difl'erent races 
 of men, wonldhavo recognised his Scandinavian 
 oiigin in the peculiar traits of his regular 
 Icatures. 
 
 Captain Finngreen delayed, for a monaeut, to 
 take the seat pointed out to him ; he wallved up 
 to a chat of tlie coast of Africa, and endeavored 
 to study it, while, in spirit, he was busied on 
 board of his " Nordstjeriian," and, in fact, gave 
 little heed to the object which covered a portion 
 of the wall. 
 
 At Icnglh Mr. Walker sealed the letter which 
 had, until then, claimed his attention, wrote the 
 address, laid the steel pen in its usual place, 
 with tile point towards him, turned tlie upper 
 part of his office chair and himself round 
 towards the ca])tain, and pointed out to him the 
 chair near himself, which waited to receive him. 
 " All on board, captain !" inquired Mr. John 
 Walker, with a friendly countenance, after hav- 
 ing again informed himself of tlie health of his 
 visiter; " all the passengers on board ■" 
 
 " \\' hen I lelt the brig, yesterday, there were 
 only two passengers on board, besides your 
 clerk," replied the captain, deliberately seating 
 himself " The young Spaniard, or South Ameri- 
 can, arrived there the day before yesterday, and 
 the foreigner, about whom I cannot make up my 
 mind, came yesterday. The young lady who 
 has the honor to pass for your daughter, or, at 
 least, for the sister of Mr. Robert Walker, was to 
 be taken on board tliis morning, in my own boat ; 
 I have given up my cabin to her, according to 
 agreement, and will do my best to make the 
 voyage as comfortable as possible to her. I wish 
 we could only once get safely out of the river 
 again, without being visited." 
 
 " There is no danger of visits," said Mr. 
 Walker, smiling — "none at all; the officers 
 visit no ship here when she is once cleared. It 
 is not here as in Rio de Janeiro. To be sure, 
 war often makes exceptions to the rule ; some- 
 times a cutter comes up with an outward bound 
 ship — othcers go on board, examine the pass- 
 ports, and seek for some patriot who may have 
 fled ; nevertheless, if even that should take 
 place, the secret on board the Nordstjernan 
 would remain undiscovered." 
 
 " God grant it !" returned Captain Finngreen, 
 with a deep sigh, drawing his stool nearer to 
 Mr. Walker. " Pardon me, Mr. Walker, there 
 are some things on board which are not stated in 
 the manil'est. Pcrliaps these were forgotten." 
 
 " How so, captain .' how so .' forgotten .' I do 
 not know what they can be," replied the Briton. 
 " You know, Mr. Walker, there are two snvall 
 boxes of miiier;ds on the manifest," continued 
 the captain, "the only ones that I have taken 
 for any house here. I protested against it a long 
 time, and would not take the boxes on board. 
 There is war between Buenos Ayres and Monte 
 Video, and I must be prepared for jirivateers 
 and cruisers under all sorts of Hags. 11" a priva- 
 teer, or man of war from Monte Video should 
 board me, and examine my manifest, and find 
 goods from Buenos Ayres, no matter what, they 
 would think that tho boxes contained gold or 
 diamonds, or some such valuables ; they will ex- 
 amine them, detain me, and confiscate my vessel 
 
 in the bargain. There was a Danish brig lately 
 brought into Buenos Ayres as a prize, which 
 had weapons and ammunition on board for 
 Monte Video ; it was English property under a 
 false firm, but the bark was confiscated. If I 
 were to inform my owners that my Nordstjernan 
 had been confiscated on account of two boxes of 
 pebbles, or whatever else they may contain, they 
 would liardly conceive how I would resolve to 
 take them on boaril ; nevertheless, I have dis- 
 cussed that matter long enough with your son, 
 who insisted on taking the boxes with him. I 
 made the condition, that I should see the ten- 
 ants, and assured myself that they were, in reality, 
 worthless stones; minerals for a museum, of no 
 especial value. I am glad to do you a favor, 
 and would not refuse your son's request, but now 
 comes the point. Instead of two boxes, there 
 are, all at once, four boxes on board I God knows 
 how the last two got there. My two mates pre- 
 tended not to know who brought them, and the 
 matter is unexplainable, for the two extra boxes 
 are marked just like the others. The thing does 
 not please me — I am captain of my brig, and am 
 answerable for brig and lading. I have asserted 
 my right on board, as captain — I have caused the 
 chests to be opened and searched, in the pres- 
 ence of your clerk, and have carefully closed and 
 sealed them again ; they are precious stones — 
 rubies and emeralds, Mr. Walker ! precious 
 stones, Mr. Walker — and I take it very ill of 
 you, that you thus put my brig and cargo in dan- 
 ger by contraband goods. The name of your 
 house is too respectable for me to have appre- 
 hended it !" He spared the head of the respecta- 
 ble house an humiliation, and confined — " the 
 thing does not suit me at all, Mr. Walker, and 
 I must insist that the two boxes be immediately 
 removed from on board, or if not, then I will 
 throw them overboard myself; so you may take 
 your own course, and do as you like." 
 
 Mr. Walker had listened to the Swedish cap- 
 tain of the Nordstjernan, with the same friendly 
 smile, leaning his head on one side, as before, 
 and turning and re-turning the watch key, ac- 
 cording to his old custom, without in the least 
 losing his selfpossession, or giving a sign of any 
 other mental emotion, than approbation and de- 
 light. 
 
 " All right ! all right captain," he repeated 
 with peculiar satisfaction, " all right captain; I 
 perfectly understand you ; I am entirely of your 
 opinion ! With regard to the two boxes, I must 
 inform you tliat they are no concern of mine ; 
 this affair has nothing at all to do with the 
 respectiibility of my house. The two boxes of 
 mini-rals are shipped by a house here — a house 
 little known, it is true — an entirely unknown 
 house; but my son, Mr. Robert Walker, knows 
 the circumstances, and is answerable for thera. 
 I will speak to him about them. He will soon be 
 here, to take leave, before going on boai-d. 1 will 
 mention the matter to him, you may rely upon 
 it. I agree with you entirely in respect to the 
 danger of your being overhauled by a cruiser or 
 |irivateer from Montevideo, on the lookout for 
 goods from Buenos Ayres. It is, in fact, an in- 
 teresting risk ! it is a secret of solid value ! an in- 
 teresting secret I You have one privateer to fear, 
 tlie 'Mazzini;' she is a famous corsair ! — com- 
 manded by a Genoese, Seiior Barigaldi, under the 
 Oriental Hag, with the flag of ' Young Italy' on
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 43 
 
 the foremast. This is a famous craft ! a misera- 
 ble little schooner ! I would not bid a thousand 
 dollars for her, if she were put up at auction, 
 she is such a walnut shell, with six cannons, 
 and five and twenty men, all Italians, all Geno- 
 ese. He is a bold fellow, that Baris;aldi ! Con- 
 demned to deatli in Italy as a patriot, he accom- 
 panied the famous expedition of Savoy in 1S3I, 
 of which you may have heard ! He is an amazing 
 fellow ! a dangerous fellow ! a furiniis cor- 
 sair ! rash enough to attack an Argentine cor- 
 vette, to say nothing of a Swedish brig ! He 
 cruises there, between Cape St. Antonio and the 
 Rio Grande, and watches the mouth of the La 
 Plata, as a hawk does a dovecot. You will be 
 very likely to get a sight of the nutshell, with 
 the Italian flag at the foremast." 
 
 Captain Finngreen appeared by no means edi- 
 fied by this imposing representation of the dan- 
 ger to which he exposed himself, by having the 
 least portion of Argentine goods among his la- 
 ding, not to mention the secret of a considerable 
 amount of contraband on board his brig. Ob- 
 scure as the affair had been to him from the 
 first, it became more incomprehensible from 
 the singular composure and satisfaction with 
 which Mr. Walker described the danger. It 
 very naturally did not occur to him, that this 
 very case resulted from a " passion for secrets ;" 
 which found in the subject of discussion an ex- 
 haustless source of disquiet and anxiety, and as 
 it were, delighted itself v^ith the anticipation of 
 the sleepless nights which this shipment must 
 inevitably cause. 
 
 The captain, at last, interrupted the pause 
 that followed, by saying, "'Pardon me, Mr. 
 Walker ; I desire that you will immediately give 
 orders to have both the extra boxes sent on 
 shore, since you so clearly perceive the danger 
 to which I expose myself. I cannot conceive 
 why you did not before explain to me the diffi- 
 culties which awaited me; for then I would not 
 have received on board the first two boxes of 
 paltry minerals — at least, not as Argentine pro- 
 perty. Mr. Walker," added he, " I have no 
 more time to lose ; either you must send some 
 one on board to receive the boxes, or — or I 
 shall do as I have said — I shall relieve myself 
 fi-om all accountability, and make short work." 
 
 ** I will speak to my son about it," rejjlied the 
 other, " you may rely upon it ; you may entirely 
 compose yourself with regard to the respectability 
 of my house ; it has never yet been compro- 
 mised, and would not have been in this case. I 
 regret that the matter does not concern me at 
 all ; it is the affair of a young man, an acquain- 
 tance of my son, who has, as I suppose, begged 
 this favor of him." 
 
 "1, as a ship captain, am also obliging," 
 returned captain Finngreen, " and have made 
 many sacrifices to oblige persons, which liave 
 been poorly requited; but every thing has its 
 bounds, and if my brig should be confiscated in 
 Brazil, or here in the road, then your son would 
 refer me to the Spaniard, whose name, to be 
 sure, is on the manliest, but will hardly be tbund 
 in any baptismal certificate — at least, my ac- 
 quaintances here know nothing of such a firm." 
 
 Mr. Walker pulled the bell-rope ; a negro en- 
 tered, whom he ordered to bring a bottle of 
 champagne and some glasses, 
 
 " I hope that the young lady got safely on 
 
 board," began Mr. Walker, throwing his left 
 leg over the right knee, and playing con-amore 
 with his watch key. 
 
 " My people waited until half-past one, at 
 your country house, and I was very fearful that 
 she would not come ; but then she came, thank 
 God ! I say thank God, although I do not know 
 her situation. I know from you that it is very 
 necessary she should go hence, and that she is a 
 very honorable young lady, belonging to a family 
 of high standing. Whatever I may risk by 
 having her on board, is of no import; if she is 
 in danger, and perhaps in danger of her life, I 
 am not the first ship captain that has saved a 
 human life — a head on which a price was set, 
 whether by the Emperor of Russia, the Pope, or 
 Rosas, who, as it seems, is both Emperor and 
 Pope here ; but I will have nothing to do with 
 smuggling, Mr. Walker !" 
 
 The negro came with the wine and glasses, 
 drew the cork, poured out the wine, and left the 
 cabinet. " Here's to the health of your passen- 
 gers," said Mr. Walker, handing a glass to the 
 captain ; " the interesting young lady, and her 
 cousin, the young painter. A lucky voyage to 
 the Nordstjernan ! That Horatio is a charming 
 young man, but very bashful and modest. He 
 might pass for a girl. He had two uncles here, 
 brothers of his father ; they were both staunch 
 republicans, opponents of Rosas ; one was be- 
 headed two years ago, and the other " He 
 
 interrupted himself, and hastily replenished the 
 glasses. " It is a very odd tiling, this suff^ering 
 one's self to be beheaded or shot for patriotism, 
 for freedom, and fatherland — it is a very ticklish 
 thing, is it not, captain ? It is not every one 
 who would have done it, or allowed it to be 
 done, when the alternative was placed before 
 him, of retaining his property, and living very 
 comfortably at a distance, on condition that he 
 would wear the red riband of Rosas before his 
 departure from Buenos Ayres, and — and mention 
 a name — and" 
 
 " And let another be shot in his stead, you 
 would say, Mr. Walker ; I understand it ; I can 
 imagine such things, and for the present, desire 
 to know no more ! but I assure you, that if the 
 young lady or her cousin were in danger of be- 
 ing beheaded or shot here, by order of Rosas, 
 and it depended upon me to save them — I would 
 risk my life to do it, although 1 have a wife and 
 children at home — it is my natural feeling." 
 
 " Bravo ! excellent !" hastily replied Mr. 
 Walker, " noble principles, captain ! it is a pity 
 you are not an Englishman — those are real Brit- 
 ish sentiments ; you ought at least to sail under 
 the British flag — to command an English ship." 
 
 " Thank you for your compliment, iVIr. 
 Walker," rejoined the Scandinavian ; tliank you 
 for your confidence. As regards the British 
 flag, I should hardly have had the honor to be 
 freighted by you, as the captain of an English 
 ship." 
 
 " Certainly — certainly — that is quite another 
 point," said Mr. Walker, laughing; " it might 
 have been the case, notwithstanding. You 
 Swedes, to be sure, sail for very reasonable 
 freight ; but ships of other nations are obliged 
 to follow your example from time to time." Mr. 
 Walker appeared to desire, as the freighter of a 
 snip, to avoid the near contact with this pai-tic- 
 ular point in the shipping trade. It must very
 
 44 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 naturally have suited him, that Swedish vessels 
 reduced the freight, from time to time, in all 
 parts of the world, from the fact that they stood 
 upon a proiiortionably cheaper footing than 
 many others. The excess of wood and iron in 
 Sweden, the low wages for labor, the low price 
 for liviiig, the low monthly wages at sea, the ex- 
 cess of seamen from the position of the countries 
 of the north, and the inclination of all coast 
 dwellers, to a seaf.iring life — all these circum- 
 stances combined to efl'ect the depreciation of 
 freight, by the Swedish captains. 
 
 ** Besides," observed Captain Finngreen, ** it is 
 probably universally known that your English 
 captains are not particularly careful with respect 
 to their rigging. An English captain keeps his 
 deck in perfect order, but his care does not ex- 
 tend beyond tlie deck ; he concernshimself little 
 about the cargo, when he has once taken it in, and 
 still less with what is above his head. An English 
 captain uses up and ruins more rigging and sails 
 in one year, than one of us in five. The owners 
 must renew what is worn out, the sail makers in 
 England must live, and the sovereigns must cir- 
 culate ; John Bull is fat, and must haveexercise." 
 
 As much as an Englishman prefers his own 
 country to all others, just as little does an Eng- 
 lish merchant hesitate to employ foreigners, in 
 preference to his own countrymen and seaman, 
 when it is his interest to do so, and agreeable to 
 the dictates of hisjudgement. Seldom as an Eng- 
 lishmen enters on board a foreign vessel a^ pas- 
 senger, young Mr. Walker had merely resolved, 
 under the peculiar circumstances, to go as passen- 
 ger to Rio de Janeiro, with Captain Finngreen. 
 
 A young dandy, whose countenance resembled 
 an unfilled bill of exchange, entered the cabinet 
 of his principal, with the announcement that 
 the captain's jjapers were in order, whereupon 
 both left their seats, and emptied a farewell glass 
 to a sale arrival at the destined port, " And to 
 better freight," added the captain — the well 
 known appendix of a ship captain to the Lord's 
 prayer, of whatever nation he may be. 
 
 " I shall not lose another word about the two 
 boxes," said captain Finngreen, in a low voice, 
 to Mr. Walker, as they left the cabinet. " I 
 have told you my views and intentions about 
 them, and release myself from all responsibility. 
 I shall know, at all events, how to maintain my 
 position on board as captain." 
 
 "All right, all right," replied Mr. Walker, 
 smiling, and clasping the Swede on the shoul- 
 der, while lie courteously allowed him to go be- 
 fore, and pushed him through the door of the 
 cabinet into the office, where a half dozen young 
 gentlemen were occupied in the consumption of 
 English ink, and English paper, and English 
 steel pens. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 smuggler's fancies. 
 
 Captain Finngreen was by no means satis- 
 fied with the " all right" of Mr. Walker. He 
 signed the last document, added to the last sig- 
 nature his usual flourishes and dots of embel- 
 
 lishment, laid the pen deliberately aside, sti^ck 
 the papers in a colossal pocketbook which 
 could hardly find a place in the inside pocket of 
 his visiting coat, and looked inquiringly at the 
 old Englishman. 
 
 " Now Mr. Walker the shallop whicli I have 
 bespoken lies there ready," said he, breaking 
 silence, during which the latter regarded the 
 seaman with his left eye, his head being inclined 
 over his right shoulder. " I shall expect my 
 passenger, Mr. Robert Walker, on the Mole in 
 an hour, with bag and baggage, with all that 
 is yet to go on board ; and a man from your 
 house who will take the two boxes in charge." 
 
 The old chief smuggler betrayed a little em- 
 barrassment at this announcement of the cap- 
 tain in the presence of the persons in the office. 
 The look and emphasis, however, with which it 
 was made, convinced him at once that he had a 
 man before him, who understood no jesting in 
 serious matters. He led the captain into his 
 private room again, raised his head a little 
 higher, into nearly a perpendicular position, left 
 his watch key at rest for the moment, and began, 
 in a low in voice — 
 
 " But, captain, how the devil do you expect 
 me to get the boxes on shore again .' Was not 
 that a master stroke to bring the two boxes of 
 Chili stones so far without duty ? To bring 
 them safely from Chili over the boundary with- 
 out duty ? And safely from here on board 
 without duty ? I will bet you captain, that the 
 boxes shall reach St. Petersburgh free of duty ; 
 be safely disembarked at St. Petersburgh with- 
 out duty !" 
 
 It is all one to ' me," grumbled captain Finn- 
 green, " but not in my brig, from here to Rio." 
 
 " But just think, captain, it is not so much on 
 account of the paltry duty, it is not to save a few 
 hundred dollars at each frontier — who thinks ot 
 that .' it is for the sake of the afiair ; for the 
 sake of the secret ! It is only on account of 
 the anxiety and disquiet which await me until 
 the boxes are safely in St. Petersburgh ; and 
 calculate yourself how long it must be until I 
 can receive the advices !" 
 
 The seaman appeared to wish to lose no time, 
 by being drawn into the passion of the old mo- 
 nopolist of secrets. 
 
 He took out his watch, cast a hasty glance at 
 the hands, put it up as hastily, and made a move- 
 ment for an immediate departure. Mr. Walker 
 seized him by the arm, and repeated what he 
 had before said, but the captain remained un- 
 shaken in liis resolution, and declaimed once 
 more — 
 
 " Well Mr. Walker, I have not another min- 
 ute to lose, I must yet go to the ship chandler's ; 
 if none of your people accompany me on board, 
 who can take charge of the boxes, I shall throw 
 them overboard ; you can then complain of me to 
 my consul, or wherever you will. My name is 
 Finngreen ; my vessel is called " Nordstjernan." 
 
 " iVow, then, cajjtain, do you know what .'" 
 whispered Mr. Walker, in the greatest haste; 
 " you can deliver the boxes to my clerk, Mr. 
 Daily." 
 
 " For my part, it is all the same to me, which 
 of your people you send on board with me." 
 
 " He IS now on board." 
 
 " How so ; have you sent some one on board 
 already .'"
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 " CeHainly — Mr. Daily, who sails with you ; 
 he is the most adroit clerk I have ever known in 
 my business. 
 
 " He remains here, then ? and you say that he 
 sails with me ! How am I to understand that ?" 
 
 The old man drew near the captain, laid botli 
 hands on his shoulders, and whispered, "Captain, 
 captain, only understand me ri^jhtly ; you de- 
 liver the two boxes to my clerk, Mr. Daily, who 
 is on board, and imagine that Mr. Daily has gone 
 ashore in the shallop,with the boxes, and imagine 
 that Mr. Daily and the boxes are no longer 
 on board when the shallop leaves you. Call 
 Mr. Daily, Mr. JVig/itli/, if you choose, as long 
 as he is on board ; persuade yourself that he is 
 not Mr. Daily, that ne is quite another clerk— 
 and a prosperous voyage to you. Rely upon Mr, 
 Daily — I can plaoe full confidence in him; that 
 is my man ! he's a genius ! I tell you, captain, 
 he is able to make the two boxes vanish from on 
 board, and neither you, nor I, nor any one else, 
 shall know where they are." 
 
 " You are in good humor, Mr. Walker ; spare 
 your jests for your dinner. Farewell." 
 
 He pushed the old humorisfs hands rather 
 roughly from his slioulders, repeated his fare- 
 well with dignity and politeness, and departed, 
 before Mr. Walker could collect himself to lay 
 hands on him again. 
 
 ■^y.MN^^^-^^'^^Ar'^— 
 
 CHAPTKR XIX. 
 
 PRIVATE INSTEUCTIONS. 
 
 •' Obstinate fellow !" grumbled old Mr. 
 Walker to himself, evidently not a little per- 
 plexed by the resolute demeanor of the sea- 
 man. He reflected for a moment, and rang the 
 bell. 
 
 " Tell McGaul to come in here," said he, to 
 the clerk who now entered. 
 
 McGaul appeared ; a systematic man of busi- 
 ness, and besides, a so called " clever fellow," 
 who knew how to take his way " round the cor- 
 ner" in order to attain an object under peculiar 
 circumstances. Mr. Walker now whispered 
 eoftly in his ear, what would here interest us 
 less than it did him. 
 
 " I understand, I understand," interrupted 
 McGaul, from time to time, during the commu- 
 nication of liis principal, " I will do my best — 
 you may rely upon me," and at length left the 
 cabinet as hastily as he had entered it. Hardly 
 had Mr. Walker taken his place at the desk, 
 when a young man, in a travelling dress, entered 
 in " flying haste," stepped up to him with the an- 
 nouncement, '* Now, father, I am ready," threw 
 himself on a stool, and his legs one over the other. 
 
 This was Mr. Robert Walker, the hopeful son 
 of the house, usually called by his father, wlien 
 speaking to him, " Bob, my boy." Bob was one 
 of those youthful figures which occasionally 
 proceed from the great workslxop of nature, to 
 serve, as it were, for models of fine forms. Bob 
 was universally acknowledged a handsome 
 youth, and through a certain natural unreserve 
 of manner, was justly beloved in the circle of his 
 acquaintance. He was about twenty-three years 
 
 old, and already a perfect man of business, 
 as is general in England, or among Englishmen, 
 where there are only boys and men. Without 
 the transition period of youth, (which, among 
 other nations, is the most delightful in life,) the 
 English boy suddenly enters upon the business 
 path of his earthly calling, at least into a prac- 
 tical life, which he, for the time, considers his 
 calling. Mr. Robert, when a boy, had come 
 with his father from England, from the British 
 atmosphere, in a British ship, with a transplan- 
 tation of British comforts for South American 
 ground. He had, of course, never left his British 
 element, while he grew up a real Briton. 
 
 Mr. Walker arranged a packet of letters and 
 papers, which he had laid aside for the impor- 
 tant expedition of his son, while the young man 
 took up an English penknife, and corrected the 
 rounding of the nail on the little finger of the 
 left hand, in order to leave something on shore 
 which would be superfluous on board. 
 
 " In a moment. Bob, my boy," cried Mr. 
 Walker, with a hasty nod of the head, and re- 
 peated, " in a moment." He then arranged some 
 other packets, letters and papers, subscribed 
 some more documents, laid them with the others, 
 and at last turned around in his chair, towards 
 the youth, who, with admirable coolness, in this 
 important moment of departure from his father's 
 house, was using his penknife, as if nothuig re- 
 quired his attention so much as the trimming ot 
 his finger nails. Mr. Walker placed himself in 
 position, threw the right leg over the left knee, 
 dropped his head sideways, drew down his right 
 eyelid, began his favourite amusement with his 
 hand on his watch key, and spoke, saying — 
 " Bob, my boy, you have just come in time to 
 hear my instructions and admonitions, many of 
 which, to be sure, I have written out sy.stemati. 
 cally on some of these sheets, that you may read 
 them on board. Here Bob, my boy, ' Private In- 
 structions !' here is the document, the most im- 
 portant (excepting the general letter of credit 
 in your name) which the packet contains. I 
 shall previously detail to you some points and 
 rules by word and mouth ; and what 1 say to you 
 to-day, in taking leave, will sei-ve you as an Eng- 
 lish appendix to the proverbs of Solomon, as a 
 fragment of an English Jesus, the son of Sirach. 
 " Mark my words. Bob, my boy, I have not lived 
 in vain for fifty years, and gathered wisdom, 
 that is to say, money. Bob, my boy, mark this, 
 first of all, wisdom is money, for without money, 
 wisdom is nonsense. You go out into the world, 
 as the son of John Walker & Co., as the son 
 son of Mr. John Walker, 1 would say, and as the 
 representative of our house, John Walker & 
 Co. ; mark that, my boy ! know your worth, 
 inasmuch, as you represent the name of our 
 house, and the worth of your father is valued in 
 you. You know what I am worth ; it is known 
 on ' 'change ;' all Buenos Ayres knows it; all 
 England knows it ; all the world knows it ! I 
 mean the business world, for there is no other 
 world of any consequence. 
 
 " ' What is he worth .'' men will ask, when 
 they speak of you ; and you may well feel your 
 worth. ' Feel' is a poor word , we do not require 
 feelings. You may reckon your worth, I will 
 say ; in short, you know your worth. ' Faith 
 works salvation, and credit brings business ;' I 
 hold on to the ' credit,' which I make over to you.
 
 46 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " Consider three things, Bob, my boy, and these 
 three things are one, they are the British trinity. 
 Consider first, that you ai'e an Englishman' — sec- 
 ondly, that you are Bob Wallver — and thirdly, 
 that you are a gentleman ; and each of these, 
 singly, embraces the whole in itself. Remember 
 tliat all mankind are arranged in two classes, 
 Englisiimen and foreigners ; the foreigners are, 
 to be sure, separated into various classes, as, for 
 instance, Dutchmen, Frenchmen, Indians, Irish- 
 men, Gipsies, Scotchmen, Hottentots, Negroes, 
 Americans, Cannibals, and so forth, but they 
 are all foreigners. Always consider that you 
 are a Briton, and that Britain is where you are. 
 As a Briton, you are the centre on which 
 the world turns. The destiny of man upon 
 earth is * to make money ;' and the means to this 
 end are business, business ! Bob, my boy, re- 
 member that. 
 
 " There have been different periods in the his- 
 tory of the world, in which an idea prevailed. 
 An idea ! what is an idea ? Just the reverse of 
 reality. Will a pawnbroker lend you sixpence 
 upon an idea ? What is reality .' This — this is 
 reality !" Mr. John Walker drew a sovereign 
 from his vest pocket, held it bet^veen the thumb 
 and forefinger of his right hand, towards his 
 hopeful son, and repeated, " this, here ! this is 
 reality. Bob, my boy ! 
 
 " There was an epoch, in which men suffered 
 death for the sake of an idea — they called it 
 'faith,' ' religion ; the Catholics did so in their 
 wars for the Holy Sepulchre ; nonsense ! There 
 was another epoch, when men attached value to 
 art, and poetry, and philosophy ; nonsense ! ar- 
 rant nonsense ! There was also an epoch when 
 men named this fixed idea, ' honor;' and even now 
 there are foreigners who allow themselves to be 
 killed for the idea honor. What is honor witli- 
 out money r nonsense. Bob, mr boy ! nonsense ! 
 Can you express honor in round numbers .' The 
 world has grown older and wiser ; mankind have 
 descended from the ideal world to reality. Men 
 know the worth of money, and tlieir own worth 
 in money. That is the quintessence of all the 
 practical philosophy of our century ; mark that. 
 Bob, my boy ! Maintain tliis position firmly, 
 and never forget your wortli ; tliat is to say, your 
 father's worth, which passes over to yon, and 
 which will be increased when the great cash 
 book of my life shall be closed, vi'hen 1 shall 
 make over my whole worth to you, and with m} 
 bills of exchange, drawn on eternity, shall be 
 thrown upon the mercy of God." He sighed at 
 these words, looked upwards, and continued, 
 " In our times nothing is easier than to know the 
 worth of a man, or to obtain an answer to the 
 question in respect to a man, 'What is he worth ?' 
 CiU'ry your worth, tlion, steadily before your 
 jjes and in your head, and take care that you do 
 not compromise yourself — that you do nothing 
 inconsistent with your I'espectability. Never 
 forget that you are an Englishman, and manifest 
 your nationality in opposition to all foreigners. 
 But keep at a distance from all Englishmen in 
 foreign countries, so long as you do not know 
 their worth ; you know what tliat means. Never 
 compromise yourself by associating with any 
 person wiiatever, whose worth is doubtful, or 
 lor wliose respectability you have no references. 
 
 " Love Britannia, our Uld England, and all that 
 It contains and produces ; but be iudititjrent to 
 
 all Britons, when they do not enter into business 
 with you. Wear nothing which is not English, 
 and of English fashion ; go bareheaded rather 
 than wear a hat which is not of English manu- 
 facture. Wear no coat whi("h is not made of 
 English cloth, by an English tailor, or, at least, 
 by a tailor in London. Write not a line except 
 with English steel pens, or with goosequilla 
 prepared in England, lor all that you use of 
 British manufacture promotes British industry. 
 Remember that, Bob, my boy ! Be a commercial 
 man, not only because you are Robert Walker, 
 but be a commercial man as a Briton. Consider 
 all commerce, from your position as a Briton, 
 who has the whole world at command, as an 
 article of commerce. Hate foreigners, but love 
 foreign countries, for they serve as a market for 
 the exportation of our manufactures, and employ 
 our custom houses in the transmission of them. 
 " The basis of all speculation is Politics. Poli- 
 tics are a fine business. By politics I do not 
 understand the chase after a seat in parliament ; 
 that belongs to ambition I Ambition and busi- 
 ness are of different natures, and one often ruina 
 the other. Politics, Bob, my boy, are the great 
 world trafSc, a sort of privileged slave trade, 
 the traffic with men ; with nations black or 
 white, all the same ! This great world traffic is 
 carried on with state papers, and embraces the 
 money market. Understand me right. Bob, my 
 boy. As all human worth is reduced to money, so, 
 very naturally, the gold trade and the man trade 
 are all one. Thus, if you are ruined in fortune, 
 you are also ruined as a man, since you have 
 lost your worth. Games of hazard witli cards 
 aj-e prohibited, but the great game of hazard 
 with state papers is not only allowed, but pro- 
 moted by all governments, and those who gov- 
 ern often play the higliest. This game of haz- 
 ard, is the highest attainment of human eHbrt in 
 our times ; it is played for the ai-ticle man, as 
 for sixpences and shillings ; whole nations are 
 pledged, as they pledge a watch at the pawn- 
 broker's, but with the difference, that the nations 
 must redeem themselves, and must pay tlie in- 
 terest besides, while the gi'eat pawnbrokers' 
 tickets (state papers, or stocks) pass from hand 
 to hand, and many, alas ! become in reality 
 worthless, like pawnbrokers' tickets after the 
 expiration of tlie time; as, for instance, when 
 the nation gets certain ideas in its head, and 
 will not redeem them, will not pay the interest 
 Such cases are critical events in trade they usu- 
 ally show themselves as revolution, rebellion, 
 and the fatal, fixed idea, in tlie people, which 
 brings on such a crisis, is most generally the idea 
 of freedom. Mark that. Bob, my boy, and main- 
 tain your conservative principles — I mean mine, 
 wliich I have infused into you. Conservative 
 principles stand opposed to liberalism. Both may 
 be simply explained. Conserve what you pos- 
 sess, seek to increase your possessions, and avoid 
 liheralism, that is to say, liberality, generosity, 
 whether it be in sentiment or in material sacri- 
 fices ; both contradict the conservative principle, 
 as well as the mercantile principle, and evidently 
 lead to ruin. But if generosity must be practised, 
 be rather generous in feeling than in expenses. 
 In a political crisis there is always a wide field for 
 speculation. Rebellion and revolution, in tliem- 
 selves, likewise offer < good business — an ex- 
 cellent business, espei ially for us Britons, of
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 47 
 
 whom alone we are speaking. Every rebellion 
 requires weapons, and our Britannia requires 
 consumption, exportation, for such articles. 
 Have we not done a splendid business here in 
 South America; a brilliant business ! with both 
 parties, as well with the Unitarios as with the 
 Conl'ederackis .' Have we not made a portion of 
 our property by the delivery of weapons to both 
 parties .' and with the traffic in the papers of 
 pledged nations, which we threw off at tlie right 
 time, before this or that nation threw off the 
 chains of this or tliat despotism. What pro- 
 tects the liouse of Walker & Co., from danger 
 and from loss .' thoroughgoing routine in busi- 
 ness. Politics ! politics ! Bob, my boy, are an 
 excellent business ! but they must be studied ! 
 mark that, and follow the e.vample of your 
 father. Trade is calculation; politics, as busi- 
 ness, are the higher mathematics of commerce — 
 mark that. Bob, my boy! We English are a 
 merchant people, a commercial nation, and as 
 such, tlie first nation in the world. As a com- 
 mercial nation, we must be conservative ; a lib- 
 eral trading people would be a contradiction in 
 itself. We are free, and we are religious; very 
 free and very religious. Bob, my boy. But we do 
 not speak here of freedom and religion as prin- 
 ciples, but as articles ; as articles of tralBc in 
 circulation among us Britons, but only among 
 Britons. Britannia's freedom is a gift of Provi- 
 dence to the chosen British nation, an inheri- 
 tance that must remain in the family. It is an 
 original painting which we must preserve, and 
 of whicli we must only sell copies to other na- 
 tions. Mark that. Bob, my boy ! Britannia is 
 he mistress of tlie world ! ' Rule Britannia ! 
 Britannia forever !' As the sovereign power of the 
 world, we bestow the title of freedom upon 
 other nations, black or white, whenever we find 
 it our interest to do so. We give to foreign 
 slaves the title of British subjects, without fun- 
 damentally altering their position. We help 
 kings and princes to crowns and thrones, and 
 stamp them as sovereigns, because we icnow the 
 worth of a ' sovereign ;' and foreign princes are 
 British subjects, without even making a claim to 
 the title. If we regard freedom as a principle, 
 and not as an article, not as our family inheri- 
 tance, we must grant it to all nations, and see a 
 rival power to our rule over the world start 
 up in every free nation. We would thereby 
 s-ign our act of abdication of our sovereignty 
 over the world. ' All Europe may be reduced 
 to slavery, as long as Britannia's freedom only 
 shines, and our world wide traffic extends itself,' 
 said Mr. Roebuck, one of our members of Parlia- 
 ment, a short time since ; and he struck the nail 
 on the head." We have lost many of our colo- 
 nic sin North America, and, at the present time,* 
 they spealv with evil forebodings of Canada. 
 It is the fixed idea of freedom, which tlic people 
 Have taken into their heads, and thus despise all 
 
 • The year 1S38. 
 
 the endeavors of our missionaries, who preach 
 resignation and submission to the sceptre of Old 
 England ! Bob, my boy, beware of republican 
 ideas, of democratic principles, for they stand in 
 direct op]>osition to our position and our busi- 
 ness as Britons. Britannia is only Britannia as 
 a monarchy ; and I repeat, that in the acknowl- 
 edgement of the principle of national freedom 
 lies her sentence of death." Mr. Walker took 
 hold of his watch chain, and then felt in his vest 
 pocket and pulled out his gold watch, looked at 
 the minute and second hands, and continued : 
 " Mark my words. Boh, my boy, be always, and 
 everywhere, an Englishman, a merchant, and a 
 gentleman, and hold fast to English fashions, as 
 to English principles, and English articles. As 
 to our fashions, 1 have nothing further to say 
 to you, except this, remain as you are, and 
 what you are. As you have learned to eat and 
 to ride after the English fashion, observe Eng- 
 lish fashions, henceforth, forever and every- 
 where. Do not lose yourself in intercourse with 
 foreigners, and do not allow yourself to be led to 
 adopt foreign customs. Ride no foreign horse — 
 never mount any other than an English race 
 horse ; and above all, do not allow yourself to 
 be smitten with foreign beauty — the worst snare 
 in which you could ever fall. 
 
 " Remember constantly. Bob, my boy, that an 
 Englishman who marries a foreigner, or uses 
 any other article of foreign industry, is outlawed, 
 and rightly so, since he commits high treason 
 against his nationality, and against his national 
 industry. Let his wife be who she may, or what 
 she may, she is, and ever remains, a foreigner, 
 and that is enough, her ofl'spring will be half- 
 breed. Never leave a room without gloves, but 
 wear no gloves that were not made in England. 
 At table, especially, forget not to let people 
 know that you are an Englishman before you 
 have finished the first course. Never put the 
 point of a spoon nor a knife to your mouth, 
 never ! never ! Never take a fork in your right 
 hand, except when you eat apple pie or plum 
 pudding. Never be persuaded to wear a mous- 
 tache, or to allow your beard to grow, ' a la jeune 
 France !' never ! it is shocking ! shocking ! 
 Shave yourself. Bob, my boy — shave yourself 
 twice a day, and never let your beard stand over, 
 miless in one case, namely — if you should hap- 
 pen to lose your English shaving apparatus, and 
 would be obliged to use a foreign razor ; in that 
 case only, let your beard grow for the time. 
 
 " And now. Bob, my boy, farewell, and write to 
 me soon, on English paper, with English pens." 
 
 Mr. John Walker rang, and a servant entered — 
 while Mr. Robert Walker rose, and stuck the pa- 
 pers into his pocket. Notwithstanding the ap- 
 parent indillerence with which he hud at first 
 listened to this lecture of private instructions, 
 many words appeared to have made a deep im- 
 pression upon him. Seriously and in silence he 
 shook hands with his father, and hastily left the 
 cabinet to make his final arrangements
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 BOOK II, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE DANGER. 
 
 The Swedish brig, " Nordstjernati," displayed, 
 on the morning of the opening day, her yellow 
 and blue flag, as the signal of her approaching 
 departure. The crew was busied in that " regular 
 confusion" which always characterizes the deck 
 of a merchant ship, when about to sail. Here 
 and there sounded the " yo heave ho," of some 
 of the sailors, who, with one accord, hung the 
 whole weight of their bodies upon a rope, to 
 bring the tackle into the right position and or- 
 der, the deficiencies of which would only strike 
 the practised eye ot a seaman. 
 
 Soren, the cook, a robust Jutlander, from the 
 Cymbrian peninsula, was scolding in his syllable 
 swallowing provincial Danish dialect, at Ottar, 
 the cabin boy, a lank young F'inn, from Abo, 
 whose father wore Russian irons in Kamtschatka, 
 because he, as ship captain, had once conveyed 
 a Pole from Riga to England, who was destined 
 for Siberia. Soren insisted that the long Ottar 
 had intentionally thrown a herring into the 
 coflee, which he had cai'efully set aside for him- 
 self, from the mate's breakfast. Ottai-, to main- 
 tain his innocence, in his increasing animation, 
 made use of so many Finnish words, with his bro- 
 ken Swedish, that Soren became more excited, 
 because he could hai'dly understand him, and at 
 last threw the subject of dispute at his head ; 
 but, missing his aim, the cofi'ee soaked herring 
 flew past Ottar, upon the quarter deck. 
 
 " Halloo !" cried Lars, the saiimaker, at work 
 lear the mainmast, '" there comes a flying fish — 
 ut it flies out of a pot instead of into one, as is 
 he case sometimes." 
 
 " Ottar ! Ottar '. rejoice that Soren is not the 
 Emperor of Russia, he would send you, on the 
 spot, to your father in Kamtschatka." A com- 
 mand of the first mate sent the saiimaker out 
 on the bowsprit. 
 
 Ottar's lean visage was almost brought to tears 
 at the injustice of the cook, while Soren availed 
 himself of the Swedish language, in order to 
 curse right heartily, and sent a " hundred thou 
 sand barrels of devils," after the poor youth, as 
 tlie latter hurried to his business in the caljin. 
 Swend Roluffs, a young sailor and a wag, by 
 nature, who had played this trick on the cook, 
 laughed aloud at the wry face with which he 
 
 7 
 
 drank the salted coffee, " that it should not be 
 wasted." 
 
 Corinna, one of those slender figures of Ethi- 
 opian beauty, whose narrow waist and swelling 
 roundness many Europeans might envy, softly 
 left the apartment of her mistress, and appeared 
 in the cabin, busied in overhauling the baggage, 
 assisted by Achilles, whose eyes, red with weep- 
 ing, could scarcely distinguish the objects before 
 him. She wore, over her light modern cloth- 
 ing, a piece of black shawl-cloth, about two 
 yards wide and six long, which tlie negresses of 
 South America know how to throw around them 
 with peculiar taste, after the Ethiopian fashion, 
 like the drapery on antique statues — in such a 
 manner, that it covers the upper part of the 
 body, with one end passing over the left shoul- 
 der, and hanging down the back in wide folds. 
 A cloth of dazzhng whiteness covered her head, 
 and was tightly drawn down to her eyebrows, 
 forming a turban of cylindrical shape, intention- 
 ally contrasting with tlie dark brown color of 
 her face, of which the serious expressive Minas 
 features displayed pain, grief, and sympathy, 
 for the afflictions of her mistress. A string of 
 pearls of some value, with a plain gold cross, 
 adorned her neck and breast, as a memorial of 
 the mother of Dolores — whose unhappy destiny 
 now removed her from the paradise of her child- 
 hood, on the banks of the La Plata. 
 
 Her father, Achilles, remained sunk upon his 
 knees before an open trunk, unable to select the 
 objects which Corinna was to take to their 
 jdaces in the inner apartment for the comfort of 
 the voyage. Without knowing what his hands 
 took hold of, he stared at his daughter, whils 
 the big tears that rolled down his furrowed 
 cheeks, gave a vent to his feelings. " Father ! 
 father '." said Corinna, in her Ethiopian tongue, 
 wiping away his tears, *' compose yourself, 
 father. Father, do not weep ; for the white 
 slaves of Rosas may yet come on board, and see 
 us ; and if they observe that we are melancholy 
 and disconsolate, they will suspect, and the 
 Senora's life be in danger. Father, think of 
 Seiiora Dolores, and do not weep." 
 
 " 0, Corinna !" sobbed the old man, " I do 
 think of the Seiiora, and it is, therefore, I weep 
 Dolores ! Dolores !" he sobbed, and folded hii 
 hands, and stretched them out before him. 
 
 " Compose yourself, father !" cried Corinna, 
 louder, with an almost threatening voice ; " the
 
 50 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Senora is in danser through our tears." Slie 
 dried tlie old man's tears with iier sliawl, and 
 after a pause, said, witli forced composure, 
 " Give me the box with the little vials of medi- 
 cine, father;" and both endeavored to assume 
 the indifference of deportment which the occa- 
 sion required, as much as their troijjieki state of 
 mind opposed their efforts. 
 
 Horatio, who, until then, had sat m a comer 
 of the cabin, sunk in reflection, and appeared 
 like one petrified, approached old Achilles, laid 
 his hand on his shoulder, and whi.ipered in his 
 ear, " Compose yourself, Achilles ; we shall soon 
 go to sea, and the murderers of my relatives will 
 no more overtake ug." 
 
 How far the youth believed in a happy and 
 undisturbed departure, is uncertain ; he sought, 
 at least, to infuse that momentary confidence 
 into his weaker minded companions, which the 
 circumstances of the case required. 
 
 " Be calm ! be calm !" sighed Achilles, softly, 
 to himself; " yes, be cold and calm ; yes, cold 
 and calm as_the grave of your uncle, and as the 
 grave of Senor Sebastian, your father! I will 
 be quiet and dumb, for Rosas reigns ! Rosas, 
 who, for his first murder, caused his teacher to 
 be killed, when he entered upon his government 
 the second time, caused him to be killed in his 
 presence ! Rosas ! Roses ! a million curses on 
 his guilt-laden head !" said he, gnashing his 
 teeth, and staring before him. The intensity 
 of these curses, as they flowed from his livid lips, 
 formed a singular contrast with the benignant 
 expression of the gentle youth, who, as Mr. 
 Walker had before observed, was like a woman, 
 but who, notwithstanding, betrayed neither de- 
 ficiency of character, nor irresolute weakness. 
 
 In Horatio a childish, inoffensive disposition 
 appeared, which sought, with conciliating love, 
 to embrace life and the world, like the bud of a 
 flower, bursting open before it was moistened by 
 the poison dew of worldly corruption. 
 
 As deeply wounded in his inmost soul, as a 
 mortal can be, by the murder upon murder of 
 his relatives, and broken hearted by their fate, 
 which he regarded as a consequence of the sub- 
 jugation of his people, he yet maintained his 
 confidence in the human heart, his faith in man- 
 kind, and from these drew his hope for the future 
 in relation to the freedom of his fatherland. 
 
 Notwithstanding this gentleness, which proba- 
 bly descended to him as a costly inheritance on 
 the part of his mother, his inward nature was by 
 no means deficient in that moral strength, which 
 is developed andsustained in the human breast bv 
 an early and severe conflict %vith misfortune and 
 suffering, and which rises, proportionably, the 
 more we are burdened with sorrows and grief 
 
 Achilles handed to his daughter the little 
 box of medicine which she sought, whereupon 
 she again returned to the apartment of her mis- 
 tress, while the old man mechanically removed 
 the different articles of baggage that were before 
 him. 
 
 Horatio added a few more words of encour- 
 agement, ag;iin clapped tlie old man cordially 
 on the shoulder, and then betook himself to his 
 former place, on a sofa, in a corner of the 
 cabin. 
 
 The stranger, about whom Captain Finngreen 
 had not yet " made up his mind," (as he had 
 declared to Mr. Walker,) was also busily occu- 
 
 pied, during the passage of (his scene in the 
 cabin, in repacking some trunks, and in making 
 himself as comfortable as possible. Among his 
 unpacked effects, were to be seen seamen's cloth- 
 ing for various climates, also a sextant, some 
 charts, a marine sword, which was not too long 
 to pass for a dagger, and lastly, a bundle of 
 flags of a singular construction. They were 
 strips of the usual bunting, about a yard wide, 
 and some tivo and a half yards long, of various 
 colors, and some with pai-ticular marks. These 
 single strips were set lengthwise, with eyelet 
 holes about hvo inches apart. On the flagstaff 
 side was a piece of sail yarn, somewhat longer 
 than the stuff, with metal points, so that two or 
 three of these strips could be fastened together 
 in a few minutes, which then formed a con- 
 venient signal flag. 
 
 If Horatio had been in a state of mind to direct 
 his observations towards the stranger, it would 
 not have escaped him, that he sought out the 
 separate flag strips from different pockets of his 
 garments, and from various bundles, and brought 
 them into a certain systematic arrangement. Why 
 this system of concealment hud been adopted, 
 whether the voyager found these portions of an 
 " airy symbolism" useful to ward off, or, at least, 
 render difficult the visitation of watchful authori- 
 ties, is undetermined. 
 
 In contrast with such ocean gear, the voyager 
 carried horse pistols, a bridle, spurs, horse trap- 
 pings, a cavalry sabre, a Russian kantschu, and 
 a blunderbuss, (musketoon,) which, accordin" 
 to the muzzle, might convenicntlv serve as a 
 piece of artillery on board of a corsair. No 
 inference could be drawn with regard to the social 
 position of the voyager from the titles of the 
 books, in various languages, which lay round 
 about him. 
 
 Notwithstanding the interconrse which had 
 casually taken place behveen Horatio and him- 
 self, on the previous night, the stranger con- 
 tinued to maintain the distance which tact made 
 necessary, and which harmonized with his na- 
 ture. But this tact, which proceeds from inter- 
 nal development, and is distinct from stiff 
 resene, by no means interdicted him from a 
 lively interest in the scene, of which he once 
 more became a witness. 
 
 Difficult aa it had been for him on the last 
 night to clothe his sympathy in expressions, it 
 became harder still for him now to assume a 
 tone of intercourse, for the purpose of entering 
 into conversation. He was, for the present, to 
 regard the events of the past night as a dream, 
 smce he must know nothing of the appearance 
 of the young lady, whose incognita indicated the 
 danger to which she was exposed. 
 
 The stranger, who appeared on the captain's 
 passenger list by the name of '0. O. Hinango,' had, 
 since that meeting scene, felt himself involun- 
 tarily dra%vn towards the youth, by the myste- 
 rious bond of the attraction of the soul, while his 
 position required, for the present, apparent 
 distance. He sank into reflections upon the 
 situation of man towards man, in consequence of 
 the civilization of our century, and while thus 
 busied in thought, he arrived' at the following 
 conclusions : 
 
 The more egotism and treachery become dan- 
 gerous to the cause of the freedom of all nations, 
 and but too frequently undermine it, the mora
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 51 
 
 personal and material interest guides the acts 
 and endeavors of men, the more does the man 
 who is penetrated by a higher idea and nobler 
 sentiments, appear to the world, in our era, 
 either suspicious or ridiculous, a designing rogue, 
 or a visiqnary madman, an " enthusiast." 
 
 The more seldom true patriotism, enthusiasm for 
 truth and freedom, self sacrifice from conviction, 
 manifest themselves, the more frequently does 
 the world consider the higher endeavors of men 
 «ither as the absurd consequence of a so called 
 " fixed idea," of a " boundless vanity," or as the 
 thoroughgoing, sly calculation of a common 
 speculator, who seeks to carry out, under such a 
 mask, a concealed plan of selfishness at the ex- 
 pense of others. 
 
 Tlie rarer the appearance of a man of noble 
 nature, capable, from conviction, of any sac- 
 rifice, the greater danger does he incur when 
 he desires to act, of being misconceived in his 
 higher endeavors, of being considered and treated 
 by egotists as one of themselves. Instead of love 
 to man, which, as a religious duty, should lie at 
 the foundation of all the intercourse of man with 
 his fellow men, mistrust has become the first 
 condition of judgement in the so called daily 
 intercourse of the world. 
 
 The more faith in the human heart becomes 
 ■endangered by treachery and deceit, the more 
 does suspicion become the duty of the unfortunate, 
 who is exposed to treachery. The idea attached 
 to the word " man," loses its value after the bond 
 of humanity becomes decayed, after faith as a 
 religious principle sinks into a low materialism, 
 which even seeks to make a business of " reli- 
 gion." 
 
 The so called " reasonable man" of our time, 
 does not even believe in the heart of man, when 
 it bleeds in the struggle for the cause of hu- 
 manity. Egotism judges all the appearances 
 around it, alter itself; it mistakes and despises 
 exalted ideas and noble sentiments, because it 
 cannot comprehend the former, and is unable 
 to entertain the latter. Our age is the epoch 
 of infidelity and indifference — and mankind 
 "would sink into materialismT if, from the seed- 
 cup of the hearts of some individual men, there 
 tlid not, as it were, pass over to a future gene- 
 ration the seed-pollen of the conception ot a 
 higher idea. 
 
 Hinango continued to pack and arrange his 
 effects, and uttered, from time to time, an indif- 
 ferent remark about wind and weather, and cabin 
 and ship, as if he had not even seen the youth 
 the night before, and did not know who occu- 
 pied the captain's state room, through the door 
 of which the negress went in and out. The 
 youth replied to these detached remarks in the 
 same tone of conventional courtesy, without be- 
 ing drawn from the chaos of his reflections and 
 feelings. 
 
 " Probably you know this book !" inquired 
 Hinango, after a long pause, handing him a duo- 
 decimo volume. " De Lamenais — Paroles d'un 
 Croyant," read Horatio, while he took the book 
 with a friendly nod ; " 1 have read it in Spanish ; 
 I hear it is translated into many European lan- 
 guages." 
 
 " No book of our time has reached the hearts 
 ol the nations of Europe with such a ray of elec- 
 tric light," replied Hinango ; " but in England 
 it found no public." 
 
 " Why not ?" inquired the youth ; " how do 
 you explain that .'" 
 
 " Because faith in mankind, in the resurection 
 and deliverance of the nations, upon the basis of 
 nationality, and in the spirit of humanity, re- 
 mains foreign to them. 
 
 " The 90 called higher classes in England, 
 would take the less interest iu such a book, be- 
 cause it defends the cause of mankind — it treats 
 of the sufferings and the misery of the peo})le, 
 to which the proud Briton is indifl^erent. The 
 Englishman is an egotist ; he feels no interest in 
 any thing that does not concern his own per- 
 sonal affairs and business, and therefore takes the 
 less interest in the miseries of others. England 
 is divided into Sects, and every sect is a quaran- 
 tine bar against humanity. The more man sur- 
 rounds himself with the forms of a particular 
 sect, the more his spirit becomes enchained — his 
 heart shrinks within himself, repelling the feel- 
 ings of humanity, which regards every people 
 as a family of mankind, and each individual as 
 a man. In England, the man without money is 
 a non-entity — the People, ' canaille,' and man- 
 kind, a phantom. Even glorious philanthropy 
 has become the Phariseeism of the privileged 
 classes, ostentatiously distributing alms before 
 the public, to keep the misery of the people at 
 a distance from them. 
 
 " England regai'ds freedom as a monopoly ,while 
 the British nation itself lies yet more deeply 
 sunk in misery, under the yoke of the aristoc- 
 racy and of the manufacturers, than many others, 
 and cannot even now comprehend the spirit of 
 love which breathes through this little book." 
 
 " You are undoubtedly in the right," rejoined 
 Horatio. Even here, in South America, we have 
 no great confidence in the freedom we should 
 obtain through British protection. For myself, 
 1 regard the book as the gospel of the future, as 
 a prophetic appearance in the history of man- 
 kind." 
 
 " As such, it has also become known," in- 
 terrupted Hinango, "in spite of all the material- 
 ism which despises this word of faith." 
 
 The youth took up the book, and read, partly 
 aloud, the beginning of a chapter which acci- 
 dentally came to his eye : 
 
 " When you see a man led to prison, or to 
 the scaffold, be not in haste to say, ' That is a 
 wicked man, who has committed a crime against 
 mankind ;' for perhaps he is a righteous man, who 
 would have rendered a service to his fellow men, 
 and who is therefore punished by their oppres- 
 sors. 
 
 " When you see a people lying in chains, and is 
 given up to the executioner, be not in haste to 
 say, ' That is a violent people, that would disturb 
 the peace of the earth ;' for perhaps it is a mar- 
 tyr people, that suffers for the welfare of man- 
 kind ! 
 
 " It is now eighteen centuries since the high 
 priests and kings of that time, in a city of the 
 East, scourged with rods, and then nailed to the 
 cross, a rebel, a blasphemer, as they called him." 
 
 Horatio, penetrated by the light of the godlike 
 idea that lies at the foundation of humanity, 
 gazed fixedly before him, then rousing himself 
 from his revery, he turned over the leaves of the 
 little book, and read silently to himself: 
 
 " And I saw the evils that have come upon 
 the earth ; I saw tlie weak oppressed ; the
 
 52 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 righteous begg:ing his bread ; the wicked raised 
 to honor and abounding in riches ; the innocent 
 condemned by unjust judges, and his children 
 wandering about on the face of the earth. And 
 my soul was sad, and hope poured out of it on 
 all sides, as from a broken vessel. 
 
 " And God sent me a deep sleep. And I 
 saw, in my sleep, a form of light, standing near 
 me, a spirit whose soft and piercing look pene- 
 trated into the depths of my most secret 
 thoughts. 
 
 " And I shuddered, not from fear, nor from 
 joy, but from a sensation as of an indescribable 
 mixture of both. And the spirit said to me, 
 ' Wherefore art thou sad .'' 
 
 " And 1 answered, weeping, • Alas ! behold the 
 sufferings that are upon the earth !' 
 
 " And the heavenly form began to smile with 
 an ineftable smile, and the following words 
 reached my ear : ' Thy eye sees only through 
 the delusive mirror that men call time. Time 
 is only for thee ; for God there is no time.' And 
 I held my peace, for 1 understood not. Sud- 
 denly the spirit said, ' Behold !' and while there 
 existed for me, from that time, neither ' Before' 
 nor ' Afterwards,' 1 saw in the same moment, and 
 at once, what men, in their feeble and imperfect 
 language, call ' past, present, and future ;' and all 
 that was only one ; but in order to tell what I 
 saw, I must descend again into the lap of time, 
 I must use the imperfect and feeble language of 
 man. 
 
 " And the whole human race appeared to me 
 as a single man. 
 
 " And this man had done much evil, little 
 good; he had experienced many sorrows, and 
 few joys. And there he lay, in his wretched- 
 ness, upon earth, now frozen with cold, now 
 burning with heat ; there he lay, pining, starv- 
 ing, suffering, oppressed with a faintness min- 
 gled with convulsions, bound down with chains 
 that were forged in hell ; his right hand bur- 
 dened his left, and his left the right ; and, tossed 
 about by his evil dreams, he had so rolled him- 
 self up in his chains, that his whole body was 
 covered with them, and locked together. 
 
 " And that was man ; 1 recognised him. And 
 behold, a ray of light went out from the east, a 
 ray of love from the south, a ray of strength from 
 the north ; and these three rays united in the 
 heart of this man. 
 
 " And as the ray of light went forth, a Toice 
 said, ' Son of God, brother of Christ, know what 
 thou should'st knov? !' 
 
 " And as the ray of love went forth, a voice 
 said, ' S6n of God, brother of Christ, love Whom 
 thou should'st love I' 
 
 " And as the ray of strength went forth, a 
 voice said, ' Son of God, brother of Christ, do 
 what should be done !' 
 
 " And wlien these three rays had united, the 
 three voices united, also, and they formed one, 
 which said, ' Son of God, brother of Christ, 
 serve God, and serve him alone !' 
 
 " And what had seemed to me as one man, 
 now appeared to me as a multitude of people 
 and nations. And my first look had not deceived 
 me, and my second also deceived me not. 
 
 " And these people and these nations, avraking 
 upon their beds of anguish, began to say, among 
 themselves, ' Whence come our sufferings and 
 our feebleness; and the hunger and the thirst 
 
 that torment us ; and the chains that bend US 
 down to the earth, and press into our flesh .'' 
 
 " And their understandings were opened, and 
 they comprehended that the sons of God, the 
 brethren of Christ, had not been condemned to 
 slavery by their father, and that slavery was the 
 source of all their evils. Each one of these 
 sought to brealt his chains, but no one suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 " And they considered each other with great 
 sympathy, and love was manifest in them, and 
 they said among themselves, ' We have all the 
 same thoughts, why should we not have the 
 same heart .' Are we not all the sons of the same 
 God, "and the brothers of the same Christ .' We 
 will, then, be saved together, or die together.' 
 
 " And as they said this, they felt in them- 
 selves a divine strength, and I heard the fetters 
 break, and they fought " 
 
 ^tr**f4't'^^^rrftii 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 PASSENGERS. 
 
 Horatio read the last words half alond, more 
 and more slowly, and with a subdued voice; he 
 let his hand, which held the little book, fall 
 upon his knee, as if wearied, and gazed upon the 
 stranger with an expression of bitter grief, while 
 a sad smile flitted over his lips. 
 
 Hinango returned the glance of the sufferer 
 with the ray of sympathy, which shines forth 
 from the most secret depths of the soul, and re- 
 veals, more eloquently than words, each emotion 
 and ebullition of the feelings. He divined the 
 youth's grief, who experienced the consola- 
 tion of sympathy, for its own sake, while the 
 position and relations of the stranger remained 
 to him an impenetrable riddle, whose solution 
 led him into a labyrinth of conjecture, which 
 became more obscure, the more deeply he lost 
 himself in it. 
 
 The first mate opened the cabin door, conduct- 
 ing in a passenger who had just come on board, 
 and was, in external appearance, " the most per- 
 fect gentleman" that ever trod a cabin floor as 
 passenger. He was a slender, youthful figure, 
 with a strikingly regular face, whose peculiar 
 form reminded one of antique beauty, vrhile it 
 wanted the intellectual expression which eno- 
 bles many less handsome countenances. 
 
 This was one of those stereotyiie figures of 
 the civilization of our century, elegantly dressed 
 from head to foot in the last fashion — a walking 
 clothes stretcher, which might have found a 
 situation before the shop of any merchant tailor, 
 to exhibit the latest fashion to the passers by. 
 
 The young man looked round him witli all 
 the self consciousness of respectability, while 
 the mate went on with the sentence which he 
 had begim on entering the cabin, to point out to 
 the passenger his berth. 
 
 Two sailors followed with his baggage, which 
 was, like his dress, of English manufacture 
 throughout : trunk, carpet bag, writing desk, 
 dressing box, etc., of the well known " stereotype 
 edition," as we find them on board of steam and 
 packet ships, set in motion by means of Briti»h
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 53 
 
 machines, which, under the British or any other 
 flag, cruise the waters of all parts of the world 
 —a reprinted edition, as it were, of the British 
 fashions. 
 
 Mr. AVilhelm Rossbriick representative and 
 son of the far famed house of H. W. C, and 
 M. R. B. Rossbriiclv and Co., of one of the for- 
 mer " Hanso Towns," would rather, in a case of 
 decided necessity, have travelled without any 
 baggage, than to have carried even one trunlc, 
 whose British origin was not to be known at the 
 first glance. 
 
 There was, as a matter of course, upon each 
 trunk or box, a brass plate, with the name of 
 " William Rossbriick, Esq.," in real English 
 round letters. 
 
 The name of Rossbruck in itself, caused the 
 young gentleman or '* Esquire" continual unea- 
 siness, real sorrow of soul. 
 
 Mr. Rossbriick had long desired nothing more 
 earnestly than to get rid of this unfortunate 
 German stamp, to translate it literally, as 
 " Horsebridge," — in order that he might proudly 
 step forth, in English travelling costume, as 
 William Horsebridge, Esquire. 
 
 But, alas ! this, just and reasonable desire of a 
 young man, who acknowledged the imperative 
 necessity of the " only respectable making" Eng- 
 lish fashion, could not be so easily fulfilled, for 
 manifold reasons. By such a translation, for 
 instance, he would lose his connexion with the 
 firm, which was, in a degree, in the circle of his 
 acquaintance, the basis of his personal respecta- 
 bility. 
 
 Mr. Rossbriick's features manifested, from time 
 to time, an expression of melancholy and de- 
 pression, which many ladies considered as sym- 
 toms of an '• unfortunate love." This expression 
 of melancholy, which soon disappeared when 
 the locomotive of his business calculations was 
 set in motion, proceeded from one single source 
 
 his name. 
 
 The fatal German name imposed a rigid bound 
 to all the efforts and sacrifices of his Anglo-ma- 
 nia, which he, in his best will, could not once 
 overstep. 
 
 Mr. Rossbriick cast a glance at the two pas- 
 sengers whom we have particularly described 
 above, and said what he had occasion to say to 
 the mate in English, to which the latter replied 
 in German. 
 
 The "would be English gentlemen" drew on 
 his black patent gloves, from time to time pressed 
 them down between the fingers — and inquired, 
 among other things, after a box of wine, which 
 had been sent on board the day before. The 
 second mate was called to give an account of it. 
 It appeared that the said box had been put tem- 
 porarily in a cabin between decks. Mr. Wil- 
 liam Rossbriick wished to satisfy himself of the 
 vicinity of his spiritual travelling companion, 
 and was conducted to the indicated spot, in 
 which were arranged some state rooms, for pas- 
 sengers of inferior rank. 
 
 This visit to the between decks, disturbed a 
 passenger in important business. It was Mr. 
 Habakkuk Daily, the before mentioned clerk of 
 the house of Walker & Co., who had taken up 
 his quarters there, because, very naturally, it was 
 not suitable that he should inhabit the same cabin 
 with the son of the house. 
 Mi: Hab' Daily (as he generally subscribed 
 
 himself for shortness sake) was a square built, 
 robust fellow, with a cheerful, round counte- 
 nance, blinking gray eyes, coarse black hair, and 
 whiskers to match, which reached from his tem- 
 ples to the corners of his mouth, in the refrac 
 tory inflexibility of a hedgehog's bristles. He 
 was just driving a nail in one of the four boxes, 
 which had been given to his especial care, and 
 stood near his luggage — among which appeared 
 two large trunks, covered with ox hides, and 
 made, according to South American fashion, high 
 and narrow. This form appears suitable to the 
 purpose, since the baggage, for the most part 
 transported by mules, is fastened to their sides, 
 and, calculated for being carried through narrow 
 mountain passes, is made to occupy the least 
 possible breadth. Besides, the height or depth 
 of the trunks would occasionally serve for a very 
 good purpose to their owner, who had ordered 
 tliem for a voyage, and had caused the interior 
 to be carefully provided with a false bottom and 
 concealed drawers. 
 
 " What can 1 do for you, Mr. Hem .'" said Mr. 
 Daily to the mate, Mr. Storhjelm, whose name 
 he would willingly have pronounced correctly, 
 if its genuine foreign sounds had not, unfortu- 
 nately, escaped him, notwithstanding he had 
 spelled it over many times to himself. He seated 
 himself at these words, comfortably, upon one 
 of the high trunks, and played with the hammer, 
 as if he had not thought of any thing serious for 
 a year and a day. 
 
 " Are you looking for something, Mr. Hem .'" 
 inquired he, hastily, without awaiting the an- 
 swer to his first question. 
 
 " Nothing but the box of wine there," returned 
 Mr. Storhjelm, pointing to the object of search, 
 which Mr. Rossbriick recognised, to his great 
 content, and at the same time cast a contemptuous 
 look upon the clerk and the articles surround- 
 ing him. This look was intended to demon- 
 strate the great indifl^erence with which a real 
 gentleman observes all appearances around him. 
 " A pinch of snuft', Mr, Hem ?" inquired Mr. 
 Daily, while he, in his peculiar hasty manner, 
 drew a silver snuff box from his pocket, opened, 
 and handed it to the mate. The latter was too 
 much occupied by the urgent business of the day 
 to be able to bestow suitable attention and reply 
 to his ceremonial offer. He muttered some words 
 of thanks, without interrupting the conversation 
 with the young gentleman, buried the point of 
 his forefinger in the sneezing powder, and cai'- 
 ried it rather awkwardly to his nose, not being a 
 proficient in this fine art. 
 
 " Mr. Storhjelm !" cried the loud voice of the 
 long Ottar, down from the deck. " Mr. Stor- 
 hjelm, there is a boat coming! And there is 
 an> ither, that seems to be coming towards us !" 
 
 .^t this announcement, the mate and Mr. 
 Rossbriick hurried on deck. " That is the pas- 
 senger, the German Doctor, or herb gatherer, or 
 whatever he is !" grumbled Mr. Storhjelm, to 
 himself, while he directed his eye to the nearest 
 boat, which the cabin boy pointed out. 
 
 " Brig ahoy!" sounded from the boat, after 
 some moments; "is this the Swedish brig for 
 Rio de Janeiro ?" 
 
 " This is the Swedish brig Nordstjernan, for 
 Rio de Janeiro," answered the mate ; " wliether 
 there is another Swedish brig bound to Rio, I do 
 not know."
 
 54 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 The boatman declared, in the English lan- 
 gnage, with a Spanish accent, that the passenger 
 he brought had not been able to tell whether the 
 vessel which he sought was a brig, a bark, or 
 a schooner. 
 
 " Is not this the vessel that I was on board 
 off" inquired a little man, in the stern of the 
 boat, who had, by this time, attracted the eyes of 
 all those present on the deck of the brig. The 
 little man appeared like a colossal brown wood 
 beetle, with a thick and almost square head, set 
 upon a very small neck, and with proportionably 
 small, thin legs. His very old hat was deco- 
 rated, on the inside and out, with beetles, of all 
 sorts and sizes, stuck upon pins ; while his brown 
 overcoat was covered, from top to bottom, like a 
 travelling arbor, with branches of trees, leaves, 
 creeping plants, and flowers of all sorts — part 
 stuck in the buttonholes, and part carefully 
 fastened to his arms and neck with packthread. 
 In his right hand our little man held an uprooted 
 young tree, with a fresh top, some feet higher 
 than himself, and which had, apparently, been 
 taken from the earth but a short time ; in his left 
 hand was a large cigar box, perforated with 
 holes. The question of this wandering natural- 
 ist, whether he had already been on board of the 
 brig, was followed by an involuntary chuckling 
 laugh from most of the seamen ,who were look- 
 ing down into the boat, over the forward bul- 
 wark, accompanied by the reply of the mate, 
 that such was probably the case, and that he had 
 better come on board, and make himself com- 
 fortable. 
 
 " It will be very difhcult for me to get up 
 there '." exclaimed the passenger, in the boat ; 
 "how 1 shall accomplish it I know not, especially 
 
 and particularly, as 1 " He interrupted liim- 
 
 self, and inspected his coat, the side pockets of 
 which, stufled full, stood out from his body : 
 
 " especially and particularly, as I see that' 
 
 my eggs are in danger." 
 
 " Your eggs ?" inquired the mate, laughing 
 heartily ; " how so .'" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, my eggs ! I have all my pock- 
 ets filled with birds' eggs, and have been obliged, 
 the whole long way from the city, to stand up- 
 right, as you see me here; and the deuced boat 
 would hardly lie upon the water, but rocked and 
 pitched hither and yon, and I had both hands 
 full, as you see." 
 
 " But why then did you not pack up your eggs 
 carefully, as we bring our eggs on board for 
 stores ?" 
 
 " You ! your store eggs ? how can you com- 
 pare them to my eggs .'" exclaimed the little man. 
 " What sort of eggs are your store eggs .' ha ; 
 common hen's eggs, or duck eggs at the most ! 
 Eggs ! truly — eggs which every miserable hen in 
 Europe will lay for you, and you wish to com- 
 pare them with my eggs ! with my costly con- 
 tributions for a royal museum ! you would com- 
 pare your insignificant, ordinary store eggs, to 
 my eggs. What countryman are you .' not a 
 Swede ? not the countryman of the great lAa- 
 neus .'" 
 
 " Will you please to step on board, and pay 
 us our fare .'" interrupted the boatman, in Span- 
 ish, while Mr. Rossbriick could as little restrain 
 his laughter, as the mate and crew. 
 
 " Hut why do you have the eggs so loose in 
 your jiocketi, if they are of so much importance 
 
 to you ?" again inquired the mate, leaning com- 
 fortably against the bulwark, while the occur- 
 rence was taking up the time, and appeared to 
 amuse him. 
 
 " Why .' because they are not yet classified — 
 they have not yet been brought into system — 
 and especially, because I only-this morning dis- 
 covered the ' Anser Merboldensis,' of which nei- 
 ther Humboldt, nor Blumcnbach, nor Cuvier, 
 made the least mention ; and look here ! look 
 here ! this is the egg ; it is yet warm ; the egg of 
 the Anser Merboldensis ! You know that 1 am 
 Dr. Merbold — the captain has my passport." 
 
 " Go to the devil with your eggs !" exclaimed 
 the boatman, suddenly, in English ; " step up 
 the ladder there, and let your baggage be taken 
 on board," grumbled he in Spanish. 
 
 " Now, how in the world am I to do that ? 
 you do not reason at all ; I am more badly placed 
 than you are ! Here I stand with my eggs, 
 and have both hands full," exclaimed Dr. Mer- 
 bold, in broken English; " and you sit there, with 
 your club in your hand " — the learned man 
 meant the tiller. 
 
 While they were thus disputing, the mate or- 
 dered some sailors to jump into the shallop, and 
 help the good doctor, and bring him and his 
 etlects on board as quickly as possible, but care- 
 fully and circumspectfully. 
 
 After a great deal of difficulty and exertion. 
 Dr. Merbold at length stood upon the quarter 
 deck. 
 
 " Mate," said he, looking around, inquiringly, 
 " will you have some earth brouglit up to me, 
 from your ballast, for a tree here ? Perhaps you 
 have a box, or an empty cask ?" 
 
 " Earth ? from our ballast .'" repeated Mr. 
 Storhjelm, laughing aloud ; " how ? what do you 
 mean by that, doctor .'" 
 
 " Why, now ! I meant some earth from your 
 ballast! You generally carry some good, rich 
 earth as ballast, and my ' simplex magnus Mer- 
 boldensis' may grow in that, until we come to 
 Rio de Janeiro." 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear doctor," replied the 
 Swede, a little at a loss, " we have nearly a full 
 cargo, as you see, and if we had brought earth 
 here as ballast, we must have thrown it over- 
 board before we took in the cargo." 
 
 " So !" answered the learned man, in subdued 
 tones, " I did not know that ! I never thought of 
 that, that is very probably the case. So you 
 have no earth on board .' pity ! if 1 had imagined 
 that ; I would have brought as much with me 
 from shore, as I have need of — there is no 
 scarcity of earth there. Is there not a boat go- 
 ing to the shore again, that I may have the op- 
 portunity of bringing some earth on board .'" 
 
 " None of our boats are going ashore again," 
 replied the mate ; " we are waiting for the cap- 
 tain, that we may go to sea." 
 
 " Hem," murmured Dr. Merbold, to himself, 
 " then I shall hardly be able to send that ' sim- 
 plex magnus Merboldensis ' growing and green, 
 to Berlin ; and, unfortunately, I cannot draw a 
 line, or else I should soon know how to help 
 myself. 
 
 " Well, then," continued he, soliloquizing half 
 aloud, " I will do as other renowned naturalists 
 have done, who could draw as little as I, and 
 have, nevertheless, published splendidly illus- 
 trated works about their travels. I wiU arrange
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 55 
 
 it, thank you for your good will, Mr. Mate," 
 he exclaimed, aloud, and then sank into reflec- 
 tion on his newly discovered natural productions. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 IMPORTANT ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 The arrival of the second sailboat, which the 
 long Ottar had announced, interrupted the scene 
 of the savant's debut on board the Nordstjernan. 
 Mr. McGaul stepped on board, sought and found 
 Mr. Daily, and drew him immediately aside in 
 conversation, concerning the taking of tlie two 
 boxes of precious stones from on board, and 
 landing them safely somewhere in the neigh- 
 borhood of the country house which has been 
 spoken of. The attempt was in itself no trifle,' 
 the shore being rather strongly guarded, and no 
 boat daring to approach any other than the ap- 
 pointed landing places in the city , without special 
 permission from the custom house. 
 
 Mr. McGaul had received orders to take pos- 
 session of the two boxes, to pass the day on the 
 river, and then to endeavor to land them safely 
 in the evening or night. In the possible case of 
 making an arrangement to have them shipped 
 with another captain, he was to receive a second 
 order in the neighborhood of the country house ; 
 in which case it would be easier to bring the 
 contraband goods on board without touching the 
 shore. 
 
 Mr. Daily put on a grave face, turned his 
 head right and left, and moved it backwards and 
 forwards, whenever his words required these 
 accompanying gestures ; and then sank again 
 into reflection, in order to advise his colleague 
 as to the best course to be pursued by him. 
 
 The latter had been provided by Mr. Walker, 
 with two water casks, which he brought with 
 him in the boat, into which the two boxes were 
 to be secreted and headed up. " Two water 
 casks !" cried Mr Daily, half aloud; " excellent ! 
 exquisite ! There we have our Mr. Walker 
 again ! he is indeed a capital smuggler ! he 
 knows the ways and means so directly ! In water 
 casks I each box to be placed in a water cask — 
 the head to be taken out tirst, and then put in 
 again ! Excellent ! beautiful ! But what sort of 
 people have you got with you ? can you rely upon 
 them .'" 
 
 "Oho! as to that," whispered Mr. McGaul, 
 " they are trusty fellows, who have already done 
 so much on their own account, that they must 
 be silent, if they would not carry chains ail their 
 lives! They cannot injure us ; Mr. Walker 
 has them in his hands, or rather in his pocket." 
 
 " All right" returned Mr. Daily, in as low a 
 voice, "then I will hand the two boxes over to 
 you, in the presence of the mate, that he may 
 be satisfied that they are the same which the 
 captain will have sent from on board." 
 
 "Very well," answered the other, "do so; 
 call the mate aside, and have the boxes brought 
 on deck." 
 
 It was done as they had agreed ; the mate ex- 
 amined the captain's seals, and found them 
 unbroken on both boxes. 'These were put on 
 
 board of the boat, which Mr. McGaul soon after 
 stepped into, and steered for the opposite shore. 
 When it had got otf at some distance from the 
 brig, he took out some iishing tackle, and pre- 
 pared for fishing, as if he was on the stream 
 simply for that purpose, and had never thought 
 of precious stones (or smuggling) in all his life. 
 Mr. Rossbriick had observed the secret dis- 
 course of the two clerks, without taking any ap- 
 parent notice of it. The expedition of two boxes 
 from on board just before the departure of the 
 ship, appeared to him a little out of the ordi- 
 nary course of business. He threw a stolen 
 glance, accompanied by a knowing smile, to the 
 mate, who looked after the boat for a long time, 
 and then, to amuse himself, went and sat down 
 by Dr. Merbold, who was still busied in freeing 
 himself from his beetles and leafy covering, and 
 in classifying and systematizing. 
 
 " What have you there, in that box, doctor, if 
 I may ask .'" said Mr. Rossbriick, unintention- 
 ally exhibiting one of his German traits of 
 character, in commencing a conversation, al- 
 though it was entirely opposed to the manner 
 and custom of a real gentleman. 
 
 " The most interesting thing that a naturalist 
 has ever brought from this country," answered 
 the savant, and his broad, square face beamed 
 with a radiant expression, " Look, if you please, 
 through one of the little holes ; you will there 
 see a newly discovered production of nature, in 
 four specimens, two male and two female ; the 
 one pair is designed for Queen Victoria, and the 
 other for the Emperor of Russia." 
 
 " They appear to be wood beetles ; are they 
 not, doctor ?" remarked the other, after a hasty 
 look at the show box. 
 
 " They certainly belong to the class of wood 
 beetles, but this species has never yet been men- 
 tioned by naturalists. I myself have discovered 
 this beetle, and have given it my name, as I do 
 with all my discoveries, to avoid misunderstand- 
 ing, in regard to my right of property as a natu- 
 ralist." 
 
 " The discovery may be very interesting and 
 very important," remarked Mr. Rossbriick ; " it 
 is a pity that I am no connoisseur, and understand 
 so little about such thing# 
 
 " A pity, do you say .' it is, indeed, a pity," 
 replied the little man, straightening himself up 
 with arrogant importance ; " it is, indeed, a pity 
 that you are unacquainted with the science of 
 entomology, for it is the first in the world. It 
 evidently penetrates into the most hidden depths 
 of nature, for where no other creature can pene- 
 trate, a beetle will, and the study of beetles con- 
 ducts us, also, where they penetrate. Look 
 here, sir ! a beetle will penetrate into a thick, 
 bard piece of wood, and there cut and work out 
 his way and his dwelling ; you, with all your 
 human intelligence, cannot do the like." 
 
 Mr. Rossbruck was compelled to admit the 
 justness of the above observation of the naturalist, 
 who continued with vivacity his panegyric of 
 beetles. " Do you see this tree, which has cost 
 me so much trouble to bring with me .' why does 
 it interest me ? simply as a tree ? by no means ; 
 dendrology is not my province ; it simply inter- 
 ests me because a beetle lives on it and in it, in 
 the physiology, or rather psychology, of which 
 I have spent some months. Do you comprehend 
 that, sir ! Do you see this egg here ? the egg of
 
 56 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 the Anser Merholdensis ! Do you suppose that 
 the goose interests me as a goose ? Oh no ! no 
 goose has ever yet interested me. But this, my 
 goose, lives entirely on beetles ; it eats nothing 
 but beetles ; the element of its lil'e is beetles, 
 and, therefore, it interests me, for I have devoted 
 myself, my whole life, to the study of beetles— 
 
 to" beetles. Do you understand that, Mr. : 
 
 what is your name .'" 
 
 "My "name is Rossbriick," said the young 
 man, a little embarrassed, and in a low voice, for 
 he disliked to pronounce his fatal German name 
 in the presence of Mr. Daily, who had just ap- 
 proached him. 
 
 " Then you are, also, a German ? I am re- 
 joiced ; I am rejoiced to make your acquain- 
 tance," exclaimed the little man. 
 
 " Fine weather to-day," began Mr. Daily, 
 while he held out his snuff box to the yo\uig 
 gentleman ; " a good wind, likewise, for going 
 down the river." ' , 
 
 The young gentleman answered by a slight 
 nod, ste'ppod aside a few paces, and removed 
 himself from the deck passenger. 
 
 Mr. Daily was too much of an Englishman not 
 to understand this negative reply ; he by no means 
 lost his self-possession, but repeated his observa- 
 tion about wind and weather, while he stepped 
 close up to the little beetle man, and held out 
 the box to him. Dr. Merbold replied with all 
 kindness, ajreed that it was very fine weather, 
 but as regarded the \vind, which was requn-ed lo 
 go down "the river, that was a matter %vith which 
 the learned man was entirely unacquainted. 
 • Like so many others of his kind. Dr. Mer- 
 bold lived in the narrow boarded up world of 
 his particular study, in wliich he was suffi- 
 ciently well versed. But out of the domain of 
 his study of beetles, he appeared as unconver- 
 sant wit'li the world, and as unacquainted with 
 practical life, as many others of his kind. 
 
 Entirely taken up with his beetles, he only 
 bestowed a hasty look upon his travelling com- 
 panion, whose advances were, however, not un- 
 welcome to him. He loved conversation and 
 intercourse, without, however, interesting him- 
 self much in its subject, unless it was some kind 
 of beetle. ' 
 
 " How long have you been in this country ?" 
 inquired the clerk of" him, after a pause in their 
 discourse. The learned man held a beetle be- 
 fore him on a needle, and said, " I caught this 
 one the first week after my landing, it may be 
 two months since. Only see once! what a 
 splendid specimen that is; they cost ten mill- 
 reis a pair in Rio de Janeiro, and in Europe 
 you would have to pay ten dollars for them." 
 
 " Is tliat true !" exclaimed Mr. Daily ; " then 
 you, who have embarked such a capital in the 
 article, will make a good business and a great 
 deal of money by it." 
 
 " As to monev-making" rejoined the little 
 man, there I am not so fortunate as other people, 
 for I am not a merchant — not in the lca.st ; and 
 besides, I am always too much absorbed in my 
 occupation, in and 'for itself, to be able to con- 
 cern mvself with speculation and trade. I pur- 
 sue this study simply as a study, and only from 
 the love of knowledge." 
 
 Mr. Daily stared at the little man in astonish- 
 ment, while he as little understood this uncon- 
 scious confession of the naturalist, (so much to 
 
 his honor,) as he was able to conceiTe of the 
 entire separation of science from the general 
 knowledge of the world. 
 
 " One can engage in business, and make money 
 as a naturalist, as to that matter," continued Dr. 
 Merbold. " When you go to Rio de Janeiro, you 
 will find there naturalists, or at least those 
 who call themselves so, who have acquired pro- 
 perty by trading in miserable stones and peb- 
 bles—in minerals ! 1 know a Mr. Closting, there 
 who follows this business." 
 
 "So !" said Mr. Daily, more attentive than be 
 fore, " he deals in mi'nerals ! in stones did you 
 say ? probably in precious stones, brilliants — 
 that is worth hearing." 
 
 " Precious stones ! precions stones ! brilliantsl" 
 grumbled the other to himself ; " as if there was 
 any thing precious in a stone ! there is but one 
 precious — one brilliant — the well known ' bril- 
 liant beetle !' " . • , t 
 
 " Do you know any European in Rio de Ja- 
 neiro, who does a business in minerals and the 
 like — I mean a naturalist, as you call him, who 
 is not exactly a merchant .'" inquired Mr. Daily, 
 after a pause. 
 
 " Naturalist, or something of that sort, who 
 does a good business .' yes, I know one well, 
 who understands how 'to make money out of 
 stones. If you require such a one, I will give 
 vou Mr. Closting's address, or go with you to 
 "him, when we come to Rio. 1, myself, will 
 have nothing to do with him— may God keep me 
 from it ! but if I can do you a service as my trav- 
 elling companion " 
 
 Mr. Daily became more and more attentive, 
 for the few words respecting the unknown 
 " brought water to his mill," and he inquired far- 
 ther — " 1 hope he does not stand in bad re- 
 pute — the naturalist of whom you spoke ?" 
 
 " In repute ?" returned Dr. Merbold, busily 
 occupied in sticking down beetle after beetle. 
 "I have told you, already, he does a good busi- 
 ness. He has monev, and whoever has money does 
 not need reputatio'n. As to ' how he has made' 
 his money ! that has nothing to do with his repu- 
 utation. I— I mean what people call reputation. 
 Only he who has no talent for business, and 
 does not understand how to malte money, stands 
 in evil repute with all who have money ; they 
 endeavor to shun him, because they fear that ha 
 may occasionally expect certain favors of them. 
 They call him lazy and stupid, or, altogether too 
 honorable, too honest." 
 
 Mr. Daily smiled with peculiar satisfaction at 
 these remarks, in which more sound sense 
 shone forth, although in broken rays, than could 
 have been expected from the learned man, after 
 what had taken place. 
 
 " Very true ! excellent !" he exclaimed ; while 
 the otlier continued — " I know men in great com- 
 mercial cities, of whom people say sometimes 
 one thing and sometimes another : one has forged 
 notes ; another has made three fraudulent bank- 
 ruptcies; a tliird has counterfeited the name of his 
 king, and thus obtained money ; and another has 
 committed all of these crimes togetlier : so they 
 say. And all of them, but especially the last, do 
 a good business, and pass for clever fellows, and' 
 of course are in good repute as clever fellows. 
 What more do you wish .' Do you not think so 
 
 too, Mr. ? what's your name .'" 
 
 i' " Daily, Habakkuk Daily, is my name," an-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 67 
 
 swered the other, smilinEf as before, regarding 
 the little man with individual interest, who, on 
 his part, little suspected how important his infor- 
 mation and remarlis were to his travelling com- 
 panion, if the latter should be permitted to ap- 
 ply them to the individual spoken of, whose ac- 
 quaintance he hoped to make by means of this 
 accidental introduction. 
 
 " You must move all your things away from 
 the deck, down below, between decks !" said the 
 mate, interrupting the conversation, and ap- 
 proachino; the naturalist, who had not troubled 
 himself in the least jibout his berth and ac- 
 commodations. 
 
 " Down below, between decks ?" inquired the 
 naturalist, without looking up from his beetles ; 
 " is there then such a hurry .' I love the fresh 
 air, and am busy, as you see." 
 
 " So I see. indeed," replied the mate; " but we 
 are going to be very busy here just now our- 
 selves ; the captain is coming with the last cabin 
 passenger, and we must have the deck clear." 
 
 " Hem ! if it must be so, it must," grumbled 
 Dr. Merbold ; but cannot you make yourself 
 busy somewhere else besides here, where I and 
 my things are .'" 
 
 The mate wavered for an instant between 
 mirth and anger, but involuntarily broke into 
 laughter, and called a sailor, to whom he gave 
 the order to transport the little fellow, with 
 all his trumpery, belov/, between decks, where 
 his berth was prepared for him. The naturalist 
 put a good face on a bad business, while Mr, 
 Daily lent a helping hand, and, with remark- 
 able ofhciousness, assisted him in arranging his 
 quarters. In this manner they were brought 
 into close personal contact, and had time and 
 leisure, by degrees, to enter more and more into 
 conversation with each other, although it would 
 have been difficult lor the naturalist to become, 
 as the expression is, " better acquainted" with 
 his travelling companion. In fact, the learned 
 man troubled his head very little about the 
 clerk, as he was no beetle, and therefore did not 
 particularly interest him. 
 
 B-#s^^^^^**^ 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE UNITARIAN. 
 
 While these intermediate scenes of embarka- 
 tion, were passing on board the Nordstjernan, it 
 was not less lively on board the Argentine man 
 ot war, La Caza. 
 
 The second morning watch, including the 
 time from four o'clock in the morning, until 
 eight, had passed by before the expected cutter, 
 or a shallop with the required crew, was any 
 where to be seen. 
 
 Mr. Tumble, the commander, appeared on the 
 quarter deck, after having been waked to break- 
 fast by the steward. He was one of those broad 
 shouldered figures, whose heads sit so close upon 
 their bodies that the blood easily mounts into 
 them, while the expression of his round face, 
 " cut with a coarse chisel out of soft sandstone," 
 presented a perpetual declaration of war. 
 
 Mr. Tumble generally sailed ou the waves of 
 
 inflated eelf-conceit under a full wind of bru- 
 tality, whereby men in similar posts impose upon 
 their inferiors, and require, as a tribute of duty, 
 the respect which would otherwise be denied to 
 them. The commander, Mr. Tumble, belonged 
 to the great class of men who ofi'er little for 
 their most intimate associates to love or respect ; 
 whose deeds of selfishness and meanness draw 
 upon them universal contempt, while they 
 themselves live under the mistake, that they 
 command universal respect. These imposing 
 men are generally surrounded by creatures 
 whose studied demeanor manifests this dutiful 
 respect, without which they would evidently 
 prejudice their own interests. On the other 
 hand, men of the world are often officially tbrced 
 into contact with them, who possess sufficient 
 tact to adapt their behavior to them, without 
 disturbing the illusion of these " highly respected 
 and universally prized" men ; an attempt which 
 would be in itself as impossible as thankless. 
 
 The greater the obligation, in the social rela- 
 tions, which compels persons who are brought 
 into contact with a man occupying a position 
 like the above, to manifest a certain outward re- 
 spect, the more difficult would it be, to infuse into 
 his mind doubts, or.'%ven a suspicion that this 
 respect does not proceed from " esteem," but is 
 merely the maintenance of external forms. Such 
 an intimation would be as useless as fruitless, 
 and would, besides, be lost upon the egotism 
 of the " respected man." The natural conse- 
 quence would be a heavy dose of official bru- 
 tality against the friend who, from a noble mo- 
 tive, should dare to disturb such a happy illu- 
 sion — to raise the veil from before the fatal re- 
 ality — whereby he would only injure himself, 
 and serve no other person. 
 
 Two elements of the world's erreat theatre set 
 aside this so called universal " public or per- 
 sonal respect" of a man, as unnecessary. The 
 two elements are : business and subordination, 
 neither for the one nor the other of tliese pur- 
 poses, does the man generally require this article, 
 where these elements are replaced by others — 
 for business by credit, and for subordination by 
 rank. 
 
 Respect, founded on moral worth, disappears 
 by the tendency of the civilization of our century, 
 in proportion as the " worth of man," in some 
 countries, is estimated according to rank, title, 
 and external dignity ; in others, according to the 
 measure of money ; and sometimes by both to- 
 gether. Whoever possesses one or the other of 
 these qualifications, will trouble himself very 
 little about " personal esteem," the article in 
 question, since he does not at all require it for 
 the maintenance of his position. At this point 
 we encounter a universal evil of our time ; an 
 inevitable result of so called civilization, which 
 
 excludes the idea of a sense of honor. 
 
 Capt, Tumble drew his old ash-gray " south- 
 wester" (which, in consequence of long service, 
 might have passed for the original hat of Jim 
 Crow) farther over his right ear, cast a criticising 
 glance at the rigging and deck, and then upon 
 the midshipman of the watch. He gave a half- 
 dozen orders in a thundering voice, and at a 
 breath, which the midshipman would certainly 
 have given had they been necessary, or if the 
 time for them had arrived. The young office! 
 repeated each order separately, in the customaij
 
 58 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 seaman's intonation, and with the rapidity which 
 their execution allowed. The commander drew 
 his telescope to a locus, with a dissatisfied air, 
 and stepped to the bulwark to observe the cutter 
 and a shallop, which showed themselves in the 
 far distance, steering for the Caza. At the end 
 of half an hour, during which the officers had 
 breakfasted, and the fragmentary crew had re- 
 ceived their rations, both sails had come along- 
 side of the Caza, and offered a singular spectacle 
 in their cargo of living creatures, (food for the 
 cannon of the Orientals.) Besides the people 
 who served to man the cutter and shallop, a 
 variegated mixture was presented, of " forced 
 passengers," of various ages, from the boy to the 
 graybeard, and with as great variety of character 
 and nationality. 
 
 As great as was the contrast of individuality 
 in this " muster-roll of neglected children," from 
 the remotest corners of the earth, who were now 
 treated by fate in such a stepmotherly manner, 
 there was, nevertheless, a certain general ex- 
 pression predominating throughout the entire 
 intricate picture, composed of every degree of 
 wretchedness, want, grief, anxiety, discontent, 
 and despair, whose colors were blended with 
 each other, and presentet^a most tragical view 
 to the feeling observer. 
 
 More speedily than Dr. Merbold had left his 
 shallop for the deck of the Nordstjernan, did the 
 future defenders of the Argentine republic arrive 
 on board the Caza, on the quarter deck of 
 which, in the neighborhood of the mainmast, 
 the ship's clerk had arranged his table, with 
 paper and writing materials, in order to make 
 out an inventory of the captured machines and 
 blind tools, while the midshipman who com- 
 manded the cutter went up to the commander, 
 and handed him several documents, which were, 
 in a certain degree, to be considered as a " bill of 
 lading" of the delivered articles. 
 
 Senor Enero ■ undertook the conduct of the 
 inspection, and a scene took place similar to the 
 recruiting muster of Falstaff', the details of which 
 would overstep the prescribed limits of this 
 novel. The officer caused the floating troop to 
 be arranged into four divisions, in order more 
 readily to assign to each individual the future 
 employment for which his fate had destined him. 
 The divisions were as follows : Volunteers, 
 who had announced themselves as willing to 
 serve in the marine ; and these, again, were 
 divided into the two classes of sailors and ma- 
 rines. The last class embraced some who had 
 already served as soldiers on shore, or had learned 
 the use of arms. The volunteers were to be en- 
 titled to several dollars bounty money, from 
 which a boatswain, who conducted a recruiting 
 party in the city, had already made advances to 
 release one and another out of some public 
 house, where they had pledged themselves and 
 their travelling bundles. Besides these, ap- 
 peared the third, and certainly the most nume- 
 rous class, of so called criminals, individuals 
 who, under pretence that they were dangerous to 
 society, were placed for the present in safe 
 custody. This class embraced all the "disor- 
 derly fellows," taken up in their frolics out of 
 the gutters and thrown into prison, with Unita- 
 tarians — men who, from their feeling and enthu- 
 siasm for freedom and fatherland, had become 
 suspicious and " dangerous to church and state." 
 
 The fourth class consisted of natives of the 
 republic, subject to military duty, who were 
 obliged to serve out their time, by land or by 
 sea, as defenders of their country, or rather as 
 servants of Rosas. 
 
 Besides these divisions, the recruiting boat- 
 swain, who conducted the transport, thrust for- 
 ward two individuals, who, strictly speaking, 
 fell into neither of these categories, whom he had 
 "picked up" quite accidentally, just before 
 the embarkation. 
 
 To avoid confusion afterwards, these two were 
 first examined. The one was a tall, herculean 
 fellow, with coarse hair, of a color between ver- 
 milion and chrome yellow, which sported in friz- 
 zled locks, and a weatherbeaten face. A deep 
 fold was formed on his singularly strong, muscu- 
 lar neck, whenever he held up his head, with a 
 sort of independent carriage, which seemed 
 peculiar to him. He wore a simple " sailor's 
 negligee :" wide sailcloth pantaloons, and a gar- 
 ment (which the overstrained morality of certain 
 countries will not allow to be named) of un- 
 bleached calico, with a blue sailor's collar, and 
 white trimmings. These two pieces of clothing 
 formed his whole attire. At the small leather 
 girdle above his hips, which protected his " inex- 
 pressibles from mischance or downfall, hung the" 
 remnant, or rather back of a buckhorn handled 
 knife, very nearly worn out by length of service 
 To a piece of sailyarn, strung around his solid 
 neck, dangled a small octave flute, the holes 
 of which were so near to each other that it must 
 require a twofold art to play upon the instrument 
 with such clumsy fingers as those of its owner 
 Hat, barret, cap, stockings, shoes, or boots, wera 
 out of the question. 
 
 The neglected son of the muses sustained 
 himself with his back 'against the mainmast, with 
 an evident difficulty to conceal the exertion that 
 it cost him to maintain a suitable posture before 
 the officer without balancing. 
 
 To the question about his name and country, 
 he replied with the utmost significance of ex- 
 pression : 
 
 " My name is Patrick McCafTray, but the la- 
 dies cadi me Pat Gentleboy, your honor. I am an 
 irishman by birth, a little drunk by accident, 
 and an American by principle." 
 
 An involuntary shout of laughter from the 
 officers near the clerk, called the commander 
 from the hinder part of the ship, to the group, 
 where he only saw, in the manly form of the 
 newly arrived person, a " brilliant acquisition for 
 his Caza." 
 
 Mr. Tumble now began, in good English, a 
 private examination of Patrick, at whose an- 
 swers he was as little able to restrain his laugh- 
 ter as before. 
 
 It transpired, by degrees, that Pat Gentleboy 
 was tiventy-nine years old, and had been to sea 
 twenty-one years; that he had served a long 
 time in the British navy, and five years on board 
 a United States corvette, which had discharged 
 him in Monte Video according to documents ia 
 the best form, which he carried in a rusty round 
 tin box near his flute. 
 
 " You are a fifer, as I see .' inquired the com- 
 mander, in continuation of his examination. 
 
 " Yes, your honor, fifer by profession, and 
 Catholic by religion. Many an anchor has been 
 raised by this life, I assure your honor, and
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 many capstans have been manned after it in 
 dade ;" — and thereupon Patrick Gentleboy put 
 his miniature instrument to his lips, and blew, 
 in the clearest, shrillest notes that had ever 
 sounded above the murmur of the waves, and 
 with undeniable skill, the well known Irish 
 melody, " My love is on the ocean," accompany- 
 ing, as it were, the trills and runs with heart and 
 soul, gazing fixedly in the air, and keeping the 
 most exact time on the planks with his bare 
 foot. 
 
 A hearty applause on the part of the officers 
 followed the last, masterly executed passage 
 whereupon Senor Enero whispered in the clerk's 
 ear : 
 
 " Set him down in thelist of voluntaries, with 
 five pesos* bounty money." 
 
 Patrick, who understood the words " volunta- 
 rios" and ** pesos," excused himself, and spoke 
 Vfith peculiar seriousness : 
 
 " Cinco pesos .' good ! very good ! I have 
 nothing agin that, but not as Voluntario. I beg 
 your honor's pardon ! I am not here as volunta- 
 rio, but as a land traveller, as a passenger 
 your honor. It is my intention to travel to Rio 
 Negro, where I have a brother, a carpenter, your 
 honor. He lives there in a little town or vil- 
 lage on the coast. IVIy brother's name is Tom, 
 your honor ! Patrick is my name — Patrick 
 Gentleboy — and by no manes a voluntario ! But 
 if your honor plazes to give me the cinco pesos, 
 God bless your honor, and may the heavens be 
 your bed ! I will accept thim for travelling ex- 
 pinces with plaisure. And you may write all 
 that in the book, Mr. Officer! if you plase ! Pat- 
 rick Gentleboy — musicianer — Irishman by birth 
 — and above all, if you honor would plase to put 
 down the name of the place where my brother 
 lives, for I'm afeared I've lost the bit of paper 
 where I had it written down." 
 
 Captain Tumble laughed heartily, and en- 
 deavored, with great success, to translate this 
 original request of the Irishman, verbatim, into 
 good Spanish. 
 
 " No mistakes, your honor," continued Pat- 
 rick, in the matter of voluntaries; I am no 
 voluntario at all, at all ! I'm an American by 
 principle, and this here, as far as I see, this here 
 is a Rosas ship, an 'Ar-gentile' man of war ; isn't 
 it, your honor ? and I'm by no manes willing. to 
 act agin my principles! by no manes at all, at 
 all ! note that in your book : Patrick Gentle- 
 boy — passenger— American by principle. Does 
 your honor understand ? No mistakes ; for my 
 brother is expectin' me on the coast of Patagonia. 
 No mistakes, your honor !" 
 
 The officers lingered as long by this volunteer 
 against his will, as the urgency of the time per- 
 mitted, and then handed him over for the pre- 
 sent to the steward, for an extra breakfast, 
 against which Patrick Gentleboy had "not the 
 least objection in the world." 
 
 They waited now for the other individual, 
 whom the boatswain brought forward with the 
 following account. 
 
 " This man I found to-day, while I was waiting 
 for the transport ; he sat in a boat by the shore, 
 and twanged on his guitar the cursed Spanish tune 
 of freedom, by Rigas or Riego, however the 
 Bong may be called, and muttered words to it 
 
 • Dollars. 
 
 that induced me to arresAim and bring him on 
 
 board." 
 
 All eyes were now directed to the prisoner. 
 He was a young man, apparently about thirty- 
 years old, of a middling size, and weak frame — 
 whose features, furrowed by suffering and grief, 
 were evidently stamped with the proud serious- 
 ness of Spanish nationality, which his whole 
 person indicated. 
 
 He wore black nether garments, a velvet spen- 
 cer, with buttons which had once been gilt, a 
 broad Pyrenean or Basque bonnet, with a long 
 tassel fastened under the chin, an old threadbare 
 cloak, or mantle, thrown over his shoulders, and 
 in his right hand a Spanish mandoline. 
 
 " Your name .'" inquired Senor Enero, with a 
 certain air of consideration, in consequence of 
 the impression that his appearance made upon 
 him. 
 
 " Alvarez de la Barca," replied the prisoner, 
 looking his interrogator boldly in the eye. 
 
 " A Spaniard, then .'" said the other. 
 
 " A South American," replied Alvarez. 
 
 " Where were you born .'" 
 
 " In Corrientes." 
 
 Enero continued, while the clerk wrote down 
 the answers : 
 
 " What is your standing, your profession ?" 
 
 " Aristocrat among democrats; compositor by 
 profession." 
 
 Singular as this answer might seem in itself, 
 no one dared laugh at it, since the undeniable 
 dignity of the prisoner suppressed the sense of ' 
 the comic. 
 
 " Were you ever in military life ?" asked 
 Enero. 
 
 " A volunteer in the well known ' bataillon de 
 la Blouse,' at Barcelona," replied Alvarez, with- 
 out allowing an emotion of his mind to be visible. 
 
 " What song were you singing this morning, 
 when the boatmen met you .'" 
 
 " A republican hymn, a South American song 
 — fragment of the Elegias de la Plata." 
 
 The officers looked at one another with an ex- 
 pression of surprise. 
 
 " Sing the song again," ordered the captain. 
 "Sing it!" cried he, louder, while a scornful 
 smile distorted his mouth; " I wish to hear it, as 
 a sample of Unitarian poetry. Sing on !" 
 
 " Do you then desire that I should sing the 
 fragment .'" asked the prisoner. 
 
 The commander reiterated his order, and the 
 South American, after preluding some passages 
 upon his instrument, raised his powerful bari- 
 tone voice in an air similar to that of the famous 
 hymn of Riego, and sang the following strophe : 
 
 *" The waves of La Plata are beating 
 
 Outhe shore — anil with horrors they're gone ; 
 Streams of blood there its waters were meeting, 
 Through the crimes of the tyrant thereon 1" 
 
 " What !" cried Codo, whose royalist princi- 
 ples had sufficiently declared themselves during 
 the quarterdeck promenade of the foregoing 
 night : " how do you dare to sing such a song 
 here, on board the Caza .'" 
 
 " I ordered it," interrupted the commander, 
 in a harsh voice ; " 1 wish to hear the song; do 
 not disturb him." 
 
 The singer had continued his accompaniment. 
 
 • Free imitation of the Spanish origiaal.
 
 60 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 without noticing the interruptiim, while Patrick 
 Gentleboy liad returned in a.1 haste from the for- 
 ward deck, and accompanied the air in a mas- 
 terly manner, with his picolo flute. 
 
 With increasing; animation, during which a 
 deathly jjaleness overspread his noble features, 
 the South American sang the following stanzas, 
 without being again interrupted : 
 
 " The flowing of time's ceaseless torrent, 
 From the Pampas the tyrant would stem ; 
 With ivalls and with ramparts abhorrent, 
 Its course he would willingly hem. 
 
 His ramparts with corses are gory ; 
 
 The dams are cemented with lilood-, 
 And the hangman, so runs the sad story, 
 
 Lacks stones to encumber the Hood. 
 
 From the high sunny hills in the distance, 
 
 La Plata bears freedom's idea 
 To a people whose future existence, 
 
 In the union of nations will be! 
 
 In the rush of her waves is her greeting. 
 Their movement is harmony's might, 
 
 Although rulers the nation are cheating, 
 Its sj-mpathy goes with the right. 
 
 The waves of La Plata shall nourish 
 For Rosas contempt, while they run ; 
 
 Though hirelings the praises may flourish , 
 Of the Pampas^ degenerate son. ^ 
 
 Let Rosas then he well attended, 
 Grow rich at the cost of the state ; 
 
 Though by strangers and priests he's defended, 
 Yet vengeance shall be his sure fete. 
 
 The hero by flatt'rers surrounded. 
 Ingulfed in time's current shall be; 
 
 His name as a by-word be sounded, 
 The scorn of the brave and the free 
 
 When nations are writing their story 
 Of tyrants with blood-spotted fame, 
 
 Let each traitor who shines in such glory 
 Be called K05AS — a curse be his name." 
 
 The effect of the different verses upon the 
 minds of the officers, and upon that portion of 
 the crew who were more or less able to under- 
 stand the signification of the words, rose above 
 all expression, with the accompaniment which 
 filled up the pauses of the song, while the singer, 
 evidently carried away more and more by his en- 
 thusiasm, brought forth all the strength of his 
 thrilling voice, in accordance with the depth of 
 feeling, with which he pronounced the words. 
 
 Patrick Gentleboy, although not particularly 
 conversant with the Spanish language, had 
 placed himself directly oppoiite the singer, and 
 outdid himself in an able accompaniment to the 
 refrain, the more the singer's expression of coun- 
 tenance, as it were, brought him out of his .drunk- 
 enness and electrified his fingers. 
 
 The effect, however, upon the various minds 
 of the officers, reached its crisis with the last 
 strophe, and it would be a fruitless attempt to 
 describe it here. 
 
 " Infamous Unitarian !" cried Senor Codo, as 
 the last words had scarcely left the singer's 
 trembling lips ; " infamous ! and you dare here, 
 
 on board .'" Throwing himself upon him 
 
 with these words, he unsheathed his dirk, and 
 would have seized the unfortunate man by the 
 cravat, but Enero sprang between the two, and 
 turned the blow aside, crying loudly, "Jus- 
 
 tice ! — and no murder ! — ^back ! back ! who gave 
 you orders ? 
 
 " Fair play ! fair play ! gintlemen ;" cried 
 Patrick who suddenly dropped his flute, and 
 seizing the daring Unitarian, covered him with 
 his colossal body, when the commander sprang 
 forward, and, by his loud orders, assembled 
 r-ound him a dozen of his crew. 
 
 ' Seize that Irishman !" roared he, foaming 
 with rage, and leave the Unitarian to me; I 
 will despatch him myself !" 
 
 Hardly had he spoken these words, when Pat- 
 rick Gentleboy was overpowered by several 
 stronghanded sailors, and the unfortunate Alva- 
 rez stood exposed to the arbitrary powers of the 
 British hireling of Rosas. 
 
 ' Miserable Unitarian !" growled he, with ir- 
 repressible rage, and seizing him with a ner- 
 vous arm, he dragged him to the bulwark, and 
 pitched him overboard with his mandoline. 
 
 " Do not reach any thing to him, let him 
 drown !" shouted he to the sailors in the shal- 
 lop which had brought a part of the forced vol- 
 unteers on board, " do not touch him ; let the 
 hound drown ! the Unitarian dog !" 
 
 Out of breath, and still trembling with savage 
 emotion, he went back to the quarterdeck, 
 while a deathlike silence ensued, and no one 
 dared to look overboard, for fear of manifesting 
 a curiosity which might be ascribed to personal 
 sympathy for the unfortunate man. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE ESCORT ON BOARD. 
 
 Mr. John Walker accompanied his son to the 
 place of landing and departure, where a sailing 
 shallop lay, ready to take the captain of the 
 Nordstjernan on board his vessel, his own boat 
 having taken the Senora Dolores, the night 
 before, from the country house of the Briton to 
 the brig. 
 
 Captain Finngreen appeared under the friendly 
 attendance of Mr. Lund, a ship chandler's clerk, 
 wTio gave him his company, for which his prin- 
 cipal had already taken a per centage in his 
 account. Mr. Limd, formerly a student in Up- 
 sala, had been, like so many Europeans, led 
 to South America by the caprice of fortune, 
 where he, for the time, laid by his jurisprudence, 
 and had assumed the provisionary occupation in 
 which we see him. 
 
 " When I see the heads which are stuck on 
 the grating of the Plaza del Victoria there," 
 remarked the captain, as he encountered Mr. 
 Walker and his son, " my heart becomes heavy, 
 and I feel inclined to have my own head insured 
 before 1 cast anchor in the stream yonder. The 
 executioner appears here to be the prime minis- 
 ter of your Director or Dictator, as you call your 
 Gobernador." 
 
 " That he is, indeed," said Mr. Lund, smiling' 
 " and red is not, without reason, the favorite 
 color of Rosas." 
 
 "That color has made. many a cloth dealer 
 rich," interrupted Mr. Walker, wliile his son's 
 effects, and the last articles sent from the ship
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 61 
 
 dianrtler's, were arranged in the shallop ; " and 
 for ail that," continued he, leaninghis head on 
 one 3ide, and closing one eye, as usual, " for all 
 that, this is a very liberal government; the most 
 free in the world. We can here do and follow 
 what we will ; pursue commerce as much as we 
 choose, if we leave politics alone, shave the 
 beards smooth under our chins, and wear a red 
 vest, or even anything else that is red. I desire 
 no better government than that of Rosas. If the 
 Unitarians will stake their heads, I cannot help 
 it ; whoever wishes to get rid of his head, meets 
 with prompt attention here. But merchants, 
 like us, do not easily ' lose tlieir heads' here. Do 
 you understand me, gentlemen ?" 
 
 Mr. Walker accompanied his wit with a hearty 
 laugh, and handled his watch key. 
 
 " Rosas was, also, a merchant himself, as I 
 hear," added Captain Finngreen ; '* he must un- 
 derstand traffic well to buy men, as he is accus- 
 tomed to do." 
 
 "Certainly," replied Mr. Lund; "he was 
 clerk to a mercantile house in this city, and that 
 is no disgrace to him. That he understands 
 how to do business, he shows plainly enough ; 
 he does it well ; he keeps in with the merchants, 
 because he knows that they are not easily excited 
 to rebellion ; and he says to the lower classes, 
 * you are free,' and they ai-e so stupid as to be- 
 lieve it. He keeps in with the priests, who 
 preach to the people, ' ye ohall be in subjection 
 to the magistrates ;' and the priests here water 
 the plant of stupidity diligently, with holy water. 
 Whoever is independent, and no merchant, is 
 abhorred by him, for he fears the patriotism and 
 disinterestedness of such men ; he calls them 
 XJnitarios, causes them to be beheaded or shot, 
 if they do not save themselves by flight, and 
 confiscates their property, which he shares with 
 his favorites, who know how to use money as 
 well as he does himself" 
 
 " But he is, withal, a wisehead, a ' clever fel- 
 low,' who understands how to govern," asserted 
 old Walker ; " but he was never a 'merchant,' only 
 a clerk ; only a clerk !" At these words, he drew 
 up his head for an instant, from his right shoul- 
 der to an upright position, and continued, " Ro- 
 sas was born and brought up among his father's 
 cattle in the pampas, and came to Buenos Ayres 
 a calf, and became a clerk, and soon afterwards 
 entered as a volunteer into the party war, and 
 in the extermination of the aborigines, showed 
 bravery, and became a chief And when he 
 had a thousand men under his command, he 
 became general ; and as general, military chief 
 of the republic ; and then Supreme Director or 
 Goberrnado " 
 
 " And was very liberal when he first came to 
 the government," said the ship chandler's clerk, 
 " He talked of enlightenment and the edu- 
 cation of the people, and a free press and the 
 like, until the priests took him to school, and 
 the Jesuits from Spain taught him the secret of 
 governing like a tyrant, and passing for liberal 
 before the world. That is the history of our Ro- 
 8aa, captain," added he, after a pause, " and so 
 far as I know from Gazettes and books, the his- 
 tory of most rulers in Europe. He follows the 
 method of many discreet heads, who wear the 
 crown, and relinquish the executive power to 
 the executioner." 
 
 The unpretending clerk's sound common sense 
 
 very justly indicated the position of Rosas in this 
 explanation, and partly unravelled the singular 
 riddle, how it had been possible for the despot of 
 La Plata to assume such a position, and maintain 
 it for so long a time. 
 
 " But how the people here can allow them- 
 selves to be satisfied with stlch treatment, no one 
 in Europe can easily understand," replied the 
 captain. 
 
 " And yet it is very easy to explain," returned 
 Mr. Lund, " when you think of the condition in 
 which the people were, in all parts of South 
 America, subject to the oppression of the priest- 
 hood, under Spanish or Portuguese sovereignty, 
 under the influence of the priests, and especially 
 of the Jesuits, who, as you see here, have built 
 nearly all the colossal architecture of the coun- 
 try. The Spanish population of this ancient 
 colony were, in a moral respect, entirely in the 
 hands of the priests, and externally in slavery to 
 the government — to absolute despotism. The 
 political developments of Europe, worked 
 directly or indirectly to the progress of things 
 here in South America, and many European 
 seeds have here grown and thriven, with remark- 
 able rapidity, to blossom and fruit. Our coun- 
 try, however, is by no means the first and only 
 one where the priests have known how to avail 
 themselves of a certain ' republican freedom,' to 
 effect their own purposes, to uphold the interest 
 of the ruling powers, and unite them with their 
 own, under the pretence of maintaining public 
 order. The priests of all orders, after they had 
 once obtained a firm footing here, and had almost 
 literally had possession of all the provinces, did 
 not resign their position, even when the light of 
 freedom, coming over from Europe, extended its 
 rays here, and evidently (we cannot deny it) 
 dazzled the people ; like a blind man, who is 
 pierced for the cataract, and seeing suddenly, is 
 unable to distinguish between near and distant 
 objects." 
 
 " What the devil !" suddenly exclaimed old 
 Walker, " 1 thought you were a shipchandlcr's 
 clerk, and you speak like a member of parlia- 
 ment — or a lord of the upper house ! you must 
 have studied." 
 
 " A little, Mr. Walker," replied Mr. Lund 
 smiling, " but I see that our shallop is ready for 
 sailing, and I will, in all haste, conclude my 
 remarks. The priests would not relinquish 
 their position here, although a part of the popu- 
 lation would no longer, as formerly, accept their 
 papal letters of credit, but often sent back their 
 ' bills of exchange on eternity' protested. They 
 quietly sought to gain over Rosas, by making 
 him understand that the despotism, by which 
 alone he sustains himself, cannot subsist without 
 the aid of the so called ' church.' Church and 
 state here, also, formed an alliance, and Rosas 
 became the instrument of the priests, while he 
 retains the illusion that he uses the priests as 
 instruments tor the maintenance of ' public or- 
 der,' a plant, as we see here, plentifully wa- 
 tered with blood, and for the growth of which 
 corpses are used as manure. And now, captain, 
 farewell ; a happy voyage to you." 
 
 The former student from Upsala hastily gave 
 his right hand to Captain Finngreen, while old 
 Mr. Walker as hastily seized his left, and over- 
 come by a peculiar heartiness, exclaimed, " I 
 will pay you a compliment, Mr. Lund. Is not
 
 62 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ywir name Land ? No, 1 will not pay you a com- 
 pliment ; I am not fond of compliments, as you 
 must know, I — I have respect for you, all re- 
 spect. It is a pity you are not an Englishman. 
 Your qualifications would open a career before 
 you, a brilliant career ! by my soul ! But how 
 came you in a ship chandler's shop ! I should 
 lilie to Icnow.' 
 
 " The ways of fate are not always direct," 
 returned jMr. Lund ; " besides, I find my acquire- 
 ments very convenient in my position as clerl< 
 in a ship chandler's store, since I can serve as 
 interpreter in three or four languages, and be- 
 come useful to many captains as well as to my 
 principal, without, in my apprehension, degra- 
 ding myself in the least, or having any thing 
 with which to reproach my conscience." 
 
 Very honorable ! very honorable on your part," 
 observed Mr. Walker. "If you ever wish to bet- 
 ter yourself, to increase your salary, come to me." 
 
 Mr. Lund returned hearty thanks for this of- 
 fer, while Captain Finngreen interposed the re- 
 quest that he would accompany him on board, 
 adding, " You can and must give one more proof 
 how useful you can become to a captain. I have 
 still to pass the man of war there, and if ves- 
 sels are not generally hailed, it may yet be the 
 case to-day that something of the kind may oc- 
 cur to me ; and then, too, I am still uncertain 
 whether the two boxes are sent from on board. 
 You know, Mr. Walker, what 1 mean .' Come on 
 board with me, Mr. Lund. In case the two 
 boxes are still there, you shall at least witness 
 that I throw them overboard." 
 
 " It's all right ! all right, captain," returned 
 Mr. Walker, smiling, " I have already sent out 
 my McGaul, an hour ago ; the boxes are dis- 
 posed of; rely upon it. But go on board with 
 nim, for all that," continued he, returning to the 
 clerk ; " do the captain that favor, at my request. 
 I will call at your store, and inform your princi- 
 pal that I have made it. 
 
 " No, indeed," returned Mr. Lund ; " why 
 should I not go .' I accompany so many captains 
 on board, that my principal finds it quite in 
 order." 
 
 Mr. Walker now took leave of Captain Finn- 
 green and his son, but he had no tears of emotion 
 at his disposal, since he did not allow himself 
 an overflow of feeling, which would disturb his 
 Dusiness, and was not the fashion. 
 
 " Now, Bob, my boy !" he at last exclaimed, 
 •• farewell ! take notice of my * Private Instruc- 
 tions ;' read them over to-day, when you are 
 comfortably on board ; and read them often, very 
 often ; act by them, live by them, as a gentleman, 
 a Briton, and a Walker." 
 
 Bob Walker was just stepping into the cart 
 which was to convey him on board the shallop, 
 when some one tapped old Mr. Walker on the 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Good morning. Signer' Testa ; come state. 
 Signer' ?" he exclaimed, as loudly as before, 
 to the gentleman who had saluted him. It 
 was Mr. Joseph Testa, the Italian from Pata- 
 gonia, whom we observed, the evening before, 
 at the coffee house. " I can give you the 
 exchange on Genoa that you desired ; you can 
 despatch it immediately. It is all right. Come 
 with me, if it suits you. You came quite apropos, 
 Signor' Testa, as if you had been _ sent for. I 
 have a secret lor you. You arc my man. 1 
 
 thought of you last night. Come along." All 
 these fragments flowed in such haste from Mr. 
 Walker's lips, that the Italian found no oppor- 
 tunity for reply. 
 
 " All very well, Mr. Walker," interrupted he, 
 at length ; " but I have first something here for 
 Signor' Roberto. Here, Signor' Bob," said he, 
 turning to the young Mr. Walker, while he hur- 
 ried to the cart, and delivered him a letter, 
 " here is a letter to one of your fellow passen- 
 gers, Mr. Hinango. It contains a letter of 
 introduction to our friend Horatio, and to your- 
 self. I desire that this traveller may be con- 
 sidered by you all as my friend and countryman. 
 He was not, to be sure, born in Italy, but my 
 fatherland acknowledges him as a son. Intro- 
 duce him to our Horatio, and farewell." 
 
 The worthy Bob promised, with hearty good 
 will, to take the best care of the letter, and 
 thanked the Italian for thus procuring him an 
 agreeable acquaintance ; whereupon the other 
 spoke to him for some time in a low voice ; he 
 then took leave of his papa, and hurried off. 
 
 " Farewell, BoU, my boy ! God bless you ! 
 Write to me soon from Rio. Pleasant voyage !" 
 cried Mr. Walker, after him, while he seized 
 Signor Testa under the arm, drew him along 
 with him, and whispered in his ear — 
 
 " You are a good Catholic — are you not .' You 
 can go into a monastery without difliculty ; not 
 as a monk — I do not desire that — I will not 
 persuade you to celibacy — but with a secret to 
 the monastery up there — that one there. Come 
 with me, first, into my cabinet." 
 
 Signore Testa followed the eccentric old man, 
 without obtaining time to thank him for the ar- 
 rangement of the e.xchange. Mr. Walker ap- 
 peared happy to be once more in possession of a 
 secret, and one, too, of so much importance that 
 he dared not speak of it in the public streets, in 
 the lightest whisper. He forcibly drew along 
 by the arm, the confidant who had appeared as 
 if " sent for," as an English steamer tows an 
 Italian bark up the Thames ; and they soon 
 disappeared amid the throng in the Calle del 
 Victoria. 
 
 '^^^^■4'S&^^^*^*^ 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BELIVEKANCE AND MEETING. 
 
 The shallop steered for the brig Nordstjernan, 
 which lay about a mile from tlie war brig. La 
 Caza, in such a direction that her course would 
 carry her past the latter. 
 
 The three men in (he stern talked about wind, 
 and weather, and war, and executions, while a 
 favorable breeze hastened their voyage. 
 
 Mr. Robert Walker furnished his two compan- 
 ions with cigars, and added the request that they 
 should keep them lighted, that he might kindle 
 another by them before they came on board, be- 
 cause the wind would render it difficult or im- 
 possible to light a match on the way. They 
 were already past the Caza, the distance of two 
 long rifle shots, when they descried an object on 
 the waves, which suddenly fixed their atf-^ntion 
 It was a person swimming, who, from til' j time.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 63 
 
 held up something round above the water, (which 
 a sailor pronounced to be a large shovel,) giving 
 himself up at one time to be the sport of the 
 waves, bv allowing himself to be borne along by 
 them, and then striking out and swimming again. 
 The natural impulses ofhumanitywere aroused in 
 the most lively manner, in the breast of each man 
 in the shallop, and, without a word of concert, 
 the boat was steered towards the singular appear- 
 ance. It was no one else than the unfortunate 
 Alvarez de la Barca, enfeebled by prolonged and 
 powerful exertion, into a kind of apathy, a tran- 
 sition state to utter exhaustion — to death. To 
 find a man in such a condition in the stream, 
 and to consult whether they should save him 
 by taking him into the shallop, never occur- 
 red to them. But the boatmen bestirred them- 
 selves the more to rescue the drowning man, 
 when they came near to him, and IVIr. Lund re- 
 cognsied in him an acquaintance, though not 
 very intimate. 
 
 " JVIy God !" exclaimed Mr. Lund, " that is 
 certainly the guitar teacher, who was lately at 
 our store, seeking a passage for Bahia ! I know 
 him by his velvet spencer, with yellow buttons ; 
 and he has even yet his instrument in his hand !" 
 
 While Mr. Lund was saying these words, the 
 boatman threw a rope to the drowning man, and 
 tried to bring the shallop near to him. He had 
 harcfly strength to hold the rope with both hands, 
 until a sailor caught him by the collar of his 
 spencer, and hastily drew him into the boat. 
 Since he had entered the Caza, the band of the 
 guitar had been slung round his neck, whereby 
 the instrument, more accidentally than inten- 
 tionally, had remained united to his fate, and had 
 partly served him, as a kind of oar, until it became 
 filled with water, when it had assumed the shovel 
 movement, (which the sailor had noticed at a 
 distance,) as he occasionally emptied it of its 
 liquid contents. Young Mr. Walker hurried to 
 open his medicine chest, which stood hear him, 
 among his other baggage, and it required all the 
 dilligence of his rescuers to bring the unfortun- 
 ate man out of danger, and to the consciousness 
 of his earthly existence. 
 
 " How in the world did you come to be in the 
 water at this distance from the shore ?" inquired 
 Mr. Lund. " Did you fall overboard from some 
 vessel .' I suppose you will hardly know me.' I 
 took you lately to a Danish captain, who was 
 bound for Bahia." 
 
 Alvarez stared at the Swede a long while, and 
 then at all the other persons in the shallop in 
 turn, and finally appeared to become conscious 
 of his situation, and to remember the clerk. He 
 emptied a glass of Madeira wine, which Captain 
 Finngreen held to his lips, and began his reply 
 in a low, feeble voice : 
 
 " I remember you very well, sir, and I thank 
 you again for your former kindness to me ; by 
 and by, perhaps, I shall find words to thank you 
 all, gentlemen, for my rescue, though it is yet 
 to be seen whether death or life be the greatest 
 benefit to me. May I beg," said he, suddenly 
 interrupting himself, and turning to one of the 
 boatmen ; " may I beg you to dry out my man- 
 doline very carefully, if it is not already unglued, 
 and then lay it in the shade." 
 
 The sailor to whom this request was addressed 
 hastened to fulfil it, while the singer, with his 
 feeble voice, continued to answer the above 
 
 questions, and the shallop flew towards the 
 
 Nordstjernan. 
 
 " Then you remember me, and perhaps zs 
 much of my circumstances, likewise, as I con- 
 fided to the captain in your presence, I could 
 find no employment as a printer here in Buenos 
 Ayres, for I was proscribed as a Unitarian, and 
 no one would compromise himself by employing 
 me. As a teacher of the guitar, I required re- 
 commendations. My treasury stood at sixty-five 
 pesos — so I sought a passage to Bahia, although 
 that sum Was hardly sufficient for it. In order to 
 save my money for the voyage, I was obliged to 
 lodge at a miserable public house, where the 
 charges were low. Some rascals who stayed 
 there, suspected or observed my intentions, and 
 although I put my purse under the straw bed at 
 night. It was stolen from me. I was now driven 
 to despair, and was in constant danger of being 
 apprehended as a Unitarian. I passed the last 
 night under the open sky ; and, sure enough, 
 was arrested this morning by a press gang for 
 Rosas' navy. Think what you will of me, when 
 I assure you that I preferred death to such a ser- 
 vice — to fight agamst my political friends. I 
 found an opportunity, as I expected, to end my 
 life — or, in the strange contradiction of my 
 feelings, to save my life — to regain my freedom, 
 and live hereafter as a Unitarian. I was takerj 
 on board the vessel, the man of war there. The 
 commander ordered me to sing the song, of which 
 the officer of the press gang had, this morning, 
 heard a few passages, which I was repeating to 
 myself, as a sort of morning prayer. I knew my 
 situation, and calculated on the consequences of 
 such a song. They were verses from the ' Ele- 
 gias de La Plata.' I selected those which were 
 most bitter against the tyrant. I had scarcely 
 ended, before a dirk was drawn upon me ; it was 
 held back, and in a second the commander, with 
 his own hands, pitched me overboard with 
 astonishing dexterity. Although at first I made 
 no effort to save myself, the stream lifted me up 
 on its waves. I was born on this river, and am 
 a practiced swimmer from childhood. Contra- 
 dictory feelings arose within me. Providence 
 does not yet seem to require my death. I find my- 
 self here, tolerably well — I still live — and there 
 is a God — and his will be done !" 
 
 A long pause followed, during which the three 
 men in the stern of the shallop looked thought- 
 fully at each other, and involuntarily considered 
 about the immediate disposition of the rescued 
 man. Captain Finngreen, who was sufficiently 
 acquainted with Spanish to catch the sense of 
 the relation, was the first to break silence, while 
 he fixed his eyes earnestly upon Mr. Walker 
 and Mr. Lund, saying in an under tone : 
 
 " A singular situation, in which this unfortu- 
 nate man has placed us, without intending it. 
 We cannot throw him overboard again — he can 
 as little go back to Buenos Ayres with you, Mr. 
 Lund ; he must go on board with me ; and we 
 may rest assured that the longboat of tlie cursed 
 brig there, will be directly steered for the 
 Nordstjernan, to reclaim him, and then they 
 will be led to entertain other suspicions, and 
 molest my cabin passengers ; and 1 would gladly 
 shield your sister from such visits, Mr. Walker." 
 
 A long silence again followed, during which 
 Mr. Lund found himself in peculiar perplexity, 
 from not knowing whether lie oug'.it to appear
 
 Gl 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 cognizant of a secret, about which the captain 
 had confidentially consulted with him, before he 
 had asireed to the request of Mr. Walker to take 
 the lady on board as passenger. 
 
 " I take it for granted, captain, that you have 
 made your countrynian, Mr. Lund, acquainted 
 with tlie circumstances of my sister, so far as 
 my f.itliev imparted them to you ?" at last began 
 Mr. Walker, who had read in the countenance of 
 his third companion what was passing in his 
 mind. He spoke these Words in a very low 
 voice, on account of the presence of the boat- 
 men, upon whose discretion, very naturally, he 
 could not count, in case they understood Eng- 
 lish. 
 
 " Mr. Lund, my.confidential friend," answered 
 the captain, " knows as much as myself in re- 
 lation to your sister, Mr. Walker ; but since we 
 can only speak of the affair among ourselves, 
 we must get on board ; and this poor man must 
 go with us — come what will. In no country of 
 tire world does there exist, according to my 
 knowledge, a law which forbids taking a man 
 out of the water when he is in danger of drown- 
 ing. Whether I may save a man's life by receiv- 
 ing him on board as a passenger, is another ques- 
 tion, and we can only talk about it on board." 
 
 The captain now turned to Alvarez, as if he 
 had not been speaking of any thing important to 
 his friends ; and asked him, with manifest sym- 
 pathy, how he felt. 
 
 The unhappy man, who appeared sunk in deep 
 reflection upon his present situation, declared 
 that he was quite well physically, and asked 
 where the vessel was bound to which the shal- 
 lop was making its way, and when it set sail. 
 
 The captain named his place of destination, 
 with the remark that he should weigh anchor, 
 and go to sea immediately, in case the wind, 
 which now appeared favorable, " held," and 
 would carry him out of the mouth of the river. 
 A glance of the persecuted Unitarian said more 
 than it would have been possible for his tongue 
 to express. 
 
 " I have a request to make to you captain," he 
 began, after a fresh pause, while his lips moved 
 as if the muscles of his organs of speech refused 
 to obey the will. " I have a request to make to 
 you, captain, but I can only speak it when I am 
 on boai'd with you ? May I go on board with 
 you .'" 
 
 In this last question lay evidently the with- 
 held request, as little as it might have been his 
 intention to utter it so plainly. 
 
 " We shall soon be on board," replied the 
 captain, with a sailor's brevity. " Come up 
 with us, and at least take something warm, as 
 Boon as possible, if it is only a cup of tea or cof- 
 fee. It will do you good, and then we will talk 
 of the rest. Here !" said he, to the crew of the 
 shallop " here is a little drink money, for the 
 lengthening of our passage while you were pick- 
 ing up this unfortunate man ; for the deed it- 
 self, of saving his life, God will reward you; if 
 I were rich, I would also offer you something." 
 
 With these words he handed the master of tlie 
 shallop a gold piece, whereupon Mr. Walker 
 took out his purse, and gave them double the 
 sum, for the moment already forgetting his fa- 
 ther's admonition in relation to generosity. The 
 design of securing the boatmen on their side, in 
 case they fell in with the mercenaries of Rosas, 
 
 governed, undoubtedly, the conduct of both, es- 
 pecially as the situation of the young lady on 
 board the Nordstjernan had become more dan- 
 gerous, apart from the feelings of humanity 
 which prompted them to the rescue of the un- 
 fortunate Alvarez. 
 
 The shallop was now beside the Nordstjernan. 
 The captain stepped on board, the others fol- 
 lowed him, while he gave orders to remove the 
 various goods and effects from the boat, and to 
 hand the boatmen a couple of bottles of wine. 
 
 " Make some good coffee for the cabin," cried 
 he to the long Ottar, as he stepped upon the quar- 
 terdeck ; " and now, gentlemen, come with 
 me," added he, turning to his companions, while 
 he took the enfeebled Alvarez under the arm, 
 and led him to the cabin steps. Hinango and 
 Horatio stood among the passengers who were 
 upon the quarterdeck, awaiting the captain's ar- 
 rival. Both had observed, through the telescope, 
 the rescue of a man from the water, and had in- 
 voluntarily taken a warm interest in the scene. 
 The nearer the shallop approached, the more 
 lively did this feeling become in Hinango, who 
 thought that he beheld, in the person rescued, a 
 man whom he had seen elsewhere, either in re- 
 ality or in a dream. 
 
 Such cases of glimmering recollection, in 
 which, as it were, we put in requisition all the 
 powers of our memory, to follow out some clue 
 of the past, to the point of contact with the ac- 
 tual present, bring us into a state of reflection, 
 as singular as painful. Remembrance is a mat- 
 ter of sentiment, of the soul ; memory is an affair 
 of the understanding. The clearness of our im- 
 pressions often becomes conditional upon the 
 greater or less excitement of feeling, through 
 the susceptibility of the mind, at the moment 
 when we receive them. Impressions which we 
 receive in the deptlis of our agitated souls, in- 
 weave themselves into our very existence — 
 while others, which excited us more superfi- 
 cially, are more easily effaced, and lose them- 
 selves in the background of our perceptions, 
 among the thousand-fold appearances of the ex- 
 ternal world. 
 
 The richer the life of a man in events, the 
 sooner do even the more lively impressions 
 which he has received into the depths of his be- 
 ing become confused, and he must set aside a 
 mass tof " old and new images in the remem- 
 brance chamber of his mind," before he can find 
 the impression of the appearance, whose search 
 has involuntarily occupied him. This displa- 
 cing and search becomes often more difficult and 
 painful when the mind, at the moment excited 
 by important events, is receiving deep impress- 
 ions, whose images glitter in all the liveliness 
 of their colours on the foreground of the percep- 
 tion, and preferably occupy us. 
 
 Hinango not only felt that he had actually 
 met the stranger somewhere, whose life had just 
 been saved, but there arose within him a faint 
 remembrance that he had held intercourse with 
 him at some eventful period, where and whenever 
 it might have been. „ Musing more and more, 
 without finding a clue which could lead him, 
 through the labyrinth of his past life, to any spot, 
 where the meeting had taken place, and at length 
 despairing at the fruitless exertion of his powers 
 of retrospection, he already experienced a sensa- 
 tion of physical suffering in the nerves of hif
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ,'S* 
 
 65 
 
 brain, as Mr. Kossbriick suddenly drew near him, 
 and accidentally blew the smoke of a genuine 
 Manilla cigar by his nose. 
 
 Whether the olfactory organs of men are most 
 closely connected with those fibres of the brain, 
 through which the nerves e.\tend whose spiritual 
 fluid operates as memory, or whether some other 
 impenetrable mystery of nature is the source of 
 a train of thought whieh, at times, places us, 
 with the speed of an electro-magnetic conductor, 
 in one or another scene of the past, when an 
 odour excites us which we there perceived with 
 
 fieculiar liveliness ? Be that as it may, it he- 
 ongs to the researches of physiology. 
 
 Scarcely had Hinango felt the lightest breath 
 of the Manilla smoke, when he found himself 
 suddenly placed in a dilapidated monastery in 
 Catalonia, in a spacious cl'U, severely wounded, 
 and saw a physician near him, who blew the 
 smoke of a Manilla cigar in his nose, thereby 
 recalling him to life; while a comrade of his 
 famed " Bataillon de la Blouse" had hold of his 
 right liand, and cried out, in a joyful tone, " He 
 lives !" 
 
 Just then Alvarez, with the captain, was ap- 
 proaching the entrance to the cabin, passing 
 Hinango, when the latter, as if struck by light- 
 ning, still inhaling the Manilla perfume, as sud- 
 denly stepped up to the rescued Unitarian, gazed 
 intently in his eyes, and under profound mental 
 agitation, cried out to him, " He lives!" 
 
 The effect of this exclamation, accompanied 
 by the appearance of a human form so suddenly 
 stepping before him, as if out of the grave of the 
 past, very naturally produced a shock in the 
 nervous oj'ganization of the sufferer. 
 
 As if dazzled, Alvarez gazed, with quivering 
 eyelids, upon the countenance of the man from 
 whom these words were directed to him, but 
 quickly attained the consciousness of recol- 
 lection, and involuntarily exclaimed, " Capitan ! 
 Dio3 y Humanidad !" It was the watchword 
 of that night, from before whose scenes the cur- 
 tain was now rolled up to the unrestricted per- 
 ception of memory. 
 
 " Come quickly with us into the cabin !" 
 whispered Captain Finngreen in the ear of Hi- 
 nango, who thereupon followed the three men 
 who had brought his comrade on board. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE TWO RIVALS. 
 
 We return on board of the Argentine war brig 
 La Caza. The death-like silence which fol- 
 lowed the intended (and to all appearance ful- 
 filled) murder, was interrupted by the continu- 
 ance of the inspection of the recruits, though 
 the clerk addressed his questions in a somewhat 
 subdued voice to the individuals who came in 
 turn before him. The commander still puffed 
 and fumed, in apparent transports of rage, 
 walking up and down on the quarterdeck ; and 
 then, hastily drawing his telescope to a focus, he 
 directed his attention to the shallop which was 
 steering for the Swedish brig. The rapid 
 novement of the stream had already carried 
 
 9 
 
 the victim of his savage fury to a considerable 
 distance. At the same moment, when he had 
 perceived the object of his scrutiny, it appeared 
 to him, as if a luiman head raised itself out of 
 the waves, and then suddenly disappeared be- 
 hind the shallop whose sail partly concealed the 
 movements of the people on board of it. 
 
 " One of the recruits desires to have the 
 honor of confiding to you something of impor- 
 tance. Captain Tumble," said Codo, who had 
 quietly approached him. 
 
 " What does the fellow want.'' grumbled he, 
 without removing the glass from his eye, " prob- 
 ably some excuse to leave the ship, I know 
 such important matters of old." 
 
 " He intimates," returned Codo," that he is 
 able to give information, concerning the author 
 of the ' Elegias de La Plata,' for whose head it 
 is known a reward is ofi'ered." 
 
 " Show him the yard there," replied the com- 
 mander, surlily " and ask him if he wants his 
 neck stretched .' if he wishes to have a rope 
 around it, and swing there .'" 
 
 " He seems certain of being able to give up 
 the author, or the authoress," returned Codo. 
 
 " Could it be a woman ? Do you mean the au- 
 thoress of the Elegies, of which the wretch 
 there lately sung some verses !" inquired the 
 commander, a little more attentive. 
 
 " So far as I have understood, he means the 
 authoress of these Elegies," returned the other, 
 " but he requires to return to the city, to a po- 
 lice officer, to register his deposition. 
 
 " To return to the city .' there, you see ! 'tis 
 all nonsense," grumbled the commander ; " the 
 fellow is afraid of the sea air, and has the can- 
 non fever, that is all." 
 
 " He speaks English, besides," continued Co- 
 do, " and desires nothing farther than to speak 
 with you alone." 
 
 " Does he speak English .'" inquired Mr. Jt 
 Tumble, taking his glass under his arm, and 
 suddenly giving his entire attention to the offi- 
 cer's account. 
 
 " He says he is a literary gentleman, from 
 Buenos Ayres, in a condition to give the best 
 referenees, upon influential English families 
 there. He asserts that he was apprehended en- 
 tirely by accident, without the least fault on his 
 part." 
 
 " Let the fellow come this way," said Mr. 
 Tumble. Codo disappeared — and after some 
 moments Perezoso stood on the quarterdeck^ 
 trembling like an aspen leaf, while the glance 
 of the captain passed from his head to his feet. 
 
 " Who are you .' and what do you want .'" said 
 Mr. Tumble to him. " What have you to say to 
 me ?" 
 
 The literary gentleman approached the com» 
 mander as nearly as his extreme fear would per- 
 mit, that he might speak to him in the lowest 
 possible tones, from a needless precaution, lest 
 his companion and rival, Serior Falsodo, who 
 stood far from him, by the foremast, sliould over- 
 hear him. 
 
 He answered the first questions concerning hb 
 person and position, with all brevity,, in a falter- 
 ing voice, for Senor Codo had not failed to whis- 
 per some words in his ear about the " yard " an(J 
 " rope around his neck," and " dangling ;" and 
 the fate of the guitar singer floated before hia 
 eyes.
 
 66 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 The brutality of the commander diminished 
 propcrtionably, the more fluently the prisoner 
 continued to speak English, though with a Span- 
 ish accent. 
 
 After he had heard the introduction to a dis- 
 closure, the object of which was in itself of so 
 much inportance, he beckoned the literary gen- 
 tleman to follow him, and retired to his cabin. 
 
 Before he descended the stairs, he called to 
 the first lieutenant, " Keep an eye on the shal- 
 lop, yonder ! send an officer to her ! I wish to 
 know whether they have drawn the Unitarian 
 dog, dead or alive, out of the water ? If they have 
 rescued him, and taken him on board the Swede, 
 he must be brought from there ; if not — if the 
 dog is entirely dead, the shallop may pass." 
 
 " I will^o myself, and meet the shallop," re- 
 turned Senor Enero, and ordered the Spanish 
 royalist to take his place in the inspection. 
 
 The captain disappeared with Perezoso. Codo 
 placed himself near the clerk, and made a re- 
 mark about the official diligence of the lieuten- 
 ant, who very wisely made no reply. 
 
 Enero stepped into a boat with twelve oars, 
 and steered in the direction of the Nordstjernan, 
 while the shallop, which had already discharged 
 her passengers and their effects, now sailed 
 towards him. 
 
 The mustering of the " instruments and tools" 
 for the maintenance of despotism on the river 
 La Plata went forward, under the guidance of 
 Codo, who would certainly rather have com- 
 manded the boat, for various reasons. The re- 
 cruits passed in review, one after the other, and 
 many who had no red riband, or did not wear some 
 red thing or another, were sharply examined. 
 
 " What is your name .'" inquired the clerk, of 
 a little fellow, dressed in black, with a broad 
 brimmed straw hat, who came next in order. 
 
 " Ignatius Loyola Falsodo," replied the pris- 
 oner. 
 
 " What are you .' what is your profession ?" 
 " I am an Agent of police, in the service of 
 government, and have a special report to make 
 to the Chief of the Police Department. I attend 
 the Unitarian there, who has gone into the 
 captain's cabin. I apprehended him last night in 
 front of the prison in which the traitor Alphonso 
 lay, who was shot this morning. I had made 
 the discovery that the plan was laid to free him. 
 I maintained my incognito towards this Unita- 
 rian, because I was on special service. You 
 understand me, gentlemen ; the police must 
 sometimes wear a mask, to go to work more 
 surely. I know that this Unitarian, Perezoso by 
 name, stands in intimate connexion with the 
 friends of Alphonso, and has assisted in the dis- 
 semination of the damned ' Elegias de La Plata.' 
 What step he is now taking to get on shore 
 again, in what manner he is seeking to delude 
 and outwit the commander, I can only suspect. 
 As concerns myself, I retpiire to remain here 
 on board as a prisoner, to write a report to 
 Borrachezo, a commissary of police; it will 
 then be confirmed that I am in the service of 
 government, and I shall be recalled to further 
 duty in the city." 
 
 Codo heard this announcement with peculiar 
 interest, and not without surprise. " Step 
 aside," said he to the police spy ; he then beck- 
 oned to a midshipman to take his place at the 
 inspection, and huiried down into the com- 
 
 mander's cabin. He found Mr. Tumble in 
 earnest conversation with Perezoso, which had 
 lost the form of a hearing, and taken that of a 
 secret conference, in which the subordinate 
 situation of the literary gentleman was set aside 
 by the importance of the disclosures. 
 
 Codo asked pardon of the commander for dis- 
 turbing him, and whispered some words in his 
 
 ear. • 
 
 Thereupon Captain Tumble sprang up, in 
 great agitation, from his seat, and with the vio- 
 lence peculiar to him, exclaimed, " It is, then, 
 true, as I at first suspected, and the fellow was 
 in the way to lead me thoroughly astray. Wait 
 now, you dog ! the rope is spun for you already I" 
 " Will you permit me to put some questions 
 to the prisoner here, to arrive at the truth the 
 sooner ?" said Codo, interrupting the pause, 
 during which the commander had become lost in 
 reflection. 
 
 " Ask him !" he replied, as morose and brief 
 as usual, and threw himself back upon the sofa, 
 looking with a tiger's glare at the faithful parti- 
 san of Rosas, who was in danger of being des- 
 patched as a Unitarian. 
 
 " Do you know a man named Falsodo ?" in- 
 quired Codo of the prisoner, who, through this 
 interruption, and the violent agitation of the 
 captain, had nearly lost all selfpossession. Less 
 than ever did the muscles of his organs of speech 
 comply with the urgency of the occasion. With 
 a quivering under lip, he replied, hesitatingly, 
 " I only know him according to his position — no 
 further. I stand in no further connexion with 
 him." 
 
 " And what is the position in which you know 
 him .'" 
 
 " He is known as a police spy — well known," 
 stammered the poor devil, not thinking, in his 
 deadly anxiety, that this title would here be the 
 best recommendation he could give to his op- 
 ponent. 
 
 " As a police agent, you would say," ex- 
 claimed Codo, now casting as triumphant a look 
 at the commander, as if he had captured an ene- 
 my's corvette. " Is any further confirmation 
 required, sir?" continued he; "does he not 
 himself state in whose company he came on 
 board ?" 
 
 "Unheard of! shameful!" exclaimed Mr. 
 Tumble ; " and to circumvent me with such 
 cunning. Me ! To endeavor to bring me upon 
 his side ! Let the police officer come down 
 here." 
 
 Codo flew up the cabin steps, and before Pere- 
 zoso had time to wipe oft", with his Rosas-red 
 handkerchief, the sweat of anxiety which stood 
 in gmat drops upon his forehead, Falsodo 
 stoolTdirectly opposite to him. 
 
 The consciousness of displaying his official 
 diligence under the protection of furious Con- 
 federados, seemed to have removed in the po- 
 lice spy all hesitation and fear, which often 
 disturbed him when he found himself amidst 
 opposing elements, as was too clearly mani- 
 fest from his conversation with Borrachezo, the 
 commissary of police, in tlie office of old Do- 
 mingo. • 
 
 " You are then in the service of government, 
 as police agent .'" inquired the commander, look- 
 ing him steadily in the eyes. 
 " For years, S'Sor Commander, as my chief,
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 G7 
 
 S'nor Borracliezo will confirm, to whom I wish 
 to send a report from here." ■, 
 
 " And how came you in prison, then ?" 
 
 " As 1 had succeeded in disturbing this Uni- 
 tarian in his plan, and having him arrested, I 
 Wiis forced tu make up my mind to pass the 
 night with him in tlie guard house, that I might 
 not lose sight of him until I found an opportuni 
 ty to commit to paper a report to my chief, 
 which I have not been able to do until now. 
 
 " It was past eleven, when we were arrested 
 My. position did not permit me to mal<e a confi- 
 dent uf the corporal or tiie lieutenant of the 
 guard. I l;new sufliciently well the mode of 
 proceeding in such cases. Either I should re- 
 main until to-day in the guard house, and would 
 then have summoned a servant of the police to 
 inform my chief wdiere 1 was, or that must hap- 
 pen which is now the case : I must find an op- 
 portunity to confide in some officer of a higher 
 rank. This I have quietly waited for here, 
 while I gave my prisoner ample opportunity to 
 unmask himself, inasmuch as I knew, before- 
 iiand, that he would make the attempt, under 
 one pretence or another, to go from on board 
 and regain his freedom." 
 
 " Miserable liar !'' exclaimed Perezoso be- 
 tween his teeth, while his knees shook, as if 
 seized with an ague fit, and he tried to sit down 
 in an arm chair, whose disjointed frame was al- 
 most broken, and cracked under him. 
 
 " Stand up !" cried Codo to him ; " prisoners 
 do not sit here, in the cabin of the commander." 
 
 Mr. Tumble had listened with great attention 
 to the spy's communication, and recognised in it 
 a certain appearance of probability, that seemed 
 worthy of a closer e.xamination. 
 
 " You are then firmly convinced that this 
 Unitarian stands in connexion with the friends 
 of the traitor, who, as I hear, was shot this 
 morning :" he asked, looking steadily into the 
 eyes of the " police officer." 
 
 " I am firmly convinced of it,"ansivered Fal- 
 sodo, more and more encouraged by the official 
 protection of the marine officer. " I am firmly 
 convinced that this Unitarian is not only en- 
 gaged in a plot witli the friends and coadjutors of 
 the executed person, but that he knows the au- 
 thor or autlioress of the infamous Elegies ; and 
 that he can at least be compelled to give the 
 name." 
 
 A long silence again ensued, while all three 
 sought to read tne impression of this declara- 
 tion on the countenance of the literary gentle- 
 man, which, like a book whose back is unglued, 
 hardly held together, while his gaze wandered 
 about unsteadily, and found no resting place. 
 
 " 1 am no Unitarian !" he at length sighed, 
 squeezing his red handkerchief together in a 
 ball ; " God knows, I am no Unitarian ! I am a 
 Confederado, and a true follower of our Regent — 
 our Director. I will do all I am able to come 
 upon the track of the author of the damned Ele- 
 gies, when I am in tlie presence of a func- 
 tionary with whom I can co-operate. My life 
 is in your hands, S'nor Commander. If you choose 
 to end it here, you make it impossible for me to 
 operate for the interest of the government in this 
 matter. Remember all the particulars which 
 
 1 gave you. Do with me what you will; 
 
 only send me as prisoner on sliore to trial, since 
 what I have to depose falls within the provLncc 
 
 of the police, of the judiciary, and not of tho 
 marine department. Consider me Unitarian, 
 until I can legally prove that I am a real Con- 
 federado, and the truest servant of our Rosas 
 that ever wore his colors." 
 
 He drew a long breath, and involuntarily un- 
 folded his red handkerchief like a flag, while the 
 sweat of anxiety streamed out more and more, 
 and required its constant use. 
 
 This brief exculpation confused the comman- 
 der, with respect to the position and prospects 
 of the literary gentleman. The blustering liurri- 
 cane of his fury, wliich had threatened to over- 
 whelm the lifeboat of the accused, became 
 transformed into a " stiff breeze of official duty." 
 The mysterious cargo of the literary gentleman 
 appeared to be of some value, and might be of 
 some use to himself. From the late declaration 
 made to him in private, it seemed evident to 
 him that Perezoso was apparently sure, on his 
 part, of arriving at the discovery of the author 
 of the Elegies ; so it very naturally remained, 
 that he would reveal his secret to any one 
 through whom he might be deprived of the re- 
 ward that was affixed to the denunciation. The 
 accusation of Falsodo in regard to the literary 
 gentleman's position as a Unitarian, might ap- 
 pear well founded in the eyes of the captain, as 
 in the contests of the political parties of our day, 
 it was by no means an impossible thing for a 
 person to become, from self interest, a traitor to 
 his own party, when a favorable opportunity 
 should be oflered. In the accuser, P'alsodo, he 
 saw nothing but the " respectable police agent," 
 who had maintained his incognito undei' the pe- 
 culiar circumstances. 
 
 Without the floating, " wooden world" of his 
 vessel, our commander knew but little of the 
 world and mankind. His contracted world was 
 the wooden district, with its cordage, copper, 
 and iron, from the maintruck to keel, and from 
 the flying jib-boom to poop-lanterns. Officers 
 and crew were subjected to his unrestrained 
 command, by the fetters of subordination in the 
 element of official duty. He exercised only ship 
 knowledge, not the knowledge of mankind. 
 Nothing was so foreign to him as character and 
 heai-t; the internal basis of the man, from whose 
 rich or desolate soil his conduct proceeds. He 
 recognised neitlier noble nor base conduct ; he 
 knew only,' Duty.' Man, as man, never came into 
 his consideration, as liumanity was a quality for- 
 eign to his nature ; and he very naturally could 
 not look for that in others, in which he himself 
 failed, and of course he had not the least idea. 
 
 Without entering into Talsodo's notions, or 
 perceiving liis contemptible meanness, he saw 
 in him only the *' officer on service," and in the 
 service too, of the same government from which 
 he so regularly received his solid monthly, and 
 which held out to him " brilliant prospects of 
 advancement.'* 
 
 As an officer on duty, he saw himself placed 
 accidentally beside the " clever and obedient po- 
 lice officer," Ignatius Loyola Falsodo, who had, in 
 a manner, taken refuge on board of his Caza, in 
 order, under his protection, and by his co-opera- 
 tion, to guard the Unitarian prisoner, Perezoso, 
 and lead him to the confession of his secret. 
 There immediately arose within him, a demand 
 for official dilligence, to sustain, to the best of his 
 power, the so called police oifioer. In the uos.si-
 
 68 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ble though improbable case, that Falsodo wag 
 not in the service of government, (which might 
 soon be ascertained,) he held himself, even on 
 this supposition, secure of his person, and of 
 course, uo oversight of duty would occur on his 
 part. 
 
 Some peculiar circumstances of his voyage re- 
 quired him to go on shore again, to an office of 
 the admiralty. After a brief consideration of the 
 importance of the mystery which Falsodo so 
 conscientiously escorted in the captured life- 
 boat of the literary gentleman, he resolved to 
 accompany his colleague in service to the office 
 of the designated commissary of police, to con- 
 vince himself, in person, of the reality of his 
 relations. 
 
 While these transactions took place in the 
 commander's cabin, Senor Enero had approached 
 the shallop in which Mr. Lund was returning 
 from the Nordstjernan. After the preliminary 
 inquiries upon which he had received orders, 
 the lieutenant found it expedient to bring the 
 shallop alongside of the Caza, that the com- 
 mander might himself receive the information 
 which he had obtained, and that he might be 
 relieved of all further responsibility in this 
 matter. 
 
 Mr. Tumble had left the cabin with his two 
 prisoners, and had gone to the quarterdeck, 
 where he now waited for the long boat. Enero 
 stepped on board, and announced, in a serious 
 official tone, that he had accomplished his er- 
 rand. 
 
 " The master of the shallop, and the young man 
 in the ^ern, there, a ship chandler's clerk from 
 the city," continued he, " declare that they 
 drew a man out of the water, and took him on 
 board. He was, as they say, in such a state of 
 phrensy, as led to the suspicion that he had inten- 
 tionally thrown himself into the stream, which 
 his further behaviour and his end ci>n6rmed. 
 He was hai-dly restored to consciousness, before 
 he seized a fitting moment to thrust aside, with 
 the strength of despair, those who had sur- 
 rounded him, jumped overboard, and sank to 
 rise no more. From some words which he mut 
 tered in his delirium, it appeared evident that 
 he took the .Swedish brig for a man of war, and 
 the fear of falling again into the hands of the 
 Confcdcrados, moved him to suicide." 
 
 Captain Tumble heard this report, like any 
 other, without receiving any impression from it, 
 which did not belong to the service, and mut- 
 tered to himself — " The hardiness of his beha- 
 vior here on board, as a first attempt to end his 
 life upon a yard or in the stream, certainly 
 agrees very well with his end. The fellow was 
 crazy, like all Unitarians, and belonged to the 
 madhouse, like them all. 'Tis a pity that I did 
 not first have him tied over a cannon. He ought 
 to have been soundly flogged, before 1 threw him 
 overboard ; it is vexatious to think that I neg- 
 lected that. But I was heated, overcome by an 
 impulse of generosity, of humanity, as the Uni- 
 tarians call it. It is a pity !" 
 
 " The barret and guitar of the madman lie 
 there in the shallop," remarked Enero, with ap- 
 pai-ent indiflerence, while the commander cast a 
 glance at Falsodo, whose presence warned him 
 of the expedition to the police office. 
 
 " The guitar ? that appears worth more than 
 the fellow himself," returned he, alter a pause ; 
 
 " let it be brought up here — I know a lady who 
 can use it," 
 
 " And the barret, besides ?" inquired Enero, 
 in the same tone as before, while the " confisca- 
 tion of the eilects" of the drowned man was 
 taking place. 
 
 " The barret .'" returned Mr. Tumble, while 
 he considered it anew ; " that has great similar- 
 ity with a Scottish Highland bonnet, if it did not 
 have that long tassel on it. Let it ba thrown 
 into my cabin for the present." 
 
 " If you mean to keep it on board, Senor com- 
 mander, do give it to the Irishman, the lifer, 
 who has nothing upon his head but his fiery red 
 hair," said Enero. 
 
 " The Irishman there," said the captain, " the 
 fellow who sprang to the assistance of the damned 
 Unitarian ? what ails you ? I would rather take 
 otf the tassel, and wear it myself." With these 
 words, he snatched the barret from the hands of 
 the boatman who had taken possession of the 
 confiscated property, and threw it into his cabin, 
 through the skylight. 
 
 " Is there nothing else left on board, that be- 
 longs to the Unitarian dog ?" he asked, while he 
 leaned over the bulwark and looked down. 
 
 '* Nothing but the wet place here in the stern, 
 where we laid him down," replied the boatman, 
 with an ironical smile. 
 
 " What passengers did yon take on board .'" 
 inquired the commander, further. 
 
 " Only one, S'nor Capitan" replied he, " a 
 young Englishman from the Calle del Victoria." 
 Do you not know his name .'" The boat- 
 man looked at the ship chandler's clerk, as if to 
 intimate that he could give the required informa- 
 tion. 
 
 It was Mr. Robert Walker, who went on 
 board with the captain," answered iVIr. Lund. 
 
 .43 Seiior Perezoso heard this name, the mus- 
 cles of his face were set in motion, and he was 
 on the point of making a loud exclamation to the 
 captain, but his rival, Falsodo, stood close to him, 
 and, as it were- held the fibres of his counte- 
 nance "under police control." The possibility 
 that Senora Dolores might sail with young Mr. 
 Walker was extremely probable to the literary 
 gentleman, but, nevertheless, he dared not take 
 any steps to direct the attention of others to the 
 Swedish vessel, much less to point out theauthor- 
 ess of the Elegies, as long as he remained under 
 a twofold arrest, and wou'd thus, through the in- 
 trigues of Falsodo, lose all prospect of the ex- 
 pected reward. 
 
 " What is the name of that Swedish brig 
 there !" inquired the captain, without any par- 
 ticular object. 
 
 " Nordstjernan," replied Mr. Lund, with a 
 movement in the stern of the shallop as if pre- 
 paring himself to return to the city. 
 
 The commander appeared to recollect him- 
 self for a moment, and then exchiimed, " The 
 shallop may pass oil!" and turned to the lieuten- 
 ant, saying, in a surly, official tone, " 1 am going 
 ashore in the cutter, with these two here. A 
 
 corporal and six men lor the cutter ! choose 
 
 trusty men of our old stock. Codo, with the 
 
 long boat, to the brig there ! the passengers' 
 
 passports must be strictly examined; the Isst of 
 their names must betaken. 
 
 " 1 see the brig is preparing to set sail," he 
 added, hastily, looking at the NordstjernaD.
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 69 
 
 Lose no time, and besides, ' Pronto para hacerse 
 a la vela !' ( ready for sailing) before I return." 
 
 Codo received the order, as a starving man 
 would the order to go to the baker for bread. He 
 girded on his sword, stucic two pistols in his 
 ^ belt, and jumped into the longboat, at the same 
 ' time that the commander, with his two prisoners, 
 stepped into the cutter, and pushed off from the 
 Caza. 
 
 b.#^^^«rf^''<. — 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 OU) AND NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 
 
 The position of Alvarez, on board the Nord- 
 stjernan, had increased to the utmost the peril 
 which hovered over Dolores. But, nevertheless, 
 the captain did not for an instant appear unre- 
 solved to keep the unfortunate man on hoard, if 
 possible, and became the more confirmed in his 
 highhearted purpose, as the meeting between 
 him and Hinango gave a sort of moral guarantee 
 in regard to the person of the persecuted man. 
 
 "You know this man, then .'" inquired Captain 
 Finngreen of Hinango, svhen they found them- 
 selves in the cabin, and he had thrown aside his 
 hat, for his head was warm. 
 
 " I know him as a man of honor, as a comrade 
 in the Spanish war of the revolution," asserted 
 Hinango, " and am, besides, under an obligation 
 of gratitude to him, for the personal attachment 
 and fidelity wliich he showed to me when my 
 life was in danger." 
 
 " Well, then," said the noble seaman, " we 
 must counsel together, how to get him away, 
 how we can hide him, for we may be certain of 
 a strict visit from the man of war, there." 
 
 " That will not long be delayed," observed 
 Mr. Walker, " for the commander of the Caza, 
 is an Englishman, who understands his duty, 
 and a diligent servant of our Don Juan Manuel de 
 Rosas. A good deal depends upon which of the 
 officers he sends to us ; I know nearly all of 
 them, and have often breakfasted on board." 
 
 " So much the better," interrupted the cap- 
 tain, " but how shall we hide thi^ friend here .' 
 that is tlie question." 
 
 A long pause of silent consultation ensued ; 
 each seemed to meditate a plan, but to hesitate 
 in producing it, in the hope of yet finding a bet- 
 ter. 
 
 " He must not go any more on deck ; a glass 
 from the man of war may be directed towards us, 
 and then all would be lost," whispered tlie cap- 
 tain at last. The shallop will probably be hailed 
 by the brig when it returns. Our plan must be 
 preconcerted." He directed the last words to 
 Mr. Lund, who replied with decision, " I will 
 hurry on deck and speak to the boatmen, wdio 
 have already received some gold pieces ; tliat 
 class of people may be relied upon ; they are 
 sailors, and will not bring an unfortunate man to 
 the scafi'uld, who has committed no other crime 
 than that of loving his country." He disappeared 
 at this remark, and Captain Finngreen contin- 
 ued : " Tliis opening, here, leads into a narrow 
 epace, which is connected with the ship's hold 
 by another. I will step down with our friend,] 
 
 and let him slip in as far as possible, between 
 
 barrels and boxes, and will then throw buffalo 
 hides and sails, over the cargo, leaving as much 
 air as is necessary for him to breathe. Before 
 the opening, down here, we will stow as many 
 trunks and boxes as will go in the space, and on 
 these we will stand a sliip's chest. The great 
 hatch in the middle of the vessel is already 
 covered. Whoever wishes to examine into this 
 space, must go down tiirough the little forward 
 hatch, and will have to creep a long while be- 
 fore he comes to the back part, where I will, 
 with my own hands, take measures that they 
 shall not easily discover him'. Explain this now 
 as quickly as possible to the good man, in Span- 
 ish," continued he, turning to Mr. Walker, 
 ** and I will step down to work." 
 
 " You require a pair of hands to help," whis- 
 pered Hinango in his ear. " I will go down 
 with you, captain ; I am not entirely unaccus- 
 tomed to such games of ' hide and seek.' " 
 
 Captain Finngreen thankfully accepted the 
 passenger's ofler, and both disappeared through 
 the opening in the floor, while Mr. Walker dis- 
 losed to the unfortunate man the measures about 
 to be taken for his deliverance, who, deeply 
 moved, found few words to express his grati- 
 tude for so lively an interest in his fate. 
 
 Mr. Lund reappeai-ed in the cabin, with the 
 assurance that he had arranged every thing so as 
 to gain over the boatman, and had no doubt that 
 his plan would succeed; he required, however, 
 for his purpose, the mandoline and cap of the 
 rescued man, which had already been seen on 
 board the Caza. 
 
 " My mantle, besides, floats somewhere on 
 the stream, or is hanging to the man of war," 
 said Alvarez, entirely agreeing to the proposal 
 of his friend. 
 
 Mr. Lund now took a hurried leave, since his 
 longer continuance on board the Nordstjernan 
 might excite suspicion ; whereupon the shallop 
 departed, and soon drew near to the longboat of 
 the Caza, which, under Enero's command, glided 
 over the waves towards them. 
 
 While the packing of the living contraband 
 article was taking place in the hold of the 
 ship, Mr. Robert Walker undertook tlie equally 
 important measure of drawing his clerk, Mr. 
 Daily, into his confidence, and then speaking to 
 Mr. Rossbriick, whose name he knew " on 
 'change," he requested him to be cautious not to 
 say or do any thing to attract the attention of the 
 German doctor. 
 
 Horatio, who was hastily made acquainted with 
 all the circumstances, was charged with the diffi- 
 cult task of tranquillizing the old negro and Co- 
 rinna, from whose anxiety in relation to Dolores, 
 the worst was to be feared. The youth explained 
 the circumstances to them both, with the same 
 firmness and selfpossession which we liave be- 
 fore observed in him, and by his example, he 
 unconsciously worked more effectually on the 
 agitated minds of hia auditors than by his words. 
 He had just sent Corinna to Dolores, to pre- 
 pare her for an investigation which might be 
 carried even to the threshold of her apartment, 
 when a sailor gave the announcement that the 
 long boat of the Caza, was once more steering 
 for the Nordstjernan. 
 
 The refugee had just been carefully stowed 
 away, in the hold of tha vessel, and Captain
 
 70 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Finnsxeen and Hinango xvere already upon the 
 quarter deck, where the other passengers assem- 
 bled around them, all looking forward %Tith ear- 
 nest expectation to the arrival of the visiters, 
 while the mate ordered the crew to keep on 
 undisturbed in their preparations for sailing, 
 without concerning themselves about the pre- 
 sence of the marines on board. 
 
 The captain ordered one anchor to be raised, 
 the more quickly to make sail if the impending 
 danger should be happily passed througli. The 
 firm confidence of the seaman in the compe- 
 tency of his preparations for the approaching 
 visit, unconsciously increased the courage of the 
 anxious bystanders, and called out from many 
 countenances an expre's'sion of tranquillity and 
 cai-elessness which was more than iiecessary to 
 meet the inquisitorial look of the officer. 
 
 " It is not the same officer who commanded 
 the longboat when it hailed the shallop," re- 
 marked the captain, examining the fatal object 
 ■with his telescope ; " it is a smaller man ; the 
 other appeared to me tall and slender ; and this 
 time tliere are soldiers there, with bayonets." 
 
 " Bring a dozen glasses and some bottles of 
 champagne up here !" cried he, to the cabin boy, 
 alter a pause. 
 
 " A dozen glasses and some bottles of cham- 
 pagne !" returned the long Ottar, as the mate and 
 sailors repeat each order^ by itself, as soon as it 
 sounds in their ears. " But the coffee for the 
 cabin is ready, captain !" added he, and he was 
 on the point of inquiring, whether he should 
 take a cup to the newly arrived passenger, when 
 he fortunately recollected himself, as the in- 
 struction suddenly occurred to him, that he 
 must act as if he had not seen any wet passenger. 
 " Then bring the coffee first !" cried the cap- 
 tain, after him ! " Cofl'ee first !" returned Ottar, as 
 if it were " square the yards," and hurried to 
 the cook in the caboose. 
 
 Mr. Robert Walker improved this moment of 
 suspense, to hand the envelope of Mr. Testa to 
 his fellow voyager, Mr. Hinango, who appeared 
 to have expected such a parcel, and handed over 
 the enclosed letter to Horatio with peculiar 
 pleasure. 
 
 Joseph Testa, a jurist of Bologna, played a 
 conspicuous part in the insurrection for the de- 
 liverance of Italy, in the years 1S30-31, had 
 been sentenced to death, like so many other pa- 
 triots, and, having escaped as a refugee, was ex- 
 iled. He succeeded in reaching Marseilles from 
 Genoa, and from thence arrived at Buenos 
 Ayres, where he lived for some years, until he 
 purchased land in Patagonia. Originally ad- 
 dressed to the house of Walker and Co., as a 
 travelling gentleman, he had entered into a bu- 
 siness intercourse with old Mr. Walker, and was 
 intimately acquainted with many of the patri- 
 ots of the country— among the rest, with Al- 
 phonso. . 
 
 Horatio received the communication of^ his 
 friends, and a gleam of joy and animation flitted 
 over his countenance, which was lighted up 
 still more as he read further into the letter that 
 he held in his trembling hand. 
 
 " Is it possible ?" he exclaimed, in a smoth- 
 ered voice, stepping aside with Hinango, " is 
 it possible ! you are a confidential friend of 
 Senor Testa, in the same situation with him, and 
 have come especially to Buenos Ayres for our 
 
 sake, to seek out our uncle, Alphonso, and Se- 
 nora Dolores .'" 
 
 " I came too late," said Hinango ; " too late 
 for Alphonso, and God grant that I may have 
 come in the right time to save Dolores ! I had 
 already heard, in Montevideo, of your uncle's 
 arrest. My errand referred especially to him, . 
 and to one "of his most confidential friends, whose 
 name you will easily guess. His fate was yet 
 unknown in Monte Video. I did not find him, 
 but I saw his head on the iron grating of the 
 Plaza de la Victoria. The danger impending 
 over Dolores was now all the greater ; I, there- 
 fore, the more readily resolved upon the journey, 
 sailed across the mouth of the river, and arrived, 
 partly by land, at Buenos A\Tes. Testa waited 
 for me liere. The strictest caution was neces- 
 sary. To save Dolores, I must appear as if I did 
 not even know her by name. All had to be 
 managed through Testa. The fortunate con- 
 currence of different circumstances, united in 
 behalf of our taking ship ; the freighting of the 
 Nordstjernan, and the individuality of the cap- 
 tain, to whom, until to-day, I was, likewise, 
 personally, a stranger. Send to your t'riend 
 Dolores the consolatory information of my . 
 presence on board, for her succor. I perceive 
 that the young negress is initiated in all the 
 secrets of our situation ; let her take these lines, 
 with the necessary explanations, to Dolores ; but 
 bring back the letter, for these leaves must be 
 destroyed before the oflBcer there steps upon the 
 vessel." 
 
 Horatio hurried into the cabin to Corinna and 
 Achilles, while Hinango handed a piece of 
 paper out of the envelope to Mr. Robert Walker, 
 who read it over very hastily. " 1 am already 
 advertised of this by word of mouth, through our 
 friend Testa," returned the young Briton, with 
 a good humored smile, as he glanced over the 
 lines ; " I am rejoiced to have a companion in 
 the defender of my ' sister.' We could now get 
 clear, if that cursed longboat was only going 
 from us, instead of coming to us. You are 
 heartily welcome, but I must confess that our 
 friend Testa understands managing a secret bet- 
 ter than my father, who never suspected your 
 reasons for embarking." 
 
 " It is all right, if you know it now, Mr. 
 Walker," said Hinango, smiling ; " and if the 
 captain learns it from you opportunely, when it 
 shall be necessary, when circumstances shall 
 require me to render him any assistance as a 
 seaman." 
 
 " All right ! all right !" exclaimed Mr. Robert 
 Walker ; " the whole management of the em- 
 barkation falls on me ; and the captain," added 
 he, very low, and half aside, " has acted like a 
 fool, to send away the two boxes from on board." 
 Hinango did not understand the meaning of 
 the last words, and felt no direct occasion to 
 inform himself further in regard to them. 
 
 " Our secret requires the destruction of these 
 letters," whispered he, in the ear of young 
 Walker, as Horatio returned with his, and then 
 said aloud, " Would you like a cigar, Mr 
 Walker ? I am going to light mine presently." 
 " All right ! all right !"''cried Bob, helping 
 himself to a "smoking stick," while the latter 
 stepped to the caboose and burnt the papers.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 71 
 
 chapter; IV. 
 
 THE VISITATION'. 
 
 Haudly were these precautionary meai5ures 
 tiOien, before the .Swedish brig was hailed IVom 
 I he longboat of the Caza; and Senor Codo, 
 armed with sword and pistols, sprung upon the 
 quarterdeck, and posted six so called marines 
 (a woful looking set) with their guns as a guard. 
 
 " Are you the captain of this vessel ?" inquired 
 Codo, as -Captain Finngreen stepped up to him 
 in the gangway. 
 
 " Captain Finngreen, at your service !" an- 
 swered the latter. 
 
 " What is the brig's name ?" 
 
 " The Nordstjernan !" 
 
 " Call your passengers and crew on deck, and 
 hand me your papers, passenger list, and muster 
 roll ; but first bring out the man that you have 
 concealed here, that you brought on board in 
 the shallop !" 
 
 " Passengers and crew, on deck !" cried the 
 captain to the mate. " Here are my papers ; as 
 to a man on board from the shallop, 1 know noth- 
 4 ing about it ; it must be a mistake !" 
 
 " Come, don't make a fuss about it, captain ! 
 produce him, or I shall have him searched for ; 
 and then you will fare hardly !" 
 
 " I am sorry that I cannot obey your com- 
 mands in this respect. If you will give your- 
 self the trouble of searching my vessel, I cannot 
 prevent you." 
 
 " Four men up here, to search the brig !" cried 
 the officer, to the men in the longboat ; and as 
 the fourth man, appeared Patrick Gentleboy, 
 who, notwithstandmg, his position as land 
 traveller and passenger an board the Caza, had 
 been ordered into service in the longboat, as 
 there was no superfluity of good rowers like him 
 on board. 
 
 " .Stay in the boat !" roared Codo to him ; 
 another man here ! I cannot employ you here !" 
 
 " Beg pardon, your honor ! and sure I've no 
 nade of employment, intirely ! for I am ' employed 
 to rest,' an it's quite waried I am, wid the long 
 pull you gev me," said the Irishman, falling back 
 into the boat, to give place to another sailor. 
 
 " Arrali ! and if there isn't his cloak swim- 
 ming, the poor crature !" exclaimed Patrick, as 
 he seated himself, " and there it is, fast to an 
 anchor buoy, and the tide is agin it, and it 
 can't make sail wid this wind, sure." 
 
 All eyes were directed to the object thus 
 pointed out, and the captain remarked : 
 
 "That certainly seems like a cloak or mantle, 
 and may have belonged to the unfortunate man, 
 who threw himself overboard from the shallop, 
 just after we had picked him up." 
 
 Senor Codo appeared to reflect for a moment, 
 doubtful of the result of his proceedings, for 
 he had until then suspected the asssertion of the 
 boatman, and sought to attain his end by his in- 
 solent demands. 
 
 " Search the brig thoroughly ; the fellow must 
 oe hidden somewhere !" he now repeated to the 
 lailors, who stood there in a state of embarrass- 
 ment, and appeared not to know where they 
 ihould begin, while each of them would have 
 .een glad to creep into a hole, himself, and 
 desert. 
 
 " Let the people search the vessel, lieuten- 
 
 ant !" interposed Mr. Walker, " only accompany 
 me first to the cabin door of my sister, who lies 
 ill in her birtli, overcome by sea sickness. I 
 hope you will take this part of the search upon 
 youself, and not disturb my sister." 
 
 " You are Mr. >" 
 
 " Mr. Walker ! Mr. Robert William Walker !" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! we are already acquainted ;" re- 
 turned the officer, who held the list of passen- 
 gers in his hand, and read the name there. 
 
 " At your service ! I am a friend of your com- 
 mander, captain Tumble, as you know. How 
 is the commander .' I hope he is very well ?" 
 
 " Thank you, very well !" replied the other, 
 in a dry tone. " You are then going to Rio Ja- 
 neiro, and your sister is on board .' Will you have 
 the goodness to accompany me to her ?'' 
 
 "I believe she is asleep, just now. I will 
 open the door for you. I give you my word, that 
 the man whom you are seeking, is not hidden 
 with my sister, even if he were on board." 
 
 " I believe that readily ; but I must, notwith- 
 standing, be convinced of the presence of your 
 sister on boai'd." 
 
 At these words, Senor Codo followed the 
 young Englishman, who softly opened the door 
 of the private cabin, and the oflicer cast a sharp 
 look into the interior. 
 
 " Let me beg you not to wake her ; ladies do 
 not feel very comfortable on board at any time," 
 whispered Mr. Walker, while Codo saw a fe- 
 male form in a berth, and a quantity of female 
 travelling necessaries, behind which no Unita- 
 rian could find room to hide himself. 
 
 " Pardon me that I was obliged to institute 
 this search. Your sister appears to have been 
 born here ; she has as fine, black, curling hair as 
 a daughter of South America," added the officer, 
 
 " Our beauties of Albion not only vie with 
 yours here on the La Plata in their curls, but 
 also in all other endowments," returned the 
 young Briton, with a proud smile. 
 
 " And these persons are my attendants," he 
 remarked in a calm serious tone. " My old ne- 
 gro Achilles and his daughter Coriuna, the 
 waiting maid of my sister !" 
 
 " Why do they weep so .' Their eyes are as 
 red as the lees of Burgundy." 
 
 " They have never been away from the shore,'' 
 replied the youth, " and are as afraid of the sea. 
 as a hen of the pond." 
 
 The officer looked around in the gi-eat cabin, 
 and then ascended to the quarterdeck. 
 
 " Do you believe that 1, as a son of the house 
 who have freighted this vessel," said young Mr. 
 Walker to the officer, " do you really believe 
 that I would have suffijred a deserter or Unita- 
 rian to conceal himself on board, even if such 
 a chance had occurred ? It is to be hoped that 
 you know my father's position — his confidential 
 relations with the ministry. This vessel goes to 
 sea under our name. The vagabond whom the 
 people in the shallop drew out of the water, 
 sprang overboard again before we could deter- 
 mine what was to be done with him. In any 
 case we should have sent him back to the city, 
 as a candidate for the madhouse rj the house of 
 correction — since the name of our house would 
 have required it." 
 
 The officer heard the young Englishman's 
 declaration with " half an ear," but appeared 
 partly led astray bf the unrestrained naiveti
 
 72 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 which accompanied it. He now proceeded to an 
 examination of the passengers, compared the 
 passports with the list of names, copied the last 
 into his pooketbook, and examined each indi- 
 vidual from head to foot, as if he hoped to dis- 
 cover the object of his search under one mask 
 or another. 
 
 " Mr. Ros.sbriick appeared on deck, and was 
 now examined, and gave his name. 
 
 " Mr. William Rossbriick," repeated SeSor 
 Codo to him ; " what countryman .'" 
 
 " An Enfrlishman !" answered he, not without 
 some embarrassment, since Mr. Walker stood 
 Dear him. 
 
 " You an Englishman ?" inquired Mr. Walker 
 of him, with an ironical smile, but without any 
 asperity in his tone, which might wound him — 
 from consideration, which the secret on board, 
 rendered necessary, in which the other waspartly 
 involved. 
 
 " Yes sir," returned- the pseudo Briton, " my 
 brother is estaplished in London, and has mar- 
 riet an English voman." 
 
 "Indeed!" said the other, smilinp; as inno- 
 cently as possible, without asking whether he was 
 the son of his brother, and the English woman. 
 
 An involuntary redness had overspread the 
 countenance of the young gentleman from the 
 European continent, but his end was gained, he 
 saw that the ofEcer had added the word IngUs 
 alTer his name. 
 
 " Your standing and profession ?" further in- 
 quired the latter. 
 
 " Gentleman !" was the answer, for Mr. Ross- 
 briick had travelled in Germany and Sw'itzer- 
 land, and had not ohly observed that every sad- 
 dler, or shopkeeper from England, inscribed 
 his name, with this title added to it, in the for- 
 eign registers, but also carved it with his own 
 hand on the Rigi and the Weissenstein. 
 
 The naturalist came next in order, gave his 
 name, and replied to the question about his na- 
 tionality. 
 
 " I am an Anhalt-Bernburger, a subject of his 
 Highness, the l>uke of Anhalt-Bernburg." 
 
 " An-halt-Bern-bur-ger," repeated the Span- 
 iard in the service of Rosas ; " what nation is 
 that .' I do not know the flag ; the country must 
 lie somewhere in the interior of Europe. 
 
 " It is one of the thirty-four small nations 
 ■which supply princes and princesses for the 
 European thrones, and emigrants for transat- 
 lantic and other colonies," returned Mr. Walker, 
 very seriously. 
 
 " Oh I" said the officer, and added the ques- 
 tion, " what standing .' what profession .'" 
 
 " Entomologist ; Doctor of Philosophy ; Cor- 
 responding Member of the Royal, Imperial, and 
 Grand Ducal Academies of Science, at Vienna, 
 Berlin, Detmold and Kniephausen ; Honorary 
 Member of the Zoological Societies of St. Pe- 
 tersburgh and Weimar ; Member of the Basle 
 Bible .Society ; and Honorary Member of the 
 British Temperance Society." 
 
 " What is the man properly ?" inquired Senor 
 Codo, quite confused by this string of titles, a 
 yard long, of which he understood very little. 
 
 " Set him down as a literary gentleman," 
 remarked Mr. Walker ; " that will about express 
 all the titles." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed the Jittle man, evidently 
 displeased ; " literary gentleman .' Literary may 
 
 do, but gentleman — gentleman ! that I object fr>' 
 I am no gentleman — no Englishman ; but an 
 Anhalt-Bernburger, and will not dress myself 
 in borrowed plumes. I am neither a Prussian, 
 nor a Saxon, nor a Wiirtemberger. I know my 
 home, and the name of my reigning prince, and 
 when his birthday comes. Spell it, now, cor 
 rectly : An-halt-Bern-burger, not Anhalt-Des 
 sauer — no sow " 
 
 The officer gave little heed to this exhortation, 
 and went on with his inspection. - 
 
 " Your name .'" inquired he of the passenger 
 in the monkey paletot. > 
 
 " Ormar Olafur Hinango," answered the latter, 
 slowly and distinctly. 
 
 Captain Finngreen, who stood near him, ap- 
 peared suddenly so surprised by the sound of 
 this name, that it evidently cost him great effort 
 to conceal his inward emotion. After a side 
 glance at the mate, Mr. Storhjelm, he turned 
 his eyes to the passenger, about whom, until 
 now, he had not been able 'to make up his mind, 
 and whose thoroughly northern name he now 
 heard for the first time. 
 
 " What nation .'" inquired the officer. 
 
 " Scandinavian — born in Finland." | 
 
 " Finland ! that belongs to the Swedish 
 crown, if I am not mistaken .'" 
 
 *' It belongs to Scandinavia, and was united to 
 Sweden, but fell accidentally under Russian 
 sovereignty." 
 
 " You are, then, a Russian subject .' What 
 standing .'" 
 
 " P'ormerly Russian naval ofEcer." 
 
 " What rank ?" 
 
 ** Lieutenant commander of a brig." 
 
 " W'hat was the name of your last brig in the 
 imperial Russian navy .'" 
 
 " Kamtschatka." 
 
 The Spanish naval officer heard these replies 
 with a certain nautical sympathy, which seldom 
 is wanting in the heart of a seaman, as soon as 
 he comes in contact with his equal, either from 
 a strange race, or from one kindred to himself. 
 
 " Commander of a brig in the imperial Rus- 
 sian navy, at present out of service," he re- 
 peated, slowly, while he allowed his pencil to 
 rest on his note book, and again observed his 
 ocean comrade and his passport. 
 
 " But you carry a French, not a Russian pass- 
 port," remarked he, with peculiar intonation. 
 
 " I find it more suitable to my situation to 
 travel under French protection, especially as the 
 French language is better understood in foreign 
 countries than the Russian," replied Hinango, 
 with indifference. 
 
 " When did you leave your brig, and the naval 
 service?" inquired the other. 
 
 " It is six years since I transferred from the 
 navy into the marine department, at St. Peters- 
 burgh." 
 
 "And you are travelling, now, for your 
 pleasure '." 
 
 " I sought a southern climate for the re-estab- 
 lishment of my health, and have now a notion 
 of taking a merchant vessel — of purchasing one 
 for myself. I came here on that account, having 
 learned at Rio de Janeiro that a Danish brig, 
 from St. Thomas, was offered for sale here ; but 
 I came too late. It is the little brig down there," 
 continued he, pointing to a vessel in the distance; 
 " she had already found one to fancy her."
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 73 
 
 " I know the brig," replied Senor Codo ; " you 
 have not lost much in her ; she is a heavy old 
 box — a wretched sailer. Would you not lilie to 
 enter our service ? Our government would 
 gladly give you command of a corvette. Capa- 
 ble naval officers, who join us, find immediate 
 advancement." 
 
 " I thank you for your confidence," replied 
 the Russian naval officer ; " I wish to see if I 
 can procure a Baltimore schooner at Rio de 
 Janeiro, which I have already inspected; if 
 that is not the case, it is possible that I may 
 arrange other plans for the future, and return 
 hither again." 
 
 " In any case, you will find a welcome with 
 us," Seiior Codo remarked. 
 
 Captain Finngreen, who had perceived this 
 amicable discourse of the two officers with great 
 surprise, as well as to his inward relief, in 
 respect to the immediate situation of the pas- 
 sengers, now stepped up to a bench on which 
 bottles and glasses were set, and said, " Will 
 you permit a seaman, who, indeed, wears no 
 naval uniform, to empty a glass with you, to the 
 welfare of the Argentine republic, and to the 
 future destiny of our fatherland — Scandinavia !' 
 
 " Scandinavia ! Scandinavia ! star of the north, 
 break brightly forth !" he whispered in the ear 
 of the passenger in the monkey paletot, while 
 their glances encountered each other. 
 
 Hinango replied to the heart's greeting by an 
 expressive glance. 
 
 " I have some passengers, and all the crew to 
 examine," answered the officer, " but I will by 
 no means decline your seaman's invitation ; then : 
 Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran los 
 salvages Unitarios ' Viva Rosas ! and the Emperor 
 Nicholas !" he cried, while he raised his glass. 
 
 " Rosas and the Emperor Nicholas," repeated 
 the two Northmen, without particular emphasis, 
 although mentally added, " may they come to 
 the gallows." 
 
 " And our Queen, Victoria !" exclaimed Mr. 
 Walker. 
 
 " Her IVIajesty's, Queen Vic-tories' health !" 
 cried Mr. Rossbriick in his overflowing enthusi- 
 asm as an Englishman. 
 
 , " And the illustrious dynasty of the house of 
 Anhalt-Bernburg, his Highness ! and all the 
 Princes of the Germanic Confederation ! If you 
 are going to drink, I will drink with you," said 
 the little beetleman, taking the glass which the 
 captain handed to him. 
 
 " And the British Temperance Society, and all 
 its travelling members !"said Mr. Robert Walker, 
 with a smile, and looking at the little man, who 
 did not take it at all amiss. 
 
 " I hope there is no brandy in your cham- 
 pagne, captain !" he remarked, in reply to this 
 look, " for 1 must not drink brandy ; but a glass 
 of wine; I will take a glass of wine, upon my 
 conscience ! now ! gentlemen, altogether !" and 
 the British temperance man drained his glass to 
 the last drop, and then said, with a satisfied air, 
 " Captain, that was right good — 1 have not drank 
 such champagneJbr a long time." 
 
 " I am glad that you like it," replied Captain 
 Fingreen, laughing, and replenishing the glasses. 
 
 " But you do not drink at all !" said he, per- 
 ceiving a yet untasted glass, and near it Horatio, 
 " Why do you not drink ? the wine will not hurt 
 vou .'" said he. 
 ' 10 
 
 Horatio was just expressing his thanks and 
 excuses, as Senor Codo suddenly directed his 
 attention to him, and then-hastily looked at the 
 list of passengers. 
 
 " You are Horatio de P ?" he now asked 
 
 the pale youth, with a look that expressed aU 
 the bitterness of a raging party spirit. 
 
 " My name is Horatio de P !" replied the 
 
 young man, looking thd Dictator's merceuaiy 
 "boldly in the eye. 
 
 " Nephew of the traitor, Marco Alphonso, 
 who was executed this morning ?" added the offi 
 cer, contemptuously, " only son of the rebel 
 Hannibal Sebastian de P ?" 
 
 " 1 am the son of Hannibal Sebastian, and the 
 nephew of Marco Alphonso," replied Horatio 
 slowly, and with decision, while captain Finn 
 green was unable entirely to suppress his unea 
 siness, and cast an anxious glance at young 
 Walker. 
 
 " My passport lies there, near the others," re- 
 marked the youth, with assumed indifference. 
 
 " You are banished then, and disinherited— 
 at least disinherited in part " 
 
 " You seem to know my situation," replied 
 the youth. 
 
 Serior Codo continued the examination of tho 
 passports, while Horatio placed himself in a 
 solitary position, on the quarterdeck, and fixing 
 his eyes upon the shore, repeated, mentally, the 
 following verses : 
 
 *' Farewell, my dear, my nativeland, farewell t 
 
 From which Pm exiled by a despot's curse, 
 Farewell ! but if forever — who can tell ? 
 
 Beloved soil, which did my childhood nurse, 
 Farewell, my country — know thy destiny ! 
 
 reople for whom my kindred blood was shed, 
 God lives \ who shall from tyrants set us free? 
 
 Though still a youth, man's woes are on my head." 
 
 A natural connexion of ideas, or relation- 
 ship of feeling, suddenly called to his mind a 
 stanza from Walter Scott's " Lay of the Last 
 Minstrel," which Dolores, had translated into 
 Spanish with many other gems of English poe- 
 try. Modern cosmopolitism , will most assuredly 
 consider the mental malady of the enthusiastic 
 youth, and the like poetical reminiscences, 
 quite superfluous, as it casts aside as useless bag- 
 gage the terms " fatherland" and " patriotism," 
 and makes of man a " respectable vagabond, "who 
 with the freedom-papers of egotism, without duty 
 towards his nation and humanity, wanders about 
 the world, and places his marriage bed where 
 he makes money to buy a mattress with. Not- 
 withstanding this, Horatio repeated to himself, 
 as he would a verse from a psalm, the following 
 lines : 
 
 " Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, 
 ■Whonevei to himself hath said, 
 
 ' This is my own, my native land V 
 Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
 As home his footsteps he hath turned, 
 
 From wandering on a foreign strand? 
 If such there breathe, go, mark him welij 
 For him no minstrel raptures swell ; 
 High though his titles, proud his name, 
 Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; 
 Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
 The wretch, concentered all in self, 
 Living, shall forfeit fair renown, 
 And, doubly dying, shall go down 
 To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, 
 Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.'* 
 
 •k\
 
 74 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 He now turned to the captain, and his friends 
 Olat'ur and Robert Walker, raised the glass, and, 
 with tearful eyes, said, in a low voice, " Our 
 farewell to the shores of the La Plata !" 
 
 " In the hope of a speedy return" replied 
 Captain Finngreen taking his glass. If there is a 
 city on earth upon whose road the seaman who 
 has once been there joyfully casts his anchor 
 again, it is Buenos Ayres ; the city of hearty 
 hospitality and true sociability. Success to 
 Buenos Ayres ! where a man meets with men ! 
 Will you not empty your glass with us, lieuten- 
 ant, to the happy voyage of this young friend .'" 
 he now asked the officer of the Caza, who ex- 
 amined the passport of the banished youth with 
 peculiar strictness, and did not condescend to 
 reply. 
 
 The little beetleman, who had understood the 
 words of the otBcer in relation to Horatio and 
 his uncle, appeared sunk in profound reflection, 
 and held his fourth glass motionless in his hand. 
 
 " Had ynur uncle, the traitor, amassed no col- 
 lection of beetles ?" he at length inquired of the 
 youth, in a peculiarly cordial manner. 
 
 " I, myself, have on board a little box of bee- 
 tles, and other natural productions, as a remem- 
 brance of my fatherland," sighed Horatio, an- 
 swering, in all good humor, the naive beetle 
 inquiry. 
 
 " Have you, indeed ? you would eternally 
 oblige me if you would dome the favor to show 
 them to me, when it is convenient ; perhaps 
 there may be duplicates of a singular species, 
 which might be in the highest degree interest- 
 ing to me." 
 
 " As soon as I have time, I will open my little 
 collection for you with great pleasure," replied 
 Horatio. 
 
 " You will eternally oblige me, Mr. , 
 
 what's your name, sir .'" 
 
 The youth named his family name, and the 
 little beetleman drew his eye brows up towards 
 his forehead, and repeated the name several 
 times so inconsiderately loud, that the officer, 
 until then sunk in thought, suddenly became 
 observant of him, and hastily stepped up to him, 
 " Does that name so particularly interest you ?" 
 he roared out ; the little naturalist shrunk back, 
 trembling and terrified, answering: 
 
 " The name does indeed interest me ; it does 
 indeed, it is a famous name, from Peru, although 
 no such name is known in the whole nomencla- 
 ture of beetle science, either in Europe or else- 
 where." 
 
 " What was your object in coming to Buenos 
 Ayres ."' demanded the enraged officer, and be- 
 gan the strictest investigation which he had yet 
 conducted to any of the passengers. 
 
 Mr. Walker, stepping up to the side of the 
 helpless voyager, as interpreter, endeavored to 
 explain that the German savant concerned him- 
 self very little about the political relations of the 
 country, but only with its plants and beetles, all 
 which the latter loudly confirmed, and added — 
 
 " Politics ! politics I what do I care about poli- 
 tics ? how in all the %vorld do politics concern 
 me .' What do you think of me, gentlemen .' what 
 do you particularly take me for ? I consider this 
 examination here on board very insulting! I 
 protest against all such accusations ; as if I had 
 ever troubled myself with the affairs of nations, 
 whether in Europe or in South America. I do 
 
 not trouble myself with Germany, to say nothing 
 of the Argentine republic. What is all such 
 stuff to me ? I have more important matters to 
 attend to, than politics. Do you consider me 
 insjne .' Do you take me for a conspirator, that is 
 in connexion with revolutionists, rebels, and the 
 like fanatics. I protest against all such accusa- 
 tions, and refer you to the Prussian consul in 
 Buenos Ayres, who knows me, and my position, 
 as a member of the Royal Zoological Society in 
 Berlin, if you wish to know it." 
 
 Bob Walker hastily rendered this exculpation 
 as literally as possible info Spanish, whereupon, 
 Seiior Codo, himself, could not keep from laugh- 
 ing, and appeared quite convinced of the politi- 
 cal innocence of the savant. 
 
 One of his crew now appeared with the re- 
 port, that the vessel had been searched in the 
 strictest manner throughout, and no trace of a 
 refugee found, whereupon, he passed in review 
 Mr. Daily, and then the sailors of the Nord- 
 stjernan, and prepared to depart. 
 
 " Klar til at segla !" (Prepare for sailing!) 
 cried the captain, and then betookhimself to his 
 post upon the quarterdeck, from whence he 
 issued his other commands, which soon brought 
 all into order. 
 
 Seiior Codo, in the highest degree dissatisfied 
 with the result of his expedition, suppressed his 
 confederative rage in his farewell to the captain 
 and Hinango. emptied several glasses more of 
 champagne at parting, while Horatio, for mani- 
 fest considerations, had withdrawn himself from 
 his sight. 
 
 " A prosperous voyage !" he said, at last, to 
 the two men on the quarterdeck, and descended 
 the ladder into the longboat, which immediately 
 pushed off, and was set in motion by the oar 
 strokes of the " forced volunteers." 
 
 " I might as %vell have the mantle of the poor 
 drowned crature," whispered Patrick Gentle- 
 boy, to his next neighbor, while he struck out 
 lustily with his oar. It has got wound around a 
 buoy, or a piece of wood, and the poor drowned 
 crature doesn't nade it at all, at all." 
 
 " Loose the mantle there from the buoy, and 
 throw it here in the stern," said Senor Codo to 
 one of the men in the boat. With these words, 
 he steered in the direction indicated. The man 
 fulfilled the order, and as the relic of the " infa- 
 mous Unitarian " was safely taken out of the 
 water, the longboat was brought into a direct 
 course for the Caza, while the sails of the Nord- 
 stjernan were unfurled in the most seamanlike 
 order. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 DENUNCIATION AND DISCOVERT. 
 
 In a spacious private audience chamber of the 
 Palaceof Justice, in the PlazaWe la Victoria, sat 
 Seiior Petrozo, the Chief of the Police Depart- 
 ment, dressed in black, with a Rosas-red vest, 
 in a large easy chair, lined with Rosas-red 
 velvet, before a table covered with red cloth. 
 Around him, on smaller chairs, were seated 
 Father Ambrose, the Catalonian monk ; the cor-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 75 
 
 pulent father guardian of the Eeneaictme monas- 
 tery ; Father Fernando, the Franciscan ; Senor 
 Borrachezo, the Commissary of Police ; and 
 Senor Domingo, the superintendent of the prison. 
 
 Senor Petrozo, a lean, decrepid old man, with 
 deep sunken, dead looking eyes, was chewing 
 the end of a thick goosequill ; he supported his 
 wrinkled forehead upon his left hands, and 
 looked down on a sheet of paper, which he was 
 ' laboring, gradually, to fill. From the precau- 
 tion of not allowing even a secretary to be ini- 
 tiated in so important a secret as that which had 
 occasioned the assemblage, he wrote the protocol 
 with his own hand. 
 
 " Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran 
 los salvages Unitarios !"* murmurred Seiior Pe- 
 trozo to himself, as a priest would his litany, 
 and inquired aloud, " You abide by your asser- 
 tion, reverend father guardian, that Brother 
 Celeste left the monastery towards midnight, 
 last evening, without attendants ; and that he 
 took no ciborium from the sacristy ? Viva la 
 Confederacion Argentina ! mueran los salvages 
 Unitarios !" he repeated, in the same manner as 
 before. 
 
 " Viva !" responded the father guardian, "viva 
 la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran los salvages 
 Unitarios ! I repeat that I have questioned, in 
 the name of our holy Saint Benedict, the porter 
 of our monastery., the brother overseer of the 
 garden, and Brother Urbano, who carries the 
 keys of the sacristy, about this matter, and that 
 the result of my inquiries is this — that the 
 reverend Brother Celeste left the convent about 
 half past ten o'clock last night, through the gar- 
 den gate, alone and unattended, under the pre- 
 tence of visiting the condemned sinner and arch 
 enemy of our lord and ruler, in his prison. 
 Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran los 
 salvages Unitarios!" 
 
 Seiior Petrozo wrote some lines on the margin 
 of an already finished sentence, and turned 
 around to SeHor Domingo, saying, " Viva la 
 Confederacion Argentina ! mueran los salvages 
 Unitarios ! And so you repeat your assertion, 
 Seiior Domingo, that the aforesaid Brother Ce- 
 leste crossed the threshold of your prison, last 
 night, at eleven o'clock, in company with a 
 young monk of the same Benedictine order, and 
 a negro, or mulatto, as an ostensible watchman 
 of the monastery .' Viva la confederacion Ar- 
 gentina ! mueran los salvages Unitarios !" 
 
 " I repeat my declaration — ^Viva la Confedera- 
 cion Argentina ! mueran los salvages Unita- 
 rios !" returned old Senor Domingo, while he 
 took a heavy pinch from his deep snufi" box — 
 " that the said Brother Celeste, dressed as a 
 Benedictine monk, with a crucifix in his hand, 
 appeared last^ evening, at the aforesaid hour, in 
 the court of the prison, attended by a young monk 
 of the same Benedictine order, who carried the 
 ciborium, or, at least, a massive silver chalice, 
 covered with black cloth ; followed by a negro, 
 or mulatto, whom Brother Celeste brought in 
 as one of the watchmen of his monastery, and 
 who, as such, departed with the young monk. 
 
 * " Long live the Argentine Confederation t death to the 
 cursed Unitarians." The well known motto of tlie Rosas 
 government, which appeared as many as twenty-five 
 or thirty times, and sometimes oftener, in every number 
 of the official newspaper at Buenos Ayres, " La Gaceta 
 Mercantil." 
 
 after they had administered the Lord's Supper 
 to the condemned, in our chapel. Viva la Con- 
 federacion Argentina ! mueran los salvages 
 Unitarios !" 
 
 Senor Petrozo again wrote some lines, and 
 then stuck his pen behind his ear, put a pair of 
 spectacles on his nose, and turned to Father 
 Ambrose. " Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! 
 mueran los salvages Unitarios ! And what infe- 
 rence do you, reverend Father Ambrose, draw 
 from these thoroughly contradictory declarations, 
 confirmed by the office and dignity of the depo- 
 nents, and affirmed to by oatha administered 
 beforehand .' Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! 
 mueran los salvages Unitarios !" 
 
 " I maintain," said Father Ambrose, rising 
 from his seat, and sticking his hands in the 
 sleeves of his robe ; " I maintain that there has 
 been deception practised here, wilful deception, 
 on thft part of Brother Celeste, in favor of the 
 condemned traitor." 
 
 ■' Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran 
 los salvages Unitarios ! How dare you pre- 
 sume !" exclaimed the father guardian, and 
 
 would have continued, when Senor Petrozo, 
 hastily, and loudly interrupted him. 
 
 " Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran los 
 salvages Unitarios ! Silence ! father guardian, 
 no exceptions — no interruption of judicial pro- 
 ceedings. You maintain," continued he, turn- 
 ing again to the Catalonian — " you maintain ?" 
 
 " Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran 
 los salvages Unitarios ! That a deception has 
 been practised on the part of the librarian. Bro- 
 ther Celeste," answered the Spanish monk, 
 briefly, and in a decided tone. 
 
 Seiior Petrozo diligently went to writing again, 
 while Senor Domingo passed around his snuflf 
 box, and bowed to every one who " made an in- 
 road upon his property." 
 
 " Senor Borrachezo," said Senor Petrozo, 
 " send a police officer, immediately, to the IVIon- 
 astery of St. Bento, to produce Brother Celeste 
 here, without delay. But understand, send him 
 a polite invitation ; be circumspect ! be circum- 
 spect ! and order them to lock the antechamber 
 as soon as the said brother Celeste has entered 
 this room. Make haste ; we shall proceed no 
 farther until you ftturn." 
 
 *' Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran 
 los salvages Unitarios !" Senor Borrachezo, after 
 repeating this Rosas rnotto, bowed to his supe- 
 rior officer, and departed with hasty steps. 
 
 A pause followed, which the president of this 
 council of the church and stat^ employed not 
 only to look at, but sound his repeater ; it struck 
 two slow, and three rapid strokes ; of course it 
 was a quarter before three, in the afternoon ; he 
 counted the seconds and minutes of the absence 
 of the police commissary, who did not make 
 them, wait long for him, but soon returned and 
 resumed his scat. 
 
 " Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran 
 los salvages Unitarios !" murmured the pater 
 guardian, and asked, as Senor Petrozo brought 
 his pen again to his paper, " May I put a ques- 
 tion to the reverend Father Ambrose ?" 
 
 " Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran 
 los salvages Unitarios ! Speak — ask your ques- 
 tion," answered Petrozo. 
 
 " Pardon me, reverend Brother Ambrose," 
 said the corpulent father guardian to the guest of
 
 76 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 his monastery, " pardon me the question ! vvdat, 
 in the name of all the saints ! what induced you 
 to make such an accusation against our univer- 
 sally honored librarian. Brother Celeste ? to ac- 
 cuse him of deception, after you had only this 
 morning, when he was yet a stranger to you, re- 
 ceived my testimony of his worth .' what grounds 
 have you for such an accusation ?" 
 
 " Grounds that are sufficiently convincing," re- 
 turned the monk from Barcelona, and threw him- 
 self back in his arm chair, playing with his rosa- 
 ry, and stretching out both his feet. " Grounds 
 of conviction — after a long interview with this 
 venerable functionary, Senor Domingo, con- 
 firmed by much experience in similar cases in 
 our monasteries in Europe, where so many of 
 the ' Lord's anointed,' like this Brother Celeste, 
 walk before the world in the ' odor of sanctity,' 
 who, nevertheless, infected by this cursed spirit 
 of freedom, with the plasphemous aim of so 
 called enlightenment, are long since alienated 
 in heart from the only saving church, and nour- 
 ish under the tonsure thoughts and ideas, the 
 dissemination of which would undermine the 
 foundations of the church, and lead to its entire 
 overthrow, if we did not proceed with vigor — 
 if we did not seek to eradicate the spirit wher- 
 ever we behold the poisonous blossoms of such 
 a shoot. In the present case, the poisonous blos- 
 soms have already matured into poisonous truit. 
 
 " I am very certain in this aftair," con- 
 tinued he, after a pause, although at present 1 
 can neither see into the particular object of the 
 deception, nor the well chosen means of its ac- 
 complishment. I assert, hovv'ever, that a trea- 
 sonable and sacrilegious connexion existed be- 
 tween the librarian and the condemned, and now 
 executed rebel ; and which further examination 
 will manifest. I honor the faith and the per- 
 sonal confidence of the worthy father guardian, 
 in relation to the suspected brother of our 
 order ; but I also know this spirit of freedom, 
 this turbulent poison of thought, which in Eu- 
 rope not only endangers the church, but is even 
 brewed by those who call themselves the 
 " anointed of the Lord," and, as the true elixir of 
 the devil, pervades and infects the veins of the 
 churches. The holy Benedict forbid, that the 
 name of one calling himseli a priest, should 
 pass my lips, who, seduced and blinded by .Satan, 
 has made such use of the abominable invention 
 of printing as even to deceive the most tried 
 adherents of the only saving church. The holy 
 Benedict forbid, that I should, even in the most 
 remote manner^ designate a little book which a 
 reprobate priest, who will be justly condemned 
 to eternal punishment, has written in the lan- 
 guage of the 'salvages Franceses,'* which has 
 been published by hundreds of thousands, in 
 the languages of all the European nations, in 
 which a priest receives the confession ot a 
 Christian ! Verily, verily, I say unto you !" he 
 continued, in evident excitement, rising up and 
 leaning forward, " verily I say unto you, those 
 curse-laden alid hell-concocted words — of a so 
 called Believer,t have occasioned greater evil in 
 'he kingdom of Christianity, than the plague 
 in the East, and the cholera morbus in Europe, 
 and other parts of the world ; and a follower of 
 the holy Benedict, who, under the mask of 
 
 'French savages. | Paroles d'lmCroyant 
 
 piety and sanctity, and under pretext of his 
 office as librarian, not only tolerates such a 
 book inside the walls of a monastery, but, under 
 the seal of secrecy lends it to a younger brother 
 to read, is capable of desecrating the habit o£ 
 our order — of desecrating the sacrament of the 
 supper — by conducting a friend or confederate 
 of the rebel, disguised as a brother of our order, 
 into the prison and prison chapel, and thus 
 bringing upon himself the curses of all the 
 saints, and the excommunication of the church !" 
 He thundered out the last words in convulsive 
 citation, trembling in all his limbs, and sank, 
 as if exhausted and unstrung, back into his arm 
 chair. 
 
 " Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran 
 los salvages Unitarios ! Of what book do jou 
 speak, reverend Father Ambrose ?" said Senor 
 Petrozo, interrupting the deathlike silence which 
 followed the loud speech of the Spaniai-d, during 
 which the assembled associates of the temporary 
 inquisition stared at each other. 
 
 " I speak of this," said the monk, and drew 
 from under the folds of his robe a duodecimo 
 volume, bound exactly like a prayer book, which 
 he threw upon the table of the president. " I 
 speak of this book !" 
 
 Father Fernando's countenance turned pale ; 
 he made the sign of the cross, and was just on 
 the point of leaving his seat to avoid the neigh- 
 borhood of a book burdened with so heavy a 
 curse of the church. 
 
 " Be composed — sit down ! reverend brother,* 
 cried Ambrose to him ; " I take all the respon- 
 sibility upon myself." 
 
 Senor Petrozo repeated his " Viva la Con 
 federacion Argentina ! mueran los salvages Uni- 
 tarios !" stretched his bony fingers slowly and 
 hesitatingly out towards the infectious little 
 book, ventured, at length, to take it up, and read 
 the title half aloud to himself—" Palabras de un 
 Creyente — por De La Menais." " Then a priest is 
 the author, and is named De La Menais," he said. 
 " 1 have heard of this book ; but our lord and ruler 
 takes no notice of books, if they contain nothing 
 against him. He does not read himself, and 
 does not comprehend how other men can occupy 
 themselves with books. But, nevertheless, the 
 book may be dangerous, especially since the 
 church so strictly forbids it. Where did you 
 find it >" he then asked of the Spanish monk. 
 
 " In the hand of a young brother of our order, 
 the day before yesterday, early in the morning, 
 in the garden of the monastery. The sinner 
 tried to steal away and hide the book. I suc- 
 ceeded in bringing him to confession, and in 
 getting possession of it. He confessed to me that 
 the brother librarian, whose name 1 hardly 
 knew, had entrusted him with such forbidden 
 fruit, under the condition of the strictest 
 secrecy." 
 
 " Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran 
 los salvages Unitarios ! But are you quite certain 
 that the young brother of our order, in whose 
 hands you found the book, can read .'" inquired 
 the father guardian, still firmly believing in the 
 integrity of Brother Celeste, who stood m high 
 consideration with him, because he was able to 
 read, not only Spanish, but even books in several 
 other languages. 
 
 The monk from Barcelona replied to this ques- 
 tion by a look expressive of depreciation, and
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 77 
 
 almost of contempt. The question, however, 
 could onl\' appear singular to a monk from Eu- 
 rope, since the ignorance and stupidity 'of the 
 South American " brethren of the cloister " is 
 universally knovvn, and has become a by-word 
 there, and for which they will bear a comparison 
 with their brethren in the monasteries of any 
 other country. 
 
 " Viva la Confederacion Argentina ! mueran 
 los salvages Unitarios !" now interposed Senor 
 Petrozo. " The crime of Brother Celeste, which 
 can be proved by tliis book, belongs to the tribu- 
 -«.nal of your order, and can here only serve as 
 presumptive evidence that the erring Brother 
 Celeste, who, according to appearances, has 
 been for a long time apostate from the church, 
 has, also, committed a crime against the state, 
 which we shall inquire into, and then hand him 
 over to the inquisition of the church." 
 
 Father Ambrose, by a profound inclination of 
 the head, gave his assent to this declaration, just 
 as a light knock was heard at the door. Senor 
 Borrachezo hurried out, but instantly returned 
 with the information, that one of his private 
 agents, attended by a naval officer and a third 
 person, desired to speak to him. 
 
 " If it is about the affair of the condemned, or 
 concerning the author of the Elegies," said the 
 Chief of Police, " you may let the people come 
 in here ; if not, they must wait until the accused 
 Brother Celeste is examined, because you, Mr. 
 Commissary, cannot leave here. until then " 
 
 " My private agent, without there, informs me 
 that the trace of the authoress of the ' Elegies ' 
 has been discovered." 
 
 " The authoress !" interrupted the Chief; " a 
 lady, then .' I am very curious to hear about it. 
 Let the people come in here." 
 
 Borrachezo opened the door, and Captain 
 Tumble, in uniform, and well armed, stepped 
 over the threshold, accompanied by Senors Pere- 
 zoso and Falsodo. As a precaution, and for his 
 own personal security, he commanded two of 
 his marines to place themselves inside of the 
 door, since he found himself in an unknown 
 port, where various " strange flags " met his eye, 
 which appeared connected with the Popedom, a 
 naval power which he placed in the same scale 
 with Tunis and Tripoli. 
 
 " Are you Serior Bovrach - ezo, the Commissary 
 of Police !" asked the commander of the Caza, 
 of the officer who conducted him into the apart- 
 ment ; and as the latter assented, he continued, 
 pointing to Falsodo, " And do you acknowledge 
 this man as an agent in the service of govern- 
 ment, in the Police Department ?" 
 
 The Commissary of Police hesitated with the 
 answer, for it was a singular case to be called on 
 to acknowledge, openly, the standing of a police 
 spy ; a case which had never occurred to him 
 before in his practice ; and the open acknowl- 
 edgement of a secret agent would absolutely 
 prevent his further operations, and, of course, 
 must serve as a dismissal from secret service. 
 Falsodo felt that his life hung upon the con- 
 firmation of the assertion which he had made on 
 board of the Caza, inasmuch as he might be 
 assured that Captain Tumble would as certainly, 
 and more punctually, keep his word in relation 
 to rope and yard, as the Regent in respect to the 
 reward for the discovery of the poet ; and this 
 feeling was any thing but comfortable. A tiger 
 
 glance from the somewhat brandy-red eyes of the 
 enraged commander, during the pause which 
 followed this question, forced out the perspira. 
 tion from the smooth forehead of the miserable 
 sinner. 
 
 After a long hesitation, Senor Borrachezo, at 
 length, replied — " If this man, under peculiar 
 circumstances in his service, has been induced 
 and compelled to discover himself as commis- 
 sioned on the part of the police, and the con- 
 firmation of such a position, on my part, can 
 promote the affair, I shall, by no means, decline 
 to interest myself in the matter." 
 
 Captain Tumble, as a seaman and captain ac- 
 customed to the extreme of brevity, had expected 
 a decisive yes or no ; the ifs and ands of the 
 police diplomatist by no means suited him ; he 
 crossed his arms over his breast, took a firm po- 
 sition, and said, tolerably loud — 
 
 " I wish to know, sir, whether this man has 
 heretofore been in your service or not ?" 
 
 " In my service .'" said Senor Borrachezo, 
 smiling. 
 
 " In the service of the policy" growled the 
 commander, as loudly as before. 
 
 " If he is really in the service of the police, it 
 will be easy for him to prove his standing, by 
 documents," answered the commissary, and Fal- 
 sodo's confiscated visage again lost its color. 
 
 ** This man pretends to have orders to observe 
 and apprehend the Unitarian there, as this Uni- 
 tarian stands in connexion with the friends and 
 confederates of an executed traitor." 
 
 " Very possible !" replied Senor Borrachezo. 
 " While the Unitarian, on the contrary, claims 
 to be no Unitarian, but a zealous Confederado, 
 and offers to name the authoress of the infamous 
 Elegies of the Plata, and to deliver her person 
 into the hands of justice." 
 
 " Indeed I is it possible !" interrupted the 
 other, a little seriously ; " that would certainly be 
 interesting ;" and turned to Perezoso with the 
 question — 
 
 " Who are you?" 
 
 " I hope I have the honor of being long known 
 to you, Mr. Commissary ? My name is Perezoso, 
 I am a philologist, as you must know." 
 
 In the tone of a man of business, who seeks to 
 despatch one after the other. Borrachezo now 
 addressed Captain Tumble, while he pointed 
 out an arm chair to him. 
 
 " Take a seat, if you please, sir ! With whom 
 have 1 the honor to speak ?" 
 
 "With a naval officer of the Argentine re- 
 public, as you see," returned Captain Tumble, 
 with considerable brevity, and threw himself 
 into the nearest armchair — " with the comman- 
 der of the brig la Caza — with Captain Tumble." 
 " I am rejoiced to make your acquaintance," 
 replied the commissioner; " you are a foreigner, 
 as I hear !" 
 
 " A foreigner ! I, a foreigner ? you are mista- 
 ken, sir ! I am an Englishman, and you are a 
 foreigner ; I stand in the service of the republic, 
 and desire that you would despatch my prisoners 
 without circumlocation, without a long introduc- 
 tion. I require your decided declaration, 
 whether this man has heretofore stood in the 
 service of the police or not ? If you confirm it, 
 I will deliver him over to your responsibility ; if 
 you deny it, I shall take him on board, and have 
 him hung, for he has tried to circumvent me ia 
 
 "W
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 73 
 
 service— In service ! on board of my brig ! As 
 concerns the other, thfe Unitarian,! will leave it 
 with you to obtain his contessjon in relation to 
 the Eletries. I require, however, pen, ink, and 
 paper, to write down niy report, in case Ine (lis- 
 coverv and apprehension of the poetess, or ot the 
 poet takes place, since I have indirectly assisted 
 m the discovery, and have my interest therein ; 
 do vou understand ? my interest .'" 
 
 Captain Tumble seated himself, without cere- 
 mony, at the table, helped himself to the neces- 
 sary writing materials, and began his report to 
 the" Minister of Justice. 
 
 The decided language of the commander, 
 confirmed bv his domineering deportment, did 
 not fail of"its effect upon either Borrachezo 
 or Falsodo; the former appeared inclined to 
 take part with the spy, and the latter begged 
 permission to throw himself into a chair, lor 
 his knees trembled, and his head swam in antici- 
 pation of the hanging. . , „ ~ t. . 
 
 " Hasten your inquiries !" said SenorPetrozo, 
 " there are ca«;s in which the police must openly 
 acknowledge their secret agents, and we are 
 here, moreover, among ourselves, entirely among 
 ourselves. Lose no time, Mr. Commissary— or 
 it is to be hoped we shall soon begin an equal y 
 important examination. He looked at his vvatch, 
 and listened to a noise at the door, but it was 
 not occasioned by the arrival of the Benedictine, 
 Brother Celeste, but by the movements of the 
 marines whom Captain Tumble had posted there 
 Borrachezo now beckoned to the spy, and 
 went with him into the recess window, where 
 they talked together for a long while. 
 
 I'alsodo disclosed the tragical events that had 
 happened to him since their last interview in 
 the office of the superintendent of the prison, 
 and finally asserted that he had possessed him- 
 Belf, in the person of Perezoso. of the secret in 
 relation to the Elegies. 
 
 " Sit down," whispered Borrachezo to him 
 «' compose yourself;" and then beckoned to the 
 private teacher, who took the vacant place left 
 by the spy, and made his statement, and with 
 peculiar confidence. . , ~ i, • r 
 
 " I have ascertained," he asserted, after a brief 
 introduction," who has written the infamous Ele- 
 p-ies, and will engage to apprehend the author. 
 If sovernment will place the means at my dispo- 
 sal; of which I must avail myself, to attain my 
 
 ° ■'"The author ? I thought it had been a lady !" 
 interrupted the commissary. 
 
 " Whether it be a man or a woman, replied 
 the other, is my aflair, since I only have as yet 
 found the clue. If I uttered, in the presence of 
 Falsodo, the supposition that a lady wrote the 
 Ele^'ies, you will readily understand such a pre- 
 cauFion, as I suspected Falsodo's position, and 
 wished to reserve my secret for myself. 
 
 Borrachezo appeared to find this quite in order, 
 and bestowed the more confidence on the clever 
 
 '^ ""what means do you require at your dis- 
 
 ^""'immediate appointment for life, as custom 
 house officer, and unlimited power, =«. ^"'^1>> '° 
 search every house and every ship, without le- 
 Btiiction, with armed attendance," replied the 
 private teacher. ,„ 
 
 •• And if you do not deliver up the author .' 
 
 - Then I will lay doWTi my office again, and 
 return to my private station ; but I require an 
 immediate private audience with the Minister of 
 the Department of the Interior, and my appoim- 
 ment made out, that I may proceed to the arrest ; 
 I have not a minute to lose." . 
 
 Borrachezo hesitated, for the originality of 
 these stipulations, surprised him. He perceived 
 he necessity of such a post, for unrestrained 
 search under the pretext of the discovery of 
 muggled goods, but he equally acknowledged 
 the "clever fellow's" presence of mmd, in thus 
 securing to himself a permanent situation 
 
 Without losing a word, he liurned to the 
 chief, in the red armchair and laid before him 
 the requisitions of the zealous Confederado 
 
 " Here are my documents in our prosecuting 
 partnership," exclaimed Captain Tnmbe, "write 
 me a receipt, Mr. Commissary, stating that 1 have 
 "elivered up to you the secret for which a re- 
 ward is oflered, enveloped m the person of the 
 
 '"f.^r^.firacta:wledge the arrival.of both per- 
 sons here, in the Palace of Justice, m your com- 
 pany !" . 
 
 " That is what I require. 
 
 Borrachezo took the pen which Captain Tum- 
 ble handed to him, and had hardly written and 
 subscribed an attestation,when there was another 
 knock at the door. . rii„„t„>» 
 
 " That must be the librarian, Brother Celeste, 
 whispered he to the Chief of Police,J' I will 
 bring him in, and then accompany Senor Pere- 
 zoso, in aU haste, to the Minister of the.lnterior, 
 that the search may proceed as speedily as pos- 
 
 ^' "ho 30, 1 will, for the moment, give the libra- 
 
 "''Borrachezo'left the room, but soon returned 
 with a lengthened and colorless face. 
 
 " The librarian of the Monastery of St. Bento, 
 Brother Celeste, has disappeared-there is no 
 trace of him to be found ! The habit of the or- 
 der, which he wore this morning, lay "P°" ]\f 
 bed A box, purporting to contain books tor the 
 library, stood open, and half .empty, in his cell 
 No one has seen him since eight o clock, when 
 he went into the church, and returned to hi» tell 
 through the sacristy ; he has not been seen since. 
 
 "A miracle! a miracle !" exclaimed the father 
 guardian, addressing himself especial y to the 
 Franciscan. " Did I not say so i did 1 not tell 
 you so, this morning. Father Fernando ? that he 
 is endowed with miraculous power ? tha he can 
 double his person .' as has been proved m the pri- 
 son, where he appeared in a two- o d form, and 
 as a negro or mulatto, besides ! did not tell you 
 so ' And now he has vanished bodily ! vanished 
 like a bursted fire ball on the festival of the 
 
 holy Benedict." ^ ^ , • ,i, „„ii 
 
 " A half emptied book chest stood in the cell, 
 you say, Mr. Commissary ?" inquired the Span- 
 ish monk, turning away, vexed, from the father 
 
 ^""^So says the police agent, without, there, 
 who has been in the monastery." 
 
 " What is more probable than that a complete 
 
 wardrobe was in the box, and the reprobate has 
 
 taken himself off through the garden gate, in 
 
 dis^'uise 1" , 
 
 "Very probable," affirmed Senor Borrachezo 
 
 " Hlgiily probable," chimed in Senor '^ -zoso
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 r79 
 
 ' " Without doubt — unless a miracle has occur- 
 led !" added old Domingo. 
 
 " Is it convenient for you to accompany me 
 »iow to tile Minister of the Interior !" wliispered 
 Perezoso, in the ear of the Commissary of Police ; 
 perhaps I may catch two heads with one lazo ; 
 out I repeat, I have no time to lose." 
 
 Senor Borrachezo now exchanged a few low 
 •?vords with the Chief, and took his hai. . 
 
 " Do not forget to give in ' my report," cried 
 Captain Tumble after him. 
 
 " It shall be punctually attended to," returned 
 the other. " I will add mine, verbally, in ac- 
 knowledgement of your official diligence." 
 
 " Mr. Commander, I thank you for your escort 
 to this place," said Perezoso to the naval olficer ; 
 '* perhaps, and very probable, I shall yet have 
 the honor to see you on board of your brig, or 
 even in the stern of your cutter, if you remain 
 on shore for an hour longer." 
 
 Captain Tumble pondered over these words, 
 and endeavored to interpret their meaning, but 
 did not seem to arrive at the conne.xion of ideas, 
 and so. let the matter rest, until some official 
 order should bring him in contact with the vice 
 agent and future custom house officer. 
 
 " Come ! come ! I pray you, Mr. Commissary ; 
 we must hurry," said Perezoso to his companion 
 who, at length, answered the last words of the 
 Chief of Police with a " very natural !" and 
 the two departed, leaving the college, which 
 represented Church and State, to ponder over 
 the twofold mystery of the authorship of the 
 " Elegies," and the flight of the brother libra- 
 rian from the Monastery of St. Bonto. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE SONS OF THE OCEAN. 
 
 After Captain Finngreen had given the 
 order to prepare for sailing, and taken his place 
 upon tlie quarterdeck, while the longboat of the 
 Caza was on its way, he, in great haste, desired 
 his passenger, Ormur Olafvu", to have Alvarez 
 come up into the cabin, and to take care to see 
 him refreshed and strengthened, while he would 
 bring the vessel in course. 
 
 Ormur gave all the other passengers a hint to 
 leave the deck, for he, as a seaman, knew the 
 moment when nothing is so superfluous upon a 
 Vessel's deck as a passenger, and nothing so ne- 
 cessary as a captain who knows how to give his 
 orders, and a crew that knows how to execute 
 them. 
 
 Captain Finngreen attended to the fulfilment 
 of liis duty as captain, with as much decision as 
 if he had no passengers, much less refugees, on 
 board, for whose heads a reward was ofliBred. 
 According to the standing harbor laws, each 
 captain, in Buenos Ayres, is bound to take a 
 pilot to Point Indio ; and only in case that no 
 pilot is to be had, can he take his vessel out him- 
 Belf, and receive back his pilotage. Captain 
 Finngreen had asked for a pilot, but all were 
 employed upon the river, and he would have to 
 wait some hours, until one was placed at his 
 disposal. , 
 
 From the apprehension that cren a pilot 
 might bely his loyalty as a seaman, and, observ- 
 ing sometliing suspicious on board the Nordstjer- 
 nan, might betray him, he the more readily 
 resolved to go to sea without one, and, likewise, 
 to renounce the pilotage, since he avoided ap- 
 pearing again in the pilot office at the moment 
 of his departure. His position was, conse- 
 quently, one of great responsibility, and put in 
 requisition the head of tlie seaman, as well a3 
 the heart of the man. 
 
 We leave him to the performance of his duty, 
 and betake ourselves to the cabin, whither Hora- 
 tio, Ormur, Mr. Walker, and Mr. Rossbriick, 
 had directed their steps, and were just then 
 busied in bringing the refugee, Alvarez, out of 
 his hiding place. 
 
 The latter related that the sailors of the man- 
 of-war had crept quite near to him, and nearly 
 touched him ; but from their low discourse, he 
 had remarked that they would all have been 
 glad to take his place, and fly from a service to 
 which necessity compelled them. " They were 
 more afraid of finding me, than I was of being 
 found," said Alvarez, " for the poor creatures 
 acknowledged their equal in me, and in misery 
 a rough heart often feels noble sentiments." 
 
 Achilles took upon himself the office of the 
 long Ottar, who was employed on deck, and 
 performed the services of steward in the cabin, 
 under Ormur's directions, to strengthen tho 
 physical force of the unfortunate Alvarez, by 
 means of nourishment; while all, for particular 
 reasons, avoided any reference to the circum- 
 stances of their present situation. 
 
 Horatio desired his friend Ormur to lend him 
 the " Paroles d'un Croyant" for the moment, for 
 though he was not in a mood to occupy himself 
 with reading, there was, on the other hand, no 
 other book within reach, that was better adapted 
 for his consolation. The seaman hastily toolc 
 out some books, to gratify the desire of the 
 youth, whereby another little book accidentally 
 fell to the floor, which Robert caught up. 
 Without looking at the title, he observed the 
 heading of a chapter, " The sons of the 
 Ocean," and excused himself to the owner 
 for retaining it ; he added, " If you will allow 
 me, I will read it, since we must remain down 
 here until our captain has the Nordstjornan on 
 her course." 
 
 " Read it, if you like it," replied Hinango, 
 and Robert threw liimself into a corner of the 
 sofa, and read attentively, to himself, the follow 
 ing pages : 
 
 " THE SONS or THE OCEAN." 
 
 "As men in every station and condition of 
 life, generally fall into particular divisions, a 
 seafaring life admits of an arrangement of cap- 
 tains of vessels in three classes, distinct in their 
 character from each other. There are, among 
 sea captains, as in all other kind of business, 
 men who, from vocation and inclination, and 
 others, who, by chance, or a whim of fate, follow 
 the sea; and others, again, who enter this 
 path, because no other remains open to them. 
 For the designation of these three classes, par- 
 ticular generic names are necessary, which wa 
 shall here make use of for that purpose. Thero 
 are, among ship captains. Seamen, Captains, and 
 Skippers. Tlie seaman feels himself born for
 
 80 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 the ocean, and however the circumstances of his 
 childhood may shape themselves, he wears out 
 his boy's shoes upon ship's deck, and already, 
 while a boy, obtains, in a manner, an elevated 
 view of life and of the world, from the main- 
 mast top, where his commander sends him in 
 storm and tempest. Accustomed to the adverse 
 elements, deprived of tranquillity and comfort, 
 his moral powers are developed by difficulties 
 and dansei's. Courage in him is moral self-reli- 
 ance, and manifests itself as strength of mind, 
 in perseverance and endurance, in self-denial 
 and privation. This courage of the seaman has 
 nothing in common with the so called ' courage" 
 of the mercenary, which, for a few pence, he 
 manifests, as the blind, wiUess instrument of ab- 
 solute despotism. The seaman passes through 
 all grades of service, from cabin boy to com- 
 mander, and deports himself, in every station and 
 situation, as a born seaman. The ocean is his 
 element ; the storm is his companion ; the uni- 
 verse his world ; and the central point of his 
 life, his ship. The seaman, in his place as cap- 
 tain, regards the ocean as his home, his cabin as 
 his d%veUing, his quarterdeck as his promen- 
 ade, his vessel as a part of his own being. The 
 seaman on sliore, longs to be on board again, as 
 the youth longs for his beloved ; all his thoughts 
 and cares hover around his vessel. In conver- 
 sation on different subjects, he is all the while 
 thinking of his ship, and loves to talk of nothing 
 so much as of the dangers he has gone through. 
 He regards his vessel with pride, when he is 
 leaving or returning to it; ' it is the joy of his 
 stormy life.' The retired loneliness and the 
 deep reflection which are at all times peculiar 
 to his situation, develop in the seaman that 
 depth of contemplation which regards life, 
 from an elevated position, in accordance with the 
 unconscious result of his nautical studies, which 
 lead him into the boundless domain of astronomy 
 He considers our planet as an imperfect, insig- 
 nificant thing, in mathematical relation, to other 
 planets — the universe, as a region of eternal mo- 
 tion, where solar systems revolve around other 
 solar systems. In such contemplations of crea- 
 tion, (forced upon him, so to speak, by his cal- 
 ling,) he feels the nothingness of earthly life, 
 while he recognises the dignity of the human 
 mind. As a spirit in a body of clay, he is 
 able to fix the point of his momentary exis- 
 tence upon the ocean, with more or less preci- 
 sion. Conversant with the orbits of the stars, 
 he arrives at the elevated degree of calculating 
 by seconds the distances of the constellations, 
 whose motions are as familiar to him as the 
 course of his own ship. Through naathematical 
 demonstration, faith becomes in him the con- 
 viction that a higher power exists, which di- 
 rects the universe, and reveals itself upon our 
 planet, through its works as nature, and gov- 
 erns the tides the breathing of the ocean, 
 
 under the influence of the moon, ; the pulse 
 throb of a mysterious life. Opposed to the gran 
 deur of the universe, worldly brilliancy appears 
 to him in its insignificant nothingness, while his 
 spirit feels itselt allied with the all-governing 
 primitive power, which reveals itself in the 
 daring elevation of human intellect, calculating 
 the rotation of the constellations. He is embol- 
 dened to follow the path of a comet— to enter 
 the realms of infinitude ; and shrinlis back, with 
 
 holy awe, before the impenetrahle mystery of 
 the magnet. 
 
 " The seaman treats his crew as men, and his 
 officers as friends. Not forgetting that he has 
 been a sailor himself, and borne the toils and 
 hardships before the mast, he endeavors to 
 lighten the lot of his crew. He observes a rigid 
 fulfilment of his duties as captain, while he 
 requires from each man equal exactitude in ser- 
 vice, and equal respect as a man, on all occa- 
 sions, and at all times. Beholding in his 
 otlcers men who may become to-morrow what 
 he is to-day, he treats them as he desired to be' 
 treated by his commander when in a similar 
 position. More accustomed to thinking than to 
 talking, the seaman is laconic in his discourse, 
 and likes, least of all, the obtrusive speeches 
 and far-fetched questions of tedious passengers, 
 which are as strange to him as are life and the 
 world to them. 
 
 " If accident brings him in contact with a man 
 in whom he finds a harmony with his own 
 feelings, whether it be with a passenger on 
 board, or in social intercourse on shore, the po- 
 lar crust of ice which encloses his heart easily 
 melts, and his inward nature opens, under the 
 reciprocal attraction, to unrestrained commu- 
 nion. Bountiful and generous, without extrava- 
 gance, in his intercourse on shore, he displays 
 his peculiar qualities in hospitality on board his 
 ship. He relinquishes the details of providing 
 for the crew to those whose office involves this 
 duty, while he gives his particular attention to 
 the'supplying of pure water andsuthcient stores. 
 The instruments and charts required by his vo- 
 cation, are especially dear to him, and his pos- 
 sessions of this sort approach to a luxury which 
 he displavs in nothing else. 
 
 " In his toilet he is neat and cleanly, as well as 
 in his ship. He is less observant of the changes 
 of fashion when on shore, than of the changes 
 of the moon when on board, but takes care to 
 have a wardrobe suitable to the variations of cli- 
 mate. He is fond of reading on board, and keeps 
 on increasing a little cabinet library, though few- 
 authors serve him ; he likes only those that ' sail 
 deep,' and carry rich cargoes At sea, he longs 
 to see his voyage speedily ended ; on shore, he 
 wishes himself at sea again. His manly charac- 
 ter is not only evinced in imminent danger, but 
 more especially by his equanimity and patience 
 in calms and other hindrances. Familiar with 
 the dangers of the element from his youth up, 
 he becomes equally familiar with the thoughts 
 of death, with whi'ch he is threatened by every 
 cloud that disturbs the horizon, and which may 
 bring about his last hour. Although attached to 
 lil'e by the bonds of love and friendship, he does 
 not fear death in the moment of danger. Feel- 
 ing the responsibility which rests upon him, by 
 having the lives of' other men confided to his 
 charge, who are placed under his unrestricted 
 authority, and vi-ho, in a measure, are involved 
 in his fate, within a limited space, are in depen- 
 dance upon him, he maintains his firmness 
 and presence of mind in decisive and critical 
 moments. Without expecting miracles of a 
 supernatural character, where human help fails, 
 he sustains himself as man, upon the elevation 
 of strength of mind, the greatest miracle on 
 earth, since ' man, revealed in the seaman,* 
 dares to brave and contend against the destruc ■
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 81 
 
 live power of the elements ; ' a worm of the 
 dust' floating upon the raging ocean, allied, as 
 spirit, to the primitive power, whose breath 
 pervades all nature, and roars in the storm and 
 the hurricane. 
 
 "In churchyards and burial places, we seldom 
 see tile memorial of a seaman. Born on the sea- 
 Bliore — as a boy, growing np on board — as a youth, 
 only on shore to go to sea again — the seaman, for 
 the most part, ends his life in the waves — 
 whereby the owners lose nothing, because ship 
 and cargo are insured. The ocean on which his 
 life was developed, most generally becomes his 
 grave, and the storm which raged about his path 
 and proved his courage and hardihood, becomes 
 the only witness of his death hour. But storm 
 and tempest, raging above him in his last mo- 
 ments, offer no organ of renown. The murmur 
 ot" the waves tells not to his people the last strug- 
 gles of the seaman. No whispering of the bil- 
 lows in a calm, on the shore of his home, brings 
 his last farewell to the objects of his affection, 
 nor the last sigh, which, in the dismal distance of 
 the raging elements, or within sigiit of the coast 
 of his destination, is lost amid the howling of 
 the storm, and the roaring of the breakers in 
 whose companionship death embraces him. 
 Tlie fury of the tempest which caused his end, 
 closing his bursting eyes in eternal night, and 
 his heart in everlasting silence, is appeased, 
 and has died away. The sunbeams which 
 tanned the seaman's cheeh, shines upon no 
 flower, sparldes in no dew drop, upon the grassy 
 sod of the seaman's grave. His fame disappears 
 as tracklessly as the wake which he leaves be- 
 hind him in circumnavigating the globe, while his 
 name lives in the recollection of kindred hearts, 
 which knew and acknowledged him in his worth, 
 as a man. This is the ' seaman,' developed in 
 struggles, braving every danger, in the con- 
 sciousness of his mental power and manly 
 dignity. 
 
 " Opposed to the Seaman, we see the '.Skipper.' 
 The skipper has entered upon a seafaring life, 
 because he was good for nothing on shore ; h( 
 ran away from his apprenticeship to a tailor, and 
 Was not strong enough for a blacksmith or car- 
 penter. He sails ten years before the mast, and 
 at length becomes mate, because there is no one 
 else who can write the account in a table of 
 reckoning, and call 'stop!' when casting the 
 log. He arrives, in twelve years, as second 
 mate, so far that he can keep a ' log book,' and 
 come tolerably near to the latitude by means of 
 the sextant, when the horizon is not too uncer- 
 tain, and the ship too ' crank.' At length he finds 
 a captain who makes him first mate, and keeps 
 him in his employ for years because he is as 
 stupid as himself, and tolerates him because he, 
 as mate, falces no notice of the captain's blun- 
 ders. He becomes captain by his good name as 
 a manager, by his marriage with a widow, by 
 the caprice of an old woman, by tlie death of a 
 captain, or by the influence of a sister or niece 
 in the service of a merchant, and gets a ship, to 
 repair the rigging, patch the sails, and take a crew 
 over the sea on 'he ' starving system.' Having 
 completely fulhlled the expectations of the 
 stingiest of owners in this respect, a better ves- 
 sel, with a more numerous crew, is confided to 
 his ' hunger cure.' He is now captain, and re- 
 mains so, and lays up money, that he may retire 
 H 
 
 as soon as possible. He traffics and cheats on 
 board and on shore, and sells his own clothes to 
 a sailor, in payment of his monthly wages. In- 
 stead of the ' Nautical Almanac,' he carries an 
 old Low Dutch reckoning book. He knows 
 nothing of the distances of the constellations, and 
 has no acquaintance with any star in the heavens 
 but the evening star, which once caught his 
 attention, because it sparkled alone. He carries 
 no chronometer, for he does not know how to 
 use it. On a long course, he relies upon the acci- 
 dental meeting of a ship which knows the longi- 
 tude, and then boasts to his mate of his preci- 
 sion, if he has not made a mistake of more than 
 1°. He treats his crew like slaves, and his officers 
 like servants ; drinks a glass of wine or grog him- 
 self, but enjoins ' temperance' upon all besides, 
 for he maintains that ' spirits and much meat 
 are real poison at sea.' The provisions are given 
 out to the crew in his presence, and he strictly 
 controls the weight. If the ration is short by a 
 half pound, he thinks it is ' very well ! the next 
 time more can be given.' His favorite seat is 
 the water butt, upon the afterdeck, where he 
 observes the clouds. The least unfavorable 
 change in the wind sets his blood in a ferment, 
 and in a contrary wind, or even in a calm, he 
 loses his senses ; he raves about like a madman, 
 looks up the cabin boy, to find some fault with 
 him, and seizes the nearest rope to cool his 
 wrath ]upon him. If the wind becomes favor- 
 able, he chats with the man at the helm and 
 with the cook, and promises the mate his influ- 
 ence to procure him a ship. In the neighbor- 
 hood of the coast, he is thrown into a feVer of 
 anxiety, because he does not know where he is ; 
 he climbs the mast ten times a day, and insists 
 that a sailor must see land where there is none. 
 If he should, at length, find a pilot boat, he gets 
 intoxicated for joy, gives over his ship to the 
 pilot, and lays himself down in his berth. 
 
 "On land he is a sea hero, and relates miracles ot 
 his ability as seaman. He is fond of associating 
 with the captains with whom he once sailed be- 
 fore the mast, and allows himself to be treated by 
 them at the ship chandler's and in hotels. As 
 the time approaches for him to put to sea again, 
 he becomes cross and discontented, for he fears 
 the sea * as a miserable sinner does the devil. 
 He keeps no mate with him for more than one 
 voyage, and m sailor will hire with him wlio 
 iias ever met with any one who has sailed 
 with him before. He cheats his owners, and 
 knows how to save, in provisions and in the 
 inventory, for tliem and for himself, and retains 
 their good opinion of him as an 'able captain.' 
 When he has raked money enough together, he 
 retires to repose, and becomes a grocer or tavern 
 keeper in the neighborhood of a harbor, fre- 
 quented by sailors. He shudders at the thought 
 of the sea, but allows himself, nevertheless, to be 
 called ' captain,' and keeps a picture of the ship 
 which he last had charge of, in a frame and glass. 
 .Such is the ' skipper,' as contrasted with the 
 ' seaman.' 
 
 " The third, or, properly, the middle class, 
 is represented liy the ' Captain.' He is neither 
 seaman nor skipper, and there is nothing further 
 to be said of him, than that he is 'captain of this 
 or that ship.' 
 
 It is self-evident that the true seaman is to 
 be found in all ranks ; among the sailors of
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 merchant vessels, as well as amona; the mid- 
 shipmen of the navy ; although many a skip- 
 per and captain, favored by fortune, commands 
 a frigate, which the seaman, who stands at the 
 helm as a sailor, would be more capable of 
 guiding. In respect to the three above appella- 
 tions, we remark, in conclusion, that the word 
 ' seaman' is often used where a skipper or captain 
 is meant, and in English may, perhaps, be re- 
 placed by the word ' sailor.' But our notion of a 
 good seamen is, evidently, something difi'erent 
 from that of a good sailor, for every skipper and 
 captain can be a good sailor — ' if he has a good 
 wind.' " 
 
 Bob Walker had finished reading, and still 
 held the book in his hand, as if unwilling to part 
 with it, when Captain Finngreen hastily entered 
 the cabin, and unrolled a chart. He marked his 
 course, and called, through the open skylight, 
 " Northeast by east !" 
 
 " Northeast by east !" repeated the man at the 
 helm, and the captain left the cabin as hastily 
 as be had entered it. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 EETROSPECT AND REVELATION. 
 
 The brig Nordstjernan had got under way 
 about noon, and was favored by a moderate south 
 breeze, for, like many other vessels, she sailed 
 proportionably better before a half wind. 
 
 Four and twenty hours had passed away, and 
 as the seaman expresses if, ninety miles " had 
 altered" in respect to the distance between her 
 starting place, and the place where she now 
 floated." 
 
 Many ships and fishing boats had sailed past 
 her, in opposite direction, and this and that flag 
 had, from far and near, saluted the Swedish 
 colors. Among the various sails, was likewise 
 seen an Argentine man-of-war brig, easily to be 
 distinguished as such, by the red stripe under 
 the black bulwarks. She passed up the stream, 
 and seemed to take little notice of any merchant 
 vessel, whatever flag it bore, while she sought 
 to take advantage of the wind, and was probably 
 under special instructions to reach the place of 
 her destination as speedily as possible. 
 
 The Nordstjernan had safely passed, in the 
 aboye distance, by the " Bank of Ortiz" and 
 " Point Espinilla," and was now distant from 
 Monte Vicdo some thirty miles, in the direction 
 of" Memory Point," when the south breeze gra- 
 dually became lighter, and at last almost died 
 away. The weather was remarkable fine, and 
 oll'ered the passengers the most agreeable prome- 
 nade, or at least a beneficial airing on deck, if 
 their legs had not acquired the seaman's step for 
 walking about. 
 
 Excepting a cloudbank in the southwe3t,which 
 appeared to contain the materials of a thunder 
 storm, the heavens displayed the deep blue so 
 peculiar to that zone, and through whose in- 
 describable purity, the air itself becomes an ele- 
 ment of invigoration, a balsam of life to the breast 
 which inhales it. 
 
 Friendly " Cape pigeons," dazzling white 
 
 gigantic seagulls, and yet larger brownish grey 
 fishhawks, circled around, and flew above the 
 Swedish brig in all directions, from time to time 
 dipping down into the " keel water," the exten- 
 sion of which became constantly narrower in 
 the decreasing breeze, and the foam of which 
 constantly lessened. 
 
 " We have now one thing, above all others, to 
 fear," said Captain Fingreen, in a low tone, to 
 Ormur, who walked at his side with hasty steps, 
 up and down the quarterdeck; "I mean the 
 chance that the secret police, notwithstanding 
 all the precautions on the part of Mr. Walker, 
 may discover the trace of Senora Dolores, sus- 
 pect her flight here on board, and that we shall 
 yet have that cursed man-of-war after us." 
 
 " The chance is possible returned Ormur, 
 " and not improbable, although that officer 
 searched the ship thoroughly, and let the young 
 lady in your cabin, pass for ' Miss Walker.' I can 
 by no means deny my own anxiety in this res- 
 pect ; but we have at present a light wind, 
 almost a calm, and must abide our fate." 
 
 "And the miserable brig-of-war, if she should 
 really be sent after us, will probably have the 
 current with her, and make her four or five miles 
 an hour, with even as light a wind as we now 
 have, while we lie here in a calm and contrary 
 current, as if at anchor ; that is the misfortune, 
 lieutenant." 
 
 " Lay aside that disagreeable Russian naval 
 title," interrupted Ormur. Call me Ormur, Ola- 
 fur, or Hinango, whichever you prefer, but not 
 by an imperial title, which was once forced upon 
 me." 
 
 " It seems always like a dream to me, that 
 you are here on board with me," said Captain 
 Finngreen, who was acquainted with Ormur's 
 position as a patriot, without having seen him 
 personally. " No one at home has heard a syl- 
 lable about you in years We knew no more 
 than that you were sent off to Kamtschatka, 
 Siberia, or the Caucasus." 
 
 " And at present, hardly any one in my father- 
 land knows where I am, except some officers of 
 the Russian secret police, for a man in my cir- 
 cumstances is deprived of even the last conso- 
 lation of correspondence with friends and rela- 
 tions. I would as little write, and compromise 
 my friends at home, by any communication with 
 them, as a letter would be likely to reach them 
 through the barriers of the secret police." 
 
 " You were, then, while ' Chef de Bureau' in 
 the Marine Department, suddenly escorted to 
 Circassia ?" asked the captain, after a pause. 
 
 *' I was stripped of my office and rank, de- 
 graded to a common soldier, and placed for life in 
 a cavalry regiment, which had talcen the field 
 against the Circassians." 
 
 " And the sole cause of this degradation, lay 
 in your position as associate in a conspiracy ?" 
 
 " If you choose to call it so, captain, certainly, 
 as far as an extensive, restless, and efficient con- 
 spiracy excites the heart of nearly all the na- 
 tions of Europe, against the present arrogance 
 of despotism. Strictly speaking, however, the 
 cause lay in myself, in my inward being, in my 
 nature as a man. You know the predilection 
 of my race, or our national talents as some 
 call it, for poetry and music — the intellect of our 
 people, which not even the knout of the Czar 
 can suppress or eradicate. And Providence
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 63 
 
 has also entrusted a pleilge to me, of which I 
 shall some time ^ive an account — I mean the 
 glowing, irrepressible impulse of tlie mind to 
 express itself in the weight of word, in the 
 great contest of our centurt. I was born with 
 this impulse, it dwells within me as a part of 
 my exislence, and can as little be separated from 
 me, as I can think of being separated from myself. 
 
 " It was sufficient to be known as a 7nan, by the 
 government, to draw upon me the closest ob- 
 servation of tlie secret police. I ]>assed several 
 years as an officer, in service, on board of a cor- 
 vette in the Bosphorus, entered into connexion 
 with some young Greeks in Constantinople, and 
 indirectly into correspondence with patriots in 
 Italy. By such means, some of my poetical 
 manuscripts reached Paris. Promoted as lieu- 
 tenant commanding of a small brig, the Kam- 
 schatka, of t%velve guns, I found my station as a 
 cruiser in the Grecian Archipelago. When the 
 Kamschatka returned in the Neva, 1 was called 
 from her, and jilaced in an office of the Marine 
 Department, undea' the strictest supervision. The 
 revolution broke out in Poland, and the sympathy 
 of our Scandinavian race in this cause of hu- 
 manity was closely watched in each individual 
 man, for it was feared. 
 
 " i came under examination, respecting so cal- 
 led ' treasonable' corresjKindence with ' rebels' 
 in Italy and France, and was then degraded. I 
 served two years as a hussar in the war against 
 the Circassians, and took an opportunity to go 
 over to them, when 1 was wounded, and fell into 
 their hands. I was cured, and treated by them 
 as a man. They assisted me in my flight to- 
 wards the Black Sea, and I escaped, by the way 
 of Constantinople and Malta, incognito, to Mar- 
 seilles. Italian refugees, young men of the first 
 rank, in a social and intellectual respect, had 
 found a temporary asylum there, and 1 discov- 
 ered amongst them some of my early confiden- 
 tial correspondents. 
 
 " At the close of the year IS31 , a political as- 
 sociation, ' Young Italy,' was formed at Mar- 
 seilles, whose committee, however, were ex- 
 pelled from France, and obliged to betake them- 
 selves to Geneva. 
 
 " The revolution in Italy was suppressed, as the 
 Poles were disarmed ; but, neverthless, that spirit 
 prevailed, and fermented throughout Europe, 
 which neither chains nor dungeons were able 
 to bind or eradicate. 
 
 " Oh ! Captain Finngreen, it was an exalted 
 epoch ! It was a time, captain, in which a man 
 might feel proud of his dignity as m.iui — when 
 the mind of the nations, the mind of all the 
 nations of Europe, when all mankind, was 
 aroused and in movement, in longing faith in a 
 higher destiny, in faith in themselves, in faith 
 in God !" 
 
 Ormur's eye sparkled with inspiration ; he 
 remained standing, and looking up into the 
 azure of the heavens — pursuing a thought which, 
 for the moment, led him away from earth ! " It 
 was a great period," continued he; " and who- 
 ever has lived through it, in open struggle 
 against the ' confederates of tyranny, by the grace 
 of God,' who have stained the thrones of Europe 
 with the martyr blood of the noblest sons of all 
 nations — whoever ha.s lived through that time, as 
 I have fought through it, will never more despair 
 of tile cause of humanity — never more despair of 
 
 the uprising of the nations in the spirit of hu- 
 manity ! 
 
 " Once more, in regard to the peculiar ap 
 pearances of that epoch," he continued, as he 
 again walked up and down with Captain Finn- 
 green. " I am telling you now of that spirit 
 of truth and freedom, which we acknowledge in 
 the history of the development of mankind, and 
 which has revealed itself in the eternal struggle 
 of the idea, so far as we can look back into the 
 past. This spirit, which shone around me in its 
 reality, and penetrated the hearts of all the na- 
 tions of Europe, awaked simultaneously in Italy, 
 in Poland, in Switzerland, in Spain, in Germany, 
 and in France — after it had, for years before, 
 manifested, in these nations, symptoms of its 
 workings and strivings. It appeared in the bar- 
 ricades of July, in Paris ; it extended from 
 thence, arousing, as if by an electric shock, the 
 strength of the people, through all those coun- 
 tries of Europe ; contended, in all forms, in word 
 and deed, with blood and life, through neai-ly 
 four years, until treachery succeeded in disarm- 
 ing it, in Savoy, where it sought to concentrate 
 its last forces, as the advanced guard of the 
 future, Europe's sons, out of five nations " 
 
 " Now, captain, about what time shall we be 
 at Rio de Janeiro .'" inquired the little beetle 
 man, as he stepped in between Ormur and the 
 captain, and stuck his hands into the wide 
 pockets of his inexpressibles. 
 
 " When we shall have the ' Sugar Loaf be 
 hind us, and pass the fortress of Santa Cruz," 
 returned the captain, with a side glance at the 
 seaman ne.xt him. 
 
 " 1 knew nearly as much as that myself," said 
 the savant, who appeared a little embarrassed at 
 having uttered the inquiry. " See there ! there 
 comes our young Englishwoman; she has made 
 her appearance at last !" he exclaimed, as Seiiora 
 Dolores, in a black mantilla, led by Corinna, 
 ascended the cabin steps, and took a seat in th» 
 shadow of a sail. 
 
 " She looks as if she was a little sea-sick. 
 Advise her, captain, to take some gammon, with 
 mustard, and then a little ' schnapps' after it. 
 That is a good preventive of sea-sickness ; I 
 know that by experience." 
 
 Horatio and Robert Walker approached the 
 ex-lieutenant of the Russian navy, to conduct 
 him to Dolores at her request, in consequence 
 of the written introduction of Seiior Testa. 
 
 Dr. Merbold was curious to listen to the sal- 
 utations of the voyagers, and was following at 
 their heels, when Horatio's presence of mind, 
 supplied him with a means of attraction to draw 
 away the German savant for an instant. 
 
 " I will now show you my collection of bee 
 ties, doctor !" said he, " if you will accompany 
 me to the cabin." 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure," replied the 
 zealous entomologist, who almost leaped for joy, 
 and liurried to the cabin steps, without casting a 
 glance back at the " young English woman," 
 and the two passengers. 
 
 Dolores gazed long, with a penetrating look, 
 upon the " friend," who had been led to her, 
 by so mysterious a union of events and of inter- 
 nal relationship, as the companion of her fate- 
 ful voyage. Incapable, for the moment, of find- 
 ing words by which to express her excite<j 
 feelings, she held out her hand to the Scaudiua-
 
 1^ 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 vian, and while she sought for utterance, she 
 seemed to derive support and consolation in her 
 grief, from the consciousness that a spiritual as- 
 sociation existed in a distant part of the world, 
 whose confederates, striving after the same goal 
 of the future, in the spirit of love which ani- 
 mated her, also found the strength to act, to en- 
 dure, and to suffer. 
 
 " I hear, through Horatio, and indirectly 
 through our friend Testa, on what mission you 
 have come to us," she began, after this silence. 
 " 1 thank you for the sympathy and the sacri- 
 fices, which you offer to the cause of my father- 
 land ; may your own consciousness say more to 
 you, than these weak words are able to express. 
 
 " Horatio has explained to me that you brought 
 particular communications from our associates in 
 Europe and in IVIonte Video, to two of our 
 countrymen, both of whom — are no more !" She 
 ceased for a moment, pursuing the contempla- 
 tions which this retrospect awakened in her, 
 and then continued : " The most confidential 
 colleague of my friend, Alphonso, became a 
 Sacrifice before him, to the bloodthirsty tyranny 
 which the foreign journalists (in the pay of Ro- 
 sas) praise as a mild and liberal government. 
 
 Alphonso followed him " She broke off again, 
 
 evidently struggling with herself, and then cast 
 a glance at Robert Walker, who had gone aside 
 some paces, and leaned over the bulwark, from 
 the discreet desire of not disturbing the inter- 
 view. 
 
 " Did you not learn yesterday morning, from 
 our young friend, iMr. Walker, the particular's of 
 Alphonso's death — of his last moments .'" _ 
 
 " I observed," returned Ormur, " that Senor 
 Testa, spoke to Wr. Walker, in all haste, at the 
 moment of embarkation, as he handed him the 
 
 letter for me " He hesitated to proceed further. 
 
 Dolores manifested, by the expression of her 
 countenance, that she had attained sufficient 
 fi.rmness to receive the particulars of the execu- 
 tion, for which she had, in so elevated a spirit, 
 Sought to prepare lier beloved. 
 
 " Mr. Walker will communicate to you, what 
 Seiior Testa whispered in his ear," said Ormur. 
 " Every inquiry on his part, after the condemned, 
 would naturally be suspicious. He appears, 
 however, to have made out to learn that Alphon- 
 so " He stopped again. 
 
 ** Proceed — you see 1 am composed." 
 
 " He appeared, however, to have learned that 
 Alphonso left the earth with the strength of 
 mind which was expected of him. He had re- 
 quested the ' favor of meeting his death with 
 nnbandaged eyes. The moment of his departure 
 to another sphere did not, at least, aggravate his 
 pliysical sutli?ring3 — many balls struck him, and 
 one the heart." 
 
 " The heart I" repeated Dolores, with an 
 emphasis which no words can express ; and al- 
 though, she had thought herself sufficiently 
 strong to receive this last account of the end of 
 Alphonso without agitation, nevertheless, the 
 bloody picture of the martyr's death appeared to 
 have made a painful impression upon her soul. 
 Grief overpowered her. Her countenance be- 
 came deathly pale ; the convulsion which seized 
 her heart, seemed to vibrate through her whole 
 being ; her lips quivered, but spoke not, and her 
 tearless eyes were fixed on vacancy. 
 
 Oimur agaiu found himself, as before with 
 
 Horatio, in the most painful sifuafion, agi?atei 
 by compassion for suffering, for which he had, 
 at his command, no expression of sympathy. 
 
 After ?ome moments, Dolores, by the exertion 
 of all her moral force, succeeded in overcoming 
 the anguish that pervaded her spirit ; she looked 
 calmly in the face of Onnor, and said : *' You are 
 on a mission to my people, and were sent to Al- 
 phonso — it would be a consolation to me — a 
 powerful consolation, if you would transfer to 
 me the sacred trust with which our associates in 
 Europe and in Monte Video honored Al- 
 phonso — 1 believe I have a right to make this 
 request." 
 
 " As valid as is yom- right, so sacred is my 
 duty to make the revelation to you," With these 
 words, Ormur took his seat on the bench next to 
 Dolores, that he might be able to speak lower, and 
 said : " I will, at another time, take the liberty 
 of communicating to yon a review of the internal 
 movements of Europe, of latter years, in case 
 many particalars should be still strange to you. 
 I say internal movements, as the spirit of pro- 
 gress for the deliverance of the nations, as op- 
 posed to despotism, works, as it were, in sub- 
 terranean intrenchments, and the faithful, who 
 rely upon the uprising of mankind, must assem- 
 ble in catacombs, as was done at the time of the 
 dissemination of Christianity, to escape secret 
 and open persecution. After the people of 
 Europe were roused anew to the consciousness 
 of their sacred rights, by the overthrow of the 
 legitimacy in France, in the year 1S30, there 
 succeeded, as you know, a quasi legitimacy, 
 whose operations sought to suppress the cause 
 of the people, by means of treachery, in France, 
 as well as in the other countries of Europe. 
 
 " The nations, however, were aroused, and 
 fought ; but the treachery of particular men, who 
 formerly wore tlie mask of patriotism, and, here 
 and there usurped the rulership, sustained by 
 the despicable venality of their fellows in all 
 classes of the struggling nations, imdermined 
 the cause of freedom ; and ' peace was re-estab- 
 lished in Poland,' as in Italy and France ; and 
 only in Spain, until the present time, do the 
 people contend against absolutism and the Inqui- 
 sition — to find, nevertheless, under the control 
 of the ' holy alliance' of legitimate and quasi 
 legitimate powers, the much praised ' just me- 
 dium,' which offers power to despotism, and 
 liberty to the people, upon a piece of paper 
 called a ' constitution.' 
 
 " Men from five nations, for the most part 
 condemned and banished on account of their 
 patriotism, sought an asylum in France and 
 Switzerland ; drew together, led by the spirit 
 which animated them, and united to make a de- 
 cided armed insurrection, for the manifestation 
 of the idea of the future, of the deliverance of 
 Europe, of the establishment of an offensive and 
 defensive union of the nations of Europe for 
 mutual support, upon the basis of nationality, in 
 the spirit of humanity. 
 
 " The association, ' La Giovine Italia,' has 
 existed since the year 1831. The Italian refugees 
 and exiles, particularly numerous, and more or 
 less penetrated by the exalted spirit which strives 
 to confirm words by deeds, lingered, for the most 
 part, in Switzerland and in the south of France, 
 and sought from thence to maintain their connex- 
 ion with their country, The struggle in Italy
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 85 
 
 was resolved upon and prepared. Polish, French, 
 and German refugees, more or less numerous, 
 united with the Italians in Switzerland, and the 
 Polish, German, and Spanish refugees, confede- 
 rated in France. 
 
 " Scandinavians, also, but few in number, 
 and without claiming to represent our national- 
 ity, made themselves known to the exalted 
 society whicli, at that time, had a spirit, but not 
 a name. 
 
 " The city of Chambery, in Savoy, was to 
 have been our Jerusalem, from whence we hoped 
 to send forth our gospel of freedom, written with 
 the blood of martyrs, to all the nations of Europe. 
 The insurrection was fixed for the 1 2th of 
 November, 1833, and we considered that we 
 should be favored by the time of the year, as it 
 would be difficult for the troops of legitimacy to 
 pass the Alps and smaller mountains around us, 
 whose valleys and gorges would make our de- 
 fence more easy ; at the same time, the Austrian 
 troops stationed in Italy, would infallibly have 
 put themselves in motion against us, vacating 
 the garrisoned towns, and thereby giving the 
 Italians an opportunity to rise. 
 
 " The committee of ' La Giovine Italia,' 
 under the presidency of Mazzini, (whose name 
 and position are known to you,) was stationed at 
 Geneva, in Sw"itzerl%nd. 
 
 " Military prejudices, which prevail in the ar- 
 mies of all monarchies, had forced upon us, as 
 General in Chief, a man who bore a great name 
 in the gazettes, although in his office, as general 
 in Poland, he had already conducted himself 
 very ambiguously. This was Ramorino, born in 
 Savoy, and formerly a French cavalry officer. 
 He was then in Paris, and was to arrive in Ge- 
 neva on an appointed day. He came not ! and 
 sent a so called adjutant to us, with the excuse, 
 tliat he hoped to gain a still great number of as- 
 sociates in France ; and postponed the insurrec- 
 tion to an indefinite time Tliere exists a work 
 in the French language, which gives an expla- 
 nation of the delay, as well as of the commence- 
 ment and issue of the expedition.* I will give 
 it to you in Rio de Janeiro. 
 
 " We waited for Raniorino's determination with 
 painful expectation. He had received from the 
 treasury of our expedition an advance of 40,000 
 francs, and was amusing hjmseif in Paris, 
 sufficiently notorious as a bon vivant, and a pas- 
 sionate gambler. 
 
 " You will find it conceivable that the commit- 
 tee of 'La Giovine Italia,' did not begin tlie insur- 
 rection without Ramorino. Tliure are rela- 
 tions and circumstances, however, in such asso- 
 ciations, which cannot be investigated during 
 the lifetimes of many individuals who were 
 involved in them. A strong protest against the 
 nomination of tlie chief, was by no means want- 
 ing, but a great part of tlie considerable contri- 
 butions to the expedition, which amounted, in all, 
 to nearly two millions of francs, was sent from 
 Italy, under the express stipulation that Ramo- 
 rino, should lake the command, since his news- 
 paper reputation secured to him the necessary 
 influence and consequence, especially amongst 
 the military." 
 
 •Memoires sur La Jeune Italic, et sur les derniers 
 ftivenemena en Savoye, Par Harro-Harring, 2 7ol. Dijon 
 tt Paris : clu:z Dcrivaux, ia34. 
 
 Mr. Ilabakliuk Daily, who stood at a distance, 
 and evidently was not intentionally listening, had 
 accidentally caught the sound of the words, 
 " two millions," without any connexion with 
 the rest, and, from commercial instinct, could 
 not help looking around, as the sound of such a 
 sum had electrified him for the moment ; it was 
 the most interesting thing that he had ever 
 heard from Ormur's mouth ; he recovered him- 
 self, however, as suddenly, and again looked 
 over at the waves. 
 
 Ormur continued : " After long delay, the day 
 of insurrection was at length appointed, for the 
 last of February, 1&33. We endeavored to con- 
 centrate our associates in Switzerland on the 
 Lake of Geneva, and to advance from Grenoble, 
 in France, towards Pont d'Echelles, in the moun- 
 tains of Savoy. Our number was nearly SOO, 
 mostly men and youths of the higher classes, 
 well armed and equipped. 
 
 " 0, Seiiora !" he sighed, after a pause, "those 
 days of insurrection were the most fatally event- 
 ful, but the most glorious days, of my desolate 
 life. The present moment, however,wiil not per- 
 mit any lengthy account of them. All the diffi- 
 culties which treachery and intrigue could lay 
 in the way of our enterprise were adapted, with 
 the nicest calculation, to lame our strength, to 
 nullify our plans, and to suppress a struggle, the 
 consequences of which would, undoubtedly, have 
 broken the neck of despotism in Europe, have 
 dismembered Old Europe with its bloodstained 
 throne, overthrown the prerogatives of tyranny, 
 and called to life a Young Europe from the ruins 
 of the sweat and blood drinking monarchies — 
 a Young Europe that would have found its asso- 
 ciates in the young unions of the United States 
 of the transatlantic world. 
 
 " The princes of Europe trembled, and their 
 diplomatists hid themselves in secret confer- 
 ences ; they recognised the danger, and it was 
 necessary to overthrow our work ; but this over- 
 throw could not be effected by an open contest, 
 for in the armies of many monarchies lay the 
 germs of revolution, as in the nation itself, and 
 Old Europe trembled at the thought of our en- 
 trance into Savoy We could only be disarmed 
 by treason." 
 
 " And you advanced to Chambery ?" asked 
 Dolores, hastily, with eager anticipation. 
 
 " Not without shame must I answer — No," 
 returned Ormur; and he related further, with 
 increasing animation : " I have seen nations at 
 war, and survived the destruction of battles, but 
 never did I witness such an appearance as that ! 
 
 " The spirit, which, in spite of all the treach- 
 ery, favored our insurrection, appeared like the 
 uprising of the united strength of the European 
 nations. The banner of La Giovine Italia,' bore 
 well known inscription, ' Liberia, Equagli- 
 anza, Umanita !' " 
 
 " The same device which Monte Video has 
 adopted," interrupted Dolores. 
 
 " The same," continued Ormur. " One of 
 the noblest ladies of Italy, one of whose sons 
 ended his life in a dungeon, and whose two 
 others marched in the advanced guard of our 
 corps, had embroidered this banner with her own 
 hands ; the banner was unfurled in Savoy, and 
 treachery — treachery undermined our enterprise. 
 
 " I saw a phalanx with the tlowers of the 
 youth and manhood of five nations, in their glit-
 
 S6 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 tering columns, and my heart was near to burst- 
 ing ; Ijut the treachery was made more easy by 
 the spirit of resignation, and sacrifice, and repiib 
 lican self-denial, which inspired each individual 
 among; us. 
 
 " None of the spirited leaders of the cause of 
 the people were wiUini; to assume a rank ; the 
 noblest men of each nation entered the columns 
 as simple volunteers. Men who had singly sac 
 rificed from thirty to forty thousand francs on 
 equipments, marched with tiieir muskets in the 
 ranks of the advanced guard, and left their 
 equipages to follow the rear guard, for the ser- 
 vice of the wounded. 
 
 " Mazzini himself, the founder and chief of 
 the Association of ' La Giovine Italia,' entered 
 the columns, and betook himself to an outpost of 
 the advanced guard. But this republican unpre- 
 tendinguess assisted treachery." 
 
 " The self-denial and absence of pretension 
 was, undoubtedly, exalted in itself; a singular 
 phenomenon of our time, in opposition to the 
 spirit of many republics, in which self interest 
 seeks after office, and parvenues press forward 
 to the highest stations," observed Dolores. 
 
 " Excuse me for to-day," continued Ormur, 
 "from the details of that night at- the foot of 
 Mont Blanc, when the watchfires of the betrayed 
 cause of the people blazed upon the hills — when 
 our numbers were increased by men and youth 
 from far and near — when women sent us weap- 
 ons, and children brought us the muuitions of 
 their fathers. 
 
 " The cunningly planned and well adapted 
 treachery, which had been weaving for three 
 months, rendered our enterprise impossible ; the 
 half of our columns were detained in Switzer- 
 land, so also in France. False orders of the 
 infamous chief, even, divided our strength in 
 Savoy. And he himself fled — -fled like a coward, 
 for he jumped out of a window at the moment 
 when the bayonet of vengeance, which should 
 have pierced him through, went into the wall 
 near him. He fled, and with him confidence 
 from many hearts. We returned back to Swit- 
 zerland, And the same fate overtook the column 
 near Pont d'£chelles. Their chief, Volontiere, 
 was wounded, taken prisoner, and soon after- 
 wards shot at Chambery." 
 
 " Shot ! like Alphonso," sighed Dolores ; and 
 a long pause ensued. 
 
 At length, Ormur continued : " A new asso- 
 ciation has, however, grown out of this enter- 
 prise, the spirit of which has extended through- 
 out Europe, and, flying across the Atlantic ocean, 
 has shown itself on the Rio de La Plata. The 
 founders of this expedition, betrayed and sold, 
 wandered about in Switzerland, while hundreds 
 of its numbers were apprehended, and exiled 
 from the continent to England, the Botany Bay 
 of the Holy Alliance. 
 
 " And many of these men, of different nations, 
 Tinited themselves in an association for the future, 
 at Bern, in Switzerland, founded upon the 
 bloody ruins of the other destroyed edifice — the 
 ' Association of Young Europe.' 
 
 *' For your perusal hereafter, and for commu- 
 nication to Horatio, I hand you, as a historical 
 document in my rel-i*ion, our ' Act of Frater- 
 nity ;' and, at another time, will disclose to yoTj 
 upon what particular mission I have come to 
 South America the second time." With these 
 
 words, Ormur delivered to Dolores an envelope, 
 just as Dr. Merbold appeared on deck v/ith 
 Horatio. 
 
 " Be sure you do not forget the name," said 
 the entomologist : Simplex Aferbo/di-nsis — Sim- 
 plex Mer-bol-den-sis! I have called it so, be- 
 cause it appears extremely simjile, and because 
 I discovered it, and my name is Dr. Merbold, 
 as you know. I have already written down my 
 report to the committee of the Society of Natural 
 History, in Berlin, that 1 may send it from Rio ; 
 and you will know, by and by, from the news- 
 papers, what a sensation my discovery makes. 
 It is one of the most important beetles, and the 
 most interesting discovery in the entomology of 
 our century ; of that I am firmly convinced." 
 
 With these words, the savant followed Horatio, 
 who had only, with the greatest eflbrt, separated 
 himself from Dolores and Ormur, whose dis- 
 course was equally interesting to him, as his new 
 discovery was to the little beetleman. 
 
 " Sit down by me, Horatio, and let us read 
 togetlier a document, the origin of which I 
 will afterwards explain to you," whispered 
 Dolores to the youth ; and both now gave their 
 undivided attention to the perusal of the " Act 
 of Fraternity of Young Europe." 
 
 YOUNG EUROPE. 
 
 LIBERTY EQUALITY HtTMANTrr. 
 
 ^ct of Brotherhood. 
 
 We, undersigned, men of progess and liberty, 
 believing in the 
 
 Equality and brotherhood of men, and the 
 
 Equality and brotherhood of nations : 
 
 Believing also : 
 
 That the human race is destined to advance in 
 a course of continual progress, and under the em- 
 pire of the universal moral law, in the free and 
 harmonifius development of its powers, and the 
 accomplishment of its mission in the universe : 
 
 That this can only be effected by the active 
 concuiTence of all its members in free associa- 
 tions : 
 
 That free associations can only exist among 
 Equals, since all inequality implies a violation 
 of indejiendence, and every violation of indepen- 
 dence impairs the freedom of concert : 
 
 That Liberty, Equality, and Humanity, are 
 equally sacred : that they are the three necessary 
 elements in every satisfactory solution of the 
 problem of society : and that, wherever any one 
 of them is neglected from regard to the two 
 others, the attempt to solve this problem must 
 prove a failure : 
 
 Being satisfied : 
 
 That although the objects which the different 
 branches of the human race aim at, are necessa- 
 rily the same, and the general prin:iples which 
 direct their progress essentially similar — ^there 
 are, nevertheless, a thousand difl'erent ways by 
 which the common purpose may be effected : 
 
 Being satisfied : 
 
 That each man and each nation has a peculiar 
 mission, in which individuality consists, and 
 through which it concurs in accomplishing the 
 mission of the race in general : 
 
 Being satisfied, finally : 
 
 Tliat associations of men and nations ought to 
 combine security for the full accomplishment of
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 87 
 
 the individual m'ission with certainty of concur- 
 ring in that of the general mission of the race : 
 
 Strong in our rights as men — strong in our 
 consciences^ and in the duty which God and 
 Humanity impose upon every one, who is willin, 
 to devote his arm, his mind, his whole being, to 
 the sacred cause of the progress of nations : 
 
 We have formed ourselves into national 
 associations, free and independent of each other, 
 intended as the germs of 
 
 Young Poland, Voung Italy, and Young 
 Germany .' 
 
 Having met together in council to promote 
 the general good, v/ith our hands placed on our 
 hearts, and in full confidence of a successful 
 result, have agreed upon the following declara- 
 tion: 
 
 I. 
 
 Y'oung Germany, You7ig Pol and, and Young 
 Italy, republican associations, intended to effect 
 the same general object, and having a common 
 belief in Liberty, Equ.ility, and Progress, hereby 
 unite themselves into one brotherhood, now and 
 forever, for all purposes belonging to the com- 
 mon object 
 
 n. 
 
 A declaration of the principles that constitute 
 the moral law, as applied to nations, shall be 
 drawn in common, and signed by the three na- 
 tional committees. It shall sijecify the belief, 
 the object, and the general course of proceeding 
 of the three associations ; and no association can 
 act otherwise than in conformity to this declara- 
 tion, without a culpable violation of the Act of 
 Brotherhood. 
 
 m. 
 
 In all matters not concerning the declaration 
 of principles, and not of general interest, the 
 three associations are severally free and inde- 
 pendent of each other. 
 
 IV. 
 
 An alliance, offensive and defensive, is hereby 
 established among the three associations, as rep- 
 resentatives of the nations to which they respect- 
 ively belong ; and each of them shall be author- 
 ized to claim the aid and cooperation of the others 
 in every important enterprise for the promotion 
 of the common object. 
 
 V. 
 
 The assembling of the three committees, or 
 their delegates, shall constitute the Committee 
 of Young Europe. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The members of the three associations shall 
 regard each other as brothers, and discharge 
 towards each other the duties belonging to that 
 relation. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Committee of Young Europe shall agree 
 upon a badge to be worn by the members of the 
 tliree associations, and a motto to be placed at 
 the head of the proclamations. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Any other nation, which may desire to unite 
 in this alliance, may do so by agreeing to and 
 signing, through its representatives, the present 
 Act. 
 
 itonc at Berne, (Swilzerland,) .ipril \blh, 1834. 
 Lilere follow the signatures.) 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE PURSUIT. 
 
 Four and twenty hours more had passed over, 
 and the fatal calm had only been occasionally 
 interrupted by the variable caprices of the airy 
 element, while the current in the distant mouth 
 of the basin, round Point Piedras, was more like 
 a whirlpool, which, delayed the voyage, rather 
 than favored it. 
 
 Under such circumstances, the Nordstjernan 
 had altered her distance very little, and had only 
 approached a few miles nearer, to the coast of 
 Monte Video, whose mountain top had now be- 
 come visible, and fixed the attention of the pas- 
 sengers, if only, as land, interrupting the uni- 
 formity of the voyage. 
 
 Dolores, however, as well as Ormur, Horatio, 
 and Alvarez observed, with other sentiments 
 than those of curiosity, a country whose his- 
 tory assumes so important a page in the annala 
 of nations, in the sacred book of mankind. 
 
 " Men have their sacred missions here on earth, 
 And nations have their mission — men there be, 
 Impressed with selX-consciousnessof strength, 
 In IreeUom's path, who break the people's way. 
 And there are nations, by tlieir station urged, 
 And through their sad and dreadiul fate impelled, 
 To talte the lead in manliind's bloody path 
 Of reformatiun — patterns to the world. 
 Loosing themselves from slavery and disgrace 
 
 Only by union and the consciousness, 
 Of nationality in freemen's hearts, 
 Can any nation raise itself in strength. 
 Long as the world endures this truth shall stand- 
 
 Kob nations of their nationality. 
 The high consciousness of spiritual strength. 
 And down they sink to vilest slavery, 
 Without the power to act as freemen do, 
 In manhood's bonds, and in the fear of God." 
 
 We distinguish Monte Video by the above 
 lines, the South Americans of la Banda Orien- 
 tate, of Uruguay, their position and their strug- 
 gle in our century ; and even from the beginning 
 of our century up to the present time. 
 
 We admire, in reading the annals of antiquity, 
 the strength and opposition, the courage and 
 sacrifices of the jVIaccabees, and the Lacedemo- 
 nians, in contending against an external foe. 
 And many nations of the earth, who glory in 
 their civilization and freedom, appear little in- 
 clined to acknowledge a nation which lies nearer 
 to them in geographical position, than any other 
 nation in historical ; a people whose blood 
 moistens the shores to which every day heavily 
 freighted ships from different parts of the world 
 are wafted, and for half a century have taken 
 home with them superficial intelligence of the 
 uninterrupted struggle of this people, " which 
 disturbs commerce, and interferes with mercan- 
 tile speculation." 
 
 As in Asia, the Circassians have contended 
 for thirty years against the lust of conquest of a 
 barbarian despotism, which, under the Jesuitical 
 pretext of " civilizing the people," endeavors to 
 introduce the knout there, in a savage war of 
 extermination, and to subjugate the spirit; ao 
 have the people of the Bumla Oriental strug- 
 gled, for nearly half a century, against the asso- 
 
 * Moses zu Tanis, von Harro-Harring. Second vol 
 ume of his works, New York edition.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ciated despotic power of two hemispheres, first 
 freeing themselves from the Spanish yoke, then 
 against the iiginterrupted assaults of English 
 lust of conquest, as against the monarchical pre- 
 tensions of Brazil, and against a tyrannic power, 
 for which the history of the nations has, as yet, 
 no name, since, in itself, it stands without 
 example — a people governed by a murderer, 
 who, long ago, in the judgement of sound reason, 
 deserved death by the hand of the executioner. 
 
 Much has been written and prated, by diplo- 
 matists and political tinkers, (with and without 
 orders in their buttonholes,) upon the right and 
 the system of the intervention and the non- 
 intervention, of legitimate and quasi legitimate 
 powers, in the contest of one or another nation, 
 against outward enemies, and against the despot- 
 ism of the Church and State witliin their bounda- 
 ries ; and nation upon nation contends for its 
 most sacred rights, and sheds its noblest blood, 
 and the question of intervention is decided by 
 the " right of the strongest," through the brutal 
 power of tyranny. 
 
 If we consider the struggle for freedom of the 
 South American people of the Banda Oriental, we 
 do not see a petty sti-ife, induced by boundary 
 questions, as the archives of a decayed vice- 
 royalty designate it; nor some shepherds' feud, 
 about wells and pastures for their flocks. The 
 contest appears to us as a " hereditary war" on 
 the part of a usurper, who first learned to read 
 and write when the anarchy made use of 
 his scourge and butcher knife in the war of ex- 
 termination against the natives of the counti-y, 
 against the hardy tribes of the pampas of Pata- 
 gonia, and against the " rebels" of the Banda 
 Oriental, which proudly disregarded the docu- 
 ments of the archives of the Spanish vice- 
 royalty. 
 
 We behold, in this exterminating war of the 
 " usurper from the stable," the " principle of the 
 antiquated letter," which was, perhaps, originally 
 new to his ignorance, but wliich, in the history 
 of national development, is sufEciently known, 
 and repudiated with sufficient contempt. 
 
 Tlie usurper fights, with the scourge and axe, 
 to sustain and reinstate a confederation of the 
 Spanisli hereditary provinces of La Plata, after 
 the letter of the archives and the provisionary 
 statutes, without regard to tlie mighty demand's 
 and progress of the spirit which tumbles into a 
 heap crowns and thrones, together with their 
 archives, and breaks its way to the goal of en- 
 noblement, from century to century. 
 
 Monte Viedo contends against the usurper, 
 and contends at the sacrifice of life, for the prin- 
 ciple of freedom as the basis of all political, mo- 
 ral, and religious development ; for the idea of 
 unity as an mdependent state in itself, and for 
 the unity of all the South American States un- 
 der the form of the United States of South Amer- 
 ica, in the spirit of humanity, as opposed to the 
 letter of the archives of the United Provinces of 
 La Plata, under the axe of the usurper. 
 
 This is the position of the two foes. This is 
 the war of extermination and of conquest of the 
 Gaucho, the war of despair of Monte Video, of 
 the Unitarians of South America. And this 
 struggle of Monte Video against enemy upon 
 enemy, now the Spaniard, now the Briton, now 
 the Brazilian, now the mercenaries of Rosas — 
 this struggle ol a people, so small in numbers. 
 
 during half a century, for a principle, for an ex- 
 alted idea, is unexampled in the history of na- 
 tions, and of all times, from the graves of the 
 last of tlie Maccabees, up to the present day * 
 
 " Monte Video !" exclaimed Dolores, in the 
 circle of her travelling companions and spiritual 
 associates, and stretched her arms towards the 
 blue promontory, which rested like a cloud upon 
 the horizon. Soon, however, she pressed her 
 right hand to her forehead, and depressed her 
 head, while she supported herself by the bul- 
 wark, and ^sank into a revery ; the feelings 
 which gnawed at her heart were incapable of 
 rhetorical efi'usion. She sank into contempla- 
 tions, similar to those which have just been pre- 
 sented to us, and then, looking into the future, at 
 length sought words for the alleviation of her 
 griefs, and said, in a low voice, turning to her 
 surrounding friends. "How singularly that moun- 
 tain projects, isolated, as if placed by nature, as 
 a significant waymarli of navigation, at the en- 
 trance to the river La Plata ; and so does Monte 
 Video stand forth, as a state, as an isolated, sepa- 
 rated people, as if appointed by Providence, as 
 a waymark of civilization — in the pure sense of 
 the word, as a waymark to the nations of the 
 earth, who contend for their sacred rights. 
 Monte Video rises above the blood polluted 
 waves of the age, an eternal example of the 
 power of the people, of steadfastnes, and of re- 
 sistance to conquest and subjugation." 
 
 " 1 hear you have been in Rio de Janeiro," 
 said Mr. William Rossbriick, interrupting the 
 observation of the poetess of La Plata, as he ap- 
 proached the group with Mr. Robert Wallier, 
 and addressed himself to Ormur Olafur, in his 
 German dialect ; " do you know, perhaps, one 
 of your countrymen — I believe he is from a Rus- 
 sian, province, like yourself — a certain Louis 
 Closting? He is quite a celebrated man, and is 
 shortly to become Brazilian C/iargi d'jlffairea 
 somevere in Europe. He is genealogist, or 
 geologist, or mineralogist, or someting of te 
 sort." 
 
 " Louis Closting!" repeated Ormur, irritated 
 by this interruption ; " 1 have heard of the man, 
 although he was not in Rio at the time of my 
 arrival. 1 have known one Louis Closting from 
 my youth." 
 
 " Indeed ! I am verry glad of tat," continued 
 Mr. Rossbriick , " ve are interested in great 
 business negotiations vit him, respecting ex- 
 tensive colonization, in an undertaking vich 
 
 * The humane institutlona of the Banda Oriental, in 
 opposition to the self-will of the despoiic sovereign of 
 Bueuos Ayres, have been in existence since the year 
 l53U, and are as follows : 
 
 " An elective gobernador (president) and two cham- 
 bers, the one nine senators, and the other twenty-nine 
 representatives. 
 
 " Freedom of religion and the press. Freedom of speech 
 and of protest. Education at the expense ol tiie govern- 
 ment. Trial by jury. Public justice. A citizen militia 
 in all the nine departments of the repuldic. No standing 
 army. Only a garrison of five hundred men in the cap- 
 ital. Code S'apoleon as tlie law, with alterations in rela- 
 tion to local circumstances. Each foreigner who settles 
 in the country, has the privilege of citizenship. Who- 
 ever is inclined to builj there, receives si\ty acres of 
 land free from all taxes, for twenty 3ears, and provisions, 
 free of expense, until the ne.xt harvest. After the exjii- 
 ration of twenty years, a yearly tax often dollars at the 
 utmost, is imposed upon the si'xty acres. Atwlishment 
 of the slave trade and of slavery. Freeing of negro 
 slaves, with indemnihcation on the part of the state to 
 their former owners, etc., etc. 
 
 (
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 89 
 
 rjll bring millions in circulation ; a colony upon 
 Santa Catharina." 
 
 Mr. Bob Walker had followed the pseudo 
 gentleman from curiosity, as he had hastily ad- 
 vanced to Ormur, and could not suppress a secret 
 smile at such mistimed talkativeness, but he sud- 
 denly became extremely attentive. 
 
 " Indeed!" replied Ormur, to this undesired 
 communication. " Then I hope that we do not 
 mean the same person, or tliat Mr. Louis Clos- 
 ting has ' put on the new man ' since his de- 
 parture from the North." 
 
 " How so .'" inquired the young merchant, 
 apparently surprised at this remark. 
 
 " The only question is, as to the identity of the 
 person of whom we ai-e both speaking. About 
 Louis Closting, whom 1 knew but too well in 
 my youth, you can obtain sufficient information 
 from a man whose address I will give you, in 
 case you desire it." 
 
 " 1 tank you verry kindly, beforewai-d, for your 
 obligingness," interrupted Mr, Rossbriick. " You 
 can verry veil understand how important it must 
 be to our house to obtain information respecting 
 Mr. Closting's former standing in Europe, espe- 
 cially ven te undertaliing, of vich he has com- 
 municated to us te plan, vill bring some mil- 
 lions in circulation." 
 
 " I can, certainly, very well imagine such a^ 
 circumstance," rejoined Ormur ; " but I still 
 doubt the identity of the person of whom we 
 speak." 
 
 " May I beg you to tell me, vitout circum- 
 stances, vat you have learned of te character and 
 honesty of tis Louis Closting, hom you mean. 
 Excuse te question ; I have a peculiar interest 
 in tis ting, especially as it " 
 
 " Concerns some millions," added Robert 
 Walker, with a peculiar glance at Ormur. 
 
 " I have no occasion to make any secret 
 about facts in relation to a man who very little 
 interests me, and whoml should not wish to con- 
 sider among my acquaintance," replied Ormur. 
 
 " Did he play some tricks in his yout ?" 
 inquired Mr. Rossbriick, evidently suflering 
 from curiosity, until he received the expected 
 information. 
 
 " When I arrived in Rio de Janeiro, two years 
 and a half since," related Ormur, " 1 found tliere 
 an acquaintance of my youth, a certain ilenry 
 Fitz — an optician, and teacher of astronomy — 
 whom I had been very fond of when a boy ; he 
 was brought up by a relation, in my native 
 place. In after years, I met him, here and there, 
 in foreign countries. Tlie first word, so to 
 speak, that I heard from him in Rio de Janeiro, 
 was the name of Closting, since he probably 
 thought it would be very interesting to me to 
 hear something about him." 
 
 " And vat did he tell you about him, if I may 
 inquire ?" 
 
 " That he lived in Brazil; and, to my question, 
 who this Closting was, whom I had nearly for- 
 gotten, he reminded me of a certain prank, 
 ' a la Cartouche,' as he called it, which Mr. 
 Closting had played in a Northern capital." 
 
 " I am verry curious." 
 
 " Mr. Henry Fitz asserted that this was the 
 same Mr. Closting who once disguised himself as 
 adjutant of his king, and as such, presented a 
 forged requisition for a certain sum in the war 
 department, or upon some officer of the royal 
 12 
 
 treasury, received the money, and took himselt 
 oil' with it." 
 
 " Vat do you say .' can tat be te same Mr. Clos- 
 ting, ho is negotiating vit our house, in re- 
 spect to an undertaking tat vill bring some mil- 
 lions in circulation ?" 
 
 "On that point, you can receive ample informa- 
 tion from the person I spoke ol", in Rio de Ja- 
 neiro, w'nose address I will give you. If he 
 should have changed his residence, it will be 
 easy to inquire it out, for he is sufficiently well 
 known." 
 
 " As an honorable man, I presume ?" interrup- 
 ted Mr Rossbriick. 
 
 " He is a man of great talent, but poor as a 
 church mouse, and from thence it may easily be 
 inferred that he makes no money at the expense 
 of others. So far as 1 know him, he is incapa- 
 ble of trickery, or deceit ; but he is improvident 
 in the highest decree, and does not know the 
 worth of money, like a merchant. He lived a 
 long time in Paris, is more of a Frenchman, 
 than a Scandinavian, and likes to pass for a 
 Frenchman." 
 
 " I shall be exceedingly tankful to you, if you 
 vill give me his address," said the young gentle- 
 man, taking out his letter case, " tat it may not 
 be forgotten, if 1 may ask it." Ormur took a 
 silver pencil, wliich was suspended from his 
 neck, and asked permission to write the address 
 of his countryman with his own hand ; it was 
 granted, and Mr. Rossbriick then went into the 
 cabin, to his writing desk, sunk in profound re- 
 flections upon the important discover^' which 
 he had just made. 
 
 " That young man, may be the representative 
 of a mercantile house," remarked Mr. Walker, 
 " but he is not a ' merchant.' If such a coloniza- 
 tion project as he speaks of, is not yet deci- 
 dedly concluded, this young man may be sorry 
 that he has babbled here, what was by no means 
 necessary. Henry Fitz, optician, and astron- 
 omer," said he to himself, in a low voice, with 
 a stolen glance at Ormur, while he drew out a 
 miniatuure memorandum book, and took into his 
 hand a heavy gold pencil. 
 
 " You desire to get to the windward of this 
 gentleman's house, it seems," said Ormur, with 
 a smile, in reply to the glance of the young Eng- 
 lishman. 
 
 " I only wish to endeavor to give a sample of 
 my abilities, as a man of business, to make my 
 debut as a merchant. 
 
 " I wish you good luck, Mr. Walker," re- 
 joined the Northern marine officer," if you 
 know how to handle your instruments, and as I 
 have little doubt, understand your trade a little 
 better than our fellow voyager, you may easily 
 cast anchor before the intended colony, some 
 hours sooner than the other; and it requires no 
 more time than that to get the start of any one, 
 in order to plant your British flag any where." 
 
 " If this Mr. Closting is really so thoroughgo- 
 ing a fellow as his ' youthful pranks' would lead 
 one to expect, remarked Mr. Walker, " I do 
 not doubt but that, alter his long residence in 
 the country, he may be very well able to give 
 good counsel concerning colonization and the 
 like, especially as 1 hear that he is a geologist. 
 Perhaps he has even discovered mines ; and for 
 such a chance, 1 would infallibly seek to maka 
 his acquaintance, and "
 
 do 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " Take care of yourself, Mr. Walker," inter- 
 rupted Ormur. 
 
 " That he does not cheat me, do you mean ? 
 that he does not outwit me ? Oh ? there is no 
 dm?er of that. And besides, I do nut trade 
 alone, but have business friends in Rio — experi- 
 enced people !" 
 
 " That he will not cheat you, that you will 
 take care of, I have less anxiety about that 
 than — than in an entirely different respect." 
 
 " How so, Mr. Hinango? what do you mean 
 by that ?" 
 
 " Yon may have occasion to become acquaint- 
 ed with Madame Clostins;, his wife '." 
 
 " Is she, then, a dangerous person ?" 
 
 " Dangerous ! not at all ! she is dazzlingly 
 beautiful ! and has a pair of Brazilian eyes — per- 
 haps you have seen such eyes — their glances can 
 kindle flames " 
 
 " You jest, Mr. Hinanso ; but, jesting aside, 
 does the lady stand a little in the shade .' not 
 particularly liright ? you understand me .'" 
 
 " Oh, no ! by no means — so far as I know I 
 have onlv casually met her a few times — a year 
 and a half ago — and she struck me — not so much 
 by the undeniable beauty of her face and her 
 form, as by a certain expression of suffering — 
 and that sort of suffering women — ^beautiful, be- 
 sides, is dangerous, and often brought in dan- 
 ger, itself, bv meeting with a youth like you, Mr. 
 Walker!" 
 
 " There is a brig in sight, behind us. Captain!" 
 cried the man at the helm, through the open 
 skylight. 
 
 All eyes were now turned in the direction in- 
 dicated, and Captain Finno;reen appeared upon 
 the deck with his telescope in his hand. 
 
 " She has a better wind than we," said the 
 mate, " but we shall soon obtain the same 1 
 breeze." 
 
 Oi-mur, who had not observed the vessel at the 
 horizon, owing to his conversation with Ross- 
 briick and Mr. Walker, threw a seaman's glance 
 in the distance, and hurried to the cabin to get 
 his own telescope. In a second, he sprung up- 
 on deck again, and clambered to the mainmast 
 top, without even looking at any one. Deep si- 
 lence reigned on deck, and the distant approach- 
 ing rustle of an increasing westerly breeze made 
 itself heard in the loud murmur of the waves. 
 
 Dolores, standing beside Horatio, observed the 
 point indicated with a fixed gaze, and uncon- 
 sciously leaned upon the arm of the youth, as if 
 in reality she required support, while her lips 
 spoke nought of the fears which agitated her 
 breast. Horatio dared as little express his anxie- 
 ties and surmises, and both looked up to their 
 friend in the mainmast top, as if they longed to 
 receive the confirmation of their trembling sur- 
 mises by a hint on his part, little expect- 
 ing that their anxiety would prove to be un- 
 founded. 
 
 Capt. Finngreen gave the telescope to Mr. 
 Storhjelm, the first mate, without uttering a 
 word. Mr. Walker and Mr. Rossbriick each 
 used his own telescope, while Alvarez ap- 
 proached Dolores and Horatio, and said more 
 witli a look than both could have answered in 
 words. 
 
 Mr. Daily's attention, in his " between decks," 
 was attracted by the sudden silence, and he had 
 dime upon deck, likewise, without disturbing 
 
 his companion. Dr. Merhold, who wa.o so ab- 
 sorbed in the classification of his beetles, that he 
 neither saw nor heard any thing in the outward 
 world around him. 
 
 Old Achilles and his daughter, busied with 
 the preparations for dinner, remarked upon all 
 countenances the peculiar expression of anxious 
 expectation, but did not venture a syllable, and 
 looked with mute inquiry at each other. 
 
 After some ten minutes of portentous silence, 
 Ormur again found himself upon the quarter- 
 deck. He answered the glance of Dolores, 
 which had sought his, and she understood its 
 expression, which was not in the least calculated 
 to relieve her apprehensions. She leaned more 
 heavily upon Horatio's arm, and kept her eyes 
 fixed lipon Ormur, whom Capt. Finngreen, just 
 then, beckoned to follow him. The two seamen 
 now stood opposite each other by the helm, and, 
 as yet, had not spoken a word. 
 
 " It is the man-of-war, friend Hinango !" at 
 length said Capt. Finngreen. 
 
 " I am convinced of that," replied Ormur. 
 " She probably came out with the tide, yester- 
 day, and has now a good breeze." 
 
 " And which will soon bring her up with us." 
 
 " But she does not sail as we do," remarked 
 Hinango. 
 
 " She did not appear as if she could, there ic 
 the road." 
 
 " And now we shall certainly have a breeze, 
 also ; but the brig has a cutter that sails faster 
 than we ; we cannot outsail it," remarked Capt. 
 Finngreen. 
 
 " Impossible, captain ; that is not to be thought 
 of, and we shall soon see it." A long pause again 
 ensued. 
 
 " Captain Finngreen," at length continued 
 Ormur, " I have sometliing to propose to you." 
 
 " I am r-eady for it. Speak, friend Hinango — 
 speak as a seaman to a seaman. There stands 
 the South American lady ; she is of more value 
 than my ship and cargo. Speak Hinango." 
 
 " I understand your meaning, captain, in rela- 
 tion to Senora Dolores ; you meet me there half 
 way. But your ship and your cargo is lost, if 
 once the cutter comes alongside, and an otficer 
 steps upon your deck." 
 
 " I feel that. The brig would not chase us if 
 she did not, certainly, know that we had eluded 
 her visitation." 
 
 " Well then, captain, now for my question. 
 You know me as a naval officer, as a seaman 
 who has trod the gangway for fourteen years; 
 can and will you justify yourself to your owners, 
 for relinquishing to me, for some hours, the com- 
 mand of your brig .' and I will take it upon me 
 to get rid of the cutter, and if the breeze does 
 not leave us in the lurch, to bring her safely off." 
 
 " Friend Hinango," returned the captain, 
 " you know my position as captain. Among a 
 thousand cases, not one occurs in which a captain 
 should relinquish the command in danger. 
 Never ! never ! But i confess to you, honestly 
 and freely, I know no means of saving our- 
 selves ; none at all. Do you know of any ? 1 
 will take upon myself responsibility to my own- 
 ers, for the half of the Nordstjeruan belongs to 
 me, and there's an end of that. I accept your 
 offer ; I am your first mate from this moment ; 
 command the Nordstjernan. Mr. Storhjelm !" 
 cried he to the fii-st mate, " this is Lieutenant
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 91 
 
 Hinango, a Russian naval officer. Lieutenant 
 Hinango commands the Nordstjernan from this 
 moment, until we shall have lost sight of the 
 brig there. Inform the crew, and direct them to 
 obey every order with thorough punctuality." 
 
 Hinango now hurried to Dolores and Horatio, 
 who had from a distance observed eacli expres- 
 sion of the two seamen's faces, greatly strength- 
 ened by tile inconceivable calmness and self- 
 possession which they displayed. 
 
 The sense of the Swedish words which the 
 captain addressed to the mate, in a tolerably 
 loud tone, was sufficiently clear to all tlie pas- 
 sengers, under the existing circumstances, al- 
 though none of them understood Swedish. 
 
 Ormur spoke a few tranquillizing words to Do- 
 lores and Horatio, hastily pressed a hand of 
 each, as if to take a short farewell of them, 
 since, for the present, as a seaman upon his post, 
 he must be thoroughly apart by himself. He 
 now gave the orders necessary for profiting the 
 most by the favorable breeze, which became 
 stronger and stronger, although he would gladly 
 ' have laid the brig by the wind,' to await the 
 cutter's approach, if he could have been certain 
 that the Caza, would not have gained upon him. 
 
 Hardly, had he put the telescope again to his 
 eye, when he called out to the captain, " The 
 cutter is under sail !" 
 
 " 1 see it, likewise," an.swered the vice cap- 
 tain of the Nordstjernan ; " she comes after uS as 
 if she had steam aboard." 
 
 " The sooner here, the sooner decided," re- 
 marked Ormur. 
 
 The Nordstjernan was what would be called 
 " a heavy brig," of full three hundred and fifty 
 tons burthen, she had been in use but a few 
 years, and was built on the modern plan, sharp 
 at the bow and keel, and widest at about three- 
 fourths of her length, towards the bow, a con- 
 struction which, with corresponding rigging, 
 generally makes a good sailer. Hinango ob- 
 served, with a technical eye, the sailing of the 
 brig on the preceding day, and had carefully 
 marked her good properties. He now observed, 
 for a quarter of an hour, almost without turning 
 away his eyes, the sailing of the brig and 
 the cutter, which became the easier, as he could 
 nearly calculate the relative difference in their 
 sailing, in proportion as the latter left the ter- 
 mer behind her. 
 
 Besides a short interview between Captain 
 Finngreen and Mr. Walker, little was spoken. 
 
 The unfortunate Alvarez, approached these 
 two, and sought to express the disconsolateness, 
 which burdened him, since he did not yet 
 know but that the pursuit, on the part of the 
 man-of-war, was occasioned entirely by his 
 presence on board, and that he was the sole 
 cause of bringing the brig into .such danger. 
 The sincerity of his sorrow, and the grief which 
 he manifested, moved the good Captain Finn- 
 green to such a degree, that he proposed to Mr. 
 Walker, in English, to ask ' his sister' if she 
 would consent to inform the Unitarian, .for his 
 consolation, who she was, as no treachery was to 
 ■ be feared from him. 
 
 Mr. Walker, having no objection, spoke to 
 Dolores, led Alvarez to her, and whispered to 
 him the name of the poetess from whose Elegies, 
 lie had sung those verses on board the Caza. 
 A scene followed, which it would be difficult 
 
 to describe, since no language can express the 
 emotions and sensations experienced by the ar- 
 dent admirer of the South American poetess, 
 which are as indescribable as a symphony 
 and its effects. 
 
 " The surprise which followed this an- 
 nouncement was so great, that Alvarez cast an 
 indignant glance at Captain Finngreen, under 
 the impression that he had given a hint to the 
 young Englishman to indulge himself in ajoke, 
 and announce his sister as the authoress of the 
 Elegies, whose name neither he knew, nor any 
 one else out of the circle of her immediate 
 friends. It was only when Dolores, herself, as- 
 sured him that all was trje which had been 
 revealed to him, that he believed it, and then 
 he scarcely knew how to contain himself He 
 thanked Providence, with tearful eyes, that it 
 was permitted him to share the lot of the poet- 
 ess. He desired, as he expressed it, nothing 
 more than to be a seagull, to hover around, and 
 attend upon her from that time to her death, 
 and then to die upon her grave. Dolores ac- 
 knowledged the sincerity of such profound ven- 
 eration, but remarked that the gift of poetry, 
 the power of words, was no merit of hers, 
 which heightened her inward worth, but a 
 spiritual gift, which Providence had intrusted to 
 her, as the property of the nation. In the ensu- 
 ing conversation, Alvarez related that he had 
 been to Spain, to obtain all possible informa- 
 tion concerning the fate of an uncle, (his 
 mother's brother.) who had disappeared in a 
 mysterious manner, in his youth. 
 
 " What was the family name of your mother ?" 
 inquired Dolores. 
 
 " Garringos," returned the other. 
 
 Dolores appeared suddenly agitated by the 
 mention of this name, but exerted herself to con- 
 conceal its effects upon her mind. " Do you 
 know," said she, at length, " at about what time 
 your uncle disappeared in Spain?" 
 
 " Preciselv," was the reply, " on the 24th of 
 May, lSl-2, at Madrid." 
 
 Dolores was shocked, and sought, by a glance 
 at the approaching cutter, to conceal the work- 
 ing of her features, which the announcement of 
 this date appeared to have produced. 
 
 " The secret has gone to the grave with my 
 mother !" whispered she, partly to herself, 
 partly turning to Horatio, and was about to say 
 a word to Alvarez, just as Ormur approached 
 the group ; who, after continued consideration 
 of the hostile sail, had spoken in a low tone to 
 the captain and Mr. Walker. 
 
 The tranquillity which manifested itself in Or- 
 mur's countenance, was less remarkable than 
 conceivable to all, since something of his stir- 
 ring and eventful life, was known, which was 
 certainly calculated to develop in him such 
 firmness and moral strength in encountering 
 danger. On the other hand, the plan or means 
 of defence which he intended to employ for 
 their deliverance, were unknown, even to the 
 captain. The more each puzzled himself, and 
 turned the question over in his mind, what he 
 would do in a similar situation, the less able was 
 he to answer it. 
 
 The brig carried four guns, which were nicely 
 polished, and stood upon well painted carriages, 
 intended more for ornament and for salutes, 
 than for defence in cases similar to the present.
 
 92 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 *' I do not believe that I shall require the can- 
 non," remarked Ormur, to Captain Finngreen, 
 " but nevertheless, I wish them to be loaded, 
 and our friend Alvarez, here, will be just the 
 person to serve as gunner, and to load them. 
 After some words in Spanish to his comrade of 
 the Bataillon de la Blouse, the men required, 
 were placed in readiness to fulfil the gunner's 
 directions. 
 
 "As concerningyour Swedish flag," continued 
 Ormur, " I will not compromise it, but will 
 carry a flag which, to be sure, has never been 
 displayed on any fleet, but whose associates we 
 may very likely meet upon these waters." He 
 gave orders to have his trunk brought on deck, 
 and set himself to work, to lace together some 
 flags, out of the before mentioned strips of bunt- 
 ing. 
 
 Dolores went up to him, and appeared to ob- 
 Gerve, with especial attention, this fastening to- 
 gether of the different strips, to which, after a 
 w^hile, she lent a helping hand. 
 
 " The flag viU really be laced togeter, like a 
 lady's corset," said Mr. Ros.sbriick ; " te method 
 pleases me." 
 
 " And signals, without number, may be made 
 after tliis manner, by altering the strips," re- 
 marked Mr. Walker. " Probatjly you have, also, 
 a flag dictionary .'" said he to Ormur. 
 
 " One that is not yet published," he replied, 
 and looking at his watch, he added to the 
 captain : 
 
 " It is now one o'clock, captain ; we can go to 
 dinner in peace. It will be three or four hours 
 before the cutter will overhaul us, perhaps even 
 later, as we are getting more of th's breeze every 
 moment. We make five knots now, and I 
 reckon that the cutter makes seven. It is nearly 
 six miles from us, and, consequently, vi-ill re- 
 quire three or four hours to overhaul us, if we 
 held this breeze, which, it seems to me, is 
 increasing. The man-of-war brig has a better 
 
 wind than we, and rather hangs back ; sho 
 seems to sail six knots an hour at the most; 
 with the same wind, that would carry us eight, 
 and we shall, of course, gain two knots on her 
 every hour. We have, then, only to deal with 
 the cutter, and, God willing, I hope to be pre- 
 pared for her." 
 
 " She appears strongly manned," remarked 
 the captain, " and vfill carry a sufliciency of 
 bayonets." 
 
 " Is that a schooner or a fishing sloop, there 
 in the distance, lieutenant ?" inquired the man 
 at the helm. 
 
 Without replying, yet evidently not disagree- 
 ably surprised, Ormur left the composition of his 
 flag, and hurried again to the mainmast top, 
 while a conflict of contending emotions began in 
 the minds of those on board the Nordstjernan, 
 and none dared to inijuire vs-hat this new appear- 
 ance might be, or whether it drew near for their 
 benefit, or to hasten their destruction. 
 
 " That seems to be a little devil !" said Capt 
 Finngreen, partly to himself, with the telescope 
 at his eye. " By her rig, she is a Baltimore 
 schooner, but a little thing, and far, far distant ; 
 and the cutter will reach us first, at all events." 
 
 After some moments, Ormur descended to 
 the quarterdeck, and, with his telescope un- 
 der his arm, walked to and fro with hurried 
 steps, wrapped in reflection, and without look- 
 ing at any of those present. 
 
 He then again observed the now sail and th; 
 cutter, once more directed his telescope to 
 wards the schooner, reflected again, and thei 
 stepped hastily to the open ti'unk, beside vrhicl 
 lay the prepared flags. 
 
 " 0R.\ K SEMPKE," said he, half aloud, and 
 took up a green, red, and white flag, and handed 
 it to the first mate, with the order, " To the fore- 
 mast with this !" 
 
 " To the foremast !" repeated the other, sailor- 
 wise, and obeyed the command. 
 
 I
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 BOOK III 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ENCOUNTER AND DEFENCE. 
 
 Some hours had again passed away, and the 
 brig Nordstjernan, with her passengers, was 
 like a floating deaf and dumb institute, except 
 that it wanted the signs. 
 
 The breeze had freshened more and more, and 
 with the approach of the cutter, the eventful 
 moment drew nigh that must deliver Dolores 
 and Alvarez to the fury of ruthless party 
 ipirit, unless their good genius, in the person of 
 the northern ex-naval officer, should carry out 
 some master-stroke of presence of mind, the 
 plan of which he, like a true seaman, still kept 
 io himself. 
 
 The air was clear and pure, and the grey-green 
 waves spattered about the vessel, as if she floated 
 there, only to interrupt the uniformity of their 
 rustling motion, and to serve them as a toy, th.it 
 the eccentric dwellers of the earth had resigned 
 to their consideration and discretion, notwith- 
 standing they had already, in their ill humor, 
 tossed about and destroyed a thousand Similar 
 orittle playthings. 
 
 The same Cape pigeons which had, with de- 
 moted adherence, attended the vessel from Point 
 India, circled and flew in all directions about 
 the stern, and conspicuously dipped, from time 
 to time, in the wake, the foam of which appeared 
 to delight them, the longer the vessel by its 
 rapid course preserved its fleeting existence. 
 
 The man-of-war, " La Caza," had long since 
 hoisted her lee-sails, in order to follow the cut- 
 ter as speedily as possible, which, however, 
 gained a considerable advance, and seemed to 
 fly along more swiftly, the shorter the distance 
 became between the three vessels, whose sailing 
 propensities were gradually manifested, as the 
 skilful seaman had calculated and pointed out. 
 
 The lee-aails of the Nordstjernan lay, by Hi- 
 nango's order, ready upon deck ; but he defe'Ted 
 the order to hoist them. He awaited,with a sort of 
 painful impatience, the contact with the cutter, 
 and allowed the Caza an approach, which could 
 bring him into no particular danger, so soon as 
 he should succeed m despatching the cutter. 
 
 The Baltimore schooner, which had been ob- 
 served in the far distance, had evidently got 
 sight of the Nordstjernan, and seemed to hold a 
 course which was calculated to contact with 
 both, (the cutter and the Nordstjernan,) at a re- 
 
 mote point, since she could take no other course 
 if she did not wish to give up the Swedish brig. 
 
 Hinango, with the glass at his eye, watched 
 with increasing expectation, for the moment 
 that would enable him to recognise the schooa 
 er's flag, which fluttered at the mainmast. 
 
 The minutes became hours to all on board the 
 Nordstjernan ; the hours appeared as if they 
 would never terminate. 
 
 Uolnres, Horatio, and Alvarez, formed an in- 
 separable group, as if the danger would become 
 less, if they awaited it together, and this notion, 
 in a moral point of view, might be very well 
 founded. Hinango stepped up to them, from 
 time to time, to strengthen within them, by some 
 words, the faith in a possible deliverance, which 
 became fainter the nearer the cutter approached, 
 and Under surrounding circumstances and rela- 
 tions, might very well waver in hearts less pen- 
 etrated by a confidence in Divine Providence, 
 than were those of Dolores and her two com- 
 panions. 
 
 But the want of well founded sources of 
 consolation, increased in Hinango the oppres- 
 sion and uneasiness with which these endless 
 hours burdened him, since, after all his expres- 
 sions of confidence, he sav/ himself flung back 
 upon the deceitful element of *' hope," upon 
 which his designed plan of defence was built, and 
 only too closely resembled the sea, since it, ab- 
 stractly from his manly self-reliance, aflbrded 
 no guarantee for the success of any enterprise, 
 until the end itself was attained. 
 
 Robert appeared to regard, with a certain sto- 
 ical indiflerence, the approach of a crisis, 
 which, at all events, might endanger his life, if 
 an indiscreet bullet should be directed from the 
 gun of a Confederado towards liim, and pierce 
 some vital part of his body. Endeavoring to 
 await the decision of the matter, as comfortably 
 as possible, he had stretched himself out upon his 
 cloak on the (juarterdeck, smoking one cigar 
 after another, and, from time to time, looking 
 over the " Private Instructions" of his worldly 
 wise father, many passages of which especially 
 pleased him, at least he could not suppress his 
 entire assent, at times, by a covert smile, and a 
 half loud " Very good ; very good, indeed!" 
 
 IVIr. William Rossbriick sat in the cabin, ab- 
 sorbed in his colonial speculation, "which was 
 to put some millions in circulation," not a little 
 provoked at being placed, by a fatal chance, 
 with passengers who ought not to have shipped
 
 94 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 on board the same vessel with respectable peo- 
 ple, since their suspicious position excluded 
 them, as well from the society ol'business people, 
 of any consideration, as from the higher circles 
 of the social world, who did not trouble them- 
 selves with similar sacrifices for patriotism, and 
 the like " unwarantable phantasiw^." 
 
 Dr. Merbold, had at length feciarked some- 
 thino; wrong, and asked the captain what the 
 singular .silence of the passengers signified, and 
 the thoiightfnl mien with which they had so 
 long observed the " little fishing boat," an,d the 
 vessel in the distance." When he learned that 
 this cutter would probably institute another 
 visitation on boai'd, and inquire after the refugee 
 whose life they sought to save since they had 
 drawn him out of the water, the savant lost his 
 phlegmatic inditference. 
 
 " How could you have undertaken, captain, to 
 keep a man on board who was reclaimed by the 
 police, or even by the olBcers of justice 1 You 
 suspected, or knew, then, without doubt, that the 
 man would be pursued .' you knew it before the 
 shallop returned back to the city, and you kept 
 him on board ? Hark you, captain ! this is not 
 only unpardonable, but it is contrary to police 
 regulations, and is treasonable, besides, and if I 
 had suspected that you were capable of doing 
 that, of taking demagogues, or patriots, or the 
 like, on board, and keeping them on board, 
 I certainly would not have gone to sea witli 
 you. I will write a letter to the Prussian consul 
 at Buenos Ayres, with my own hand, for 
 having sent me in such a vessel, with such a 
 captain. And 1 will do it on the spot ! The 
 boat tliat is coming there, will take away the 
 fool, the demagogue — good ! I will then em- 
 brace the opportunity, and send back a letter 
 to the Prussian consul in Buenos Ayres, and 
 give him a piece of my mind. .U is enough to 
 craze one," he muttered to himself, while he 
 crept down to his berth : " Has the captain gone 
 cra/.y under the line? that he undertakes in the 
 face of day, to act so in opposition to the police ? 
 to compromise all of us, as if we had even as- 
 sisted in taking a suspicious fellow to sea, who 
 has meddled with politics .'" 
 
 The two captains of the Nordstjernan ob- 
 served the cutter and the schooner with equal 
 attention. The first had gradually approached 
 so near, that the persons which she carried, 
 were distinguishable. 
 
 Two officers appeared in the stern, and near 
 them a man in a civil dress, besides a crew of 
 twelve men. 
 
 The sending of the cutter, in itself, must, in 
 any case, be regarded only as a provisory inti- 
 mation that the Caza followed behind, and had 
 a word to say to the Nordstjernan, since the cut- 
 ter, unattended liy the Caza, would hardly be in 
 a condition to take the Swedish brig by force, 
 as it, like many European vessels upon the 
 Southern Atlantic Ocean, carried, besides sev- 
 eral cannon, a well filled arrn-chest, and an 
 abundance of ammunition. 
 
 It would certainly have been possible to pre- 
 vent the stepping of even a single man from the 
 cutter upon the deck, considering the difficulty 
 of climbing up from a small craft on board of a 
 large vessel, well supplied with weapons of all 
 sorts. Rut such a method of escape did not en- 
 ter into Uiuango's plan, who would not put the 
 
 peaceful crew of the Nordstjernan to such a testi 
 which, if it failed, would bring the most fearful 
 punishment upon them. 
 
 Capt. Finngrecn had, long since, perceived 
 that Hinango had not prepared for such a de- 
 fence, without, on the other hand, having dis- 
 covered what was his particular design — what 
 means he intended to adopt for the deliverance 
 of the Nordstjernan. After all that he had 
 learned, however, of the life and character of 
 his countryman, (whose fate and misfortunes 
 lived in the mouths and in the hearts of his peo- 
 ple,) there arose within him an almost un- 
 bounded reliance upon him, a.s a tnan and as a 
 seaman ; and he looked forward with confidence, 
 although not without painful expectation and 
 disquiet, to the decisive moment. 
 
 Hinango took the best axe from the carpenter'3 
 chest, examined the edge, and finding it in suf- 
 ficiently good order, laid it upon the windward 
 side of the quarterdeck, and again observed the 
 schooner with his telescope. Hardly had he 
 caught sight of it, than he exclaimed, in joyful 
 tones, " It is the Mazzini ! Look, captain ! 
 the tlag is green and yellow, without the Brazil- 
 ian emblem of the solar system. It is the revof 
 lutionary flag of Rio Grande, and on the foremast 
 is the flag of 'La Giovine Italia' — green, vei 
 and white." 
 
 " The same which we carry — I recognised^' 
 immediately, when you unfolded it. It is desig 
 nated upon a flag chart as the Italian nationj, 
 flag ; but, alas ! it is, as yet, borne by no flee)? 
 remarked Capt. Finngreen. 
 
 " Not at this time ; but I assure you, captain, 
 that there are many Italian naval officers who 
 would gladly carry it, and maintain it with their 
 lives." 
 
 " I have no doubt of it, and in the future they 
 will verify its power." 
 
 Hinango now brought forward two flags, which 
 he had previously arranged, and threw one to the 
 mate, with the order, " Take down the flag from 
 the foremast, and put this in its place ; and 
 this," throwing the other flag to him, " on the 
 mainmast." 
 
 " The Mazzini has answered the Italian flag," 
 and I know now where I am ; perhaps he already 
 suspects who we are," remai'ked Hinango. " We 
 will, however, make him understand it more 
 plainly." 
 
 " Bravo !" cried Capt. Finn^een, noticing the 
 flag at the foremast ; " that is the flag of our 
 Scandinavian Union — blue, white, and yellow— 
 with the polar stai- in the blue field. I know it 
 from prohibited books ; and if a spy were now to 
 see my Nordstjernan, I should never dare to go 
 back through the sound again." 
 
 " I believe you, indeed, captain ; but you have 
 relinquished to me, for the present, the command 
 of the Nordstjernan, that it may not be taken 
 back as a prize to Buenos Ayres ; and as the 
 proverb says, * despair has no law.' If we suc- 
 ceed in despatching the cutter, it will not be easy 
 to prove that you have carried the Scandinavian 
 flag, here in the mouth of the river La Plata." 
 
 The mate, Storhjelm, delivered to Hinango 
 the flag of " La Giovine Italia," cast a glance 
 upon the Scandinavian flag, and observed, " The 
 Danes and Norwegians would miss their red 
 from the flag above tliere." 
 
 " They are the colors from the three crosses of
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 95 
 
 the ancient flags of our countries ," saiJ Hinango ; 
 " the Swedisli yellow, the Norwegian blue, and 
 the Danish wliite, with the polar star, the sym- 
 bol of the future unity of Scandinavia. Blood 
 red lias, however, too often stained the history of 
 our monarchies, and our race has been stirred up 
 to tight against itself by tlie crimes of a tyrant, 
 like Clu'istian tlie Second. May the remem- 
 brance tliereof vanish from the hearts of the 
 people, and the symbolic colors of the three 
 crosses, likewise the colors of our Nortliern 
 starry heavens, elevate our spirits to faith in the 
 future destiny of nations." 
 
 Dolores, Horatio, Alvarez, and Robert Walker, 
 had stepped up to the two captains, just as tlie 
 name, iVIazzini, was mentioned, and seemed 
 now, more than ever, solicitous about the issue 
 of the eventful encounter 
 
 " It is a pity that the schooner was not a sin- 
 gle mile nearer to us," said Robert Walker ; " it 
 will be impossible for her to reach us before the 
 cutter." 
 
 " Certainly, she cannot," replied Hinango ; 
 " but she will be as little able to attack the cut- 
 ter before she overhauls us." 
 
 " I see that well ! Her commander is said to 
 be an Italian bandit," continued Robert Walker, 
 with an ironical smile ; " he mmst be a famous 
 fellow." 
 
 " Certainly ! the Austrian gazettes call all 
 the Italian patriots banditti, no matter how high 
 their social position. Barigaldi, who commands 
 this schooner, is, to be sure, an Italian — con- 
 demned to death as a rebel — but he is a gentle- 
 man, who formerly moved in the great world as 
 much as any courtier of Modena or Tuscany," 
 replied Hinango. 
 
 Dolores attentively considered the flag at the 
 mainmast. It consisted of three dark blue 
 stripes, forming a surface — in the middle of 
 which was a golden yellow star, surrounded by 
 an oval liglit blue halo, which nearly filled the 
 breadth of the centra] stripe.* 
 
 Hinango now broke off from his conversation 
 with Robert Walker, and looked with an unde- 
 niable expression of inward emotion upon Do- 
 lores, and tlien upward upon the flag. 
 
 " May I ask, or guess," said Dolores, inter- 
 rupting the deathlike silence of the moment^ 
 " may I guess what sort of flag this is — what 
 this symbol signifies .'" 
 
 " You suspect," said Hinango, looking with 
 sympathy in the eyes of Dolores, and seeing into 
 hor heart. 
 
 " It is the flag of Humanity ; the golden star 
 is the dawning star of the religion of the future, 
 wliich sends down its rays, tj-irough the misty 
 circle of the materialism of our century, into tlie 
 bleeding human heart;" sighed she, again rais- 
 ing her tear-dimmed gaze to tlie significant sym- 
 Dol of a despised faith. 
 
 " It is the flajj of Humanity," said Hinango ; 
 * you are not mistaken ; and I hope that all of 
 as do not err, when we believe in a resurrection 
 of the human race out of this night of infidelity, 
 of indifi'erence, of sectarian hatred, and of the 
 fanaticism of forms without religion. The star 
 
 * The above symbol, with the addition of others, was 
 later — in 1341 — engraved upon a seal ring, which the 
 committee of "La Gio vine Italia" in London, sent to their 
 Bpii'itual associate, Dc Lamenais, in his prison, in Taris. 
 
 of the future, whose rays illuminate our hearts 
 with foreboding faith, will arise in the firma- 
 ment of the path of the nations, and the religion 
 of Jesus will shine forth as a higher idea than 
 the church has heretofore recognised in it — a 
 higher idea tlian the oriental dualism — the dis- 
 pute between tlie evil and the good. Mankind 
 will be elevated by the knowledge of the unity 
 of all strength, and Satan will no more give 
 men free leave to sin on his account, and at his 
 instigation. The star of humanity will go be- 
 fore, to light the way of progress to mankind." 
 
 Dolores followed this inspired efi'usion with 
 her whole soul, and reached her hand to her 
 friend and champion, with a wordless glance 
 
 "The cutter comes near !" said Hinango ; " we 
 shall now see whether our flag of humanity floats 
 here under God's protection. Retire to your 
 cabin, and do not tremble ; and all of you, gen- 
 tlemen, will leave the quarterdeck for a short 
 time." With these words, he led Dolores to the 
 cabin stairs, and all followed him, and went 
 below. 
 
 Hinango now ordered the first mate to summon 
 " all hands on deck !" and immediately the whole 
 crew stood, expectantly, by the mainmast. 
 
 " Countrymen ! Scandinavians !" said he to 
 them ; " a sliort sea manoeuvre is about to take 
 place, under the Scandinavian flag. Upon the 
 punctuality with which you execute my orders, 
 depend our own lives, and the lives entrusted to 
 the care of your brave captain. Hear, then, and 
 mark wliat I say. The cutter will give a signal 
 that we should ' lay by the wind.' 1 will give, 
 through the trumpet, the necessary orders — you 
 must fulfil them ; but do not let go of the tacks 
 and sheets. Remain at your posts, and at the 
 moment when I command, witliout the trumpet, 
 ' brace full !' bring the foremast yard in the di- 
 rection in which it now stands, and fill the 
 mainsail, likewise. Have you understood me ?" 
 
 " We understand ! we understand !" cried all. 
 with one voice. 
 
 " Captain," said the seaman, now turning tc 
 Capt. Finngreen, " cut ofl'a rope there, and keep 
 one end of it in your hand when you tlirow it to 
 the cutter, at my command through tlie trumpet : 
 and let the rope go entirely, when I give the 
 order : * Lat go for !' " 
 
 " I understand you," replied Capt. Finngreen, 
 and just then a round of musketry was fired from 
 the cutter, fo.- want of a cannon. 
 
 The cutter was now near, and had lowered 
 one sail, as she steered round the after part of the 
 brig, to come under her lee. Hinango hastily 
 ordered the " boom over to the windward," 
 which the commander of the cutter probably 
 took as a civility, as if done to enable him to ap 
 proacli nearer, and to come alongside more con- 
 veniently, without endangering his masts. 
 
 " Brace back the head yards ! throw out a 
 rope !" cried Hinango, through the trumpet ; 
 then, throwing it aside, he seized the axe, and 
 stationed himself on the windward of the boom- 
 sheet, directing his eye towards the cutter's 
 masts. Availing himself, with calculation, of the 
 moment when the masts of the cutter passed the 
 bulwark, he now cut loose the sheet. The co- 
 Icssal boom, loaded with sails, and driven by tba 
 wind, obeyed the laws of gravity, and slung over 
 to the leeward, breaking botli tfie cutter's inasfa 
 like Cologne pipe stems, which, together viitii
 
 96 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 their sails and rigging, plunged, with a crash, 
 into the waves. 
 
 " Lat go for !" (let go !) he now cried to the 
 captain, v.'ho let go the vope, which a sailor in 
 the cutter had already seized to fasten on to the 
 brig. 
 
 " Brace full !" thundered he to the sailors, 
 who punctually carried out the required order. 
 
 " Keep on your conrse !" he said, in a low 
 voice, to the man at the helm, when all the 
 orders were complied with. He now looked, for 
 the first time, upon the dismasted cutter, in 
 which the confusion appeared so great tliat no 
 one seemed to tliink of sending a bullet at the 
 commander of the brig. 
 
 The whole affair was the work of a moment, 
 and the rapidity of its execution allowed no man 
 to come to his recollection, or to reflect upon 
 what was likely to happen, until the whole 
 Was executed, and the cutter dismasted. Sur- 
 prised to the utmost, officers and crew now gazed 
 Upon each other, and then looked at Hiuango, 
 unable to find words to express their astonisl)- 
 meat. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 COURSE AND DISTANCE. 
 
 " We are saved !" Hinango exclaimed, and 
 then hastened to convey to the South American 
 lady the assurance of her safety, and returned 
 to the deck with her, accompanied by all the 
 cabin jjassengers. 
 
 The expression of each countenance offered, 
 for the moment, an indescribably rich field for 
 observation, in case some psychologist on board, 
 had found time and leisure to consider them. 
 
 All could now be convinced of a deliverance, 
 which, notwithstanding the confidence in Hi- 
 nango, no one had, until now, thought probable, 
 since the dinger had become so imminent. All 
 could now believe in their personal security, af- 
 ter tlieir minds had been racked for nearly five 
 hours, by a painful uncertainty, which must 
 have paralyzed all their powers. 
 
 This sudden transition, from fear and anxiety 
 to tranquillity and joy, wrought in many minds a 
 similar convulsion, as did the first moment of 
 the man-of-war, like a s(>eck in the horizon. 
 
 " There is my letter, captain !" cried the Ger- 
 man savant, from his hole, while he clambered 
 Up with effort, assisted by Mr. Daily, and hold- 
 ing in his hand a sealed envelope. " There is 
 my letter, the shallop will now soon be here." 
 
 " I am very sorry," replied Captain Finngreen, 
 that the opportunity has escaped you of sending 
 your report to Buenos Ayres 1 There lies the 
 cutter, and cannot, with the beat intentions, take 
 charge of your despatches." 
 
 " How so : Not take charge of them .' Will 
 she, then, no! t.ike charge of the fellow — the po- 
 litical fanatic — the fool there ? 
 
 " Doctor !'' interrupted Hinango, spare tlie 
 titles with which your German royally privi- 
 leged erudition insults the patriots of all na- 
 tions, especially of your own. You are here, 
 ou board of the Nordstjernan. Doctor, keep 
 
 within the limits of your own narrow science, 
 and remain within your beetle world. Insult 
 no one with your servility. Consider that this 
 vessel carries human beings, who are morally 
 and mentally as far above the horizon of your 
 learned perceptions, as men are above beetles. 
 Greet your Prussian consul in Buenos Ayres, 
 and at Rio, and every servant of the king of 
 Prussia, who, under the title of a savant, re- 
 ceives a report from you." 
 
 " Do not fly in o passion with a man who is, in 
 the highest degree, deserving of our comparison, 
 for his deadne.ss and insensibility to the cause of 
 the people," said Dolores, interrupting the ve- 
 hement speech of Hinango, who, for the first 
 time since he had been on board, allowed an 
 ebullition of anger to appear. 
 
 " Forgive me, iVIiss Walker !" he replied, 
 while he left the insect man, and walked aside 
 with Dolores," excuse this weakness, this bit- 
 terness, towards a man who can as little insult 
 either you or me, as he can understand us, in 
 case he should ever learn our position. My 
 anger, however, does not extend to him alone, 
 but to the whole class of servile literati, be they 
 entomologists, or philologists, or theologists, 
 who, for a breakfast from some creature of the 
 court, not to mention a professorship, an order, 
 or a pension, would betray and sell their own 
 nation, and all the nations of the earth, if it 
 were possible, and, in fact, be proud of such an 
 action." 
 
 " I believe I know the man next to the ofEcer 
 in the stern of the cutter," said Horatio, who, 
 using Hinango's telescope, had, until now, with 
 the captain and Robert Walker, been viewing 
 the cutter. " I must be very much mistaken, 
 or it is the private teacher of languages, Pere- 
 zoso." 
 
 " That is very possible, and even probable," 
 interrupted Robert Walker, " for the same per- 
 son shewed himself very zealous in a little no- 
 torious coffee-house, on the evening beforh our 
 departure, with respect to the discovery of the 
 author of certain Elegies, as Seiior Testa in- 
 formed me, who observed him there." 
 
 Dolores and Hinango went up to their two 
 companions, to give their attention likewise to 
 the cutter ; surprised by his last words, she in- 
 quired of young Walker : 
 
 " You appeiu: to have known more respecting 
 our danger than you have imparted to me." 
 
 " I learned from Seiior Testa, that they were 
 upon the point of discovering your incognito as 
 a poetess, and that a certain Perezoso, whose 
 name he learned in this famous colTee-house, 
 was much to be feared." 
 
 " The wretch !" exclaimed Dolores ; " here 13 
 another man who has the reputation of great 
 learning, who understands a half dozen lan- 
 guages, and lowers himself to become a spy, that 
 he may obtain some office under government." 
 " It's the old story," said Hinango, laughing, 
 "but there he floats now, thank God! andean 
 do us no more harm for the present." 
 
 Until his colleagues in Rio de Janeiro are 
 informed," sighed Dolores again ; " then, where- 
 ever I may hereafter find an asylum, the ven- 
 geance of despotism will follow me, though I 
 went to the antipodes. I am prepared for any 
 future fate." 
 " Singular ! but perhaps easy to be explained,"
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 97 
 
 intemijjted Hinango, "that, in this moment 
 of deliverance, such gloomy despondency should 
 come over you." 
 
 " How seldom are we able to account for even 
 the lightest of our internal emotions," replied 
 Dolores; " it is not fear that oppresses me, but 
 rather a presentiment that I am only saved to 
 encounter greater dangers." 
 
 " It is so with me, also," aSirm*i Hinango ; 
 " but with the consciousness of our calling, our 
 mission, we are pervaded by a divine strength 
 to brave danger, to bear our lot. A life like 
 ours is good, when it is ended." 
 
 Dolores replied with a glance at the flag of 
 " Humanity," and remained silent. 
 
 The Mazzini altered her course the moment 
 when the masts of the cutter were shivered, and 
 steered directly for the latter, while the Caza 
 had nearly vanished behind the horizon, with 
 all her canvass given to the wind, to support 
 the cutter, and to take her, together with her 
 crew, on board. 
 
 For the understanding of the course and dis- 
 tance of the three sails, the following nautical 
 explanation may be requisite. 
 
 The Caza might have been about five miles 
 Irora the object of pursuit, when she was per- 
 ceived by Hinttngo, and sent out the cutter. Al- 
 though she had a better wind than the Nord- 
 stjernan, her average progress might be taken at 
 about six miles an hour, while the latter sailed 
 about seven, and the cutter eight. The Nord- 
 stjernan had then made thirty-five miles in 
 about five hours, the cutter forty, and reached 
 the Swedish brig, with the addition of the five 
 miles' variation in the distance, while the Caza 
 had made thirty miles, and, of course, remained 
 ten miles behind the cutter. 
 
 All the endeavors of the Caza to save the cut- 
 ter would, of course, be nautically impossible, 
 as the Mazzini, at the time of this catastrophe, 
 was at the utmost three miles from the place of 
 encounter, where the cutter still lay, endeavor- 
 ing to put up jury masts, in which, however, 
 from want of sufficient materials, she was not 
 likely to succeed. 
 
 The Mazzini had constantly, in her diminished 
 course, a half wind, and might reach the cutter 
 in twenty minutes — a space of time which, with 
 reference to the arrival of the Caza, was not to 
 be taken into consideration. 
 
 Hinango observed the movements of the Maz- 
 zini with redoubled interest, as an associate 
 under the before mentioned flag, and, also, be- 
 "ause he wished to enter into communication 
 with the commander of the schooner, whom he 
 had not met when he was at Monte Video. 
 
 Although since the fortunate issue of the en- 
 counter with the cutter, he had ceased to con- 
 sider himself in command of the Nordstjcrnan, 
 he intimated to Capt. Finngreen that he should 
 prefer " laying the brig under the wind," to 
 await the result of the meeting between the two 
 vessels, of which one only carried sails. Capt. 
 Finngreen was entirely willing to comply with 
 this request, and the Nordstjernan now lingered 
 " under the wind," some two miles distant from 
 the hull of the cutter, just as the Mazzini dis- 
 charged a shot — expecting, as a reply, the signal 
 of a " surrender at discretion." 
 
 Before, however, we consider more nearly the 
 encounter of the cutter and the Mazzini, we must 
 
 13 
 
 seek the requisite explanation of the despatcn of 
 the Caza from Buenos Ayres, and of the part oc- 
 cupied bv the Mazzini in the history of our time 
 
 ».****^*#**— 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE EXPEDITION' 
 
 The Police Commissary, Borrachezo, hurried 
 from the Palace of Justice, to conduct Perezoso 
 to the bureau of the statesman who was entrusted 
 with the office of Minister of the Interior. 
 
 The importance of tlie affair required a private 
 audience, and Perezoso's offers and stipulations 
 for the apprehension of the person to whose head 
 the oft-mentioned price was affixed, were well 
 received, and immediately accepted, without his 
 having in the least allowed it to be perceived in 
 what direction he would institute his investiga- 
 tions. 
 
 His conditions and stipulations were confirmed 
 in writing, and he, thereupon, required an au- 
 thorization to have a man-of-war at his disposi- 
 tion, and, if possible, the brig La Caza, in case 
 there should be any necessity for him to make an 
 excursion upon the river La Plata. The zealous 
 spy, of course, desired to be sent as a personified 
 despatch, whose contents the naval officer (as is 
 often the case) should first learn when he was on 
 board, and under sail — a wise precaution, for he 
 still feared that he might be anticipated in this 
 important and enticing affair. 
 
 This expedition upon the river La Plata had, 
 nevertheless, its difficulties, as it required a con- 
 ference of the Minister of the Interior with the 
 Minister of the Marine Department, which 
 could not be so suddenly and hastily arranged, as 
 the speculative office hunter desired, who was 
 placed in a very critical position by the unavoid- 
 able delay of his voyage. 
 
 Earnestly as he endeavored to induce his pro- 
 tector, Borrachezo, to use all possible haste, he 
 felt himself exposed to the danger of directing 
 his attention, by a single inconsiderate intima- 
 tion, to the Swedish brig, and hazarding his 
 secret. Perezoso now found himself in the 
 critical position of every traitor and intriguer, 
 who can only conduct his secret business with 
 his equals, and know, beforehand, that the men 
 with whom he operates are as cunning and un- 
 principled as himself, and would not hesitate, for 
 a moment, to outwit him, and turn his secret ta 
 their own advantage. 
 
 The high functionaries, who had to pass upon, 
 this matter, considered it, from their own par- 
 ticular point of view, as a business transaction of 
 the government, and very naturally desired a 
 moral (or, rather, an immoral) guarantee in re- 
 gard to the person who so zealously oflered 
 " to serve the state." 
 
 Those of them who had acted the spy on former 
 occasions, to arrive at their present post3,just as 
 zealously as Perezoso now did, as office holders 
 inwardly despised and detested the " traitor," 
 while, at the same time, they were willing to 
 make use of the " treachery" for the mainte- 
 nance of the so called public order, for the secu- 
 rity of the state, or for their own security and 
 the security of Kosas,
 
 98 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Under such circumstances, four and twentj- 
 tours elapsed before Perezoso had obtained his 
 full powers, and was handed over to the com- 
 mander of the Caza, as Envoy Extraordinary 
 for no Court, to be sure, but temporarily, upon 
 the La Plata river, as Cfiargi d'affaires de pour- 
 suite et d'arrestation, &c., &c. 
 
 Capt. Tumble received his guest and passen- 
 ger on board with all respect, as he was in duty 
 bound, by the high order of the Minister of the 
 Marine Department, which obliged him to search 
 strictly every vessel that the envoy should point 
 out to him. 
 
 Perezoso did not disclose to him upon which 
 vessel his attention was directed, until the Caza 
 was under sail, to go down the river. And, even 
 then, his prudence kept him silent as to what 
 person he was in pursuit of, and what was the 
 nation, sex, and standing of the individual. 
 
 Capt. Tumble was the more vexed at this mys- 
 terious reserve, as he had honored the Swedish 
 brig with all the attention which the strictest 
 official duty could require of him. 
 
 He ran over the passenger list with Senor 
 Codo, which the latter had handed over to him, 
 and after long consultation and fruitless exami- 
 nation, the suspicion of " revolutionary poetry," 
 fell as well upon Robert Walker as upon his 
 sister ; upon William Rossbriick and Habakkuk 
 Daily, and finally upon Dr. Merbold, who, as 
 a " literary gentleman," had protested against 
 that title, and was, therefore, the most suspicious 
 person in the eyes of the commander of the 
 Caza ; so much so, that he resolved, beforehand, 
 to bring him on board as a prisoner, on his own 
 responsibility, let the Envoy Extraordinary ap- 
 prehend whom he would. 
 
 The man-of-war, under the varying contra- 
 rieties of the wind, and favored by the current, 
 went forward as fast as it well could, for the 
 Caza had by no means thereputation of a " fast 
 sailer," but rather served as a guardship to an- 
 chor at some appointed station. Many other 
 vessels of the Rosas navy would have done 
 better service in this case, but Perezoso had 
 more " reference" to the character of the com- 
 mander and officers, with whom he had already 
 become acquainted, than to the deficiencies of 
 the vessel, (unknown to him,) while from his 
 past intercourse with Capt. Tumble and Senor 
 Codo, he regarded them as furious Confederados. 
 
 As soon as the Caza had the Swedish brig in 
 sight, which appeared as if fettered by flawing 
 wmds, the cutter was lowered and despatched, 
 under Senor Codo's command. One midship- 
 man and Senor Perezoso took their places like- 
 wise in her stern, and twelve of the strongest 
 and most robust men of the crew, and among, 
 them Pat Genthboy, all well armed, served at 
 the same time as mai'ines and as sailors. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HISTORICAL RETROSPECT. 
 
 The appearance of the Mazzini, which was 
 now approaching the cutter, was no phantom 
 of the imaginatioa, brought dowu from the 
 
 clouds and fixed on the La Plata river, still les* 
 was it a " flying Italian," (step-brother to the 
 " Flying Dutchman,") but "a real, personal ves- 
 sel," (as Pat Gentleboy appropriately expressed 
 himself,) and as such it had, like other vessels, 
 its origin and history, which, however, are so 
 intimately connected with the historical events 
 of South America, that we cannot recount the 
 one without taking a retrospect of the other. 
 
 All the political movements of South Ame- 
 rica, as of the whole transatlantic " New World," 
 are the fruits of the spirit which was deve- 
 loped in Europe. As yet, the New World has 
 broached no new idea — no idea, the origin of 
 which cannot be traced to the spiritual develop- 
 ment of some one or other European nation. 
 Many ideas of European intellect have, how- 
 ever, been realized (and either ennobled, or dis- 
 figured and degraded) in the New World, whose 
 political soil, less encumbered by the unfruitful 
 stoneheaps of ancient monarchy, offers a cer- 
 tain youthful vigor of nature, for the reception 
 of spiritual seed, accelerating, as it were, with 
 miraculous rapidity, the blossoming of a trans- 
 planted idea. 
 
 The foundation of the United States of North 
 America (one of the most exalted phenomena in 
 the history of mankind) is not the work of 
 transatlantic originality, but the consequence 
 and fruit of European intellect, which, as it were, 
 in its strivings for development, flew across the 
 ocean, to seek an asylum in the New World ; and 
 caused an explosion of strength there, which, in 
 a measure, scattered in air the system of dominion 
 " by the grace of God." 
 
 The awakened spirit of the age conquered the 
 sooner in the New World, although, after a hard 
 struggle ; while the same spirit, at the same time, 
 broke its fetters in Europe, contending for 
 the cause of humanity, under less favorable cir- 
 cumstances, since it could hardly stir for the 
 crowns and thrones which obstructed its pro- 
 gress. 
 
 The freedom of nations is never developed 
 from external material conditions ; it is no fruit 
 of materialism, and where it proceeds entirely 
 from material interests, it is not founded in spirit 
 and in truth, but is a falsification of the idea, 
 the coinage of a " constitutional convention," by 
 the prevailing selfishness to promote its own 
 speculations, while the principle of freedom is 
 set aside. 
 
 Freedom, as the means of higher develop- 
 ments, is of a spiritual nature, and is only called 
 forth by the spiritual life and moral strength of a 
 nation. It is developed as an idea, and its vital 
 energies are distributed equally through the seve- 
 ral classes of the people, in like manner as na- 
 ture's forces are distributed through the roots, 
 trunk, and branches of a tree, to the outermost 
 leaves. 
 
 But the distribution of the spiritual, vital 
 energy of the idea of freedom, from the depths of 
 inward life, (through which the spirit of God is 
 manifested in the human mind,) is not the work 
 of a few springs, like the branches of a tree, but 
 of more or less extended periods of transition, 
 of the long and desperate struggle of centuries, 
 to overcome matter. 
 
 The history of South America shows us, as it 
 were, the history of the European nations in 
 a •< milage," areflected image of the reality across
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 09 
 
 Hie ocean horizon. The Spanish and Portu- 
 guese provinces, (under which title they were 
 inscribed as possessions in the archives of the 
 kingdoms of the Old World,) first arose in the 
 consciousness of their sacred rights, in conse- 
 quence of the world-thrilling events of Europe, 
 when the sacred inscription — fraternity, equal- 
 ity — was stamped with blood, in the French lan- 
 guage, upon the banner of mankind. They then 
 aroused, with that energy of self-consciousness 
 which the awakened spirit brought with it, and 
 which found, in the New World, the same ele- 
 ments to contend against, the same rubbish of 
 decaying systems to remove out of the way, the 
 saine roots of antiquated prejudices to eradicate. 
 
 At the epoch of this relation. South America 
 represented the three difi'erent conditions which 
 are revealed in the history of mankind in all 
 parts of the world. " Absolute monarchy," the 
 arbitrary rule of a single individual, under the 
 hypocritical banner of a republic, in Bnenos 
 Ayres and Paraguay; a "constitutional monarchy" 
 in Brazil, with all its contradictions of throne- 
 sovereignty and the people's rights, which wants 
 nothing but the sanction of sound reason, which 
 will never justify the prerogative of birth before 
 the laws of nature. In the other states, the 
 " republic," organized, more or less, after the pat- 
 tern of the United States of North America — 
 not, however, regarding freedom as the end — 
 but, (as for example, the republic of La Banda 
 Oriental, and in Rio Grande,) striving, on the 
 basis of freedom, to promote the dissemination 
 and development of a higher idea, to further the 
 progress of true civilization. As the war of inde- 
 pendence of the Spanish South American pro- 
 vinces, in the commencement of our century, 
 was a consequence of events in Kurope, which 
 put in doubt the right to the throne " by the 
 grace of God," we there behold, in the various 
 states and provinces, up to the present time, the 
 direct and indirect operations of European pro- 
 gress towards the deliverance of mankind. 
 
 The constitutional monarchy in Brazil was, 
 for yeai's, up to the period of our relation, un- 
 dermined, as it were, by this spirit of progress. 
 
 The "political cholera" (as many diploma- 
 tists are wont to call this spirit of the age, 
 whose nature, like that of the Asiatic cholera, 
 still remains a riddle ; concerning whose exten- 
 sion, whether contagious, or non-contagious, the 
 learned are still engaged in discussion) had pene- 
 trated into Brazil. This " poisonous disorder," 
 which causes the strength of armies to waver, 
 and plants " a moth in the ermine mantle of le- 
 gitimacy," began to spread in Brazil, to the ter- 
 ror and dismay of the royalists, who, in all the 
 revolutionary insurrections of Pernambuco, Rio 
 Grande, Bahia, Para, and later in the Provinces 
 of Minas Geraes, and St, Paolo, saw nothing but 
 the " political cholera," flown over from Europe, 
 the dissemination of which, however, no quar- 
 antine was able to restrain. 
 
 The province of Rio Grande has stood out, 
 for years in open resistance to the claims of the 
 Brazilian monarchy. The boundary connexion 
 with the Banda Oriental, as well as the rela- 
 tionship of the population, through their Span- 
 ish, Itiilian, and Portuguese extraction ; a lively 
 spiritual intercourse with those countries of Eu- 
 rope, which continually contend for the spirit of 
 freedom \ the moral influence of many families, 
 
 and isolated men, who, pursued by despoh'sm, 
 have sought an asylum in the New World : all 
 these circumstances promote in Rio Grande the 
 spiritofprogress,anddevelop the idea of freedom. 
 The members of the association of" La Giovine 
 Italia," after the treachery in Savoy, were scat- 
 tered throughout all parts of the world to be- 
 come, more by chance than designedly, the 
 apostles, as it were, of a new gospel of the 
 future.* 
 
 Individuals of this association had found an 
 asylum in Monte Video and Rio Grande, where, 
 as in Spain, they had immediate occasion to 
 bear the sword for the common cause, inasmuch 
 as the same principle was there contended for 
 in the open field, on which their association was 
 based. Fragments from Mazzini's works, (of La 
 Giovine Italia,) whose tendency agreed with the 
 principles set forth in the" Fraternization Act" of 
 Young Europe,! vvere printed in large editions in 
 Rio de Janeiro, at the expense of a committee 
 of Rio Grande, and distributed there with zeal. 
 
 On this historical basis, the schooner Mazzini 
 was equipped by the provisionary government 
 of Rio Grande, placed as a privateer under the 
 command of Barigaldi one of the most distin- 
 guished Italian refugees, and mostly manned 
 by Italians. 
 
 The Mazzini was what is called a " Baltimore, 
 schooner," of about seventy-five tons, built for 
 " a fast sailer," and befitting her destination,with 
 eight guns of various calibre and one pecu- 
 liarly long cannon, which ranged in all winds, 
 and could be used with good effect " on particu- 
 lar occasions." Her hull and yards were painted 
 black, and the sails, bought like the whole ves- 
 sel at second, or perhaps at " seventh hand," had 
 already become rather grey with age, and were 
 here and there spotted with a patch of new. 
 She bore the before mentioned revolutionary 
 flag of Rio Grande, the Brazilian green and yel- 
 low, without the device of the solar system, 
 which the flag of the empire displayed. 
 
 Four oflicers besides the commander, (two for 
 navigation, and two for the armament,) twenty 
 marines, and five sailors, formed the crew of this 
 flying privateer, which especially served to pre- 
 vent the debarcation of the enemies' hostile 
 troops on the banks of the Rio Grande, from 
 larger vessels of war, as she drew little water, 
 and could slip in where her appearance was im- 
 portant, and not very agreeable to the enemy. 
 
 * The author touches in this relation, upon the secret 
 associations of Europe and South America, inasmuch as 
 many of their secrets have been discovered to the gov- 
 ernments of various countries, through the diligence of 
 their well paid private agents. 
 
 Several documents which are inserted in, or appended 
 to this work, have already, in the meritorious co-opera- 
 tion, for the dis.semination of the persecuted idea, beea 
 made public through the press, by different govern- 
 ments. The correspondence of Mazzini with the au- 
 thor, a course of philosophical letters, written in the 
 years 1833^, were stolen out of a trunk in London, in 
 'p'ebruary, 1335, while he lingered in prison, in Ostend 
 and Bruges, in Belgium. 
 
 The author's correspondence with Mazzini, from Bra- 
 zil, in the years 1840— 16-1'2— 1343, was subjected to the 
 well known opening of Mazzini's letters, by order .jf 
 the British government, which led to the apprehension 
 and execution of so many patriots in Italy and other 
 countries. The author maizes known, in this work, 
 what he considers essential for the defence of the sacred 
 cause. 
 
 t See " DcUjres," page 88.
 
 100 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE SIGNAL OF DISTBESS. 
 
 Variable winds, such as, for the last two 
 days, had blown the pennant to all points of the 
 compass, are considered as an ill-omen by the 
 weatherwise in this zone, because they are the 
 forerunners of a south westei !y storm, which, 
 under the title of Pampero, asserts its sovereigm- 
 ty as " the might of the strongest," over the 
 southern plains, and even over the river. 
 
 Instead of a discharge of artillery, as the war- 
 like answer from the cutter to the shot of the 
 Mazzini, the significant thunder responded from 
 a scarcely perceptible cloud on the horizon, and 
 a pampero was now rather to be feared. 
 
 After this hollow rumbling enlr^aete of a 
 mysterious orchestra, the second scene of the ma- 
 rine drama upon the river La Plata unfolded 
 itself. The schooner took in a sail, to approach 
 the cutter more slowly, and to be able to hold 
 discourse with her ; but no sign followed tliat 
 made known the design or intention of the com- 
 manding officer. Barigaldi, the often mentioned 
 commander of the Mazzini, stood upon his 
 limited quarterdeck, observing his opponent 
 with the telescope, who did not even put up a 
 signal of distress, as an invitation to peaceable 
 approach. 
 
 " I win wager," said Barigaldi, to an officer 
 near him, " the fellow has some designs upon 
 us ; he will let us come within musket shot, 
 and then take aim at the ' Italian bandit,' as they 
 call me." 
 
 " What good would that do him ? our cannon 
 would soon answer him," replied the other. 
 •' Vou had better send him a dose from our four 
 guns, and he will not hesitate much longer." 
 
 Barigaldi looked again through his telescope, 
 and remarked : " I believe I distinguish the 
 commanding officer. What do you think, Fi- 
 lippo i" said he to one of the crew, " can you 
 blow away that officer out of the stem with our 
 long tube ? — that man who stands up there, with 
 the naval hat, next to the man at the helm ?" 
 
 The man to whom this question was directed 
 was an old artillerist by profession, grown gray 
 on board a man-of-war, with a brownish red 
 weatherbwaten countenance. 
 
 " As you may command," replied he with the 
 utmost sangfroid, walking up to the long tube, 
 the moveable great gun of the Mazzini. 
 
 " Await my order," said Barigaldi. " 1 will 
 ask a blind question, and if that is not answered, 
 then, in God's name, self-defence is no murder." 
 
 A shot was now fired into the air, and the 
 schooner laid " by the wind," but no signal yet 
 appeared from the cutter. 
 
 " Can he have resolved to be sunk V said the 
 officer near Barigaldi, " as he lies there — dis- 
 masted — with scarcely any anns — threatened by 
 a pampero, and, notwithstanding all, evidently 
 having some design upon us .'" 
 
 " Every thing is to be expected from savage 
 party spirit," replied Barigaldi. "He appears to 
 honor us with a plan, and risks himself and his 
 crew to remove from the river the famous Maz- 
 zini, or at least the Italian bandit who com- 
 mands her." 
 
 " That appears to be his intention, indeed," 
 affirmed the other 
 
 " Make ready the long gun '." cried Barigaldi, 
 again putting the glass to his eye, to contemplatB 
 the mark once more before the order to fire. 
 
 " Halloa !" cried he, " there seems to be mu- 
 tiny on board '." and just then a pistol shot was 
 heard. 
 
 " The officer in command, there, has shot a 
 man, or at least, wounded one," continued he. 
 A musket shot followed — and Barigaldi appeared 
 absorbed in contemplation of the scene, which, 
 with the glass at his eye, he could observe tolera- 
 bly well. 
 
 Old Filippo stood motionless, with his hands 
 on his knees, continually keeping his mark in 
 view, and ten times already had the schooner's 
 movement " warranted the shot," as he ex- 
 pressed it, and yet the unexpected order wa» 
 not issued. 
 
 " But now I do not see my man any more," 
 said he, partly to himself, as the mosket shot 
 was heard. 
 
 " The crew appear to have possessed them- 
 selves of the cutter," said Barigaldi, after a long 
 pause ; " the officer, there, was shot, and thrown 
 overboard, the body of the sailor likewise — a 
 man in citizen's dress is also despatched and 
 thrown overboard — he may, perhaps, have been 
 brought out as supercargo for the Swedish brig, 
 yonder." 
 
 A pair of old breeches, fastened to a temporary 
 mast of the cutter, confirmed the suspicion of 
 the mutiny, this signal plainly indicating that 
 foreign assistance was required. 
 
 " Thanks, old Filippo, for your good will !" 
 said the commander to the sharpshooter at the 
 long gun. 
 
 " It is a pity ! a great pity !" murmured the 
 latter ; " I should as surely have hit him as could 
 be, for the Mazzini laid by the wind like a sleep- 
 ing child in the cradle. 
 
 The command to hoist sail and steer for the 
 cutter was issued as soon as the signal was per- 
 ceived, and in a few minutes they were so near 
 that an interview could take place, by means of 
 a speaking tnimpet. 
 
 Without waiting for the schooner to hail, the 
 question was asked, from the cutter, " if any one 
 on board understood English ?" 
 
 A smothered roll of thunder, from the far 
 distance, hindered the immediate reply to a ques- 
 tion, that sounded comical enough to the ofi&:er» 
 of the schooner. 
 
 Instead of replying with a simple '* Yes," Bari- 
 galdi inquired, in tolerably good English : 
 " What ship do you belong to ?" 
 " 1 do not belong to the damned man-of-war 
 with the Rosas flag, nor to the cutter '." was the 
 answer. 
 
 Barigaldi looked at his officers with a smile, 
 and then ordered the sail to be put up, that they 
 might approach the cutter near enough to throw 
 a rope on board of her, for this singular intro- 
 duction promised an intercourse which would 
 be difficult to carry on through the trumpet. 
 
 The cutter was now fastened by the rope, and 
 a midshipman was seen in the stem, with his 
 hands tied behind his back, while a herculean 
 figure, in a sort of temporary naval uniform, 
 with an officer's sword at his left side, and a 
 cocked hat upon his fiery red hair, still held 
 the trumpet in his hand which he had just 
 used. It was our friend. Fat Gentleboy, ad-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 101 
 
 VMiced to the command of the cutter, and next to 
 him stood a South American, with an officer's 
 sword at his left side also. He was boatswain of 
 the Caza. 
 
 " Who are you ?" said Barigaldi, now ob- 
 serving, attentively, the dismasted cutter, with 
 the pantaloon flag, and the prisoner of war. 
 
 " My name is Patrick McCaffray, your honor. 
 Very respectable young ladies call me, generally, 
 Pat Gentleboy, as it is well known. I am an 
 Irishman be birth, and American be principle. 
 I was a passenger on board the man-of-war yon- 
 der, and they sent us out in the cutter to hail 
 the Swedish brig there, and bother her, till the 
 lazy ould thing could come up with us. We 
 had a spy on board — bad luck to him ! He came 
 out to arrest some of the passengers. Does your 
 honor understand .' Very respectable people, so 
 far as I know, and all for a little matther of 
 poethry. They v^re going to take them, and 
 shoot them, or hang them, as they do there in 
 Buenos Ayres. And besides, your honor, I 
 heard them say that a price was set upon some- 
 body's head on board of the Swedish brig there ; 
 the raal living head ; whether iv a gintleman or 
 lady, the divil take me if I know : but the spy 
 that we had on board, wanted to make me spy 
 under him. I was stupid, your honor under- 
 stands — stupid as the ground. I knew more than 
 I choose to answer ; but my friend, the guitar 
 player, that was pressed as a passenger at the 
 same time wid me, knows more than 1. 
 
 " As to our cutter, I must take leave to tell 
 your honor, that our officer did invent devilish 
 means, to disable the Swedish brig, till the 
 ould Cazey — split her timbers ! — could come 
 alongside. He had a powder barrel and rockets 
 on board, to shoot out of a musket ; now, wasn't 
 that the divil's invintion, your honor .' If the 
 brig hadn't consinted to take as on board, and to 
 keep quiet, we must then fall astarn of her, 
 where she couldn't hinder us, your honor, with- 
 out lowering one of her boats ; thin we were to 
 drive this wooden wedge between her rudder and 
 keel, so that she couldn't turn; and thin, your 
 honor, heard you iver the like ! we were to fix 
 the powdther barrel, just under the starn, and 
 fire six rockets into the powdther cask ; and 
 thin, your honor sees, the starn would be 
 smashed, any way, and a part of the cabin 
 blown up. Well, your honor ! we came up wid 
 the brig, and it seemed as if she would take us 
 on board without any fuss at all, at all ; so all 
 went on mighty well. But see, your honor 1 who- 
 iver the gintleman is that commands the Swedish 
 brig, his head is in the right place, I can tell 
 you, and his heart, too ; and that I would testify 
 to in writing, only I don't know how. But I am 
 tiring your honor's patience, and that I'd be loth 
 to do, intirely. So, to make a long story short, 
 we lost our masts, and lay like an empty biscuit 
 cask, with rats for passengers, until your honor 
 was coming up with us ; and thin our command- 
 ing officer wanted to try the powdther plan upon 
 your honor ; but he wanted a rope from you first, 
 to come alongside. Eight men were to return your 
 fire, in case you fired on us first, and these four 
 were to fasten the powdther cask to the starn, 
 and thin the ould Cazey would have overhauled 
 you ; shocking enough ' to perish the Danes !' 
 
 " And so that's the whole, your honor ; and the 
 one that made the plan lies down below there, 
 
 and the spy, besides ; and here is his pocket 
 book, full of papers, that we took out of the ras- 
 cal's pocket, before we gave him salt water to 
 drink. That one there, is a midshipman from 
 the Rosas man-of-war, that we believe to be bet- 
 ter than the others. I tell your honor, plainly, 
 none of my comrades here were willing to sarve 
 the spy, to bring worthy people to the gallows ; 
 and here is a man that understands English as 
 
 well as 1 do ; his name is what is your name, 
 
 now .■"' he asked a Frenchman, from the Isle of 
 Jersey, who had, likewise, been compelled, on 
 some fine morning, to act the " volunteer against 
 his will." 
 
 Barigaldi heard this long story with all the 
 patience of a seaman in a calm, but not without 
 interest, and now examined the Frenchman from 
 Jersey, who spoke tolerably good Spanish, and, 
 thereafter, became Patrick's interpreter. 
 
 " The officer," answered Mr. Toby, from Jer- 
 sey, to a question of Barigaldi's — " the officer, 
 whose name was Senor Codo, ordered us to fasten 
 the powder cask to your stern, and selected four 
 people for that purpose, upon whom he espe- 
 cially relied. When we knew all, we under- 
 stood each other, without speaking a word ; we 
 only looked at each other, and the matter was 
 settled. We loaded all our guns, six or eight, 
 from which the rockets were to be fired. The 
 officer now ordered us to raise a signal of distress, 
 to have you throw us a rope. The man who 
 was to put up the signal, refused, and the officer 
 shot him ; at the same moment, the Irishman 
 levelled at the officer, and — there he lay. The 
 midshipman made no attempt to avenge him ; 
 and the spy had already received his sentence 
 when we came on board, and we have con- 
 scientiously fulfilled it." 
 
 " Have you room for all of us on board, Mr. 
 Commander .'" inquired Patrick McCailray, 
 alias Gentleboy ; " we surrender ourselves to 
 you at discretion or indiscretion, whichiver your 
 honor plases." 
 
 " There is room enough for you all," replied 
 Barigaldi. " Fasten the cutter in tow, and come 
 on board quickly. For the present, we thank 
 you for your noble refusal to deliver us over to 
 the man-of-war, which would have been possi- 
 ble by such a method. You have behaved like 
 brave sailors, and as such you will be treated by 
 us, I pledge myself to send you free to Monte 
 Video, but I am going first to Rio Grande." 
 
 " All right, captain, I thank you for us all," 
 cried Patrick. Did your honor say it was to Rio 
 Grande, you was going : Och, then, it is a pity 
 it is not to Rio Negro, for it is there I'd wish to 
 go ; my brother Tom is there, a carpenter by 
 profession, your honor." 
 
 "You will easily find a passage out there 
 from Monte Video," returned Barigaldi, who 
 could hardly restrain from laughter ; t+ien casting 
 a glance at the Nordstjernan, and at the distant 
 thunder cloud, he stepped down into his confined 
 cabin, to examine the pocket-book of Perezoso, 
 which the honorable commander of the cutter, 
 Pat Gentleboy, had handed to him. 
 
 The disarmed midshipman of the Caza was 
 obliged to have his hands untied, that he might 
 use them in getting on board the schooner. Whea 
 he stepped on the deck he mentioned his name, 
 and resigned himself to his fate as a prisoner of 
 war. The crew was now on board, and with
 
 102 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 them all their arms and ammunition. Barigaldi 
 stepped hastily out of his cabin, and commanded 
 the vessel's course to be directed to the Swedish 
 brig. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE TWO EUROPEANS. 
 
 The distance of about two English miles, at 
 which the Nordstjernan had awaited the surren- 
 der of the cutter, was soon passed over. The 
 Mazzini was laid by the wind, and the cutter, 
 in tow, was hastily used as a shallop, with 
 which to come on board of the brig. 
 
 The notorious " Italian bandit " was of the 
 same age with Hinango, and resembled him in 
 form and figure, while he also would have been 
 readily recognised as belonging to the hii;her 
 classes of the social world, let him appear in 
 whatever dress he might. 
 
 The lengthened form of his face, his pale 
 complexion, sharply defined and somewhat 
 curved nose, well formed lips, and deep set, 
 dark eyes, with an expressive glance, black 
 hair, and the peculiarly sonorous sound of a 
 clear breast voice, all marked him as an Italian. 
 He was dressed in a simple, dark blue uni- 
 form, armed with sword and pistols, and wear- 
 ing on his head a marine hat, in the form of a 
 shallop, (a wind splitter, as Patrick Gentleboy 
 called it,) which displayed the same green, red, 
 and white cockade, that he had worn in Savoy. 
 Hinango and Captain Finngreen awaited him 
 at the gangway, ibr the usual welcome. He 
 stepped upon deck, and the three seaman looked 
 earnestly at each other, and pressed each others 
 hands. Ormur presented his countryman, Capt. 
 Finngreen, to the commander of the JVIazzini, as 
 captain of the Nordstjernan. 
 
 " Ormur !" said Barigaldi, and pre.ssed him to 
 his breast, while the eyes of both appeared to 
 become moist, and their lips to quiver with 
 the emotions that pervaded their manly hearts. 
 The thunder, which was heard from time to 
 time, between long intervals, gradually stj-ength- 
 ened its voice, and again reminded them of an 
 approaching southwest storm. 
 
 " Welcome to me, old friend !" at length ex- 
 claimed Ormur, " we have much to say to each 
 other." 
 
 " We must be brief," returned the other, 
 " our minutes are numbered ; a pampero is on 
 its way, and we must go to sea with reefed top- 
 sails. I will keep you company to the latitude 
 of Rio Grande. What news do you bring from 
 our friends in Europe .' But first, above all, ^hat 
 do you bring from Buenos Ayres ? What pas- 
 sengers — what fugitives or exiles have you on 
 board .'" 
 
 Ormur hastily led his associate to the quarter- 
 deck — to Dolores, Horatio, and Alvarez, and 
 a scene of surprise, and a soul-felt greeting en- 
 sued, which shook the hearts of the bearded 
 men, though long hardened in the storms of life 
 and of the ocean. 
 
 The universal interest which the songs of the 
 poetess had excited, especially in Monte Video 
 
 and in Rio Grande, must naturally extend itself 
 to her person, and increase with the danger to 
 which they made her liable. On tlie other hand, 
 Barigaldi was an equally interesting personage 
 to the associates on the southern banks of the 
 La Plata, since he represented, as it were, the 
 spirit of a European association, whose strength 
 and resources, considered from so great a dis- 
 tance, appeared the greater, the more he proved 
 their principles by his daring heroism. 
 
 ** The spy who was sent after you, to appre- 
 hend you," began Barigaldi, when -the saluta 
 tions were over, " is no longer able to molest 
 you. The true sailor hearts of these people 
 from the man-of-war were aroused against a 
 treachery which would have destroyed us all. 
 I will leave a man on board with you, who can 
 relate to you, circumstantially, what danger we 
 have escaped. So much for the moment ; I 
 have the pocket book of the spy in my posses- 
 sion, and perceive, by some %f the papers, that 
 the Benedictine monk. Celeste, is involved in 
 your afl'airs, is exposed to the like danger, and 
 has fled. They suspect him to be on board ot 
 this vessel. Is he here ?" 
 
 " Celeste !" exclaimed Dolores, involuntarily 
 folding her hands ; " then he has escaped ! Al- 
 mighty God protect his flight ! be with him as 
 thou art with us !" 
 
 " He is not on board, then .' that is well, for 
 then, at least, they do not suspect where he has 
 gone — they have no trace of him in and around 
 Buenos Ayres. Fate, also, appears to favor 
 him." 
 
 " iVIay God grant it !" sighed Dolores again. 
 " Has he any one of our friends as his confi- 
 dant .'" inquired Barigaldi, hastily, as before. 
 
 " Joseph Testa is in communication with 
 him," replied Ormur. 
 
 " Joseph Testa, from Rio Negro ?" 
 " The same ; he was in Buenos Ayres, and 
 assisted our embarcation," continued Ormur. 
 
 " Well ! then. Brother Celeste is in good 
 hands : with God's permission, we shall hear 
 from him in good time. An Englishman, Mr. 
 Walker, is called to account for your flight, Se- 
 iiora ; you have staid in his house," continued 
 Barigaldi. 
 
 " And what course did he take to clear hitn- 
 self .'" inquired Dolores, with anxiety. 
 
 " So far as I learn by the spy's papers, he seems 
 to be a clever old fellow. He affirmed that he 
 knew nothing at all of your political position, 
 and complained of his son for having probably 
 carried you away, since the police, to his great 
 terror, as he affirmed, had found his daughter 
 remaining in Buenos Ayres, who was to have 
 gone with his son to Rio de Janeiro, but instead 
 of her, he supposed his son had probably taken 
 you with him. He described the whole affair as 
 a love adventure, and the police are not yet wholly 
 satisfied as to the authorship. Only the spy, 
 Perezoso, as he was called, appeared to know 
 your true position, but as yet he had confided it 
 to no one." 
 
 The ingenious turn given by old Mr. Walker, 
 to mask the sudden departure of Dolores, and 
 to divert the suspicion from himself, of having 
 favored her flight, was too comical not to excite 
 a hearty laugh, in spite of the seriousness of the 
 occasion. 
 " That looks like old Mr. Walker," observed
 
 DOLORES 
 
 103 
 
 Hsratio. " T can picture to myself exactly how 
 he played his part before the police ; and in fact 
 there was no other way for him to extricate 
 himself from this scrape into which his sympa- 
 thy for us had ledhim." 
 
 " There was no other way," said Dolores ; ** but 
 I am convinced that he is able to lead the po- 
 lice astray, and that many of them really believe 
 him. But what has become of Perezoso ?" 
 
 " The people of the cutter, here, threw him 
 overboard," answered the Italian. 
 
 " My God !" cried Dolores, " drowned ?" 
 
 ** Drowned ! like a cat," continued Barigaldi, 
 " after having been shown to be the originator 
 tif this expedition for our overthrow. He has 
 found his reward as a police spy in the waves." 
 
 Dolores appeared absorved in painful contem- 
 plations upon the death of the man, who, not- 
 withstanding, had openly sold her life for gold. 
 
 Barigaldi continued : " Approve my counsel 
 Senora : remain quietly for the present in Rio 
 de Janeiro, or the neighborhood. Perhaps we 
 may hereafter offer you a more secure asylum in 
 Rio Grande ; that is my desire. In either case, 
 you shall soon hear from me. Ormur %vill, I 
 hope, soon take a privateer, like mine, and come 
 to us ; but without protection on aur part, you 
 cannot remain in Brazil." 
 
 " These two friends," replied Dolores, pointing 
 to Horatio and Alvarez," will, 1 hope, remain in 
 my neighborhood, and my old servant, the negro 
 there, will not leave me ; our enemies can only 
 succeed by the most deeply^lanned and well exe- 
 cuted measures, if at all, in isolating and cap- 
 turing me." 
 
 " It is probable, notwithstanding the fate that 
 has so speedily overtaken the betrayer, that your 
 authorship and whereabouts may be discovered, 
 and vengeance become more envenomed in pro- 
 portion to its difficulty. Pardon me, if I repeat 
 what you may consider a superfluous warning ; 
 " omit no precaution." 
 
 " My situation will be the more critical, be- 
 cause the customs and prejudices in regard to my 
 sex oblige me to live with some family, who 
 may be more or less indifferent to my fate." 
 
 " I feel that it is so," interrupted Hinango ; 
 " another case, that may well lead us to serious 
 contemplation of the social position of the fe- 
 male sex, which we will discuss at some future 
 time." 
 
 The thunder storm, whose lightnings were 
 hardly visible in the far distant sky, reminded 
 the commander of the Mazzini of the pressing 
 need of haste ; he handed some papers to Hi- 
 nango, saying : " We have mutual reports to make 
 to each other upon the progress and present cir- 
 cumstances of our spiritual association, and upon 
 South America ; foreseeing the chance that we 
 might speak to each other for a moment, 1 have 
 arranged some extracts and several letters for you 
 to deliver to our friends in Europe. 
 
 I beg you, in case our voyage admits of it, to 
 write down what you have to communicate to 
 me from Europe, before we separate in the lati- 
 tude of Rio Grande." 
 
 " I have already, like yourself, availed myself 
 of some leisure hours here on board," replied 
 Hinango, " to draw up my report for you, and I 
 will hand it to you. I would remark, however, 
 that my statement of the circumstances of Eu- 
 rope, in respect to the extension of our associa- 
 
 tion, can only serve as a hasty sketch, since the 
 subject is too comprehensive, and I am not in 
 the state of mind which is absolutely necessary 
 for such a labor. I will get the leaves for you." 
 
 He hurried down into the cabin — Dolores fol- 
 lowed him with her eyes, and Barigaldi said, ia 
 a subdued voice : 
 
 " A singular man, our friend Ormur, one of 
 the most singular I have ever met with ; the 
 most reckless devotion to the cause of the peo^ 
 pie, with renunciation of all thought of acknow- 
 ledgement, and even despairing of the result in 
 our generation. A man whose path from child- 
 hood has been in one direction, and whose spirit 
 has taken a flight in which ordinary men cannot 
 accompany him. He is, with all his failings, 
 defects, and weaknesses, one of the most disin- 
 terested men I know, but also one of the most 
 unhappy. Can you conceive of the greatest har- 
 mony and consistency in word and deed, a spir- 
 itual and moral unity, founded upon unshaken 
 conviction, elevated by religious faith, united 
 with the most deeply lacerated heart, with re- 
 nunciation of all expectations in life, with hope- 
 lessness of a single hour of joy — a gloomy dis- 
 consolateness which endures life, and longs for 
 the grave .'" 
 
 Dolores heard this description of her pro- 
 tector, with profound emotion, and replied, m as 
 low a tone : 
 
 " Until now, I have neither sought, nor acci- 
 dentally found the opportunity to touch the 
 chords of his inward life, to awaken sounds which 
 might indicate such a state of mind as you de- 
 scribe. But I suspected, in a manner unaccount- 
 able to myself, a similar state of mind in our 
 friend, and I can conceive it of him. 1 can com- 
 bine the unconditional consequence of individual 
 suffering with renunciation and devotion to the 
 cause of the people. Only an egotist fastens 
 himself on this earthly existence, because he 
 believes in no higher." 
 
 " Figure to yourself," said the' Italian, " a man 
 who stands isolated in the midst of the social 
 world ; as far removed from them, as he is, here 
 on board, remote from the firm land ; a soul, with 
 the deepest susceptibilities for love and friend- 
 ship, whom, however, no woman did understand, 
 nor love ; and who, proscribed by our political 
 enemies, even often misapprehended by our asso- 
 ciates, is frequently injured by our friends." 
 
 " No woman, you say, did understand him, 
 and has ever made him happy with her love ? 
 How is that possible, since he appears to possess 
 many of the qualities with which a man should 
 inspire aft'ection ?" 
 
 " Exalted mind, noble sentiment, and the 
 firmness of a manly character, seem not to be 
 always appreciated by woman ; on the contrary, 
 I suspect that the heart of our friend has been 
 wounded and poisoned by a woman, in spite of 
 his mind, sentiment, and character. There is a 
 secret in his soul, which, besides God, one being 
 has ever known. Whether this being yet lives, 
 we, who know him as a friend, are ignorant. 
 You will know him better during your voyage, 
 and before he leaves Rio de Janeiro ; but ths 
 gloomy veil which envelopes his mind, will 
 hardly be rent to your view. Touch the veil, 
 and you will beluild in him a convul.sive ebulli- 
 tion; the furies will be awakened in him He 
 is an Orestes towards a Pylades, but an Orestes,
 
 104 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 also, pursued by Eumenides — only with the dif- 
 ference that he has found no ' sister,' whose de- 
 liverance from the bonds of tyranny may 
 reconcile him with an offended God. It seems 
 as if his peace of mind were gone — as if the 
 sanctuary of his inward life had been disturbed 
 by some ' Vandalism.' " 
 
 Hinango here returned on deck, and delivered 
 the papers to his associate, saying, with a smile ; 
 " We must, then, separate, to remain near each 
 other, if you are willing to ' make little sail in a 
 good wind,' that we may be able to follow you." 
 
 " I will endeavor to remain near you, that I 
 may be at hand in case of need," replied the 
 other. " The man-of-war cannot overtake us, 
 if the storm should even drive her after us. We 
 nave passed the English Bank. Follow after 
 me ; I will be your pilot, even thougli you no 
 longer require me. Farewell! It is to be hoped 
 that we shall escape the Pampero as luckily as 
 we have the sbirri of Rosas, and find a fine day, 
 in the latitude of Rio Grande, to take leave, until 
 we meet again in Rio Grande itself." Afler 
 some heartfelt words from all, he was hurrying, 
 with all speed, from the quarterdeck, as Capt. 
 Finngreen stepped up to him, and, after the 
 sacred custom of Northern hospitality, refused 
 to allow him to depart until he had emptied a 
 glass of wine to " mutual prosperity and suc- 
 cess, a good wind, and hopes of a better future 
 to all the oppressed nations upon earth." 
 
 Barigaldi already stood with one foot upon the 
 gangway steps, and then turned to the two 
 captains of the Nordstjernan, with a look at the 
 cutter, and exclaimed : " Apropos ! what shall 
 we do with the cutter .' She is a good prize, 
 and 1 would take her after me, in tow, if some 
 one else could not make better use of her." 
 
 He now turned to Patrick Gentleboy, who 
 Bat in the stern of the cutter, with a bottle from 
 the stores of the Nordstjernan. 
 
 " Son of the ever green Erin !" cried Barigaldi 
 to him, " I give the cutter to you, for you 
 honestly deserve it. Come on board of the 
 Nordstjernan, and go with it to the latitude of 
 Rio Grande. The cutter will find room here by 
 the longboat, in case the Pampero becomes too 
 strong, and threatens to break the tow line. 
 Shall it not be so, captain ? You will take them 
 up — the man and the cutter .'" 
 
 " With pleasure," said Capt. Finngreen ; " I 
 will send a couple of men down to bring the 
 cutter to us again." 
 
 " Besides, I desire," said Barigaldi to Patrick, 
 " that you should, circumstantially, relate to the 
 captain, and some of the passengers, how you 
 came to be with us. You will find time enough 
 for that at sea." 
 
 " All right, your honor !" cried Patrick ; " and, 
 faith ! I've enough to tell." Then putting the 
 l)ottle to his lips, he exclaimed : " Health, and 
 long life, and good luck, to your honor ! and sure 
 I'm mucii obliged to ye ; and I'll tadce this hat, 
 and sword, too, by your honor's lave, and thin 
 I'll be a navy officer, with hat and sword, and a 
 ' private privateer,' owner of my own vessel. 
 Glorious that I is't not .' If only the folks in ould 
 Ireland could know of it !" 
 
 " We thank you ; you have brought us all 
 out of danger by your presence of mind ; per- 
 haps a career, as a seaman, will soon be opened 
 to you If I equip a privateer, you shall be my 
 
 first boatswain, if you desire it," said HinangO 
 
 to him. 
 
 " Thank your honor kindly, and heaven bless 
 you all, gentlemen ; but, for the present, I am 
 captain of the cutter, and passenger on board 
 the brig here, by your lave." 
 
 Some sailors of the Nordstjernan followed the 
 commander of the Mazzini down into the cut- 
 ter, which quickly passed to the schooner, and. 
 then returned. The cutter, and her lavyful 
 commander, Mr. Patrick GentJeboy, soon found 
 themselves on board of the Swedish brig, which 
 hoisted sail and resumed her courae. 
 
 The waters at the mouth of the La Plata had 
 assumed a loamy yellowish color, and here and 
 there the foam curled over a tolerably high 
 wave. The cloud bank in the southwest had 
 extended itself to a gray dusky veil, which 
 nearly covered the entire horizon. The sea- 
 birds soared in hurried flight around the sails 
 and yards of both vessels, through whose rig- 
 ging the outbreaking storm piped and howled, 
 as through the sides of an .£oIian harp. 
 
 The Mazzini was under sail, and gave the 
 farewell salute w^ith a full round. Capt. 
 Finngreen replied with his four cannon, which, 
 loaded in such eventful hours, could scarcely 
 have been fired under more fortunate circum- 
 stances. 
 
 The man-of-war. La Caza, appeared in the 
 far distance, seeking her cutter and the Swedish 
 brig, on whose mast commander Tumble ex- 
 pected to see the Rosts' flag, which Seiior Codo 
 had carried with him for this purpose. What 
 reflections occurred to him when he beheld the 
 Nordstjernan under sail, and could see nothing 
 of his cutter, and what curses he sent out into 
 the roaring pampero, which, by degrees, carried 
 away from him the object of his pursuit, we 
 leave unmentioned. 
 
 '• f f^444-t-^^'4 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 1 HE Nordstjernan followed the Mazzini at a 
 short distance, and carried as much sail as the 
 constantly increasing storm would permit, to 
 keep in .light of her leader, which, as Mr. 
 Walker had said, was tossed about like a " nut- 
 shell," indeed, from one Ibaming wave to another. 
 
 Many of the passengers on board the Nord- 
 stjernan, did not feel very comfortable at being 
 carried to sea in such weather, and Dr. Merbold 
 asked the captain " why he did not cast anchor 
 until the storm was over." The wind was in 
 itself favorable, and a seaman would not have 
 wished for a " better opportunity " to pass the 
 sand banks at the mouth of the river. 
 
 Dolores and her companions looked back upon 
 the last few hours with excited feelings; their 
 souls were like the ocean, which, after having 
 been tossed about by the tempest, does not find 
 rest when the storm ceases, and the sun breaks 
 forth, but continues to raise on high its foam 
 crested waves. 
 
 The past danger lay behind her like a gloomy 
 dream, in which were seen many figures of
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 105 
 
 corpses, and which had threatened her with the 
 grave. The storm that now lay around her, 
 gave her no alarm. Persons who are penetrated 
 by an exalted idea, who devote their lives to 
 some inward conviction, know no fear of death, 
 no anxiety from surrounding danger. The con- 
 sciousness of their free sacrifice is inwoven with 
 a firm confidence in divine power, the source 
 from which proceeds the light whose rays illu- 
 minate their souls. In such cases their faith 
 urges upon fatalism, insomuch as they feel that 
 the mission upon %vhich they are sent, is not yet 
 fulfilled on earth, and that the mysterious power 
 which men call " providence," or " fate," con- 
 ducts them, through storms and dangers, to their 
 goal, to the completion of their mission. 
 
 Hinango, whose mind was occupied with his 
 next destination, his personal coperation in the 
 struggle of the Brazilians for the establishment 
 of their freedom, sought a moment of leisure to 
 look over the papers which Barigaldi had handed 
 to him, and read hastily and cursorily the follow- 
 ing— 
 
 FRAGMENT ON BRAZII,. 
 
 Communication of a Brazilian, 183S. 
 
 So far as I am acquainted with the repre- 
 sentations of the political circumstances of Bra- 
 zil in European pages, they give, for the most 
 part, an obscure and confused view of the real 
 state of affairs. Nearly all the statements flow 
 from foreign pens, and arise at the instance of 
 some embassy or other, or at least proceed from 
 persons who are dependant upon some Euro- 
 pean court, and most of whom travel at the 
 expense of royalty, and, of course, endeavor to 
 represent the monarchial principle, although, 
 notwithstanding this, they do not deny the pro- 
 gress and development of the republican spirit 
 in Brazil. The conclusions of such articles in 
 newspapers and reviews, are of a very peculiar 
 character. They deplore the disturbed state of 
 our country, and prophesy the downfall of the 
 state, by bankruptcy of the finances, or revolu- 
 tion, " if the European powers do not finally 
 take the thing in hand, and restore peace and 
 order amongst us." 
 
 The Brazilians may well smile, when they 
 read, or hear such phrases, which have been 
 worn threadbare for the last twenty years, 
 while, since the first republican insurrection in 
 Pernambuco in 1817, we have often given the 
 European powers sufficient opportunity to 
 gather the bloody experience, that, up to the 
 present time, it has not been an easy matter to 
 establish among us what they term " peace and 
 order," by means of foreign bayonets. This 
 " most Christian," magnanimous, and diplomati- 
 cally heroic co-operation of the European pow- 
 ers, for the maintenance of despotism in Brazil, 
 has, unfortunately for them, thus far, failed in its 
 object, since it has called forth the might of 
 our people by an uninterrupted struggle, and 
 strengthened them by means of internal excite- 
 ment. 
 
 In those " standing phrases" upon the future 
 prospects of Brazil, through the influence and 
 intervention of European powers, lies one of 
 the diplomatic contradictions by which these 
 people sometimes compromise themselves. 
 
 If Brazil as a monarchy approaches bank- 
 U 
 
 ruptcy, will the European powers generously 
 pay our state debt ? or will they, like England, 
 (with equally magnanimous Great Britannical 
 stipulations,) increase our public debt, by means 
 of a loan, and thus still more derange our finan- 
 cial relations, thereby hastening the prophesied 
 downfall of the state, and bringing about the 
 fulfilment of the prophecy, instead of retarding it? 
 
 Will the European powers anticipate the 
 downfall of the Brazilian monarchy, through 
 revolution, by the intervention of their armed 
 troops ? Supposing that the revolutionary spirit 
 in their own countries should permit them to 
 despatch entire armies across the ocean, at whose 
 cost is this to be accomplished ? At Roths- 
 child's ? 
 
 Grant that such "disinterested intervention" 
 should here and there suppress a republican in- 
 surrection, would these fantastic hosts then mag- 
 nanimously withdraw, reship, and return home 
 at Rothschild's expense .' I have as yet as little 
 conception of the generosity of the European 
 diplomacy for the deliverance of the tropical mo- 
 narchy, as theyapppear to entertain of the posi- 
 tion of our people. I behold in their measures, 
 instead of the deliverance and preservation of 
 the monarchy, directly the reverse, the downfall 
 of our state by dismemberment and division, af- 
 ter the European diplomatic method; and to 
 avert this fate, is the first and most sacred duty 
 of every Brazilian. 
 
 1 may be allowed to presuppose a superficial 
 acquaintance with the history of Brazil, and 
 point out, here, only the various epochs which 
 have been inscribed with our blood upon the 
 annals of the century. 
 
 Brazil, under Portuguese sovereignty, pre- 
 sented the scandalous picture of an absolute 
 monarchy, in which demoralization, proceeding 
 from the court, went hand in hand with the 
 stupifying system of the priesthood. Portuguese 
 aristocrats, for the most part adventurers, who, 
 for various reasons, had removed from the mother 
 country to seek their fortunes in the Nevir 
 World, formed here the basis of a social world, 
 in which not even bigotry itself would thrive, 
 which here, as everywhere else, should sustain 
 the monarchy. 
 
 The Europeans may, with justice, describe 
 the former condition of Brazil as a sink of de- 
 moralization and barbarism. What morality 
 could flourish in a society whose founders left 
 the Old World to despoil the gold mines of a 
 country by means of negro slaves, and recog- 
 nised sensual animal enjoyment as the aim of 
 life, from the first Minister of the State, and the 
 Prior of the monastery, down to the meanest 
 lackey, who, like his lord, went to work, sys- 
 tematically, to increase flie population by mu- 
 lattoes. Trades people, of different countries, 
 who settled in the seaport towns, and whose 
 number was as limited as trade itself, (then a 
 monopoly of the Portuguese government,) cannot 
 be considered as exercising any influence on 
 manners and culture. 
 
 The historical fact, however, that already, in 
 the beginning of our century, a decided spirit of 
 Brazilian nationality, founded upon morality, 
 showed itself under this priestly government, 
 which recognised the suspicious position of the 
 European adventurers, and met with deserved 
 contempt their plundering of the rich country.
 
 106 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 as well as their degradin? treatment of the na- 
 tives, the descendants of European ancestors ; 
 all this appears to me more remarkable than 
 the condition of licentious degradation, which 
 must proceed, as a natural consequence, from 
 the former element. 
 
 If we consider the original white population 
 of Brazil, descended from condemned criminals,* 
 persecuted Jews, women thrust forth from so- 
 ciety, aristocrats without nobility of soul, priests 
 who evaded celibacy, soldiers who stood in the 
 same class with galley slaves, (independently of 
 the preponderating number of mulattoes,) it must 
 certainly be an elevating phenomenon, that Bra- 
 zil, notwithstanding all the systematic demorali- 
 zation of Church and State, lias become a nation, 
 that, upon the slightest influence of historical 
 events in Europe, has shown the spirit of pro- 
 gress, the desire for freedom, to be the condition 
 of all civilization, and has often maintained it 
 with her blood. 
 
 Indeed, this appearance of a nation, in the 
 consciousness of its national dignity, in an unin- 
 terrupted, decided struggle for republican free- 
 dom, at the beginning ot' the third centuryt after 
 its settlement, furnishes material for the most 
 serious consideration upon the ennoblement of 
 the human race, as a natural, self-consequent 
 condition. 
 
 Dilt'erent as may be the provincial character 
 of the inhabitants, from Para to Rio Grande, all 
 travellers, who have given the result of their 
 observations to the world, unanimously acknow- 
 ledge the Brazilians as an upright, hospitable 
 people, susceptible of great cultivation, and 
 striving after it, and endowed with high intel- 
 lectual talents and capacities. 
 
 None will deny that despotism, as well as 
 priestcraft, made every exertion to retain the 
 people under their yoke, and to undermine and 
 choke down the spirit of enlightenment, the 
 desire for freedom, in the heart of the nation, 
 Brazil was kept, as it were, in a perpetual quar- 
 antine, for the prevention of contagion from so 
 called " liberal ideas." Europe sent over ship- 
 loads of priests, in monk's cowls and secular 
 habits, and armies in the service of the crown ; 
 and yet, all these endeavors of absolute, as well 
 as of constitutional monarchy, were in vain. 
 The country itself, which, up to the year IslO, 
 had delivered to Portugal over 1,400,000 lbs. of 
 gold, and upwards of •20,000 lbs. of diamonds, ap- 
 peared to have relinquished into the hands of the 
 monarchy all conceivable means of overwhelm- 
 ing the provinces with its power. 
 
 And what has the Portuguese dynasty done for 
 the welfare of mankind, with these millions ? 
 What has Portugal accomplished, with such 
 means, for the civilization of Brazil — for the 
 civilization of Europe ? 
 
 Portugal treated us as vassals of the crown ; 
 and, at the present time, every Portuguese ^ar- 
 venite considers our country as a Portuguese 
 colony, detached by rebellion, but which will, 
 
 •The above mentioned selection, for the later popula- 
 tion of the country, offers brilliant facts in proof of the 
 system of demoralisation intended to uphold legitimacy 
 there, 
 
 t During the first century after the discovery of Bra- 
 lil, Portugal hardly took any notice of this New World — 
 a neglect, the cause of which can only be traced to the 
 narrow spirit of f uch a priest-ridden ^verument. 
 
 with the help of England, and other European 
 powers, sooner or later, again become the prop- 
 erty of the crown. 
 
 A second element of foreign disturbance was 
 developed, when Portugal relinquished the mo- 
 nopoly system of export and trade, and, as it 
 were, partly pledged, and partly sold, the whole 
 monarchy to England. While England sought, 
 in Brazil, a free market for her manufactures, 
 she loaded the most important of our productions 
 with an import duty of two hundred per cent., 
 and received her handsome interest for the loan 
 of three millions of pounds sterling, magnani- 
 mously offered under truly Britannic conditions. 
 
 Moreover, England has possessed herself, by 
 means of private enterprise, of nearly all the gold 
 mines of the country, and supports the govern- 
 ment, (which will transfer the country, with its 
 land and naval forces, to the pawnbroker's shop — • 
 Britannia,) when the nation, wearied with such 
 maltreatment, assert their rights, and contend 
 for the " liberty " which the Briton has in his 
 mouth while he helps to destroy it. 
 
 Our constitutional government shows an an- 
 nual deficit of almost a million of pounds ster- 
 ling, (nearly one-third of the whole revenue;) 
 and the European royalists appear to wonder, 
 that hardly a year passes, in which a rebellion 
 does not break out in one part of Brazil or 
 another, the republican tendency of which they 
 cannot themselves deny ; and to suppress which, 
 the state debt must be still more increased, by 
 means of foreign bayonets, or, at least, by means 
 of foreign money. The monarchical system is, 
 more evidently, working its own downfall here, 
 than in other countries, under similar circum- 
 stances ; and whoever will still deny the hasten- 
 ing overthrow, must be as narrow-minded as the 
 government which considers it possible to main- 
 tain itself by such a system. 
 
 The creatures at the head of the government, 
 who also serve as its instruments, appear to 
 perceive, very clearly, the approaching downfall 
 of the last and only monarchy in South Ameri- 
 ca ; and even in this perception they seem to 
 find an additional reason for the ruin of the 
 finances. These high officers of Brazil steal 
 with the same effrontery as the privileged and 
 order-decorated crown thieves of Russia, or any 
 other legitimate or quasi legitimate monarchy, 
 while the heir to the crown (a tragical sacrifice 
 to the principle he represents) is brought up 
 under the iniluence of Austria, to become an 
 emperor, whose person is intended to be every 
 thing to the people, and a cypher to the minis- 
 ters, which, in their political calculations, they 
 place before numbers, where a cypher is of no 
 value. Out of the above elements, three parties 
 have been formed in Brazil: the Caramuros,' 
 the Portuguese aristocratic party ; the Modera- 
 dos, the constitutional mercantile, (the ;«.s(f-;ni- 
 lieu ;) and the Faroupilhas, the republicans, 
 With sword in hand. 
 
 The preponderating number of the last was 
 ascertained by the election of the regent, during 
 the interregnum in the year 1S3.5, which, by a 
 great majority, gave the helm of state to the 
 patriarch Feigo, formerly an ecclesiastic of the 
 
 * Caramuros. — An Indian word, signifying men witlx 
 fire arms. 
 Moderado. — Temperate, moderate. 
 Faroupilhas. — Kagamultlns, sans culotitt.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 107 
 
 highest rank, and an abomination to the Euro- 
 pean powers, who, as the supporters of the 
 Caramuros, used every means to ^ring about a 
 state of anarchy, in order to disgust the venera- 
 ble chief ruler of Brazil with the regency. 
 
 Feigo* abdicated his office with resigna- 
 tion, since he probably perceived that the Bra- 
 zilian monarchy was not to be saved by a single 
 man, and his position was too elevated, that he, 
 as a republican, should attach any value to being 
 monarchical regent of his country. 
 
 We will now consider the position of the Por- 
 tuguese and Britons. 
 
 The Portuguese are attached to, and depen- 
 dants of the Caramuros, and would as gladly 
 reinstate the Portuguese absolute monarchy as 
 the Britons, who would certainly patronise 
 this " Christian worli" as zealously as they 
 once did the like in Spain — while in Brazil 
 they endeavor to put down the people, by force 
 of arms, wherever they stand up for their rights. 
 The bitter hatred of the Brazilians, against 
 the British and Portuguese, is, ofcour.se, a logical 
 consequence, resulting from the nature of things. 
 A nation cannot be more speedily led to the 
 development of freedom, than when it is di- 
 'rectly, or indirectly, under foreign dominion. 
 And who will deny that we are under foreign 
 dominion.' We are under British dominion, for 
 we are pawned to England, and systematic- 
 ally drained of our wealth by England. We are 
 under the Portuguese yoke, for the majority of 
 government officers are Portuguese oarvenues, 
 declared enemies to the Brazilian nation, 
 under the influence of the European Great Mo- 
 guls, who, through their ambassadors, directly 
 rule the court, (their own workmanship,) and, in 
 its dependance, their diplomatic plaything. 
 
 Let no man wonder that the people, impov- 
 erished by direct and indirect extortions of for- 
 eign avarice and foreign usury, and despised by 
 foreign selfishness, rise up in despair, and make 
 " short work " with all the British and Portu- 
 guese, as they did in Para two years since, and 
 as may well happen again in other places. f 
 
 British travellers, who appear as authors, re- 
 proach us that we let the children of our ne- 
 groes live in our families, and grow up with us 
 and our own children, whereby they acquire a 
 certain groundwork of moral culture ; and these 
 same Britons desire to be thought zealous *' Abo- 
 litionists," and '* Christian philanthropists." 
 
 I touch here upon this British inconsistency, 
 because the matter is, in itself, more important 
 than it appears. 
 
 In no country is there so little prejudice 
 against color and religion, and no where is tole- 
 
 Diego Antonio Feigo, one of the most interesting and 
 noble characters of our century, was apprehended in 
 1H42, at the headquarters of the republicans in St. 
 Pauio, and carried prisoner to Rio de Janeiro, where the 
 author became acquainted with him. 
 
 t When the provinces of St. Pauto and Minas Geraes 
 had united with the republican revolution in llio Grande, 
 in la4'2, and the rebels were only one day's march from 
 Rio de Janeiro, the night was appointed in which all the 
 British and Portuguese there should be put to the sword. 
 A defeat of the insurgents by a sudden attack of the 
 government troops, in a narrow pass not far from Sa- 
 bara, hindered, for the moment, the execution of this 
 plan. Among the numerous captures that were made 
 on that occasion, the author saw the most respectable 
 men of the higher classes, from the proviDces as well as 
 tnja the capital. 
 
 ranee towards black and white so preralent at 
 in Brazil The growing up together, and the 
 relation to each other as playfellows, of black 
 and white, has an important influence upon the 
 moral condition of the people, which, undenia- 
 bly, proceeds from it. In the great cities, as Rio 
 de Janeiro, for example, the proportion of the 
 white population to the black, is as one to three,* 
 and the number of criminals, according to the 
 oflScial lists of the prisons, is an average of five 
 whites, to one negro, or colored person ; and, 
 moreover, among these whites, the smallest num- 
 ber are native Brazilians, the majority are for- 
 eigners, who honor our country by coming to it 
 as vagabonds, or chevaliers d'industrie. The 
 fruit and vegetable trade, the fishery, the retail 
 trade of subordinate necessaries, and the com- 
 monest handicrafts, are followed by free negroes, 
 and colored people ; and there is hardly a more 
 honest and industrious class in any city of Eu- 
 rope, than Bur free colored people. 
 
 While the slare trade is declared by our con- 
 stitution to be abolished, the government, directly 
 or indirectly, promotes and favors the introduc- 
 tion of negro slaves for the benefit of British 
 mines and British plantations, and for the " fa- 
 zendast " of our aristocrats in the interior of tha 
 country. 
 
 Proprietors of the middling class, (fazendeires,) 
 in possession of a small number of negroes, can- 
 not, very naturally, keep pace in the cultivation 
 of the soil with British speculators and Portu- 
 guese aristocrats, who transport here, from Africa, 
 whole cargoes of negro slaves for their planta- 
 tions, and establish fazendas, and dig mines at 
 pleasure. The strict enforcement of the prohi- 
 bition against the introduction of negro slaves 
 and the entire abolition of slavery, would be to 
 the interest of the people ; the inhabitants of 
 the interior cultivating their lands as benefi- 
 cially by the labor of free negroes, as under 
 the above mentioned circumstances by slaves. 
 They have not the capital of the foreigners and 
 aristocrats at their command, to keep some hun- 
 dred negroes at work ; and each negro is, to the 
 less wealthy, a considerable property in himself, 
 which cannot be insured against sickness or ac- 
 cident, while a richer person would suffer less 
 from the loss of a single one. 
 
 When our negroes in the insurrectionary pro- 
 vinces fought like lions by the side of their for- 
 mer owners, they did not fight with the savage 
 thirst for blood, but with the " strength" of lions, 
 and with manly consciousness. The negro of 
 Brazil is not so stupid as he sometimes appears, 
 and the heart of a negro feels and suffers, at 
 times, more deeply than the hardened hearts of 
 white men. 
 
 This tolerance of the whites, and the setting 
 aside of all prejudice against color, so that a mu- 
 latto can as well become minister of state as a 
 Portuguese, is undeniably a cause and incite- 
 ment to moral and physical ennoblement, while 
 the negroes of other countries, who glory in 
 their " freedom," despised and treated like brutes 
 by the whites, become degraded below tha 
 brutes, to the disgrace of our century. 
 
 I close these fragmentary observations upon 
 the political relations of Brazil, with the remark 
 
 * Rio de Janeiro numbers iSO.OOOinhabitantfi, of whom 
 80,000 are wliite, the rest colored. (ia38.) 
 fFaniu
 
 108 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 that the constitutional monarchy, which at vari- 
 ous times has driven deputies from the chamber 
 with bayonets, and fired upon the representatives 
 of the people, has already provisionally planned 
 its own act of abdication, and has fired, in anti- 
 cipation, a salute over its own open grave. 
 
 The diplomatists of the European powers, and 
 their mercenary writers, may describe the situ- 
 ation of affairs to their courts as their politics 
 require ; they will not alter with their pens the 
 reality of facts, nor, at any future time, crush with 
 troops, landed from their ships of war, the repub- 
 lic, which grows like a caterpillar in its chry- 
 salis, and, like that symbol of life, awaits its hour 
 to break forth. 
 
 A people, whose country is the richest and 
 loveliest on earth — a people, whose patriotism 
 embraces such a paradise — a people, who, for 
 twenty years, have struggled for freedom, and 
 deluged the soil with their blood, have a right 
 to the blessings of liberty. And liberty is not 
 the monopoly of certain races of men — not a 
 blossom of certain zones. Brazil shall be free, 
 and become a free state of South America '" 
 
 APPENDIX TO THE ABOVE FRAGMENT 
 
 The republican insurrection of the 
 
 province of Rio Grande, which the royalists 
 ridicule, as an outbreak of " the infectious dis- 
 temper" that has crept in there from the neigh- 
 borhood of the Banda Oriental, was origin- 
 ally connected with the war of extermination 
 against the Portuguese and Britons in Para, 
 and with the proclamation of the republic in 
 Bahia, in July, 18.3.5. The enemy must, at 
 least, give to the negroes who fought at Bahia, 
 in connexion with the whites, the glorious tes- 
 timony, that it was with difficulty, and more by 
 accident than by tactics, that they succeeded in 
 burying the proclaimed republic alive for the 
 present. 
 
 Rio Grande, which is less mountain- 
 ous than the provinces near the equator, and, 
 lying outside of the torrid zone, is favored with 
 a mild climate, offers to its population inex- 
 haustible riches from agriculture and grazing, 
 and presents, in common with the southern pro- 
 vinces of South America gsnerally, a similarity 
 to the patriarchal world of ancient days. 
 
 From the early exchange of occupancy, the 
 Spanish national character is there found min- 
 gled with the Portuguese, while a great number 
 of Italians and Germans have likewise founded 
 there a new fatherland for themselves. 
 
 The recruiting for the Brazilian military ser- 
 vice, which was carried on in the north of Ger- 
 many, has, as is well known, since the year 
 1820, been the cause of the introduction of ship- 
 loads of white slaves* to Rio de Janeiro — a 
 traffic in men which is only distinguished from 
 the African slave trade by the difference in the 
 color of its subjects. The Brazilian government 
 avails itself of an officer from the south of Ger- 
 many as its principal agent, who even empties 
 whole penitentiaries, and ouys the prisoners of 
 the governments, for body guards to the Bra- 
 zilian court. 
 
 These "jail birds," and similar vagabonds, 
 
 * Eicraroi braTuot. — A nick-aame which the negroes 
 hcve glvBQ thorn. 
 
 were, however, dispersed amongst the great body 
 of troops, which, commanded likewise by Ger- 
 man officers, numbered among them many re- 
 spectable men, who deserved a better fate than 
 they found in Brazil, until they finally received 
 their dismissal, and a part of them settled in 
 Rio Grande. 
 
 The disbanding of these German troops forms 
 a tragical episode in the history of the monarchy 
 of a country, one of the richest on earth in gold 
 and silver^ but which had not once punctu- 
 ally paid their wages, even in paper money. 
 They shed their blood on credit, for the greater 
 part of them were sent to fight against the 
 republicans, in the southern and northern pro- 
 vinces, and there won the reputation of " brave 
 soldiers," while the equally brave Brazilians, 
 opposed to them, destroyed whole battalions, 
 and sent the rest back as invalids to Rio de 
 Janeiro. 
 
 After a fruitless campaign against Monte 
 Video, that ended with a chapter in which the 
 Brazilian government did not assume the most 
 brilliant position, a part of these troops returned 
 to Rio de Janeiro, just as a revolution again 
 broke out, in 1S2S — which %vas only suppressed, 
 with difficulty, by troops landed from European 
 vessels of war. These German regiments (all 
 creditors of the monarchy so rich in gold> 
 formed the centre of the insurgents ; and even 
 though the republican principle was not awaken- 
 ed in the hearts of many of them, the empty 
 stomach, at least, demanded its natural right, 
 and they fought with the courage of despair. 
 
 Similar events, which we find inscribed in 
 bloody paragraphs upon each leaf of the history 
 of Brazil, indicate the nullity of a monarchy 
 whose government, being a production of Eu- 
 ropean power, becomes a gold mine to the in- 
 triguers who know how to advance themselves to 
 its summit, and, with unexampled audacity, ruin 
 the state finances, while, with like audacity, 
 they increase their own. 
 
 tjnder such circumstances, it remains, evi- 
 dently, impossible for the most able and upright 
 men in Brazil, when summoned by the voice of 
 the people to a share in the government, to 
 overcome difficulties which the diplomatists of 
 European powers attribute, as a well known 
 consequence, to the free press, and to the studies 
 and travels of respectable Brazilians in France. 
 
 The influence of Austria and England upon 
 Brazil is the more powerful, from their having 
 two means at their command, the operation 
 of which is more dangerous, as they know how 
 to mask it : 
 
 Austria, which, in the year 1820, took under its 
 protection the Jesuits driven out of Russia, not 
 only seeks to extend the priestly government in 
 Brazil, through the influence of the dynasty, but 
 to hold the spirit of the people under bit and 
 bridle, by the establishment of Italian monastic 
 orders, under pretence of converting the savages, 
 without considering the impossibility of causing 
 the perpendicularity of the movement of the 
 progress of the times to "stand still." 
 
 England pursues, in her own manner, but with 
 more sagacity, the plan of a future sovereignty 
 over Brazil, since she not only obtains a tempo- 
 rary right, by financial speculations, and gains a 
 firm footing in Brazil by means of trade, but seeks 
 to extend her influence in the interior of the
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 109 
 
 country, by Missionaries of the English Church, 
 though this particular object often remains un- 
 known to many of the worthy missionaries 
 themselves. 
 
 Britannia, with the trident of Neptune in one 
 hand, and the bishop's pastoral staff' in the other, 
 evidently aims at the same spiritual sovereignty, 
 or, rather, at the same spiritual oppression, as 
 the Jesuits, whose intrigues she is in nowise 
 behind. 
 
 Upon these two elements is founded the rigid, 
 and every day increasing, intolerance of English 
 Protestantism against Catholicism, which last 
 mentioned faith, under the guardianship of the 
 Jesuits, has spread, in the transatlantic world, 
 from Canada to Buenos Ayres, but is less dan- 
 gerous to the principles of liberty in Brazil, since 
 the Romish Church has here undermined its own 
 credit, by the " scandalous chronicle " of the 
 priesthood. 
 
 In South America there are two extremes of 
 Catholic clergy : Men who have, long since, in 
 their hearts, renounced the worm-eaten " sacred 
 chair," and endeavor, on the contrary, to perfect 
 themselves by philosophical reading; and, on 
 the other hand, priests who are monuments of 
 ignorance and sensuality. 
 
 We find, in Brazil, numerous examples of 
 monks, in their monastic garbs, becoming mem- 
 Ders of the so called " secret societies," in whose 
 mysteries they, at least, '• seelc" the spirit of en- 
 lightenment and progress, as a thirsty man 
 presses to the fountain — though it is doubtful 
 whether the society to which they have recourse, 
 is able to offer them a spiritually strengthening 
 nectar. 
 
 It is a fact of pyschological^terest, that the 
 Brazilian, undeniably endowed^ith comprehen- 
 sive intellectual powers and natural strength of 
 judgement, eagerly receives a new system or a 
 new idea, and endeavors to examine it thor- 
 oughly, in proportion as he is removed from all 
 bigotry and religious fanaticism. The Brazilian 
 is passionate, and for want of a careful educa- 
 tion, is easily led astray by extravagance ; but 
 even his extravagances have in them a certain 
 spiritual noble side, and seldom degenerates into 
 meanness. 
 
 European teachers, who have found opportu- 
 nity to observe and examine the Brazilian youth 
 thoroughly, give brilliant testimony in relation 
 to their mental progress, with the remark, that a 
 young Brazilian is able to learn more in a month, 
 than some youth of another nation in a year — 
 the ardour of their characters showing itself in 
 a thirst for knowledge, but a certain levity, 
 equally natural, often leaving thrlm at a distance 
 from their goal. 
 
 Psycho! ogi9ts,who seek to trace the generations 
 of men from their origin, attribute this intellect- 
 ual geniality of the Brazilians to the impas- 
 sioned nature of their equally attractive and sus- 
 ceptible women, on the one hand, in happy 
 marriages, and on the other, in the social aber- 
 rations of those females who find themselves 
 deceived in their choice, and understand how to 
 satisfy the claims of the heart, where there has 
 been a marriage without love. 
 
 The monastic seclusion of the female sex in 
 family life, and their defective education in con- 
 Tents, only ihe more promotes the extravagance 
 of adventurous episodes, which the moralist lays 
 
 to the charge of the women, while they aro 
 founded for the most part upon the heartlessness 
 and the character of the man himself, who de- 
 grades the sacrament of marriage to the license 
 of his sensuality, who lies to a woman of love, 
 and leads her to the altar to have a wife. 
 
 The consequences of the irresponsible levity 
 with which a union is concluded, that is not 
 only to last for life, but aflects the existence of 
 a future generation, the most sacred condition of 
 the human race, stand forth more boldly in the 
 tropical flower-world of Brazil, than in many 
 other countries. 
 
 While Hinango read these fragments on Bra- 
 zil, (which we should not have inserted here, 
 but that each remark has a direct or indirect 
 reference to the development and summing up 
 of our narrative,) the pampero howled through 
 the rigging of the Nordstjernan, as it followed 
 the Mazzini, which now disappeared in a trough 
 of the sea, and then, lifted on high by a foaming 
 wave billow, seemed to float in the air until 
 night came on, when Barigaldi sent up a rocket, 
 from time to time, as a sign that he kept on his 
 course in spite of the pampero. 
 
 — ■W^^^^^^^./S^^^.'^..^.— 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SLAVERY AND LOVE. 
 
 We leave the two vessels on their course, be- 
 ing called, by the events of our history, to far 
 distant places, on the western declivity of one of 
 those colossal chains of mountains, from five to 
 six thousand feet above the level of the sea, 
 which pass through Brazil from the south to the 
 north, in unbroken elevations, for many hundred 
 miles in length. 
 
 These mountains form, in some places, sloping 
 table lands, (campos,) and in others, valleys oS 
 proportionable extent, intersected by numerous 
 rivers, and countless forest streams. On the 
 abovementioned declivity were situated many 
 fazendas, upon natural terraces of miles in 
 width, surrounded by the tropical luxuriance 
 of a flourishing vegetation. 
 
 The sun had almost ended his apparent daily 
 course, from right to left, in the northern hemi- 
 sphere, and cast his glowing rays upon the equally 
 picturesque and gigantic chain of mountains. 
 .Some of the naked rocky summits glittered in 
 singular shapes, while others were gloomily 
 separated from them, in broad shadowy masses. 
 The light blue, transparent horizon, unknown in 
 Europe, whose atmosphere shows plainly to the 
 naked eye, objects at a distance of miles, and 
 forms that airy perspective, the outlines of which 
 we see so sharply defined in Chinese painting, 
 and which, true to nature, embraces the charac- 
 teristics of a tropical landscape. 
 
 These naked masses of rocks were lost, some 
 hundred feet further down, in the endlessly di- 
 versified extent of mountain summits, clothed 
 with the primitive forest, down to a third gra- 
 dation of the stupendous edifice of nature. 
 
 In these latter, lower, earth regions of the mciun- 
 tains of Brazil, the eternal creative sculptural
 
 110 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 power, appears to have chosen the cone as its fa- 
 vorite form, and has placed, as if for picturesque 
 grouping, af various distances, isolated sugar-loaf 
 shaped granite hlocks, some thousand feet high, 
 and likewise partly decorated with luxuriant 
 foliage, which serve as mile stones for the trav- 
 eller. 
 
 These grand conical masses, of various sizes, 
 singly form, as it were, tlie fore ground of a land- 
 scape, or the middle point of a panorama, whose 
 description would overstep the limits of poetic 
 narration. 
 
 " We will then go into Madame Fesh's, at 
 the next fazenda. If you like, Senor Capitao, I 
 will let my mules rest there for an hour, and then 
 go on a couple of miles, to Villa Tasso, to our 
 Signore Serafini's, where I hope to meet Mr. 
 Dujour. You will remain to-night at Madame 
 Fesh's, as if we had no understanding with 
 each other, and then come early in the morning, 
 and get possession of his person." These words 
 were spoken by an European, in the ordinary 
 dress of a Mineiro,* consisting of a velvet jacket, 
 a broad brimmed straw hat, a light vest, and 
 linen pantaloons, the lower part of which were 
 covered with high buckskin boots, with heavy 
 silver spurs ; he was riding on a mule, near a 
 man in uniform, whom he called captain ; the 
 latter was a Brazilian officer of the permanen- 
 tos, which were distributed in small numbers in 
 the different military stations, (De^tacamentos) 
 in the interior of the country, serving as gens 
 d'armes, and occasionally for the apprehension 
 of "suspected persons," or faroupilhas. 
 
 Besides these main duties, the Permanentos 
 gave protection and succour to every loyal sub- 
 ject of the government, especially when they 
 helped to sustain public order by the espionage 
 and denunciation of patriots. 
 
 The officer, whose rank %vas that of lieutenant, 
 was well pleased with the title of captain, as he 
 was of Portuguese descent, and possessed the 
 desire for titles, and the anxious servility that 
 characterizes the " woodenshoed aristocracy" of 
 that nation, which they imbibe with their 
 mother's milk. He longed for nothing more 
 earnestly, than to wear the red riband of the or- 
 der of Santo Christ, in his buttonhole before 
 he died, that the cross might be paraded on his 
 coffin. 
 
 " I like your plan Senhor Luiz,"t he replied, 
 " but it seems to me more suitable, not to go 
 quite so early in the morning, at least not until 
 the negroes are at work on the plantation. I 
 have, it is true, thirty men with me, but — Senhor 
 Serafini is probably sufficiently supplied with 
 arms — and there might be resistance — blood- 
 shed — which 1 wish to avoid." 
 
 " I understand you Senhor Capitao — ^just as 
 you please — come to-morrow about ten o'clock, 
 and then they will not be so apt to suspect me of 
 having met you, and travelled some days in your 
 company." 
 
 A man on horseback trotted up behind the 
 two travellers, and informed them that some of 
 the negroes had got sore feet, and, therefore, 
 could not follow so rapidly. This was Mr. Nols, 
 the servant of the European, who, at the 
 
 •Inhabitant of the province of Minas Geraes, 
 t The Brazilians ill tlicirfamiUar intercourse, generally 
 lall eacb other b/ their Christain names 
 
 same time, performed the duties of any Arreiro 
 de la tropa, (leader of the caravan,) and as Toc- 
 cadero,* or driver. *' Lay on the chigote (whip) 
 and cut them as much as is necessary to make 
 them trot!" replied Mr. Louis. What possesses 
 you, to come to me just now with such informa- 
 tion, as if you were leading an expedition for the 
 first time ?" 
 
 " But their feet bleed at every step, Mr. Clos- 
 ting. Pardon my replying. Some of these new 
 ones from Africa can, in fact, hardly stand, much 
 less walk." 
 
 " That may be — but they must — at least they 
 must be at the fazenda yonder, at the Italian's, 
 in an hour and a half from this time. Use the 
 chigote, and follow after us." 
 
 "The officer looked back upon the caravan, 
 at the head of which followed his soldiers, whose 
 march was as painful as that of the slave mer- 
 chant's negroes. The most of these permanentos 
 went barefoot, and carried their shoes hanging 
 upon their bayonets. The greater part of them 
 were recruits, natives of the country, of all co- 
 lors, from the blackest negro up to the tawny 
 white Brazilian, intermixed with Mamelucos,t 
 and some "civilized Botocudos." A spencer and 
 pantaloons, with what is called a " bonnet de 
 police," (uniform cap,) a sabre and cartridge 
 box, and a rolled up " capote," which served 
 them as a bed at night — was their whole equip- 
 ment. To the most of these poor devils of the 
 armed force of the empire, who had gone bare- 
 foot through life from their childhood, the wear- 
 ing of the heavy commissary shoes was a real 
 misery, and plainly hindered their " progress" in 
 military civilizaUon. 
 
 After the firswain attempts to march in shoes, 
 bad covered their feet with sores, and blisters, 
 " they chose the least of two evils," and limped 
 over sand, and gravel, and rough pieces of rock, 
 like the negroes of the slave merchant in their 
 company, marching barefooted, and marking 
 many of their footsteps with their blood ; but 
 they knew the supple leathern instrument at the 
 saddle of their ofhcer, and dared not complain 
 in the least, either to their arreiro on horseback, 
 or to their corporal toccadero, like the new ne- 
 groes from Africa, who were as yet but partially 
 acquainted with the customs and whip usages of 
 Brazil. 
 
 " In case we meet the grimpeiro,{ Mr. Du- 
 jour, at Sr. Serafini's," continued Mr. Clost- 
 ing, as they again rode forward alone, " I beg 
 you will not speak to him of the affair, as if I 
 had come to the knowledge of it through him. 
 The suspicion qf a communication with the au- 
 thorities falls naturally upon him, and it is not 
 impossible that the revenge of the faroupilhas, 
 will be extended to him. You see, captain, that 
 I hazard my life, out of loyalty, from pure roy- 
 alist sentiments." 
 
 " I acknowledge it," replied the other, " and 
 shall know in what terms to speak of you in 
 my report to Rio de Janeiro." 
 
 " But be, guarded in your expressions, captain ! 
 
 •A Brazilian caravan (tropa) generally consist* of 
 
 from twenty to twenty-five loaded mules, seven of which 
 
 are driven by one toccadero. 
 f A mixed race, derived from the Indians and whites 
 J Grimpeiros. — People who search for gold mines, and 
 
 wasli geU dust without informing the gcers- *., ai 
 
 required by law.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Ill 
 
 be guarded," interrupted the informer; "letters 
 do not go safely here, and if your report should 
 fall into the wrong hands," 
 
 " Do not concern yourself on that account, 
 my report goes by the military escort, which 
 will accom[)any the prisoner. " 
 
 In thus conversing, the two riders approached 
 the first fazenda which lay in their road, it was 
 a good sized stone building, with an airy sort of 
 front hall, generally used by the family as a 
 sitting room. The terriffic howl of a negro, 
 under corporeal chastisement, resounded through 
 the solemn stillness of the twilight, wliich 
 threw, as it were, a purple veil over the ro- 
 mantic scenery around, before its hasty passage 
 into night. The diversified chattering, the 
 monkeys hopping about from twig to twig, some- 
 times screaming like the cries of a person in 
 distress, sounded like a living echo to these fear- 
 ful notes of despair, and awakened the iliscor- 
 dant laughter of the parrots in the distant thick- 
 ets of the gigantic forest. 
 
 Without taking the least notice of this daily 
 occurring howl of chastisement, the two travel- 
 lers fastened their mules to the stakes of an out- 
 building of the fazenda, several of which were 
 built in such a manner as to form a roomy court- 
 yard between them, and were used as the dwell- 
 ings of the negroes, and for household purposes. 
 
 A white man, in performing the duties of 
 the principal overseer of the widow, received 
 the two guests, and gave their mules in charge 
 to some negroes. 
 
 *' Our tropa will take up their lodgings here 
 for the night," remarked the captain. " My peo- 
 ple must give no one here any trouble ; I have 
 already given the necessary orders." 
 
 The tropa of the naturalist, who traversed 
 the country as both slave merchant, and jicdler, 
 consisted often mules, laden with various kinds 
 of merchandise, and a liorde of sixteen negroes 
 and five negresses, likewise merchandise for 
 sale. 
 
 Mr. Nols, the arreiro, rode up to the build- 
 ing, and received his instructions for the ap- 
 proaching night, which he, like his negroes, in 
 case they remained there, would have to pass 
 under the open sky, unless, by the hospitality of 
 the overseer, he should be allowed to sleep in 
 some corner of an outhouse. 
 
 " Has not Banko come yet ?" inquired Mr. 
 Closting of the arreiro. 
 
 " He is coming down this way ; I heard him 
 swearing just now ; he is not far off;" replied 
 Mr. Nois. 
 
 Banko was a German student, whom the 
 celebrated naturalist had engaged as secretary, 
 and brought out to Brazil, at his (Mr. Banko's) 
 expense, on his last voyaga to Euiope, as quasi 
 envoy extraordinary, where he assumed all sorts 
 of Brazilian titles. 
 
 " Have you collected your usual number of 
 butterflies, to-day ?" inquired Mr. Closting, of 
 the youth, who now approached in torn gar- 
 ments, and was almost burnt to a mulatto by the 
 sun. " I shall examine them early in the morn- 
 ing — and if they are again worthless stuff, then 
 I shall have something more to say to you," he 
 added, without waiting for a reply. 
 
 " I neither in Diisseldorf nor Antwerp sub- 
 scribed a contract to collect butterflies for you, 
 not to mention a stipulated number," replied 
 
 Mr. Banko, whose countenance, embrowned as 
 it was with the sun, showed an evident expres- 
 sion of European cultur* and youthful unre- 
 serve. 
 
 " You at length undertake to reply to me, in 
 an insolent manner ?" said the naturalist, raising 
 his grufl' voice. " Do you not forget that you are 
 in Brazil, and that we have here as good prisons 
 f»r ' fantastical subjects' as in Europe .'" 
 
 " If all the Europeans in Brazil should be 
 imprisoned, who deserve it, without being ' fan- 
 tastical' subjects, there would soon be nu empty 
 cells," replied the slave trader's secretary. 
 
 " Scoundrel ! do you dare to say that to me 
 in the presence of a Brazilian oflScer ?" 
 
 " He hardly understands German," interrupted 
 the other ; *' if you desire it, however, 1 can re- 
 peat it to him in Portuguese." 
 
 The answer to tins remark, was a severe blow 
 on the face, which the poor German student 
 was compelled to take as the delayed postscript 
 of the letters by which Mr. Closting had en- 
 gaged him in Europe " for scientific purposes." 
 
 " Captain, let this fellow be guarded to-night 
 by your troop," said he, before the youth could 
 come to his recollection, and who had just 
 grasped his dagger, as some hobbling permanen- 
 tos, at the order of the captain, pulled him back- 
 ward before he had drawn his weapon from the 
 sheath. 
 
 " Mr. Closting !" he now exclaimed, suddenly 
 recovering himself, and perceiving instantly the 
 consequences which an immediate ebullition in 
 defence of his injured honor would undoubtedly 
 draw upon him. " Mr. Closting, remember this : 
 I endure your ill usage, but 1 shall not forget it ; I 
 will take my opportunity to obtain personal 
 satisfaction." 
 
 The prisoner disappeared behind the house- 
 hold buildings, and the two cavaliers now fol- 
 lowed the howl of the person under chastise- 
 ment, which had continued without intermis- 
 sion. 
 
 They entered the verandah of the dwelling 
 house, and beheld Me. Fesh upon a low chair, 
 with a slate on her knees, near a wax light, pro- 
 tected from the wind by means of a glass shade. 
 She was a robust, corpulent woman, about forty 
 years old, with coarse features, and a still coarser 
 expression. Her light hair hung in uncoufined 
 locks upon her yellowish brown neck. She 
 counted and noted down, with a grim smile, the 
 blows which a white man, her cousin, slowly 
 laid on the unfortunate victim of her savage an- 
 ger, while she held a watch, with second hands, 
 in her left hand, and gave him a sign every time 
 he was to strike.* 
 
 The laws of esthetics will not permit us to take 
 a look at the particulars of this bloody scene — 
 but we must not leave, unobserved, tlu'ee black 
 corpses, which lay at a distance from the veran- 
 dah, over the balustrade of which was extended 
 the unfortunate slave, quivering with convul- 
 sive agony. One was the corpse of a young 
 Mosambique female, of noble form, whose figure 
 was like one of the antique group of Niobe, 
 which is so frequently peculiar to the Ethio- 
 pian. Near her lay the corpse of a youth of the 
 same race, as regularly formed; and not far from 
 
 ♦ This, like flo many other scenes of this novel, is en 
 tirely true, and is describei as it actually occurred.
 
 113 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 them, the body of a robust negjro, from one of 
 those tribes which dwell near the equator, in 
 Africa, who, little favored by nature, possess 
 countenances as " black as night," and whose 
 bony frames cannot serve as models of manly 
 beauty. 
 
 " Is that you, Mr. Closting?" said the white 
 widow, at length, after she had, without inter- 
 rupting her tale, already cast several glances it 
 the two guests ; " I hardly knew you again — 
 come nearer, I shall soon be through. One hun- 
 dred and forty-three," said she, in a low voice, to 
 herself, and wrote some figures on the slate. " I 
 should wonder if he outlives the last seven. 
 Give it to him a little slower ! not before I tell 
 you !" she called out to the white torturer, and 
 then counted, with long pauses, after the minute 
 hands of the watch. The negro groaned, evi- 
 dently in the last agony, while the heavy chigote 
 (which bears a family resemblance to the Rus- 
 sian kantschu) wound itself, at each blow, round 
 his body, and lacerated it in its tenderest parts. 
 The hundred and fifty lashes, which his inhu- 
 man owner had appointed this evening for the 
 slave's second dose, (after he had received the 
 same number in the morning,) was counted. A 
 negro now brought, at her command, spirits of 
 wine and pepper, to rub on the open and bleed- 
 ing wounds, which nearly covered the whole 
 body. 
 
 The howl of the sufferer exceeded all human 
 imagination ; and whoever has not witnessed a 
 similar scene, nor heard a sound of similar hor- 
 ror, to the disgrace of humanity, would scarcely 
 be able to follow a description, which we avoid 
 from consideration for the feelings of the reader. 
 The fearful howl died away in hollow groans, 
 and the rattling of the scarcely breathing chest, 
 which gradually became fainter and weaker. 
 The rope, with vThich the half expiring body had 
 been fastened, was loosed. A young negress 
 pushed the man with the pungent restoratives 
 aside, as soon as the mistress went away. She 
 covered the dying man with a wet sheet, brought 
 a garden watering pot, and sprinkled him, while 
 another held vinegar and water to his lips, which 
 did not move. 
 
 " There lie, now, my two contos ;* yes, if I 
 say two contos and four hundred millreis,t at 
 least," said Me. Fesh to her guests, as she 
 stepped into the room, of which the open door 
 and window shutters, without glass windows, 
 communicated with the verandah. " May Satan 
 take them all ! the damned black beasts ! Is it 
 not enough to craze one, to live in this cursed 
 country .'" She then threw herself into an arm 
 chair, gathered up her coarse hair, and en- 
 deavored to bind it with a handkerchief 
 
 " What has happened to you, Madame ?" in- 
 quired Mr. C'lostin,g, who was seated by a table, 
 set with wine and other refreshments, which the 
 intendant, according to the custom of the coun- 
 try, had already provided. 
 
 " What has happened to me ?" screamed the 
 lady of the house, gritting her teeth. " 1 will 
 tell you It is infamous — unheard of ! Negroes 
 are all the time becoming dearer, the importation 
 of them is becoming more and more difficult, and 
 I must take care that my growing children 
 
 • A conto d'rei3, is five hundred dollars. 
 
 t Four hundred miUreis— two hundred dollan. 
 
 inherit a sufficient number. I hare now fonr 
 negresses who bring me, every year, a young one 
 Mulacks*, I tell you, black as ebony, and nearly 
 all from one father — from Pluto, the robust fellow 
 who lies there a corpse ! Nearly all from him ! 
 And so, some months ago, I bought him another 
 pretty black creature — Anastasia — a real model 
 of beauty; smooth, I tell you, like black mar- 
 ble ! and I wished to give her to Pluto, and she 
 refused ! Only think — she refused ! 1 observed, 
 then, a young Mosambique, who had come from 
 Africa with her, whom I had bought at the same 
 time; I saw, in fine, that he liked her, and she 
 him — also, that they were a love pair. So I 
 locked them in together, but nothing came 
 of it ; and then I agreed with Pluto that ha 
 should have Anastasia, in spite of her refusal, 
 and gave Antinous, the lover of Anastasia, for a 
 time, to the Frenchman, over there, who wanted 
 to hire a negro, and agreed with him that he 
 should lock up Antinous securely at night. But 
 what does Antinous do .' Neither lock nor key 
 were of any avail; he ran away at night, and 
 lay, as I was told, before the chamber below 
 there, where I had locked in Anastasia with 
 Pluto ; and there he lay, and heard what was to 
 be heard. And what did he do ? He burst, like 
 a madman, through the window, that Anastasia, 
 perhaps intentionally, had not bolted on the 
 inside; he sprang in upon them, I tell you. 
 And what did he do .' He stabbed his friend, hi.i 
 beloved, his wife, as he called her, Anastasia, 
 and he stabbed Pluto, and then himself, last 
 night. Last night he stabbed them and himself, 
 and there lie the corpses ! There lie my two 
 contos — my two contos and a half.' What do 
 you say to that, Mr. Closting .'" 
 
 " Nothing else, than that I could have told you 
 beforehand how the song would end, my good Me. 
 Fesh, for I have had much experience in these 
 matters. The same case which has happened to 
 you, occurred, with nearly the same symptoms 
 throughout, and the same crisis, in Rio de Ja- 
 neiro, sometime since, and in my neigborhood, in 
 Maranham, where a white man played the part 
 of Pluto ; the black lover murdered him upon 
 the bed of the one he called his beloved. I know 
 a third case of the sort, where a negress killed 
 herself, when she was given to a ' Pluto ;' instead 
 of yielding to him, she stabbed herself Yes, 
 yes. Me. Fesh, these cattle are jealous, and feel 
 love ! if one may use the word for cattle ! As the 
 parental love of monkeys has become proverbial, 
 we may far more justly make the love of the 
 negro proverbial. If they once feel love, it only 
 expires with their lives." 
 
 " Stupid stuff!" replied Me. Fesh, after a 
 pause; "Stupid stuff! love! what is love .' Is it 
 not all the same to such a creature, whether this 
 or that one satisfies her — then one of those cat- 
 tle is a woman for all, and can obtain what she 
 desires — it is all the same from whom !" Me. 
 Fesh certainly did not reflect that she contra- 
 dicted herself by acknowledging the %vomanly 
 nature of the so called cattle, which she appeared 
 to deny. 
 
 " Do you suppose that I would have stabbed 
 myself twenty years ago, when I was married," 
 continued she. " I was ;iot asked whom I would 
 marry, and it was all the same to me. My pa- 
 
 * A word used instead of ne£^.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ui 
 
 hents gave me a husband, who possessed a hand- 
 some fortune, and when I first learnt to know 
 any thing of matrimony, I found rny lot very 
 comfortable. What you say about love, Mr. 
 Closting, is stupid nonsense. How can such 
 cattle feel it, when I have experienced no such 
 sensation ?" 
 
 " You must consider," interrupted the natu- 
 ralist, *'tliat the negroes, of both sexes, are mere 
 children of nature, and that love is a nervous 
 disease, a matter of sentiment, which disajipears 
 among us whites, the more we advance in civili- 
 zation. Love is a disease madame I a disease of 
 the nerves ; and in the female sex, it is subject 
 to the influence of the moon. 1 have made phy- 
 siological observations, and have had sufficient 
 proof on that subject. Love is, however, a very 
 dangerous nervous disease, if it is not overcome 
 in time, and that is often difficult, especially 
 with the negroes, who are very nervous. Cor- 
 pulent people are seldom attacked by this dis- 
 ease. The more thickly the nerves are cush- 
 ioned over, the more they are protected against 
 external impressions and inward emotions, that 
 is perfectly natural. The only effectual remedy 
 against love is civiiization, which supersedes 
 sentiment, and makes it ridiculous. Among 
 civilized people, this disease does not last long, 
 and may be reclconcd according to northern or 
 southern climates. The love of a civilized wo- 
 man, under the influence of the moon, endures 
 in the south only about two months — hardly two 
 months ; in the north, somewhat longer, but sel- 
 dom three full moons !" 
 
 " Thank heaven !" said the lady, " that I have 
 never been afllicted with this disease. I had a 
 husband — he is now in heaven — who suited me 
 in every respect, and I lived very happy with 
 him, night and day. I have had eleven chil- 
 dren, five of whom are living. The world says, 
 to be sure, that I used my husb.md ill, and wor- 
 ried him into his grave. Let the world talk ; it 
 is nothing but envy, sheer envy, in other women, 
 who would be glad to have had" as many children. 
 But I must take cave, Mr. C'losting, to have 
 young mulacks for my children ; and there lie 
 the corpses, and my Pluto is murdered. iVIay 
 the devil take tlie cursed ApoUino, who had his 
 hand in the pie !" 
 
 " You mean the negro to whom you have just 
 counted out his reckoning?" inquired Mr. 
 Ciosting. 
 
 " The same — ApoUino, I mean. Only imagine, 
 he did not let loose my two great bloodliounds, 
 ' Blackman ' and ' Nigger," in the night, when 
 all this happened ; my two large chained blood- 
 ho'uuls, who would have torn Antinous as soon 
 as he sprang over the garden wall. And his 
 consent, his black love service, shall cost him, 
 also, his life. Three and a half contos lie there 
 in blood, and it is all tlie same to me if I lose 
 six or seven hundred millreis more. He shall 
 die ! If he is alive, he shall receive his hundred 
 and fiftv early in the morning ! the infamous, 
 mis.'vable kabendo ! that ApoUino !" 
 
 " Then I have come as if sent for," began the 
 slave trader, after a pause ; " I have with me 
 the most admirable samples of the male and 
 female sexes ; you can replace your loss imme- 
 diately. I will sell them at a moderate price ; 
 we will review them early in the morning. 
 Apropos !" said he, interrupting himself, while 
 
 15 
 
 he turned to the officer, who sat very quietly 
 refreshing himself at the table, and consuming, 
 with a good appetite, bread, and cheese, and 
 bananas, and wine : 
 
 " Apropos, captain, concerning our affair. I 
 will, then, immediately ride on to Villa Tasso, 
 and leave my tropa here, and come back again, 
 since 1 can make a trade here. As to the" fel- 
 low whom I placed in your charge as a prisoner, 
 have the goodness to keep him safely to-night, 
 and set him at liberty in the morning, when you 
 break up. Hand him over to my arreiro, JJoU. 
 It is now nearly seven o'clock ; I shall be at 
 Villa Tasso by half-past eight, and that will be 
 soon enough. I hope Mr. Dujour will be there, 
 waiting for me." 
 
 " Very well. I give my full consent to the 
 arrangement that we have spoken of," whis- 
 pered the officer ; " but will you ride alone :" 
 
 " I shall take one of my negroes with ine, and 
 shall be here again in the morning. My tropa 
 can rest themselves. Good night, then. We 
 shall meet in the morning, at ten o'clock, at 
 Villa Tasso." 
 
 The officer accompanied the " confidant of the 
 police" to the verandah, where Me. Fesh had 
 just received the intelligence that ApoUino was 
 no mtjre. 
 
 Curse after curse flowed from her angry lips ; 
 she did not seem so embittered hy the loss, which 
 she had evidently designed, as at the marred 
 pleasure of taking her slate upon her knee, and 
 the watch in her hand, and counting a hundred 
 and fifty, the next morning. Without returning 
 Mr. Closting's farewell, she went on, and at 
 length burst into tears over the loss of the throe 
 contos, and some hundred millreis, and ordered 
 the bodies of the four cattle to be buried in a 
 lllth}' corner of the court. 
 
 Isabenda, the young negress who had tried to 
 soothe the w'ounds of the dying man by cooling 
 applications, after a while, tremblingly ap- 
 proached her raging mistress, and, with down- 
 cast eyes, informed her that the corner of the 
 court was rocky ground, and that it would be 
 very difficult to bury the bodies there, since the 
 rocks must first be blasted. 
 
 " Then bury them, in the devil's name ! some- 
 where in the road, out there ; where you will- 
 so that I do not see the dead beasts in tha 
 morning." 
 
 Isabenda's deceit had gained her object ; she 
 dared to run the risk of her mistress discovering 
 the incorrectness of her statement, for it certainly 
 was not so difficult to dig a grave in that place ; 
 but her womanly heart, though in a dark colored 
 body, risked ill treatment, and even death, 
 which she might, also, meet in a similar man- 
 ner as it had snatched away her lover. She 
 acted according to her pure and deeply wounded 
 feelings, for she lost a friend in Anastasia, and a 
 lover in ApoUino. 
 
 The narrow mindct'ness, and insensibility of 
 the mistress of the house, who considered noth- 
 ing but her strong box, and saw nothing that 
 could not be touched with the hand, did not per- 
 mit her to look into the heart of a black, espe- 
 cially as she could with difficulty have suspect- 
 ed even an emiotion of such sentiments in the 
 heart of a white person, since she, like every 
 body else, judged others by herself, and was not 
 able to think of any higher grade of feeling, or
 
 114 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 of mind, than the low one apon which she her- 
 self vegetated. 
 
 Isabenda quickly departed, and hurried back 
 to her Ci'iends, who, standing round the bodies in 
 the unclean place, looked forward witli anxious 
 expectation to the result of the experiment 
 planned by them. Instead of giving tlie an- 
 swer of the white fury in words, she sunk 
 down, with tears and sobs, by Apollino's corpse. 
 The black bondsmen of the European lady 
 stood around, in numerous groups, from tlie old- 
 est greybeai'd to the youngest child. Sympathy 
 with the fearful fate of the victims, and sup- 
 pressed feelings of vengeance against the Chris 
 tian murderess, had assembled them to the burial 
 to the last service of love, from their human, feel 
 ing hearts. They all gazed silently upon Isa^ 
 benda, beholding in the oijjburst of her grief, a 
 denial of her righteous wish, which none of 
 them would have had the courage to express. 
 None dared to utter a question. Isabenda sud- 
 denly rose, and gave them to understand, by a 
 sign, that they were to take up the bodies and 
 follow her. She then hurried before them out of 
 the court, across the road, to a hill, where a sin- 
 gle palm tree reared its majestic head. 
 
 " Here ! here !" she whispered in a trembling 
 voice, anxiously looking back at the fazenda, as 
 if she feared that the cursing voice of the white 
 fury would yet reach her before the work should 
 be fulfilled. " Here ! but make haste," she re- 
 peated, and desired them to dig a large grave for 
 three bodies, and a separate one for the corpse of 
 Pluto. 
 
 The burial was completed in deathlike si- 
 lence. The numerous hands, old and young, fur- 
 nished with mattocks and spades from the fa- 
 zenda, and urged on by sympathizing zeal, did 
 not require much time; the graves were filled, 
 and the piled up turf covered the place of rest. 
 All now knelt in a circle around the graves, as 
 silently as they had accomplislied their labor of 
 love. According to the vai-jous customs of the 
 Ethiopian tribes, some crossed their arms over 
 their heads towards the firmament. The senti- 
 ment of their bleeding hearts was involuntary 
 prayer, although, perhaps, not in the forms of a 
 spiritless " wrapper to heaven," or even of 
 another religious book of service, which Me. 
 Fesh bought of a peddling missionary, and gave 
 to her amiable children, for the explanation of 
 their Christian treatment towards the " negro 
 cattle." 
 
 Feaiing that if they remained long absent 
 some harm might be done to the fresh graves of 
 the victims, all but Isabenda returned within 
 the boundaries of tlie court. Consoled in her 
 anguish by the success of her bold resolution — 
 consoled, if consolation for such grief is to be 
 found on earth — she lingered alone by the grave 
 of her beloved, who, althoui^h a despised negro 
 slave, had sacrificed himself from brotherly love 
 for a youth like himself, because iie lionored the 
 power of that love in his friend, whicli he felt in 
 the same degree in himself, and which he bore 
 to his grave. 
 
 The moon rose ab.we the distant chain of 
 mountains in the east, and lighted the tear be- 
 dewed countenance of a woman, who, though 
 despised by Christians, might, by her virtues and 
 love, shame many Christians, since her heart was 
 not yet laid waste by European " civilization." 
 
 CHAPTER IT. 
 
 ARREST ATTD PI.tr!rDEH. 
 
 V11.LA Tasso was built upon one of the before- 
 mentioned terraces, which were formed by the 
 collossal mas-ses of granite composing the third 
 gradation of the mountains, and whose varied 
 valleys, partly covered with the richest layers of 
 earth, produced the most flourishing vegetation. 
 
 The main building was erected in the middle 
 of the last century, by the ancestors of the [ires- 
 ent owner of the extensive plantation. It was 
 built in the Italian style, with high stories, and 
 spacious saloons and cliambers, with covered 
 verandahs, on the balustrades of which was seen, 
 here and there, the luxuriant foliage of an orange 
 tree, while gigantic mangoes, Barbadoes cedars, 
 jacarandas,* palm trees, and other ornaments 
 of a tropical landscape, reached to the height 
 of the roof, and rustled coolly, with their shady, 
 fanlike branches, in the chambers of the upper 
 stories. Many rooms of the first story afforded a 
 beautiful prospect over a level space of many 
 hundred square miles, whose hills and valleys 
 oftered an inexhaustible multiplicity and variety 
 of the most idyllian and magnificent natural 
 scenes, from the distant horizon to the surround- 
 ing foreground. 
 
 In a room which fronted the east, simply fur- 
 nished, after the European fashion, the verandah 
 of which was peculiarly favored with similar 
 prospects, sat Signore* Sirafini, at breakfast, 
 with his family, which was also partaken by 
 some of the officers of his plantation, and by Mr. 
 Closting and Mr. Dujour, who had agreed to 
 meet each other at Villa Tasso. 
 
 Although the family of Serafini had lived in 
 Brazil for several generations, they still passed 
 for Italian, since the language and customs were 
 handed down from father to son, united with a 
 love of art in all its branches. 
 
 Several valuable oil paintings of the ancient 
 Italian masters decorated the saloon, and vari- 
 ous musical instruments pointed out the villa 
 as the asylum of harmony, in this corner of the 
 earth so remote from " civilization." 
 
 Carlo Serafini was a young man, not yet thirty 
 years old, blessed in domestic happiness by the 
 sacred bond of love, and considered the wealth 
 inherited by him from his father, as a gift ol 
 Providence, by which he felt himself the more 
 pledged to become useful to mankind, as far as 
 lay in his power. 
 
 Notwithstanding his predilection for the na- 
 tion from which he originated, he passed among 
 his country people, the Brazilians, for one of 
 the most decided patriots, as had been the case 
 with his ancestors. 
 
 The susceptibility for the beautiful, the love 
 of art that introduces the mind of man to an in- 
 ner world, which, separated in a greater or loss 
 degree from outward life, gives the spirit a 
 higher direction towards the perception of the 
 great and the sublime, had been handed down in 
 the family. In accordance with this inheritance 
 the element prevailed, in which alone this spirit 
 is able to unfold itself, the element of moral free- 
 
 ♦ Rosewood tree, 
 t Portuguese, Senhor ; Spanish, Senor ; Italian, ,Sig 
 nore; Ihcprouunciatioais nearly the same.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 115 
 
 (SoSr.. With socli endowments, the " man" was 
 developed in Serafini, in the noblest sense of the 
 word, in tlie consciousness of the duty of patri- 
 otism. Sufficiently notorious as one of the most 
 Kealous Faroupilhas of Brazil, he took no lesS' 
 interest in the events of Europe, and especially 
 in the striii^sles of the country of his fathers- — 
 in Italy's spirited and bloody struggles for na- 
 tionality and freedom. 
 
 " If you have letters to be despatched to 
 Italy," said Mr. Closting, in conversation at 
 breakfast, " yuu nu>;lit only to confide tliem to 
 tne — 1 mean, es|)eciaUy, such letters as are of 
 more importance than business correspondence. 
 You know who 1 am ; you know my sentiments 
 in relation to politics." 
 
 " I thank you, Senlior Luiz," replied the 
 other ; ** 1 have, indeed, known you for years, 
 as a naturalist, and negro trader, and tradessnan. 
 I am much obliged to you, and will take tlie op- 
 portunity to avail myself of your passing tlirough 
 -— •. How does it happen," said he, turning to 
 the other guest, evidently wishing to introduce 
 another subject, " how does it hap|)en, Mr. Du- 
 jour, that your fatlier calls himself Daily, and 
 you bear a sort of translation of the name into 
 French ? Pardon me this indiscretion, is it your 
 Stepfather who is called so .'" 
 
 " My father," said Dujour, (a man whose ex- 
 terior indicated nothing peculiar,) " My father 
 married when an emigrant in England, in the 
 beginning of the year '90, and found it conve- 
 nient, under peculiar family circumstances, to 
 translate his name, Dujour, into English, though, 
 perhajjs, not very literally. I retained this 
 name dui-ing my first marriage, from which a 
 son inherited it, w"ho is now in a mercantile 
 house in Buenos Ayres ; and when I took my 
 second wife, a very patriotic French woman, I 
 looked up our old family papers, and made use 
 of the French name, in judicial form, in Bahia, 
 where I then lived " 
 
 " You are, then, married a second time ?" 
 inquired Sra. .Serafini, who, with maternal ten- 
 derness, was endeavoring to feed, from a spoon, 
 a beautiful boy, that she had lately weaned. 
 
 " I was married a second time," replied Mr. 
 Dujour ; " but, alas ! my second wife died in her 
 first childbed, and 1 am a widower again. An 
 unlucky planet seems to hover over me and mv 
 family," siglied he, as he shelled a banana, and 
 then, sunk in reflection, laid it out of his hand 
 again. " My father, you probably know, SeKora 
 —my father is — infirm in intellect ; in a situation 
 that I would rather not touch upon further. 
 Gold cannot bring happiness ; on the contrary, I 
 feel that the mines of Brazil have rather increased 
 than lessened the miseries of mankind." 
 
 The lady of the house had too much delicacy 
 of feeling to inquire further after the sufferings 
 of old Dujour. " Certainly," replied she, after 
 a pause ; " certainly the mania for seeking gold 
 and making money, wiiich comes upon so many 
 men here like a disease of the climate, leads, in 
 general, to no earthly happiness ; at least, we 
 seldom see an example of a grimpeiro staying his 
 thirst for gold-water, content himself with a 
 modest income, and retiring to re|)ose in some 
 place wliere he may enjoy life, which here, in 
 tJiis paradise of the earth, presents so many 
 rharms, and offers a heaven upon earth, if our 
 hearts would embrace an altar of love." 
 
 Serafini regarded Angelica, his wife, with a 
 look expressive of his congenial perception of 
 the truth wliich she had just uttered with such 
 profound feeling, and in so gentle a manner. 
 Their glances met ; Angelica's deep, dark eye 
 sparkled, and her noble countenance beamed 
 with that nimbus of love which, in the con- 
 sciousness of tile harmony of the soul, that feels 
 itself transfigured in the soul of the beloved. 
 
 "' Yes ! life on earth is delightful — delightful 
 and exalted, if W'e consider it as a spiritual 
 existence, and all eirfhly goods only as means 
 of more and more improving and perfecting our 
 moral po\\'ers, and effecting the improvement of 
 others, as far as we are able," said Serafini, in a 
 Serious tone, 
 
 " Apropos !" interrupted Mr. Closting, I hear 
 that you have established a school for your ne- 
 gro children ; is that true, or only a report '." 
 
 " It is true," replied the planter, with a sharp 
 glance at his interrogator; "I have erected 
 schools for both sexes. AVhy do you ask ?" 
 
 " Only because I found a connexion of ideas 
 W'ith tlie principles which you have just ex- 
 pressed. That is very handsome of you ; it docs 
 you honor," 
 
 " I considered it my duty, and my parents 
 would have done it, long ago, if the priests here 
 in our neighborhood had not endeavored to in- 
 terrupt the measures for such an object by all 
 sorts of intrigues. Besides, you know I buy no 
 more negroes since the slave trade is abolished 
 by law ; I am trying to carry out another system." 
 
 " I belong, it is true, at present, to the class of 
 grimpeiros," said Mr. Dujour, taking up the 
 word, and addressing the lady; "you have also 
 designated me with this class ; but I am gradually 
 in tb.e way of turning my property into diamonds, 
 into which I have partly converted the incoms 
 that I have acquired by making gold into money, 
 and 1 intend buying a I'azenda. I wish to follow 
 the example of your husband, and perhaps be- 
 come your neighbor." 
 
 The clerks left the table and the room, 
 hastening to their employments, and the two 
 guests remained alone with the family. 
 
 " Our bargain is closed Mr. Closting," he con- 
 tinued, in a lower tone , " you shall have the dia- 
 mond for twenty contos, and take possession of 
 it here, in the presence of my friend, Signore 
 Carlo: in payment, two-thirds in ready money, 
 in gold and silver coin, a third part in exchange, 
 upon houses of good standing, in Bahia and 
 Rio de Janeiro." 
 
 "It is alt in order," replied the naturalist; 
 " three montiis from to-day we will meet here 
 again, and I will deposite here the twenty con- 
 tos." 
 
 " Very well, according to agreement," re- 
 marked Mr. Dujour. 
 
 " You have been prudent, Mr. Dujour," w'nis- 
 pered Sra. Serafini ; " you have not allowed it 
 to be suspected on the road that you carried the 
 diamond with you i Pai'don me the question— 
 you know that we, here, unfortunately, can con- 
 fide in but few, even of our nearest acquaint- 
 ance !" 
 
 " I thank you, SIgnora, for your sympathy," 
 returned the grimpeiro. " I have, alas ! long 
 since, been compelled to exercise prudence from 
 much bitter experience. Mr. Closting can never 
 be displeased that I desired the rendezvous with
 
 116 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 him to take place here in your presence, since 
 Sr. Serafini has known him Ioniser than I." 
 
 " Far from it," interrupted the ne^n trader ; 
 *' how can I take ill of you, a pruHential meas- 
 \ire, which I should obsei'Ve myself towards anv 
 business man in such a case, especially here in 
 Brazil ! You know, as well as I, that there are 
 merchants in Rio de Janeiro, called ' respecta- 
 ble,' who, as is said, and can he proved, carry 
 the brand of the galleys on their backs !" 
 
 " I have heard of such individuals," replied 
 Dujour, "and know many of them, personally, 
 but would not appoint a rendezvous with one ot 
 that class, to sell him a diamond worth twenty 
 nr twenty-five contos !" 
 
 " I believe you, indeed ! I have no doubt of 
 it," observed Mr. Closting. 
 
 " There come permanentos, mamma '. Mam- 
 ma ! there come barefooteci permanentos, and an 
 officer on horsetxick '." cried a beactiful little 
 boy, of some three yenrs of ao;e, who had left the 
 breakfast table, and gone out on the verandah, 
 where he was feeding his pet, an enormous 
 cockatoo. 
 
 " Permanentos !" exclairned Angelica, gtowiy, 
 with a look of amazement at her husband, who 
 involuntarily sprang i;p, and hurried to the boy, 
 while the mother, with the little one in her 
 arms, followed him. 
 
 " Permanentos !" cried Mr. Clngting, like- 
 wise, and gazed around him with an unsteady 
 look. 
 
 " They can, however, have nothing to do 
 here !" said Dujour, partly aside, and both 
 placed themselves near the family, on the ve- 
 randah. 
 
 The prospect embraced a part of the extensive 
 Tailey, intersected by a considerable stream, in 
 which rivulet after rivulet emptied itself, led 
 into every sort of curvature by the hills and 
 masses of rocks, and here and there, tmder the 
 strong light of the rising sim, presenting glitter- 
 ing, mirrorlike surfaces. The lieutenant, whom 
 we left in the fazenda of iVie. Fesh, had just then 
 ascended, with his troop, a hill not far from the 
 villa, which had, until then, covered his march. 
 
 " What can that signify ?" inqTiired Angelica, 
 on the arm of her husf)and, who, like herself, 
 had until then, looked upon the unexpected vis- 
 iters with an inriuiring glance. Instead of an- 
 swering, he pressed Angelica's hand, and said, 
 softly; "Compose youi-self; be prepared lor all 
 things ; but prove that you are a South Ameri- 
 can, and ask yourself, at this moment, which lot 
 you would prefer for your children — to leave 
 them behind you as the slaves of a monarch, or 
 as free citizens of a grand republic ?" 
 
 He beckoned to a ncgress to take the youngest 
 child away, and bade the elder boy go with her, 
 and look at the permanentos down below. The 
 little fellow obeyed, and crying out again, 
 " Barefooted permanentos !" went off in the 
 Burse's hantt. 
 
 The officer encompassefl the villa, as far a* it 
 tvas possible to do so with thirty men, whis- 
 pered something in the ear of the two corporals 
 and an ensign, and was lost to the gaze of the ob- 
 serving grouji, while he entered the villa, and, 
 after some minutes, ap]>eared in the room. 
 
 Notwithstanding his military bearing, united 
 to a certain degree of iinjjudence, he seemed, for 
 the moment, confused and embarrassed, when he 
 
 espied his accomplice, Mr. Ciosfing, who Hi 
 not dare to look him in the face. 
 
 " Sr. Carlo Serafini !" inquired the officer, 
 with a searching glance at the three men, and 
 drew out a document that he unfolded with a 
 trembling hand. Perhaps Me. Fesh's coffee had 
 been too strong, and afiected liis nerves a little. 
 
 "I am" he!" replied the planter, in a firm 
 voice, stepping, with hLswife on his arm, before 
 the sbirvi, who now began : 
 
 " In the name of the commandant of the pro- 
 vince, I have the honor — — 1 am commissioned 
 to secure your person, and comlact you to Porte 
 Seguro, whence you will be shipped to Ria 
 de Janeiro " 
 
 Angelica, overpowered by the sensation of the 
 moment, and shocked by the lightning stroke 
 which had suddenly descended upon the elysium 
 of her domestic life, and injured the main pillar 
 of the temple of her earthly happiness, tottered 
 on the arm of her husljand, who, encircling her 
 with his right, reached out his left foi the docu- 
 ment that made him a prisoner. 
 
 Hardly had Angelica's hend rested so long on 
 the breast of Carlo, as sufficed him to scan over 
 the order for his apprehension, when, as if 
 strengthened by a higher power, she suddenly 
 resirraed all her self-possesssion, and looked 
 boldly around her. 
 
 " Place a chair here for tlw officer, and hand 
 him sonie wine," snid she, in a decided tone of 
 her melodious Voice, to a negro, who tjuickly 
 ol^eyed the order. " Be seated," continued she* 
 to the officer, who moistened an old faded band- 
 kerchief with the sweat of his brow, and then, 
 surprised by the attention of the lady, sat downt 
 before her. 
 
 " And on what account is my husband ar- 
 rested?" she asked, with a glance, which, as it 
 appeared, he was unable to bear, for he looked 
 down before him on the floor. 
 
 " Ha? my liusband committed forgery .' has he 
 wronged widows and 0^)11303.' has he broken 
 hi* plighted word ? If he has done any act 
 which m»)8tmake him, henceforward, unworthy 
 of my respect, then let meknow it, and take him 
 with you, for the bond of the heart i? loosened 
 where respect has ceased ; and no social duty 
 can fasten the wife to a criminal who is un- 
 worthy of her love. Answer rne, if yoo are able 
 What is the crime of my husband .' It he is dis- 
 honored, then take him; if not, th<m take us 
 both ! I accompany my husband '." 
 
 Without awaitinsT the reply of the officer, who 
 sat there, deadly pale, with a full glass in his 
 hand, she turned towards Carlo, pressed his 
 band, kisecd him on the forehead, and left the 
 room. 
 
 The moment permitted the h'jsband no reply 
 to the resolute actions of hi* wife. 
 
 Absorbed in reading the order for his arrest, 
 which at the same time contained wtme of the 
 groundsof complaint ,he had, nevertheless, heard 
 Angelica's words, and fooiid himself in a sort 
 of absence of mind, from the twofold attention. 
 
 Dajour, who had, until this tin>e, lingered near 
 the betrayer VFjion the verandah, now stepi^ed up 
 to his old acquaintance, the owner of Villa Tasso, 
 and was hardly able to move his lips. Me placed 
 himself near him, and took a look at the docu- 
 ment. 
 
 " On account of participation in secret asso-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 117 
 
 eiations, for the subversion of the Brazilian em- 
 pire," he read, half aloud — " and to promote the 
 founding of a republican confederation of the 
 United States of South America. 
 
 " On account of participation in an European 
 republican association, called ' La Giovine Italia.' 
 On account of active participation in the dissemi- 
 nation of rebellious writings — among others, 
 Mazzini's epistle, ' To the Youth of Italy," 
 printed in Rio de Janeiro, at the instance of the 
 said Carlo Seratini, and sent, by his procure- 
 ment, to tiie headquarters of the rebels in Rio 
 Grande." 
 
 Serafini looked from the document at Mr. Du- 
 jour, as if he would ask, " What do you say to 
 this ?" cast a searching look upon the naturalist 
 on the verandah, and then handed the paper to 
 the officer, and asked him, 
 
 " When will you depart .' When must I be 
 ready to accompany you !" 
 
 " I have strict orders to depart without de- 
 lay," replied the officer. " I am sorry that I must 
 trouble you to prepare yourself for the journey 
 as soon as possible, as soon as my people have 
 completed taking possession of your papers, 
 and of all the weapons on your plantation." 
 
 " Possession of my i)apers," repeated Carlo, 
 in an ironical tone, " by all means ; but then your 
 people will require my keys. As concerns my 
 weapons, I tell you plainly, beforehand, that I 
 possess for my two hundred negroes, full two 
 nundred guns with bayonets, and all necessary 
 email arms besides, for the defence of my prop- 
 erty, which is my right and my duty. 1 think 
 that a government which ofl'ers no personal se- 
 curity to its citizens, and gives them up as a 
 prey to be plundered by every robber, ought not 
 to prohibit its citizens from arming their people. 
 Your couple of hundred permanentos, as gens 
 d'armes on service, will really not protect our 
 province ; and where am I to look for you, with 
 your thirty men, if I should even be attacked by 
 wild beasts ?" 
 
 " As respects the protection of your property, 
 a captain will be here to-day, or to-morrow, 
 with a militai'y division. You may rest quite 
 unconcerned on that score," said the officer. 
 
 " I am acquainted with such administration, 
 and thank the government for its care. I know 
 a colonel in Rio de Janeiro, who commanded in 
 Mlna.s Geraes, under pretence of supijressing the 
 rebellion, and returned, after four months, to 
 Rio de Janeiro, with a property of tifty contos, 
 with which he established himself in the rua do 
 Ouvidor, as a livery stable keeper ; but that 
 does not interest you, and does not concern either 
 of us." 
 
 It may appear strange to an English reader, 
 that a colonel of cavalry sliould retire from ser- 
 vice to establish a livery stable. In respect to 
 this, we may remark, iliat in Brazil the man 
 makes the business honorable, and the business 
 does not indicate the respectability of the man. 
 A washing establishment, for instance, is there 
 a business, like that of a livery stable, which puts 
 in circulation some hundred thousand dollars a 
 year ; and no family, of such fortune, would be 
 ashamed to apply their capital in this manner. 
 Manners and climate, in all countries, affect the 
 estimation in which different occupations are 
 held. In Brazil, less hypocrisy and prejudice 
 jirevail than in iiia.ny other lands, where a Clu'ia- 
 
 tian capitalist speculates in building vessel? for 
 the slave trade, who would be ashamed to keep 
 a livery stable. 
 
 The ensign now entered the apartment, ac- 
 companied by two of the barefoot corps, with 
 lowered bayonets and cocked muskets ; they 
 looked anxiously around, as if fearing that some 
 one might shoot them down, without their 
 having tlie courage to defend their sunburnt 
 hides. The subordinate spoke in a low voice, 
 to his superior officer, who intimated to the pris- 
 oner that he might go about the house at his 
 pleasure, under the escort of this guard, and pre- 
 pare himself for his journey. 
 
 Serafini was going out with the ensign, whea 
 the officer hastily called him back, and asked 
 him — 
 
 " What is the family name of your wife .'" and 
 then opened his pocketbook, and held a pencil 
 ready. 
 
 " De la Barca !" was the answer, which the 
 former noted. 
 
 " Where was she born ?" 
 
 *' In Corrientes, on the Parana.'* 
 
 " Are her parents living ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " What is her mother's family name !" 
 
 " Garringos." 
 
 " Has she sisters and brothers .'" 
 
 " Only one brother." 
 
 " What is his name ?" 
 
 ** Alvarez de la Barca." 
 
 " Where is he now .'" 
 
 " That is unknown to us," replied Serafini, and 
 left the room, accompanied by his hobbling guard. 
 
 Angelica had had the presence of mind to de- 
 stroy all those papers of her husband which 
 might have been used as evidence against him. 
 She met him in the corridor, and flew into his 
 arms. A long, speechless embrace followed, 
 from which she then tore herself, to make fur- 
 ther preparations for her journey. 
 
 Carlo did not dare to oppose her, as he knew 
 his companion, who now, in all haste, made the 
 most important arrangements to leave her two 
 children under the most secure protection possi- 
 ble. The journey to Porto Seguro was long, 
 and extremely difficult, as it could only be under- 
 taken on horseback, and over many chains of 
 mountains, full of hollows and precipices, and 
 deserted inhospitable campas, and was attended 
 with dangers and privations of all sorts. 
 
 Mr. Closting remained upon the verandah, as 
 if he had been chained there, while an often 
 despised, inward voice, which we call " con- 
 science," to his great astonishment, aroused itself 
 within him, and, as it were, forbade him to look 
 any one in the face, to say nothing of entering 
 the apartment where the arrest had taken place. 
 
 " Who are you ?" now inquired the officer of 
 the old acquaintance of the prisoner, since he, 
 also, had, very naturally, become suspicious to 
 the government, as the confidant of the fai'ou- 
 pilhas, 
 
 " Mr. Dujour started, and mentioned his name, 
 which the ofhcer noted down, and demanded 
 further : " And you, there — you without ! who 
 are you .'" cried he to the negro trader, as if he 
 had never seen him before. 
 
 Encouraged by this firm demeanor, the in- 
 former then entered the room, and likewise 
 passed a sti'ict examination.
 
 118 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 "You may depart, both of you," said the offi- 
 cer, after he had read over his pi-oces verbal. 
 " You had better make haste to go; the captain, 
 who 13 coming here, is, perhaps, stricter than I." 
 
 Mr. Dujour, although he had long resided in 
 Brazil, felt his position very uncomfortable, un- 
 der surrounding circumstances, and expressed a 
 wish to travel in the company of the other 
 guests. 
 
 Without in the least suspecting how entirely 
 he was coming into the finely spun plan of the 
 betrayer, he was rejoiced by the consolatory 
 assurance that Mr. Closting could accompany 
 him for some days, as far as the turning of the 
 mountains, and would protect him with all his 
 people, if he would first go with him a little out 
 of his way, to Me. Fesh's. 
 
 Mr. Dujour agreed to this proposal with cor- 
 dial thanks, and gave a negro, who was arranging 
 the room, the order to have their beasts saddled ; 
 whereupon Mr. Closting oflered to attend to it 
 himself, and hastily departed, that he might not 
 again come under the observation of the farou- 
 pilha or his wife. 
 
 A sumptuous breakfast was prepared for the 
 officer and his ensign, after the patriarchal cus- 
 tom of Brazil, which ofl'ers refreshments even to 
 an enemy, and shelter to a betrayer. 
 
 Serafini appeared in an elegant national tra- 
 velling costume, rich in gold buttons and precious 
 stones, glittering on the vest and spencer, and 
 upon the brilliantly white linen, the watch- 
 guard, the fingers, and on the spurs upon the 
 buckskin boots. A negro t>ehind him carried 
 the " poncho," the national mantle, of a pe- 
 culiar cut, made of dark blue cloth, nearly 
 five feet wide and eight feet long, with an open- 
 ing for the neck in the middle, (and a gold or sil- 
 ver agrafe,) lined with red, and rounded at the 
 corners. 
 
 This form of the " poncho," originally bor- 
 rowed from the Patagonians, is particularly suit- 
 able to its object, as it protects the arms of the 
 equestrian traveller, and leaves his hands free, 
 while it selves him for a covering to sleep under 
 at night. 
 
 " Pardon me, illustrissimo Senhor !" said the 
 officer to his prisoner, in a tone of contemptuous 
 politeness ; " pardon me, that I am obliged to 
 order your travelling toilet according to my 
 instructions. You must carry nothing of value 
 about you — absolutely nothing ; and instead of 
 your spencer, you must wear a capote, which is 
 somewhat warmer for the mountain heights. 
 You may take your " poncho" with you ; I will 
 answer for that, although I foresee it may bring 
 a reprimand upon me. Please to lay aside your 
 clothes with gold and diamond buttons, and all 
 that you carry about you. 1 will take them in 
 charge to Porto Seguro ; you need not be at all 
 concerned about them." 
 
 Not in the least moved in his mind, but filled 
 with contempt for such legalized plundering, 
 which characterized the persecution of all rebels 
 in Brazil,Carlo took ofl'hisjewellery.of the value 
 of some five contos. 
 
 Assured of such loss, he had, nevertheless, 
 endeavored to save some of those valuables, the 
 confiscation of which must be as indifferent to 
 him, whether accomplished now, or afterwards, 
 by the expected officer, who was to undertake 
 the " administration of the plantation." 
 
 Angelica entered the apartment as her husband 
 drew on the capote, which is recognised in Bra- 
 il as the dress of the mean?^t criminal, and, ag 
 such, indicates a sort of degradation. 
 
 "For a second she remained standing, as if pet- 
 rified, and turned pale, while a large tear rolled 
 down her cheek. 
 
 ■Carlo, who was under the hands of some per- 
 manentos, who served as valets to the proscribed, 
 obsen'ed the emotion of Angelica, and all that 
 oppressed his heart, all that he felt of bitterness, 
 contempt, love, and faith, was expressed in a 
 single look, which, met the soulfelt glance of 
 her eye. 
 
 Angelica was attired in a European costinne, 
 with a long riding dress, and a broad brimmed 
 beaver hat. Her dress, like her husband'3,was or- 
 namented with jewels, after the custom of the 
 country. 
 
 At the first word of the sbirro's cringing ser- 
 vility, intimating that the lady must lighten her- 
 self of her ornaments, and confide them all to 
 him. Carlo lost his self-command. 
 
 " Lieutenant, or coi-poral, or whatever you 
 may be," said he, to the driver of the barefooted 
 troop, " leave my wife unmolested ! If you dare 
 to give an order to touch her — to plunder her as 
 you have plundered me, I swear by the holy 
 God you shall not pass alive over the Serra do3 
 Esmeraldos, to Porto Seguro ! Mark that well ! 
 1 swear it yet again ! Recollect that my wife 
 is not your prisoner, but my wife, who accom- 
 panies me from her own choice, and is free in 
 the eyes of the law ! Mark that ! and guide 
 yourself accordingly ! Disobey my command, 
 and a hundred carabines of noble Brazilians 
 shall blow you and your thirty men to atoms 
 before we pass the ne.^t town." 
 
 During this objurgation, he had drawn on the 
 frock of the "escravosbrancos," and now reached 
 his arm to his wife, to leave tlieir home, perhaps 
 forever. 
 
 Angelica's resolution to depart without taking 
 leave of her children, wavered like her steps, 
 as she was entering the corridor — she left the 
 arm of her husband, beckoned him to go before, 
 down the broad granite stairs, and disappeai-ed 
 through a door which led into the apartment of 
 the children. 
 
 Carlo left the house. To the father attached 
 to his children with equal fondness, a farewell 
 scene would have been impossible, for which the 
 womanly spirit of the mother appeared armed 
 with superior strength. He would not have had 
 the power to embrace them, perhaps for the last 
 time, without, after leaving them, stabbing to the 
 heart, witli the nearest knife, the slave of tyr- 
 anny who tore him from them — for he was a 
 man. 
 
 Angelica appeared in a short time, with tear- 
 dimmed eyes, under the portal of the villa, and 
 mounted her mule witli the assistance of her 
 husband. She was followed by two women and 
 two men, as servants, and to take charge of some 
 animals laden with travelling necessaries. The 
 officer allowed the chain intended for the "rebel," 
 to hang at his own saddle, that it might be at 
 hand as quickly as possible, in case of need, 
 and Mr. Dujour, and the lamenting house ser- 
 vants, took a liasty farewell of tlie prisoner and 
 his noble wife.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 119 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE SECRET PLAN. 
 
 " These are troublerl times !" said Mr. Clost- 
 ing, interrupting the long silence, as he rode 
 along by Mr. Dujour. 
 
 " Very troubled times, indeed !" replied the 
 latter, and a long pause again ensued. 
 
 Mr. Dujour was one of those " peaceable citi- 
 zens, who do not trouble themselves with poli- 
 tics," when it might lead them into any danger 
 to do so, but who are very zealous politicians, 
 whenever tlieir particular interest in connexion 
 with this or that government requires it, when 
 the prospect and hope of a situation or pension, 
 the provision for a family, or the like, bring 
 them in contact with the administration, or with 
 any person who represents it. 
 
 Mr. Dujour was a grimpeiro, a gold specula- 
 tor, and, as sucli, belonged to a class of men, 
 who have thoughts for nothing but gold and 
 gold's worth, and of course give themselves not 
 the least trouble about their nation and country. 
 
 This numerous and (through the tendency of 
 our epoch) rapidly increasing class, find their 
 peculiar element in cnunti-ies where a false cul- 
 tivation, or " civilization," makes a position for a 
 man according to the value of his money. Num- 
 bers, of themselves, represent materialism, and 
 words, spirituality. Numbers are the moans of 
 material speculation, and the word, the com- 
 munication of thouglit — the medium of spiritual 
 elevation and of moral ennoblement. 
 
 It is characteristic, that a man who occupies 
 himself during his whole life with counting and 
 with calculation, without, at the same time, 
 *' thinking" of something which lies without the 
 circumference of his material gains, loses, by 
 degrees, the particle of intellect which nature 
 lent him, and becomes every day more one-sided, 
 contracted, and stupid. 
 
 In opposition to these remarks, we find that 
 the higher intellectual men stand in their deve- 
 lopment, the deeper they, led by the inspired 
 word, penetrate into the realms of thought, the 
 further, in tlie same proportion, are they re- 
 moved from every calculation of material specu- 
 lation, because every earthly good is only the 
 means of pursuing their intellectual exertions. 
 
 We touch here one of those fundamental 
 J oints, from wliich the various tendencies of 
 men universally proceed. In retrospect to for- 
 mer intimations upon the inner life — attraction 
 and rep\ilsion, spirituality and materialism — we 
 consider the life of the soul to be in spirituality, 
 and materialism as the death of the soul — two 
 poles, separated by the equator of indifl'erence. 
 If we judge every man as the inner life is 
 awakened within him, by the attraction towards 
 the lofty pole of spirituality, and weigh, on the 
 other hand, the humiliation of men who sink be- 
 low the equator, to the earthly pole of material- 
 ism, the endlessly varied degrees of inward life, 
 and inward deadness, as it were, systematically 
 present themselves. 
 
 Notliing is more remarkable than the mutual 
 attraction of those in whom the spiritual life pre- 
 vails, and the business attraction to each other 
 of those men who, more or less spiritually dead, 
 vegetate as calculating machines, upon or under 
 tile equator of indifiereuce. 
 
 As spiritual men, in whom the life of the snul 
 unfolds itself, are drawn towards each other by 
 means of a mysterious attraction, so do those who 
 are inwardly dead, seem, as it were, to recognise 
 each other by the mouldy smell proceeding from 
 the rottenness of the heart, since they approxi- 
 mate to each other with singular facility, where 
 reciprocal speculation requires it. • 
 
 To get rich by calculation, at the expense of 
 others, by overreaching and honest cheating, as 
 elements of commerce, must become more diffi- 
 cult every day — for men, warned by thousand- 
 fold experience, will, also, relatively increase 
 their prudential measures, if they do not be- 
 come, at tlie same time, from day to day, more 
 contracted in the above named slough of the 
 spiritless world of calculation, and, notwith- 
 standing all their business knowledge, become 
 the prey of overreaching. 
 
 In the same measure as mutual distrust in- 
 creases, (since the man of business is prepared 
 ftirdeceitbeforehand,) does strength ofjudgement 
 appear to diminish. The more a man gains in 
 single-sided business routine, the less does he 
 gather of knowledge of the world and mankind. 
 
 The deeper a man sinks into material specula- 
 tion, the more he lives in figures, and tiiinks of 
 nothing which he cannot reckon by a num.ber, 
 the less does he often observe the nearest objects 
 around him. 
 
 It would, perhaps, have awakened a slight dis- 
 trust in many men in Mr. Dujour's situation, to 
 have observed, with the smallest power of com- 
 prehension, the deportment of his ravelling com- 
 panion ; but the faculty of thought, of reflecting 
 upon any subject whatever not connected with 
 his gold speculations, was wanting in the grim- 
 peiro, as in thousands of his kind. 
 
 He looked upon his companion as a man of 
 business, and the befoi-e intimated fellow feeling, 
 caused by the perception of inward rottenness, 
 had led to those relations of business traffic, in 
 which the money bag alone has any weight, and 
 the heart is held in the least possible considera- 
 tion. 
 
 " We shall be liable to meet the permanentos 
 again," began Mr. Closting, after one of the fre- 
 quent pauses ; " 1 mean the captain who is to 
 take possession of Villa Tasso ; and, perhaps, he 
 may even take it in his head to search us, to see 
 w'hether we carry secret papers about us, and htj 
 will find your diamond." 
 
 Mr. Dujour, who was suddenly aroused from 
 his speculations, and had scarcely heai'd what 
 the other said, arrived, with difficulty, at a con- 
 nexion of ideas, which made evident the danger 
 that threatened him. 
 
 " You are right," replied he ; " an unlaid egg 
 is not safe from such a band of robbers as our 
 military here, or, at least, their officers, not to 
 mention a diamond in the pocket of a traveller." 
 
 '* Especially when the traveller is known as 
 the intimate friend of a faroupilha." 
 
 " We are in danger of being seized and plun- 
 dered as such." 
 
 " Indeed ! the affair is serious — let us then 
 ride a little faster !" With these words, the nat- 
 uralist gave his mule the spur, and the grim- 
 peiro followed him as fast as he could. 
 .S'nhor Luiz !" cried he, from a distance, and then 
 said, in a lower tone, as he again overtook him, 
 " may I beg a favor of you ? Will you take the
 
 lao 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 diamond in charge until we come to Me. Fesh's 
 fazenda, or until we reach my dwelling. You 
 are more strongly armed than I, and besides, 
 know better how to handle weapons. Your 
 looks would keep a man at a distance, and I — 
 they would see my anxiety at the first glance — 
 I am not the man for such cases." 
 
 " If you believe that the diamond will be any 
 safer in my keeping than %vith you," replied 
 Clostins, " and I can do you a favor by carrying 
 it, I will do so, willingly, with all my heart. 
 Before any one comes at my person, be it a cap- 
 tain, or a common permanento, I have at least 
 four balls ready." He pointed to his pistols and 
 his double barrelled gun. 
 
 " I also carry a gun, to be sure, as it is a cus- 
 tom of the country, but I should hardly use it 
 for my protection." He opened his spencer and 
 his vest, and gave over to his companion a little 
 box, which was suspended from his neck by a 
 strip of leather, like an amulet. 
 
 " There it is," he whispered softly, looking 
 at his two negroes, who, with the naturalist's ser- 
 vant, followed them at a great distance, and of 
 course could not see what went on. 
 
 " If one only reflects upon it," remarked Mr. 
 Closting, as he hung the case about his own 
 neck, in the same manner as it had been carried 
 by its owner, " if one only reflects upon it, the 
 value of such a stone is altogether imaginary ; if 
 I had not had an order to buy it for a German 
 prince, I would not have oft'ered twenty contos 
 for it." 
 
 " And if I had not been certain that somebody 
 or another, commissioned by a third person, 
 would ottisr me such a sum for it, I would not 
 have invested the money in it that I paid for it," 
 replied Mr. Dujour, smiling. 
 
 " Then you did not wash* it yourself?" 
 
 "Oh, no! I bought it with go'ld dust. A hun- 
 dred years ago this stone would have been worth 
 three'times its present value. The price of dia- 
 monds diminishes, as the product of the wash- 
 ing diminishes." 
 
 " That is founded on political circumstances. 
 Crowns no longer sit as securely on the heads of 
 princes, as formerly. A king's crown, with all 
 its diamonds, is no longer worth as much as it 
 was a hundred years ago !" 
 
 " Very justly remai-kcd ! very acute, Mr. 
 Closting ! One would soon perceive that you 
 have studied." 
 
 " A man is better off with gold and silver : it 
 is the measure of human worth, and will remain 
 so, whilst British civilization advances. 
 
 " Before England's influence extended itself 
 over the world, a man had some value as a man ; 
 his character, his talent, his spirit, were worth 
 something. Now, however, it is entirely by 
 his money that a man is valued ; he may be a 
 mean fellow, and the greatest blockhead in the 
 world, and if he have only money, he is well re- 
 ceived." 
 
 " Excellent ! and unhappily true — but too 
 true." 
 
 " There is something very peculiar in the 
 circumstance of the Britons' seeking to obtain 
 a monopoly ot all the gold on earth, and also 
 seeking to usurp nearly all the mines here in 
 Brazil. ' Where the carcass is, there will the 
 
 * Tcclinical expressioa for finding in the water. 
 
 eagles be gathered together,' is Scripture — and 
 where gold is, there do the Britons assemble ! 
 If one even discover a mine, one must use the 
 utmost circumspection, lest a Briton should 
 come behind him, and get possession of it be- 
 fore he suspects it. I know of a spot up there in 
 your neighborhood," he continued, in a lower 
 voice, and with a significant expression, "where 
 a man could make himself rich !" 
 
 " How so ?" inquired Mr. Dujour, hastily and 
 inquisitively. " Not a mine ? a fast mine .' Is it 
 in strata, or flowing !" 
 
 The naturalist appeared unwilling to give a 
 direct answer to these inquiries, but, on the 
 contrary, heightened the curiosity of the grim- 
 peiro by remarking ; 
 
 " If my business would permit me to stop 
 with my negroes, which I have with me at pre- 
 sent, for four months, in that corner of the 
 mountains, I would buy ten dozen such dia- 
 monds as yours with ready money. But I must 
 first, formally settle myself there, and form a 
 partnership with somebody, since I could not be 
 always there myself." 
 
 At these words, the grimpeiro listened with 
 heightened expectation, and would gladly have 
 asked a direct question, if he had not feared that 
 it might operate against his present desire. 
 
 " Before we separate, and when we are up 
 there in the neighborhood of the mine, just tell 
 me one word about it, entirely as a matter of 
 business ;" said he, slowly, and with emphasis. 
 " It is natural that in such a business some 
 partner should be personally established there." 
 " I have no objection at all to meet you in 
 thisafl'air," replied Mr. Closting; "but every 
 thing must be done with the greatest prudence ; 
 and we will speak about it further, before we 
 separate." 
 
 The two grimpeiros now reached the fazenda 
 of Me. Fesh, and found her still cursing over 
 the loss of her " contos in negro flesh," as she 
 expressed herself. 
 
 Placed under a necessity of purchasing a 
 Pluto, and some other negroes and negresses, 
 she had employed herself, during the absence of 
 Mr. Closting, in holding a review over his black 
 merchandise. She found herself in similar 
 perplexity with many ministers of state, who 
 have to select from genealogical lists some 
 prince, for a princess or heiress to the throne, 
 and must rely upon good luck in their choice, 
 since the qualities for propogating a legitimate 
 dynasty cannot, unfortunately, be ascertained 
 and proved beforehand. There existed only this 
 diflerence, that as yet no Mahommedan prince has 
 come upon such a list, to whom several princesses 
 could be disposed of at once, if even, on tlie 
 other hand, many Turkish customs are not en- 
 tirely strange at European courts. 
 
 After long hesitation, she chnse a successor to 
 Pluto, and a young negress to replace Anastasia, 
 and deferred, to Mr. Closting's dissatisfaction, 
 the purchase of an Antinous and ApoUino to 
 better times, since ready money had, even for 
 Me. Fesh, a solid value, in comparison to which 
 the life of some few black beasts was not to be 
 considered — if it were not, that they, like other 
 " stock cattle," cost ready money. 
 
 The negro trader hastened to proceed on his 
 journey, tor he had set his heart upon accom- 
 panying the grimpeiro into the mountains. Ho
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 121 
 
 called him aside, to return the diamond to him, 
 in case he desired it, which the other con- 
 fidingly refused, as he observed that the jewel 
 would be better taken care of by his companion 
 than by Iiim — which mi^ht very well be the case. 
 
 Mr. Banko hud debated with himself, and 
 consulted with his fellow suflerer Mr. Nols, 
 whether he should immediately leave the negro 
 trader, and wander alone to Rip do Janeiro, or 
 Bahia, or endure his situation still longer. Strip- 
 ped of all means, without necessary clothing, a 
 stranger in a country where even the government 
 itself afforded no personal security, and where, 
 apart from the countless perils and difficulties 
 amongst Indian tribes and wild beasts, he was in 
 danger of being thrust into a copote of the perma- 
 nenios, and misused as a recruit ; there remained 
 in short, nothing for the poor youth, but for the 
 present to abide by his fate, and run about for a 
 time, through bushes and over rocks, to hunt 
 butterflies; an employment which, in the tropical 
 heat, by no means contributed to personal comfort. 
 
 " Where are those that you took yesterday?" 
 inquired the naturalist of him, when he had 
 concluded his trade with Me. Fesh, and received 
 his money. 
 
 " Here !" grumbled the youth, and opened his 
 box, in which appeared many particularly bril- 
 liant and uncommon specimens of beetles, as 
 well as butterflies, the view of which softened 
 the savage humor of the slave trader, which 
 had been, besides, rendered less violent by the 
 above sale of liis ware. 
 
 " That will do very well," said he ; I will not 
 leckonso severely with you, for your imperti- 
 nence of last evening." 
 
 " My demands on you for maltreatment I 
 have noted down, along with other claims," in- 
 terrupted Mr. Banko," and your being satisfied 
 with tills capture will not ward it off. I de- 
 clare to you, that I shall only remain with you 
 for a few days' journey, until we arrive in the 
 neighborhood of a town, or meet a caravan to 
 which I can join myself I consider myself re- 
 leased from our contract since last evening, as 
 you have not fulfilled your part of it. Here you 
 are the stronger, and 1 defer my reckoning with 
 you — until an opportunity presents itself" Mr. 
 Closting felt that the measures of the offended 
 youth might bring under discussion certain 
 former ti'ansactions, and he wished to give mat- 
 ters a favorable turn. Mr. Banko's clothing 
 was entirely torn, as the natural consequence of 
 his wandering about, through bushes and briars, 
 wherever the harmless whims of a pair of but- 
 terflies led his steps after their fluttering flight. 
 He now desired some clothes and shoes, and 
 necessary linen, and a straw hat, for the sun had 
 burnt him apparently to a mulatto. 
 
 The naturalist granted his request, and had 
 means enough at hand to comply with it imme- 
 iliately, as he carried with him ready made 
 clothing for sale and exchange. 
 
 Banko equipped himself for his contemplated 
 separation, as well as the apprehensions and 
 the present good humor oflhis master permitted, 
 of which he was obliged to make speedy use. 
 
 Mr. Closting appeared to agree the more 
 readily to the demands of his penless and inkless 
 secretary, as he evidently wished to set out im- 
 mediately upon his journey, for the present, 
 directed to an uninhabited grimpeiro village, near 
 
 16 
 
 exhausted gold mines, deep in the interior of a 
 neighboring mountain, where Mr. Dujour had 
 
 his dwelling. 
 
 The tropa left, towards evening, the fazenda o! 
 the humane lady, and disappeared behind hills 
 and rocks, as the expected military troop ap- 
 proached on its way to Villa Tasso, and did not, 
 of course, trouble them, as their way led them 
 IVom the so called highway into the mountains. 
 
 Mr. Bujour felt particularly satisfied to escape 
 the possible search, that might endanger his dia- 
 mond, which he now felt to be the more secure, 
 since he relied upon the weapons of his business 
 friend, who had the jewel in safe keeping. 
 
 --^^^v^^^f-^S^^f^^^f^.^^^^^- 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE MURDER AND ROBBERY. 
 
 The tropa of the naturalist proceed through val- 
 leys and ravines, through brooks and swamps.over 
 rocks and stones, and through " thick and thin." 
 It had nearly completed the second day's journey, 
 and was to pass the night at a Venda,* kept by a 
 Brazilian family of Portuguese extraction. 
 
 Mr. Dujour, who had been travelling for some 
 weeks, longed to see his old neighbors again, 
 whose distance from his place of abode might, 
 like so many other neighborhoods in these parts, 
 be measured with " seven league boots," and a 
 pretty long strip at that. 
 
 " There is the fazenda of the ' pious English 
 people,' as the family are called here," said the 
 grimpeiro, riding up to his business friend, and 
 pointing out a mountain summit at some miles 
 distance, whose site formed a topographical an- 
 gle with that of the old venda. 
 
 " You may possibly have heard of them .'" ho 
 continued ; " of the ' pious Englishmen,' there, 
 who wish to prevent Sr. Braga from furnishing 
 travellers with drink on Sundays for their re- 
 freshments. They are very God-fearing people, 
 the gentlemen up there." 
 
 " It is a great while since I was in this moun- 
 tain," replied Mr. Closting. " Is it really the 
 case, that they would have the tavern keeper 
 shut up on Sundays .' or are you joking ?" 
 
 " It is no joke at all — I am really in eai-nest. 
 There has been a dispute for more than a year 
 past, especially since a so called missionary has 
 lived up there, formerly a brushmaker in Lon- 
 don, who was sent here foi the conversion of the 
 Botacudos, and preaches English to the savages. 
 He is ]iarticularly indignant about the venda, be- 
 cause the negroes from the different fazendas 
 sometimes meet there on Sundays, and entertain 
 themselves, aftei their fashion, with music and 
 singing, a harmless pleasure to the poor devils, 
 who enjoy little relaxation through the week." 
 
 " I can now understand the matter easily 
 enough," returned Mr. Closting; " such a Sun- 
 day festival may very well be an annoyance to 
 the ' holy grimpeiros ;' and yet 1 would wager that 
 they would not refuse to examine a mine on the 
 holy Sabbath, even though it were the one of 
 which 1 have spoken to you, which lies here in 
 
 • rmia Inn,
 
 122 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 the neighborhood, if they should happen to 
 find it on a Sunday." 
 
 Mr. Dujour again appeared as if suddenly elec- 
 trified ; he held in his mule, and starCd around 
 him, with an inquiring look. 
 
 " Here in the neighborhood ?" whispered he ; 
 " not far from here ? then it must be over there, 
 somewhere .'" 
 
 The lively curiosity of the grimpeiro, who 
 would have deprived himself for days of nour- 
 ishment and sleep, to satisfy himself of the ex- 
 istence of an untouched mine, if the prospect 
 were opened to him of becoming a partner in it, 
 did not escape his companion's observation. 
 
 " I have now considered the aflair," said Mr. 
 Closting, interrupting the long pause which fol- 
 lowed tliis question ; " I will make you the offer 
 to work the mine, with an equal number of ne- 
 groes, and to bear half the expense, and have 
 half the proceeds " 
 
 " That is just the proposal I wished to make 
 you," interrupted the other ; " and, as concerns 
 the management, in which you cannot take a 
 pai't personally, you can send an attorney, who 
 can take the control in your stead." 
 
 " That would be entirely superfluous, my 
 worthy Mr. Dujour," replied Mr. Closting. " I 
 repose so much contidence in your integrity, and 
 have already known you so long, through Senhor 
 Serafini, that [ would transfer to your chai'ge, 
 not only this mine, but my whole property, if 
 peculiar circumstances should render it neces- 
 sary for me to choose a credible man for such a 
 parpose. I would give you the preference in all 
 Brazil.'" 
 
 " I am rejoiced at that," rejoined the other, 
 with peculiar satisfaction. " That delights me, 
 especially since 1 have been recommended to you 
 by Senhor Serafini. The unbounded confidence 
 of such an excellent man as Serafini, is worth 
 more to me than the little property that I have 
 acquired, without any detriment to others." 
 
 " I, also, agi-ee with you in this testimony of a 
 clear conscience. A good name, and untar- 
 nished honor, are always the most valuable 
 capital, wliich bears its own interest, notwith- 
 standing tlie esteem of men for money, which 
 belongs to our times. We will, then, take a 
 circuit through that valley there, towards the 
 old venda. It leads into a narrow dell ; I have 
 marked the passage." 
 
 He looked back upon the tropa, now ap- 
 proaching at a distance, and then both dis- 
 mounted from their saddles. Mr. Closting beck- 
 oned to his arreiro, Mr. Nols, who instantly 
 galloped forward, and received the order to lead 
 the tropa to the before mentioned venda, and 
 bespeak quarters there for the night, while Mr. 
 Dujour would accompany him through the ra- 
 vine, where they were to examine some veins of 
 metal, and then loUow after to supper. The 
 trackless way, through this ravine, could only be 
 undertaken on foot, wherelbre Mr. Nols was 
 told to talie both mules to the tropa, and lead 
 them with him. 
 
 Mr. Dujour was satisfied with every arrange- 
 ment, and stood, as if on coals, to set out on a 
 walk of several miles, which was to lead to 
 such golden termination. 
 
 " You can mount my mule," said Closting to 
 his " secretary," who had come up with the ne- 
 groes, and heard a part of the orders. 
 
 " I tliank you, Mr. Closting," replied the 
 youth, unfolding his long bamboo catcher. " It 
 is a remarkably fine afternoon, and the butter- 
 flies seem to enjoy it very much ; I hope still to 
 take some splendid specimens on the way." 
 
 The naturalist was too deeply absorbed by his 
 plan, to reflect much on the peculiar motives for 
 this polite refusal ; he praised the zeal of the 
 young German, hung his double-barrelled gun 
 and game-bag over his shoulder, gave some fur- 
 ther directions to his aiTeiro, and departed with 
 the expectant grimpeiro 
 
 The valley, which the tropa now traversed, 
 was narrow, in comparison with the grand scale 
 of Brazilian scenery, with a brook winding 
 through it, that near its source, was reported 
 to be possessed of golden sands, and, in bygone 
 days, had aflbrded a rich supply of the so called 
 " precious metal," which, up to this time, has 
 contributed little towards improving the human 
 heart. 
 
 A colossal, and nearly perpendicular wall of 
 rock, several thousand feet high, towai'ds tlie 
 northwest, was here and there broken by rugged 
 and fantastically formed masses of stone. Gigantic 
 blocks, apparently the overthrown portions of 
 this exalted temple of nature, perhaps separated 
 from it by a volcanic movement, and removed to 
 the distance of miles from their former base, lay 
 around in picturesque grouping, forming, with 
 their vistas of expanded extent, and complicate 
 forms, other valleys and ravines. 
 
 A narrow passage of this description, only a 
 few feet wide, led, on the other side of the 
 brook, towards the south, to a marshy basin, 
 shut in by similai' gigantic rocks, whicli were no 
 longer lighted by the rays of the evening sun, 
 since one of the principal ridges, towards the 
 northwest, had already darkened the whole land- 
 scape with the veil of its gloomy shadow 
 
 The two grimpeiro's went on, through the tow- 
 ering ravine, absorbed in discourse about their 
 undertaking. They were soon surrounded by a 
 mysterious stillness, often broken in upon, never- 
 theless, by the screams of brilliant parti-colored 
 birds, and by the disagreeable croaking of an 
 enormous frog, of the size of a man's head flat- 
 tened, which crept slowly tlirough moss and 
 mud, as if placed there lor a bugbear, in contrast 
 to the magnificence and splendor of nature. 
 Lizards, whose length approached a small croco- 
 dile's, ran about the overgrown pathof the wan- 
 derers, and crawled, or glided with unexampled 
 rapidity, up along the side walls of the rocks. 
 The low ringing tones of fondling serpents re- 
 sounded from the summits of the clifls, which, 
 warmed by the burning sun during the day, mys- 
 teriously concealed the nightly couch of fiery love. 
 
 Brilliant butterflies, always in pairs, in obe- 
 dience to the instinct of love, fluttered about the 
 two grimpeiros, concluding their daily flight in 
 the blissful dream of innocence, (unacquainted 
 with the cat'^her of a naturalist, or his secretary,) 
 and seeking a little place where to pass the night 
 close to each other, and to await the re-awaken- 
 ing of the flowers, whose perfume forms their 
 happy woild. 
 
 Faithful "inseparables," that little sympathetic 
 race of bright green dumb parroquets, whose lives 
 flow on, pair-wise, in one hai-monious existence, 
 and who build, in similar marshy places of Brazil, 
 their asylum of love, on lonely, prominent trees,
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 123 
 
 flew about anxiously, from limb to limb. A 
 loving little piiir of tliese flying creatures of sym- 
 pathy, seemed terrified by the presence of two 
 living beings in tiiis sanctuary of their solitude, 
 although unacquainted with the death-dealing 
 instrument of the Europeans. 
 
 Both hovered about in tremulous flight, and 
 lingered, as if fastened by magic, in the neigh- 
 borhood of the naturalist, who dexterously 
 brought down one of the delicate creatures on the 
 wing. It had hai'dly dropped, before its com- 
 panion placed itself by the body of the slain one, 
 and allowed itself to be captured ; and the hand 
 that captured it, instantly wrung its head oil". 
 
 " The feathers are useful," said Mr. Closting, 
 and thrust the two birds into his game-bag. 
 
 Mr. Dujour, by no means known for his sen- 
 sibility, experienced, at tlie moment, a cold, 
 shuddering, creeping of the nerves — perhaps an 
 attack of fever, in consequence of the altered 
 temperature, and the evaporation from the con- 
 fined marshy soil. 
 
 -An old, dead, dried up mango, (similar to the 
 European oak,) which had been struck with 
 lightning, stood at some distance, upon the height 
 of a rock, and presented a singular and forbid- 
 ding appearance. The bare, leafless, variously 
 distorted brandies, resembled a numerous group 
 of petrified serpents, twisted and twined together 
 in every variety of convolution, distinguished as 
 a dim shadowy outline from the western horizon, 
 which now, in the tropical shortness of the twi- 
 light, suddenly lost its glow, and passed into a 
 color tliat was almost a bright green. 
 
 " Another pair of inseparables have lit there," 
 whispered the naturalist, with a glance at the 
 serpent tree, and hastily loaded his double bar- 
 relled gun. He turned, however, as if accident- 
 ally, away from his companion, and sliijped two 
 . bullets info the barrels, instead of bird sliot. 
 
 " Do not fire, Mr. Closting," said his fellow- 
 traveller," do not fire to-day at another living 
 being. You liave shot enough ! You know that 
 1 am neither a sportsman nor naturalist — audit 
 maybe ridiculous, I admit — but it always gives me 
 pain, when a pair of these little sympathetic 
 creatures are killed. What attachment does their 
 instinct display ! The one always follows the 
 other, and if you take one, you have them both." 
 
 " It is the stupidity of these narrow minded 
 creatures — 'tis all stupidity, Mr. Dojour, noth- 
 ing else. If these birds were a little more know- 
 ing, they would escape such a danger; at least, 
 the one would not allow itself to be seized when 
 the other is killed, wounded, or caught." 
 
 "Permit me one question, Mr. Closting," in- 
 terrupted the otlier ; " do you take Sra. Serafini 
 for a stupid woman .'" 
 
 Closting started, and looked on thb ground. 
 " Sra. Serafini .' Why ? She is a woman, and 
 does not want to pass her nights alone, for some 
 months to come, but desires, if possible, to be 
 in her husband's neig;hborhood, for the fulfil- 
 ment of conjugal duties — which is very natu- 
 ral !" 
 
 Mr. Dujour remained silent, and walked slo%vly 
 by the side of his companion, whose company 
 became more and more disagreeable to him, 
 without his being able to account for an uneasi- 
 ness which had evidently come over him. 
 
 A half hour had passed by, and they were 
 again among blocks of stone, the space between 
 
 which hardly admitted the passage of a single 
 person. 
 
 " There ! there, at the end of that ravine — ^just 
 there the vein lie.-. — it is a gold vein, in regular 
 strata !" whispered Mr. Closting. " The rock is 
 granite, and contains some portions of Hornblend 
 andmica. The gold ore is mixed with ferruginous 
 sandstone couglomerate, which is often the 
 case, as you know. You will find the earth 
 there in cascalhao strata, intermixed with rock." 
 
 The grimpoiro's lust for gold hardly allowed 
 him time to hear his companion to the end. He 
 stared at the entrance into the ravine, above de- 
 scribed, and no power on earth could now have 
 held him back, notwithstanding all iiis feverish 
 symptoms, from examining the vein of ore, so 
 technically described. He swung his mineral 
 hammer, as if he felt himself suddenly strength- 
 ened, in case of need, to devote three days to geo- 
 logical researches, without sleep or food, and 
 hurried forward, at a quick pace. The opposite 
 ravine, which had been pointed out to him, wai 
 as narrow as that through which he had just 
 passed. His body soon stopped up the narrow- 
 passage, in which it would have ijeen difficult 
 for the grimpeiro to turn and look around him, 
 if he had even, in his thirst for gold, thought ol 
 looking back at his companion. The latter 
 availed himself of this moment with great pres- 
 ence of mind, took aim as cooly as if he was go- 
 ing to shoot a monkey — and two bullets pierced 
 the spine and breast of his companion, whose 
 diamond hung in safe custody upon his own 
 neck. 
 
 The crashing echo of the double shot reverbe- 
 rated among the gigantic angular masses of rock, 
 like rolling thunder. For an instant the mur- 
 derer stood there, like a statue, among the ruins 
 of Gomorrah — observed by the young German, 
 who had followed him at a distance, without be- 
 ing perceived. 
 
 The murderer approached the victim of his 
 frightful deed, with tottering steps ; he leaned 
 upon his gun, and bent forward, as if to satisfy 
 himself that the body was really a corpse. He 
 found no trace of life, and drew it aside a few 
 steps, into the marsh from which the rocky 
 masses arose. He then felt an involuntary im- 
 pulse to look towards the place where the youth's 
 unaverted gaze rested upon him ; but he saw 
 nothing to discompose him, and hastily loading 
 his gun, he sought his way through the swamp, 
 feeling, from time to time, at the " amalet" enclo- 
 sing the diamond worth twenty-five contos, which 
 he had bought for twenty, and had just paid for. 
 
 MA4N^^.fv^^ 
 
 ^>.^^^<NH» — 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MURDER FROM INTOLERANCE. 
 
 NoTWiTHSTANiuNG the different degrees of 
 cultivation to which, (from the circumstances of 
 their earlier lives,) Mr, Nols and Mr. Banko 
 had attained, a certain intelligence existed be- 
 tween them, in relation to the character and deal- 
 ings of their common master. Both had been 
 brought into his service, by the caprices of 
 chance, without their free choice, and they bore
 
 12« 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 their lot with a degree of philosophy, inasmuch 
 29 it could not be alteipd, until they could find 
 an opportunity to separate from him, without 
 burdenini; their consciences by co-operation or 
 participation in any wrongliil act. 
 
 Mr. Nols had perceived the design of the 
 young man, and understood the reasons why he 
 would not mount the mule. 
 
 He went up to him as soon as the two grimpei- 
 ro's had disappeared beliind the rocks and 
 bushes, and gave him the saddled animal, order- 
 ing a negro, upon anotlier mule, to wait near the 
 place until Banko should mount it, and follow 
 after the tropa with liim. This happened when 
 the youth had been witness to a deed which 
 filled him with liorror, and remained indelibly 
 impressed upon his mind. 
 
 Decidedly as the repulsion of antipathy, 
 founded in the nature of both, had liitherto sepa- 
 rated him from his master, there novi' arose 
 within him an equally bitter abhorrence of a 
 man, who, infected with the contagious distem- 
 per of our times, " of making rnoney at any 
 rate," and, driven from crime to crime, had com- 
 mitted murder and robbery with the same cool- 
 ness with which he had brought down a " sym- 
 pathy bird." 
 
 Mr. Nols had reached the before mentioned 
 venda ; but instead of the expected accommoda- 
 tion, for liim and his followers, he found wretch- 
 edness and despair. 
 
 The waning moon already lighted the wild 
 romantic landscape, in the foreground of wiiich 
 stood the venda, an old, massive stone building, 
 surrounded by thickly leaved fruit trees, and nu- 
 merous bananas, the gigantic leaves of which, 
 (often twenty or more feet long, from the succu- 
 lent handle to the point,) made a rustling, like 
 sheets of paper blown against each other by the 
 wind. 
 
 On a granite block, before the door, sat Kil- 
 kenny, an old Irishman, who had honorably 
 ended his military career, as a dragoon in the 
 British service, and for many years had served 
 the Brazilian family, as house stewai-d and chief 
 hostler. 
 
 He was one of those conscientiously exact 
 people, who not only give a horse drink, and take 
 care of him, because they have been hired to do 
 Buch a service, but because the horse requires his 
 food and drink regularly, and cannot procure it 
 for himself. 
 
 He cast a distrustful glance at the approach- 
 ing tropa and their white leader, who rode to- 
 wards liim on a short gallop, and bade him good 
 evening. 
 
 " Are you Protestant or Catholic ?" inquired 
 the old domestic of the venda, without returning 
 his greeting, or rising up from his low scat. 
 
 " Why do you ask that question .'" inquired 
 Mr. Nols, not a little astonislied at being thus 
 addressed ; " I am the arreiro of this little tropa, 
 and desire quarters for the night, my belief 
 ought not to come in question here, if I carry the 
 money with me for the reckoning." 
 
 " May the devil take me, if I ever harbor 
 another Protestant here in the venda, till I turn 
 my back upon it, which 1 hope will be soon," 
 grumbled the old dragoon to himself. 
 
 " What is the matter with you ? What has 
 happened here .' Are you alone in the venda ? Is 
 not the landlord here, or are you the landlord 1" 
 
 " To be sure I am landlord, since Senhor 
 Rraga, with his son, and our four negroes, were 
 murdered, last Sunday night, towards Monday, 
 poisoned — the supper was poisoned : the black 
 beans and the came seceo", altogether, were 
 poisoned ; and, by good luck, the two Senhoras 
 had ridden out on a visit. I went with them, 
 and we could not come home because of a thun- 
 der storm ; and we came back about noon on 
 Monday, and found the bodies — all the bodies ; 
 and Senhor Brac;a lived some hours after, and 
 declared, in his last moments, that no other had 
 poisoned him and his but the people over there, 
 the pious people, who, long ago, wanted to for- 
 bid us to receive people here on Sundays, and to 
 let the negroes play the marimba and the gourd 
 fiddle, and dancef here. All the bodies are 
 buried down there — down below, by the cross 
 there, and I was there to-day to set the other 
 crosses — for each one must have his cross ; and I 
 will roll a stone there, and carve an inscription 
 upon it — I, myself, with these hands. And that 
 is religion ! Bible religion '. Christian religion, 
 that must be ! I rode into the town to the Juis 
 de Foro and Capitam Mor, and informed them, 
 and took my oath to the last words of the old 
 Senhor. But what good did that do? where 
 was the proof.' And what a dying man says in 
 a fever, said the justice, was not suthcient accu- 
 sation, tliough everybody knows what has hap- 
 pened here during the last year — how the Bible 
 pious people have cheated us, and tried to coax 
 our negroes to become such saints as they are — 
 the poor negroes, that neither know what is 
 Protestant nor Catholic. But the holy gentlemen 
 up there use slaves as much for their gold wash- 
 ing, as we. Catholics, for our fazendas, and 
 allow the negroes no recreation on Sundays, and 
 call it 'Sabbath-breaking,' if the poor devils make 
 merry in their way, among themselves — the 
 poor negroes ! with their miramba and their 
 gourd fiddle !" 
 
 Mr. Nols heard this etfusion of old Kilkenny 
 with increasing attention, and without inter- 
 rupting him, as he could, by so doing, only 
 arrive at the information which he required. 
 
 " I took the two Senhoras into the town, to 
 their aunt, and am only waiting here until the 
 venda is sold," continued the Irishman ; " for 
 the Bragas cannot stay here any more. No Ca- 
 tholic would dare to keep a venda here — that is 
 natural. To-day, or to-morrow, the same means 
 would be taken to turn us out. I hear an agent 
 of the gentleman up there is already bargaining 
 for the purchase of the venda. Very natur.iUy, 
 tlie saints will now buy the venda ; and when 
 thirsty travellers come here on Sundays, they 
 will put them otl till Monday, and will establish 
 a depot here for all sorts of merchandise. That 
 is very natural. They are mad that I have 
 escaped them, and I am not sure of my life here 
 for an hour, for I am an Irishman, you must 
 know — an Irishman, and a Catholic ; and the 
 bruslimaker, who passes for a missionary, has 
 often made proposals to me, to change my reli- 
 gion, and leave the Bragas. 
 
 * Dried meat. 
 t The author vouches for the facts in these and similar 
 episodes, which characterize the interior situation of 
 of South America, the description of which be has mado 
 his especial object.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Ids 
 
 " I have all respect for a missionary, whether 
 Catholic or Protestant, if he is a man of educa- 
 tion, and can instruct others ; if he extends book 
 knowledge, and teaches the people what is right 
 and what is wrong ; what is one's duty, and what 
 is not; what should be done, and what should 
 be left undone ; bot to set one's self up as the 
 devil's outriding courier, to proclaim him, and 
 that he follows after him, and will drive all 
 Christendom to hell with his scourge ! I can 
 do that, too, myself, when I have no other way 
 of earning my bread. 
 
 "Here I have sat since Sunday, and waited until 
 I could go aivay — afraid to eat or drinU the least 
 thing, for fear of being poisoned, and so I only 
 eat bananas from the tree down there, and eggs 
 as soon as the hen lays them ; and if I am obliged 
 to eat any thing else, I give it first to our iha- 
 kakas* to try — but I should be sorry, even to poi- 
 son one of our makakas, for the old .Senhor loved 
 them, and gave them their breakfast, himself; 
 the good old Senhor, he loved men and makakas, 
 and would not have poisoned a makaka !" 
 
 The faithful servant of the Braga family con- 
 tinued, in this manner, to explain his present ]>o- 
 »ition, winch by no means served to recommend 
 the venda, for it was certainly critical to eat the 
 least thing in it. 
 
 In about half an hour, Mr. Banko came gal- 
 loping in, iri company vvitli the negro who had 
 staid behind. His countenance involuntarily 
 betrayed that something shocking had occurred. 
 Hardly had Nols, however, with all brevity 
 called out to tell him what had happened to the 
 family at the venda, than he had the presence of 
 mind to attribute to this intelligence, the agita- 
 tion which he evidently felt. 
 
 Mr. Nols made himself known to the old 
 dragoon, as a comrade, as he also had been in 
 tlie army for some years, and both assumed a 
 cordial barrack style, in which the religious 
 question came no more under consideration. 
 
 We touch here upon a subject which may be 
 misconceived by many of our Engli.yh and Amer 
 ican readers, and which, neverthelss, cannot be 
 passed over : the operations of the missionaries 
 of the English church, and of the Jesuits in 
 South America, as the objects of both are politi- 
 cal. Wo consider the principles of the doctrine 
 of Jesus, as the principles of equality, justice, 
 and love to man, as the basis of all develop- 
 ment of mankind, but we rigidly separate spirit- 
 less "forms" from the " spirit" of Christianity. 
 We honor and respect the missionary, of whatever 
 sect, who, penetrated by the above mentioned 
 convictions, endeavors to disseminate the princi- 
 ples of the religion of Jesus. 
 
 The circulation of the Bible, as the word of 
 God, and as a primitive historical record of the 
 human race, can, however, only exercise a bene- 
 ficial inlluence v/here a fundamental education 
 has prepared the way for the spirit which lies at 
 the foundation of the word. 
 
 The Old Testament, written with the childlike 
 unreserve of past ages, contains passages which 
 openly violate the moral sentiments of the reader, 
 awaken thoughts in the pure heart of youth, and 
 burden the youthful imagination with images 
 which can neither promote morality nor religion. 
 
 If some of the Bible societies, would prepare 
 
 * Makaka. — Monkey. 
 
 extracts from the Bible, with the omission of all 
 dangerous, evidently immoral, passages about 
 impurity, tinchastity, incest, etc., retaining, in- 
 stead, books full of truth and wisdom, and of 
 historical importance, as, for example, the book 
 of Jesus, the son of Sirach, and the books of 
 Maccabees, which the English church has 
 omitted in her edition of the Bible; if the Biijle 
 Were diminished, by a third part, of its volumin- 
 ous texts, the reading of it would be useful and 
 wholesome, to a well instructed man, in wh.nt- 
 ever quarter of the world he might be, and 
 could have no dan.gerous tendency for any boy 
 or girl : that is our view of the Bible. 
 
 As regards temperance societies, the writer of 
 this novel practices temperance, in consequence 
 of a good education. We doubt, however, 
 whether any temperance society will ever at- 
 tain its noble object of moral improvement, if the 
 rational education of the so called lower classes, 
 is not attended to, as zealously as the public ab- 
 stinence from all spiritous liquors is inculca- 
 ted. The use of brandy has caused more moral 
 and physical desolation than fire and aviford can 
 ever do. 
 
 The passion for drink, is an abyss in which 
 man is exposed to every other passion — tor by 
 degrading himself far below the brutes, he has 
 ceased to be a man. 
 
 Alcohol is a poison which takes hold of a 
 man's whole being, palsies his physical and 
 moral strength, and, by degrees, so to say, "dis- 
 solves his spirit by combustion." 1"o work 
 against the desolation and destruction caused by 
 such an evil, is the sacred duty of every man ; 
 but the renunciation of all spirituous drinks, in 
 itself, does not, by any means, make a moral man, 
 if passion and intemperance, in otlier respects, 
 are not likewise uprooted at the same time, and 
 the fulhlment of all the social duties is not re- 
 cognised as an incumbent condition. 
 
 According to Aristotle-Johnson, abstinence 
 and temperance signify about the same thing, 
 in the English language, but the etymology of 
 these words leads to entirely diflerent notions. 
 
 Temperance is a requirement of nature and 
 of reason, and should be recommended, espe- 
 cially to many peojde living " in the lusts of the 
 llesh," in a twofold sense. There are »pice» 
 which operate as prejudicially upon the blood 
 and nerves, as alcohol, and which are used to 
 e,\ces3 in tlie English manner of living ; as, for 
 example, pepper, the direct cfi'ect of which, 
 ought to be sulliciently well known. Though 
 married people may find the operation of pep- 
 per and similar spices convenient, they are al- 
 ways a destructive jioison tor growing children, 
 who, according to the English custom, are, so to 
 speak, fed with pepper. Who knows the direct 
 operation of mustard outwardly ajiplied, acts 
 just as unreasonably, when he lowers similar 
 plasters into the stomachs of children. We 
 will not here comment upon the English cus- 
 tom, which poisons new born children, by the 
 use of laudanum, or prepares them for national 
 dulness. The dissemination of dietetic instruc- 
 tions, prepared by an experienced physician, 
 would be, in our opinion, as useful and whole- 
 some as the distribution of spiritless tracts, 
 which show the " way to heaven," without 
 pointing out the way to live rationally on earth. 
 But the English literature, up to the present
 
 126 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 time, lies imder a stronger censure than the Ger- 
 man, Italian, Russian, etc.; a censure which 
 does not, as in those countries, keep down the 
 human mind with bayonets, but which is sus- 
 tained by the absolute paralysing of moral free- 
 dom by prejudice, and is kept up by hypocrisy. 
 
 There prevails in England, and anicmg English 
 people, the absolute despotic law '* not to touch 
 upon certain subjects, because they ought to re- 
 main untouched." But this last reason is Britisli 
 ttbsolnte despotism, and is opposed to allenligcit- 
 enment. 
 
 No one ever contended more energetically 
 against the sanctimoniousness of the rich, and 
 the hypocrisy of external Sabbath keeping — 
 against praying in the corner of the street, and 
 the hypocritical Pharisees — than did Jesus. 
 
 British censure* would forbid us to draw 
 effective parallels between the church of our 
 century and the Jewish priesthood, against whom 
 Jesus contended, until the priests and Pharisees, 
 at last, brought him to the cross. The inspired 
 sayings of Jesus would hare received as heavy a 
 censure from the Jewish priests and Pharisees, 
 in Jerusalem, in case a press had existed there, 
 as would a bookseller of the present day in Lon- 
 don, who, against the censure of prejudice, 
 should undertake the publication of the language 
 of sound reason, in the exegesis of the admirable 
 epistle of James, t which sets forth moral free- 
 dom, and places works above words and a blind 
 faith. 
 
 " Sectarian raethodists, and pietists ! 
 
 And what more we may ever call tliem ; all 
 
 But serve to show that each man feels desire 
 
 To raise himself above this earthly clay, 
 
 And stand erect in spirit^lbr the proof 
 
 Of faith and of religion, the foundations 
 
 Of inward life, which marks the ditference 
 
 Between the man and brute ; for, e'en in brutes, 
 
 We see instinct, which often puts to sliame 
 
 The dulncss of mankind. But the miud, 
 
 In aspiration for a hij^her grade ; 
 
 The soul's presentiment ; the faith and thirst 
 
 For spiritual life 5 the consciousness, 
 
 AVithin himself, of spiritual nature, 
 
 Belongs to " man" alone. Without it here, 
 
 Man ceases to be human — b**ars the form 
 
 And figure of a man, and is a bnite."t 
 
 In our more elevated consciousness, lies the 
 contemplation of tliis earthly life, from a higher 
 point of view of moral freedom, without which 
 there can be no virtue and no sin. The notion 
 of an eartlily existence, " cursed by God" from its 
 commencement, through the fall of man and 
 original sin, contradicts, evitlently, the notion of 
 divine love and justice, which lie at the founda- 
 tion of the religion of Jesus — for such an exist- 
 ence would burden, with the same "damning 
 curse," all endeavors after moral improvement, 
 every work and deed of love. 
 
 We return to our story. The tropa was placed 
 under shelter, in a building adjoining the venda, 
 and as good a supper prejiared, as was possible 
 under surrounding circumstances, with security 
 against poison. 
 
 • When writing these lines, the author did not expect 
 to meet the same censure of dulne^s in hypocrites in the 
 Uuited States, endeavoring to suppress the novel "Do- 
 loies.'' — [Note in correcting the proofs of "Dolores," 
 April the 23th, 18-16.] HiRRo. 
 
 1 Which Luther wished to strike out, when he came 
 to an understanding with the German princes. 
 
 } Fragment of a dramatic Poem. If. 
 
 Banko had little appetite, and often gared 
 thouglitfully before him, which did not particu- 
 larly surprise his companion. 
 
 It was long before the naturalist appeared 
 He came at last. There Was nothing in his man- 
 ner that could have excited the least suspicion. 
 His countenance wore tlie same expression of 
 cold insensibility which was always peculiar to 
 him, and his eyes avoided, as they always did, 
 meeting the eyes of any otlier man. 
 
 " Is not Mr. Dujour here yet ? How does that 
 happen ?" he inquired, as he looked around him 
 with adroit dissimulation, and received a nega- 
 tive answer to the first question " I left him 
 down there in the ravine, using hi.s mineral 
 hammer, and I thought best not to disturb him. 
 A gi'impelro likes solitude in his researches. 
 But he must be here soon." 
 
 " If he docs not come within gunshot of one the 
 saints, and his person is not mistaken for mine !" 
 interrupted Kilkenny ; and Mr. Closting now 
 learned in what manner the venda had been 
 depopulated. 
 
 "Dreadful!" exclaimed he; "unheard of! 
 murder upon murder ! And all this can h.appen 
 here with impunity — without justice ! To what 
 political party did this family belong .'" he 
 further inquired. " That is, unfortunately, the 
 chief thing here. Religion and politics are here 
 one. The English are no faroupiULis, but go 
 with the Caramuros. Prob.ibly your old master 
 was an adherent of the faroupilhas." 
 
 " He was a Catholic, as I tell you," replied 
 Kilkenny. " As to politics, I only know so far 
 as this, that we have sometimes hid faroupilhas 
 here in their flight, and that the permanenlos 
 have, at times, neld their inquisition liere, or 
 inspection, as they call it ; and that the two young 
 Seuhors,who are betrothed to the two daughters, 
 are both faroupilhas. That is well known." 
 
 " Then, alas ! there is nothing to be done !" 
 said the slave trader ; "no accusation can be sus- 
 tained, no process instituted. Every thing is 
 against the two daughters ; and who will testify 
 against the Englishmen ?" 
 
 " That is just what the gentlemen in the town 
 said !" replied Kilkenny ; " they said the same 
 thing, and the afl'air was suppressed. ' Where 
 there is no accuser, there is no judge.' And the 
 venda will now be sold, and f,Ul into the hand:! 
 of the Englishmen — at least they will buy it, 
 and have the control of it — that is very natural." 
 
 " Quite natural I" affirmed Mr. Closting, and 
 again expressed his surprise at the long stay of 
 his companion. 
 
 " 1 would not give two patacks for his life !" 
 said Kilkenny , " for I know certainly that they 
 waylay me, and it is only here at the venda that 
 they will not shoot me. They have some shams 
 left^they dare not despatch me here at the door. 
 If the fanatical brushmaker choses to oiler a 
 negro a couple of patacks, and at the same time 
 holds up hell in flames before his eyes, and tells 
 him that he can save himself from the devil, if 
 he will shoot down or stab a Catholic, no tra- 
 veller is safe here at twilight, whose skin is 
 white, like mine, and who, like me, wears 
 horseman's boots, a straw hat, and an old poncho, 
 that Sr. Braga presented to me — may God pre- 
 serve it, for he gave it to me — he who lies below 
 there He has his cross at his grave, and tlu) 
 otliers shall have theirs."
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 127 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 " The g;rimpeiro was dregsed just as you have 
 describecl," said Mr. Banko, who was busied in 
 emptying his master's game bags, which con- 
 tained some birds, among which were the two 
 "inseparables."' 
 
 " It is not improbable," he continued, with a 
 sharp look at Mr. Nols, that he might have been 
 shot or stabbed, through mistake. 
 
 " The thing appears quite probable," inter- 
 posed Mr. Closting. " I am only sorry that I did 
 not stay near him. He seemed to think that he 
 could discover another mine, and in such cases 
 a grimpeiro likes to be left alone." 
 
 Nols had closely observed the countenance and 
 the subsequent deportment of the youth, and had 
 remarked more than enough to confirm his for- 
 mer suspicions. The arrival of their master 
 without attendance, removed all doubt respect- 
 ing the fate of his travelling companion. It ap- 
 peared to Nols not only probable, but certain, 
 that Mr. Closting had made sure work with Mr. 
 Dujour, and put him quietly to rest, but he could 
 not clearly understand the particular design, or 
 the peculiar motive for the act, since, up to this 
 time, neither he nor Banko knew any thing ofthe 
 diamond. He, nevertheless, followed the exam- 
 ple of his confidant, and behaved as if he had 
 not the least suspicion, as he hoped with time 
 and with Banko 's aid, to obtain some explana- 
 tion of this mysterious affair. 
 
 " Perhaps he went another way," observed he, 
 talcing a part in the conversation, " and has gone 
 to a fazenda some distance from here. We saw 
 some houses up above there, as we passed the 
 mountain." 
 
 " It is possible that he may have taken another 
 way, and that we shall find him at home to- 
 morrow evening, although he was on foot," in- 
 terrupted Mr. Closting. 
 
 " Sr. Dujour Daily no go home a foot!" said 
 Francisco, one of the two negroes in the service 
 of the grimpeiro, who attended him on Minas 
 horses as a sort of body guard. 
 
 " Sr. Dujour Daily come here to night, else 
 he be dead, murdered 1 No right for .Sr. Branco* 
 leave he lone in hollow, in de mountains ! dat 
 no right. I no had ride on wid Bastian if I tink 
 dat. Me ride now look whar Sr. Dujour Daily 
 stay. Come Bastian, we go look for S'nhor '." 
 
 The two negroes sprang upon their horses, and 
 galloped off by the same way that they had come. 
 Banko expressed a desire to accompany them, 
 which his master, however, found superfluous, 
 remarking that he knew the grimpeiro to be a 
 singular person, who often had strange fancies, 
 and did not like to be observed and watched. 
 
 " At any rate" continued he, " in the morning, 
 we will set out on our journey to his dwelling, 
 where it is to he hoped we shall find him. if 
 not, then I will take the needful steps— in refer- 
 ence to the suspicion that prevails here, in con- 
 nexion with this- dreadful murder of a whole 
 family." 
 
 Banko had cleaned the two birds, and tem- 
 porarily prepared them for preservation ; de- 
 signing them as memorials for himself, without 
 allowing the murderer, in the least, to perceive 
 that he had seen any thing ; as he well knew 
 that he would thereby endanger his own life. 
 Mr. Closting had already lain down to rest, when 
 
 * White mail. 
 
 Nols found a fit moment to speak to his confi- 
 dant without being overheard. 
 
 Banko related, with manifest embarrassment, 
 and anxiety, what he had seen, and where the 
 event took place, with all the attentling circum- 
 stances, as well as he had been able to observe 
 them at a distance, behind bushes and rocks. 
 
 " I cannot tell what led me to suspect that 
 something like this would hapjien," said Nols; 
 " but I had a singular presentiment, and you 
 seem likewise to have experienced the same feel- 
 ing, \Yhen you declined riding the mule. We 
 have yet to find out what was the object of this 
 murder." 
 
 " Which we probably shall, when we go to the 
 grimpeiro's dwelling. Perhaps, Mr. Dujour had 
 given him his money, or something of great 
 value, for safe keeping. We can only learn that 
 from his family. His father, however, is de- 
 ranged, as Sebastian has told us, and there will 
 hardly be any thing reasonable got out of him ; 
 but he has some mulheres de cama,* up there, 
 and probably one of them is acquainted with hia 
 circumstances." 
 
 The two negroes of the grimpeiro, who had 
 followed upon his track, now returned. Sebas- 
 tian sprang from his horse, and sought the 
 two %vhites, to give them the information that 
 they had actually found the corpse of their mas- 
 ter. 
 
 " S'nhor Branco shoot he !" cried they, with 
 clenched fists, " and we make him pay for it ! 
 S'nhor good branco, and no beat de nigger to death 
 like S'nhora Branca, t down below dere ; sho 
 murder slave wid chigote. Your S'nhor have 
 shoot our S'nhor Dujour !" 
 
 Nols hastily put his hand upon the negroes' 
 tliick lips, to indicate to him that he must be 
 silent, it he valued his life — since Mr. Clo.sting, 
 in case the suspicion was well founded, would 
 despatch him also, that he might tell no tales. 
 
 The negro understood this, and thanked the 
 white for the warning." But we must bury de 
 body," continued Francisco ; " him lie in marsh, 
 and we no have spade." 
 
 " I must yet see the body myself," whispered 
 Nols, after'a pause ; " I will venture to go with 
 these two, and help them." 
 
 "That will not answer now," said Banko; 
 " we must arrange it differently. Hark you, 
 Sebastian I" said he to the negro. " You two must 
 not let it be known that you have found the 
 body^-do you understand .' Early in the morn- 
 ing, before we break up, you must ride bach 
 some dL-itance, as if you were looking for your 
 master, and then follow us slowly home, and 
 there you must fir.^t tell that you have found the 
 body, and where it lies. Mr. Dujour's niulheres 
 will then desire to have it buried, and the afiliir 
 will be more inquired into, at lea^t, more known. 
 If we inform our Senhor hero, that you have 
 found tlie body, b.e will order it to be buried, 
 and the whole affair will remain a secret, for he 
 can deny our testimony. 
 
 The negro Sebastian had sufficient sound com- 
 mon sense to see into the propriety of this plan 
 He burst into lamentations over the death of his 
 good master, who had been very kind to his lilack 
 people, and especially to the black women, and 
 had given his slaves many free hours to work for 
 
 • Brazilian expression for concubine, f ^Vhite lady.
 
 123 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 iheinselves, and earn something, that they 
 might, by degrees, purcliase their own freedom. 
 Both negroes were again strictly enjoined to 
 silence, especially towards the slaves of the 
 tropa, with whose characters they were, for the 
 most part, unacqiuiinteii. They promised the 
 necessary caution, and went to rest, that they 
 might depart at an early hour in the morning. 
 
 — '^^fV^'f'f^^ 
 
 >./v>r^.A^>»- 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE LUNATIO. 
 
 Whether the naturalist had pleasant dreams 
 and a comfortable night's rest, as no one inquired 
 the next morning, he did not think it worth his 
 while to mention. Perhaps his slee]) was not 
 particularly refreshing, for he was stirring very 
 early, urging his arreiro to break up, " and to 
 quit this murderous place as soon as possible." 
 The information that the two negroes of the 
 (rrimpciro had gone hack to look for their master, 
 did not appear to surprise him. 
 
 " It is to be hoped that we shall find him at 
 home, or that he will make his appearance there 
 aoon after us, and his two blacks, likewise," he 
 observed, and mounted his mule. 
 
 The venda of old Braga lay at the foot of a Scr- 
 ra,* up along the steep and broken sides of which 
 the road now led, oflering, at every step, to the 
 traveller, who cherished a sense of the grandeur 
 of nature, an extensive prospect over the romantic 
 Valley, and the various grouping of the rocks in 
 the neighborhood, which assumed dilierent forms 
 at every turning of the badly constructed road. 
 
 The sun had already attained a considerable 
 height, as Banko, in his chase after butterflies, 
 arrived upon a summit, which suddenly afforded 
 a prospect into a second valley, if this word may 
 be applied to a space bounded on the horizon, at 
 a distance of full sixty miles, by an azure moun- 
 tain chain, enclosing again, however, in an ex- 
 tended semicircle, mountain after mountain, 
 Campos after campos, valley after valley, in 
 manitbld variety, dotted over with fai-ms and 
 villages. 
 
 Amid this scenery, upon a mountain ridge 
 many hundred feet high, at some miles distance 
 from the point where the youth was stand- 
 ing, there appeared, in an admirably picturesque 
 situation, a tolerably large sized town, whoso 
 white spires and cupolas projected above the 
 equally white walls of palace-like dwellings. 
 The t»wn was encompassed by that variegated 
 green, which there maintains the same freshness 
 in one eternal summer, wliose botanical nomen- 
 clature many assiduous naturalists, of worthier 
 standing than Mr. Closting, and less pedantic 
 than IJr. Merbold, have set down in their re- 
 ports, and preserved in their scientific works. 
 
 The view of this town had something in it of 
 magical surprise for the youth, from its being 
 partly unexpected to him. Mr. Closting seemed 
 to have remained intentionally silent, a.s to what 
 district they were in, and Mr. Nols's topographi- 
 cal knowledge did not sulEce to give him the 
 
 • Sctta.— A ridge of mountaias. 
 
 required information. His imagination was, at 
 the time, occupied by the gloomiest images of 
 scenes of murder ! The world, for him, h.^d be- 
 come a desert, peopled by bloodthirsty animals 
 in human Ibrm. 
 
 The whole scene bore the character of a ma- 
 jestic dignity, regulated by a cultivated taste 
 and a sense of the beautiful, which was devel- 
 oped in this paradise, in the sublime grandeur 
 of nature. 
 
 The balm of a bracing atmosphere, aromatic 
 witli the various perfumes of spicy plants from 
 the depths of the valleys, to the sparse vegeta- 
 tion waving over the gigantic heights, swelled 
 the breast of the youth, and he remained stand- 
 ing, absorbed in reflections upon earthly life and 
 sublunary happiness, upon life'.s sorrows and 
 pleasures. 
 
 " VVho can find fault with the Brazilians," 
 thought he, " for being proud of their nationality, 
 and loving their fatherland .' such a wonderfully 
 charming fatherland ! and which, during so short 
 a period of white population, has made such pro- 
 gress towards cultiv;ition and improvement. 
 VVho can blame them for hating those men, 
 who turn up the earth here for gold — who carry 
 away their gold and precious stones, and en- 
 deavor to plant priestly dulness in this highly fa- 
 vored soil. Not far from my home on the Rhine 
 is a tavern, on which these words are displayed 
 in large letters : ' No Jesuit.s admitted 
 HERE !' May this inscription also be placed 
 over the gates of this Brizilian town, in order that 
 the men who wish to enjoy themselves there in 
 the lap of nature, may not be disgusted by mod- 
 ern fashion and priestly arrogance." 
 
 Amongst the countless variegated butterflies, 
 which fluttered around him, a peculiarly splen- 
 did pair rose up from the opposite valley. 
 
 " And must I take you .'" thought he, follow- 
 ing with his eyes, the sportive flight of the faith- 
 ful pair, without moving his feet. " Must 1 take 
 you, and kill you ? You, at least, enjoy your shore 
 existence without stealing and robbing from your 
 fellow creatures — inse|iarable in love — alone ho- 
 lier, perhaps, than the sensuality of many men 
 who abuse the word. Shall I take you, that my 
 master, as he calls himself, may make money 
 out of you, and that a Briton, or Anglicised Euro- 
 pean, may judge you according to your beauty ,' 
 No I but according to the money that they have 
 paid for you. Fly away, and enjoy your lives. 
 1 have committed too many murders upon your 
 race, from this day, (brward, 1 will violate no 
 soul's life under a butterfly's covering." 
 
 The youth hurried after the limping negroes 
 under similar, certainly very sentimental and un- 
 practical reflections, and was forced to make up 
 his mind to commit the appointed number of 
 murders upon the symbols of the soul's life, until 
 the evening approached, and tlie tropa reached 
 the town of the grimpeiro. 
 
 If money is the source of all evil, and all 
 misery, it is not strange to meet with so much 
 evil and human misery in full bloom, in the El- 
 dorado of Brazil, as it now contains. 
 
 In contrast with the charming variety of the 
 environs, which had excited the youth's admi- 
 ration on the summit of the rock, and here and 
 there, almost daily until now, the prospect un- 
 folded itself, by degrees, of an unfriendly, cora- 
 fortloss, depopulated desert. Dilapidated butt
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 129 
 
 oacl houses, part of them inhabited as ruins by 
 poverty stricken human figures ; villages with- 
 out jiopulation, and here, and there, a little 
 town that looked like a wretched village ; a 
 scanty vegetation ia the gardens and planta- 
 tions, from the neglect of human hands, were all 
 united into a tragical whole : It was a region of 
 gold mines, and diamond rivulets, stripped to the 
 last little grain, and still dug through by the 
 insatiable avarice of civilized men. Millions 
 upon millions, h.ad here been taken from tlieso 
 called mother earth, and had been misapplied 
 and aliused by her degraded children. 
 
 The ruins of Sodom and Gomorrah might con- 
 vey an impression, similar to the one now created 
 by these wrecks of a rich past — from which not 
 a single pillar projects, that might serve, by 
 its beauty and ornaments, as an evidence to fu- 
 ture generations, that men here had a sense of 
 noble forms, of the beautiful in art or nature. 
 The fearful image of gain — which seeks to turn 
 even the earth, with all its treasures, into money 
 with no higher aim, than to make money for 
 money's sake, without any other object in life, 
 without an intellectual enjoyment of life, be- 
 came impressed more strongly upon the mind of 
 tlie youtli, the farther he advanced in the re- 
 gions of Eldorado. Here were living skeletons, 
 covered over with skins of every shade of light 
 and dark complexion, that seemed ,as if only 
 saved from starviition by the mild gifts of na- 
 ture, which aiforded tlicm a scanty supply of 
 Indian corn, bananas, and fresh water. Bound 
 to their home by the habit of wretchedness, 
 they crept around the huts of their black ances- 
 tors, who here had served the gold mania of 
 licentious Europeans, while the later genera- 
 tions of mulattoes had become free by law ; and 
 impoverished, neglected, and breadless, by the 
 exhaust,ation of tlie mines, and the heartle.^sness 
 of their oppressors whom they had enriched 
 
 The wretchedness of similar places in the 
 mountains of Brazil, which liave enriclieil the 
 world with millions in gold and diainouds, with- 
 out alleviating the miseries of the people of 
 Europe, in the countries to wliicli all tliis wealth 
 was transferred, is a subject for the most pro- 
 found and serious contemplation, wliich we can- 
 not here exhaust. 
 
 The Europeans, by means of slaves, dig into 
 the interior of thee.arth, without cultivating its 
 surface, and affording the population the means 
 of existence, from the resources of industry. 
 They employe"! no mulatto or white person, on 
 day wages, in their gold mines — because they 
 cither carried negro slaves with them, or coulil 
 liire them there from speculators, who settled 
 there, with their slaves, for this purpose alone, 
 and in their dolee fare nieiUe, pocketed the 
 weekly or monthly hire, and in this manner en- 
 riched themselves likewise. 
 
 As soon as such a mine became exhausted, the 
 Europeans disappeared with their gold and their 
 negroes, and the unfortunate inliabitants re- 
 mained breadless. The wretclu'dncss of such 
 places, as, for example, the miserable village of 
 IsambiS, in Minas Geraes, has originated, it is 
 true, the Portuguese proverb, " Das miserias de 
 Isamb^, libera nos domine !" but they do not .ap- 
 pear to have reflected, that it was the duty of 
 men directly to relieve IsambiS, and all other 
 unprovisioned places, from their miisery. 
 17 
 
 The tropa reached the mean dwelling of old 
 Mr. Dally, at the and of an equally mean vil- 
 lage, through which flowed the brook that was 
 the former .source of the Eldorado. The old man 
 was engaged in making gold. Eegular ditchea, 
 cut crosswise, were dug on each bank of the 
 brook, elevated on the cilge with the sand that 
 had been thrown out of them, and carefully 
 d.ammed up at the ends. These served to inter- 
 cept the gold enriched water, which was re- 
 tained until it deposited its sediment. The 
 water was then slowly drawn off, and the sandy 
 mud on the bottom of the artificial canal, con- 
 tained gold dust : and in other brooks, diamonds 
 were obtained by a similar process. 
 
 A gigantic negress, with a short Italian to- 
 bacco pipe, in her wide mouth, did the honors to 
 theguests. ItwasSra. Motura,oneof the"mul- 
 heres de cama" of the fazendeiro, Mr. Dujour. 
 " Do not disturb him," whispered she to the 
 naturalist, as he approached the old man, who, 
 stretched upon the ground, groped about with 
 both hands in the mud of a canal, and carefully 
 took out the pebbles, putting them in a little box 
 beside them. " Do not disturb him — he some 
 times has convulsions when he is interrupted; 
 He must first have his .appointed quantity ; 
 there lie the scales ; he weighs his gold and his 
 diamonds, and packs them carefully away, and 
 thea he calls for his supper, and a negro brino-a 
 him letters, as if the letter carrier had been 
 here." 
 
 Mr. Banko had placed himself near Closting, 
 and looked upon the old man, whose counte- 
 nance bore the distorted expression of quiet 
 lunacy, amidst the traces of forraer noble fea- 
 tures. Coarse white hair fell over high, broad 
 forehead, and his unsteady light brown eye 
 stared into the mud, and saw nothing but gold 
 and diamonds. .Jacket and pantaloons, stiffened 
 with the dirt of the ground in which he groped 
 about, formed his attire. A tin star on hi3 
 bi-eaat, many variegated ribands in his button- 
 holes, and a knit band under his knee, for tha 
 "order of tlic garter," were his ornaments. 
 
 He ended his day's work, took up the scales, 
 atid ap])eared uueommouly satisfied with the 
 result. He then placed himself in a command- 
 ing posture, while he .addressed a troop of ne- 
 groes whom nobody saw but himself. He praised 
 one, and scolded another — complained ofthisone 
 for having incurred the suspicion of swallowinc 
 a diamond, and ordered one of the others to shut 
 him up, and give liim a bur-glass full of castor 
 oil, and not to let him ont until it had operated. 
 After these measures, he tottered to a beech 
 near the door, slowly seated himself, all tha 
 while staring before him, without taking notice 
 of any one, ordered his supper, and inquired if 
 the letter-carrier had come ? (who, by-the-byfe, 
 only made his appearance once a month at the 
 utmost, unless a p.articul.ar occasion rexuirod a 
 letter bag to be forwarded into the mountains. 
 Nestor, an old eervant of the house, camo 
 running out, and wiped the sweat from his brow 
 with his bare hand, as if he had hurried there 
 from a distance, and handed tlie newly arrived 
 letters to the grimpeiro, which he had already 
 unfolded a hundred times, they having been 
 daily put into other envelopes. 
 
 He prepared for reading with peculiar zeal, 
 placed apair of spectacles, without glasses, upoa
 
 130 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 his meagre nose, and first contemplated the post 
 mark and stamp of each cover, before he broke 
 it open. Without noticing whether he held the 
 writing right or wrong side up, he read, after his 
 manner, the important correspondence, extem- 
 porizing the contents of the letters with wonder- 
 ful facility, and in an exhaustless variety en- 
 riched by his remarks, and manifested iii his 
 improvisations the fixed idea of his insanity. 
 
 The unfortunate man had been in this situa- 
 tion, since he had sold, through an agent, a con- 
 siderable supply of diamonds to an European 
 court, and received the payment for them in 
 government paper, which had, unfortunately, 
 become worthless, and ruined him. He con- 
 sidered himself now the minister of finance to 
 the fallen dynasty, and wished to overturn the 
 ai>cient dynasties in all parts of the world, and 
 found new ones in their stead, that he might 
 make a successful business, and marry his co- 
 lored daughters to legitimate princes. 
 
 " No letter to-day from my principal agent .' 
 that is very singular!" he muttered to himself, 
 contemplating the envelopes. "0,yes ! here it 
 is ! that is his handwriting and seal, and the 
 Lisbon post mark. ' Lisbon, the 4th of May.' 
 May ! this is the 15th of August — September, or 
 January. The date is correct ; the letter has not 
 been long coming. ' May it please your Ex- 
 cellency — 1 have received your orders of the 
 tenth of last month, and in a private audience 
 with his majesty, I requested him to prolong 
 your leave of absence six months, which he has 
 been graciously pleased to grant.' 
 
 "Excellent! I can remain here six months 
 longer, and direct the mines of Brazil in person ; 
 that is excellent ! 
 
 *' * As concerning the marriage of your daugh- 
 ter, Senhora Amphitrite, with his royal high- 
 ness the Grand Duke Alexander ; his highness 
 is approaching man's estate, and I have sent the 
 Baror von Dachspot as envoy extraordinary in 
 this matter, tc St. Petersburgh, who will return 
 before the arrival of your excellency, and bring 
 back the imperial consent with him.' 
 
 " Then that afl'air, is arranged ! excellent ! 
 Senhnra Amphitrite, will be Grand Duchess of 
 Russia, and in time Empress. 
 
 " ' 1 have learned that the great diamond of the 
 Russian crown has been broken by a pistol shot, 
 fired by the emperor at a rock in Poland ; the 
 ball bounded back in a most surprising manner, 
 against the crown. I have received the commis- 
 sion to replace it, with a new one of similar 
 weight.' 
 
 "Hem! my son's diamond is not heavy enough, 
 otherwise it would be an excellent opportunity ; 
 it has fire like a sun. Well, I must see, and pro- 
 duce one for my Amphiti-ite's future father-in- 
 law. 
 
 " ' It is a most remarkable fact in regard to the 
 European crowns of modern days, that they will 
 not sit steadily upon anointed heads; every 
 now and then one falls down and breaks, and 
 the boys in the streets, peH each other with 
 the diamonds.' 
 
 " The young dogs ! I %vill send over a dozen 
 chicotes, that will soon subdue the ' rascals.' 
 
 " ' Her royal highness, the Princess Victoria, 
 begs your excellency to send her an Ethiopian 
 prince, naturalized in Brazil, as chamberlain for 
 herself, and as adjutant for her future husband. 
 
 She sends you, herewith, the measure of the 
 ' Apollo of Belvidere,' from the British museum 
 taken with her own hand ; in height, hips, 
 thighs, calves, etc., to be as far as possible iden- 
 tical. It will be required, moreover, that the 
 said mulatto prince should be legitimate on the 
 mother's side, and musical ; he must also pos- 
 sess dramatic talent, and be able to play Othel- 
 lo — from state economy, to save the enormous 
 salaries of the singers in the Italian opera.' 
 
 " Very well, I will take a note of that. I 
 know a legitimate Ethiopian princess ; she be- 
 longs to our neighbor over the way, and is an ex- 
 quisite laundress ; she is old enough, and has 
 grown up sons — mulattoes. I will copy the 
 measure ; it is given here below, in the letter, in 
 feet and inches, all connect. It shall be seen too." 
 
 " ' There is good prospect of marrying all of 
 your excellency's daughters to German princes, 
 whose number is more than sufficient.' 
 
 " Yes, I know that, but it does not suit me — 
 such a duodecimo German prince, with two and 
 a half soldiers for a garrison, and one and a half 
 riding horses in the court stable. No; my Sen- 
 horas aim a little higher ! nothing will come of 
 that ! they never send over orders for crown 
 diamonds. Bohemian stones are even too high 
 priced for them ! If it were a prince of Aus- 
 tria ! or Russia — or Bavaria — very well, that 
 might answer ; but Bavaria is constitutional, and 
 I have nothing more to do [with constitutions — I 
 require legitimacy ! legitimacy, and a guarantee 
 for my diamonds ! 
 
 " ' There is quite a prospect for a couple of 
 dozen dynasties in the United States of North 
 America ; they have no nobility, but there is a 
 lively demand there for that article.' 
 
 " Capital ! something may be made out of 
 that ! I will reply by the next post ; that must 
 be attended to. 
 
 " ' Valets of European princes are already 
 sent to the United States, and received there with 
 the greatest enthusiasm, as representatives of 
 their monarchs and other sovereigns, furnished 
 with secret dynastic commisions and powers ! 
 Fifteen per cent, increase in the price of cotton 
 in fifteen years, guarantied to each dynasty — of 
 course there is hardly a doubt but that the afiair 
 will succeed,especiaily in some particular States.' 
 
 " That looks very reasonable. 1 could not have 
 heard any thing more desirable. 
 
 " ' There is a great throng of future North 
 American noblesse in the royal zoological gar- 
 dens and menageries of European princes, as a 
 debut and preparatory school for the necessary 
 manners and etiquette.' 
 
 " That is likewise quite in accordance with the 
 spirit of the times, and can do no sort of harm. 
 
 " ' Mrs. Whiteskin a widow, who has become 
 worth a million and a half, by the death of her 
 husband, requires from you a gamifure of dia- 
 monds, of about the value of half a million, 
 that she may carry one third of her worth in 
 plain sight. She is going from here to Paris, for 
 exhibition, to show herself in the Theatre Eran- 
 gais, and in her box at the Italian opera.' 
 
 " I will take note of that — of the order; the lady 
 does quite right ; but she is very modest. Why 
 does she not wear her whole worth in sight, like 
 ray Amarosa — who knows that her worth consisf.i 
 in her beauty, and goes almost entirely naked, not 
 from vanity, but because she wi^es to be mar-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 131 
 
 f kil, and wiU not deceive any one My f'itiir<> 
 fions-in-!aw 'by the grace of God,' may know 
 what they get Many a man marries a woman, 
 and when she is seen by the light, she is a skele- 
 ton, covered with untanned leather. ' All is not 
 gold that glitters,' and cotton is just now a cheap 
 article for the toilet. 
 
 " There is a letter from Bnenos Ayre^— from 
 my chai'ge d'affaires there, I am very curious 
 
 " ' The monarchical principle makes the most 
 brilliant progress here, where only the crown is 
 yet wanting, for which yon must furnish the dia- 
 monds, if possible, in e.\change for buffulo hides, 
 for Rosas has already sent the gold which is re- 
 quired for the crown, with all his other saving-s, 
 to the bank of England, for safe keeping,' 
 
 " In exchange for buffalo hides ! Is the future 
 monarch of La Plata crazy, or is he a merchant .' 
 What should I do with so many bufi'alo hides? 
 I should like to know ! There are oxen enough in 
 Brazil, native and foreign, that carry their hides 
 to market. I only use a few hides for my 
 gold dust, and require no cargoes from Rozas ! 
 That does not suit me at all ! No ! a dynasty 
 that traffics with ox hides, cannot trade with 
 me. I desire legitimacy and ready money— I 
 will have nothing to do with legitimate oxen ; 
 I might, perhaps, barter diamonds against men — 
 black or white, it makes no difference. "The 
 people must pay taxes for my diamonds, that is 
 natural. ' Telestnotre plaisir !' And so a quasi 
 legitimate citizen, or oxen king, may sell his sub- 
 jects, and his oxen, where he will, and to whom 
 he will. Stupid stuff! ox hides, for diamonds ! 
 Who ever heard of such a thing before. But what 
 else can be expected from a Gaucho — an ox dri- 
 ver who wishes to be king, and will not spend 
 much on his crown ! Let him marry a legitimate 
 princess, and he will soon carry another orna- 
 ment on his forehead, which has a great family 
 likeness to the head ornaments of oxen." 
 
 After this monologue, the old man stared long 
 before him, as if some image had attracted his 
 fancy, and afterwards looked round on the by- 
 standers, and at length upon Mr. Closting. 
 
 " Where have yx)\i left my son .' and where is 
 his diamond .'" he inquired, rising from his seat, 
 as if he would seize the stranger by the throat. 
 
 The murderer turned pale, and stepped aside 
 some paces, but by no means lost his self-posses- 
 sion, though he cast a glance sideways at his ne- 
 groes, and beckoned to Matura to take hold of 
 the old man, Matura, stepped bet%veen the guest 
 and the lunatic, but appeared suddenly to have 
 become observant of the protracted stay of hei- 
 man, as she called Mr. Dujour. 
 
 " Did not my man travel with your tropa ?" she 
 asked the naturalist ; " I thought he had only 
 staid behind accidentally, and would be here di- 
 rectly ?" 
 
 " Who are you ? and where have you lefr my 
 son .' and where is his diamond .'" repeated the 
 lunatic, as Mr. Closting was about to begin his 
 reply, 
 
 " Be q\iiet, father !" whispered Matura, in 
 the old man"3 ear, at the same time taking his 
 hand, " This gentleman is a friend of your son. 
 Sr. Xavier will soon be here. This gentleman 
 knows nothing of the diamond !" 
 
 " Who are you ?" said the lunatic to Closting, 
 " an European ? Let us see you once ! What is 
 written on your forehead ,' I wish to read it ! 
 
 Take ofT your hat '. lake off yonr hat, I eay, or I 
 will call the life guard I my grenadiers are down 
 there, in front of the palace. Let me tee you, I 
 say ! 1 wish to read who you are ! the good God 
 writes a legible hand, and men's countenances 
 do not lie ! Show yourself, I tell you '." 
 
 " Let the old man be taken to bed," wliisperd 
 Mr. Closting in the ear of a young negress, who 
 stood near him, with a mulatto child in her 
 arms. 
 
 " Now I see the writing through your straw 
 hat— th.ere it is ! but you, yourself, know best 
 what you are worth, and the negroes here, have 
 no occasion to know it, for they are negroes, 
 and you are a branco. Ha, ha, ha !" he laughed, 
 frightfully ; " a branco ! a respectable branco !" 
 
 He observed him again, with a fixed gaze, and 
 continued : " Of what nation are you .' What na- 
 tion has the honor to call you son .' You must be 
 a cosmopolite ! one of those who belong to any 
 nation, where they can do a good business! 
 Quite right I yoa are a cosmopolite, and wear 
 the cloak of cosmopolitism, lined with philan- 
 throphy ! That becomes you very well ! it's the 
 fashion, now I" 
 
 Mr. Closting heard this speech of the lunatic 
 with the same apparent indifiijrence which any 
 one ivith a clear conscience would have main- 
 tained in his place ; but he appeared to find such 
 a string of titles superfluous, and was just about 
 to withdraw, as Francisco, the negro of the mur- 
 dered man, came galloping in, with his com- 
 panion. 
 
 " Where is my man .>" cried three black wo- 
 men ! " Where is my man !" repeated Matura, 
 letting go tl-.e hand of the old man, who con- 
 tinued to stare at the guest, with a piercing look. 
 
 The danger of being seized, and perhaps 
 strangled by the lunatic, threatened the mur- 
 derer, who knew sufficiently the unbounded 
 physical strength of a man under such circum- 
 stances, though the old man appcai-ed to be so 
 weak that a boy might hold him back. 
 
 " He is murdered !" shrieked the lunatic ; be- 
 fore the two negroes had uttered the same ex- 
 clamation. " Do you see him there .' There lies 
 the pretty Sevandija," and his companion of the 
 dirt, that rooted about with him, has murdered 
 him I There he lies! And the other sevandija 
 crawls about, unconcerned ; but he has not stolen 
 any thing from him—only the bright spark has 
 gone from the breast of the murdered sevandija — 
 it has gone, disappeared." 
 
 " Sr. Sevandija ! Sr. Branco Sevandija !" 
 cried he to the slave trader, " come ! come ! sit 
 down by me ! 1 have state affairs to discuss with 
 you ! Do you wish to become charge d'affaires ? 
 I have a post for you !" He pursued this mono- 
 logue, while the lamenting shrieks of the women 
 broke forth, who had now received, from the ne- 
 groes, the news of the murder. But he seemed 
 not to hear it, and stared again at the spot in the 
 sand, where he thought he saw the murdered 
 muckworm. 
 
 " He is murdered !" cried the negroes, with- 
 out concerning themselves about the old man's 
 soliloquy. 
 
 " Murdered !" resounded from all mouths, 
 and Mr. Closting now stepped into the midts of 
 the four concubines. 
 
 ' MHckwoiTii
 
 132 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " HoTT so ? mnrdereri ?"' lie inquired of the ne- 
 gro, who leaped from the saddle aud gave his 
 torse to the charge of another. 
 
 " Tell what you know ! wliere ia Mr. Dnjotir?" 
 Francisco now reported, after his manner, in 
 broken Portuguese, where he had fonnd the 
 corpse. He wag interrupted by the weeping 
 nnd lamentations of the fonr women, which 
 knew no Ixjunds, and permitted no one to pay 
 the least attention to the circumstantial relation 
 of the uegi-o. 
 
 Mr. Closting now stepped up, as the friend of 
 the murdered man, and endeavored to impose 
 upon all present by his resolute behaviour. He 
 informed, himself, precisely, of all the circtim- 
 Btances, as far as the negroes were able to relate 
 them, and gave the women the assurance that 
 he would take upon himself the investigation for 
 the discovery of the murderer, and wonld go 
 back the next morning and bury the body. 
 
 But the women did not hear him, and went 
 on lamenting, without cessation. 
 
 " Shut up the old man in his room !" he whis- 
 pered in the ear of the negro, Francisco, contin- 
 ually apprehensive that he might spring upon 
 tim and strangle him. The Innatic, however, 
 remained standing upon the spot where he had 
 made the last outcry, and stared, as if petrified 
 cu the ground, at his murdered sevandija. 
 
 " "W'ho disturbs me while I am reading my 
 lettere .■■' cried he, as Francisco approached him, 
 with several negroes, to fulfil ths order of the 
 authoritative guest. 
 
 " We will attend you to your room, Senhor. 
 Vou must read your letters there, Senhor !" 
 
 " First bury this sevandija for me, and erect 
 him a monument, for he deserves as good a mon- 
 ument as any other ' honiea sujo.'* Now I will 
 read my letters ; bnt do not let any one disturb 
 me! Invite the gnest to sup with me —the branco! 
 He seems to me to be a gentleman ! a perfect 
 gentleman ! The man pleases me ! Take him 
 into the strangers' room, and give him a jacket 
 and fresh linen. "f 
 
 The unfortunate Mr. Daily went into his room 
 and again opened some letters, while he laid 
 himself down on an old cane bottomed sofa. 
 Francisco softly locked the door on the outside, 
 and went back to Mr. Closting, who employed 
 all his eloquence to console the sui-vivors of the 
 murdered man, and offered them his friendly 
 services. 
 
 The women surrounded the Sr. Branco with 
 the confidence of necessity, and were far from 
 entertaining the least donbt and STispicion of 
 him, since they had known him for years as the 
 btisiness friend of their fourfold man ; and 
 gradually dried their honest tears of grief, con- 
 soled by the circumstance that chance had 
 brought a Sr. Branco to them, who, they hoped 
 would, in many respects, take the place of the 
 murdered man. 
 
 Banko and Nols observed their employer since 
 the arrival of the two negroes, with the mute 
 understanding that existed between them, aud 
 exhausted their thoughts by many .■ftclen glinoes. 
 
 If Nolsh.ad not learned the fact of the murder, 
 through the credible youth, and had not for a 
 long time h.ad many reasons for believing his 
 
 « A dirty, vulgar fello'.v — a muckworm. 
 
 t A Bcaziliun cualuui oa tlic arrival of any stranger. 
 
 employer capable of such a deed, he -would haw 
 doubled its reality. 
 
 If the deportment of the betrayer cotild work 
 such an impression upon a man who had known 
 him as such for years, it might very well strike 
 the negroes dumb with amazement, who had en- 
 tertained the strongest suspicions, and now saw 
 them all weakened. 
 
 Francisco was unable to conceive of that de- 
 gree of European civilization, by which a man ig 
 enabled to master every internal emotion before 
 the world, and by means of a preparation for 
 practical life, to maintain his self-possession ia 
 every sitn.ation, and, as was the case with the 
 European in the present instance, to assvmie any 
 mask the occasion required. 
 
 The stupid negro, not possessing any know- 
 ledge of that sort, became more and more em- 
 barrassed, and conld hardly understand how it 
 was that he could have believed the Sr. Branco 
 capable of the murder. 
 
 Mr. Closting saw very well that his assnrsnce 
 had produced its intended effect, whereby he 
 gained a wider field in which to move withouj 
 restraint. 
 
 IVithont having imagined that the wholesale 
 murder in the venda of old Senhor Braga would 
 serve him to lead the suspicion, in respect to the 
 corpse of the grinipeiro, t:pon the " holy gentle- 
 men," he had, in anticipation, (a,? the reader 
 will recollect,) let fall some words, in conversa- 
 tion with the officer of the permanentos, signify- 
 ing that he exposed himself to the vengeance of 
 the faronpilhas, by promoting the apprehension 
 of Serafini. Although the grirapeiro, Dujour, 
 had not had the le.ast to do with the affair, and 
 llr. Closting had never spoken to him about 
 Seratini's political standing, he, ne\'ertheless, 
 represented him as the informer, that he might 
 afterwards be able to make the intended murder, 
 in case it were successfully accomplished, ap- 
 pear as a deed of i engeance on the part of the 
 hiroupilhas. 
 
 Accident had now doubly favored hira, (as it 
 has so many other rascals on earth, who are 
 elevated by " saccess in business,") and he now 
 availed himself, most Judiciously, of these cir- 
 cumstances, in conversation with his two white 
 attendants and the women of the murdered man, 
 to divert suspicion from himself. 
 
 " If he be not murdered, through mistake, by 
 the holy gentlemen'," he remarked, among 
 other things, " which will soon^ie aseertaineil, 
 then the faroupilhas have had a hand in it, for 
 suspicion rested upou him of having denounced 
 Senlior Serafini. It is not at al! improbable," 
 continued he, farther, " that some negro, or 
 white person with atiendai;ts,may have followed 
 us from Villa Tasso, to revenge the treachery 
 which Mr. Dujour, according to their view, had 
 bciu guilty of towards Senhor Serafini. We 
 know, unhappily, by experience, the blood- 
 tiiirsfy vengeance of the faroupilhas, ia such 
 cases of treacliery as they call su';h a transaction 
 though a man, in comniittiiig it, may act in it — 
 acconlance to his convictioni9 — for the public 
 service. In tho other ease, it is just as possible 
 that one of the ' holy gentlemen's' negroes has 
 mistaken him for the old dragoon. Tliere is as 
 much to be said ou the one side as on the other." 
 
 All this was more than sufiicient to screen tho 
 Jutowa bu,siucss friend of the uurdered man frvni
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 133 
 
 all suspicion in the eyes of the guileless colored 
 people, and even, if not to extinguish, at least to 
 weaken, the suspicion of the faithful Francisco, 
 80 that he did not dare (as miglit have been ex- 
 pected before) to come forward against the 
 " Senhor Branco," with all the decision of a 
 brave negro. 
 
 The two white attendants of the latter had 
 each their own thoughts, and often looked at 
 each other significantly, with all respect for the 
 practical dexterity of their employer. 
 
 All measures for the discovery of the mur- 
 derer, and the interring of the corpse, were set- 
 tled in the best manner. Mr. Closting decided 
 upon making a circuit the next morning, to 
 lodge an information of the affair in the above 
 mentioned town, and, if possible, to conduct an 
 examination from thence — at least, to give over 
 the whole affair into the hands of the judge, 
 where he knew, beforehand, that it would soon 
 be forgotten. 
 
 Banko had already learned the name of the 
 town that he had seen, and, so far as concerned 
 himself, had resolved to separate, the next day, 
 from his employer. It happened that a young 
 man of his acquaintance, from Europe, lived in 
 this town, as a physician^at least, according to 
 the information that he had obtained in Rio de 
 Janeiro, he hoped to meet him there ; and it was 
 now more than ever evident to him that Mr. 
 Closting had concealed from him in what co- 
 tnarca they were. 
 
 Mr. Nols was obliged to remain some time 
 longer in the service of the naturalist, for he had 
 Btill a demand upon him for a considerable sum 
 of arrears of salary, and Mr. Closting had 
 adopted the custom of the business men of our 
 time, to put off the payment of money as long as 
 possible. According to the above custom, he 
 generally paid his subordinate creditors the 
 interest of their claim with rudeness, for their 
 urgency implied a doubt of his ability to pay, 
 and, of course, was an insult to his respecta- 
 bility. 
 
 The unfortunate widowed mulheres de cama 
 wept through the comfortless night, each in the 
 conviction that her man loved her in his heart 
 above all others ; and in case he, in the moment 
 of his death, had found time to take leave, in 
 spirit, of any one, he certainly had thought of 
 her, and of her only. 
 
 Mr. Closting personally convinced himself, 
 before he went to rest, that the door of the room 
 in which old Mr. Daily raved, was well fast- 
 ened. 
 
 He then betook himself to the before men- 
 tioned stranger's room, which was a very mise- 
 rable one, to be sure, but kept with Brazilian 
 neatness. He carefully bolted his door and 
 window shutters, examined the locks and load- 
 ing of his pistols and his double-barrelled gun, 
 and laid himself down to rest. 
 
 Banko and Nols arranged their beds as com- 
 fortably as the circumstances permitted, in a 
 corner of the hospitable house, where the negro 
 Francisco had sjiread out some straw mats for 
 them. The thought of the proverb, that " walls 
 have ears," prevented them from speaking on the 
 paramount subject which chased away their 
 sleep. When all was quiet in the house, Fran- 
 cisco came again to the couch of the two whites 
 to wieh them good night, and whispered in their 
 
 ears, " Your Senhor Branco is innocent, or he is 
 as great a Velhacaz* as there is in Brazil !" 
 
 " Pst ! pst !" whispered Mr. Banko to him ; 
 " if Francisco is prudent, he will not say any 
 thing, or he runs the risk of being shot, like his 
 master, by the Senhor Branco, who is, probably, 
 a highly respectable velhacaz. Good night, 
 Senhor Francisco!" 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 At the extreme boundary of the southern 
 tropical zone, almost directly under the Tropic of 
 Capricorn — where the sun is at its zenith when 
 we, north of the equator, have the shortest days — 
 nature has hollowed out a bay, nearly seventeen 
 English miles in length, and varying from lour 
 to five in width, upon whose environs she seems 
 to have expended all that she is able to effect 
 upon our planet, in beauty and wealth, in gran- 
 deur and elevation, in variety and luxuriance, in 
 idyllian charms and romantic wildness. It is 
 the world-famed bay of Rio de Janeiro. 
 
 Like the whole coast of Brazil, from Pernam- 
 buco to Rio Grande — bordered by a colossal 
 chain of mountains, broken off at several places 
 and retiring more or less into the interior, which 
 penetrate the clouds in their sublime grandeur 
 — the entrance into the " bay of tropical splen- 
 dor and magniticence," is, also, surrounded by 
 high mountains. 
 
 Two conical masses of rock, hardly three 
 quarters of an English mile apart, stand opposite 
 to each other, and nearly perpendicular, appear- 
 ing like the hewn pillars of a gate, and afford, 
 even directly at their bases, safe navigation for 
 the largest ships to enter the bay. 
 
 As we enter from without, the so called 
 " sugar loaf" rises, on the left hand, a guide to 
 the mariner, who does not see the entrance until 
 he tinds himself in a straight line before it, and 
 who readily recognises the famous " sugar loaf," 
 from the circumstance that it, unlike every other 
 conical point along that coast, inclines to the 
 southwest. At the foot of the opposite rocks of 
 pure granite, and at an inconsiderable distance in 
 front, extends the fortress of Santa Cruz. Inside 
 of the *' sugar loaf," upon a low rocky island, 
 stands the bastion of St. Joao ; and between these 
 two points, a view unfolds itself that fills with 
 amazement the heai't even of the traveller, who 
 has admired the beauty and grandeur of nature in 
 Europe, from the Archipelago to the North Cape. 
 
 Towards the southwest, at the foot of a group 
 of mountains, fully three thousand feet high, 
 whose peculiar forms recall no landscape in 
 Europe, lies the city of Rio de Janeiro, with the 
 cultivated villages and suburbs of the bay, ex- 
 tending, in terrace-formed alternation, to a dis- 
 tance of some seven English miles. 
 
 From the naked heights of the cloudcapt 
 rocky summits, the ever fresh, green, and luxu- 
 riant vegetation descends in an endless variety 
 of colors, down to the little hills, upon whose 
 
 • Scoundrel — pronounced ve^acaz
 
 1S4 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 misty back-ground stands ttiB city, with ils 
 churches and unassuming palaces, with its mon- 
 asteries and chapels, with ils mass of dwellings, 
 and its terraces, with its gigantic aqueduct and 
 its fountains, overlooked by countless chacaras,* 
 gene. ally painted white, and kept neat and 
 clean, and reflected in the dark bluish green of 
 the sparkling waves, which play around the 
 keels of vessels, arriving here from all parts of 
 the world, decorated with the flags of every 
 civilized nation upon earth. 
 
 Opposite to these rocky tops, on the other side 
 of the bay, appeared the heaven-piercing pipes 
 of tlie " Organ Mountains," (Serra dos Orges,) 
 which receives its narae from its singular form. 
 It is about seven thousand feet high, and appears 
 like a deep blue stone wall, sharp distinguished 
 at almost all times of day, from the •therially 
 clear horizon. 
 
 The Organ Mountains descend, in the fore- 
 ground, by various gradations in hills, valleys, 
 and meadows, to the sandy shore of the bay, 
 where the little towns of Praya Grande and St. 
 Domingo are seen, with their idyllian chacaras. 
 Mountain upon mountain, near and remote, 
 and countless islets rising above the ever mur- 
 muring waves, partly inhabited, and partly ap- 
 pearing as if placed there by nature, as altar 
 steps in the mysterious temple of solitude, to 
 remind the feeling human heart to bring its 
 offering there in hours of devotion, in contem- 
 plation of the splendor and magnificence of di- 
 vine ceation. 
 
 The same moon which shone upon the hospi- 
 table dwelling of the murdered grimpeiro, in 
 the interior of the country, cast its bright rays, 
 through the clear tropical atmosphere, into the 
 half open window of a chacara, which stood 
 upon the ridge of a hill at the foot of the Corco- 
 vado.f 
 
 The long leaves of the bananas rustled in the 
 silence of the night above the fragrant tops of 
 the blooming orange tiees, and the waves of the 
 bay beat against the beach, with a splashing 
 noise, in the regular " pulse-throb of nature." 
 Their advance and falling back were distinctly 
 audible, far below, on the nearest shore, and far 
 away from the granite foundations of the fortress 
 of Santa Cruz, notwithstanding the distance of 
 some miles. 
 
 In strong contrast with the gloomy, almost 
 black masses of mountains, above which the 
 moon had just risen, and whose shadows still 
 enveloped the walls of the fortress of Santa Cruz, 
 glittered the mirrorlike surface of the bay, like 
 an outspread silver veil, inwrought with my- 
 riads of sparkling diamonds, wliose brilliancy 
 was only exceeded by the inexpressible splendor 
 of the cloudless firmanent. Although the south- 
 ern hemisphere presents fewer constellations of 
 prominent magnitude than the northern, it 
 adords, in their place, by the indescribable ethe- 
 real cleai'ness of its atmosphere, a view into the 
 awe-inspiring regions of immensity, which agi- 
 tates the soul, while, after long gazing, another 
 universe of co.untless stars is revealed, to which 
 there is no bound. 
 
 * Country houses, 
 f A vock ofS.OOO fuefhigh, at the foot of which, the 
 cliuri*.h NoBsa Scnhora da Gloria, the raonastury Stuitn 
 Tlicrcsa, and apart oltho citj-, are built. 
 
 At the half open window sat a female Cirm, 
 with her unadorned head supported upon a lisod 
 of childlike delicacy, over which a luxuriant 
 wealth of coal black hair rolled ** in regular 
 confusion." She appeared self-absorbed. Her 
 look was directed towards a bright sparkling 
 star, withont noticing it, for the long dark lashes 
 were moist with tears, and the eye of the ob- 
 server might penetrate into the inner world of a 
 son-ow burdened soul. 
 
 The gentle swelling form of a Venus de Medici 
 was enveloped in a simple, dazzling white robe, 
 fastened over the breast by an agrafe ; the folds 
 of which, like the artistically arranged drapery 
 of an antique statue, revealed the form the more 
 it veiled it. 
 
 In natural harmony with such a noble figure, 
 (which did not exceed tlie middling size of the 
 antique models,) the expressive countenance bor- 
 dered upon that admired Grecian form which 
 the trn])ical nature of Brazil renders so glorious 
 with luxuriant charms, while the hardly per- 
 ceptibly projecting arch of the nose bordered on 
 Roman beauty, and at the same time it often un- 
 deniably manifests a consciousness of womanly 
 dignity, commanding reverence, and pride,whicl» 
 would repel, with contempt, every indiscreet 
 approach. 
 
 The charmingly formed lips had already as- 
 sumed the impression so peculiar to the Brazil- 
 ian women, which is manifested in the depressed 
 corners of the mouth, and, in a greater or less 
 degree, betrays inward contradiction, discontent 
 with one's self and with tlie world, disregard of 
 outward appearances, ill humor ,and melancholy, 
 which, however, according to the assertion of 
 experienced psychologists, is founded on an 
 early satiety of the pleasures of life, without love. 
 Eittulating the brilliancy of the star on which 
 her gaze a])peared to he fixed, the eye of the 
 Brazilian lady was lighted by a peculiai' expres- 
 sion. 
 
 The dark ball of the cornea, appeared only 
 one large, deeply black pu[->il, without even a 
 shade of another color, surrounded by a bluish 
 white, and rich, notwithstanding, in the mag- 
 netic fluid, which is often almost entirely want- 
 ing in dark eyes. 
 
 The room, at the window of which this female 
 sat, in an unpi-emeditated attitude, upon a divan, 
 was simply furnished in the French style. An 
 open door near a forte piano, led into a sleeping 
 apartment, in which re|)osed a little girl of some 
 four years of age, that hardly any one would have 
 taken for the daughter oi' the Brazilian lady, 
 since she, herself, resembled a childish girl, and 
 the child's features bore not tlie slightest resem- 
 blance to her own. 
 
 Sunk in contemplations, which probably 
 would have found no effusion, if her most confi- 
 dential friend (in case she possessed one) had 
 been present, she gazed upward at the starry 
 night, unconscious of the lapse of time. 
 
 A colossal bat, of the size of an owl, flitted 
 about the window, and touched with its pronged 
 wings the broad curtains, which lightly moved 
 near her, uniler the breath of the wind. Re- 
 minded of her earthly existence, she suddenly 
 recollected herself, and awakened from her world 
 of thought. She hurried to the ojien door of tho 
 sleeping apartment, satisfied hei-self of the 
 peaceful slumber of the little one, and puUed i
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 125 
 
 bi-ll rope. An oH negress appeared, who had 
 once been lier nurse, and now waited upon her 
 as Ihe attendant of her child. 
 
 " Where is the book that the doctor sent me, 
 lately ?" she asked, with a feeble voice. " Bring 
 a light and look for it. I cannot sleep, and must 
 read something." 
 
 The old woman lit the wax candles, which 
 stood ready upon a table, in silver candlesticks, 
 under glass cylinders — sought for, and found the 
 book, and would have left the room. 
 
 " Are the pistols well loaded?" inquired the 
 lady ; " can 1 depend upon them .'" 
 
 " Certainly, Senhora, certainly ; I have loaded 
 so many pistols in my life, and know how, as 
 well as a man. They lie there on the night 
 table, by your bed." 
 
 " Then you may go to rest ; but if you notice 
 the least thing, if any one should be lurking 
 about here, if you hear footsteps at the gardeii 
 gate, come to me directly — without such disturb- 
 ance, you may sleep on, but be at hand imme- 
 diately, when I ring." 
 
 " Better, Senhora, to tie a string around my 
 arm, and pass it tlirough the key hole — if you 
 want to wake me quickly, pull it, and I shall 
 awake right away." 
 
 The lady agreed to this proposal ; the old 
 woman aranged the string as she had proposed, 
 and left the room. The title of the book, which 
 the lady now took in her hand, was : 
 
 PSYCHOLOGY OF LOVE.- 
 
 -1S34.' 
 
 She seated herself in an armchair, threw her 
 tamancas* from her naked, childlike little feet, 
 stretched them out upon a velvet footstool, 
 stroked her locks, which rolled down to the 
 floor, behind her ears, looked into the book, 
 and read : 
 
 WOMAN 
 
 A mighty, incalculable influence upon the 
 education, and consequently, upon the condition 
 of mankind, is effected by ttie female sex. 
 
 The female sex is able to decide the freedom 
 or slavery, the deliverance or subjugation, of a 
 rising generation. The cliild receives the first 
 impressions of life, the first foundation of edu- 
 cation, from its mother, and grows up (as well 
 the boy as tlie girl) under the mother's gui- 
 dance. Hardly ripened to youth, the man is 
 placed anew under female influence, by the 
 power of love. 
 
 The character of a slavish mother will never 
 develop freedom in tlie boy, and the power of 
 the "love" of a slavish being, threatens danger and 
 destruction to the moral Ireedom of the man, as 
 well as of the youth. 
 
 Woman is endowed, by nature, with the same 
 capacities and abilities for moral iudependence, 
 as man. 
 
 Woman has the same right to social indepen- 
 dence and moral freedom, as man. 
 
 tunes are disposed of, and settlements, jointures, 
 and life annuities, are created. 
 
 Woman has become a secondary object in the 
 sacrament of marriage, whereby two fortunes are 
 united to each other. 
 
 Woman is degraded to a propagating machine, 
 to bear male and female slaves in lawful mar- 
 riage, and sensuality has become the element of 
 female existence. 
 
 All social usuages indicate the moral condi- 
 tion of the nation in which they are current. 
 The conditions of nature in woman, are as sa- 
 cred and powerful as in man ; but woman is 
 deprived of the rights of nature ; woman cannot 
 seek a moral union with a man, under the yoke 
 of senseless, unreasonable social laws. 
 
 Falsification of the notions of virtue, inno- 
 cence, and honor, indicate man to be a brutal, 
 savage creature, whom no young woman can ap- 
 proach without the risk of losing "her virtue, 
 her innocence, and her honor." 
 
 Where such social laws prevail, morality mast 
 have sunk low, indeed. 
 
 Where confidence in virtue and honor is ex- 
 tinguished in the hearts of the people, there is 
 full room made for the predominance of vice. 
 
 A woman, driven todespair by circumstances, 
 dares not seek refuge nor protection from a 
 vvorlhy man, but only from those who develop 
 vice under the protection of the laws. 
 
 Virtue finds no asylum in the breast of a man, 
 unless he will hazard his " good name" and his 
 honor, as a citizen, by innocent intercourse with 
 the female sex. 
 
 To destroy virtue, to subvert innocence, to 
 lead women to suicide or wretchedness — all this 
 in nowise injures a man's good name or honor, 
 as a citizen, so long as he does not ofl^end against 
 " good manners." The woman, however,who has 
 been seduced, has lost her honor, becomes des- 
 pised or laughed at, and remains debarred from 
 " respectable society !" 
 
 Education has, until now, instead of confirm- 
 ing morality and virtue, promoted vice and cor- 
 ruption of manners 
 
 Where virtue and morality have become chi- 
 meras, neither rules of deportment, nor govern- 
 esses and teachers, will be able to awalceu them. 
 If a young woman must be guarded like a wild 
 turkey, to prevent her from coming into the 
 society of a young man, miserable, indeed, 
 must be the state of virtue in her heart. 
 
 Where the innocence of a young woman ia 
 endangered, as soon as she goes alone into the 
 garden or into the street with a young man, mo- 
 rality cannot be particulai-ly flourishing in the 
 hearts of youth. 
 
 The education of the female sex has, until 
 now, been directed to the training of an automa- 
 ton, to dance, speak some phrases, sew, read and 
 write, and fill the marriage bed. 
 
 Where such an automaton possesses a con- 
 
 But woman has been degraded, by disgraceful ^iderable fortune, she is a pattern to the female 
 
 prejudice, to slavery ,to legal bondage, under man. 
 
 Woman is degraded to a ware, which is bar- 
 gained away by parents or relations, and if no 
 one will take her " on commission," she sells 
 herself for a personal existence^fnr a living. 
 
 Marriage has become a contract by which for- 
 
 • Nent wooden slippers, witli colored leather over the 
 
 sex, and becomes a wife and mother, to the joy 
 of legitimacy. 
 
 An excellent mother lays the foundation of 
 her children's welfare by a careful training, 
 she teaches them to pray before they can speak, 
 keeps them from playing with other children 
 who are in a lower station, and directs them tc 
 bow to a stranger, if he be well dressed. 
 
 A good mother derives joy from the bringing
 
 136 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 I 
 
 dp of her children, when the daughters make 
 good mothers, and the sons are doing a good 
 business, or have obtained good situations under 
 government, «'ithout being put in the pillory, or 
 sent to the house of correction ; when they are 
 not slandered as being men of heads and hearts, 
 who trouble themselves about the cause of hu- 
 manity, and when they are not persecuted as 
 " rebels." 
 
 It is only a wonder that the human race has 
 not fallen lower, when we consider the morally 
 wretched condition of woman, and weigh the 
 influence of the female sex upon rising genera- 
 tions. 
 
 For the maintenance of public order and mo- 
 rality, a union of both sexes is necessary, which 
 has, until now, been called " marriage." 
 
 The union of the two sexes should take place 
 with harmony of character, under the guarantee 
 of physical existence. 
 
 The alliance should be based on love. 
 
 Where no sympathy of soul prevails, the union 
 will become what, for the most part, marriage 
 has been until now — a business alliance on spe- 
 culation, or a legally sensual mode of living 
 tediously together. 
 
 The connubial relation exercises the most 
 powerful influence upon the moral condition of 
 future generations. 
 
 So long as the female sex are not conscious of 
 their dignity, mankind will remain fettered, as 
 hitherto, in slavery. 
 
 Luxury and fasliion have become the world of 
 women, and the dutiful mother, who may form 
 an advantageous exception, gives to the state, at 
 the utmost, creatures who are not " obnoxious to 
 the police." 
 
 A woman who develops her moral powers, 
 who manifests understanding and feeling, and is 
 concerned for the lot of humanity, is considered 
 an " enthusiast," who ti-oubles herself about 
 things which do not concern her. 
 
 Youths and men, who have glowed in the 
 cause of the people before they were enchained 
 by slavish women, lose their honorable senti- 
 ments and their moral freedom in connubial 
 union, and shake off their convictions, that they 
 may propagate a race of slaves. 
 
 The charms of sensuality, and the force of 
 habit, lessen the power of resistance of oppressed 
 humanity in the contest against every enemy, 
 increasing the number of slaves, and the might 
 of the oppressor. 
 
 Woman's duties are different from those of 
 man ; but the duties of reasonable beings upon 
 earth, the duties of humanity, (of man towards 
 mankind,) should be fulfilled, by woman, as well 
 as by man. 
 
 Notwithstanding the slavery in which woman 
 is held, we recognise in her the most exalted 
 being in creation, who not unfrequently sur- 
 passes man in power of mind and strength of 
 Eoul, in fortitude under sufi'ering, and courage 
 and firmness in danger. 
 
 The development of the human race will 
 advance with giant strides, so soon as woman 
 assumes the position in human society which 
 is her due, according to the requirements of na- 
 ture, and reason. 
 
 The young lady had read to this place, with 
 increasing attention — and now looked again at 
 the title page of the book, as if seeking, by a 
 
 view of the author's name, an intimate acquaint- 
 ance with him, whose mind attracted her own 
 towards it. 
 
 " I should like to know if this man is, or has 
 been married,"' said she, half aloud, to herself; 
 " and I would like to know the woman who made 
 him happy — and she, also, must have been happy 
 in the love of a man who prizes our sex so 
 highly." She read further : " Marriage without 
 Love" and hesitated. 
 
 " A fearful chapter ! shall I read to night ?' 
 said she to herself " How came I to take it 
 into my head to read this book to-night ? Did 
 the doctor give it to me intentionally ? The 
 doctor? Can he know my thoughts .' my inner 
 mind? but what has that to do with this chap- 
 ter ?" 
 
 She seemed again to sink into reflection, and 
 then read : 
 
 MARRIAGE WrTHOUT LOVE. 
 
 There is a crime, which is committed thou- 
 sands of times under the sanction of the church 
 and the state, and whose consequences are often 
 brought before the tribunals of justice, without 
 the legislation of any country being, as yet, able 
 to remedy the evil, which is based upon the de- 
 ficient organization of human society. It is the 
 crime of marriage, without love. 
 
 Love is the union of two beings in unity of 
 soul, thought, attraction, upon a similar ,or equal, 
 grade of sentiment. 
 
 Marriage, as an absolutely necessary social in- 
 stitution, should be founded upon love, upon re- 
 lationship of the souls of two beings, brought 
 together by spiritual sympathy. In any other 
 case, (even if it be confirmed as a contract by 
 church and state,) it becomes a crime against 
 nature and humanity, and produces eft'ects, 
 which extend their destructive influence to the 
 second generation, and even further. 
 
 Woman serves as the ornament of creation — 
 an ennobled being by reason of her delicate ner- 
 vous organization, insomuch as we recognise 
 the nervous system as the organ of spiritual life. 
 Woman has so much the more righteous claim to 
 love, in proportion as she is susceptible of love, 
 and is so much the more capable of returning 
 
 love, in the higher sphere of sentiment. 
 
 " Fearfully true 1" sighed the lady, and read fur- 
 ther :" 
 
 — But if we consider the social position of wo- 
 man, in all so called civil countries, we behold 
 her a slave, deprived of her moral and personal 
 freedom, subordinate to man, so soon as she 
 forms a connexion against her convictions, and 
 without love, upon which her future fate her 
 whole earthly happiness depends. 
 
 " Terrible !" sighed the lady, and read further : 
 
 — As in the male sex, so do we observe in the 
 female, various aims in the improvement of the 
 heart and the understanding, various and endless 
 gradations of the soul's lilt! in spirituality, and 
 of the soul's death in materialism. 
 
 But woman is the more capable of developing 
 the life of the soul, the more sensitively and sus- 
 ceptibly the organ of the soul, tlie fluid of the 
 nerves, is unfolded in her. 
 
 The heart (as the symbol of the soul) is the 
 basis and the sanctuary of all ennoblement, and 
 when, in woman, the so called understanding is 
 developed at the expense of the heart, together 
 with suppression of the feelings, she stands ia
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 137 
 
 contradiction with the nature of female existence, 
 and its high destiny on earth. 
 
 Love is the element of the soul's life, and, as 
 such, the absolute condition of spiritual existence. 
 Woman longs after love, so soon as she arrives 
 at a consciousness of her dignity. In the reci- 
 procation of this longing, or in its denial, (when- 
 ever she forms a connexion without love,) lies 
 the difference between spiritual life and moral 
 death. 
 
 The book trembled in the lady's hand ; she 
 gazed before her, and then read further : 
 
 — The more the men of our civilized century, 
 sunk in materialism, choke the inward life 
 within them, and recognise no higher aim than 
 to satisfy the demands of a refined sensuality, by 
 the most luxurious possible gratification of their 
 physical wants, the more tragical becomes the 
 lot of woman. 
 
 She seeks, in man, a heart, a soul ; and finds, 
 at the utmost, the cold calculations of the under- 
 standing, material speculation, animal instinct, 
 without spirit. 
 
 Modesty, at the expense of the consciousness 
 of inward worth, as well in woman as in man, 
 is ratlier a weakness than a virtue. A woman 
 should feel whom she is capable of making 
 happy. She who does not value herself, re- 
 nounces, also, the respect of others. 
 
 A woman who renounces love, and, induced 
 by so called reasonable motives, resolves upon 
 an alliance in which the most sacred conditions 
 of the race, the relation of man to mankind, 
 comes into consideration, commits a crime 
 against nature. 
 
 A woman who, under pretence of a right to 
 independence, endeavors to dispose of herself in 
 exchange for the satisfaction of external wants, 
 and proclaims the result of her " reasonable mo- 
 tives" as love, deceives, beforehand, the com- 
 panion of her life, who, as a man, whoever he 
 may be, has a right to require love, if he is able 
 to return love. 
 
 In thousands of cases, a woman believes that 
 she loves, and, nevertheless, does not love, and 
 her deceit is, of course, not intentional ; but the 
 man who, for material ends, feigns love to gain 
 a woman, is guilty of the crime of soul murder. 
 
 If woman enters upon the holiest connexion 
 which human society has ever been able to insti- 
 tute, with a renunciation of love, that she may 
 be outwardly provided for, if she expects no love 
 irom the man to whom she gives herself, in the 
 most sacred and solemn sense of the word, she 
 appears no longer like a woman, but an unnatu- 
 ral being, in contradiction with herself and with 
 God. She becomes dangerous to human society, 
 and her whole life fashions itself into a succes- 
 sion of rugged contradictions. She will, sooner 
 or later, feel her self-deceit, and recognise the 
 crime which she has committed against herself — 
 against the divine nature in mankind. ■ 
 
 The lady shuddered, and was about to lay 
 aside the book — then took another look at the 
 name of the author, dried a tear from her long 
 lashes and sighed : " No ! he cannot and will not 
 injure a woman ! 1 forgive him these hard 
 words. Who knows what anguish has forced 
 them from him .'" She read on : 
 
 — If we regard marriage as a holy institution 
 of the Christian religion, (apart from the degra- 
 dation of its sacredness by the church, which 
 18 
 
 imparts its blessing, at a stipulated price, to 
 every pair who announce themselves ready to 
 pay,) the connexion appears to he a sacred sym- 
 bol of the union of two souls in the element of 
 love — insomuch as there is only one love exist- 
 ing upon earth, in whatever form it may be. 
 
 A woman who resolves upon the holiest of all 
 connexions, from "reasonable motives," and, with 
 so called self-control, suppresses her feelings, 
 calculating thus to secure her external subsist- 
 ence, profanes and desecrates the sacrament o. 
 marriage, which should establish a union of 
 souls on earth, that was ** made in heaven," in 
 the exalted region of spiritual life. 
 
 Such a woman is only distinguished from so 
 called /fmmes entretenues by her cunning and 
 foresight, for with less faith in man's heart, she 
 requires and abuses the formal bonds of the 
 church, that she may attain a better guarantee 
 for her future existence. 
 
 " Who is the man that wrote this .'" the lady 
 exclaimed, letting the book fall again ; " I would 
 choke him, strangle him, with my own hands, it 
 he were here ! No !" continued she, after a pause ; 
 " no ! I would press his hand, and look him in 
 the face ! Who will deny that he has told the 
 truth .'" She read further : 
 
 — The welfare of all mankind lies in mar- 
 riage. It is the spirit of love which breathes 
 through the universe, and love is the mystery 
 of all creation. The, man however, who, from 
 sensuality, meddles with the Creatoi- in his crea- 
 tion, wants the spirit of love, and a second 
 innocent generation sutlers the penalty of his 
 crime. 
 
 A generation that owes its existence to the 
 forced performance of so called " duty," stands on 
 low scale in the fellowship of humanity, and 
 bears the germ of slavery, the essence of selfish- 
 ness, in itself. 
 
 — Forced performance of so called duty .'"inter- 
 rupted she. " Forced ? The good man who 
 wrote that was never married. A woman does 
 not allow herself to be forced to any so called 
 ' performance of duty,' or she must be a goose, 
 and her husband a monster." She read on : 
 
 —There is a sin against the Holy Ghost, it is the 
 sin against the holy spirit of love, the contemning 
 of moral freedom in the slavish service of legally 
 privileged sensuality — opposed to the bugbear of 
 the forced fulfilment of duty 
 
 •' Why is he all the while prating about the 
 forced fulfilment of duty ?" said she, again in- 
 terrupting her reading. " Where love is ex- 
 tinct, there is no longer any duty in this re- 
 spect." She read further: 
 
 — on the other hand, stands the mourning 
 genius of love, fettered and despised by the 
 precepts of the Church and the State, which 
 are based upon slavery, and mankind grope 
 about, in chains and fetters, from generation tc 
 generation. 
 
 Wtat, then, is love ? Th' attraction of the soul 
 
 To kindred soul — the striving after union, 
 
 Union of souls witliin the spirit's realm, 
 
 Fit consequence of light and purity. 
 
 Love is the divine spiri 's spheral note, 
 
 In mj st'ry sounding for the hastening on 
 
 Of the soul's elevation ; source of liti;ht, 
 
 Piercing through matter's darkness clear and bright. 
 
 The soul's attraction to its kindred soul, 
 Its longing its existence to extend, 
 As a part, still striving upward to th" unknowli—
 
 138 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 The soorce of life, who«:e tones encircle him - 
 Proud of the spirit's union to its lilie ; 
 The nameless longing of th' excited soul, 
 To merge itself with others, and to soar 
 To being's heights upon the wings of thought ; 
 That is true LfJVE— the element of life, 
 Endless condition of the living soul. 
 From freedom's spirit imUvisible, 
 
 Only through freedom can the soul prolong 
 Existence ; and the more is granted her, 
 The moreexrHlted the victorious strife. 
 True love will, in its object, lose itself. 
 And sacrifice itself for whom it glows. 
 
 Love is so far estranged from selfishness, 
 It hopes, it sutfc-rs, an.l endureth all, 
 If matter rigidly opposes it. 
 Its essence is allied to that of sound, 
 Or light, which know no circumscribed botmd. 
 It is the holy spirit of sacrifice 
 On the heart's altar, to God consecrated — 
 Its being, endlessness, eternity. 
 
 " The man who wrote this, has felt what love 
 is," sighed she ; " whether he has ever found a 
 being yet who understood him — that is another 
 question." She read further : 
 
 — If we recognise love as an unity, it follows 
 that the sentiment which raises us in longing 
 and faith to the idea of the Deity, (as religious 
 love.) is one and the same with the conscious- 
 ness of liive which binds us on earth to one be- 
 ing, whose soul is united to ours on the same 
 scale of sentiment. 
 
 It is one and the same divine power, which, 
 striving after ennoblement, seeks its point of 
 spiritual support in higher spheres, and on 
 earth. The bond of souls, ih love on earth, bears 
 us upward to the idea of the Deity ; and religious 
 love (love of God) is again illustrated in us, in 
 the union with a kindred soul; it is the divine 
 blending of two being's natures in the idea, 
 God! 
 
 It is the " point of Archimedes," without the 
 corporeal world, upon which the two kindred 
 natures are in a condition " to heave out of joint" 
 the whole terresHsial universe, with its circum- 
 scribed relations. 
 
 As every man is capaple of religious love, 
 (apart from all cultivation of the understanding,) 
 80 is every human heart susceptible of that love 
 which is presupposed in the sacred institution of 
 marriage, provided the spiritual life within it 
 be not wasted and destroyed, and sunk into ma- 
 terialism. In the latter case, a man is capable of 
 neither the one love nor the other, and stands 
 in tlie scale of brutes, that follow their instincts, 
 and know no passion. 
 
 The unity o( the idea of love is proved in this, 
 that men who substitute sensuality for love, and 
 under the protection of the church and the state, 
 lead a woman into a connexion which licenses 
 sensuality are also incapable of religious love ; and 
 on the other hand, men, whose spiritual life has 
 become extinct, and who are thus incapable of re- 
 ligious love, are also strangers to that love, which 
 presupposes union of souls. Where there is no 
 spiritual life, no soul, there is also no religion, 
 no love. 
 
 The book dropped from her hand, while she 
 tremblingly shrunk together, and with an ex- 
 pression of despair, sank upon her knees, and 
 stretched her hands towards heaven. Suddenly 
 a bright ray of consolation appeared to pervade 
 her soul. She gazed, with a smile of spiritual 
 efTulgence, upon a crucifix, that bung opposite to 
 her, under a picture of Saint Theresa, and ; 
 gleam of spiritual peace overspread her counte 
 
 nance. What passed within her, who may 
 know .' Who could know but the All wise Being. 
 who watched over, and looked into the soul ot", 
 this unhappy child of earth. 
 
 A noise at the outside garden gate, as if some 
 one were turning the lock, startled her. She lis- 
 tened, and satisfied herself of the reality of the 
 disturbance, then quickly pulled on the string 
 before mentioned, hurried into the next room, 
 seized a pistol, and a'.vaited, trembling and shud- 
 dering, the entrance of the old attendant. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SHORT WORK. 
 
 The old negress did not keep her mistress long 
 waiting for her ; she found her in the above 
 mentioned situation, listening to the noise,which 
 was repeated from time to time. 
 
 " He seems to be trying a key," whispered 
 the old woman ; "butl have drawn both bolts 
 carefully — he cannot get in — and the wall is too 
 high." 
 
 " Take the other pistol, and follow me !" whis- 
 pered the lady ; " have it ready when I require 
 it." 
 
 The old woman obeyed the command, while 
 the young lady wrapped herself in a shawl, and 
 stepped out on the verandah. 
 
 The moon had risen considerably higher, and 
 lighted the garden with almost the clearness of 
 day. The flowers had closed their chalices, and 
 drooped their heads; diminutive lizards, of a 
 beautiful species, scarcely an inch and a half 
 long, glided around upon the white walls of the 
 chacara and garden, caressing each other in the 
 undisturbed happiness of their mysterious and 
 useful lives, (for their glance arrests the mosqui- 
 toes, which they instantly swallow.) 
 
 The lady stepped forward, silently and care- 
 fully, to avoid the least rustling, and approached 
 the threatened gate, upon which fruitless etlbrts 
 were still being made to open it. 
 
 At the distance of about five paces, she aimed, 
 with presence of mind, at a point above the 
 usual height of a man, fired, and the bullet 
 pierced through the gate. 
 
 " The second bullet shall be aimed lower, if 
 you do not take yourself off!" cried she, while 
 she took the other pistol in her hand, and stepped 
 up to the entrance. " Mark that ! you know 
 what you have to expect.'" 
 
 The departing steps of a man, evidently booted 
 and spurred, at that instant clattered on the 
 rocky ground, over which a footpath led to the 
 chacara, and soon ceased to be heard. The lady 
 remained for a moment leaning, nearly exhaust- 
 ed, against the gate, then seizing the arm of 
 the old negress, she tottered back to the room, 
 and threw herself on the divan. 
 
 " Sit down, Anna," said site, after a long 
 pause, during which, both listened attentively; 
 " sit down ; we are safe now, for to-night." 
 
 " it was certainly he, and no one else," said 
 the old woman, while she set about reloading 
 the pistols.
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 139 
 
 "'Tin very probable," replied the lady ; "who 
 else, would desire to intrude here ? But how he 
 has discovered our flight, and found us out ; that 
 is more inexplicable to me than his temerity, his 
 insolence !" 
 
 " Do you know how I can explain it, Senhora .' 
 how he discovered us !" 
 
 " How ?" 
 
 ** By your piano ; by the tune you are so fond 
 of playing — and music can be heard so far, far 
 away !" 
 
 " Indeed, Anna, you are right ; I will play 
 the melody no more ! What you suspect, is very 
 probable ; but he did not imiuire after me, when 
 he was here yesterday .'" 
 
 " When he knocked at the gate, I did 
 not go to open it, but sent Maria, whom he 
 would not so readily recognise ; and Maria said 
 it was he ; she also described his figure and 
 dress, and all agreed together. He asked her if 
 there was not a room to let here, and when she 
 told him no, he observed that tlie pavilion, over 
 there, was uninhabited ; he wished to hire it, 
 so Maria said." 
 
 " My God ! why did you not tell me .'" inter- 
 rupted the lady ; " you only told me that he had 
 made general inquiries affer lodgings !" 
 
 " I did not want to make you uneasy." 
 
 " But, Anna ! if he should really hire the pa- 
 vilion .' what then ? We must then move imme- 
 diately I" 
 
 " That is taken care of already," said the old 
 attendant smiling, " When Maria went into the 
 city to-day, I gave her an order to hurry to Senhor 
 Moreto, and tell him to get possession of the 
 pavilion next to us, and assume the right of 
 letting it himself ; that no one should come into 
 it without your consent Senhora ! and that I 
 would speak to him al)out it myself, to-morrow, 
 when Maria was here with you again. I told 
 Maria that she must say to Senhor Moreto not, 
 for any thing in the world, to tell any body who 
 you were, or what your name was." 
 
 " I thank you my good Anna, for your fore- 
 thought; that is like you. Indeed, if I oould 
 trust even one man on earth, I might desire that 
 the pavilion were inhabited by some man on 
 whom 1 could rely, who, however, must not 
 know my situation. Perhaps some stranger 
 may soon be casually informed of it, and I shall 
 then make new enquiries no one shall ea- 
 sily come to us, who is in the least suspicious." 
 
 " This pavilion will not stand empty long," 
 remarked Anna; " the situation is too charming, 
 and the prospect from here too well known, not 
 to be inquired after, when a dwelling is to let 
 here." 
 
 She had loaded the pistols again, and laid 
 them both on the night table in the inaer apart- 
 ment. 
 
 " Go to bed now !" said the lady ; " I feel my- 
 self strengthened — my mind is tranquil — tran- 
 quil as it can be — more tranquil than before. 
 I have prayed — and God has heard me !" 
 
 " God indeed hears the prayers of the whites 
 and the blacks," said Anna; *' but he does not 
 always grant them ! So many thousands pray 
 to him ! how can he hear and attend to so many 
 prayers at once ? and then, in so many lan- 
 guages ! Among us, here from Africa, we count 
 fortj' different Ethiopian languages ! forty, Sen- 
 hora, and many tribes do not understand each 
 
 other's language ! and all pray to God . even if 
 they have not been baptized ! All pray to the 
 Great Spirit, as we call him ! and the Great 
 Spirit must understand all these languages ! I 
 have thought, that, if he understood them, he 
 would have freed us, long ago, from slavery to the 
 white people !" 
 
 " Every man has his invisible genius, Anna ! 
 we all have our gardian angels, who hover round 
 us, and see into our hearts before the thoughts 
 pass our lips in words ! and God will deliver u* 
 —you blacks, and us whites — from all slavery, if 
 we show ourselves vvortliy of freedom, and bave 
 God before our eyes and in our hearts, and take 
 care that we consent to no sin." 
 
 " All the slaves in Brazil do not have such 
 good times and feel sn happy as we, with your 
 pai'ents and with you ; if only your husband, 
 our master, would not " 
 
 " How ? what .'" cried the lady, who now con- 
 tracted her strongly defined eyebrows, and sud- 
 denly burst into a passion. 
 
 " Do you presume to make remarks upon my 
 husband .' upon his treatment of negroes .' Is 
 there a white man in Brazil, who treats his ne- 
 groes better .' Is there any one who generally 
 maintains abetter character, a worthier man, ia 
 every respect, than my husband ?" 
 
 Poor old Anna trembled, and seemed, with a 
 low, hardly articulate voice, to repent having 
 caused such a convulsive excitement in her 
 mistress. 
 
 "Pardon me! pardon me! Senhora;" said 
 she, imploringly, and with repeated courtesies; 
 " I will not say any thing more — I will never say 
 any thing again about our master ! never more ! 
 no, never !" 
 
 I don't thank you for that I Go now ! get off 
 with you ! go to your rcjom ! march ! !" 
 
 The old attendant gazed after her command- 
 ress, like a faithful dog at his mistress, who has 
 given him a kick, because her husband's night- 
 cap had fallen into the wash basin, which the 
 poor animal had not touched. 
 
 Anna arranged the string, in case of the ne- 
 cessity of being again awakened, raised her right 
 hand towards her mistress, according to Ethio- 
 pian custom, wished her good night in a mourn- 
 ful tone, and departed. Instead of replying, the 
 lady tossed one of iier tamancas from her with 
 her foot, to vent her ill humor on some object. 
 
 " I wish the doctor had kept this miserable 
 book to himself!" grumbled she, throwing the 
 book after the tamanca, and then disajjpeared be- 
 hind the mosquito net in her sleeping apartment. 
 
 -«**V^#*^^.#.^^^^SA« — 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 HINANGO. 
 
 " There is a light before us, captain !" cried 
 Rolufls, the young sailor at the helm of the brig 
 Nordstjernan, and pointed directly north. 
 
 Capt. Fingreen was sitting with Hinango and 
 Robert Walker, upon a bench on the quarterdeck, 
 enjoying the fine breeze and mild atmosphere 
 They were engaged iu con^'crsation upon lli«
 
 140 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 movements amona; the Scandinavian races to- 
 wards the foundation of a national unity. 
 
 All three now sprang up, and Robert called 
 down through the open skylight — " the light of 
 the island of Raza, Senor Horatio 1 The light 
 upon Riza !" 
 
 " True," said the captain, when he had ob- 
 served it for some time, and counted the appear- 
 ance of the revolving light by the second-hand 
 of his watch. " We may be some twenty miles 
 distant from it." 
 
 " Perhaps still further, captain," replied Hi- 
 nango ; " ibr nothing is more deceptive than the 
 distance in a tropical atmosphere — though ob- 
 jects may appear near to us, through the purity 
 of the air." 
 
 " At any rate, thank God! we have the light 
 in view," remarked the other, and hurried to the 
 cabin to his chart, to reckon tlie course of the 
 vessel since he took the last latitude. Horatio 
 and Alvarez did not long delay to take a view of 
 the wished for light. 
 
 Dolores had heard the call of young Walker, 
 and made her appearance in a wide mantilla, 
 with a shawl wound round her head like a tur- 
 ban, for she was just on the point of retiring to 
 rest. It was after midnight, and the moon, 
 which lighted the walls of the chacara, at the 
 gate of which the pistol shot had fallen, threw 
 her dazzling light, from the same altitude, down 
 upon the deck of the Nordstjernan. 
 
 " There, then, is land !" sighed Dolores, from 
 an oppressed heart; " and to-morrow, perhaps, 
 we shall step upon it, and it will unfold to us a 
 ' new world' of personal relations." 
 
 " The coast, which we shall see early in the 
 morning, forms a title-page vignette to a new 
 division of our lives, which we shall begin 
 there," remarked Hinango. 
 
 " And how rich in contents may many chap- 
 ters be that our fate shall inscribe in the book of 
 our lives. The so much talked of happiness 
 that man cannot see the distance of a span into 
 the future, or, at least, cannot foresee, with cer- 
 tainty, the events which are likely to befall him," 
 asserted Hinango, " is all that makes eai'thly 
 life endurable, in the everyday routine of 
 which existence would become wearisome to 
 many intellectual men, if they might not hope 
 for some alteration of things." 
 
 " I am of your opinion, and find, in the limi 
 tation of human knowledge in respect to the 
 future, a sublime regulation of the AUwise 
 God," said Dolores. 
 
 '* As concerns our fate," said Hinango, " I 
 maintain that every man is master of his own 
 fate, every man spins the thread of his own 
 fate, as far as his lot and his circumstances 
 are developed from his actions. A youth, for 
 instance, who goes to sea, ought not to com- 
 plain of storm and shipwreck ; and a maiden who, 
 from her own free will, marries a man from so 
 called ' reasonable motives,' ought not, as a wife 
 to wonder, if, instead of love, she finds heart, 
 lessness." 
 
 " Rcet sa som hun gar !" (steady as she is 
 going !) cried Capt. Finngreen to the man at the 
 helm, as he stepped upon deck again ; and he 
 added : 
 
 " Ottar ! make a fire, and put on the teakettle 
 Heat some water for a bowl of punch — do you 
 Ucar ?" 
 
 " Put on the teakettle ! water for a bowl of 
 punch !" repeated the long Ottar, and hurried to 
 the caboose. 
 
 " The levity with which people so often de- 
 cide on the most important step of their lives," 
 continued Dolores, " tends very little to the 
 honor of their hearts ; and what they call the re- 
 sult of their reason, often stands in contradiction 
 to sound reason, and, for the most part, at least, 
 to their feelings." 
 
 " Many men very soon extinguish their feel- 
 ings, and, of course, generally act from cold 
 calculation," replied Hinango: "and those are 
 the ones who are first wrecked upon the future, 
 which cannot be calculated like the per centage 
 of a business," 
 
 " The women of our day exceed the men in 
 cold calculation," remarked Dolores ; " for they 
 sell themselves, and often for a very small price ; 
 and the very suppression and extinction of feel- 
 ing in female hearts, is a requisition of so called 
 civilization, by which mankind are, at length, 
 alienated from every exalted aim. The internal 
 sentiments, in the depths of which lie the whole 
 moral worth of mankind, especially in the female 
 sex, are considered, according to tlie precepts of 
 fashion, as an infirmity, and everybody endea- 
 vors to make it ridiculous, whenever It shows 
 itself Civilization, as the term is usually un- 
 derstood, requires simply machines — not men." 
 
 " This truth would long since have driven me to 
 despair," rejoined Hinango, " if I did not regard 
 men from a higher point of view, and consider 
 our epoch as a transition period. Mankind press 
 forward towards the design of their destiny, 
 which will ever remain contracted, and eternally 
 be confined withm the bounds of their planet- 
 ary mediocrity." 
 
 Dolores appeared to follow, with peculiar at- 
 tention, the course of her friend's ideas, and now 
 looked inquiringly at him, as if she desired an 
 explanation of the last assertion. Instead of an- 
 swering, the Scandinavian returned the look of 
 the South American lady. He then cast his eyes 
 upward, towards the stars, as if he would have 
 said, " Accompany me I" and continued : 
 
 " Think of the universe, consisting of solar 
 systems upon solar systems, as we express in 
 mortal language the assemblage of a collection 
 of worlds ; think of the sun, as the material cen- 
 tre of motion of the planetary orbits, and my- 
 riads of suns, as similar centres of similar orbits, 
 like planets with their satellites about a sun 
 within suns ; and again, myriads of these suns 
 surrounding other suns, and all revolving about 
 a spark of light — the idea of the Deity ! 
 
 '• Ask yourself where the space terminates, in 
 which moves the most distant star that our eyes 
 behold ? Ask yourself when time began, upon 
 whose wings our lives are borne, and when time 
 will end ? Think of an eternal continuation of 
 spiritual development, from satellite to satellite, 
 from planet to planet, from solar system to so- 
 lar system, of which our system contains a 
 greater number of larger planets than of smaller 
 ones — and there are still smaller planets of our 
 solar system than the human eye has hitherto 
 discovered. Then think of our poor little earth, 
 as a subordinate planet, in a solar system, which 
 contains a greater number of planets, larger. 
 Then measure, by this rule of the planetary pro- 
 portions, man, as an inhabitant of the eartb,"
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 141 
 
 " 7ou mount high, and fly swiftly !" said Do- 
 lores, after a pause ; " but I follow you, from 
 one elevation to another. I accompany you !" 
 
 " Accompany me then to a world of intuition, 
 in which I have been at home from childhood, 
 and whose spheres have drawn me upward, above 
 this earthly world, by the mighty bond of attrac- 
 tion. Think of our spiritual life as a unity ; 
 this shell of clay only as the instrument, the 
 organ of connexion with the corporeal world. 
 Think of our spiritual existence as a reality, and 
 this earthly life only as a dream, in whose fetters 
 thousands live along without awakening to a 
 consciousness of the spiritual reality — and ac 
 company me now to my home." 
 
 " To your home ?" inquired Dolores, with 
 surprise ! " How so .' What do you mean by 
 that?" 
 
 " Accompany me to Uranus !" 
 _ " To Uranus !" she repeated, with an expres- 
 «ion of amazement ; " Oh, yes ! I know — you are 
 a poet, and your imagination may certainly have 
 ventured on many an audacious flight !" 
 
 " Horatio, who was seated next to Hinango, 
 held fast to his arm, and gazed upward, at him. 
 
 " Call it a flight of imagination — I have no 
 name for the expansion of my spiritual life, which 
 I seek to make evident to you. I lay at one time 
 severely wounded^how I received the wound — 
 whether I inflicted it upon myself — that must 
 remain untold. 1 lay there, on the confines of 
 this earthly existence, and hoped to die. It ap- 
 peared to me as if I vanished from the earth , and 
 suddenly awoke to a consciousness of spiritual 
 reality. And my whole past existence was re- 
 vealed to me in a single spiritual survey. And 
 I knew that I was living here on earth for the 
 second time." 
 
 " For the second time '" inquired Dolores, 
 who listened to the revelation of her friend with 
 increased attention. 
 
 " Behold the moon, there !" continued Hi- 
 nango, turning to Horatio. " Did you ever long 
 to return back to the moon .'" 
 
 " Long to return back ?" inquired both, as 
 with one voice. 
 
 " Or, have you longed to be upon the moon ! 
 if I have too soon used the word back." 
 
 Both looked at each other, and remained 
 silent. 
 
 " I have never found a man," continued the 
 Scandinavian, " who would give me an affirma- 
 tive reply to this question; while I have often 
 found people who longed to reside upon tliis or 
 that star." 
 
 " I must acknowledge," replied Horatio, "that 
 the moon has for me something gloomy. I have, 
 indeed, never experienced a wish to inhabit it." 
 
 " You explain sensations that I have often 
 felt," began Dolores, looking earnestly at Hi- 
 ango, " that have long darkly slumbered within 
 me. I have indeed longed, a thousand times, to 
 be upon some one of those sparkling stars, but 
 never to live upon the moon — never." 
 
 " In that state of spiritual intuition," conti- 
 nued Hinango, " it seemed to me, that we had 
 all been upon the moon once, without being con- 
 scious of our existence there. Call my com- 
 munication of to-night, madness; my madness 
 has, at lea-st, (like Hamlet's,) ' method' in it, and 
 I ask of you to inform me of any con'radiction 
 in what J am going to state to you. 
 
 ' " The effect of the moon upon the physical na- 
 ture of man, is incontestible ; no observing phy- 
 sician, will deny it, let him be ever so much oi 
 a materialist. There exists an effectual telluric 
 bond — a bond of existence, which is manifested 
 in the nervous system, and especially in the fe- 
 male sex, whose nervous organization, is so 
 much more delicate and sensitive than ours. 
 
 " In a state pronounced dead by ray physicians 
 and friends, my spirit flew through all my past 
 existence, as thou.'iandfold recollections occur 
 to us in a single moment of joy, or of grief. I 
 was upon the moon, the single satellite of a 
 planet, which, forty-nine times greater than the 
 moon, observed from thence, glittered in the 
 zenith of the firmament, in wonderful majesty. 
 And my existence was a longing after a brighter 
 perfection, which this planet made perceptible 
 to me ; and my longing was borne upward to- 
 wards the earth, in the full splendor of its rays, 
 which there shone about me. And I was con- 
 ceived and born, as a man on earth, by a loving 
 being, to whom the operation of my longing, 
 and the telluric influence of the moon, upon 
 her inward life, remained a secret. I lived here a 
 short dream-life, and died. And I rose from step 
 to step of development, from planet to planet; 
 from Jupiter to Saturn, from Saturn to Uranus. 
 1 stood then in a brillaiit scale of being in our 
 solar system, ready for the transition to one more 
 perfect; for entrance into life upon an otlier 
 planet of our briglit solar system, which is, 
 comparatively larger and more perfect than Ura- 
 nus. 
 
 " What I saw and felt in those spheres, was re- 
 peated within me like the recollection of a 
 dream. There are dreams from which we 
 awake, and they suddenly vanish ; the last forms 
 or appearances float around us, as il to take leave, 
 the curtain falls, and we see them no more. 
 The spheres of the dream-world form a sepa- 
 rate spiritual region, into which no bridge leads 
 that man can tread of his own will, and the 
 arbitrary reminiscences of a dream are capable 
 of exciting a nervous disturbance. 
 
 " The whole universe then lay before me, be- 
 low me, like the garden of my horns on earth, 
 in which, I had played as a child and boy ; 
 a thousand remembrances awoke within me, and 
 genii, who had been allied to me upon one and 
 another planet, greeted me, and mourned over 
 my fearful fate. 
 
 " Upon earth, words are the organ of the 
 communication of thought, upon Ceres, per- 
 fume, like the aroma of the flowers, of which 
 language we have an intimation, here on earth, 
 in the strong perfume of flowers at the time 
 of their fructification. Upon Jupiter, this or- 
 gan is the array of colors, like the rainbow 
 and the morning dawn ; upon Saturn, tune — the 
 sound of harmony, what we here call music, 
 the acoustic ring of that planet, facilitating the 
 circular movement of sound, stands in connex- 
 ion with this expression. Upon Uranus how- 
 ever, where a higher degree of perfection exists, 
 the ray serves as the medium of expression, .si- 
 milar to the spiritual fluid of the eye here on 
 earth. 
 
 ' What we are here unable to express in words, 
 is there told by a ray, and the irradiating opera- 
 tion of magnetism here on earth, is an inti- 
 mation of tlie interchange of thought and feel-
 
 142 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ing by those who dwell upon Uranus. In the 
 earne manner as a clairvoyanl, or somnambulist, 
 perceives and becomes sensible of the thou;ihts 
 ind slightest emotions in the soul of a distant 
 person, is the spiritual intercourse of the be- 
 ings upon Uranus carried on, when space di- 
 vides them. The invisible operation of magnet- 
 ism in general, is only a feeble foreboding of the 
 medium of communion, and connexion in the 
 spiritual sphere of Uranus, the highest in our 
 solar system, towards which our longings aspire 
 on earth. 
 
 " With the transition to the smallest planet of 
 a briglitcr system, we first conceive the aspira- 
 tion after the highest degree of the existence of 
 the happy beings upon the largest planet of that 
 solar system — and so onward, from step to step, 
 from perfection to yet greater perfection. The 
 higher the planetary degree, the less is the soul 
 fettered by matter, tlie more easy becomes the 
 upward tendency towards the source of love, the 
 more powerful the expression of the ray." 
 
 " The ray ! similar to the spiritual tluid of the 
 eye-glance !" interrupted Dolores. " Your reve- 
 lation penetrates me with a holy seriousness." 
 She seemed to wish to say more, but interrupted 
 herself, and said ; " Pardon me this interrup- 
 tion ; I beg you will proceed." 
 
 The Scandinavian continued : " As upon our 
 planet, and upon all the others, progress through 
 struggle, eflbrt through motion, is the condition 
 of all being, so it is, also, upon Uranus ; and love 
 is, also, there, the element of life. 
 
 " Love and friendsliip, as one idea in various 
 forms, here on eai'th, is only a foietaste of that 
 which we shall feel in a higher degree of the 
 soul's life, in the spheral world. The less we 
 are fettered by matter, the easier does the soul 
 eoar upward to the source of love, of light, and 
 of strength, (if ever, a million times more ca- 
 pable of purity,) and so much more blissful is, 
 also, the sentiment of love. The nearer to the 
 light, the more powerful is the spiritual ray that 
 pervades and inflames us. But tliere, also, is 
 doubt, and there, also, is the foreboding of a 
 higher existence. And the consciousness of faith 
 upon Uranus, bears the same relation, in clear- 
 ness, to the darU forebodings of the inhabitants 
 of earth, that the orbit of eighteen hundred mil- 
 lions of miles bears to an orbit of ninety-three 
 millions. But there, also, is a striving and 
 struggling after the idea of freedom, as the con- 
 dition of all spiritual development.— —And the 
 clearer the foreboding of a higher existence in a 
 brighter solar system penetrated me, tlie more 
 boldly I struggled upward, despising the ordi- 
 nances of a corporeal world, which there, also, 
 fetter the spirit, and bind it the more oppres- 
 sivety, the more it is already enfranchised by tile 
 consciousness of its dignity in the higher scale 
 of being. I contended for the idea of freedom 
 as the means of ennoblement, and 1 loved ; and I 
 confounded the limits of love upon Uranus, with 
 the limits of freedom beyond the sphere of 
 Uranus ; and I fell out with myself, and with tlie 
 genius who loved me as I loved him. I misun- 
 derstood his godlike love, because I suspected 
 that he misunderstood me ; and, in a moment of 
 anguish and soul-rending emotion, at being mis- 
 apprehended by the being whom I loved the 
 m.)st, I committed suicide. 
 
 " I was hurled back to Saturn, burdened by 
 
 the curse of a hon-ible existence, tv)itc!i eould 
 
 only be delivered by love : A nature allied to 
 mine, with the sam.e aspirations towards the 
 divine source, with equal attraction towards 
 the primitive idea. Was to deliver me, by uni- 
 ting our two beings in love, and reconcile me 
 to the Deity through love, which, in my de- 
 spair, I dared to despise. I now sought the 
 genius of deliverance, the atonement of love, but 
 1 found it not. With the clear consciousnesl 
 that a higher World existed, I was a stranger 
 to the beings of Saturn ; for the most of them 
 were embai'rassed by doubt and unbelief, (like 
 mortals here upon earth ;) and when I taught 
 them of the existence of a higher sphere of life, 
 they ridiculed me, and called me an enthusia,^t, 
 in the sharply significant expressions of their 
 sound-language ; and I was neither understood 
 nor loved there. In the g!ov,f of my longing after 
 love, I drew near to a genius of Saturn ; but the 
 aspiration and faith were deficient in him, and 
 he comprehended me not — he understood me 
 not. Powerfully agitated by the reality of the 
 love in wliich mortals, there, strive upward to- 
 wards God, borne along and floating upon the 
 soarings of the melodiously harmonious world of 
 sound, of harmony, I felt my unhappy fate, to 
 live without love ! and the convulsiori of despair 
 again pervaded me, and a step, similar to tlie one 
 which caused my departure from Uranus, threw 
 me downward, back upon Jupiter. Still less 
 understood there than upon Saturn, I vainly 
 sought after the atonement of love, the union of 
 a kindred nature with my own, through spiritual 
 attraction. In vain! Mistaken and' misunder- 
 stood, with hurt and wounded feelings, I again 
 renounced the hope of love, bore my life without 
 love, to the abyss of despair, and thus rushed, 
 headlong, seeking love, and meeting injuries, 
 from despair to despair, from planet' to planet, 
 downward and backward, until I came again 
 upon earth ; and I must still go backward to 
 
 Venus, and then to Mercury," he rose, and 
 
 continued, slowly : " unless the Deity should 
 strengthen me with supernatural power to bear 
 such a loveless lite to the grave, and to linger 
 and to endure, until this earthly covering, that 
 burdens my soul, falls away — until I am again 
 called, by divine love, to the radiant region of my 
 home upon Uranus." 
 
 A long silence ensued. Dolores and Horatio 
 looked, with unaverted gaze, at tlie friend who 
 had honored them with a confidence that they 
 knew how to appreciate. Hinango stood there, 
 deadly pale, with his eyes directed upward to 
 the stars, and a bright tear glistened upon his 
 eyelashes. " Forgive me !" said he, at length ; 
 " forgive me, for having awakened your sympa- 
 thy by my revelation ; better, perhaps, that I had 
 not done so." 
 
 " On tlie contrary," replied Dohjres, " I thank 
 you, with all the warmth of my heart, for the 
 confidence you have bestowed upon us ; but my 
 sorrow is heightened by the thouglit, that our 
 earthly language is too weak to allbrd you con- 
 solation." 
 
 " It is too late !" sighed Hinango. " You are 
 a woman, and are, therefore, the less able to heal 
 wounds which " He shuddered, and re- 
 mained silent. 
 
 Dolores observed that the unhappy man had 
 touched that subject which Barigaldi had men
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 143 
 
 Honed, and which she had, unwittingly, agitated. 
 
 "I pray you, tell us something more about 
 the world of splieres," entreated Horatio, to lead 
 him away from his earthly griefs. 
 
 Hinango seated himself by them again, and 
 began : 
 
 " Do you not find that there is, at times, some- 
 thing particularly significant in the names of 
 men ? as il they had been given them from pro- 
 phetic inspiration ; as, for example, Pitt, who, 
 by his system, has dug a pit into which the 
 whole empire of Great Britain may fall headlong. 
 
 "Peel, Robert Peel, the 'peel' which covers the 
 decaying trunk of British aristocracy ; likewise, 
 to 'peel,' to shell ofT, to flay, insomuch as Peel's 
 system ' |)ulls the wool over the eyes of the 
 people,' &c. 
 
 " Buonaparte, the family (of 'buonaparte,' of a 
 good part, or good portion,) which portioned the 
 wliole of Europe among themselves. 
 
 " Columbus, the dove, which, like the dove 
 from Noali's ark, flew across the ocean, and con- 
 firmed the existence of the transatlantic world. 
 
 *• Lopez de Vega — vega, a broad, fruitful 
 plain, a rich, blooming field, which agrees with 
 tlie wide field of the rich dramatic productions 
 of tliis poet. 
 
 " Pfafli', a German polemic writer of the former 
 century, who zealously endeavored to maintain 
 that Protestantism was more accordant with 
 despotism than Catholicism. A true pfafT.* 
 
 *' Fourrier, the 'army commissary' for the bar- 
 rack system, by which he would supply all man- 
 kind with rations. 
 
 " Cuvier, (from cuver, to hatch,) who hatched 
 out a new system ; and was capable of hatching 
 out an entirely new set of animals from the bones 
 of past ages. 
 
 "Mirabeau, {inirer, to aim,) who, as an orator, 
 aimed beautifully, and often hit the centre. 
 
 " Volontiere, who, as a volunteer, as the 
 leader of a corps in Savoy, was the first prisoner 
 taken and executed in lS34t. 
 
 " Washington, who was 'washing' the soil of 
 tlie new world from the stain of British mo- 
 narchy. 
 
 " But enough ! it would be easy to sketch a 
 numerous nomenclature in all languages. 
 
 " As the names of so many men are strongly 
 significant, and each often express what the men 
 aiterwards become, so, also, the planets, through 
 asingular inspiration, havebeen named, through- 
 out, with the same characteristic significance. 
 For example, JMercury, the god of merchants 
 and thieves — Venus, the personification of sen- 
 suality. Both planets stand far below our earth 
 in respect to spiritual and moral development. 
 One of the lowest degree of the inhabitants of our 
 soliir sy.item is that of Mercury, since the dirty, 
 selfish interest of traflic, of gain, and of cheat- 
 ing, as the element of trade, jirevails there. The 
 inhabitants of JMercury have no thoughts for any 
 thing but material gain, and the higher idea of 
 love penetrates weakly and faintly through the 
 mire of materialism in which they wallow. 
 They rob each other systematically, sell each 
 
 * Priest. 
 f Some years later, Hinango might have, alGO, named 
 Bandicra, the two immortal brothers, of "La Giovine 
 Italia," who planted the banner (Bandiera) of their na- 
 tionality, and moistened it with their blood. They were 
 executed at Coscnza, on the 20th of July, 18-14. 
 
 other, and sell themselves, and call it ' practical 
 life" — while they despise the spiritual existence, 
 and endeavor to dispose of every spiritual being 
 among themselves, as a slave for their own 
 service. 
 
 " The despicable littleness of the selfish in- 
 habitants of Mercury, is seventeen times meaner 
 than that of the men of the earth ; the dirty sel- 
 fishness wliich prevails there, is seventeen times 
 more contemjitible than that of men. 
 
 " The inhabitants of Venus, less thievish and 
 usurious than those of Mercury, riot in extrava- 
 gant sensuality, and the ray of love but faintly 
 penetrates the night of their existence, and often 
 first aflects a being, when it has already re- 
 nounced love, and has become incapable of true 
 love. Many beings of Venus have already re- 
 nounced, in the intoxication of sensuality, the 
 love after which he longed, when penetrated by 
 a ray of the spirit of love, which glimmers even 
 there. 
 
 "The beings of Venus consider sensual enjoy- 
 ment as the destination of their existence, and 
 brute propa;atiou as a merit, on which they 
 pride themselves. 
 
 " Under the pretence of a fulfilment of the 
 duty of propagation, they deaden themselves in 
 sensuality, and hold themselves absolved from 
 every other duty, whose fulfilment does not re- 
 late to their doubled and multiplied self 
 
 "They increase like rabbits, and, like them, 
 willingly creep into the material of their planet, 
 for the zealous performance of the so-called 
 duty of their existence. 
 
 "Apart from the element of sensuality, the in- 
 habitants of Venus resemble those of the earth, 
 and appi'oach, in their nature, so near to that of 
 mankind, that there is no important difference. 
 
 "The transition of theJr entity into inhabitants 
 of the earth often checks the progress of enno- 
 blement, since their nature, here and there, 
 shows forth, and binds the human being in moral 
 slavery, through sensuality. 
 
 "We are acquainted with the inhabitants of our 
 earth. The name earth in Greek {grr/a, similar 
 to gcinOf to generate) is likewise suitable. jMan 
 named his world according to his human, dark 
 conceptions, while he regarded animal propa- 
 gation as the principal object of life, and consi- 
 dered the earth as conceiving and propagating. 
 
 "Less meanly material, and less dishonest than 
 the inhabitants of Mercury, and less sensual 
 than the hot-blooded beings of Venus; man, 
 nevertheless, bears within himself a trace of 
 both. Our spiritual life contains a germ of the 
 development which unfolds itself in higher re- 
 gions, and the ray of the eye-glance here signifies 
 an alliance with the mode of expression upon 
 Uranus. 
 
 " Man, in the bands of earthly imperfection, 
 wallows in the dust of the ground, clogged by the 
 matter in which his spiritual life is enclosed — 
 while he receives, at the same time, tlie spirit- 
 ual strength to subdue matter, by means of the 
 freedom of his will. 
 
 " Man was endowed with reason, as were also 
 the inhabitants of Mercury and Venus ; and it is 
 easier for him than for them, to develope his 
 spiritual life, if he will. 
 
 "But as the inhabitants of all planets and con- 
 stellations carry with them the peculiarities ot 
 those stars which they have last left, so, also, do
 
 IH 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 the peeulIaritiM of Venus and Mercury charac- 
 terize man. Sordid material interest and low 
 eensuality are the two elements in which the 
 tnan moves upon earth, who denies in himself 
 the presentiment of a higher degree of spivituiil 
 life. These two elements sustain so-called 'hu- 
 man society !' And the more a man denies them, 
 receiving within himself the ray of a higher ex- 
 istence, the more does he become a stranger to 
 human society — a stranger upon the earth — and 
 the more powerfully does the spiritual attrac- 
 tion draw him upward to the higher spheres. 
 
 "The seed pollen of the spirit floats across from 
 planet to planet, into the flower chalice of being, 
 borne by the breath of love ; for there are more 
 perfect planets than ours, but as characteristic- 
 Elly denoted by their names. 
 
 " The inhabitants of Mars are morally and spi- 
 ritually stronger than we, and strive upwards 
 with more manliness. 
 
 "Believe me, the love of a being of Vesta, is a 
 pure love ; it imparts a felicity which I saw 
 there, but did not enjoy. Higher than the in- 
 habitants of Juno, shine the beings of Pallas, 
 exhalted in wisdom and divine knowledge. 
 
 " Would that I could give you an idea of the 
 brilliant, radiant world of Jupiter, as it once sur- 
 rounded me, and as I now see it, at times, in the 
 dreams of remembrance of my spheral life — in 
 sleep — here, upon earth ! Even upon the tran- 
 sition stars, the four satellites of Jupiter, the 
 operation of the ray is above all human con- 
 ception. As our earth appears to the inhabit- 
 ants of the moon, forty-nine times larger than 
 the moon to us — you may thereby imagine the 
 aspect of Jupiter to those upon the first satellite, 
 which is not farther from it than the earth from 
 the moon, wliile Jupiter is sixty-eight thousand 
 times larger than the moon. The attraction of 
 the ray is revealed in the whole universe, as the 
 organ of spiritual life, as the organ of mysteri- 
 ous love. The higher the degree of spheral life 
 in our planetary system, so much the more pow- 
 erfully, purely, and deeply, does the attraction of 
 the ray penetrate the beings of the inhabitants of 
 those higher and larger planets, and the more 
 purely is the perception and intention of the Di- 
 vinity developed in them ; but they are, also, so 
 much the more powerfully penetrated by the 
 mysterions spheral light, in the anticipation of a 
 higher state, and in the longing of love. The 
 spirit there, illuminated by such a radiant splen- 
 dor, penetrated by such a powerful attraction, 
 strives on, scarcely burdened by incorporation 
 with clogging matter, upon the wings of its own 
 developed strength, from satellite to planet, from 
 planet to satelUte and planet. To tind again 
 kindred souls, as beings in a like degree recog- 
 nise them again in the radiant brilliancy of such 
 a firmament, embraces the bliss of such a spheral 
 e.'sistcnce, increased by the extent of the means 
 of expression of our sensations. As, for in- 
 stance, all |iroportions are a thousand times 
 greater and grander upon Saturn than upon the 
 earth, so, also, the communication of the soul, by 
 the organ of the eye-glance, is a thousand times 
 easier and more heartfelt, than by the language 
 of the tongue upon earth. 
 
 "As tluMuiiabitants of Jupiter, at times, behold 
 all four satellites at once, in their colossal gran- 
 deur, the radiant world of the seven satellites of 
 Uranus, indescribably different in size and ro- 
 
 tation, offers to the beings there a prcspeet 
 which, in sublimity, approaches the effect which 
 that radiant world exercises upon them spiritu- 
 ally. As the eye-glance is the organ of the 
 soul upon Uranus, upon Jupiter (as [ have al- 
 ready told you) it is the colors caused by the re- 
 fraction of rays. The ray, in itself, can there 
 express a thought by forms and images, as well 
 as it is able to imbody the thought as an image.* 
 
 "In accordance with the expression of the be- 
 ings upon Saturn, as the sphere of sound, (of 
 wliich we upon earth have obtained an idea 
 by music,) the communication and fastening of 
 thought takes place there (as by writing upon 
 the earth) by means of those acoustic figures, in 
 an easily moved bodily mass, which we can con- 
 ceive of here on earth by the acoustic figures 
 which may be made in sand, upon glass, by the 
 sound of a musical string. Such hieroglyphics 
 are fastened in the moment of creation, and can 
 serve for the future, like the written word upon 
 earth. As there the organ of expression is mu- 
 sic of itself, the tone of the communication can, 
 at the same time, produce and fasten a similar 
 hieroglyphic writing in the element of sound. 
 
 " As various as are the degrees of mental cul- 
 tivation in the inhabitants of the stars, are the 
 movements of their more or less material or 
 ethereal bodies. The subordinate, heavily ma- 
 terial creatures of Mercury, creep about in the 
 mire of their existence, in thieving and usury, 
 and their ' progress' is seventeen times slower 
 than the course of men upon earth. The sen- 
 sual beings of Venus partly swim, and land in 
 the moss-bedded caves of their luxurious ' so- 
 cial life' — in which, at times, they act without 
 much restraint. The ancients appear to have 
 had an obscure recollection of the world of Ve- 
 nus, as their mythology makes Venus Aphrodite 
 ascend out of the sea upon a mussel shell, as a 
 sym.bol of sensual love. Upon higher planets, 
 movement is by soaring and flying, of which 
 many a spiritual developed inhabitant of the 
 earth may conceive an idea — in dreams — in the 
 freed existence of the soul in tlie body — in which 
 it moves in its sphere of presentiment." 
 
 ** Then you consider the state of dreams as the 
 connecting medium with the spiritual world .'" 
 interrupted Dolores. 
 
 " Our dream-life, to be sure," replied Hinan- 
 go ; " but not all dreams, by any means." The 
 realm of the dream-life is twofold. There are 
 animaticf and animal dreams. The first compose 
 the real dream-life, the latter are the edbcts of 
 external or physical causes, as, for instance, di- 
 gestion during sleep, the contact of any part of 
 our body with another ; as the weight of a hand 
 that has fallen asleep, resting below the pit of 
 the heart, (plexus ca-liacus,) causes the night- 
 mare. The realm of the true dream-life is ani- 
 matically free, foreign, and removed from all 
 physical causes, as well as from the corporeal 
 world. Only the dreams in this s|)lu're are sig- 
 nificant, as the continued spiritual life, during 
 
 * This imliodiment of an image by rajs, lilte so many 
 things in Hinango's '■ insane" commuiiication, would, 
 somi! years ago, have been considcroil by us, inhabitants 
 of the earth, as the highest degree of madness, if Mr 
 Daguerre had not manilesled to us its possibility, even 
 upon earth, it can be luovcd, by manuscripts, that 
 Hinango maintained tlie above theory of the spheral 
 world many years before Mr. Daguerre's invention, 
 t From anima — souL
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 I 
 
 tlie rest of our body. Every man dreams more 
 or less livclily, in proportion to the develop- 
 ment of his animatic, his spiritnal life. Ani- 
 mals and plants dream, also, in proportionate 
 indistinctness. The dreams of a Newfoundland 
 dog can he easily observed, as he shows the mo- 
 tions of running and swimming in sleep, barks 
 in a strange tone, and whines, as if he were in 
 suffering. The unea-^y neighing of a noble Ara- 
 bian horse in his sleep, can al.so be considered 
 as an evidence in this respect. The dream-life 
 of plants can onlj' be suppossd. The mimosa 
 pndica (sensitive plant) manifests susceptibility 
 by movement, at outward touch, and e.xperience 
 in the department of magnetism shows us ani- 
 matic life, as magnetic power, in many trees 
 and shrubs. Men in whom animatic life is op- 
 pressed b}' a predominance of tl'.e animal nature, 
 likewise dream, without being conscious of their 
 dreams when they awake — and they maintain 
 that tliey seldom, or never dream. The higher 
 the degree of animatic life, so much tlie clearer 
 is the perception of dreams, and so much the 
 more extended is their province, which touches 
 upon the boundaries of somnanbulisra, and, at 
 times, affords a view, or a spiritual passage, 
 into this niystei'ious realm of the soul-world." 
 
 " Men iu whom the animatic power has been 
 cultivated to a peculiarly high degree, often ex- 
 perience a continuation of their dreams after the 
 interruption of waking, like the succeeding acts 
 of a drama. Such dreams are creations in the 
 proper animatic sphere. I, myself, for instance, 
 frequently pass through the regions of my astral 
 world, on such often interrupted visions." 
 
 " Permit me to ask one more question," again 
 interrupted Dolores. " If I have rightly under- 
 stood you, there are sexes upon the higher pla- 
 nets, as upon earth .' 
 
 " Certainly ! " affirmed the ' spirit from Ura- 
 nus.' " There are sexes wherever there are Ijo- 
 dies, but there are higher planetary systems than 
 ours, and with every degree of the endless pro- 
 gression towards perfection, the ethereal cover- 
 ing of beings is tranfigured to a wonderful p\irity 
 and be.uty, in proportion to tlie purity of the 
 soul and tlie degree of lieatitude. Love, as the 
 primitive jo-inciple of all being, is the spiritual 
 element of the whole spheral world ; and the 
 attraction of everlasting love, received and re- 
 turned by kindred souls, is the coiulitiou of all 
 striving after eternal perfection, in the ap- 
 proach to the my.steriou3, primtive source of 
 love. But the higher the sphere, the less do the 
 relations of sex come in consideration. 
 
 " There are male, as well as female p'auets, as 
 there are male and female plants — and t!ie spi- 
 ritual conception of the idea, of our planetary 
 system, resembles the mysterious impregnation 
 of plants upon the earth, by the wonderful, and 
 to us inconceivable, transportation of the seed- 
 poilen of a tlower, in the unfulded susceptible 
 cup of a kindred ' flower soul.' 
 
 " The awakened, suceptible mind of man, un- 
 der the influence of the ray of the idea, (as a ray 
 of light from the source of life, of love, and of 
 strength,) resembles that state of susceptibility 
 of a flower which is manifested by the fullness 
 and increase of the aromatic fragrancy at the pe- 
 riod of seed- conception, and affords us a present- 
 iment of tlie spiritual life upon the planet Ceres. 
 
 ■' i say there arc male and female plants iu 
 19 
 
 various senses of the word, as we upon earth con- 
 nect ideas with it. The same (to us) inexplica- 
 ble presentiments, which I have before spoken 
 of to you, (and by which ' Saint Just,' for in- 
 stance, was named when a child,) lead men upon 
 earth to the suitable nomenclature of the 
 planets, Venus, Gasja, Vesta, Juno, Palias, 
 Ceres, are female planets, the rest male. But 
 these terms do not relate as well to the bodily 
 organization of the inhabitants, as to the s.ystem 
 of spiritual conception, of the transportation of 
 the divine idea, from a male planet to a feraalo 
 one. Upon female planets, tlie female mind is 
 predominant, as the conceiving and generating 
 — as man. without knowing why, called the 
 earth 'Mother Earth, (the generating,) in its in- 
 fluence upon moral cultivation and enoblement ; 
 as is the case upon our earth : the woman governs. 
 
 "The soul, of itself, is of no sex, as little as 
 God, himself (the primitive idea of being) nei- 
 ther of the male nor fem.ale sex. Only the more 
 or less material or ethereal covering of existence, 
 of the soul, requires sex. Therefore, our future 
 existence, as a being of a higher spher.il world, 
 has not the least reference to sex, according to 
 earthly ideas. The meeting and recognition 
 liereafter, of .spiritual kindred beings, whose 
 attraction mutually bound tliem in holy sympa- 
 thy upon this, or upon another subordinate star, 
 is the everlasting, inexhastible source of the 
 lilissful happiness of a higher existence, of eter- 
 nal blessedness. 
 
 " As Jesus has already intimated, (who, in di- 
 vine clairvoyance, was acquainted with tlie 
 highest spheres,) ' there is, in the world to come, 
 no earthly social bond, but love alone.' Beings 
 of both sexes, who, from deception, mistake, or 
 error, were bound to each other upon earth by 
 social bonds, without sympathy, foreign to each 
 other, and inwardly distant from each other 
 as souls, do not hereafter find each other again. 
 Many an earthly being, which, in the abyss of 
 materialism here upon earth, suppressed or 
 choked in itself the spiritual life, at death 
 awakes in the subordinate degree of Mercury 
 or Venus, where the sovil is allowed, as before, 
 to receive in itself the light of divine love, 
 clogged by heavier matter, to strive after a 
 higher perfection, for another transition to a 
 nobler degree, upon a higher star. 
 
 " The being that perhaps upon earth was 
 united with it by earthly bonds, knowing itselt 
 here below, and already strove upwards to a 
 higher degree, is also, scperated from it there, 
 in the con.sciousncss of the divinity, which even 
 upon earth elevates us from dust, as love and 
 as faith. 
 
 " The struggle of the spirit with matter, 
 which envelopes it as its instrument, is the ever- 
 lasting condition of all effort — in every degree 
 — u])on every star. The higher the sphere, the 
 lighler and more ethereal is the body, the easier 
 tlie victory of spirit, the higher and more ex- 
 alted the happiness by the attraction of love, 
 by a common striving onward after perfection, 
 in the clearer and clearer contemplation and 
 perception of tlie eternal, mysterious, primitive 
 being — Oon." 
 
 " The captain begs to know if you will be so 
 good as to take a glass of punch with him — all 
 tliree of you — the lady, too J" interrupted the 
 long Ottar.
 
 146 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 This prosaic interruption broke up the com- 
 munication of the Scandinavian. 
 
 The captain approached them, lilcewise, with 
 Robert Walker, and the " spiritual drink " was 
 tried. Dolores could not avoid touching a glass, 
 when the captain cried out : 
 
 '' Good luck to the Mazzini 1" 
 
 " Long life to our iVIazzini!" cried Hinango 
 and the glasses clinked, after the Scandinavian 
 custom. 
 
 " The Mazzini, it is to be hoped, 13 long since 
 in Rio Grande !" remarked the captain. 
 
 " Probably at Rio Negro, on the coast of Pata- 
 gonia," replied Hinango. " We are now sixteen 
 days from the English bank, in the Plata river, 
 and it is ten days since the Mazzini left us, in 
 the latitude of Rio Grande. Barigaldi intended 
 to set his passengers from the cutter on shore 
 there, and then to make a digression towards 
 Rio Negro, where, perhaps, a land traveller 
 might be greatly served, by finding a passage to 
 Rio Grande." 
 
 "' Do you really hope that Celeste may have 
 escaped with Testa ?" inquired Dolores, in con- 
 nexion witli this intimation. 
 
 " I hope so, and it is probable. No one would 
 be likely to suspect that he has fled by land. 
 The flight on horseback, through the pampas, 
 to Rio Negro, has few difficulties, so soon as the 
 traveller is once out of Buenos Ayres ; and that 
 seems to have been the case, according to some 
 papers in the portfolio of Perezoso. 
 
 " God grant that we may soon receive intelli- 
 gence and letters from Celeste and Barigaldi \" 
 sighed Dolores. 
 
 " God grant," exclaimed Hinango, " that St. 
 Paulo and Minas Geraes may soon unite with the 
 insurrection of Rio Grande, and that the brave 
 Mineiros may put aside the Brazilian emppror, 
 and set up the cap of liberty upon the old Sugar 
 Loaf there, behind Raza Island." 
 
 " And that Scandinavia may proclaim her 
 unity — 
 
 ' A free, united fatherland, 
 From North Cape to the Eider Strand !' " 
 
 cried Captain Finngreen. 
 
 " A crisis will ensue in the history of all na- 
 tions and all countries," remarked Hinango, 
 " sooner or later ! Humanity strides onward. 
 Nothing, however, injures the cause of the na- 
 tions so much as the spirit of littleness, the pro- 
 vincial meanness of the duodecimo rulers, who 
 avail themselves of a corner of sovereignty to 
 play their role as heroes of a day, and, instead 
 of comprehending the idea of nationality, boast 
 of provmcial trash, preach provincial hatred, and 
 despise the spirit of humanity. And therein lies 
 the evil which circumscribes the progress of all 
 the nations. The so-called 'liberals' are liltle- 
 mindt rt — miserably so. They steadfastly contem- 
 
 plate the provincial map of their birthplar*, 
 without surveying the general map of their father- 
 land. Their spirit moves in a cubic space of 
 four feet, instead of soaring upwards to the con- 
 templation of their epoch. They imagine that 
 they promote the cause of the people for the mo- 
 ment, and dismember their country. Thev cling 
 to the letter of the past, without effort for the 
 future. They beg for the " favor of liberty, lib- 
 erty of the press," like efieminate cowards, and 
 forget that no people has ever yet become free 
 without a bloody struggle. For a long time the 
 crowned heads of Europe have not been the bit- 
 terest enemies of the cause of the people ; the 
 bitterest enemies are the miserable Constitu- 
 tional lick-spittles, whose hearts are as narrow 
 as the bounds of the countries whose provincial 
 sovereignty they maintain. Pity that there is no 
 devil, to carry away this inefficient rabble." 
 
 Dolores could not avoid* laughing, and re- 
 marked, that it was already half-past one. She 
 stepped aside with Hinango, and thanked him, 
 once more, in the most impressive manner, for 
 the disclosure of his inward life, and added: 
 " You have bestowed your confidence upon me, 
 and I know how to honor it. You shrink from 
 me, because I am a woman. I feel that 1 am 
 one, and I know my sex. 1 know what a wo- 
 man can be to a man, as his genius or his de- 
 mon ; as an angel or a fury ; but do not, there- 
 fore, despair of the female sex !" 
 
 " Despair !" interrupted Ormur ; " on the con- 
 trary, I build my faith in the deliverance of 
 mankind wholly upon the influence of woman 
 upon man, as boy, as youth, and as man. 
 
 " The redemption of all mankind rests in the 
 heart of woman, as maid, as wife, and as mother. 
 May woman remember this, and feel her dignity 
 and her destination, which is by no means at- 
 tained when she approaches the altar. 
 
 " As I sacrifice my individuality, my life, as an 
 ofl'ering to the cause of mankind, 1 also separate 
 my individual sufferings from the great sorrow 
 which I sustain on account of the martyrdom of 
 the nations. For verily I say to you, that few 
 men would have less cause to plead for the dig- 
 nity of woman, to be the advocates of thefemalo 
 sex, than I." 
 
 The paleness of his countenance, and the qtJi- 
 vering of his lips, evinced his violent agitation, 
 which a retrospect of his past life appeared to 
 awake once more within him. 
 
 Dolores pressed the hand of her friend, and 
 withdrew in silence. She retired to her cabin, 
 to rest for some hours, that she might be able to 
 enjoy, with strengthened susceptibility, the en- 
 trance into the " bay of tropical splendor and 
 magnificence." 
 
 /
 
 ]) LORES. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HABAiCKTJK DAJLT, 
 
 Harclt had Dolores left the deck, when a 
 tailor of the watch broiip;ht the intelligence that 
 he believed a little craft \va3 "malting for the 
 t-ris," from the land. 
 
 " That is a negro smuggler," remarked the 
 captain, now likewise perceiving the object. 
 " rte taKes us lor a slave ship, and is willing to 
 <io us a service." 
 
 '* And so he can V interrupted Robert Walker ; 
 '" he can smuggle our Mr. Daily on shore, and 
 tnen Sr. Alvarez can take his passport, and 
 land with \ia at Rio, unmolested." 
 
 Hinango seemed surprised at this forethought 
 cf their young friend, who, during the voyage, 
 had taken every opp-jrtunity of being obliging to 
 Alvarez. 
 
 "Are you serious, Mr. Walker?" inquired 
 Ormur; "will you really do us this great service .' 
 I say us, because i take a great interest in the 
 fugitive from the river La Plata." 
 
 " The captain knew my intention long ago," 
 replied the youth, " and Mr. Daily is already 
 made acquainted with the affair. It is, to be 
 sure, forbidden, as yon know, under a heavy 
 penalty, to communicate with any of these Tea- 
 sels on the coast ; but if vTe meet them, as ap- 
 pears likely to be the case at present, I will 
 take upon myself the consequences." 
 
 " That is very noble of you ! it dooa you honor!" 
 rejoined Hinango. 
 
 " I hope it is not the last thing that I shall do 
 for the cause of the persecuted ; 1 have not 
 grown up with Sra. Dolores in vain," said 
 Robert. 
 
 " It is a smack or ' sumacca,' as these vessels 
 Bre called here," remarked the captain, who 
 was observing the sail ; " she bears directly for 
 us ; she wants to come up with us." 
 
 " At any rate, I will have Mr. Daily walced, 
 that he may hold himself in readiness, if we can 
 succeed in despatching him with this sloop," 
 observed Mr. Walker, and gave orders to the 
 long Otfar, to call his clerk in all haste. 
 
 Ottar had a certain readine.ss at waking others, 
 since (excepting at night) he found an opportu- 
 nity to exercise himself every four hours, in 
 " calling the watch." To awake himself, was 
 somewhat more difficult for him. He went 
 atout his task of arousing the grandson of the 
 
 " European minister of finances" from his ileep, 
 making use of the usual cry, with which ha 
 brought a deck watch upon their legs. This in- 
 stantly roused somebody between decks ; but 
 instead of the clerk. Dr. Mcrbold stretched forth 
 his nearly bald head, and cried, in a peevish 
 tone, " Now ! what's the matter I" 
 
 " Mr. Daily! Mr. Daily must come up here!" 
 cried Ottar. 
 
 " Am I asleep yet, and dreaming that T on\ 
 Dr. MerboM ? " muttered the entomologist. 
 " Am 1 Mr. Daily .' then wake me up properly, 
 you stupid boy ! that I may be brouglit out of 
 my dream, for I dream as vividly, that I am Dr. 
 Merbold, as if 1 were he in reality !" 
 
 Mr. Daily had heard the disturbance, and at 
 last his own name, and crept up, in all haste, in 
 the moonshine, to the German aavant. 
 
 " Now ?" the latter asked him, " are you Mr 
 Daily, or am I .' If you do not know it, upon my 
 soul I don't, for I cannot get rid of my dream ! 
 the negligent boy, there, has only hzdf waked 
 me !" 
 
 " What's the matter .' what's the matter .'" in- 
 quired the other, rubbing his eyes ; " what must 
 1 do >" 
 
 " Mr. Walker wishes to speak to you ; you 
 must come on deck ; I believe you are to go on 
 shore !" 
 
 " Directly ! directly !" replied he, and retired 
 to put on, at least, a jacket. 
 
 " On shore ! on shore I but do you know, for 
 certain, that you are Mr. Daily and not Dr. Mer- 
 bold .'" said the beetleman. " 1 am not sure that 
 there is not a misunderstanding ; for 1 am still 
 dreaming, vividly, that 1 am Dr. Merbold ; and if 
 1 wake up, by and by, and Dr. Merbold has 
 gone on shore, 1 do not, for my soul, know what 
 will become of me !" 
 
 Habakkuk Daily ."crambled hastily pa.st the 
 meditating savant, who did not, in fact, seem te 
 be thoroughly awake, and who hurried quick!y 
 back to hi.s mnftres-s again, where he continued 
 the droam that lie was Dr. Merbold, until ha 
 finally foil asleep again, and perhaps dreamed 
 nimself into the individuality of Habakkuk 
 Daily. 
 
 " Mr. Daily!" said Robert, meeting his clerk, 
 '■ there is a sumacca, a sort of smuggling craft, 
 and we will see if you can go on shore in her." 
 
 •'All riglit, Mr." Walker r' replied the other, 
 " it will cast something however !'' 
 
 " That is my aSair. If you will only play
 
 148 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 your part well, in case any officer should ex- 
 amine you." 
 
 " I ? play roy part well ? As to that, you may 
 rest entirely unconcerned ! I'll bet that I will 
 play my part so well that you ?hall, yourself, 
 tike me for something else than 1 am." 
 
 " So much the better ! The simiacca will be 
 here directly .' Get yom- baggage ready. Will 
 jrou take all your things with you .'" 
 
 " Certainly ! certainly ! 1 shall take my 
 trunks with me ! for the sak-e of respectability. 
 A traveller with considerable baggage is always 
 examined less than a fellow without any, or 
 with two shirts in a bundle. But I require 
 Boniething for my rffle^sametbingseara^nlike: a 
 sextant, a couple of old nautical almanacs, and 
 gnch like." 
 
 " We will consult about that,?' replied Robert ; 
 " only make yourself ready ; let your trunks be 
 brought on deck." 
 " In a mon\ent I" cried the other, and disap- 
 peared below, where he now kindled a light, 
 and, as we say in English, " laughed in- his 
 sleeve." 
 
 Robert hurried back to tbecapitaiDandHinan- 
 go, and informed them what Mr. Daily required. 
 Both were ready to firrniih the aiiroit «ctor with 
 whatever he desired for the role he wa.'* to play 
 as seaman, and Robert intimated that Mr. Daily 
 would punctually restore, at Rio, all that was 
 confided to him. 
 
 " We (Jo not doubt that, in theleast," observed 
 Captain Finngreen, and, at the same instant, the 
 cry of *' Brig ahoy !" was heard from the su- 
 macca, followed by the question, in good Eng- 
 lish, " Where are you from ?" 
 
 " From Buenos Ayres '." returned the captain, 
 through the speaking trumpet. 
 
 " Have you not aiet a brig, bound for St. Catha- 
 rine's .'" 
 
 " No !" 
 
 " Do you want some fresh fish .'" 
 
 " If you will not let the Guarda lEOi* know 
 that we met you here." 
 
 " Noneense ! we have as little desire to have 
 any dealings with the Alfandegaf as you." 
 
 " Throw Ihem a rope '." ordered the captain ; 
 and it wjb not long before the spokesman of the 
 sumacca, with two of liis comrades, stood on th<! 
 gangway, and a considerable quantity of very fine 
 fish lay near them. 
 
 " Arrah, now, and is that you, Dick .'" erred 
 Pat Geiitleboy, who took his turn, as a sailor, in 
 the watch, and was now looking attentively at 
 the man who spoke as good English as himself. 
 
 " What, the devil ! Pat Gentleboy ! is it pos- 
 gible ? Vou don't say that's you ! All alive, and 
 the same as ever ?" 
 
 " But how did you come in this smack, honey ? 
 Have you got to ke a smuggler of slaves .' sorrow 
 lake you ! Didn't we two cruise together agin tlie 
 slave ships, on the coast of Africa, long enough !" 
 
 " Hush ! Pat! every one must make his trade 
 with the article that is most wanted in the mar- 
 ket. You go ■,\s a sailor, I see, in this brig ; or 
 are you working your passage :" 
 
 " I go boatswain, here !" replied the other — 
 clever enough not to let his old acquaintance 
 know that he vv;is ' commander of a c\ttter,' and 
 had come into collision with " Ar-gentiles." 
 
 ^ Commandant of the Itarbor, 
 
 , Custom boMse 
 
 Mr. Habakkuk Daily made his appearancd, frs 
 a blue seaman's jacket, with yellow anchor bnt' 
 tons, a short sword at his side, and a pilot coat 
 over it, an oilcloth cap on his head, and an 
 extraordinary serious quarterdeck countenance,- 
 and stepped up to the people of the sumacca. 
 
 ** I want to be set on shore this side of the 
 Sv>gar Loaf. How much do you' ask ?" 
 
 " There stands the caj^tain," replied Dick — a 
 former sailor in the British navy, and an ol(i 
 shipmate of Pat Gentleboy. 
 
 " I am an English officer, said Mr. Daily," in 
 Spanish^ to the captain of the sumacca. " 1 
 wish to land this side the Sugar Loaf, as I am 
 ordered to our ambassador at Bota Fogo. Will you 
 take me on board .' This brig is going to Bahia." 
 
 The Portuguese understood Spanish quite 
 well, and particularly the words British officer/ 
 Bot;i Fogo, and anvbassador. He regarded the 
 Englishman from head to foot, and replied, 
 "■ That may be done." 
 
 To the question, bow mraih he asked .' he re- 
 plied, with seamanlike drj'ness, " A hundred 
 millreis, if you wish to be landed immediately, 
 and fifty, if you wait until 1 choose to go on 
 shore." 
 
 " How long may that be ? When are you going 
 to land ?" 
 
 "To-morrow, toward* midnight, I shall ga 
 into a cove this side the Sugar Loaf." 
 
 "Well, 1 will give you thirty millreis, and wait 
 cntil towards midnight to-mon'ow." 
 
 " You will give forty millreis, senhor— forty ? 
 ! cannot take yoii for less than that." 
 
 " Then 1 shall easily find another sunrracca or 
 felouque, before we reach the Sugar Loaf, I will 
 give no more than the thirty millreis, except, 
 perhaps, a half dozen bottles of Swedish bi'andy 
 besides," added Mr. Daily, and .stepped on the 
 quarterdeck, as if he connnandod there. 
 
 The negro smuggler rellected lor a while, and 
 seemed to peiceive the possibility that the 
 " English officer" might find a similar opportu- 
 nity. Thirty millreis was, on the other hand, a 
 very reasonable passage, which be could receive 
 without going out of his cour.se. He resolved, 
 then, to take the money, and drew near the quar- 
 terdeck to settle the atlair. 
 
 Mr. Daily had stopped aade with Robert 
 Walker, received the needful supply of money, 
 and the address of the house in Kio where he 
 might report himself, as soon as he bad safely 
 arrived. 
 
 " The two boxes of minerals," remarked the 
 clerk, " are in my berth. It is a pity we had not 
 kept the others on board ; I could easily take 
 them on shore with me now." 
 
 •• This would certainly have been an excellent 
 opportunity ! But — the captain would not risk it ; 
 and perhaps the boxes are already on board of 
 another vessel." 
 
 " Let us hope that they have been taken good 
 care of!" whispered Mr. Daily, and stepped 
 again, in his character of an English officer, to 
 the smuggler, who imparted to him hisdecision. 
 The captain bought the fi?h at a very reasonable 
 price ; and Mr. Daily's luggage, together with 
 sufficient provisions for the twenty four hours, 
 was lowered into the sumacca. 
 
 Mr. Daily desired the mate to pre-ient his com- 
 pliments to the German doctor, who had, .some 
 time before, noted for him the address of the ceKv
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 149 
 
 brated natnralist, and of a little tarern, where 
 he might himself be met with. After a hasty 
 farewell to his " young master," and all those 
 who stood near, he stepped down to his two 
 trunks in the smuggling smack, which immedi- 
 ately pushed off, and pursued her course, to ob- 
 tain intelligence of the slaver, expected at St, 
 Catharine's, fi-om Angola. 
 
 VMSAf^sr.^^ 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE OLD WIDOWER. 
 
 The immense French hotel, Faronx, situated' 
 <lose by a landing place of the bay, opposite to 
 ■the station of the foreign vessels of war, in the 
 neighborhood of the unpretending imperial pa- 
 Jace, formed a sort of Palais Royal, as the gatlier- 
 ing place of respectable and fashionable guests, 
 in Rio de Janeiro, from all parts of the world. 
 
 It was about five o'clock in the afternoon ; the 
 separate tabks, designed for private dinners, of 
 four tu six persons, were, one after the other, 
 nearly all occupied. Men and youthe, in the 
 naval uniforms of legitimate, quasi legitimate, 
 and republican powers, divided, for the most 
 part, according to nationality and rank, were 
 conspicuous amongst dandies and no dandies, in 
 white linen spencers and considerably darker 
 complex! ins. 
 
 Men of different ages and stations, from the 
 commodore of a ship of the line, and his excel-' 
 lency, a colored minister of state, down to the, 
 wliite partner of an inferior commercial house, 
 were mingjed together, according to the repub- 
 lican spirit of Brazdian customs, which is less 
 clogged with narrow prejudices than those of 
 many republics. 
 
 ■'HespectabJe, and very respectable gentjemen," 
 with yellow patent gloves, maintained their 
 British fashions in spite of the climate, con- 
 suming, "in the sweat of their brows," their roast 
 beef and beef steak, in thick clotli clothing of 
 British manufacture, and, occasionally, (as an 
 interesting topic of conversation) giving each 
 other the assurance that it was " very warm — 
 very warm indeed !" 
 
 Gayer and more lively than at the British 
 tables, were lieard conversations in French 
 Spanisli, Italian, and Portuguese, and, here and 
 there, in the German, Danish, and Swedish lan- 
 guages ; while each group desi)atched its own 
 dishes, and troubled itself but little about what 
 the others ate or said. 
 
 Entirtdy contrary to ail British fashion or cus- 
 tom, a "degenerate gentleman," in a white linen 
 hunting frock, sat among*'foreigners" at a foreign 
 talde, spoke French, and dranlc claret instead of 
 port and sherry. He was one of those stereotj'pe 
 iiritish figures, whom we meet as cabin passen- 
 gers, in every Englisli steamer, on ditlt3rent 
 courses, from JVIonte Video to Gottenburg, 
 
 Uur gentleman was tall, robust, and broad 
 shouldered, with a round, fresh colored visage 
 and sliort neck. His crown was nearly bald and 
 adorned with weakly grown curling hair, some- 
 what gray ; an inquiring and yet little observ- 
 lag look, a shade oi" red on lie oose, a strong 
 
 under jaw, (the muscles of which had acquired 
 their strength by long service,) united with a 
 careless expression, and an excellent appetite^ 
 formed a whole : This was Mr. George Thom- 
 son, brother-in-law and partner of Mr. John 
 Walk'er, and chief representative of the house 
 of Walker and Company in Rio de Janeiro ; a 
 man about sixty years old, quick in his move- 
 ments, lively in conversation, and gay and good 
 humored, wiien he vvas not harassedby his sister. 
 
 Opposite to him sat Monsieur le Baron de 
 Spandau, " chevalier of difhjrent orders, of vari- 
 ous kinds of imhi^'itrie^^' universally known as a 
 very respectalile gentleman, because he was a 
 stated guest at the Hotel Faroux, often showed 
 himself in a box at the Tlieatre de St. Pedro de 
 .Ucantara, kept a couple of riding horses and a 
 negro in livery, always wore clean gloves, and 
 often waited for hours irt the ante-chamber of 
 this or that ambassador, till a valet informed 
 him that his e.xceUency was busy. He was a 
 lean littie fellow, appai*ently forty years old, 
 with blinking gray eyes, and sharply defined 
 features, out of the centre of which arose a 
 tura-«p nose, the wings of which fell in, and 
 peculiarly exposed the nostrils. Small, hardly 
 perceptible lips, closed a mouth which (ex- 
 cept for operations similar to the present) was, 
 for the moat part, only opened in the endeavor 
 to produce something piquant, in which he did 
 not always succeed, and which he himself antici- 
 pated by a smile, in case no one else should 
 laugh at his wit. His narrow forehead was co- 
 vered with dai'k hair, on whi^h he apjjeared to 
 bestow peculiar care, ae it dripped with oil and 
 pomatum, which the tropical heat dissolved into 
 troublesome fluidity. 
 
 Between the two, sat a tall, serious man, who 
 might be rather above forty years of age, with 
 regular features, and an expression of settled 
 melanchol}'. His whole aspect bore the stamp 
 of inward cultivation, which is indicated by a 
 certain something, which no barber can frizxle, 
 and no tailor can fit, even according to all the 
 rules of the fashioning art of our days, and after 
 all the precepts of the last number of the " Jour- 
 nal des Modes." 
 
 " You have then been married four times, as 
 your portraits at Beta Fogo, show ?" inquired 
 the little chevalier of the Briton, pursuing the 
 conversation, while the third turned over the 
 rich gastronomic bill of fare, and seemed to find 
 little to tempt his appetiteless palate. 
 
 " Strictly speaking, four times and a half!" 
 replied Mr, Thomson ; " for 1 was betrothed once, 
 and, so to say, almost married, when my intended, 
 whose presence made me happy at that time, 
 died suddenly, of the yellow fever, in Havana." 
 
 " And your wives were all English women !" 
 
 " By no means — but they were stout and cor- 
 pulent I they were all corpulent ; for this quality 
 was always my first requisite, when 1 made a 
 choice ; and where 1 found this, in connexion 
 with other desirable qu.ilities, I troubled myself 
 little about the nationrjity ; to the boundless 
 vexation of my family, who fairly drove me from 
 England on that account. My first wife weighed 
 two hundred and tliree pounds ! She was an 
 Irish woman, of very res]jcctable family, and 
 beautiful ! very beautiful, I tell you ! that is, 
 corpulent ! stout as a mau could desire a woman 
 to be!"
 
 150 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " You appear to have Turkish notions of beau- 
 1} ," renLarkcd the baron; " for stout, corpulent, 
 tnd beautiful, are known to signify one and the 
 same thing among the Turks." 
 
 " The Turks are pCTfcctly ris^ht, as to that I 
 perfectly right I entirely right ! That shows that 
 they are not so stupid ; and I am quite of their 
 opinion, for I love solidity I firmness ! and if I 
 were to find, to-night, ov to-morrow, an object 
 that particularly interests me — by a tendency to 
 corpulency, well understood — 1 will not be posi- 
 tive that I would not once more pay my tax to 
 the church, and marry, for the fifth time !" 
 
 " You would do perfectly right !" replied the 
 baron ; " a man like you, with such a fortune !" 
 
 " I should not easily find again a lady like 
 my last wife !" interrupted the old widower. 
 " She displayed a degree of corpulence, I assure 
 you — a corpulence which exceeded all my for- 
 mer expectations ; for it is a very singular thing, 
 the corpulence of women ! It has its crisis, after 
 which the corpulence either increases or sud- 
 denly fails, and is entirely lost. That was Oie 
 case with my first wife, who brought it no far- 
 ther than one hundred and eighty-two pounds, 
 and then became suflijring, hypochondriac, 'mys- 
 terical,* as the doctors call it, and grew as lean, 
 I assure you, as a European horse, that will eat 
 no grass here in Brazil ; and so she died, the 
 good woman !" 
 
 " As regards corpulence," remarked the baron, 
 " you will hardly find a country, besides Tur- 
 key, where the women spread as they do here. 
 jMany mothers of families, when they walk to 
 church on Sunday, behind their generation, can 
 evidently hardly move, from mere corpulence." 
 
 " Yes, so far as that goes," interrupted the 
 widower, " it is not to be denied, that female 
 corpulence increases here admirably ! But the 
 girls here marry at thirteen, and even younger ! 
 and the tendency to corpulence is then, for the 
 most part, undecided ! To t>e sure, most Brazilian 
 ladies become corpulent in matrimojiy ; but. 
 Baron ! the crisis, the crisis of which I have just 
 spoken, that must be guarantied, and it often 
 comes on very late; I mean, it may come on 
 four, five, or even six years after marriage, and 
 even later, when the house swarms with chil- 
 dren; but, you see, that depends on circum- 
 stances, on relations. A happy wife Adds to her 
 corpulence; and I maintain, from experience, 
 that where a woman suddenly grows thin, and 
 withers .iway, then it is not right with her heart, 
 then there is mental disease. But still I will by 
 no means assert that all women who do not feci 
 happy in marriage grow thin, either suddenly, 
 or by degrees ; by no means ! that depends on 
 circumstances ! 1 have experience in these mat- 
 ters, baron ! and know wliat married life is ! 
 Indillerence ! indificrence, baron 1 is a sure 
 foundation for corpulence and domestic happi- 
 ness! Sentiment, feeling, or the like quali- 
 ties and endowments, are dangerous, and gene- 
 rally bring on the crisis of which 1 speak. But 
 there are, nevertheless, robust natures, who defy 
 all attacUsof sentiment, and do not grow thin, as, 
 for example, my second wife, who was a Russian. 
 She v.-eighed a hundred and ninety-four pounds 
 and three-quarters in her bloom, and only eight 
 pounds less as a corpse. She was a noble wo- 
 man, 1 tell you ! but often sufl'eredlrom feeling, 
 from sentiment! and up to tliis day, I cannot 
 
 conceive the cause, for she had al? sh^reqoi'reil, 
 she wanted for nothing I horses and carriage, and 
 country house, and the like ! and 1 gave her open 
 credit with her milliner ! and, notwithstanding 
 all tliat, she had hardly reached the crisis, when 
 slie died — suddenly died '. as I told you, in her 
 bloom." 
 
 "Indeed!" said the third gentleman, who 
 had listened, with particular attention, to the 
 widnwcr*s experiences. 
 
 " It happened nearly the same with my last 
 wife," continued Mr. Thomson, " who, it is true, 
 only weighed a hundred and forty pounds when 
 1 married her; but »he had a tendency to corpu- 
 lency, a tendency of wliich I am a tolerable 
 judge, and six months after her first confinement 
 she weiglied a iiundred and ninety-three pounds; 
 after the second, two hundre4l and thirty-six and 
 three quarter pounds ; but then came the crisis. 
 She became melancholy, and learnt foreign lan- 
 guages. She was an Italian by birth, and at last 
 her mind became diseased, and slie got certain 
 notions that I did not love her, and the like stu- 
 pid stuff', that women take into their heads. And 
 she wanted for nothing ! she had all that she re- 
 quired, all that my other wives enjoyed, and 
 with which the first and last were contented, 
 until their happy end ! A woman, let me tell 
 you, is like a cylinder watch, like a repeater, 
 ^vhich will often keep good time forye-ars, if you 
 wind it up regularly^but at length it stops, for 
 the fii'st time, and repeats incorrectly ; it then 
 requires a skilful watchmaker to set it a going 
 ;igain, without spoiling it ; and the watchmakers 
 and physicians of our time, generally handle 
 their patients very superficially, and often do not 
 know themselves what part of the works is out 
 of order. That was the reason my la-^t wife died, 
 for, 1 tell you, she was shrunk away to a s!;ele- 
 ton, and her corpse only weighed eighty-three 
 pounds ! think of that ! a hundred and fifty- 
 three pounds diflerence, because the good woman 
 wa* wanting in iiuiitlerence ! in indiBerence, I 
 tell you !" 
 
 " You are yet in your best years, Mr. Thom- 
 son," remarked the serious man next to him, 
 who had laid aside the hill of fare; "you will 
 marry again ! I will make a bet with you, that 
 you wilt at least be betrothed in a year and a 
 day." 
 
 " I will rather bet the contrary with you, for 
 
 I honestly admit that I cannot live without a 
 wife ; I am so accustomed to wedded life, from 
 my youth upwai'ds, and shall now look about 
 me in earnest, once more, if I can find some- 
 thing according to my taste, with a tendency to 
 corpulency and the other qu,ilitips. But, alas ! I 
 shall never again meet with a wife like my last ! 
 
 II would, indeed, be a wonder if 1 should ! She 
 was from the Kio de la Plata, and, it is true, 
 only weighed a hundred and forty pounds when 
 1 married her ; but, she had a tendency to cor- 
 pulence ; a tendency, 1 tell you, which slic de- 
 veloped to two hundred and thirty-six and three 
 quarter pounds in lour years; in four years, I 
 tell you : and a better wife," he added, with a 
 sigh, " a better wife I shall probably never meet 
 with ! such a comfortable wife as tliat ! and if I 
 marry again, wliich God grant may soon happen, 
 1 shall look for a lady from La Plata, and 1 have 
 already written to my brother-in-law, in Bneiioa 
 Avres, about it. He knows mv taste suid Uv«
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 151 
 
 qualitips I require. I tell yrm what, gentlemen, 
 yoii are fools ; don't take it ill of me for sayint; 
 60 ; you are fools in your bachelor's life ; you will 
 die in it, without having lived, I can tell you ! 
 There Is nothing so pleasant as domestic happi- 
 ness and married life ; and whoever is not ac- 
 quainted with Ihem, does not know what day and 
 night are, I tell you I" 
 
 " Marriage may have its charming side," re- 
 plied the serious man, " that I do not deny ; but 
 I, aa a physician and unmarried man besides, 
 know only the dark side of matrimony, and, 
 above all, of marriage without love." 
 
 *' Marriage without love !" cried Mr. Thom- 
 son ; " the devil ! what has love to do with mar- 
 riage ? A girl does not ask you, ' Do you love 
 me.'' hut, ' Will you marry me.'' Marrying is 
 always the principal thing ! and I know young 
 ladies, of various ages, who would never ask a 
 gentleman, ' Do you love me .'' for fear he might 
 honestly answer, ' No !' and draw back, if love is 
 to be made a condition." 
 
 " 1 am entirely of your opinion ;" affirmed the 
 baron, pouring a tremendous dose of vanilla over 
 his fish. " The fearful thought of remaining an 
 old maid, has brought the gallopade into favor." 
 
 *' You must marry, doctor," said Mr. Thom- 
 son. "You suH'cr with hypochondria and melan- 
 choly. There is no such cure for them, as matri- 
 mony, I assure you ! 1 know that, by experi- 
 ence. Cream of tartar and castor oil will do no 
 good. Marriage is the only cure for melancholy!" 
 
 " Widowers, for the most part, soon marry 
 again!" remarked the doctor; "that is easily 
 explained — it is the force of habit; andawidow, 
 likewise, would not wait long and remain sin- 
 gle, if she enjoved the same freedom of choice 
 as a man. This freedom, 1 affirm, is founded in 
 natur.il rights, and we should find less of ner- 
 vous diseases and hysterical maladies, if women 
 were dilferently situated, in many respects. If 
 they were allowed to choose freely, we should 
 certainly witness less suli'ering and more happi- 
 ness on earth." 
 
 " To be sure, many women remain single," 
 observed Mr. Thomson, " because they are de- 
 prived of the liberty of making a free choice; 
 that is natural !" 
 
 •' Pardon me, sir," said the baron, " I am by 
 no means of your opinion ; I doubt if the free 
 choice of maids or widows would produce much 
 benefit, for, as long as 1 have been in the world, 
 1 find always that a girl chooses rather from 
 caprice than love, and, in hundreds of cases, se- 
 lects the most stupid and meanest of her ad- 
 mirers, who, however, may possess some exte- 
 rior qualities. A girl seldom, or never, chooses 
 a man for his mental accomplishments." 
 
 " Yovi have made a very just observation," as- 
 serted the doctor ; " but, notwithstanding that, 
 woman does not lo.se the right to a free choice — 
 errors, and even crimes, do not destroy the prin- 
 ciple of moral freedom. 
 
 " I agree with you entirely, doctor, as regards 
 free choice," observed Mr. Thomson. " I assert 
 that some nice woman would have chosen me, 
 long ago — some nice woman, with a tendency ! 
 with a tendency !" 
 
 His two companions smiled. 
 
 " How many pounds of domestic happiness 
 have yuu embraced, in all, Mr. Thomson r" in- 
 quired the baron. Have yuu ever summed up .'" 
 
 " Eight hundred and forty-three and three 
 quarter pounds !" quickly replied the old wi- 
 dower, "counted in the bloom; that is to say, 
 counted in the very bloom ! fur 1 kept correct 
 books, and weighed my wives every month, at the 
 new moon !" 
 
 The baron laughed heartily, and nearly swal- 
 lowed a fish bone. 
 
 A poor, but cleanly dressed man, of a sickly 
 aspect, slowly approached the table, and handed 
 the serious man a document, with an apology 
 for troubling him. The latter unfolded it, and 
 cast a glance over it, then drew a millreis bill 
 from his vest pocket, handed it to him, with the 
 paper, and said, in a low voice, " there ! but do 
 not drink it up ; give it to your wife, if this pa- 
 per be not false." 
 
 " False ! false ! Oh, God !" exclaimed the poor 
 fellow, while he ofl'ered his heartfelt thanks. 
 " It is, alas ! too true ; I have been here eight 
 years, as a sergeant of the German legion, and am 
 now the father of a family, with six little chil- 
 dren, and am sick, as you see !" 
 
 " That is all very well, my good man ; but 
 how can you have six children, when one, like 
 yourself — according to your document, has only 
 been married five years .' Your wife, then, has 
 twins :" 
 
 " No, my good sir, not twins ; but — but, she 
 is a French woman, from Provence, and — — " 
 
 Mr. Thomson burst into loud laughter, in 
 which he was joined by his two companions. 
 
 "That is all very well, my good man," con- 
 tinued the physician ; " but this privilege of pa- 
 rentage is contrary to reason. I do not give you 
 this alms, as the father of a family ; for at the 
 utmost I must consider your wife and children ; 
 for you, I have no consideration — none at all !" 
 
 " How so, sir .'" inquired the invalid, a little 
 embarrassed. 
 
 " Because it depended upon your free choice 
 to marry, or not to marry, and because thousand? 
 of men must abstain from that which you sought 
 in married life ; thousands, who have the same 
 claims to domestic happiness as yourself; but 
 who make a conscience of connecting a being 
 with their late, who has likewise claims on life, 
 and who then must share the sufferings of 
 her husband. If a person came to me, now, and 
 said, ' Sir, I have had to struggle through my 
 life in desolate loneliness ; 1 have sacrificed 
 myself, from conviction, for my nation and coun- 
 try, and have been obliged to deny myself all 
 domestic happiness ; I have enjoyed no love, and 
 have even never become a ' husband,' which yet 
 every dolt may be. Sir! 1 know nothing of love 
 and felicity — I stand alone on earth !' Whoever 
 says this to me, Ibr him I have consideration — 
 him, 1 understand." 
 
 " According to your views, doctor," said the 
 old widower, likewise bestowing a gift on the 
 poor man, " according to your views, no one 
 ought to marry." 
 
 " No one .' Pardon me ; you misunderstand 
 me. Let him marry, who finds reciprocal atfec- 
 tion, and feels himself in a condition to pro- 
 vide for his wife, and knows how to bring up 
 his children ; but let no one imagine that he 
 possesses especial claims to the consideration o{ 
 others, as the father of a family." The invalid 
 offered his thanks again, and withdrew. 
 
 " I consider family life as the most sacred
 
 152 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 bond nf human society," continued the doctor, 
 " but niyt propagation, as the highest vocation or 
 the first duty of man. I consider education the 
 most sacred requirement ! The mass, or crowd 
 of mankind, is not to be considered, but the cul- 
 tivation. There are shiftless creatures enough, 
 who lie about the sti-eets, and fill the prisons — 
 led, by degrees, from wretchedness to crime ; and 
 the source of their crimes is the levity of their 
 parents, in the ' gallopade to matrimony,' as our 
 baron justly calls it." 
 
 " You attach my own words to very singular 
 principles, doctor, which will hardy admit of 
 defence," observed the baron. 
 
 " I am, nevertheless, ready to maintain them. 
 The unanimous and universal complaint, in rela- 
 tion to the wretchedness of Europe, is sought to 
 be explained by the over population, and the 
 want of political and pei-sonal freedom. I think 
 it would be better if a man should first endeavor 
 to establish a free fatherland for his family, be- 
 fore he increased the population in number, and, 
 of course, only made tiie wretchedness greater." 
 
 " Those are evidently dangerous principles !" 
 exclaimed the baron ; " they would bring you to 
 prison in Europe." 
 
 " I believe the European powers have spies 
 enough to control the demagogue principles of 
 an individual in Brazil, as well as on the La 
 Plata ; only, people do not always take much 
 notice of tiieir investigations." 
 
 " Do you really think that the European pow- 
 ers have spies here in Rio ?" inquired the little 
 man, with the turned-up nose. 
 
 " I think that such scamps would be very in- 
 different to me, wherever and however they 
 might seek a collision with me." 
 
 The Baron shelled a banana, and filled his glass, 
 while Mr. Thomson again took up the word. 
 
 " You are then opposed to all emigi-ation from 
 excess of population, doctor .'" 
 
 " I would allow each one the personal liberty 
 to travel and settle himself where he will, or as 
 particular circumstances might lead him ; but 
 no nation on earth will ever become free through 
 emigration. .'\s to the rest, I believe that ex- 
 cessive population is often an erroneous idea ; 
 and that only despotism and slavery make it dif- 
 ficult for men to live, while there would be room 
 enough in the country for each nation to in- 
 crease in numbers, if it were only politically 
 free. The wretchedness lies, for the most part, 
 in the institutions of the country. The govern- 
 ment is certainly served by the great plurality of 
 the population, which increases the income of 
 the state by direct and indirect taxes. Whoever 
 feels no patriotism would be of no service to his 
 country, and may therefore emigrate, in God's 
 name." 
 
 " Certainly ; as to that, I cannot gainsay you," 
 observed Mr. Thomson. 
 
 " Did you not tell me, lately," continued the 
 physician, " of a young negro who would not 
 marry his black sweetheart until he had pur- 
 cliased her freedom ? he would not increase the 
 number of his master's slaves !" 
 
 " Certainly ; the young woman belonged to me, 
 and I gave her her marri;ige portion." 
 
 " Bravo ! Mr. Thomson, that looks like you ; 
 I must thank you for that, myself," returned the 
 doctor. " I renr.ember at least ten other cases of 
 the sort here, which redound to the honor of our 
 
 mulacks. But do you not find, in that, the direct 
 reverse of what I affirm, in relation to the levity 
 of the whites .' It is a crime to bring slaves into 
 the world, from convenience, without love; 
 slaves of the circumstances under which they 
 are born. If not exactly bondmen, they often be- 
 come critninals." 
 
 " Certainly ! I understand you, now; and am 
 entirely of your opinion," alErmed Mr Thom- 
 son, working away at his roast beef. 
 
 ** To leave an oppressed country," continued 
 the doctor, " without assisting in the deliverance 
 of one's fatherland, to wander away and help to 
 increase the population of a free country, to en- 
 joy the freedom for which a former generation 
 shed their blood, any one can do, and I find noth- 
 ing in this, either meritorious or honorable ! 
 Whoever thus leaves his nation and fatherland, 
 from selfishness, to promote his personal happi- 
 ness in some distant portion of the world, is, at 
 least, evidently, an egotist, who only thinks of 
 himself, and recognises no duty towards his na- 
 tion. That is my view. Can you gainsay it.'" 
 
 " No reasonable man could ever have an idea 
 of contradicting you in that," observed Mr. 
 Thomson," for your principles are thoroughly 
 patriotic, British principles, as we have mani- 
 fested under Chai-les the First." 
 
 " To your happy betrothed, within a year and 
 a day, Mr. Thomson !" cried the l)aron,with his 
 glass in his hand, and to the development of cor- 
 pulence!" 
 
 " Thank you, baron !" returned the other, " I 
 will avail myself of a good opportunity, if one 
 offers itself." 
 
 " An officer of the alfandega entered the apart- 
 ment, and approached the Briton, on whom his 
 look was directed, from the distance. He ad- 
 dressed him very politely, and handed him a 
 note: "A Swedish brig, from Buenos Ayres, 
 consigned to you, Senhor Thomson has just en- 
 tered tlie Franquia.* There are passengers of 
 your family on board, a young Senhor Walker 
 and his sister." 
 
 "Wh-a-t!" cried the old widower, with a 
 glance at the note he had just received; "my 
 nephew and niece on board ? on board the Swe- 
 dish brig ! I thank you, Senhor Pedro ! thank 
 you! Will you not take a glass of wine.' I thank 
 you for your attention !" 
 
 " I was on board, with the quarantine boat, 
 and took chai-ge of the letter bag, and the young 
 Senhor desired me to hand you this note, as he 
 was told that I was personally acquainted with 
 you." 
 
 " Are there no other passengers on board?" 
 inquired the doctor. 
 
 " i can give you the names," replied the oblig- 
 ing custom house officer, and handed a card to 
 the serious man. 
 
 " Shall we go out Mr. Thomson .'" whispered 
 the latter, as soon as he had cast a glance at the 
 list of names. 
 
 The little baron burned with impatience to 
 read the list likewise, and reached out his dry 
 fingers towards tlie doctor. 
 
 "This instant I will go out! this instant!" 
 answered Mr. Thomson. " I shall be very glad 
 to have the honor of your company." 
 
 " I should like, besides, to take a pleasure ex- 
 
 ■ A part of the bay of Riou
 
 DOLORES 
 
 153 
 
 cursion on the bay, as I tjo frequently," continu- 
 ed the doctor. " You came home very late, last 
 evening," said he, to tlie baron, as they rose from 
 the table. " If I am not mistaken, you galloped 
 past my chacara in great haste, after midiiight, 
 from the Gloria. I recognised you by your spurs 
 and your Chili hat. It was a beautiful moonlight 
 night." 
 
 The baron appeared, for the moment, a little 
 embarrassed, swallowed a slice of anana, cough- 
 ed, and at length replied : 
 
 " Very likely. I just remember that I had been 
 upon the Gloria, to enjoy tlie prospect by moon- 
 light, and found it so lovely, that I was belated." 
 
 " F'eared you had been attacked, for shortly 
 before I saw you a shot was fired — a very heavy 
 pistol shot, as it appeared, or a buck siiot. The 
 weapon was heavily loaded." 
 
 " A shot ? as 1 came down the hill .' I did not 
 hear a shot. I was, however, very much ab- 
 sorbed in meditation." 
 
 " So much the better that you know nothing 
 of the shot ; but the haste with which you passed 
 my garden gave me a certain cunnexion of ideas, 
 thank God, unfounded, for I did not hoar the 
 shot repeated 
 
 " A long Felouquc,* with an awning ar.J a 
 broad government (lag, rowod by twelve negroc3 
 in light sailor's dress, with straw hats, on which 
 fluttered broad black ribands, steered towards the 
 brig. It was tlie gondola of the guarda mor, 
 who soon mounted (lie quarterdeck, attended by 
 a subaltern officer. He was a youn^ man, of a 
 highly respectable family, who spoke fluently 
 five languages, and was not unknown as a satiri- 
 cal poet in the epigrammatic style. 
 
 The appearance of this man, as the represen- 
 tative of a nation, on board of an arriving vessel, 
 had in it something peculiaidy imposing. 
 
 A simple blue naval uniform, embroidered 
 with gold, white ])antaloons, a navil hat, and a 
 valuable sword, adorned his slender fuure, of a 
 middling height. His sallfiw countenaTice, with 
 dark moustaches, was legibly stamped by God's 
 hand with the impress of humanity. 
 
 The whole appearance of this man was evi- 
 dently calculated to give every new comer the 
 most advantageous idea of his nation, and to 
 infuse unbounded confidence in Brazilian na- 
 natinnal character, f 
 
 He took possession of the ship's papers, and 
 list of passengers, in a serious, businesslike man- 
 
 Are we ready. Dr. Thorfin .'" whispered the ner, cast a penetrating glance upon the several 
 
 Englishman, who had poured out a couple of' 
 glasses of wine for the custom house officer. 
 
 " I am at your service," replied the doctor. 
 Both took a courteous leave of the chevalier, who 
 now scanned over the passenger list, which, 
 however, the custom house officer demanded 
 hastily, as he required it in his duties. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PECULIAR CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 The brig Nordstjernan had reached the Fran- 
 quia, an inlet on the right shore, between the 
 fortresses of Santa Cruz and Da Vilhalcon, also 
 called Do-Vilganhon, which latter is erected on 
 a rocky islet in the middle of the bay. 
 
 Dolores and iier frieniis abandoned themselves, 
 from the first ray of dawn, to a.stonishment and 
 admiration of nature. The gigantic rocky mas- 
 ses of the nearest coast presented the ?ooear- 
 ance of monuments of creation, formed I'rom 
 chaos, when the elements were separated for the 
 formation of our planet. A constant succession 
 of amazing natural scenes gradually unfolded 
 themselves to their view, in the interior of the 
 bay, like a panorama, whose several parts har- 
 monized as well with tlie whole, as they pro- 
 duced a harmonious effect upon the minds of the 
 voyagers. 
 
 Tile Nordstjernan lay at anchor. The shal- 
 lops and boats of the authorities came out to her, 
 according to the established regulations. The 
 quarantine boat had already returned to the cily, 
 as we have learned in the Hotel Karoux, and, with 
 greater anxiety than perhaps the occasion re- 
 quired, Dolores and Alvarez awaited the visit of 
 the guarda mor, who went in person on board 
 of every newly arrived vessel, to take possession 
 of the ship's papers and passports, and convince 
 himself of thei' accordance with the passengers 
 and cargo. 
 
 '20 
 
 persons, and, among the rest, upon Miss Fanny 
 Walker and Mr. Habakkuk Daily, and exchanged 
 a friendly word with the captain, and this and that 
 passenger. He commanded the flag to be hoisted 
 up the foremast, prob ibly as a signal thut his 
 duty had been performed, and then declared that 
 the passengers might land at their pleasure, and 
 left the vessel. The broad national flag waved 
 over the awning of the long gondola — the twelve 
 negroes dipped their oars in regular time in the 
 mirrorlike wave, and the guarda mor, with his 
 subordinate, swung over to another vessel, which 
 had likewise just cast anchor. 
 
 With a less burdening heart, Dolores now sat 
 beside Horatio, and observed, with a wandering 
 gaze, now one, and then the other, of the land- 
 scape groups of these wonderful environs ; but 
 the surrounding forms were too exuberantly rich 
 and sublime for the eye to embrace a single 
 scene, to say nothing of the entire panorama, 
 in case the immediate situation of the homeless 
 exiles had allowed them leisure to give them- 
 selves up to enj'winent. 
 
 The sun gradually descended towards the 
 western horizon. The entire rocky mountains, 
 the Devil's Flat, the Two lirothers, the Corco- 
 vado, the Gabia, tile Tijuca, etc., at whose feet 
 lay the city, with its countless forest of masts, 
 glittered in the reddish purple atmosphere, 
 which, notwithstanding the outlines of the forma 
 and objects, could be seen through with Chinese 
 distinctness. Like the glance of a volcano, the 
 sun d-irted upwards, behind the pointed forms 
 of the rocivy tops, while the white walls of all the 
 
 * Gan tola. " 
 
 t He was incorriiptibly strict against the illegal im* 
 portation of negi'o staves, ami insisted upon tlie enlbrce. 
 ment of tlielaw. His |)u^ltiOll but too frcqiiendy olferuj 
 him opport unities of ybsurv nig tUe system of ihe govern- 
 ment, by which Brazil was evidently becoming diplo. 
 maticaliy ruined; whei-efoi-e, his secession to the leaguo 
 otthe Faroupilhas muy more readily be e.xplaiiied. On 
 a line Sunday morning, in June, IS4-2, bis house, in the 
 Rua Direita, was catered by pemianentos; but they did 
 not find bim he had escaped. A noble Briton bad ortered 
 him an asylum, and kept liim concealed in his bouse lor 
 months, while they were louiving for Kim at a dijiaiico
 
 154 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 buildinjs of the city anci ifs environs, and the 
 sails of tlie vesst^ls, ri-llecteJ a rosy hue, and 
 were min-orail in tho azure blue of the b.iv. 
 Countless ^onilyl-is and barks, whose colored 
 crews bore the appear .iiice of neatness and clean- 
 liness, in their light clothiji^, glided past in the 
 fore,'roirid, and "were lost behind tiie 1 ir^er 
 vessels, whose motion averted the tbou,'lit that 
 the whole was a wonderful picture andlio real- 
 ity, since the latter was hardly able to present 
 sucli a panorama in any country in the world. 
 
 The passe. liters, by de^'rees, prepared them- 
 selves to maUe use of the permission of tije 
 guarda mor to leave the bris;, in which they 
 had encountered many dangers, and whiled awa'v 
 many an hour in cordial inlorcourse. 
 
 Dr. iMerbold approached the Russian ex-naval 
 officer, with German good humor, and endea- 
 vored, in (he best way he could, to apologize for 
 his peevish ebullition, in relation to the fugi- 
 tive, Alvarez, on tlie La Plata river. 
 
 He explained that his ill humor, in that case, 
 was to be attributed to an attack of seasickness, 
 and, "like all otlier mental emotions," originated 
 in reasons of the stomach. He gave the assurance 
 that he was very liberal, and not at all behind 
 the crown prince of Prussia, in that respect, with 
 whose reign a new Aurora was to dawn upon 
 the lauded land of the German Confederacy, and 
 Prussia (if not all (lermany) would become the 
 most free country upon God's earth. " 1 assure 
 you," added he, eloquently, " when the crown 
 prince of Prussia a.ssumes the government, we 
 shall experience a new epoch in the history of 
 the world, for his royal highness invented the 
 powder with which his royal highness will blow 
 all difficulties into the air, which have, until 
 now, stood opposed to the union, in a legal man- 
 ner, (of course,) of Germany, as required by the 
 spirit of the times. I can assure you, he is the 
 very genius of liberalism ! The only thing that 
 I fear, is that he may be too liberal for the Ger- 
 man people ; that would be bad, indeed ! You 
 will find this to be the case, and hereafter vou 
 will think of me ! And if you should happ'en, 
 in your travels, to discover a species of beetle 
 which has, as yet, remained unknown, you would 
 eternally oblige me, if you would send one or 
 two well prepared specimens, addressed to ine, 
 Dr. Merbold, and directed to some of the Prussian 
 consuls. I would be, as 1 said, eternally obliged 
 to you." 
 
 Hinango promised that he would think of him, 
 and li.LS luobahly kept his word, even if he could 
 not succeed in discovering a new species ol 
 beet! ■, except the gi-eat crowd of tame " Krench 
 haters," of various natures, who, on the acces- 
 sion of r'rederick William the Third, crawled and 
 buzzed about, in Prussia and the whole of Ger- 
 many, and hummed the so called " Rhine song." 
 The captain had his shallop got ready to go on 
 shore in the evening, to report himself at the 
 bureau of the house to which he was consigned ; 
 but especially to place Seiiora Dolores and Mr. 
 Robert Walker on " terra firma," in case the 
 officer of the alfandega had not met with the old 
 uncle. He ottered the same opportunity to the 
 other passengers, and all set themselves in mo- 
 tion to pack their carpet b,igs, since the other 
 baggage was to be left on board, to pass the in- 
 spection of the alfandega. 
 
 It was not long belore the mate discovered a 
 
 felouque making for the brig; and Mr. Robert 
 Walker recognised, by means of tlie telescope, 
 his old uncle, whom he had seen in Buenos 
 .\yres some years before. 
 
 " That is uncle George ! and, as it seems, hale 
 and hearty !" said he to his sister Fanny, who 
 now felt, more than before, the oppressiveness of 
 her situation, in being compelled to seek an asy- 
 lum and receive hospitality in a strange family, 
 of a strange nation, with foreign customs and 
 foreign prejudices. 
 
 Notwithstanding the alleviation of her spirit, 
 and all tlie decision of her intellectual character, 
 she felt the painful restrictions whicli she, as a 
 female, was subjected to by the regulations of 
 the social world, which concede to a man the 
 privilege of standing independently, while many 
 men have less of moral independence than wo- 
 men. Dolores felt tlie contradiction, and even 
 the ridiculousness, of the social idea of wishing to 
 protect a female by contesting her right to pro- 
 tect herself, which many women are often better 
 able to do than the men who deny all moral 
 independence.* 
 
 The felouque approached, and Hinango disco- 
 vered, with old Mr. Thomson, one of his friends, 
 whom we have previously noticed in the Hotr-1 
 Faroux. Dr. Thorfin was, by birth, a Norwe- 
 gian, who had practised as a physician in Odessa 
 and Moscow, and was afterwards in the Russian 
 navy, where he lived for some years, on board 
 the same frigate with Hinango. 
 
 His ill health had served him as a pretext to 
 his dismissal, in order to save himself from 
 transportation to Siberia, as, on the other hand, it 
 induced him to take up his residence in the be- 
 neficent and wholesome climate of Guenabara.f 
 He lived quiet and retired, in the neighborhood 
 of Rio, absorbed in the serious stuily of natural 
 science, without exactly turning away the sick, 
 who sometimes made demands on his experi- 
 ence as a physician. 
 
 Robert Walker consulted with Dolores, if it 
 would not be better for her to remain in her 
 cabin, until he handed his father's letter to liis 
 uncle, and explained the existing circumstances. 
 Tlie unhappy one, who had taken leave of 
 her beloved, at the foot of his scaflbld, with so 
 much strength of mind, now trembled before the 
 entrance into relations, the elements of which 
 were as distant to her as she was strange to the 
 world which she was now approacliing. 
 
 Sighing deeply, she gave her consent to all 
 the measures which the confidant of her child- 
 hood thought pro|)er to take for her, and with- 
 drew from the quarterdeck. 
 
 " Halloo, Bob, my boy! halloo! How d've do .' 
 Welcome to Rio ! Whore's Miss Fanny .' not 
 seasick yet.'" cried Mr. Thomson, from the 
 felouque. 
 
 " She is below, getting ready to go on shore," 
 returned Hob. 
 
 " How you have grown Robert! you are fit for 
 the London grenadier guard ! you have become 
 a fine young man, Bob ! but you ought not to 
 know that I" 
 
 Old Mr. Thomson scrambled up the ladder, 
 
 • The situation and circumstance! in whicli we here 
 beholJ Dulorei, are partly strange and unknown iu 
 Norlli Araei'ica, where women enjoy a greater degree of 
 social indej»endencc than in any other country, 
 
 t The original name ol the jirovince of Rio de Janeiro
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 155 
 
 and soon stood, with Dr. Thorfin, on the gang- 
 Way. A short, British, mutual introduction en- 
 sued. Hinango embraced his friend from the 
 far north, and stepped aside with him, while 
 Robert seized the arm of his uncle and led him 
 to a bench on the quarterdeck. 
 
 " Here my dear uncle, in the first place, is a 
 letter from my father, with a thousand verbal 
 greetings. Read it, if you please. I will run down 
 to Fanny, in the meanwhile, and tell her you 
 are here." 
 
 " Thank you ; but first get me a little fire for 
 my cigar, which has gone out." 
 
 Robert gave the recjuisite order to the long 
 Ottar, and hastily withdrew, that he might not 
 be besieged with questions, before the old man 
 had read the clear statement of circumstances in 
 the letter. The latter was soon absorbed in read- 
 ing, and his broad, good-humored, jovial coun- 
 tenance, offered a different expression at almost 
 every line. First he drew his forehead into deep 
 wrinkles ; then he raised his eyebrows to the 
 utmost height, and, at a particular place, cried 
 out, "five thousand pesos upon her head, to who- 
 ever delivers her alive !" He then hurried on 
 to the end of the third page, hastily sprang up, 
 and exclaimed : " Bob ! Bob ! its all right ! you 
 are welcome, with your sister ! Ask Miss Fanny 
 to come on deck ; or perhaps I had better step 
 down !" 
 
 ^ Bob, who had waited with peculiar anxiety, at 
 the door of Dolores' cabin, now beckoned her to 
 follow him, and appeared with her, upon the 
 quarterdeck, before his uncle. 
 
 " Heigho !" muttered the old widower to him- 
 self, as the majestic figure from La Plata came 
 before him, " there is a tendency ; there is a ten- 
 dency to corpulence ! that suits me right well ! 
 Thank you, brother John ! you have executed 
 my commission, well!" 
 
 With all the embarrassment of a female, in a 
 strange country, exiled and condemned to a pain- 
 ful incognito, Dolores approached her future 
 protector, whose exterior had in it nothing that 
 was repulsive, if, on the other hand, it had no 
 particular attraction for her. 
 
 Like a chamberlain in Buckingham Palace, at 
 the appearance of Queen Victoria, only bowing 
 less profoundly, Mr. Thomson stepped up to 
 the young lady, held out his hand to her, and 
 said, in a carefully measured tone : 
 
 " Miss Fanny ! as such, I have the honor to 
 greet you. Receive the assurance, that Mr. 
 Walker has afl'orded me a high gratification, to 
 receive you as my niece, and, as such, I shall be 
 happy to receive you^that is, my sister. Miss 
 Thomson, will ; she is already informed of your 
 arrival." 
 
 Dolores expressed her thanks for his sympa- 
 thy, and assured him, in a voice full of emotion, 
 that she should greatly regret, if her visit should 
 be in the least troublesome to him or his sister. 
 Whereupon the old widower interrupted her 
 with protestations to the contrary, and, stepping 
 backvyard a few paces, evidently contemplated 
 his niece, from " top to toe," with increasing 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " Do you think, then, my dear uncle," in- 
 quired Robert, " that Aunt Susan will keep the 
 secret .'" 
 
 " Aunt Susan .' Miss Thomson keep the se- 
 cret !" returned the old gentleman, " She must 
 
 keep it ! she shall be silent ! — or — or I will show 
 her that I am master of the house !" 
 
 " I have no doubt of that, dear uncle. But if 
 she should not be silent — if slie should let out 
 something, then it would be too late ; even your 
 anger— your just anger, my dear uncle, would 
 do no good then !" 
 
 " I will rather make short work !" cried Mr. 
 Thomson. " Miss Susan is very anxious to be 
 mijrried — she is in love with a German baron ; 
 she may take him, or rather he may take her, 
 and I will get a housekeeper, right away, and be 
 alone — that will be best." 
 
 Without wishing to operate in the least against 
 his aunt's desire for matrimony, Robert instantly 
 made the very just remark, that lier removal 
 from his uncle's house would throw difficulties 
 in the way of the young lady's reception. 
 
 "Difticulties! what difliculties ?" inquired Mr. 
 Thomson. " I do not see any !" 
 
 " Excuse me, my dear uncle !" replied Ro- 
 bert, in very low tone, " if Senora Dolores might 
 live alone with my housekeeper, it would be 
 altogether more suitable that Aunt Susan should 
 know nothing at all about her arrival ; and 
 she " 
 
 " But she knows it already — she already 
 knows, that Miss Fanny is here ! I sent a negro, 
 from the Hotel Faroux, to my house at Bot* 
 Fogo, to inform her, and to order my carriage to 
 be sent to the hotel. Miss Susan knows it 
 already." 
 
 " Very well, then, my dear uncle ! Aunt Su- 
 san expects Miss Fanny ; could we not tell her 
 it was a misunderstanding ? that you misunder- 
 stood the officer from the alfandega ? that I only 
 had come .' We could then, of course, immedi- 
 ately engage a country house for Senora Dolores, 
 and a trusty housekeeper." 
 
 " That will not do ! that will not do ! ! Ro- 
 bert," cried Mr. Thomson, like a pilot in a 
 storm. " That is contrary to custom ! that v/ould 
 never do ! !" 
 
 "Excuse me, then, my dearuncle,but it would 
 answer still worse for the Senora to live alone 
 with you, with a housekeeper." 
 
 Mr. Thomson sighed, and bit oflT a piece of his 
 cigar. " Hem ! you are quite right, Robert ! 
 you are quite right ! the stupid, miserable preju- 
 dices ! I see it all ; it will not do ! and nothing 
 remains for us, but to oblige Miss Susan to hold 
 her tongue." 
 
 " Alas ! there appears to be no alternative," 
 observed Robert. " if she has still such a temper 
 as at Buenos Ayres, where she wouki not once 
 permit me to play the forte piano, for " 
 
 "Yes, alas! alas!" sighed Mr. Thomson, 
 " that's it ! there's the trouble ! she becomes 
 more insupportable every year. Nevertheless," 
 said he, suddenly interrupting himself, for he felt 
 that he had already said too much in tlie presence 
 of the newly arrived stranger, " nevertheless, 
 that is nothing to the purpose ! I am master of 
 
 my house, and Miss Fanny, may I oflijr you 
 
 my arm .' Will you be so good as to hold yourself 
 in readiness ? We shall meet my carriage at the 
 landing place." 
 
 Dolores withdrew, to give her attendants the 
 necessary orders, and to complete her toilet for 
 the voyage. 
 
 ' Damn !" muttered the old'widower to him- 
 self, as he looked after her with sparkling ey
 
 156 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ' Damn ! there's a tendency ! there's a tenden 
 c\ '. my word for it." 
 
 " Oh, yes, my dear uncle ! I assure you Senora 
 Dolores possesses a poetic^il tendency, one of tlie 
 
 most distin;^uished ! '' 
 
 Mr. Thomson found that he had muttered a 
 little too loud, and immediately recollecting him- 
 self, he added : 
 
 " iVIore than a tendency, there appears already 
 a bloomin; development! She must produce 
 admirable works. She must be a poetess of the 
 lirst class, to have such a price set upon her 
 bead ! Five thousand pesos make a thousand 
 pounds sterliiig — the e.vcliaiige is trifling; cer- 
 tainly the danger is gre.it, because tlie tempta- 
 tion IS great, and we must be pruilent." 
 
 Hinango remained in the middle of tlie vessel, 
 in eai-nest conversation with Dr. Thorfin, while 
 this introduction of the lady took place. 
 
 " Your position is discovered," continued the 
 doctor, " and few of your former acquaintance 
 will speak to you, if they meet you. The fear of 
 compromising themselves will naturally remove 
 all those people from you, who formerly sought 
 your society. You were an object of curiosity 
 to many, in consequence of your resignation in 
 Russia and the fate that followed it. Now you 
 are an object of dread to your former friends ; 
 they will fly from you as from the cliolera." 
 
 " That is all not new to me, my dear Thorfin," 
 rejoined Hinango ; " it is only a tragical re-edi- 
 tion of my situation and circumstances in Eu- 
 rope. I know the world, and do not, therefore, 
 hate or despise the men who comply with its 
 regulations, and withdraw themselves from me, 
 because the circumstances in which they are 
 placed require it. But nothing is more sacred 
 to me, than the silent respect of noble men, who, 
 even though controlled by the power of circum- 
 stances, acknowledge and honor the man in me !" 
 " There are letters for you i'rom London, un- 
 der cover to Falter and Vernon, but open 
 
 they lie open in the envelope ; and the docu- 
 ments in the letters also unsealed. 
 
 " Why !" exclaimed Hinango, " the docu- 
 ments opened, too ! You are joking !" 
 
 " Mr. Vernon sent for me, and showed me the 
 packet of letters : and you may be satisfied that 
 the letters to you were opened ; where, and by 
 whom, cannot be known. No suspicion rests 
 upon t'alter and Vernon, for we know them suf- 
 ficieiLtly well. But the letters arrived by the 
 English mail, and are dated at London. Could 
 they have been opened in England .'" 
 
 " Opened, and not sealed again, do you say .' 
 Perhaps, this may have occurred through care- 
 lessness .'" 
 
 " You may soon convince yourself of the fact, 
 mysterious as it is. There is, besides, a fellow 
 here wlio has got track of you, and, among 
 others, has inti'uded himself upon Fitz — since he 
 seems to know that you were friends in youth." 
 " A spy, then ! probably a fellow who does a 
 commissiiMi business for several princely houses, 
 as we have already known such creatures." 
 
 " It appears so ; I even suspect that he does 
 business for Rosas, for he sneaks around here, 
 ahiongst the Argentine fugitives ; and probably 
 tlii'j government also gives him commissions, 
 for he hjs admittance to some ministers of the 
 carauiuro party." 
 
 " Vthit is the fellow's name :" 
 
 "He calls himself the Baron de Spanihiu 
 Where he came from, I do not know. Accord 
 ing to his dialect, he is a Prussian." 
 
 " And the documents are probably litho- 
 graphic circulars ?" asked Hinango, interrupting 
 himself. 
 
 " Cinder the former title, certainly ; but, very 
 naturally, they can compromise no one besides 
 you ; you only are br.uided ; because it is en- 
 tirely impossible to discover any one of the 
 names, for no one knows the book that serves 
 you as a key." 
 
 " Vt-ry well ! then through me no one wilj 
 be easily compromised ; and, as concerns my- 
 self, 1 have, long since, had no other object in 
 life than to labor tor the cause of the people, s9 
 far as 1 am able," replied Hinango. 
 
 Mr. George Thomson just then led his niece 
 to the gangway, accompanied by Robert, who 
 was followed by Achilles and Corinna. 
 
 This was, of course, the moment in which Do- 
 lores must take leave of her travelling compan- 
 ions, Horatio, Hinango, and Alvarez. A wide 
 chasm of convenance :xnd etiquette, vvhose steep 
 sides, grown up with all the thorny bushes, 
 thistle growth, and belladonna of social regula- 
 tions and prejudices, must henceforth separate 
 the young lady from social intercourse with the 
 men to whose spirits hers was so nearly allied, 
 and who had become so precious to her heart. 
 The perception of this reality appeared sud. 
 denly to awaken, in ail its painfulness ; her 
 countenance lost the last trace of color, a tear 
 dimmed her eye, and she seized the hand of Ho- 
 ratio, who waited by the steps with Alvarez and 
 the two Scandinavians. 
 
 " Seiior Hinango," said she, and laid the 
 hand of the youth in his, " if 1 have a right to 
 your friendship, to your sympathy, and your re- 
 membrance, then take charge of our Horatio, or 
 at least assist him to find a place of rest, some- 
 where here in Rio." 
 
 Hinango replied to this honoring request, with 
 all the force of his peculiarly heartfelt lan- 
 gu.ige, while Mr. Thomson threw a criticising 
 glance upon the " foreigner," who, as it ap- 
 peared, possessed, in such a high degree, the 
 confidence of his niece. 
 
 Robert informed himself of tlie hotel where 
 Hinango would stop, and Dolores painfully felt 
 the difficulties of her s. (nation, which did not 
 permit her to invite eithei Horatio or Hinango 
 to visit her, since she, as a young unmarried 
 lady, had no " Self" 
 
 She had, through the regulations of the social 
 world, no independent existence, but was only a 
 being, who must become by contract the lawful 
 property of a man, b.-lbre she could invite a 
 man, as the " friend of her husbLuul," to visit her, 
 inasmuch as this " self had then become " plu- 
 ral," in which the " singular" of female indi- 
 viduality was merged. 
 
 Nothing can more strongly designate female 
 nullity, in the soci;J world, than the present sit- 
 uation of Dolores in contrast with licr intellectual 
 elevation. A being, whose inspired words were 
 able to arouse the might of a whole people, and 
 shake the throne, or divan, or chair of a tyrant, 
 could not, without the guard of some governess 
 or another, dictate a poem to a friend, read a 
 literary work with him, or consult with him 
 uuon the most sacred concerns of humanity. 
 
 j
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 187 
 
 Why not .' Because this being has the misfor- 
 (ttne to be a woman'. 
 
 On the other hand, the pretensions of the most 
 Unintcllectu:il man might require such a woman 
 to give " herself to him," fo enable her, tliereliy, 
 to obtain the right to bear his name, or to pur- 
 chase a new hat, or a new shawl, on his account, 
 (which, however, must not be too dear,) and 
 (;ive the invitation to some acquaintance to 
 " be 90 good as fo come and see Us." If these 
 and similar regu)ations are more or less strictly 
 recognised by the whole civilized world, it 
 would be Well worthy of philosophical contem- 
 plation, to esamine upon what basis such so 
 called social laws are founded. What was 
 feared, when such laws were created.' Immo- 
 rality .' In that case, such mistrust involves a 
 coarse insult to the female sex, by a doubt of 
 their dig.;ity and honor. Or was a forcible at- 
 tack, an asi»ault, upon honor, virtue and inno- 
 cence ajiprehended .' Then, indeed, were the in- 
 sult not less against the male sex. These laws 
 would appear to indicate, by their necessity, 
 the low degree of the morality of the so called 
 educated classes, for whom they were especially 
 created. 
 
 In the very distrust, in the doubt of morality, 
 lies an evidence of the prevailing immorality of 
 those who maintain such regulations, since they 
 judge others according to themselves, and deny 
 all moral dignity, in even the noblest beings of 
 both sexes. Even the thought of abusing per- 
 sonal and moral freedom lies far remote from the 
 moral dignity, which carries, within itself, the 
 means and weapons to guard itself. 
 
 Robert appeared involuntarily absorbed, in 
 deep reflection, upon the situation of Dolores. 
 He was urged, by a silent congenial feeling, to 
 beg his uncle to extend an invitation to the two 
 friends of his playmate of La Plata — ^to open to 
 them his hospitable house. But the words died 
 on his lips, and he deferred his intimation to the 
 future, and took leave of both, with the re- 
 mark, that he should soon take the liberty of 
 calling on them. He then stepped into the 
 felouque, with Dolores and his uncle, while the 
 captain, with his other passengers, took their 
 places in the shallop, and both vessels steered 
 towards the landing places of Rio de Janeiro. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Theke are hours, in the development of the 
 inward life and character of a youth, in which 
 he involuntarily, as it were, attains a conscious- 
 ness of his powers, and becomes a man at once. 
 
 The same youth Who, seventeen days before, 
 when just on the point of stepping over the 
 threshold of his paternal home, to go into the 
 world, sat trimming his finger nails in his father's 
 cabinet at Buenos Ayres, now sat, with Do- 
 lores and his uncle, in the Brazilian shallop, and 
 surveyed, with a single glance of the mind, the 
 present and the future, of a being who required 
 a protector from oppression and danger 
 
 Robert, who had grown up from boyhood with 
 Dolores, had first recognised her mental worth 
 when the consequences of her sublime poetic 
 cflhrts had resulted in the necessity of her llight. 
 What long years of social intercourse had no? 
 revealed to him, had become suddenly evident 
 since he saw her in such danger, and especially 
 since he had become more and more acijuainted 
 with her inward nature, which had unfolded 
 itself to Hinango's kindred spirit in so many in- 
 terviews and communications, to which he, as 
 well as Horatio, had been a listener. 
 
 The transparent purity of his youthful heart 
 evinced itself, in the clear perception of hia 
 friend's situation He belield now, in the play- 
 fellow of his sister, the persecuted poetess from 
 La Plata, whose fate v/as to be placed at the mer- 
 cy of a female, his aunt, who, " conceived and 
 born in dullness," and brought up in prejudice 
 and heartlessness, was a burthen to herself and 
 others. He suddenly recurred to what Barigaldi 
 had revealed to them, in relation to the suspi- 
 cions of the secret police and his father's pre- 
 sence of mind, which appeared to have succeeded 
 in making the flight pass for an abduction, and 
 in averting from Dolores the suspicion of being 
 in realitythe authoress of the Elegies. 
 
 Perezoso, the only one who was convinced of 
 this fact, had disappeared, and cari'ied his secret 
 with him into a watery grave. 
 
 After sitting self-absorbed for some moments, 
 unobservant of the strange and imposing appear- 
 ances around him, he said, at length, to his uncle 
 and Dolores ; 
 
 " Permit me to explain to you my views, and 
 the ways and means which I find desirable for 
 your safety. JMy aunt ought, in no case, to know 
 in what danger you are placed. Far be it from 
 me to doubt her character, or to expect that she 
 may, in an ebullition of ill humor, become in- 
 tentionally prejudicial to you — far from ;t ; I d.o 
 not think of such a thing. But, so far as I know 
 my aunt, you are as remote and different from 
 each other, as two women on earth can possibly 
 be. The very mental qualities in you, which 
 should bespeak her protection, \iouid call forth 
 her decided antipathy." 
 
 " Bob, my boy !" said his uncle, "you speak 
 like a man of experience and knowledge of 
 mankind ! say on !" 
 
 " My father has declared to the authorities, in 
 Buenos Ayres, that I have run away with you, 
 and that you are any thing but a poetess." 
 
 " What? what.'" cried Mr. Thomson, " run 
 away ? run nway ?" 
 
 ' Until now," continued Eobert, "the authori- 
 ties have in their hands no evidence of the con- 
 trary. Aunt Susan is expecting my sister, and 
 you appear. As a fugitive, as a persecuted po- 
 etess, she would hardly receive you ; and even 
 were she to do so, it would soon become known 
 here that you are the authoress of the Elegies. In 
 short. Aunt Susan is Aunt Susan, and cannot 
 hold her tongue ! I therefore propose to conceal 
 from her, altogether, tlio true cause of your de- 
 parture, and follow exactly the path which my 
 father has broken in Buenos Ayres, by telling 
 her that 1 have carried you off — that you are my 
 betrothed." 
 
 Mr. Thomson suddenly made a grimace, like a 
 pug dog to whom a piece of cake is held out 
 and then quickly drawn away again.
 
 158 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " As your betrothed !" cried he, and forgot to 
 close his lips again. Two cases presented them- 
 selves to him, lil<e a landscape revealed by light- 
 ning in a dark night: the possibility that a se- 
 cret understanding already existed between his 
 nephew and his " niece;" or else that such a 
 thing might come to pass ; and, in the latter case, 
 it appeared to him dangerous " to paint the devil 
 on the wall," to proclaim a connexion which 
 might make a bad stroke through his reckoning, 
 especially as Seiiora Dolores had, in his eyes, an 
 admirable tendency to corpulency, and in con- 
 sequence of a former commission to his brother- 
 in-law on the La Plata river, he had already laid 
 out his plan. 
 
 " But then you cannot live with us, Robert!" 
 cried he, as quickly and loudly as before. 
 
 " It is all the same," said Robert; " I will glad- 
 ly renounce a daily intercourse with Senora Do- 
 lores, and will live wherever you think best, if I 
 can only thereby avert from our friend the sus- 
 picion of her being the authoress of the Elegies, 
 and promote her personal safety." 
 
 " Thank you, dear, noble Robert !" exclaimed 
 Dolores, seizing his hand, which Mr. Thomson 
 found very confiding, and not exactly necessary ; 
 " 1 thank you for your sympathy and forethought, 
 and recognise therein the brother of my friend 
 Fanny." 
 
 " 1 think so too," interrupted the old widower, 
 who had no objection whatever to Dolores' con- 
 sidering his nephew as the brother of his niece, 
 though not as her betrothed, either in jest or 
 earnest. " That is my opinion ! Robert and 
 Fanny have one heart, one and the same heart 
 exactly, and it is to be hoped that Robert will 
 retain his '" 
 
 Without understanding the double meaning 
 which the good uncle evidently, very slily, and 
 really ingeniously attached to these words, Do- 
 lores assented to the congeniality and nobleness 
 of heart of her two friends, and the old widower 
 continued: 
 
 " 1 confess, Robert, that you see with a sharp 
 glance into tjie position of things. I even doubt 
 whether Seiiora Dolores would be safe in our 
 house for one hour, if Miss Susan knew her to 
 be a poetess. You know, Robert, she has her 
 prejudices, and would go into convulsions, if she 
 knew that Senora was an authoress, such as Lady 
 Morgan, Lady Blessington, Madame de Stael, 
 Madame Dudevant, or some such person, at 
 whose names she loses her self-command, and 
 wishes that the devil had all reading and writing 
 in hell, except what relates to the literature 
 of missions." 
 
 " I know all that," replied Robert; " and even 
 admitting that her antipathy ao;ainst intellectual 
 eflort in women were not so bitter, as is really 
 the case, the way that my father has opened for 
 us would still remain the only advisable one to 
 deceive, yet further, the authorities of La Plata, 
 who will not neglect to watch us here, through 
 their agents." 
 
 " They will yield me no peaceable asylum 
 here !" sighed Dolores ; " there exists a secret as- 
 sociation, extended to all parts of the world, the 
 most efficient which has ever been organized, 
 since the Jesuits gave them the example. It is 
 the association of espionage, the working in 
 common of the secret agents of all the despotic 
 powers on earth, for the persecution of the pa- 
 
 triots of all countries, for the extinction of the 
 idea of the future, which, notwithstanding this, 
 like the forebodings of the prophets before the 
 birth of Christ, becomes extended and strength- 
 ened among all nations. 
 
 Mr. Thomson listened, with evident amaze- 
 ment, to these remarks of his niece, which 
 evinced to him the clearness of his perceptions, 
 and he exclaimed, when she had finished : 
 
 " Admirable ! admirably said ! showing, in so 
 few words, the position of both the chief parties ! 
 It _corresponds with what I have read of you, 
 Seiiora ! I have acknowledged and admired your 
 penetration, after having read your Elegies." 
 
 " Thank you for the compliment Mr. Thom- 
 son," replied the lady, with a slight blush. 
 " Then you have read my Elegies, you say, dear 
 uncle .' (for I must accustom myself to call you 
 so.) Did Mr. Walker send you a copy of the 
 edition ? It is to be hoped, however, that you 
 learnt, for the first, from his letter to-day, that I 
 am the authoress !" 
 
 Robert awaited the answer with greater anxiety 
 than herself, and looked, with a controlling 
 glance, into the eyes of the old man, which evi- 
 dently embarrassed liim. 
 
 " Certainly ! certainly !" he began, while he 
 endeavored to compose himself; " Mr. Walker 
 sent me a copy of your Elegies, as a secret ; you 
 know he is very fond of secrets ; he has a pas- 
 sion for mystery, and what he confides to me, 
 
 that " 
 
 " My God !" cried Robert ; " he has not, 
 surely, written to you, from Buenos Ayres, that 
 Sra. Dolores was the authoress, when he sent 
 you the copy .'" 
 
 " To be sure !" replied Mr. Thomi'on ; " and if 
 even — if he even did so, I know as well how to 
 
 keep a secret as -" 
 
 Dolores looked at Robert with an expression 
 that significantly said to his comprehension, " I 
 am lost." 
 
 " Compose yourself, Dolores !" said the youth, 
 with inward excitement ; " tranquillize yourself; 
 my uncle has certainly given no one a hint which 
 
 can " 
 
 " Far from it !" cried the old widower ; "what 
 is the matter with you ? and, even if I had, you 
 are now in Rio dc Janeiro, and under my protec- 
 tion, and — and — as concerns myself, I shall, in 
 time, find out ways and means for your personal 
 safety, and to prepare you a comfort which no 
 
 lady would lightly " 
 
 Robert appeared so much shocked by the 
 thought, that the two old men might, from want 
 of judgement, have committed an indiscretion, 
 that he found it advisable suddenly to break 
 away from the subject, the explanation of which 
 might awaken still more ground of discomposure. 
 " We are then agreed among ourselves," said 
 he, hastily, " that Miss Susan is not to know at 
 all who you are. We will mention another 
 family name, since we shall confide to her that 
 I have carried you off, and before the world you 
 will pass for my sister." 
 
 " So he it, then !" assented Mr. Thomson, as if 
 nothing had been said about the copy of Elegies ; 
 " so be it, then ; Robert's plan is indeed the best, 
 and I will immediately look out for a pleasant 
 country house for him. Wait now ! I just hap- 
 pen to think of a pavilion — on da Gloria — a won- 
 derful prospect. I occupied the pavilion myself
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 169 
 
 some years ago, when I came heve alone, aa.a 
 lonely widower. We will make a circuit, and 
 drive to Sr. Moreto's in the Rua dos Ourive3. 
 He will still be in his loja,* and, if possible, you 
 can go there to-morrow. You can stay to night 
 at the Hotel Faroux ; for we must be consistent ! 
 You ought not to remain in the same house with 
 your betrothed, not a single night !" 
 
 " To be sure not !" said Robert, laughing ; "al- 
 though Aunt Susan keeps the house, the world 
 might be overthrown ! I mean the social world, 
 with its anxiety, and its distrust, and its philan- 
 thropic c;ire for the upholding of morals." The 
 noble youth reddened as he was led to a topic 
 which caused him to reflect upon the mean foun- 
 dation of such measures. 
 
 " The pavilion up there," interrupted his un- 
 cle, and pointed in tiie distance, " that's the 
 one I mean. I lived there once. The hill there, 
 with the white church, amongst the dark foli- 
 age — that is the church of Nossa Senhora da 
 Gloria — and the whole surrounding parish is 
 called so !" 
 
 Dolores followed Robert's glance in that di- 
 rection, and an idyllian landscape unfolded itself 
 to their view, such as can nowliere be found, 
 but in the bay of Rio. A considerable hill, or 
 mountain, which, being a peninsula, was nearly 
 surrounded by the mirrorlike waters, and was 
 built over with tasteful country houses in va- 
 rious styles, interspersed with lively green de- 
 clivitous meadows and fields, with gigantic for- 
 ests and low thickets, projected from the misty 
 back ground of the stupendous Corcovado, 
 whose summit, already enveloped in darkness, 
 as seen from this side, appeared like an obelisk 
 on the ape.x of a pyramid. 
 
 " Ah how lovely ! how charming !" sighed 
 Dolores; how happy might men be in such a 
 paradise !" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, .Senora ! yes, indeed !" replied 
 Mr. Thomson, with a covetous glance at the 
 "tendency" of the young lady of La Plata; 
 " Yes, indeed, Senora ! man can be happy here — 
 very comfortably happy, in the domestic rela- 
 tions — that is my opinion." 
 
 " Is that the mountain there, that we wisli to 
 purchase ?" asked Robert, contemplating another 
 portion of the extensive and wonderful picture 
 whose realities surrounded them. 
 
 " We ! that is to say the English, have made 
 proposals to purchase the Signal Mountain — that 
 is it, there — with the old church of St. Sebas- 
 tian ; but the present government has hitherto 
 refused, and will not give it up." 
 
 " And the whole mountain is to be levelled .'" 
 
 " Yes, it is to be taken down and levelled, and 
 the surface is to be built up as a city, as British 
 property. Do you understand that, Robert ! And 
 then we shall have a firm footing here — and the 
 rest will soon ibllow !" 
 
 " The hill appears about three hundred feet 
 high " 
 
 " And may be one and a half English miles in 
 circumference, perhaps two, and lies, as you 
 see, in the midst of the town, on the shores of 
 the bay; it would be an admirable acquisition, 
 an English city in the midst of the capital of 
 Brazil ! We should then have the key to the 
 wealth of all Brazil in our pocket, Robert ! 
 What do you say of that !" 
 
 ■Shop. 
 
 " I think that the Brazilians will hardly sell 
 us the mountair,." 
 
 " Why ! because they suspect that there are 
 gold mines in it** 
 "Even without gold mines in it. They would not 
 admit a British jurisdiction within their own." 
 
 " They mtist, Robert ! they will have to, at 
 length ! We have already advanced them suffi- 
 cient for such a purchase, and when it once 
 comes to the crisis, and vve require our millions 
 back again, and when the empire becomes bank- 
 rupt, then — then, Robert, do you see our fri- 
 gates, and corvettes, and ships of the line ! They 
 will lie there ! and we shall know, then, how far 
 our cannon will reach ; and the mountain there, 
 the mountain is ours, with or without gold 
 mines !" 
 
 The shallop glided past the station of the 
 foreign fleet, which guards the Brazilian empire 
 lest the Botocudos should steal it. Again an 
 imposing view was presented to the strangers, 
 in the background of which was seen the point- 
 ed Organ Mountain, with its lofty pipes, like a 
 misty dark blue shadow, contrasting with the 
 transparent horizon. 
 
 "Is not that the Danish flag?" inquired Do- 
 lores, pointing to a small brig from St. Thomas, 
 which lay unpretendingly at anchor near a ma- 
 jestic United States corvette, as if it had been 
 sent into the world out of irony, in testimony 
 that Britain had forgotten at least one man-of- 
 war, when she stole the Danish fleet, as a tliief 
 would a handkerchief out of a farmer's pocket. 
 
 "The Danish flag, Senora .' yes, indeed, at 
 your service ! It is the Danish flag, a small brig 
 that has made an excursion on the Atlantic 
 Ocean," replied Mr. Thomson, involuntarily, a 
 little embarrassed, as a very natural connexion 
 of ideas, made him suspect that the political poet- 
 ess from La Plata river had not mentioned the 
 Danish flag without an allusion to the British 
 speculation of the Si>;nal Mountain. 
 
 " Yes, it is the British flag!" addod Robert 
 with a sigh, and an expression of bitterness. 
 "It is the flag of piracy. But, remark well,'' 
 continued he, with a scorning siulk, " remark 
 well ; it is the ' royal flag. It is tier Majesty's 
 A'avfl, as they call it; not the ' nationaV navy. 
 We have nothinj; but our — Nationat, tiblts " 
 
 Shot after shot just then resounded from the 
 neighboring fortress Do- Vilcalhon, and from the 
 brazen mouths of the European and transatlan- 
 tic fleet — for the sun, long since disappeared be- 
 hind the mountain summits, had touched the 
 nautical horizon of the longitude of Guenabara. 
 
 All around was again silent, and the oars of 
 passing barks and gondolas dipped in the whis- 
 pering waves. Long boats of tiie navies ot 
 foreign nations, with stately oflicers in their 
 sterns, floated by, returning from the landing- 
 place at the Hotel Faroux, which the shallop 
 now approached. With asorely oppressed heart, 
 Dolores looked into the gloomy night of her 
 cloud-covered future. 
 
 " There is our carriage !" cried Mr. Thomson, 
 pointing out a stately vehicle, with negroes in 
 livery, as coachman and footman. He offered 
 his hand to the exile, who had already taken 
 Robert's arm, to the smothered vexation of the 
 old widower, who now ordered the coachman to 
 drive through the Rua dos Ourives, and stop at 
 Senhor Moreto's shop.
 
 ICO 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ARHIVAL. 
 
 [t wns an hour after sunHown when the five 
 ^■lerk3 and inercantile voluntoers of the house ol 
 RossbriicU &. Co., in tlie Rua da Alfandej^'a sal 
 at table, in the lar2;e dining room, on the first 
 floor, and ch-ank their tea socially together, ac- 
 coi'ding to the custom of European houses ol 
 business in Rio Janeiro, They were all amia- 
 ble young men, from difiercnt countries in En- 
 rope, of unexceptionable familiea, and exem- 
 plary deportment. They were talking and jokinj; 
 in the best humor, and two neijroea sprang round 
 the long table, (which allbrded room fur thrice 
 the number of guests,) "id served the young 
 seiihors with Ethiopian attention and readiness. 
 There was a knocking at the house door, as ii' a 
 rhinoceros thumped against it. 
 
 " Who is making such a noise down there.'" 
 cried Mr. Doubly, a young Swiss, who occupied 
 the seat at the head of the table. 
 
 One of the negroes instantly ran down stairs, 
 and, after some moments, a gentleman appeared 
 in a travelling dress, attended by a negre de 
 gagne,* who carried his cai'pet bag, with his 
 umbrella and hat box. 
 
 The gentleman had, unfortunately, found no 
 English knocker on the door, with which to 
 cause, according to English custom, a dozen 
 hasty taps of respectibility to resound in quad- 
 ruple time. He had, however, with surprising 
 presence of mind, known how to help himself, 
 by making, with the handle of his umbrella, the 
 above " loud raps of respectibility,*' in the fash- 
 ionabl_e quadruple time, as his respectability 
 required. 
 
 " Is not Mr. Francis Rossbriick at home ?" 
 inquired the gentleman, in broken English, step- 
 ping up to the table, with a disdaintul glance at 
 the youthful company. 
 
 " No '." answered Mr. Doubly. " What do 
 you wish ?" 
 
 " Are none of te partners at home .'" inquired 
 the other, drawing on his patent gloves more 
 tightly, and pressing them down between the 
 fingers. 
 
 " No !" was again the reply, anu all eyes rested 
 upon the gentleman in a Mackintosh overcoat, 
 which was, at that time, the height of fashion, 
 but extremhly warm for the gentleman, since he 
 happened to be in Brazil. 
 
 " I am Mr. William Rossbriick, and intent to 
 stop here!" said the latter, observing from head 
 to foot the young people, in their white jackets 
 and coats, who must, of course, all be clerks, as 
 no partner of the house made himself known 
 among them. 
 
 " Abd el Kader !" cried Mr. Doubly, " put 
 the room up there in order for this senhor !" 
 The negro, Marco, who bore this nickname in 
 the house, hastened to fulfil the order, and car- 
 ried the car|iet bag of the Senhor Branco into 
 the designated apartment. 
 
 " Take a seat, if you please," said Mr. Doubly, 
 now, in German, to the gentleman. " May I oiler 
 you a cup of tea, and what we have for supper .'" 
 
 The gentleman partner of the house felt him- 
 self almost offended by such a solicitation, to 
 
 • JTegre de gdf"' — Slaves who serve as porters oa 
 tlicir maatur^s account. 
 
 seat himself at the same table with the clerks, 
 and even to drink tea with them, an idea of the 
 young man in the white spencer, which, accor- 
 ding to the views of the gentleman, did not tend 
 to the honor of his civilization. 
 
 " 1 tank you !" he muttered, turning his back 
 on the com.pany, and vi'.ilked slowly and stiffly, 
 into the room where the negro had carried his 
 carpet bag. 
 
 The young people looked after him, and then 
 at each other, bit their lips to suppress a burst 
 of laughter, and took up a thread of the inler- 
 rupted conversation, as if no one had disturbed 
 them. 
 
 The negre de gagne waited for his couple of 
 vingtaines,* for porterage, and at length ventured 
 to remind them of it. 
 
 " We will take it upon ourselves," whispered 
 Mr. Doubly to his companions, " and give the 
 guest credit for a patack ;"t and then paid the 
 negro, who thanked him, and likewise departed. 
 
 The supper was ended, and each went into 
 his cabinet, after having first agreed which of 
 them should have the watch for the two follow- 
 ing days — a holiday and a Sund.iv ; as, accord- 
 ing to old custom, one of them must take care of 
 the house on such days. The watch for the next 
 day was Mr. Doubly's, who, besides, wished to 
 stay at home, and occupy himself with music 
 and reading, 
 
 " A young little goose flew over the Rhine 
 AuJ Citine home a gantler, fashionably line ! 
 Trala I trala 1 trala 1" 
 
 sang a young man, with a clear toned voice, 
 while he prepared, in his room, for a promen- 
 atle in the cool of the evening. 
 
 " Anil how they holj a fork to eat, 
 
 And how they walk along the street. 
 
 Long since he learned to imitate 1" 
 
 joined in Mr. Doubly, just as loudly, and, 
 seizing his guitar, he preluded, and sang, and ac- 
 companied, c(/n anwrCj as if he had been alone 
 in the house. 
 
 While this was going on in the Rua da Alfan- 
 dega, the carriage of the real gentleman from 
 Bota Fogo, had nearly made its half way home 
 from the place from where it started, or at least 
 had rolled through the Rua dos Ourives, where 
 it stopjied, in front of the loja before mentioned. 
 A little, fat, pockmarked descendant of Vasco de 
 Gamo ran out to the carriage door, and greeted 
 his old acquaintance, Mr. George Thomson. 
 
 The latter had, by this time, reflected, that it 
 would be best for him, in pursuance of his par- 
 ticular plan, to quarter the young betrothed as 
 far as it was any way possible from his country 
 house in Bota Fogo, and he form.ed the deter- 
 mination to hire for him the villa, whose situa- 
 tion was as charming as respectable, which lat- 
 ter was naturally the first thing taken into con- 
 sideration. 
 
 It turned out, that one of Sr. Moreto's two pa- 
 vilions on " da Gloria" was to rent, and the 
 very same one which Mr. Thomson had inhab- 
 ited after the death of his third corpulency. 
 
 " And who lives in the other pavilion .'" in- 
 quired Mr. Thomson, in all haste. 
 
 " A young lady of my family, at your service, 
 Sr. George, a widow, from St. Joao del Rey, a 
 very respectable person, whose neighborhood 
 cannot be disagreeable to you, in any respect. 
 
 * Copper coin, of -20 reis. f About 30 cents.
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 161 
 
 She is here attending upon a lawsuit in Rio, 
 and lives incognito — altogether incognito ; and if 
 it were not you, Mr. George, I %vould not let the 
 pavilion near her ; but, upon my responsibility, 
 the young lady will gladly admit the neighbor- 
 hood of a gentleman of your house. She is a 
 very accomplished young lady, and I will answer 
 for her respectability; you have long known me 
 in that respect, Sr. George; my assurance has its 
 weight with you !" 
 
 " Certainly !" cried the old widower from the 
 carriage, " certainly ! I would take your word 
 for a hundred contos ! All in order ! Then to- 
 morrow forenoon my nephew can go there ?" 
 
 " As early as he pleases ; nevertiieless, it 
 would be very well, if your nephew would take 
 the trouble to call on my relation, since I have 
 promised not to let the pavilion to any one, 
 without her consent, and I like to keep my 
 word, you know that, Sr. George. It is merely 
 a formality, for I know, beforehand, that a con- 
 nexion of your house, whom I recommend, will 
 be welcome to my niece ; it is merely a formality, 
 and I will send some one to-night, to apprize 
 her of the visit of your nephew." 
 
 " I will not fail to ride out there early to-mor- 
 row," replied Robert. 
 
 Mr. Thompson now inquired, in all haste, the 
 month's rent, (with which he was already ac- 
 quainted,) and Sr. Moreto stepped back from the 
 coach door, and the carriage rolled on, with fly- 
 ing Brazilian speed, through the Rua d'Ajuda, 
 out to the Praya do Flamingo, and on to Bota 
 Fogo. 
 
 The shallop of Captain Finngreen had landed 
 at the great stairs, which, farther up in the city, 
 opposite the ilhos das Cobras,* was surrounded, 
 early and late, by captain's boats and negro ca- 
 noes, and served as a connecting point between 
 the city and the merchant vessels. 
 
 Mr. Rossbrijck had stepped out, and, under 
 the guidance of a cicerone, proceeded towards the 
 neighboring Rua da Alfandega, without taking 
 leave of the other passengers, as that was not 
 written in his catechism of British fashion, in 
 which (as we have already remarked) he had 
 made great progress. 
 
 Captain Finngreen hastened to report himself 
 at the bureau of the house, with whose head he 
 had already spoken, and was then, according to 
 agreement, to meet his passengers, Hinango, Ho- 
 ratio, and Alvarez, in the Hotel du Nord, in 
 the Rua Direita, whither the Scandinavian con- 
 ducted the two latter. 
 
 " I will see if Fitz is at home, and bring him 
 here !" said Dr. Thorfin to Hinango, as the three 
 strangers we.-e going up the steps, to take toge- 
 ther a salon with adjoining chambers. 
 
 " Well, do so, if you will take the trouble. 
 Then we will all take supper here," returned 
 Hinango; "but come back soon, for we have 
 much to talk about," 
 
 " I will go likewise to-.i'Vernon, and tell him 
 that you are here," added the doctor, and hur- 
 ried off, accompanied by the gratitude of the 
 stranger for his kindness. 
 
 In a roomy atelier for astronomical and nauti- 
 cal instruments, sat a little man, with all sorts of 
 expression on his weather browned face, unusu- 
 ally late at his work table, and filed, and pol- 
 ished, and sang, with a barbarous voice, 
 
 * Serpeat Island 
 
 " No general hag such powerful might, 
 With all his hosts entire, 
 As a handsome woman, day or night. 
 In negligent attire ! 
 In neg li gent — attire !" 
 
 It was Mr. Henry Fitz — " Chief Intendant of 
 the Imperial Physical Cabinet at St. Christova, 
 and Unpatented Air Pump Controller to their 
 Imperial Highnesses, the Princesses," as he 
 called himself, without, however, receiving any 
 stipulated salary from the court. 
 
 Two haggard, meagre Mamaluco boys, whose 
 bones were scantily cushioned over with dingy 
 carne secco,* likewise pursued their labors, filing 
 and turning on screws and rollers for an impe- 
 rial Brazilian electrical machine, which stood 
 there unfinished, on a broad pedestal, in the 
 midst of the saloon. '' 
 
 Some one approached the corridor on the out- 
 side, and Tycho Brahe (as Mr. Fitz called one of 
 the nearly transparent Mamalucoes) opened the 
 door. 
 
 Franco, a negro from the numerous colored 
 attendants of the Hotel Faroux, entered and in- 
 quired for Sr. Fitz, to whom he handed a card, 
 and added, a Sr. Ingles wished to know where 
 Sr. Closting lived, and, if possible, to see him, 
 early in the morning. 
 
 Then the Sr. Ingles will have far to ride 
 this night, replied Mr. Fitz, in his customary 
 jesting mood. " Sr. Closting lives, to be sure, 
 somewhere in the city, when he is here ; but, so 
 far as 1 know, he iifyet some hundred leagues ofT, 
 Mattogrosso, or Goyaz, or Minas Geraes, or 
 somewhere else where there are mountains, and 
 can hardly be seized early in the morning." 
 
 " If Sr. Closting was not in town, then the Sr. 
 Ingles said, I should beg you to tell me who 
 conducted his business here, and I was then to 
 take the card there." 
 
 " Who has the difficult employment of con- 
 ducting Mr. Closting's business here, I can tell 
 you. Wait ! I will write down the address for 
 you." He made the required note on the bacK 
 of the card, and added : " Ask for Sr. Forro, No. 
 164 Rua de Sabao ; if he is not at home, he will 
 certainly be somewhere else !" 
 
 The negro thanked him for the direction, and 
 hurried down stair.s. 
 
 " No general has such powerful might " 
 
 recommenced Mr. Fitz, when he was again dis- 
 turbed by some one clapping his hands before the 
 door, the customary Brazilian token of announce- 
 ment, which takes the place of the European 
 knocking on the door. Tycho Brahe hurried to 
 open it again, and Dr. Thorfin appeared on the 
 threshold. 
 
 " Make yourself ready, and come with me to 
 the Hotel du Nord !" cried he, at the door; " an 
 old friend has arrived." 
 " Not Hinango.'" inquired the astronomer. 
 " How did you happen to think of him .'" 
 " I am sure I don't know myself; but I am 
 sure it is he, and no one else." 
 
 " You have guessed rightly ; now come with 
 me." 
 
 " Step in, and sit down till I get ready. Where 
 did the dev'lish fellow come from, that he is here 
 again .'" 
 
 " From the coast of Africa, by way of St. He- 
 lena and Monte Video." 
 
 ^ Dried meat.
 
 163 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " With his Iduna ?" 
 
 *' Oh no! as a passenger ; he has lost his Iduna." 
 
 " Lost I I will not think it ! Where, and 
 how ?" 
 
 " Come with me to the Hotel du Nord. By 
 and by he will tell you how he came here." 
 
 ** From St. Helena, as passenger, by the wav of 
 Monte Video ? and wants, perhaps, to purchase 
 a ship here ?" 
 
 " And instruments of you," added Mr. Thorfin. 
 
 " I know of a schooner brig for him, she is 
 called the Vesta, a lovely little thing ! a thing I 
 tell you, that sails like vengeance, and is built 
 and designed entirely for a privateer." He had 
 partly put away his tools, and now took his hat, 
 and \ett to his tA-o Mamalucoes the atelier, and 
 their carne secco for supper. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin and the astronomer took their way 
 to the Hotel du Nord, and found Captain Finn- 
 green with the new comers. A mutual, hearty 
 greeting ensued, as the latter also was acquaint- 
 ed with the " sextant mender, " as he called 
 bim. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ABTSS, IN THE INTERIOR OF 'Ae SOCIAL WORU), 
 
 The conversation of the friends and acquaint- 
 ances at supper, in the Hotel du Nord, touched 
 upon many common reminiscences, and Hinango 
 inquired after one and another with whom he 
 had formerly held intercourse. 
 
 " Dr. D and Signer F have lost their 
 
 wives," said Mr. Fitz to him. 
 
 " Both .'" inquired Hinango. " Was it with 
 some infectious fever .'" 
 
 " 1 don't know whether it was infectious, but 
 there seemed to have been a hot fever before- 
 hand, at least in the mind. Both have abscond- 
 ed — have abducted men " 
 
 "What? How.' You would say they have both 
 been abducted." 
 
 " No, I will not say that, for I am free to doubt 
 whether a woman ever yet was abducted. 1 ven- 
 ture to affirm, that the woman carries otf her 
 lover — that no woman ever allows herself to be 
 carried off — never ! No steam engine of sixty 
 horse povper can tear a woman away from her 
 husband, unless she breaks loose herself." 
 
 " You always make original assertions, and I 
 like you for it, when you are able to maintain 
 them," remai-ked'Hinango. 
 
 " In the present case, we must both allow our- 
 selves to be run away with, that I may support 
 my assertion," replied Fitz ; " but 1 will add this 
 much : you will never run away with any woman, 
 if you remain true to your early principles, so 
 far as I know them." 
 
 Hinango smiled, and assured him that the 
 latter was the case. 
 
 " Still less will any woman run away with 
 you," continued Fitz, " or she must have a very 
 peculiar taste. You are far too sentimental, and 
 too little agreeable to the female sex ; at least, 
 to the married women." 
 
 " I thank you heartily for that. To be verj' 
 
 agreeable to married women iS) in my opinion, 
 the greatest misfortune that could befall a 
 man." 
 
 " Certainly, according to your views ; I know 
 your * platonic system,' and that is just what the 
 women do not like." 
 
 " But to return to our two friends : is it jest or 
 earnest .'" 
 
 " It is earnest," joined in Dr. Thorfin ; " un- 
 happily earnest ! Both have made the sorrow- 
 ful discovery, that maiTiage without love was a 
 very weak bond." 
 
 " Apropos ! Doctor !" cried the air pump 
 controller, " a gentleman has just been making 
 inquiries after Mr. Closting. I sent him to Sen- 
 hor Forro — for it was a business affair, I suspect. 
 Have you heard, through his wife, when he re- 
 turns .'" 
 
 " Madame Closting has gone away," replied 
 the physician. 
 
 " Gone away .'" interrupted the other ; "what, 
 for ever .' Gone away from Rio .' Perhaps to 
 meet her husband .'" 
 
 " Where, I do not know ; and if for ever, 
 that also I do not know. It would, in many re- 
 spects, be most advisable, if she would absent 
 herself forever from her husband. It is hard to 
 be a physician for such evils, which have their 
 seat m the heart, and are to be cured in the 
 nerves." . 
 
 " You are a pretty doctor !" said Fitz; "you 
 use ' dissolving remedies' for conjugal relations. 
 
 Were you the phvsician of Senhora D , and 
 
 Senhora F .'"' 
 
 " If I had been the physician of these two 
 ladies, I should, at least, have known no means 
 to restore or to establish sympathy of soul when 
 there was none. According to my view, the sa- 
 crament of marriage does not consist in the out- 
 ward ceremony, (which any one can pass through 
 for money,) but in love. 
 
 "It is not the sacrament which binds, but love. 
 The profanation of every sacrament, is a prosti- 
 tution of the Most Holy as he profanes the sa- 
 crament of the Lord's Supper %vho approaches 
 the table of the Lord, witliout being penetrated 
 by the spirit of the doctrine of Jesus. 
 
 " The sacrament of marriage has grown old," 
 observed Mr. Fitz ; "and when Brazil was Por- 
 tuguese, one had first to write to Lisbon,* and 
 it was often putrified and corrupt before it 
 arrived here. It is rotten ; it is about fifteen 
 hundred years old, if I am not mistaken, and 
 dates from the Emperor Constantine. And what 
 the church puts together, no longer holds so 
 firmly ! The glue is good for nothing ! It is 
 manufactured in great quantities for sale, of poor 
 ingredients, and if it sticks until the first bap- 
 tism is paid for, it is very well ! Let us rejoice 
 that we have not Brazilians for our wives — who 
 would turn their backs on us." 
 
 " As regards that," returned the doctor, " I 
 am of another opinion. I know Brazilian women 
 who may be cited as patterns — both as wives and 
 mothers — and am satisfied that the women of 
 Brazil stand as high, as women, as those of any 
 other nation, when they fiind a return of the love 
 which they feel." 
 
 " But, on the other hand, we must willingly 
 
 • In those timcx, whoever wished to be mnrried in 
 Brazil, tirst had to obtain penaission from the Asoa 
 liishop of Lisbon.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 163 
 
 odmit tliat here, as everywhere else, there arc 
 ■Women who cannot love," observed Hinango. 
 . " How so ? cannot love ?" interrupted Mr. 
 Fitz ; " that Would be curious, a woman who 
 Could not love !" 
 
 " It depends on what we call love," replied 
 Hinango. '* Love presvipjioses heart, a develop- 
 ment of sonl, inward life, sentiment; and by 
 many women the understanding is cultivated at 
 the espense of the sentiment. The heart is lost. 
 The soul is oppressed by female pretensions. 
 Such women believe that they love, and do not ; 
 and no bond of church or state wilt bind them, 
 for their hearts never have bound them ; they 
 are the most dangerous beings in creation. Such 
 beings should never marry, for they abuse and 
 desecrate the sacrament of marriage, which pre- 
 sumes love. They would like to give away a 
 heart, and have none. Tliey do not look for a 
 man of honor and character, but for a 'husband !' 
 to satisfy their manifold wants. Their element 
 is sensuality, and their being changeableness, 
 passion for diversion, with a constant desire to 
 fill the inv;ard void, without a heart. Their 
 whole life is a destructive caprice — with varia- 
 tions vn negligee. They are the women of 
 marriage a la mode, and their number is legion. 
 They are the poisonous plants of humanity, 
 ■whose effects destroy human life, and pass des- 
 tructively over to the next generation. They 
 represent the privilege of marriage — as the clus- 
 ter of all demoralization." 
 
 " A terrible, but very, very true remark," said 
 Captain Finngreen ; " but there is also another 
 class of women, capable of all love, who are cir- 
 cumvented by men who never loved them, and 
 when the illusion vanishes, then such unfortu- 
 nate women are to be pitied." 
 
 " Very true, captain," rejoined Dr. Thorfin. 
 " Such women long all the more after love, from 
 having been circumvented, when it becomes 
 clear to them that they have never been blessed 
 by reciprocated love. The claims of the heart — 
 the most sacred demands of nature — assert their 
 rights ; but then it is too late, and those nervous 
 diseases come on, against which the phj'sician 
 only knows palliative remedies, and which are 
 not to be cured so long as the cause cannot 
 be removed which produces the disorder : the 
 unnatural connexion of marriage without love !" 
 
 " And this cause is generally not to be re- 
 moved," added the captain. 
 
 " And many women will not remove it," ob- 
 served Hinango. 
 
 " [ assure you, gentlemen," said Dr. Thorfin, 
 *' whoever looks deeply, as a psychologist, into 
 the cause from which such diseases proceed, 
 may well shrink back from the basis on which 
 the social world is founded. I am entirely of our 
 astronomer's opinion, and affirm that there are 
 few, if any, wives who are abducted, but they 
 run away with those whom they have captivated. 
 And [ go still further, and assert — maidens are 
 seduced, married women seduce. I offer, as a 
 psychologist, to sustain this position, and to 
 prove it by facts." 
 
 " I do not doubt it ; but I trust you will not 
 Rssert that these unfortunate women seduce in- 
 tentionally ?" said Hinango. 
 
 " Women of a noble character seduce cer- 
 tJiinly not intentionally," replied the doctor. 
 "By no means; on the contrary, they are, for 
 
 the most part, overcome by the unconquerable 
 force of an inv.'ard motive, the longing after 
 love. It is the consciousness of an awakened 
 inner life, whose organ is the nervous system, 
 and this becomes so much the more susceptible, 
 the more it is oppressed by disturbing influences." 
 
 "I understand you," remarked Hinango, " since 
 I recognise the differences of individuality in 
 spiritual life, and in materialism — the two poles 
 of earthly existence. Nothing operates more 
 destructively upon the nerves than *he forced 
 suppression of repulsion — physic 1 surrender 
 with antipathy of soul." 
 
 " Very naturally," affirmed Thorfin ; " and 
 who can wonder, in the least, that these diseases 
 are daily gaining ground, in an epoch in which 
 marriage is m.ide a ' business,' and in France is 
 even arranged by specially established houses of 
 business, by means of travelling clerks, and is 
 considered, in the whole social world, as an ob- 
 ject of speculation and convenience, or as a grati- 
 fication of sensuality .' Who can wonder at the 
 deterioration of the human race, at the religious 
 and moral indifference of our century, if we 
 cast a glance at the desecrated and plundered 
 sanctuary of generation ? From a union formed 
 with resignation of love, in levity and indiffer- 
 ence, no generation can proceed such as God 
 made man, ' in his own image.' I do not won- 
 der at the deterioration of the human race," con- 
 tinued the physician, " but rather that mankind 
 has not sunk deeper under such desecration I 
 There must be an indestructible-divine strength 
 in humanity, which will not suffer itself to be 
 laid waste and destroyed, notwithstanding all 
 the degradation of woman in the service of man 
 without love !" 
 
 " I grant that married women seduce," said 
 Hinango, " and are not seduced, but the founda- 
 tion must be this inward disturbance, which 
 manifests itself in the nervous system through 
 repulsion. The love of such a being is a de- 
 structive deity, which requires human sacri- 
 fices ; it destroys the inner life, and wo to the 
 man, or the youth, who is selected as the victim 
 in such a case I" 
 
 " He is lost, without redemption !" said Dr. 
 Thorfin ; " for even when he would play the part 
 of Joseph, the embittered vengeance of injured 
 womanhood would seek to destroy him ! A re- 
 jected woman is capable of any murder." 
 
 "An English author says, in other words : 
 
 • Earth knows no curse like love to hatred turned, 
 Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,' " 
 
 observed Mr. Fitz, smiling. 
 
 " Hell has no fury like a woman scorned ?" 
 repeated Hinango, with a deep sigh. " The 
 word ' scorned,' however, seems to me very 
 badly chosen, for I can imagine to myself one 
 case, in which a man would withdraw from a 
 woman at such an eventful moment, and that, not 
 by any means because he despised or ' scorned ' 
 her, but because he loved lier, and out of love 
 shrank back before her future — spared her 
 weakness. Such a case may certainly belong to 
 the rarities of our age ; but I know that it may 
 occur. The consequences, however, remain 
 ever the same, and the saying of the English 
 poet remains in force." 
 
 ** As concerns Joseph," said the air pump con- 
 troller, " I do not rely much upon that affair.
 
 164 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 I very mnch doubt whether the Egyptian chroni- 
 clers had hidden a stenographer in the apartment 
 of Potiphar's wife ! So far as I am acquainted 
 with woman, in all zones, Joseph would hardly 
 have become minister, if he had nm away, like 
 a youn? Scandinavian poet in Avignon, who left 
 a Spanish lady, in the deepest negligee, in the 
 liireh, as we have read of somewhere. As bit- 
 terly as this lady aftenvards threatened him with 
 a dagger, would Madame Potiphar have known 
 how to revenge herself, also, in some way or 
 another. There is no power so ragingly de- 
 structive as the bitter hatred of a woman in such 
 unfortunate cases, for she is not mistress of her- 
 self." 
 
 " You seem to have had practical experience 
 in these matters," remarked Hinango. 
 
 " My dear friend, I lived ten years in Paris, 
 from my five and twentieth year until five and 
 thirty, and as I had become acquainted with my 
 ground by heai-say, I endeavored, at least, to 
 come out of it with my life, and made all sorts of 
 marginal notes upon the test of the saspicious 
 history of Joseph." 
 
 The friends laughed, except Hinango, whose 
 seriousness could not understand a joke where 
 the most sacred concerns of humanity were 
 treated of. 
 
 " And as regards my experience," resnmed 
 Dr. Thorfin, " I obtained it during eight years 
 cf observation, as so called ladies' physician, in 
 Odessa and Moscow. 1 sought, in the study of 
 psychology, the basis of all healing knowledge, 
 and aiTived at the conviction, that in thousands 
 of instances all medical ti-eatment remains inef- 
 fectual, inasmuch as so many circumstances evi- 
 dently contradict the unconditional requisites 
 which the physician must prescribe. I saw my 
 Hygeia in despair at the statutes of govern- 
 ment. I stood by many biers, which held the 
 victims of a powerfully suppressed repulsion ; 
 and lived to see suicide after suicide, of noble 
 beings of both sexe.«, who were carried away by 
 despair, when they learned, too late, that mar- 
 riage without love is a crime that draws after it 
 a hell, from which there is no redemption, but 
 through the gate of death." 
 
 " Horrible!" sighed Hinango; "bnt in a thou- 
 sand cases to one, the woman is innocent ; or, 
 at least, only guilty in having once given away, 
 without love, what she can never get lack 
 again." 
 
 " I will give you a systematic survey of the 
 loveless apathy of women," began Dr. Thorfin, 
 after a long pause, " and you may then the sooner 
 arrive at clearness, in respect to many appear- 
 ances of the reality about us here. 
 
 " We behold three other cases of marriage 
 without love, (except the numerous class of wo- 
 men in marriage a la mode,) which are repeated 
 a thousand times each. 
 
 " In the first case, we find the spiritual, noble 
 woman the victim of circumstances, of self-de- 
 ceit, or of treachery on the part of the man. She 
 watches over fulfilment of conjugal duties with 
 lively diligence, labors on from one multiplica- 
 tion to another, and, from calls of business, has 
 no time to reflect upon her lot nor to feel her ani- 
 matic' life. She receives what is offered her of 
 the pleasures of life, and often aflbrds her hus 
 
 • Animatic, from aiums— aoul. 
 
 band more than he requires, in the delusion that 
 she is loving and beloved. In this manner, year* 
 pass away, and a single circumstance, a single 
 movement, an accident, or destiny, suddenly 
 rends the veil of illusion. The consciousness of 
 the loveless reality crosses her mind ; she be- 
 comes aware that the partner of her life has ne- 
 ver loved her, that his heart has been no sanc- 
 tuary of her love, that he neither understands 
 her heart nor had been acquainted with her 
 spirit, that be only loves him.self in the posses- 
 sion of her charms; and, her heart is broken, 
 her earthly happiness has fled ! She awakes 
 from a sensual illusion, and feels that she, also, 
 does not love. Disturbance of the nervous sys- 
 tem ensues, partly in cun«eqoence of physical 
 causes, bat mostly the efl'ect of the repulsion, 
 which this discovery brings with it. The luxu- 
 riant bloom of strength and beauty fades, like an 
 aromatic tlower in the poisonous night dews, 
 and the 9«f1ei*ing condition ensues for which the 
 physician knows no other remedy than exactly 
 that one',J[he want of which has brought on the 
 disease — love — sympathy of soul. And granting 
 that the woman has found love, their deliverance, 
 through love, is forbidden by all tl)e Laws of 
 church and state. 
 
 " In the second case, we behold the woman in 
 a subordinate development of the spiritual life, 
 with less depth of feeling, giving herself up to 
 her vocation with the same passion, the fulfil- 
 ment of wliich enervates her, and affords her 
 the chai-m of life which satisfies her. Physical 
 strength and abundance fnrce the spiritual life 
 more and more back upon itself, and by degrees 
 it succumbs to the influence of material gratifi- 
 c-.ition. She wants no love, because the sus- 
 ceptibility for love is partly extinct in her, and 
 because she considers that to be love which is 
 no love. Whether she deceives herself, or is 
 deceived, she lives on in illusion, and the mate- 
 rial side of Ul'e affords ' her domestic happiness.' 
 Her element is indifference. She is a so called 
 exemplary wife, who knows no temptation, and 
 whose virtue, of course, does not stand very 
 high. 
 
 " In the third case, we see the wosnan as an in- 
 tellectual being, of clear understanding and en- 
 nobled heart, a victim of circumstances, with a 
 renunciation of love, sold like a slave to a man 
 who is unworthy of her. Sophisms of the un- 
 derstanding led her to the resignation of love. 
 She seeks to overcome her decided repulsion to 
 her companion by the philosophy of life ; and 
 only lives for her ' duties.' She resigns herself to 
 the guidance of Hymen, and through his in- 
 structions the fulfilment of her so tailed duties 
 becomes gradually endurable, and at length aa 
 agreeable habit. But she lives in eternal contra- 
 diction with herself, and the inevitable disturb- 
 ance of the nervous system soon ensues ; that 
 physical infirmity which is the reaction of the 
 constraint upon her inner life ; and her physical 
 convulsions are the effects of her mental strug- 
 gles. She feels herself fastened for ever to a man 
 whom she can * neither love nor respect,' while it 
 ibecomcs clear to her thai he is universally des- 
 pised for his selfish meanness; that he has ne- 
 ver recognised in her either mind or heart, but 
 only sought a woman for the satisfaction of his 
 sensual desires. 
 
 " In respect to cbaracter,meQ do not judge each
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 165 
 
 other with such forbearance and considera- 
 tion, as the wife her husband, for * love makes 
 one blind, and marriage deaf and dumb ;' and 
 granting that the woman, in the above posi- 
 tion, had not been blind, because she did not 
 love, she would be deaf and dumb, as a wife ; 
 deaf, to all reports to the prejudice of her 
 husband, and dumb, as to all that she feels 
 against him. She believes it her duty to re- 
 spect, in her companion, the husband whom she 
 cannot love; she feigns towards him all reve-. 
 rence, in the presence of others, and seeks to 
 make a virtue of the low hypocrisy through 
 which the wife excuses, embellishes, and (in 
 case of need) defends all the faults and mean- 
 nesses of her husband, and, by degrees, even 
 approves of them. Jean Paul calls marriage 
 ' a double egotism,' but I maintain that mar- 
 riage, without love, protects all crimes. No 
 wife has ever yet given up her husband to jus- 
 tice, as a thief or counterfeiter. As no man is 
 so vile that he does not possess some concealed 
 so called ' good side,' the wife seeks to bring out 
 this good side of her husband, judges him en- 
 tirely according to it, and defends and smooths 
 over his vices and crimes ; compares him with 
 others, and finds preference upon preference ; 
 and an unaccountable self-deceit makes the 
 ' father of a family ' blameless, where the ' man ' 
 would be condemned for his meanne.ss. What 
 was hypocrisy, 'then becomes demoralization of 
 the heart' — the feeling is blunted wliich once rose 
 against baseness. As the wife in her hypocrisy 
 must despise herself for being a dissembler, so 
 she renounces, by degrees, the judgement of pub- 
 lic opinion, all that concerns the reputation of 
 her husband, whose * good qualities ' satisfy her. 
 " I can cite cases : one, in which the wife of a 
 functionary of high rank, branded by public 
 opinion as a rascal, a cheat, and a forger, even 
 declared, to a confidential friend, every word to 
 the prejudice of her husband, which had casually 
 come to her ears, to be calumny and lies, while 
 the same lady had long felt her love for him ex- 
 tinguished, and a strong repulsion had destroyed 
 her nervous system. I attended this unhappy 
 creature in hysterical convulsions, and recog- 
 nised the impossibility of physical deliverance 
 where moral rescue was impossible. So I at 
 length renounced my brilliant practice as ladies' 
 physician in Moscow, and went into the navy. 
 I engaged in researches upon the nature of wo- 
 men and upon their social position, and asked 
 myself: Can a lady who is really not wanting in 
 understanding and sagacity, after many years of 
 such intimate connexion, can she really not know 
 the character of her husband ? Can marriage 
 without love blunt the feelings and the power 
 of judgement ! Can even conjugal familiarity 
 weaken the intellectual capacities, as repulsion 
 disturbs the nervous system ? I sought to ex- 
 plain, psychologically, how it was possible that a 
 woman, in such a case, could steadily take up the 
 defence of her husband in a confidential inter- 
 view, and I beheld her sunk into the abyss of 
 demoralization, which was effected by the union 
 with a man of whose meanness and baseness slie 
 must partake. Why .' Because she is bound to 
 him by the laws of church and state .' O no ! 
 because he is her ' husband, the father of her chil- 
 dren,' whom she possesses, or wished to possess ; 
 because she had given herself to him, whether 
 
 in the conceit of love, or from resignation of 
 love. She is his wife, and his crimes are hers — 
 his baseness is hers. The purchased negro slave 
 can curse her owner, she can execrate him, in 
 her prayers to God, for deliverence from degrad- 
 ing slavery ; tlie wife, the lawful property of the 
 man of our civilized world, must bless her owner, 
 and intercede for him before the world, if she 
 cannot intercede for him with God ; she must 
 feign for him so called fidelity and respect be- 
 fore the world, although he lies in prison, as a 
 forger and cheat, or is taken to the scaffold, as a 
 criminal and a murderer. She has, long ago, 
 sacrificed herself to him ; and from the moment 
 when she denied him in her heart all respect, 
 and feigned for him all respect before the world, 
 she must also despise herself, in her demoraliza- 
 tion and in her hypocrisy." 
 
 A long pause ensued, while all, even the ironi- 
 cal, light-hearted Henry Fitz, appeared shocked 
 by the communication of the experienced phy- 
 sician. 
 
 " Love ennobles, marriage without love de- 
 stroys the heart!" at length remarked Hinango, 
 " but I hope, to the honor of women, that many 
 admit, to themselves, the baseness of their hus- 
 bands," 
 
 " And, of course, the hypocrisy is so much 
 greater," interrupted the astronomer, " for a so 
 called cultivated woman will deny the baseness 
 of her husband to her most intimate friend." 
 
 " And, for this trait in the character of woman, 
 I seek for a word, in any language whatever, but 
 I find none," interrupted Dr. Thorfin. 
 
 " Frailty ! thy name is woman !" says Shak- 
 speare ; " there you have the word," added IMr. 
 Fitz, laughing. 
 
 " Who can find the way out of the labyrinth of 
 contradictions, into which marriage without love 
 leads a woman ?" said Hinango, after a pause. 
 " JMarriage without love is a school of immo- 
 rality and crime, and often is the remote cause of 
 insanity. It is surprising that we so frequently 
 find the most interesting, intelligent, and amiable 
 women, married to men without character, and 
 very frequently to men in the highest degree 
 contracted and stupid." 
 
 " That. will admit of explanation," joined in 
 Mr. Fitz. " A French woman once said to me, 
 in confidence : ' The most stupid men make the 
 best husbands.' But it is the more inexplicable 
 to me, that many sensible women think their 
 stupid husbands intelligent. 
 
 " I every day less and less understand what is 
 comprised under the notion of a husband," said 
 Hmango. " The qualities of an admirable hus- 
 band must apparently be common and easy to 
 find, as every woman considers her husband per- 
 fect. At least, wo ! wo be to those who would 
 express, in the presence of a wife, a doubt of 
 the infallibility of her husband." 
 
 " The noblest woman acquires, by degrees, 
 the base properties of her husband, while she 
 thinks to ennoble him," observed Dr. Thorfin." 
 She sinks down to him, while she believes that 
 she has elevated him, and at length lies parallel 
 with him, and then often feels very ccmfortable. 
 She regards her companion as the most desira- 
 ble one on earth ; at least, she would hardly ex- 
 change him for another. All this happens in 
 marriage without love ; for where there is love, 
 there is also ennoblement. A noble-minded
 
 166 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 woman elevates her husband to the most noble 
 sentiment, when he loves her with thesame sin- 
 cerity as she loves him '." 
 
 " I have known women that would suffer 
 themselves to be beaten by their miserable hus- 
 band," said Fitz, laughing ; " beaten, I say, and 
 yet they not only lived vi'ith them, but had the 
 impudence to praise such unmanly canaille be- 
 fore the world, as a pattern of domestic virtue." 
 
 " Explain that to me psychologically," said 
 Hinango to Thorfin. 
 
 " That I cannot, fills me with dread," replied 
 the latter, " for I have known families, myself, 
 in which the husband lived on the property of 
 his wife, beat her, and she not only did not 
 separate from him, but praised him to others, as 
 the most excellent husband, and the finest gen- 
 tleman, that was any %vhere to be found !" 
 
 " A commercial house that I know here," re- 
 marked Mr. Fitz, " was charged to send a young 
 woman back to her friends in Europe, whose 
 husband had sunk into debauchery, illtreated 
 her, stole from her, and lived with other wo- 
 men. She refused to go away, and went back 
 to her husband instead." 
 
 " May not physical causes lie at the bottom, 
 in such a case?" inquired the captain; "per- 
 haps sensuality, and the force of habit !" 
 
 " That would be bestiality, and then I VTould 
 renounce my faith in humanity," cried Hinango. 
 
 " Our two friends," began Mr. Fitz, after a 
 
 pause, " D and F , hy no means illtreated 
 
 their wives, and were certainly not bad fellows." 
 
 " And did Madame D leave her husband, 
 
 and her property, and her two children .'" Hin- 
 ango asked. 
 
 " She felt that he did not love her," answered 
 Thorfin, " and that she, also, had never loved 
 him ; they had ' merely mai-ried each other,' as 
 takes place a thousand times. When she awoke 
 from the illusion, she became attached to an- 
 other, of whose love she felt certain. She must 
 choose, and she chose him whom she loved. 
 
 " The flight of this unhappy mother shows the 
 consequences of marriage without sympathy, 
 certainly, in a very striking light, and aflbrds 
 abundant material tor observation upon such a 
 disturbance of the female mind. Even her 
 children, as the fruits of her sensuality without 
 love, appeared indifferent to her, if not abhor- 
 rent, when she became acquainted with the 
 feeling of love, to which she had, until then 
 been a stranger. But wo to the unfortunate 
 whom she found worthy of her love, when it 
 was loo late ! 
 
 " Yet another !" said Mr. Fitz. " Mr. L , 
 
 whom you know, has become insane, has been 
 taken back to Europe, and died." 
 
 " .\nd was it through love .'" asked Hinango. 
 
 " Alas !" replied Dr. Thorfin, " a ' mysterical ' 
 woman (as Mr. Thomson expresses himself) had 
 captivated him, and appeared to love him, and 
 he loved her; and because he loved her, he 
 wished to keep at a distance from her, but he 
 could not — he fell a sacrifice ! The disturbed 
 character of the lady showed itself, in all its ca- 
 prices, in eternal contradiction with herself She 
 illtreated him like a negro, while she continued 
 to live with her husband He loved her, as a 
 man's heart can love. 
 
 "The thought of the woman he loved, in the 
 arms of another, whom she, as she declai-ed, did 
 
 not love, made him derangej. I was hw physi- 
 cian. He had lucid moments His sulTerings 
 were unheard of; but his noble character 
 showed itself, as well as his pure love ; he for- 
 gave her all she had brought upon him by her 
 ill usage. A double image lay before him", and 
 he could not banish it. Not far from the coast 
 of England, he threw himself into the sea." 
 
 " 1 know the captain who had him on board 
 as a passenger," said Captain Finngreen, after a 
 pause. " He must have been a noble man ; but 
 iio one suspected the cause of his sufferings, as I 
 learned from the captain." 
 
 " If he had ahrays been able to confide in a 
 friend, he might yet have been saved," continued 
 Thorfin ; " the necessity of silence brought on 
 his illness, and his death." 
 
 " And the woman I the unhappy woman .'" 
 hastily inquired Hinango, " how did she bear the 
 news of his death .'" 
 
 " Who can answer the question .'" replied Dr. 
 Thorfin. " The very secrecy which he uncon- 
 sciously respected, even in his derangement, 
 naturally concealed her sufferings. Her nervous 
 disorder appears, besides, to have been subdued 
 by time, and, with a certain ' philosophy of life,' 
 she finds her comfort in l.er social relations." 
 
 All were silent, and the doctor continued : 
 
 " Who can venture to decide upon what she 
 felt, what she endured? Willingly w;ould I 
 always, in every instance, intercede for the un- 
 fortunate woman, and proclaim her innocent — 
 innocent before God. Would you condemn a 
 fever patient who, in a paroxysm, escapes from 
 his watchers, and stabs a sleeping person ? or 
 would you accuse a somnambulist of suicide, 
 who should leave her bed, ascend to the roof of 
 the house, and there, frightened from some ac- 
 cidental cause, fall and break her neck ? We 
 must distinguish effect from cause. The cause 
 of this murder was mai-riage without love ; the 
 crime had its foundation in the past, in physical 
 surrender without love, whose consequences dis- 
 turb the nervous system ; and all the other crimes 
 proceed from such marriage." 
 
 A long pause again ensued, which was inter- 
 rupted by Captain Finngreen. 
 
 " In Old England," he observed, " marriage 
 without love appears to have been a la mode, at 
 least, in 'good old times,' so far as' we can 
 infer from old songs, which, in general, aptly 
 indicate the customs of a country. I once, quite 
 accidentally, bought an old book of plays, in 
 London, a volume of Dryden's words, for which 
 I only gave sixpence, and it contains many verses 
 that are worth six guineas. Just at the begin- 
 ning of ' Marriage a la mode,' we find an ad- 
 mirable song in the mouth of a lady. I believe 
 I can repeat it." 
 
 He recited, in a harmonious tone : 
 " Why should a foolish marriage vow. 
 Which long ago was made. 
 Oblige us to each other now, 
 When pajisioQ is decayed ? 
 We loved, and we laved, as long as we could, 
 
 'Till our love was loved out in us both, 
 But Bur maiTiage is dead, when the pleasure is fled : 
 'Twas pleasure first made it an oath. 
 If 1 have pleasures for a friend, 
 
 And further love in store, 
 What wrong has he whose joys did eod. 
 And who could give no more ? 
 'Tis a madness that he 
 Should be jealous of me,
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 167 
 
 Or that I should bar him of another, 
 
 Foi all we can gain 
 
 Is to give ourselves pain, 
 When neither can hinder the other." 
 
 " Excellent !" cried Hinango, while all laugh- 
 ed. " The demoralization of marriage a la mode, 
 or a union without love, is displayed in this song, 
 in all its revolting nakedness ; for, surely, a wo- 
 man who could cherish such sentiments could 
 not easily captivate any man's heart. Such a 
 woman was either incapable of love, or has de- 
 stroyed her inward life by a marriage a la mode. 
 She belongs to the numerous first classes of wo- 
 men, already indicated!" 
 
 " Whoever should write such a song at the 
 present day," observed Dr. Thorfin, " would cer- 
 tainly encounter the reproach of immorality, as 
 if he would make a jest of the sacrament of mar- 
 riage." 
 
 " That is sufficiently made a jest of by mar- 
 riage a la mode, in all countries of Christen- 
 dom," interrupted Fitz. 
 
 " And an unfortunate husband," continued 
 Captain Finngreen, " expresses himself just as 
 significantly in respect to his marriage de eon- 
 venance. In another piece, ' The Conquest of 
 Grenada,' this poor husband sighs thus : 
 
 • Marriage ! thou curse of love and snare of life, 
 
 That first debased a mistress to a wife ! 
 
 Love, like a scene, at distance should appear 
 
 But marriage views the gross-daubd landscape near. 
 
 Love's nauseous cure 1 thou cloy'st whom thou shouldst 
 
 please. 
 And, when thou cur'st, then thou art the disease. 
 When hearts are loose, thy chain our bodies ties : 
 Love couples friends ; but marriage, enemies. 
 If love, like mine, continues after thee, 
 *Tis soon made sour, and turu'd by jealousy. 
 No sign of love in jealous men remains, 
 But that which sick, men have of life — their pains.' " 
 
 " I know the 'glorious John Dryden,' as the 
 tailor poet, Claud Halcro, in Walter Scott's ' Pi- 
 rate,' calls him," remarked Hinango, " and con- 
 sider him classical in English literature. He 
 appears, besides, to have known and deeply felt 
 the sulferings of unhappy love. His Almanzor, 
 in the ' Conquest of Grenada,' is a sort of Don 
 Carlos, as represented by Schiller How admi- 
 rably tender are the dialogues between Almanzor 
 and the queen I" 
 
 " The manners of Old England, in those days, 
 may have been as licentious as they still are in 
 many countries," rejoined Dr. Thorfin ; but 
 Dryden proves, as the representative of his 
 epoch, that pure true love, even then, found an 
 altar in men's hearts." 
 
 "And he subscribes his testimony to the ac- 
 knowledgement of woman's worth," concluded 
 Captain Finngreen, ** while he declares, 
 ' Your sex and beauty are your privilege I' " 
 
 " True enough," affirmed the air pump con- 
 troller, " only the fair but too frequently abuse 
 their ' privilege,' at the expense of man's heart ; 
 and if we could examine the madhouses and 
 graves, it would become ascertained that fewer 
 females have become insane, or have ended by 
 suicide, from unfortunate sympathy, than males. 
 Women are generally more strongly constituted 
 than men, and can bear a good deal, as well 
 morally as physically." 
 
 Another long serious pause foUgwed. 
 
 " Do you believe that Madame Closting knows 
 the character of her husband .'" asked Hinango 
 at length. 
 
 " They gave her a true picture of him before 
 she married him," replied Thorfin. " She de- 
 clared it all to be lies and calumny, an outburst 
 of envy against him and her." 
 
 " She was of course blind," observed Fitz, 
 
 and even before marriage deaf; lately she has 
 also become dumb, and is now an exen.plary 
 wife, who called her negro to turn me out of 
 doors when I once mentioned, incidentally, that 
 I had known her husband in Europe !" 
 
 " Would it not be the duty of such a woman 
 to part from her husband," remarked Hinango, 
 " before sympathy for another should overpower 
 her, and she, perhaps, should captivate some- 
 noble youth, or man, and kindle a flame in him 
 which might destroy him, and lead him to sui- 
 cide, or burden him with an existence more ter- 
 rible than death ?" 
 
 " I have, as yet, known no case in which a 
 woman has parted from her husband on account 
 of his bad character, from moral conviction," re- 
 plied the physician. " Church and state promote 
 demoralization. The moral baseness of a man, 
 according to my knowledge, does not serve as 
 valid grounds for divorce, if certain points be 
 not proved." 
 
 " The viler the fellow, so much the less will 
 the woman separate from him," observed Hi- 
 nango, " for she is demoralized by him." 
 
 " A dreadful truth, which the reality around 
 us here confirms," sighed the doctor. " A lady 
 like Madame Closting may involuntarily com- 
 mit a murder to-day, or to-morrow, if she should 
 come in contact with some unfortunate for whom 
 she feels a sympathy, and who, for the moment, 
 forgets Seume's warning. You know what I 
 mean ?" 
 
 Mr. Fitz recited, with peculiar seriousness : 
 
 " Flee from the woman, friend \ within whose snare 
 Is, first, intoxication, then despair — 
 And in the whole creation no where dwells 
 A being that with every angel gift 
 In which the blinded victim may delight. 
 Will pay thee more terribly with despite." 
 
 " But Seume speaks entirely of wives, not o' 
 maidens," added he, with his customary humor. 
 
 " Wo to those !" cried Hinango, " who attain 
 such experience as we must pre-suppose in 
 Seume, before he was able to utter such words 
 of warning. I, as a man, would sooner send a 
 bullet into my head than " 
 
 He was interrupted by some one knocking at 
 the door, and Robert entered the room, with a. 
 loud friendly greeting. 
 
 " I come in all haste to see my travelling 
 companions in their comfort, and to wish them 
 good night," said he to the three newly arrived 
 strangers. " 1 have taken my sister home, and 
 am to stay at the Hotel Faroux to-night, to have 
 a meeting with some one early in the morning 
 on business. It is, to be sure, a holiday, but 
 not an English one !" 
 
 His travelling companions returned the youth's 
 pressure of the hand; he hastily drank a cup of 
 tea, and inquired if he could be in any way use- 
 ful to them, as he was ready to devote a part of 
 the following day to them. The friends returned 
 their thanks with the same heartiness with which 
 the offer had been made. Robert then stepped 
 aside with Hinango, and revealed to him under 
 what mask Dolores had been presented to his 
 aiiut, aud begged him, incase any thing was said
 
 168 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 of her, to guide himself in such a manner as to 
 maintain her incognito. Hinango seemed sur- 
 prised at the cleverness and zeal with which he 
 had conducted in this afTair, and assured him of 
 his sincere approbation. The youth, thereupon, 
 took leave as hastily as he had come, and de- 
 parted. 
 
 " Is he engaged to ?" inquired Captain 
 
 Finnsreen, when Mr. Walker left the room. 
 
 " To the young lady you mean who accom- 
 panied his sister on board at Buenos Ayres ?" 
 interrupted Hinango hastily, with a stolen wink, 
 in reference to the presence of Mr. Fitz, towards 
 whom he entertained not the slightest distrust, 
 but whose levity he knew. " I believe not, 
 captain," added he, " Robert's heart appears as 
 yet untouched by the electric ray of love."' 
 
 " He is an excellent young man !" observed 
 the captain, "that he is, so far as I know him, 
 and endowed by nature and by fate with all that 
 might make a woman happy who is worthy of 
 him. He behaved nobly and resolutely in res- 
 cuing Alvarez. I should hardly have expected 
 it of him." 
 
 " Nor I either ; but the ' merchanf has not 
 yet choked the 'man' in him," added Hinango. 
 " He has deep feelings, and his position is dan- 
 gerous; he will often have to suppress them on 
 the exchange." 
 
 " No one has any business there with mind and 
 feelings," said Mr. Fitz. . . 
 
 Captain Finngreen looked at his watch, re- 
 marked that it was late, and rose to return to his 
 vessel. Horatio and Alvarez had taken little 
 part in the conversation in the Norse language, 
 and being, besides, wearied and exhausted, had 
 withdrawn to their rooms. 
 
 Mr. Fitz attended the captain to his shallop, 
 and Dr. Thorfin remained alone with Hinango. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PLANS OF MARRI.\GE. 
 
 HnvANGo had already, on board the Nordtsjer- 
 nan, communicated, in all brevity, to his friend. 
 Dr. Thorfin, the circumstances of the South 
 American lady, whose personal security, before 
 all things, lay near his heart. 
 
 " You know old Mr. Thomson, then, as it ap- 
 pears, very well .>" inquired he, now that they 
 were alone; " do you believe that he is a man 
 who would protect her, in case a cunning plan 
 should be formed for carrying her off to Bue- 
 nos Ayres. 
 
 " I know the old man, and have great confi- 
 dence in him. He is a genuine Briton, in the 
 noblest sense of the word ; who possesses many 
 of the good qualities of his nation, but there- 
 with, also, the individual originality which we 
 generally find among Britons, and which ex- 
 actly characterizes them. So far as I know old 
 Mr. George, it does not appear improbable to 
 me, that he may come to the resolution to offer 
 his hand to Dolores ! to marry her !" 
 
 Hinango, to whom laughter was not very 
 familiar, suddenly underwent the involuntary 
 violent shaking of the diaphragm, which, accord- 
 
 ing to the assertion of physicians, is so conda- 
 cive to health, and is not so easily smothered ; 
 he sank upon a sofa, and yielded himself to the 
 influence of an intimation, which was certainly 
 originally British, insomuch as two extremes 
 were to meet. 
 
 "No! you joke!" cried he at length, drying 
 the drops of Momus from his cheeks ; " I hardly 
 think that he can entertain such an idea." 
 
 " Why not .' he has had four wives, and is now 
 looking out for a fifth ; and, so far as I know his 
 taste, such a majestic figure as your fellow-voy- 
 ager, with a tendency to corpulency, as he calls 
 it, and which he likes, is, for him, an alluring 
 object." 
 
 " But, Mr. George would be no alluring object 
 for Dolores, so far as I know her," said Hinango, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Of that I am just as well satisfied." 
 
 " And the fellow, the spy, of whom you told 
 me, visits at Thomson's V' 
 
 " He has worked himself in there, as into 
 many other families ; less, however, as it appears, 
 to spy there, than to make his court to Mr. 
 Thomson's sister. She is an old maid, who pos- 
 sesses some property, and hopes, at length, 
 through the baron, to wear the ring." 
 
 " You believe, then, that he designs to offer 
 himself!" 
 
 " So it seems to me ; a speculation on his part, 
 to betake himself to repose, somehow, or to 
 travel about more comfortably ; to keep house 
 here and there, to receive foreigners at home, 
 and so act the spy more conveniently. We see 
 such perambulating social circles in many cities, 
 where the elements of fermentation exist, which 
 the European powers think it important to 
 control." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, similar posts have been pro- 
 posed to both of us, in our travels, and under 
 very brilliant conditions, too." 
 
 " To you, as well as to me," assented Thorfin. 
 " Literati and physicians appear to be very useful 
 subjects to the secret police. The title of baron, 
 whether true or false, always has its value with 
 the English %vomen, as a qualification of respect- 
 ability, although a German baron certainly does 
 not stand very high in England. Whoever, as a 
 foreigner, makes acquaintance in an English 
 family, and wishes to marry, will do better to 
 call himself count, and in three weeks he will 
 make a good match." 
 
 " What sort of person is Miss Thomson ? how 
 will she deport herself to a young lady, such as I 
 have described Dolores to you .'" 
 
 " As lead to gold, and as pebbles to a diamond. 
 She is one of those females of English manu- 
 facture who proceed as marriageable from the 
 always uniformly moving machine of English fin- 
 ishing. She is a brilliant production of the 
 British system of education, according to which 
 children are forbidden to cry, or to laugh, and 
 are rapped on the knuckles when they show a 
 lively interest in any thing, as that, of course, 
 manifests excitability of feeling. She appears 
 to be a masterpiece of such culture, since there 
 is evidently no trace of feeling left in hep. One 
 would believe that such beings have no souls, 
 and in consequence, do not operate with the 
 attraction upon the manly heart, and so remain 
 single, their characters becoming every year 
 more soured and embittered, until, at length, a
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 169 
 
 canllditc Tor mAti'Imony feels himself attracted 
 tmv.ii'iii thorn by their fortune, (in case they po3- 
 ses-i one,) and so ' the antiquity ' is taken into the 
 bar;;ain. 
 
 " This is the class to which Miss Thomson 
 bolonijs." 
 
 " A bad governess for Dolores. And you are 
 Mr, Thomson's family physician ?" 
 
 " I am his physician, but not hers; she uses 
 her English domestic quack-pharmacopsia, and, 
 in special cases, very naturally, an English phy- 
 sician " 
 
 " Well ! you visit at Mr. Thomson's country 
 house ?" 
 
 " To be sure ! I am very intimate with Mr. 
 Thomson." 
 
 " We shall by that means, on our part, then, 
 be able to guard Dolores ; and keep up a com- 
 munication with her." 
 
 " So long as the country house at Bota Fogo 
 is not, like Paris, surrounded by citadels, and 
 declared in a state of siege, I hope to have ad- 
 mittance there." 
 
 " Whilst the old negro Achilles remains in 
 her service, she has personal defence, besides 
 her pistols, in case a formal attempt sliould be 
 made to carry her off; which I do not expect. 
 I rather fear that they will endeavor to remove 
 her, and get her in their possession by strata- 
 gem, especially if she, according to her inten- 
 tion, continues her literary efTorts here, arranges 
 her poems for an edition, and finally issues 
 them." 
 
 " That would, perhaps, not be advisable." 
 
 " My dear Thorfin, is it altogether advisable 
 on her part, or mine, to put our heads at hazard, 
 and renounce all claims on life, from — how shall 
 I call that which impels us ? from a self-convic- 
 tion of our vocation ? from an irresistible in- 
 ward impulse, which drives us to intellectual 
 efrort3 .' Is it not the requisition of the strength 
 within her, as in me, to strive on in eternal move- 
 ment, induced by the attraction of the idea whose 
 rays penetrate us .'" 
 
 " I understand you, Ormur ! and in these 
 words, you have defined your position and hers." 
 
 ** My position is a peculiar one — I know my- 
 self; I stand low before God, for he knows that 
 I bear this earthly life as a burden — that I long 
 for death." 
 
 " Ever this horrible longing for death !" in- 
 terrupted Thorfin. " Poor Ormur ! you are 
 weak. Can you then attain to no side of life 
 which will give you a hold upon earthly exist- 
 ence ?" 
 
 "None, but the duty yet to live for the cause 
 of the nations. I often feel myself bowed down, 
 however, and from day to day become more de- 
 solate within. When I again saw, to-day, this 
 paradise of Guenabara, I cannot tell you how 
 entirely different it appeared to me from before. 
 It seemed to me as if a veil hung between me 
 and nature, that separated me from her, that 
 made me foreign to her ; as if the whole pano- 
 rama around me here were a pictured image, not 
 through its originality, as at the first view, two 
 years ago, but through a certain indescribable 
 something in myself that isolated me— separated 
 me from the world — the social world, to which 
 1 do not belong, which has thrust me forth be- 
 cause my mind recognises an aim, in advance of 
 tne age, that stands higher than our time, because 
 22 
 
 I have become a man, and the world only re- 
 quires machines." 
 
 " God, who has assigned you the path, will arm 
 you, also, with strength to tread it, to pursue your 
 aim. Continue in the consciousness of your 
 strength, preserve your faith in humanity and in 
 God. And now, good night. I have the chacara 
 on St. Theresa arranged for you to-morrow. Ho- 
 ratio, and Alvarez can likewise come to me 
 to-morrow, at my house on da Gloria. I did not 
 find Vernon at home ; he will bring the letters 
 to you himself early in the morning." 
 
 The friends separated, and Hinango stepped 
 out upon the balcony, gazed upward at the south- 
 ern cross, and sank into meditations, to which we 
 will leave him for the present. 
 
 "WV^^ys/^.^^/^^^^- 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MISS SUSAN. 
 
 Miss Susan Thomson sat in a shady arbor on 
 the garden terrace of the country house at Bota 
 Fogo, which she inhabited with her brother. 
 She was a "young lady" on the wrong side ot 
 forty, slender, and without the slighest tendency 
 to corpulency, in a pearl coloured satin dress, h 
 la Victoria, with flounce trimmings, a la Mel- 
 bourne. Her countenance, though tolerably re- 
 gularly formed, was without expression, an 
 empty leaf, that, as the title page of her heart, 
 said nothing at all. A moderately large light 
 gray eye contained so little " fluid ray," that it 
 hardly entered the eyes of a person upon 
 whom she looked, when in conversation, not- ' 
 withstanding which, however. Miss Susan saw 
 as keenly at a distance as a pilot on the coast of 
 Old England. She was born in Berkeley street, 
 near Berkeley square, London ; of course, she 
 was of substantial respectability. From the first 
 little socks, that full forty years before she had 
 worn on her little feet, to the certainly somewhat 
 larger stockings whose silken fabric was suitable 
 to the larger footing on which she lived in Rio, 
 she had never worn a single thread that was not 
 of British manufacture. She was reading in 
 Campbell's " Pleasures of Hope," in a book 
 which had never seemed to her so interesting 
 and attracting, as since she had become ac- 
 quainted with the Baron de Spandau whose 
 attentions had awakened thoughts in her, that 
 almost bor(^ered upon sentiment. Hearing foot- 
 steps in a sidewalk of the park which led from 
 the house to the terrace, she thrust the " Plea- 
 sures of Hope" into her reticule, and took out, 
 instead, the Almanac of British Missions, in the 
 reading of which she appeared absorbed, as a 
 negro brought her a billet, in which Mr. Thom- 
 son informed her of the arrival of the relatives 
 from Buenos Ayres, with the request that she 
 would send the dark blue carriage to the land- 
 ing place. 
 
 " Is it possible!" cried she ; " Miss Fanny and 
 Mr. Robert Walker, from Buenos Ayres ! is it 
 possible .'" and she hastened to give the requisito 
 orders to the butler, who was, besides, chief JD' 
 tendant of the equipages.
 
 170 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 When the negro had withdrawn, and Misg Su 
 Fan found herself once more alone, at home, she 
 ventured to pursue her worldly reading with 
 the more security, since she was now sure 
 that her brother would not come so soon 
 Hardly, however, had she read some lines, when 
 she was again disturbed, and again took in her 
 hand the Almanac of Missions, being threat 
 ened by the danger of having her sinful propen 
 aity for worldly reading remarked. 
 
 A negro in livery, on horseback, brought a 
 flower pot, with a rare Chinese plant, and a writ- 
 ten compliment, from Monsieur le Baron de 
 Spandau, in which he commended this flower, 
 from the Celestial empire of legitimacy, to her 
 especial care, significantly adding : " They call 
 this flower (which will gradually unfold itself) 
 I'Esperance de Chine, or "I'Amour del'Empire 
 Celeste ?" 
 
 Miss Susan's pale countenance %vas suffused 
 by a maiden blush, as she read the billet, which 
 was directed to George Thomson, Esq., at Bota 
 Fogo, and was unsealed. 
 
 She considered, for a long time, whether she 
 should give a millreis to the.servant of the amia- 
 ble baron, or whether such a gift would not 
 compromise the baron's livery. Not from 
 economy, or avarice, but out of pure discretion 
 in respect to the compensation of the negro, she 
 at length decided to hand him a patack in copper, 
 which the mulack on horseback received with 
 thanks, and departed on a gallop. 
 
 The suddenly ensuing twilight at length in- 
 terrupted Miss Susan's reading ; she walked 
 through the tropical shrubberies of the " Eng- 
 lish park," into the apartment, furnished in 
 English style, and placed the worldly book, 
 among the less interesting books of her brother, 
 , which principally treated of the art of fishing, 
 a favorite study of the old widower. In expec- 
 tation of the relatives who were coming, she 
 commanded the stranger's room to be put in 
 order, anrt the tea table set for four persons, 
 contemplating, from time to time, the plant de 
 I'Amour de I'Empire Celeste, which only showed 
 a very small, hardly perceptible bud ; and at 
 length the blue carriage rattled before the high 
 gate of the English country house. 
 
 The strangers entered the garden, and Miss 
 Susan walked slowly towards them, for a hurried 
 step would have indicated a certain excitement 
 of feeling, which was contrary to all fashion, 
 »nd, besides, unknown in the ice cellar of her 
 heart. 
 
 " Good evening Aunt Susan ! how are you .' 
 always well and hearty .'" cried Robert to her 
 from a distance, .^unt Susan made bo reply, but 
 directed her British critical glance towards that 
 majestic form of the American lady, who ap- 
 peared on the arm of the old widower, attended 
 by Achilles and his daughter Corinna. The rich, 
 black, splendid hair, ' a I'enfant,' of the young 
 lady, was evidently not the less dark hair of Miss 
 Fanny Walker. 
 
 " What the devil is this ?" she muttered to 
 herself; " can I have lest my senses ?" 
 
 " How are you. Miss Susan ?" cried Mr. Thom- 
 son also. " Thank you for sending the carriage. 
 I have the honor to present to you the Seiiora 
 Isabella Campana — the betrothed of our nephew 
 Robert, who has run away with her from Buenos 
 Ayres. Senora Isabella will pass for our niece 
 
 until we hare obtained the consent of her pa- 
 rents. Mark that ! and keep a close mouth. Do 
 you understand me. Miss Susan ? And now be 
 properly friendly, and give your hand to our 
 future relative !" 
 
 Senora Dolores courtesied with the elegant dig- 
 nity which %va§ peculiar to her nature, but Miss 
 Susan by no means held out her hand to her. 
 " So !" was all that, after a long pause, her thin 
 violet blue lips uttered. She stood before the 
 exile of La Plata, like a statue cast out of sul- 
 phur, lunar caustic, and gall. 
 
 It was not merely a passing moment, it was 
 'ail event' in her dry, lean life of forty years — an 
 event that agitated her hardly living nerves, in 
 a degree to which no event upon this planet 
 had ever yet affected and agitated Miss Susan 
 Thomson. Nothing — ^nothing in the world in- 
 terested her beside the baron, since he had 
 admired her really handsome, though rather 
 large teeth. Nothing could make any impres- 
 sion upon her but a visit of the baron, and the 
 incidental intelligence that any young lady of 
 her acquaintance (whether some weeks, months, 
 or years younger than herself) was betrothed; 
 was to be married, or even had already passed 
 the line of female destiny. With a contemptu- 
 ous glance, the feeble ray of which did not, it 
 is true, stream forth more than three inches 
 from the point of her nose, she gazed upon the 
 handsome, stately youth, and then again upon the 
 embarrassed betrothed, %vho raised her hand to 
 meet the expected pressure of Aunt Susan's. The 
 hardly grown " green youth" seized in her stead 
 the hand of his " bride," and shook it right hear- 
 tily, in good English style, and said : 
 
 " Come in, Senora Isabella ! uncle George will 
 show you your rooms ; we will then drink tea, 
 and I will hurry back to the city, to my hotel." 
 
 The words " to the city, to my hotel," fell upon 
 Miss Susan's ear like a verse from a psalm, and 
 at least intimated the speedy departure of her 
 insufferable nephew from La Plata, who, " hardly 
 out of school," had carried off a young lady, and, 
 as it appeared, even had the fixed intention to 
 marry her ! an idea which certainly was enough 
 to make a young lady like Aunt Susan crazy, as 
 no youth on earth had ever sought to put in ex- 
 ecution such an idea towards her, notwithstand- 
 ing she was already some months older than this 
 strange person. 
 
 Mr. Thomson led the young lady to the door 
 of a room that stood ready for her, besought 
 indulgence for the ill humor of his sister, and 
 hurried back to her " to read her a text" upon 
 such inhospitality towards a strange lady, whom 
 their genial nephew had carried off from Buenos 
 Ayres to Rio, as dexterously as so many old or 
 young gentlemen in England have escorted a 
 bride to Gretna Green. 
 
 " George !" cried Miss Susan to her brother, 
 anticipating his lecture, and pointing with the 
 dry thumb of her right hand to a path sur- 
 rounded by thick shrubbery, towards which she 
 directed her steps ; " George ! I have something 
 to say to you." 
 
 Mr. George followed the indication of the 
 thumb, and entered the lonely corner, in which 
 his sister came up to him, with both hands rest- 
 ing on her waist, and, staring at him from head to 
 foot, asked him : " Have you dined at the Hotel 
 Faroux .'"
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 171 
 
 " To be sore ; with the Baron de Spandau 
 and Dr. Thorfin," replied the old widower. 
 
 " Then you are intoxicated ?" 
 
 " I might ask you, in return, whether you are 
 crazy ; but it would be unkind, and, therefore, I 
 shall only think as I please." 
 
 " Notwithstanding that, I repeat the question, 
 what does this mean ? What is it ? what must I 
 call it ? You bring a foreigner into the house, and 
 introduce her as Robert's betrothed, whom he 
 has carried olT from Buenos Ayres !" 
 
 " Carried off with the connivance of his father, 
 Mr. John Walker, although he could not own it 
 in Buenos Ayres." 
 
 " With Mr. John's consent ? Have I heard 
 rightly .' And she is a Spanish woman ! a South 
 American, and, also, a Catholic.'" 
 
 " Probably ! and has brought with her a for- 
 tune of about a million two hundred thousand 
 pesos in solid paper — for she is of age, and the 
 consent of her parents, which she expects, is a 
 secondary concern." 
 
 " Then she has property ? and it is at her dis- 
 posal ? and she is of age .' Of age .' Then she 
 IS not so very young; and, indeed, that may 
 easily be seen. She is no longer a child. But 
 a Catholic ! and I must live under one roof with 
 her !" 
 
 " That is not necessary," said Mr. Thomson, 
 laughing. " You can move into the pavilion, 
 over there ; that has a separate roof." 
 
 " Nonsense ! You even permit yourself to 
 jest with my religion, degenerate as you are, 
 with all your Catholic wives! Four! four 
 women has this man led to the altar, and a per- 
 son like me has not even " She suppressed 
 
 her righteous lamentation, and burst into bitter 
 tears. " And that simpleton, that booby, Robert, 
 already thinks of matrimony, and is, at the 
 utmost, two and twenty years old ; and brings a 
 Catholic into the house, who is, to be sure, not 
 so very young. But what is the particular need 
 of her being married just now ? Ai'e they in 
 such a hurry .'" She dried her righteous tears, 
 and inquired further : " And the person is to 
 pass for Miss Fanny .'" 
 
 " Yes !" replied Mr. George, briefly and posi- 
 tively. " No one must know but that she is 
 Miss Fanny Walker ; and if you undertake to 
 betray, by a look, that she is not, I will forbid 
 the baron the house, and he shall never cross 
 my threshold again I Do you know what's 
 trump ? Hearts are played — take the trick, or 
 follow suit." 
 
 " Shocking!" sighed Miss Susan, directing her 
 feeble glance towards the summit of the Corco- 
 vado, into the cloudless ether. " And he talks in 
 card-playing language to spite me, in the bar- 
 gain, for he knows that I can as little endure card 
 playing, as musical instruments and Catholics." 
 
 " Then the Baron de Spandau ought never to 
 come to the house again," said Mr. George, 
 biiefly and pointedly. 
 
 "How so? Good heavens! how so?" in- 
 quired she, hastily. 
 
 " Why, because he is a Catholic." 
 
 " A Catholic ! The Baron de Spandau a 
 Catholic ?" 
 
 " To be sure, Miss Susan ; a Catholic, from 
 the land of Goshen, or Posen, in Prussia, or some- 
 wtere else. ' But he is a Catholic ; that I know 
 assuredly." 
 
 Miss Susan stood like a welt spiced plum 
 pudding overflowed with Jamaica rum. Mazing 
 up, and the blood mounted with such violence 
 to her head, that the veins in her temples threat- 
 ened to burst. She would gladly have made 
 an exception to the rule, but she feared it might 
 be too conspicuous, and found it expedient to 
 bring into the world another long, long " So !" 
 and at length inquired : " And Robert — he is 
 not, then, to stay with her — with this person — 
 this foreigner ?" 
 
 " Robert will stay somewhere else until we 
 receive the consent from Buenos Ayres, which 
 is a mere form," returned Mr. George, briefly, 
 and more di'ily than before. 
 
 " And the Baron will come to dinner on Sun- 
 day ?" inquired the young lady. 
 
 " He comes every Sunday, even if he is not 
 invited ; but I will tell him to come to-morrow, 
 for I have to go to the Hotel Faroux. And now. 
 Miss Susan, be properly friendly, and sit down 
 to the tea table with us, and speak two or three 
 words to Miss Fanny. Do not call her SeSora 
 Isabella. Do you hear? She speaks as good 
 English as we — with a Spanish accent, it is true ; 
 but we must say here, what indeed is the truth, 
 that our sister, Mrs. Walker, died early, and that' 
 Miss Fanny was educated in the Spanish lan- 
 guage. Do you understand ? Take heed ! and 
 be properly friendly." 
 
 The million of the young lady's disposable 
 property, her being at least arrived at majority, 
 and the baron's Catholicism, had suddenly given 
 another direction to the old English brig. Miss 
 Susan ; she now steered, under an augmenting 
 breeze of tolerance around the reel's of her 
 brother's obstinacy, which she had already run 
 foul of so olten, and laid her course for the Cap 
 d'Esperance de Chine, or Cap d'Amour de I'Em- 
 pire Celeste, without, however, allowing it to be 
 perceived whither she was sailing. 
 
 " I will come to tea," said the slender young 
 lady in a pearl colored dress, a la Roine 'Victoria, 
 with a somewhat milder tone. " Robert, is go- 
 ing into town again, to the Hotel Faroux ; I will 
 come directly — perhaps, he may meet the baron. 
 You can send him word, by Robert, that on Sun- 
 day he " 
 
 " Give yourself no uneasiness, about that ! he 
 will be sure to come ! I'll engage for that. But 
 I'll write him a line, now, right away ; Robert, 
 can take it with him." 
 
 The gloamings of a 'better' humor suddenly 
 flitted over Miss Susan's countenance, even if 
 it were still far remote from 'good' humor. Her 
 brother had now tried the bridge bit upon her, 
 with which he hoped, with skill, to man.ige her, 
 in case she should take it in her head to turn 
 even one step aside from the prescribed path of 
 silence. By these means, he saw the incognito 
 of " the young lady, with an undeniable ten- 
 dency to corpulency," assured for the present; 
 and, what was most important to him, he had, 
 quite incidentally, througli Robert's own contri- 
 vance, obtained an admirable pretext to get his 
 handsome young nephew out of the house. 
 The intimacy with his betrothed, who was 
 even to pass for his sister, appeared to the old 
 widower, if not dangerous, at least superfluous. 
 
 Mr. Robert awaited the family, in the spacious 
 garden saloon, the walls of which were decora- 
 ted with four oil paintings, the portraits of Mr,
 
 172 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Thomson's four corpulent wives, painted during 
 their lives, by various artists, in entirely differ- 
 ent styles. One thing was, however, uniform 
 on all four of the portraits, a precise threefold 
 notice of weight : first, at the period of mar- 
 riage; second, the highest matrimonial develop- 
 ment; and third, the weight of the corpse, set 
 down in the right hand corner of each picture, 
 in gold letters and figures. 
 
 "Is that Robert's negro ?" inquired Miss Su- 
 san, in a mild voice, when she espied old Achil- 
 les, whom she had not seen before, from pure 
 gall, though he was all the while close to Do- 
 lores. 
 
 " it is Miss Fanny's coachman .'" replied Mr. 
 Thomson, briefly and seriously, as before ; " and 
 the negress is his daughter. Miss Fanny's cham- 
 bermaid. They are free, not slaves," added he. 
 " Order our people to treat them as Miss Fanny's 
 attendants." 
 
 " A coachman — corresponding with her pro- 
 perty — certainly very respectable — * carnage 
 people ' then," thought Miss Susan, and went into 
 the salon with her brother, just as Miss Fanny 
 was led in by an opposite door. 
 
 Mr. Robert, in accordance with his double sta- 
 ' tion of brother and bridegroom, hastened to meet 
 his bride, or his sister, (whichever we may entitle 
 her,) offered her his hand, and led her to her 
 place at the tea table, which Mr. Thomson 
 thought very wellbred and civil, but, notwith- 
 standing, superfluous. 
 
 " Were you long at sea, Miss Fanny .'" inquired 
 Miss Susan, in a peculiarly mild voice, and with 
 the most humane glance possible. 
 
 " Sixteen days from the English Bank at the 
 mouth of La Plata," replied the niece, and the 
 conversation proceeded in a tolerable family tone, 
 until Robert had drank his tea in haste, and 
 received the billet from his uncle, which the lat- 
 ter had, in equal haste, written to Monsieur le 
 Baron de Spandau. 
 
 Robert now lingered for a moment by Miss 
 Fanny, and whispered in her ear some tranquil- 
 lizing andconsoling words, which the old widow- 
 er found not only superfluous, but in the highest 
 degree indiscreet, as he did not understand them, 
 and the entire relation of the young man to the 
 imposing beauty from La Plata, appeared much 
 too intimate for him to find Bob's daily presence, 
 at breakfast, dinner, and tea, even endurable. 
 
 Silently rejoicing at the plan of his nephew, 
 which made hislivingout of the house requisite, 
 he enjoined it once more upon him to make his 
 visit early on the morrow to Sr. Moreto's rela- 
 tive on da Glo»ia, stuck the billet in his pocket, 
 and availed himself of that opportunity literally 
 to take the young man by the collar and put him 
 out of the room, where his presence had become 
 in the highest degree irksome to the old widower. 
 
 Mr. Thomson now did the honors to the young 
 lady, as the brother-in-law of Mr. Walker, who 
 had so urgently recommended her to him, while 
 Mr. Robert rode back to the city, where we have 
 alreadv seen him at the Hotel du Nord. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE STRANGERS IN THEIR HOTELS. 
 
 Hardly had Robert seated himself on the 
 following morning at breakfast in the Hotel Fa- 
 roux, when the servant of the corridor on which 
 his apartment opened, brought him a card, 
 inscribed, " Forro & Co." The representative 
 of this firm was conducted to the private parlor 
 of the young Briton, who soon stood in his pre- 
 sence. 
 
 Sr. Forro was a figure of the middle size, ele- 
 gantly dressed in the Brazilian business costume, 
 in white linen. His countenance bore a strikingly 
 calculating expression, which undeniably inti- 
 mated that he was a man of business, and would 
 even make a profit on his physiognomy, if a La- 
 vater were to make him an inviting offer to 
 purchase it ; for it was not very valuable to 
 himself, giving him not much credit with 
 others. 
 
 Robert spoke to the representative of the house 
 of Forro & Co., in a brief, businesslike man- 
 ner, and announced that he had casually heard 
 that a geologist had projected various plans and 
 proposals for the establishment of a mining co- 
 lony on the coast of Brazil. He desired to enter 
 into connexion with the geological gentleman, 
 as he, or rather his house, were inclined to found 
 a similar undertaking, in case no other mercan- 
 tile house, of any nation whatever, had positively 
 entered into the intended business ; m such a 
 case, he must apologize for having troubled 
 him, as he should then withdraw his propo- 
 sition, and consider it as if it had not been 
 made. 
 
 The decided business tone of the young man, 
 and especially the name of the firm of Walker 
 & Co., appeared to please the agent of the geolo- 
 gist, and he replied, with brevity : 
 
 " The enterprise, of which you have accident- 
 ally heard, is, like every business of the kind, 
 strictly a secret until the expiration of a certain 
 time. As Mr. Closting's agents, we are in nego- 
 tiation with a certain house, and expect a partner 
 of the house from Europe, via Buenos Ayres. 
 According to our last agreement, the provisionary 
 company is bound to sign the contract within 
 four-and-twenty hours alter the arrival of the 
 partner in Rio, or, if not, it is at our option to 
 proceed, or not, in the enterprise. According to 
 the Jornal do Commercio, the expected partner 
 arrived here last evening, and we require the 
 decision to-day, before sundown. If no one ap- 
 plies, we are under no further obligation towards 
 this house, and shall not be disinclined to open 
 the whole project to you." 
 
 " In case no one should announce himself to 
 you," replied Mr. Walker, " I shall expect you 
 directly after sundown, this evening, at the 
 bureau of our house, in Rua Direita." 
 
 " Very well !" assented Senhor Forro. " In 
 that case, I will not keep you waiting ; and, that 
 you may not wait for me, I will send you word 
 in case 1 shall not come; and it will remain as 
 strictly a secret that I have had the honor to 
 make you this visit, as the business has been 
 until now." 
 
 " I am entirely agreed," replied the young 
 merchant ; and Mr. Forro took a hasty leat'e, 
 and left the parlor and the Hotel Farouz.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 173 
 
 In the narrow billiard room of a German pub- 
 lic house, in the Rua do Cano, (which certainly 
 contained less stories, and corridors, and parlors, 
 and chambers, than the Hotel Faroux,) at this 
 eame time, sat a stranger, at a small, moderate, 
 and neatly covered tat)le. 
 
 It was his princely highness, Tobo Poutam, a 
 Botocudo prince, without crown or sceptre, 
 dressed in white linen. He bore a broad, trian- 
 gular countenance, with long and thick raven 
 hair, small Kalmuck eyes, a broad flat nose, yel- 
 lowish brown complexion, thick lips, with a sort 
 of bottle cork fastened in the under one, and 
 similar ornaments displayed in his ears 
 
 Tobo Poutam drank his national Brazilian 
 drink of coffee, and opposite to him sat Dr. 
 Merbold, similarly employed, and near him a 
 cigar box full of holes, containing the double 
 apecimen of the Simplex iVlerboldensis. 
 
 " You are, then, an Enger-eck-moung,"' said 
 the savant, looking as intently upon his breakfast 
 companion as he ever cared to look at any thing 
 that was not a beetle ; " an Engereckmoung ! 
 1 am Very happy to make your acquaintance ; 
 that is, here in the Rua do Cano-^for at your 
 home, there on the Rio Doce, your acquaintance 
 might be somewhat unpleasant." 
 
 Tlie honest Engereckmoung, who undorstond 
 »o much Portuguese as his education as a prince, 
 in contact with half savage European princes, 
 permitted, comprehended, at least, the words 
 Kio Doce, and asked the ' Senhor Branco ' if he 
 had been there, among his tribe, on the Rio Doce 
 
 " Have 1 been there .'" said the little beetle- 
 Wan, smiling; " I should think so, Senhor En- 
 gereckmoung. I was a prisoner there ; a prisoner, 
 for two months, among your noble race. I lost 
 myself there, one day, in the primeval forest, 
 when I was hunting beetles upon the Rio Doce, 
 and I could write a whole book upon the scien- 
 tific aberration. Enough ! I found, at length, 
 amongst apes and parrots, a couple of human 
 beings — perhaps a couple of the people of your 
 tribe." 
 
 " Of your subjects, you should say, doctor;" 
 interrupted a waiter, in German ; " that is a 
 prince — he is here in Rio, in audience with 
 the prince, and to acquire a notion of civiliza- 
 tion '. 
 
 " Hey ! the devil ! a prince ! then a highness ! 
 a serene highness ! I wonder whether he has as 
 liberal views as our crown prince of Prussia ? 
 Do you know whether he is constitutional, or 
 despotic .' I assure you that the prince by 
 whom I was taken prisoner was very constitu- 
 tional — nut, at all despotic. I have already told 
 you, that my Botocudo prince kept me with 
 him in the forest, as a prisoner of state — but he 
 helped me to look for beetles, and laughed at 
 tee, for calling that my business ! His naked 
 bodyguard had taken away all that I carried 
 about me, but all Was carefully preserved — my 
 whole baggage, and even my money. I had 
 sixty-eight millreis with me, when they took 
 me ; every evening he took one millreis for board 
 and lodging, as he gave me to understand. 
 Well ! the board was very simple, and the lodg- 
 ing was cerainly the largest that a state pris- 
 oner ever inhabited — it was the wide primeval 
 
 * The proper name of the Botocudoes j the latter is a 
 nickname which the Portuguese have bestowed upon 
 them, in reference to the piece of wood on the under lip. 
 
 forest ! When I had dwelt sixty-three days 
 with him, without a dwelling, and sat at his ta- 
 ble, where there was no table at all, he at 
 length gave me back my five millreis, for travel- 
 ling expenses, and showed me the way out of 
 the forest, to the banks of the river, and made 
 me a present of a bow and arrows, as a keepsake, 
 and of a handful of beetles, among which 
 there Was, unfortunately, no undiscovered spe- 
 cies." 
 
 His highness from Rio Doce had, during tha 
 relation, retired to his room. A negro announced 
 the arrival of a traveller, who inquired for Dr. 
 Merbold. 
 
 " 1 know, already, who that may be ! It is my 
 travelling companion, the Englishman from 
 Buenos Ayres, what Was his name ■ ?'' 
 
 " He can have lodgings here !" cried the 
 waiter, following the naturalist down the stairs, 
 on the lowest step of which, stood Mr. Habak- 
 kuk Daily, who called himself Mr. James John 
 Stone. He had safely reached Brazilian ground, 
 from the smuggling smack, on the shore of a 
 bay outside the Sugar Loaf, and, with the sacri- 
 fice of a few sovereigns, (over the stipulated 
 sum,) had been well served by his companions, 
 in all that related to his incognito and his twcr 
 heavy trunks, which Were now borne near hins, 
 upon the woolly heads of two gigantic Loango 
 negroes, who Were just in the act of relieving 
 themselves of the enormous burdens.^ By_ what 
 means he had, since midnight, arrived in the 
 city from the shore, the mules who had carried 
 him and his trunks, and perhaps their drivers, 
 knew better than he. 
 
 Enough, that Mr. Stone had an-ived at the 
 German tavern, in the Rua do Cano, which 
 Dr. Merbold had aerviceably informed him of, 
 and now entered an unpretending department, 
 where he safely bestotved his trunks for the 
 present. 
 
 He learned, to his great dissatisfaction, that 
 Mr. Closting, the naturalist, was in the interior 
 of the country, and was not expected back in 
 some months, which certainly made a small . 
 " stroke through his reckoning," though it by 
 no means annulled it. 
 
 Mr. John James, or James John Stone, as he 
 variously styled himself, (since the name wag 
 yet new to him,) made his toilet like a clerk who 
 might pass for a " gentleman," took breakfast by 
 himself, and then went to the neighboring Rua 
 Direita, to announce his arrival at the bureau 
 of his house. Walker & Co. 
 
 The three trarelling companions from the river 
 la Plata, who had gone to the Hotel du Nord, sat 
 likewise at the aromatic collee, which, drank at 
 the " fountain head," in Brazil, appears like an 
 entirely different berverage from what it is in Eu- 
 rope, since the beans partly lose their peculiar 
 tropical flavor by the transportation across the 
 ocean. 
 
 Gango, a negro, went out and in, and was 
 particularly attentive to every call of Hinan^o, 
 since he had already become acquainted with 
 him two years betbre. The Scandinavian caused 
 the two South Americans to observe the Ethio- 
 pian, by inquiring how he had been since he saw 
 him last. 
 
 Gango thanked him, and replied that he had 
 been very well.
 
 174 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " And do you still copy the Jornal do Com- 
 mercio ?" inquired Hinango, laughing, and re- 
 lated to his companions What he meant by the 
 question : 
 
 " When I lived here two years ago, I came 
 home very late one night, and found Gango bu- 
 eied in copying, as precisely as possible, with a 
 pen and ink, the print of the Jornal do Commer- 
 cio, to exercise himself in writing, as he did not 
 appear to know that other letters existed for 
 writing. I assure you he had nearly attained to 
 the perfection of caligraphy !" 
 
 The negro was embarrassed, and observed that 
 he had practised long enough to be able to copy 
 the letters properly. 
 
 " What do you say to this desire for cultiva- 
 tion, which you meet with here amongst the Bra- 
 eilian negroes ! I will take you to-day to a poor 
 black tailor, who, without a teacher, has learned 
 French by means of a grammar and dictionary, 
 and now reads French authors in his leisure 
 hours ! Dees not such a negro shame many of 
 the whites of Europe, who can hardly read and 
 write their mother tongue, and never take a book 
 in their hands besides a cash book .'" 
 
 " There goes an equipage with a white coach- 
 man and white footman," remarked Horatio, who 
 had stepped out upon the balcony, " and a negro 
 is sitting inside, elegantly dressed, with a young 
 negress, like a dame a la mode !" 
 
 " That will not surprise you," replied Ormur, 
 " when you become better acquainted with Rio ; 
 you will here find negresses and mulatto women 
 at the balls of the elegant world. The most cele- 
 brated minister of state under king John was a 
 neero. The capacity for cultivation, and the 
 intellectual powers of the negro, never appeared 
 strange to me; but one thing surprises me; the 
 intolerance and prejudice with which the whites 
 of so called Christian nations treat the colored 
 people ; thrust them out as outlaws, while the 
 Christian religion inculcates the principles of 
 love and equality, and permits no distinction of 
 person nor of color." 
 
 " The Protestants appear more intolerant in 
 this respect than the Catholics," observed Alva- 
 rez. 
 
 " The oppression of intolerance will corrupt 
 and demoralize any people, as history shows," 
 added Hinango. " Tolerance and humanity will 
 elevate any people, and any class. Brazil's bet- 
 ter future is founded upon the tolerance which 
 a man finds here, let him be of what religion or 
 of what color he may !" 
 
 The negro Gango interrupted the conversa- 
 tion, with the announcement that Mr. Vernon 
 was there, and wished to speak to Mr. Hinango. 
 
 " I will come directly ; show him to my room," 
 replied Ormur, and then said hurriedly to his 
 two companions : 
 
 " Dr. Thorfin has arranged an abode for you 
 both in the house where he lives. You, Sr. Al- 
 varez, will for the present remain his guest, until 
 you receive an answer from Bahia respecting the 
 fate of your sister ; you had better write to-day, 
 at once ; friend Robert will take care of your 
 letter." He allowed the unhappy fugitive no 
 time to express his grateful feelings, but left the 
 room, and hurried to the apartment where Mr. 
 Veiiion was waiting for him. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HINANGO S CONFESSIOJT 
 
 Mr. Vernon, partner of a European house in 
 Rio, greeted the ex-naval officer, Ormur Olafur 
 Hinango, with measured civility, and handed 
 him the open envelope which Dr. Thorfin had 
 already mentioned. 
 
 " 1 thank you for your kindness," began Hi- 
 nango. " I know, already, the circumstances 
 under which you have received this packet of 
 letters for me, and regret that my friends in 
 Europe have compromised me with you." 
 
 " And, also, rae and our house," remarked 
 Mr. Vernon. 
 
 " Until now, the seal of a letter in England, 
 and under British post regulations, has been an 
 inviolable sanctuary — at least, it has passed for 
 such ; and if my friends, relying upon this insti- 
 tution, have availed themselves of the kind 
 permission on your part, to send me letters under 
 your address, I beg, in their name, for your 
 indulgence, for forgiveness from yourself and 
 partners, and take upon myself all the conse- 
 quences of this affair. No one can, or will, ever 
 call you to account for an indiscretion, or what- 
 ever you may call it, committed by men in Lon- 
 don, who are entire strangers to you." 
 
 " 1 by no means came, Mr. Hinango, to re- 
 proach you with what has occurred. 1 should 
 not have said a word to you about it, if Dr. 
 Thorfin had not anticipated me. 1 come to you 
 as a friend; to a man who has been highly 
 recommended and accredited to us by our busi- 
 ness friends in Europe. What a future you are 
 rushing upon, Ormur ! What a path you are 
 pursuing ! Where will your efforts lead you I 
 To the fortress Do-Vilganhon ; to the patriots of 
 Rio Grande ; and, at length, to the wretchedness 
 of a joyless existence." 
 
 " I understand you, friend Vernon," returned 
 Hinango, slowly and seriously, " I thank you 
 for your warm interest. As regards my path, it 
 proceeds (like the aims and dealings of every 
 man) from within, as the unconditional conse- 
 quence of my convictions, of my perceptions, of 
 my self-consciousness as a man. You are now 
 aware of my position ; condemn me as a man of 
 business, explain to me that I evidently act 
 against my own interest, that I renounce my 
 claims to earthly happiness and peace, to do- 
 mestic life, and the enjoyment of terrestrial 
 felicity ; but do not break the staff" over me as a 
 man, for you can consider me from no othej 
 point of view. Judge, with a clea^ perception, 
 the " man' in rae." 
 
 '* Whom I honor, even although 1 am not able 
 to comprehend you," answered Vernon. " I am 
 aware of your former position in the Russian 
 service, and know that you might now be com- 
 mander of a frigate, if you had continued there. 
 1 know that you have sacrificed yourself for the 
 cause of the Poles, anu that you are sacrificing 
 yourself now for the cause of Italy and South 
 America; but what will be your fate i Do you 
 really hope, or believe, that you will outlive the 
 crisis of the political fermentation of our epoch .' 
 Do you expect to conquer before your death .' to 
 see the result of your efforts and endeavors 
 realized ?" 
 
 " ho l" answered Ormur, in a decif" tone
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 175 
 
 " In the lonely nights, in the gloomy solitude of 
 Bubterranean dungeons, I have surveyed the 
 history of the nations, so far as it is Icnown to us 
 through their annals. I, as a man, have ascer- 
 tained my position towards manl<ind. The de- 
 velopment of the nations from slavery to the 
 open struggle for freedom, to the confirmation of 
 their nationality, was never the work of a short 
 human life. The idea, however, of freedom, of 
 progress, of ennoblement, has been transmitted 
 from one epoch to another, by individual men, 
 who felt this vocation within them. With their 
 self-consciousness, the strength was, also, in- 
 creased in them, to tread their path, to bear their 
 lot, even to the grave at the foot of the scaffold. 
 Without a prospect of the realization of the idea, 
 whose ray penetrated them, their death was a 
 personal resignation, without claims to the ac- 
 knowledgements of their contemporaries." 
 
 " I comprehend you, and your resignation 
 shocks me. Do you know that men, from the very 
 countries for %vhich you sacrifice yourself, de- 
 spise you ? So called liberals, even exiles, who 
 have once been drawn, against their wills, into 
 the whirlpool of the revolutionary excitement 
 of their nation — exiles who do not know for 
 what they contended, and now regret their 
 ' youthful indiscretion' — despise you ; and would 
 laugh at you, if, in your banishment, you sunk 
 into poverty and misery." 
 
 " I know that ; I know that there are men who 
 think that I am indebted to their nation, because 
 I have written in their dead language ; others, 
 who boast that they have afforded me the oppor- 
 tunity to share the fame of having contended, 
 according to their views of entering into a spec- 
 ulation, in furtherance of their cause, which, 
 alas ! like so many other enterprises, " miscar- 
 ried." But, are such individual men, the ■ na- 
 tion,' for which I contended ? How little does 
 the scorn and contempt of individuals trouble 
 me, if I, knowing myself, have a clear con- 
 science? ' Each judges of another by himself — 
 this is an incontrovertible truth in the judge- 
 ment of men. Whoever, is incapable of making 
 any sacrifice for the cause of mankind — who- 
 ever always acts with calculation to his own 
 selfish interests, will not understand me, cannot 
 judge me correctly — he only sees himself in me." 
 
 " And you cannot, and will not, turn aside 
 from your path .' betake yourself to repose 
 somewhere ? renounce all politics ? seek for 
 domestic happiness, and live in peace .'" 
 
 " What do we understand by Politics, Mr. 
 Vernon .' Is the cause of South America for- 
 eign to the cause of Kurope .' Is the principle 
 of freedom, which is struggling in iVIonte Video 
 and Rio Grande, different from the principle 
 for which hundreds in Italy and Poland ended 
 their lives in solitary dungeons ? Can I, as a 
 man, contemplate the cause of South America 
 with indifference, v/ithout contradicting myself, 
 when I look back upon Europe .' You ask, if I 
 will not seek repose somewhere, and enjoy do- 
 mestic happiness ? Do you believe, that the in- 
 tellectual force in me, as a force, will ever re- 
 pose, which can only be ' force' in movement, and 
 which impels me, because it is a part of my ex- 
 istence .' Will you command this pulse to stop .' 
 Well, then death ensues ! and the cessation of 
 my spiritual motions would be, moral death ! 
 Do you understand me now .'" 
 
 " Ever more and more ; but I also pity you i 
 you strive for a phantom !" 
 
 " Phantom !" exclaimed Hinango, suddenly 
 turning pale, and staring at a point beside him, 
 33 if he beheld something. He then recovered 
 himself, just as quickly and proceeded ; my 
 heart could be broken, the peace of my soul 
 could be destroyed, a " phantom" (in an entire 
 ly different sense, from that in which you mean 
 it, friend Vernon,) can hurl me into the grave, a 
 convulsion can end my life ; but not my faith 
 in humanity, 
 
 " Humanity '." repeated Mr, Vernon. " You 
 are in error ; there is no humanity ! What do 
 you call humanity .' the mass of the people, in 
 which each individual takes care of his per- 
 sonal interest, and troubles himself but little 
 about the fate of his neighbor ? Observe the. 
 bustle here in the Rua Direita, the throng in and 
 before the exchange ; do you call that humanity ? 
 Seek me out, from among them, one who would 
 not, this day, sell your whole so called humanity 
 to the devil for a per centage, if he could make 
 such a bargain." 
 
 " What have a multitude of brokers and 
 usurers to do with humanity .' Does the ex- 
 change represent humanity ? There are, to be 
 sure, nations who have no thought for any thing 
 but money ; but I will not, on that account, give 
 up all mankind," replied Hinango. 
 
 *' If you give a people their freedom," re- 
 turned Vernon *' they will only use it to make 
 money." 
 
 " You would say, they would sink into mate- 
 rialism !" interrupted Hinango, " and make for 
 themselves an idol, such as the Jewish nation 
 set up, when Moses freed them from tlie yoke of 
 Pharaoh. They worshipped the golden calf!" 
 
 " Very true ! and confirmed by examples in 
 the present time." 
 
 " But Moses perceived this abyss of ruin, and 
 gave laws to his people. He established the fu- 
 ture of his people upon religion, nationality, and 
 love of country. And on this basis alone, will 
 the welfare of mankind bloom and flourish ! on 
 no other ! none ! All other means of deliver- 
 ance will be eternally fruitless ! But the rep- 
 resentation, the government of a nation, must 
 set up a higher aim than the miserable one of 
 making money in the service of the golden 
 calf ! Intellectual and moral development 
 through science and art, and self-sacrifice from 
 love of country, are higher aims than to make 
 money for money's sake. The government of a 
 nation, that disowns the higher aims of human- 
 ity, is unworthy of the freedom in the element 
 of which it supports an existence. The liigh- 
 est power, is the human mind ! You may see 
 me imprisoned, in chains, and in a capote, (as 
 
 1 have already worn them ) but you will 
 
 never see doubt in humanity gain the ascen- 
 dancy over me, for I believe in God I and know 
 myself as a man. 
 
 " Mr. Fitz told me," continued he, after a 
 pause, there was a small schooner brig lying 
 here, suitable for me, but under what flag, I for- 
 got to ask him. I believe she is called the 
 Vanda or Vesta. Have you heard of her .' 
 
 " And you will really go to sea again ? prob- 
 ably towards Rio Grande .'" 
 
 " We will say towards Africa again. In gene- 
 ral, Mr. Vernon, I beg you, from henceforth, to
 
 176 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 npsak of me as a ncgfo trader, for the people on 
 the exchange will comprehend that sooner. I 
 Rm looking for a vessel here ; well, tell them 
 that I purchase it, as every other vessel here is 
 purchased, for the slave trade." 
 
 " That will be the best way. In case any one 
 belonging to government makes allusion to your 
 position, in consequence of the opened letters, 1 
 will give such explanations that even these shall 
 serve me *o disguise your speculation, as th4t of 
 a negro trader, as captain of a slave ship. 
 
 " Admirable ! so be it ! At least, many will 
 more readily believe that I am speculating as a 
 negro trader, than that, as a man, I sacrifice my- 
 self for a ' phantom 1' " 
 
 " I Will inquire about the Vesta, or whatever 
 the vessel is called," said Mr. Vernon, and can, 
 from this time, under the mask of serving you 
 in your negro speculation, be at your call unmo- 
 lested, in case you wish to purchase this or ano- 
 ther vessel." 
 
 The friends conversed for awhile, on indifTcr- 
 cnt subjects, and then separated ; Mr. Vernon 
 to pass the holiday somewhere in the country, 
 while Hinango hastened to read his newly re- 
 ceived letters and documents. 
 
 -"»'**^#^^♦vf.® #*y*^*-..--. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BENHORA GRACIA. 
 
 The young lady, whom we observed on that 
 eventful moonlight night, reading the " Pyscho- 
 logy of Love," in her pavilion, sat, on the morn- 
 ing in which the above conversation took place 
 at the Hotel du Nord, on her divan, with open 
 windows and doors, at the Gloria. 
 
 The fresh, cooling Seabreeze played around 
 und kissed her charming neck, while it blew 
 single locks of her equally charming, rich, dark 
 hair, off into the room, like streamers of a line 
 of battle ship, and then letting them fall, it took 
 Up the neighboring locks, to play with them in 
 the same inanner. 
 
 The innocent, but enviable Seabreeze ! 
 
 The lady was dressed in a full white robe, 
 with Grecian sleeves, which only in part covered 
 the shoulders, and was girt at the back, while 
 the front remained loosely enveloping the ideal 
 form of youthful beauty. 
 
 She was sitting, occupied with a very proaaic 
 employment, by a basket of freshly waslied little 
 stockings, part her own, part for the little girl 
 whom wo left in undisturbed slumber the other 
 night, and who was now walking about the gar- 
 den under the care of the negress Maria. 
 
 .Senhora Gracia,' for so the youthful mother 
 called herself, wag busied mending stockings. 
 This pastime of domestic wives on the European 
 Continent has, as it appears, a peculiar charm, 
 since it atfords the thoughts a wide latitude, and 
 symbolically represents the social destiny of 
 woman, " to fill up a gap here and there." 
 
 Although a negress, according to our views, 
 could have accomplished the business just as 
 handily, it appears, notwithstanding, to belong 
 
 ♦The Spanieh Oracia, instead of the Turtuguese Qraga. 
 
 to the virtues of a domestic wife, to attend licr- 
 self to the rents which must evidently exist lit 
 consequence of a wearing contact with the earth, 
 so far as the feet touch the earth in stockings. 
 The employment, however, was by no means 
 Brazilian, since a Brazilian lady hardly puts on 
 a pair of shoes a second time, to say notliing of 
 having her stockings mended, or mending them 
 herself, if they should need it. The lives of 
 women in Brazil, resemble the lives of the 
 'I'urkish ladies in their harems, only with ths 
 difference, that the various wives of a man in 
 Brazil do not know each other, and are shut up 
 separately ; but, on the other hand, they pass the 
 time of loneliness in the favorite * costume dU 
 in^tier,^ that is, in a light negligee, and mostly, 
 even vvithout stockings. 
 
 The so called destiny of woman, as the pro- 
 perty of her husband, for which neither intellect 
 nor heart are called into requisition, makes this 
 mode of life extremely " practical." 
 
 The existence of women sinks to an animal 
 vegetation, in which many find their " domestic 
 happiness," and distinguish themselves, as " ex- 
 emplary wives," by mending their husband's 
 stockings. 
 
 Horses' hoofs clattered upon the rocky path up 
 the hill, and stopped at the gate of the chacara. 
 
 "That must be the .Sr. Ingles!" said Sra. 
 Gracia, half aloud, to the negress Anna, who was 
 dusting the furniture in the room, and a heavi- 
 ness came over the heart of the young lady which 
 she did not know how to account for. 
 
 The negress Maria, who was in the garden 
 with the child, had already opened the gate, 
 which allorded an insight, through the open door 
 of the pavilion, to the \Yindow under which Sra. 
 Gracia sat on the divan. The pavilion, shaded 
 by mangoes, jacarandas, and gigantic bananas, 
 with tropical flowers of strange form blooming 
 around, enclosed, like a magic frame, the living 
 
 picture 'in the back ground, the bay, with its 
 
 colossal rocks. 
 
 " Is the Seiiora at home ?" inquired the young 
 gentlemen, for it was Mr. Robert Walker, who 
 had just dismounted from the saddle and given 
 his horse to the care of a negro who attended him. 
 
 A significant movement of the negress towards 
 the female in the middle ground, already in- 
 formed him of the answer by anticipation, and 
 Mr. Robert involuntarily drew near the pavilion. 
 The lady had left her seat, and appeared at the 
 door. Both seemed to observe each other with 
 a single comprehensive glance, and ki conse- 
 quence of some inward emotion, inexplicable to 
 themselves, appeared to have lost, for the mo- 
 ment, the usual conventional unconstraint. 
 
 The young lady beheld a youth of some twen- 
 ty years, whose form was as symmetrically noble 
 as his deportment was imposing. A fine profile, 
 with an expression of seriousness and dignity 
 about the well formed lips, harmonized with the 
 deep blue, richly radiant eye, more striking in 
 contrast with the black hair and eyelashes. 
 The glances of both encountered each other! 
 
 Why did the youth lose, at the moment, that 
 ease and self-possession which at all other times 
 made a part of his nature, and was so peculiar 
 to him .' Was it a movement of the senti- 
 ment in the inward depths of that female heart, 
 (which like tlie magnetic fluid operating like a 
 ray) involuntarily flowing out of her soul, and
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 177 
 
 injfstcriously penetrating into the depths of hia 
 nature ? Who can .mswer this question .' It is 
 even doubtful whether she herself ever arrived 
 at a clpai understanding of it. 
 
 To love at first sight, as when a woman sees a 
 man, or a man a woman, and immediately " falls 
 in love,'' is one of those absurdities in the usual 
 modes of speech, which contradict all pschyo- 
 logical probabilities and the nature of the human 
 heart. A person may, at first sight, make an 
 inexplicable and indiscribable impression upon 
 another, may awaken a sentiment or an emotion 
 that is not to be expressed in words, wliicli may 
 afterwards ripen into love ; but to call this mo- 
 mentary emotion love, would be ridiculous. 
 
 There are moments in the excited inward life, 
 in wliich it seems to us as if we find ourselves, 
 for the second time, in the place that surrounds 
 us ; as if we had, at some previous time, seen the 
 landscape which is about us, while we recognise 
 the impossibility tliat such could have been the 
 case. It seems to us, as if we had already seen 
 tliis or that person with whom we come in con- 
 tact, somewhere before ; that we had heard the 
 voice at some former time, whose tones we now 
 hear, and, nevertheless, no such meeting has ever 
 before taken place on earth. It seems to us, upon 
 encountering the glance of an eye, as if it pene- 
 trated inlo the innermost depths of our hearts, as 
 ii'itreidthe hieroglyphics of our souls. Both 
 Robert and the lady found themselves there in 
 such a moment, without being clearly conscious 
 of the sentiments which we have just mentioned. 
 
 At length Robert felt yiat it would only be 
 proper to speak to the lady. He uttered in a 
 broken manner, a compliment from Sr. iWoreto 
 and from his uncle, witii the surmise that the 
 former had probably intimated to her the design 
 of his visit. 
 
 " .Sr. iVIoreto sent me word, last evening, that 
 you — that a — that a relvtive of .Sr. Thomson — 
 
 a young Englishman please to come in," said 
 
 tlie young lady interrupting herself; " please to 
 be seated. Anna, bring a chair for the gentle- 
 man — perhaps the draught of wind is disagreea- 
 ble to you ?" While she uttered these fragments 
 of conversation with an exceedingly gentle voice, 
 and a charming embarrassment, the slender 
 British youth had entered the apartment, and 
 now replied, with somewhat more presence of 
 mind : 
 
 " On the contrary, Seiiora, I thank you. I like 
 the draught of air here in this room." He then 
 appeared suddenly to recollect, that he might 
 h;ive expressed himself better, and remained po- 
 litely standing, until the .Seiiora )md placed her- 
 self upon her divan. 
 
 " Pray, sit down — wait a moment," said she, 
 without knowing why or wherefore she wished 
 that the young Briton would wait, and still loss 
 how she came upon the idea of uttering the re- 
 quest. 
 
 Robert took a seat, and his eye fell upon the 
 piano. 
 
 " You are musical, I presume !" said he, for 
 the sake of asking a question. 
 
 " I am a great lover of music, and occasionally 
 practice on the piano ; whether I am musical — 
 that is, whether I possess musical talent, I 
 
 doubt " 
 
 " This very reply leads me to suspect that you 
 possess peculiar talent, for whoever in any de- 
 23 
 
 partment of art has no talent, generally consid- 
 ers himself very talented." 
 
 " I have not, for some years, had much time 
 and leisure to occupy myself with music. When 
 one is married, and obliged to attend to one's 
 children, there remains little time to indulge the 
 inclination for music." 
 
 " I see there the dearest little girl," inter- 
 rupted Robert, " probably your sister .'" 
 
 " It is my daughter !" replied the lady, w'ith a 
 self-complacent smile. 
 
 " Impossible !" exclaimed the youth, while he 
 observed the little one, " It cannot be your 
 daughter." 
 
 " How 30, sir ? Why not ?" said the mother 
 smiling. 
 
 " Because — because— because you are yet a 
 ciiild yourself," replied he very hastily, after he 
 got past the " because." 
 
 The young lady blushed, and could not again 
 restrain a smile. "Pardon me, sir," said she, with 
 an expression of naive unconstraint on her beau- 
 tiful Brazilian lips; "pardon me, I have been 
 married four years, and had three children ; two 
 alas ! are no more." 
 
 Robert was serious, almost vexed, for it ap- 
 peared to offend him, that the lady should take 
 him for a simpleton To explain to ourselves 
 the cause of this vexation, in the presence of 
 such an amiable young mother, we must men- 
 tion, beforehand, that .Senhora Gracia was mar- 
 ried in her thirteenth year, and had become the 
 mother of tliree children in the first tlu'ee years. 
 Robert Walker did not believe this truth, after 
 the lady had repeatedly assured him of it, and 
 we should hardly have believed it ourselves, 
 since the peculiarly maidenly timid nature of the 
 lady who sat there on the divan, and maintained 
 this " absurd" assertion, plainly contradicted it. 
 
 The expression, " have had three children," 
 not only peculiarly oH'ended the youth, but it 
 evidently embarrassed him, he had outgrown the 
 shoes in which he stepped — when he was told 
 that the " stork brought children," or that they 
 were " taken out of the well." 
 
 The " young girl of seventeen years," at the ut- 
 most, who took the liberty to assure him repeat- 
 edly that she was married, and had already had 
 three children, appeared evidently to desire to 
 jest with him ; he resolved, therefore, to break off 
 from the ticklish subject, and made the inquiry 
 whether the pavilion, which had been spoken 
 of by Senhor IVIoreto and iVIr. Thomson, was to 
 let. 
 
 " The pavilion ?" said the young lady, in 
 greater embarrassment than ever, " the pavilion 
 
 to let .' yes ! 1 believe not 1 
 
 have certainly expressed a wish pardon 
 
 me, I will " With this obscure fragmentary 
 
 reply, she had arisen, and laid her little hands 
 upon a pier table, on which stood two vases of 
 artificial flowers, under glass shades, but nothing 
 else that she could grasp at. " I will show you 
 the pavilion," added she at length, with extraor- 
 dinary quickness, and without any farther re- 
 mark, she ran past the young Briton into the 
 garden. 
 
 " What a wonderful prospect !" sighed Robert, 
 casting a glance around him, and looking upon 
 the ba\', which was alive with vessels and small 
 boats, and was spread out before him, enclosed 
 by the azure mountains.
 
 178 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " Does it please you here ?" inquired the little 
 matron, in a tone that involuntarily expressefl 
 the earnest wish, that the young man might be 
 pleased there, and she just as involuntai'ily felt, 
 that lier tone had betrayed something which, 
 guileless and pure as it might be, she would ra- 
 ther not have betrayed, as she herself did not 
 even Icnow what it was. But she became sud- 
 denly extremely well pleased, when the youth, 
 surprised by the situation and prospect of the 
 garden, made that exclamation. 
 
 Was it the generous feeling of joy in her so 
 heavily oppressed heart, which followed the dis- 
 covery that a being, endowed v/ith sensibility, 
 enjoyed with her this prospect, the charm of 
 this delightful scenery .' She had neither time, 
 nor desire, to examine long the cause of this 
 childish joy. It pleased her that the prospect 
 suited the youtli so well — that was enough. 
 
 Anna now brought the key to the pavilion in 
 question, that stood on a similar terrace, about 
 twenty steps distant from the other. She opened 
 the diior, and then the window : the prospect 
 was the same that the youth had jnst found so 
 charming, only more unrestricted, because the 
 pavilion in which they now were, did not oc- 
 cupy a portion of the landscape. 
 
 " Wonderful ! incomparalile !" sighed Robert, 
 who stretched his eyes over the garden, and 
 groups of trees on the slopes of the hills, to 
 where a great part of the suburb of da Gloria 
 lay at his feet ; and far and still farther was ex- 
 tended the indescribable landscape composition 
 of nature. The young lady stood near him at a 
 window, and being larger than she, he looked 
 sideways, down upon the nearest object in the 
 foreground. It was her waving hair, floating 
 around her neck. 
 
 " Ah ! it is so beautiful here !" he again 
 sighed, in all the purity of his youthful heart. 
 
 The young lady was silent, but her silence 
 was expressive. 
 
 " It depends then on your consent, Senhora," 
 began Robert, after a long, long pause, during 
 which he admired the wonderful prospect — " it 
 depends on your consent, whether I am to enjoy 
 the honor and happiness of inhabiting this pa- 
 vilion." 
 
 " On my consent ?" whispered the lady, almost 
 inaudibly, though she could not explain, even to 
 herself, why she had not spoken aloud. 
 
 " I must say, frankly and decidedly, what 
 
 what stipulation I am compelled to make, Sen- 
 hor," said she, louder, and very hastily. 
 
 ** I am ready, Senhora, tf> accept your stipula- 
 tions, and will strive to fulfil them punctually." 
 
 She stepped back into the apartment, and 
 pointed to a divan, while she took a seat herself. 
 
 " Sit down, Senhor !" said she, with a tone of 
 decision that appeared distant in comparison to 
 the former tone of her voice, although not less 
 musical. "I live here alone, Senhor, alone ! with 
 my child, and two negresses as attendants. My 
 husband is absent; 1 expect him in two months, 
 if not sooner. I may, perhaps, be able to dis- 
 close to you, hereafter, the circumstances that 
 have induced me to shut myself up here 
 Enough ! I am here in danger — but in what 
 respect, I cannot explain to you to-day. I wished 
 for a ' man' in my neighborhood, as the occupant 
 of this pavilion ; a man to whom I could confide 
 myself — to whom I could entrust my life. You 
 
 are as strange to me as any man on earth ; but 
 my uncle knows your uncle — both are honorable 
 men. You are the nephew of Senhor Thomson, 
 whom I know myself. Notwithstanding you are 
 strange to me, I feel unbounded confidence in 
 you." Her lip trembled, and her eye appeared 
 dim. " Will you be my protector ? I am in 
 danger !" she repeated, in a tone of melancholy 
 and subdued sorrow. 
 
 The expression of the lovely countenance, that 
 with nearly every word of this declaration con- 
 veyed the impression of a different sentiment, 
 seized as powerfully upon the youth, as the con- 
 fidence, with which the lady honored him, 
 aroused his manly pride. 
 
 Without allowing him time to answer, (which 
 would, besides, have been extremely difficult for 
 him,) she continued : " If" you come here, let 
 it remain an impenetrable mystery who I am — 
 what my name is — let it be a secret, as well to 
 you as to the world, until I myself discover it to 
 you. No person, except one friend, whom you 
 probably possess, must visit you. No one ! and if 
 he should accidentally know me, he must neither 
 tell you who I am, nor any one else. Should he 
 disturb my incognito, I will immediately leave 
 my pavilion. You are musical, 1 presume 1" 
 
 " Why do you presume that, Senhora .'" in- 
 quired Robert, with all the naivety that was, at 
 times, at his command. 
 
 " I have guessed it." 
 
 " I confess that I am passionately fond of play- 
 ing on the piano, and should order an instrument 
 here at once." 
 
 " That is what I wished to speak about," 
 interrupted the lady. " Ask Senhor Moreto to 
 send your instrument here ; and it must come in 
 while I am invisible — while I shut myself up in 
 my house. And now, yet one more stlpuUition. 
 1 will point out to you a single melody, which 
 you must nut play — only one. Besides that, I 
 shall be gratified to hear you play what you like. 
 But one melody you must not play, which you, 
 perhaps, might casually hit upon, and thereby 
 increase my danger. It is a well known elegicai 
 composition, called: The Last Accords of Weber."' 
 
 " I will most punctually comply with these 
 conditions. You have honored me with your 
 confidence — I shall know how to prize it, and 
 hope to show myself worthy of it." He uttered 
 the last words with a self-consciousness of his 
 pure heart, that by no means escaped the young 
 lady. 
 
 " My confidence assures you that I am con- 
 vinced of this beforehand," replied she, vvith an 
 expression of oppressed womanhood, wbich 
 beautifies every noble woman, and imparts the 
 glow of loveliness to even less beautiful forms. 
 A thought ajjpeared suddenly to strike her ; she 
 looked before her, without, in reality, seeing any 
 tiling — then laid the forefinger of her right hand 
 on her rosy under lip, and said : " You are the 
 nephew of Mr. Thomson, of Bota Fogo ; my 
 physician. Dr. Thorfin, a European, is your un- 
 cle's physician. How will it be possible to main- 
 tain my incognito, if he learns where you live !" 
 
 " Dr. Thorfin !" replied Robert, " I have seen 
 him already ! one of his friends came from Bue- 
 nos Ayres with me — a certain Mr. Hinango !" 
 
 " Hinango !" cried the young lady, and hei 
 countenance lost its color ; " Hinango the priva 
 teer, the Russian naval officer .'"
 
 C L R E S . 
 
 179 
 
 , " The same !" replied Robert, evidently sur- 
 prised by the inward emotion vvliich this name 
 excited in her. " Perhaps you l<now this man .' 
 forgive the inquiry " 
 
 ** I — I know — 1 know this man by sight — as a 
 countryman of my husband's 1 have, how- 
 ever, never poken a syllibte to him — never !" 
 
 It was now tlie youth's turn to become pale. 
 He shuddered inwardly ; he pressed his riding 
 whip with both hands, as if he wished to break 
 it ; a sudden connexion of ideas reminded him 
 of a warning of Hinango in resjiect to ' Madame 
 Closting.' His pulse seemed to stop, for there 
 was something inexplicable in the alarm of the 
 young lady, and in the connexion ol ideas. 
 
 " I have never spoken to him— never!" con- 
 tinued the latter, with her eyes fixed on the 
 ground ; " I have merely seen him." 
 
 " Do you suppose that he knows your present 
 abode, and that by this means ^" 
 
 " No !" returned she hastily, ** he certainly 
 does not know where I am now; it would not 
 even interest him." 
 
 " Hinango would be the very friend, whom I 
 would have wished to invite— I will not do it." 
 
 ** Why not !" inquired the lady, with evident 
 embarrassment : " I will speak to Dr. Thorfin ; I 
 am firmly convinced that neither of them would 
 ever say who I am, if I aslied them not to, for 
 both are honorable men, I beg you, also, not 
 to inform either Dr. Thorfin, or the privateer, 
 where you live, until I have spoke to the doctor. 
 You understand me." 
 
 " Perfectly! 1 thank you for your confidence," 
 said Robert, with an oppressed heart, and held 
 out his right hand in honest English style, to 
 the Brazilian lady, who seized it and — convul- 
 sively pressed it. Suddenly blushing, for fear 
 of betraying her embarrassment to the youth, 
 she sought for words, and said ; 
 
 " Farewell ! inhabit this house, if it suits you ; 
 consider my request, which I make a condition, 
 and gratify me by 3'our visits — as often as you 
 are willing — to afford a sufferer the consolation 
 of your presence. Adieu !" 
 
 She hastily withdrew, and hurried into her 
 pavilion. 
 
 Robert stood for a moment, as if paralysed, 
 and then walked through the garden to the gate, 
 that was bolted on the inside. Old Anna opened 
 it, and he mounted his horse, and rode thought- 
 fully back to the city. 
 
 Madame Closting had hardly reached the divan 
 in her pavilion, when, without being able to de- 
 clare the cause even before God, she was seized 
 with an inward convulsion, burst into bitter, 
 scalding tears, and sobbed aloud, as old Anna 
 related and affirmed years afterwards. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF " YOUNG EUROPE." 
 
 Dr. Thorfin entered Hinango's apartment, to 
 invite him and his companions to take a walk. 
 He found his friend with the unfolded letters 
 near him, and with tears in his eyes. 
 
 " Konarski has been arrested, and is under 
 
 Russian torture," sighed Hinango, and handed a 
 letter to t!ie doctor. " That you may better un- 
 derstand its contents, 1 will first explain to you 
 the position of this friend. 
 
 " Simon Konarski wsa twenty-two years old 
 when the revolution Broke out in Poland. He 
 was, at that time, a subordinate officer, and a 
 young man ol distinguished education. He was 
 soon advanced to the rank of captain, and re- 
 ceived the cross of honor for his personal brave- 
 ry. He shared the fate of his corps, and reached 
 France as a fugitive ; but his spirit remained 
 in Poland, and his glowing patriotism allowed 
 him no rest in e.xile. In the spring of 1S33 
 he arrived, incognito, with many other Poles, 
 by the way of Germany, in Poland, where a 
 partisan, or guerilla war, was begun, with the 
 design of gradually bringing the whole of Po- 
 land again under arms. The bold enterprise 
 failed; arrests and executions followed, and en- 
 tire villages were ordered out to apprehend the 
 * rebels,' who were hunted, like stags, by peasants 
 and hounds IMany were hung and shot ; many 
 were escorted to Siberia. Konarski's flight bor- 
 dered on the miraculous, and one day he only 
 owed his deliverance to the sympathy of a Rus- 
 sian oflicer, who searched the country house 
 where he was concealed. The officer took the 
 owner of the house aside, and whispered in his 
 ear, ' I am one of the followers of Mouravieft';* 
 you understand me ! save your friend.' Konar- 
 ski arrived at Antwerp, by way of Dantzig, when 
 the expedition of Savoy v/as in preparation, and 
 came to me at Nyon, on the Lake of Geneva, 
 where I was occupied, at that time, incognito, as 
 an emissary of the expedition. I passed some 
 days there with him, which I shall never forget. 
 The expedition failed, and the society of ' Young 
 Europe ' arose, like a phenix, from the ashes of 
 the bivouack fires in Savoy. Konarski, long 
 since familiarized with the idea of a ' lioly alli- 
 ance of nations,' resolved soon again to return 
 to Poland as an ' apostle of humanity.' With 
 unexampled diligence and perseverance, he 
 learned the trade of a watchmaker in Switzer- 
 land and France, that he might more securely 
 undertake his journey under the mask of this 
 profession. Prepared, in all respects, for his 
 mission, he went to London, in the year IS.3.5, 
 where the central committee of ' Young Poland,' 
 as a division of ' Young Europe,* confided to him 
 the mission that he desired. He first went to 
 Cracow, in the strictest incognito, towards the 
 end of the same year. Prepared, at every step, 
 for dungeons, tortures, and the scaflbld, he tra- 
 versed Volhynia, Podolia, and Lithuania — in 
 short, all the provinces of Poland, which, since 
 half a century, had been governed by the Russian 
 knout. Everywhere he found the spirit which 
 he looked for ; the field of the heart in which to 
 scatter the seed, that, moistened with blood, will 
 one day spring up in a pure future ! An apostle, 
 the like of whom our association has bai'dly 
 found, he wrought, with immense eflect, upon 
 the hearts that thirsted for consolation. Nature 
 had imprinted on his brow the stamp of his 
 exalted vocation — a noble, open countenance, 
 with the flashing glance of a deep blue eye, cool- 
 ness and presence of mind in danger, sincerity 
 
 * One of the heads of the Russian conspiracy, in the 
 year isaa.
 
 ISO 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 and animation in intercourse with his friends, 
 and heart-stirring eloquence in the secret assem- 
 blages of the association, united to form a person 
 who awakened unbounded confidence in kindred 
 souls. Endowed with divine power, he ful- 
 filled his vocation of strengthening his country- 
 men in faith in the resurrection of the human 
 race. He turned, also, to the female sex, in the 
 consciousness of the exalted worth and the im- 
 mense influence of woman upon the rising gene- 
 ration, to impress upon the heart of the mother 
 that she should infirse into the suckling at her 
 breast, love of fatherland, faith in God and hu- 
 manity, and hatred to\Yards all tyranny. His 
 persona! appearance, which I have described, 
 facilitated his entrance among all classes of the 
 people. Not only susceptible youth and females, 
 where he approached them, but, also, priests 
 »nd functionaries of the government, and officers 
 of the army, joined our association. Many of- 
 ficers and functionaries of high rank, manifested 
 the spirit that found harmony and fellowship in 
 them. He wrought thus for about two years 
 and a half, sought for in every quarter by the 
 Russian secret police, and only protected by the 
 spirit ofthe association, which efficiently .opposed 
 the element of treachery, and eluded the strictest 
 inquiry. At length, however, his fate has over- 
 taken him — that awful fate, to which he always 
 looked forward. Read this letter from London." 
 
 Thorfin was profoundly impressed by this com- 
 Liunication, which, as it appeared, shook the 
 heart of his friend in its raost secret depths, as if 
 had also newly awakened the sense of his own 
 position in South America. 
 
 " He was apprehended in the month of May, 
 this year, 1S3S, in the neighborhood of Wilna," 
 Dr. Thorpin read, " after he had so lon» suc- 
 ceeded, with unexampled adroitness, in etu-ding 
 the embittered Russian seci'et police. 
 
 " .Ml those who had been in personal contact 
 with him, were, very naturally, liable to the same 
 persecutions; but, according to the organization 
 of our association, the discovery of the confede- 
 rates is, thank God ! difficult. 
 
 " He, as well as his fellow-prisoners, are sub- 
 jected to the torture, with all its horrors, to ex- 
 tort confessions, in order to renew the arrests. 
 
 " Konarski nndergoes tortures of a barbarity 
 which characterises the RiHsion government. 
 Not only the knout is employed to extort con- 
 fessions from him, (wbich can be obtained from 
 him alone,) but the tortures of the middle ages, 
 with all their inconceivable suffe^nngs, were ex- 
 hausted upon him. His fingers have been torn 
 out of joint with pincers, and iron nails driven 
 into the flesh under his fingernails. He endures 
 such martyrdom, and holds his peace! Burning 
 sealing-wax has been dropped in the open wounds 
 made by the knout. He endures morally, even 
 when he faints from prostration of physical 
 strength. Until the present time, not a single 
 confession has passed his lips." 
 
 •' My God !" sighed Thorlin, " what a man !" 
 He read further : 
 
 " The sympathy and reverence which his fate 
 and his almost superhuman steadfastness have 
 prodnced among the Russians, resembles the 
 effect of his boldest activity among the Poles. ' 
 A Russian captain, on service to guard him, re- 
 solved to escape with him — to save Konarski. 
 A fellow prisoner, who was let into the plan, j 
 
 found it more advisable to commenJ hiraicK tn 
 the mercy of the emperor, and demeaned him- 
 self to be a traitor. The captain's name is 
 Koravieff; he was at once condemned to death,* 
 and Konarski, yet more deeply immersed in sub- 
 terranean dungeons, awaits still more inhuman 
 tortures." 
 
 " The Russian government does not yield to 
 Rosas in Buenos Ayres !" sighed Thorfin ; " but 
 meaner, if possible, than such barbarity in itself, 
 is the cowardice of the creatures of these go- 
 vernments, whodeny thcreality of such persecu- 
 tion. Every Russian ambassador, or his lowest 
 lackey or secretary, would deny it to our faces, 
 and maintain that this intelligence is false, that 
 there is no such torture in Russia ; while the same 
 creatures would gladly avail themselves of an 
 opportunity to assist in delivering us up, to ob- 
 tain thereby an order, or a better post. While 
 Rosas reitei-ated two dozen times in every num- 
 ber of his otficiai Gaceta de Comercio, his cui'se, 
 "Mueran los salvagos IJnitarios ;" his ambassador 
 here denies that there i^ any political persecu- 
 tion in the Argentine republic. Fugitives by 
 hundreds land upon the coast of Brazil to elude 
 the executioner's axe of Rosas, and, notwith- 
 standing, the friends of the Gaucho here deny 
 that a man has ever been executed in Uueno* 
 Ayres for political crimes.'*' 
 
 " Absolutism and slavery," remarked Hinan- 
 go, " continue always as consistent in their ope- 
 ration in politics, as in marriage without love. 
 Here is the same case that we touched upon last 
 evening. A slave of Rosas, or ofthe emperor o! 
 Russia, with stars and orders, will as steadily and 
 firmly deny the barbarity of his master, as a wife 
 in a ne%v hat or shawl denies the blows which 
 she herself has received from her husband. Who 
 can explain these absurdities of the demoraliza- 
 tion of all legalized slavery .' Have you read 
 this part ?" he asked, pointing to some lines in 
 the letter. Dr. Thorlin read: "Awaking from 
 a swoon, after such torture, Konarski turned to- 
 wards his executioner, and cried : ' Wretch ! I 
 have already declared to you, I know nothing ! I 
 amacquainted with nobody I Am I guilty.' Well! 
 I have at least no accomplices I' He often said 
 to the governor, who wished to persuade him ti 
 confers : • Seek for new torments ! find out a 
 yet more horrible torture, and we shall see 
 wliether yoa can extort a single syllable from 
 me.' The governor, a hardened servant of 
 tyranny, proverbially known for his obduracy, 
 related this expression of Konarski, and added: 
 ' The man must be of iron !' and Konarski's fate 
 and his unexampled steadfastness, became known 
 in this manner among the Russians."! 
 
 * According to hiter inteJJigence comlucted to Siberia, 
 
 i SimoD Konarski was exeL-uleJ at XNilDa^ou theiTih 
 of February, 1^39. His death wae such as ins character, 
 bis life, and the spirit of the association that inspireU 
 him, would lead us to expect. "With similar traiKiaillUy 
 oi soul, as, some years later, the two Baiultery^^at Coseu 
 za.tfl) in Italy, and like the three brothers i'izarro, who, 
 as apostles of humaAity, were executed in Buenos Ayres, 
 he sarw bis open grave with a smile, and looked d'Jratk 
 firmly in the face. 
 
 .\ pamphlet, " Quatrirme Anniversaire de Ift Mort tie 
 Sitooa Konarski, celebree a Londres le 27 Kverier. 1843, 
 Paris, imprimeric de F. H Briard, Rue des Six Jolons, 
 84", contains many interesting particulars, as a contri'iu- 
 tion to tbe history of our time. 
 
 a See-'KicoltideiFratelli Baudiera et dei loro Compag 
 ill di Mai-tirio in Cosen/.a, il 35 J ugiio, ld44, etc., etc 
 Farigi Wiart, Editore. Via d'Enghien, lU, 19. 1946.]
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 181 
 
 Horatio and Alvarez came in, to inquire when 
 they should take their walk. Hiriango hurried 
 to complete his toilet, and gave to his two com- 
 panions one of the letters, written in French, to 
 impart to tliem the fate of Konarski. 
 
 The leaf trembled in Horatio's hand, whilst 
 Alvarez read the lines with him. Both inter- 
 rupted tlieir reading; with sigiis and exclama- 
 tions, until at length they looked at each other, 
 and Horatio said : '* Does it nut seem as if we 
 were reading a leaf out of the history of the first 
 martyrs of Christianity in the first century, before 
 the church overcame this spirit, and sought to 
 bury it in forms ?" 
 
 '• What a spirit must lie at the foundation of 
 this association of" Young Europe," and prevail 
 in its apostles, when it counts such men as this 
 among its martyrs !" sighed Alvarez. *' And 
 ■what fate should 1 have si)ared, and our Dolores, 
 if the slaves of Rosas had discovered us, and con- 
 ducted us to the prisons in Buenos Ayres I" 
 
 Hinango re-entered, prepared for the walk. Al- 
 var« z hurried up to him, and pressed him to his 
 heart. The friends left the hotel, and walked, 
 under Dr. Thorfin's guidance, to the " Passeio 
 Publico," the public garden of the city of Rio, 
 with a terrace on the shore of the bay, present- 
 ing shady alleys, and a prospect of the won- 
 derful Organ Mountains. They met there, at 
 the appointed hour, the " air pump controller," 
 Mr. Fitz, in his invariable good humor, who 
 gave them this rendezvous, for inspecting toge- 
 ther the schooner brig Vesta, which he had re- 
 commended to the ex-Russian naval officer, as a 
 privateer for Rio Grande, or as a slave trader for 
 Angola and Loango, according to either use that 
 Hinango might make of it, which was quite in- 
 different to the astronomer. 
 
 6 .f^^'.f.f^.t^— 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE PARTNEa AND THE YOUNG SWISS. 
 
 Abd EI. Kader, the Congo servant of the 
 house of Rossbriick & Co., in the Rua da Al- 
 fandega, informed all the business people, on the 
 holiday morning, that the breakfast was ready, 
 and Mr. Doubly sent him into the cabinet of the 
 young man, who gave himself out for a certain 
 William Rossbriick, to invite him to breakfast 
 likewise. The "[gentleman " seemed of the opin- 
 ion that he should compromise himself less, if he 
 spoke a word to a " nigger " than to a clerk, and 
 asked the servant when filr. Ros-sbriick or Mr. 
 Dumpling (a pai'tner in the concern) would come 
 home. 
 
 " Don't know," answered the negro ; " they at 
 chacara — both senhors — ^far away — in San Chris- 
 tova. Be sure to come Monday— be here early 
 Monday." 
 
 The gentleman seemed to consider what he 
 should do, and Abd el Kader repeated his invi- 
 tatioo to breakfast. 
 
 " I shall not come ; I will not breakfast 
 
 with ," he grumbled, suppressing tlie words 
 
 that wavered upon his tongue, and turning his 
 respectable back upon the negro, who did not 
 fcjonor him long with the contemplation of the 
 
 faceless latitude of his body, but withdrew, to 
 carrc to his young masters, who were already 
 assembled around the covered table, the result 
 of his mission. 
 
 " Then he may let it alone !" said Mr. Dou- 
 bly, and all loolted intently at each other. After 
 the conclusion of the breakfast, the young men 
 made their toilet, and left the liouse, to enioy 
 the aromatic air of the environs. Some of tliem 
 desired that the dinrier should not be kept wait- 
 ing for them, as they were going to visit Prayi 
 Grande.* 
 
 Mr. Doubly was left at home alone, and sat 
 reading a volume of poetical poems, written by 
 a young Eurojiean, when the ** gentleman " came 
 out of his room door, which admitted of a view 
 into the interior of Mr. Doubly's apartment. " I 
 am satisfied," thought he, interru]iting his read- 
 ing, " that this young European will write no 
 political poetry !" 
 
 The "gentleman" stared at the clerk, who 
 looked up from his book and into his eyes, but 
 bade him no good morning ; he only pressed his 
 patent gloves a little deeper between the lingers, 
 and left the room and the house without saying 
 a word. 
 
 " Go to the devil ! and greet your gentlemen 
 in their private hell !" muttered the young man, 
 as the gentleman slammed the door of the gal- 
 lery behind him, and stumbled down the steps. 
 
 Where the stranger went to, who called him- 
 self'Mr. William Rossbriick, whether he sought 
 a breakfast in some hotel, or calie, was indiflerent 
 in the highest degree to the young man who 
 guai'ded the house of Rossbriick &. Co. An 
 hour afterwards, there was a tap at the door 
 which divided the corridor from the steps. Abd 
 el Kader opened it ; the gentleman walked in 
 again, did not even look around him, (while the 
 negro observed him from head to loot,) and re- 
 tired to his cabinet 
 
 The forenoon passed off, and it was two 
 o'clock ; the table was covered for dinner, and a 
 friend of young Doubly appeared, whom he had 
 invited to keep him company. The negro in- 
 formed the gentleman that dinner was ready ; 
 " 1 shall not come !" muttered he, in the same 
 surly tone with which he had declined the 
 breakfast, and Abd el Kader again brought the 
 refusal to yoiing Doubly. 
 
 " Only wait !" said he, half aside to himself; 
 " 1 see now who I have to deal with ! If you 
 feel too good to sit at table with us, I will show 
 you that I am at home here. Wait now !" 
 
 The guest of the clerk, a»young Italian, direc- 
 tor of a musical chapel in Rio, learned superfi- 
 cially who was in the cabinet, and took as little 
 notice of the unknown as Mr. Doubly did, apai't 
 from the indirect ofience. 
 
 " Do you know that the Scandinavian is here 
 again .'" inquired the Italian, as they seated 
 themselves at the table. 
 
 " I have already sent my card to him at the 
 Hotel du Nord, as 1 could not go out to-day to 
 call on him," reijlied Mr. Doubly. " He is an 
 early friend of my foimer principal, in whose 
 society 1 became acquainted with him. I would 
 gladly have invited him to-day, but my present 
 principal is al'raid of being compromised in case 
 
 » Opposite to the shore of the city, a favorite place of 
 recreation.
 
 1S2 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 he entors this house. Even hig name frightens 
 him, if he reads it in the European newspapers." 
 
 " I must lieep away from him, on account of 
 my situation," said the Signore Maestro, as he 
 ate his soup. ** They would suspect that I be- 
 longed to the association of ' La Giovine Italia,' 
 and displace me — take my situation from me; 
 and that would surely be dreadful." 
 
 " As concerns myself," returned the young 
 Swiss, " I had just as iief it wonld be known 
 here that I belong to ' Young Switzerland,' and 
 be seen walking with an associate of ' Young 
 Europe,' as not; and if my jirincipal should 
 take my situation away from me on that account, 
 I should soon find anolher; and if Old Europe' 
 should ever break loose, 1 am convinced that we, 
 Swiss in Brazil, could equip a small man-of-war, 
 and a part of us would emlrark, provided the 
 crisis had come on in Europe, that must follow, 
 sooner or later." 
 
 " Certainly, when it comes to that, I Vfill do 
 my part ; but * prudence can do no harm ;' and I 
 promised my father to keep away from ' Young 
 Italy.' My father has a post at the Court of 
 Modena." 
 
 " There is the difference. I have promised 
 my father and myself to continue a Republican, 
 wherever 1 might be. You know that we Swiss, 
 here in Rio de Janeiro, maintain our love of 
 fatherland, by social confederation, in a Riflers' 
 Union. To be sure, there are many among them, 
 likew'ise, that would tremble to eat a plate of 
 soup with a confederate of ' Young Europe.' 
 There are cowards amongst all nations The 
 Swiss, however, have preserved, until this time, 
 the spirit of freedom; and if our republics are 
 insignificant, our people are not the most insig- 
 nificant in Europe. Switzerland yet contains 
 some republicans." 
 
 The two young people, (though, to be sure 
 with apparently different views of life,) chatted 
 away the hour at table, and a portion of the 
 afternoon, without quarrelling about their politi 
 cal differences. 
 
 Towards five o'clock, the stiff figure of the 
 gentleman in black patent gloves, again ap|)eared 
 in the parlor, again stared at the young Swiss, 
 and walked out of the door. 
 
 "The clown has certainly been bitten by a 
 mad Englishman," said Mr. Doubly, laughing, as 
 both looked after him. 
 
 " He feels his nullity, and would gladly be 
 something," remarked the Itilian ; " and as it is 
 easier to play the deaf and dumb gentleman, than 
 the intelligent Frenchman, it is easily explained 
 how he came to wear this mask. As to the rest, 
 the foreign nature peeps awkwardly forth from 
 the mask. No Englishman would ever take him 
 for a countryman." 
 
 "This is just the crazy side of the German 
 Anglo-mania," said Mr. Doubly, " and evinces 
 the narrow-mindedness of those who are ashamed 
 of being Germans, and ape the English. Will a 
 Briton ever deny his nationality, and as-sumethe 
 least of a foreign form, let him be in what coun- 
 try he may ? The (Germans, however, have no 
 nationality ; how can they maintain it ? As a 
 nation of full thirty millions of men, the Germans 
 might, truly, just as well be self-existent and 
 independent, as the French, the Spanish, or the 
 English." 
 
 " The British is, undoubtedly, the first nation 
 
 on earth — no one can deny that," remaricn?' the 
 Italian. 
 
 " Certainly, in material respects," replied 
 Doubly ; " but there are two sorts of greatness — 
 material and intellectual. The giant of eight 
 feet, who excites the astonishment of the rude 
 populace in some suburban theati-e, is certainly 
 great 
 
 " The English characterize their own gpreatness 
 by their acknowledgment and admiration of any, 
 or all, other material greatness. An English- 
 man respects no intellectual gi-eatness, becaus« 
 he is a strdn;er to it ; he honors no talent, no 
 science, no art, no intellect, but only the reault 
 of talent or of intellect — the result in money. 
 
 " On the contrai'y, he admires and honors mate- 
 rial greatness, let it be as spiritless as it may. 
 Great wealth, a gn;at ox, a great cheese, a great 
 vessel, a great hog, a great plum cake, a great 
 pumpkin, a great boxer: all greatness of this 
 sort interests the Englishiaan, if the ox or the 
 cheese is English. As a positive consequence 
 he nc^t only has no notion of any intellectual 
 greatness, but it appears ridiculous to him — 
 without money." 
 
 "If the Son of Man' were to come again, and 
 were to make his appearance in England, with- 
 out an equipage with four hoi-ses, and without 
 being recommended to Rothschild, he would 
 hardly find an English Clu'istendom," observed 
 the Signore Maestro. 
 
 " 1 will read to you, as an Italian, a fragment 
 from a [xiem, that is certainly written in a dead 
 language, and had to be first translated into 
 English, to be read." 
 
 The young Swiss brought a book from his 
 room, and read, in an impi-essive voice : 
 
 " Sydon and Tyre have once been great in traffic, 
 And Carthage, too, has had her HauaibaJ. 
 The storms of time, that mighty foe to form, 
 Have swallowed all, e'en to the smallest trace 
 Of their magnificence j tirst weak, then weaker. 
 Their splendor died e'en to its last faint beam. 
 Mysteriously extinguished by a power 
 That sweeps oli^ in ;in instant, towns an'd states. 
 
 A single hour — one battle's dire event, 
 Has oft cut down a liingdom's palmy bloom, 
 And erusheiJ its (irm foundations in themselves. 
 And all its power and splendor made extinct. 
 Preserved from all decay. Idea stands — 
 Idea, tiod's own light in human souls I 
 Babel, once great and pow erful, has fallen ; 
 Rome, Sparta, Athens, mock at such a fate. 
 
 From Tyre, from Sydon, and from Babylon, 
 All that remain are, ruins of the past ; 
 All, save the saying — ' Here a throne once stood. 
 Here kings witii wanton Phrynes revelled once— 
 Hei-e stood the exchange, and there, not far removed^ 
 The slave mart — here the jeweller's baaaar j' 
 No more is said of them in history. 
 Than — ' Here gieat trallic once was carried on I' 
 
 From Rome, from .A.thens, and from Ithaca, 
 More than the narae is handeil down to ua , 
 The human intellect, in brilliaat splendor. 
 In arts and science, gleams upon us Ihence, 
 Displaying culture's bright meridian path. 
 In opposition to the tragic silence 
 Of other cities' ruins — other states, 
 Once great in gold and stones,in hirelings anil in brokers 
 
 Athens and Ilouie, and Sparta still survive j 
 Vain are all efforts to extirpate .Mind. 
 The Greeks still bid defiance to tlieyoko 
 Of ser\'itude — the- Spartans, (the Mainotes.) 
 Are roused again in freedom's sacred cause ; 
 The Italians may be mocked by parasites ; 
 The Vatican and Peters haughty dome, 
 Eternally enclese the mighty spirit of Rome I 
 
 Behold we not virtue in Italy — 
 While freedom's martyrs pine in dungeons tUerfi ; 
 Voutlis who, in words and deeds, have boldly dareil 
 To sacri&ce themselves for fartherland 1
 
 DOLORES 
 
 183 
 
 Dungeons and exile have no power to blight 
 The Moom of mind ; desjiots may ever strive 
 To slay a people, and to share a land, 
 But Rome's Nemesis will not lie entombed. 
 
 JN'o nation's dead, tliat wortliy martyrs count, 
 ForGoil and freedom — honor — fatherland ! 
 No nation's 'lead, tliat sull'ers in its chains, 
 Scourged and dismembered by tiie hangman's hand, 
 If nationality still nerves the spirit's strength. 
 £'en slioiilj the nation's f. mc and splendor vanish, 
 Fhonlii treachery destroy Italia's sons, 
 Through nationality she'll rise again. 
 
 The spirit, in tilt strife with matter, fills 
 The t)loody book of the world's history. 
 'Tis from the feelings that all action springs. 
 Tyranny can do nouglit, 'gainst strengtli of mind. 
 
 Mysteriously enclosed in mourning crape, 
 Sits justice, in the judgement of the world. 
 Surrounded tty all nations' martyr-shades, 
 Deciding on the rise and fall of states. 
 
 And \vhat a nation does, and what intends. 
 All. as a nation, that it strives to efft?ct. 
 Shall be ma-le i<nown. Long as the earth revolves, 
 So long shall liithy selfishness be scorned. 
 Mind will be recognised, and gather fame 
 But despotism still remains accursed ; 
 For it the sentence from that judgement seat, 
 Shall be : To pass from memory to Oblivion I 
 
 Oblivion clouds the splendor of those states, 
 Which love to man, in spirit, have denied, 
 Which, nation after nation have betrayed. 
 Appropriating land on land by fraud. 
 
 No fruit can e'er arise from any seed. 
 Unless the genn receives the Spirit's ray ; 
 All that is mortal tleets away with time ; 
 The spiritual, alone, gains immortality." 
 
 There was another rattling and knocking at 
 the door of the corridor, and Abd el Kader again 
 opened it The gentleman strode slowly and 
 gravely, with wooden stiffness, through the salon, 
 and disappeared in the passage that led to his 
 room ; the two young men again looked after 
 him, and Mr. Doubly now declared : 
 
 " I will invite the clown once more to tea, 
 this evening ; if he refuses, upon my soul ! I 
 will lock him in his cabinet, and take upon my- 
 self, voluntarily, the care of the house to-morrow, 
 and he shall sit there until early the day after, 
 till Mr. Kossbriick comes home. He may knock 
 and call as much as he will ; any one might walk 
 in here, and give himself out for William Ross- 
 briick, and, after all, be some clever thief, who 
 may there hide things about his person, and carry 
 them out of the house. I know what I have to 
 do for the security of the property of our house. 
 If the fellow behaves himself this evening, as is 
 to be expected from a relative of the house, and 
 if he gives me sufficient evidence that he is the 
 person th'dt he pretends to be, well; if not, then 
 I shall take the measures towards him that 1 
 have resolved on." 
 
 The young It.ilian found this resolution as ori- 
 ginal as just, since no thief could certainly have 
 chosen a better mask, to cover his entrance into 
 a house, and enable him to carry on his business 
 with all convenience. The Sr. Maestro with- 
 drew towards evening, and some of the inmates 
 of the liouse appearing at tea time, Mr. Doubly 
 informed them that he should assume the watch 
 for the following day, and sent to invite the gen- 
 tleman once more to tea. The same churlish 
 answer was again returned — " 1 will not come !" 
 and the young Swiss kept his word. 
 
 Mr. Robert Walker went, towards sundown, to 
 his house in the Rua Direita where a young Eng- 
 lishman kept watoli in the same manner as did 
 Mr Doubly in the house of Rossbriick & Co. 
 
 The suu had hardly gone down, and its last 
 
 rays ceased to linger on the bare rocky masses 
 of the Corcovado, when a clapping of hands was 
 heard in the corridor of the house of Walker & 
 Co. At this intimation that some one required 
 admission, a negro opened the door, and Sr. 
 Forro announced himself, and enquired if Mr. 
 William Walker, from Buenos Ayres, was tliere. 
 
 The negro conducted him to a room which Mr. 
 Thomson kept as an office when he had any 
 thing to do in town. 
 
 " No one has announced himself," began Mr. 
 Forro, after the usual salutations," and we are 
 now ready to lay before you tlie plan of tliis bu- 
 siness, to carry out which important steps have 
 already been taken." 
 
 " The business relates to mines of metal .'" 
 inquired Robert, as the two seated themselves 
 opposite to each other. 
 
 " I herewith hand you the necessary docu- 
 ments, which will aflbrd you a clear insight in(o 
 the whole project. The mines are the principal 
 object, as the working of them will be the basis 
 of the industry, which is to support the colony. 
 Iron and lead are found there in great abundance. 
 The ground, covering the mines, is rich in 
 furniture wood, of excellent quality, and both 
 sources are nearly inexhaustible. The climate 
 is similar to that of the south of Etirope, and the 
 luxuriance of the vegetation admits of the culti- 
 vation of nearly all tlie most profitable European 
 fruits. In case you enter upon this business, 
 two vessels must immediately be freighted in 
 Europe, to bring out the laborers and emigrants 
 who are already engaged there, as well as the 
 necessai'y machines and manufactured products 
 of all sorts for the colony. Regular vessels from 
 Europe can then ply hack and forth, as the do- 
 main of the colony lies almost in immediate con- 
 tingency to the ocean." 
 
 " Very well !" replied Robert, when the agent 
 of the naturalist had ceased speaking, and ap- 
 peared to expect an answer. *' When do you 
 desire a definite answer on o'ur part, after we 
 shall have looked over the documents and mate- 
 rially weiglied the whole affair !" 
 
 " This is Saturday," answered Mr. Forro ; 
 " Monday morning, at nine o'clock, I shall wish 
 to hear your decision." 
 
 " Very well," concluded Robert ; " I shall ex- 
 pect you here on Monday morning, at nine 
 o'clock, and will, in the meantime, consult with 
 my uncle, Mr. Thomson, about the plan, that 
 we may then give you our fixed determination." 
 
 The two men of business parted from each 
 other with businesslike brevity, and Robert 
 mounted his horse to hurry towards Bota Fogo, 
 to lay before his uncle the affair, of which he had 
 already given him previous notice. He galloped 
 past the hill of da Gloria, and looked hastily up- 
 ward at the two pavilions, one of which he was 
 to inhabit on the coining night. For this purpose, 
 he had despatched tliither his carpet bag, as the 
 examination of his trunks and boxes at the alfan- 
 dega was postponed, on account of the holiday. 
 
 The wish, or, rather, the command, of the 
 amiable young lady, in relation to the mainte- 
 nance of her incognito, hardly permitted him 
 even to ask himself the questions, who she was, 
 and what was the danger to which she was ex- 
 posed. It was sufficient for him that he was 
 honored by her confidence, and summoned to her 
 protection. Notwithstanding this, however, aa
 
 184 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 indescribable uneasiness came over him, when 
 he recurred to the warning of his friend Hinango, 
 and the singular impression which this name 
 had mado upon the fair unknown. 
 
 The thought that the natural connexion of 
 ideas was founded upon the reality that this 
 young lady was Madame Closting, gained more 
 and more probability, and caused him to shudder 
 with that indefinable feeling for which he could 
 find no name. The secret of the young Brazilian 
 lady, however, whatever circumstances might, 
 make it necessary, was sacred to him. She was 
 in danger, and the suspicion that she might be the 
 lady whom Hinango had mentioned, could not 
 deter him from occupying the pavilion, as he, in 
 his youthful purity, was unconscious of the dan- 
 ger wliich might threaten himself. 
 
 The image of the distressed unfortunate came 
 before his soul with ineffaceable liveliness, and 
 the melodious tones of the voice in which she had 
 requested for herself the consolation of his 
 presence, resounded in the depths of his throb- 
 bing heart. He thought that he had trotted too 
 rapidly, and restrained his horse to a slower 
 pace ; partly to draw his breath more freely, 
 pai'tly to have a longer sight of the pavilion on 
 the Gloria, which, at length, disappeared behind 
 trees and houses. 
 
 t^^^^-*-*^^^^^ 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SECRET BUSINESS. 
 
 In one of the quiet by-streets extending to 
 the four winds from the Campo da Santa Anna, 
 (perhaps the largest square in any city upon 
 earth,) an antiquated garden wall arose, with 
 bananas rustling above it, and protected by a 
 covering of broken bottles, to prevent unbidden 
 guests from climbing over it. A narrow opening 
 in this wall formed a gate, or door, on which, 
 in contrast with the undeniable antiquity of the 
 massive wood work, as well as of the wall, a 
 brass bell-handle glittered, which had been 
 placed there but a short time before. 
 . It was late in the evening. The rockets and 
 blue-lights, in honor of the saint whose name- 
 day had just ended, whizzed and snapped about, 
 and filled the clear tropical atmosphere with 
 powder smoke. Empty casks, and even whole 
 piles of wood, blazed, and crackled, and burned, 
 in the middle of the streets, corrupting with 
 soot and smoke the air, that for many men there 
 was, indeed, much too pure. There was hissing, 
 
 and crackling, and clatter without end, like 
 
 a holiday evening in Rio de Janeiro. 
 
 A little thin short fellow, in a black dress coat, 
 just tlien glided along by the antiquated wail, 
 and pulled the brass knob, whereupon a bell 
 sounded in a far distance. After a time, pro- 
 portioned to the space that evidently extended 
 between the gate and tlie bell, something living 
 stirred inside of the old door, and a voice, tliat 
 appeared to proceed from a broken pot, cried 
 out, tolerably loud : 
 
 " Que ah >" (who's there ?) 
 
 "Amigalhao !"♦ snarled the little fellow 
 
 • Intimate friend. 
 
 through his nose, and a key grated in the lock 
 of the old door, 
 
 " Ah ! Senhor de Monte Video ! welcome ; 
 walk in! Dabedi ! dahbedikademlafuganita!" 
 cried an old negress, whose voice bore this bro- 
 ken sound. 
 
 The little man stepped over the threshold, and 
 very carefully ascended two extremely old steps, 
 almost worn out from long use, into a '■ botan- 
 ical garden," whose " scientific wealth" had 
 grown up so confusedly together, that it became 
 difficult for the little man, notwithstanding his 
 contracted latitude, to work his way thro\igh it, 
 without being wounded by the thorns of agigantic 
 aloe. 
 
 The " Senhor de Monte Video," an " intimate 
 friend of the house" that was so concealed 
 by trees and bushes of all sorts, was told, with- 
 out asking, that he wiis welcome, (at least to the 
 old negress,) and that the baron was there. 
 
 " But he is with the senhora '." whispered the 
 I old porteress in his ear, " with the senhora ! in 
 ' the back room ! Dahbedibadatunichabanifi — 
 dabitunamnalabamda — hihihi !" said she, with 
 inimitable rapidity, in a sort of Ethiopian mo- 
 ' ther tongue, in which, early and late, she dis- 
 j coursed with hei"self. 
 
 " What do you say ?" said the little stranger, 
 turning towards her. 
 
 I " I speak my Killomandambisch, hihihi !" 
 laughed the old woman, and drew her visage, 
 otherwise not peculiarly charming, into a hide- 
 ous grimace. 
 
 " Yes ! but what did you say in your lan- 
 guage .' you said something to me !" 
 
 " Not at all ! I speak my Killomandambisch, 
 that I may not forget my language ! the lan- 
 guage of my nation ! hihi !" 
 
 " What was the meaning of what you said just 
 now ?" 
 
 " That I do not know ; but I always speak my 
 mother tongue, that I may not forget it, as I 
 have forgotten the sense of the words. Hihihi ! 
 Bamdadipumanuadduntiicicadembutis." 
 
 " Have you then no countrymen or women of 
 your tribe, with whom you could speak your 
 language .'" 
 
 " Women ? ladies .' none ! I am the only one ! 
 for they are much too dear ! becaui^e we are 
 very handsome ! very handsome ! too dear ! 
 Badituhabenkikadotaludamiduli ! hihihi ! Sen- 
 hor Baron Branco is up there, with Senhora For- 
 tuna. Dadicabem ! pst ! still ! Senhor de Monte 
 Video! hihihi !" 
 
 The little man had reached the steps of a 
 dwelling, in the back ground of the natural un- 
 artincial botanic garden, and now entered an 
 apartment that was, at the same time, corridor 
 and entrance hall, after the mode of building 
 Brazilian houses. 
 
 The lighting of the apartment was in ac- 
 cordance with the naturalness of the arrange- 
 ment of the garden, and very clieap. The my- 
 riad of stars, glittering more and more in the 
 firmament, generously sent their shining rays 
 througli an open wind^iw, increasing thereby 
 the saving of gas lights to the occupant; not- 
 withstanding which, it was evidently lighter in 
 that apartment, than it is at times in many shops 
 in London, at twelve o'clock in a November day, 
 with a blaze of gas, almost extinguished by the 
 mass of fog.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 185 
 
 Senhora Bebida* was a splendid specimen of 
 Ethiopian originality ; a shrunken, dwarfish fig- 
 ure, of about four feet high. Her entire apparel 
 consisted of an old coarse colfee sack, with a 
 hole for the neck, and two others for the two 
 arms. The cloth did not quite cover the entire 
 pedestal of this antique figure, but was confined 
 over the hips by a ludf withered vine, whose 
 leaves and ends hung, Bacchus-like, over her nar- 
 row drapery. Her head, overgrown with pray 
 wool, was two-thirds mouth, always grinning; 
 the rest was nose, and some little feirehead. Her 
 cheeks and temples were tattooed with Ethiopian 
 hieroglyphics, and decorated with remarkably 
 spai'kling little eyes. 
 
 Bebida desired the stranger (who appeared to 
 be extremely well known as an ' intimate friend ' 
 of the house) to take a seat, and ascended a nar- 
 row stairway to a door which was locked. 
 
 " Go in the front rot)m and clear away the 
 table !" cried a female voice on the inside. 
 
 "Front room! clear away table ! Dahbedipa- 
 puia !" repeated Bebida ; " Sr. de Monte Video 
 IS below ! Datipaluchugalida!" 
 
 " What do you say ?" inquired the same voice. 
 " Sr. de Mon-te Vi-de-o is below ! wants to 
 speak to Sr. Baron ! Dapilachatihatchuti !" 
 
 " Tell him to wait ! 1 will come down !" cried 
 a male voice, which had sounded opposite to old 
 Mr. Thomson in the Hotel Faroux, and belonged 
 to the 30 called Baron de .Spandau, as his ' lawful 
 property,' to say nothing as to whether he pes 
 sessed much ' lawful projjerty ' besides. 
 
 "Wait! I'll come ! Dapilacolmaliquhetebu !' 
 murmured Bebida, and went into the designated 
 front room, where the relics of a tete-a-tete sup- 
 per stood upon a round table before a sofa. 
 
 Without long hesitation , Bebida seized a cham- 
 pagne bottle, which caught her eye, held it uj> 
 in the starlight, weighed it in her hand, mut- 
 tered some phrases of her motlier tongue, and 
 pushed the neck of the bottle into her tolerably 
 capacious mouth. "Bonito! bonito!''t murmured 
 she, when not a drop more flowed out ; and tlien 
 removed the oyster sliells, and ananas, orange and 
 other rinds, into her apron, which was nothing 
 else than the front part of her single sack gar- 
 ment. She continued muttering to herself, as 
 she went prudently down the steps. 
 
 The friend of the house had, in the meanwhile, 
 seated himself at a similar round table, in tlie 
 middle of the hall, which likewise served as a 
 reception room. 
 
 " Bebida ! light the lamp ! Dapalaradamba,'' 
 she muttered as she now again made her appear- 
 ance. "Baron come ! senhor must wait !" She 
 tried a chemical match, and laughed immoderate- 
 
 * "A disgusting drink," as she was named by some wag. 
 
 Bebida — and nearly all the other characters of this 
 • novel, from the most important to the most insignificant, 
 are portraits drawn from nature, and inwoven in this 
 composition. 
 
 This novel, in itself, may meet the reproach of con- 
 sidering many social and anti-social relations, from 
 the most unl'avorablc side, and throwing a sharp light 
 upon them — wherefore the author gives the assurance, 
 once for all, that all its characters, relations, and events, 
 are founded upon real facts. On the other hand, how- 
 ever, tile author's endeavor has been, to arrange and to 
 marli the original materials as the strictest discretion 
 required, without thereby injuring in the least, the 
 psychological amd social 'truth on which this work is 
 founded as a " character painting of our epoch." 
 
 \ Beautiful y agreeable. 
 
 24 
 
 ly, when it snapped and took fire. " Bonito ! ! 
 bonito ! ! ! fire ! fire ! bonito ! ! ! Dabelikata- 
 pakuibadem !" 
 
 After a moment there was a wax light burn- 
 ing under a glass shade, which, in contrast with 
 the starlight, seemed rather to make it darker 
 than lighter, but near which tlie friend of the 
 liouse was able to read the compressed writing 
 of some [lapers, he had already laid down before 
 him on the table. 
 
 The apartment was a Brazilian reception and 
 sitting room, with an alcove in the back ground, 
 near wliich a passage led into the back part of 
 the house, below a staircase that divided it from 
 the front. 
 
 A stuH'ed sofa, some chairs, and an ornamental 
 table, witli artificial flowers covered with glass 
 shades, composed the furniture. Some coarse 
 colored litliograph prints, in glass and frames, or- 
 namented the walls, as : Bonaparte on the bridge 
 of Areola, la Belle Suisse, the Prodigal Son, 
 Paul and Virginia, and some interesting images, 
 which properly belonged in the alcove, or in the 
 back room of the upiier story An old, very 
 interesting copperplate engraving above the sofa, 
 was of peculiar value, it represented Rahab call- 
 ing out tlie spies fiom under the flax on her roof, 
 to assist their flight.* 
 
 All remained tolerably quiet over the head of 
 the ' intimate friend of the house,' until nearly 
 half an hour had elapsed ; footstep.s were then 
 heard, without tamancas, or bouts, or shoes, and 
 after some minutes the baron appeared, the 
 point of his nose directed heavenward, and his 
 cheeks highly colored, in a Brazilian dressing 
 gown " a la Guizot," and a truly national German 
 nightcap of white North American cotton. The 
 intimate friend of the house arose, and drew an 
 armchair near the table, for the baron. 
 
 " It is very agreeably cool this evening," be- 
 gan the visiter, as the fii'st word on either side, 
 while the baron was still busied with the capu- 
 chin girdle of his dressing gown. 
 
 " Very pleasantly cool this evening, Senhor 
 Prole. Have we letters from Buenos Ayres .'" 
 
 " One for you, baron, and one lor me. Mine 
 is from Falsodo. Important intelligence, but 
 nothing decisive, as yet." 
 
 " I will write to Buenos Ayres in regard to 
 what you refer to. Do you remember what I 
 dictated to you, three weeks ago, wliich you 
 copied as a letter ? Do you remember that, 
 Senhor Prole ?" 
 
 " As well as if t had written it yesterday, 
 baron. You informed the Director General of 
 the Secret Cabinet-Police, tliat you wore able to 
 give information concerning the autliorship of 
 the ' Elegias dela Plata,' and oOiired, under 
 certain stipulations, to place the person who 
 wrote the ' Elegias ' at the disposal of justice in 
 Buenos Ayres." 
 
 " Well, then, you need not be surprised, if 
 the awkward Senhor Falsodo has, until now, 
 written nothing decided. Nevertheless, its all 
 the same. Wliat does he write .""' 
 
 " This, among the rest," replied Senhor Prole, 
 and read : ' I avail myself of the letter bag of a 
 Swedish brig, to inform you, in all haste, that 
 
 .Senlior Alphonso de P is condemned to 
 
 death, and will be shot to-morrow, at sunrise. 
 
 ♦ Joshua, chap. ii.
 
 186 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 The Franciscan monlc, Padre Fernando, has not 
 been able to get any thing out of him ; and the 
 said Alphonso has requested a Benedictine monk, 
 named Celeste — in his former worldly relations, 
 
 Senhor Lorenzo de V ' " 
 
 " Now all is arranged," interrupted the Baron ; 
 " ' I have further notice of his worldly rela- 
 tions ' " 
 
 — " ' worldly relations,' " continued Sr. Prole, 
 
 reading, " ' named Senhor Lorenzo de V , 
 
 might be admitted to him, and his request has 
 been granted. 1 have spoken with Senhor Bor- 
 rachezo r specting the fatality that occurred to 
 you in Monte Video.' " 
 
 " Respecting the drubbing that you received 
 in the printing office there .' That is a personal 
 matter." 
 
 " Certainly, a personal matter. Baron, inso- 
 much as 1 received it in my own person." 
 " Is that .dl he has written to you ? All ?" 
 " 'I commend to your particular observation,' " 
 Senhor Prole continued to read, " ' Seidior Ho- 
 ratio de P , nephew of the traitor Alphonso, 
 
 who has received permission to be banished from 
 
 the A.rgentine Republic '" 
 
 " Unique style, that !" observed the Baron. 
 " ' To be exded, and has shipped to-day on 
 board of this same Swedish brig, Nordstjernan.' 
 Further: ' Likewise suspicious, but without 
 direct accusation, a Russian captain, formerly a 
 naval ofHcer, wished to purchase here a Danish 
 vessel from St. Thomas, named Ormur Olafur 
 
 Hinango ' Is that the name of the brig, or 
 
 the fellow ?" said Prole, interrupting himself. 
 
 " I know best about that ; the two are already 
 here. Does he write you nothing about the 
 other passengers of the Nordstjernan." 
 " No ! nothing at all !" 
 
 " The jackass ! Well, so much the better ! 
 so much the better I There was then no other 
 suspicious person on board ! none at all ! If my 
 letter, however, does not contain something ol 
 more interest than yours, I shall begrudge the 
 postage. To be sure, I cannot yet have an an- 
 swer to my stipulations ; I must wait for the next 
 English packet." 
 
 He broke open and read the letter, which had 
 likewise been enclosed under cover to Sr. Prole, 
 and appeared not to be at all edified by its con- 
 tents. 
 
 " Well then, they are busy in Patagonia, as 
 well as in Lapland ! the cursed fellows !" said 
 he, interrupting himself during the reading of 
 the letter, " and what is worse, amongst the 
 sons of the ocean in the Mediterranean sea, 
 as upon the Southern Atlantic !" He read half 
 aloud : " ' The privateer Mazzini, Captain Bari- 
 galdi, is on the coast, destined for Rio Grande.' 
 Yes, we know the fellow; I will hand him over 
 to you yet. On Monday 1 will go to the Minis- 
 ter of Marine, and have a corvette .sent towards 
 Rio Grande. We must have him, alive or 
 dead ! Is the note despatched to the Ger- 
 man bL'etleman .' the invitation to^ breakfast to- 
 morrow in my room at the Hotel Faroux .'" 
 
 " It has been sent '. he will come — Dr. Mer — 
 Mer — wliat is his name ?" 
 
 " Merbiild I Very well, have you looked up a 
 pair of beetles, at Sr. Forro's, iroui the col lee 
 tion of Mr. Closting ? a very rare specimen !" 
 
 " All iias been done, and is ready for you at the 
 Hotel Fai-oux, since six o'clock this evening. A 
 
 pair of ' Spinoza hoods,' as they are called ; the 
 rarest that Sr. Forro found on Mr. Closting's 
 register; they cost twelve millreis " 
 
 " Twelve millreis ?" cried the baron, in peev- 
 ish surprise. " Forro is a Jew ! whether bap- 
 tized or not ! Six pesos for a pair of worthless 
 beetles ! Oh, well ! they will pay for them- 
 selves; and if they were not something peculiar, 
 1 could not offer them to Dr. Merbold ; at least 
 1 should fail in my object. Bebida ! Bcbida !" 
 cried he, and rang a small handbell that stood 
 near the light, 
 
 " Senhor ! senhor !" resounded on the thresh- 
 old, " Dabikidabinlegomalifu !" 
 
 " Shut your wide mouth, and bring us a bottle 
 of the long light green, in the right hand corner 
 of the cellar !" 
 
 " Wide mouth — long bottle — light green- 
 right hand corner — cellar — Dabedi ! Dabedika- 
 dulibula !" she muttered, and hurried out. 
 " Have you nothing else.'" 
 " Yes, indeed !" the famous Organization -Act, 
 which has made all our investigations so diffi- 
 cult." 
 
 " That must be the same that was printed long 
 ago. I know the fellow who plaimed it." 
 
 " He has outwitted us with his ' Temples !' " 
 interrupted Sr. Prole. " There is the pajier ; and 
 here is also the famous National Manifest of the 
 ' Humanita.' " 
 
 " Read them to me ; but first wet your lips — 
 there is Bebida with the Rhenish !" 
 
 " Senhor ! Rhenisli ! and two glasses ! is it 
 so .' Badilikademsafifu ! !" She made a profound 
 courtesy, laughed heartily without any special 
 occasion, and brought two bottles, three wine 
 glasses, and a small liquor glass. Both looked 
 silently at her, as if (hey were waiting to see what 
 Bebida would do ; she placed two wine glasses 
 near the two men, took the third in her right 
 hand, and the small one in her left, and re- 
 mained standing, like a bronzed idol image. 
 When the baron had filled his glass, she held out 
 the two glasses, and began her murmur: " One 
 for Sra. Fortuna — up stairs — the big one ! and 
 for Senhoraya* Bebida the little one ! Fifidabe- 
 dikadembepumfidabila I thank ye ! thank ye ! too 
 much !" 
 
 " You have none yet I" said the baron, laugh- 
 ing- 
 
 " Sra. Fortuna up stairs, tired ! very tired ! 
 worked hai'd, Dababedikademsabifili ! must have 
 a glass !" 
 
 " There ! she may help herself, and you too, 
 and bring the bottle back directly !" cried the 
 baron, as he handed it to her ; " but if Bebida 
 drinks on the stairs, there hangs the chigote, 
 out there !" 
 
 The old woman laughed immoderately, made 
 a profound courtesy, took the bottle with the 
 two glasses, and hurried away with her " Dabedi- 
 kademba," etc. 
 
 " Now, Sr. Prole, read the Organization. Pity 
 the fellow will not enter into our service ; hand- 
 some offers are made to him ! he would have 
 invented a new organization of the secret police ! 
 1 confess, that tliis organization of their Union 
 is famously conceived, lor even under the tor- 
 ture they can denounce no more than the few 
 persons whom they know. Read it, Sr. Prole " 
 ♦ Senhoraea, a I'ortuguese word for a person who playi 
 the great lady.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 187 
 
 The police spy, Sr. Prole, from Buenos Ayres, 
 driven from Monte Vidio, with a thrashing, and 
 become a *' political refugee" in Rio, and besides, 
 appointed as the secretary and perambulating 
 factotum of the Baron de Spaiidau, through a 
 secret recommendation from Buenos Ayres, drank 
 his glass of wine, and read as follows : 
 
 ORGANIZATION, 
 
 Of the Union: The " Humanitn." 
 
 1. Eleven men and youths, who acknowledge 
 themselves bound to the* ***** an nationality, 
 unite and choose a leader for a delinite period of 
 time. 
 
 2. Apart from all symbols, we require names 
 to designate things, and will call tiie union of 
 these eleven persons a Rock. 
 
 3. Eleven such Rocks, (each of which is to be 
 known by a definite number,) form a Foundation, 
 (121 persons,) the eleven leaders of which form 
 a committee, (fundamental committee,) and elect 
 from among them a leader, a secretary, and 
 r.ashier. 
 
 4. Eleven Foundations form a Pillar, (1.331 
 persons,) the eleven leaders of which likewise 
 meet and choose a leader, a secretary, and cashier. 
 
 5. Eleven Pillars constitute a Hall, (14,611 
 persons,) whose eleven leaders likewise meet, 
 and choose the three above mentioned officers 
 from their number. 
 
 6. Eleven Halls constitute a Temple, (IGl ,0.51 
 persons,) whose eleven leaders likewise meet in 
 committee, and choose the three said officers. 
 
 7. The national union, can choose their ge- 
 neral committee in the same manner, as fast as 
 the niunber of members increases. 
 
 8. For inasmuch as despotism declares patriot- 
 ism " high treason," the national union organized 
 as above, can shield itself from publicity, as the 
 members of the union are unknown ; for if, in 
 spite of all precaution, a spy should steal into 
 the union, he can never discover more than ten 
 persons ; should he be chosen leader, he can 
 never know the names of more than twenty, 
 among 121 persons, of thirty among 1331 per- 
 sons, and among 14,641, of only forty persons. 
 
 9. In case the union, in the above form, should 
 ever become a perfect Temple, the resolutions 
 of the general committee (directory) can very 
 soon bring 161,000 persons into action. 
 
 10. Should our nation, by a decisive contest, 
 clear the way to liberty, a speedy organization 
 of the diflerent races will be necessary to found 
 the representation ; this can be done in a few 
 days without difficulty, by means of the above 
 arrangement. Every province may, in such case, 
 organize itself in Temples. The Rocks will be 
 formed with reference to the residence of the 
 members. Besides the eleven Hall leaders, (com- 
 mittee §6,) they will also choose twenty-two 
 known patriots from their number, who, together 
 with the Hall leaders, form a Directory, or Coun- 
 cil ; thirty-three persons who choose their own 
 officers. 
 
 H. As soon as several Temples of the differ- 
 ent r.aces constitute a nation, the Council of the 
 People, (Provisorial Congress) organizes itself 
 The number of the members of this Congress 
 will be determined according to circumstances. 
 
 12. All elections shall be made for a definite 
 
 * South American — Central American, Scandinavian, 
 etc., etc. 
 
 term. Intrigue and bribery in an election, un- 
 der this organization, are very difficult. It is 
 very improbable that an unworthy member 
 should get into a committee, and still more im- 
 prob.ible that, by four successive elections, he 
 should become Hall leader or representative to 
 a National Congress. 
 
 13. The election of a national representation 
 (Congress) can, by means of the above organiza- 
 tion, be made in a few days, without disorder, as 
 never more than eleven persons meet at once. 
 Pu!)lic meetings can, however, take place, the 
 preparation fur, and regulation of which, may 
 easily be managed under the above organization. 
 
 " There we have it ! Take yourself off! set 
 down the bottle, and go away !" cried he to the 
 old Bebida, who just then came in and lightly 
 muttered, " Dabedicademlamalilipiji ! Senhora 
 Fortuna says thank ye ! Bonito!" made a more 
 profound courtesy than before, and withdrew, 
 with " Dabedikadembuh !" 
 
 " There we have it !" repeated the baron. "If 
 it be true that the men of former centuries, rise 
 again, then the spirit of Jacques Molay exists in 
 the fellow who invented this organization. If 
 we could only have him imprisoned and burned, 
 like Molay of old !"' 
 
 " That is a singular thought which you ex- 
 pressed, that the men of former centuries live 
 again in spirit !" 
 
 " A thought that comes very close, when we 
 consider the prominent personages here and 
 there. For example, Casimir Perrier is evi- 
 dently Martin Luther, who has discovered the 
 'juste milieu,' that the other only imitated. 
 
 " The sensual poet king Solomon, with all his 
 wives, is the poet king Louis of Bavaria : ' All is 
 vanity,' is his motto, and he builds splendid tem- 
 ples, like the other. 
 
 " Nebuchadnezzar, who at length ate nothing 
 but salad, is the old Charles the Tenth, who could 
 endure nothing but vegetables at the last. 
 
 " Jeremiah is the German poet Bcerne, who 
 laments the destruction of his people. 
 
 " Judas, the last of the Maccabees, is Abd el 
 Kader, if the latter be not even bi-aver still. 
 
 " Nero is our Rosas, who persecutes the Uni- 
 tarians, as the other did the first Christians. 
 
 " Moses, who, with sword in hand, taught na- 
 tionality and the faith in the only God, is Mazzini. 
 
 "John the Baptist, is De-Lamenais. 
 
 " Balaam's ass that spoke, is Dr. Merbold, who 
 takes the crown prince of Prussia for an arch 
 liberal !" 
 
 The secretary's laugh accompanied that of his 
 chief 
 
 " And do you know who is the ox of Luke 
 the Evangelist .'" inquired the baron, with em- 
 phasis. ^ 
 
 " No!" replid Senhor Prole, after earnest de- 
 liberation. 
 
 " It is you" — and both laughed heartily, and 
 again emptied their glasses. 
 
 Sr. Prole, having emptied his glass once more 
 in private business, continued to read the fol- 
 lowing : 
 
 N.^TIONAL MANIFEST, 
 
 Of the Union: The " Hximanita." 
 1. We the undersigned, •*•«•» ans, unite 
 ourselves into a union of equality and brother
 
 183 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 hood, in the spirit of our nationality and call this 
 union * * * * 
 
 2. We believe in the primitive spirit of man- 
 kind, which reveals itself as the principle of 
 progress, development, and melioration, in the 
 history of all nations and of all times. 
 
 3. We believe in mankind as a whole, con- 
 sisting of nations — the nations consisting of dif- 
 ferent races, united by the bond of patriotism. 
 
 4. We recognise, as ahistorical truth, the ex- 
 istence of particular traits of character in every 
 nation, which is shown by all history, from the 
 most ancient tu the present time. 
 
 0. The bond of nationality is the oldest and 
 most sacred bond that unites man to mankind, 
 whilst the idea "mankind" disappears, in a 
 formless chaos, with the denying of the nation- 
 ality of peoples, whereof it consists. 
 
 6. We believe that our position, our duties, 
 and our dignity, as men, in the great union of 
 mankind, are the conditions of our nationality. 
 
 7. We believe that tlie bonds of nationality are 
 the basis of humanity. " Whoever does not love 
 his own nation, cannot love mankind," which 
 consists of nations. 
 
 8. We believe in the union, harmony, and 
 unity of races related in their nationality ; and 
 in the fraternity of nations in the great union of 
 mankind. 
 
 9. The principle of equality is the basis of 
 freedom; freedom, the means of all develop- 
 ment and melioration. 
 
 10. We recognise our fatherland * * * *, in a 
 geographical point of view, as it was formed of 
 itself, by population of kindred races, from * * • 
 • to • * * * 
 
 11. We thus recognise, as * ' * * ans, the 
 races of ***** * 
 
 12. We believe in the principle of the equal- 
 ity of all races, without prerogative or distinc- 
 tion, as we also recognise the principle of 
 equality in all the nations of the earth, united 
 in the spirit of humanity. 
 
 13. We recognise man upon eai'th, as an inde- 
 pendent and morally free being ; the dignity of 
 man as founded in the consciousness of his na- 
 tionality ; and the essence of all duties towards 
 mankind, in the fullilment of the fundamental 
 conditions of humanity. 
 
 14. We believe in the primitive spirit of man- 
 kind, which reveals itself in cultivation and me- 
 lioration, from century to century. We believe 
 it to be the sacred duty of all nations, in conse- 
 quence of this spirit, to strive and work for the 
 noble end of the emancipation and ennoblement 
 of the human race. 
 
 15. We recognise the primitive spirit of man- 
 kind as the spirit of love, liglit, and power, as a 
 Unity, and consequently no resisting second 
 power, no " evil spirit." 
 
 16. We believe in the principle of freedom in 
 man and in nations. We believe in the moral 
 freedom of man to choose what is good ; and in 
 the political freedom of every nation, that man 
 may be able to act in conformity to his moral 
 freedom. We recognise the liglit of the primi- 
 tive spirit within us as " reason," and the senti- 
 ment of patriotism as the basis of every noble 
 action. 
 
 17. In consequence of the principles of free- 
 dom, man can be morally free, when he wills, 
 and a nation can be politically free, when it re- 
 
 veals its will for unity, through the union of iU 
 powers in the spirit of nationality. 
 
 IS. We recognise a spiritual and formal union 
 of the moral powers of a nation, and a union of 
 nations founded upon the principle of humanity, 
 ■IS absolutely necessary to operate against des- 
 potism, which robs tlie people of their sacred 
 rights, and declares patriotism " high treason." 
 
 lU. We recognise the sacred " right" of a na- 
 tion to develop itself in the element of freedom, 
 but, at the same time, we also recognise the 
 "duty" of every man to work for the deliver- 
 ance of the oppressed people, and tlie duty of 
 every nation to assist and to support the struggle 
 for the deliverance of another nation. 
 
 20. We recognise the historical truth, that a 
 nation has never yet obtained its liberty and in- 
 dependence, without an obstinate struggle for 
 its sacred rights. 
 
 21. We understand it as the interest of des- 
 potism, to nourish and sti-engthen national ha- 
 tred and disunion in the dillerent races of each 
 nation — to keep them separate from each other, 
 in order more easily to keep them in subjection. 
 
 22. We recognise the principle of love, as the 
 basis of humanity — the band of family, as the 
 basis of morality. 
 
 23. In consequence of the principle of equal- 
 ity, we acknowledge no prerogative of birth and 
 blood. 
 
 21. We recognise no lord, but the Lord of the 
 Universe, and no earthly power, but the Power 
 of the People. 
 
 25. No government is " legitimate," which ia 
 founded on the prerogative of birtli and blood. 
 
 26. We recognise it as the right of a nation 
 tu rule over its own concerns, by means of rea- 
 sonable organization, and representation by free 
 election. 
 
 27. We believe that the development of a 
 nation, in the element of freedom, can only 
 progress on the basis of popular education and 
 rational legislation. 
 
 2S. In consequence of the principles of honor 
 and virtue, we do not measure the " worth " of a 
 man, by his money or property. 
 
 2'J. Apathy and indiiierence in the character 
 of man, and prejudice and moral slavery in so- 
 ciety, are the greatest evils of our age, inasmuch 
 as tliey tend to bar every advance towards free- 
 dom and melioration. 
 
 30. We believe in the self-consciousness of 
 man, and the power of conviction as the founda- 
 tion of every advance in humanity. We recog- 
 nise the opposite conviction of enemies, and we 
 honor an enemy, when he defends his conviction, 
 in life and tleath, as we do ours. 
 
 31. In contending for the sacred rights of 
 mankind, we demand a fair, unconditional deci- 
 sion ; a denying of all seihsm by patriotism. We 
 honor in our enemies the same self-denial, if 
 they, like us, sacrifice their lives and property 
 in contending against us. We despise indeci- 
 sion, apathy, and indilWrence, and declare our- 
 selves uncompromising enemies of all treason 
 in the cause of the nations. 
 
 32. We adopt, for our universal union, the 
 motto : " Dios y Humanidad," (^God and man- 
 kind ;) and as for our National branch, the motto ;* 
 
 • The Italians : " Ora e scmpre" — The Scflndiuavians : 
 " Aut pro aut contra," etc., etc.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 1S9 
 
 33. Wc recognige the plan of an organization 
 of the ITnion, of the 12th of August 1834, as the 
 basis of our Union, and recommend it to the con- 
 sideration of all members. 
 
 34. We recognise a committee as ' * * * an 
 national, which consists of eleven * * * * ans, 
 and vvliich is formed according to the aforesaid 
 organization, to be connected with the Central 
 Committee of "*•**," on * * * * an soil. 
 
 35. We recognise a Central Committee of 
 eleven * * * • ans, on * * * * an soil, ac- 
 cording to the above organization, as nationally 
 binding. 
 
 36. We acknowledge the necessity of a na- 
 tional symbol, and consequently, we recognise 
 the colors *****••*, as national colors ; 
 also, a national ensign :a«*«*«** 
 
 37. We acknowledge it necessary, that every 
 member of our union, on * * * * * an soil, 
 should provide himself with arms. 
 
 38. We believe in the special duty of every 
 ***** an, on foreign soil, in his position as 
 citizen, or inhabitant of a foreign country, in so 
 far as he acknowledges himself spiritually bound 
 to the ***** an national union. We re- 
 commend to him the strict observance of the law 
 of that state which affords him personal security 
 and protection. 
 
 39. We are impressed with the necessity of 
 keeping our union a secret on ***** an soil, 
 until the day when the people's voice calls us to 
 arms. We leave the policy of making public the 
 transactions of a * * * * an committee on the 
 free soil of foreign countries, to the considera- 
 tion and prudence of its members. 
 
 40. We adopt as an insignia for the seal of the 
 •_**** an Union, a ♦ * * * • with the 
 circumscription, * • « • • ^ggg §32.) 
 
 41. We found this Union, when despotism has 
 anew gained the victory over the cause of the 
 nations. But instead of despairing for the fate 
 of mankind, we, on the contrary, declare our 
 faith in God, who governs the destiny of nation's, 
 who leads men and nations from night to light, 
 from slavery to freedom. 
 
 42. We recognise the Act of Fraternity, of 
 April 15th, 1834, and are prepared to join the 
 otiensive and defensive alliance of nations. 
 
 43. We believe that God reveals himself in 
 mankind ; the history of all nations and of all 
 ages to be the impress of the primitive spirit of 
 humanity, in the working and striving of the na- 
 tions for melioration and perfection. 
 
 44. As sons of our fatherland, * • « • '^ vve 
 acknowledge it as our duty to sacrifice ourselves 
 on the altar of patriotism. We declare ourselves 
 resolved and ready to seal the covenant of our 
 nationality with our blood, when our hour has 
 come to die for God and Mankind in the spirit of 
 humanity. Amen. August, 1338. 
 
 *' They seem to be thorough-going fellows, 
 baron ! those Humanitarios !" began Sr. Prole, 
 after a pause ; " and according to this devilish 
 organization we can devise little against them !" 
 
 " And we can learn even less by the conti'ol 
 of their letters in relation to the associates ; no 
 devil can comprehend their mode of writing who 
 has not the key ; it is impossible." 
 
 *' Dabidekademlakonifatumkabanfiiopudam! — 
 Bonito ! Vinho bonito ! Dabedikadem !" whis- 
 pered jBebida, and laughed a Uihihi afterwards, 
 
 as she appeareil, tmcalled, and brougnt the third 
 bottle. .She went close to the baron, tri-^d to 
 force her comical black mask to the most pro- 
 found seriousness of which she was capable, and 
 whispered in his ear, " Sra. Fortuna sent to re- 
 quest that you would come up — to her — soon- 
 right away — waiting — wants — will — Debedika- 
 dem !" 
 
 " I will come right away ! just tell her so ! 
 and do you go to bed ! I will fasten the door my- 
 self." 
 
 "Dabedikademlafakatibaha,hihihi !" answered 
 Bebida. She made a profound courtesy, and took 
 with her the two first bottles, in which there 
 still remained a few drops of " vinho bonito" for 
 her. 
 
 " Can the Russian Hinango be an emissary of 
 the Humanitarios .'" inquired Prole, when they 
 were once more alone, and had again emptied 
 their glasses. 
 
 " Jackass — there are many in the city of Ge- 
 neva, in Switzerland!" cried the baron, soften- 
 ing with great presence of mind the word, which 
 might have somewhat offended the assistant spy. 
 
 " We know his position !" " but it will 
 
 not do to arrest him yet!" said he, interrupt- 
 ing himself. '* The Russian ambassador here 
 had him under his own surveillance two years 
 ago; his secretary sought admittance in the 
 neighborhood of the pavilion where he lived, but 
 the fellow is too cunning. It was all in vain ! 
 He takes care of himself, and the government 
 here even protect him, so long as he undertakes 
 nothing directly against them. Well ! then you 
 have appointed the beetleman to meet me at the 
 Hotel Faroux, and the two beetles are ready for 
 him .'" 
 
 " According to your orders, baron !" 
 
 " Take notice yourself of all the passengers 
 who arrived in the Nordstjernan, and observe 
 them sharply, excepting the German ape, who 
 plays the Englishman ; he is as harmless to us 
 as any real Englishman upon the European con- 
 tinent. I cannot nnder.stand the narrow-minded- 
 ness of governments that see a demagogue in a 
 Briton ! Every ' gentleman ' is naturally a royal- 
 ist, and will not be apt to compromise himself, 
 as an apostle of the idea of the future. The real 
 young gentleman, however, from the Nordstjer- 
 nan, forms an exception, as he was brought yp at 
 Buenos Ayres, in association with Unitarians. 
 You may keep an eye upon him. And now, good 
 night. Take another glass. It is midnight ; we 
 will conclude our labors." 
 
 Sr. Prole emptied another glass, and then the 
 chief agent of European and Ai-gentine espion- 
 age, accompanied him through the garden to the 
 gate, locked it behind him, then the house door; 
 and then mounted the narrow stairs, and disap- 
 peared in the alcove of the back room. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE WEIGHT FROM THE HEART, 
 
 Opf the Sunday immediately following the Sa- 
 turday before referred to, all was in movement in 
 the country house of old Mr, Thomson, at Bota
 
 190 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Fogo. It is true that no one was particularly 
 invited, except Monsieur le Baron de Spandau, 
 and Dr. Tliorfin ; but, nevertheless, all went 
 " festively on," because Miss Fanny, and Mr. 
 Robert had ;irrived from Buenos .^yres, and be- 
 cause Mr. George Thompson had been three 
 years a widower for the fourth and a half time. 
 It was by no means the day on which his last 
 incomparable, comfortable wife had departed this 
 life — by no means ! Similar days, of which he 
 had five to keep, (for he counted in the day of 
 the death of his West Indian betrothed, one,) 
 had been, for three years, spent very seriously 
 and lonesomely. The scales, on the left of the 
 door that led from the " green parl.ir" into the 
 gardeji, were on such days hung with myrtle and 
 crape. 
 
 Mr. Thomson had, on the day before, (after 
 long consultation with an English hair dresser,) 
 caused his thin hair to be cut a la Romeo, and 
 had already appeared at breakfast in " half gala" 
 dress, because he had casually dressed himself 
 earlier than usual, and because Miss Fanny, 
 from Buenos Ayres, was seated next to him. 
 
 It was towards one o'clock. Dr. Thorfin and 
 Mr. Robert had already arrived on horseback ; 
 the blue carriage retured from the city, and 
 brought Miss Susan and Miss Fanny from the 
 F.nglish church, where the Catholic lady from 
 Buenos Ayres had perhaps worshipped with as 
 much devotion as the British, who belonged to a 
 sect that ate no meat, and tolerated no musical 
 instruments. Love makes people tolerant, and 
 since Miss Susan believed that the Baron de 
 Spandau loved her to distraction, she considered 
 all " no Christians," (that is to say, all who did 
 not belong to her sect,) with far greater indul- 
 gence than before. 
 
 The baron had, from the first, announced him- 
 self as a Catholic in Rio de Janeiro, as that was 
 the religion of tlie court, and he lived in the 
 hope of obtaining a permanent situation under 
 the government, such as had been obtained there 
 by adventurers wlio were far more stupid than 
 he. Of course he regularly visited the court 
 chapel, near the imperial residence, and the 
 Carmelite church, near the court chapel, as both 
 churches were close to each other, and the ele- 
 gant female world of each rivalled the other. 
 Wh^her the baron was baptized as a Catholic or 
 a Protestant, very naturally concerned nobody, 
 if only the money for the baptism had been duly 
 paid forty years before. The sponsors, who, ac- 
 cording to the regulations of the church, had, 
 after this or that ritual, solemnly pledged them- 
 selves to take care of the spiritual and corporeal 
 welfare of the new member of Christendom, had 
 probably long since forgotten this promise at the 
 altar, and would have considered it indiscreet 
 and silly, in the highest degree, for any one to 
 have reminded them of it. 
 
 The said Baron de Spandau (as he called him- 
 self in Urazil) did not let them wait long for him, 
 and trotted up to the garden gate on his Mars- 
 charduro,* just as the blue coach with the two 
 ladies, attended by a colored maid, (who had 
 likewise " renounced all the lusts of the flesh,") 
 had stopped there. 
 
 Old Achilles, who had been in a gloomy me- 
 
 » Literally, hard runner. A race of Brazilian horses, 
 ■mall, but ol" excellent quality — amblers. The race of 
 Minas horses is larger and more hardy. 
 
 lancholy mood since his arrival in Bola FogO 
 
 and was dressed in his Sunday's state livery, 
 jumped down from the box ; he h.ad, as duplicate 
 coachman at the side of Mr. Thomson's " horse- 
 breaker," at least been in the neighborhood of 
 his mistress, whom he w'ould, in no case, have 
 suffered to go alone, even to an English church. 
 
 Before Achilles, however, had laid his hand 
 upon the coach door, Corinna, who, for the first 
 time in years, had been separated from her mis- 
 tress, had already opened it. 
 
 Corinna had been weeping. Why? what cause 
 had she to be sad .' Had she, perhaps, not had 
 her regular supper, breakfast, and dinner, at Bota 
 Fogo ? 
 
 On the contrary, Mr. Thomson's house was 
 known as very sumptuous, since Miss Susan no 
 longer kept the keys, which Mr. Thomson had 
 given over to a black housekeeper. Corinna had 
 grown up with Dolores on the banks of the La 
 Plata, so to say, in the garden of a quinta. Well, 
 then! and she was now in Bota Fogo, vvliich 
 likewise lay on the water's side. Instead of the 
 La Plata, here was a bay, and the quinta was 
 here a chacara, and the garden was a park. 
 Where was the great difl'erence .' Her mistress 
 was exiled, and, must not return to the garden 
 on the bank of the La Plata — was that a reason for 
 weeping on a fine Sunday morning .' Thousands 
 of both sexes leave home, and garden, and father- 
 land, and seek, in foreign countries, money — 
 money ! and if they make money — a little more 
 money — they obtain with it the privilege of stu- 
 pidity and dullness. 
 
 It would, indeed, be in vain to institute fur- 
 ther inquiry upon the question, why Corinna 
 wept ; besides, she was only a negress. 
 
 The baron had harldy time to spring from his 
 saddle, and hurry to the carriage, before Corinna 
 so suddenly stood by its steps. He succeeded, 
 however, in appearing at the proper moment to 
 take his lady's hand, and ofl'er her his arm, 
 v\hereupon Dr. Thorfin, who stood by with 
 Robert, took the liberty to ofler the same civility 
 to his sister, after he had been introduced by her 
 brother as a friend of Hinango. 
 
 And Miss Fanny, also, had been weeping ! 
 Strange ! She was dressed in black silk, with 
 her hair a I'enfant. Miss Susan was in green 
 satin, with an extremely tasteful coillure a la 
 jeune Anglaise, in which an unpretending 
 white rose was conspicuous. She entered the 
 garden gate, on the arm of her friend, and re- 
 mained standing, with all due politeness, to ofiier 
 the precedence to her niece from the La Plata, 
 whom Dr. Thorfin waited upon. 
 
 Dolores had remarked tliis stranger in Hi- 
 nango's company on board the Nordstjernan, and 
 now learned who he was. The presence of this 
 man wrought in her a certain composure, for 
 which she could only account as an indirect 
 communication with the Scandinavian, who had, 
 as it were, appeared to her at the scaflbld of 
 jVlphonso, and was so nearly akin to her in tlie 
 element of humanity. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin conveyed to her the most heart- 
 felt greeting from Horatio, and cordial compli- 
 ments from Hinango and Alvarez, whereupon 
 she inquired after them all, with unaflected in- 
 terest, and desired to know, especially, whether 
 Horatio had found a residence iu the country, iu 
 the neighborhood of the city.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 191 
 
 " Horatio and Alvarez will to-morrow oc- 
 cupy apartments in the country house in wliich 
 I reside," replied Dr. Thorlin ; " and we sliall 
 certainly lead a very agreeable life. Unfortu- 
 nately, however, Hinango will not lone; remain 
 with us, since he intends, as you probably are 
 aware, to go to sea again. Perhaps you are ac- 
 quainted with his destination," said he in a low 
 tone, with a stolen glance at the baron, who 
 strode before him, as if he were studying the 
 role of Mephistopheles walking in the garden 
 with Martha. 
 
 " 1 know his intention," returned Dolores in 
 as low a tone, " and feel that it proceeds from 
 the depths of his heart, that points out to liim 
 his future. How I envy him in his position as 
 a man ; even although I am not quite certain, in 
 myself, whether I would exchange my female 
 soul for a manly spirit." 
 
 Dr. Thorfin was just about to reply, as Mr, 
 Thomson approached them, having for a long 
 wdiile observed the confidential conversation 
 and heard the name of Hinango. He had in 
 tentionally deferred selecting his niece, that he 
 might, if possible, arrive at some idea of her 
 connexion with the " notorious privateer," of 
 whom he had occasionally heard first one thing, 
 and then another. 
 
 He now thought, however, that the two had 
 talked together " enough," and almost regretted 
 having invited his family physician to dinner. 
 But who could have suspected that he was to 
 become the electro-magnetic conductor of a 
 spiritual "rapport" between Dolores and the 
 privateer .' 
 
 The old widower now greeted the two, as if 
 he just perceived them, welcomed his guest, 
 and took the opportunity to give his niece an 
 earnest pressure of the hand, which, from pure 
 heartiness, was almost too strong. 
 
 " I must introduce the Baron de Spandau to 
 you," cried he, as a thought suddenly struck 
 him ; permit me to present him to you. Hardly 
 had he said these words, when he had already 
 seized the baron's arm, to the especial vexation 
 of Miss Susan, who was enjoying his agreeable 
 presence, so perfectly after her heart's desire. 
 
 Instead, however, of leading his future bro- 
 ther-in-law directly to his niece and Dr. Thor- 
 fin, Mr Thomson took a circuit with him 
 through an alley of the park, as he had some- 
 thing to say to him. 
 
 " My niece has arrived, as you know. Baron," 
 he begin, after coughing, and panting for some 
 time, as if something stood in the way of the 
 words that he wished to utter. 
 
 "Ah! Your amiable niece from Buenos 
 Ayres ! who arrived yesterday in the Nord- 
 stjernan, as I heard !" replied the baron. 
 
 " And will remain here with us for some- 
 time, with my nephew, Mr. Robert Walker." 
 
 " She seems a very interesting person, your 
 amiable niece, Miss Walker r" 
 
 " Miss Fanny Walker, at your service; Miss 
 Fanny is her name. Will you permit me to make 
 you acquainted with her ?" 
 
 " You will flatter me infinitely, for I do not 
 recollect to have seen her in Buenos Ayres ; I 
 was not, indeed, introduced at your brotlier-in- 
 lavv's " 
 
 At these words, the baron turned his steps, to 
 meet the proposal for an introduction, when Mr . 
 
 Thomson seized him by the button, coughed 
 again, and at length said, in a peculiarly low 
 voice : " You remember a brochure of poetry 
 baron, which I handed to you as a novelty some 
 weeks since .^" 
 
 " Brochure of poetry ?" repeated the spy, 
 staring at the sky, as if his memory contained 
 no brochure at all, nor a single thing of the sort 
 
 " To be sure, baron, you must remember ; you 
 must recollect the Elegies .' tlie " Elegias dela 
 Plata ?" as the little book was called. 
 
 " Elegias dcla Plata .' no, surely not ; I must 
 have entirely forgotten it." 
 
 " That is strange !" whispered the old wid- 
 ower, " Did I not give it to you one evening in 
 the Hotel Faroux, when we were supping there 
 with the guarda mor .' when I first received it ?" 
 
 " No ! you are mistaken this time !" replied 
 the baron hastily, and with peculiar decision. 
 
 " Then I will never rely on my memory 
 again," said Mr. Thomson, sunk in profound 
 endeavors to read the singular riddle. 
 
 " It seems to me as if you once told me of a 
 brochure, as if you had the goodness to say to 
 me, that you would give it me to read. But it 
 is obscure to me " 
 
 " I said nothing to you, then, of the authoress 
 of the Elegies ! nothing at all of the sort?" 
 
 " Not a word ! not a syllable !" 
 
 " Hem ! singular that ! Then I must have 
 spoken of it to you in a dream." 
 
 " It is very easily possible ! even very proba- 
 ble ; but you have not, when awake, and espe- 
 cially in the Hotel Faroux, as you suppose, said 
 a word to me about the authoress ; and I never 
 saw the brochure." 
 
 " So much the better, then ! Now, baron, I 
 will just beg you, of all things in the world, not 
 to let it be perceived in the presence of my 
 niece, that you have ever heard any thing of — of 
 the Elegies for — for it is a secret ; the rela- 
 tions in Buenos Ayres, as you know, between the 
 Confederados and the Unitarios, are — are very 
 critical, and the Argentine ambassador here in 
 Rio, or some spy, might learn something " 
 
 " A spy .' some spy or other .'" interrupted the 
 agent of the secret police. " Do you really be- 
 lieve that there are foreign spies here in Rio ? 
 Can that really be the case ?" 
 
 '^ They say so ! people suspect it, and even 
 maintain it." 
 
 " Mr. Thomson ! whoever says that, fabricates 
 chimeras. I ask you, what is a foreign spy to ob- 
 serve here in Rio ? Perhaps he is to count the 
 bags of coffee, that are appraised at the alfan- 
 dega ? or listen to the babble of Peter and Paul, 
 in tlie Cafe de Commerce in the Rua Direita ? or 
 smell at what we eat in the Hotel Faroux .' I 
 sliould like to know what a foreign spy could 
 find to do here in Rio ?" 
 
 " It certainly appears very ridiculous to mo, 
 also," replied Mr. Thomson ; " the more I reflect 
 upon what a spy could properly spy out here, 
 so much the more improbable does it seem to 
 me, that there should be foreign spies here — 
 although, on the other hand, I have learned that 
 they have found out where the broclmres for 
 Rio Grande were printed — wlio printed them I 
 mean — for example, the epistle of Mazzini, 
 and the lilce." 
 
 " Have the like pamphlets or tracts been 
 printed here in Rio ;" inquired the future bro-
 
 192 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Ilipr-in-law of tlie old widower. " That is i 
 tirely new to me !" 
 
 '• You do not appenr to concern yourself 
 much with political reading, as I observe !" 
 
 "I! with political reading!" laughed the 
 other. " What an idea! I have something else to 
 do here ! You have long been aware that your 
 brother-in-law, has formed the plan of foundins; 
 a British viceroyalty in Para ; to connect the 
 River Amazon with the Parana by a canal; and in 
 this manner to bring the whole of South America, 
 
 by degrees, under British protection -" 
 
 '* Ah, indaed !" interrupted the old man as- 
 tonislied in the highest degi'ee ; " and you are 
 
 perhaps liere to .'" 
 
 " To play into the hands of your brother-in- 
 law ; as I am trying to carry out the plan of 
 transferring the Signal Mountain over tliere, to 
 British ownership. I mean to promote the con- 
 tract of sale ; to have the government sell the 
 Signal Mountain to England." 
 
 Mr. Thomson stopped and stared at the baron, 
 with his mouth wide open, perfectly astonislied 
 that he had, at length, quite accidentally, learned 
 the object of his conTing to Rio. 
 
 " Is that possible .' you are, then, so to say, a 
 secret agent in the English service .'" 
 
 " Mr. Thomson !" whispered the spy, "one 
 confidence is worthy of another. You olfer me, 
 so to spealv, unlimited confidence in family re- 
 lations, and the like ; I, also, owe you mine. 
 IVhat I have just revealed to you, must remain 
 tile strictest secret between us; do you under- 
 stand .' I had an audience yesterday, with the 
 Minister of Finance — a private audience — and 
 can give you the assurance that the affair is go- 
 ing forward. Let that suffice you ! And I do not 
 concern myself with political reading — not I ! 
 But intnxluce me to your amiable niece." 
 
 A great weight had fallen from the heart of 
 good old Mr. Thomson, as he had now not only 
 convinced himself that the baron did not con- 
 cern himself about political brochures, but that, 
 also, he did not know the least about the Ele- 
 gies of La Plata, and of course could not entertain 
 the least suspicion in relation to the incognito of 
 the young lady from Buenos Ayres. 
 
 They then hastily approached the family 
 group, and the formal introduction took place. 
 The baron did not seem to give any more atten- 
 tion to the niece than politeness on his part 
 required, and paid all the more to Miss Susan, 
 who, on this day, appeared ten, if not fifteen 
 years younger. She availed herself of many 
 (ipportunities to laugh at the baron's jokes, in 
 order to display her beautiful teeth, which the 
 latter, with incoatestible justice, had once ad- 
 mired. 
 
 " How much do you weigh, doctor .'" cried the 
 old widower in a peculiarly happy mood, the 
 weight having been removed from his heart. 
 " Come doctor ! we will see how heavy you 
 are, and you, also, Miss Fanny .' we will all be 
 weighe<l ; we have stiil time before dinner !" 
 After this ijivitation, he started away from the 
 family group, ran to a private door, which led 
 into a fruat iiall, and into the green parlor; ar- 
 ranged the platform scales, and waited for bis 
 niece, whom he would not exactly name first, 
 but to whom, of course, the doctor gave the pre- 
 cedence. 
 Dolores, not coming within a thousand miles 
 
 distance of the idea which lay at the fotinda- 
 tion of such social amusement, stepped upon the 
 eventful scales with perfect unconcern, and was 
 just as far from remarking the expression ol 
 anxiety and expectation on the good humored 
 countenance of her protector, who solemnized 
 this moment as " an event in his life." 
 
 " One hundred and thirty-six !" he exclaimed, 
 with inexpressible satisfaction. " A hundred 
 and thirty-six pounds ! and I'll bet that she'll 
 weigh a hundred and ninety-six in a year ! for 
 you have a tendency. Miss Fanny ! a tendency 
 to corpulency, 1 assure you !" 
 
 The baron laughed out loud, and looked at 
 Dr. Thorfin, as if lie wished to remind him of 
 their " table talk" in the Hotel Faroux. 
 
 " A youthful glow flushed the cheeks of the 
 old widower, as he felt that he had nearly be- 
 trayed himself to his two table companions. 
 
 " I would not have believed that you were so 
 heavy !" said Rol^ert, laughing, aa he reached 
 his hand to his " sister,' when she jumped down 
 from the scales 
 
 " I feel at times that I possess strength," re- 
 plied Dolores, smiling likewise, "but whether I 
 am of material weight ? that questiou never oc- 
 curred to me." 
 
 Old Achilles, who was invested with the ofEce 
 of valet, just then announced that dinner was 
 ready. The bai-on ofiered his arm, with all due 
 ceremony, to his fair future, the old uncle led in 
 his niece, and Dr. Thorfin and Robert walked 
 together into the family apartment, in which 
 hung the four portrait^ of the old widower's 
 sainted wives, who, altogether, in their bloom, 
 weighed eight hundred and forty-three and three- 
 fourth pounds avoirdupois. 
 
 P.*N*^>-V**-- 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE ALFANDEGA AND THE CHEESE. 
 
 The three travelling companions, from the La 
 Plata river, sat again in their common parlor, 
 over their aromatic coffee. It was Monday 
 morning. They were expecting Dr. Thorfin, 
 who was to accompany them to the alfandega, 
 where they had agreed to meet Robert Walker, 
 to take joint possession of their travelling eti'ects. 
 
 The bustle of the lively business street, Rua 
 Direita, become more and more varied. The sin- 
 gular monotonous cry of the coffee laden negroes, 
 ascended with a peculiar sound, into the open 
 windows, and brought the strangers to the bal- 
 cony. 
 
 They saw a train of some thirty Ethiopians, 
 in national costume — that is to say, naked, all 
 but short quasi pantaloons, which enveloped 
 the hips, without covering the thighs. Each 
 carried on his head a heavy bag of coffee, and 
 trotted along, with his body bent forward, one 
 arm raised to the bag, the other elbow drawn up 
 with the fist stretched forward, all the while 
 staring straight before him, with downcast eyes, 
 aiid at each rapid step, ejaculating sounds nearly 
 like " Doi-doy — Doi-doy ! !" forming, in thirty- 
 fold gradations, from the deepest bass to the 
 highest alto, a singularly original, but sadly 
 striking chorus.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 193 
 
 In front of this noisy concert, sprang a negro, 
 in the same garb, who represented the orches- 
 tra; his instrument was a funnel with leather 
 drawn over it, in which rattled a handful of 
 coffee grains, as a suitable accompaniment to 
 the chorus, or rather to mark tlie time, instead 
 of the drumstick of the tambour major. With 
 this monotonous cry of Doi-doy, the poor devils 
 trotted on, pursuing their course with as much 
 diligence as if the fate of Brazil depended upon 
 their not losing a moment. 
 
 " IVIournful lot of colored humanity !" sighed 
 Hinango, to whom this spectacle, although no 
 novelty, was always painful. " And have these 
 men heads, only for the purpose of carrying a 
 coffee bag, of some one hundred and fifty pounds 
 weight, on a trot, from the warehouses to the 
 alfandega, and from the alfandega to the lighter 
 that conveys the freight on board .' while the 
 majority of the citizens here are negroes and 
 mulattoes, who are distinguished for their hon- 
 esty, diligence, and morality !" 
 
 " I cannot even conceive the economy of such 
 transportation," remarked Horatio, looking after 
 the train. " Could not these thirty sacks of cof- 
 fee be as easily carried on a single dray with some 
 horses, as in such a manner by thirty men ."' 
 
 The entrance of Dr. Thorfin interrupted the 
 conversation. He waited until the friends had 
 prepared to go out. All four left the hotel, al- 
 though Alvarez had no baggage to take posses- 
 sion of They walked to the neighboring build- 
 ing of the alfandega, where the captain had sent 
 ail the travelling effects of the passengers. 
 
 They had hardly found the expected objects, 
 before Robert Walker, according to agreement, 
 entered likewise, to open his own trunks, as well 
 as the trunks and boxes of his " sister," which 
 were now overhauled and examined. 
 
 The crowd of functionaries, tradespeople, and 
 carrier negroes, in the spacious halls and courts, 
 and passages of the buildings, which served as 
 warehouses of the alfandega, moved around the 
 strangers. A thousand objects, from foreign 
 countries, here and there attract the attention of 
 one and another. 
 
 " There is the elegant negro, with his white 
 servants," whispered Horatio, in the ear of his 
 friend Hinango, " the same that lately went past 
 our hotel with the young lady " 
 
 *' An interesting coimtenance," returned Hi- 
 nango, " draw him in crayon, without reference 
 to color, and every cultivated European would 
 acknowledge him as his equal, and admire his 
 intellectual expression." 
 
 " What is in this box ?" enquired a custom 
 house othcer of young Walker, touching a con- 
 siderably large, flat box, which was just opened. 
 
 " An old family picture," replied Robert, 
 " the portrait of one of my aunts." 
 
 " It must pay duty ; the frame also ; the pic- 
 ture twenty-five per cent., the frame one hun- 
 dred per cent, on the value." 
 
 " Art seems to be treated here like a hated 
 foreigner ;" whispered Horatio." 
 
 " Even if such a system should foster art in 
 Brazil," replied Hinango, ** it is at least difficult 
 to procure for young artists, good originals of the 
 old masters for study." 
 
 The box was opened, and the living image of 
 Dolores, in an old fashioned dress, appeared. It 
 was the picture of her deceased mother, painted 
 3d 
 
 in Madrid, shortly before her marriage, when 
 she accompanied her father, who went to Eu- 
 rope as ambassador from the Spanish colony. 
 
 The worth of the picture and the frame was 
 specified, and it escaped many, that the distin- 
 guished negro joined the group, and observed 
 the picture with evidently heightening interest. 
 
 Horatio and Hinango were the first to remaric 
 the attention of the Ethiopian, who, absorbed in 
 the contemplation of the picture, did not observe 
 them. He was a tall, thin man, of a regular 
 Ethiopian figure, with the above specified liu- 
 mane countenance. He was dressed, according 
 to Brazilian custom, in white linen, with a fine 
 white beaver hat His shirt buttons, watch 
 chain, rings, etc., were ornamented with valua- 
 ble jewels. At a distance behind him stood a 
 white servant, apparently Portuguese, in blue 
 livery, with gold buttons. 
 
 A custom house officer threw the cover over 
 the picture, and the negro gentleman roused 
 himself, as if from a dream, looked hastily around 
 him upon the bystanders, as if he would ask for- 
 giveness for having taken the liberty of looking 
 at the picture, and stepped backward some paces 
 without a word. 
 
 " Do you know this man?" inquired Hinan 
 go, in a low tone, of the custom house officer 
 who was inspecting his effects. 
 
 " To be sure 1" replied he ; " it is a million 
 aire from Goa, in tlie East Indies, who, on his 
 arrival here, paid duty on a thousand contos in 
 gold coin * as travelling money, besides the cargo 
 of the vessel, which belonged to him. He has 
 two daughters with white governesses, and lives 
 in the Rua do Valongo, where he has a palace. I 
 am not surprised that he looked at the portrait ; 
 he appears to be a connoisseur and admirer of 
 paintings. If I am not mistaken, he brought 
 out many valuable pictures with him. He very 
 often walks around here in the alfandega, and 
 occasionally has something to send off." 
 
 The information was certainly sufficient, as it 
 indicated the standing of the negro gentleman ; 
 but how the portrait ot the mother of Dolores 
 could so highly interest him, as was evidently 
 the case, as to make him forgetful of the wnole 
 alfandega around him, remained a riddle, that in • 
 voluntarily occupied the travellers from La Pla':a. 
 
 The interesting millionaire from Goa remainei 
 standing at a distance, as if he was ooservmg 
 other objects — nut belonging to the passen- 
 gers of the Niirdstjernan. Horatio's boxes were 
 opened, and the various apparatus of an artist, or 
 diUetanti in oil painting, were unpacked. The 
 negro from Goa now appeared to have made suf- 
 ficient observations, once more looked at the 
 South .American, to whom the painting apparatus 
 appeared to belong, and slowly withdrew — first 
 looking at one thing, and then at another, that 
 caught his eye. 
 
 The resemblance of the picture to the daugh- 
 ter of the lady whose portrait it was, evidently 
 endangered the incognito of the poetess, in case 
 the Indian negro (which still remained inexpli- 
 cable) had inspected the picture as a portrait, 
 and not merely as an interesting oil painting, 
 and, (what was equally inexplicable,) perhaps, 
 connected with it peculiar recollections. 
 
 * Gold and silver coin pay two per cent, duty in Bra- 
 zil, (inport aid export,) as tliese metals are considered 
 productions of the country, and articles of commerce.
 
 194 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 Alvarez conversed with Horatio about the 
 singularity of this meeting, and reminded him 
 of an involuntary exclamation of Dolores, on 
 Doard the Nordstjernan, when he mentioned to 
 her the name of his mother. " She has taken 
 the secret with her to the grave !" she said, at 
 that time, half aloud, to herself. 
 
 " Granting," returned Horatio, " that the in- 
 terest of this Indian negro in the portrait of her 
 mother is, in some way or other, connected with 
 this secret, no one can give us any information 
 respecting it but just this Senhor from Goa, and 
 it will not answer for us to approach him on 
 this subject, inasmuch as Dolores passes here for 
 Miss Fanny Walker." 
 
 ' A true portrait has, many times already, 
 given occasion to the most singular discoveries," 
 observed Hinango; " and it appears to me that 
 this gentleman from Goa will not be wanting in 
 discretion, if he should be disposed to approach 
 us on his part. We must wait for that." 
 
 " Inconceivable !" exclaimed Alvarez, sud- 
 denly awaking from a train of ideas. " Senora 
 Dolores said those words when I mentioned the 
 name of my uncle, Garringos, whose traces I 
 sought for years in Madrid, and in all Spain. 
 This picture, you say, was painted in Madrid, 
 prior to the year ISI'2, when my uncle disap- 
 peared thence. Can this expression of Senora 
 Dolores, in relation to her mother, have any 
 connexion with the name of my uncle, and, of 
 course, with his fate ?" 
 
 " ' She has carried the secret with her to the 
 grave,' " replied Horatio, " is all that we have 
 learned, and probably Senora Dolores, also, 
 knows no more in relation to the secret." 
 
 The friends had comiileted their business at 
 the alfandcga, and tlie requisite ' negres de gagne' 
 were loaded, to carry away their effects. Robert 
 was very serious, and appeared self-absorbed. 
 The lively unconcern with which he had greeted 
 his fellow voyagers, only a few evenings before, 
 had vanished. The friends who surrounded 
 him, expected that something disagreeable had 
 occurred at his uncle's house, in consequence of 
 the arrival of Dolores. 
 
 " I will send my trunks for the present with 
 yours, to the Hotel du Nord," said he to Ormur. 
 " I occupy a pavilion in the neighborhood of the 
 city, but, henceforth, I also wish to live incog- 
 nito. I have given up my room at my uncle's 
 country house to my ' sister ;' that is the reason 
 why I occupy a separate dwelling. I will tell 
 you the rest by and by." 
 
 " 1 thank you again for your friendship," re- 
 turned Hinango, " and hardly know how 1 have 
 acquired it." 
 
 " I cannot even explain to myself," asserted 
 the youth, " wherefore I feel so drawn towards 
 you ! It seems to me, however, as if the associa- 
 tion with you, during our voyage, had given a 
 new ' sounding-board ' to my inward being ! as if 
 all the tones of life, which come in contact with 
 me, reverberate with deejier harmony. You see 
 I am obliged, involuntarily, to express myself 
 poetically. 
 
 " If my individuality," replied Ormur, " ope- 
 rates upon you with a certain attraction, my 
 dear young friend, it is a proof to me that your 
 mind, or your inner life, as I may call it, is un- 
 folded in youthful purity, and feels itself drawn 
 towards me, tlirough affinity with me. For you 
 
 must know that there are men, who, notwith- 
 standing their advance in age, preserve in them- 
 selves all purity and depth of mind, in spite 
 of all their bitter experience, in spite of all 
 tlie storms of life ! Tlie world declares such a 
 state of mind, to be ' infirmity, over excitement, 
 nervous weakness,' and -" 
 
 A man of business approached the gi'oup from 
 the Nordstjernan, interrupting the conversation. 
 It was Mr. Forro, who greeted young Walker, 
 and inquired after his liealth. He had just come 
 from Mr. Thomson's office, where he had provi- 
 sionally arranged the new business. 
 
 Hinango and his friends left the alfandega, to 
 despatch their eft'ects to the chacara in which 
 Dr. Thorfin had prepared rooms for tliem. Ro- 
 bert Walker exchanged some words with the 
 agent of the naturalist, and then mounted his 
 horse. From necessary caution in relation to the 
 incognito of tlie lady, he deferred the transporta- 
 tion of liis etfects to da Gloria until late in the 
 evening, but hurried out there himself, to speak 
 to her, if only to ascertain whether the villa 
 was ready for him. 
 
 " How in the world could you be such a jack- 
 ass, as to shut yourself up, and by that means ruin 
 the whole business that occasioned your coming 
 to Rio .'" These words were addressed by a 
 man to his younger companion, as they passed 
 Robert Walker at one of the gates of the Alfan- 
 dega, just as he had given his horse the spur. 
 
 This was Mr. Franz Rossbruck, and the 
 " jackass" was his nephew, our " gentleman." 
 
 " 1 did not shut myself up !" replied the lat- 
 ter ; " The young man, the Swiss, locked me in ; 
 he admits that himself!" 
 
 " Mr. Doubly has related the whole affair to 
 me, circumstantially, and I can only praise his 
 conduct. I should, in his place, have done the 
 same. A young fellow comes in, speaks Eng- 
 lish, and gives himself out for a connexion ot 
 the house; considers himself too good to sit at 
 table with his equals, and what was still more 
 odd, to exchange a word with them ; goes out 
 and in, and all the time, without saying a word, 
 and shuts himself up again in the interior of the 
 apai-tment, allotted to him as a connexion of the 
 house ! Mr. Doubly then simply said to me, 
 ' When this ' would be gentleman ' had four 
 times declined our invitation to your table, 1 
 doubted that he was your nephew. I thought 
 him an impostor, or a deranged person, and, in 
 either case, it was incumbent on me to take 
 measures to prevent his injuring us. As an im- 
 postor he might rob us, and as a crazy man, he 
 might do, God knows what ! I therelbre had 
 bi-ead and water placed in his room, and locked 
 the door with my own hand, to await your re- 
 turn." 
 
 " And I sat there from Saturday evening, un- 
 til this morning, two nights and a d,iy, with 
 bread and water," growled the "gentleman," 
 with a visage a yard long. 
 
 " You deserve to be locked up for a year, on 
 bread and water, with some of the real English 
 dandies whom you try to ape — without posses- 
 sing a spark of English business skill. You may 
 go back again to Europe ! We can make no use 
 here of such a gentleman as you !" 
 
 " Good morning Sr. Rossbriick ! how are 
 you ? it's a coolly pleasant morning !" sounded
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 195 
 
 RCMthe dandy's uncle, who beheld, to the height- 
 ening of his just displeasure, Senhor Forro's well 
 known confiscable business physiognomy. 
 
 "Good nioviiini;, Senhor Forro! how are 
 j'ou r" grumbled he, ha!f over his shoulder. 
 
 "Your nephew, I presume.'" conlinued (he 
 other, with a sort of mischievously friendly 
 smile, looking at tliB young rnan, who pressed 
 down his patent gloves between the fingers. 
 
 " I have just left your ofiice, .Senhor Forro, 
 and hear, to my great dissatisfaction, that you 
 deny us the signature to the contract." 
 
 I regret, extremely, that you did not sign the 
 contract at the right time. We waited until the 
 last moment appoiiite.! by the last agreement. 
 The partner ol your house, whose arrival was 
 announced by the ' Jorna! do Commercio,' might 
 have done us the honor only to send a negro to 
 us with the information that he was here, and 
 the business would still have remained at your 
 disposal. 
 
 The uncle of the gentleman bit his lips, in 
 the overflow of his gall, but found not a word 
 of reasonable objection. 
 
 " You know, however, that Mr. Closting has 
 received a considerable advance from us, as 
 earnest in this business — about t^vo contos di 
 reis '." he, at length said, with a peevish air. 
 
 " Senhor Closting ! advance ! — 1 know no- 
 thing about that Senhor Francisco ! that is a 
 private ailair — entirely a private atfair. You have 
 no claim on our firm ; it does not concern me in 
 the least. Ifs a fine coolly pleasant morning. 
 Good morning, Senhor Francisco ! may 1 offer 
 you a pincli?" in()uired he, with the utmost po- 
 liteness, as he was about to depart, and took out 
 his box. 
 
 " I (hank you !" grumbled the uncle of the 
 Anglicised nephew, and Mr. Forro took a pinch 
 himself, and, mingling with the crowd of the 
 alfandega, vanished behind the loaded negroes. 
 
 The " gentleman " rnnde a face as if he was en- 
 deavoring to invent a powder which " should put 
 millions in circulation." He trembled for the 
 moment when his uncle might find out that he 
 had given a hint to a young Englishman on 
 board the Nordstjernan, in regard to the under- 
 taking ; an imprudence, on his part, which he 
 perceived himself, although he had done it with 
 the best intention in the woi-ld — to make known 
 the " respectability" of his house. He walked on 
 with his uncle, like a school boy who has taken 
 the premium for stupidity, and at length looked 
 for his English baggage, with the caligraphic 
 inscription : " William Rossbriick, Esq." 
 
 While these scenes took place in the halls of 
 the alfandega. Dr. Merbold sat with the Baron 
 de Spandau, in the private parlor of the latter, 
 in the Hotel Faroux, at a breakfast, at which 
 fresh Minas cheese, the favorite dish of the natu- 
 ralist, was conspicuous. 
 
 " So you have remarked, Herr Baron, that I 
 am fond of new cheese !" laughed the German 
 savant, as he cut himself a thick slice. 
 
 " I confess that 1 am a great friend of cheese 
 myself, and this Minas cheese has really a great 
 resemblance to our German cream cheese." 
 
 " More than the Germans to the Mineiros !" 
 returned the entomologist. " We Germans are 
 peace-loving, faithful subjects of the most glori- 
 ous confederate princes, and do not trouble our- 
 
 selves with politics like the turbulent Mineiros 
 up there, in the mountains. They are truly a 
 rebellious set ! One cannot catch a beetle there 
 witlioiit meeting some hotheaded fellow. They 
 are like the French, and the Spaniards, and the 
 It.dlans, and all th« Catholic nations of Europe ! 
 who are always rebelling ! Our Protestants in 
 Germany deserve praise for that! they do not 
 allow themselves to be so easily excited !" 
 
 " That is true!" interrupted the baron ; " Pro- 
 testantism is a good fulminating powder against 
 revolutionary schemes ! Since Dr. Luther called 
 ujjon the German princes to shoot down the 
 rebellious peasants in Thuringia and Suabia, 
 peace and order have pretty generally prevailed 
 in all Protestant countries ! We have our uni- 
 versities to thank for that! especially our pro- 
 fessors of theology ! and also the ' pastors !' 
 Fathers of families will not willingly allow 
 themselves to be disturbed in their official dili- 
 gence in the RU|)tia! bed !" 
 
 " You are right, upon my soul !" cried Dr. 
 Merbold, astonished by this observation, "that 
 is true, too !" 
 
 " The Protestant ecclesiastics are generally 
 demagogues as students. If, however, an arch 
 demagogue takes a wife, all is over with his pa- 
 triotism ! Among a thousand, there will not be 
 three exceptions to this rule. The Protestant 
 ' dogmatic of marriage,' my dear doctor, has a 
 very peculiar, mysterious power." 
 
 " That is just what physiologists assert .'" 
 affirmed Dr. Merbold, " and lonce disputed, for 
 an hour, with a professor in Gottingen, who 
 wished to maintain that wedlock was more 
 interesting than entomology— which he endea- 
 vored to prove, on the ground of experience, as 
 he was both married and a good entomologist ! 
 As relates to myself, I merely took the position, 
 that entomology had always so confined me, 
 that 1 never had time to make the necessary ac» 
 quaintance and experience which ought to pre- 
 cede marriage. My acquaintance and experi- 
 ence are confined, as you know, entirely to the 
 beetle world." 
 
 " Then 1 presume you know this married 
 pair?" inquired the baron, handing him, with a 
 significant look, a neat paper box, ornamented 
 with Fanny Elssler's portrait in lithograph. 
 
 " Hey ! the devil ! a pair of Spinoza hoods !" 
 cried Dr. Merbold, springing up from his chair, 
 and letting a great piece of Minas cheese fall on 
 the floor. " Hey ! the devil ! that would be 
 something for the entomological museum at 
 Berlin !" 
 
 " Will you accept them, as a present from me, 
 doctor.' you can send them, in your own name, 
 to whatever government you like !" 
 
 " No, baron ! you are too good ! too gene- 
 rous ! I will guarantee you, through this pair 
 of beetles, the title of a ' Real corresponding 
 member ' of some royal academy of science or 
 other ; and will you relinquish such an advantage 
 to me .' Really, are you in earnest, baron .' really 
 in earnest ?" 
 
 " Why not .' as I tell you, the pair of beetles 
 is designed for you, and no one else !" 
 
 " Then I thank you a million times !" cried 
 
 the entomologist, and pressed the hand of the 
 
 spy, while his little gray eyes sparkled through 
 
 tears. 
 
 1 " They shall go to Europe with my ' Simplex
 
 198 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 MerboWensis,' with all the treasnres that I 
 brought with me from Buenos Ayres ! where the 
 abominable revolutionary war with the Patago- 
 nians, or cannibals, or Orientals, as they call the 
 rebels, unfortunately hindered my researches. 
 "What canaille the people are here in South 
 America, Herr Baron ! Such a revolutionary 
 rabble, that one cannot even quietly collect 
 beetles, without being tal<en for a rebel ! and 
 that, even on board of a Swedish vessel." 
 
 " On board of a Swedish vessel !" exclaimed 
 the baron, as if he was extremely surprised. 
 " You did not encounter a visitation on board ou 
 account of rebels .'" 
 
 " Visitation • Herr Baron, I can tell you some- 
 thing about that ! I believe I came here with a 
 whole cargo of rebels ! at least, I would not give 
 a patack for the loyal sentiments of all the cabin 
 passengers, with the exception of one, who, to 
 the honor of our nation, was a German ; a IMr. 
 Pferdebriick, or Rossbriick as he is called." 
 
 '* What is that you say .' Yon came in the 
 Nordstjeman, did you not? with a young Eng- 
 lishman and his sister, as I see by the news- 
 paper." 
 
 " With a young Englishman, certainly, and 
 there was a young lady there, also, birt whether 
 she was the sister of the young Englishman — 
 the police knows best. The clerk of the Eng- 
 lish house, who lodged with me in a " private 
 cabin," did not have much to say, when I began 
 about the young lady. It seemed to me a sort 
 of political abduction. A Russian naval officer, 
 who appeared to have escaped from hunting the 
 sable in Siberia — Hinango is his name — he 
 seemed to me to be very intimate with the young 
 lady ; and they two jiollticised and philoso- 
 phised in Spanish, by moonshine and daylight, 
 and a fugitive came on l)oard, like Roller in 
 Schiller's ' Robbers,' direct from the gallows ! — 
 he had even yet ' the rope around his neck,' that 
 bis gviitar hung to." 
 
 The spy allowed the entomologist to talk on, 
 undisturbed, and seizing a number of the " Jor- 
 nal do Comniercio' wliich lay on his writing 
 table, he ran over the list of passengers on Ihiard 
 the Nordstjernan, and inquired, incidentally : 
 ** Do you not know the name of the fugitive ' 
 
 It was not Horatio de P , who is here among 
 
 the passengers !" 
 
 " Oh, no ! that is the young man whose onrfff 
 was shot the morning when we sailed ; he is a 
 silent, good-natured young man ; it is a pity be 
 has fallen into such bad company. Oh, no ! he 
 did not come on board as a fugitive. It was a 
 fellow called Alvarez von der Barea, or some- 
 thing like it. The captain had drawn him out 
 of tlie water, just as we were going to sea, and I 
 nearly had a quarrel with the Russian when the 
 vessel came after us and would have taken him 
 off; and I believe they had also some designs 
 upon the young lady — for that she is the sister 
 of the yoimg Englishman, no one shall make 
 me believe. No ! Ur. Merbold is not so stupid I 
 And they were all good friends with the priva- 
 teer, or pirate, when he came on board ! all went 
 on merrily ! and we saluted each other when we 
 went to sea in company." 
 
 ** You do not eat any cheese, doctor. You en- 
 tirely forget your cheese and ycor cotfee ! and 
 your beefsteak is getting cold !" 
 
 " It's no matter for that, Herr Baron, thank 
 yoo ! I tell you that was a rebellious passage ! 
 The corsair was called Barrigallows, or some- 
 thing of the sort : He seemed to me, also, to 
 be • ripe for the gallows !' And then there was 
 murder on the fishing boat, or some such thing 
 that would have taken us ! The crew re- 
 belled. They threw one of the officers over- 
 board, and gagged the other. Mr. Daily saw 
 the whole of it, and then told me all about it, 
 and explained to me what had been going on 
 around us, for I, myself, Herr Baron, had enough 
 to do with my beetles, and could not give much 
 heed to the rebels ! but Mr. Daily remarked, i< 
 he were captain of tlie Nordstjernan, he would 
 make money by this opportunity. He s;iid there 
 were two heads on board, either of which was 
 worth a thousand pounds sterling. I, however, 
 would certainly not have given these two Spi- 
 noza hoods for them. I believe he meant the 
 young lady and myself, for he attached great 
 value to my entomology, which certainly is in 
 my head, and has its worth, to be sure !" 
 
 Dr Merbold ate cheese, and drank coftee, 
 contemplated his Spinosa hoods from lime to 
 time, and answered all the queries of the spy, 
 in regard to the passengers of the Nordstjernan, 
 and theiv interesting voyage from the river La 
 Plrtta to Ki«7 d« Janeiro.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 BOOK V 
 
 C HAPTER I. 
 
 YANA KIYRM. 
 
 We now find ourselves amongst the Toldog, of 
 a Patagonian tribe of the Inaken, between the 
 Lago Grande and Lago do Tehuel, at the outlet 
 of the Cusu Leova, in the Rio Nei^ro, in about 
 38" south latitude, and O'/'J longitude west from 
 Greenwich — nearly 400 hundred miles \V. S. W. 
 from Buenos Ayres, where the European can 
 only determine his route by means of liie com- 
 pass. 
 
 To make the scenes intelli-jible, wiiich nnfcld 
 themselves before us, it will be necessary that we 
 should, with all brevity, institute a geographical 
 and statistical review of the strange locality in 
 which this race of ])eople move about. 
 
 The Patagonians— one of tlie most fabulous 
 nations on earth, insomuch as for centuries the 
 most singular descriptions have been dissemi- 
 nated of their gigantic size — inhabittlie northern 
 plains, extending from the Sts'aits of Magellan 
 to the Rio Negro, and Irom the eastern declivi- 
 ties of the Cordillera de !os Andes to the shores 
 •if the South Atlantic Ocean. 
 
 They call themselves, in their sonorous lan- 
 guage, Tehueiehes, (the northern,) and Inaken, 
 (the southern,) and border, towards the moun- 
 tains of the Andes, upon the Aucas, or Aron- 
 eanas, who call tliemselves Huilichi, likewise 
 a southern race, and towares the coast they ad- 
 join the Puelchus, little distinguished from them 
 in manners and character. 
 
 The total number of these tribes of the Pata- 
 gonians, which has gradually diminished 
 through their struggles and wars among them- 
 selves, about the right of hunting, and water, 
 and meadows, and tlirough tlie war of exter- 
 mination on the part of humane and Cliristian 
 Europeans, hardly amounts to 10,000 fighting 
 men, who, however, have as yet maintained tlieir 
 independence against tlie Europeans 
 
 The fabulous pliysica) size of these Patagoni- 
 ans has decreased, as if in proportion to tlieir 
 former numbers, according to the reports of tra- 
 velling Europeans who have observed them 
 with reasonable eyes, to a certainly considerable 
 grenadier height, to wliich is joined a well pro- 
 portioned muscular frame, and a certain natural 
 
 dignity. The complexion of these tribes is 
 dark olive brown, with a slight reddish tint, their 
 faces rather round than oval, with a Hat profile, 
 an arched forehead, and small, horizontally cut, 
 dark sparkling eyes without the least expres- 
 sion of falsehood ; the short flat nose partly 
 discloses the nostrils, and the thick lips cover 
 the national decoration of beautiful pearly teeth. 
 
 More striking than many other properties 
 which they share with the neighboring tribes, is 
 the luxuriant richness of their raven black, soft 
 hair, that retains its color and thickness to ad- 
 vanced age, and generally quite covers the back, 
 and, given to the winds, floats about in the ele- 
 ment of freedom. 
 
 The designation of Patagon (big foot,) seems 
 as little accordant with reality, as the long since 
 refuted rumor of their superhuman size. On 
 the contrary, the Patagonians are distinguished 
 for their small hands and feet, as well as mani- 
 festing, in their whole being, something that 
 pleases and inspires confidence, instead of either 
 physical or moral coarseness, thereby distinguish- 
 ing tliemselves from the ox — the proper "cosmo- 
 polite'' — who grazes, and ruminates, and bellows 
 in all countries, and everywhere remains Ox. 
 
 The customs, like the character of these tribes, 
 evidently resemble those of the patriarchal world 
 of bygone centuries, and show us man in his 
 natural condition, with the innate principle of 
 humanity, which authenticates itself in some 
 form or other of human society. 
 
 Apart from the fatal hostilities which neces- 
 sity engenders, these tribes hold together, among 
 themselves, with undeniable nationality. All 
 stand up for one, or one for all, at every assault 
 on their independence, which they resist with 
 decided energy ; on the contrary, however, they 
 entertain unconcealed distrust against all Euro- 
 peans, excepting Spaniards and Italians, and 
 |ierhaps on very just grounds. Although, under 
 the former monarchial government of the neigh- 
 boring Spanish colonies, they were not unfre- 
 quently chased with hounds like wild beasts, 
 and forced back to their pampas, their natural 
 human understanding led them by degress to the 
 knowledge whereby they distinguish despotic 
 ill usage on the part of bloodthirsty conquerors, 
 from peaceful intercourse with free men, who 
 renounce such a system of government. They
 
 193 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 consider their guest^i from the south of Europe 
 as men like themselves, who at times innocently 
 and peaceably erect their toldos in the New 
 World, as they do, and barter with them their 
 oxen, against all sorts of useful, and often " really 
 curious" implements. 
 
 A so called horde of the Inaken, consisting of 
 about a hundred fighting men, with numerous 
 families, some thousands of oxen, and some hun- 
 dreds of horses, guanacoes,* sheep, and goats, had 
 more and more slowly descended i^rom the 
 southern plains, not far from the Andes, to the 
 right bank of the Rio N^ro, to cari-y on their 
 barter there. 
 
 The toldos (tents of buffalo hides) formed, 
 in picturesque disorder, a considerable village 
 en the declivity of a hill, vrhich hardly deserved 
 the name, since it was one of those elevations, of 
 miles in width, which, interrupted by depres- 
 sions of equal extent, form an undulating tract 
 of country, unvarying for hundreds of miles, 
 partly overgrown with luxuriant grass, " a wav- 
 ing grass-sea," partly interrupted by extensive- 
 patches of sand, and ornamented here and there 
 with scanty woods and low thickets. From the 
 hills, the eye perceived a uniform desert land- 
 scape, whose undulating, green foreground, in- 
 terrupted in the above named manner by patches, 
 of sand, lost itself by degrees fn the less green 
 middle gi'ound, and at length in the light blue of 
 the distant horizon. 
 
 Rhabukih, called by his European and pam- 
 pas friends El Rojo, (the red,) the venerable ca- 
 cique of his free tribe, sat in an oriental posture 
 upon a thick buffalo hide in front of his toldo, 
 with his left elbow supported by a sort of saddle, 
 that also served him for a pillow at night. 
 
 His countenance was purely national, such as 
 we have already generally described. A red 
 and white handkerchief, bound about his head, 
 covered the upper pai-t of the high forehead, 
 and formed behind each ear a long end of ar- 
 tistically arranged points, that fluttered behind 
 over his long dark hair. Three stripes of dark 
 red paint decorated each cheek, from the cor- 
 ners of the mouth to the ear and the temple. 
 Excepting the upper lip, the countenance was 
 beardless, as his beloved, accoi-ding to the cus- 
 tom of the country, had taken the pains to pluck 
 out the beard in his eai-ly youth. He was a re- 
 spectable figure, of advanceil age, of conspicuous 
 Patagonian size, and of coui'se half a head taller 
 than the Emperor Nicholas of Russia, who, like 
 king Saul of old, " is liigher than all the peo- 
 ple." His dress was as original as the entire 
 scene around him. He wore, as his choicest gar- 
 ment, the national poncho, whose form the Bra- 
 zilians have bonx)wed from tliese tribes, as we 
 have already described it at Villa Tasso, at the 
 time of Serafini's arrest. But this poncho of the 
 Cacique El Rojo \^'a3 not of European stuff, but 
 a home made article, the costly product of the 
 domestic industry of his daughters. 
 
 Whoever conceives of this patriarchal world 
 of South .\merica, as an anti-social desert, 
 remote from all civilization, err.s-, like so many 
 Europeans, who often prize far too highly the 
 hot house civilization of our whitewashed age, 
 in comparison with " half savage nations." 
 
 * Guanaco, a sort of shfep-camel^ or lama, whose wool 
 iz of tixcelicat quality 
 
 The condition of women in Patagonfa has, 
 certainty, so far, a similarity with the slavery of 
 many nations on the European continent, inso- 
 mrrch as woman is considered the first and most 
 indispensable of " domestic animals," who per- 
 forms all the labor, for the convenience and com- 
 fort of man, fatigues herself through the day, and 
 hanlly finds rest at night. 
 
 .^s woman evidently niles in many countries, 
 and (in opposition to this degrading slavery) is 
 considered as a doll, to be fed and dressed, and 
 then undressed and put to bed again — so we 
 consider woman in Patagonia, not a3 the ruling, 
 but the administrative, power. 
 
 Woman, in Patagonia, ^hear?^ the grjanacoe^ 
 and spins the wool, seeks the coloring matter 
 and dyes the yarn, weaves or knits the cloth, 
 embroiders the trimming of the impoi-ted linen 
 or white calico, takes care of th&cooking, cleans 
 the toldos, &c., &c., and fulfils, besides, all the 
 female household and conjugal duties, as soon as 
 she has arrived at the appointed age, which 
 event is distinguished by great festivity. The 
 marriageable girl is proclaimed capable to love, 
 by the cacique and a sort of priestess, and is tat- 
 tooed on (hfferent ]}ait« of her well formed bodv, 
 like leaving the " finishing school," and being 
 " brought out into the worid " as marriageable. 
 
 The poncho of the cacique was a long, four- 
 cornered piece, some si.x feet wide, and eight or 
 nine feet long, artfully woven from sheep and 
 gtianaco wool, striped lengthwise with various 
 colors, and decorated wltl> ornaments. The pre- 
 vailing tints of the several stripes were brown, 
 red, dark green, light gi-een, yellow, and white. 
 The decorations in the stripes themselves, of 
 various gradations, displayed (to the surprise of 
 Europeans, accustomed to the artistic forms 
 of antiquity) evident antique arabesques in their 
 complicated squares, which, borrowed from the 
 Grecian decorations, have passed over to our 
 modem borders The garment which (to bor>- 
 row the tone of virtuous transatlantic civiliza/- 
 tion) wound its folds " nearest the body " of the 
 cacique, was a piece of British, or French, or Hel- 
 vetian calico, three yards long,doublcd together, 
 like Scnhora Bebida's coflee bag, and the poncho, 
 provided with a hole for the neck. The piece 
 of clothing that British discretion finds " inex- 
 pressible," (as if it would thereby directly turn 
 the attention to the precise portion of the person 
 which it covers,) was, on our cacique, indeed 
 inexpressible, and could the less be called (with- 
 out hypocrisy) pantaloons, since the notion of 
 pantaloons signifies something quite different. 
 It was a valuable shawl of guanaco wool, whnse 
 quality ranged between tile finest merino and 
 cashmere — likewise manufactured at home, by 
 the" princesses of the house." The undyed wool 
 presented a natural color, in so called broken 
 tint, between light gray and a light brownish 
 yellow — the stutl' itself was delicate and soft as 
 cashmere. How this shawl was wound round the 
 hii>s and partly covered the legs, like (lanta- 
 loons was "■ inexpressible ;" we could, at the ut- 
 most, form a ciode! with our own hands out of a 
 large lady's shawl, but the description would be 
 too long.' From below these " inexpressibles," 
 
 * These guanaco shawls, lilie the ponchos of the 
 Patagonians, were occasionally sent to tlurope as rari- 
 ties. Aa orJiuary poncho, even tliouEjh it hud been 
 woja, oust always^ aowa^ tluropeulLS, over forty Spaaiaij
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 199 
 
 El pair of white pantaloons descended, trimmed 
 with a border of embroidery — a sort of lace, not 
 sowed on, but wrought, a jour, by means of threads 
 sUilfully drawn out of the calico. A pair of half 
 boots, or rather ** leather stockings," cut from 
 the two liind shanks of a horse, in such a man- 
 ner that the joint covered the heel, (of course, 
 witliout se«in^,) completed the picturesque cos- 
 tume <if the Cacique El Rojo. A small leather 
 bag, with fire implements, consisting of Hint, 
 steel, and fungus, (whicli latter was carefully 
 deposited in the hornlike hinder part of a small 
 armadillo, two or three inches long, ornamented 
 with silver,) bow and arrows, some knives, like- 
 wise with silver on the handles, and a sling, the 
 favorite national weapon, hung, and were stuck 
 about and near him. This is a tolerably exact 
 portrait, en tableau de ge7ire, of our Cacique 
 Rhabukih el Rojo. 
 
 It was about sundown, and the numerous 
 family of the stout, venerable old man, in various 
 toldos near him, were employed in their domes- 
 tic occupations, while he lay there upon the 
 buiTalo hide, smoking a cigarette, and from time to 
 time looking at a very common silver watch, for 
 which he had bartered twenty oxen with a Euro- 
 pean. Some tame ash grey ostriches, serving his 
 grandsons as riding horses, wandered about near 
 him, ruminating philosophically. Here and there, 
 bel'ore the entrance of a toldo, boiled the " ever 
 full Heshpot," the single but nourishing dish of 
 the Patagonians, which is every hour at the ser- 
 vice of every guest. To reck-on according to 
 the national fleshpot, it would, of course, always 
 bo " mid-day" in Patagonia, in so far as the hand 
 of the noonday hour amongst the working classes 
 of almost all nations points to the fleshpot, 
 which is occasionally empty. 
 
 Some " princes and princesses " of the reign- 
 ing house of Rhabukih approached their papa, 
 or grandpapa, and at the same time the fleshpot 
 before his tent, seated themselves, after the orien- 
 tal fa^iiion, for an intimate interview with the old 
 man and the fleshpot, while they took knife and 
 spoon in hand, and though witliout a plate, to be 
 sure, began to eat their soup tolerably decently. 
 
 A sort of governess, or waiting woman, pre- 
 pared the tea, which is called Clia de Matte,* 
 from a .South American plant that grows princi- 
 pally in the province of Paraguay, always, how- 
 ever, an article of luxury in Patagonia. 
 
 The tea leaves were shaken into a bullet 
 formed cup, ((juja,) and boiling water poured 
 on them. This cup is for the most part a cocoa- 
 nut shell, the stem of which serves like the lian- 
 dle of a pan. These gujas are often ornamented 
 v/ith all sorts of figures and hieroglyphics. A 
 silver tube, ten inches long, with a perforated 
 hollow globe, is immersed in it, and the drink, as 
 hot as the gums can bear it, is sucked through it, 
 while the leaves remain in the cup. 
 
 The old cacique sucked his guja, and comfort- 
 ably enjoyed this " modern drink," recommend- 
 ed it to his family as very strengthening to the 
 breast, and then smoked his cigarette again. 
 
 Tile females were dressed in the above described 
 
 piastres. There are guanaco shawls worth moretlian o 
 hundred piastres. They have endeavored to imitate this 
 material in Europe, but could not succeed as they have 
 no guanaco wool, and the fabric is quite peculiar. 
 ♦ Or : Matte,— Cha is the Chinese word for tea. 
 
 national garb, only with the difference, that the 
 ladies merely wore white richly adorned calico 
 " inexpressibles " and carried in their tinder 
 bags, the implements for knitting and embroi- 
 dery. The young members of the family were 
 hardly to be distinguished from each other by 
 their sex, as the maidens were not yet tattooed, 
 and a certain national family lilceness prevailed 
 in all their faces. Men, women, and children 
 of the nation moved about with democratic un- ^ 
 concern, around the tent of the caciijue, all * 
 stamped with the above national resemlilance as 
 members and descendants of a single family. 
 
 Peaceful guanacoes were straying around at 
 pasture, while in the far distance the numerous 
 masses of horned " four-footed cosmojiolites," 
 likewise etifamiHe, bellowed at the setting sun 
 in manifold gradations of tone, to the interruption 
 of their ruminating lives. Domesticated horses, 
 saddled for hourly service, appeared through the 
 fetters of habit to desire the halter, and wander- 
 ed with slow steps around the tents, in expecta- 
 tion of the riders, who mounted them every few 
 minutes, and then left them again to themselves. 
 Hunting dogs, of distinguislied breeds, stood in 
 groups near the young family of the cacique, in 
 close companionship, while the howl of savage 
 bloodhounds (introduced by the Spaniards, and 
 degenerated to beasts of prey) joined in, from a 
 distance, with the lowing of oxen and the neigh- 
 ing of the horses. The dense smoke of (i-esh 
 kindled turf (which, for want of wood, serves as 
 the national fuel) rose, here and there, around a 
 colossal fleshpot, and gave a dark shading to the 
 monotonous but highly pleasing picture, in con- 
 trast with the cloudless azure blue lieavens, 
 through which countless flocks of birds were 
 flying. 
 
 In opposition to the " nobility" of the tribe of 
 Inaken, (who, as to that, had no hereditary privi- 
 leges,) appeared the " people," in the natural 
 condition of nakedness, clothed with a single 
 garment, the poncho, wliich the men wore in 
 the manner of the cacique, with the hole for the 
 neck. 
 
 The poncho of the women, suitably to its ob- 
 ject, was considerably longer than the men's, and 
 was wound round the hips and shoulders like a 
 sort of carbonaro mantle, or antique drapery, 
 (similar to the before described garment of the 
 negresses,) whereby the form of the body 
 was more or less displayed in its natural contour, 
 and a portion of the shoulder remained at times 
 uncovered. 
 
 " Yana Kirym has prophesied," said the ca- 
 cique to himself, " that he would come again 
 before the sun had disappeared for the third time 
 behind the distant plains, and the longest of these 
 little pieces of metal upon this circle of figures 
 has only to creep round it twice more, and then 
 the sun shall go down, having shone upon our 
 Oregham hither at home." 
 
 "There comes Yana Kirym, herself!" ex- 
 claimed a princess of the house, " and Oregham 
 will come too, if she has foretold it." 
 
 Yana Kirym was the sibyl of the tribe of Inaken, 
 a sort of personified "principle of the mysteri- 
 ous," which, as religion, (or as faith in a higher 
 divine power,) appears more or less in the so 
 called state of nature, in all nations. 
 
 The Patagonians acknowledge a single su-
 
 200 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 preme being, whom they call Ach-eKenat Kanet, 
 to whom they ascribe all good and all (appa- 
 rently) evil effects; which latter, accordirif; to 
 their convictions, only "seem" evil, and lead tn 
 some unknown good object. 
 
 Their religion is simple in the highest degree 
 They acknowledge no evil principle, hut believe 
 in continuance alter death, and in eternal hlcss 
 edness. In accordance with this belief, deatlt 
 appears to them like a passage into a better Hie, 
 • and they lay in the grave of 'he departed his 
 weapons and implements, which he may perhaps 
 require on his passage to another world. The 
 sacrifice of death of all the oxen, horses, guan- 
 acos, and sheep, which the deceased possessed 
 in life, is iieculiarly singular; they are all killed 
 upon his grave, for he wants nothing more on 
 earth, and Ach-eKenat Kanet takes care of his 
 family, who do not yet know the " worth of 
 man" by property. 
 
 Yana Kirym maintained the rank, or, as it 
 were, the ofTice of high priestess. The gifts of 
 clairvoyance, of prophecy, and of the interpreta- 
 tion of dreams, were alike bestowed upon her. 
 She prophesied from the blood of a young cow 
 in the decline of the moon, ordered the funerals, 
 took care of the sick, prepared medicinal herbs, 
 and led the migrations of the tribe by the stai-s, 
 as the cacique carried no compass. 
 
 The seeress approached. She was a thin figure, 
 of Patagonian height, whose profile, like all the 
 others, formed nearly a perpendicular line ; she 
 had a high, deeply furrowed forehead, and a 
 sharp, penetrating glance in her brown eyes. A 
 black handkerchief, fastened in the manner 
 before mentioned, covered the upper part of her 
 head, the long hair of which, parted in two 
 masses, hung down Ujion her breast, fastened in 
 a knot. She was a relative of the cacique, and 
 of course wore a clean calico garment next to 
 her olive brown skin, a pair of riclily embroi- 
 dered pantaloons and half boots, of the form above 
 described, (from which the great toe peeped 
 out,) stuck into a stirrup strap without metal — 
 for Yana Kirym was on horseback, like every 
 male and female Patagonian who wished to move 
 over a space of five steps or farther. She carried 
 a single long arrow, without a bow, and the na- 
 tional bag, with fire implements and cigarettes, 
 one of which she was just then smoking. 
 
 " If the bloodtliirsty chief on the river La 
 Plata has slain my Oregham, we will break up 
 and cross the pampas to his toldo, and he shall 
 find out whose son he has killed !" cried the old 
 man to the sibyl. 
 
 " They come !" said she, seriously, and in a 
 hollow, guttural tone. " They come ! thy s.m, 
 my Oregham, and the ' friend of man ' from the 
 seashore ; and yet another comes with them, 
 whom they have saved from death." 
 
 The cacique and his children listened silently 
 to the words of the Inaken sybil, and looked at 
 each other. Every countenance spoke silent 
 reverence, and the features of the old man 
 brightened with the anticipation of meeting 
 again his eldest son, who had travelled to Bue- 
 nos Ayres, with Signore Testa, to become ac- 
 quainted VN-ith the stone toldos of the gaucho 
 cacique, and the many other wonders of the 
 world, on the river La Plata. 
 
 " Dost thou see them come .'" inquired the 
 old man, as he raised his arm from the saddle, 
 
 and sat erect, as if he intended to leave his buf- 
 falo hide. 
 
 " I have already seen them long ; not by day- 
 light, but at night, when my kingdom opens 
 itself," replied Yana Kirym, slowly and ear- 
 nestly. " I saw them fourteen days ago, when 
 tliey rested themselves, after riding thirty 
 leagues. They changed horses with our people. 
 All slept, and o»r friend from the seasliore, 
 took an ii.sti-jijjnt and cut ofl' the hair entirely 
 from tlie heal of the friend he had saved ; for a 
 round spot of the crown was made bai'e before, 
 as a mark in case he wislied to escape, and the 
 .Matoperros* of the cacique from La Plata would 
 have known him by that. The fugitive wore 
 Oregham's second dress, which he took with 
 him, to appear in the stone toldos of the gaucho 
 chief The stranger anointed his head with 
 ostrich fat, and bound the cloth on it, after our 
 manner, that the hair might grow again, until 
 he comes amongst the white men who fight 
 against the matoperros of the prince that lives 
 far away to the north. 
 
 When the stranger from the seashore had 
 shorn the head of his friend, they both lay down 
 to sleep for some hours, and the youngest daugh- 
 ter of the cacicjue drew near the toldo of the 
 man with the shorn head, and heard him pray 
 aloud, and she knelt down before the toldo, and 
 prayed to Ach-eKenat Kanet that he would 
 protect him from the matoperros of the blood- 
 thirsty cacique of the gauchos, who hunts our 
 people with hounds, and murders the white 
 people that will not acknowledge him as their 
 Ach-eKenat Kanet here below. The stranger 
 slept peaceably, and before the sun arose again, 
 they all laid their saddles upon fresh horses, 
 and came galloping in a straight line to the 
 southwest, towards us, with arrow speed, without 
 resting, nearly forty leagues every day, and 
 changed their horses when they arrived at tol- 
 dos, and left the tired ones behind, and many 
 horses sank exhausted under them, before they 
 could unbuckle the saddle. 
 
 " So saw I them in my dream-world, and 
 nothing evil has happened to them since then, 
 or I should have known it. They rode and 
 galloped on in their flight, and changed horses, 
 and then rode and galloped on again, coming 
 nearer and nearer to us here, swift as arrows, 
 without rest and repose ; and the hair of the 
 man who seeks our protection grows again as 
 fast as they ride, and the trace of the mai'k on 
 his crown, has already vanished; and they will 
 soon be here." 
 
 " Uost thou know the man that seeks shelter 
 with us .' dost thou know the man among his 
 |)eople ?" 
 
 " 1 know who he was, and what he is. I saw 
 his heart in a dream, and read the inscription 
 of his soul. He is a spirit acjuainted with 
 Ach-eKenat Kanet as I am ; but he sees not 
 things to come like me, only in his manner 
 judging the future by the past. Ach-eKenat 
 Kanet gave to our Oregham the thuught to travel 
 to the far, far distance, because this man, with 
 the ' mark of slavery,' required our aid, and 
 without him he would have been lost there, for 
 
 * Literall.v " dogkillers ''—anickname of the military, 
 who Ibrinerly took tbe fielil against the wild hounds 
 above mentioned
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 201 
 
 the blood-thirsty cacique of the gauchos had 
 sworn his deatli." 
 
 " Didst thou know all this at that time," said 
 a dau^rhter of the cacique, " when Oregham in- 
 sisti-d that he would travel far, far away with the 
 white friend ; didst thou know then with what 
 object it was done ?" 
 
 " No !" answered Yana Kirym with all can- 
 dor, " I knew it not: but I suspected that his 
 journey must have some particular object un- 
 known to himself, because he could give no 
 other reason, wlierefore he wished to accompan)' 
 the white friend, than to see the stone toldos on 
 the Plata river, and the great boats wherein a 
 hundred men or more can journey over the great 
 waters that never end." 
 
 Yana Kirym answered some more questions 
 of the cacique and his children, who listened 
 with reverential attention to her words, and 
 then suddenly gave her horse a thrust with the 
 shaft of the arrow, and galloped in flying haste 
 towards the shores of the Rio Negro. 
 
 — v^^^y#^^^ 
 
 i#-^^*^^*«- 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ASYLUM IN PATAGONIA. 
 
 Nearly an hour had elapsed since Yana Ki- 
 rym had silently departed, and El Rojo still lay, 
 with his watch in hand, on the bullalo hide be- 
 fore his toldo. A little maiden near him was 
 trying to embroider a new pattern of her own 
 design, a jour, upon a piece of calico, as she 
 drew out the threads here and there with admi- 
 rable dexterity, and brought out leaves and 
 flowers, without in the least detracting from tlie 
 tenacity and firmness of the material. A little 
 grandson of the old chief, some seven years old, 
 had mounted an ostrich, to take his after supper 
 ride for his better digestion, and turned in the 
 direction in which Yana Kirym had disappeared. 
 
 "Wliy dost thou work so late to-day.'" inquired 
 the cacique of the diUigent little maiden near 
 him. " Thou hast embroidered enough for to- 
 day ; long sitting is not good ; thou wilt become 
 corpulent, and that is not pretty." 
 
 " No, my father ! that is not jjretty — to be- 
 come corpulent ; but tall and slender, and broad 
 across the breast, and well fleshed here and 
 there ; that is pretty ! And I do not wish to be 
 less handsome tlian Vala Limi. She is pretty, my 
 father, is she not .' Hut 1 am working this border 
 for tlie guest who is coming here tills evening. 
 When Yana Kirym told me, the day before yes- 
 terday, that Oregham would come to-day, I de- 
 termined to work these pantaloons for him, but 
 now the stranger-guest shall have them, and 
 thou, my father, wilt give him abeautiful poncho, 
 of tlie best we have. But it was very bad for 
 friend Testa to cut ofl" his hair! Think, my 
 f^ither, of an Inake without long hair ! with a 
 b;ild head ! that must look like a meadow with- 
 out grass ! The poor, bareheaded guest ! I 
 would give him the half of my hair, if it could 
 be, tliat tlie poor man miglit not look so ugly." 
 
 " Thou mayest marry him, if he stays here," 
 said the old chief. " His hair will soon grow 
 again." 
 
 28 
 
 " I must see him first '." rejilied his grand- 
 daughter. " If he is young and good — if I suit 
 him — if he will be good to me, so right good, 
 my father, so good, and so pleased, witli me that 
 lie can hardly go to hunt without me — as good as 
 our Oregham is to Vala Limi — then 1 would be 
 good to him, and " 
 
 "And journey with him far away ?" inter- 
 rupted the patriarch. 
 
 " No ! my father. Journey with him .' leave 
 you all ? how can y<tu tliink so ? tliat would not 
 please me. I would nowhere be so happy as 
 with you, and no one would love me so well !" 
 
 Thus the little one prattled on, and the old 
 man smilingly listened to her, smoking his 
 cigarette. 
 
 The little boy on his ostrich had galloped past 
 the more distant toldos, accompanied by Ore- 
 gham's favorite dog, which had, for the first 
 time since her lover's departure, left the tent of 
 Vala Limi. He was a beautiful, glossy black 
 hunting dog, with erect ears, (broad and hollow,) 
 shaped like a spoon, (and therefore sooner per- 
 ceiving the slightest, most distant sound,) with 
 white feet, and other white s|)ots. Dogs of this 
 breed serve their masters without arms in the 
 chase, as they catch, with indescribable dexte- 
 rity, the wild fowl, which nestle, in countless 
 numbers, in the undulating "grass waves" of 
 Patagonia. A single one of these dogs, led to 
 the chase by a boy, is able to supply the fleshpot 
 of a whole family with the most exquisite birds, 
 and is, of course, a most valuable gift of nature. 
 
 The boy trotted about on his ostrich in child- 
 like unconcern, looked from time to time at 
 " Rosas," (so was Oregham's favorite named,) and 
 suddenly saw him no more. Let him call as 
 loudly and as often as he might, with his tender 
 voice, Rosas was off. The poor boy steered his 
 ostrich in circles and crosswise, hither and 
 thither — Rosas was nowhere to he found. The 
 thought that Oregham was coming home, and 
 would not find his Rosas, came upon the poor 
 child with deadly anxiety; he wept bitterly, 
 and embracing the neck of his ostrich, allowed 
 it to carry him wherever it would. Rosas ap- 
 peared to be lost in tlie boundless desert waste of 
 the waving " sea of grass," perhaps suddenly 
 strangled by a crafty, lurking bloodhound, or at 
 least exposed to the danger of being strangled and 
 devoured. The disconsolate boy rode about, with 
 tearful eyes, and dared not go home without 
 Rosas. The sun had already sunk behind the 
 horizon and similar dangers to those which beset 
 the favorite, threatened him. Suddenly, swifler 
 tlian the flight of thought, Rosas reappeared, 
 and sprang upon the ostrich, as it w^ere giving a 
 sign that it must follow him, and then flew, with 
 lightning speed, in leaps some fathoms long, 
 over the grass-sea in the direction of the village. 
 The boy tried his two legged courser, and followed 
 him. As soon as Rosas had reached the first toldo, 
 llie population was also set in motion ; " Rosas ! 
 Rosas !" cried old and young ; " Oregham is com- 
 ing !" Rosas hastened to Vala Limi ; and the 
 names " Rosas !" "Oregham !" and " Val.i Limi I" 
 resounded with hundred-fold intonations in the 
 evening stillness of the Inaken village on the 
 shores of the Rio Negro. 
 
 Rosas hurried past the toldo of the cacique, to 
 Vala Limi's tent, where she still sat at lier por- 
 table loom, working ujion a splendid poncho, to
 
 202 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 be a weddins dress for her beloved. Although | 
 possessed of considerable Patagonian stvcngth, 
 and " here and there cushioned over" with noble 
 niujcul ir roundness, (according to the naive ex- 
 pression of the old cacique's gi-anddau-^hter,) 
 Vala Limi was, nevertheless, almost thrown 
 prostrate on her buffalo hide, wben Rosas brought 
 her the inteUi,ence that Oregham was in the 
 neighborhood. 
 
 The "friend" of her beloved thereupon took the 
 " canine liberty" of covering her handsome face 
 with Ivisses, or at least of licking it wherever his 
 light red tongue would reach, whining and howl- 
 ing round her, and then springing on her again. 
 After a moment lie left the tent and disappeared, 
 flying back by the way he had come. 
 
 Vala Limi sought, with all haste, to arrange her 
 splendid locks in the best manner possible, 
 plaited them in two masses, slung them under her 
 arms, and fastened them in a knot on her heart. 
 Rosas had literally torn the poncho from her 
 body. With teclmical adroitness she held one 
 end' on the left hip, passed the right end through 
 from beneath, and threw the rest over the right 
 shoulder, .\fter such a provisionary toilet, by 
 which the proud form of her Juno-like figure 
 stood out for the most part in natural full- 
 ness, she stepped forth from her tent, that was 
 set in an open place where the toldos of the 
 cacique formed a semicircle. 
 
 " The nubility and the people" had already 
 assembled in a numerous crowd, all on horse- 
 back — as a matter of course. The little boy, 
 with his eyes still wet, considered himself a 
 chief personage in the assembly, and laughed 
 through his big tears, beside himself vrith joy 
 that Rosas was not lost, and besides, certainly 
 very much pleased with Oregham's return ; but 
 " Rosas " was naturally the principal thing with 
 him. 
 
 Many turned about back and forth in evident 
 impatience, and would gladly have left the 
 square, to ride towards the travellers ; but the 
 cacique remained before his tent, and respect 
 required them to remain in his neighborhood, 
 until the son of the house arrived. 
 
 Oregham at length appeared, sitting proudly 
 on his horse, and near him Signore Testa, and 
 Celeste-Lorenzo. Before tliem rode Yana Kirym, 
 and behind them five Patagonians, as travelling 
 companions, and a crowd of people of all ages, 
 and of both sexes, who closed around them as 
 they sprang through the toldo village. 
 
 A shout of joy and rejoicing, in well articula- 
 ted Inaken tones, greeted the " prince of the 
 house," who had returned from his first great 
 journey to the far, far distance, and soon Ore- 
 gham, Vala Limi, and old Rhabukih formed, as 
 It were, a single mass of embraces. 
 
 Celeste dismounted from his horse, and stood, 
 with Testa, opposite to the sibyl of the Inaken 
 tribe. " Welcome ! man of death !" cried Yana 
 Kirym, with a subdued voice, in the Spanish lan- 
 guage, observing Celeste with a keen glance. 
 She then pressed his hand, and laid her left upon 
 his right shoulder ; " Welcome ! man of death ! 
 ■ escaped from death to seek thy grave I I know 
 thee and thy path ! the cacique will relate to 
 thee that I saw thee, and where and when 1 saw 
 thee. Ach-eKenat Kanet hath protected thee 
 
 until now ; and he will protect thee further 
 
 to thy grave I 
 
 " Welcome to our protection — rest and tarry 
 here ; I would say, remain with us, and take 
 thee a wife, and live with us in rest and peace, 
 and repose in the lap of a family ; but that is 
 not thy calling ; that is pleasant and not hard ; 
 that is charming and alluring, for our maidens 
 are beautiful, and our men are happy ; but that 
 is not thy path. Three days shalt thou abide 
 here, in all quiet and recover thyself alter thy 
 long, long journey ; and when I have, during 
 three nights, traversed my realm to obtain infor- 
 mation concerning thy future lot, then will I tell 
 thee when thou shalt depart and whither thou 
 shalt ride. Let thv pack be unbuckled from the 
 led horse there, and take thence the sacred cup 
 that thou carriest with thee, and I will prepare 
 cha de matte for thee, that thou mayest drink 
 from thy cup this evening ; for it is a sacred hour, 
 the hour of thine arriv.al among the tents of 
 Rhabukih, the cacique of the Inaken :" 
 
 She departed hastily, and went to her fire- 
 place. 
 
 Celeste looked with evident amazement at his 
 friend Testa, when Yana Kirym mentioned the 
 cup, of the existence of which it was impossible 
 she should have been informed by any ordinary 
 method. Testa, who had held intercourse for 
 years with this race of people, appeared as little 
 surprised by the whole deportment and tone of 
 the seeress,"as by the hint in respect to the cup. 
 
 We left Celeste on that eventful night in the 
 prison edifice at Buenos Ayres, and indirectly 
 learned, through Seiior Domingo and Padre 
 Fernando, that he was still in the chapel, when 
 the latter so urgentlv inquired about him. 
 
 The last hours of Alphonso wrought with a 
 decided revulsion upon the mind of the man 
 w^ho had " renounced the world to live to the 
 Lord," which might, very naturally, be a sud- 
 denly approaching crisis in his inward life. 
 
 Celeste had seen a martyr to the idea of freedom 
 take leave of the world with his eyes unbound, 
 as his associates have been executed in our 
 epoch, in almost all countries wliere humanity 
 strives and struggles to release itself from the 
 chains and bonds of absolutism — of the church, 
 as well as the throne. 
 
 Lorenzo had once renounced the world at the 
 grave of his betrothed, the sister of Dolores,, 
 after his heart had been incurably wounded by 
 the breaking, at her death, of the earthly bond 
 of love which enchained liim. 
 
 It may certainly appear ridiculous, or at 
 least overstrained," in our civilized age, when 
 all the more profound sentiments are despised, 
 that a youth, or a man, can be so deeply pene- 
 trated by a sentiment of pure love, that, over- 
 powered by the prostration of grief, he forms a 
 resolution,' at the grave of liis betrothed, to bury 
 himself alive in the cells of a mon;istery. 
 
 We have advanced so far in " civilization," that 
 faith and love, in whatever form we find them 
 un earth, are generally taken for weakness, for 
 nervous disease, enthusi;isin, and the like, and 
 nothing is so peculiarly ridiculous as sentiment. 
 Celibacy, as the renunciation of all domestic 
 relations, and especially of the conditions of 
 nature, could only have become, through a sin- 
 gular misconception, an ordinance of the church, 
 alter the spirit had disappeared which inspired 
 the apostles for their mission, and led to such
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 203 
 
 renunciation from conviction. Men, whose lives 
 are pervaded by an idea that is more exalted 
 than their time, and who expose themselves to 
 persecution unto death by the advocacy of this 
 idea, can have no claims to domestic relations — 
 to domestic happiness. 
 
 When Paul declares, " He that marries does 
 well, but he that marries not, does better,"' he 
 speaks in his office as apostle, loosed from the 
 fetters of human society, which despised the 
 idea for which he had sacrificed his claims on 
 life. The apostle of Christendom recognised 
 the unconditional necessity to keep himself at a 
 distance from the fettering bonds of domestic 
 relations, that he might work more powerfully, 
 and not burden himself with the reproach of 
 uniting a noble being to his fate, or exposing a 
 woman to the persecutions that beset him. Not- 
 withstanding this, however, there are, in the 
 early statutes of Christendom, no traces of a ce- 
 libacy such as the church, in later times, has 
 held up. 
 
 It would carry us back too far, to insert here 
 our observations on the foundation of monastic 
 life, which originated in the inward desire of 
 individual men, for external repose and seclu- 
 sion from the world, that they might resign 
 themseves, undisturbed, to spiritual contempla- 
 tion, and intellectual research. Such an indi- 
 vidual direction, however, with the renunciation 
 of love in its earthly form, pre-supposes an un- 
 shakeable strength of mind, that borders on the 
 superliuman, as it despises the requirements of 
 nature and the fundamental stipulations of hu- 
 man society. Only the inspiration of an exalted 
 idea, the dissolving of human individuality in 
 this idea itself, whether it takes the form of 
 faith, of love, or of freedom, is able to arouse 
 such a moral force in man, which, when it is 
 awakened, is declared by the profane world to 
 be enthusiasm and over-excitement, whether in 
 or out of the cloister. There is a love in earthly 
 form, that is able to enchain the heart of a noble 
 man to that degree, that the unlimited renun- 
 ciation of terrestrial happiness, on separation 
 from the beloved object, or at her grave, be- 
 comes, to the honour of the human heart, very 
 natural. 
 
 There is a love in earthly form, so pure and 
 so exalted, that the heart which experiences it 
 parts, by a separation from the beloved being, 
 equally from every hope of terrestrial felicity. 
 
 Lorenzo renounced the world, and became a 
 monk, because he had received the Cliristian re- 
 ligion, as " religion," according to the fundamen- 
 tal principle from which it sjjrung. He occu- 
 pied himself in the solitude of the cloister with 
 the study of church history, and sought for tlie 
 spirit of religion in the forms of the church, 
 and looked for Christians in the monks around 
 him. He found in neither the one, nor the 
 other, wliat he had sought. He saw the colossal 
 edifice of tile third century extended in earthly 
 splendor and magnificence — a temple of luxury, 
 in which stupidity and sensuality had erected 
 their altars. He saw the idea and the spirit of 
 the Christian religion here and there glimmer 
 ing forth in former centuries, through this night 
 of obduracy and darkness, when it was yet able 
 to manifest itself as idea and spirit, before abso 
 lutism had thorouglily taken possession of the 
 church, and fused itself with her — making of 
 
 every priest an executioner, to murder the soul 
 of man before it wakes in faith and love. 
 
 The everyday event of our time, that a ser- 
 vant of the Lord in any state should be called 
 upon to attend, in his official capacity, a sinner 
 to the scaffold, who, doubting the legitimacy of 
 monarchy, " for justice's sake" had been con- 
 demned to death as a traitor, had ended the long 
 struggle through which Celeste had striven for 
 years in his cell. 
 
 With the salvo of musketry, that termina- 
 ted the life of his friend, terminated also his 
 union with the forms of a church that tolerated, 
 approved, and in a manner accomplished, such 
 a murder. He left the corpse of his friend, 
 when it had been thrust into tlie pit, and re- 
 turned to the chapel, to collect himself for the 
 fulfilment of the purpose that he had matured 
 within him. 
 
 After he had approached the Lord in prayer, 
 to whose glory one martyr after another has shed 
 his blood, he departed with hasty steps, and 
 went, by a private way, through lanes and gar- 
 dens to IVIr. Walker's, whom he found still in 
 bed. 
 
 With all the calmness and presence of mind 
 that belonged to his character, and the calling 
 he sustained, he revealed his " secret " to the old 
 Briton, who was, very naturally, prepared im- 
 mediately to consider it as his own, and assist 
 him in his flight. 
 
 An embarkation on board the Nordstjernan 
 was, however, impossible, or at least too critical 
 and dangerous, and iVIr. Walker had instantly 
 another plan in readiness. A box was sent to 
 the cell of Celeste, that contained a few books, 
 but princi|)aUy clothing, and Signore Testa was 
 induced to leave Buenos Ayres, some days ear- 
 lier than he had intended. 
 
 IVIr. Walker had already sent a person to Sr. 
 Testa's hotel, to request him to come to him, 
 when the two encountered each other at the 
 shallop of Captain Finngreen. Some words in 
 the letter, which Testa had given to young Wal- 
 ker tor Hinango, intimated that he had himself 
 simultaneously conceived the idea of taking with 
 him to Patagonia, Lorenzo, whose life was in 
 undoubted danger. 
 
 All the preparations for flight, were made 
 with the rapidity of lightning. Sr. Testa, upon 
 Mr. Walkers hint, hurried to the chapel of the 
 monastery, where Celeste awaited him, and 
 then to his hotel, where he confided all that 
 was necessary to young Oregham, whose co-op- 
 eration he required throughout. Without Ore- 
 gham's attendance, the jflurney through I he pam- 
 pas would have been imijossiliie, while his 
 presence facilitated it, as they only required to 
 reach the first Indian settlement, to receive fresh 
 horses, and, in case of need, the conduct of a 
 guard. They got happily past the outposts of 
 the " matopeiTos," and reached the first settle- 
 men tof the Patagonians, about thirty leagues 
 from Buenos Ayres, where the seeress of the 
 Inaken saw thern in her dream. 
 
 Yana Kirym stirred her fire, and placed a 
 small copper teakettle on a Delphic tripod, to 
 prepare for the guest the cha de matte, of which 
 she carried a supply with her. 
 
 Tlie old and young world of the Inaken vil- 
 lage, pressed as near as possible to " Prince 
 Oregham " and his two wliite friends, always,
 
 204 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 however, maintaining a due distance, which was 
 a natural etTect of the innate discretion of this 
 amiable tribe. 
 
 All three excited, in the highest degree, the 
 interest of the nation. Ovet;ham, because he 
 had been far — far away on the La Plata river, 
 and seen the stone toldos of the bloodthirsty 
 caciijue of the gauchos. Youna: and old ob- 
 served him, from his turban to his big toe, that 
 peeped forth from the boot, to discover if any 
 thing about liim were altered, but nothing was 
 found that was worth the trouble of looking at 
 him so hmg. At the utmost, he had become 
 six or seven .weel<s older, which was hardly to 
 be observed on his youthful countenance. Per- 
 haps Vala Limi found some sprouts of hair ger- 
 minating on his well formed chin — very pos- 
 sibly, but the repose and leisure for a confiden- 
 tial" hour of Patagonian love, in which the 
 sproutings of the youth's beard would disa])pear, 
 was not to be thought of for some time. These 
 caressings may, perhaps, not be so painful as they 
 appear, since they say, that every little hair 
 from the beard is paid fur with a kiss. Whether 
 the bride kisses the youth, or the youth the 
 bride, we have not, hitherto, been able to learn. 
 The information diffused through the revela- 
 tions of the sybil, that Celeste was a fugitive, 
 whom the bloodthirsty chief of the gauchos j ropean 
 had condemned to death, particularly excited 
 the universal sympathy of the good people for 
 him. No name filled with such horrors the 
 traditions of the Indians, as the murderous 
 deeds of Rosa-s, who, under the pretence of a 
 "war against the savages," had shown his so 
 called bravery, and risen from gaucho, or clerk, 
 to " general." The history of these Indian 
 tribes affords, like so many others, facts as in- 
 teresting as horrible, in relation to a war of ex- 
 termination, by which " pure and civilized Chris- 
 tians" have oppressed the nationality and the 
 primitive relisjion of so called savage nations. 
 Only the hypocrisy of a characterless age, like 
 our own, could throw a veil over the disgrace 
 of such a Christianity, which, however, not- 
 withstanding this, is everywhere apparent in 
 its shameless selfishness. 
 
 Celeste's personal a(ipearance had something 
 imposing, and commanding reverence, that 
 involuntarily fixed upon him the eyes of the 
 toldo population. Tlie dignity and elevated 
 stature of his noble form, the pallid counte- 
 nance, stamped with suffering, and embrowned 
 by the wind of the pampas, which had blown 
 around him in his flight of weeks on horseback, 
 harmonized with his dark, monastic beard, 
 which a broad cravat had concealed until he 
 arrived at the Indian settlements, and which was 
 there, as here, a recommendation to him. 
 
 The old, dignified cacique hastened to meet 
 him, with a formal greeting, offering him his 
 tribe as his nation, and all Patagonia as a free 
 fatherland, in case he, as an adopted son, should 
 wish to make use of them. So called uncivil- 
 ized nations, more or less in a state of nature, 
 not unfrequently surprise us by their keen and 
 just judgement of the men with whom they come 
 in contact. The undeniable principle of attrac- 
 tion and repulsion, often indicates itself in tlie 
 minds of men in a state of nature, by agrceabU 
 tokens. Only the unfortunate misunderstandingf 
 which have induced foreigners to resort to arms 
 
 where they had been met with hospitality, de- 
 stroy the bond of humanity, which is held more 
 sacred in the heart of many uncivilzed nations, 
 than in our civilized world. 
 
 The Inaken cacique, Rhabukih, distinguished 
 two species of me»: men with mustaclies, and 
 men without. The history of the Indian races 
 had given him an idea of European civilization, 
 that encourages shaving. He had, once for all, 
 denied himself all communication with any 
 European whatever of the " razor civilization," 
 and evinced, like the negroes in Brazil, an ad- 
 mirable tact in distinguishing the nationality of 
 the Europeans. 
 
 This tact of the so called half savages, may 
 be partly grounded on the fact, that they always 
 find opportunity to judge of the various national 
 physiognomies of their own and other tribes, 
 and pursue the same course towards Europeans. 
 No Briton would easily have deceived the old 
 cacique, in case he should have given himself 
 out, with a natural beard, to be a Spaniard, a 
 Frenchman, or an Italian. " Any one can let 
 his mustaches grow?" said Rhabukih, in very dis- 
 torted Spanish, as he conversed with Celeste 
 about the bearded and the beardless, " but every 
 face does not agree with them. I can paint my 
 face white, but 1 should not therefore be a Eu- 
 1 can fasten a horse's mane upon an ox, 
 but he would not then be a horse." 
 
 Yana Kirym had prepared the refreshment for 
 Celeste, who, at her intimation, looked for this 
 cup, which he had brought with him as a sacred 
 memorial of the farewell from his friend, and 
 from Dolores. He placed himself under the 
 medical care of the mysterious old woman, with- 
 out having attained a clear knowledge of her- 
 self and her prophetic gift. It had certainly 
 been long known to him that similar prophet- 
 esses were found among the tribes of Patagoniaas ; 
 but he was as far from all superstition in respect 
 to them, as he was on the other hand inclined to 
 satisfy hin-.sclf of a peculiarity, which, as a so 
 called" sixth sense," or " second sight," is evin- 
 ced in many races of people by undeniable facts. 
 
 The old cacique led the strangers to the nearest 
 steaming fleshpot, and by degrees began to in- 
 quire of his son concerning the wonder-world 
 
 of stone toldos on La Plata river ; and the mur- 
 derous acts of the Cacique Rosas, and his friend- 
 ship with the razor nation. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY AND RELIGION. 
 
 Oregh.^m had relinquished his tent to the 
 two guests, and furnished it with all the conve- 
 niences that the customs and mode of life of his 
 tribe permitted. The habitation itself was set 
 in the ground about the depth of two feet, and tht 
 earth thus thrown out formed a low wall, with 
 the stems of trees set in it, after the manner of a 
 Gothic roof, supporting the buifalo hides, which 
 presented an opening above, likewise covered at 
 night with hides. The topmost layer of the hule 
 roof resembled the cover upon a saddle, and 
 afforded the necessary passage to the rain.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 205 
 
 On both sides, in the interior of the toldo, ele- 
 vations of earth were left, wliich, covered with 
 buffalo hides, formed a sort of divan. 
 
 The saddle of the Pata^onians, a piece of wood 
 with a heap of thongs which meet togetlier in 
 two rings, serves (as before mentioned) for a pil- 
 low, and the poncho for a covering. In relation 
 to the breakfast of the guests, it may be remarked 
 as a peculiarity, that the Patagonians, surround- 
 ed by thousands and thousands of cows, use no 
 milk ;* they of course prepare neither cheese nor 
 butter. Their drink is fresh water and cha de 
 matt^, which they, like the Brazilians, receive 
 from the before mentioned provinces in leather 
 bags, and obtain by barter. 
 
 Flesh or fowl, cooked with a celery plant, a 
 sort of bulb, and its broth, which forms a well 
 relished " bouillon," is their principal food. The 
 mode of life of these hordes is peaceful and sim- 
 ple. Strife and dissension are very rare in the 
 society of a tribe ; of course lawyers find no op 
 portunity of " making money " among them. If, 
 nevertheless, a disagreement occurs, the cacique 
 decides it, according to his views and experience^ 
 and generally with undeniable sagacity. 
 
 Although each possesses his own property, 
 stealing and cheating are not only unknown, but 
 a stranger's handkerchief cannot be lost, without 
 arriving again into possession of the owner. On 
 the other hand, dishonesty and intentional pil- 
 fering is all the more the order of the day, on 
 the inhabited coasts of the country, and in the 
 European settlements. It will there serve as a 
 rule for every stranger, not to allow the least 
 thing of any value whatever to be seen, since it 
 would undoubtedly disappear, even in as myste- 
 rious a manner as at times precious stones are 
 
 turned to pebbles. • 
 
 It would certainly lead to mournful reflections, 
 if we should throw light on the position of the 
 European settlers, who there, as in almost every 
 transatlantic colony, seek in every way to " make 
 money," under pretence that they have left their 
 fatherland on account of the restriction of their 
 " industrious activity," or have sought the New 
 
 World " from love to freedom." 
 
 Where the notion of liberty includes the per- 
 mission to steal in a cunning manner, and to 
 pilfer their property from natives and strangers, 
 the civilization is not particularly advanced, 
 ■with which the Europeans would bless the so 
 called " savage nations." 
 
 No circumstance shows us this civilization of 
 the Europeans in a stronger light than their po- 
 sition in the New World, in regard to the natives, 
 with v/hom we must not find fault, if they, like 
 ihe Patagonians, look upon every white man, by 
 anticipation, as a selfish cheat, who comes 
 among them to transact business after his own 
 manner. 
 
 The toldo village of the Cacique El Rojo lay 
 about eighty English miles from the outlet of 
 the Rio Negro into St. Matthias Bay, where the 
 harbour of St. Antonio admitted of commerce 
 with the northern provinces of South America, 
 by an exportation of the productions of the 
 country, amongst which salt, obtained by the 
 evaporation of sea water, predominated. 
 
 The navigation, however, is dangerous, from 
 
 ♦Wildness of the herda ia given as the cause of this 
 lingular privation, but single cows could be tamed easily 
 enough. 
 
 sandbanks and pamperos, and only enterprism" 
 seamen are induced to take freight from Buenos 
 Ayres, St. Catherina, Rio de Janeiro, Rio 
 Grande, &c., there and back. The Danisli flag, 
 one of the most numerous in Rio de Janeiro,* 
 is also the best known on the coast of Patagonia. 
 Signore Testa had, for years, freighted many 
 vessels for St. Matthias Bay, under the above 
 mentioned circumstances, and had once more 
 undertaken tliis journey towards Buenos Ayres, 
 for such an object. 
 
 He had there again engaged a Danish vessel, 
 to sail for St. Matthias Bay, which was to return 
 to Buenos Ayres, and the contract was already 
 concluded, when he was made acquainted with 
 the circumstances of the persecuted individuals 
 whom we designate by the general name of 
 " Humanitarios." 
 
 According to all regulations for the freighting 
 of vessels, and under the circumstances of this 
 unpretending contract, it remained a critical 
 affair to make the proposal to the Danish cap- 
 tain, to steer towards Rio de Janeiro, instead of 
 St. Antonio, or, even by a circuitous passage, 
 and with loss of time, to set a passenger on 
 shore at Monte Video, while, at the same time, 
 a visit from the Argentine vessels of war, at the 
 mouth of the La Plata, was to be feared. 
 
 Lorenzo's resolution to go, if possible, to Rio 
 Grande, there, sword in hand, to preach the gos- 
 pel of the future, (and, in case Providence had 
 so determined, to seal his testimony with his 
 blood,) was already matured at the grave of 
 Alphonso. 
 
 During the three days which Yana Kiiym had 
 set apart as a period of mysterious inquiry, she 
 kept herself in the strictest seclusion from all 
 the toldo world. 
 
 Lorenzo lelt, for the first time, the conse- 
 quences of such unusual exertion, and all the 
 discomforts of a ride a la Mazcppa, when he 
 came to repose himself For the first day, he 
 remained on his bufialo hide divan, under the 
 careful attendance of Vala Limi, and the little 
 ostrich rider, who hardly moved from his side. 
 
 Testa availed himself of the absence of the 
 priestess, to occupy himself with very prosaic 
 matters, sorting ostrich feathers and ox horns, 
 which he had received in exchange for Swiss 
 calico and head-handkerchiefs, for transporta- 
 tion to the bay of St. Matthias. 
 
 Of course all went on in the usual manner, 
 and the doings amongst the toldos were carried 
 on upon the customary footing, as at the similar 
 arrival of any Spaniard or Italian amongst an 
 Indian tribe on the borders of the Rio Negro. 
 
 Two nights had passed, and Signore Testa lay, 
 on the third evening, on his divan of buffalo 
 hides, opposite to his friend, and smoked his 
 cigarette, and drank, with him, the aromatic 
 cha de matt£. Their conversation turned upon 
 the spiritual contest of our age, which is here 
 and there already carried on with weajions, and 
 which, according to Lorenzo's view, will pass 
 into a universal religious war, or contest of 
 faith. 
 The Italian had, until now, from consideration 
 
 * According to the Annual Harbour Reports, the ma. 
 jority of vessels there are under Scandinavian flags. Ia 
 the year 1S43, there were atone time, owing to the very 
 low freight, -23 Danish and 32 Swedish and Norwegian 
 vessels in the bay of Kio.
 
 206 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 fir Celeste's state of mind, intentionally avoided 
 IfcLiIing him to detailed communication of his 
 politico-religious convictions, but appeared not 
 the less inclined to receive his confession of 
 faith in this respect so soon as the other found 
 himself fit for the exertion. 
 
 " Since my childhood," be;j;an Tjorenzo, " the 
 spiritual life has stirred within nie, which un- 
 folds itself in us more and more, as an eternally 
 movinj:, searching power, striving upward more 
 and still more to the li<rht of truth, the more 
 we are penetrated by the mysterious ray of a 
 higher existence. Thouoht, which seems to 
 harmonize this earthly existence with a higher 
 world, endeavoring to conceive of it established 
 as an clement of being, and eternally leading 
 back upon the unrevealed mystery of the idea 
 of Divinity, was manifested in me as a powerful 
 force, and carried me forward in inquiry and 
 contemplation, with burning soul-thirst after 
 knowledge. 
 
 " My education was entrusted to a European, a 
 Spaniard, who had been persecuted by the church 
 in Europe, because he followed the spiritual 
 direction pointed out by the philosophy of the 
 former century. I ivas more or less acrjuainted 
 with the various philosophical systems, which, 
 in rigid contradiction to each other, indicate 
 the unfettered strivings of the spirit, that seeks 
 to enclose in " forms," what no human intellect 
 has, up to the present time, been able to appre- 
 hend under any fixed form. 
 
 " At length I recognised all philosophy as the 
 highest vital element of reason in the urgency 
 of self-contemplation. But I recognised, at the 
 same lime, all philosophical systems, as the de 
 signs and plans of various architects to carry up 
 an edifice, in which was a point of view, where 
 man expected the voice o{ truth, but heard only 
 his own Voice, as the organ of the spirit that 
 spoke out of himself 
 
 " I placed myself upon this point of the basis 
 of the various systems, leaned my ear to the in- 
 dicated places in the acomfic rotunda of the 
 earthly and spheral universe, and the echo of 
 all knowledge, led me back to myself, to the 
 consciousness within me, that a higher spirit, in 
 myself, spoke to me. I recognised " reason " as 
 the highest evidence upon earth, and reason 
 itself forced into the acoustic edifice of this or 
 that philosophical system. Thought appeared 
 to me like a prisoner crippled in a dungeon. 
 
 " And upon no basis, upon no point of view 
 of philosophical perception, did I find more 
 clearness than I was able to develop in myself. 
 
 " I distinguished three sequent acoustic edi- 
 fices of philosophic doctrine. 
 
 " I entered one, whose arch was closed at the 
 top by the architectural key-stone that held the 
 edifice together, but admitted of no prospect into 
 the interminable spheral world of higher regions ; 
 the gloomy darkness of the grave surrounded me. 
 It was the edifice of Atheism, based on the 
 "system of denial," without foundation, inas- 
 much as the ccmtradictions of atheism have no 
 support in themselves, for it denies Spirit as the 
 source of all being, and of course denies also the 
 foundation of its own edifice. 
 
 " I entered another philosophical acoustic edi- 
 fice, likewise closed m its arch, but with high 
 wiudows on all sides, looking out upon the 
 
 animated earthly erection, the edifice of cold 
 Pantheism, whose basis, brought together from 
 all the realms of nature, showed to me, as ft 
 man the position in which I saw myself, as a 
 man on earth, separted from the higher idea 
 of being, existing as an isolated creature, as an 
 /—as a Myself, in the dreary desert of Indiviud- 
 alism. 
 
 " In the edifice of atheism I was conducted 
 by the leading-strings of contradiction to the 
 abyss of insanity, for I was to deny a primitive 
 power, w^hose effects in my own S[)lritual ex- 
 istence I was not able to deny. 
 
 " In the edifice of pantheism I was chilled by 
 the arrogance of egotism, the notion of a son 
 that denied tlie father, and the notion of spirit 
 contracted within itself, denied the source from 
 whence it streamed through me. 
 
 " I wandered around in the desire for light, I 
 sought and struggled on in the thirst after truth, 
 and I entered the third edifice of philosophy. It 
 was a higher, more exalted, more splendid tem- 
 ple, with similar bow windows around, with 
 delightful prospects of animated nature, but in 
 the cupola, a far, wide view up into the zenith 
 of the universe, and my spirit felt itself drawn 
 upward to the mysterious source of the light, 
 whose glimmering rays shone about me, and 
 awakened my soul to the joyful consciousness of 
 a relation with the inscrutable zenith-idea: 
 Deity. It was the edifice of Spiritualism, founded 
 upon the granite of the existence of a higher 
 power, proceeding from the idea : God, the source 
 of all being, uniting the Son, (humanity) with 
 himself, through the Spirit of life. 
 
 " Thus I involuntarily recognised the triad of 
 the existence of our incarnation, in spirit, soul, 
 and body, represented by the three different 
 combined systems of the philosophy of all ages. 
 Spiritualism, Pantheism, and Atheism. 
 
 " I recognised the body as a form, as the mate- 
 rial instrument of the soul ; spirit, as the con- 
 sciousness of the divine power in man, which 
 unites the soul and body with each other. I had 
 become as clear in myself, as the human spirit in 
 a shell of clay can attain to clearness, and my 
 perception led me to Faith. 
 
 " I believed, and I loved ! You know, superfi- 
 cially," continued he, after a pause, " the history 
 of my past life. I found a being whose love 
 strengthened me, in the long struggle with 
 doubt, which 1 passed through, until f attained 
 the perception that I have endeavored to ex- 
 plain to you. But even although penetrated by 
 the ray of spiritualism, I nevertheless felt myself 
 entangled in the flowery garlands of pantheism, 
 which pointed out to me, (as an egotist under the 
 demands of individualism,) life as an incontesti- 
 ble possession, and the enjoyment of life as the 
 highest aim. I experienced the reciprocal love 
 of a being who understood me, and in this 
 blending of our two beings through attraction, 
 upon an equal scale of spiritual life, I recog- 
 nised Love. 
 
 " Theresa died — and it was with me, as if a 
 part of my existence had been torn away from 
 me in her person. If you have ever loved — if 
 you have ever been loved — in the highest, holi- 
 est sense of the word, you will understand me, 
 and can explain to yourself the crisis which 
 decided my future upon her bier. I chose the 
 tonsure and the monastic cell from conviction.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 207 
 
 Penetrated by Faith, I goucrlit in religion, as the 
 centre of spiritualism, consolation and support 
 for my inward life, and an asvlum in the lap of 
 the church, under the foolish" illusion; that the 
 church was founded on religion, which she 
 should represent. 
 
 " I received consecration, with a hoI_v inspira- 
 tion for my future crilling— I husied mvself in 
 the uninterrupted study of church history, and 
 recognised the unity of" all religion, as I had re- 
 cognised the unity of the conception: God. I 
 traced the Christian religion,and arrived, through 
 Mosaism, at the mystery of the f:gvptian idea of 
 Unity, (which was concealed from the people 
 througli the high priest of Isis)— and was led 
 hackward to Buddhism, in which I again recog- 
 nised file Christian myth of Trinity. 
 
 " I now sought religion in the church, and, very 
 naturally, firsi in Catholicism, and I beheld the 
 idea of Christianity in the blood of the martyrs of 
 those first ages, when Christianitv arose out of 
 the ruins of IMosaism, like a phenix from the 
 ashes of a destroyed temple. I beheld the Chris- 
 tian religion, thronghout centuries, as the element 
 of movement, of progress, of the ennoblement 
 of mankind ; until the church (as the instrument 
 of absolutism) issued the false coin of dogmatic 
 statutes, which prescribed forms to men, to choke 
 the Spirit, that threatened danger to all absolu- 
 tism. 
 
 " I saw the spirit of the Nazarene enchained 
 and bound down by the canons of the church ; 
 and the church, by degrees, became a prison for 
 the spirit, with subterranean dungeons, with 
 racks and torture, for the extirpation of the idea 
 for which the Son of Man had laid down his 
 life. 
 
 " I recognised in Jesus the man, who, when 
 suffering under the pangs of death, breathed forth 
 the sigh : ' IMy God ! my God ! why hast thou 
 forsaken me >' a sigh that soars upward from 
 the whole of supplicating humanity. Honoring 
 in Jesus the man who offered his life for the de- 
 liverance of mankind, since he sealed with his 
 blood the doctrines of equality, of love to man, 
 and of justice, I looked for Christianity in our 
 age, on earth— and for disciples of Jesus, in the 
 lap of the church. And I found no trace of 
 Christianity. 
 
 " The church has become an Augean stable, 
 filled with the rubbish of intolerance and unbe- 
 lief, heaped up in the dark night of stupidity, 
 kept humid with the blood of freedom's martyrs 
 in all nations, and with the wine spilled at 
 priestly orgies and bacchanals to the ' remission 
 of sill,' through the well paid ' absolution ' of a 
 shamefully betrayed Christendom. 
 
 " I beheld, however, apostles of the doctrine 
 of Jesus coming forward, from century to cen- 
 tury, in the consciousness of their sacred mission, 
 to point to the Augean stable of the church, that 
 mankind might cleanse it. And I beheld these 
 apostles outlawed and burnt— Jacques Molay, 
 and John Huss, and 1 recognised De Lamenai's' 
 as their follower. I beheld in De Lamenais, the 
 union of spiritualism as philosophy, with Catho- 
 licism as religion, in rigid opposition to thejiiste 
 milieu of Protestantism and the absolutism of 
 popery. The notions of Catholicism and popery 
 appeared to me as rigidly separated from each 
 other as the notions of " religion " and of 
 " church " 
 
 " I beheld in the struggle of the Templars and 
 the Hussites, the idea 'religion' contending 
 against the absolutism which the popedom (a3 
 church and state) combines in itself, and I recog- 
 nised in De Lamenais, a phenomenon which will 
 perhaps bring on a yet longer, and even as bloody 
 a struggle, in all nations upon earth, as the 
 struggles of the Tem|)lai-s and the Hussites. 
 
 " 1 behold the central evil indicated by De 
 Lamenais, which burdens mankind with iWon- 
 archy and Priesthood ; but at the same time, also, 
 the misery of subjugated humanity in conse- 
 quence of both evils, "which can only be resisted 
 and conquered by a subversion of "the existino- 
 social prejudices ;" by Social Reform, which pre'^ 
 supposes political and religious reform. 
 
 " I recognise, and would die for the truth, that 
 all the endeavors and struggles of noble men, 
 who seek to alleviate the miseries of mankind by 
 social reform, will remain fruitless, without po- 
 litical and religious reform, without an over- 
 throw of all social evil existing until now. I 
 merely avail myself of the word Reform instead 
 of Revolution. 
 
 " I recognise the basis of Society of our age as 
 false, as vile, and, moreover, as defiled, and the 
 prevailing maxims and prejudices, as evidently 
 in contradiction to nature and reason. I recog- 
 nise every crime as privileged under the firm of 
 virtue, in so far as church and state give men 
 free leave to sin, so that they do not disturb the 
 defiled basis of their hypocritical existence. 
 
 " I behold the virtue of all virtue : ' the love 
 of man to mankind,' pointed out as vices and 
 crimes ; materialism and egotism, as the ruling 
 principles, the chigote and the yard measure 
 swinging for the subjugation of. the people and 
 the spirit, in republics as well as in monarchies ! 
 " I see the abyss to which mankind is hasten- 
 ing with forced steam power, by water and by 
 land, while they acknowledge no higher element 
 of life than that of sensuality, loveless beastiality, 
 under the pretence of propagating such an unin- 
 tellectual human race. The worth of man is es- 
 timated by money, and in all history of mankind, 
 until our epoch, man never availed himself of 
 this dishonorable measure towards men — never ! 
 " But Mankind will not decline, for it is only 
 the animated form of a higher idea of deity, 
 revealed to us in its eflfects. 
 
 " Humanity will awaken, and the Augean sta- 
 ble of the church will be swept out, "and the 
 hundred moleheaps of money-making sects, who 
 desecrate the word ' religion' as the firm of their 
 extended Business, will be trodden down like 
 moleheaps, when the angel with the drawn sword 
 shall come ! 
 
 "The salvation of human nature shall come 
 again, not as a person, but as an event in the 
 world ! It will drive out the usurers and shop- 
 keepers, the traders of men and buyers of souls, 
 
 from the temple of humanity ! 
 
 " When can we travel to Rio Grande .'" said 
 Celeste, interrupting himself, as he sprang from 
 his divan of buffalo hides. 
 
 Testa was just about to answer, as Vana 
 Kirym called his name on the outside of the 
 tent; he went to meet her, and begged her to 
 come into the tent, and take a seat by him.
 
 208 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SECOND SIGHT. 
 
 Instead of accepting the invitation to spat 
 liei'self on the earthen step withiTi the tuldo, 
 Yan.i Klnin beckoned to her old acijoaintance to 
 come out to hsr, and with a second wave of her 
 hand, she signified that Lozenzo also might 
 appear. 
 
 Both now stood near the old woman, who di- 
 rected their attention to a crowd of people, that 
 6urroundod a group of riders. It was a white 
 man, in P.itagonian costume, heavily armed, and 
 accompanied by some Inakcn and Puelches, 
 whose horses steamed and snorted under them. 
 
 Loud murmuring and talking were heard in 
 the crowd, wlio moved nea.'er so soon as tlie tra- 
 veller perceived the Italian Testa in front of the 
 Toldo. 
 
 The tired horse galloped the last fifty paces 
 to where the Italian stood, and then feeling him- 
 self disburthened of his rider, dropped his head 
 from exiiaustion. 
 
 Oregham, who had received the rider, and was 
 likewise on horseback, beckoned to some of his 
 people to unsaddle the poor animal, and throw a 
 ouflalo skin over him, for the evening was cool, 
 and the lulr.^e steamed, and had been overridden. 
 
 " Thank God that I meet you, Signore Testa .'" ■ 
 be^an the traveller ; " and this gentleman is pro- 
 bably the one expected," added he, with a glance ' 
 to Lorenzo. j 
 
 The person who spoke thus, vvas a slender, I 
 lean man, of middle age, and with a serious 
 countenance ; Mr. Farren, a North American, 
 who had formerly carried on the whaling busi- 
 ness at the Falkland Islands, and had lived lor 
 some years in Port St. Antonio, on the Bay of 
 St. Matthias, in intimacy with the Italian, as 
 his neighbour. 
 
 Signore Testa could hardly reply for astonish- 
 ment, to the address of his friend, who put his 
 hand into his Patagonian sack, and gave him a 
 letter. Then turning to Prince Oregham, he beg- 
 ged for a drink of water, for he was very thirsty, 
 and the folds of his head- handkerchief, as well 
 as his eyebrows and whiskers, were powdered 
 with sand. 
 
 " From a friend who is not personally known 
 to you — Captain Barigaldi, of the schooner Maz- 
 zini, lying in our harbour since the day before 
 yesterday," added he, while Testa broke the seal, 
 whose device, " Ora e sempre," expressed be- 
 forehand the character of the sender. 
 
 Some boys had, at Oregham's bidding, brought 
 ajar of fresli water, and a silver cup with chi 
 de matt^. Mr. Farren drank, and Signore Testa 
 read as follows : 
 
 " Port St. Antonio, Oct., — , 1838. 
 
 On board the schooner * Jlfazziiii.' 
 
 " God with us ! 
 
 " I met a Swedish brig, the Nordstjernan, four- 
 teen days ago, on the English bank, at the mouth 
 of La Plata river. With lugilives on board, from 
 Buenos Ayres for Rio de .laneiro, under the escort 
 of one of our friends, Hinango, a Scandinavian. 
 
 " I learned from him, that you had the noble- 
 minded intention to take with you, on your de- 
 parture from Buenos Ayres, if possible, an asso- 
 ciate who was in danger there, over the pampas, 
 
 to this coast. I accompanied the Nordstjernan to 
 the latitude of Rio Grande, and Hinango gave me 
 your address for Port St. Antonio. 
 
 " I considered it my duty to direct my course 
 hither, for the possible case that you may have 
 accomplislied the deliverance of our comrade. 
 
 " Our flag brought the bearer of this on board 
 to me, when I had cast anchor here, and I satis- 
 fied myself that he is your friend, and is ready, 
 as a man, to serve the cause which we repre- 
 sent. I learned from hitn, that you would pro- 
 bably not return direct to St. Antonio, but by 
 way of the toldos of an Inaken tribe on the other 
 side of the Lago de Tehuel. He ofl'ered himself 
 to carry you the intelligence that 1 was here, or 
 to leave with tiie cacique of the triiie the infor- 
 mation and this letter, in case you have not yet 
 ari'ived there. 
 
 " In case ycm are still on the way, and should 
 receive this letter within three days after the 
 arrival of the bearer at the settlement of F.l Uojo, 
 then know that I shall await you here until 
 then, and reckon thirty hours more for your 
 journey from Lago de Tehuel to Port St. Antonio. 
 Unhappily, the position of affairs in Rio Grande, 
 and my individual duty, will not permit me to 
 remain here longer. God grant that 1 may not 
 be here in vain, and that you have succeeded in 
 delivering our brother, whose standing and vi'orfh 
 
 j are known to me. 
 
 " The bearer will communicate to you many 
 
 ' particulars of the voyage of the Nordstjernan, 
 
 and of a rencontre with an Argentine cutter, as 
 
 far as 1 have been able, in all haste, to impart 
 
 them to him. 
 
 " In the hope of soon embracing our associate, 
 
 Senhor Lorenzo de V , perhaps in your 
 
 company. Your Brother, 
 
 Barigaldi." 
 
 Hardly had Signore Testa read the first line of 
 this letter, than he shared it with the brother 
 whose deliverance it concerned, and both read 
 it together, while the evening twilight by de- 
 grees veiled the handwriting. Lorenzo looked 
 silently towards heaven, without being able to 
 find words to speak his thanks for such care and 
 sympathy on the part of the " young European" 
 for him, and for the cause of South America to 
 which he had devoted himself. 
 
 " 1 am ready to depart with you instantly," 
 said he, pressing a hand of each. Every form 
 of thanks appeared feeble and insufficient to 
 express his feelings. 
 
 " Ye shall stay here to-night," said Yana Ki- 
 rym, who had, until now, earnestly observed 
 eveiy motion and every look of the three white 
 men. 
 
 " Tiiou must repose here this night,'' said she, 
 turning particularly to Mr. Farren, " for thou art 
 weary and worn out with thy ride, and 1 have 
 yet a word to say, in all quiet, with this friend of 
 Ach-eKenat Kanet," pointing to Lorenzo. 
 
 *' The son of the ocean who has sent thee, will 
 not exj>ect thee so soon as ye shall reach him. 
 Sit down then by the Hesh pot and eat, and srnoke 
 a cigarette with thy friend from tlie seashore, 
 while I reveal to the friend of Ach-eKenat Ka- 
 net what He hath revealed to me, for him, and 
 for you all." 
 
 With these words she beckoned the Span- 
 iard to follow her, and walked with him through
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 209 
 
 ttie foldog, to a hill clothed with a group of frees, 
 where she seated herself, and Lorenzo did the 
 name. Behind them lay the Inaken village, with 
 its glimmering fireplaces and dark clouds of turf 
 smoke rising in the still night, by degrees em- 
 bracing its sister twilight in the peaceful bonds 
 of repose. Before them spread the waving, illi- 
 mitable plains, of similar mile-wide hills, with 
 groups of trees and thickets, scarce perceptibly 
 interrupted by sandy bottoms. The direct line 
 of the far, far distance was separated, like the 
 horizon on tlje o|)en sea, from the transparently 
 clear evening sky, which here and tliere re- 
 flected its gradually fading splendor in the wide 
 stream. 
 
 Countless swarms of fowl of various species 
 whirred through the mild summer air, and sank 
 to their re|)0se in the waving sea of grass. The 
 lowing of the herd.? subsided by degrees, and the 
 neighing of the horses became less frequent. 
 Louder and louder sounded the bowlings of the 
 wild dogs, and the watchers of the Inaken 
 horde rode shiwly aboiit, with loaded slings, 
 prepared to encounter this "barbarized Euro- 
 pean race" with their maiming contents. 
 
 hon'i did Vana Kirym sit beside the friend of 
 Ach-eKcnat K:)net without a word. She seemed 
 to allow him the time, to receive within him- 
 self tlie impression of a grand and strangely 
 foreign nature, and then lifted up her voice and 
 epoke in broken Sjianish : 
 
 " I have asked of Ach-^Kenat Kanet who thou 
 art ? and be has told it to me in dreams. I know 
 tliee, and thy mission to thy people ; thou comest 
 from a grave, and goest where graves will be 
 filled. Thy future is cleir to me, but it mast 
 remain dark to thee according to tlie will of Acb- 
 ^Kenat Kanet. But that 1 know thy future I 
 will show thee, because I will tell thee some 
 things about the lot of others who are dear to 
 thee, but not all that I know. 
 
 " I saw about thee and the friend from whose 
 grave thou comest, a woman and a youth. Both 
 go from danger into danger ,especially the woman, 
 for she is a woman, and the world of the white 
 people in which she lives is corrupt in its morals 
 and regulations, and does not acknowledge the 
 dignity of woman ; and those who desire to pro- 
 tect thy friend are preparing for her downfall. 
 
 *' When the moon that now rises there, has 
 turned its full face four times upon us, and when 
 she has then vanished entirely for the fourth 
 time, then will evil days come for many — f(tr all 
 that Ach-eKenat Kanet hath bound by his spirit 
 to thee and to each other — those whom thou dost 
 not yet know." 
 
 She paused, and then continued in a gentle, sad 
 tone : " The little that Ach-eKenat Kanet has 
 revelled to me in a dream concerning thy futiu'e, 
 and tlie fate of those who are united with thee, I 
 may not reveal to thee ; I can only warn thee ; 
 but in this case warning is of little avail. 
 
 " All might have ended otherwise, if your man- 
 ners and laws had been different," she continued, 
 with a deep sigh " Butyour wretchedness lies in 
 the slave trade of women, in the willingness and 
 haste of the slaves to sell themselves, and in the 
 'JifficuUy which the slaves, who feel themselves 
 free, find in protecting themselves before sale. 
 There lies the misery, and there lie the bodies of 
 the slain ; and ye call that civilization in your 
 tongue, and would introduce such civilization 
 27 
 
 amongst us, through your missionaries witk 
 beards and without beards. 
 
 " The bearded call themselves Christians, and 
 show us a piece of wood or metal, and say, it i^ 
 your God ; the image of a man nailed to a cross ; 
 and tell us of the virgin that bore him, and call 
 this virgin the mother of God, whose lover was 
 a Holy Spirit, and that that spirit was even God 
 himself, and that the virgin then bore him — God 
 himself. 
 
 " The white people may comprehend all that, 
 but we Inaken understand that Ach-eKenat 
 Kanet is almighty, and that we shall live after 
 death, and will have to give an account in an- 
 other world to Ach-^Kenat Kanet. The story 
 of the holy virgin we do not comprehend. 
 
 " Then come the missionaries without beards, 
 who also call themselves Christians, and carry a 
 thick book that they call the Word of God, and 
 affirm that the mother of God is not their Ueity, 
 and that the doctrine of the missionaries with 
 beards is false, and they will not have any thingto 
 do with the mother of God, but preach only of the 
 Son, and say his blood redeemed the worlil two 
 thousand years ago. And these same whites, 
 who call themselves Christians, with beards and 
 without beards, come here over the sea, and 
 trade in men, and show us the image of their 
 God and the thick book, and fall upon us in our 
 foldos, and help the cacique from La Plata river 
 to kill us, and have brought bloodhounds here 
 and firearms and seek to exterminate us and 
 steal our cattle, and kneel down before their 
 wooden God, or their metal God, and swear br 
 the thick book, and kiss the leather on the thick 
 book, and entice our virgins into their toldos, and 
 call that Christianity ! 
 
 " If 1 had not my duty to fulfil here in my 
 nation, I would journey into the country of the 
 whites, over the sea, and teach and preach of 
 Ach-eKenat Kanet, the only God, of whom no 
 image can he seen, because no one has ever seen 
 him, but who reveals himself to us in the flowers 
 of every grassy mound, and in the stars that glit- 
 ter there above ! 
 
 " Our virgins have no intercourse with holy 
 or unholy spirits, but with youths and men, and 
 choose their lovers, and the youth or man 
 chooses his wife, and often both choices meet; 
 and the children of our people are healthy and 
 strong, and thou seest no men amongst us that 
 are born cripples, no wretched beings who owa 
 their existence to intoxication, for we are not ac- 
 quainted with the stimulants of civilization. 
 
 " None of our virgins would prefer one man to 
 another because he has more oxen, but becausa 
 he loves her more than another. And then 
 come the wliites, and call themselves Christians, 
 and want to give us burning water poison for our 
 oxen, and to poison our men and our women 
 with poison water, and feed our virgins with 
 pepper and vanilla, and call that civilization. 
 
 " Tell the white women slaves, where thoa 
 findest them : ' I greet you from Yana Kirym, 
 the friend of Ach-eKenat Kanet, of the tribe ot 
 the Inaken, and say to you : If you cannot livs 
 without burning water, and pepper, and can- 
 tharides, and vanilla, remain single and be 
 ashamed in your white skins. And if you give 
 yourself to a man, because he has many oxen and 
 horses, then will your children not he men ! 
 And if you give yourselves to a man who cheat*
 
 m 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 his broflier and breaks his word, and ye know it, 
 then will your children be cheats and word- 
 breakers, by your example ! and your people 
 will point at them with the finger, for ; As the 
 bull so is the calf! 
 
 " ' And if ye hasten to attach yourselves to a 
 man, for fear that ye shall remain single, then 
 know that Ach-eKenat Kanet has ways and 
 means to convey the seed-dust of the flower from 
 chalice to chalice, although the flower may re- 
 main fastened to its stem, and the stem to its 
 root J 
 
 " 'As Ach-eKenat Kanet, fills the cup of a 
 flower with pollen by a gentle breeze, and, in the 
 case of need, through butterflies and bees, that 
 carry it from the male to the female flower, 
 so will he also find ways and means to convey 
 your feelings from your hearts to those of the 
 men, and awaken love for you, if your hearts are 
 aroused to love ! 
 
 " ' Therefore, be not over hasty, and do not sell 
 yourselves for daily bread, or earthly goods, for 
 what you as virgins give to your husbands is 
 your highest and holiest, and you can only give 
 it once I no power on earth can replace it, when 
 once ye have yielded it !' 
 
 " Tell all this to your white women slaves, 
 and lay it to their hearts, that they may believe 
 in Ach-eKenat Kanet, and in the evening breeze, 
 and in the butterflies and bees that lly from 
 flower to flower and bring their love together ! 
 
 " And tell your youths and men to take ex- 
 ample from our people, in the consciousness of 
 their dignity — to know and feel to what tribe 
 they belong, and that all kindred tribes form one 
 people, united by manners and language ! Tell 
 them to love each other, as the sons of one peo- 
 ple, and exercise hospitality towards every son 
 of another people, when he approaches them in 
 peace in Ach-eKenat Kanet. Let all recognise 
 each other as brethren, and unite themselves as 
 a nation, to fight against the bloodthirsty ca- 
 ciques, who conquer countries and slay nations, 
 and treat the subjugated tribes like animals 1 
 
 '* Tell the youths and men to stand up as the 
 sons of their nation, all for one, and one for all, 
 like my people in Patagonia, in the struggle 
 against the cacique of the gauchos from the 
 Plata river, and against the whites with beards 
 and without beards, who call themselves Chris- 
 tians, and traflic in men, in mockery of Ach- 
 ^Kenat Kanet, who directs the stars above, and 
 calls us at death to himself in a better world " 
 
 She sighed deeply, and continued : " As con- 
 cerns the fate of tliy friend, and those who are 
 involved in it, Ach-eKenat Kanet has placed 
 guards hero and there, and what is to be saved 
 will be saved — if it be not in life, then in death. 
 For where men will neitlior hear nor see, and 
 eital)lish and maintain laws in contradiction to 
 nature, and to the spirit of Ach-£Kcnat Kanet — 
 there the fruit develops itself from tlie flower ; 
 and where thorns are sowed as the germ, Ach- 
 eKenat Kanet will not bring forth roses !" 
 
 " If I may save a life that is in danger, then 
 give me a hint when and where I must step 
 forth," said Lorenzo, when the priestess ceased 
 to speak. 
 
 " Thou shalt stand forth in thy nation, as a 
 wayfarer on the bloodstained field of the pre- 
 t>pnt. Thou must testify of Ach-eKenat Kanet, 
 the only God, and convey to thy people the 
 
 legacy of the friend from who=ie grave thou 
 comest ! As to the danger of those whom 1 
 have pointed out, thou knowest thyself that 
 their lives, like them, belong to your nation, 
 and what Ach-eKenat Kanet has determined for 
 the deliverance of thy friends, will he done 
 through a being from whom you do not expect 
 it. The forms of my dream float around me — 
 I may not disclose it to thee — but I see a ship, as 
 it were, sailing over the ocean, and 1 see the 
 danger upon the ship — and two small vessels are 
 near the large one for safety and protection. 
 Whatever may take place — and whatever shall 
 happen to thee — know and feel, in thy last hour, 
 that thou shalt live after death where the spirit 
 of Ach-eKenat Kanet will shine around thee! 
 Rely on him, and live here on earth for thy 
 nation !" 
 
 Lorenzo heard this effusion of the singular 
 being with more tranquillity and patience than 
 perhaps many friendly or unfriendly readers will 
 receive it with, who, as Catholic or Protestant, 
 will declare many assertions to be " evident blas- 
 phemy," which we, however, can overlook in a 
 half savage Patagonian, from whom, indeed, 
 little else was to be expected. 
 
 As concerns the dark intimations from the 
 realms of second sight, we shall see their im- 
 port in the progress of the story, and can oiily, 
 in this place, give the assurance, that we have 
 met with facts of this kind in our personal ex- 
 perience, which are far more decided than these, 
 and whose accomplishment could he confirmed 
 by many witnesses. 
 
 The last glimmering of the evening red had 
 long since vanished below the horizon, and the 
 cloudless sky was by degrees sown with stars. 
 
 Like a glowing ball, whose circle was a little 
 indistinct on one side, the moon ascended above 
 the dusky line of the horizon, rising higher and 
 higher, and looked sadly down in the same night 
 
 upon Yana Kirym and Lorenzo upon the 
 
 ruins of the grinipeiro village in the interior of 
 
 Brazil upon the villa of the young lady on 
 
 da Gloria, who fired the pistol aiul upon tlie 
 
 Swedish brig Nordstjernan, as Hahakljuk Daily 
 left her in the character of an English oliicer. 
 
 Single fires of the domestic " vestals" of Pat- 
 agonia, (which they maintained through the 
 night for the prosaic purpose of having them 
 ready to prepare the breakfast in the morning 
 without tlie trouble of rekindling,) smoked and 
 blazed here and there, for there was no thunder 
 cloud in the sky, and no pampero was to be 
 feared, that would drive the destructive element 
 amongst the dry hides of the toldos. Loren/.o 
 sit, self-absorbed, beside tiie strange being, who 
 had not spoken a word after the above close of 
 her singular discourse. 
 
 The friend of Alphonso at length arose, and 
 pressed the hand of the old woman. She pointed 
 in the direction ef the toldos where his compan- 
 ions had remained, and then directing her gaze 
 upwiu'd at the stars, continued seated under the 
 trees, while Lorenzo followed her intimation, 
 and slowly withdrew. 
 
 He found his companions, with the cacique 
 and his son Oregham, reclining, in a semicircle, 
 upon buflalo skins before his toldo, smoking 
 cigarettes, and near them the aromatic cha 
 de matte, to which they gave him a friendly
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 invitation, without alluding to the cause of hia 
 absence. 
 
 Nnt far from the group sat an old Inake, dili- 
 gently employed m finishins a pair of national 
 boots, or leather stockings, for the white guest 
 whom the fncnd from the seashore had brought 
 to them; they were Ihe shank skins of a hnr'se 
 stnppeaoffin the aforesaid manner, macerated 
 with salt and wood ashes, scraped bare on a 
 board, and tiien dried ; and the old man was just 
 men busied in rubbing them supijle with dry 
 ashes and sand. •' 
 
 The little maiden, whom we saw beside the 
 cacique, at work embroidering the border of the 
 inexpressibles" which she designed for the 
 -ilrangor, had completed her masterpiece, and 
 liad likewise secretly placed it in his toldo 
 
 The projected journey of the three guests was 
 comfortably talked over, and the old El Rojn 
 and his son, prince Orcgham, begged Lorenzo to 
 consider the nationai costume which bad served 
 Ji.m on Ins ll.;f;ht, as an iusi-vnificatif present on 
 their part, without denying him the satisfaction 
 yvhich be requested, ot leaving behind some ob- 
 ject or other, as a memorial of his arrival under 
 ttieir hospitable protection. 
 
 After Signore Testa had related much to his 
 old friend, concerning the chief of the gauchos, 
 Vr , T-^i °^ extermination against Monte 
 
 V ideo, ana of the excitement in all South Ameri- 
 ca tor the establishment of a rational central 
 government they all wished each other good 
 night, and betook themselves to their toldos 
 
 Early on the next morning the whole Inaken 
 tribe was in motion, to give aYarewell greeting to 
 the three white men. Old and young; and great 
 and small, endeavored to make them understand 
 their hearty wishes for a prosperous journey 
 
 Vala Liini appeared, to repeat in person her 
 thanks to the stranger from the seashore, that 
 he had taken such good care of her beloved 
 Oregham when far away, and brought him back 
 salely to their toldos again. 
 
 The three white men mounted their horses 
 accompanied by Oregham and some hundred 
 Inaken of both sexes, forming a picturesque ca- 
 valcade, as an escort halfway to the next settle- 
 ment, of a tribe of Puelches. 
 
 There the travellers changed their horses, 
 leaving their own behind, without debatins long 
 over the diiference in value, which would not 
 have amounted to a dollar in money at the ut- 
 most— a convenient mode of travelling in PataL'o- 
 nia,which will hardly subsist long after European 
 civilization" shall have been introduced there 
 towards the evening of the second day, Lo- 
 renzo found himself on board the JVIazzini, in 
 Barigaldis brotherly society, who immediatly 
 made preparations to get under sail, and directed 
 his course towards the coast of Rio Grande 
 
 £11 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 rORTUNATE BUSINESS. 
 
 Until now, we have moved in a unitv of 
 time, from the first appearance of Lorenzo, "as a 
 Benedictine monk, in the prison ediace at 
 
 Buenos Ayres, until his embarkation in Palaeo- 
 nian costume on board the Mazzini, in the Bay 
 of .S . Matthias. All that has occurred within 
 the limits ol our relation, is included in the 
 same time. 
 
 The sybi! of the Inaken intimated a crisis ia / 
 the VATE of many of the principal persons 
 whose position in human society we have Irora 
 the fii-st sought to investigate. We hasten to 
 concentrate, in a short retrospect, what occurred 
 ;n the widely extended circle of our characters, 
 and more or less, brought on the crisis, which 
 (without any prophecy of Yana Kyrim) must 
 proceea. sooner or later, from the various ele- 
 ments of the social world in which they move 
 According to the Bible, in which we are told 
 that ■' the last shall be first," and with a recog- 
 nition of the insuperable distance which sepa- 
 rates men from each other in their social po- 
 sition, we would gladly begin our retrospect 
 with Pat Gentleboy, Achilles, or Corinna, if 
 their relations were not in just as natural a so- 
 cial sequence, dependant on the fate of others, 
 whom we must necessarily first touch upon 
 
 Notwithstanding this, we .shall still begin " be- 
 low, and first observe our Mr. Daily, who now 
 called himself Mr. James John .Stone. Dressed 
 like a gentleman, he announced himself on the 
 day of Ins arrival in Rio at the counting-room of 
 his " house," which had, of course, an entrance in 
 Rio, another in Buenos Ayres, and here and 
 there, in the world, concealed private entrances, 
 which were not all knov/n even to himself. He 
 conversed freely with Mr. Thomson on business 
 matters, and alluded to the permission of Mr 
 Walker, of Buenos Ayres, that he should be 
 allowed to make a journey into the interior of 
 the country, " on private business," as soon as 
 the cargo of the Nordtsjernan was discharged, 
 which required his |)resencc as supercargo. 
 
 Mr. Thiunson found "no objection" to the 
 agreement of the clerk with his brother-in-law, 
 and novv learned, that Mr. Daily's father and 
 grandfather lived somewhere in Brazil ; at least 
 Mr. Haoakkuk had received no intelligence of 
 their death. The contemplated journey had, of 
 course, for its object, to inform himself person- 
 ally ol the welfare of his relatives, and besides, 
 to try if be could not obtain an advance on his 
 supposed inheritance, to establish himself some- 
 where. The object of such a journey was recog- 
 nised on both sides as " very reasonable, and very 
 practical," and Mr. Daily took a most cordial 
 leave of the partner of a house to which he had 
 or some years rendered much important service, 
 though it had been oftentimes " quite in private " 
 VVe lind Mr. -Stone, alter some days, in a small 
 private house, in an unpretending street, occu- 
 pied in packing, systematically, a valuable col- 
 lection of superior Chili stones. A quantity of 
 neat little boxes, filled with cotton, lay around 
 him, and he put in order, and fastened up, the 
 rubies, emeralds, sapphires, topazes, etc., which 
 lay in deplorable confusion under the concealed 
 alse bottoms of his two colossal trunks, as he 
 had, until now, had no time to arrange thetn 
 there systematically. There was a knock at the 
 door ; Mr. Daily left the small apartment in 
 which he was busied, slipped into the alcove, ■' 
 kicked the door behind him, and appeared in 
 the corridor of the narrow house, where two 
 persons were seeking admittance.
 
 212 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 "Is that you, Mr. ? what's your came?" 
 
 inquired he of one of the men. 
 
 " Dick Vail, as you will recollect ; and here 
 is the man whose acquaintance you wished to 
 make, the commission merchant, who does a 
 greater business here in Rio, than Dick Vail 
 will ever do in his life !" 
 
 The spokesman was, then, Dick — Dink Vail, 
 the oKl acquaintance of Pat Gentleboy in the 
 English navy, whom we remarked on board the 
 Nordstjernan, on the night Mr. Daily stepped 
 into the sumacca to go on shore. 
 
 Mr. Daily was endowed with that mysterious 
 instinct which so often puts practical men of 
 business on the right track, when they are 
 " looking for somebody o? other" to employ in 
 this or that business. 
 
 The unfortunate intelligence that Mr. Closting 
 was absent, had, as is known, put him in a littte 
 perple.^ity. Mr. Dick Vail had become, from the 
 moment of his entering the strmacca to the arri- 
 val in Rio, his travelling companion and con- 
 ductor. He nad learned to know him as a for- 
 mer boatswain in the British navy, who had 
 " followed his business" on the coast of Brazil, 
 end he did not require the intercourse of two 
 rights and a day, to discover in bins the man 
 whom he just then required. 
 
 Mr. Dick Vail, " first mate" of a smuggling 
 gumacca had sufficient acquaintance in the 
 '* mercantile world " of Rio, and especially in its 
 subordinate classes, to be able to render a service 
 to his countryman, from whose seaman's uni- 
 form the smuggler peeped forth as soon as he 
 felt himself comfortable, among his equals, on 
 board the sumacca The necessity of thestran 
 ger, as a " foreign merchant" from Chili, to find 
 in Rio a creditable commission mei'chani, was 
 in itself so simple and naturnl, that Mr Dick 
 Vail found ** no objection " to bring such a per- 
 flton to his countryman. 
 
 " Come in !" returned Mr. Stone to the above 
 greeting, and led the two friends into a back 
 room of his house, that, like thousands of others 
 in Brazil, appeared built after the selfsame model 
 of the garden-house of Senhoi'a Portuna, whose 
 acquaintance we have yet to make. 
 
 " This man here, who has known me for 
 years," began the third person, as they seated 
 themselves in the armchairs in the back room, 
 " this man has told me about your business, and 
 I am ready to serve yt)U as a commission mer- 
 chant. You can inquire about me all over the 
 eity. I am well known as a business man of 
 honor, and honesty, and credit." 
 
 "The credit is the principal thing!" inter- 
 rupted Mr. Stone, with a smile on his lips. 
 • What is your name .' Where do you live ?" 
 
 " My name is Isaac Schvvpinfurter, and 1 live 
 in the Rua do San Pedro, No. 2^7, just below the 
 Campo de Santa Anna, if you know where that 
 fe I Here is my address." Mr. Stone received 
 the cai'd of the man of business, and appointed 
 him to come to him again on the following morn- 
 fug, and the two men now took their leave. 
 
 Mr. Stone then went out, and arriving at the 
 Hotel Karoux, he gave to one of the butlers a 
 card with the name of the commission merchant 
 in a disguised hand, and requested him to obtain 
 information, if pos:,ible, " where this man lived." 
 He soon learned what he knew already, and be- 
 sides, that Mr. Schweinfurter was a well known 
 
 broker in stones and jewels, who had pf effy gsot 
 credit. Mr. Stone required to know no more. 
 Mr Schweinfurter appeared at. the hour agreed 
 upon, and the "merchant of Chili" handed 
 over to him a considerable business in costly 
 stones. 
 
 Mr. SchvTeinfurter found the quality of the 
 wares superior, and the quantity considerable. 
 He required five per cent, commission on the 
 stipulated price, which he considered reasonable 
 as did Mr. Stone also, for they were both expe- 
 rienced men of business. 
 
 Mr. Schweinfm-ter took with him some sam. 
 pies of the various species, and on the third day 
 received all the boxes of precious stones in re- 
 turn for 1643 pounds sterling ready money, and 
 the business was completed. 
 
 One day, when Mr. .Stone was in the packing 
 room of the Messrs Walker & Co., as usual, Mr. 
 Thomson came and whispered in his ear '. 
 '* Come, by and by, to my room at the count* 
 ing-house, and take a glass of sherry with me ; 
 I have something to show you. You are a con- 
 noisseur in stones. I made a Ijargain yesterday, 
 I can tell you ! A collection of Chili stones 
 such as you hardly ever saw. I paid I'MS 
 pounds sterling, and I'll wager that we make fifty 
 per cent, on it. Mr. Robert assures me that we 
 have just as fine a collection in Buenos Ayres, or 
 on the way to St. Petersburg, that are nearly, if 
 not quite, as brilliant as these ! but I doubt 
 whether we ever made a bargain erf this sort." 
 
 " I doubt it, beforehand," »aid Mr. Daily, 
 smiling. " I will make free to try a glass of sher- 
 ry, thank you kindly, Mr. Thompson. I will 
 give my opinion of the value of tlifc stones. I 
 am rejoiced that you've made such a good bar- 
 gain ! Thank you kindly, Mr. Thomson, tor 
 your reliance upon my opinion." 
 
 Mr. Daily took a glass of sherry in Mr. Thom- 
 son's oiBce, admired the supei'ior preciousstmies, 
 and the peculiarly fortunate bargain of the house 
 of Walker & Co., prepared himself for a jour- 
 ney in the interior of the country, and joined a 
 tropa, destined for the province which his father 
 had inhabited for years. 
 
 To what category a ship captain belongs whea 
 
 on shore, is a peculiar question, since, at the 
 utmost, the merchant invites him to dinner, if he 
 lias made a successful voyage for him, and wished 
 him at sea again as soon as possible, when he 
 has his freight aboard. 
 
 We take it upon our conscience to consider the 
 gallant Captain Finngreen next to the clerk or 
 supercargo, as we must take our leave of him. 
 
 With the elevated consciousness which every 
 noble action leaves behind it in the human heart. 
 Captain Finngreen looked down from the lati- 
 tude of his fortunate arrival in Rio, upon the va- 
 rious degrees of danger which he had escaped 
 with his cabin passengers. 
 
 Indifferent as many passengers remain to thr 
 captain, whom they annoy with the wearisome 
 inquiry, '* When will tlie Vessel arrive in port?" 
 and with their criticisms of the provision chest, 
 etc., Captain Fingreen had become very much 
 attached to his passengers from the river La 
 Plata, of whom some of them evidently had to 
 thank him for their deliverance. 
 
 The Nordstjernan had for years plied between
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 213 
 
 Norfhern Europe and Buenos Ajres, or Rio de 
 Janeiro, and was now freighted for the return 
 voyage up the English Channel. 
 
 Captain Finngreeii did not omit to invite hia 
 friends to a fiuewell dinner on board, and with 
 Hinango, Alvarez, Horatio, and Robert Walker, 
 ajipeared Dr. Thorfin and tlie ever good humored 
 air pump controller of the imperial princesses. 
 
 All sorts of "healths" were drank, and first 
 ** Miss Fanny's" whose incognito remained care- 
 fully preserved ; and next, to the toast : " To tlje 
 freedom of South .America," resounded as loud a 
 viva : " To the unity of Scandinavia as a republic, 
 for the employment of a naval power which she 
 possesses from nature." 
 
 ** May our divided races," cried Captain Finn- 
 gi'een, with glass in hand," recognise their dig- 
 nity and their vocation to do their part as a united 
 nation, with a powerful tleet, towards the deliv- 
 erance of Europe and speak with the cannon's 
 mouth when it shall once break out there — when 
 Russia and England, united, desire to sustaiii the 
 cause of despotism. 
 
 " Scandinavia ! Scandinavia ! ' .Star of the 
 North, break brightly forth :" added he, with 
 animation, and all the Scandinavians joined in, 
 and emptied their glasses with their companions. 
 
 ** England and Russia united !" said Robert, 
 interrupting the ensuing silence, and looking 
 around him with an expression of amazement. 
 " That would be a singular alliance ! the freest 
 nation united with despotism personified !" 
 
 " And nevertheless, the most natural alliance 
 in the world !" asserte<l Hinango *' as you will 
 yoursell perceive, friend Robert, when you weigh 
 the positifm of England and Russia. Both states 
 are only strong and great at the expense of free- 
 dom, through the slavery and subjugation of 
 other nations and their own people." 
 
 " What .'" interrupted the young Briton, "do 
 you then assert thai the freest nation in Europe 
 we English, are subjugated ?" 
 
 " Your pardon, my good friend Robert, I do 
 most distinctly assert it. Your people are not 
 only under the escutcheons and yard sticks of 
 your aristocrats and tradesmen or manufacturers, 
 but lie in deeper wretchedness than the Rus- 
 sians. The Russian serf is at least clothed and 
 fed. In England, the poor are, from childhood, 
 systematically crippled in manufactories, or 
 starve iii the streets or almshouses, notwithstand- 
 ing all the ' philanthrophy ' and all the ' piety ' 
 of your highef classes." 
 
 Robert appeared at a loss to refute this, and 
 observed that a great proportion of his country- 
 men were aware of these facts, and were striving 
 for a change. 
 
 " I am far from denying that," replied the 
 Scandinavian ; " I never confound the misfor- 
 tunes of a nation with the pi-inciples of the gov- 
 ermnent that represents the people, but these 
 governing princijjies of Great Britain are closely 
 united with the absolutism of Russia ; and when 
 the people of Europe shall one day arise to strug- 
 gle for their freedom and independence, these 
 two powers will stand opposed, for life or death, 
 against the cause of mankind !" 
 
 " As cabinets-:-it may he ! 1 will grant that," 
 rejoined Robert, with a certain decision of man- 
 ner peculiar to him, " but not tlie British na- 
 tion ! There is in our people too much straight- 
 fcrvvaxd perceptjoa of right and wrong, for them 
 
 to be blinded at such a crisis ; they have been 
 hitherto led by the nose, perhaps. I must admit 
 that we have, until now, falsely understood and 
 falsely recognised the principle of freedom, but 
 I will not relinquish the belief in my nation !" 
 
 " Bravo I" cried Dr. Thorfin ; " in you speaks 
 the noble Briton of a rising generation ! Here's 
 to the future of the British nation !" added he, 
 and raised his glass: "The young Britannia of 
 Ihe future, in the S|>irit of humanity '." 
 
 All shared Ihe faith of the young Briton, and 
 the hope of the Scandinavian, and emptied their 
 glasses, while Hinango heartily pressed the hand 
 of the gallant youth. 
 
 Robert began, with a voice of youthful strength, 
 the wondefully impressive melody of his na- 
 tive hymn : 
 
 " Rule Britannia'. Britannia rule the waves I" 
 
 and those who knew the words joined in festively 
 with him. 
 
 The Scandinavians then sang their national 
 hymn, whose first lines Captain Finngreen hail 
 recited; and the powerful baritone of .Mvarex 
 accompanied the soft tenor of Horatio in their 
 South American hymn of curse : 
 
 " Ttie waves of La Plata arc beating 
 
 On tlie shore — and with horrors they're gone — " etc 
 
 The therittometer of the astronomer's gaiety 
 rose with every every glass, until it reached the 
 temperature of extravagance, and as a comical 
 interlude to the serious vocal entertainment, he 
 sang, with true devotion, his well known favorite 
 song : 
 
 " Ng general has such powerful might — " etc., etc 
 
 At last a " prosperous voyage" was drank to 
 Captain Finngreen, who was preparing to go to 
 sea again in a few days after this heai'ty leave- 
 taking from his friends. 
 
 - -r^^-nf^^t-f i 
 
 a.#.*rf^^ww— 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE POWER OF -ATTORNEY FROM GOA. 
 
 Senok Alvarez ought properly to have stood 
 below Mr. Daily, and according to the above 
 designated system of classification from below 
 upward, ought to be named next to Achilles, fol 
 he was only a t\pe setter and besides a music. 
 teacher, a twofold very subordinate quality in 
 the scale of the social world of British civiliza- 
 tion. Properly Alvarez, as type setter and music 
 teacher, did not belong at all to " the social 
 world," according to British notions. 
 
 Every talent, let it show itself in whatever 
 province of art it may, belonj^.'i very naturally in 
 the subordinate class of all other " serviceable 
 agencies," and compromises the man who has the 
 misfortune to be endowed with it, if he has not, 
 at the same time, a considerable property at his 
 command, through which he obtains admittance 
 into the social world and masks his talent. 
 
 Senor Alvarez had announced the resolution, 
 to seek immediately lor a place as type setter, 
 wheieupon Dr. Thorfin met him with the pro- 
 position, to procure him some pupiis for tb«
 
 314 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 guitar, which would not be difficult in Rio de 
 
 Janeiro. • . , . i » 
 
 Apart from the national or provincial talent 
 for music, as for example in the province of St. 
 Vaolo, the predilection for musica! entertain- 
 ment (especially on stnai;ed ins'rumentrf) is 
 unmistakable in tlie treat cities of Krizil. 
 
 In-struction in music is there a part of the sys- 
 tem of education, which, like the whole of social 
 life generallv in South .America, wavers (like 
 Hercules at tlie cross-roads) between British fasii- 
 ion and French intellect, more, however, inclin- 
 ini? to the latter, where peculiar cases of absolute 
 paucity of intellect do not recosnise for them- 
 selves the cultivation of a finishing school of Bri- 
 tish dullness as more suitable and comfortable. 
 
 Alvarez gave lessons on the guitar in ditferent 
 families of difl'erent nations, and was, amon? 
 Brazilians and strangers from the European con- 
 tinent, considered with peculiar respect and 
 sympathv, as a " political refugee," who endea- 
 vored to lighten l>is existence in exile by his dis- 
 tinguished talent. On the other hand, amongst 
 the Britons, with whom he became acquainted 
 through Mr. Thomson's "patronage," he was 
 treated as a " teacher," who gave instructions for 
 a stipulated price, as the footman cleaned the 
 boots for stipulated monthly wages. 
 
 In the transatlantic world of British civiliza- 
 tion, the teacher, in any department whatever 
 of science or learning, appears to belong, not 
 even to the category of footmen, but to that of 
 negro slaves, as Senor Alvarez learned, in the 
 most characteristic manner, at an English aca- 
 demy in Rio. He presented himself there, one 
 day,"in the garb of a gentleman, and handed to 
 the principal of the establishment (formerly a 
 ship carpenter) a letter of recommendation 
 from Mr. Thomson. Hardly had he read the 
 contents of the letter, than he declared, with 
 businesslike despatch : ,. , . 
 
 " I am very thankful to Mr. Thomson for this 
 recommendation, but I cannot use it. I am just 
 about selling my academy, with the entire in- 
 ventory, tables, and chairs, and benches, instru- 
 ments and books, and teachers of all sorts— my 
 guitar teacher amongst the rest. I am sorry- 
 very sorry ; pardon me — I am just now very 
 
 busy " 
 
 Notwithstanding this summary dismissal, as 
 the saleable slave of a ship carpenter, who had 
 established a finishing school for young ladies, 
 the good Alvarez by no means wanted for con- 
 genial employment, while he occupied his room 
 in the chacara of Dr. Thorfin, and passed Ins 
 leisure hours there with the latter and Horatio. 
 
 Horatio, likewise in the estimation of the 
 British civilized world "only an artust," and 
 of course below zero in the scale of British re- 
 siiectability, visited the Academy of Arts,* where 
 the cuUccfion was certainly not of particular 
 
 * Thi' institution was foumled in Rio by a resolution 
 of the Brazilian Chnmber of Drtputies. Thu rpquisile 
 professors in tlic various dcpanmcnts wore writli-n lor 
 to Paris ant\ estal.lisho.l as State functionaries. The 
 edifice of the acaderoy, in the neighbourhood of the 
 Lar^o do Francesco de I'aolo, was erected for tins espe- 
 ciafotyect. It contains the necessary collection of 
 Blaster casts from the best known antique statues and 
 busts, and a picture gallery of ancient and modern 
 Blasters whicli will he increased according to ability. 
 Tho worthy director of the academy at that time was 
 Mr Taunay, brother of the French Consul t,eneral m 
 K.U 
 
 value. But in itself the academy repre^entea 
 an intellectual authority, which, accnrdim; to 
 the notions of British civilization, is not exactly 
 
 directiv " useful." 
 
 The' nephew of Alphonsn lived in ihe se- 
 cluded intellectual world which all true t.ile-it 
 forms around itself, and out of which, also, it 
 contemplates life from a hiirher point of view. 
 
 Serious and melancholy hy nature, the events 
 which he had of late encountered were by no 
 means calculated to increase his snirits. The 
 peculiar circumstance, however, that he was 
 entirely cut off from all intercourse with the 
 friend of his uncle, whom he had accompanied 
 in exile, added little alleviation to the sufreringa 
 which he experienced at the remembrance of 
 his home. 
 
 As related to these sufferings, a well meant, 
 friendlv counsel was imparted to him on his first 
 arrival' in Rio, " to drive them out of his head, 
 and this counsel came from the jovial month of 
 Mr. George Thomson, his banker. 
 
 " You have saved a pretty property," observed 
 Mr. Thomson, as Horatio sat with him in his 
 office, receiving the amount of a bill of ex- 
 change, " be reasonable, and drive fmm your 
 head"the fantasies of freedom, and fatherland ; 
 and the like ; and, if 1 may advise you, throw 
 your painting stufT aside ! A young man, like 
 you, with such a capital, should give up the 
 "pencil. I cannot conceive what sort of civiliza- 
 tion exists in Buenos Avres, when your rela- 
 tions could allow you to employ yourself in such 
 a manner. You must perceive, Senhor P-— » 
 that I mean well to vou. You are commended to 
 my care by Mr. Walker, and 1 am, so to say, res- 
 ponsible for vou here— for your career and your 
 prosperity. "l beg you to consider \yhat sort 
 of career lies before" you— for prosperity is out 
 of the question! If, instead of painting, you 
 would take up statuarv, a business might always 
 be established, with marble, and sandstone, and 
 the like ! Applv vourself to sculpture. Set up 
 a statuarv estal.iis"hment fiir gravestones, door- 
 sills, and" the like saleable articles ! Huy a dozen 
 negroes, and I will send out to England lor a 
 machine to saw marble, and apply yonrsclt to 
 the practical part of sculpture.^ Deliver solid 
 wares, even if required fnim Carrara marble. 
 Let all the sawins l« done hy neuToes, and keep 
 up your respectabilitv. Do not pot your hand 
 to a'nv thing except iii your olhce. Keep an able 
 foreman, who understands the pi-actical business, 
 that is requisite for such an e.stablishment, until 
 you acquire the necess-iry knowledge to distin- 
 "guish Carrara marble from Brazilian griniti-. 1 
 can tell you, that with your capital, ynu would 
 be a made man here ! l" advise you as a friend. 
 What the devil will you do with the pencil' 
 In the first place, you must do all the painting 
 vourself, for vou cannot have portraits and the 
 like made by" negroes, at least, not so easily as 
 squares of m:irble for floors ; and you know that 
 such handwork as painting injures your respect- 
 abilitv, and will entirely undermine it. You 
 are, and will always remain, ' only an artist," and 
 if your pictures should even be adinitte<i into a 
 salon, people will not admit you there, as you 
 must know '." . t> t 
 
 The youth would have replied to tho tinton, 
 that in "Buenos .'^yres, as in Rio, another standant 
 1 prevailed in relation to talent and human vfOjtJk 
 
 i
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 215 
 
 thnn pCTliapg in England ; bvit he had hardly ut- 
 tered a word, when Mr. Thomson interrupted 
 him. 
 
 " What is your fashionable world in South 
 Ainorica, my good Renhor Horatio ? How can you 
 compare that with our English respectability.' 
 Pardon me, but I mean well by you ! Even 
 
 if even if, in this semi-barbarism, among 
 
 Spaniards, and Portuguese, and Frenchmen, and 
 the like — even if a painter, or musician, or a 
 te.icher of languages, or even a mechanic, finds 
 admittance into some house or other, let me 
 ask, what sort of a house is it ? Perhaps the 
 gentleman, as he calls himself, was formerly 
 nothing else but a tf acher, or artist, or even a 
 mechanic; and besides, and in all cases, he is a 
 foreigner ! for even an Englishman, in his case, 
 who, as a parvenu establishes a so called respec- 
 table bouse, would admit no artist or teacher to 
 his salon, that he might not expose himself to 
 the embarrassment of having him seen there 
 by some gentleman whose portrait he had 
 jiainted, or whose daughter he had instructed 
 
 oil the piano. My good .Senhor P , think 
 
 where you are working with your pencil ! 
 
 You are working yourself down into the base- 
 ment, info the society of the footman, who 
 places tbe money in your hand for your por- 
 traits, or your lesson in drawing. You must at 
 length receive money for your handwork ; and 
 the gentleman who sends the pay to you, will be 
 little apt to inquire whether you are descended 
 from an old Spanish family or not ! You are, 
 and will remain, ' an artist,' and there's an end 
 of it; and it gives me pain, witii your capital — ■ 
 it migbt bo turned to something belter." 
 
 One day, as Horatio sat in one of the cool apart- 
 ments of the Academy of Arts, and worked at a 
 drawing after the head of Niobe, .Alvarez stood 
 near him, having come to take him to dinner. 
 Horatio was just giving an account of his inter- 
 esting interview with Mr. Thomson, about the 
 position of an artist, and tbe respectability of 
 a stone cutler or a marble merchant, at least in 
 the English mercantile world, when a wliite 
 servant, in blue livery, with gold buttons, ac- 
 companied by a porter of the academy, entered 
 the room. 
 
 " That is Senhor P ," said the porter, in a 
 
 respectful low tone to the white footman, who 
 drew a billet from his pocket, and handed it to 
 the nephew of Aipbonso, with the words: "From 
 Senhor Vera, Rua do Valongo." 
 
 I5olh recognised, at the first glance, the ser- 
 vant of the interesting negro from Goa, and 
 looked inquiringly at each other, while Horatio 
 opened the billet. 
 
 " My compliments to Senhor Vera," said he, 
 turnins to the negro, '■ 1 will take the liberty to 
 make my visit to-morrow about eleven o'clock." 
 
 The footman withdrew, attended by the por-. 
 ter wiio had conducted him in. 
 
 Hori'tio imparted to his friend the contents of 
 the billet. It was a polite invitation from Sen- 
 hor Bernardo Vera, from Goa, that he would do 
 him the honor of calling upon him, since he de- 
 sired to consult with him as a friend of art, about 
 a picture. Both suspected that the consultation 
 ibout a picture might be only a prctoiice, to enter 
 into c( mmunication with Horatio, in conse- 
 ijuence of the impression that the portrait of Ihe 
 
 mother of Dolores had wrought upon the Ethi 
 opian. 
 
 " Go with me to-morrow !" said Horatio to his 
 friend, to whom the solution of the riddle might 
 not be less important than to the other, inso- 
 much as the family name of his mother, on 
 board the Nordstjernan, had wrought just as 
 singular an impression upon Dolores. 
 
 *' 1 will introduce you as my friend, who like- 
 wise possesses judgement in the arts," said Hora- 
 tio, " and perhaps your acquaintance is of more 
 importance to him than mine, a suspicion which 
 the name of your uncle, who disappeared, inspires 
 me with." 
 
 " Certainly !" remarked Alvarez, " it seems to 
 me, myself, as if light might dawn upon rae, 
 according to all that has hitherto appeared pos- 
 sible to me." 
 
 The two sons of Apollo went on the following 
 day, at eleven o'clock, to the before mentioned 
 palace, and were led by the same servant into a 
 salon, furnished in the old fashioned style of 
 European luxury of the last century, like similar 
 buildings of the sort in Rio. 
 
 After some moments, Senhor Vera appeared, 
 the same negro whom they had seen before the 
 picture in the packing room of the alfandega. 
 He received the two friends with the suitable 
 demeanor of a man of the world, greeted Ihem in 
 Spanish with a Portuguese accent, and especially 
 fastened his penetrating glance on Alvarez, 
 whose countenance, as it seemed, he had not ob- 
 served in the alfandega, from pure absorption in 
 the contemplation of t.iie picture. 
 
 Senhor Vera evidently spoke with a perturbed 
 breast, and seemed not to find the words that he 
 sought, for the opening of his subject. 
 
 " Your countenance sir," said he, after a short 
 introduction, " assures me beforehand that I 
 have not deceived myself in my hopes. Will you 
 have the goodness to go with me now to my room, 
 and look at a picture." 
 
 The two friends walked on before the negro, 
 and soon stood with him in his study ; at least 
 the room rather resembled the library of a savant 
 than the counting-room of a merchant. 
 
 Senhor Vera drew aside the green curtain that 
 covered a picture, and Horatio and Alvarez 
 started bacliward as they beheld the same por- 
 trait of the mother of Dolores, or at least a dupli- 
 cate painted by the same master, as it had ap- 
 peared in the box at the alfandega. 
 
 " You are then a nephew of Senor Gabriel 
 Garringos .'" said Senhor Vera to the astonished 
 Alvarez; "for your features resemble bis, at 
 they do the portrait of your mother, which I 
 know. And you, if I may inquire ?" added he, 
 turning to Horatio. " You can both of you, gen- 
 tlemen, perhaps give me information concerning 
 the life or death of the lady whose portrait you 
 see here, the du|)licate of which I beheld, not 
 long since, at the alfandega .'" 
 
 " Senora Paula de C is dead," replied 
 
 Horatio, deeply moved by the mystery which 
 still enveloped this encounter. 
 
 "Did she leave children.'" inquired Senlior 
 Vera, hastily. 
 
 " A daughter, named Dolores." 
 
 " Where does she live .'" inquired the negr» 
 with evident anxiety. 
 
 Botii South Americans now fell into (he moat 
 singular perplexity ; they looked at each other
 
 216 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 with the same expression, which im]>lied the 
 duty of preserving, in the strictest manner, the 
 incognito ot Dolores. 
 
 " My God !" exclaimed the negro, " she lives ? 
 and your glance reveals to me that you must con- 
 ceal lier abode from me '. Then she is probably 
 in d.iugcr, perhaps proscribed, like so many 
 otliers, as a participatress in the cause of the 
 Unitarians, Republicans, or Humanitarios !" 
 
 The two friends were silent. Senhor Vera 
 hurried to a writing-desk, took some papers 
 from a concealed drawer, and asked Alvarez, in 
 a decided tone : 
 
 " Pardon me, sir, are you a son of Dona 
 Maria Juana de Garringos, whatever name she 
 miglit have borne after her marriage .'" 
 
 " My name is Alvarez de la Barca ; my mo- 
 ther's name was Maria Juana dc Garringos," re- 
 plied he. 
 
 " Have you sistei-s ?" 
 
 " One sister, Maria Juana Angelica." 
 
 " Where is your sister .'" 
 
 " Unhappily 1 do not know ! she leftCorrien- 
 tes when I went to Europe five years ago ; she 
 went to Bahia, as governess with an Italian 
 family. I have only a short time since returned 
 from Europe. My letters were intercepted in 
 Spain, as 1 took part in the struggle of the na- 
 tion against Don Carlos. I have written to Bahia, 
 and expect an answer daily." 
 
 " According to the station of your sister, I 
 may tlien presume that you do not possess an 
 ample property ?" 
 
 " We are poor," returned Alvarez with dig- 
 nity ; " but Providence gave us talent, and we 
 are independent." 
 
 " The question which I allowed myself," con- 
 tinued the negro, after a pause, " would be in- 
 discreet, if I had not the right to ask it, through 
 this power of attorney, on the part of Seiior Ga- 
 briel Garringos, your uncle in Goa." 
 
 " My uncle Gabriel !" cried Alvarez, in a voice 
 trembling with emotion, " in Goa! Then he is 
 alive? living in Goa.'" 
 
 " He is living as one of the most distinguished 
 physicians in Goa, is a millionaire, and has 
 commissioned me, by this document, to infjuire 
 about his family, and to bring you this intelli- 
 gence, in the case that Seiiora Paula de C 
 
 was not living. In the other case, if the lady 
 whiise picture you see here were si ill in life, it 
 would not have been permitted to me to give 
 you information of the existence of your uncle. 
 The causes which lie at the foundation of these 
 instructions to me, wliich may, perhaps, appear 
 strange to you, rest in the grave of >his worthy 
 lady. As little as we will for the present touch 
 upon a secret which 'rests in tlie grave,'" con- 
 tinued be, " so little will 1 permit myself a ques- 
 tion concerning the fate of this lady's daughter. 
 I desire you, however, to mark well where 1 live, 
 in case .ScIiora Dolores, as you called her, should 
 need the succcu- of a friend, for life or death : for 
 Seiior Gabriel is my bosom friend ; 1 am indebted 
 to him for my intellectual improvement through 
 intercourse with him ; and tlirough my improve- 
 ment, I am indebted to him for the suitable ap- 
 plication of the wealth which my father be- 
 queathed to me. I am commissioned to open 
 an uidimited credit witli the children of this 
 lady, and of the sister of my triend, in whatever 
 circumstances 1 might find them ; that is to say, 
 
 advances in ready money, as an earnest of the 
 inheritance that will one day accrue to them. 
 Take notice, then, of my abode; come and see 
 me soon and often. Communicate this intelli- 
 gence, if possible, to the daughter of the lady 
 whose portrait lias led me to this fortunate dis- 
 covery, whicli I have sought throu.h a corres- 
 pondence with Buenos Ayres. Give her, then, 
 this intelligence, if possible, and," added he to 
 Alvarez, " consider me as the banker of your 
 uncle — and write to him through me. And 
 above all things, procure me intelligence of your 
 sister. I am ready to go to Baliia, to accompany 
 you there, in case you believe that it would be 
 suitable." 
 
 Alvarez was too much surprised with all he 
 had heard, and with the reality of the portrait 
 that he saw, to be able to talk over, tranquilly, 
 the necessary measures. 
 
 The negro handed him a duplicate of his 
 uncle's power of attorney, dated from Goa, and 
 added : " Only through this pictm-e, or through 
 its duplicate, was information to be obtained 
 concerning the life or death of this lady, with- 
 out betraying Seiior Gabriel's incognito, which 
 he wished to maintain strictly, so long as Seiiora 
 Paula lived." 
 
 The two friends comprehended this, and un- 
 derstood all tile sooner the necessity lor the 
 transportation of the picture, which, more than 
 any written document, confirmed the commission 
 of the Spaniard, who, even in Goa, lived under 
 another name. 
 
 The negro repeated his urgent wish to find an 
 oppportunity, as soon as possible, of fulfilling, at 
 least in part, the especial commission of his 
 friend in relation to his property; and Horatio 
 and Alvarez withdrew for the present. 
 
 — '**^^*v^r a 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE TWO PAVIUONS. 
 
 Robert Walker had taken possession of the 
 pavilion in the garden of Madame Closting, and 
 passed the greater part of his time there, as he 
 was only occujiied in his counting-house from 
 ten in the morning until two in the afternoon. 
 
 The exchange and alfandega were closed at 
 this hour, and tlie mercantile people then either 
 betook themselves to their chacaras, or to their 
 several dwellings in the bosom of their families ; 
 and those who had not the good fortune to be 
 married, either went to dine at a hotel, or, as 
 bachelors, passed their time in some way or 
 other, with or without a friend. 
 
 Most of the commercial houses kept, besides 
 their chacaras, particular family tables for the 
 clerks and |)artners, as we have seen in the case 
 of Messrs. Rossbriick & Co., and a repast sel- 
 dom went off without guests, since X some- 
 times ate with Z, while Z, without the fearol 
 compromising himself, seated himself at table 
 with the clerks of the friendly house of X, and 
 partook of the roast meat. 
 
 Excepting tlie regular visits to his uncle in 
 Bota Eogo, and to Dr. Thorfin and his fellow 
 voyagers of the Nordstjernan, v\hich he repeated
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 217 
 
 several times in the week, Mr. Robert Walker 
 was seldom seen anywhere in society, or as 
 above named, as a self-invited guest. From a 
 dislike to the confusion at the Hotel Faroux, he 
 had made the arransrement to enjoy his dinner 
 quietly and comfortably in the company of his 
 hostess, and the little creature " whom she 
 wished to pass for her dau-ihter." Accordinfj; to 
 English custum, he drank his tea late in the even- 
 ing, and in the morninj; his Brazilian coffee, 
 alone, in his jjavilion. 
 
 He had, a long time before, studied the German 
 language, and now, since his acquaintance with 
 Hinungo and Dr. Thorfin, pursued, with a like 
 zeal, the study of the Swedish and Danish lan- 
 guages, the rich literature of which excited a 
 particular interest in him. 
 
 He lived in this manner in tran(]uil retirement, 
 in social intercourse witli tile young lady, wlio 
 had found in him a friend and protector, and felt 
 himself more than ever attaciied to the forte 
 piano, since he practised four-handed composi- 
 tions with her, an innocent entertainment, that 
 no police mandate prohibited. 
 
 Hubert liad not only developed to practical 
 readiness a decided talent for music, but enclosed 
 witliin the depths of his soul that " sounding 
 board of sentiment," (as he had on one occasion 
 expressed himself,) on which all tlie tones of art 
 and nature reverberated in their mysterious 
 purity, as harmony of the soul in its spiritual 
 element. 
 
 This inward feeling in him resembled a dia- 
 mond, whose solution had been attempted in all 
 metliods, by the chemical matter of education, 
 and, to Aunt Susan's groat indignation, without 
 success. In whatever fold of the heart this dia- 
 mond, the sense of the beautiful, had concealed 
 itself, it had remained uninjured, and more than 
 ever asserted its moral worth, since the undeni- 
 able crisis in the life of the noble youth, at his 
 arrival in Rio, as friend and protector of the 
 exiled poetess from La Plata river. 
 
 Robert's inclination for music would perhaps 
 not have developed itself in so great a degree, if 
 (as we have already intimated) it had not been 
 stimulated by Aunt Susan. 
 
 Miss Thomson, who had had the boy under her 
 superintendence for years, in consequence of her 
 sectarian si>irit decl.ired all music to be a sinful 
 propensity to worldly dissijiation, and strictly 
 prohibited liim tvnni musical exercises. 
 
 It happened with the boy, as with so many 
 men, who often fust experience the worth of 
 freedom througli despotic restrictions, and feel 
 the moral force within them the more power- 
 fully, the more strictly it is repressed. 
 
 The less the buy was able, according to his 
 youthful perceptions, to recognise the practising 
 of music as sinful and depraved, and cursed be- 
 fore (jod, the ottener did he slip away to his 
 music master, and linger at the piano forte for 
 hours. 
 
 After Aunt Susan's departure from Buenos 
 Ayres, he became his own master in the above 
 respect, since his father, with whose religious 
 views we are acquainted, gave himself little 
 trouble about it, whether Robert played the 
 piano or cards, if his teachers were satisfied 
 with him, who were to form him into a capable 
 business man. 
 
 Kobert had never found his undeniable ex- 
 28 
 
 pcrtness on the piano gn entertaining, as in ac- 
 coni'ianying the favourite compositions of his 
 pretty, and truly amiable hostess, who, on her 
 part, quite unaccountably to herself, had never 
 before moved her little fingers over the keys 
 with such readiness, as when she accompanied 
 the young Englishman. !t only happened occa- 
 sionally, that she suddenly, and certainly in the 
 least dilTicnlf passages, made a mistake, oi 
 missed the time, and then, involuntarily, partly 
 in apologetic civility, her glance was turned 
 sideways upon her friend, either to excuse tlie 
 mistake, or to ask his indulgence 
 
 The empire of tone on the pdanet Saturn, may 
 be, as Ilinango afiirms, of an extension and eleva- 
 tion of which we poor mortals on the earlh are 
 not able to form a conception ; but riiusic has 
 ever appeared to us incontestably powerful, even 
 on earth, as a medium for the expression of sen- 
 timent and thought ; and the fragmentary inti- 
 mation of the Scandinavian " enthusiast" may, 
 perhaps, have for itself some ground of pro- 
 bability. 
 
 In this instance, it was remarkable that the 
 musical pair, in the comparison and selection of 
 the ancient and modern compositi(ms of their 
 united musical store, discovered a singular ac- 
 cordance in the character and spirit of the com- 
 positions — a coincidence of taste and judgement 
 in art, vrhich proved an undeniable affinity of 
 mind, as well as an intimate communion of soul. 
 The musical portfolios of both, contained in 
 preference, masterpieces of serious and pro- 
 foundly sentimental composition, -in opposition 
 to the superficial and often characterless mixture 
 of stolen fragments, " put together," and com- 
 bined into an allegro, which are liked in so 
 many families, under the pretext, that " life is 
 serious enough, and, of all things in the world, 
 peo[>le must not hear any thing serious or moura- 
 iul upon an instrument !" 
 
 Whether Mr. Robert's piano was of better qual- 
 ity, or more conveniently situated fur two stools, 
 or the daylight coming through less foliage was 
 brighter at his window, or the glass cylinders to 
 his w,ix lights were cleaner than all these things 
 appeared in the apartment of Senhora Gracia, 
 she had, all at once, experienced a particular 
 preference for Mr. Robert's piano ; and as it was 
 dilhcult to move, and there was no better place 
 lor it in her villa, the instrument remained 
 where it was, and Senhora Gracia often remained 
 by Seiibor Riiberio, upon his comfortable chair, 
 long alter they had ceased pl.iying their four- 
 handed compositions. 
 
 This confiding unreserve, which (according to 
 the observations of so many travellers) forms a 
 part of the character of the Brazilian women, 
 and manilesLs itself in their natural naivete in 
 social intercourse, operated with magic power 
 u|)on the stranger youth. Being endowed by 
 nature with similar unreserve, in a few weeks 
 he felt himself as if at home with the young 
 lady, whose circumstances he never allowed 
 himself to touch upon, as he re.spected her 
 secret. 
 
 When Robert came home, he regularly found 
 the traces of a careful disposing hand, which 
 arranged the smallest trifles lor his accommoda- 
 tion : the vases on the pier table filled with 
 lre.sh flowers j the blinds closed on the sunny
 
 218 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 Bidp, and the sTi uled windows opened ; in short, 
 all the pro|>ir itinns for his return; and, occa- 
 sionally, ;i pj'iiliirly delicate flower left upon 
 tlie Iceys of t!i:; |ii,i'io, as if in fori,'etfntnes3. 
 
 The windows of the sitting-room-f in the two 
 pavilions, whose insii^nificant distance from eacii 
 otlier we liave before intimated, casu lUy affn-dcil 
 a jn'ospect (or rather iiisi2;ht) into each other, 
 besides wliich, they comm m(ie<l a view of the 
 Bay and the giijantic Or;;an Monntains. The 
 Brazilian sun regularly took its course, from east 
 to West, through the northern hemisphere, and 
 shone upon t!ie two pavilions, towards evenin2^, 
 in such a direction that Senhora Gracia's win- 
 dow, where, as it seemed, was her favorite sent, 
 happened to be envelojjed in shade, and of course 
 could remain open unhindered. On the other 
 hand, the window at which stood the writin;;- 
 deslv of her neighbor was partly covered by some 
 bananas, .vhose fanlilce crowns first commenced 
 at a heii^ht not reached by Senhor Roberto's 
 forehead when he sat at his usual place at home. 
 
 Senliora Gracia occupied herself with the art 
 of making flowers from the feathers of parrots 
 and " colibris," and many other birds; an art 
 which (as we shall soon know) she had acquired 
 wlien a child amongst tlie nuns, and had since 
 then often turned to the lightening of her solitary 
 existence. 
 
 She worlied from sunrise until Robert came to 
 
 they do not grow at all d\iri'na' the day. To 
 convince himself of this, Roliert daily bent tlio 
 ■io called tube-loaf, which developed itself from 
 the chalice of the crown, against the wall, by 
 ■neinsofacane of snUcient length, and scratched 
 1 mirk with the same cane. It was the Bra- 
 '.ilian spring, it w.is quasi May, in (Juenabara, 
 md .Senhora Gracia appeared to delight, with pe- 
 culiar U)ve, in the wonderful richness of n.iture. 
 A mysteriously powerful force of nature seemed 
 to spread itself through her being, with simil irly 
 speedy development; a sentiment of the joy 
 und happiness of existence unfolded itself in 
 her, as the chalice leaf of the young b mana 
 struggled upward from night to night — heiven- 
 wards — starwards — up to tlie ethereally clear 
 zenith, which was touched by an arm of the 
 milky-way, whose myriad stars our human eyes 
 only know by hearsay. 
 
 Shall we explain it to ourselves by the child- 
 ish love of a pure female heart fir the wonder- 
 fully rich mysterious nature, that Seahora (Jraeia 
 at times suddenly rose from her work and ran to 
 the young tree, merely to see whether it did not 
 indeed grow in the day time ? And shall we 
 count it amongst the thousands and thousands o( 
 insignificantaccidents, that she must pass direct- 
 ly by Robert's door, to arrive at the sun-avoiding 
 and starlight-loving banana, not to mention that 
 the doors of chacaras or pavilions in Brazil stand 
 
 dinner, and often employed the remaining hours : open the whole day .' .Senhor Roberto concerned 
 until sundown, to complete an unfinished flower, ' himself as inquisitively and scientifically about 
 or to begin the composition of another, accord- | the growing and not growing of the tropical be- 
 ing as she felt inclined. " Senhor Roberto" gene- 1 tanic world a-s Senhora Gracia. If we only put 
 rally seated himself at his writing-desk, as he all these insignificant circumstances and "acci- 
 had the habit, when he was not writing, of read- 'dents together, it will surprise nobody, that they 
 ing there, perhaps because the slanting direction both met, from time to time, under the young ba 
 
 of the desk was particularly convenient for him 
 as a support to his book .' 
 
 A young Brazilian woman is as little able 
 always to make flowers, as a young Englishman 
 is to read or write for ever, without once looking 
 up and around from the flowers, or from the pa- 
 per, whether it be written or printed paper; 
 iliat is a matter decidedly settled, which requires 
 no citations from .Aristotle, or Jesus the son of 
 Sirach, or Lord Chesterfield. 
 
 Heaven knows how it chanced that .Senhor 
 Roberto, almost without exception, encountered 
 
 nana, before Robert's door, and the justice of the 
 peace lor the parish of Nossa Senhora da Gloria 
 would not have easily decided whether the 
 young Brazilian lady ibund the young .Senhor 
 luglez, or the young Senhor Inglez found the 
 young Brazilian lady there. Both stood there, 
 and contemplated the young banana, and con- 
 versed about the tropical strength of nature, 
 about the influence of the starry and spheral 
 world upon our earth, and about the disturbing, 
 paralysing ettect of the sun, which extinguished 
 the coals under old Anna's cofiee kettle, if she 
 
 the glance of the lively, inquisitive eyes* of the I did not interpose herself, or some oilier object 
 you.ig Br.izilian lady, whenever, quite casually, 
 he lookeil up from his writing or reading, aiid 
 out of the window. Without further pursuing 
 the queslion how it chanoeil, we will, for the 
 present, take for granted that it was accident — 
 altogether accident, as there are so many thou- 
 sand singular accidents in life, which are cer- 
 tainly not so interesting as this meeting the 
 "ance of the young lady ap|)eared ; at least we 
 
 gl 
 
 that cast a shadow, between. 
 
 Robert's thermometer hung outside of the 
 window at wliich he had his seat. .Senhora 
 Gracia had no thermometer, and appeared like a 
 travelling Briton in Russia, (who would look at 
 the tliermometer to see when it froze him,) just 
 as willing to examine at times if it was hot, or 
 how hot it was, in their neighborhood. To look 
 at the thermometer, she must step to Robert'? 
 infer, that, in case the accident had not appeared ] window, and her little chin just rested, exactly 
 interesting to her, she would probably have convenient, on the sill. 
 
 avoided the encounter of glances. Tliat was only blind chance, just a.s incon- 
 
 By Robart's door stood a ycning banana, close testably as all besides that we have incidentally 
 "'" — ■" Senhora Gracia's attention had I alluded to; and it would be silly and |iedanlic 
 
 to the w.dl. 
 
 been drawn to it by Dr. Thorfin's remark, that 
 the leaves of this colossal plant will often grow 
 from ten to fourteen inches in a night, f while 
 
 ' .\s an Kn^li5li autlior, whom we shall cite fiertafter. 
 C^lls the eyes of tfie wumisn of Braxil. 
 
 f Au cbservatiou that the aathor loiiiij confirmed as a 
 ("net in Brazil, and which belongs to a department of 
 liiitul'at scieace tiiat, cuiiuot hero be treated oi in Q note. 
 
 to take the least notice, in any history what- 
 ever, of such little .iccidental circumstances. 
 But good manners, politeness, the compl.iis.ince 
 of neighborhood, required, imperatively, that 
 Robert should spring up from his seal, and lean 
 out of the window, or on the winiio.v, which 
 Senhora Gracia almost touched with the delicate 
 chin of her delicate little lace, whereupon lie
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 219 
 
 would say a word to her, or she to him; and 
 often one word produced another, and a quarter 
 of an hour was chatted away. 
 
 The thermometer might rise or fall, but with 
 such casual encounters, the " thermometer of 
 mutual confidence" at least rose in nearly equal 
 proportion with the tropically rapid development 
 of the banana and of sentiment. 
 
 An exhaustless material of mutual entertain- 
 ment was afforded by the little lizards, which 
 every evening pursued their youthful sports, 
 pairwise, among themselves, here and tliere, on 
 the white painted walls, seeking to surprise each 
 other, slipping away again, and not tiring, for 
 hours, of showing each other all conceivable 
 marlcs of attention. 
 
 I'his species of little mosquito lizards, belong 
 amongst the prettiest, most delicate, and most 
 amusing little "domestic animals" we could 
 name. The mysterious manner in which they 
 paralyze a mosquito by a glance, and then dart 
 upon and swallow him, fettered the young Eng- 
 lishman, as it does many Europeans in Brazil, for 
 hours, in observation and contemplation. With- 
 out this mysterious power of the glance, a lizard, 
 which cannot fly, would hardly be able to catch 
 a mosquito, that would betake itself to the air at 
 its slightest approach. 
 
 Robert contemplated, with unwearied atten- 
 tion, the adroit movements of the fairylike, deli- 
 icate little animals, running about like flies on 
 the ceiling, as they glided round a mosquito, 
 until they could direct a glance at his head from 
 a distance ; such a " glance in glance" as instant- 
 ly bound the insect, fastened it to the spot, and 
 allowed it to be caught. 
 
 Who will find it remarkable or surprising, that 
 Senhora Gracia partook with Robert, in a neigh- 
 borly manner, of this amusement in the con- 
 templation of nature, especially when the ad- 
 vancing cool of the evening permitted them to 
 remain in the open air ? 
 
 Whom dues it surprise, that by degrees, through 
 80 many chances and little accidents and oppor- 
 tunities, an agreeable relation of neighborly inti- 
 macy grew up between the two, which became 
 more intimate every day, before Robert had yet 
 received any information about the outward re- 
 lations and inward life of his indisputably amia- 
 ble neighbor ? 
 
 The connexion of ideas awakened in Robert, 
 as he mentioned the name of Hinango at his in- 
 troductory visit, and infused into his mind the 
 suspicion that this young lady might he Senhora 
 Closting in person, had by degrees been estab- 
 lished within him to a probability. On the con- 
 trary, the impression that this female made upon 
 him, loudly and forcibly contradicted the tangi- 
 ble reality, that she was the mother of the little 
 creature, or mother and wife at all. 
 
 Senhora Gracia appeared to him a maiden, 
 early developed in a tropical climate, breathed 
 upon by some mysterious soul-suffering, that 
 rather spiritually heightened than physically 
 spoiled her charming bloom. In consequence of 
 all this confusion of ideas, he fell into a maze of 
 the most singular contradiction with himself and 
 the reality, that he would not recognise as such. 
 He was as little able to comprehend the thought 
 that the young lady was the mother of the little 
 girl, as on the other hand to give an account of 
 the degree in which this question generally in- 
 
 terested him, and wherefore it seemed impossi- 
 ble for him to recognise the reality, as such. If 
 the connexion of ideas led him within the limits 
 of the probability in which the young lady ap- 
 peared to him as Madame Closting, he was 
 shocked, and notwithstanding this, was obliged 
 to admit to himself that this young lady would 
 perhaps have remained more distant to him, if he 
 had not surmised in her a being so boundlessly 
 unfortunate as to belong to such a man as Mr. 
 Closting was described to him. He could not 
 even deny that he had all the more carried out 
 his momentary design of entering indirectly into 
 business connexion with Mr. Closting, to give to 
 his friend Hinango, whose sympathy had always 
 been valuable to him, an after proof that he could 
 transact business with the other, without incur- 
 ring the danger which his fellow voyager had 
 quite incidentally indicated, by way of conversa- 
 tion, and more in jest than earnest. 
 
 The expression of inward suffering which Hi- 
 nango had designated, in respect to Madame 
 Closting, spoke incontestibly from the whole 
 being of the young lady, who, as a woman in 
 danger, had made demands on his protection. 
 
 We will not examine whether this expression 
 which presupposed a heart that was capable of 
 suffering, might not originally have more pow- 
 erfully attracted the sensitive youth than even 
 conspicuous beauty, without soul in expression, 
 (and armed with icy coldness against all the 
 impressions of life,) would ever have been able 
 to do. 
 
 The position of Robert as protector of the 
 young lady, who had so confidingly claimed his 
 sympathy, was founded on a coincidence of sin- 
 gular circumstances, which were partly foreign 
 to him, and partly proceeded from his personal 
 relations, without his being able to prevent them. 
 Senhora Gracia had one day revealed to her 
 physician. Dr. Thorfin, that a young English- 
 man, whose uncle had introduced him to her 
 uncle, inhabited the pavilion, and he soon after- 
 wards learned, to his no small astonishment, 
 that this neiglibor was no other than Mr. Robert 
 Walker, the fellow voyager and friend of Hinan- 
 go. Had his patient imparted to him this intel- 
 ligence the day before Robert took possession of 
 this abode, he would probably have taken it on 
 his conscience to break off the contract for the 
 lease under some pretence or other, without 
 casting the least doubt upon the blameless de- 
 portment, or the pure and noble character of the 
 young lady. The physician knew his patient 
 and her sufferings, the cause of them, and their 
 effect upon such a heart as hers. 
 
 To explain Dr. Thorfin's perception of things, 
 we remark, that he would not have entertained 
 a scruple, for example, about quartering the 
 young gentleman, William Rossbriick, in the 
 pavilion, since, according to his psychological 
 judgement, he would have taken upon himself 
 the responsibility, in respect to this young man, 
 that no element of spiritual attraction threatened 
 the young lady with danger, as in the other case 
 he was fully satisfied that there could be no 
 question of any other attraction for his patient, 
 out of the province of inward life. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin had, from personal experience, 
 but too clearly seen the rigid difference of wo- 
 man's position, contrasted with that of man, 
 which the judgement of the world seldom ov
 
 220 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 nevei' consider — we mean, the difference of a 
 mutual approach and intercourse of the two 
 sexes, which rests on sympathy of soul, con- 
 trasted with another approach and intercourse, 
 which is as foreign to the former, as the higher 
 eoul's life is to the hnvest materialism ; in a 
 word, we thus distinguish : " Love and Animal- 
 ism," (in case we may be permitted to form a 
 positive word for an abstract notion.) 
 
 How little Dr. Thorfiii had erred or deceived 
 himself in such perceptions, may, perhaps, be 
 proved by the bullet whii:., on that eventful 
 evening, w'hizzed through the garden gate, un- 1 
 der circumstances that we shall tind, in due time 
 revealed, in the progress of our story. 
 
 The so Called weak woman, in the conscious- 
 ness of her dignity, is endued by nature with 
 a strength which, as repulsion, bids defiance to 
 all mortal power, and repels every frivolous ap- 
 proach with the " sentence of death," expressed 
 by a single giance. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SOCIAL (JtJESTIONS. 
 
 It may be considered a philosophic truth, 
 that man, in every age, and in every zone, re- 
 mains " man ;" and we understand, by this term, 
 the inhabitant of the earth, in preference to all 
 other creatures of our planet, endowed with 
 susceptibility for a higher idea than that of 
 animal life, with free poiver of will, with capa- 
 city for thought, and judgement, and sentiment, 
 capable of the moral and physical ennoblement 
 which the consciousness of his divine nature 
 points out to him. In accordance with this 
 truth, however, we behold man in the various 
 zones of the earth incoiitestably thrown under 
 the influence of climate, of customs, and, espe- 
 cially of human regulations. The latter often 
 appear more a satire on reason and the divine 
 naluvc, in rigid contradiction with themselves, 
 and oppressive of the moral freedom of man, than 
 they authenticate reason, and promote nature. 
 
 Should it appear possible, in consequence of 
 the philosophical result of tiie considerations 
 and researches of all ages, to arrive at a defini- 
 tion of the term, 7na/i — to answer, with tolerable 
 logical tena!)ility, the question; " What is man .'" 
 all logical tenability would be suddenly at a 
 loss by the half of the question : *' What is 
 woman ?"' 
 
 With all respect and veneration towards the 
 intellectual judgement of all the classical and 
 modern philosojihical cultivation of European 
 academies and universities, (among which we 
 give the " Institute de I'rance" the first place,) 
 we doubt, nevertheless, whether if this were pro- 
 posed as the pri/.e question for the year IS-IO, a 
 satisfactory answer w'ould be given, by all the 
 white or coloured* literati on earth. 
 
 The more Socialism is recognised in our epoch. 
 
 • A coloured man, .Mr. Linstant. LL. D., or Hayti, 
 obtained, in cousequence of an anonymous dissertation, 
 in tlie year ltia9, tlie prize of the Academy of i'aris, u|K)n 
 tlic quustion : " What is tlie cause of the antipathy of 
 ILc whites aguinst coloured jteojtle ?-' 
 
 as a subject of the most profound research, anil 
 the future transformation of existing social re- 
 gulations is acknowledged to be an undoubted 
 necessity in all nations, so much the more clear- 
 ly does the question arise, as to the destiny and 
 the dignity of woman. By "socialism," we un- 
 derstand the consideration and profound investi- 
 gation of the dignity and high destiny of man- 
 kind, the discussion and designation of the 
 duties of both sexes towards human society and 
 towards themselves, and the annf»uncement ot 
 all possible means and ways of arriving, through 
 inoriJ ennoblement, at the aim of their social 
 destination. 
 
 It is a consequence of our material age, as in- 
 teresting as it is natural, that socialism (in what- 
 ever forn\, and with whatever aim it presents 
 itself here and there) prefers to concern itself 
 with the material interests of individual classes, 
 rather than to hold up the moral ennoblement 
 of the whole nation as the chief thing. 
 
 As a result of nationality, wouhl proceed 
 the reformation of the statutes, which circum- 
 scribe the material interests of the so called 
 subordinate classes, and degrade them as slaves 
 to the selfishness and prejudice of the so called 
 privileged classes, who keep them in wretch- 
 edness. 
 
 It seems to us strange, remarkable, and incon- 
 ceivable, that philosophers of high standing can 
 consider a social edifice of the future to be prac- 
 ticable, and answerable to the requisitions of so- 
 ciety, whose foundation rests upon individual- 
 ism instead of humanity. 
 
 It seems to us impossible to produce a social 
 translbrmation without overthrowing the politi- 
 cal regulations of prerogative, without estab- 
 lishing the freedom of a nation. And it seems 
 to lis just as impossible, in countries whei-e the 
 element of political freedom on the basis of na- 
 tionality is attained, to bring about a social re- 
 formation through material improvements, with- 
 out a recogriition of moral and intellectual enno- 
 blement, the exalted and true destination of man, 
 as his aim on earth. 
 
 Association upon association may form them- 
 selves, on funds or voluntary contributions, with 
 or without community of goods, to supply tem- 
 porary nourishment and employment to some 
 thousands of breadless mechanics — speculators 
 upon speculators, (proceeding to the practical 
 application of this or that philosophical system) 
 may establish and promote one or the other phi- 
 lanthropic social enterprise — the social world, or 
 the basis of individualism, will forever remain 
 the same, so long as the nation does nut, in the 
 element of freedom, set up ordinances of hu- 
 manity, in conse<]uence of which the legislation 
 of the state, and the education of the rising 
 generation, shall be recognised as the first and 
 only means of all social improvetnent, and all 
 ennoblement of the human race. 
 
 By thesideof the material degeneracy of the 
 men of our age, which conlbunds the means 
 with the end, and recognises no higher aim than 
 " to make money," even desj>ising talent and in- 
 tellect, as subordinate to this oliject — stands 
 woman, " the riddle of creation," which, judging 
 by the records of Scripture, even God (as it ap- 
 peared) was not able to solve The singular 
 prophecy which he united with it, is as obscurs 
 as the riddle itself: " Therefore shall a man leav'O
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 221 
 
 fAthcr and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, 
 eiti they twain shall be one fleah." 
 
 Had Dr. Thorfin, in his discussion about the 
 psychological enigma of the moral degradation 
 of woman in marriage without love, recollected 
 this passage of the Bible, it Would, at least, have 
 advanced him some steps nearer to the solution 
 of this social question. It has been manv times 
 juridically proved that a morallv vile man', when 
 it comes to the point at which the unfortunate 
 Wife might separate from her husband, literally 
 " cleaves" to his wife, and if she desires the sepa- 
 ration, in a hundred cases to one he refuses, be- 
 cause she has become " one tlesh" with him, and 
 13, as Mr. Thomson expressed himself, perhaps, 
 particularly " comfortable " to him as a wife. 
 
 We see, likewise, millions of cases in which 
 the wife, as Mr. Fitz said, " cannot be separated 
 from her husband by a steam engine of sixty 
 horse power," although he is sunken in demor- 
 alization, a fact, the reason of which is perhaps 
 
 to be sought in the above passage of Scripture 
 
 because both have become ■' one flesh." 
 
 If the original Hebrew text, in the above 
 place, has been correctly translated, (which We 
 submit to the researches of classic philologists,) 
 then "the riddle of creation," woman, stands 
 out only the more inexplicable, since God, ac- 
 cording to another Scripture passage, " created 
 man in his uwn image;" and it repeats: "In 
 the image of God created he him :" And this man, 
 created in the image of God, " shall leave father 
 and mother, and cleave to his wife ■"' That is, in 
 fact, as great a contradiction as woman ig' in 
 herself. 
 
 It stands, also, in Scripture: •' It is not good 
 for man to be alone." To be sure not. This truth 
 has been recognised for many thousand years- 
 " It IS not good." The Apostle Paul, as an apostle 
 who, here and there, in his flight, must " slide out 
 of a window in a basket,"* could only maintain, 
 as an exception, " he that does not marry does 
 better," since there might not always be room 
 enough m such a flight-basket for two persons, 
 and his apostolic office required resignation. 
 
 That the Apostle Paul, however, recognised 
 clearly the powerful influence of woman upon 
 man or youth in general,! is confirmed, amongst 
 many similar passages, by his fatherly or bro- 
 therly warning to the youthful apostle Timothy 
 " to beware of the young widows,"} etc. , since he 
 beheld the young Timothy (like so many other 
 apostles) in danger of hanging his apostolic of- 
 fice " on the nail " so soon as he should " cleave" 
 to a young widow ! We may conclude, from Paul 
 and all the epistles of the apostles, that the wo- 
 man of eighteen hundred years ago, was the 
 same woman who, some thousands of years be- 
 fore, gave her Adam to eat of the forbidden fruit, 
 and then, with female inconsistency, cast the 
 m guilt upon the serpent. 
 
 Poor, unfortunate woman ! thou hadst, at least, 
 of course, so much love of truth, and sense of 
 honor and openheartedness, as to admit, " I first 
 allowed myself to be seduced, and then I se- 
 duced." 
 
 Perhaps she was seduced by a Mephistophel— 
 by one of those fallen angels, who lived with 
 them in Paradise, as the " children of God " 
 
 '■ Noble, hut much fo be pitied woman ! If T, 
 like Adam, had had the luck to be seduced by 
 such a woman," (observed Hinango, in cimver- 
 sation with Dr. Thorfin on tlie above social ques- 
 tions,) " I Would have sustained the loss of 
 earthly paradise, and in tlie loveotsurh a noble 
 woman, would have found my spiritual paradise, 
 even in the desert " 
 
 " That I believe— it is probable," added Dr. 
 Thorfin, and both found themselves at the gar- 
 den gate of Madame Closting, when Hinango 
 withdrew, and rode out towwds Beta Fogo. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE BHAZILIAN WOMAN. 
 
 •1 Corinthians, chap. 7, v. 8, 9, 32 37 33 40 
 
 1 2 Corinthians, u, v. 33. J Timothy, chap! 6, y. U. 
 
 It was towards evening. Dr. Thorfin found 
 the young Englishman from the Nordstjernan 
 in the sitting-room of his hostess, who was oc- 
 cupied with her flower Work, while the " little 
 creature" who must "by all means" be her 
 daughter, was playing at her feet, and trying to 
 make flowers likewise, with the clippin"s of 
 some feathers. ° 
 
 The physician, who had already, for soma 
 weeks, often met young Mr. Walker in the same 
 domestic circle, took a seat by him, and ex- 
 pressed, in the first place, his professional grati- 
 fication at the indisputable revival of strength io 
 his patient. 
 
 " For the present, you require no more medi- 
 cine," said he, after a sliort conversation upon 
 the state of her health ; " if you should relapse, 
 however, ^sculapius would be in perplexity, 
 and leave me in the lurch." 
 
 "Relapse! be so ill as I was lately .'" cried 
 the young lady, with a heartfelt expression of 
 anxiety and dread ; " God forbid :" and laid her 
 feather flowers out of her hand. 
 
 " What book have you there, Mr. Walker .'" 
 said Dr. Thorfin, hastily seeking an object on 
 which to turn the attention of the sufferer. 
 
 " Luckock's Notes on Kio de Janeiro and 
 Southern Brazil— lS-20," replied Robert, " and 
 I was just going to read, for Senhora CIracia, a 
 portrait, as I find here, although in a very bad 
 style, a delineation of the characteristics of the 
 Brazilian Women." 
 
 " 1 fear, however, that the Senhor Inglez ob- 
 serves us through English spectacles, which, 
 perhaps, magnify or diminish, or are green or 
 blue. Honestly speaking, 1 feel that we are no 
 more perfect than the female sex in other coun- 
 tries, and fear I should fall into a little embar- 
 rassment, if this sketch is correct," 
 
 " You will permit me to read it to you, Sen- 
 hora .'" inquired Robert, smiling. 
 
 " ' beg you to do so, and promise not to inter- 
 rupt you. If, however, I find accusations against 
 my countrywomen, I shall allow myself to make 
 our apology after you have ended." 
 
 The little one went up to Dr. Thorfin, and 
 showed him her flowers. Robert began, and 
 read as follows : 
 
 " Of their dress and apearance, we Btranger* 
 were more competent judges than of theip
 
 imsi 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 mir.rlq. The firmer is of the lightest sort. Amonz 
 their fhmiliar friends, they are seen with a sliilt 
 only, and the bosom of it often falling otf from 
 one shoulder. They wear no stockings, and 
 seldom eittier slippers, or the wooden clogs, 
 with hrown upper leather, called tamancas. 
 Their hair is long, bound with a riband close 
 behind the head, the end turned up to the crown, 
 and there twisted about a sort of bodkin. Some- 
 times a wreath of artificial flowers is added, 
 ingeniously made by themselves of silk, beads, 
 coloured paper, tinsel, and the wings of some 
 of the brilliant insects of the country. They 
 are arranged and worn with taste. They have 
 few opportunities of conversing with the other 
 sex, and what good fortune offers they use with 
 eagerness. 
 
 " The ornaments of these females have a 
 pleasing effect, and set off the charms of a face, 
 the features of which are round and regular, a 
 black, lively, inquisitive eye, a smooth and open 
 forehead, a mouth expressive of simjilicity and 
 good temper, furnished with a white and even 
 set of teeth, united with a moderately handsome 
 figure, a sprigiUly, laughing air, and a demean- 
 our gay, frank, and unsuspicious. Such is the 
 appearance of a young lady of about thirteen or 
 fourteen years of age, a period when she usually 
 takes upon her the cares of a household. At 
 eighteen, in a Brazilian woman, nature has at- 
 tained to full maturity ; a few years later, she 
 becomes corpulent, acquires a great stoop in her 
 shoulders, looses the good humour of her coun- 
 tenance, and the eye and mouth both indicate that 
 they have been accustomed to express the violent 
 and vindictive passions. 
 
 " Early corpulence appeared to me to arise 
 from their secluded and indolent habits. They 
 are seldom seen out of doors, except when going 
 to mass, so early as four o'clock in the morning 
 and even then the whole form and face are so 
 wrapped in mantles, as to preclude the enjoy- 
 ment ot' fresh air, and to conceal every feature, 
 except perhaps a wickedly talkative eye. The 
 exercise which these ladies take, is almost wholly 
 confined to the house." 
 
 Senhora Gracia had listened to the reading 
 the most quietly possible, even though at times 
 a slight flush passed over her Brazilian com- 
 plexion; and Dr. Thorfin had, by anticipa- 
 tion, so to say, counted her replies " upon his 
 fingers." 
 
 " 1 will tell the Senhor Inglez my opinion, 
 point for point," began the lady, smiling, when 
 Robert had concluded. She requested the book, 
 to read over the several places, that she might 
 correct them. Robert appeared to hand it to her 
 reluctantly, as he feared, with justice, that she 
 would read further than he had proposed. He 
 could, however, find no consistent pretext for 
 withliolding the book from her, so he handed it 
 to her, and she read over the places she had 
 marked for herself 
 
 " As concerns our negligee, I should like to 
 know in what sort of ladies' society your Inglez 
 was an ' intimate friend.' That we cannot, in so 
 warm a climate, tie ourselves up in many tight 
 garments, while we, as your Inglez himself ad- 
 mits, pass most of our time at home, I find as 
 F'-iitable as natural ; but I demand of you both, to 
 decide whether you have ever seen me in a 
 lij^hter negligee than this in which I am sitting 
 
 here, and whether it has ever • partly fallen from 
 my shoulder,' in your presence ?" 
 
 The two friends, according to the truth, gave 
 the required affirmation, and Senhora Gracia con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " As regards our tamancas, they are not 
 always of brown leather, as your Inglez asserts, 
 but as you see, and have long known, of all con- 
 ceivable colors, and often very tastefully orna- 
 mented," She thrust out the point of a tamanca 
 below the trimming other negligee. 
 
 " And for the most part very small and deli- 
 cate," returned Dr. Thorfin, " at least yours are 
 so." 
 
 " What is it to your Inglez whether we wear 
 stockings in the house or not .'" she continued. 
 
 " Perhaps he is a knight of the Order of the 
 Garter," interrupted Mr. Robert. 
 
 " He may have the honor. He will hardly have 
 seen at our balls here an empress or lady of the 
 court without stockings, in case he had been 
 permitted to attend them. I thank him that he 
 at least allows us commendable hair. 1 do not 
 wear mine, however, twisted up ' in buckskin,* 
 but as you see, for the most part, confined on 
 the forehead with a velvet band, and fastened in 
 a knot behind." 
 
 " And that is certainly very becoming to you," 
 affirmed the doctor," only I find the velvet band 
 too wide, it conceals too much of your open 
 forehead." 
 
 " 1 thank you doctor ! That we can make 
 flowers you see, but we seldom use paper for 
 them, and the English paper there that asserts 
 our ' eagerness to converse with gentlemen,' if it 
 were even colored, I would not convert into a 
 thistle leaf As regards our portrait, we owe 
 the Inglez national thanks indeed ! he is very 
 gracious ! very flattering ! only I find our faces 
 more oval than round. Perhaps the Inglez saw 
 them all round, because he was accustomed to 
 his own reflection in the glass. A moderately 
 handsome figure I" continued she, with naive 
 emphasis. " Then it is moderately handsome 1 
 Thanks ! thanks ! in the name of my country- 
 women I mo-de-rate-ly handsome ! 1 find this 
 judgement admirably just." 
 
 The two friends could not restrain their laugh- 
 ter at the expression on the oval countenance 
 of the young lady, who suddenly rose, placed 
 herself before the mirror, and contemplated her 
 figure, with the exclamation : " Yes, sir, mo-de- 
 rate-ly handsome '." 
 
 " ' Gay, frank, and unsuspicious !' Frank and 
 unsuspicious we ai-e, that they must allow us. 
 Gay? Ah! yes; I was gay once. At thirteen 
 or fourteen, we are burdened with the cares of 
 a household ; that is true. Whether we are 
 maturer matrons at eighteen, and some years 
 later become corpulent, and lose our good hu- 
 mour, that may, also, be partially true, although 
 I have not become corpulent, I have, unhappily, 
 already, before eighteen years, lost my good 
 humor." She read further : " ' Accustomed to 
 express violent and vindictive passions.' " " Is 
 that true .'" inquired she, with incomparable 
 naivete. " Have you seen me so violent, doctor 
 say frankly ?" 
 
 " If Mr. Robert lives near you for some 
 
 months, I will beg him to answer the question " 
 
 " Senhor Roberto," now began the young lady, 
 
 with an expression of voice and countenance
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 223 
 
 as original asgoodhearted, " Senhor Roberto, you 
 know that I, also, am a Brazilian woman ; now 
 listen to my request, in the presence of you 
 and my friend. I hope that I shall long enjoy 
 the pleasure of your neighborhood, and if yon 
 should ever see me in an outbreak of passion — 
 an outl)reak of passion against you, then pardon 
 me ! Will you, Senhor Roberto— will you forgive 
 me, in such a case ? I beg you now to do so, in 
 case I should ever vex you ; to ask forgiveness 
 when I have vexed you, would be hard for me, 
 for I am a woman — a Brazilian woman, and, so 
 far as I have heard, your European women sel- 
 dom or never admit that they have done wrong, 
 when they otTend a friend through their ebulli- 
 tions.'* 
 
 The inimitable naturalness, and the sad tone 
 with which Senhora Gracia uttered this request, 
 afiected both her auditors. 
 
 " You will not vex me, nor can you offend me 
 in any manner, that I should expect a request 
 for pardon from you," replied Robert; "there 
 may occur cases when you will mistake me, and 
 when the pain of being mistaken by you, will 
 make me unhappy ; that is all forgiven in anti- 
 cipation ; I give you my hand thereupon." 
 
 " You are a noble man," sighed the lady, and 
 pressed the hand of the Briton ; " I envy the 
 
 woman that " She interrupted herself, and 
 
 read silently : 
 
 " the unnatural, and shamefully early age 
 
 at which they are allowed to marry. Their earlv 
 good humor, or the show of it, soon wears away ; 
 they often become the very reverse of what they 
 were, and exhibit the alternative too plainly. 
 Tliey s,ecm to bo regarded by the men as dolls, 
 or as spoiled children, whose whims must be 
 gratified, and even anticipated ; and she who 
 has the greatest number, obtains the most atten- 
 tion. The generality of ladies, treated in this 
 way, become, almost of course, fretful and peev- 
 ish, and vent their spleen upon their slaves." 
 
 While she scanned over these lines, all the 
 contradictory emotions which their impression 
 wrought in her, were depicted upon her delicate 
 countenance. 
 
 " The unnatural and shamefully early age," 
 whispered she, and suddenly threw the book 
 from her. A deadly paleness overspread her 
 face ; a fever chill appeared to pass over her. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin and Robert looked at each other 
 with an expression of heartfelt sympathy, and 
 remained silent. 
 
 " God forgive me ! it was not my fault," she 
 at length exclaimed, and leaned herself hastily 
 out of the window, to hide a flood of tears. 
 
 The two friends found it convenient to with- 
 draw for an instant, and went into Robert's pa- 
 vilion, where the little one, with her feather 
 flowers, accompanied them. 
 
 " Is that really her daughter .'" inquired Ro- 
 bert of the physician, after a long pause. " I 
 permit myself this question, without desiring to 
 intrude upon the incognito of this lady, which 
 was the condition under which I came here." 
 
 " To be sure," replied Dr. Thorfin, laughing, 
 •' I thought you knew that, long ago." 
 
 " Call it spleen, or what you will, I cannot 
 believe it, and will not believe it !" 
 
 " Why not >" 
 
 " Because I cannot think that she is married." 
 
 Thorfin again looked at the youth with a 
 smile, and observed : *' You may be willing to 
 believe it or not — be able to think it or not; it 
 nevertheless is and will remain so. Your neigh- 
 bor has been married four years. To whom, 
 I may not tell you, as you well know. Besides 
 this little one, she has had two others, sickly, 
 suffering creatures, who did not live long." 
 
 " You may make another believe that .'" 
 grumbled Robert. " You will at length try to 
 persuade me that I myself am already a grand- 
 father !" 
 
 Senhora Gracia had dried her tears, and now 
 called to the little one at the entrance of the 
 pavilion under the young banana; boUi gentle- 
 men went out to her before the door, and led the 
 child towards her. 
 
 " I thank you for the book, doctor," she be- 
 gan, as she handed him a small duodecimo 
 volume; itwa3the"Psychology of Love," which 
 she had thrown her tamanca alter on that event- 
 ful night. 
 
 " Whoever the author may be, and in what- 
 ever part of the world he may live, he means 
 well by us, by the women, and I hope that a 
 worthy individual of our sex may long since 
 have rewarded him with her love." 
 
 " 1 doubt that extremely," said Dr. Thorfin, 
 laughing, " for, so far as I know his circum- 
 stances his property is confiscated, and ' With- 
 out money, no mouths of honey.' " 
 
 " Doctor ! how can you quote such a proverb .' 
 Are you in earnest >" 
 
 " Perfectly in earnest, through manifold ex- 
 perience, confirmed also around us here." 
 
 " And have you made no experience from ob- 
 servation, which tells you of the contrary ? I 
 know also that men get through the world bet- 
 ter in relation to tiieir outward existence, when 
 they are married than if they remain single." 
 
 " Certainly ! I grant you the last," assented 
 the doctor; "the man makes demands upon 
 social sympathy for his wife ; demands which 
 he dares not make as a so called single per- 
 son. Where love cements (he union, I find such 
 demands just. But to bind a noble being to us, 
 as a 'sign of family paternity,' without love, I 
 pronounce to be unmanly ; and as a man of honor 
 I, myself, would be ashamed of such a privi- 
 lege." 
 
 " And as is indicated in this book, als®," added 
 the lady, with a sigh. 
 
 " If I had a free fatherland, I would propose a 
 marriage court in every parish, consisting of wo- 
 men and men,"* continued Dr. Thorfin. " Each 
 couple should announce themselves as betroth- 
 ed, and should not marry until a year after the 
 announcement, if both kept to their resolution. 
 If they became convinced, during the year, that 
 mutual love did not prevail, then many unhappy 
 marriages would be avoided. Before the same 
 court, all complaints and accusations for divorce 
 should be received, investigated, and decided on. 
 
 " Very naturally, however, the necessary es- 
 tablishment of a universal Popular Education 
 should precede this. As government in gene- 
 ral should regard education as the foundation of 
 its spiritual and material prosperity, care should 
 also be taken, by various public institutions, for 
 the welfare of the children of divorced parents 
 
 • See Social World, Book VI., chap.iii, Dolores
 
 224 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 " If man considers ".iberty as the privilege to do 
 or to leave undone whatever pleases, without the 
 higher aim of hiimia ennoblement, the youth- 
 ful generation will ^row up like nettles upon thi 
 open fields; and if the children inherit nothing 
 els.', they will, at least, inherit the selfishness 
 of their parents." 
 
 " Don Pedro the Second will hardly introduce 
 populir education in Brazil on such humane 
 principles," observed tlie young lady. 
 
 " No monarchy, whether despotic or consti- 
 tutional, will sustain a principle of humanity 
 that contravenes its establishment; and in coun- 
 tries which boast of their freedom, man is so 
 extremely occupied vrith * business and money 
 making,' that, until now, he has found no time to 
 reflect upon the idea of freedom, and to ponder 
 his duty, as a man, towards mankind." 
 
 " I used to believe that England was free, and 
 was proud of our freedom," remarked Robert, 
 "but [ feel, mote and more, that we are gov- 
 erned by a power which more rigidly resists the 
 foundation of a •■ational system of popular edu- 
 cation than abso'v'tism: it is Prejudice, which 
 recognises the aristocracy and the priesthood as 
 the Highest authority, and so long as these pre- 
 vail, no social 'ransformation is to be thought 
 of" 
 
 " Your old England, my dear Mr. Walker, is, 
 in relation to moral freedom, at least two centu- 
 ries behind France, and will yet pass through a 
 crisis like the year '93, before prejudice is over- 
 thrown." 
 
 " Our Chartists appear to know what is re- 
 quired " 
 
 " And your socialists stand opposed to them, 
 since in England, as everywhere, they hold a 
 social relorm possible without political and 
 moral freedom ; that is the mistake !" 
 
 " Papa will come soon !" said the little one, 
 interrupting the philosophical physician, " and 
 bring a gold chain for mamma, and then we 
 shall go to the theatre." 
 
 The young lady colored at the inapropos in- 
 terruption, took the little creature gently by the 
 hand, and led her to her attendaut, the negress 
 Maria." 
 
 Dr. Thorfin took leave of the young English- 
 man and his convalescent patient, and rode 
 down the hill, past his dwelling, towards Bota 
 Fogo, where he was to meet his friend Hinango 
 according to agreement. 
 
 CHAPTER X . 
 
 N-^TURE AND CUCBCH. 
 
 It was difficult for Robert to find a \^ord of 
 excuse for having, by his lecture of the charac- 
 teristics of the women of Brazil, touched a 
 string in the mind of his friend, which so clear- 
 ly awakened within her the tone of discord. 
 
 " Pardon me Senhora," began he, as he was 
 walking with her in the garden, " I considered 
 the whole sketch, so far as I read it, beforehand, 
 from the comic side, and did not suspect " 
 
 "0, I know that, Senhor Roberto! It was 
 not your intention to wound me — I feel that — 
 
 you gave me the book unwillingly. I thank yen, 
 however, that you have given me an oppor- 
 tunity '" She paused, and then continued; 
 
 ■* You know too little of my fate, to be able to 
 
 Imagine what anguish stilus when I when I 
 
 look back upon a step — that 1 — -took once — and 
 — have regretted often enough." 
 
 " You have re.illy been married then ? if ) 
 may be allowed the question. I have, until now 
 not been able to believe it; and just because I 
 did not believe, I had the less fear of reading." 
 
 " Let us sit down," said she, alter a pause 
 and pointed to a stone bench near the young ba 
 nana. " To-day I am at length forced to give 
 you information about my pi_>sitioii ; about my 
 inward life. Listen to me quietly, and coiidemu 
 me, if you find me culpable." 
 
 An expression of pleasure passed over Ro- 
 bert's countenance, at the prospect of receiving 
 the long desired communication, which, from 
 strict discretion, he would never urge. 
 
 The young lady commenced, interrupting her- 
 self, from time to time, as she was led aside into 
 the mazes of retrospection, and related as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 *' My father was a superior officer at the 
 mines of Minas Geraes. He was surrounded by 
 gold, but he was an honorable man, and acquired 
 no property. His income was hardly suiiicienl 
 for our support. My mother was the daughter 
 of an othcer of high rank, who likewise left 
 nothing behind but the name of a brave soldier. 
 We were three sisters. My brother entered the 
 military service, and tell, as an ensign, in the 
 campaign in the south, in the war against the 
 rebels. I lived, when a child, with my sisters 
 in the Minas Mountains, until my mother diid, 
 ten years ago. We were helpless, for the 
 pension of my mother ceased at her death, and 
 we had no protectors at court. Some relatives 
 among the rest Senhor Moreto, in Rua dos Ou- 
 rives, took us, and provided for our education in 
 a convent school, where young girls of the firs', 
 families were instructed in all th..t was found 
 suitable. My sister was afraid to go into the 
 world without property, and shrunk from the 
 thought of being unhappy in marriage. .She 
 kitew as little as I what was to become of her 
 when she left the institution, and remained in 
 the cloister. She took the veil, " to have a 
 living." Ah ! it would perhaps have been bet- 
 ter if I had done the same ; but it was (juite 
 difficult to place one of us there, lor we were 
 poor, and my sister could give no donation to 
 the convent. Besides, I felt no inclination for 
 cloister life, I could not dissemble, and I could 
 not believe what the church required as faith. 
 Ah ! I often felt so unhappy ! As a child 1 had 
 so loved the whole world. The whole of grand, 
 exalted nature, with all its mountains, ami 
 streams, and flowers, and butterflies, had become 
 so familiar to me. I played all day, and until late 
 at night, with my floweis, whose buds I watched 
 before they unfolded, and gave every favorite a 
 particular name, and laid myself down by them, 
 and often prattled to them for hours. I admired 
 mysterious nature in the life of the flowers, ob- 
 served many of the chalices, as they slowly closed 
 at sundown, and hurried in the morning to the 
 same llower, before it awakened, and laid down 
 by it, and said to it : ' Oh, thou dear, good little 
 flower, wilt thou soon awake? how hast thou
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 223 
 
 plejit ? hast thou dreamt much — much and plea- 
 santly ?' Pardon me these childish reminiscences ; 
 I lived entirely in my flowers; it seemed to me 
 as if I v/as related to them. I was then obliged 
 to part from all that I loved there, and lived 
 five whole years in the convent. The religious 
 Sentiments which I had derived from sublime 
 nature, were declared to be sinful, heathenish 
 notions, abominable, and blasphemous. I must 
 now consider as culpable, what had so purely 
 developed itself in mc as a child, in reverence 
 and worship of the God who made my flowers. 
 
 "Ah ! I cannot and will not tell you of the pain 
 I felt when they called me a heathen, who would 
 be * eternally damned ' unless converted. As a 
 child of seven or eight years old, 1 mustcompre- 
 hand religious dogmas, which the nuns them- 
 selves, who taught them, did not comprehend 
 them. I was merely to believe them ; believe 
 in relics and miracles, and pray in words whose 
 meaning I did not understand, and secretly ob- 
 serve my playfellows, and report to the nuns 
 what this or that one said or did. Hell was de- 
 picted to me as a means of binding me to the 
 so called duties of faith and es]uonage. I re- 
 cognised our whole so called religion as a system 
 of terror, that holds up fear instead of love, and 
 the Devil instead of God. But why should 1 
 relate to you any more of my sufferings as a 
 child .' I prayed to the God whom I had ac- 
 knowledged in my childish innocence, that he 
 would open my heart to faith — faith in the mira- 
 cles of the church, and in all that I should 
 believe in. But God heard me not, and I could 
 not respect the nuns, who wished to compel me 
 to listen secretly to my playmates, and to be the 
 cause of their punishment, when I saw no sin in 
 all that was described as culpable. At length I 
 was confirmed, and left the convent. 
 
 "An aunt took charge of me ; but I came ' out of 
 the rain under the eaves.' I had, until now, only 
 seen the world through the window grates of 
 our convent ; the whole great city was a strange 
 World to me, and no Botocudan maiden, that may 
 casually come to Rio, can be more astonished 
 with ;dl that surrounds her here, than 1 was. I 
 was curious to see all, to become well acquainted 
 with every thing, and my aunt declared me a 
 worldling, and wept over my 'thwarted educa- 
 tion ;' and when I told her that 1 was passionate- 
 ly fond of playing on the organ, and wished for 
 a piano that I might practice diligently, then 
 my misfortunes were complete." 
 
 " A singular accordance with my position 
 towards my aunt in Buenos Ayres," remarked 
 Robert, as she paused. " I beg you tell me 
 more." 
 
 " I longed to hear an opera — to visit the the- 
 atre. One of my relatives took me, occasionally, 
 here and there, and I soon learned our national 
 dances from my young friends, in whose society 
 I lived. I attended family balls, and I found 
 life so new, and so charming by its novelty, and 
 now desired nothing so much as to be ' indepen- 
 dent," that I might enjoy life. I called it being 
 independent to remove from my aunt, who was 
 hourly tiring me with telling the rosary, and de- 
 picted all the enjoyments of the world as sinful 
 and culpable. 1 durst read nothing but my con- 
 vent hooks, which 1 had read a hundred times, 
 and I thought so much the more. I had an ap- 
 titude for flower-making, and not to be a burden 
 29 
 
 to my aunt for the nxpenses of clothing, and the 
 like, I gave my attention to the trade, and sold 
 my work to the business people, who dealt in 
 them. A stranger came to live at my aunt's, 
 who had hired the second story. I made his 
 acquaintance. He was a naturalist, and had for- 
 merly been a soldier in the German legion. He 
 always had all sorts of singular things to show 
 me — minerals, and animals, and insects, that were 
 strange to me, and attracted my curiosity. Some- 
 times he had a tiger cat, whose frightful wild- 
 ness terrified me ; and yet I lingered willingly 
 before the cage, to accustom myself to the hor- 
 rible. He kept great boa constrictors, rattle- 
 snakes, and the like monsters. I gradually be- 
 came accustomed to the naturalist, and his dis- 
 agreeable company. He was more polite and 
 complaisant to me than any other man had ever 
 shown himself, and — and— God knows 1 only 
 desired a friend in tlie world, a friend who 
 should accompany me through life. I did not 
 know tvhat I wanted ; 1 did not know any thing 
 of life — I had no idea of my destiny as a woman 
 — I was, with all my education, so stupid, so 
 excessively stupid, in all that the future was to 
 lead me to, so unconscious with regard to all 
 social relations, that 1 — that I did not even know 
 what step I took when 1 married the man in 
 whom 1 sought a friend." 
 
 " Then you married Mr. Closting?" inquired 
 Robert, involuntarily, but started when he had 
 uttered the name. 
 
 " Mr. Closting ! my God ! you know, then, 
 that I " 
 
 " That you are Madame Closting," interrup- 
 ted the youth ; " that is, [ might have known it 
 long ago, but — until to-day I did not even yet 
 believe that you were married, and, consequent- 
 ly, not that you were Madame Closting. I can- 
 not, and will not, and never shall believe it!" 
 added he, with a degree of violence. 
 
 Notwithstanding the seriousness which the 
 lady's state of mind, and which the communi- 
 cation occasioned, she could not avoid a smile, 
 since the contradiction of his assertions bordered 
 on the comic. 
 
 " Dear Senhor Roberto," began she, after a 
 pause, " in the convent I was required to be- 
 lieve what no man can know, and you refuse to 
 believe what you knew beforehand." 
 
 " Well," said the youth, after he had for a 
 long time gazed before him, " explain it as you 
 will, I cannot conceive the thought that you are 
 the mother of that little one, that you have ever 
 pressed the hand of a man — to say nothing of 
 
 giving your hand away . I had forgotten 
 
 to say to you this morning," continued he, "that 
 I am going away in a few days." 
 
 " Going away ! you will go away .' Senhor 
 Roberto, do not put such a bitter jest upon me. 
 You cannot be in earnest !" 
 
 " However, I " 
 
 " I understand you," she would have said, but 
 she restrained the words on her tongue, that 
 would have expressed too much. 
 
 " No," continued she, alter long reflection, 
 "No, it cannot be ! you will not go away ; you 
 have hardly been here six weeks. Six weeks ! 
 it seems to me as if it were six days. You must 
 stay here, Senhor Roberto, at least, until my 
 husband comes. You ought not to leave me. I 
 have not yet told you all. I will reveal to yotf
 
 226 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 the situation in wliich I am placed here, and I 
 am certain, beforehand, that you will not leave 
 me to the danger that threntens me if I remain 
 here alone." 
 
 " It is true," interrupted he, " I have pro- 
 mised you my protection — it is true. I will re- 
 main here until — until the business of our house 
 calls me away. It will happen some of these 
 days. Tell me, I beg you " 
 
 " There is a man here who sought the ac 
 quaintance of my husband," continued Madame 
 Closting, " a baron from Europe, who is travel 
 ling for his pleasure, as he says ; he lives at 
 the Hotel Faroux ; a man in whose presence I 
 was always more uncomfortable than before the 
 cage of the rattlesnakes and the tigercats, and 
 it has become evident, latterly, that my antipa- 
 thy towards this man was not unfounded. This 
 man leads here a very wild, dissolute life, and 
 keeps several mistresses. This man visited us 
 often before my husband went into the interior 
 of the country, and transacted business with 
 him. We lived in the city, and I remained 
 atone with my two negresses. The baron, as he 
 called himself, continued his visits under the 
 mask of being a friend of my husband, after he 
 had gone away ; I received him according to my 
 anti])athy, without, at the same time, violating 
 hospitality. Perhaps he remarked that his 
 presence was not exactly desired by me, and he 
 remained away for a long time. My husband 
 has an agent here, who takes care of his busi- 
 ness ; his name is Senhor Forro ; his mother-in- 
 law is a very low woman, who unfortunately 
 visited me occasionally, because I could not 
 show her the door. My husband left me a sum 
 for my support, he is very particular in all that 
 relates to money matters ; you will become ac- 
 quainted with him, and find a friend in him ; he 
 is the best man in the world, and universally 
 respected; he has enemies, like all other men — 
 and especially enviers — amongst his countrymen 
 particularly, because he is fortunate in business 
 and a very experienced business man " 
 
 " And the agent's mother-in-law !" said Mr. 
 Robert, interrupting the "exemplary wife" of 
 the respected man of business, " the woman of 
 whom you were going to tell me ?" 
 
 " I came upon the subject of my husband be- 
 cause he is very punctual in money matters, and 
 very naturally would not have gone away with- 
 out having left word with Senhor Forro to give 
 me the necessary sum monthly that I required 
 for my housekeeping." 
 
 " Pardon me for interrupting you," remarked 
 Robert ; " I find it very strange that your husband 
 should leave you under the guardianship of an 
 agent whose mother-in-law is a bad character ; 
 incorrect associations were to be feared." 
 
 " Certainly — but — the men stand in business 
 connexion between themselves, and their family 
 regulations they consider as — as secondary — the 
 one never concerns himself with the family of 
 the other." 
 
 " Just so I think ; therefore Senhor Forro, also, 
 should have had no occasion to concern himself 
 with you. Go on, I beg." 
 
 " The baron then remained away a long while. 
 My husband has now been gone eight months, 
 and should already have returned four months 
 ago. He wrote, however, that his business re- 
 quired a still longer journey, and he desired or 
 
 ordered Mr. Forro to continue to pay me the 
 monthly sum. There must have been a misun- 
 derstanding," continued she, with evident em- 
 barrassment ; " evidently a mistake, for my hus- 
 band is known here as a man of property and 
 credit, and universally respected as such ; you 
 must make his acquaintance " 
 
 " And Senhor Forro refused you the money, 
 and gave out that he had no funds of Mr. Clost- 
 ing ."' said Robert, again interrupting the " ex- 
 emplary wife." 
 
 The embarrassment of the lady increased at 
 these words of the young merchant, who had 
 sufticient knowledge of affairs and of the world, 
 to see through the circumstances. 
 
 " Some misunderstanding must have taken 
 place, Senhor Roberto, for I assure you that my 
 husband " 
 
 " And the mother-in-law came then instead 
 of Mr. Forro, and declared that no credit was 
 opened for you ? I will anticipate you, and re- 
 late to you what further occurred. The baron 
 appeared again — repeated his visits — ottered 
 his services to you, as the friend of your hus- 
 band, to make an advance to you — and there- 
 upon appeared this low woman, as a friend of the 
 baron " 
 
 " My God !" interrupted she, " you know the 
 whole story, then ? Through whom ? if I may 
 ask, through whom did you learn it.' not from 
 Dr. Thorfin .'" 
 
 " From you ! Senhora ; from yourself, since 
 you have just told me enough to enable me ' to 
 read the rest on the leaves of a banana.' The 
 bad woman made her appearance as mediatrix, 
 and by degrees came forward with certain pro- 
 positions^with base, shameful importunities ? 
 Have I guessed it !" 
 
 The unfortunate woman sat suffused with 
 purple at the recollection of a baseness which 
 the youth had exactly and truly pointed out 
 Her wounded feelings at length found expres- 
 sion in bitter tears. " You have truly delinea- 
 ted my terrible situation, Senhor Roberto, but 
 you do not yet know the end," continued she, 
 when she had at length recovered com])Osure. 
 " Think of the unheard of audacity of the baron, 
 as he calls himself. Instead of considering 
 himself as dismissed by the answers which I 
 repeatedly gave to the negotiatrix, he appeared 
 himself, took me by surprise, so to say, in my 
 own house — and wished — to force money upon 
 me." She was again interrupted by tears, and 
 at length continued again : " Senhor Moreto, 
 whom your uncle knows, is my relation ; I hur- 
 ried to him, and sought protection, without 
 naming the baron. There existed a relation be- 
 tween him and my husband that was not agree- 
 able to me: all sorts of calumnies, even before 
 my marriage, intrigues of those who envied my 
 husband, especially of some young Brazilians 
 wlio — who were very polite to me " 
 
 " 1 can understand it all ;" concluded Robert, 
 " gallant young men who desired to possess your 
 hand, told the truth to your uncle in relation to 
 Mr. Closting !" 
 
 " The truth!" cried the "exemplary wife," 
 " Senhor Roberto ! what do you mean by that 1" 
 and her high forehead drew itself into wrinkles 
 between the eyebrows. " You cannot surely 
 believe that my husband ?" 
 
 " Pardon me, Senhora," interrupted he, " I
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 227 
 
 believe that you love your husband, as only a 
 wife can love her husband." 
 
 " I — I — I love my husb:ind ?" returned she in 
 a confusion which spread a paleness over her 
 countenance; " I — love him? 1 can neither love 
 him nor esteem him — horrible ! Oh, God !"' 
 sifthed she. "Oh, if I could bi'.t love him as 
 he loves me ! if you only knew how he clings 
 to me — how he- — ■" 
 
 Robert arose ; the lady seized him convulsively 
 by the hand. " Senhor Roberto !"' sighed she, 
 as she arose also, and as it were literally held f.ist 
 to him. " Fort;ive me ! forgive me ! for He.iven's 
 sake do not misapprehend me ; I beseech you do 
 not! no! I do not — love him. He has — disap- 
 pointed me. He should havecllosen a different 
 woman — quite different — -not a woman of senti- 
 ment— not a woman that — had a heart — like 
 this." 
 
 She said these words, and gazed fixedly before 
 her. Pressing his arm with her right hand, she 
 leaned her left, and her forehead, on his shoul- 
 der. Her limbs seemed to fail. 
 
 Robert trembled. " Sit down, Senhora. Will 
 you go into your room ' Shall I give you my 
 arm .'" 
 
 No ! no ! not in my room — I will finish — my 
 relation — you must know all. My uncle then, 
 as I call Senhor Moreto, reproached me about 
 my marriage ; there was a violent scene ; but he 
 took my part as a man, and proposed to me to 
 occupy this pavilion, which belonged to him. I 
 had hardly moved in here, when the baron dis- 
 covered my asylum, perhaps through my ne- 
 gresses, who are obliged to go into the city occa- 
 sionally, and whom he has followed at a distance ; 
 perhaps even by ray committing the imprudence 
 of playing the mehuly which 1 designated to 
 you. Enough ; he endeavored to force himself in 
 here, and one .evening, very late, nothing else 
 remained for me, but to fire a pistol through the 
 garden gate above his head." 
 
 " Why did you not aim. lower .'" inquired the 
 J'oung Briton, " he is not very broad, to be sure, 
 but you might then perhaps have hit him some- 
 where." 
 
 " You arc acquainted with him then — you know 
 of whom 1 speak .'" 
 
 " Of the Baron de Spandau," answered Robert, 
 " and I thank you, with all my heart, that you 
 have given me this information. The miserable 
 fellow has sneaked into our house. I know his 
 views." 
 
 " I concealed even from my uncle the name of 
 the scoundrel who persecuted me, because 1 — 
 because I did not want to accuse Iiim, as he was 
 an acquaintance of my husband and my uncle." 
 " I can account for that ! and admire your de- 
 licate consideration for a fellow who does not 
 deserve it." 
 
 " You now understand, noble Senhor Roberto, 
 the ground of my petition that you will remain 
 here, until my husband comes. If 1 — if 1 even 
 
 do not love him ; he is yet a good man, and " 
 
 " You just said, however, that he had deceived 
 you ! and whoever deceives a woman, acts, 
 in my opinion, neither honorably nor well." 
 
 " Pardon me ! he loves me indeed ! as well 
 as he can love. He provides for me, however, 
 and for our children." 
 
 Robert made a movement to withdraw. 
 
 " Stay ! stay ! Senhor Roberto, stay by me !" 
 
 cried the unfortunate. " I mean do not go away ! 
 do not forsake me !" She uttered the last words 
 with such deep feeling, that Robert could not find 
 it in his heart for the moment to deny such a re- 
 quest. 
 
 '* Senhora Gracia!" answered he, after a pause, 
 in a decided tone, " I will then remain here 
 until— until Mr. Closting returns, upon one con- 
 dition." 
 
 " Whatever it may be, I will comply with it." 
 
 " Upon the condition, then, that you never 
 mention your husband in my presence— never 
 allude to your relation to him — never ! Either 
 not speak another word to me from this hour, 
 except what the usual salutation of a neighbor 
 requires, or never mention that man's name to 
 me again. Do not require others to respect him, 
 whom you yourself cannot respect. You must 
 either avoid him or me. Do not condemn me to 
 the most horrible fate with which a man was 
 ever burdened. Decide for yourself and for me." 
 
 " I promise you that I will decide," sighed the 
 unfortunate woman, pressing his hand convul- 
 sively, and gazed with a moistened glance into 
 his eyes. Her forhead was near his lips, she 
 felt his breath ; both trembled. It was night. 
 Robert lowered his head ; she lingered near him 
 as if his pulse was hers. As if awakening from 
 a dream, Robert rose and attended her to the door 
 of her pavilion ; she tottered into her apartment ; 
 her protector entered his, where he threw him- 
 self on his divan, sunk in that chaos of feelings 
 which now prevailed in him, to work out his 
 eventful future. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 ALL SORTS OF COMMUNICATIONS. 
 
 Horatio and Alvarez went from the palace 
 of the negro from Goa, to their abode at Dr. 
 Thorfin's, the mediator of their conne.vion with 
 Dolores, to whom, in such a case, they would 
 certainly have gladly spoken in person. After 
 they had made their northern friend acquainted 
 with this singular invitation, and what had oc- 
 casioned it, the question arose whether it would 
 be proper to discover to the plenipotentiary the 
 present abode of the exile. Hinango, who al- 
 most every evening, at least for a moment, sought 
 his friends, in case they did not visit him upon 
 St. Theresa, came in just as the matter was 
 under discussion. He was " on business," as 
 Dolores was translating some fragments of a lite- 
 rary work of " Young Europe," which passed 
 from hand to hand through Thorfin, and was set 
 up by Alvarez in a French printing office, to be 
 despatched to Rio Grande. Dr. Thorfin delivered 
 the manuscript which he received from Dolores, 
 and Alvarez carried a proof sheet with him. 
 But Hinango was soon diverted from his business 
 by the communication to him of what had taken 
 place in the Rua do Valongo. 
 
 " At any rate I will endeavor to procure a 
 private interview with Dolores to-morrow," con- 
 tinued Dr. Thorfin, in their general consultation, 
 " though it is every day becoming more difficult. 
 Since we, as it seems, have no treachery to fear
 
 m 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 on the part of Senlior Vera, Dolores may per- 
 haps desire to confide in him, to receive the 
 information about the relation of Senhor Garrin- 
 go? to her deceased mother. I am myself not 
 the less curious to procure an explanation of 
 this affair, as lately a circumstance surprised me 
 in conversation with Dolores. We were talking 
 about magnetism in Miss Susan's presence, who 
 considers the belief in magnetic power ' sinful.' 
 Dolores smiled, and observed: 'Tlie priests in 
 Spain were likewise of that opinion,' but sud- 
 denly recovered herself, however, and returned 
 to her role of 'Miss Fanny' before me, and 
 merely asked me, iff knew a brochure, the old- 
 est and fir.^t that Mesmer had published about 
 his discovery .' I replied to her by repeating the 
 title : ' Memoires sur la Decouverte dii Magne- 
 tisme animal,' under Mesmer's name — in the 
 titlepage, ' Geneve e! Paris, 1779.' She seemed 
 as if she wished to say more, but her incognito did 
 not admit of it. Miss Susan had already remarked 
 that her niece was acquainted with a great many 
 worldly books, and, in short, believed in animal 
 magnetism — what no ' church' allowed. 
 
 " ' Because al! the miraculous cures that Jesas 
 performed would then admit of explanation,' 
 added I ; and Aunt Susan would gladly have or- 
 dered me instantly thrown out of the window. 
 
 " Whether the intimated persecirtion in Spain 
 stands in connexion with the incognito of the 
 physician in Goa, 1 hope soon to leam. I know 
 so much as this, that a Jesuit in Vienna, Pater 
 Hell, and an Englishman by the name of Ingen- 
 hnuse, endeavored, by all sorts of intrigue, to ap- 
 propriate to their objects the discovery of Mes- 
 mer, and to announce it as their own ; another 
 interesting example, by the way, that a Jesuit 
 and a Briton often pursue the same path, and 
 endeavor to aiTive before each other at the goal." 
 
 " We have also to do with them both, here in 
 South America," said Hinango, smiling, " and I 
 do not know which is the bitterest foe to the 
 fu*"ure of this country'. As concerns Dolores, she 
 is at present in gi-caterand more especial danger 
 from a good Briton, who has taken into his head 
 the idea of man'ying her." 
 
 " Are you at length convinced of that .'" in- 
 quired Dr. Thorfin, laughing. 
 
 " From all that I hear by yon, and must con- 
 clude from the conduct of the old widower, I 
 have not a doubt remaining ; and I cannot see, 
 what is to be done, to save Dolores." 
 
 " Unless particular circumstances intervene, 
 nothing, nothing is to be feared for the present," 
 observed Thorfin, " for Mr. George goes slowly 
 to work, that he may the more surely attain his 
 object. What is odd in this whole affair is, that 
 the old man as confidently believes in the carry- 
 ing out of his ' fixed idea,' as if Dolores really 
 stood with him at the altar." 
 
 The friends were interrupted in their conver- 
 sation, by an old acquaintance from the mouth 
 of the La Plata, Patrick Gcntleboy, who had 
 sought Hinango, without finding him, on St. 
 Theresa. He already nearly knew the haunts 
 of his future cajitain, and found him where he 
 hid expected. 
 
 Patrick, with the aid of Captain Finngreen, 
 converted the cutter which Barigaldi had pre- 
 sented to him, secretly into money, without ex- 
 citing observation, and accepted Hinango's pro- 
 
 posal to enter into his service, aa he Was n^c- 
 tiating for the purchase of the schooner brig 
 Vesta, and could then employ him on board as 
 port guard. Until then, he kept secret his ac- 
 quaintance with the stout red-haired Irishman, 
 not to increase the suspicions of the Baron de 
 Spandau, who had, unfortunately, learned more 
 about the mouth of La Plata, from Dr. Merbold, 
 than was even necessary. 
 
 "I ax pardon, your honor!" began the cap- 
 stan piper, ** 1 have come to your honor about 
 something, quite intirely by ordinary " 
 
 "Now !" said Hinango, what's the matter ? 
 what news ?" 
 
 " Faith, your honor, that has happened to me 
 that an ould sailor does not often meet with. I 
 am promoted from the foremast to a horse, or 
 rather to the stable. By yoOr honor's lave, I'll 
 just tell ye what I mane. This morning 1 wa^ 
 sitting with Jemmy O'Halloran, my landlord, 
 and a countryman, too, from ould Ireland, your 
 honor, when in comes a spalpeen that spoke 
 some sort of English, your honor, and he stare? 
 at me like a sailor at the land he is steering for, 
 and then he turns about, and makes his course 
 for Jemmy O'Halloran, that was behind the bar, 
 your honor, and cries, ' Ship ahoy !' and takes a 
 glass of cachaz,* and then goes on to speak him 
 without trumpet, and axes if he doesn't know a 
 man, may be a sailor, that could take a sarvice 
 on shore. He said he knew somebody that 
 could employ such a man. ' There sits a man 
 that looks like a sailor,' said my countryman. 
 Jemmy O'Halloran, and winks at me, becase he 
 knowed well enough that the fellow meant me, 
 he saw that, as well as I, your honor ! But I 
 won't tire your honor with a loi^ig yarn, but go 
 into port at the rate oi' * nine knots an hour !' 
 The Dutchman, Baron de Spandau, wants to 
 make a groom of me ! Did your honor evei 
 hear the like of that ! captain .' And so I went 
 to look for you, becase the air didn't look jist 
 clear to me ; there's a bank ahind, a bank of 
 clouds, and there's a storm brewing, I'll lay any 
 wager, begging your honor's pardon ! 
 
 " Did the baron inquire what ship you came 
 in .'" interrupted Hinango. 
 
 " To be sure, your honor ; he ased more ques- 
 tions than aver a Dutchman on the open sea, 
 when he meets a vessel after a hundred days 
 voyage ; but I answered him as a smuggler does 
 a custom house cutter. I s:iid 1 had been at sea 
 two years with Captain West, in the Rose of Peru, 
 and last with Captain Drewes of the barque Julia, 
 of Hamburgh and was only waiting here for 
 news of my brother Tom, from the coast of Pata- 
 gonia ; and when he wanted to see my papers, 
 I told him that the cursed Brazilian rats, that 
 here in port run over your feet, had eaten up my 
 tin box with all the papers, and my sail maker's 
 thimble into the bargain. He told me — the t>aron 
 I mane , your honor — that he wanted to get a tioat, 
 or a shallop, to fish here in the bay, and axed me 
 would I he his boatswain, and for the present I 
 could find employment here in the stable with 
 the care of his hor-ses. 1 told him that I was 
 not willing to have any thing to do with a four- 
 legged cratt that carried the bowsprit behind 
 and steered by the head. The thing didn't plase 
 me at all, at all, and so I tmild him, but 1 woul.l 
 
 • Brazilian white mm.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 22d 
 
 tliint aliout it, and so I came straight to look for 
 yoiir lionor. Do you know what I suspect, cap- 
 tain? what the spalpeen wants? He wants to 
 use me for a spy ! and I'm all ready, at his 
 liarvice !" 
 
 The friends smiled, and looked at each other. 
 Patrick continued : 
 
 " If tlie spal[)een of a baron takes me to be 
 stupid, and bad enough to sarve him as a spy, I 
 will do it ; but I'll s.in'e him in such away tliat 
 he shall have something to tell of! I'll act as 
 stupid as he thinks rne ; 1 tried it on him to-day 
 alreL-dy. I axed liim if he could tell me where 
 the English governor here lived. ' You matie 
 the ambassador,' sez he. ' No, your honor, the 
 governor,' sez I, ' for sure there must be an 
 English governor upon an English island !' and 
 then he tells me that tiie country here was not 
 an island, and that the name of it was Brazil, 
 and that a prince lived here ! I gave him many 
 thanks for telling me, and jiromised to give him 
 an answer after 1 found out how much 1 was 
 owing to my landlord, and came away from the 
 Hotel Farouge, where he lives, the Dutch spal- 
 peen ! 
 
 " Now, your honor, what d'ye say tillit ? will 
 I take the place ? for he axed me if I had not 
 lately been on La Plata river? accidentally as a 
 passenger may be ? I axed him if the La Plata 
 river ran round Cape Horn, or in amongst the 
 West Indies, and then sure the leak in my skull 
 was plain enough for a blind man to see." 
 
 " Do you not think that he knows well enough 
 how you came here, if he wishes to lake you 
 into his service ?" inquired Dr. Thorfin. 
 
 "I don't doubt it at all, at all, your honor," 
 replied Patrick, turning his flat straw hat like a 
 tiller rope before him ; " ought I to tell him, 
 tlien ? 1 ax pardon, your honor, but ought 1 to 
 tell the Dutch spalpeen 1 am Patrick iVIcCaffray, 
 from the .Ar-gentile man of war ? the same that 
 shot down the officer on board tlie cutter, when 
 the Mazzini came up with us, and when we 
 were ordered to lilow up the schooner? ought I 
 to say that your honor ? and have myself sliut up 
 in prison here at the command of the Ar-gentile 
 consul, or ambassador, or whatever he may be ?" 
 
 " Certainly," observed Hinango, " you could 
 not well do otherwise than briefly deny that you 
 ever had been in cjDmmunication with us." 
 
 " And begging your honor's pardon, I have 
 always heard that whoever wants to make his 
 way on shore, must appear stupid, stupid as 
 possible, and then he will do the best." 
 
 " Vou may be in the right," interrupted Hi- 
 nango, " but the baron lias undoubtedly remark- 
 ed that you are not so stuijid as you wish to 
 appear." 
 
 " And begging your honors' pardon, it is ex- 
 actly such people, that ar'n't just as stupid as 
 they are thick or long, and know' how to turn 
 their stupidity to account, that can sail in all 
 water, and don't run so easily upon sand and 
 reefs." 
 
 The friends looked at each other again, and 
 smiled their approbation of the Irishman's wit. 
 
 " As the Dutchman found out where I was, 
 I'm sartin he knows who 1 am, and what use he 
 wants to make of me 1 know very well ; for 
 tnayhap he commands a signal ship here on 
 fliwe, that reports at Buenos Ayres or else- 
 wheit!, and he wants people to look out, and 
 
 see what sails pass. But I must keep olcso 
 when I once enter the sarvice. 1 cannot come 
 here any more, nor see you, captain, but must 
 keep a report cutter, and I have one already 
 under sail. There is a seamstress sits with 
 the daughter "f my landlord, an Irish girl too, 
 she is, and her mother wasltes for us sailors ; 
 her name is Lucy, and she's a nate honest girl. 
 She must, by your lave, take care of your hon- 
 or's linen, and go in and out of your house ; you 
 understand ; and when I liave anything to tell 
 your honor, 1 will tell it by Lucy." 
 
 ** Have you already made such acquaintance 
 with her that you can count upon Lucy, Pat- 
 rick ?" inquired Uiaango, " that slie will not 
 deceive you ? " 
 
 " Oh ! as to that, captain, I'll risk my head on 
 Lucy, f<ir isn't slie an Irish girl, and all she 
 wants to know is, that there is a young lady from 
 La Plata river in danger, as I saw pretty plainly 
 when I was behind you in the Ar-genlile brig. 
 Lucy need only kiiosv the part that Pat Gentle- 
 boy played in tlie cutter, and she will show that 
 she's an Irish girl, I'll answer lor it!" 
 
 The friends again exchanged glances, and in- 
 dicated more by looks than words, their appro- 
 bation of all that the gallant liishman proposed. 
 
 " Here, captain, here is the tin case with my 
 papers," continued Patrick ; " the baron must 
 not find these upon me ; keep them till your 
 next muster roll, and let my name stand in your 
 memo-raundum as boatswain for your schooner 
 brig. .She's an inviting little thing, the "Vanda ! 
 1 looked at her yesterday at a distance. She 
 desarves to have a boatswain like Patrick Mc- 
 Caffray." 
 
 Dr. Thorfin summoned a negro, to hand a glass 
 of \vine to tlie honest fellow, who took it with 
 thanks, and " poured it over the ballast in his 
 hull," as he expressed himself. 
 
 " Then captain, it's a bargain that I'm to sarve 
 you as an informer, and the baron is to pay me 
 for it ; and the money for my cutter Mr. Walker 
 has got, and the obiiquidation papers you will 
 find in the tin box." 
 
 Hinango hastily examined the papers that 
 were committed to his keeping, and found all in 
 the best order. He thanked Patrick for his con- 
 fidence, and especially for his diligence in serv- 
 ing the good cause after such an original fashion. 
 " But are you not afraid that the baron will send 
 you to Buenos Avres ?" 
 
 " Me ! Pat Geiitleboy, is it, that he'll be after 
 sending me to Buenos Ayres?" said he, laugh- 
 ing ; " and faith, befiire he'll do that he must 
 have me to send; and before he, or three of his 
 fellows, or even a dozen, take me alive, the 
 blood will run from some of them, I promise 
 your honor ! No, captain, they don't hang a 
 man at the yard until thoy have him ; and in the 
 mane wliilst, I'll take care they don't catch you, 
 or the}oung l.idy from La Plata river ! that shall 
 be my business, and Lucy will come to you, 
 to take care of your linen. Farewell, captain ' 
 Farewell to your honors ! " said he to the three 
 others, and hastily withdrew. 
 
 Dolores had lived, until this time, in Mr. 
 Thomson's country house, at Beta Fogo, in tran- 
 quil retirement, as his niece, and found her sit- 
 uation, if not exactly agreeable, yet endurable. 
 iShe occupied herself, uninterruptedly, with
 
 280 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 literar}' labors, arranged a collection of her 
 poems for an edition, and filled up the time 
 which she had to spare from her own produc- 
 tions, by translating Childe Harold, as she in- 
 tended to translate tlie wliole of Lord Byron's 
 works into her mother tongue. 
 
 Severely as Miss Susan might cry out against 
 such unheard of proceedings, and exclaim about 
 the Catholic who had evidently been conceived 
 and born in heathendom, Dolores had, neverthe- 
 less, known how to secure her nioral indepen- 
 dence from the beginning. At the first oppor- 
 tunity that a loud remark of Aunt Susan in 
 presence of Mr. Thomson afforded, she declared, 
 with the decision peculiar to her, according to 
 her rule, however, of tlie betrothed of Robert 
 towards his aunt ; 
 
 " I yield, under existing circumstances, to the 
 parting from my friend Robert, because my po- 
 sition requires it. The sacrifice I make must 
 be conceivable to you — do not require yet 
 greater. I was, so to say, brought up with your 
 niece, Miss Fanny, and have learned and stu- 
 died the English language and literature aa my 
 own." 
 
 " Good heavens !" interrupted Miss Susan, 
 " you have studied English literature ?" 
 
 " And entertain the highest reverence for 
 your authors and poets, especially those who are 
 misconceived in England, and only in part un- 
 derstood, like Byron." 
 
 Mis? Susan shrank back at this name, and ex- 
 claimed, with a glance at her brother, " Lord 
 have mercy upon us, you have then even Byron's 
 works among your books !" 
 
 "And am translating his Childe Harold into 
 Spanish, and shall dedicate the edition to my 
 Robert." 
 
 The old widower twitched his face, as if an 
 enormous beetle had suddenly alighted upon his 
 cheek ; not on account of the literary occupation, 
 which he allowed to take care oi" itself until 
 after his marriage — lie was merely shocked and 
 thunderstruck by the words, " my Robert." Al- 
 though absolute necessity required, in relation 
 to the aunt, that Dolores should, with all con- 
 sistency, carry out the part of the betrothed of 
 his nephew, there could hardly have been found 
 a more painful situation for Mr. Thomson, than 
 the one which compelled him to have this mask 
 of betrothal daily before his eyes. He hoped, 
 or rather firmly believed, that nothing would 
 sland in the way of his realizing, in his own 
 time, liis anticipated courtship of liolores, when 
 some months had passed, which would certainly 
 be necessary, that such a step might not be con- 
 sidered as "youthful precipitancy" on his part. 
 
 So far as he had hitherto been able to observe, 
 he had certainly not discovered the slightest 
 ground of suspicion that a love relation sub- 
 sisted between Dolores and Robert, a consolation 
 that at times made the sight of the mask en- 
 durable. Robert, to be sure, made his appear- 
 ance regularly several times a week, and deport- 
 ed himself, in presence of his aunt, towards 
 Dolores, as her betrothed ; a demeanor which, 
 delicate and discreet, as it ever was, occasionally 
 made the old widower's hair stand on end, es- 
 pecially when ho kissed her on the forehead at 
 parting. To the reiterated consolation of Mr. 
 Thomson, Robert not only in general very soon 
 departed, but appeared at thelea table, as' in tlie 
 
 garden, always qnrte strangely occupied witb 
 himself — absent minded — somewhere else. 
 
 Mr. Thomson obsei'ved more and more sharp- 
 ly, and by degrees beheld, iii the far, far distance 
 a beacon towaids wliich Mr. Robert had directed 
 his course, although the port was blockaded by 
 a hostile legitimate navy. 
 
 People like Mr. George, who, notwithstand- 
 ing their " youthful age," have sailed for full 
 forty yeai-s laden with matrimonial thoughts, 
 have, for the most part, a particularly sharp eye 
 for recognising vessels, far and near, bound on a 
 similar course ; if, on the otlier hand, many steer 
 for the altar, without carrying love as ballast, 
 many sail laden with love, who must renounce 
 it in anticipation if they would ever enter the 
 port of matrimony. 
 
 Mr. George took occasion to inquire of Dolo- 
 res, in a confidential tone, as ancle and friend, 
 whether Robert had left a so called " acquaint- 
 ance " behind in Buenos AjTes ; and learned 
 that his nephew, so far as Dolores knew, had 
 held, except with her and her sister, little or no 
 intercourse with young ladies, and had passed 
 most of his leisure hours in their society. The 
 sensation which this information excited in the 
 old widower was divided, in so much as the 
 former observation had satisfied him that no love 
 understanding existed between Robert and Do- 
 lores, if, on the other hand, the aS'air still ap- 
 peared suspicious to him. 
 
 Accident at length showed him the beacon in 
 the far distance, as the talkative baron once 
 turned the conversation upon Mr. Robert's 
 neighbor and the latter, from youthful dif- 
 fidence, or awkwardness, could not prevent a 
 sadden flush, which, besides his uncle, nobody 
 present observed. 
 
 A light then suddenly dawned upon the old 
 man, as we have said — tlie beacon, probably, 
 towards which his nephew was steering his 
 course. The result of a business transaction 
 that should suddenly have brought him half a 
 million, would not have surprised him so joy- 
 fully, so consolingly, and so tranquiUizingly, as 
 this discovery. He had learned, incidentally, 
 from Sr. Moreto, that tliis young neighbor waj 
 a young lady of the highest rtsjiectabi/ity, and 
 he required to know no more. If shfe were un- 
 married, or a widow, so much the better ; if slie 
 were a wife seeking a divorce, (for Sr. Moreto 
 had already intimated that she was there on 
 legal business,) it was very well This case, 
 even, was no misfortune ! whatever might be the 
 circumstances of the young lady, it was enough 
 for the old man that Robert, as it appeared, had 
 directed his eye upon her instead of Dolores. 
 All the rest was, and remained, tt) the old expe- 
 rienced matrimonial practitioner, a secondary 
 matter — entirely a secondary matter — which 
 would finally admit of being accomplished by 
 the means which were at Robert's command, iu 
 case ui need, and which had already set aside 
 far greater difficulties than proceedings for di- 
 vorce and the like. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin sought an interview with Dolores 
 on the day after -Alvarez had revealed to him 
 the communication of the negro from Goa, and 
 availed himself of some moments in the srard'-n, 
 while Miss Susan had withdra-^n to her rotta
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 331 
 
 Dolores appeared in the highest degree sur- 
 prised and affected by the news from Goa. 
 
 " What relation existed between my mother 
 and Gabriel Garringos in Madrid, was always a 
 riddle to me," said she, after long reflection. " I 
 will impart to you what 1 know. I once found, 
 after my motlier's death, a little book — the title 
 of which you lately mentioned to me correctly — 
 among some of my mother's papers that she had 
 kept carefully put away. In this book was 
 written the name of ' Gabriel Garringos, Dr. 
 Med., Madrid, ISIU ;' and I learned, in answer 
 to my a little too naive questions, that the phy- 
 sician was a friend of my mother, who treated 
 her in a nervous sickness, and had saved her life 
 by magnetism. I admit that this science was 
 at that time strange to me, and I first obtained 
 an intimation of this mysterious sphere through 
 that little book. 
 
 " I heard, from, a friend of my mother, that 
 she had been in a state of clairvoyance, and had 
 given her physician the most singular informa- 
 tion, which remained entirely strange to her out 
 of the magnetic sleep. She had admitted that 
 she experienced a wonderful personal inclina- 
 tion for her physician, and knew of his approach 
 even while he was yet at a great distance, or 
 had traced him as he came near the house. She 
 appeared to avoid looking back upon this situa- 
 tion and these relations, or at least to speak of 
 them unwillingly. I only learned that the cir- 
 cumstances which controlled her at that time, 
 made the separation from her friend obligatory, 
 which suddenly anJ inexplicably took place. 
 The phenomenon of animal magnetism in the 
 person of the young physician, however secret 
 it was kept, had drawn upon him the observa- 
 tion of the ecclesiastics, and his life was in 
 danger. The fate of her friend remained ob- 
 scure, and up to this hour no one in Spain or in 
 South America knows in what manner the mag- 
 netizer was saved, or put out of the way, who, 
 on the night of the 24th of May, 1S12, did not 
 arrive at home, after having left the residence of 
 my grandfather about teu o'clock. 
 
 " That is all that I ever knew about Dr. Gar- 
 ringos. The illness of my mother had vanished. 
 She soon after accompanied her father back to 
 Buenos Ayrcs, and was married. If 1 judge cor- 
 rectly, from many passages of her fragmentary 
 correspondence, so far as I became acquainted 
 with it afterward, this mysterious inclination for 
 Garringos, which she endeavored to struggle 
 against as a consequence of her sickness itself, 
 disapf)eared after her marriage ; but awakened 
 afterward, as a friend has since assured me. Some 
 years after my birth, my mother lost her health, 
 and died when I w;is about ten years old." 
 
 Dr. ThorSn heard this communication with 
 fixed attention, and then inquired : 
 
 " Wliat is your determination in regard to the 
 confidant of Dr. Garringos ? May I inform him 
 of your abode ?" 
 
 ' According to all that Alvarez has informed 
 you of, concerning the duplicate of the picture, 
 and the inferences from this letter of attorney, 
 we may confide in him certainly. He ought to 
 know my fate ; and you, doctor, will have the 
 goodness to visit him, with Alvarez, but urge 
 him to strict discretion in regard to my incogni- 
 to." 
 
 " That is a matter of course," answered he, 
 
 hastily, for Aunt Susan approached with a criti- 
 cising air at the long interview of her niece with 
 the foreign doctor, which certainly did not ap- 
 pear absolutely necessary. 
 
 " Present my hearty greetings to Mr. Kobert 
 when you see him," continued Dolores, aloud, 
 and with unconcern, as Aunt Susan approached 
 her, " and my fellow voyagers likewise, all of 
 them. How is Horatio ?" 
 
 " Very well, so far as I know," replied Dr. 
 Thorfin. 
 
 " Have you seen the baron lately ?" inquired 
 Aunt Susan. " He is not ill, 1 hope .'" 
 
 *' So far as I know, the baron is also very well ; 
 I shall probably meet him to-day at the Hotel 
 Faroux." 
 
 ** Give my compliments to him, then ; we hope 
 to have the pleasure of seeing you both on Sun- 
 day." 
 
 " I thank you Miss Thomson, on my own part ; 
 I will have the honor ; and will then take the 
 liberty to bring you the book of which we were 
 just speaking," added he to Dolores. 
 
 " What sort of a book ?" inquired the quasi 
 gouvernante, of the poetess, with pardonable 
 female curiosity. 
 
 " 'Spiridion,' the last work of Madame Sand," 
 answered Dr. Thorfin, to the vexation of the 
 lean aunt. 
 
 " Of Madame Sand ! Do you read the books 
 of Madame Sand, Miss Fanny .'" 
 
 " I consider Madame Sand as the first author- 
 ess of our epoch, and there are few men who can 
 stand beside her." 
 
 " Shocking !" sighed the well educated Eng- 
 lishwoman ; " translates Byron, and reads Ma- 
 dame Sand," added she, half aloud. " Did I ever 
 hear any thing like it ?" 
 
 Dr. Thorfin now took leave, and left the poet- 
 ess to the ill humor of her gouvernante, which 
 mounted higher than ever, since Dr. Thorfin had 
 named an authoress, whose philosophical work, 
 ' Spiridion,' would be alone sufficient to immor- 
 talize her name in the literature of her nation. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE MOONUGHT NIGHT. 
 
 It was such a tropical moonlight night as sur- 
 rounded the two pavilions when we first beheld 
 the desecrated wife on her divan. Two months 
 had passed by since then. 
 
 The dense foliage of the groups of trees on the 
 declivity of the hill, formed broad masses of 
 shadow, above which the magically lighted land- 
 scape appeared in wonderful magnificence. Tire 
 distant mountains raised their dark and downy 
 summits to the star sprinkled sky, and the bay, 
 like a mirror of polished crystal, displayed the 
 reflection of the moon, whose light formed the 
 glistening pearls and diamonds of the silver veil, 
 that was hardly ruflied by a zephyr. Here and 
 there a boat floated slowly towards the shore at 
 the foot of the hill, and with every sti-oke of the 
 oar, that sounded clearly and distinctly in the 
 deathlike silence, a phosphorescent gleam, like 
 flaming oil, dripped back into the watery ele-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 mpnt, and again expired on the almost motionless 
 surface. 
 
 Hundreds of masically shining insects flitted 
 throuijh the deep dark foliage of the perfuming 
 coHee shrubs and blossoming orange trees, 
 whose aroma, mingled with that of innumerable 
 other blossoms, filled the atmosphere, and afford- 
 ed a bUs.imic odor, which, as it were, strength- 
 ened the breast and the heart, while the magic 
 forms of the landscape fettered the eye, and 
 elevated the soul i]> blissful contemplation. 
 
 Star upon star sparkled immediately in the 
 neighborhood of the moon, and the myriads of 
 orbs filled the blue of ether to a glittering, co- 
 lourless expansion of the idea space, in unfath- 
 omable boundlessness. 
 
 The harmony of a composition of Beethoven, 
 ■audible for miles in the slumbering distance, 
 resounded through the silent night from the 
 pianoforte of Robert, who, at the side of his 
 friend, animated the strings. 
 
 Both played. The spirits of both appeared to 
 float upward, on the wings of tone, to Saturn, to 
 the natal sphere of spiritual melody. The 
 hands of both moved as if guided by inward har- 
 mony, which diffused itself through their being, 
 even to the nervous fluid of the finger ends that 
 glided over the keys. Both, as with a spiritual 
 glance, looked over the passages and runs of the 
 composition, whose mysterious expression, no 
 written music is able to give — which no master 
 can teach, and no scholar can learn, if the soul 
 do not comprehend the melody, and return it 
 from itself, as there occurred in the four-handed 
 execution from the musical dream-world, in the 
 pavilion of the serious youth and the unfortu- 
 nate Brazilian lady. 
 
 Slow, and still slower, sounded and lingered 
 the final accord, in trembling pianissimo, and 
 the last note floated off, and expired in the far, 
 far distance, in the motionless, deathlike si- 
 lence. 
 
 Both looked at each other, from an involun- 
 tary impulse, to confirm, by a glance, what the 
 spiritual harmony had so undeniably expressed 
 in tones. 
 
 " Ah ! if you could always accompany me 
 thus ; always !" sighed Gracia, reaching her hand 
 involuntarily to her friend. 
 
 Robert's eyes received Ihe ray of hers : it 
 seemed a magnetic band, embodied as a ray, even 
 though invisible, and soul appeared to stream 
 forth into soul. 
 
 " If I could accompany you for ever, remain 
 near you for ever !" sighed the unfortunate, agiin 
 repeating the earnest pressure of the hand she 
 held. 
 
 " We are separated upon earth," at length the 
 youth found words to say ; " separated until 
 death !" and he arose, as if he would remove in- 
 to the air. 
 
 The lady also rose from her seat, stared before 
 her with motionless eyelids, then started back, 
 and shuddered. 
 
 " l^d pardon me the thought ! God pardon it 
 to me ; how it ruslie<l through me I cannot my- 
 self conceive," said she, slowly, and in a low 
 tone. 
 
 " What thought ?" inquired Robert, with an 
 agitated voice, for the glance of the sufferer 
 shocked him. Her countenance, lighted by the 
 bright beams of the moon, grew as pale as the 
 
 face of a corpse, only an inexpressible brilliaricy 
 lingered about the eye; her lips quivered ; with 
 folded hands she stood there like a statue — a 
 supplicating angel. 
 
 " I entreat you, tell me what suddenly struck 
 you ; confide it to me ?" said Robert, after he 
 had contemplated her for a long time, as if with 
 holy reverence. 
 
 " A thought that is frightful, but which ye' 
 awakened within me, as the most inward desire of 
 my soul. I wished to be changed into a lizard, 
 still preserving my spiritual existence, that 1 
 might accompany you everywhere — to glide 
 around you everywhere, even although unno- 
 ticed by you ; to hide myself at evening over 
 against you, like these, and peep forth from my 
 hiding-place, and merge my glance in yours, as 
 these are looking out upon us from behind your 
 books." 
 
 " Great God !" sighed Robert, lost in the 
 depth of the abyss, from which had ascended 
 this thought of discon3»">late despair, of uncon- 
 querable longing. " What have I done ? what 
 crime have I committed, that 1 have awakened 
 a sentiment in you which I dare not return ':" 
 
 " And you do not return, because you ' will' 
 not return it," added the woman, with a sharp 
 intonation. 
 
 " Senhora !" cried the youth, in an excited 
 voice, " Senhora, do not taunt me ! If I have 
 hitherto given no utterance to the sentiments 
 which rage within me, which are even destroy- 
 ing me, it is because I recognise the position in 
 which we stand in the world, and before the 
 world !'' 
 
 " Before the world !" inten-upted she, with a 
 tone of scornful contempt ; " before the world ! 
 Ah! if you could suspect how far the world — what 
 we designate with this wretched word — how far 
 the world, with its judgement and condemnation, 
 lies below me now ! how indifferent men have 
 become to me, with all their scorn and uncharita- 
 bleness! Oh, you suspect not what has passed 
 within me until now, since I — since I knew you, 
 since I have only lived in you, ai*i must be ever 
 and eternally, as if fettered, as if bound, in your 
 neighborhood ! Is the world capable of con- 
 demning me ? of judging me? a world that does 
 not comprehend me ?" added she, with an ex- 
 pression of elevated dignity." Robert was silent. 
 
 " I do not know what has liappened to me, 
 since you have been about me, by what influence 
 you have operated upon me." 
 
 " Will you not allow me to utter the same 
 inquiry .'" said the youth. 
 
 " iS'o 1 no ! Robert ! that 1 will not allow, for 
 you would do an injustice. Oh ! I well know 
 that 1 possess nothing that could awaken your 
 sentiments. If they are awakened, it is only 
 compassion, and not that feeling which binds me 
 to you ; ah ! that I must not even once express 
 it, name it, much less nom-ish it." She said these 
 woi-ds with thrilling anguish, and pressed her 
 folded hands together with inward despair. 
 
 '* By all that is sacred, you do me injustice '" 
 exclaimed Robert, advancing towards her ; "what 
 demon of diffidence has again taken possession 
 of you, that you despair, as you once despzured 
 five years ago, of being worthy the love of a 
 man — who — who might be worthy of you, and 
 gave yourself away without love, renouncing 
 love ? What is that in vou as woman .'" continued 
 
 ..
 
 DOLORES 
 
 233 
 
 be, in a tone that bordered upon reproach, 
 •'what 19 that inconceivable feelin;^ that expresses 
 ittelfin you as unbelief, as despair of love ? If 
 you do not believe in your heart, if your feelings 
 do not tell you that you are beloved, then you 
 also do not love. The heart feels that it is loved, 
 aiid requires no oath." 
 
 " So may God judge me !" returned Gracia, 
 after a pause, and stretched her folded hands 
 towards heaven ; "so judge me God, if this be 
 not love, that e.xalts my soul !" 
 
 She faltered at these words, and raised her 
 hand to her forehead ; her glance fell ; her limbs 
 tottered. 
 
 " Gracia !" cried the youth, putting his arm 
 round her, as she was evidently near fainting. 
 Her limbs refused their otfice, she sank on Rob- 
 ert's breast, willess, motionless ; her arms hung 
 down as if broken. Her glance, brilliant as be- 
 fore, soared upward to his eyes ; her lips, pale, 
 a.1 if under the kiss of death, quivered and ex- 
 haled the respiration of a stagnating life into the 
 breath of the youth, who, carried away by over- 
 powering feeling, hardly retaining his conscious- 
 nef<8i sank his head lower and lower, and inter- 
 30 
 
 cepted the convulsively quivering soul in hi3 
 breath. 
 
 The eye of the guiltless woman broj^e, as if in 
 a last struggle, and closed as if to a dream. 
 
 Minutes elapsed. "Just Heaven!" she suddenly 
 exclaimed, looking wildJy around her. " Where 
 am I ? What is that .' Is it you Robert ?" As if 
 floating downward from another world, she sud- 
 denly gazed at the youth — and then gradually 
 regained her consciousness — a glance, express- 
 ing the thousand fold contradictions in her mind • 
 the fear of being mistaken, and the delight at the 
 perception of being understood in her unhappy 
 feelings. Despair and joy, belief and doubt, 
 touched Robert's inmost being. 
 
 " For ever !" sighed she, pressing his hand, 
 and sinking on his breast. " I never yet gave my 
 heart. I give it to you for eternity ! 
 
 " For eternity !" repeated she, with a confirm- 
 ing glance, and with the swiftness of an aiTOW 
 she left the pavilion. 
 
 There stood the youth, like a statue, gazing 
 before him, as if he read his unJbrtnnate future; 
 as if he read his sentence of death in the fibree 
 of the straw matting under his feet. 
 
 ■W»»»^#^ &-^*f*^^^r
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 BOOK VI 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FIVE BHIPS AT ANCHOB. 
 
 Some days after the interrupted interview of 
 Dr. Thorfin with Dolores, Alvarez conducted him 
 to the palace in the Rua do Valongo. 
 
 The physician stood long absorbed in contem- 
 plation of the picture, whose twofold existence 
 had occasioned the mental discovery, and now 
 exolained, according to the commission of the 
 exile, what he judged proper concerning her 
 fate. 
 
 " Then she lives here in the neighborhood ?" 
 inquired Senhor Vera, in joyful surprise. 
 
 " In the family of an Englishman at Bota 
 Fogo," replied Thorfin. " Her incognito, how- 
 ever, and peculiar circumstances which it is 
 necessary for us rigidly to observe, will not ad- 
 mit of her receiving a visit from the friend of her 
 uncle. 
 
 " I can understand them," began the negro, 
 " and for the present renounce this pleasure, 
 earnestly as I desire it. Should circumstances 
 occur which may occasion Seiiora Dolores to 
 change her asylum, I bid you to make known to 
 her, that my house stands open for her reception. 
 My daughters live here with me in the society of 
 their governess, and although they bear the Ethi- 
 opian tint, their hearts will vie with those of any 
 English woman in sympathy and respect for 
 the ' niece' of our friend. I have to inform you 
 about the circumstances which have generally 
 been the cause of my commission. 
 
 " Some twenty and odd years ago, Senor Ga- 
 briel de Garringos arrived in Pondjem* under 
 an assumed name. He was recommended to our 
 house. My parents received him with hospi- 
 tality, according to the custom of the country. 
 A mutual friendship soon arose, in which I was 
 included — then but a youth. 
 
 After some years, he first gradually disclosed 
 to us his former position in Europe, and after- 
 wards his inward being. We then learned 
 that the application of animal magnetism was at 
 that time prohibited in some countries of Eu- 
 rope, by church and state, and drew down perse- 
 cutions upon many who treated this discovery 
 
 • The East Indian name of Goa. 
 
 as a science. You may be aware that this myste- 
 rious power has, for a long time, not been un- 
 known in India, and plainly lies at the founda- 
 tion of many compositions of Indian poetry, as, 
 for instance, " Kamrup," and others. Magnetic 
 rapports as a dream life, is not a strange or 
 surprising appearance in India, without being 
 treated as a science, like in Europe. Garringos 
 found many opportunities of pursuing his studies 
 in this department, and after we had observed 
 him, and been astonished at several cures which 
 he undertook in our neighborhood, he revealed 
 to my father and to me what had driven him 
 from Europe. 
 
 " 1 am in possession of several documents, 
 which he confided to me in the certainty that a 
 daughter of his frien.^ was living, whose portrait 
 we see here. These documents may now be de- 
 livered into the hands of Seiiora Dolores, and 
 will, perhaps, not be uninteresting to you like- 
 wise, as you are a physician. One document con- 
 tains, if I may so call it, a peculiar, and perhaps 
 in Europe unknown. System of Magnetism, which 
 may be made public — on condition, however, of 
 keeping secret the name of my friend. 
 
 " From another document, which encloses the 
 history of his inner life, you will perceive that 
 Garringos foresaw (or rather foreknew) the 
 death of his female friend, and then first re- 
 solved to inquire concerning the fate of her 
 daughter, whom he, by a singular spiritual 
 relationship, ranked among the descendants of 
 his own family." 
 
 Dr. Thorfin received the designated papers, 
 whose perusal would interest him the more, as 
 he regarded magnetism as a favorite study. He 
 therefore endeavored to seek an early opportunity 
 to convey the communications to theyoung lady, 
 for whom they were first intended, that he might 
 thereafter digest them at his leisure. 
 
 Senhor Vera touched upon the circumstances 
 of Alvarez, and then again urgently sought for 
 information in regard to the residence of his 
 sister, concerning whose fate he had unfortu- 
 nately learned nothing. 
 
 He declared that he was firmly resolved to go 
 to Bahia, to discover the traces of the young lady 
 by some means, unless he should soon receive a 
 satisfactory answer. He expressed the supposi- 
 tion that the correspondence was probably very
 
 236 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 unsafe, on account of the political relations of 
 Brazil, as many would fear to compromise them- 
 selves by any communications not relating to 
 commercial matters. After a long conversation 
 concerning the circumstances of the family of 
 Garringos, Dr. Thorfin and Alvarez left the 
 palace. The former hastened to Bota Fogo, in 
 tlie hope of being able to deliver to Dolores the 
 papers from Goa ; and the latter directed his 
 ste)is to Hinango's, where he was to meet him 
 and Horatio, for a politcal consultation. 
 
 Hinango's " mission" in South America, which 
 he had taken upon himself, in his peculiar rela- 
 tions to the central committee of Young Europe 
 required some papers to be despatched to Rio 
 Grande, which he could indeed take witli him on 
 board of his well armed vessel, were it not tliat 
 peculiar circumstances, in regard to the safety of 
 l)olores, detained him personally in Rio. 
 
 Horatio and Alvarez, both full of glorious zeal 
 for the cause of their fatherland, vied in offering 
 to undertake the mission to the headquarters of 
 the insurgents, the materials of which had for 
 some time employed them. The translation and 
 copying, and also the preparation for the press, 
 gave them plenty to do. 
 
 Hinango was in negotiation for the purchase of 
 the schooner brig, which had hitherto borne the 
 name of Vesta, to take her as a privateer to the 
 coast of Rio Grande and the Banda Oriental. 
 
 The strange position in which Dolores was 
 placed, imposed upon him, on the other hand, the 
 moral obligation not to go to sea until her per- 
 sonal safety was made more certain than was the 
 case under the existing circumstances. Her 
 embarkation from Buenos Ayres to Rio, had been 
 more the result of concurring circumstances, than 
 her own will and plan She would have pie- 
 fered going to Mount Video, where she, at least in 
 a social respect, could await her intellectual 
 element. The necessity of herspeedy departure, 
 and the difficulty of finding a safe passage for 
 her under a neutral flag, had hastened tlie sailing 
 of the Nordstjernan, which was favored by Mr. 
 Walker's " passion for secrets," and his just as 
 undeniable desire to be obliging and serviceable. 
 He had no direct commereial connexion with 
 Monte Video, and would consequently have been 
 obliged to give up the whule secret. A certain 
 pride to " despatch" the friend of his daughter, 
 in such danger, from his own house on board of 
 a vessel, to his own house in Rio, might have 
 been at the bottom of the willingness which he 
 manifested so zealously in this matter. 
 
 Although Mr. Walker had hinted at the se- 
 cret of the authorship in the most cautions 
 manner, and with all due importance, to his 
 brother-in-law in Rio, he did not in the least 
 doubt of the personal security of the persecuted 
 poetess, under the protection of Mr. Thomson. 
 He had, like so many business people ofhissort, 
 too little insight into the political relations 
 which surrounded him, to perceive the danger 
 of 'nis protege in Rio. Men of his class, who 
 fio not take a decisive part in any political con- 
 tost, and belong to neither the one nor the other 
 party, (but to secure their personal safety, in 
 a juste milieu, by which they are never com- 
 promised,) seldom comprehend the extreme of a 
 political or religious persecution. Similar men, 
 in wrhom no principle has arrived to the clear- 
 
 ness of inward moral conviction, for ■wlio-io sup- 
 port they would stake their external existence, 
 not to mention their fortune or life, cannot con- 
 ceive of the " power of conviction," which is 
 so dangerous to the principle opposed to it. 
 
 As every man judges othe.'s by himself, he can 
 seldom re[jresent to himself a higher degree of 
 moral strengtli than that which he possesses. A 
 man without patriotism or religion, cannot, 
 with the best will, have any idea of a sacrifice 
 for the sake of patriotism or religion ; it is p.sy- 
 chologically impossible. No material egotist can 
 have an idea of an action or a connexion from 
 love; for what he calls love, is selfishness and 
 animal instinct, as far as the feeling is extinct 
 in him which lies at the foundation of love. 
 
 In tills psychological and logical impossibility cf 
 correct judgement on the part of material men, is 
 founded that loveless "judgement of the world," 
 which, in a thousand instances, falls upon the 
 man who, penetrated by a principle, acts from 
 conviction, or from love in harmony with him- 
 self As a moral consequence, the "world" breaks 
 most mercilessly the staff over him who is not 
 
 undorstood. F;tr beside the judgement or 
 
 critics of the social world, (founded upon pre- 
 judices and adopted regulations,) stands " public 
 opinion," the judgement of sound common sense 
 and natural feelings. The world gives its judge- 
 ments generally very loud ; public opinion judges 
 sometimes in silence. 
 
 Decided enemies, often more considerate, 
 judge each other with less narrow mindedness, 
 when opposed in a political or religious contest. 
 Both recognise the force of the principle which 
 contends against them, as well as the eflect and 
 consequences of sacrifice from conviction. 
 
 Let the "practical _/jis(e milieu" believe in a re- 
 conciliation of despotism with the idea of liberty, 
 a reconciliation of materialism with spiritual- 
 ism, a union of fire with water, without injury 
 
 to either of the hostile elements : the Juste 
 
 milieu only manifests, by such a belief, its own 
 want of character, if not its narrow-mindedness. 
 
 The word of every author, the poem of every 
 poet, in the spirit of liberty, remains a thorn 
 in the eye of despotism, until the author or 
 poet becomes converted to the opposite prin- 
 ciple, or is bought over to silence ; and, until 
 then, his person is morally and civilly con- 
 demned to death. The juste militu can as little 
 comprehend such a man's contempt of such a 
 sentence of death, as it can conceive of the 
 maintenance of a moral conviction, in spite of 
 such a sentence. The 7«»<e niiViei/ does not re- 
 cognise the power of such a conviction, because 
 it has none itself. 
 
 Mr. Thomson had hastily read the Elegies of 
 La Plata, upon a time, and had thought them 
 very interesting, very beautiful, very pretty, and 
 that they displayed quite a poetical tendency, 
 as he afterward thought the authoress very in- 
 teresting, very beautit"ul, very pretty, and far 
 iVom being so thin as her little pamphlet, but 
 witli a decided tendency to corpulency. But he 
 had had neither time nor occasion to reflect 
 upon the spirit of conviction that bre.ithed 
 throughout the work, because that spirit had 
 nothing at all to do with his business. 
 
 iMr. Thomson, like thousands of his kind, vcn 
 seldom, if ever, thought. He calculated and cal- 
 culated, as his business required, and bis wtiole
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 237 
 
 I lib tr as a Bnsinega, which his father had quite 
 ncciden|-a!ly happened to found. He had not an 
 hour to spare to reflect upon any thins, not di- 
 rectly belonging to his business, that did not 
 aflect him personally. 
 
 In the first weeks after the arrival of Dolores, 
 he had almost forgotten that glie Was the author- 
 ess of those Elegies, as the baron had, luckily 
 for himself, got the idea out of his head that he 
 had ever shown him the pamphlet. This forget- 
 fulness and absent-mindedness in all that does 
 not concern his department, in which the Criton 
 lives, is to be found, without exception, amon; 
 all business men who move in the narrow 
 sphere of their calculations, whose atmosphere 
 is like a chemical substance that dissolves in 
 itself every thing foreign, and annihilates all 
 that does not belong to their business. 
 
 Such men as IVIr. Thomson are like the wheels 
 of a machine, which fit to a hair between the cogs 
 of another wheel, in which they fall mechani- 
 cally, and, when set a going by the " perpetual 
 motion" of calculation, turn positively about their 
 axes, as long as some fatal effect from without 
 does not disturb them, or cause another wheel 
 to stop : a misfortune that makes them as useless 
 as the separated wheel of a broken machine. 
 
 Mr. Thomson recognised physical existence as 
 the principal condition of every business. He 
 did not conduct business in order to live from its 
 profits, but he lived only to " do business." He 
 considered the principal objects of physical ex- 
 istence to be breakfast, lunch, dinner, supper, 
 soda water, pepper, mustard, castor oil, Morri- 
 son's pills, sherry, port, ale, and a large English 
 family bedstead. 
 
 No reasonable man will ever maintain that 
 such claims on life could have been in the least 
 extravagant. On the contrary, we find few men 
 who do not make nearly the same demands for 
 their earthly existence, although many do not 
 see them satisfied. 
 
 Mr. Thomson had now proposed to himself to 
 marry Senora Dolores, and Mr. Thomson was 
 a man who generally endeavored to carry out 
 what he had once proposed to do, let it be what 
 •It would ; it was all one— Mr. Thomson was a 
 man of energy. He had five times in his life ob- 
 tained the hands of ladies whose tendencies to 
 corpulency were just as attractive as was here 
 the case ; and he thought that the devil would 
 be to pay, if she should this time be obliged to 
 abandon his purpose. 
 
 Hinango had seen through this individuality 
 of the old widower, and as clearly understood 
 the position of his female friend, who (as he ex- 
 pressed himself in his seaman's way) lay under 
 convoy of an old corvette, between cliffs on every 
 side, to be escorted into the port of matrimony, 
 and could not separate from it without exposin"- 
 hersell to the danger of being sunk by a broad- 
 side of desperation from the old corvette, called 
 the " Energy." Dolores must get out of this dan- 
 gerous spot, lift anchor under the flag of moral 
 freedom, and go out upon the ocean of life, to 
 seek some other port. 
 
 There seemed to be no social nary at hand to 
 save. " Dolores," by giving battle to the old cor- 
 vette. The condition of " Dolores" was critical 
 and became every dav more and more so, since 
 the suspicious guard ship " De Spandau" had ap- 
 pruaclied the old corvette under a false flag, 
 
 likewise tc tow into the port of matrimony an 
 old F'nglish brig, called " Miss Susan," laden 
 with dullness and intolerance, and a deck load of 
 hope, deceived a hundred times. The old 
 "Miss .Susan" was indeed newly rigged and 
 painted, but did not make a move as if she 
 meant to run aw.iy from the longed for convoy; 
 but the guard ship kept both under close watch. 
 These four sails lay in a safe anchorage, but a tew 
 short English miles distant from the port, whose 
 lighthouse was the top of a stately steeple to 
 which tlie convoy bore down. 
 
 There seemed to be no obstacle in the way of 
 the two captains, to prevent them from running 
 in with the first favorable wind, as both, from 
 long seaman's experience, knew their sailing 
 ground. The captain of the " Spandau" did not 
 always observe the port laws, nor punctually 
 report himself to the worldly or spiritual author- 
 ities, but sometimes escorted a brig into the Port 
 of Betrothed, without paying the duties for an- 
 chorage, buoys, lighthouse, and the like, al- 
 though he was, notwithstanding, by no means 
 wanting in practice. 
 
 Both were sufficiently practical captains, ac- 
 quainted with the coast, among whose rocks they 
 lay. They had duly examined the cables and 
 chains of their convoys, and from their long ex- 
 perience, considered them strong enough to 
 withstand the breakers, which they declared to 
 be quite insignificant; at least " Miss Susan" lay 
 as comfortable at anchor before the port of matri- 
 mony as ever an old vessel of the kind did, that 
 had been over forty years at sea, and had never 
 found a pilot or a convoy for its destination. 
 
 " Dolores," according to the inspection of the 
 captain of the " Energy," very lightly laden 
 with poetical enthusiasm, religious and political 
 exaggeration, fantastic ideas concerning the so- 
 cial world and the destiny of woman, had hitherto 
 appeared very little inclined to submit to the 
 convoy. But the " Energy" considered the escort 
 as secured, as soon as the flag of the " Dolores" 
 could be properly hoisted up again, which, alas ! 
 under the prevailing mourning, had, until now, 
 floated at half-mast. 
 
 Such weeks or months of mourning were so 
 natural, and happened so often in the merry 
 navigation of life, that this circumstance scarcely 
 came into consideration, when the captain of 
 the " Energy" sat before his special chart, and 
 very comfortably compared with the reality the 
 deep upon which he was anchored, the "reefs 
 that surrounded him, and the light from the 
 church steeple of matrimony. According to his 
 view, an old seaman, under Hymen's flag, would 
 not easily have so fortunately cast anchor, as he, 
 favored by tide, wind, and weather, had suc- 
 ceeded in doing. He regarded his " Energy" 
 and the stately " Dolores" at his side with a sat- 
 isfaction, of which aland hero, who never cast 
 anchor under that flag, on the coast of matri- 
 mony, can form no idea. 
 
 Hinango could not and would not desert Do- 
 lores in such a situation ; and, nevertheless, the 
 difficulties of a formal abduction were evidently 
 increased at every visit of the captain of the 
 " Spandau," at the side (if not on board) of the 
 old brig " Miss Susan." Both captains seemed 
 to have a secret understanding, to improve a 
 good opportunity when the period of mourning 
 of the " Dolores," should have expired, of run-
 
 S3S 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ning in tci;;ether into the safe port. There had 
 lieen, until now, a calm, a motionless calm, and 
 the sea was only moved in beating against the 
 reefs and clilfs, by the mighty current of time. 
 
 The supposition of Hinango and his friends, in 
 relation to the above plan, was so far well founded 
 as the captain of the " Energy" made use of the 
 strange guard ship, to keep *' Dolores" in their 
 midst, while " Miss Susan," somewhat nearer to 
 the entrance of the harbor, lay qui.** cortforlaldy, 
 held by solid chain cables, and (".id uot need 
 scarcely any watching. 
 
 Hinango saw the case before his eyes, that the 
 " Energy " would some day take the liberty to 
 attempt to command the " Dolores" by signal, 
 and that the latter would then (with undeniable 
 dislike to the company of the " Eticrgy") con- 
 sequently lie between two fires, within shot of 
 the Spandau. 
 
 The most necessary step on his part, as pri- 
 vateer, for such a case, to come to the assistance 
 of the hard-pressed ** Dolores," was the prepa- 
 ration of the Vesta, the schooner brig, which 
 he had purchased through Vernon's agency. 
 This vessel, of about two hundred tons, had, be- 
 fore that, belonged to a corpulent Portuguese, 
 who used it in his slave business, and had not 
 spared it. It was constructed after the French 
 model, elegantly shaped, and built for a fast 
 sailer, and had proved its original strength and 
 solidity through many a storm, although it some' 
 times, perhaps, had leaked. 
 
 It lay upon the water in a manner pleasing to 
 every seaman, and obeyed, with admirable case, 
 the slightest pressure of the helm ; it sailed 
 close to the wind, like an American pilot boat, 
 required strong canvass when upon its course, 
 and seemed jealous of every sail that endeavored 
 to outrun it. The corpulent son of Lusus,* 
 her owner, knew the good qualities of his Vesta, 
 as well as every other seaman or captain did his 
 comfortable vessel, but she was too small for the 
 slave trade, and he finally resolved to dispose of 
 her. The conscientious journal of the Vesta, 
 under the command of the Lusiado, showed her 
 excellent sailing, of which he, like every other 
 seaman, was not a little proud, as he ascribed a 
 part of her good qualities to his own nautical 
 skill, which every sailor thought just and right. 
 Hinango made several pleasure trips with his 
 favorite, without actually going to sea, which, 
 under the existing circumstances,! would cer- 
 tainly have been difficult, but he had suSicient 
 judgement to calculate what would be her sail- 
 ing upon the broad ocean, under full sail, with 
 a favorable wind, from his trial excursions. He 
 seemed, for the present, not to desire a better 
 ship, as it, on the other hand, having been new 
 rigged, and a fresh coat of paint put on it, since 
 coming into his possession, really appeared as 
 one of the finest slave ships in the bay of Rio. 
 The V'esta, fitted out for a Haytien man of war, 
 and Mr. Vernon's hints, that it, like so many 
 others, was secretly intended for its former pur- 
 pose, the slave trade, was suflicient to satisfy 
 
 ♦ The Portuguese style themselves the sons of Lusus, 
 as the Germans call themselves the sons of Hermann, the 
 Swiss the sons of TelL 
 
 f According to the port laws of Rio, no ship can pass 
 the fortress Santa Cruz, without having been cleared et 
 the custom house, or, in a particular case, with a writ* 
 ten permit from the guarda mor (port captain.) 
 
 the curiosity of the inquii-ers who chanced to 
 
 notice the vessel. 
 
 Hinango, without ceremony, took possession 
 of the cabin of the corpulent Portuguese, as 
 captain of the Vesta, the name of which he 
 changed to Astrala, when he got his shij) papers 
 made out in order under the Haytien flag. 
 
 The insurrection in Rio Grande, a Brazilian 
 province, would clearly prevent his return to 
 any por'- of t je empire, as soon as he should be 
 seen there, op^ ily taking part in the cause of 
 the people. He would, consequenlly, have to 
 delay his departure from the Bay of Rio, until 
 the crisis in Dolores' fate should have shown 
 itself. 
 
 He had sufficient to do until that time, to pro- 
 cure the translation into Spanish of those pam- 
 phlets which he had arranged from his papers 
 as an author of " Young Europe," if it should 
 only be to answer, before friend or foe, the ques- 
 tion : " What a life like his was really intended 
 for r" In this manner originated a short extract 
 from a literary work " on nation and govern- 
 ment." 
 
 Alvarez had resolved, as soon as the work 
 should be completed, to undertake a journey by 
 land to Rio Grande, in order, as a member of the 
 association, the Humanidad, to bring the gift of 
 a young European to the insurgents. This offer 
 was the more to be prized, as the departure of 
 the Astrala (as the Vesta was now called) was 
 deferred to an indefinite time, and the little 
 work, perhaps, contained much that might be 
 welcome to the insurgents, and of practical 
 utility to them. But the uncertainty respecting 
 the fate of the sister of Alvarez, was a circum- 
 stance which Hinango took into consideration, 
 and regarded as a strong reason against his de- 
 parture. It nevertheless appeared necessary 
 to open a communication by land with Rio 
 Grande, for the safe arrival of the Astrala on the 
 coast of Rio Grande, watched as it was by the 
 Brazilian men of war, or cruisers, seemed some- 
 what doubtful, as soon as it should have fired 
 the first shot for the cause of tlie people. 
 
 Hinango had, as an answer to the question of 
 conscience, what he, and men of his position, 
 really intended to do in the world .' explained 
 the spirit and object of his mission in a sort of 
 epistle to the insurgents in Rio Grande. This 
 document, as well as the pamphlet to which it 
 was to serve as an introduction, may the sooner 
 find a place in this novel, as we owe the reader 
 an account of the real object of life, and the 
 h'avelling about of a man, who, " without any 
 regular business," had, as it wotdd seem, even 
 
 roamed about through half-a-dozen planets. 
 
 We therefore improve the calm on the coast 
 of our events, before which the five ships are 
 lying at anchor, at some distance from each 
 other, to give the reader the necessary informa- 
 tion in regard to the above " questions of con- 
 science," by here inserting the epistle in the 
 style of a privateer, and the little book without 
 a "title. 
 
 The two following chapters are to be consider- 
 ed as the ballast of the Astrala, as their con- 
 tents are heavy enough, and would, perhaps, be 
 sufficient to keep a ship of state, at whose helm 
 a man of head and heart should be placed, in 
 course, under the flag of humanity, towards the 
 point of its destination.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 239 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE EPISTLE OF ORMTJR, 
 TO THE INSURGENTS OF RIO GRANDE. 
 
 " God and mankind !" 
 
 Ormur, a European, of the tribe of the Scan- 
 dinavians, called to be an apostle of humanity, 
 offereth unto you the greeting of the spirit which 
 inspireth him, and sendeth unto you, in the per- 
 formance of his duty, a little book, without title, 
 concerning nation and government. 
 
 Let humanity prevail in the spirit of God, and 
 manifest its existence in striving after perfection. 
 Amen. 
 
 We have beheld you for years contending 
 openly and heroically for your freedom and in- 
 dependence — for the extension of republican 
 boundaries in South America. 
 
 We know that the Brazilian monarchy hath, 
 by means of a legitimate band of pirates, of the 
 alfandega, burdened, oppressed, and almost de- 
 stroyed all commerce on your coast with an op- 
 pressive duty, hath forced millions from you 
 without securing its own e.xistence thereby, 
 because the most of the plundered money fell 
 into the left pocket of the alfandega. 
 
 We know that ye are tired of such monarchical 
 disorder; that ye, in the proud consciousness of 
 your strength, made short work with the afore- 
 said piracy of the alfandega ; that ye drove away 
 your plundering guests, and lit the matches of 
 your cannons with the monarchical tarilf. 
 
 The history of the world of the last centuries 
 showeth " similar instances" of so called colonies, 
 of this or that monarchy, throwing overboard 
 the monarchical custom house officers, douaniers, 
 gens d'armes, officers of the alfandega, or what- 
 ever they were called, as well as all other kinds 
 of officers, and proclaiming a republic, or even 
 a constitutional monarchy. 
 
 Such occurrences are considered great events 
 in the history of the world ; but mankind are 
 little benefited by the result, so long as no 
 Principle proceeds from such a declaration of 
 independence, that is higher than the personal 
 liberty of " making money." 
 
 Every republic that has arisen out of thp ashes 
 of a monarchy, after a long and obstinate struggle, 
 is continually exposed to the danger of sooner 
 or later being precipitated into the mines of 
 selfishness — if it counts no Republicans. 
 
 1 therefore feel myself called, in sending unto 
 you the accompanying little book, concerning 
 nation and government, to impress upon your 
 hearts what is needful, and what will be needful, 
 in every nation which, having acquired its inde- 
 pendence, declares itself a " republic." 
 
 A Republic is not a country in its geographical 
 position, between this or that latitude and longi- 
 tude ; a republican is not every man born in 
 euch a country, without a throne, that is called a 
 republic. Think not so. There are as less 
 republicans by birth as there are aristocrats by 
 birth ; and whoever imagines that he is a repub- 
 lican, because he was born in a country without 
 a throne, is like the arrogant aristocrats, who 
 pride themselves upon the chance of their birth. 
 
 Know ye, a republican is not born such, but 
 must develop himself from the germ of hu- 
 
 manity that was born within him. A republican 
 may be born in an absolute monarchy, as we 
 behold royalists, and so called aristocrats, in 
 every republic, who were born there. 
 
 The first conditions of a republic, and of any 
 republican, are : respect for himself, and justice 
 to others ! 
 
 Know ye, that it will signify little, if ye cry 
 out : " We are free ; no king and no emperor 
 can command us ! we can act and do as we 
 please ! we live in a free country ! hurrah for 
 the republic !" 
 
 Know ye what the word republic meaneth .' 
 whence it cometh .' If there should be those 
 among you that know it not, I will explain it to 
 you. 
 
 The word republic is derived from the Latin 
 words " res," the cause, and " publica," public ; 
 therefore "republic" is the public or general 
 cause, the general welfare, the welfare of the 
 people, the commonwealth. 
 
 Republican is, consequently, according to the 
 original signification of the word, a man that 
 sacrificeth his own personal interest, to the 
 public, common cause, to the welfare of the 
 people. 
 
 Consider ye this, and call ye not yourselves 
 republican, before ye recognise the spirit of the 
 word, and fulfil the duties which the term im- 
 plieth. 
 
 Think not that your contest is ended, when 
 ye have succeeded in driving the hirelings of 
 the enemy beyond your borders, who did not 
 become tiie " food for powder" of tlie power of 
 your people. When ye shall have apparently 
 obtained your political freedom, then first be- 
 ginneth your contest for "moral freedom," with- 
 out which the other will be worthless. 
 
 When ye shall have disarmed the hirelings 
 by which monarchy endeavored to subjugate 
 you, ye will not have lilcewise disarmed the 
 Prejudices remaining among you, after tliey liad 
 taken root under the corrupting influence of mo- 
 narchy, and its ])rop — the priesthood. 
 
 Know ye, that it is easier to obtain a brilliant 
 victory over the bayonets of despotism, than to 
 eradicate the lurking poison of prejudice and 
 hypocrisy, after it hath flown through the vems 
 and nerves of a people for centuries. 
 
 It is easier for a nation to free itself from mo- 
 narchical slavery th an from the chains of moral 
 slavery under the mask of freedom. 
 
 Freedom consisteth not in the personal liberty 
 to do, and to omit, what ye will, to live for your 
 personal and frequently very sordid interest, 
 and to call to your brother : " Help thyself 
 do as I do ; make use of the confidence and the 
 stupidity of others in tliy business : make mo- 
 ney as I do : thou art free !" 
 
 Freedom is not the permission to wear your 
 hats on your heads before every body, and not to 
 be obliged to salute any person whom ye may 
 chance to meet in the dwelling of another, and 
 who is " nothing to you," because ye do no 
 business with him. 
 
 Freedom consisteth not in the rude indepen- 
 dence sustained by credit, nor incivility to cred 
 iters and foreigners, nor in the privilege ol 
 taking your ox hides and horns to market without 
 excise, and to export them without duty to king 
 or emperor. 
 
 Freedom consisteth not in your Declaration of
 
 240 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 Independence, whereby )e aosolvc yourselves 
 from the statutes of the crown. 
 
 Frceiinm is 3iinethinj» else. 
 
 Know ye, that political freedom is founded 
 upon your fatherland, and moral freedom in 
 your hearts. It is the condition in which ye 
 are hindered by no external subjugation from 
 developing and improving your moral and spir- 
 itual powers, from fulfilling your duties towards 
 yourst-lves, towards your nation, and towards 
 mankind. 
 
 Let moral freedom abide in your hearts; it is 
 the consciousness of your dignity as men, and of 
 your power of will, the acknowledgement of 
 your higher destination; with the renunciation 
 of all prejudices, which circumscribe it, and 
 prevent you from attaining it. 
 
 Freedom is consequently no most gracious 
 present, that an emperor, or a king or queen can 
 grant or guarantee by a sheet of paper, called a 
 Constitution, 
 
 Freedom is your Birthright; that no despot 
 can grant unto you, no tyrant needeth guarantee. 
 It is not a gift, for which men should beg in 
 servile suppliant petitions ; it is their most sacred 
 and inviolable Possession, which they may main- 
 tain against every attack in battle, for life ajid 
 death. 
 
 Moral freedom and personal liberty, arc found- 
 ed on equality. The violation of the moral 
 equality of a fellow man is a violation of his 
 liberty. It is not the end of a nation, but the 
 means for the fulfilment of all the duties of 
 humanity. 
 
 Therefore, when ye shall have laid the foim- 
 dation stone of your political freedom, be also 
 morally free, and make use of the element of 
 freedom for the general welfare, in honor ol the 
 term : Republic. 
 
 IVloral freedem can prevail in the heart of a 
 slave fettered in chains, and many so called re- 
 publicans do not know even what is moral free- 
 dom ! 
 
 Think not that ye are free, while ye value 
 your wortli by oxen and ox liides, and by the 
 money tliat ye get for them ! for ye are slaves 
 unto mammon. 
 
 Think not that ye are free, while your priests 
 lead }ou about by the noses, and prohibit you to 
 read books dictated by sound reason ! for ye are 
 the slaves of the priesthood. 
 
 Think not that ye are free, while you seelc 
 after offices and dignities in the service of one or 
 the other party of your state, to beg for your- 
 selves (ondci the protection of the Farcupilhas.or 
 of the Moderados, or ol' the Caramuros) comfort 
 at the expense of your nation. Verily I say unto 
 you, ye arc slaves unto your selfishness. 
 
 Think not that the freedom of a future ge- 
 neration will arise from the stinlting slovigh of 
 your party spirit, from revilings and defamatory 
 speeches against persons of this or that party in 
 your state. Freedom recogniseth no person ; it 
 is a principle; it recogniseth no popular party, 
 but the Peoijlc only ! 
 
 Think not tliat your children will grow up to 
 be republicans, as a palm tree groweth up to be 
 a palm tree, and a thistle a thistle. Bring up 
 your children to be Men, and you fatherland will 
 bloom as a republic. 
 
 Ye despise the " mob" of your nation in its 
 rudeness and coarseness, and the ruder and 
 
 coarser is your mob, the greater i.s your own 
 shame : for a republic knowcth not the term, 
 " mob." The republic, like a mother, shall 
 care for all her children, with equal love, and 
 the neglect of a single one is a crime against 
 humanity mark ye that ! 
 
 We hear much said about the rights of man 
 and the rights of nations, but no one speaketh of 
 the duties of man tovs-ards his nation, and of the 
 duties of nations towards mankind. 
 
 Know ye, a ration that proclaimeth its free- 
 dom, and doth not at the same time recognise 
 and fulfil its duties to mankind, is a selfish na- 
 tion, and stands very low. 
 
 The duties of your nation to mankind, next, 
 consist in this: that ye make laws in accordance 
 with the progress of the age, for the improve- 
 ment and ennoblement of your generation, and 
 as an example fir other nations ; that ye reveal 
 the destination of man, which is a loftier one than 
 the anim-d gratification of material wants ; that 
 ye manifest the .spirit of freedom, and teach it in 
 your schools ; that ye as.semble the wise men of 
 your nation in universities, and otter prizes for 
 the honor of mankind, as ye have, hitherto, 
 prizes for the improvement of cattle. For verily 
 I say unto you, mankind hath claims on every 
 people, and every people hath claims upon the 
 last of its sons ! consider ye that ! 
 
 Where the worth of man is only reckoned by 
 money, there man himself is a saleable creature 
 purchasable by every despot, and such a gener- 
 ation serveth, at the utmost, as manure for a 
 future one. For by deceit and cheating can ye 
 " make money," and a stupid bloclchead can be 
 rich. 
 
 If ye as a people recognise no loftier aim than 
 the misuse of liberty " to make money," it were 
 better ye should remain the serfs and slaves of 
 an emperor or of a queen ! and not disgrace the 
 term " republic :" for ye are unworthy of liberty, 
 and deserve to have your per centage of trallic 
 
 and gain counted out to you with the knout. 
 
 Beware of the mania of money-making, lest 
 the negroes spit af'ter you, and cry after you, 
 " money I money ! sovereigns ! gentlemen ! res- 
 pectable ! fishionable ! money ! money !" as they 
 do after the English in the Rua Direita at Kio 
 de Janeiro, where I have seen it, and can there- 
 fore pei'sonally testify thereto. 
 
 Thcrctbre, beware of those gentlemen who 
 bleat, " God save the king !" or, " God save the 
 queen '." (God save the queen, and let us shiioe 
 the people,) and come to you, and say imto you : 
 
 " We will teach you civilization." Ye must 
 
 know that the nation of these gentlemen has 
 become the most powerful of all othei's, by theft, 
 robbery, and fraud, by murder and incendiarisjn, 
 committed in all parts of the world, by the so 
 called cabinet of this Christian nation; and the 
 rich there call poverty a crime ; and a great part 
 of the people are maimed and starved m manu- 
 factories, and have scarcely strength enough to 
 cry, " (lod save the queen ?" and tifty thousand 
 miserable sinners wander about in the capital 
 of this gentleman nation in privileged misery, 
 and cannot tell where or how they live. 
 
 When such gentlemen ofl'eryou their " civili- 
 zation," thank them kindly, and place them un- 
 der police supervision, and watch their steps : for 
 their business is to shave nations, and they have
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Mi 
 
 done a gvc:\t business with razors, and races of 
 men and borses. 
 
 Take lieed that ye be not like the aristocrats, 
 in splendor and luxury, and effeminacy, for that 
 Bhoweth the enervation of your republics, and 
 your venality to every despotism. 
 
 Take heed that ye do not show your " repub- 
 lican principles" out of ragged elbows and dirty 
 linen, for ye only manifest therehy the ragged- 
 ness of your consequence and the dirtiness of 
 your inward being. 
 
 Take heed that ye do not hate and despise 
 foreigner,^, who, after being disarmed in the 
 contest for their fatherland, seek a refuge 
 among you, and sojourn under your roofs, tor 
 (except the Caboclcs and Mamalocos) your fa- 
 thers were foreigners tliemselvcs in your land ; 
 and if ye will be republicans, pride yourselves 
 not of the privilege of birth. 
 
 Beware of the " Cosmopolites," who come 
 unto you, and say : "We know nothing of fa- 
 therland, and need no fath. rland, only land ! 
 we come among you to do our business under 
 the protection of your laws. 
 
 Beware of the " yardstick people," who come 
 unto you, and say : '■ We will not become citi- 
 zens of your state, for we ' do not meddle with 
 politics,' but we want only t. make money, and 
 therefore do we dwell without your cities, and 
 thereby save the taxes we would have to pay as 
 citizens." 
 
 Let your lasso be thrown about the necks of 
 Buch cosmopolite rabble, to hang them on the 
 branchesof ajacaranda, where they are highest. 
 Beware of the " Philanthropists," who come 
 unto you, and say : ■' We advise you, not to in- 
 troduce any social improvements, but to main- 
 tain the principles of prerogative, that your 
 poorer clas es may remain jioor, and we "may 
 have opportunities to build ponr-bouses, and to 
 appoint our protegf's as poor-liouse guardians, 
 and as officers of all kinds. For it is a pity to 
 let your licef bones rot. Let the poor continue 
 poor, that they may eat our bone soups. Let 
 us give alms publicly, and inscribe our names 
 beside the emporer's whom you have dethroned, 
 for he was a philanthropist, and ye have greatly 
 misunderstood him." Cast your lassos about 
 the necks of this philanthropical rabble, to 
 hang them. 
 
 Beware of the Priests, who come unto to you 
 and s.ay: "We are sent hither by our most 
 gracious emperor, or by our most gracious good 
 king, or from our most graoi(ms queen , to preach 
 Christianity unto your people after the text : 
 • Render to Caosar the things that are Caisar's, 
 that nothing remain that is thejjeople's ;' allow 
 yourselves to be trodden under foot, and Hogged 
 alive on earth, and let the ' wool be pulled'over 
 your eyes' by the mighty ones of the earth, in 
 Christian humility, and slavish subjection; for 
 then ye will die happy and go to heaven, and 
 every d.ay secure your mock-turtle, and ale, and 
 plumb pudding, in a private paradise, separated 
 from your rich, (as you have been separated 
 from them in your royal churches,) whose 
 •' protection " will despise you even there. 
 
 fling your lassos about the necks of such a 
 priestly rabble, and hang them. 
 
 And now I deliver unto you the little book, 
 without title, on nation and government, that ye 
 may read it, and multiply it, and distribute it. 
 31 
 
 among your people, and erect schools in tho 
 spirit of this book, in honor of the Kepublio. 
 and for the welfare of mankind. Amen. 
 
 Written on board the schooner brig Astral*, 
 under the flag of Humanity. 
 January the 9th, 1839. 
 
 Ormur Or..4.FUB, 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE BOOK or ORMUR. 
 
 ON PEOPLE AND GOVERNMENT. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 A nation cut up in powerless parts, governed 
 to its own ruin, and to the deNtruction of its 
 nationality, by insolent princes, hostile to the in- 
 terests of the peaple, mil surely one day awake, 
 and assert its independence as a nation It will 
 recognise its own dignity, and feel the disgrao* 
 of slavery ; it will no longer endure tyranny., 
 but shake off the ignominious yoke, free itself, 
 and represent itself 
 
 If we should belong to a nation, that had at- 
 tained its freedom after a decisive contest, w« 
 would take the liberty of submitting the follow- 
 ing plan for a national representation, with th» 
 motto: "Prove all things; hold fast that which 
 1 is good." 
 
 FORM OF A NATIONAL. REPRKSENT.^TION 
 AND GOVERNMENT. 
 
 1. A large country must of necessity be di- 
 vided into seperate paits, (provinces or dis- 
 tricts,) to facilitate the administration of gov- 
 ernment. Such divisions already exist in almost 
 every country, as distinct races of people gen- 
 erally maintain their original character in all 
 peculiarities, and distinguish themselves from 
 each other accordingly," without prejudice to 
 the whole. 
 
 These Districts generally bear the name of 
 their original inhabitants. Each District will 
 consist of several Shires, the boundaries of which 
 may be determined by mountains, rivers, or 
 other accidental circumstances. 
 
 2. The inhabitants of each shire shall elect 
 by a m.ajority of votes (without distinction of 
 property) a Shire-man, and in every district a 
 District Governor. If the shire-man, or chief- 
 man in the shire, should be advanced to th» 
 office of district governor, his place shall b« 
 filled by a new election. 
 
 3. The shire-men shall be, at the same time, 
 district deputies, and assemble for about threa 
 months in every year, as a District Chamber, 
 in the capital of the district, for deliberation^ 
 and the transaction of the affairs of the district. 
 
 The before mentioned org.anization of th« 
 people in Temples* (or whatever name may b« 
 thought appropriate) shall be the basis of ever/ 
 election. 
 
 * .S(?e the document, " Organization of the Union," &e„ 
 Uolorca, jjngo 187.
 
 242 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 4. A District Secretary shall be elected by the 
 people for the term of five years, who shall take 
 precedence, in the deliberations, and at the same 
 time keep tlie archives of the district. 
 
 The governor shall preside in the district 
 chamber, and have two votes. 
 
 f). After their general deliberations shall be 
 concluded, the deputies will return to their 
 homes. But this body must be consituted so that 
 one-fourth of their number are retained as a com- 
 mittee for deliberations in unforseen emergencies. 
 The discharge or leave of absence of members 
 (ihall be determined by lot. 
 
 6. The President of the Nation shall be 
 elected for five years. He must first have been 
 governor of a district. 
 
 7. Every district shall send its deputies to 
 the capital. These deputies will form a Con- 
 gress, over which the president shall preside. 
 The election shall be conducted by the people of 
 the districts, the number to be determined accord- 
 ing to the population ; their term of office to 
 last three years. 
 
 8. The congress shall transact all affairs of 
 the state, both internal and external, and be em- 
 powered to decide upon all matters, being, how- 
 ever, responsible to the people for its acts. 
 
 9. One-third of the congress shall be yearly 
 replaced by other deputies. 
 
 10. After the expiration of five years, the 
 president cannot be re-elected for the next five 
 years, unless by a majority of four-fifths. 
 
 11. At the end of each year, a commission 
 ihall be nominated by congress to hear all com- 
 plaints against the president, and to lay them 
 before congress for investigation. 
 
 12. The president shall reside in the capital. 
 
 13. The governors shall reside in the capitals 
 of their respective districts. 
 
 II. 
 
 MILITIA, MIX-ITART, ANB ITAVT. 
 
 1. The defence of the country shall devolve 
 upon the national guard, and tlie navy, which 
 are to be divided into so called active and inac- 
 tive corps. 
 
 2. Kvery native of the country, from the age 
 of IS to the age of 40, shall belong to the active 
 guard. Those residing on the coast shall belong 
 to the navy. 
 
 3. Every citizen, on passing his fortieth year, 
 will enter the inactive guard, or navy, which, 
 in time of war, is to remain for the defence of 
 the place, and is not to take tlie field, or proceed 
 to sea, as does the active. At the age of 50, the 
 citizen may retire from service. 
 
 4. The art of war, navigation, military tac- 
 tics, fortification, etc., are to be tauglit in the 
 high schools, (universities.) 
 
 5. The science of war will form a department 
 in the high schonls. The choice of study shall 
 be free, like every other. 
 
 6. Gymnastic exercises are to be taught and 
 practised as a necessary part of education, to 
 prepare for military service. At the same time, 
 a swimming school may be instituted. 
 
 7. A fencing school shall be attached to the 
 gymnastic department, at which there are to be 
 weekly public exhibitions. 
 
 8. Horsemanship shall likewise be made a 
 part of education in the uatioual schoob. It 
 
 shall be taught by experienced teachers, in coiv 
 nexion with instruction concerning the struc- 
 ture of the hnrse, (anatomy, etc.) 
 
 9. Tlie nece.ssary military required to be in 
 service for tlie maintenance of order, shall con- 
 sist of the national guard, drawn by lot for 
 three years, (from the 20th to the 23rd year.) 
 
 10. The o/hcers of the guard shall be elected 
 by the latter, but they must, nevertheless, pass 
 the necessary examination before the military 
 examiners. 
 
 11. All the officers of the active guard (ex- 
 cept engineers) shall draw, without distinction, 
 the same pay from the treasury, and sliall be 
 named, according to their position, without pri- 
 ority of rank. 
 
 12. The officers of the corps of engineers, and 
 of the navy, shall draw a salary proportionate to 
 the extent of their studies and attainments, and 
 when not in service, a third part thereof. 
 
 13. The number of engineers and oflicers of 
 the navy shall be regulated by the condition of 
 the active guard and navy. 
 
 14 Rank and title in the guard and navy will 
 confer no distinction, but, nevertheless, every 
 subordinate olficer will owe unconditional obe- 
 dience to his superior during service. 
 
 1.5. In particular cases, the chief of a division 
 of a brigade, or of a regiment, as well as the 
 commander of a frigate, corvette, etc., can be 
 ordered to take an inferior service without in- 
 jury to his honor. 
 
 16. The general national military exercises of 
 the national guard shall take place every year, 
 at the close of the harvest ; but, nevertheless, in 
 such a manner, that only one-half of the militia 
 shall be assembled at once, so that every citizen 
 will be exercised about three weeks every other 
 year, in a camp. 
 
 17. No superior officer will be authorized to 
 chastise a subordinate for any oftence that he 
 may commit. It shall be his duty to report it 
 to his superior. 
 
 There shall be in every division, as on board 
 of every man of war, a court of honor, chosen 
 by election, which shall hold public sessions. 
 The punishment shall be determined by the law 
 applying to the case. 
 
 is. Should the offence of an officer be of such 
 a nature as to require a dismission from service, 
 the court of honor shall decide whether the 
 criminal shall longer remain in the national 
 guard or navy, without rank. 
 
 19. No citizen can, even after having passed 
 an examination, become an officer, until he shall 
 have served three years in the national guard or 
 navy. (II. § 9.) 
 
 2ii. The war and naval departments, together 
 with the topographical bureau connected with 
 them, shall be stationary. 
 
 The members thereof shall be paid by the 
 state, like other officers. 
 
 21. The active cavalry also shall draw, when 
 nut of service, a small salary, as a compensation 
 for the keeping of the horses, in case the num- 
 ber of cavalry men should not be sufficient. 
 
 III. 
 
 ORGANIZATION FOR ARMING VHE PEOPLE. 
 
 1. The leader of each rock shall deliver to 
 the foundation the list of names of those youths
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 243 
 
 and men who, in case of war, would beJong to 
 Hie active corps. (See Organization Act, page 
 387.) 
 
 2. Tile secretary of the foundation shall re- 
 tain the eleven lists, and report the number of 
 warriors to the secretary of the hail. 
 
 The organization of the army shall fake place 
 in a manner similar to the organization of the 
 whole nation. 
 
 Ten men and a leader will form a band. 
 
 Eleven bands (1'21 men) shall form a com- 
 pany, or scpiadron of cavalry. 
 
 A company shall keep ten bands (110 men) 
 in the line, the remaining eleven to be employed 
 BIS pioneers, officers, drummers, mechanics, and 
 the like. 
 
 3. Eleven companies (1,3.31 men) will form 
 a column, but as eich company will have only 
 UO men in the line, the line of the column 
 shall consist of only 1,210 men, the remaining 
 121 to constitute the corps of officers, musicians, 
 officers of the bureau, stuff', (itat major,) etc. 
 
 Two columns will form a battalion, 2,420 
 men, in the line. 
 
 4. The orj^anization of the people is not to be 
 sffected by the calling out of the army. Every 
 individual will keep his number in the " rock 
 of the temple" until death, unless he shall 
 have been expelled for crime or misconduct, etc. 
 
 To avoid confusion, every pillar, etc., can 
 choose some suitable name, as, for exam.ple, 
 rock 4 ; pillar Hope ; hall 7 ; temple Rio Negro. 
 
 5. The operation of this organization in tem- 
 ples is three-fold : 
 
 (a.) As a means of representing the state in 
 the election of officers. 
 
 (b.) .*s a means of arming the inhabitants of 
 the districts, towns, etc. 
 
 (c.) As a means of promoting the interests of 
 humanity, as liberty is thus founded on the ba- 
 sis of equality. 
 
 The two first affect the country: the last, 
 mankind. 
 
 IV. 
 
 ItNTEB.NAI. ADMINISTRATION. OFFICERS OF 
 
 GOVERNMENT, 
 
 1. The president and governors shall draw 
 a fixed salary ; the senators and district depu- 
 ties an allowance per diem, for the time they 
 remain together. 
 
 2. Officers of government must have com- 
 pleted a course of legal studies. 
 
 3. Every nomination of officers shall pro- 
 ceed from the choice and proposal of the people 
 residing in the district over which the office is 
 exercised. 
 
 4. All the officers of the general govern- 
 ment of the interior, shall draw their pay from 
 the general treasury, and not from the district. 
 
 5. The election of administrative officers 
 shall take place viiia voce. The district candi- 
 dates shall send their certificates to the adminis- 
 trative departments, or personally report them- 
 selves. The five best shall be designated from 
 the proposed number, of whom the citizens of 
 the district shall elect one. 
 
 6. The president shall have no right to 
 transfer officers from one district to the other, 
 unless by consent of the heads of the district. 
 
 7. Every officer may appoint his deputies 
 
 and subordinates, public protestation being re- 
 served to the people. 
 
 8. The necessary number of lawyers, nota- 
 ries, professors, physicians, surgeons, etc., em- 
 ployed in the public institutions, are to be offi- 
 cers of government, paid by the state. 
 
 9. The appointment of physicians and sur- 
 geons, not in the public institutions, may take 
 l>lace according to the requirements of the num- 
 ber of inhabitants ufa place or district. 
 
 10. The candidate for either of the learned 
 professions must undergo a public examination. 
 
 11. Official salaries to be regulated by mode- 
 ration, but yet so that a subordinate officer sliall 
 receive an adetiuate support. Whoever does not 
 wish to serve the state for a moderate salary, is 
 not compelled to seek an office. 
 
 12. The appointment of the officers of gov- 
 ernment, in regard to salary, will fall into three 
 classes, but without in the least affecting the 
 rank or standing of the officers. All officers and 
 citizens of the government will stand uiion an 
 equal footing. 
 
 13. The clerks, etc., in the public offices, are 
 to be selected from the candidates of the institu- 
 tions of learning, (V. § 2fi,) and paid by the State. 
 
 SOCIAI. WORLD LEGISLATION, INSTITUTIONS 
 
 OF LEARNING, PROMOTION OF THE SCIENCES, 
 ARTS, AND INDUSTRY. 
 
 1. There will be, besides the legislative and 
 administrative, a Controlling, or Social Power. 
 The legislative power will be represented by the 
 congress, to whom the legislative body will be 
 subjected. It will not be able to make laws 
 without the assent of the congress. 
 
 2. The legislative body will consist of a cer- 
 tain number of worthy men, elected by the peo- 
 ple (as officers of government) for ten years, and 
 shall assemble in the capital. All propositions 
 in regard to laws, are to be laid before this body 
 for deliberation, and the chairman thereof shall 
 submit them to the senate (congress.) 
 
 3. The administrative or executive power 
 will be composed of all the officers of govern- 
 ment except the congress, the legislative body, 
 and the district deputies. 
 
 4. No district deputy nor general deputy can 
 be appointed to an administrative office. 
 
 .5. The third, controlling, or social power, 
 will consist of a national co\incil of a proportion- 
 ate number, elected frnin the people, according 
 to the before mentioned organization. 
 
 6. The duties of the national council will be 
 to lighten the Labors of the legislative body, to 
 promote the intellectual and social improvement 
 of the people, and to meliorate their social con- 
 dition. 
 
 7. No member of the national council can at 
 the same time be a member of congress, or an 
 officer of the government, but may be a shire- 
 man or district deputy. A building shall ba 
 erected for the council in the capital, to be Used 
 as a bureau for archives, a library, etc. 
 
 6. The council shall elect from their body 
 a president, a cashier, and a general secretary, 
 who are to be paid by the people, from contri- 
 butions to the temple fund, without resort to the 
 state treasury. 
 
 9. These three officers shall reside in the
 
 9^* 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 capital. The national council shall assemble 
 three months in every year, in the different capi- 
 tala of the district, alternately, and elect a chair- 
 man from their body. The chairman shall direct 
 the propositions and labors, with the help of the 
 secretary. The council will deliberate and 
 decide. 
 
 10. The destination of all classes of the peo- 
 ple shall be regulated by the council. It will 
 not only represent, what is properly tlie depart- 
 ment of education, (as far a-s its propositions shall 
 be submitted to the congress,) but control all 
 public institutions, provide for the infcllecfual 
 development of the laboring classes, and promote 
 mental activity, in science, literature, and the 
 Bits. 
 
 11. While men may, of (heir own accord. 
 End from inward impulse, be busied day and 
 eight in intellectual emi)Ioyment, mental ac- 
 tivity in literature and the arts, let it be provi- 
 ded that GO one of the so called laboring classes 
 ^hall be employed longer than eight hours a day, 
 that he may devote the remainder of his time to 
 ^ecrealion and intellectual improvement. 
 
 12. Every laborer shall enjoy a proportronate 
 part of the profits of his industry. 
 
 13. The national council shall control the 
 profits of laborers, as far as the latter can bring 
 
 mitted to the people, and confirmed bf the na- 
 tional council. 
 
 '24. Considering the value of time, instrnc- 
 tion in the living languages will be preferred to 
 the study of the dead, as only those persoiw 
 require the latter, who intend to devote them- 
 selves to one of the learned professions (law, 
 medicine, and divinity.*) , . • t. 
 
 2.'i. Besides the country, town, and high 
 schools, (universities,) there shall be, in every 
 shire, a general house of education for the male, 
 and another for the female youth. 
 
 26. In the general hoise of education, the 
 male youth v/ill obtain a fundamental instruction 
 in all' the departments of science, and receive an 
 education in accordance with his natural dispo- 
 sition and his talents, for the occupation which 
 lie may choose. 
 
 •27. Besides teachers of science, artists and 
 mechanics of all kinds ?hall be appointed for th«> 
 necessary instruction, and be paid by the state. 
 
 2S. Iti the houses of education for females, 
 instruction will be imparted (besides in the 
 necessary sciences) in all branches reqirircd in a 
 female education. 
 
 29. All children, without exception, will find 
 in this institution a dwelling and support, with- 
 out distinction of condition and the circumstances 
 
 their complaints before them, whereupon an ! of their parents. The pupils ol' the female sos 
 inspector (one of the council) shall be directed j are to remain in it until the end of their sixteenth 
 to institute an investigation ..-.4 ti,^ 
 
 14. Associations with community of property 
 can exist. They shall be proposed to the na- 
 tional council, who shall consider the proposi- 
 tion, and, in case of approval, shall lay the same 
 before the congress for confinnation. 
 
 in. The property or possessions of every asso- 
 ciation shall be considered private property, and 
 as such shall be honored with the property tax, 
 by which the state is supported, v/hich protects 
 the association. 
 
 16. The property tax shall be progressive. 
 All who do not possess a certain fixed amount 
 of property (to be determined by the council) 
 shall not be obliged to pay any property tax. 
 
 year, and those of the male sex until the end ol 
 their eighteenth vear. 
 
 30. Public instruction in these institutions, as 
 in all others, shall be without charge. 
 
 ;'l. A Bazaar shaH be connected with the 
 house of education, for the exhibition of a!l 
 work delivered by the pupils in the arts and 
 trades, and female work. 
 
 Every article prepared by a pupii, shall be 
 conscieutiouslv appraised, and the amount, afteJ 
 a deduction of the material, divided into three 
 parts, two of which shall be deposited in the 
 public savings bank, as the property of the pupil, 
 and the other shall go to the institution. The 
 pupil's earnings shall bear the usual national 
 
 1^. Personal and moral freedom'is the funda- per centage, and be reserved for him, as a for^ 
 mental condition of all development: every man | tu-ne. Until he shall arrive at his tvTenty-ftfth 
 has a rio-ht »nd claim to a proportionate result year. Tlie female pupils may receive the amount 
 
 of his labor, and shall also be required to con 
 tribute his proportion towards the .support of the 
 state. 
 
 IS. Every person shall be at liberty to convey 
 l)is property to an association, but no association 
 ^hall have the right to violate private property. 
 
 19. The first and most sacred property be- 
 stowed upon man, is his body. Personal free- 
 dom is (bunded on the law of nature, as the 
 condition of all development. 
 
 20. Community of projjerty can naturally 
 only be limited to an association, however ex- 
 tended it may be, and the possessions of such an 
 association will consequently always rema.n the 
 property of the association. 
 
 21. No association can exempt itself from 
 its duties towards its nation and fatherland. 
 There can be no " state within a stale." 
 
 ?.■',. Education, as the most sacred duly of 
 govtmment, shall promote the development ol 
 8ie physical, as well as intellectual powers and 
 nkoral ennoblement. 
 
 23. The system of education shall be planned 
 \fj- a national committee of education, to be sub- 
 
 of their earnings, at theii ruarriage, oi at the 
 end of their twentieth year, 
 
 32. An Academy of Fine Arts, (sculpture, 
 painting, architecture,) and an Academy of 
 Music, shall be established at the capital. 
 
 33. The products of art, of the academy, 
 are to be bought by the national Art-union, and 
 disposed of to its members. 
 
 34. A university shall be established in every 
 district for the study of law, medicine, the- 
 ology, philosophy, etc. 
 
 'JCx As an indncement to effort, medals shall 
 be bestowed for the most excellent works. A 
 travelling stipend for three years will be given 
 with the highest medal. 
 
 36. The erection and adornment of public and 
 private edifices, representations from the history 
 of the people, in statues and frejco, will offer to 
 talent opportunity for activity and development. 
 
 37. It shall be'the duty of the congress to usfl 
 
 • No sectarian shall be allowed to preach, until h9 
 shall have shown his acquaintaucc wilh ecclesiaflticul 
 history, etc., in a public examiuation before the univer* 
 
 sit jr.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 245 
 
 tbna Sjest endeavors to promote the bloom of all 
 sciences and arts, and of industry, and not to neg- 
 lect any branch of education. 
 
 38. There sliall be in every capita! of a district, 
 a3 well as in the cajjital of the counti-y, a build- 
 ing for a national theatre. The company be- 
 longing to the former, shall change their locality 
 every tliree months. The theatre is to be a 
 school of improvement for the people, and at the 
 «ame time, a support to rising poetic talent. 
 The aim of all the arts will be the strengthening 
 of the national spirit and moral ennoblement. 
 The dramatic artists shall be considered officers 
 of government. 
 
 VI. 
 
 MARRIAGES, AND COURTS OF MARRIAGK. 
 
 1. Bad marriages are an essential cause of the 
 corruption of mankind, for the greater part are 
 contracted for pecuniary purposes, like a busi- 
 ness transaction, or originate from base motives. 
 
 2. So called " reasonable" and heartless mar- 
 riages have a pernicious influence upon the next 
 generation, and in thein lies founded the greatest 
 evil of the present and the future. 
 
 3. In every shire there shall be established 
 courts of marriage, chosen by the inhabitants of 
 both sexes, co"".sisting of four married men and 
 six married women. 
 
 4. A citizen shall preside, who ia to be chosen 
 by lot, and shall have two votes. 
 
 5. Thj court shall hold weekly sessions, gene- 
 rally Sundays. 
 
 6. Females shall have a free ch<)ice of mar- 
 riage, as well as males. 
 
 7. Every couple vvlsning to be married shall 
 report themselves to the court, and be approved 
 for their coireet moral and civil conduct, and to 
 declare their free consent. Their marriage can 
 first take place a jear afterwards, should they 
 not separate before that time. 
 
 8. No co\iple can contj-act marriage, the differ- 
 ence in whose age is more than thirty years. 
 
 9 No young man or woman shall be forced 
 into marriage of speculation by their relations. 
 The injured party can complain belore the court. 
 
 10. Marriage shall be concluded before this 
 court by contract, and then confirmed by the au- 
 thority of the district, and the clergyman chosen 
 by the couple. 
 
 i 1 . Divorces can at any time be granted by this 
 court, for legal grounds. 
 
 12. The guilty party, whose offence shall 
 have given a cause for the divorce, shall be lia- 
 ble to damages at the suit of the injured party. 
 
 13. The children of divorced persons, shall be 
 brought up in the general institution of educa- 
 tion, for the security of their morals, without 
 distinction of age and condition. 
 
 14. Adultery shall be followed by divorce. 
 
 1.5. Diflerence of religion shall not be an im- 
 pediment to m.irriage. A couple resolved upon 
 marrying, against whom there is no other ob- 
 jection, can have recourse to this court, in ca.se 
 the parents give this as a ground of objection. 
 
 VII. 
 
 FaEEDOM OF CONSCIENCE. 
 
 I. Tliere shall be no predominant, so called 
 EfiligioQ of State. 
 
 2. Every form of %vor3hip shall be permitted, 
 unless it should contradict morality. 
 
 3. All natives of the country, or those who shall 
 have acquired tlie right of citizenship, shall be 
 under equal obligations to the state, under the 
 protection of the laws. 
 
 4. All intrigue of proselytism, of whatever na- 
 ture, shall be prohibited, and be punished by 
 law. 
 
 5. Religious instruction shall first commence 
 at the twelfth year, when youth is sufficiently 
 matured to comprehend the sublimity of reve- 
 lation. Every sect can pay their particular teach- 
 er, who will be allowed tile use of a room In the 
 schot.l building, an hour each day, under the 
 control of the national council. 
 
 G. Interments in churches are prohibited 
 No corpse can be buried within the city. 
 
 vrii. 
 
 UNIVERSAL PRINCIPJ.es. 
 
 I. One code of laws shall prevail throughout 
 the whole country, designed and carried out 
 according to the requirements of the age, and 
 founded upon nature and reason. 
 
 i. There shall be no civil oaths. The love 
 of country in the heart of the citizen shall ba 
 his obligation. The lost idea " honor " shall be 
 restored to life. 
 
 3. Every office holder shall be obliged to the 
 people faithfully to suj»port the law's, without 
 the formula of an oath. Offences against the 
 people by neglect of duty, shall be grounds of ' 
 legal complaint. 
 
 4. Every foreigner shall be under the pro- 
 tection of the laws as soon as he touches land. 
 
 5. Government shall be supported by pro- 
 gressive taxes upon property. 
 
 6. There shall be no taxes upon necessaries, 
 (indirect taxes.) 
 
 7. There shall be no duties, nor excise, etc. 
 
 8. Import duties upon articles of luxury will 
 be rendered superfluous by the progressive pro- 
 perty tax. 
 
 9. Highways and railroads shall be under th* 
 care of the state. 
 
 10. The perfection of all products of the 
 country, as well of nature as of industry and art, 
 shall be encouraged by premiums. 
 
 n. The state shall propose yearly prize ques- 
 tions in all the sciences. 
 
 12. Universal liberty of occupation. Abolition 
 of all compulsion of trade. No association, witJi 
 a community of goods, shall enjoy exclusive 
 privileges. 
 
 13. Every department of cultcre and industry 
 shall be represented and promo'ed by especial 
 district councils for that purpose. 
 
 14. Lotteries and stamps on paper are abol- 
 ished. 
 
 1.5. Luxury is a worm at the foundation of 
 the slate. 
 
 16. The simplest national costume shall pre- 
 vail among all clas.ses. No gold or silver shall 
 be worn on military uniforms. 
 
 17. All foreign fashions are infidelity to na- 
 tionality. 
 
 15. Whoever shall accept a rank, title or order 
 from any foreign monarchy, shall forfeit the bono? 
 of serving in the natloiial guard, and likewise 
 claims to office in fatherland.
 
 246 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 19. Offences against morality and persons by 
 the free press, shall, like all others, be a cause 
 of legal complaint. 
 
 20. Capital punishment shall only be inflicted 
 in cases of treason; all other crimes shall be 
 punished by confinement in the house of cor- 
 rection. 
 
 21. The house of correction for criminals will 
 be an institution of industry, in which they are 
 to be treated as suflerers. A third of the pro- 
 ceeds of the articles produced by the suflTiTcr in 
 the house of correction, shall be laid iside for 
 him in the " national savings bank," to be given 
 to him at the expiration of his term of punish- 
 ment. 
 
 22. Legislation and education are the first 
 duties of government. In education lies the 
 germ of the succeeding generation : legislation 
 maintains the dignity of the state. 
 
 23. All male and female teachers shall be 
 regarded as officers of the government of the 
 noblest railing. Their existence, until their de- 
 cease, shall be secured by an especial savings- 
 bank, under the protection of the state. 
 
 24. Woman will be revered as the noblest 
 work of creation. To woman is confided the 
 
 7. As long as it is no disgrace to be notfiiii* 
 else than rich, there is no hope for mankind. 
 
 8. The greatness of a nation does not consist 
 in the motion of its machines, nor in the exten- 
 sion of its commerce, nor in the enlargement )f 
 its boundaries, bat in the spirit with which it 
 represents tlie cause of humanity. 
 
 9. Private institutions, est,iblishments, and 
 found.itions ; what noble purpose they ever may 
 intend, will always remain " private," without 
 influence of the development and progress of tho 
 nation as a moral and spiritual power. 
 
 10. The gi-eatness of a st.ite depends not on 
 the number of its inhabitants, but upon the 
 spirit that animates the people in their efforts 
 after ennoblement. 
 
 11. Millions of slaves moulder in the grave ol 
 oblivion. A single man may raise tlie name of 
 his nation in the annals of mankind. 
 
 THE NATION AND HXTMANITY. 
 
 1. Eveiy man in the nation shall pay a fixed, 
 or a voluntai7 tax, for the promotion of humani- 
 ty, which the treasurer of the pillar shrill send by 
 
 improvement of the people to an elevated degree, the treasurer of the hall to the tre.snr.> of the 
 by the influence of females upon the education temple,' The directnrs of the temple shall an- 
 and moral perfection of mankind. | nually deliver a public accoun. 
 
 25. The maiden should be conscious of her I 
 
 2. Every temple shall establish the necessary 
 dignity', and'enhust her heart to no one who j printing presses, which are lo be conducted by 
 shall not have shown himself a man in the chosen officers 
 
 3. A separate printing press shall be estab- 
 
 nation. 
 
 2G. The mother should regard her children 
 as her choicest possession, which she consecrates 
 to fatherland. The feeling of love to fatherland 
 (patriotism) should be nourished and strength- 
 ened in the tender heart of the child, as the 
 purest and holiest after faith in God. 
 
 27. The highest aim of a maiden should be to 
 render the man happy, who belongs to the na- 
 tion, as if to thank and reward him for his efforts. 
 
 23. The purest endeavors of a youth should 
 be directed towards the development and per- 
 fection of his being, as a man in his nation, which 
 includes all virtues in itself. 
 
 29. A man's highest and noblest aim should 
 be to live and die for fatherland. 
 
 IX. 
 
 SENTENCE'S. 
 
 1. Intellectual activity is the highest. Hand- 
 labor stands higher than capital. Money has 
 no value in itself, but only as the means to a 
 noble end. 
 
 2. Property and possessions, unaccompanied 
 by mind and heart, are the brand on the forehead 
 of a criminal. 
 
 3. As difficult as it is for a rich man " to enter I 
 the kingdom of Heaven," so difficult is it for a 
 merchant to be a republican. A merchant 
 recogniises only his personal interest ; the re- 
 publican principle requires personal sacrifice 
 
 4. " There is no friendship in business," and 
 no principle on 'change. 
 
 5. A repviblic that recognises commerce as 
 the highest aim, and money as its element, is 
 not a republic, but a monarchy of the venal 
 slaves of mammon. 
 
 tj When money is an article of speculation, 
 man also is venal. 
 
 lished on behalf of the national council, in their 
 building. (See V. § 7.1 
 
 4. A popular newspaper shall appear every five 
 days, as the organ of the national council, at the 
 same time faithfully translated in several lan- 
 guages. 
 
 .'>. As soon as a national council shall be or- 
 ganized, it shall appoint as many " messengers of 
 communication" for other nations, as shall hav« 
 organized themselves in a similar manner, and 
 shall have joined the Humanita. 
 
 6. As each nation reciigni-ses but one national 
 council, it requires but one messenger for every 
 neighboring or distant nation. 
 
 7. National hospitality will provide for the 
 dwelling and subsistence of the " messengers ol 
 communication." 
 
 8. The messengers of communication shall 
 draw a salary, proportioned to their necessities, 
 from the treasuries of the temples, by which they 
 were api>ointed. 
 
 9. The messengers of communication (popu- 
 lar ambassadors) shall endeavor more and more 
 to strengthen the union of the nations, and pro- 
 mote great enterprises for the welfare of man- 
 kind. 
 
 10. The organ of the national council (see § ■! 
 above) shall e.s])ecially endeavor to avoid confu- 
 sion in their necessary labors, and particularly to 
 lighten the work of legislation. 
 
 11. There shall be a provisional committee, 
 on laws created in the usual mannei. Members 
 of the council, of the government, and of the 
 chamber, can also be elected to the committee 
 on laws. 
 
 12. The committee on laws, shall prepare an 
 
 • See the Organization Act, pi^ge 1S7, Dolores. In cai« 
 the " Bi.'Olt of Ormur" slioiil.l be printcj separately, llt« 
 Organization Act must precede it, as aa introJuQticn.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 247 
 
 jdition of a contlensed extract from all writings, 
 of all natioiK, in all ai?es, which relate tolo,'isla- 
 tion, or refer to useHil laws. The form of these 
 extracts shall be limited to paragraphs. The 
 spirit of the law, and not the mass of what is 
 written, is to be taken into consideration. Every 
 individual, who considers himself competent, 
 can take part in this compilation. Each extract 
 shall bear the name of the original author, and 
 shall he entitled " book," as, for instance : The 
 book of Moses, Samuel, Solon, Socrates, Plato, 
 etc. ; the book of Jesus, Muhammed, Marcus Au- 
 relius, Cicero, Beccaria, Montesquieu, Volney, 
 Rousseau, David Hume, Locke, etc.; Herder, 
 Seume, etc.; the books of the Chinese, Persians, 
 etc., etc. The whole compilation to form the 
 " Books of Humanity." 
 
 13. After the completion of these labors, 
 (about a year,) tlie melioration of the laws can 
 be proposed. Until thattirae, the statutes of the 
 organization, and the various provisional laws, 
 shall continue in force. 
 
 14. It would be ingratitude on the part of 
 mankind, not to improve the treasures, which 
 have been bequeathed to them, by the men of all 
 times, who have lived and died for tliem. 
 
 15. The presses of the temple (of the nation) 
 can be employed, in the mean time, on tlie above 
 Books of HuMianity. The nations of the nine- 
 teenth century may be ashamed that they do not 
 make use of what is before them for rational 
 legislation. 
 
 l(j. As a temple consists of 14,f>41 men, the 
 distribution of the editions of similar works, can 
 be arranged accordingly, apart from private 
 orders. It is of course understood, that liesides 
 the national printing presses, there may be as 
 many private presses, as may be requisite. 
 
 17. The regular meetings of the rocks and 
 pillars among themselves, or in committee, shall 
 be determined by the stat\ites. The committee 
 (council) of a pillar or liall can appoint popular 
 meetings, and announce the time and place, 
 through the national newspaper. 
 
 18. These popular meetings shall be designed 
 to animate the spirit of the nation, and promote 
 the cause of humanity, by festive military exer- 
 cises and public addresses. Similar national 
 festivals shall take place for the yearly distribu- 
 tion of prizes, for the promotion of industry, the 
 arts and sciences, agriculture, improvement in 
 the breed of cattle, etc. 
 
 We believe that it would not be so difficult to 
 promote the welfare of a nation, and to ellect the 
 deliverance of all mankind, if man would mani- 
 fest the will to be free. We deliver these words 
 to the nations of the earth, and hope to be un- 
 derstood, in whole and in part. We hope that 
 our pure intentions, which dictated these words, 
 may meet with the spirit of sympathy to be ex- 
 pected in the nobler nature of man. 
 
 We acknowledge, at the same time, that we 
 have to contend against egotism, and that our 
 work, which would be so simple and easy of ac- 
 complishment, will meet with all the difliculties 
 which selfishness on earth opposes to virtue. 
 But we, nevertheless, do not despair of mankind. 
 
 We believe in nature and reason, and there- 
 fore we act. May the nations comprehend the 
 spirit of these " words of a man," and may this 
 spirit .spread among every people, that the word 
 maj' become deed. Amen. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE ESCOHT. 
 
 It was two o'clock, one afternoon, when the 
 alfandega was closed, and the saloon of the ex- 
 change was gradjuUy being vacated. 
 
 A numerous train of cofi'ee negroes trotted 
 along the Rua Direita, towards the Largo do Pazo, 
 to receive, before some door there, the payment 
 for so many cotfee sacks sent, whereby each ne- 
 gro would, perhaps, obtain for himself a glass of 
 cachaz, while he truly and honestly delivered tu 
 his master every vintem that he received. 
 
 The train was a brilliant one that time. A 
 little old negro danced before, with a parti-co- 
 lored plaster image upon his gray wool : it waj 
 the statue of Napoleon, whose head was (very 
 naturally) colored black, as a sort of Ethiopian 
 divinity, with the "little corporal's" hat, and 
 arms crossed over each other, in high bottes fortes 
 — Napoleon himself, as emperor and as negro. 
 
 Near the " office bearer" ran the " tambour 
 minor," with his funnel instrument filled with 
 dry coffee beans, and bound over with a piece of 
 leather, whose rattle sounded afar, in the tropi- 
 cally clear atmosphere, more noisily than a 
 child's ivory rattle in a small family room. 
 
 Next followed the " chief standard bearer," & 
 " fine fellow," big as a small Goliath, with an 
 old crownless Hanoverian infantry shako on hi.i 
 head, ornamented with a quantity of worthless 
 ostrich feathers, wiiich had arrived in a chest 
 from Rio Negro, and had been swept out of the 
 alfandega with the sand. 
 
 In the right hand of the proud quasi giant, 
 fluttered a ragged old handkerchief upon a 
 rocket stick, and a half hundred of sweating 
 Ethiopians, naked as the wretchedness of their 
 fate, with make-believe "culottes" on their 
 hips, trotted behind the three principal person- 
 ages, and sang their monotonously melodious 
 " Doy-doyh ! Doy-doyh !" half out of breath, 
 for it was the beginning of January, and the 
 thermometer pointed to above a hundred degree* 
 of Fahrenheit. 
 
 A cavalcade of some thirty men, in uni- 
 forms, rode past the negro train ; it was the 
 lifeguard of the prince, Don Pedro Pecino. 
 (the little,) as the negroes usually called th« 
 boy. Behind the " infantry on horseback," 
 of which one lost a chacot, another a stirrup, 
 and another even a sword, (for they went upoa 
 the full gallop,) rolled the carriage of the future 
 emperor, Don Pedro the Second. The stale car- 
 riage was followed by two others, less brilliant, 
 filled with gold bedecked court functionaries, 
 while a train of galloping " infantry on horse- 
 back " endeavored to follow, as quickly as pos- 
 sible ; each did his best, to go as well as ever he 
 could, without slipping from his saddle. 
 
 The three passengers from the Nordstjernan, 
 Hinango, Alvarez, and Horatio, had agreed t» 
 meet Dr. Thorfin at the Hotel du Nord, t* 
 make arrangements for the voyage of Alvarez 
 to Rio Grande. They contemplated, from a 
 balcony, the tumult of the Rua Direita, the 
 train of slavery, and the train of the empire. 
 
 " A guard of cavalry who cannot ride ! hereim 
 Brazil, where there are provinces that possess 
 the most famous riders in all the world I'* ex- 
 claimed .\lvare7, observing the fifing stirrup*.
 
 e.jb8 
 
 ' I can- 
 
 end t>ie downfall of cfiacot and sword 
 nor cnmprehentl that I" 
 
 " We miy easily comprehend it, my dear Mr. 
 Daily," answered Dr. Thorfin, employing the 
 name of Alvarez' Titulo de Residencia, (police 
 iocunients " we may very well understand it, 
 when we reflect that the cavalry of Rio Grande 
 and St. Paolo are famous republicans, to whom, 
 at this time, the little person of the future em- 
 peror would hardly be entrusted." 
 
 " Tliere comes some more cavalry !" inter- 
 rupted Horatio, and the eyes of all were direct- 
 ed to a third train, thai entered the Rua Direita 
 from the Largo do Pazo. 
 
 " What is that !" cried some of the four. 
 
 " Come down ! we most see that nearer, 
 ilown below," observed Hinango, and all hasten- 
 ed down to the troop in front of the hotel. 
 
 It was a train of captive " rebels," faroupilhas, 
 from the interior of the country, arrived from 
 Porto Seguro, in a vessel of war, landed on the 
 place in front of the Hotel Faroux, and there 
 taken in custody by permanentos and gens 
 d'armes, to be registered before the command- 
 ant, and escorted to a prison. 
 
 The " peaceful citizens" of the principal 
 streets of Rio ventured in part to step out of 
 their doors, or upon their balconies, to contem- 
 plate the tiain, which was certainly as interest- 
 ing as imposing. 
 
 Slowly and gravely rode an officer, with a cor- 
 poral and twelve men in advance, casting threat- 
 ening glances around, as if he would say, 
 •' Look ! what these gentlemen have come to, 
 may happen to you also, if you are not servile 
 The officer, as well as his people, were white. 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 and tranquillity of soul. He wore a .sI.ito's capote 
 without a jjoutbo, and a line Minus liat. Next 
 liira walked a young delicate woman, in a rich 
 dress, without ornaments. A Mina.s l>ea\or liat 
 covered her head, whose hair, well arranged, 
 waved in the breatli of the gentle wind She 
 raised with lier right hand the heavy chain whicli 
 descended from the left arm of lior husband to 
 tlie ring on his foot, to lighten lii.s bonds for liini 
 Her lovely countenance, formerly of Brazilian 
 wliiteneps.'at the mercy of ■nind and storm for 
 months, had lost its blooming complexion, and 
 the legible traces of suflering and despair \ver9 
 displayed on her features of exalted womanhood. 
 
 All eyes lingered, as if riveted upon this pair, 
 and here and there, on a higli balcony, a feeling 
 Brazilian woman pressed her handkerchief to her 
 lips, in the pain of sympathy, and turned away 
 from this picture of sacred love and constancy. 
 
 Hardly had .\lvarez directed his :^lauce upon 
 this lady, than a ray penetrated him like light- 
 ning when it si ts fire to a palm tree. His coun- 
 tenance becami^ of a deadly paleness, he leaned 
 on Hinango's frm, shrank within himself, and 
 then, carried quite beside himself, exclaimed, 
 " It is she !" ha' f aloud, and crossed to the mid- 
 dle of the street where the train walked .dong. 
 
 His sister, the wife of Serafjni, had hitherto 
 gazed, from time to time, upon the countenance 
 of her husband, whose glance met hei-s. All 
 that surrounded l.er remained strange, and ap- 
 peared indifferent to her ; she looked not around 
 her. 
 
 .Suddenly a young man stepped into the path, 
 and, at the same instant, some gens d'armes also, 
 from the rear guard, came up to them both 
 
 It appeared that they would not honor any mu- 
 latto, or negro, with the bailifl''s office, for fear 
 that their uniform might cover a free human 
 heart, and endanger the state. The vanguard 
 was followed by the captives, with heavy chains 
 on their hands, that were fastened to one foot 
 en a ring. 
 
 According to the grade of criminality, men 
 walked in advance, whose countenances bore 
 the impress of the higher classes in the social 
 world, in coarse capotes, partly barefooted, and 
 partly in tamancas. Some yet wore their valua- 
 ble ponchos. Broad brimmed Minas hats, of 
 beaver or straw, covered their heads, which most 
 of them, in the consciousness of worth, held 
 proudly upright, while others, depressed by 
 grief and trouble, looked fixedly before them. 
 As if m irony, a half naked negro was thrust into 
 rank with his former master, who walked as a 
 criminal next him, because he had given free- 
 dom to him, and hundreds of other slaves, to lay 
 the foundation of the freedom of his fatherland, 
 
 A strong detachment of " infantry on horse- 
 hack" closed the train, which numbered some six- 
 ty captives, among whom were several women 
 and children. 
 
 The stillness of death reigned in the whole 
 street. The cabriolets, and c rriages, and ri- 
 ders, who casually came into the neighbor- 
 hood, halted ; the foot passengers remained 
 standing : all contemplated the escort ; no one 
 said a word. Many avoided betraying by their 
 looks, what they thought and felt. 
 
 Among the first captives, walked a tall, nobly 
 formed young man, with a pale, dignified coun- 
 tenance, whose exnression evinced moral force 
 
 Angelica !" cried Alvarez, in a tone that she 
 had only ever heard as a " voice of home." The 
 lady looked at the stranger, her countenance be- 
 came rigid with an inward convulsion ; all at 
 once, however, she seemed to recognise lier 
 brother. 
 
 "Alvarez! is it you? My God! Alvarez!" 
 cried she, and sank senseless into his arms. 
 
 "Forward!" commanded a corporal, touch- 
 ing with his sword the shoulder of Serafini, 
 who remained standing near his wife, and did 
 not obey the order. 
 
 The commanding officer of the vanguard had 
 remarked the so called tumult, and galloped 
 back. 
 
 " Who are yon ?" inquired he of the refugee 
 from La Plata, with a brutal mien and harsh 
 voice. 
 
 " I am the brother of this lady," said he, 
 trembling, as his sister hung upon him. bereft 
 of consciousness. "Help! help," exclaimed 
 he, without troubling himself with the bailiff. 
 
 Hinango ai.d Dr. Thorfin had not failed to 
 follow the steps of Alvarez, and now hastened 
 to carry the lady into a neighboring apotheca- 
 ry's shop. 
 
 The officer ordered her brother, with a con - 
 manding voice : " Remain here !" 
 
 " I remain here ? leave my sister in sncl a 
 situation ?" returned Alvarez, with violence. 
 
 "You will remain here! Who are y-.u ? 
 Where is your police certificate ?" inquireo the 
 other, brieflv and dryly. 
 
 We must recollect that Alvarez, like all stran- 
 gers, was obliged to have a titiilo de residencia 
 from the police, that he might not be exposed 
 
 A
 
 DOLORES 
 
 249 
 
 to tlie danger of bein^ taken up as a vagabond, 
 and placed amongst tlie permanentos. In con- 
 seqnence of this necessity, Robert Wallter had 
 given him tlie pass of his clerk, Habakkuk 
 Daily, upon whose name he had received his 
 certificate. 
 
 " What is your name .' what are you called ? 
 who are you .'"' inquired the officer, as Alvarez, 
 in the singular perplexity in which he found 
 himself, did not wish to show his police certifi- 
 cate, or announce its existence. 
 
 " My name is Alvarez de la Barca, from Cor- 
 rientes, on tlie Parana. 1 am the brother of this 
 lady," returned he, with self-possession. 
 
 " And you have no titulo de residencia .'" in- 
 terrupted the officer. 
 
 " De la Barca '." cried Serafini, who stood at 
 some distance in his rank, separated from Alva- 
 rez by gens d'armes. 
 
 The expression of this exclamation, which 
 comprised all the stormy sensations of the mo- 
 ment, penetrated the brother's heart, who had, 
 as yet, received no answer from Bahia, to his 
 manifold inquiries about the fate of his sister. 
 
 His letter from Rio had arrived there simul- 
 taneously with the intelligence that Sif;nore Se- 
 rafini had been arrested at his plantation, as a 
 faroupilha, and escorted to Porto Seguro. No 
 one dared to acknowledge, in a letter, that he 
 had ever heard the name of Madame Serafini, 
 or been in correspondence with her or her hus- 
 band. He was a prisoner, a state criminal, and 
 most correspondents in Bahia loved their per- 
 sonal safety. 
 
 Notwithstanding that the same prudence and 
 fear also prevailed in many of the " peaceful" 
 citizens in Rio, a crowd had collected about the 
 group, and the officer appeared to feel that " a 
 storm was brewing," in relation to the security 
 of his prisoners. 
 
 With sufficient presence of mind, therefore, 
 he commanded a corporal to bring the escort in 
 order, and hold the carbines *' ready to fire." 
 He then turned again to the " suspicious fel- 
 low," whi. announced himself as the brother-in- 
 law of the most culpable criminal, and informed 
 him that he was a prisoner. 
 
 At the same instant, a young Englishman 
 pressed through the crowd, and hastily stepped 
 up to the officer. It was Robert Walker, with 
 a disturbed countenance, already vividly irjte- 
 rested in the passage of the train, which he had 
 been gazing at from under the porch of the ex- 
 change. He was now afflicted in the highest 
 degree by the group, in which he saw his friend 
 from the Nordstjernan involved. 
 
 " What's the matter here .'" inquired he of 
 the bailiflT on horseback, while he seized the 
 hand of Alvarez. 
 
 " Don't you touch the prisoner, or " cried 
 
 the other to him, with a look that expressed the 
 conclusion of his threat. " Who are you .'" 
 said he, interrupting himself 
 
 " My name is Robert Walker — Englisman." 
 
 " Go home !" growled the gens d'arme. 
 
 " You have no right to order me," replied the 
 young Briton. " Why have you seized this gen- 
 tleman !" 
 
 " That's no concern of yours." 
 
 " That ceriainly is my concern, because I am 
 his friend, and I will guaranty for him, if bail 
 will be received for him, on his account." 
 32 
 
 " Then attend the prisoner to Jur bureau," 
 
 growled the officer. 
 
 " No," cried Alvarez, " I beseech you, Seuor 
 Roberto, hasten to ray sister, she is there at the 
 apothecary's." 
 
 " Your sister !" cried the youth, with an ex- 
 pression of amazement that bordered on terror. 
 
 " It is my wife !" resounded from the (rain of 
 captives. " It is Signora Serafini, my wife ; I 
 beseech you take care of her." 
 
 This petition of the unfortunate was evidenlly 
 occasioned by the explanation of the young En- 
 glishman, as that revealed in him the upright 
 character of a noble young man, who, in such a 
 strait, was ready to act for his friend, and wa3 
 favoreil by his national and social position. 
 
 The petition was not, however, requisite to 
 heighten Robert's sympathy, who now, with 
 equal presence of mind, gave his card to the 
 officer, and said : " Here is my name ; our count- 
 ing house is well known ; I will be at your 
 bureau in a moment." With the same despatch 
 with which he had spoken these words, he once 
 more pressed the hand of Alvarez, and whispered 
 in his ear ; " I will hasten to your sister, and then 
 come immediately to you." He then pressed 
 through the crowd that had assembled in front 
 of the apothecary's. 
 
 An officer of the national guard, on duty in 
 the neighboring guard house, had approached 
 theofRcer of gens d'armes, and inquired what was 
 passing. He learned that this man carried no 
 titulo de residencia, and, as the relative of a state 
 criminal, stood in connexion with " rebels,'" and 
 was arrested in consequence. 
 
 The citizen of Rio in uniform now inquired 
 of the Argentine refugee whether he had ac- 
 quaintance in the city. 
 
 *' No !" answered Alvarez, who possessed too 
 much discretion to name, in his present situa- 
 tion, any one whom his acquaintance would 
 compromise. 
 
 " You do not know this young man, then, the 
 young Englishman, Mr. Walker?" inquired the 
 gens d'arme officer, looking at the card which 
 the latter had handed to him.. 
 
 " No !" replied Alvarez, briefly and dryly, as 
 before. 
 
 The citizen heard the name of a well known 
 English house, and without appearing to be satis- 
 fied, noted the name of the prisoner. 
 
 The officer of" gens d'armes pushed the " vaga- 
 bond," Alvarez, into the train of faroupilhas, and 
 ordered some soldiers of his cavalcade to ride 
 near him. 
 
 The train now put itself in motion. The cor- 
 poral breathed more freely, and threw out his 
 chesi again, since his olficer was again in the 
 ascendant. The crowd had retreated to the 
 sidewalk, vvitliout bringing the security of the 
 faroupilhas in question. 
 
 Angelica had accompanied her husband from 
 tlie moment when they left Villa Tasso. The 
 journey led through inhospitable campos and 
 densely wooded valleys, through ravines and 
 gullies ; over trackh:ss mountains, whose sum- 
 mits occasionally overhung abysses, the view 
 li'om which, alone, was sufficient lo make a 
 man's head swim, while the hoi'se or mule, lell 
 to itself, found the way in an inconceivable man- 
 ner, and often planted its four hoo/s on a ledgo 
 of rock, whoso surface hardly comprised two
 
 230 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 sqv.a-c feet. Exposed by day to the burning 
 heat of the sun, and often to pouring thundcr- 
 sliovvnrs, the lady passed the night where the 
 prisoners were guarded, sometimes in an out- 
 feuilding of a venda, chacara, or fa/.enda, in a 
 ne>-ro hut, or in the lonely, desoLate dwelling ut a 
 "crimin-.sn," who had committed murder in some 
 place, and, not being politically suspicious, had 
 evaded justice, betaken himself to the wilder- 
 ness, and there established a fazenda, recognised 
 as a " criminoso," but not further molested. 
 
 Brazilian hospitality, which, as a national cus- 
 tom, st.inds as sreatlvto the honor of the people 
 as to the convenience of travellers, certamlv af- 
 f uded every .ittention to the delicate lady, where 
 ti.e escort met with men, and she encountered 
 manv tonchina traits of heartfelt sympathy 
 where she could have hardly expected it. But 
 seldom, almost never, did she quit the neighbor- 
 hood of the idace where her husband was guard- 
 ed, and positively refused to occupy a conven- 
 ient apntment, when he w;« obliged to repose 
 his grief burdened head under the open sky, a 
 rest'^that seldom strengthened him. , , „ 
 
 In the town which the escort reached alter 
 some days journey, more captive f"Oup.lhas 
 were added to tlie planter from \ lUa Ta=»o, and 
 their number increased, until they arrived a 
 Porto Seguro, and particul.irly in that depot ot 
 rebels, to such compass as we have remarked in 
 the Rua Direita. ,_ , u j r 
 
 A man-of-war transported the whole band of 
 "scoundrels" (as the royalists contemptuously 
 designated them.) towards Riode Janeiro, where 
 they at length arrived, after full two months of 
 such wearisome and troublesome travel, ine 
 ■vessel was anchored near the fortress of V il- 
 ganhon, where the prisoners were to obtain 
 " free onarters," so soon as they had passed the 
 inspection of the authorities in the capital, who 
 were constantly occupied with criminal in\ esti- 
 mations against" the rebels of all the provinces. 
 
 Angelica f.und herself, at her debarkation, in 
 a nerv'.us state that requires no turther descrip- 
 tion, when we look back upon the physical ex- 
 ertion and endurance of such a J™'-n<^.v. ^"^ 
 upon the state of mind which must undoubtedh 
 have overpowered her. , , . •„ f„,. 
 The choice was afforded her, to remain foi 
 the present, on board with her attendants, and 
 go on shore'alone with them, or to separate her- 
 telf from her people, in case she was fe^'^l^d 
 to accompany her husb.md into the city as there 
 would be no place for her Ibur servants in the 
 " prison building," where she might alone, per- 
 chance, find a cell. .„ !,„ 
 
 Her choice was soon decided; she gave her 
 effects to the charge of a black chambermaid, 
 who had, with touching constancy and steadtast- 
 . ness, borne all the hardships of the journey at 
 her hxdv's side, and she appeared with her hus- 
 band in the escort, where we have ^'^enhev 
 
 Alvarez had five years before departed toi IJar- 
 celona, while she remained in Cornentes, and 
 after their ir.other-s death, sought a situation as 
 ec>-erness. Her talenU and character were a 
 autlicient rcc.mmendation to procure her sucli 
 emwlovment anyv,h?.-e. It happened that a 
 rcUilive of Signore Serari,.:, from Bahia, on a 
 visit in Bu.nos Ayres, wanted ^^ .V°"''S '•';'> .[" 
 her capacity as a companion ; she travelled with 
 Uia family, where Signore Serafini became ac- 
 
 quainted with her, and after a year of bw.I 
 intercourse, ofTered her his hand. Sheiued in 
 the midst of domestic happiness at Villa Tasso, 
 where we first observed her, and had since made 
 every endeavor to impart the intellisence to her 
 brother in Europe, and invite him to her house. 
 
 \lvarez travelled about in Spam for a long 
 time, prosecuting the slightest trace of his uncle 
 wherever it glimmered upon bun— but soon be- 
 came an object of attention to the same priestly 
 parly, who, as it appeared, still well remembered 
 his uncle. ,. 
 
 He l.ibored here and there as a type se ter, 
 and occasionally accepted an engagement as 
 chorus singer at the opera, under some dramatic 
 
 name or other. .i,„r'K.;o 
 
 The uninterrupted struggle between the Chns- 
 tinos and Carlisis, separated every year more 
 and more, upon the Castilian peninsula, the 
 principle of absolutism from its opposite one of 
 freedom ; and it is well known that a republican 
 partv developed itself, in whose battalions man> 
 members of " Young Europe" carried arms, who, 
 after the failure of the " Expedition of S'J'oy- 
 were scattered with the organization of the Union 
 into all parts of the world. . 
 
 Alvarez harmonized with the spirit of the 
 Union, while he recognised its principles as hi3 
 own. 
 
 We may recall to ourselves the reminiscence 
 of Hinango about their former acquaintanc_e, 
 and so the more easily explain to ourselves the 
 circumstances which subjected the correspon- 
 dence of the South American in Spain to the 
 control of the police. It was not surprising that 
 no letter from him reached his sister, and that 
 he received no answer from Bah.a. He returned 
 to his own country, and with respect to the 
 secret police, came " out of the frying pan into 
 
 There exists* a European secret police, in all 
 parts of the world, which controls, with the 
 S^reatest consistency, the movements, travels, 
 and correspondenceof proscribed persons, wliose 
 character and consequence is sufficiently known 
 to despotism to deserve its attention , 
 
 No political combination, since the society of 
 Illuminati, founded in Germany by Wcisshaupt, 
 (and bv the way,betraved by the German aulliol 
 of " Solitude,"" Dr. Zimmerman, physician o 
 the court of Hanover,) has been persecuted with 
 such strictness and watchfulness, on the part ol 
 European courts, as "Young Europe, and. 
 
 nerhaps, for very natural reasons. 
 
 DesDotism, recognising its position as royalty, 
 may very well heap curse and ban upon a union 
 (and seii"tence to death tliose members V'ho sus- 
 tain the siiirit of the union in their individuality) 
 whose principles are plainly and clearly spoken 
 in lit.-i^irv works, threatening danger to Old 
 Europe" ind to the principle of nation-devouring 
 legitimacy; especially by strujglii.g, with in el- 
 leanal power, against ordinances which contra- 
 dict nature and reason. 
 
 .\lthou 'h Hinanijo had given to his associate, 
 Bari'aldi; on board the Nordstjernan, a confi- 
 dontial report concerning the "tension of the 
 Union, which, strictly speaking, should belong 
 
 . In a novel of our epocb-the author it obUged t« 
 
 ■ueuk in present li/ae.
 
 DOLORES 
 
 951 
 
 tc (he materials of this work, we can, neverthe- 
 less, only contemplate these documents from a 
 distance, since it would Ije difficult to force our 
 way into the cabin of the well armed Mazzini, 
 and revid them there. We may, however, inti- 
 mate that a transatlantic republic, peopled by 
 Spaniards, offered to the committee of " Young 
 Europe" a loan of four millions of French francs, 
 in case the Union would again rear its standard 
 in Europe, and enter into alliance with the re- 
 publics of South America, as the Union of 
 Humanity. 
 
 Through what medium this historically me- 
 morable offer was made, and what hindrances lay 
 at that time in the way of the fulfilment of such 
 a plan, must remain unknown, until perhaps 
 future events shall bring about a similar alliance 
 of humanity, and reveal facts which will tend 
 to the honor of the spirit of the Union, before 
 friend and foe. 
 
 Hundreds of the proscribed individuals of 
 " Young Europe," escorted toward England from 
 the continent, through the above mentioned con- 
 sistent persecution on the part of despotism, dis- 
 persed into all parts of the world, and many 
 separated from the spirit of the Union, as their 
 fate separated them from their associates. Of 
 course these could no more be dangerous to the 
 enemy. 
 
 Here and there, however, one remained true 
 to the cause for wliich he had declared himself, 
 and wherever fate led him — he stood under the 
 inspection of European espionage. 
 
 We may now, all the more readily, explain to 
 ourselves how it occurred, that neither Angelica 
 nor her brotlier had been able to procure that 
 intelligence of each other which each so earnest- 
 ly desired. 
 
 Signora Serafini had valid grounds for believ- 
 ing her brother dead, or for the surmise that he 
 was in chains, in a similar manner with her hus- 
 band. 
 
 Dwelling with him in spirit more than ever 
 before, during the journey from Villa Tasso 
 until her arrival in the Rua Direita, in Rio, she 
 had cften recalled all the remembrances of her 
 childhood passed at his side. Suddenly a man 
 appeared to her there, in whose features she 
 certainly recognised an evident family resem- 
 blance — whose appearance, however, as a living 
 creature, in the principal street of the Brazilian 
 imperial city, was as a phantom to her. Hardly 
 had her name sounded, in that voice which com- 
 prised in one single tone of sorrow all the remem- 
 brances of childhood, than her physical strength, 
 Bulfering and shattered by the circumstances that 
 surrounded her, sank under the nameless eSecl 
 of this impression. She fell senseless, and only 
 regained her consciousness in the loja of the 
 apothecary, where she now remained in an arm- 
 chair, under Dr. Thorfin's attendance. 
 
 " Where is Carlo? where is my husband?" 
 inquired she, when she at length unclosed her 
 eyes, and saw entirely strange faces, as she 
 gazed wildly round her. 
 
 Hinango and Horatio, with Dr. Thorfin, who 
 stood nearest to her of the sympathizing group, 
 looked at each other, as if consulting how they 
 should answer the question. 
 
 " - Where am I >" how came I here ?" in- 
 quired the sullijrer, after a pause, becoming 
 
 more and more conscious of the objects that 
 surrounded her. "Have we arrived in Rio de 
 Janeiro?" continued she. '* Does this building 
 belong to the prison where my husband lies iu 
 chains .'" 
 
 Dr. Thorfin now mildly explained to her, that 
 she had been seized with a fainting fit, and was 
 separated for the moment from her husband, 
 whom she would see again, so soon as her 
 strength would permit. 
 
 She remained silent, and appeared absorbed in 
 the contemplation of an image which she saw 
 with her spiritual eye. All partook of the silence. 
 " 1 recollect now, how I became ill here," 
 continued she, after a long pause. ** We have 
 been upon the journey for two months — my 
 streiigtii has been overcome by manifold hard- 
 ships — and — and I have been obliged to leave 
 my two children behind, at home — -it was im- 
 possible for me to bring them. All these suf- 
 ferings have destroyed my nerves — a fever 
 seized me — a paroxysm of delirium, there — out 
 there — when 1 was — walking along beside my 
 husband. I thought of Alvarez, my brother — 
 felt what a consolation it would be i'or me, if I 
 knew him to be there at home with my children 
 while I was here with Carlo, in the neighbor- 
 hood of his prison — then I was seized with a 
 feverish fancy, and it seemed to me as if I saw a 
 man before me — so like my deceased mother — 
 
 and as if 1 heard the voice of Alvarez 
 
 " But it was, unhappily, only a feverish fan- 
 cy !" sighed she, sinking back in her armchair. 
 
 Robert now entered, and Dr. Thorfin beckoned 
 to him to be silent. 
 
 " Will you have the goodness to accompany 
 me to my husband ?" continued she, after another 
 pause. 
 
 " Your husband has sent me to you," said 
 Robert, now speaking. " iVIy name is Walker. 
 I am an Englishman, lately from Buenos Ayres, 
 here on a visit to my uncle. Honor me with 
 some commission. May I conduct you, for the 
 present, to my hotel, just here in the neighbor- 
 hood ? Shall 1 take your efi'ects from on board 
 the vessel, and bring them to you ?" 
 
 " From Buenos Ayres ?" returned Angel- 
 ica, half to herself " From La Plata river ?" 
 from my home .' — I thank you — you have then 
 spoken to my husband? Where is he ?" 
 
 " He lias just been taken into the bureau, and 
 will soon receive permission to see you." 
 
 " I thank you ; I will avail myself of your 
 sympathy. I must beg you to send some one on 
 board of the vessel in which we arrived to-day 
 from Porto Seguro. I must order my servants — 
 they are blacks — to come on shore with my 
 efl'ects — my waiting-maid is named Helena. May 
 I trouble you with these requests ? Helena 
 might — bring some linen for my husband — if 
 the ellects are not all delivered. I hope they 
 will allow him to change his linen — this even- 
 ing—and his bed, his mattress — Helena must 
 bring that on shore likewise. May I troubla 
 you with these requests !" 
 
 Robert protested his readiness to fulfil her 
 commissions, and repeated his wish to be al- 
 lowed first to conduct her to a hotel, to which 
 the lady assented. 
 
 A Portuguese cadeira (an old fashioned post- 
 chaise, with curtains, drawn by two negroes) 
 was procured, iu which the lady took her seat.
 
 252 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 and soon arrived in front of the neighboritiff 
 Hotel .Iv Nord. 
 
 Pr 1 hxruTi iirorurcd fen:ia]p attp-nrlsnre in tlio 
 aparhncnt of the lady, and prescribed, aa phy- 
 sician, the necessary means for refreshing and 
 Btrentcthenin^ her. 
 
 Before Robert hurried on board, the doctor 
 gave him a hint to k-eep the existence of Alva- 
 rez ill Rio secret from the lady, for the present, 
 as she considered the encounter a feverish fancv, 
 and the intelligence of her brother's arrest 
 would only, at this moment, heighten her sor- 
 row. 
 
 The friends from the Nordstjernan lingered in 
 a saloon of the hotel, in consaltation concerning 
 the event which had led to the dangerous arrest 
 of Alvarez. 
 
 Tlie Baron de Spandau, " everywhere and 
 nowliere," where there was " any news," rushed 
 into the saloon where they were sitting, and in- 
 quired, with great animation, after the health of 
 the lady of whose fainting he had just heard. 
 
 The friends answered him as coldly as the 
 warm climate of Brazil permitted, which did 
 not seem at all to surprise the obtrusive spy. 
 
 " And your friend, I hear, has also been ac- 
 cidentally arrested,"' said he to the doctor. "The 
 young man that lives with you — Mr. Daily, or 
 whatever his name is — the musician, or type 
 setter, or whatever he is .'" 
 
 " Arrested ! I do not believe that !" replied 
 the other, with the utmost indifference. " I 
 was in the apothecary's shop when the escort 
 went off; I believe he only followed the crowd. 
 We know nothing about his arrest." 
 
 " Indeed ! you did not know that he had been 
 arrested .' but you know that he recognised the 
 young lady, the wife of a faroupilha, as his sis- 
 ter, and she declared him to be her brother .'" 
 
 " I do not know his family relations," replied 
 the other, with the same i.ndifl'ercnce as before. 
 " If 1 can be of service to him, through my 
 acquaintance here, perliaps in obtaining his re- 
 lease, it shall be done with pleasure. You 
 know, doctor, I take a warm interest in the un- 
 fortunate, especially when I find that they have 
 respectable connexions, as, for example, this 
 young Mr. Daily, your guest." 
 
 " He will certainly be much obliged to you 
 for your sympathy, Senhor Baron. Perhaps you 
 may sooner learn his relations throu-jh your ac- 
 quaintance than through us; for, although he 
 lives with me, my discretion has prohibited me 
 from prying into his secrets. It is well known, 
 that almost every man has his own peculiar se- 
 crets, or family affairs — affairs of the heart, and 
 political alTairs ; and there are people in our 
 time who make a business of such secrets." 
 
 " Certainly, doctor," replied the baron, a lit- 
 tle embarrassed, for he had remarked, long 
 since, that the doctor entertained suspicion 
 against him; "Certainly, doctor! every diplo- 
 matist even makes a business of secrets." 
 
 He took his leave in all haste, to inform him- 
 self, in some of the bureaux, " from pure sym- 
 pathy," of the particulars of the arrest, in the 
 nope uf soon seeing Dr. Thorfiii again, and left 
 the hotel. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE LOVING HEART. 
 
 Since the moment in which a sntiering wif*s 
 of a [iractical man, who had once led or se- 
 duced her to the altar, had lost in Robert's arms 
 the consciousness of the world of sense, and 
 awaked to the consciousness of love, the latter 
 found himself in the circumstances of a man 
 who has received his sentence of death, and 
 looks forward to the hour of his execution. 
 
 Tlie next morning after that memorable night, 
 he left his [lavilion very early, to ride, as if 
 seeking at a distance that tranquiUily of soul 
 which was now for ever destroyed within him. 
 
 Robert had never been beloved. The senti- 
 ment of love, which, in our material century, 
 is ridiculed as " sentimentality," (while with- 
 out this sentiment, every social connexion of 
 both sexes is a crime against nature,) had long 
 ago seized him, since, in daily confidential in- 
 tercourse with this unfortunate woman, he l.ad 
 become acquainted with her mind, and attracted 
 towards her by mutual sympathy of soul. His 
 love was pure. 
 
 It cipuld never be to his I'eproach, to be pene- 
 trated by a feeling, the reciprocation of which 
 might lead to a so called social crime, (in so far 
 as the pure love of Senhura Gracia pa,sscd for 
 such.) Feeling depends not on our will, and if 
 the will is able to extinguish " feeling," it has 
 never been feeling. 
 
 It remained in this, as in a thousand similar 
 cases, difficult to decide which of the two had 
 the most to reproach themselves with, or whe- 
 ther both did not stand irreproachable before 
 their own consciences, as before God, 
 
 Gracia recognised in Robert's society, in the 
 retrospect upon her married life, that she had 
 not been beloved, that she had never loved. 
 The case occurred in her, which Dr. Thorfin, 
 in his theory of " conjugal apathy," placed in 
 the third class, among thousands and thousands 
 of similar cases, in the Social world of all civil- 
 ised countries. 
 
 Both loved each other. Gracia's love, also, 
 was pure ; so pure as a heart was able to love, 
 under destroying influences of social bonds — 
 which " condemned her love to death," together 
 with her inward life — her soul. But an eternal 
 labyrinth of contradictions and inquiries of ori- 
 ginal womanhood was now revealed to the un- 
 fortunate woman — while the question arose 
 whether Robert's love was not ratlier a conse- 
 quence of her inclination to him, a result ot 
 his noble-minded sympathy in her misfortunes, 
 tlian original aflinity of .soul.' 
 
 Tllis question, perhaps the most original of 
 female orisinality, (we know no oilier term for 
 tllis inexplicable weakness,) now created in her 
 that just as womanly original self-torture, bjr 
 which she ernbitleied, for herself and her lover, 
 a life tliat had already become wretched enough 
 through her love. 
 
 Gracia had never known love — her heart had 
 no idea of love, as that synipatliy of soul which 
 " believeth all things, endureth all tilings, hupeth 
 all things"' — whilst it, as love, at the same time, 
 comprises within itself religious surrender — be- 
 lief in love. 
 
 •\ud that is iust the eflect of sympathy of soul.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 253 
 
 to elerafe men into the element of the higher 
 spiritual existence. 
 
 Materialism denies love, because it denies the 
 Deity ; it names " love" sexiia! instinct, whicti is 
 proper to every animal, and follows the instinct 
 in the formation of social connexions. 
 
 But wo to those who make a mistake in their 
 choice, Uniting with themselves for ever a beins; 
 whose inward life stands as rigidly opposed to 
 them as love is to instinct, as spirit to matter. 
 
 It is, however, a remarkable and almost inex- 
 plicable phenomenon, that men, by their abstract 
 materialism incapable of love, in thousands of 
 cases, choose to form a social connexion with 
 exactly those bein2;s whose individuality stands 
 as rigidly opposed to them as fire to water, and 
 that such beinfjs, in thousands and thousands of 
 cases, allow themselves to be deceived, con- 
 founding love with instinct. 
 
 According to the ordinances of the social 
 world, woman is robbed of her personal and 
 moral freedom. As a maiden with property, 
 nhe is exposed to the speculations of a man who 
 makes advances to her in order to niarry her 
 property. As a maiden without fortune, she is 
 the care of her parents, whose so called social 
 duty consists especially in providing for their 
 (laughter— in getting her well married. An or- 
 phan without property, like Gracia, is the most 
 unfortunate creature that can exist upon any one 
 of the planets for a higher destination, since the 
 despotism of social regulations robs her of the 
 right of maintaining her personal and moral in- 
 dependence by a free choice in her love, and 
 often exposes her, besides, to the ill usage of 
 heartless relatives. 
 
 To an orphan in such a situation, only two 
 ways remain open : either as soon as possible to 
 iell her body for life to sustain her outward ex- 
 istence ; or, in case no one desires in all haste 
 to purchase her, to seek, in some way or other, 
 according to the measure of her cultivation and 
 her talents, a more worthy situation, provisionally 
 renouncing her " social destination" as woman, 
 to maintain her moral freedom through the avails 
 of her industry. 
 
 In the latter position, a female Would be less 
 likely to fall into the possession of a proprietor, 
 as an article of merchandise, if social regulations 
 did not burden her with the absurd contractions 
 of personal freedom, which (apart from all com- 
 panionable intercourse) even refuses her the 
 correspondence with any youth or man, or re- 
 gards it as a social offence in case she has not 
 already proclaimed herself to be the property of 
 the correspondent. 
 
 The more deeply we penetrate into the ab- 
 surdity of similar regulations of our age, so much 
 the more striking appears the inexplicable phe- 
 nomenon that an intellectual female, in thou- 
 sands of cases, voluntarily allows herself to be 
 deceived, availing herself of the first approaches 
 of a man, to guaranty her '* social destiny as wo- 
 man," since she at least binds herself by a pro- 
 mise, if the social union at the altar does not 
 take place until years after. 
 
 Opposed to the female nature, often distin- 
 guished by a touchingly unpretending modesty, 
 we see, in a thousand cases, the impudent arro- 
 gance of selfishness apparent in the choice of the 
 man ; since, let him be aa unintellectual and 
 •oulless as he may, he takes to himself a female 
 
 who in intellectual respects surprisinsl.v exreeds 
 him, allhouRh he he not " a nran of quality," 
 «ho might presume to make pretentions to such 
 a woman ! In the natural, unpretending mo- 
 desty of the woman, and in this impudent arro- 
 g\nce of the man, is not only to be found in part 
 the solution of this inexplicable phenomenon, 
 but unhappily, also, in great part, the evil of 
 social incongruities, the source from which mani- 
 fold social crimes are derived. 
 
 Robert had ended his ride on that morning, 
 and betook himself as usual to his counting house, 
 more than ever oppressed with inward disqui- 
 etude, and sti'uggling against the impulse which 
 attracted him towards home, to inquire after 
 the health of his friend. He was about to leave 
 the city earlier than usual, as he stood, after two 
 o'clock, under the porch of the exchange, and 
 perceived the tr.iin of arrested faroupilhas, and 
 soon after the crowd around the group, in which 
 he recogni.sed Alvarez as the |)rincipal person. 
 
 Weknowtowhat oilers he was impelled by 
 his noble heart, that throbbed more warmly and 
 actively than ever with the exalted sentiments 
 which the glance of his beloved had consecrated 
 within him. 
 
 Connected with all the other circiimstances, 
 there were two negroes and negresseg (whoso 
 transportation from one province of Brazil into 
 another is charged with duty and excise) to be 
 landed as merchandise from on board the vessel 
 of war. Habituated as Robert was to all sorts 
 of business, the landing and visitation of the 
 etlect.') neverthtfless demanded time. A special 
 permit must be obtained from the guarda mor, as 
 the oliices of the alfandega were already closed. 
 He had to run and to explain, and hour after hour 
 passed over, until at length, towards sundown, 
 he arrived with the attendants and eflects of 
 .Scnhora Serahni at the hotel. 
 
 With more eagerness of impatience than ever 
 before, and with such inward longing as perhaps 
 a woman has rarely experienced while waiting 
 for her friend, Gracia looked forward to the re- 
 turn of Robert, as the hands of her watch had 
 reached the hour at which he generally appeared 
 to dinner. 
 
 A whole hour had elapsed beyond the usual 
 time — and yet another — and another — and still 
 Robert did not appear. 
 
 In what a labyrinth of care, of fear, and of 
 anxiety, was the poor unfortunate woman sunk, 
 during those hours? Robert had disappeared in 
 the morning without greeting her after breakfast, 
 or saying adieu to her, as he had always done 
 before. 
 
 What had passed within him since the last 
 eventful meeting ? (which she remembered with 
 about the same indistinctness, as did Senhora 
 Serafini her meeting with her brother,) which 
 presented itself to her mind like a dream of de- 
 lirium. Had he formed the resolution to Ibrsako 
 her, to part from her for ever .' Perhaps be- 
 cause she now appeared unworthy of his love? 
 Perhaps because she had lost his respect after 
 she, the wife of another, seized with faintiicss, 
 had lost her conciousness on his breast .' 
 
 Did he perhaps love her, notwithstanding? 
 Was love the cause, the reason of his resolution 
 to separate from her ? And whither had he fled ? 
 Whore was he ; Where did he linger ? Who
 
 854 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 now shared his society, which always wrought 
 80 animatinsfly upon her ? Who now, in con- 
 versation with him, gazed into his eye, whose 
 glance had obtained such a mysterious power 
 over her ? Perhaps a woman — perhaps a fe- 
 male friend ? These, and similar heartrending 
 anxieties, considerations, and questions, tor- 
 mented the unfortunate woman. She saw the 
 table covered for three hours, and soon it was 
 three and a half. The nesresses came with a 
 stupid question ; whether tiie .Senhora would not 
 dine alone, as Senhor Roberto probably would 
 not come .' 
 
 " Not come !" resounded in her sorrowful 
 breast; and perhaps she would not have seated 
 herself alone at tliis table foi weeks ; we will not 
 say : never, for .Senhora Gracia vi^as a woman, 
 and a woman is more strongly supplied with 
 philosophical selt'-control than man. 
 
 There lies an error in the designation : the 
 " weaker sex." There are more women who 
 declare Werther to be a fool, and cannot con- 
 ceive why he shot himself, than there are men 
 who, capable of such love, would be able to en- 
 dure the horrible lot of knowing the woman to 
 whom they were attached by love, to be in the 
 ai'ms of another. 
 
 The sun went down in tropical splendor and 
 magnificence. A purple veil was thrown over 
 the whole chain of mountains, behind which it 
 disappeared. Suddenly tlie glowing red of the 
 mountain summits faded into violet, tiien into a 
 dusky, azure blue, which became even more 
 dusky; and the mountain ridges now glittered, 
 like a sharp " silhoutte," upon the green and 
 yellowish blue horizon. 
 
 Horse hoofs clattered up the rock upon the 
 terrace on which the pavilions stood. The heart 
 of the suHisrer found hardly room enough in her 
 breast for its violent movement. '* It is he !" 
 cried she, and hurried into Robert's pavilion, 
 while Maria opened the gate, through which a 
 passing confidant of the tiaron might have been 
 able to see her, if she had remained in the gar- 
 den. 
 
 Robert relinquished the bridle of his horse to 
 the negro who usually attended him, and hurry- 
 ing through the garden to the pavilion of his 
 friend, did not find her, but beheld her through 
 the open window at his writing-desk. He flew 
 over the space tliat divided them, and found him- 
 eelf immediately in the presence of Madame 
 Closting. 
 
 Pale as a marble statue, .Senhora Gracia rose 
 from her seat. With downcast eyes, she tot- 
 tered to her friend, moved her hand tremblingly 
 to meet tlie pressure of his, endeavored to speak, 
 and could utter nothing but the low, hardly 
 audible words : " Robert, can you still respect 
 me ?" 
 
 " My God, Gracia ! respect you .'" exclaimed 
 Robert, while he struggled against the violent 
 motion which this question of feminine innocence 
 excited witliin him. "How came you by this 
 question r by the thought which lies at the foun- 
 dation of this apprehension ? poor, dear, noble 
 woman !" he sighed, pressing her hand, and 
 (the utmost that he durst permit himself in his 
 discreet shyness) imprinting a kiss upon her fore- 
 head, as her head sank upon his breast. 
 
 " Wliat anxiety have I endured on your ac- 
 
 count !" began now the tender crenturt. "Where 
 were you so long .' I feared that you Ijad " 
 
 "Gone away.'"' said Robert, smiling; " nOi 
 my friend — wlien I am going away I will take a 
 farewell kiss from you with me, and leave be- 
 hind with you, instead, what will do you no 
 good — and what I can never obtain again upon 
 earth ! — never I" 
 
 " Horrible !" sighed Grocia — and Robert found 
 it salutary to interrupt, by a relation of the 
 causes which had prevented him from appearing 
 at the usual time, the situation in which both 
 found themselves. So soon as he had uttered 
 the words " the arrival of a lady," the poor wo- 
 man shrank back convulsively. 
 
 " A lady has arrived .'" cried she ; " a lady of 
 your acquaintance — a female friend ? How long 
 is it since you have seen her .'" inquired she, 
 hastily, gazing at him with a confused glance. 
 
 " Come to dinner, and 1 will tell you all about 
 it quietly. How could you be so terrified at the 
 first word of my report ?" 
 
 Both walked into the dining-room of the 
 " Villa Gracia," as Robert named her pavilion. 
 He bound the napkin around the little neck of 
 the " little one," seated her upon her little chair 
 next himself, and the " little one " ate her soup, 
 while the friend of her mother continued : " A 
 young lady from the interior of the country " 
 
 " Young ! a young lady, do you say .' — you 
 ought not to look at a young lady !" interrupted 
 the amiable Brazilian, with all the vivacity of 
 her tropical temperament. 
 
 Robert could not restrain his hearty laughter, 
 and proposed an agreement that she sliould listen 
 to him quietly, until he had arrived at a pause 
 in his relation. 
 
 " But you must not tell a long story about the 
 young lady ; that I will not allow. I can and will 
 hear nothing about a young lady for whom you 
 ran about three hours, and — left me here alone." 
 
 " Well, then, 1 will tell you quickly. You 
 know what a persecution prevails in the interior 
 of the country, as well as here, against the 
 faroupilhas " 
 
 " Against the rebels ! Yes, I know that ; they 
 deserve no better." 
 
 " Then you are a royalist, as I just now hear !" 
 inquired Robert, with amazement. " Is it pos- 
 sible ! I did not know that." 
 
 " My husband is " she was just finishing 
 
 the sentence she had begun, when she suddenly 
 stopped, and with a crimson blush concealed 
 her face, and for a long time did not dare to look 
 up again. 
 
 The involuntary allusion to her social positior 
 shocked Robert not less than it startled her. The 
 thought that a man existed, to whom the earthly 
 covering of the soul that loved him belonged as 
 lawful property, agitated him all the more in 
 contrast with the emotion in the mind of the wo- 
 man, which the slightest suspicion occasioned, 
 that he, on his part, had only spoken to a female. 
 
 " Forgive me !" repeated Gracia, offering him 
 her little hand, " I was over hasty " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, you were over hasty," interrupt- 
 ed Robert, taking the word in an entirely differ 
 ent signification, with reference to an event 
 that accurred five years before; "you certainly 
 were over hasty, and might as well have waited 
 
 until nevertheless," p\irsued he, " I will 
 
 continue my relation. The arrests in the interior
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 255 
 
 »re going forivard, and t.i-day an escort arrived 
 here wit*! faroupilhas. The greater part were 
 from the hi^^her classes of society ; among others, 
 a Signore Seraiini " 
 
 "An Italian, then?" interrupted his friend. 
 " I cannot bear the Italians — that you know." 
 
 " I know that many, besides you, cannot bear 
 them," remarked Robert, " and that pains me, 
 for 1 feel that it is as hard for a nation to be un- 
 understood as it is for a man. On the river La 
 Plata there are many Italians, and I love them 
 as I do their nation, apart from the glory of 
 the nation in science and arts. Serafini is, be- 
 sides, a Brazilian, born in Brazil, like thousands 
 of Portuguese — will you suppress, for a moment, 
 your natural antipathy, you little Portu-guese .'" 
 
 " I Portuguese ."' exclaimed the young lady, 
 half serious, half laughing. " That I deny ! I 
 am a Brazilian ! and you may see, by my com- 
 plexion, that Indian blood flowed in my ances- 
 tors — genuine Brazilian — and I am proud of it." 
 
 " That is true," said Robert, laughing. " I 
 have long since made the observation that you 
 were proud — and that particularly pleased me, 
 as I, also, am a ' proud Englishman,' as they call 
 us." 
 
 " And you appear to be a republican !" which 
 they are not generally — the English — so far as 1 
 have heard. 
 
 " I have liad a tendency to republicanism, since 
 I must admire the struggles of the Orientals 
 against Rosas," replied the "young Englishman ;" 
 " and I became more and more clear upon the 
 voyage and since I have been here — especially 
 by manifold contact with the fugitives from La 
 
 Plata river — on board tlie Nordstjernan and 
 
 through the example of my sister." 
 
 " Sister !" interrupted Gracia, with her cus- 
 tomary vivacity ; " then you have a sister — 
 indeed .' who came with you from Buenos 
 Ayres ? I read her name in the Jornal do 
 Commercio, in an old number, lately, in your 
 pavilion, as I arranged the flowers. Is "your 
 sister handsome .'" 
 
 " You little simpleton !" answered Robert 
 laughing heartily, "what thought led you to 
 that question .' You cannot surely become jeal- 
 ous even of my sister ?" 
 
 " Become .' become ?" said Gracia smiling, " as 
 if I should first ' become' jealous ! I am jealous ! 
 jealous as a loving Brazilian woman — jealous of 
 every being that meets your glance — even of 
 that cat, if you should take her upon jjour lap — 
 of that aloe, out there, if you look at it too long! — 
 
 and I should not be jealous of your sister ! 
 
 Vou often, no doubt, give her your hand and 
 
 kiss her on the forehead ! I will not suffer 
 
 that ! you shall no more press the hand of your 
 sister !" 
 
 Robert contemplated, with evident involuntary 
 satisfaction, the glowing of a female nature that 
 loved him, calmly listened to her remarks and 
 commands, and at length said, slowly and with 
 significance: " You will undoubtedly give your 
 
 hand to some man beside me, and kiss him 
 
 not as I kiss my sister and must not I also 
 
 be jealous !" 
 
 A long pause ensued. 
 
 " Pardon me I" at length began the poor wo- 
 man, laying down her fork and sinking back in 
 iier chair. 
 
 " Do you know that the thought has occurred 
 
 to me: never to see him again! never! since I 
 feel that you love me and that I love you. But 
 [ would also live apart from you. I T\"ould not 
 burden your name with the disgrace of having 
 
 dissolved a bond that has never bound my 
 
 heart never ! I would live retired, in 
 
 solitude and read your letters and write 
 
 to you — and work as I do now^to be indepen- 
 dent by my industry -to be with you in spirit 
 
 to accompany you in spirit wherever you 
 
 may abide !" 
 
 " Mother I please to give me another piece of 
 pigeon," sounded the voice of the dear little one 
 shrilly in her ears. She shrank back, as if a 
 stroke of lightning had darted into the pavilion. 
 She again covered her face with her handker- 
 chief, and wept. 
 
 Robert had heard the significant revelation of 
 of his friend with surprise and sorrow, as it inti- 
 mated to him the 9()here of sympathy in which 
 her mind dwelt. He had prepared himself for 
 a reply as significant and decided as the result 
 of the impression which this communication 
 wrought upon him, when the word " mother," 
 although uttered in a soft childish voice, also 
 filled his soul with the same discord. 
 
 The impression of this revelation from the 
 heart of his beloved, in relation to a separation 
 from her husband, was twofold. 
 
 The purpose of separation, in itself, ap]>eared 
 to the youth on the one hand as the most natural 
 consequence and requisition of that declaration 
 in which the unfortunate woman had affirmed 
 with a sacred oath her love to him, and dedicated 
 to him her heart " for eternity." 
 
 The mere thought that Gracia had ever lived 
 in private connexion with a man, (which the 
 existence of the little one unfortunately but too 
 plainly confirmed,) always wrought such bitler 
 and disgusting sensations in the heart of the 
 deeply loving youth, that he, for this very reason, 
 (as we long ago remarked,) even endeavored to 
 deny the reality. But so much the more horrible 
 and even unheard of, must the thought be for him, 
 that the woman who, in a state of e.xalted spiritual 
 life, had avowed her love for him — given him 
 her lieart for ever — shcjuld demean herself, sooner 
 or later, to the so called fulfilment of conjugal 
 duty in the arms of another — a thought that he 
 could not entertain — that was far from him — 
 since he honored in his beloved the dignity of 
 woman — and woman in the noblest sense of the 
 word. 
 
 The secondary efTect of the impression of the 
 revelation was the suddenly awakened care for 
 Gracia's future, in case she, in the consciousness 
 of her pure love, should feel herself strong 
 enough to despise the judgement of the world, as 
 she had intimated in that hour with such de- 
 termined decision. 
 
 It appeared evident to him that a third person, 
 whether of the male or female sex, is never able 
 to dissolve a union, if an inward separation, or 
 dissolution of the bond to which the sacrament 
 of marriage was perverted, has not already taken 
 taken place. 
 
 If the element of separation has not long sinca 
 carried through its chemical fermenting and 
 separating process in the interior of the social 
 relation, (that until then had passed for mar- 
 riage,) no third person whatever can elTect the 
 disturbance of a ui ion, much less a separation.
 
 IhC 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 The cause of every Jlvorce lies in the inferior 
 of marria'j^e itself, and frequently becomes, as it 
 were, the germ of future disturbance and disso- 
 liition inane or in both natures. It is carried 
 to the alt.ir with them, as far as it lies in the 
 ru2C^od contrast of both nafuri's, which a sacra- 
 ment of the church can as little bind to each 
 other as water and fire can unite. The ^erm of 
 Buch inward .separation unfolds itself the more 
 rapidly into blossom and fruit, the more deeply 
 the feeliniis glow in tlie one heart that discovers 
 in the other, instead of a return of love, the 
 waste desert of indifference. 
 
 The external separation of such a compact of 
 propaa;ation, wliich never existed as a union of 
 souls, is, of course, only a natural realization of 
 the inward dissolution of the marriage, which 
 just as naturally rejuires no dissolution, since it 
 never was a union of souls. 
 
 If it were even possible to keep a register 
 over the interior relations of the marriages of 
 our civilized era, which a Parisian Terneau or 
 cashmere shawl (instead of the mantle of Chris- 
 tian love) generally covers in the most discreet 
 manner possible, it might occur that the num- 
 ber of i'lternally dissolved unions would ex- 
 ceed, at least a hundred fold, the number of 
 public separations frem bed and board, or formal 
 divorces. 
 
 This result of such a (certainly difficult) re- 
 gistration may appear the more natural, the 
 more we observe the shameless levity or dis- 
 honorable speculation which marriage involves 
 on the one liand, as a guarantee of existence, or 
 a satisfaction of sensual demands ; on the other 
 hand, as a money concern, without regard to 
 sympathy or harmony of character — without 
 love. 
 
 As certainly as " no steam enaine of sixty horse 
 power" is able to carry off a woman when she 
 herself does not determine and accomplish the 
 carrying off of her lover, just as certainly would 
 a third person never occasion a separation, if 
 tiie foundation of it had not, as above intimated, 
 long ago been laid in the grounds of the union 
 itself. 
 
 Love is nourished by a reciprocal love. No 
 man of honor will ever allow a woman who is 
 fettered by social bonds, to perceive a senti- 
 ment that, from some unfortunate cause, he may 
 experience towards her, if he has not become 
 convinced, by the most delicate shades of inter- 
 course, of her love to him ; and, even then, the 
 thought of an influence on his part upon the dis- 
 Bolution of the social bond will be far from him. 
 
 The same sense of honor, however, which 
 in such a case prescribes the man's duty of ac- 
 tion — condemning him to silence, to self denial, 
 a:sd not uufrequently, to death — demands just 
 as uncondltion.iUy from the unlbrtunate woman, 
 in such circumstances, a physical separation 
 from her husband, apart from the consideration 
 whether a public or formal divorce can, under 
 existing circumstances, immediately take place. 
 
 This alternative presents itself to the woman 
 in the moment of her declaration, and in no 
 manly heart can the sentiment of pure love ever 
 be more sacredly, profoundly, powerfully, and 
 inalienably aroused and nourished, than just 
 through such a declaration of mutual love, 
 The love of a man of honor is heightened in 
 euch a case, by the accountability with which 
 
 destiny has burdened him, in llie consciousness 
 of the love of an unfortunate female, who re- 
 cognised highly valued and involuntary love in 
 him, the man of honor, and to the man of honor 
 revealed her love, and gave herself for ever. 
 
 Natural as the physical separation of Gracia 
 from her present possessor, or proprietor, ap- 
 peared to the noble young man, he yet was, for 
 the moment, severely shocked by the thought 
 of becoming, according to the views ol the 
 world, the proscribed cause or occasion of a 
 divorce. Only Gracia's proud contempt, ex- 
 pressed on that night, for the world and its 
 judgement, could have so suddenly enabled him 
 to soar upwards to a similar elevation, in the 
 consciousness of his love and his duty, in rela- 
 tion to the future of the female who had, with 
 such confidence, placed herself for ever in hia 
 heart. 
 
 We know that in the singular contradiction of 
 his sentiments, Robert souglit constantly, and 
 with determination, to banish the thoU','ht that 
 the amiable little one was the daughter of tiracia ; 
 since his present cognisance of the past night 
 ho was less than ever able to allow its natural 
 rights to the often contradicted reality. 
 
 " No V cried he, as he s\w Gracia's tears flow- 
 ing, and sprang from his seat ; " no ! it is im- 
 possible ! — it cannot be ! One lie prevails here, 
 conceal it as you may. Confirm tlie sentence of 
 death that seems to have fallen upon me, and in 
 my last hour, 1 cannot and will not believe that 
 ever a man has embraced you — that this, or any 
 other being upon earth can call you — mother ! 
 You are yourself but a child ! a child whose heart 
 is a bud, which has but just unfolded itself as 
 a flower under the spirit-breath of love !" 
 
 " That you should ever have lost your con- 
 sciousness in the arms of a man without love ! 
 
 Gracia, you have led me to the brink of lunacy — 
 no ! — not you — God forgive me ! not you — you 
 are innocent ; and not m.yself, for my heart is 
 pure, and conscious of no guilt ; but if ever an 
 hour should come, in which you shoultl be forced 
 to feign love for a man, to grant him that which 
 only love makes sacred, then — may God forgive 
 
 you what you have done to me through your 
 
 oath !" 
 
 The unfortunate woman held out her hand to 
 him, and convulsively pressed his, incapable of 
 returning a word. 
 
 Some one knocked at the gate, and a negress 
 opened it. It was a confidant of old IVliu'eto, 
 in the Rua dos Ourives, with a note to .Senhora 
 Gracia. The messenger departed as hastily as 
 he came. 
 
 She broke open the note with a trembling 
 hand, cast a glance on the first lines which it 
 contained, and her hand fell into her lap, as if 
 paralyzed. The note lay on the floor. 
 
 Robert took it up, and laid it near his friend 
 upon the table. 
 
 " Read it — 1 beseech you, read it !" said she, 
 with a broken voice, Robert obeyed her request. 
 It contained the intelligence, on the part of 
 Senhors Forro and Moreto, that Senhor Closting 
 had arrived in Porta d'Estrela, and would pro- 
 bably be in Rio on the ensuing day. 
 
 Robert laid the note again beside Madamo 
 Closting, and would have left the roou. " G« 
 to Maria and tell her to make cotiee," whispered 
 she in the ear of the little one
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 2SI 
 
 Hardly had the child lefl the room when Gra- 
 cia S|)rung up, threw herself on the breast of 
 her friend, p;azed into his eyes, and then sank 
 back again into her chair. Robert, who could 
 not avoid partaking of the coffee which the little 
 one had ordered, seated himself again in his 
 place, seized the hand of his friend, and lingered, 
 as before, in her society — banishing, with all the 
 power of his will, the thought that the paper of 
 the note just received was paper, and that the 
 little one was the daughter of the "child" with 
 whose hand he played as if it never — had been 
 thown away. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BLUESTOCKING. 
 
 Miss Susan Thomson had hitherto developed 
 as little talent for observation and perception as 
 any English young lady from one of the finish- 
 ing schools, wliere she is impressed with the 
 idea that she must not notice nor observe any 
 thing, in order not to compromise her respecta- 
 bility by taking notice of an object not belong- 
 ing to the fashionable world. .She had, never- 
 theless, in the first week that she was in the 
 company of Miss Fanny from Buenos Ayres, (or 
 Senhora Isabella, as she was generally called 
 there,) made the observation that that young 
 lady was a bluestocking — an extravagant blue- 
 stocking. 
 
 The basis of the English social relations rests 
 upon the massive materialism that looks upon 
 every intellectual or spiritual tendency as super- 
 fluous, every talent, no matter what, as a subor- 
 dinate object, which can be paid for with money, 
 and consequently is, in itself, a branch of indus- 
 try, like any other manufacturing or productive 
 labor. 
 
 A man or youth in England, who is distin- 
 guished for any talent, or a desire for intellectual 
 development, is on that account a " misfortune to 
 his family," whicii, in proportion to the degree ot 
 its " respectability," becomes the more sensitive, 
 the more such a talent asserts its intellectual 
 originality. 
 
 in consequence of these laws of English pre- 
 judice, the English author, on appearing before 
 the public, wraps himself in the strict incognito 
 of anonymousness, and often hides from his near- 
 est relatives, the mental activity that inspires 
 him. 
 
 Only in particular cases, when extraordinary 
 Buccess crowns hi* efibrts, or his personal in- 
 dependence witli rank and title enable him to 
 overcome the judgement of his family, does he 
 appear in his true name. His posiition then be- 
 comes an object of curiosity, tor the world only 
 tolerates him at most, and treats him in his pres- 
 ence as one suffering under a nervous disease, 
 but by anonymous attacks, and when his back is 
 turned, mercilessly treads him into the dust 
 where he belongs. 
 
 If an author in England, without fortune, is 
 
 placed on the same footing with a servant, and 
 
 fitands proscribed, it is no wonder that a woman 
 
 in England, whether poor or rich, fashionable or 
 
 3a 
 
 not, finds a hell upon earth when she manifests 
 any intellectual or spiritual tendency, or occu- 
 pies herself with literature. 
 
 In accordance with the above prerogatives of 
 condition, rank, and title, a Lady Morgan, Lady 
 Blessington, etc., is merely tolerated, because 
 she may defy, in her social position, the world 
 that fawns about her; but such a spirit, never- 
 theless, remains subjected by the " rigid su- 
 pervision" of the absolute despotism of British 
 regulations, to the condition of not rising by any 
 literary step or mental flight above the barrierg 
 which prejudice and fashion have placed thera 
 as British, 
 
 These barriers of British prejudice and fash- 
 ion are a Chinese wall, by which every English- 
 man is constantly surrounded, wherever ha 
 transports his home. 
 
 An Englishman, impelled by " unfortunate 
 inclination" to scientific, intellellcctual, or lite- 
 rary labors, (however they may he named,) if 
 regarded by his relatives as a patient, and they 
 consider it to be their duty to make every en- 
 deavor to cure his disease, in which, alas ! they 
 do not always succeed. The undeniable " British 
 consequence" with which the Englishman car- 
 ries about with him, to all parts of the world, the 
 element of his British existence, (as if it were a 
 portable atmosphere,) stamps the Englishman aa 
 " English," and as such he lives and moves every- 
 where, whether as a travelling gentleman, or at 
 a man of business, in the fast bound Chinese bar- 
 riers of British prejudices. 
 
 Dolores, besides her many prominent quali- 
 ties, (which we have occasionally before spoke* 
 of,) possessed a certain unity of being, such as few 
 men have, which consists in clearness of self- 
 knowledge, in the consciousness of moral and 
 spiritual strength, and in the strong necessity of 
 making our actions and course of lite correspond 
 with our convictions and our knowledge. 
 
 This unity of being is a rarity, and is generally 
 misunderstood, as refractoriness and exaggera- 
 tion ; for social despotism desires a general level- 
 ling, above which no moral independence shall 
 elevate itself in contradiction to the universal 
 prescriptions of fashion and prejudice. 
 
 This spiritual unity of being is the strict re- 
 verse of " British originality." The first rest* 
 upon moral freedom, the last is founded on moral 
 and social slavery. The former acknowledge* 
 the intellectual as the basis of existence ; th» 
 latter form : fashion. 
 
 As " original" as the personal originality of am 
 Englishman may appear, it is, neverthelesa, 
 characterized by the unconditional slavish ob- 
 servance of form — British fashion. 
 
 The spiritual unity of being is manifested ia 
 the moral strength of conviction, in the con- 
 sciousness of moral freedom, which directs all 
 its actions in accordance with nature and rea- 
 son : British originality acknowledges no moral 
 freedom, much less its power ; and all the law* 
 of nature and of reason, all freedom of will and 
 action, are subjected to the laws of British 
 fashion, the violation of which is the crime of 
 all crimes. 
 
 Should a being possessing such spiritual unity 
 come in contact with the British social world, 
 they would judge it according to the first law of 
 human judgement, (which we have mentioned 
 before,) after him or herself, and, consequently.
 
 258 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 entirely fabely, because the Briton, influenced in 
 ■his judgement by his British element, remains 
 ijways : a Briton. . , • j 
 
 Therefore moral freedom and mental inde- 
 pendence appear to the Briton, wherever he 
 finds them, as prejudice ; for, m his British pre- 
 occupation, he is incapable ot a logical con- 
 clusion. He draws his conclusions m regard to 
 others after himself, and in case he meets with 
 an individuality which he (with thebest wi 1 in 
 the world) does not understand ; he regards it 
 as a " queer originality "—a result of spleen. 
 
 Dolores was considered by the Thomsons as a 
 Toun" lady who, taken up with prejudicf^, suf- 
 fered from " spleen," which Miss Susan Thom- 
 son wished, by some means, " to drive out ol 
 
 her head." . , ,■ , ,11 
 
 But alas! Miss Susan soon perceived that all 
 
 her eflbrts were lost on Miss Isabella, and that 
 «he was the most extravagant bluestocking that 
 ever took a worldly book or pen and ink m 
 hand Such a "misfortune in Miss Susans 
 family," appeared to her greater every day, es- 
 pecially as the bluestocking was to marry her 
 nephew She even remarked, when she quite 
 unintentionally went into Miss Isabella's room, 
 that she sometimes wrote verses without having 
 Bvrou's Childe Harold before her, and conse- 
 nuentlv must, indeed, be an intellectual produc- 
 Sve pcitess. It was almost incredible, but alas ! 
 it was true ; Miss Susan had seen it with her 
 own light gray eyes. . 
 
 SeSora Isabella had become an abomination 
 to the mistress of the heart of the Baron de 
 Spandau ; she wished her out of the house, in 
 short and good. If this " strange person" was to 
 marry her nephew, it should only take place 
 upon the condition that the baron should marry 
 her— herself— Miss Susan Thomson. That was 
 her resolution ; that was the rule of all her ac- 
 tions tovrards the " strange person," as well as 
 towards the amiable baron ; and she hoped, alter 
 prudent and clever reflection, to break a way 
 for her own marriage by promoting that or 
 Isabella. 
 
 CHAPTER VII, 
 
 THE DECLARATION. 
 
 One day the baron visited the lady of his 
 heart. She sat in her myrtle bower on the gar- 
 den terrace, and hastened, as usual, as joytully 
 to meet the object ol her longing as the laws ot 
 fashion permitted. It was towards evening, and, 
 in fact, not so oppressively warm as it had been 
 some hours before in that same day ; but the 
 baron found it " very warm" in the arbor, and 
 proposed to accompany the lady into the house. 
 He seemed to " have something upon his mind, 
 from which he would certainly prefer to unbur- 
 den himself between four walls, rather than in 
 a transparent myrtle bower. The baron was a 
 man of feeling-of soul-and there are conler- 
 ences which excite the feelings, agitate the 
 ■oul, and can bring tears into a man s eyes. 
 Which the black gardener and other negroes 
 
 did not need to see. The baron said but little 
 until they entered the green parlor; he walkeJ 
 silently along by the side of Miss Thomson : his 
 silence only spoke the more. He evidently had 
 something on his mind that must now come out 
 -must come out at last-at last-for he had now 
 been her brother's "intimate family Iriend 
 long enough, and if he really "had a design up- 
 on his sister," it was at last time to declare him- 
 self. The laws of the social world required a 
 declaration. u„,..: 
 
 Miss Susan's countenance expressed a heavi- 
 ness of heart, as she stepped by the side of Mon- 
 sieur le Baron, and into the green parlour ; she 
 then sank upon the sofa. At the same time 
 he found the warm draught of air a little too 
 cool, and shut to the side doors which ofiereda 
 view of the famous platform scales. 
 
 All was then right ; the adorer of Miss Thom- 
 son was now about to come to the point, and to 
 make his declaration. . 
 
 If this is a case that takes place a million 
 times a vear, in difTerent parts of the world, 
 and, of course, may seem quite an ordinary oc- 
 currence, this case was, nevertheless, no ordi- 
 nary occurrence to the young lady— who was 
 driving from the quarantine of her maidenly con- 
 dition into the open roads of hopelessness Un 
 the contrary, it was to her the most novel and 
 strange event that could ever happen to her ; it 
 never had occurred to her-no, never, in the 
 wh.le course of her life— and she had lived long 
 enough to have had time for such a case to 
 arrive. . . , 
 
 These thoughts or considerations were sub- 
 stantially those which were unconsciously ex- 
 pressed "in Miss Thomson's thin, but, lor all 
 I that, (according to her own conviction,) very 
 handsome face. , 
 
 ' The baron had closed the doors, and at her 
 very hospitable invitation, had seated himsell by 
 her" side; in a very wide armchair, close by the 
 end of the sofa, upon which her lei^t arm rested 
 She had, quite accidentally, so placed herself 
 that her right hand remained free, m case that 
 in any particular result of the conhdential con- 
 ference politeness should require her to give her 
 hand to the baron. . , . , 
 
 " Miss Thomson," the baron at last be^nn, 
 and turned, quite accidentally, a ring which he 
 ' wore, among others, on the little finger of his 
 left hand, and which she had never observed 
 there before ; " Miss Thomson, I have had the 
 honor, for more than a year, of being con- 
 sidered as the friend of your brother, and as a 
 friend of your family, and 1 can partly ascribe 
 it to the respectability of my family relations in 
 Europe, that I am allowed to visit at your house, 
 a position which I can appreciate as it deserves. 
 
 The baron had brought forth this ma^'l^':'/' 
 rhetorical introduction with so much ability, 
 that he could not help admiring himself, and for 
 that purpose, paused a moment. Miss busan a 
 fraise, or chemisette, over that flat portion of 
 her body which generally (somewhat more 
 rounding) covers the female heart, moved It 
 was evidently some inward emotion, which had 
 penetrated into Miss Thomson's being, some 
 agitation of feeling, (what she was never before 
 conscious of possessing,) or a physical emotion 
 of the heart, in consequence of a strange op- 
 pressiveness and anxiety ; or, be it what it may
 
 DOLORES 
 
 259 
 
 the emotion wag tliere. Tiie snow white mus- 
 lin, about a span below tlie iiollow of the neck, 
 moved and moved, in such a manner that it was 
 plainly to be seen that she was laboring under 
 some anxiety. She was anxious that the baron 
 would not turn about when he got half way, but 
 safely arrive at his destination, and " propose." 
 " You are sufficiently well acquainted with 
 me, Miss Thomson, with my character as a gen- 
 tleman, with my behavior as a man of honor, 
 and with my respectability, which alone gave 
 me courage to approach you with a revelation, 
 or rather a declaration, which my character as 
 man requires of me, and which. Miss Thomson, 
 can neither surprise nor offend you. If you con- 
 sider the impression that you have never failed 
 to make upon me." 
 
 At the second period of this rhetorical proposal, 
 the muslin moved more violently than before. 
 The face of the young lady was suffused by a deep 
 red, which is only to be seen in Brazil' in the 
 reflection of sunset upon the horizon, (without 
 any allusion to the approaching evening of life 
 of the young lady on the sofa near the baron.) 
 _ " Miss Thomson," he at last continued, " I 
 like, as a man, to pursue a straightforward 
 course, and therefore take the liberty of disclo- 
 sing to you, in all brevity, that my adoration for 
 you, of which you have long been aware, was 
 connected with a feeling that no language can 
 express, but which has brought me to the reso- 
 lution of placing ray future life in your hands, 
 to choose you to judge me and this step, while I 
 declare to you, that I would consider it as my 
 greatest happiness to offer to vou, Miss Thom- 
 son, my future existence, my life, my fortune, my 
 Self; to lead at your side a quiet, peaceable, re- 
 tired life ; to prepare such a life for you, to enjoy 
 It with you, under the protection of Providence, 
 which knows the purity of my heart, and in its 
 my.sterious ways has conducted me into your 
 presence." The baron had happilv completed 
 this third and concluding period of his rhetorical 
 composition, fetched along breath, seemed much 
 affected, and wiped his eyes— as if that was 
 necessary. 
 
 Miss Susan likewise drew a long, long breath, 
 and the eyes of both met. 
 
 Far be it from us to say that an expression of 
 reply, or of inward emotion, was apparent in 
 Miss Susan's look, as it met that of the baron. 
 Miss Susan's muslin was moved; she suffered 
 anguish— the anguish of death ; but merely from 
 uncertamty in her highly wrought expectation. 
 Her anguish was passed ; the sum of sums, 
 the addition of all the rhetorical forms with 
 which Monsieur le Baron decorated his proposal, 
 satisfied her calculation. Miss Thomson now 
 knew where she stood ; but it would have been 
 contrary to all tact and ton, to let the baron 
 know where he stood. She therefore took a 
 long, long breath, looked upon the baron with 
 the most maidenly timidity and embarrassment 
 that was at her command, since she had sys- 
 tematically learned in the last lessons of her 
 finishing school (to be sure a very long time 
 before) what behavior was proper for such an 
 occasion, which, sooner or later, must present 
 Itself at least once in the life of every young 
 lady, unless the devil should have entered the 
 family papers instead of the swine. 
 She replied with a kindness and mildness, but 
 
 with a seriousness and dignify that no one but a 
 lady of such respectability would be capable of 
 expressing: 
 
 " I thank you, baron — for the confidence with 
 which— you have just honored — me, and will en- j 
 deavor to — consult with my God and — with my ; 
 self about this step of — my life, so important for " 
 you as for me, and I shall — take the liberty to 
 in.brm— my brother of this affair, and will give 
 you — my answer through — through Mr. Thom- 
 son — to-morrow — if possible." 
 
 The baron, from his business knowledge in 
 such matters, had not anticipated any other 
 answer, and had prudently informed his friend, 
 Mr. Thomson, of his resolution, some hours 
 before, at their common dinner in the Hotel 
 Faroux. Mr. Thomson, as a man of experience 
 in this department of social business, received 
 the preliminary communication of his future 
 brother-in-law as one which he had long ex- 
 pected, and wished the baron " success in the 
 result of his visit at Bota Fogo." 
 
 However, he did fail to ask him, incidentally, 
 to be allowed to inspect his family documents, 
 from which it might be seen that his mother 
 had been a countess so and so, his aunt a mar- 
 chioness so and so, his father the Baronet de 
 Spandau, Knight of the Order of the Black 
 Eagle, of the Order of Wladimir of the first 
 class, and of the Order of the Danish Elephant 
 and the Austrian Rhinoceros; and as to his 
 fortune, Mr. Thomson could inquire at the 
 Russian Consul's, who " knew his circum- 
 stances," and would at any time give the neces- 
 sary information respecting him, in person, to 
 such a man as Mr. Thomson. 
 
 The importance and originality of the baron's 
 visit, in itself, did not allow him, for this time, 
 to remain longer in Miss Susan's bewitching 
 society. He took his leave with all the ceremony 
 that had become a second nature to him as a 
 former ensign of the royal Prussian infantry, 
 and which is universally acknowledged as the 
 mark of a " refined education." 
 
 It was well known that Miss Thomson was an 
 English woman, and had passed through the first 
 years of youthful levity. Long consideration, 
 reflection, deliberation, viewing the matter on 
 this side and that, consultation with herself, her 
 brother, and her God, was not so requisite as 
 the formal betrothal at the expiration of the 
 stated time, and the "to-morrow" which she 
 had appointed— (for, alas ! she could not consis- 
 tently set a shorter term). 
 
 As it is much more difficult in England for a 
 female to get a husband than in any other country 
 in the world, an English woman can appreciate 
 the act of betrothal; and only in England, and 
 among people of English descent, are " suits 
 for breach of promise of marriage" ever thought 
 of, which would offend the feelings of delicacy 
 of the women of other nations. 
 
 -'-'•'♦♦♦^^./N^^^^Nr.W 
 
 CHAPTER Vlll. 
 
 " AU, RIGHT." 
 
 Mr. George Thompson returned nome to 
 tea, and found Miss Fanny and Miss Siisaa
 
 260 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 walking in the garden, arm in arm, a thinp; fJiat 
 had never happened before. Miss Susan appeared 
 anusnally cheerful. 
 
 "How are you. Miss Thomson?" the old 
 widower called out to her, smiling mischievous- 
 ly ; "I congratulate you." 
 
 The most maidenly blush that ever suffused 
 Miss Susan's cheeks, " since the memory of 
 man," rose close up under her lisht gray eyes. 
 Jt was the first blush of maidenly self-satisfac- 
 tion that she had ever experienced; the blush 
 of a virgin whose virginity was embellished by 
 that social solidity which time alone can give, 
 mid which we find in Old England indicated in 
 large letters and figures on adairy (milk shop) 
 or other " institute," where we read : 
 " Established 1787." 
 
 As little expression as Miss Sosan manifested 
 in her look when the baron had completed his 
 proposal, so much expression now appeared 
 about the corners of her mouth, aa she, with an 
 ineffably naive smile, gave her brother to un- 
 derstand, that he should not be indiscreet, and 
 betray, before Seiiora Isabella, that she was, so 
 to say, " a bride." 
 
 " Can 1 invite the barcn to dinner to-morrow, 
 with a few friends ? say Dr. Thoifin, and His 
 Excellency the .\mba9sadnr of His Highness of 
 Kniphausen ?" Mr. George asked, after he had 
 heartily shaken the hands of both ladies, and 
 played a moment with Miss Fanny's hand. 
 
 That was a delicate question ; Miss Susan now 
 had to give a decisive yes or no. She consider- 
 ed, as long as her inward impatience was able 
 to keep itself down, (to avoid the least appear- 
 ance of youthful levity,) and at last lisped: 
 " Yes." 
 
 Mr. Thomson now introduced his sister to 
 Miss Fanny, " as the betrothed of the Baron de 
 Spandau," just as RobL-rt entered the garden; 
 the old wiilower then informed him, in his live- 
 liest manner, and with tlie greatest formality, of 
 the betrothal, which was to be celebrated the 
 next day. 
 
 Robert's face suddenly lost its color, and then 
 became overspread witli the manly red of the 
 ebullition of suppressed bitterness. He looked 
 back upon Senhora Gracia'g communication, as 
 well as the many remarks of Dr. Thorfin, con- 
 cerning the future member of the family — the 
 •py, in whose hands lay the fate of Dolores ; and 
 lliis last circumstance enforced upon him — 
 silence. 
 
 We have long since obsor\'ed that Mr. George 
 Thomson was a" man of business," who usually 
 carried out what he undertook or had resolved 
 upon. He had, as is -well known, resolved to 
 marry Seiiora Dolores, and now resolved that 
 three weddings should be celebrated on one 
 day, somewhere in common, on board of some 
 , vessel — namely, his, the baron's, and Robert's 
 wedding. Robert had this evening happened 
 there very opportunely, as he wished to speak 
 with him about this business, as far as Mr. 
 Robert Walker was personally interested in it. 
 
 The young Englishman had drank his coffee 
 after dinner in Senhora Gracia's company, as 
 usual, and had smoked a Manilla segar, the 
 scent of which was very agreeable to her when 
 a part of it came from Robert's mouth. He had 
 left his friend, in order to pay a hasty visit to his 
 relatives. 
 
 " Bob !" cried his old tmcle to h'sm, as tbe !«• 
 
 dies went into the green parlor, where the tea 
 was ready. " Bob, T have a word to say to yotj 
 
 in haste ! We will come to tea in a moment," 
 
 he interrupted himself, calling to the ladies 
 through the open window. 
 
 Robert remarked that what his uncle had to 
 say to him must be something important, be- 
 cause he wished to despatch it in a hurry, and 
 because he had placed both hands behind hifl 
 back— -an evidence of deep ret?cction on his part. 
 
 " Why do you not bestow your confidence 
 upon me.'" he commenced, after Robert had 
 stepped upon the terrace, where nobody heard 
 them. 
 
 *' How so. Uncle George .'" 
 
 " I mean why do you not confide to me what 
 yoa carry in year heart ? for you need the advice 
 of a friend." 
 
 " I carry something in my heart .' What makes 
 you think so .'" 
 
 " Well, now, there is no need of shooting 
 around the corner ; we might as well fire at the 
 mark at once. You are in love, and must gel 
 married." 
 
 Robert stared at his good old uncle with un- 
 feigned astonishment. 
 
 " Well, indeed ! you need not wonder at my 
 second sight ; I have long known that ycu ars 
 in love, and, if 1 am not mistaken, are loved in 
 return. All right; there is nothing in the way. 
 1 have tniiuired about her, unknown to you. She 
 is an excellent woman, of good family, of suHi- 
 cient respectability ; she has been circumvented 
 and seduced into marriage by a man whose 
 baseness she found out after it was too late ; she 
 has separated from him, can procure a divorce, 
 and then, after a few months, you can marr? 
 her. If you need mortey until that time, if she 
 should need money to arrange matters with her 
 previous husband, who knows how to value 
 money— <ion't hesitate to take what you may re- 
 quire, a couple of thousand pounds or so, to buy 
 her off. Don't hesitate in the least. I will ad- 
 vance to you from my private funds ; it will have 
 nothing "to do with our ho'use, nor your father. 
 But endeavor to bring it about soon. Hark ye, 
 Bob '. lose no time. Be quick about it. And 
 now come to tea." 
 
 The decided, dry exchange manner with 
 which Mr. Thomson treated this " business," 
 proved to him but too plainly that the whole 
 affair was sober earnest. 
 
 Robert had become more and more surprised 
 at every word he heard ; and was about to utter 
 the most solemn protestation, tliat he was not ia 
 love with any woman who was the lawful pro- 
 perty of another, when his uncle ;tdded the in- 
 vitation, " come to tea," and hastily left him. 
 The thought that his relation to Madame Closi- 
 ing had been discovered by some to him incon- 
 ceivable means, and as it seemed had already 
 been spoken of somewhere, startled the noblo 
 youth, whose delicacy equalled his love. But 
 as soon as he came to himself again after such a 
 surprise, his uncle's conduct did not appear at 
 all strange to him. He knew the old man, and 
 his way of doing business ; be might be assured 
 that he had conducted himself in this atlair 
 with the greatest prudence, for he regarded it as 
 a matter of business, and nobody could keep a 
 business secret better than Mr. George Thomson
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 261 
 
 Robert was aware of this characteristic of his 
 uncle, and remained self-absorbed, standing upon 
 the terrace, until he was again called to tea. 
 
 Uncle George had awakened a thought in 
 him that was not entirely new to him, since 
 Senhora Oracia liad informed liim of iiev inten- 
 tions in that regard — the thought of realizing 
 his spiritual connexioH with Gracia by a social 
 tie. He enclosed the whole train of ideas iuthe 
 sanctuary of his heart, and walked towards the 
 green parlor to tea. 
 
 " 1 hear that one of your travelling compan- 
 ions of the Nonlsfjernan, has been arrested to- 
 day," remarked i\lr. Thomson, continuing his 
 relation of the news of the day, as Robert en- 
 tered the room. 
 
 Dolores, to w"hom tliese words were directed, 
 grew pale. ** One of my travelling companions 
 of the Nordsfjernan .' not Hinango ?" she asked, 
 with involuntary animation. 
 
 Robert felt that it was too late to give his un- 
 suspecting uncle a criticising look, who, besides, 
 had not the least idea of a spiritual connexion 
 between the passengers of the Nordstjernan. 
 
 " Oh I no !" replied the old nian, in answer 
 to Dolores" question, " by no means; Captaiii 
 Hinango is w'ell, and at liberty ; I spoke to him 
 to-day in Mr. Vernon's company. The music- 
 teacher has been arrested — Alvai'ez. He has 
 found his sister here, the wife of a \cry rich 
 fazendeiro, who was brought here as a prisoner 
 of state from Porto Seguro. He is a very re- 
 spectable man — very rich — but he has unfortu- 
 nately " meddled with politics." He is repub- 
 lican, and is in chains. And his wife must be 
 a noble woman — an excellent woman — a pattern 
 of a woman ; she accompanied him two whole 
 months upon the journey, in the greatest misery. 
 I have made inquiries; there are houses here 
 from Bahia that know what he is worth — Sen- 
 bor LSeralitini, or whatever is his name." 
 
 Women, no malter of how contracted a mind, 
 have a })ecnliai' '* instinct " to control the afiairs 
 oi the heart of others, and of getting hold of 
 this or that secret; a quality in wliich they 
 miglit put to sliame many an agent of the secret 
 police, in respect to men's secrets. 
 
 Dolores had no sooner uttered the word Hi- 
 nango, in tlie above question, than Miss Susan 
 Would have bet her head that she was in secret 
 conne.xion with no one else than Hinango. How 
 and by what means she arrived at this certainty, 
 can more easily be illustrated by the example of 
 the most narrow-minded woman in a similar 
 instance, than we can explain. 
 
 it love makes tolerant, (as we have before re- 
 marked in relation to Miss Fanny and the reli- 
 gious ditierences of those around lier,) tlie eve 
 of a betrothal makes a liberal philantliropi.st of 
 a selfish old maid, and an obliging, magnani- 
 mous friend of a suspicious aunt. Doloi-es be- 
 came lost in rellection at this detached relation 
 of her old Iriend, and im.agined herself in the 
 position of Alvarez' sister. 
 
 The tirst and most natural consequence of 
 her thoughts, was to wish nothing more ardent- 
 ly than to visit that lady, to seek her Iriendship, 
 and console her. Before she found words to 
 reply to the old man's communication. Miss 
 Susan took up another thread ot' the discourse, 
 and turned to her brother with peculiar good 
 suture: 
 
 " Then you saw Captain Hinango to-day in 
 company with Mr. Vernon.' will you not invite 
 him with Dr. Thorfin } it seem.s that they are 
 very intimate friends." 
 
 " Who ?" replied the old widower, who had 
 received this "ast remark in an entirely different 
 sense from that in which it was intended ; " who 
 are intimate friends .■*" 
 
 " I mean Dr. Thorfin and Captain Hinango.'^ 
 
 " That may be," replied Mr. (5eorge, very 
 coolly, with a glance at Dolores, who, likewise 
 a woman, had as readily remarked " what quar- 
 ter the wind came from," that now so sudderdy 
 filled the sails of hospitality of the "young 
 lady" who poured out the tea. 
 
 " I have iona designed to request you, uncle, 
 to invite Mr. Hinango here," interposed Robert, 
 " for he was very polite to Miss Fanny and me — 
 as attentive as a gentlemin could be." 
 
 " So !" remarked the old man, with a pecu- 
 liar intonation, turning to Miss Fanny; "so he 
 was '-ery polite to you — very attentive, indeed !" 
 
 " He does his nation honor as a gentlemarj 
 on his travels," replied Miss Fanny, with in- 
 ditference. " I hear that he is a Russian, and 
 the Russian gentlemen are universally known by 
 a certain savolr viore.^'' 
 
 " That must be admitted ; they are almost as 
 well bred and polished as our Englishmen," 
 aiBrmed Mr. Thomson. 
 
 " In otiier respects," continued Miss Fanny, 
 "Hinango is a visionary, one who is always 
 soarinii in the upper regions, and often becomes 
 rather tiresome to u? here on earth." 
 
 " So 1 hear, so I hear, just as you say," inter- 
 rupted the old man, while Robert endeavored 
 to keep from smiling, and Miss Susan did 
 jiot allow herself to be in the least deceived by 
 Miss Fanny's tactics. 
 
 " That is the very reason vi-hy I will not in- 
 vite him here to-morrow," continued Mr. Thom- 
 son ; " otherwise it would not be inadvisable, for 
 there cannot be too many witnesses at such a 
 ceremony, and because Captain Hinango haa 
 done business with us to-day. He bought some 
 cannons of us, six twelve pounders, some Scotch 
 sail-clath, and a chest of small arms, and the 
 like, for his Vesta. He is going to the coast of 
 Africa for negroes, and will load for St. Joao de 
 Macalie; we will then, probably, have other 
 business to do with him." 
 
 " Don't let me stand in the way of your invi- 
 ting the Russian Captain," observed the neice 
 from La Plata; " on the contrary, I cannot only 
 endure his society, but I find him at times 
 quite suH'erablc, and he even amuses-me." 
 
 " Well, then, he shall amuse you to-morrow," 
 said Mr. Thomson, smiling, who for the last 
 two months had not had the least cause to be 
 jeakius of Hinango. 
 
 " So, then, to-morrow .'" itdded Robert, and 
 arose to go home. " I can call at Dr. Thorfiu's, 
 i;i iiiy neighborhood, this very evening, and invite 
 him and Hinango to dine with us to-morrow." 
 
 " And I will invito the baron myself," re- 
 joined Mr. Thomson, with a significant glance 
 at his sister; "and I will likewise personally 
 invite the ambassador from Kniphausen." 
 
 " Let him stay away, uncle," observed Robert, 
 " he is so strange to us." 
 
 " But he is a diplomatic person, and the whole 
 IS to be a diplomatic dinner," said Mr. Thoia-
 
 263 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 son, smiling; "and besides, we shall do his 
 excellency of Knipiiausen a service, for he 
 lives at the hotel, and selects his dishes from a 
 bill of fare. He siives every dinner that he is 
 invited to eat. If his position woul • allow it, 
 he would invite himself to dine at a diflerent 
 place every d:iy ; bnt the clerics here eat at the 
 same table with their principals, and that in- 
 commodes him ; and wlien he has to go in the 
 country, the carriage or boat hire costs more 
 than his dinner at the Faroux, and that he will 
 be glad to save to-morrow by our invitation." 
 
 " Well, then, to-morrow at four o'clock .'" 
 Robert again asked, as he took his hat — but he 
 suddenly remained a moment, simk in deep 
 thought. It occurred to him, that Mr. Ctosting 
 would probably return, while he would be as- 
 sisting at the baron's betrothal. He pressed his 
 sister Fanny's hand with unusual agitation, and 
 she remarked that his trembled violently, and 
 was of a feverish heat. 
 
 " What is the matter with you, Robert .'" she 
 asked, with a tone in which wos mingled sisterly 
 affection and love. " What ails you .'" 
 
 " Nothing — nothing," he exclaimed, and har- 
 ried away. 
 
 ** Strange !" said Miss Susan, looking after her 
 Dejdiew for some time ; " I never saw him so 
 before — never !" 
 
 " He'll soon get over that ; I know what ails 
 him !" exclaimed Mr. Thomsom ; '* it is your 
 betrothal to-morrow, and no letter yet from 
 Buenos Ayres. Why should that not make a 
 little impression on him ?" 
 
 " If news and consent do not come soon," re- 
 marked Dolores, in her character of runaway 
 betrothed, " we will make short work, and follow 
 your example. Miss Thomson." 
 
 " Yes, that we will, indeed !" cried the old 
 widower, " that we will ! pity that it cannot 
 take place to-morrow !" 
 
 " Do not forget to invite his Reverence for to- 
 morrow, whispered Miss Thomson ;" " you ride 
 directly by his door." 
 
 " That's very true !" replied he, " an ecclesi- 
 astic must be present at the betrothal ! that is 
 an old Anglo-Sa.xon custom." And the tea ses- 
 sion was raised. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE CAST-AWAY. 
 
 It was about ten o'clock, on the evening of the 
 same day, when the Baron de Spandau was 
 seated at supper with his friend Fortuna, in the 
 old garden house, not far from the Campo da 
 Santa .^nna This friend was likewise an En- 
 glish woman Miss Sarah * * • *, who at that 
 
 time bore in Brazil the name of Fortuna. She 
 tiad sailed from England in a vessel with full 
 three hundred passengers, bound for Sydney ; 
 tlicy had arrived at about 21)'^ south lal itudo, when 
 a fire broke out on board, and nothing but the 
 young captain's presence of mind saved the ship 
 and the pas.sengers, of whom two young girls 
 had already thrown themselves overboard in the 
 first moment of terror. The ship was still four 
 
 hundred miles from the coast of Brazil TIio 
 captain resolved, if possible, to go into the hai- 
 bor of Rio, and happily succeeded. The case was 
 examined, and it was discovered that some of the 
 outer planks were burnt in many places to the 
 depth of half an inch. 
 
 Snrah had not thrown herself overboard. .She 
 tbund in Rio a friend of old acquaintance from 
 Em'opc, who solemnly promised her marriage, 
 which induced her to remain there when the 
 ship set forlh on its voyage. Hers was the 
 everlasting old story of a poor betrayed girl. 
 Sarah, who could find no emphiyinent where 
 negro slaves were preferred to white people, 
 threw herself into the arms of another friend, who 
 had compassion on her, and remained her 
 " friend" until he left her. She then became 
 the friend of a man who called himself Mr. 
 
 Albert , and gave her for a residence the 
 
 garden house, in which he transacted his private 
 business with all sorts of agents. 
 
 Sarah was very pretty, she passed for beautiful, 
 and was noticed for her gracefulness in Rio. She 
 was a blonde, tall and slender, with a dazzlingly 
 fair complexion, and stron? and rapid in her 
 manner and movement. Her real English na- 
 tional countenance was adorned by a peculiarly 
 mild, good hearted expression. 
 
 Senhora Fortuna sat next her friend, on a well 
 stuffed sofa, in lighest neglige, though with well 
 arranged hair ; she ate oysters, and ananas, and 
 turtle soup, and confectionery, and drank ona 
 glass of champagne after another, and was verj 
 talkative. 
 
 Besides some lithographs from Walter Scotfs 
 "Heart of Mid-Lothian" and "Pirate," a well 
 toned guitar hung on the wall. As a Suabian 
 once answered, who was asked : *■ Can you play 
 on the Violin ? " " I don't know, really — 1 have 
 never tried !" — so had Sally been musical before 
 she learnt any instrument, and after a few hours 
 of instruction, accompanied her natural voice 
 very harmoniously with the guitar. 
 
 " You need only say," continued the Baron 
 in conversation, " that you accidentally learned 
 her address — when slie comes to you in the 
 morning ; but if you ever let it be perceived that 
 you know me, or are in communication with 
 me, then we are two ! mark that !" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I mark that !" replied the poor 
 creature ; " and her name is Pusy, and she's an 
 Irish woman ? " 
 
 " Lucy is her name, not Pusy ! and she is a 
 daughter of the "ever green Erin" — and her 
 
 friend is called Patrick Gentleboy a boatman 
 
 on the bay. And because I want to know what 
 is in the fellow — you understand me ? — I find i( 
 necessary that you shouhl spy him out a little." 
 
 " Spy him out !" said Miss Salty, laughing 
 loudly ; " what may not a passably handsome 
 English woman become, when the ves.sel gets 
 on fire under her in the midst of the ocean .'— 
 now I am to become a spy at length ! that is a 
 neat office ! — Drink ! spy I — drink 1 — you are a 
 spy! are you not? there, take your glass ! long 
 life to espionage ! I don't want to know who yotl 
 spy for." 
 
 " How came you by the idea t^iat I might be 
 a spy ? " inquired the Baron with evident sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Ho.v did I come by the idea ? I smelt it. 
 You have often admired my fine nose, and said
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 263 
 
 it was Grecian ! — whether it is Grecian or 
 Turkish — -it is all the same! but fine it is! 
 Drinl< then ! Albert ! — my Prince Albert ! — ^oh 
 how you please me to day ! — long lite to you. 
 Prince Albert, diink ! don't be a fool ! how can 
 you think tliat I take you for a spy ? you don't 
 appear clever enough to me for that ! — and if 
 yon were one, and wanted to engage me to spy 
 with you and for you, you would have come to 
 the right person ! — but 1 do nothing gratis ! 
 
 that you know ! Drink ! and don't be a fool ! 
 
 Do you want me to believe that you are a spy or 
 that you are not a spy ? I will believe whatever 
 suits you, so long as I suit you ! and so long as 
 you have money and provide me with cham- 
 pagne ! Drinlc, spy or no spy !" — 
 
 " I3ehida !" cried she with a high intonation, 
 and ringing at the same time her table bell. 
 The waiting woman appeared in her cotfee sack, 
 with a smilingly grinning countenance, murmur- 
 ing her " Senhora Dabedikadcmlefedanalafi 
 
 — hi-hi-hi ! Vinho ? Senhora, vinho .'" inquired 
 she, as Sarah pointed out to her the empty bottle. 
 
 " Senhor de Montevideo is waiting below 
 
 Senhor Dabedikademlienla " 
 
 " Let him wait ! and bring wine ! of the same 
 sort!" Shame-pain. ' 
 
 " Yes, .Senhora, S/tame-pain .'" grinned Be- 
 bida, and turning Inwards the door, stuck the 
 neck of tlie empty bottle into her little mouth, 
 and let the last drops tall upon her tongue. 
 
 " There, drink the glass out ! and bring an- 
 other up with you I" cried Fortuna to her, 
 handing her the glass she had just filled. 
 
 " I wish I had always been a woman like Be- 
 bida I" said she, half aside ; " just like Bebi- 
 da — as ugly as night, and dry and dwarfish like 
 Bebida." 
 
 " How so ? for what ?" 
 
 ** Then I should not be here in your arms and 
 should need no champagne that I might fulfil 
 
 my service — and forget 1" 
 
 " The devil take me-lan-clxo-ly," 
 
 interrupted she herself, singing with a melo- 
 diously clear voice : 
 
 " Tte devil take me me-Ian-cho-ly j 
 Only one lile un earth is allowed us 
 And wben for the grave they enshroud us. 
 Too early it ever will be, will be ? 
 Too early it ever wiil be 1" 
 
 repeated she, throwing herself back on the sofa. 
 
 " Then you are not willing to be in my arms ? 
 I did not know that," said the baron. 
 
 " Have 1 not said ' that you were not famous 
 for wit in your own country !' If I am only in 
 your arms, wheher willing or unwilling, it is 
 all the same to you, as it is to every man who 
 only wants to have a woman in his arms ! Swig I 
 Bwig ! I tell you, and hide your stupidity ! You 
 know that I am yours because you give me what 
 I reijuire, and many thousands of women partake 
 of my lot ! but they are more clever than I was 
 
 and not so open hearted as I. Have 1 ever 
 
 teased you to marry me to give nie a living, to 
 secure my future ? Since Que man deceived and 
 circumvented me, I love you all, as cannibals ! 
 My Scot, who took possession of me here on 
 board the vessel as an old friend, that was a gen- 
 tleman ! who deceived me, like a gentleman — and 
 1 shall never allow myself to be deceivetl again." 
 
 Kebida came in with a bottle, and handed the 
 
 Senhora at the same time the guitar also. While 
 the Baron started the cork, Sarah sang, with pe- 
 culiar expression : 
 
 " A health then, to true sym-pa-thy ' 
 You may purchase or sell what is human, 
 Making— Heaven knows what, of a woman — 
 But a tratHc in liearts cannot be." :[[: 
 
 Bedida laughed loudly, as if the song vra* 
 given for her particular entei-tainment. " Sen- 
 hora — sing — bonito — sing ! — vinho, more vinho 
 
 — more sing bonito ! dabedikadem lapitafi- 
 
 kadeinhedi — hi-hi-hi !" murmured and laughed 
 she and withdrew. 
 
 The spy had opened the bottle with masterly 
 ability. Fortuna held forth the glass, and the 
 medicine which is recommended to mai'ried wo- 
 men by so many physicians pearled and foamed. 
 
 " Had you ever a mother ?" inquired Sarah of 
 the Karc^n, without looking at him, as she carried 
 the glass to her burning lips. 
 
 " How so, you little fool ?" 
 
 " Oh, because ! I only think she must have 
 been a sigular woman !" 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " Because she had a son who cannot love." 
 
 " How do you know that I cannot love ?" 
 
 *' Because you would then olTer a woman 
 something else besides money and champagne. 
 
 'The devil take me-lan-cho-lyl' " 
 continued she, suddenly singing out, and striking 
 powerfully on the strings. 
 
 " The devil take me-Un-cho-ly — ! 
 What's the use of the 'holy alliance V 
 I'll rather set forms at defiance, 
 Than be sold out of hy-po-cri-sy I :[]: 
 
 The devil take hy-po-cri-sy — I 
 Whoever herself is deceiving, 
 Or Hatters a man for a living, 
 Soon or late very wretched will be." 
 
 " Drink spy ! and go down to your deputy 
 spy, and send Lucy to me to-morrow, and I will 
 spy for you so that you shall never forget me. 
 But you must send me tlie shawl that I saw to- 
 day in the Rua do Ouvidor ! for I am a woman, 
 and will do any thing for a shawl. It is only two 
 hundred millreis. You know I'm modest. You 
 know the shop ; the shop under my |)atrnnage ! 
 The shawl hung right at the entrance — with a 
 sky blue gi-ound — and a million colors — in the 
 border and centre ! I will use it for the present 
 as a bed covering, because it is too hot here t» 
 wear a shawl ; but 1 will not live forever in this 
 land of lizards ! Your health spy ! and now g« 
 down stairs and come again soon." 
 
 The baron withdrew, seeming not exactly t» 
 understand his confidante. He was almost sor- 
 I'y that he had recommended Lucy to her through 
 a third person as seamstress. But he had re- 
 marked that Patrick resorted in the evening t* 
 the house where she w(u*ked, and had seen her 
 one evening in the neighborhood of the chacara 
 where Dr. Thorfin lived. 
 
 " If it does no good, it can do no harm," 
 thought he, as he went to Seiior Prole in his 
 audience chamber. 
 
 Although it is well known that the secret 
 policy of the state, as well as of the church, ia 
 all countries where they organize their web, 
 seek the particular co-operation of a certain 
 class of the female sex, and menials of all class- 
 es, yet experience shows that many mistakes 
 are nevertheless made in this manner.
 
 20-1 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Tl we conKiiler tlie element of female nature 
 as the bayis of all social relations, (as we have 
 formerly explained the influence of woman upon 
 every age,) the duty of humanity would lead 
 OS to lighten a degradation of the female sex, 
 whose guilt is not borne by the woman alone 
 a3 an individual, but will fall upon the con- 
 science of the whole social world, if it have a 
 conscience in our age. 
 
 We behold woman robbed of all social inde- 
 pendence, as the slave of the regulations which 
 restrift her moral fi-cedom, robbed of the right 
 •f a free choice with respect to the most sacred 
 connexion, and all these regulations and restric- 
 tions springing from the livpocritical pretence 
 cf the *' promotion of morality." 
 
 A girl in .Sarah's circumstances leaves hev 
 country with a hundred other families, that they 
 may not starve there on the threshold of an epis- 
 copal palace, which is sustained by a yearly in- 
 come of from fifty to sixty thousand pounds 
 cteiling. She seeks some honest existence afar 
 «ff, instead of falling a prey to poverty in Lon- 
 don, wliere the Statistics number from eighty to 
 a hundred tliousand publicly degraded females, 
 in a population of about a million and a half, in- 
 dependently of the hundred thousand degraded 
 in priv.ite. 
 
 This [irompts the searching question for hu- 
 manity: Did a single one of these unfortunate 
 creatures choose degradation voluntarily .' did a 
 eingle one cast herself voluntarily upon such 
 moral wretchedness, without gliding down, step 
 by step, (through shameful seduction and breach 
 •f faith in man, or moral destruction by educa- 
 tion and example,) into the abyss of ruin, in 
 which the heartless condemnatory sentence of 
 the world loads her with contempt and scorn .' 
 
 Where Dr. Thorfin maintains as a psychologist, 
 •* married women seduce, maidens are seduced," 
 every Ueen observer will not only agree with 
 him, but will recognise the logical conclusion 
 that the demoralization of our epoch lies found- 
 ed in the immorality of the man, since no fe- 
 male would become degraded if she were not 
 ■educed, and then, being forsaken by the man, 
 left a prey to open disgrace and wretchedness. 
 
 On the other hand, we venture to affirm that 
 no wile would intentionally seduce a youth or 
 man, if she had always been allowed the right 
 •f moral independence and free choice for the 
 most sacred of all bonds. But always, and above 
 all, however, the guilt falls upon the man who 
 seduces a (emale without love, whether it be with 
 «r without the permission of the church. 
 
 It would be a painful subject of psychological 
 research, to decide whether the moral wretch- 
 edness of a woman, the suffering of her heart, 
 be more keen, more terrible in the openly de- 
 graded woman, in whom feeling more or le-^s is 
 blunted, or in the unfortunate wife, who, retain- 
 ing the profoundly delicate sentiment of noble 
 womanhood, is, without love, placed by social 
 Tegulations at the disposition of a man whom 
 she can neither love nor respect. 
 
 Is not every physical surrender cf woman 
 ■without love. Prostitution, whether the rights of 
 the man are secured by ordinances or not .' 
 
 These are questions which we Lay before all 
 mankind, whose sanctuary they concern. 
 
 We inquire further, whetlier, among thou- 
 sands of these unfortunate, seduced beings, who 
 
 are now a prey to pjblic disgrace, there would 
 not be many who would immediately leave their 
 horrible position, if the social world would per- 
 mit them to re-enter the element of morality .' 
 
 Altliougli exceptions may be found here, as to 
 all other rules, yet at least many credible reports 
 of the British administration otthe criminal (|)o!o- 
 ny of Botany Bay, bear witness that not only hun- 
 dreds of such cast-away creatures become, un- 
 der wise measures, not only morally improved, 
 bttt exemplary wives and mothei'S. 
 
 It may be true that a second generation of such 
 a population may not only he particularly dis- 
 tinguished for morality, but the social world oi 
 England itself, affords not a few examples that 
 such unfortunate beings become, through the 
 sympathy, confidence, respect, and love of a. 
 man, virtuous wives and happy mothers. 
 
 The position of woman obtained a humane re- 
 cognition, first through the legislation of Moses ; 
 and tlie principle of love first developed'itself, 
 manifested fur the protection of women, in Jesus 
 In all earlier and later religious codes, woman 
 appears robbed of all dignily, more or less con- 
 sidered as a being without a soul, (as in the code 
 of Muhammed) in adegree of abject degradation 
 which delicacy forbids us closely to describe. 
 
 If we read with attention the memoires of the 
 Evangelists, which have come down to us in the 
 four Gospels, and the histories, and epistles of 
 the Apostles of Jesus, we shall perceive, run- 
 ning through them, a delicate thread of the love 
 and sympathy which woman displayed for the 
 Nazarene in so many eventful moments of his 
 ministry — in accordance with the sympathy with 
 which he himself received woman — when the 
 Scribes and Pharisees brouglit the fiUen one to 
 him that he should judge her. Not less touch- 
 ing and significant, as the answer of Jesus in 
 this case, are the important and elevating histo- 
 rical facts which appear in so many places in the 
 letters of the Apostles, with relation to the 
 sympathy and co-operation of the female sex for 
 the dissimination of the pei-secuted and despised 
 doctrines of primitive Christianity. 
 
 But as the spirit of the doctrine of Jesus has 
 become more and more dissolved, and has dis- 
 appeared, by degrees, in the forms and formali- 
 ties of the church, and as the church, (as an in- 
 strument of absolutism) has gradnally renounced 
 the spirit of Christianity ; so has the principle 
 of humanity also disappeared from the social 
 regulations which church and state have es- 
 tablished. 
 
 Woman not only loses the original sacred pro- 
 tection of the religion of Jesus, under the " po- 
 lice institulion of the church," but is subjected 
 to the moral intolerance of the social world ol 
 such a Christendom. 
 
 The church, as an absolute, despotic power, 
 degrafles the sacrament of m.irriage into a cheap 
 article of traffic, to bind human Ix'ings indisso- 
 lubly, for ever, by an outwai'd form, whose in- 
 ward life is often more or lessin rigid opposition, 
 and whose so called choice, in thousands of oa- 
 ses, recognised as an *' unfortunate error," often 
 leads to crime, which the church does not by 
 any means judge as Jesus considered it, in the 
 spirit of humanity. 
 
 Here as there we find the w oman, as a pur- 
 chased slave, the property of a man whose pre-
 
 DOLORES 
 
 sence often works, in lime, with repulsion upon 
 her; or, as the despised cast-away, judged and 
 condemned the most strictly and uncharitably 
 by her own sex, and cast out from the social 
 world. 
 
 We behold woman in our age in a state of op- 
 pression, of despair, from wiiich only a rational 
 legislation, and a general system of popular edu- 
 cation, m tlie spirit of humanity, will ever be 
 able to produce help and deliverance. 
 
 h't-^**^**'- 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE ALCOVli! 
 
 Monsieur le Bason de Spandau was pri- 
 vate agent to several governments of the Europe- 
 an continent, in a similar position with the Baron 
 von Schweizer, from Frankfort, for Russia ; Mr. 
 Malten, in .\arau, and a Mr. Adam Kuszkowski, 
 (called Anton Kuberski,) for Prussia ; Mr. Fran- 
 cis Napoleon Szostakowski, for Russia ; a General 
 Ramorino, for France, Austria and Sardinia; a 
 Monsieur le Comte de George de Bertola, for 
 Austria and France ; a Monsieur Conseil, for 
 France; a Signore Partesotti, for Austria; a 
 Mr. Lessing for Prussia, and hundreds of others 
 whose position is not revealed and unmasked 
 like these, partly through their own awkward- 
 ness, partly through the energy of those whom 
 they observe, pursue, and occasionally would 
 deliver to the torture. 
 
 Many of the papers of these spies have fallen 
 into the hands of the persecuted, and have been 
 here and there published. Similar engagements 
 ofTered a rich and splendid remuneration to in- 
 dustry, (especially since the political crisis in 
 Europe, in consequence of the July revolution,) 
 to many ex-diplomatists, literary gentlemen, 
 chevaliers d'iudustrie, and penitentiary cul- 
 prits.' 
 
 A new faculty of study has been in a mea- 
 sure revealed in the progress of our civilization, 
 for whose examinations the greatest proportion 
 of " legitimate proofs " of the lowest crimes 
 serve as a recommendation, and whose sphere of 
 operation enjoys of itself the privilege of sus- 
 taining by demoralization the monarchial prin- 
 ciple, which has established itself upon demo- 
 ralization. 
 
 Monsieur le Baron de .Spandau had found the 
 opportunity toavailhimself in the" high places" 
 of Buenos Ayres as well as of Rio de Janeiro, of 
 his talent as a bloodhound, and had, it appears, 
 been recognised as serviceable. While he was 
 commissioned in the pay of some European 
 governments to observe the interior state of the 
 political movements of South America, the am- 
 bassadors of the courts, whose ministerial au- 
 thorities had despatched him, were placed under 
 his espionage, as well as the Argentine charge 
 
 * The above designated " Anton Kuberski," who was 
 lent 10 France as a Prussian spy, in January, 1332, liaii 
 oeen, for example, condemned to twelve years contine- 
 ment in a penitentiary for forgery, but was set at li- 
 berty as a useful subject of the Prussian government, 
 and was sent to Strasbourg with compreliensive instruc- 
 tions, where he played his part with ability, until he 
 ft'a.s seen through 
 
 33 
 
 d'affaires in Rio de Janeiro, to whom his position 
 as spy in the service of the cabinet of Rosas re- 
 mained unknown. 
 
 The important agent des deux mondes had 
 despatched his report to his secret authorities in 
 Buenos Ayres soon after the arrival of the 
 Nordstjernan in Rio, and, as it appeared, received 
 copious instructions for private proceedings, ac- 
 cording to which he had acted hitherto. 
 
 He found his factotum in the desigjiated au- 
 dience chamber, almost impatient from his long 
 attendance, with dry mouth. The condescending 
 chief remarked his ill humour, and immediately 
 called out to Behida, over the threshold, to bring 
 wine and two glasses. 
 
 "Si Senhor ! vinho! vinho!" croaked she, 
 somewhere in the background, where she was 
 smoking her little pipe. 
 
 The Baron took his seat at the round table, 
 and cast a glance upon the letters which Senhor 
 Prole had brought. 
 
 " A vessel arrived from Buenos Ayres.'" in- 
 quired he, as he began to open the envelope. 
 
 " Not direct from Buenos Ayres. An Argen- 
 tine man of war lies before Santos — these letters 
 were forwarded from there." 
 
 " What, the devil ! not the Caza ?" 
 
 " I believe the brig is called La Caza, if I am 
 not mistaken." 
 
 The Baron read with increasing attention one 
 of the beforementioned letters, sunk, from time 
 to time, in consideration and reflection ; then 
 read again, and said, half to himself: " that may 
 all be arranged, and we shall see an end of the 
 whole affair. 
 
 " Difficult — very difficult, that I ad- 
 mit, but so much the more interesting, and the 
 consequences, also, so much the moi'e brilliant." 
 He read again, half aloud : " As concerns that, 
 I beseech you not to be over hasty ; you may go 
 more surely to work, to allow her time, but in 
 that case, not only to possess yourself of her pa- 
 pers, but especially her person, since from to- 
 day, M. le Baron, I hold you responsible in this 
 respect." 
 
 " An unheard of responsibility, which forces 
 the sweat from my brow ! said he, in the above 
 mentioned tone, with a breath that almost re- 
 sembled a sigh. 
 
 "Dabedicademlafodunicalafi — hi-hi-hi! Vinho! 
 do Rhino ! — not shame-pain !" muttered Behida, 
 who came in with two bottles of Rhenish wine, 
 and four glasses. 
 
 " Out, out, old hag !" grumbled the baron to 
 her, too much occupied with Dolores to be able 
 at this time to pay her the smallest attention. 
 
 Bebida, however, remained standing there, 
 with a glass in each hand, like a Babylonian 
 Belus, or dragon cast in bronze, with a short 
 candle in the right claw. Senhor Prole, as an 
 " intimate friend of the house," gently uncorked 
 a bottle, poured out some wine, without dis- 
 turbing the meditations of his master, (bur- 
 dened from this hour with so heavy a respon- 
 sibility,) and the bronze Belle also received the 
 balsam of life. 
 
 She whispered then, very low, and hardly 
 audibly, her " Dabedicademlofimago, hi-hi-hi," 
 and disappeared trippingly from the scene. 
 
 The baron looked again into the letter, and 
 read . " Should it be impossible fur you to es- 
 cort the condemned in safe custody to Argentina
 
 266 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 ground, and sTinuld the danger occur of loosino;| 
 her out of your power, it remains with you, in 
 such a case, to take your measures." He shrank 
 back, severely shocked, and his countenance 
 lost Its color.' Prole seized a glass and bottle, 
 helped himself a';ain, and acted as if he had not 
 observed his employer. 
 
 According to the formerly described construc- 
 tion of Brazilian dwellinss, like the one in 
 which we now find ourselves in spirit, a little 
 door led from the alcove under the stairs, 
 through into the alcove of the back room. 
 
 In an entirely peculiar state of mind in which 
 we have already contemplated her, Sarah had 
 li-ft h-T tamancas st.anding where they were 
 when she lay, with naked feet, accordini; to 
 Brazilian custom, on the wide sofa, and had 
 slipped down stairs slowly and softly, while 
 Bebida brou^jht the wine. For the case that 
 she might beobsorved, she had taken her guitar 
 with her, that she might, as before, sing her 
 favorite song there, as if she had wished to 
 surprise the baron. She arrived at the door of 
 the alcove, whose antiquated keyhole afforded 
 a conveaient view of the baron, who sat oppo- 
 site to the alcove, at the designated round table, 
 on which stood the wax candles, by whose 
 light he re.id the letter, .\lthough he mur- 
 mured very low, and the letter was written in 
 French, in which language he likewise also con- 
 versed with Prole, Sarah attained her design — 
 of spying for the present the spy himself 
 
 A gii-1 in Sarah's situation would be likely to 
 trouble lierself little about what her friend or 
 owner does when he is away from her; still, 
 ft certain female curiosity might, in the begin- 
 liing, have turned her attention to the secret 
 meetings of the baron with the amigalhao, who, 
 according to appearances, might be less his 
 friend than his servant. Abstractly from the 
 contracted education of a common English coun- 
 try girl, she had, nevertheless, developed a cer- 
 tain natural understanding, which is at times 
 riglitly designated by the name of " mother 
 wit," insomuch as it embraces hereditary or na- 
 tive talent. 
 
 As little capable as a young girl, transplanted 
 from an English village into the capital of a 
 foreign cou.itry, might be to form an idea of the 
 political and religious struggles, or of the posi- 
 tions and sacrifices of parties, she had, notwith- 
 etaadlng, as an English woman, so much notion 
 of the people's party, and of their oppression 
 by the ■'' powerful of tlie earth," of radicals, and 
 v/higs, and lories, as. every English country girl 
 has, who, Irom her cluidhood, hoars politics 
 talked .ab.iul, and regularly, even if only from 
 curiosity, runs through a weekly or daily paper. 
 The word " traitor" embraces in England, to 
 the honor of the English national character, 
 an idea so decidedly contemptible, that it is 
 difficult, especially among the middle classes, to 
 find a man who does not partake of the above 
 feeling of contempt. 
 
 This undeniable sentiment of rectitude, which 
 abhors all treachery, and rouses the heart against 
 the traitor, is a characteristic of the British 
 people, that the nxmarchial government which 
 there, as everywhere, stands rigidly opposed to 
 the people) does not always partake of 
 
 Sally would probably have been as little likely 
 ou that evening, as hitherto, to take into her 
 
 head to trouble herself with the business of h(ir 
 " friend," if his suggestion, that she should take a 
 personal share in his espionage, had not brought 
 her to the resolution to observe him, to ascertain 
 his position. 
 
 In the hiding place above mentioned, she 
 could not only contemplate at her ease every 
 expression upon the countenance, but under- 
 stand, for the most part the meaning of those 
 passages in the letter which he read in frag- 
 ments. 
 
 .'\ superficial knowledge of the French, (for 
 which her second acquaintance had afforded an 
 opportunity,) as well as the analogy of the two 
 languages in many important words, enabled 
 her to presume, if not thoroughly to perceive, 
 beyond all expectation, circumstances and rela- 
 tions whose effect and impression were from 
 time to time vividly expressed on the fully 
 lighted countenance of the baron. 
 
 Sally had perceived that the affair concerned 
 a she — that it was about a female. The poor 
 creature might be whatever men and her fate 
 had made of her ; still she was, and ever re- 
 mained, a woman. As woman, she took as 
 lively an interest in one of her sex, as yet en- 
 tirely unknown to her, as many protected by the 
 favor of fortune, and by a misimprudence in 
 their intercourse with men, would perhaps have 
 shown for her. 
 
 Sally was unfortunate — despairingly unfortu- 
 nate ; and in such a situation a lively interest in 
 the danger and sufferings of others is often les!) 
 foreign to the female heart than in the giddiness 
 of pleasure and the lap of comfort. She heard 
 the word Buenos Ayres, and had been sufficient- 
 ly long in Brazil to be aware of the war and 
 struggle for life and death, which went on upon 
 the river La Plata. 
 
 The baron who appeared to have recovered 
 from the first shock, and to have found himself 
 again in the consciousnes of his executioner's 
 office, cast another glance upon the letter and 
 read: 
 
 " As relates to Hinangn, it will be of little 
 avail to arrest him so long as he does not take an 
 active part in the events in Brazil, or here with 
 us, since as yet we possess no testimony against 
 him. If you are able to obtain such, and will 
 t,ike the consequences of the arrest upon your- 
 self, then do what you think proper— it is your 
 affair." 
 
 " I thank you exceedingly .'" said he, tolerably 
 loud ; " it is my afTair, certainly. My life is also 
 my afTair and I am not the least inclined at pre- 
 sent to hazard it against a ' Young European.' 
 1 will here have noting to do personally with a 
 ' Young European,' who may belong to the cen- 
 tral committee and have his associates here. The 
 suspicion of an accusation would fall upon me— 
 it would then come to light, and my game would 
 then be ruined here forever ! No, your excellen- 
 cy, 1 am no fool ; I will keep watch of him, and 
 take care that he shall be put out of the way be- 
 fore he, with his Astrala, shall Sire upon the Bra- 
 zilian or Argentine Hag — bul so long as he is in 
 the neighborhood and commands a vessel, even 
 as a privateer, 1 cannot accomplish my work 
 here — that is very evident." 
 
 Sally was shocked— a man was then to be put 
 out of the way— a " Young European "—who ap- 
 peared to maintain a peculiar position- -whom
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 the baron feared — he was to be murdered if she 
 had rightly understood. 
 
 " The Astrala will take cannon on board, and 
 small arms," remarked Prole, who heard the 
 name. 
 
 " I know that already; thank you, neverthe- 
 less, for your heedfulness," rejoined the other, 
 filling his glass. 
 
 " The young man, Senhor Horatio de P , 
 
 visits the negro from Goa in the Rua do Va- 
 longo ; Dr. Thorfin too. Both still live on the 
 Gloria," continued Prole. 
 
 " Do many Brazilians go in and out at Dr. 
 Thorfin's ?" 
 
 " But few ; according to appearances patients, 
 under his treatment." 
 
 Sally was all ear — not a word escaped her, 
 and the simple sentences were very intelligable 
 to her. Then Dr. Thorfin, a physician — lives on 
 the Gloria. She noted this address without 
 knowing yet whether some other would not fol- 
 low that might serve in case of need. 
 
 " Young Mr. Walker goes very often to Dr. 
 Thorfin's " 
 
 " I know that; 'tis well, however, that you 
 know it also. He is very dangerous to us," con- 
 tinued he, half to himself, " especially if the 
 embarkation should take place ; he would then 
 accompany the condemned, and that would be 
 bad — that must not be ; and to put him out of 
 the way, that would not answer, he is an Eng- 
 lishman, and I will not meddle with the English, 
 for the future less than ever." 
 
 Sally heard the mention of a young English- 
 tnan — who stood in the way of the plot — which 
 still, to be sure, remained obscure to her — but 
 she heard, also, for the second time, the words 
 " for the future," what might they signify .' 
 
 " Young Mr. Kossbriick has sailed for Europe 
 again." 
 
 " That's no concern of ours — you knew that 
 long ago, he may go, and attend to his business 
 better in Europe than he did here !" 
 
 " Your Patrick appears to watch the Vesta or 
 Astrala, as she is called, very attentively. I see 
 him very often upon the island of Cobras." 
 
 " I don't trust the fellow, I have made arrange- 
 ments to have him watched — he is not so stupid 
 as he appears, and I am more clever than he 
 probably believes me. But nothing can be done 
 to that fellow either ; he is only a sailor to be 
 sure, but an English subject, and has his ambas- 
 sador and consul here — and if I were to have 
 him arrested to send him to Buenos Ayres, he 
 would be set at liberty right away again. I had 
 hoped that the fellow was dissipated, and thought 
 I had found in him the right person, but it was 
 a great mistake. He drinks, to be sure, his 
 glass of grog like any other Irishman, but he is 
 not a drunkard, de does not revel nor steal, and 
 will deceive nobody but me. I must see and 
 get him aboard of some vessel for a long voyage 
 — that he may be out of our way. I do not trust 
 the fellow." 
 
 Sally had again heard much, and understood a 
 great deal — Patrick was then the subject — whom 
 she was to spy through Lucy ! She had heard 
 that Patrick was an honest fellow; well, per- 
 haps she could employ him directly to take some 
 step, as soon as she should have formed any re- 
 solution. 
 
 " Thase are all our passengers from the 
 
 Nordstjernan," continued Prole, " for you know 
 already that Alvarez is arrested." 
 
 " I know that ; his sister is Madame Serafini. 
 I knew that long ago, through Mr. Closting, but 
 I was obliged to wait for the arrival. It was to 
 be foreseen that he would compromise himself 
 then. The name of Daily has hitherto availed 
 him merely upon his ticket of residence. I had 
 respect for him — on account of Walker and 
 Thomson — and must for the future have still 
 more." 
 
 Sally heard again the words " for the future," 
 what did he mean by that .' Had they reference 
 to the contents of a letter which he had just 
 named ? How should she find out .' 
 
 "About the lady who came in the Nordstjernan. 
 I need, also, make no report to you ?" asked Prole, 
 with a significant glance, " as you ordered me." 
 
 " Thank you, I will observe her myself" ^ 
 
 " But to convince you that I am more service- 
 able than you usually believe, I will tell you who 
 she is." 
 
 " Indeed," cried the chief, with a smiling 
 mien ; " then you, also, have found that out ?" 
 
 " It is Seiiora Dolores — the author of the 
 famous Elegies, condemned to death in Buenos 
 Ayres — whom you, Monsieur le Baron, are to 
 produce alive upon Argentine ground," said tha 
 deputy spy, slowly, and very significantly. 
 
 Sally trembled and shuddered. The matter 
 concerned, also, the delivery of a lady who was 
 condemned to death — a poetess who had arrived 
 with the Nordstjernan. 
 
 " What more did the poor girl require to 
 know, to confirm in her the resolution to do her 
 best for the deliverance of the condemned." 
 
 " Bravo !" exclaimed the baron, when Prole 
 had revealed his mystery, " that does you honor ; 
 I will render a brilliant report about you, to 
 Buenos Ayres — about you, Senhor Prole, I say : 
 you shall receive an appointment there as soon 
 as you return. But you must go, at present, to 
 Santos, on board the man-of-war that lies there 
 — you must hold personal communication with 
 the captain. It is the brig La Caza — the same 
 for which Patrick was impressed — the same that 
 was sent after the Swedish brig. The captain's 
 name is Tumble. This letter here is from him, 
 he has claims upon the reward that is set on tha 
 head of Dolores. He has had a fellow on board 
 who knew nearly as much as I, and who was 
 thrown overboard from the cutter. Captain 
 Tumble liad found out a great deal in Buenos 
 Ayres, had conceived similar suspicions of 
 Dolores, when it came out that she had gone 
 away with Mr. Walker as his sister. He only 
 lays claim to half the reward, and has received 
 orders to be helpful to me — that is the commis- 
 sion ! But Dolores is guarded and protected on 
 all sides, surrounded by attendants, and armed. 
 How to bring her from Bota Fogo — on board tiie 
 Caza — that, Senhor Prole — that is a problem that 
 you truly cannot solve." 
 
 Sally trembled more violently than before. 
 The whole affair became clearer and clearer — at 
 the same time, however, she found re-assurance 
 and consolation in the difficulties which the be- 
 trayer himself recognized. 
 
 " You must then go to-morrow to Santos — no, 
 the day after to-morrow — to-morrow I have no 
 time to send you. To-morrow I celebrate my 
 betrothal."
 
 268 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " With Miss Thomson, if I may inquire .'" 
 " With Miss Thomson," replied the baron 
 " and tlierefore I cannut go mjself to Santos at 
 present." 
 
 Sally was near fainting; not that she by any 
 means had ever conceived the idea that the 
 baron wonid marry her. She had never thought 
 of that, and would now have hardly accepted 
 such a proposal. But this man was about to 
 celebrate his betrothal on the morrow — to unite 
 himself with a female, who (let her be who she 
 
 mi{;ht) would marry a rudcal in him. She 
 
 had now learned enough, and her resolution was 
 more than ever confirmed. But she must put 
 lier hand to the work. She must, if possible, ob- 
 tain ])Ossession of this letter from Buenos Ayres, 
 for some hours, to em|)loy it at the risk of her 
 own life. How and in what manner.' that also 
 she had already planned out. She left her post 
 quickly but softly, slipped back up tlie >tairs, 
 made a noise there as if she came from above, 
 and sang, with a loud voice : 
 
 ■' I'he Devil take nio-laii-cho-ly — ! 
 I'll not live on so lonely feu- ert-r — 
 Myself to a man TU drlivrr, 
 Anil not love liim unless kc loves mc " :11 : 
 
 Without having altered her toilet (which was 
 properly less than a toilet) she flew into the room, 
 seized the Baron around the neck, and cried 
 " Bebida ! bring some champagne, the Dutch 
 wine does not suit Sally ! Where are you stay- 
 ing this evening. Prince Albert.' my Albert! 
 I've dreamed charmingly, God knows how long, 
 up there, upon the elastic divan. I dreamed I was 
 Queen Victortj, and you were the real Prince 
 Albert, and that all England belonged to us two, 
 and Scotland and IreUmd ! and Robert Peel was 
 our chamberlain and O'Connell our coachman, 
 and Lord Melbourne was our pensioned groitm 
 out of service, and Lord Palmerston was a 
 Chassetu' on the bo.x in a Russian green livery, 
 and Great Britain was a well stufied armchair 
 like that in which you are sitting. Come, let 
 me sit by you, or upon you ! — so — now I sit well ! 
 Now, Bebida ! where does it stay .' that forlorn 
 
 oyster without a shell .' How are you Senhor 
 
 Prole ? what is your wife doing in Monte Video .' 
 and your children .' I mean your wife's children, 
 that's true ! you don't understand much English. 
 Albert, he my interpreter ; I will pay you for it 
 as honestly as an interpreter would be paid by 
 Queen Victoria when the Turkish ambassador 
 tells her about his three hundred wives in Con- 
 stantinople. Albert its a pity you are not Sul- 
 tan — you have a talent for .Sultanhood ! — There's 
 Bebida ! Now, Prince Albert, knock off the head 
 of a bottle — be an executioner for once I" 
 
 " Dabedicadem — vinho — ahame-pain ! hi-hi- 
 hi — vinho bonito !" grinned Bebida, placing two 
 botlles on the table. 
 
 *' Now one more, right away !" cried the slave 
 of the traitor, who now thought of her freedom I 
 " One more, right away, Bebida ! I have a thirst 
 for shame-pain, a thirst to-night! My heart 
 is like a burnt coal, but it glimmers and glows 
 
 yet! 1 will quench it out entirely ! The devil 
 
 take me-lan-cho-ly !" she exclaimed, and threw 
 the Dutch night cap off the baron on the engrav- 
 ing of Rahab and the two persecuted men of 
 lereal, which we formerly designated. 
 
 Bebida brought the " fancy perruque" back 
 again, Sarah pulled it down over the nose of the 
 
 spy, then emptied a glass of champagne, and 
 seized her guitar. After some wild clmrds, sha 
 accompanied her voice in tempo furioso in the 
 following strophes ; 
 
 " A health now, to phi-lo-fo-phy — ! 
 11 you lie, none will ever tielieve you, 
 It you cheat, they are sure to deceive you. 
 But defe])lion of souls taniiot he I — 
 
 -Dec^Iition of souls cannot be ', 
 
 ' Long life, tlien, to phi-lo-so-phy — 1 
 The church still her payment is taking 
 For the wedtlin^^fi each night she is making, 
 While champagne drowns an-ti-pa-thy ! — 
 
 — While champagne drowns an-li-pa-thy !" 
 
 She rasped in ascending furioso a final chord, 
 and em|itied her glass again with ecjual fury. 
 
 "Isn't that a beautiful song. Prince Albert? 
 that was written by a Saxon |irincess, and Don 
 Pedro the First set it to music w hen he had com- 
 pleted his celebrated " Brasilienne.''* It is an 
 imperially rnval song! and has great resem- 
 blance to the high song of Solomon : " His left 
 hand lies under my heart, and his right embraces 
 me." And wherein it is once said : " My friend 
 is white and ruddy, the chief among many thou- 
 sands !" — that's you. Prince Albert ! and where- 
 in it is further said : '* I am a wall, and my 
 breasts are towers!" — that's me. Prince -\lbert 
 — that's your Sally, from Norfolkshire, in Old 
 England. Long live Sally of Norfolkshire! 
 Your health Senhor Proletary or Secret-ary. 
 But now I want to be serious, and talk to you 
 about business," she began, after a pause, while 
 " Prince Albert " contemplated her profile with 
 peculiar satisfaction, as it balanced before hia 
 turned ujj nose. 
 
 " You told me about a Pussy or liUcy that I 
 must spy on account of your boatman, Patrick 
 Gentleman, or whatever he is called. I have 
 though over the thing. What's the use of my 
 having a long talk with Lucy fir&t. I propose 
 another way ; but drink. Prince Albert ! don't 
 you see your Queen Victory drink also? then 
 you want to know what Patrick is about, or 
 something of that sort. Tell me what you want 
 to get out of him, and I'll take upon myself to 
 bring out what's in him — only tliere'U hardly 
 be much money got out of him." 
 
 " You see, child," replied the Baron, " I'm a 
 S|iy — 1 spy the negro traders here, that go back 
 and forth between here and Africa — ^j'ou knovf 
 already that the slave trade is prohibited." 
 
 " To be sure — to be sure ; you can't carry off 
 any more blacks, but as many white female slavea 
 as you will. Well, go on." 
 
 " You see then, child, I have appointed Pat- 
 rick as deputy spy ; he is to observe a slave 
 trader for me, who is fitting out here to go to 
 Angola— Patrick is to watch him when he goes 
 to sea — then we shall go after him, out to the 
 Sugar Loaf, and take him !" — 
 
 " We .' we also ? we two and Bebida, out to 
 the Sugar Loaf, on tlie negro hunt .' the thing 
 pleases me — I'm agreed to it. ' The devil take 
 me-lan-cho-ly !' " said she, and took her glass 
 and drank. 
 
 The baron found the extravagance of Sally so 
 natural, and her proposal to deal directly with 
 Patrick so entirely corresponding with her 
 
 The " Brasilienne," as is well known, was composed 
 by Don Pedro.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 269 
 
 mother wit, that he entered into the plan without 
 the slightest gns|iicion. 
 
 " I will tell you why I want to speak directly 
 with Patrick. You wish it to renmin secret 
 that I know you or that you know me, or that 
 
 We both know each other. The devil take 
 
 hypocrisy," said she, interrupting herself again, 
 and seizing her guitar, she sang : 
 
 *' The devil take hy-poc-ri-sy— ; 
 I'rn boun i to show love and affection, 
 And to hide every crime from detection — 
 Champagne here', that blots oat all an-ti-pa-thy. 
 
 " And you will perceive," continued she, as 
 if she had not interrupted herself, "that it is 
 easier to maintain my incognito without Pussy 
 or Lucy, than with her." 
 
 " How so ? explain that to me." 
 
 " I will exjilain that to you. Prince Albert," 
 eontiuued she, with a very serious tone, seating 
 herself the most comfortably possible in his lap. 
 " Here is one person, and yet another, to be ad- 
 mitted behind the curtain — Lucy and Patrick. 
 Now a man is ten times better to leave behind 
 the curtain than a woman — and if the woman be 
 also only a poor Lucy that sews for money — or 
 docs no one knows what for money, the matter 
 is very jilain! therefore, my prince, I would 
 rather admit your Patrick directly behind the 
 curtain, than to risk that Lucy should lead you 
 and me behind the curtain, around the left hand 
 corner — do you understand me ? Oh how hand- 
 some you are to-night! and how I love you, so 
 long as you give me plenty of champagne ! how 
 interestmgyou are, when you have on your Dutch 
 nightcap ! 
 
 Long life, then, to phi-lo-so-phy — ! 
 
 The church still her payment is taking — 
 
 and besides, my pet, I would like to see what 
 sort of a youth Patrick is ! if he is a fellow that 
 looks like something in his sailors' jacket, then 
 I will take him to the court tailor of the Prince 
 de Joinville,* in the Rua do Ouvidor, and have a 
 gentleman made out of him — a dandy — as elegant 
 as any one to be found in the botanical garden, 
 and he shall then be my ' cavaliere servente ;' or, 
 properly, your ' cavaliere servente,' as the Catho- 
 lics in Rome call it when the Pope's lady has her 
 
 • This is not by any means an anachronism. A Pari- 
 •ian tailor bore this title u|)on his large .sign in Rio, 
 years before the marriage of the prince with the Bi'aziliah 
 princess 
 
 friend ! do you understand ? That is my plan 
 with Patrick; and now drink— and let your tire- 
 some Senhnr Prole-tary go home and to bed; 
 and do you lie down and go to sleep, and let me 
 alone, for I have politics in my head — a whole 
 two legged Iri.shman, named Patrick, is running 
 about in my head." 
 
 " Very well, Sally, I thank you for your at- 
 tention, and will entirely follow your pbn. How 
 w ii; ycu majiuLt' to speak to him .' shall he come 
 here !" 
 
 " Do you think I ought to go to him .' perhaps 
 in his room, if he occupies one.*" inijuired she 
 with all the humor which was peculiar to her. 
 " You mean me to visit a gentleman i" What's 
 come over you .' But jesting aside, ask our 
 Amigalhao to say to Patrick that an English 
 lady h,is inquired about him — an English lady ! 
 mind that ! — who lives in such a place, and is 
 called so and so. But 1 must have a name ready 
 for him ! Well, then, my name is Lady Hamlet. 
 What name have you given me to Lucy ?" 
 
 " Why, the lirst name that occurred to me; I 
 wrote the name of iVIrs. Adams on a card, with 
 the name of this street, and sent it by a negro to 
 the little tavern." 
 
 " Well then. Prince, if Patrick comes I am 
 Lady Hamlet; if Lucy comes, I am Mrs. Adams; 
 and I will receive Lucy in the front, and Patrick 
 in the back room. Lady Hamlet and Mrs. Adams 
 are sisters, and look very much alike — all that 
 will do nicely. Now otily give the Amigalhao 
 the address of Lady Hamlet quickly, and go to 
 bed, and don't disturb me in my politics — for this 
 night !" 
 
 Sally twanged again her favorite melody, " the 
 devil lake,"&c., and disappeared. 
 
 The Amigalhao had yet much to report about 
 Rio Grande, and the arrival of a monk, in Pata- 
 gonian costume, in the camp of the rebels, not 
 far from the town of Laguna, where he com- 
 raandc-d a body of cavalry. " It is the Benedic- 
 tine Celeste, the friend of the traitor Alphonso, 
 who gave him the sacrament in prison," added he. 
 " Very well !" assented the chief, writing the 
 name and address of Lady Hamlet in a feigned 
 hand upon a card, with which the Amigalhao 
 took his leave. 
 
 Bebida had long ago fallen asleep on her straw 
 pallet in the back room. The master of the 
 house locked and bolted the garden gate and the 
 house door with his own hand, and betook him' 
 self likewise to rest — at least to bed. 
 
 ■"»»i^»»»» a ft » I ff^rtin-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 CHAPTER I, 
 
 BPimrrAi. ' 
 
 ' RAPPORT. 
 
 I 
 
 Gracia awaited the return of her friend from 
 BotaFogo with greater impatience than ever. It 
 ■was late jn the evening. Her soul resembled 
 an ocean of sentiment, excited to its fathomless 
 depths by the hurricane which, as the heaven- 
 storming and hope-destroying ** power of cir- 
 cumstances," beat around the weakly manned 
 barlf of her love, to swallow it up, or to dash it 
 in pieces against some one of the rocks on the 
 neighboring coast. 
 
 Her heart throbbed and fluttered, and her 
 pulses seemed overpowered by the predomina- 
 ting force of the nerve fluid, whic+i streamed 
 through her frame from the thought-embracing 
 fibres of the braip, down to the executing or 
 gans of the trembling finger ends. 
 
 The intelligence that her husband was only a 
 day's journey from the capital, and would be 
 there the next evening, had renewed a destroy 
 ing struggle within her heart, that seemed long 
 ago subdued — long ago interrupted by a truce, 
 but eternally renewed — and after long bluster 
 and fury, left the hostile forces in the same posi- 
 tion in which they stood when the " declaration 
 of war " took place, through Robert's entrance 
 into her asylum. 
 
 The question of the existence or non-existence 
 of her inward life again arose, as a so called 
 " vital question." She had felt long since that 
 she only belonged to one, that only one sacrifi- 
 cial flame could rise from the altar of her heart. 
 She had long since received the mysterious com- 
 mandment of love : " Thou shalt have no other 
 gods but me." She had recognised in Robert 
 the unity of love, in its operations from his mind 
 upon herself, and in the reaction of her soul 
 upon him. Led by this mysterious, irresistible 
 
 f lower of love, she had admitted to him that she 
 oved him, when in a state of mind that was a 
 riddle to herself, and remained a riddle to her 
 while on earth. 
 
 But opposed to the unity of love, the despotic, 
 many headed monster of "social duty" now 
 reared itself — a duty which she herself had 
 originally assumed, and since then fulfiled in 
 every respect, with the willing subordination of 
 a gluve. 
 
 She must now choose, and had long since 
 chosen ; she must now put her choice in execu- 
 tion, and was, nevertheless, unable to do so. 
 
 She had believed it possible to detach and 
 separate the spiritual life from her clay — to rend 
 her soul from her body — to give her love to the 
 one, and herself to the other — and the indisso- 
 lubility, the unity of her being, contradicted 
 such a possibility. The " either or " arose 
 again, as the absolute demand of necessity ; with 
 this demand, in opposition to the many headed 
 monster of social duty, arose just as sacred a 
 duty of love. Her love had penetrated the life 
 of a man in its deepest depths, and found in 
 those depths its spiritual existence — while so- 
 cial duty bound her to a man whom, according 
 to her own admission, she did not love, and 
 whose heart was " a rock, from which no magic 
 rod of love had been able to lead forth a foun- 
 tain of reciprocal atl'ection, nor a drop of senti- 
 ment." 
 
 She pondered over her future, cursed her past 
 — but no contemplation of the one, and no curse 
 upon the other, could extricate her a hair- 
 breadth from her present position. 
 
 The raging hurricane of the heaven-storming 
 and hope destroying " power of circumstances" 
 roared on, and the weakly manned skiff of her 
 love now mounted to the black clouds, which had 
 long since concealed the last star of the future, 
 and was now again flung down into the sepul- 
 chral night of her marriage without sympathy. 
 When Robert was not at home, she lingered 
 in his pavilion. The light for her flower-making 
 seemed better to her there. Robert's armchair 
 at his writing-desk appeared more comfortable. 
 His window afforded her a prospect of the pic- 
 turesque entrance between the colossal granite 
 rocks of " Santa Cruz " and the " Sugar Loaf," 
 less concealed by near standing bananas and 
 jacarandas, than at the east window in her own 
 pavilion. She found Robert's piano better sound- 
 ing than her own, (as we knew long since,) and 
 had a peculiar satisfaction in arranging his apart- 
 ment with her own hand, placing fresli flowers 
 in his vases, and putting away his books, and 
 papers, and music, to make the room homelike 
 for him before he returned. 
 
 In the above intimated state of mind which is 
 indescribable in words, she founil herself in
 
 272 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Robert's pavilion, on the evening when he left 
 her and rode towards Bota Fogo. 
 
 She endeavored at length to reassure, to com- 
 pose, to anuise herself, and turned over Robert's 
 music, and here and there a written copy of a 
 son"-. A leaf came to her hand, a poem in Span- 
 ish,^ which lay in a half open envelope, in the 
 form of a letter. It was not Roliert's handwriting ; 
 it was a hand stamped by a character of manly 
 firmness, and yet it had about it somethina; wo- 
 manlv— a certain peculiar delicicy. But she 
 ioon ibraot the handwriting in the impression of 
 the poem, wliich she first read hastily, and then 
 once more, and then another time. It bore the 
 superscription " El Desterrado," (The Exile,) 
 and was as follows : 
 
 *• Kindred and fatherland 
 
 Ne'er shall I see, 
 By fate's relentless band 
 
 Severed from me. 
 Only to me remains 
 Life, with iis caies and pains, 
 And until 1 am dead. 
 Nought but the bitter bread, 
 
 Of the sad exils. 
 
 Glory, hope, earthly good, 
 
 Love's gol 'en chains. 
 Vainly tor aught I sued, 
 
 Nothing remains, 
 But in this foreign land. 
 Sore wounded, hardly scanned, 
 Lonely to lay my head. 
 And eat the bitter bread 
 
 Of weary exile. 
 
 I wander on the shore 
 
 Where the wavc^ dash, 
 And surging evermore, 
 
 Mournfully pla^h j 
 Ever reminding me 
 Of my sad destiny, 
 While o'er the sajids I tread, 
 Loathing the bitter bread 
 
 Of gloomy exile. 
 
 No friendly form appears 
 
 To soothe my woes. 
 None bid nic dry my tears 
 
 And tind repose. 
 1 must forgotten be, 
 None dare remember me: 
 They think of me as dead, 
 While mine's the bitter bread, 
 
 Of the lorn e.\ile. 
 
 Where'er I wind my way. 
 
 Sadly and slow. 
 To sorrow still a prey. 
 
 Lonely 1 go : 
 While the cold world to me 
 Giveth no welcome free, 
 But, with averted head, 
 Grudges the bitter bread 
 
 Of the poor exile. 
 
 When my last hour shall come. 
 
 Cold and serene. 
 When for the silent tomh 
 
 I quit the scene ; 
 Then in a foreign land. 
 On the deserted strand 
 Washed by the ocean wave 
 Shall he the lonely grave 
 
 Of the worn exile. 
 
 No cross my tomh will bear, 
 
 No loved one weep, 
 And offer pious prayer, 
 
 Where 1 shall sleep. 
 Thus banished and alone, 
 Comfortle>s and unknown. 
 His days of bitter grief. 
 To wtiich death brings relief, 
 
 Ends the poor exile." 
 
 ' By whom was this poem ? Why had Robert 
 eerer imparted it to her ' To whom was it ad- 
 
 dressed .' where was it written .' In Rio de Ja- 
 neiro, upon the same paper that Robert always 
 used, which his negro brought from his count- 
 ing-house to the garden gate ; it was of the same 
 form, the same bluish tint, it bore the_ same 
 English mark. By whom was the poem ? How 
 could Robert bring this wonderful Elegy home 
 without immediately communicating it to her .' 
 hllowinE her the enjoyment of reading it vvith 
 him .'* "Did he believe her incapable of feeling, 
 with him, the unspeakably touching elevation 
 of this intellectual sigh :" 
 
 Gracia had never felt what exile was; she 
 had never reflected upon the ide.i of fatberland. 
 What should occasion her to reflect upon it ? 
 She had never concerned herself about politics, 
 and like a child with its mother's milk, she had 
 imbibed, as a woman in conjugal life, the modes 
 of thinking and views of hej husband, in all 
 that related to politics. Her husband, denying 
 patriotism, declared the strug.gles of the patriots 
 in Brazil to be rebellion against the ruling 
 powers, and transitory occurrences. 
 
 Her husband appeared to have had no feeling 
 for fatherland, and she herself had, until this 
 moment, never reflected that the paranies of 
 her wonderful home lay in Brazil : t'lat her 
 fatherland was where her nation lived, wheie 
 her cradle had stood, where as a child she had 
 played and prattled with her flowers. .K singu- 
 lar, strange, untrodden region of perception 
 was revealed to her through this Elegy ; the 
 perception of a position of man, united to man- 
 kind by the sacred bond of patriotism, which 
 even asserted its influence at a far, far distance, 
 as love. 
 
 She perceived the idea of fatherland — conse- 
 crated bv the first impression we receive of 
 life — matie sacred by the first sentiment that 
 ever awakes within lis, by the first pleasures we 
 enjoyed, by the first tears we shed, in joy or sor- 
 row, and by the first anguish that pierced our 
 loving souls. 
 
 She read the poem yet once more, and it was 
 to her, as if suddenly the ray of a never sus- 
 pected strength of mind streamed through her. 
 Her "interior clairvoyance" suddenly awoke 
 as a somnambulist awakes, with covered eyes, 
 in that cloud-formcd element of light, whose 
 splendor surrounds her, and in whose distance 
 move the forms and transparent images of the 
 mysterious, higher existence — the abode of the 
 soul-life ! — — - 
 
 She found herself suddenly in the real world 
 of her spiritual existence ; cut oft' and rigidly 
 separated from the petrified, dreamy form of ma- 
 terial vegetation. 
 
 Robert returning, cast a glance from the 
 threshold of the gate through the open door of 
 his pavilion, and immediately remarked his 
 friend seated in his armchair, by his round table, 
 with the candles lighted. She ha>tened towards 
 him with the sheet in her hand, greeted him 
 with the heartiness peculiar to her, and said : 
 " 1 have again been indiscreet ! 1 have been 
 looking through your papers again, to find love 
 letters, and found this adnnirable Elegy ! Who 
 wrote it ? To whym is the Elegy addressed ? " 
 
 ■ VJ V 1 1 1 . 
 
 • This Elegy, as.w<.')ljis|tl>e ". HurBn-of; Cjiiise.'' " Do- 
 lores," pa5CS69, ^0, arDn«a^rnL*e. ^t;^p^.i,^b■o,rig;9^1so^ 
 a poetess Irom the Tiver Lk flata', 'wliode uiitae 1 aip not 
 authorized to give. Hikiti.^
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 2tS 
 
 "To an exile," replied Robert, smiling. 
 
 " I thank you for the information !" replied 
 Gracia; " but [ shall not allow mvself to be put 
 off so ; I must know who the lilegy is from, 
 and to whom it is addressed." 
 
 ** In case I could even answer the first ques- 
 tion — in case I knew from what collection the 
 poem was copied — how could I then know, ex- 
 actly, to whom it is addressed. Has Lord Byron 
 given the name of the Indies to whom many of 
 nis Elegies are addressed ?" 
 
 " Then the poem has been transcribed from 
 some book herein Rio?" continued Gracia, as 
 she re-entered the pavilion with him. *' Well ! 
 then bring me the book, 1 beseech you ! will 
 ycu .' will you bring me the book ?" 
 
 The naVve earnestness which spoke in this 
 request, disarmed Rol>ert's resolution to conceal 
 from her the origin of the poem. He could not 
 tell her an untruth — he could not lie, especially 
 when Gracia addres'ied a question to him. It 
 cost him a sufficient effort long ago, when he 
 had occcsion to speak of his *' sister " to her. 
 
 " It would have its difhcultics to bring you 
 the book," replied he, " yet you may, never- 
 theless, become acquainted with it some time 
 or other : it is a copious book, but a living 
 one." 
 
 " Then tlie poetess is here, if that is her hand- 
 writing !" 
 
 " How so ? she may even be somewhere else !" 
 
 " Then she has been here, however." 
 
 ** Why do you su[)pose so ?" 
 
 " Because the poem is written upon your 
 counting-house paper." 
 
 Robert started. " You women are truly born 
 for spies," said he, smiling. "Then you have 
 already made that discovery ? Well, the poem 
 is by my sister." 
 
 " By your sister !" cried Gracia, with on ex- 
 pression of amazement and wonder. " Then 
 your sister writes poems in the Spanish lan- 
 guage .'" added she, with a certain coldness, as 
 a doubt of the truth of this assertion took pos- 
 session of her mind, just as involuntarily as the 
 impression from the reading of the Elegy had 
 seized her. Easily as it might be possitile for 
 an English woman, living in Buenos Ayres from 
 her childhood, to become as familiar with the 
 Spanish as with her mother tongue, still there 
 was something about it that contradicted pro- 
 bability, and this something was just as inex- 
 plicable to her, as the impression of the poem 
 itself upon her mind. 
 
 " I do not know, Robert," began she, after 
 long silence ; " I do not know how I shall ex- 
 press myself about this Elegy; I have read so 
 many poems in different languages, but none 
 ever wrought upon me like tliis one. I doubt 
 whether it is the poem alone that has so thrilled 
 me ; is it not in some way the spirit of the 
 authoress, in all its purity and elevation, that 
 speaks in this poem, and calls into requisition a 
 certain sympathy of my soul — draws my whole 
 being upward to itself— involuntarily and irre- 
 sistibly fetters and attracts me towards it ? It is 
 soul, and whoever is not attracted by this poem, 
 has no soul. May I know who it is by ?" in- 
 quired she, with that indescribably mild voice 
 which characterized the childishness of her- 
 nature, in undeniable contradiction to the ex- 
 istence of the " little creature," who just then 
 34 
 
 bade good night to her mother and the neighbor, 
 as she was carried to bed. 
 
 Robert found himself in singular embarrass- 
 ment. His relations to Gracia had long ag» 
 annihilated every secret between them. Hs 
 breathed as a part of her being, and lived only 
 in her heart; neither suspicion nor mistrust 
 against her, lay within the scope of his exist- 
 ence. The pleasing sadness that prevailed in 
 her, in consequence of the reading, was as un- 
 feigned as every expression of her inward life. 
 Notwithstanding this, however, he had laid 
 himself under a sort of moral obligation to pre- 
 serve a secret which had become more urgent 
 than ever before. 
 
 Gracia remarked, by means of the spiritual 
 organ of her womanhood, (for which a determi- 
 nate word fails us,) that she had come in con- 
 tact with a secret, and suddenly, though in- 
 voluntarily, altered her tone, which was not bf 
 any means less gentle, but had in it all the mora 
 sadness. 
 
 " Well, Robert," said she, after a renewed 
 pause, " the poem then is by your " sister," and 
 it is addressed to Hinango ?" 
 
 " But how in the world did you come to sus- 
 pect that .' Have you become clairvoyant thiJ 
 evening ?" inquired he, retreating a step, and 
 contemplating her with wonder. 
 
 " My state of mind may be something of ths 
 sort," replied Gracia; " I have also found it out. 
 In that case, this poem will prove the effect 
 which the mind of your sister would probably 
 have upon me. Greet your sister," continued 
 she, with a tremulous voice, " and greet Hinan- 
 go, to whom, after to-morrow, it will no longer 
 Ise of any use to keep my residence a secret." 
 
 Suddenly shocked by the connexion of ideas 
 in relation to the return of her husband, she sank 
 into an armchair, covered her face, and we|)t. 
 
 Robert trembled. A long pause followed, 
 voiceless as the deathlike silence of the moon- 
 light night that surrounded them. 
 
 " Hinango and my husband are foes," con- 
 tinued she, at length, " without ever being angry 
 or quarrelling There is an enmity of natures 
 that requires no quarrelling. They speak to 
 each other when they meet. Neither speaks ill 
 of the other ; and Hinango," added she, in a 
 wifelike tone, " Hinango could find no cause to 
 speak ill of Senhor Clostlng." 
 
 " You were about to speak of the effect of the 
 Elegy," interrupted Robert, who had taken a 
 seat by her and seized her hand, which ho now" 
 dropped, while his youthful forehead was suf- 
 fused by a gloomy shadow. Another long pauso 
 ensued. The minds of both were long ago so 
 deeply entwined together, that each suspected, 
 felt, and shared the other's lightest emotion 
 without words — almost without a glance. 
 
 Gracia understood Robert's movement. Th* 
 harmony with which she would have offered her 
 greeting to the spirit, (which in a manner lived 
 in tlie unknown poetess and in Hinango,) wa« 
 disturbed by the involuntary mention of a man 
 who, estranged from this spiritual region, be- 
 longed nowhere less than there ; while the samtt 
 man had, nevertheless, become " a part of her 
 own being." This tragical reality appeared one* 
 more to reveal itself to her ; she seemed to feel 
 that she was banished from those regions, ia 
 being featened upon earth to a corpse.
 
 174 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 The chain which, as it were, fettered her like a 
 female Prometheus to the rock of matter, pressed 
 upon her more injuriously than ever before. Her 
 glance sought the eyes of Robert, and her bitter 
 anguish found utterance without words. 
 
 " I wished" she said, after a long silence, " to 
 request you, dear Robert, to convey my soulfelt 
 greetings to the poetess of this Elegy, and to her 
 
 and your friend Hinango, and 1 am suddenly 
 
 armised to the tragical consciousness of the ne- 
 cessity that removes me spiritually, as well as 
 socially, from you all," She sank into reflec- 
 tion ; her eye was again troubled. 
 
 "If Hinango has hitherto suspected our friend- 
 ship, he has at least never by a syllable intima- 
 ted it," observed Robert. 
 
 Gracia sighed, and her glanfce again lingered 
 in his. 
 
 " Offer my greeting, nevertheless, to the 
 spirit," continued she, " that speaks in this 
 Elegy, and in which both live — your sister and 
 Hinango ; say to them, that I perceive this spirit, 
 though I cannot yet comprehend it ; say to them, 
 that your friendship to me, my unrestrained 
 intercourse with you, has unlocked the suscep- 
 tibilities of my mind, to perceive this spirit of 
 sacrifice for the love of fatherland — which I 
 shall comprehend more and more — through 
 your love. But do not tell them the last. I re- 
 cognise those two beings, your sister and Hi- 
 nango, as spiritual appearances from a higher 
 sphere ; and therefore I talk to them through 
 you, as unrestrainedly, as confidentially, as 
 freely, as though they did not live on earth, .'^nd 
 that is just the effect that similar works, in verse 
 
 or prose, have upon us they lead us off 
 
 from our world of cl.iy, from the bonds and fet- 
 ters which bind us to this earth — bear us upward 
 for the moment into the region of the soul's life, 
 where spirit greets spirit." 
 
 She seemed again lost in reflection, and with 
 the peculiar rapidity with which the ebullitions 
 of her nerve-life, so to speak, vibrated from 
 one pole to the other, she changed also her tone, 
 the expression of her glance, and her whole na- 
 ture, without in the least degree losing her ami- 
 ability. 
 
 " But I will not have your sister to he a living 
 person ; I want her to be a book, as handsomely 
 bound as the case may be — something like the 
 edition there of Thomas Moore's Irish Melodies, 
 in velvet, with gold spangles, and with admirably 
 spiritual contents, but not living! There must 
 be no woman that writes upon the selfsame paper 
 that you use ; I will not suffer such paper fel- 
 lowship ! 1 will not have her write any more 
 on your paper, or you in short, upon hers ! my 
 nerves could not endure it ! 1 should know it 
 heje on the Gloria, if she scribbled on your paper 
 in Bota Fogo. When she touched the paper there, 
 it thrilled through all my nerves ; this effect 
 heightened the impression of the poem. Yes, 
 laugh at me — it is simple truth ! All your sto- 
 ries about your ' sister' do you no good — and if 
 the poem were not adressed to Hinango, as 1 
 knew immediately — you might look out for 
 yourself! I would throw the elegantly bound 
 book into the bay ! drown it ! Yes ! don't look 
 at me ! you don't know me yet ! When I touch 
 this paper, I tremble in every limb ! Don't laugh 
 at me ! I will not know how handsomely the 
 book is bound i" 
 
 " Have I ever yet asked you how that book is 
 bound, in which you have read during four 
 years, and whose contents appear, nevertheless, 
 to be unknown to you?" inquired Robert, with 
 a significant glance. '* .\nd you appear to be 
 unable to endure the " thought," the realizatiou 
 of which I must now sufier with respect to 
 you ? 
 
 After a long silence, he arose, and began in a 
 decided tone: ** 1 stand in business with Sen- 
 hor Forro and Mr. Closting; I am obliged to 
 see Mr. Closting immediately when he arrives — • 
 so soon as he arrives Our business is of im- 
 portance, it concerns a colony on Santa Catha- 
 
 rina. And I am going there soon very 
 
 soon ." 
 
 •' Oh no, Robert ! stay here ! — stay here !" in- 
 terrupted slie ; " stay for my sake ! who 
 
 knows what the future what may happen .'" — 
 
 *' Good heavens! Gracia! what contradiction 
 in you and in me !" exclaimed Robert ; " it 
 does not require your fearful request to keep me 
 
 here ! — I am fettered her ^- I cannot go aw»y 
 
 — and, nevertheless, it would be better that I 
 should, even this very night — this night — depart 
 it were better ." 
 
 " It is the reverse, Robert," sighed Gracia, 
 I am fettered hy you, that I feel." 
 
 " Be it action or reaction," returned Robert, 
 " our misfortune is ever the same. T!ie soul 
 rapport exists — only the difference prevails, that 
 in you it will soon be interrupted — while in me 
 it will still exsist. My life will be, from hence- 
 forth, a martydom, that knows no expression. — 
 But I shall be able to die without the fear of 
 hell ! for I am already undergoing a hell upon 
 earth." 
 
 " Horrible !" sighed Gracia ! " horrible ! 1 
 understand you !" 
 
 " You will yet understand me better, by read- 
 ing some biographical and psychological frag- 
 ments from the domain of Magnetism. I have 
 in my possession, some documents from Goa, 
 which disclose a singular, but consistent system, 
 concerning the relations of tiie inw..rd life, of 
 the soul's life, to physical nature. Dr. Thorfin 
 has handed it to me, to translate from Spanish 
 into English. I have it here. Read it to-mor- 
 row at leisure. I shall, besides, not be at home 
 to dinner to-morrow." 
 
 He arose, went to his desk, and handed an 
 envelope to his friend 
 
 " You will not be here to-morrow .'" 
 
 " No, Gracia ; I am invited to a betrothal. 
 My aunt declares her betrothal to the Baron de 
 Spandau." 
 
 Gracia sank back in her armchair, not know- 
 ing whether she should hiugh aloud, or continue 
 in the terror that seized her. " No ! you jest i" 
 cried she at length. " You are in good spirits, 
 and that delights me, Robert." 
 
 " It is no jest ! it is simple, infamous truth. 
 The man has known how to avail himself of his 
 social position here in Rio, to make my not very 
 young auntcR.izY. She declares her betrothal, 
 but, before he marries her, I will, it is to be 
 hoped, have a word to say to Uncle George." 
 
 " Good heavens ! and can you not now exert 
 yourself to prevent the betrothal ?" 
 
 " No ! I am fettered — bound by circumstances. 
 The baron is a spy, a hireling of Prussia, and in 
 the pay of Kosas j and has here the lives of soms
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 STB 
 
 ptTsnns III his hand — for whom I Could sacrifice 
 »ny life." 
 
 " fireat God !" sighed Gracia, rising and seiz- 
 ing Robert's hnnd ; " and he was so intimate 
 with— with Mr. Closting !" 
 
 " Thnt is easily e^phiined," returned Robert, 
 briefly ond abruptly. " Now, one more question, 
 for it is l.ite, and we mi;-:t part for to-day, "Lay 
 your haufl upon your iieart, and answer me be- 
 fore God, Gracia: whom do you lovef iVIr. 
 Clnstir))5 or me? Answer me as for life and 
 death !" 
 
 " Do you still ask .'" replied Gracia, in tones 
 that conveved the answer. '* Can you still 
 doubt ?" 
 
 " I require a decided answer." 
 
 " Hare I not then assured you often enough, 
 I never have loved him! — never! He never 
 possessed my heart— never. I love you, as per- 
 haps no woman ever loved a man. So may tlie 
 Lord judge and condemn me, if you still doubt 
 my love!" cried she, with a tremulous voice. 
 
 " I must and will doubt it, so long as you are 
 his wife." 
 
 Gracia sank back in her armchair. Robert 
 walked back and t'orth in the room. 
 
 "Forgive me, as I forgive you," began he, 
 after a long pause, as he went up to her and 
 took her hand. " You have been ill, and are 
 ill, and ought to have known yourself as a 
 woman. You are not the first, and will not be 
 the last woman v,'ho has destroyed, or will des- 
 troy, the life of a man— guiltlessly — innocently — 
 without being aware of it, or desiring it. 
 
 " You did not know what you were doing 
 four or five years ago. that your sex would 
 once learn to know itself, and to value itself; 
 that no woman would fasten such a bond, in 
 which, as you have just expressed it, "she 
 (jives herself, and retains her heart." There 
 lies your crime ; and yet you have committed 
 none ! you are pure before yourself, and before 
 God ; and, as to myself, I must enter a now hell 
 upon earth, after having enjoyed heaven in the 
 dream of our love — i.T the belief of your love, 
 
 '' My strength yet to live upon earth, 1 must 
 receive from above. You will now destroy 
 rather than confirm it. Now go to rest, for it is 
 late !" He imprinted a kiss on her forehead, 
 and pressed her hand. 
 
 Gracia arose and lingered for a moment, sigh- 
 ing: "You are a noble man, Robert. Good 
 night ! but never repeat the question of your 
 doubt. God knows my heart. Good night !" 
 
 Robert accompanied her to her door, and re- 
 turned with slow steps to his pavilion, sought 
 slumber, and only found torturing dreams, of 
 murder near, and murder in the distance, and 
 he longed for death. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MAGNETISM. 
 
 The fragmentary leaves which Dolores re- 
 ceived from Goa, through Senhor Vera, and 
 communicated to her friends, were the follow- 
 ing, " Manuscripts from Goa ■" 
 
 I. ELEMENT OF MAGNETISM.* 
 
 1. Man is a spiritual being: soul. Our body 
 is the instrument, the covering of our being; to 
 connect it with matter, the world of senses. 
 
 2. The magnetic fluid in our nerves is th« 
 organ of the soul, the instrument of the will for 
 the movement of the body, (matter.) Every 
 movement of any part of our body takes place by 
 means of the nerves ; every nervous fiiJre is an 
 orgaji of the will. 
 
 3. The term animal magnetism arises from 
 misunderstanding. In order to express myself 
 clearly in this communication of my researches 
 in the department of magnetism, I will employ 
 the word animatic magnetism, (from anima, 
 soul-,t) in opposition to the term " animal." 
 
 4. There is but one power, the animatic. 
 Physical power is an erroneous expression. Mat- 
 ter has n-.i jiower when not in motion ; unexerted 
 power is not power; motion is animatic. 
 
 5. All life is animatic, and appears to us in 
 its different gradations, in all the departments of 
 nature, as animatic power : the principle of life, 
 of motion. 
 
 6. The Nerve system in our body is opposed 
 to the Blood system. The nerve fluid embrace* 
 life. Blood is the material opposite to the neces- 
 sity o:' motion. 
 
 7. For what purpose is iron in our blood i 
 Physiology has heretofore given vague and un- 
 satisfactory answers to this question. J 
 
 Why do we hang iron to a magnet .' That ths 
 magnetic power may continue in motion. Iron 
 is the anti-magnetic principle ; it draws the mag- 
 netic power to itself, and in itself, as a spong* 
 does water, and sends it ofi' again, in a radiating 
 motion. 
 
 8. Iron in the blood is the unconditionally 
 necessary antithesis to the motion of animatic 
 power : the condition of life. Without iron ia 
 the blood the animatic power would depart from 
 us, be lost, escape, as the magnet dies away 
 withoiit iron, (its antithesis.) 
 
 y. The motion of all animatic power is radia- 
 ting. The motion of all matter circular, (rotary.) 
 The magnetic fluid, the magnetic light, (invisible 
 to the eye beyond the magnetic sphere,) is radia- 
 ting in its operation. Electricity is radiating in 
 its operations ; also the light of the spheres. 
 
 The thought, (the rays of spirit,) like the time- 
 less motion of the electro-magnetic element, ra- 
 diates to the most distant space, nearly without 
 time. The stars move in a circle, (like all masses 
 of matter) and the blood circulates within us, 
 as the antithesis to the radiating motion of ani- 
 matic life. 
 
 lU. The twofold motion : the ray and the cir- 
 cle, is the inscrutable secret (but also the condi- 
 tion) of life. The whole universe reveals thi^ 
 twofold motion. 
 
 11. Man is a spiritual and not a material being. 
 
 12. The entire creation is a formation of th« 
 spirit — not a self-moving material world. 
 
 * The author of Dolores herewith delivers to tht 
 foriim of science a theory, a system, founded upon a hjr* 
 pothesis, the tenability or intcnabiiity of which, caa 
 only be determined in the department of science. 
 
 t This expression has been applied already in Dolortifl, 
 pages 144 and 164. 
 
 t Scolastic learning thus answers this question * iron 
 gives to blood its red color. But this is no answer at all, 
 Iqi the blood might as well be blue.
 
 178 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 13. Which first commences : our body or onr 
 Mfe ? (the form of existence or our existence as 
 wul ?) 
 
 Life first commences in its everlastinp;, myste- 
 rious moment of creative power. The conscious- 
 ness of the earthly existence of two beings dis- 
 srppears in that moment in a more elevated life, 
 from whose source our life proceeds, as if it were 
 Brought down, as a soul. 
 
 14. After life has originated, the animatic 
 creative power first develops and forms the body 
 — originally an organization of nen'es, compar- 
 able to a tube, to a flower stalk, whose blossom 
 h the brain, and whose root, the later organ of 
 generation, connects life with the world of the 
 ■enses. Physiologists understand me, 
 
 1.5. After the commencement of life, rn such 
 » formation, the heart first deveiopes itself, 
 and takes its shape, as the centre of the circula- 
 tion of the blood, tor the preservation of life. 
 
 16. The animatic power of the nerve fluid 
 represents the soul, the spiritual, original being 
 of man. The blood represents matter, (the form 
 of being,) the means of connexion with the cor- 
 poreal world. 
 
 17. According to the principles of phrenology, 
 man's nervous organs are developed in propor- 
 tion as they are brought into action and e?*er- 
 cise, as the natural condition of power in its 
 movement: the spiritual life is also thus de- 
 Teloped in the nerve organizition, in propor- 
 tion as it is exerted and brought into action, 
 according as the soul (as a power) exercises its 
 abilities in thinking, perception, feeling, etc. 
 
 1.'^. As phrenology goes hand in hand with 
 physiognomy, both rest upon the basis of the 
 superior Psychology, and this science is in its 
 infancy. It embraces many other branches, and 
 its object is J\fan as a spiritual being, as soul, 
 in his position and relations to the corporeal 
 world, to himself and to mankind. 
 
 19. All human diseases can be divided into 
 Iwo categories : in animatic and animal diseases. 
 
 20, Animatic diseases are those in which the 
 Berve organization is affected in disproportion to 
 the world of senses ; those are the mora! sufl'er- 
 ings. They are founded in the inner (soul) life, 
 ftiid can only be treated or cured by remedies 
 derived from the higher psyeiiology. 
 
 21. Animal diseases are those which have 
 their origin in the injury, disturbance, or in the 
 disproportion of individual organs of the bodv, 
 (as the form or covering of the soul,) and indi- 
 rectly bring about disoiilers of the nerve or- 
 
 .ganization, (as far as they are executive instru- 
 ments of the spiritual power, instrimients of 
 the soul,) without being based upon moral suffer- 
 ings. 
 
 22. The science of medicine is not conceivable 
 without psychology, as it is of the first and most 
 unconditional necessity to know the disease, to 
 Bee through its nature or existence, before ap- 
 plying any remedy to cure it, 
 
 23, PsycholO(;y in its higher branches, is the 
 philosophy of medicine. It is an all-embracing 
 department — an inexhaustible study in itself, 
 inasmuch as it embraces its object, the being of 
 Man, in all his relations to the corporeal world ; 
 anfuthomabte in its basis, immcasureable in its 
 extent 
 
 24, Animatic magnetism is the element of the 
 inward life, separated from the corporeal world: 
 
 the movement of animatic power in its pfoptt 
 
 sphere, elevated above time and space, 
 
 2.5. Animatic magnetism (as a science) is the 
 acknowledged thesis of the higher psychology 
 at the gate of the spiritual temple of humanity i 
 It authenticates the existence of animatic ele- 
 ment and of the spiritual radiating motion in itj 
 proi>er sphere. It is not an object of faith, buC 
 a fact of reality, of experience — an object of 
 knowledge. 
 
 21':. The animatic life in iKan, (as a develop' 
 ment to spiritual power.) is subjected to infinite 
 variety in every individual, in a particular grada- 
 tion ; like the shapes of life in general, in their 
 endless variety of form, in all the departments 
 of natore. 
 
 27. As seldom as two leaves can be found oi> 
 the same tree, which are perfectly alike in their 
 fibroi»9 formation, st) seldom can two men be 
 fourid in whom animatic lite is developed in ar> 
 e-xactly equal degree. But as there are classes 
 (^categories) in the pro7ince of every science, su 
 also in the higher psychology — in magnetism. 
 
 The magnetic or animatic nature of man, falls 
 into four categories, which may be designated 
 from the four elements, as the fire, air, wafer, 
 aiMl earth, magnetic natures, which find their 
 relationship in the four temperaments. 
 
 25. In the fire and air magnetic natures, the 
 element of animatic life is predominant, insomuch 
 as it overcomes the antitliesis of the iron parti- 
 cle* of the bloftd, wjiich, irotwithstarwiing, c-.m 
 be relatively strong, (like the quantity of iron 
 which this or that magnet beai-s for the preser- 
 vation of its own power.) 
 
 29. In the water and earth magnetic natures, 
 the iron element in the blood governs the ani- 
 matic (nerve) life; the animal nature is pre- 
 dominant, the inward life in its thonsami gtM- 
 dations, more or less kept under. These two 
 degrees are related to the sanguinary and phleg- 
 matic temperaments, 
 
 30, The fire and air magnetic natures, predo- 
 minate in choleric and melancholy tempera- 
 ments, yet under the condition of individu.ilily. 
 A fire and air magnetic natm'e may be chttleric 
 and melancholy, but it by no means follows that 
 the element of animatic life is always predomi- 
 nant in choleric or melancholy men, 
 
 31. lietween the twocategories of theanimatic 
 and animal natures, lies the equator of magnetic 
 susceptibility, of the faculty of somnambulism* 
 magnetic clairvoyance. Only the animatic (fire 
 and earth magnetic) natures are capable oi 
 clairvoyance, and, on the other hand, of magnetic 
 influence on others. Wafer and earth magnetic 
 natures cannot produce any magnetic efiect upon 
 others ; nor can they enter the spheres of clair- 
 voyance in case they should be put into a mag- 
 netic sleep (by a proportionately strong magnetic 
 influence from without.) 
 
 32. All convulsive appearances, as the effect 
 of the approach of certain individuals to som- 
 nambulists, (or clairvoyants in their magnetie 
 sleep,) are to be explained by the above men- 
 tioned contrasts of the magnetic classes. The 
 earth and wafer magnetic natures produce con- 
 vulsions in somnambulists by their approach — • 
 as does iron when brought near them. 
 
 33. On the contrary, a lock of hair from a fir» 
 and air magnetic individual, when laid below the 
 pit of the heart (upon the centre of the plexu*
 
 DOLORES 
 
 ♦«eJiacns) of a somnambulisl, produces a direct 
 magnetic rapport, and a beneficial influence." 
 
 34. The property of Rhabdomancy — the ef- 
 fect of concealed iron upon certain men, is just 
 as naturally to be explained by tile above princi- 
 ple, as the re|>ulsion of the anli-magnetic ele- 
 ment upon the animation, 
 
 3-5. As this repulsion and attraction appears 
 undeniable and decidedly in tiie state of mag- 
 netic sleep, the same repulsion and attraction of 
 animatic and animal (maf^netic and anti-mag- 
 netic) naturesf also exist in the external " every 
 4iay life,'' witliout men beins? conscious of it, and 
 sometimes present themselves in remarkable 
 cases of sickness. 
 
 36. It would be a sini^ular prejudice or mis- 
 understanding which would assert that magnetic 
 natures are in themselves cases of disease, and 
 that a fire, or air magnetic (nervous) man is 
 ** disordered in his nerves." 
 
 it could just as well be asserted that a noble 
 man is diseased, because in him the organ of hu- 
 manity, of benevfdence — and that a musician is 
 diseased, because in him the organ of music, has 
 been especially developed. 
 
 37. A man carefully educated, physically and 
 morally, according to the demands of nature and 
 reason, without eii'eminacy on the one side, and 
 without brutalization on the other, will sooner 
 become nervous than animals — without respect 
 to the degree of his intellectual cultivation. 
 
 38. Experience shows, in a thousand cases, 
 that men whose nervous system is cushioned over 
 with more than the necessary quantity of matter, 
 (which cannot pass for nervous,) are subjected 
 to a multitude of diseases, which ai'ise frtim ex- 
 cessive fullness, and the corruption of the ani- 
 mal juices. On the contrary so called nervous 
 men (in whom animatic life is predominant) who 
 lead a rational manner of life, with a natural 
 repulsion for every injurious substance,! are often 
 patterns of health. 
 
 3y. Physical and moral influences upon the 
 development of man, induce and form either his 
 animatic or animal nature — apart from his in- 
 tellectual dejection. Experience ofters cases of 
 prominent degrees of fire magnetic natures in a 
 very subordinate state of intellectual cultivation, 
 as well in gomnambuiists, as in men who (with- 
 out a scientilic education) can operate as mag- 
 DetiKers. 
 
 40. Animatic (inward) life, is an element 
 without the material world. Experience shows 
 that men who from childhood have been subject 
 to severe diseiises, have oiten cultivated^ their 
 inward life, their minds, to a high degree. 
 
 * The author of these fragments has expei-ienced the 
 most singular etiects from the rnpporl of a fire magnetic 
 Daturewith aeomoambulist in llie highest crisis of clair- 
 voyance, and in this communication generally, he only 
 moves in the jirovince of science an J personal experience. 
 
 t See '5 23, -29. 
 
 I This natural repulsion of healthy (ner\-ous) men. is 
 fhown to a remarkable degree in the dislike to all strong 
 drinks and spices, which collectively operate injurious. 
 ly upon the nerves, and many of thera prejudicially 
 upon the bloo,l. The English feed and ])oison their 
 children from the cradle with outrageous doses of opium, 
 pepper, Stc, and thus bring about an overfuUness of the 
 blood, antl a diseased state of the nervous organization, 
 whi.-h are manifested in the deadening of tlie inward 
 life, and in the blunting of the intellect, and promote 
 that dullness which charactorizes phlegmatic indivi 
 duality. 
 
 ^A string proof of tbia is aflbrdedby the author of this 
 
 41. The term " souI-auRerings" is frequently 
 
 understood erroneously, as disorders of the nerv« 
 organization are frequently confounded with soul- 
 sufleruigs. 
 
 .\ll our soul-sufferings are trials of our moral 
 power, for its development, for our ennoblement, 
 and the more deeply we feel soul-sufTerings, th« 
 more susceptible are we also to receive in us the 
 ray of the higher idea of being, to nourish in UH 
 the glow of sincere love. 
 
 We have here again the contrast of phlegmatic 
 lifelessness and of sanguine levity. The first 
 knows nothing of soul-sufferings ; the latter 
 passes lightly liy tliem, enjoys earthly existence, 
 and ** cares lor nothing." 
 
 4'2. While tlie earth and water magnetic na- 
 tures find parallels in phlegmatic and sanguine 
 temperaineiUs, (with a suppression of the feel- 
 ings, and an inclination to sensuality,) the fire 
 and air magnetic natures afford parallels with 
 men in whom the soul (the higher or deeper in- 
 ward life) is predominantly developed. 
 
 43. The choleric temperament is manifest is 
 the violent ebullition of feeling at the least in- 
 jury of inward self-consciousness; it can easily 
 be mistaken for sanguine passionatene.ss, which, 
 as an opposite principle, is foreign to the animatic 
 element. 
 
 44. The deeper soul-life is manifested in the 
 melancholy temperament, (in the gloomy coiir 
 templation of the night of earth, whose occur- 
 rences, impressions, and contacts, often in rigid 
 material contradiction to the conditions and de- 
 mands of itself,) surrounded by forms of external 
 life as if with a black mourning veil; this tem- 
 perament, also, can very easily be misaken for 
 inanimation of the inward life — for absolute 
 phlegm. Many a phlegmatic man appears me- 
 lancholy, while his deadened, slumbering soul 
 feels nothing, and his sleeping or lifeless spirit 
 has arrived to neither a gloor.iy nor a cheerful 
 view of life. 
 
 4.5. P'ire and air magnetic natures, more or 
 less related to these temperaments, feel, in pro- 
 portion to their animatic life, mutual attraction 
 towards each other, and repulsion towards oppo- 
 site natures. 
 
 4G. Animatic (nerve) life, and spiritual (ia- 
 ward) life are certainly two distinct conceptions, 
 but the last stands so much the higher, in pro- 
 portion as the first is developed. Spiritual (in- 
 ward) life in the absolute phlegm of an earth- 
 magnetic individual, would be a contradiction 
 itself — an impossibility. 
 
 47. Aiiiinatic (nerve) life in a man, as well a3_ 
 the spiritual life, can be heightened, decreased, 
 and gradually entirely lost by internal and exter- 
 nal impressions. We are acquainted with men, 
 who, anitnatic in their youth, were not with- 
 out soul, and who, having gradually become 
 phlegmatic and soulless, the reverse of what 
 they were, went down as earth magnetic natures, 
 in materialism. Opposed to these, we also find 
 
 novel, in himself. Sickly and miserable from his cradle, 
 with a coustaut affection of the breast and of bemorragCi 
 and in danger of consumption, the right side of liis body 
 became totally paralyzed in his nigUth year. This last 
 ed two years. He was cured by magnetism. Neverthe- 
 less, mind and soul were developed in the boy. lie wroto 
 his first poem with his left hand, the right licing par* 
 lyied. (see " Uarro-Harring, a liiograpkical sketch Of 
 Alexander H. Everett.")
 
 «78 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 men in whom animatic life was first developed 
 when an exalted sentiment or a divine idea in 
 some form took posses-^ion of tliem, and in a 
 measure raised their souls above the mass of 
 matter. 
 
 II. SUPERIOn PSYCH01.0UV. 
 
 ■ 48. Man as a spiritual being (soul) is a unity. 
 The body is but our covering, our instrument, 
 and without soul would have neither strength 
 nor life, and consequently no existence. 
 
 49. Dualism rests upon error. There is but 
 one power — and what appears to us as oppo3ing, 
 power is only matter itself, the development and 
 cultivation of which is the task of animatic 
 power — the principle of life — life itself 
 
 50. Creation is an imbodiment, an incorpora- 
 tion of the original idea of Deity, who, as the pri- 
 mitive spirit, created life, which, as a working 
 (animatic) power, forms and shapes matter. 
 
 51. All life, all being, (existence,) proceeds 
 from the primitive source of spirit, the source of 
 strength, of li^ht, of love, as an eternal myste- 
 ry — impenetrable to liuman research. 
 
 52. As our body is related to the soal, the 
 mass of matter of the universe is related to the 
 soul of the universe — to animatic power — which, 
 as life, flowed from the source of spirit. 
 
 5.3. As our soul is related to spirit, (reason in 
 its higher power,) so is the soul of the world (tlie 
 animatic power in creation) related to the pri- 
 mitive spirit — to Deity. 
 
 51. In men animatic power reveals itself as 
 the organ of the soul — which proceeds from the 
 source of spirit, provided with the self-con- 
 sciousness of spirit (reason) and the presenti- 
 ment of the divine original idea of being, as soul, 
 in the principle of faith, of love. 
 . 55. Spirit, Soul, and Body, are consequently 
 three distinct conceptions in the unity of lile. 
 
 5C. Tlie soul is the unity of our being, from 
 which the spirit is developed as the higher 
 power of reason, and strives upwards to its 
 source by attraction. 
 
 57. Feeling, Will, Understanding, and Spirit 
 are the four elements of our human existence, 
 which, if they were all equally cultivated, could 
 show man as God created him, "in bis own 
 image." 
 
 58. There is no evil principle. The evil does 
 not lie in man, much less any where else in na- 
 ture, but in the regulations of men, in human 
 society, which nourishes and strengthens egotism 
 and ignorance, from which the evil proceeds. 
 
 • 59. The unity of our being lies in the con- 
 sciousness of our power of will, and manifests 
 itself as moral freedom. No power in heaven 
 nor in earth can bend or destroy the mental 
 power of will, for it is the consciousness of our 
 divine nature itself 
 
 60. Millions of men live along in a state of 
 animalism, as neither their feeling, nor their will, 
 nor their understanding, nor their spirit, have 
 been cultivated, and yet they pass for " reasonable 
 men." They are not men, much less reasonable 
 ones. 
 
 Ct. Mankind can as little make demands upon 
 tliose creatures as men, as the social world in 
 which they move makes a demand on their feel- 
 ing, on their will, on their understanding, or on 
 their spirit. The social world only urges its 
 claims on man's egotism. 
 
 62. Materialism denies the soul. AccorJimf 
 to its rules, man is *' a digesting and propagating 
 machine, endowed with instinct, bv which he 
 moves, on the urgency of necessity, to preserve 
 his life and to enjoy sensuality." Sucli is the 
 man of materialism — the materialist himself— 
 *' in his own image." 
 
 fi,3. Although m.in, as a soul, is boni with all 
 the faculties of feeling, of will, of understand- 
 ing, and of spirit, and is left to his development 
 as a man by education, there is, nevertheless, an 
 endless variety in his individuality, in his very 
 origin. 
 
 M. LOVIi(wtthoot which no man .shonld re- 
 ceive his life, unless he supports his existence in 
 consequence of a crime against nature) is a Mag- 
 netic Rapport without the sphere of magnetic 
 clairvoyance. 
 
 66. Love, as attraction of soul, cannot take 
 place without development of inward life, and 
 consequently not without a precUiminance of ani- 
 matic (nerve) life. An animal nature feels the 
 instinct of propagation, (sensuality,) but not love. 
 
 fi(>. As violent as is the repulsion of an anima- 
 tic being in tjie magnetic sleep, on the approach 
 of an animal individuality,* JTist as decided isthe 
 repulsionf of an animatic (fire or air magnetic) 
 female against an animal (earth and water m;<g- 
 netic) man, so soon as she is conscious of her 
 existence as a soul, or vice versa. 
 
 67. This awaking to a consciousness of the 
 animatic nature can take place from internil and 
 external influences, as the effect of a pure love, 
 and as a natural result of excc-s.-iive sensuality 
 and destructive contact with an opposite animal 
 nature — often in consequence of both causes at 
 the same time. In both rases, a diseased state 
 of the nerve organization ensues, for which the 
 healing art has hitherto ajiplied iron as a pallia- 
 tive remedy. 
 
 68. In the case of physical disease, disturb- 
 ance of the nerve lite from "unfortunate love,'* 
 a union with the beloved l>eing would be the 
 first and only condition of cure. If this union 
 does not take place, and the longing of love 
 (founded in the inward life itself) is powerfully 
 suppressed frT:)m external inlluences, a moment- 
 ary physical recovery can only be effected at 
 the expense of the inward life and of morality, 
 with paralyzation and deadening of the animatic 
 power, under the predominance of the animal 
 nature — of sensual i ty. 
 
 69. .Should the unfortunate love, braving all 
 external circumstances, connect itself with the 
 inward life as unity of feeling, animatic power 
 would remain predominant, and no remedy 
 could restore the equilibrium of the nerve fluid 
 and of the iron particles in the blood. 
 
 Patients of this class manifest a decided dis- 
 inclination for sensnal enjoyment, a ma.stery ovef 
 the animal nature, repulsion ol physical contact 
 
 70. The application of iron as a known pal 
 liative remedy for the before mentioned nervous 
 diseases, when they j^roceed fr^nn excessive sen- 
 suality, is a confirmation of my theory, as re- 
 gards the object of iron in the blood. 
 
 ♦ This repulsion, wliicli is manifested l»y convulsions, 
 very simply lies in tl)e superabundonce of iron in ttia 
 blood, in ttie heterogenous nature. See ^ 2d, ^9. 
 
 t Tlie repulsion seems to have lieen acknow leri^od by 
 the Icf^islation of the ancients, in the odiuia imincibiU^ 
 03 a legal ground ibr divorce.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 879 
 
 71 Tlie science of medicine has rcco;;nised 
 iron as a " stren;j:tliening" remedy, without ac- 
 counting to itself liow it operated, and from 
 what cause. It considered as a remedy that 
 which is only a dangerous stimulant, and should 
 never be applied, or at least only with great 
 caution, ahv;iys with psychological insight into 
 the nature of the disese, and tl)e individuality of 
 the sufierers. In tlie application of iron, the 
 science of medicine seemed to follow (without 
 l^erhaps knowing it) the homoeopatliic principle, 
 for it uses the same element as a remedy which, 
 as an anti-magnetic element, (as a superabun- 
 dance of iron m the strange individuality of an 
 earth or water magnetic nature,) brought about 
 the derangement of the nerve organization by 
 physical contact, by influence from without upon 
 the fire or air magnetic being. 
 
 72. Iron applied as a so called remedy in hys- 
 terical diseases, can only operate as a palliative 
 when the disease proceeds from physical causes, 
 from derangements of ceitain organs by the ex- 
 cessive enjoyment of sensuality and of propaga- 
 tion — weakness and prostration of the animal 
 nature — but never when it proceeds from the 
 inward life, as a retroaction upon the animatic 
 life. In tlic last case it produces, in proportion 
 to the dose, more or less convulsions— as iron 
 operates upon a somnambulist, in whose presence 
 it is brought. 
 
 73. As an external remedy, applied in baths, 
 it produces a momentary irritation, an ebullition 
 of sen.suality — sensual desire — and can tlins far 
 promote conception, but never restore the equi- 
 librium of animatic life. There follows after 
 the application of iron, as alter every stimu- 
 lant, an after prostration of tlie animal life, a 
 derangement and deadening of the animatic, and 
 indirectly of the inward life.* A hysteric pa- 
 tient, suflering from longing for love, (or in con- 
 sequence of unfortunate love,) momentarily ex- 
 cited to sensuality by iron, loses his animatic 
 (spiritual) strength in the same proportion as his 
 animal nature is elevated in sensuality. 
 
 74. We every day hear it asserted, that " the 
 most opposite characters produce the best and 
 happiest marriages." This is nonsense, and pro- 
 bably originated from a typographical error, as 
 it might read, instead of charactere ** tempera- 
 ments," and even then the assertion would not be 
 tenable. 
 
 The character of man, is the shaping of his 
 inward being under the thousand-fold influences 
 of education, of circumstances, of experience — 
 in short, ol all the impressions of life which form 
 the man, or destroy him ; it is his moral or im- 
 moral existence. 
 
 The temperament of man, is founded in the 
 physical relation of the nerve organization and 
 of the blood, and has a bearing upon liis charac- 
 ter, so far as the ditlerent elements, which em- 
 brace the temperament, receive in themselves 
 the diflerent colors in difli^rent reflections. 
 
 An animatic union of noble characters can 
 take place, upon an equal degree of develop- 
 ment, in opposite temperamenls — and opposed 
 
 ' We know cases ia which physicians orilered chaly. 
 oeiite uatlis to women sujfciing unJer distraction of the 
 nerve organization from animatic canses — unknown to 
 me ])liysicians. 'I'he effect oi" the hatha was a momen- 
 4ary disposilam to sensuality^ ana then total nervous aud 
 luornl desti uctioo. 
 
 to this, the greatest difference of temperament 
 can manifest one and the same ebullition of noble 
 passion, when the basis of the inner being of the 
 characters bears a spiritual relationship, 
 
 15. But, on the contrary, an isolation of any 
 one of the four temperaments is only imaginablj 
 in the phlegmatic — which characterizes the ab- 
 stract imagination of the inward life — so unsus- 
 ceptible to all imiiressions from without, as to 
 an admixture witli any one of the other tempe- 
 raments within. All the other temperaments 
 appear very seldom, " scarcely ever," isolated in 
 an individual, but more or less form that happy 
 equilibrium of the human character, the less this 
 or that temperamerit predominates. 
 
 m. P'ven admitting tlie typographical error 
 s])oken of, the above rule would not be tenable. 
 An obsolete ]>hlegm connected with its owa 
 element would only enjoy a so called " happy 
 marriage," which would indeed be subjected to 
 few disturbances from without, as both beinga 
 would vegetate along in material insensibility. 
 As striking as this picture may appear, every 
 observing psychologist will concede that it is to 
 be met with in the reality, in a tliousand resem- 
 blances, in all parts of the world : it is man in 
 the condition of animalism, projiagating his race 
 like an aniinal; it is the union of the earth mag- 
 netic natures of two beings in their own element. 
 
 77. It often remains dilhcult in the psycholo- 
 gical analysis of the temperament, to distinguish 
 correctly the inward being in the envelope of 
 the tem[»erainent ; for it often happens that the 
 greatest calm of soul and presence of mind, of » 
 so called sanguine or choleric man, is mistaken 
 for phlegm, as, on the other hand, this or that 
 action of a man is ascribed to his choleric or 
 sanguine temperament, when it proceeds from 
 abstract phlegm, from want of feeling, from 
 denial of soul, 
 
 7S. Every noble act or deed arises from the 
 feeling, the heart, (mind,) A bad act or deed 
 generally proceeds from insensibility or heart- 
 lessness, from a so called " hardened mind," 
 
 79. A pure, noble man can commit a great 
 crime when his moral freedom of will is over- 
 come by the ebullition of his feeling. On the 
 contrary, acts are done from moral freedom of 
 will, which, according to social regulations, ap- 
 pear as crimes.* 
 
 60. But no one will be disposed to place 
 similar crimes on a parallel with a coolly calcu- 
 lated bad act, or with a murder which proceed* 
 from the denial of feeling>.from a hardened heart, 
 as a tragical appearance of demoralization. 
 
 SI. As a muider may be committed from 
 ebullition of feeling, in a passion, (whilst it would 
 be ditlicult to deny the morality of the " crim- 
 inal,") social crimes may take place, which are 
 ascribed to sensuality, whilst just the opposite 
 element — animatic (inward) life, in its excited 
 preponderance — is the cause of such crimes. 
 
 82. Fire and air magnetic natures are lesa 
 sensual than earth and water magnetic natures, 
 li)r the iron in the blood (which rejiresents the 
 animal sensual natures} is kept in eciuilibrium, 
 or controlled by the magnetic fluid. 
 
 83. It is another great error, when even phy- 
 
 * That this pnragraph maj' be better understood, w* 
 add, for exoinples. Charlotte Corday, Lewis baud, AM 
 beaiLX, Tscbech, &c.
 
 2S0 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 licians consider many female nervous diseases 
 to be the effect of unsatisfied sensuality, whilst 
 they, are often jnst the reverse — the effects of 
 the unsatisfied demands of the soul — tlie effects 
 ,«f unreciprocated love. 
 
 84. A sensual (earth and water magnetic) in- 
 dividuality, with a low degree of animatic (in- 
 ward) lite, does not become affected by that ner- 
 vous derangement from longing for lore, which 
 is foreign to it. 
 
 8.J. Animal sensuality, and " enjoyment of the 
 senses," are distinct notions. The more animatic 
 life is developed, the purer is the enjoyment of 
 the senses in every respect, which embraces 
 whatever is beautiful and exalted in nature and 
 »rt, but has nothing in common with animal 
 «ensuality, with bestiality. 
 
 By tlie term " animal sensual nature" we un- 
 derstand predominant sensuality, with a greater 
 or less inanimation of the animatic life, of un- 
 ausceptibility for the more noble and spiritually 
 elevated. Every healthy man is capable of sen- . 
 •ual enjoyment; but, *' to the pure all things 
 are pure, and tlie noble ennobles every thing in ; 
 itself Men who know no higher enjoyment 
 than the sensual, are of animal natures, and their 
 individuality corresponds VTith the phlegmatic 
 and sanguine temperament — the earth and water ! 
 magnetic categories. ! 
 
 It is well known that the Turks are peculiarly 
 sensual. The phlegmatic sanguine tempera- 
 ment predominates in them ; their bodily fulness, 
 their prevailing, predominating animal life, sup- 
 press the animatic power, the development of 
 spiritu^il life. In accordance with tins, the 
 Turks manifest the attraction and repulsion of 
 the magnetic categories. The Turk likes female 
 corpulency; tlie terms /«< and beaulifiil are to 
 him synomymous, whilst a delicate form of body, 
 of nobler animatic nature, presents little attraction 
 for hiin. Opium destroys the animatic power, 
 and indirectly incre-ases the particles of iron in 
 the bh.od. 
 
 All hen-ting, stimulating spices operate in a 
 similar manner. Fish, (especially when salt- 
 ed,) and shell fish, as oystei-s for instance, pro- 
 .duce a sensual effect. Hence the numerous 
 propagation of the population on coasts abound- 
 ing in fi^li ; and likewise their phlegm is remark- 
 able. Half raw beef, and strong beer, likewise 
 effect a predominancy of animal nature, to the 
 suppression of animatic power. The blood of 
 some Turks, very superficially chemically ana- 
 lyzed, showed three, four, and five times the 
 quantity ol the iron particles to be founil in an 
 ordinary animatic individual. Science may pay 
 attention to these facts, and investigate them fur- 
 ther. 
 
 86. The animatic spiritual life is the " sixth 
 sense " of man, (the origin of which is the nerve 
 fluid. ^ and the union of souls by love can only 
 take pl.ice :n this element of animatic life. 
 
 ST. The love and reciprocated love of an ani- 
 matic to an animal being is as abstract impossi- 
 bility. What is called love, is in a thousand 
 cases sensuality, and repulsion arises when that 
 is satisfied : on theconfrary, however, a deceptive 
 attraction of an animal (anti-magnetic) nature 
 (from the predominance of iron in the blood) 
 can be imagined, which may stun and attr.ict an 
 animatic nature, as a mass of magnetless iron, 
 draws the weaker magnet to itself. By this 
 
 hypothesis alone, the innumerable matrimonia. 
 connexions of entirely different natures could be 
 exiilained, which were a riddle to sound reason, 
 inasmuch as it was inconceivable how a spiritual 
 being could be fettered to a more or less soulless 
 mass of matter. 
 
 SS. The above certainly strange hypothesis 
 finds in reality such thousand-fold supports of 
 experience, that it at least, like my hypothesis 
 concerning the object of iron in tlie blood, de- 
 serves the attention of psychologists. 
 
 S9. In a thousand cases of such unnatural 
 connexion?, the fettered animatic life becomes 
 gradually lost in animal existence; or it awakes 
 in nervous convulsions when unnaturally ovei- 
 powering, and degradation to the service of sen- 
 suality, of vulgar animal nature, deranges the 
 organization. 
 
 90. The hypothesis of the attraction of the 
 predominant iron in animal natures, finds iU 
 support in the want of consciousness of the ani- 
 matic nature, (of the inward life,) which (having 
 become a sacrifice to deception) fii-st awakes 
 when the effect of marriage without love has 
 destroyed the nerve organization — manifesting 
 the existence of the inward life as an unsatisfied 
 demand of love. 
 
 91. The development of the inward life and 
 of moral freedom through education, elevates 
 man more and more from an animal existence to 
 the consciousness of animatic life, which pre- 
 vents, by repulsion, the crime of an unnatural 
 union of two hostile natures. 
 
 H2. Enlightenment concerning the spiritual 
 nature and the higher destiny of man. and the 
 rational education of the rising generation, can 
 alleviate the misery of the social world — prevent 
 crimes, which the regulations of the world and 
 the animal degradation of man in the element ot 
 materialism have hitherto systematically pro- 
 moted, " under the protection of the laws." 
 
 93. The consciousness of animatic life is often 
 suppressed by the sexual instinct; love is con- 
 founded with'sensuality. But man was endowed 
 with moral strength, freedom of will, as a spirit- 
 ual being, to control the animal element within 
 him. No pretext of "convenience," of " rea- 
 sonable motives" or of circumstances, excuses 
 the intentional union of opposite elements; from 
 whose connexion proceed physical and moral 
 disturbance, social and criminal oflences. The 
 cause and reason of such appeaiances are conse- 
 quently not " the influence of Satan upon the evil 
 nature" of man ; they are founded in the unnatu- 
 ral regulations made by the social world, wliich 
 immediately promote those disturbances. 
 
 yi. The unnatural union of opposite natures, 
 in the sanctuary of generation, by animal de- 
 mands and resignation without love, is in a 
 measure " the sin against the holy spirit" of love 
 for it affects the " crime of crimes" — the life of 
 a future generation— -the lot of all mankind. 
 
 NOTE OF DR. ADLKB, JMEMBEfl OF THE 
 GEBM.\N SOCIETY OF PHYSICIANS AND N.VFU- 
 R.iUIST.-', AND PRACTISING PHYSICIAN IPI 
 NEW YORK. 
 
 Mr. Harro-Harring laid befoie me liis 
 I views "concerning the effect of iron in our
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 281 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GABRIEI. GARRINGOS. 
 
 Biographical Fragment — Manuscript from 
 Goa. 
 
 — " I PTTRSTJED the study of magnetism in the 
 years 1810-12, in MatU'id, where this science, at 
 that time placed in the same category with sor- 
 cery and witciicraft, laden with curse and ban 
 by church and state, was severely persecuted on 
 the part of the inquisition. 
 
 I had to thanic a casual acquaintance with a 
 French physician, for the perusal of some books 
 and pamplilets which appeared to have little 
 value for himself, since he, as he declared, only 
 carried them with him as curiosities. 
 
 Hardly had 1 entered the element of magnet- 
 ism as a branch of science, than I obtained en- 
 lightening information concerning my own in- 
 dividuality, and recognised the existence of ani- 
 matic force within me. 
 
 I magnetized without a magnet, by means oi 
 the glance and the fluid ctf the hand, and pro- 
 duced the most interesting and instructive etiects 
 upon nervously diseased, and upon healthy per- 
 sons, who, notwithstanding the threatened dan- 
 ger of falling under the power of the inquisition, 
 confided themselves to me. 
 
 blood," (manifestmg his restless mental exer- 
 tions,) for my examination and opinion, in a 
 general medicinal respect. 
 
 Believing that I have made myselfsufficiently 
 acquainted with the course of ideas, and the 
 style of the author, I ventue to express the con- 
 viction that the hypothesis established by him, 
 concerning the department of physiology, chem- 
 istry, pathology, therapeutics, is peculiar and 
 original, not borrowed from any medicinal school 
 of Europe, nor taken from any to me known doc- 
 trine belonging thereto, and that, on account of 
 its undeniable importance, it is worthy the con- 
 sideration of scientific investigation. 
 
 But as several premises upon which rest the 
 connexion of the whole, are liable to important 
 objections of science and experience, and as the 
 author's manner of treating the subject offers a 
 loose, not a strictly scientific connexion, (which 
 according to his intention could not be otherwise,) 
 I therefore feel called upon to give a statement 
 of the reasons and limitations, under and with 
 which 1 have adopted the author's views, and 
 given this opinion to publicity. 
 
 Although I do not always partake in his opin- 
 ion in regard to principles and deductions, my 
 objections may give occasion to scientific discus- 
 sion, and thus only heighten the interest for 
 the author's hypothesis. My so far complete 
 observations, concern the views § S, 67, 70, 71, 
 72, 73, 82, 83, 87, and 88, belonging to the main 
 question, § 7. As it did not appear to be in ac- 
 cordance with the purpose of a novel, nor the 
 plan of the author, to give my remarks here, I 
 will deliver them to the public in a separate 
 pamphlet. 
 
 F, G. Adler, M. D. 
 
 New York, Dec. 6, 1S45. 
 36 
 
 There was living at that time in Madrid, a 
 family of distinction from Buenos Ayres, who, on 
 being informed of my studies, sought my ac- 
 quaintance in a confidential manner. The only 
 
 daughter of this family, Senora Paola do C , 
 
 suff'ered from a liver complaint, which many 
 physicians, pronouncing her symptoms consump- 
 tive, had treated falsely. 
 
 After I had at the first glance satisfied myself of 
 the animatic (fire and air magnetic) tempera- 
 ment of the patient, I undertook the cure by 
 Mesmerism. The patient arrived by speedy 
 transition at the highest crisis then known to me, 
 that of '* clairvoyance with free motion." 
 
 After four operations by means of the hand 
 fluid, repeated at the same hour, (in the eve- 
 ing,) it became easy for me to produce magnetic 
 sleep by means of the glance fluid. She gave 
 me a clear jierception of her disease, while she, 
 like a soul, as it were, floating outside of the 
 body, beheld it transparent, and pointed out to 
 me the remedies which would cure the disturb- 
 ances occasioned by former false treatment, and 
 the disease itself, and which did, in fact, tho- 
 roughly cure them. 
 
 During the crisis of her somnambulism, her 
 spirit moved in a sphere of perception which 
 had until tlien been strange to myself, and whose 
 visions surprised to the utmost degree her pa- 
 rents, who were present every evening. 
 
 Those revelations attached me to this being by 
 indissoluble bonds of reverence. 
 
 This spiritual reverence, united with the at- 
 traction of kindred natures, and with animatic 
 reaction on her part upon me, awakened the 
 feeling of sympathy in me, which gave my life 
 the direction I have pursued since that time. 
 
 This accordance of animatic nature, formed a 
 bond of soul-union in the sphere of magnetism, 
 whicli soon evinced itself in a similar degree in 
 the life out of the state of somnambulism, al- 
 though this state was entirely unknown to the 
 sufferer (as to all other somnambulists) so soon 
 as she returned from it to the outward world. 
 
 I had learned, at the moment of my introduc- 
 tion to the family, that Senora Paola was be- 
 trothed for a " marriage of convention " — and 
 guided my deportment towards her according to 
 this discovery, so eventful to me. 
 
 Her powerful sympathy for me soon found ut- 
 terance in the crisis of her clairvoyance, to the 
 great terror of her parents, to whom 1 explained 
 the circumstance that a somnambule, when with- 
 out the magnetic sphere, is conscious of no phe- 
 nomena within that element, and remembers not 
 a single syllable, which she may have spoken in 
 magnetic sleep. 
 
 The parents soon satisfied themselves of the 
 truth of my information, and saw it confirmed 
 by the fact, that Seiiora Paola denied, in the 
 strongest manner, her sympathy for me, in con- 
 sequence of the will of her parents in relation 
 to her " destiny." 
 
 Paola's father had been sent in state affairs of 
 the South American colony to Madrid. His 
 position subjected him to the usual intrigues and 
 cabals of a cabinet, whose ministry endeavored 
 to render his whole mission abortive. 
 
 The somnambule once, in her state of spirit- 
 ual perception occupied herself with some sur- 
 prising particulars of the circumstances which 
 threatened the future prosperity and fate of her
 
 282 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 father — and gave information that placed it in 
 his power to disarm the intrigues of his oppo- 
 nents. This served to protect the interests of 
 the colony against the encroachments of despo- 
 tism, and Don A. de C at least attained this 
 
 obj.:?ct of his personal satisfaction. 
 
 Th.! riddle how he had been able to penetrate 
 into the deepest mysteries of his enenjies, and 
 to convict them (»f their contradictions, was in- 
 explicable to them. 
 
 The suspicion fell on me, and my life was 
 more tlian ever in danger. The rack and tor- 
 tures of tlie inquisition awaited me. 
 
 j'ut the same genius who had in the sphere of 
 Sjiiritual perception given us tliis information, 
 saw just as clearly my nearest, as well as my 
 most remote future. Paola recognised in her 
 visions the unavoidable necessity for our sepa- 
 ration on eaitli, and beheld just as clearly the 
 steps and measures of the enemy, whose per- 
 secution surrounded me with snares. 
 
 Tlie niotlier iiad,on pretence of a journey into 
 the country, taken a secret dwelling, in which 
 I observed the last crisis. My friend desired me 
 one evening, (it was the •24th of May, ISIU,) 
 not to go home as usual, but to pass the night 
 witli a Iriend, who had sought after me, and ex- 
 pected me. She saw my dwelling surrounded 
 by military. 
 
 I took leave of Paola, in her crisis of clairvoy- 
 ance. She returned to real life — and what she 
 had seen and said as a somnambule — remained 
 as strange and unknown to her as ever. 
 
 The friend to whom I was recommended by 
 the counsel of the somnambule, occupied a po- 
 sition in which he would not easily be suspect- 
 ed of sympathy with me. 1 remained carefully 
 concealed in Madrid, until they no longer sought 
 for me there. My flight was arranged and car- 
 ried out. I arrived at Cadiz, and thence on 
 board a vessel to Goa. 
 
 The magnetic rapport with my friend still con- 
 tinued. 
 
 For the first month she regularly fell, at the 
 same time, into a magnetic sleep, and awolce 
 just as regularly about midnight. During those 
 hours I found myself in a state (jf wakitig dreami- 
 ness, which 1 cannot here describe. 
 
 I could imagine what impression this still ex- 
 isting spiritual rapport, between Seiiora Paola 
 and niysi-lf, must produce upon her parents, and 
 struggled with myself, for life and death, to dis- 
 solve it — or looked tor the accomplishment of the 
 detcrniination which she nourislied in her som- 
 nambulism — of following me to Goa. 
 
 Whether or not this longing was as powerful 
 in lier waking state, as it manifested itself in the 
 crisis of her somnambulism, I learned notwith- 
 standing, at a later period, that she always, with 
 wonderful self-control, denied her sentiments. 
 1 had, at my sudden departure, strictly enjoined 
 it upon the parents not to call in an anti-mag- 
 netic physician, in case she (as I surmised) fell 
 of herself into magnetic slumber, and should 
 pcrhajjs experience convulsions and cramps. 
 This request and warning rested upon my pur- 
 pose, if possible to employ outward means of 
 dissolving a magnetic rapport, which had led to 
 a union of souls forbidden by convenience. 
 
 1 sought to break uj) this regularly recurrim^ 
 sleep, by external methods, I took chalybeate 
 tialhs — surrounded myself with iron. The con- 
 
 sequence was a violent disturbance of my nerve 
 
 organization, and severe convulsions in my som- 
 nambule, as 1 afterward learnt, since (without 
 her knowledge in the waking state) I corres- 
 ponded with her mother. 
 
 As 1 was with her in spirit, and perceived the 
 reaction of her convulsions by the employment 
 of such remedies, so did she as a spirit lloat 
 around me in my waking state, and from the 
 hour of our separation until this day — through 
 a quarter of a century — her essence has never 
 left me. It floats around me wherever 1 go or 
 stay. It has become a part of my being. It 
 lives in me, as 1 lived in her entity. 
 
 She appeared to me at that time in a waking 
 dream, and besought me not to torment her, not 
 to remove myself spiritually from her by the 
 employment ol'disturbinsi remedies ;* which was 
 a thing impossible in itself, and contrary to the 
 primitive laws of the higher soul's life. 
 
 " You may employ external means to destroy 
 the organism of our soul's lil'e, but you are as 
 little able to destroy the bond that unites us, as 
 you are able to destroy our souls !" said she, in 
 a dream, shortly before my embarkation Irom 
 Cadiz. 
 
 " The soul is indtstructible. It knows no 
 time^no age. No sullijnng is able to change 
 its entity. It may remain undeveloped, sup- 
 pressed, like a germ, in men ; the soul may be 
 extinguished to the last spark through material- 
 ism ; but the germ cannot be annihilated — the 
 spark cannot be extinguished. It slumbers on 
 in the mass of matter, and at its aw.ikeniog, after 
 the physical death of the shell that enveloped 
 it, it discovers that it was incumbent for it to 
 have fought the fight of its development on 
 earth. It must begin from below in another 
 world, in the scale of imperfection to which it 
 has sunk back through failure in the develop- 
 ment of its force of will — through failure in self- 
 consciousness upon earth.— Throuiih the con- 
 sciousness of our reason, and tlirough the per- 
 ception of our soul, does the spirit within us de- 
 velop itself, and strive upwards to the source 
 of light, from which it is derived. 
 
 " Whoever lives on earth without (he recog- 
 nition of reason, and without perception ot the 
 soul, lives on in the element of materialism ; he 
 does not live, he vegetates, and at the moment 
 of awakening after death, an account will be re- 
 quired Irom each tme, of how he has developed or 
 neglected the sacred pledge of the inward life. 
 
 " The consciousness of inward lil'e or death, 
 or the soul's suicide on earth, is llie heaven and 
 hell beyond the grave in the awaking." 
 
 With similar consolations did the spirit ot 
 my friend strengthen me in my dream-lile, and 
 I tliscontinued tile employment of disturbins; and 
 destructive remedies, (or the di>solving of our 
 animatic unity, as no external metliods would 
 ilave been able lo destroy our unity of soul. 
 
 Paola followed the will of her parents on her 
 return to Buenos Ayres, and gave her hand lo 
 
 * In accordance witli the facts upon which thc5e com 
 muuicutiuus are louuded, we know also a fact in the 
 contrary case, in « iiich a man in animatic union with a 
 latty, se'parate.l Irom her, fell into a state of nervous dis- 
 tur'hance in con^eijucnce of iron in several lorms, ap- 
 plied on her as medical remedies. The " elFrcts in dis- 
 tance," of many hundred miles could Ije proved by letters 
 and diaries.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 283 
 
 her betrothed a yesr after our separation. Her 
 soul remained also nnited to mine, notwithstand- 
 ing she was twice a sufTerer from distorbing; 
 
 physical causes and her state of magnetic 
 
 rapport was interrupted. 
 
 I experienced what no mortal on earth sus- 
 pects, who does not know the sphere in which 
 my beinsj for ever moved. I saw her then after- 
 wards in a dream, as the mother of two daugh- 
 ters. Tlie oldest was strange to me — the second 
 my spiritual image. The first died — and it has 
 seemed to me for some years, as if Paola no more 
 lived on earth, since she speaks to me in my 
 dreams in a more elevated spiritual language, 
 and my soul has found peace upon earth. 
 
 My relatives left Spam likewise, and went to 
 South America. I have one sister, whom I love 
 infinitely, as she loves me. But in the possibil- 
 ity that a human error may occur in my dream- 
 life, and Paola still live, I remain faithful to my 
 resolve, not to allow a .syllable to be heard from 
 me, until I obtain the assurance of her death, or 
 that which I have longed for — to bear my silence 
 to the grave. It was my design, not even through 
 the news of my existence to disturb in the least 
 degree a social relation, which, from all that 1 
 could learn, was not so painful for Paola as the 
 efl^ect it jjroduced upon me at a distance. 
 
 At her departure from Spain, Paola's mother 
 sent me the duplicate of a portrait of my som- 
 nambule which a talented artist had copied from 
 her own original. 
 
 Since Paola's marriage I have no more intelli- 
 gence from her mother, as I broke off the cor- 
 respondence on my part. 
 
 GABRIEL GARRINGOS TO SENHOR H. VERA 
 
 GoA, January 13th, 1838. 
 My friend — 
 
 I transmit you the two accompanying manu- 
 scripts ; the Element of Magnetism, etc., and 
 Autobiographical Fragments, and permit me here 
 to repeat my verbal request and commission to 
 you, at your departure for Rio de Janeiro. 
 
 After having been made acquainted, since your 
 youth, with all that concerns my inward and out- 
 ward life, I desire you carefully, but in secret, to 
 make inquiries in regard to the fate of my friend 
 and my sister — under the guidance likewise of 
 the accompanying family papers and the afore 
 said portrait. 
 
 Should my forebodings be well founded that a 
 being lives on earth, who, as a wonderful phe- 
 nomenon in the province of the spiritual spheres, 
 is so nearly akin to me spiritually, as to be a 
 copy of my inward being, the confirmation of 
 this would be a singular compensation for all the 
 sufierings 1 have endured on earth, in conse- 
 quence of an indissoluble spiritual bond. 
 
 Should you succeed in discovering traces of 
 my friend, then conceal entirely this commission, 
 in case she still lives ; and gladly as [ would fulfil 
 my duty as a brother towards my sister, I must, 
 in such a case, still further maintain my incog- 
 nito, even towards her. 1 doubt whether Senora 
 Paola knows my sister, but even if she have re- 
 mained a stranger to her until now, a chance 
 might reveal that I still live, and where I live. 
 Thi^ discovery might even yet endanger my 
 friend's peace of mind — which remains sacred to 
 me 
 
 Should my forebodings, however, not have de- 
 ceived me, should Paola have passed over into 
 that sphere of light whose existence as a spirit- 
 ual reality became certainty to us, I then desire 
 you to make use of the accompanying power of 
 attorney, and to control and dispose of the half 
 of my possessions, or to be equally divided 
 among the children of my sister and Senora 
 Paola ; remarking, by the way, that the other half 
 will accrue to these my heirs at my death, for 
 which purpose 1 have named you, my dear Vera, 
 as the executor of my testament. 
 
 Your friend, etc., etc. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PATRICK AND SALLY. 
 
 Hardlv had Senhor Vera heard, tlirough Dr. 
 Thorfin and Horatio, of the arrival of Signora 
 Serafini and the arrest Alvarez, than he went to 
 the Minister of the Interior, and sought a private 
 audience, which was granted to him without 
 particular difficulty. He legitimated himself as 
 the attorney of an uncle of the lady and the pris- 
 oner, commissioned to take an interest in them 
 in every respect, in any case that might occur. 
 
 The Minister of the Interior was always — 
 Minister of the Interior, and this position, in a 
 monarchy or at a court, embraces a legitimate 
 or quasi legitimate importance, which troubles 
 itself little with the family relations of any ar- 
 rested type setter or guitar teacher, especially 
 when he is the companion in guilt of a sans cu- 
 lolte, or even his brother-in-law. The Minister 
 promised to "inform himself about the matter" 
 of the two prisoTiers, and allowed the millionaire 
 from Goa to undertake another excursion to the 
 portal of his ministerial palace. Senhor Vera 
 made use of this permission, and found his ex- 
 cellency colder and more laconic than before. 
 
 " The release of the prisoner, De la Barca, is 
 not to be thought of," replied he to the negro 
 from Goa. " With regard to the faroupilha, Se- 
 rafini, he will probably be condemned to death, 
 and 1 will endeavor to soften the sentence to 
 perpetual exile from Brazil. But his process 
 must take its course, I cannot set him at liberty 
 not even with guarantee of a million. As regards 
 the young man, De la Barca, accusations from 
 Europe are pending against him, through an 
 ambassador. I will, upon your intercession, and 
 from considerations for his sister, take care that 
 he is not given up. Your wish to visit the pris- 
 oners cannot be complied with. Neither you, nor 
 the lady, nor any one else, can hold any inter- 
 course with them so long as their sentence is not 
 pronounced. Tell the lady, however, that 1 will 
 undertake the twofold aftiiir, and, if possible, 
 will soften the sentence of death against her 
 husband as a traitor, as I told you already." 
 
 The minister turned to a secretary, who had 
 remained during the interview, and Senhor Vera 
 took his leave. 
 
 He went to the Hotel du Nord, where Dr. 
 
 Thorfin and Horatio awaited him, to accompany 
 
 I him on a visit to Signora Serafini. She had 
 
 ' gradually received from Dr. Thorfin a commuui-
 
 284 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 cation concerning the existence and the fitte of 
 her brother, which could not be withheld from 
 her, as Senhor Vera ur?ed it, that he might, 
 when it was possible, fulfil the commission of 
 her uncle as his attorney. Angelica learnt, to 
 her highest surprise, the intelligence from Goa, 
 and at the same time also received the revelation 
 concerning the singular bond which placed at 
 her side a female, as a sister, who lived in her 
 neighborhood in the strictest incognito. 
 
 VVe consign the unfortunate wife and sister to 
 the consolation and care of those friends who 
 ai-raiiged for lier a country house in Praya 
 Grande, where she was to await the time that 
 should decide the fate of those so dear to her. 
 
 Patrick Gentleboy received a card of a certain 
 Lady Hamlet through the medium of a negro, 
 who could not tell him much about the occa- 
 sion of the invitation. But Patrick had heard 
 all sorts of long stories told by one sailor and 
 another during tedious night watches belbre the 
 mast, on board of one or another slow sailing 
 ship on a long, long voyage : stories of won- 
 derful lucky accidents, by which this or that 
 poor devil by some chance or other v^■as sud- 
 denly taken out from the mire of his miserable 
 life, and became a " gentleman " without know- 
 ing how. 
 
 Patrick made his toilet as carefully as a Dutch 
 sailor when he is ordered "to tlje helm" on 
 boiu-d an Admiral's vessel, dressed himself 
 clean t'rom head to foot, and even drew the two 
 long ends of his neck handkerchief through a 
 gold ring which he had bought for himself as a 
 memorial of his charge as " commanding officer 
 of a cutter " at the mouth of the La Plata. Con- 
 noisseurs assert, to be sure, that Patrick was 
 cheated, that the ring was false ; but having paid 
 for it as gold, he wore it as gold. He thrust a 
 new Chili hat that cost ten miUreis on his head, 
 and swaggered along in a broad sailor's step 
 through the suspicious Rua do Sabao to the 
 Campo da Santa Anna, and arriving at length in 
 the open space, sought the street near it, where 
 Lady Hamlet must live. It was about one o'clock 
 in the day. The great tbuntain in the apparently 
 interminable square swarmed with negrt)es and 
 negresses, who drew the water and rinsed their 
 linen, and told each other all sorts of things about 
 whites, and blacks, and mulattoes, and cabocles I 
 and olten laughed in chorus. 
 
 To his great amazement, he met a female, 
 poorly but cleanly dressed, with a black straw- 
 gipsy, and a real strongly marked Irish coun- 
 tenance, that was rather handsome than other- 
 wise. It was Lucy, attended by a droll little old 
 negress, di'essed in a coffee sack with a water 
 ewer upon her head, and a little pipe in her 
 little mouth. " What, the devil ! Lucy! where 
 did you come from r" cried he to her ; " and what 
 sort of a faymale two legged mole is that creep- 
 ing along by you there ? " 
 
 " I've bcitn to see a Mrs. Adams that was after 
 wanting a white woman to do some sewing for 
 her, but to my notion she seems more like a 
 Miss than a Mistress. She is a kind lady for a 
 Saxon ; and I've got some work from hor.'' 
 
 " And I am bid to go to a Lady Hamlet. Only 
 see what sort of an admiralty order that is, that 
 brings me into this latitude I and sure there's 
 tnough of that same hare, and longitude besides ; 
 pUaty ol room to beat against without touching 
 
 land. " Do you know where this street is ? then 
 
 read once : No. 9 Rua do — do where is it ?'■ 
 
 " And sure that's the same house that I'm 
 after coming from !" cried Lucy. *' Is there ever 
 a Lady Hamlet lives in your garden ?" inquired 
 she of old Bebida, who had been very attentively 
 observing the long red-haired branco. 
 
 " Si Senhora !" replied the old woman with a 
 I'eep breast voice. " Yes, Senhora Amlet lives 
 with Senhora ."Vdams. Si Senhora ! Dabedica- 
 demUsimaqulipatu !" 
 
 " Will you show this gentleman the way there .' 
 There, ther'are four vintenis fur you," continued 
 Lucy, taking out her purse to bestow the gentle 
 gift from pure compassion lor the poor creature. 
 " Thanks I thanks, Senhora ! thanks I" croaked 
 Bebida, in the alto voice which she had at com- 
 mand when she was pleased ; "Dabedicadeinpati- 
 gumati ! I'll show the Senhor Rranco ! bonita 
 .Senhor Branco grande big! hi-lii-hi! red hair! 
 red beard! bonito ! Dabedicadem — hi-hi-hi I" 
 said she, laughing loudly, and turning towarda 
 the corner of the little countrylike street, in 
 which Senhora Sally Fortuna Adams Hamlet 
 resided. 
 
 Patrick had not much time to chat with Lucy; 
 he promised her to come to O'Hallnran's in tlie 
 evening, and tell her what his fate had prepared 
 for him, and then hurried after the female mole, 
 who had not drawn any water, as she wished first 
 to earn the four vintems she had received be- 
 forehand. 
 
 I Bebida had been prepared at the gate for such 
 j inquiries by Miss Sally, and now led the " fine 
 : red branco" to Lady Hamlet, who sat in the 
 [audience chamber in the wide armchair "Great 
 ' Britain," dressed in decent neglige, and ab- 
 sorbed in Dickens's " Oliver Twist." 
 I Patrick looked at the Lady, and looked at her 
 ! again, and showed his card, and asked if " this 
 I was the place !" 
 
 " Sit down," began Sally, in a low voice, and 
 with a seriousness of expression that offered a 
 singular contrast with the lascivious extrava- 
 gance of the Bachante of the preceding night. 
 
 " You are an Irishman, and your name is 
 Patiick— ?" 
 
 " Patrick McCaffray at your earvice ; but they 
 call me mostly Pat Gentleboy, plase your 
 Ladyship !" 
 
 Sally sighed, for it was difficult for her to 
 make the preface which must precede her reve- 
 lation. 
 
 " You are in the service of a man here who 
 calls himself the Baron de Spandau, who is a 
 spy .'" began she at length. 
 
 Patrick had seated himself, and was pulling 
 his Chili hat in all maimer of ways, and looking 
 at the lady as sharply as if she were a buoy or 
 tun wliich he wished to steer past. 
 
 " The man is called the Baron de Spandau 
 what's taken me in tow, sure enough, your lady- 
 ship," replied he at length, " and sure I found 
 out he was a spy before iver I took sarvice wid 
 him, and didn't I tell that same to Captain Hi- 
 
 nango and Dr. Thorfin ?" 
 
 " Captain Hinango and Dr. Thorfia !" inter- 
 rupted Sally with considerable vivacity ; " that's 
 
 right — those were the names " 
 
 " But if I might be so bould as to ax your 
 ladyship who are you ? for I'm a stranger heia 
 and — " He looked all around, as if to satisfy
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 2^3 
 
 I'liiiSili' fl:at all wJiich sarrounded him was in 
 fact -jlrange to him. 
 
 ' t am a poor girl from Norfol1<!fhire in Eng- 
 land," replied Sally, with a reiterated sigh. 
 " My name is — " she suddenly hesitated and 
 blushed. A womanly sentiment of shame seized 
 her at the thought of the position in which she 
 Was placed in regard to the seaman. 
 
 " My name is Caroline," continued she. " Can 
 an English woman rely upon you, Patrick, in a 
 matter which concerns the saving of several 
 lives ?" 
 
 " Is it whether you can rely upon me when 
 there are lives to be saved.'" repeated Patrick, 
 rising hastily ; " well, then, be Jasus ! mynani« 
 is Patrick McCaffray, and may sorrow be my por- 
 tion if ye cannot rely upon me when there are 
 lives to be saved, whether male or female, beg- 
 ging your ladyship's pardon for speaking so loud, 
 but its the truth ! I came here with the Nord- 
 stjernan, a Swedish brig, of 400 tons, strong, 
 heavy, and a fine sailer, Capt. Fingreen, and 
 before I went on board I — fired with this finger 
 a carbine, and burnt down an Ar-gentile officer in 
 the starn of our cutter, w1io wanted to make an 
 incendiary out of me, to bring honest jieople, gen- 
 tale people, to the gallows, a young lady from La 
 Plata river, beautiful as the moon When it rises 
 in the first night watch ! and before I came on 
 board the Ar-gentile brig 1 was pressed, with a 
 South American gentleman — a gentleman, if ever 
 a' cabin passenger was one. And now your 
 ladyship knows who I am and where I came 
 from, and PII take your orders if you plaae." 
 
 Sally beckoned to old Bcbida, who showed 
 herself at the door with wine and water, and 
 a large glass. She came in, placed the refresh- 
 ments on the table, murmured very softly her 
 " Dabedicadem," and glided out again. 
 
 " Help yourself to a drink," continued Sally, 
 " it is warm, and you must go a long distance, 
 to the Gloria; or does Captain Hinango live 
 lomewhere near !" 
 
 Patrick had used the large glass for what it 
 was good for, wiped his lips with the ends of 
 his black silk neck handkerchief, and replied, 
 *' I ax your ladyship's pardon ; Captain Hinango 
 has been living at Santa Theresa, but is now on 
 board the Astraia, which lies out there by the 
 Cobras island, between the Cobras and the Pa- 
 triot's Fortress, Devil-call-you,*as I believe it is 
 the name." 
 
 " Well, which do you believe you can find 
 the most certainly at this hour, Captain Hinango 
 or Dr. Thorfin .'" 
 
 " Shure and it would be Captain Hinango, on 
 board the Astraia ; but if I go to him, and the 
 baron knows it, there'l be a storm brewed." 
 
 " The baron knows that 1 have sent for you; 
 I was to spy you concerning Captain Hinango's 
 voyage. You can, then, go undisturbed on board 
 to him, and in case the baron should ask you 
 about it afterwards, you could say that you went 
 there to inquire. of him if he had not known a 
 Mr. McDonald in London, the brother of Lady 
 Hamlet ; that this lady was here, and thought 
 that she had heard his name mentioned by her 
 brother ; then you can come back again undis- 
 turbed, as I must spy you still further." 
 
 " Kov/ I begin to see how the land lies, and 
 
 •Do-Vilcalhoa. 
 
 I'll steer my Course accordingly. And what will 
 I carry for Captain Hinango ?" 
 
 " This lelter, on which hangs his life and the 
 life of the young lady frnm Buenos .Ayres — and 
 my life," adiled she in a low voice, trembling, as 
 she handed the envelope to the Irishman, which 
 contained the order from Buenos Ayres, under 
 a false name of the baron, addressed to Senor 
 Prole. 
 
 " I got possesiion of these letters at the risk 
 of my life last night, and must lay it back again 
 before Ibis evening, where I took it from. If it 
 were missed, I should be poisoned without cere- 
 mony, for the scoundrels would know then that 
 I saw through their plan, ami knew their posi- 
 tion." 
 
 " Och ! and that's thrue for you then ; it's that 
 same they'd be doing," returned Patrick, shoving 
 the letter into the breast pocket of his blue 
 spencer, and buttoning it up. " Miss Caroline," 
 said he, after a pause, " I must hoist anchor, and 
 get under sail to come alongside of the .Astraia. 
 I'll come back here in an hour, but If I don't 
 find Captain Hinango, what then .' v,-ill I go to 
 Dr. Thorfin .'" 
 
 "Yes," assented Sally, "go to one of the 
 two, but of all things in the world, bring the 
 letter back to me before this evening." 
 
 ** In two hours you shall have the letter again, 
 I promise your ladyship, and may God reward 
 you for what you are doing to save Captain Hi- 
 nango and his friend ! — Your health. Miss Caro- 
 line," added he, while he again availed himself 
 of the large glass, and then cordially took his 
 leave. 
 
 He hurried out across the Campo da Santa 
 Anna, into the Rua do Sabao, and still out, and 
 further out, to the Praya ilos Pescadores, where 
 he step[)ed into a negro boat, and steered over to 
 the Astraia. He found Captain Hinango in his 
 cabin, employed with the expedition to Rio 
 Grande, whither Horatio was to go in a few 
 days After a short and very incnir.crehensible 
 preface about a Lady Hamlet, and Miss Caroline, 
 and Campo da Sanra Anna, and a long, long 
 street called the Rua do "Sabottes," and about the 
 young lady from La Plata river, and the risk of 
 life, and the like. Patrick drew out the letter, 
 and handed it to the captain of the Astraia. 
 The worthy Patrick was by no means tipsy, the 
 two drops of wine at Miss Sally's had not given 
 him the least appearance of intoxication, but 
 what he said had very little meaning. 
 
 Hinango opened the envelope and began to 
 re?d, in the hope of learning more from the letter 
 than from Patrick's "speech from tiie throne" 
 in the name of " Queen Victory." Hardly had 
 he glanced over the first periods, when he 
 looked at the sheet on both sides, turned it over 
 again, then looked at Patrick, and inquired; 
 
 " Where did you get this letter.'" 
 
 " Ax pardon, your honor," replied Patrick, 
 "it's the most natural thing in life. A young 
 girl that calls herself Caroline, from Norfolk- 
 shire in England, gave the letter to me, and 
 runs the risk of her life if I wouldn't bring it 
 back agin in an hour. As for what's in the 
 letter, that I don't know, for I can't spake 
 French, but I only know that Miss Caroline has 
 a good intintion to save the lives of some peo- 
 ple that she doesn't know intirely ; and that's 
 the whole thruth, axing your honor's pardon^
 
 -286 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 that's all I had to say before. And now, your 
 honor, '11 be aflher understanding the letter, and 
 all about it." 
 
 Hinango now read further, and the sheet 
 ti'embled in his hand ; not by any moans that 
 personal fear tooU possession of him — he knew 
 no fear. Hia courage rcae with every danger, 
 when it only concerned liimself ; but he trans- 
 ferred himself, with all the vivacity of his north- 
 ern imagination, into the position of the poor 
 girl who had sent him a document which con- 
 tained his own death sentence, and that of Do- 
 lores, and without personal interest, had, in such 
 a manner, exposed lierself to danger to save 
 them both. 
 
 " Where is the girl who gave you this letter.'" 
 inquired he, hastily and urgently, seizing a pen 
 and copying some passages of the letter^ while 
 he spoke to Patricli. 
 
 "In the little quiet street round the left hand 
 corner, from the great wide long place, where 
 the nigger women wash," replied he, and Hi- 
 nango wrote further. 
 
 " Do yon know whether I can speak to her .' 
 whether she would receive a visit .'" 
 
 " I doubt it, captain," said Patrick ; " for 
 doesn't your honor see, if you went there, the 
 baron might find it out."' 
 
 Hinango started, and looked at him intently. 
 " The baron ?" cried he ; " the girl knows the 
 baron then ? This letter is directed to the baron, 
 that I can comprehend, but I do not comprehend 
 the girl ; therefore I would like to speak to her. 
 You are a fellow who has seen many craft ; tell 
 me then, Patrick, what doyou think of this girl .' 
 the Caroline — to what class does she belong ?" 
 
 " Och then, captain," replied Patrick, " I'll 
 make bould to say that she holds a good course, 
 when she's trying to save your honor and the 
 young lady, and that's a great deal ; for the rest, 
 she seems to me a right solid, well built, and 
 good sailing brig, who has not been many years 
 in service, but hardly used, aa it seems to me, 
 your honor, and run ashore by some captain or 
 other, and left there till another one goes to 
 sea with her, and runs her ashore again. So 
 that's what 1 think about the fine English Caro- 
 line of Norfolk. But it's time, your honor, 
 for me to be getting into the boat agin, to take 
 back the letter." 
 
 Hinango had, meanwhile, noted what was ne- 
 cessary, again placed the letter in the envelope 
 without address, and rising, said to Patrick with 
 all the earnestness of his nature ; " Patrick, 
 now take this letter to the worthy girl, and 
 greet her from me. Tell her that 1 thank her 
 in the name of the young lady, and that 1 desire 
 to thank lier myself tor her noble minded be- 
 havior towards me. Tell her that whoever she 
 may be, she holds a high and sacred place in 
 my esteem, and if 1 can do the smallest thing 
 for tlie promotion of her happiness, she must 
 not refuse to talk with me about it, whenever 
 and wherever it may be. Nevertheless, 1 leave 
 all that with her; and now see that you lose 
 no time." 
 
 " I'll see to all that, your honor," said Patrick, 
 confidently, and hurried into his negro boat, 
 which awaited him at the side of the -^strala. 
 
 " .Strange,' thought Hinango, when he was 
 again alone ; " this is the third case in my ex- 
 perience in which a poor creature of this class 
 
 has taken an interest in the persecuted, risking 
 her own life to save the lives of men, without 
 e.xpecting, under the existing circumstances, 
 any acknowledgement whatever ! Is the female 
 heart so noble by nature, that no social wretch- 
 edness can lay it waste ? or does misfortune 
 heighten the nobleness of the heart ?" 
 
 Amid similar contemplations he locked his 
 writing desk, took with him the copy which he 
 had just written, and entered his boat. 
 
 We already know that he had been invited, 
 with Dr. Thorfin, to the betrothal at Mr. Thom- 
 son's. 
 
 The fate of Dolores lay nearer to his heart 
 than the danger which evidently threatened him 
 personally. He turned to Dr. 'Thorfin, and in- 
 formed him of what he had just learned. Ho- 
 ratio was present. 
 
 " What is to be done to save Dolores .'" was 
 the question, and a long pause of mutual con- 
 sideration followed. 
 
 " 1 must take Dolores on board, and conduct 
 her to Monte Video," began Hinango, at length. 
 " That would be the only method," observed 
 Thorfin, " but the embarkation cannot take 
 place here in Rio. For the future, the Baron 
 IS, so to say, a member of the Thomson family, 
 and Dolores has long since been considered ad 
 such. How in the world shall we bring her 
 away from Bota Fogo, without pursuit on the 
 part of the old widower, who wishes to marry 
 her, and on the part of the baron, who wishes 
 to deliver her up ?" 
 
 " Old Mr. Thomson must go with her,'" ob- 
 served Horatio ; " Dolores must act as if she 
 entered into his plan." 
 
 " That she will not do," interrupted Hinan- 
 go ; " it is worth her life, but, as a woman, she 
 will undertake no such part." 
 
 " I feel that," assented the youth, " but do 
 you know any other way .'" 
 
 " She must ta'^e a voyage with the Thomson 
 family, may be to Santa Catharina, where Mr. 
 Thomson has business now besides. You, Hora- 
 tio, must go as quickly as possible to Rio (irande. 
 Celeste is there. Barigahli must cruise before 
 Santa Catharina with the Mazzini; 1 will meet 
 him there with the Astrala, and we must take 
 Dolores either peaceably or by force." 
 
 " The plan is not had," observed Thorfin, 
 " but Robert must accompany Dolores, and con- 
 duct the whole expedition. We can confde 
 Dolores to him, and if the Baron should even 
 go with them, Robert would bring ofi' Dolores, 
 either by cunning, or by his decided deport- 
 ment in defiance of him." 
 
 " Could not this take place here in Rio ?' in- 
 quired Horatio, after a renewed pause. 
 
 "It would be very difficult, almost impossible," 
 observed Thorfin. Admitting that Robert should 
 find it possible to undertake a trip on the bay 
 with her, and conduct her on board the Astrala, 
 would not Spandau immediately suspect where 
 she had been carried to ? Under the pretence 
 that you had " cliains and cramps" on bgard for 
 the slave trade, he would immediately institute 
 a search. Although many ships are equipped 
 here, and intended for tliis purpose, the pretence 
 would serve the secret police to seize the con- 
 demned from La Plata river. The circumstance 
 that she is here under a false name would make 
 her arrest lawful, and then she would be in Lho
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 987 
 
 biiron's hands, and Mr. Thomson would not even 
 then believe that De Spandau was a spy. De 
 Spandau would do every thing as Thomson's 
 brother in law, to be helpful to liim, to compel 
 Dolores to marry him, and the old man would be 
 gratefully obliged to the Baron for his rascality. 
 So soon as Dolores takes a single step to leave 
 Thomson's, she incurs the risk of falling into the 
 hands of the police." 
 
 " I perceive all that," assented Hinango; *' but 
 now for one question : will Robert tear himself 
 away from the fetters which paralyze him here .' 
 Will lie be able to save himself in order to save 
 Dolores ?" 
 
 Horatio looked inquiringly at his friend, for 
 he, in his inexperience, had not seen through 
 the relation of Robert to his neighbor, having less 
 quicksightedness than the others. 
 
 *' I hope," replied Thorfin, " that exactly and 
 simply this, and only this occasion, will tear him 
 away from the tragical circumstances which 
 surround him. We know him hitherto in the 
 depth of liis noble nature. I am satisfied that 
 the safety of Dolores lies near his heart, for he 
 loves her like his sister, and reverences her like 
 a saint. But I admit also that a powerful mo- 
 tive must be aroused within him, to separate 
 him from his neighbor, if it be only for a time ; 
 and if he does not soon separate himself from 
 her — I fear — more than I will express to-day." 
 
 " In that case, my dear Horatio, you must now 
 immediately set off for Rio Grande, may be by 
 water to Santa Catharina, and so along the coast, 
 under the good pretence of your art, may be as 
 a landscape painter." 
 
 " 1 am ready" replied Horatio, " and will go all 
 the more gladly, now that 1 know that Celeste is 
 already there. We shall then soon find an oppor- 
 tunity of receiving Dolores in Santa Catharina." 
 
 " De Spandau has at least no authority there, 
 as he has here," observed Hinango. " Even if 
 there be a police there, it is at least no secret 
 police, at his service. Under Robert's orders, old 
 Achilles will always be his man in case of need, 
 and gladly as I would take Patrick wilh me as 
 hoalswain of the Astrala, he appears on the other 
 hand as indispensable for such an expedition in 
 Robert's service and for the safety of Dolores." 
 
 " The fellow is indispensable," added Thorfin. 
 ** It remains for us now to obtain the consent of 
 Dolores to this plan, and if possible to arrange 
 the voyage to Santa Catharina before you go 
 away, Senor Horatio, that we may then be able 
 to decide when the Mazzini must cruise before 
 Santa Catharina." 
 
 " If possible, I will be on board of the Mazzini 
 myself," replied the youth ; " I hope to arrange 
 it so." 
 
 The three friends still conversed about the 
 many particulars for the preparation and carry- 
 ing out of the plan, until the time arrived which 
 summoned Hinango and Thorfin to the betrothal. 
 Horatio felt more painfully than ever the bitter- 
 ness of his social separation from Dolores, who, 
 in the " castle" of an English house, must re- 
 nounce all acquaintance, and least of all durst 
 receive a " foreigner " like Horatio, who was 
 ** only an artist," as a guest at the house. 
 
 Nothing else remained for the youth but to 
 send his hearty greeting to his friend, who, 
 through the fate of his uncle, stood as near to him 
 as any being on earth 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE DIPLOMATIC DINNEB. 
 
 There are words in every language which 
 cannot be translated in the same sense in any 
 other language by any single word, because the 
 idea is strange which the word expresses, and 
 many a language has no words for ideas, which 
 are current in every other language. Thus the 
 two En£;iish words, " humbug" and " dullness," 
 cannot be translated in any other language with- 
 out lengthy description, because the ideas which 
 these words represent, are national English, and 
 attlie same time inseparable. 
 
 The English language, originally brought to- 
 gether on the basis of the Anglo-Saxon tongue, 
 by a certain system of piracy, (as the possessions 
 of the British liave been acquired in all quarters 
 of the globe,) wants a multitude of words, the 
 ideas of which are foreign to the nation, because 
 it does not exactly require tliem in its business. 
 Thus, for instance, the word " fatherland " was 
 first introduced by Lord Byron, until which an 
 Englishman was unacquainted with the term. 
 He was acquainted with the word " native coun'- 
 try," the land where he, as an individual, was 
 born — the word " home," where he finds his 
 comfort, which he can transport to all parts of 
 the world ; but the Englishman as little knew the 
 word " fatherland," as he did the term " love of 
 fatherland," which is something quite difterent 
 from his patriotism. The Greek word, Esthetic, 
 (the science of the intellectually beautiful,) lonij 
 since current in the German language, and in a 
 measure " incorporated " in it by Lessing's 
 " Laocoon," is foreign to the English language, 
 because the sense for the intellectually beautiful 
 is wanting in the nation, while this science has 
 its professorship in every university of the Eu- 
 ropean continent. 
 
 It would be an endless task, and the object 
 of a particular literary work, to analyse the 
 disfiguration of foreign ideas in the reception 
 of foreign words in the English language, but 
 such a work would be instructive. 
 
 We have been invited to Miss Thomson's be- 
 trothal dinner, and have here only to do with 
 the words and ideas, humbug and dulness. 
 
 The bridegroom represents humbug, thn 
 bride dulness. 
 
 What is humbug .' 
 
 The word seems to have originated in latter 
 times, from the development of " civilization." 
 
 Aristotle-Johnson was not acquainted wilh it. 
 Is the word composed from hum and bug ? The 
 hum of a carrion beetle over a foul morass .' or 
 is it perchance the name of the inventor of hum- 
 bug, by whom the word was applied to the in- 
 vention, or to the thing, as, for instance, the 
 words Daguerreotype, Mesmerism, Fourierism, 
 Paletot, Garrick, Guillotine, and so many others ? 
 Perhaps it is really the name of an immortal 
 man — immortal by the mischief which his in- 
 vention has caused in all parts of the world to 
 which English civilization has extended. But 
 in such a case, if it were his name, like Fulton, 
 Guttenberg, Hahnemann, Berthold Schwartz, 
 Stc, &c. It is inconceivable that humbug itself 
 has not long since hit upon the speculation of 
 
 • Translated into EuglisU about tea years ago.
 
 ilSB 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 placing a mnnlimenf to if? inventor — to hum- 
 bug with his birthpLice, the house in which he 
 was born, the little shoes he wore when a child, 
 the niiihtonp in which he slept, in short, " to 
 hutnbu;;" with all the relics of its immortal in- 
 ventor. What " a new worhl" of humbn:; would 
 be opened to humbug by this apotheosis of its in- 
 ventor .' It is indeed a thonjlit which cannot be 
 gnlUciently discussed, as the episode of a novel. 
 We ninst thcrefure look, for its investigation, to 
 another literary work, to be a3 comi)rehen3ive 
 as possible. 
 
 As every creature requires its elements of ex- 
 istence, as the bird lives in the air, the fish in 
 the water, amphibious animals in both elements, 
 the swine in the mire, the inucltworm in the 
 stench of manure, Humbug exists in its element 
 — Dullness. Without the element of dullness, 
 hurobuz cannot exist. 
 
 AVhat is dullness ? 
 
 Aristotle-Johnson says : " Dullness is stu- 
 pidity, indocility, dimness." Well; very well. 
 But neither stupidity, nor indocility, nor dim- 
 ness, is dullness. The word dullness embraces 
 rather all the conceptions which lie at the foun- 
 dation of all these three significant words. But 
 also the thorough and satisfactory discussion of 
 the term dullness cannot be treated as the episode 
 of any novel, but only as the element of hum- 
 bug, as the so called " life ()uestion of humbug," 
 jn a philosophic novel — ** Humbug.''* 
 
 Monsieur le Baron de Spandau, a former ap- 
 prentice to an apothecary, then a Prussian en- 
 sign, and then sentenced to imprisonment for 
 the practical development of his talent in the 
 visitation of the portfolios of others, was, in the 
 last capacity, recognised as a useful subject in 
 tlie service of the royal Prussian secret police> 
 in the department of foreign aflfairs. 
 
 He was an intimate friend of Signore Parte- 
 sotti.t from Mantua, the celebrated Austrian spy 
 at Paris, who had acquired a certain "honor- 
 able position" in the history of tlie secret asso- 
 ciations (of the police as well as of republican 
 conspiracies) of our epoch, and of right deserves 
 his place in a biograpbic.il dictionary of the 
 " bearers of court and gallows dignities." 
 
 Monsieur le Baron de Spandau had then been 
 betrothed to Miss .Susan in the same very natu- 
 ral manner, as the book publisher's clerk. Mon- 
 sieur le Corate de B Irom Milan, married a 
 
 Miss * , and the Billiard Marker, Monsieur 
 
 le Comto de • from Smyrna, married a 
 
 Lady * in London, in the years l'<.'ji-ls;i.5. 
 
 " With liumbug nofliing is impossible," could 
 very well pass into a proverb, by the side of the 
 old proverb, "With God nothing is impossible." 
 
 It was much more brilliant in Mr. Thomson's 
 country house at Beta Kogo, on this day of be- 
 trothal, to which we now return, than it was 
 once on that festive Sunday, when Mr. Thom- 
 son's hopes, and expectations, and claims on 
 life were " weighed," and Seiiora Isabella de 
 Campana was weighed. 
 
 • Tlio author of Dolores possesses abundant materials 
 for sucli a novel, aod holies, in a short time, to com- 
 mence upon it. 
 
 t Tbe paper's of Ibis infamous traitor, like the port- 
 folios of tlie above mentioned Szostakowsk', have lall- 
 en, by a very singular fate, into the hands of the per- 
 secutcdt.^uion 
 
 As soon as the morning had fairly cotnmenised 
 " all hands were called on deck," to clean and 
 sweep all the rooms, chambers, and closets of 
 the " Villa Thomson," to turn about evci-v thing 
 that was in them, to dust all the furniture, to 
 fix and fold all the curtains and other drapr-ry, 
 as if right should be done for the reception of 
 such respectable guests, at the head of wiom 
 was his Ex-ellency the Minister of his Tianspa- 
 rent Highness the Prince of and at Eniphausen. 
 
 The old portraits of Vasco de Gamo, and the 
 no less immortal poet Camocs, in valuable cop- 
 perplate engravings in glass and frame, (re- 
 m.iins of the decayed propi-rty of a former pos- 
 sessor of the villa, of Portuguese nationality,) 
 were as carefully wiped off and cleansed from 
 musquito spots, as the magnificent picture of 
 Queen Victoria, which had only arrived a few 
 months before, as a selected impression " avant 
 la lettre," from London, direct to Bota Fogo, 
 and was displayed in a broad rosewood frame, 
 with gold borders, under crystal gl.iss, in a small 
 vice cabinet, next lo the ollen mentioned " green 
 parlor." 
 
 His excellency the ambassador of Kniphali- 
 sen, made his appearance as early as half-past 
 one, although he well knew that the main busi- 
 ness, to which he had been called, would first 
 begin at four or half-past four. 
 
 He made use of tbe excuse of ofTering to the 
 extraordinarily hospitable Miss Thomson his 
 especial congratulation at her betrothal, in the 
 Ibrm of a morning visit, whereby he would par- 
 take of a sort of lunch, which, if eaten at the 
 Hotel Faroux, would cost, by the bill of fare, 
 three mitlreis, without wine. As we here in- 
 troduce this European and Brazilian importaut 
 personage, it is right and proper to specify the 
 qualities of his excellency at the introduction. 
 
 We therefore remark, beforehand, that there 
 are, in the diplomatic world, ambassadors who 
 are not diplomatists, and diplomatists who never 
 become ambassadors. 
 
 Far be it from us here to engage in a detailed, 
 systematic and categorical account of the va- 
 rious ijualities of diplomatic characters, as there 
 are : Ambassadors and ministers, ministers pleni- 
 potentiary, resident ministers, and ministers 
 without a residence; envoyes extraordinaircs, 
 and envoyes bien ordinaires, charges d'aflbires, 
 and charges sans attaires, conseiUiersde legation, 
 and legation without either counsel or counsellor; 
 first secretaries of the embassy, secretaries of le- 
 gation, public and private attaches, and secret 
 attaches ; agents d'admiuistration of the em- 
 bassy, and secret agents of the ambassador ; 
 valets de chambre of the embassy, and femmcs 
 de chambre of the ambassador, &c., &.C., antl 
 however they may all be entitled. 
 
 Such a systematical, categorical classification 
 would be altogether too diplomatically tedious 
 for an episode to the betrothal of Miss Susan, 
 who had had enough of maidenly tediousiiess 
 for the last twenty years. 
 
 His excellency, the minister of " his transpa- 
 rent highness," the Prince of Kniphauseu, (and 
 of some other princes of the Germanic Confede- 
 ration inclusive,) was actually ambassador, or 
 resident minister of his princes at the imperial 
 Brazilian court, and drew a yearly salary (appa- 
 rently by " voluntary contributions" on the part 
 of tlie courts which he represented) of aboutten
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 289- 
 
 thousand dollars, with extra table-money (for 
 fhe maintenance of le2;ltiniate hospitality) of 
 about two thousand dollars, a salary with which 
 he could have very respectably represented the 
 •plendor and magnificence of liis Prince of 
 Kniphausen, and the aforesaid other princes. 
 But his excellency's favorite study had always 
 been Political Economy, and, as a branch of this 
 erstem, he had passionately studied Private 
 Economy, oneof tlie most interesting and lucra- 
 tive studies that any ambassador can pursue, who 
 draws a yearly salary of twelve thousand dol- 
 lars His excellency did not at all comprehend 
 tor what purpose he should, so to say, " run 
 through " this yearly income in Rio de Janeiro, 
 He inhabited a chamber with a closet, in the 
 third story of the Hotel Faroux, and had the 
 privilege of receiving a friend in one of the 
 parlors of the first story when he chose, with- 
 out thereby enjoying the right of sending any- 
 body out of the room, who, likewise, might be 
 receiving a friend there j\ist at that time. He 
 kept a carriage with four horses, a coachman, 
 and two servants in livery, for particular au- 
 diences and gala days, at a celebrated livery 
 stable on the Largo do San Francisco de Paolo, 
 
 nnd paid so and so much for every harnessing 
 
 and gala ride. 
 
 As to the expenditure of the extra table money, 
 he had, once for all, adopted the principle, to 
 invite no one to dine with him, but as often as 
 possible to invite himself here and there, to put 
 hiuiself in the way of being invited, and (in case 
 this could not be done every day) to eat in the 
 large dining room at the Hotel Faroux, with all 
 private economy of a bill of fare. This " carte de 
 resta\irant " was extremely well adapted to his 
 di[domatic .station, in which he, like every other 
 diplomatist, was a declared partisan of every 
 '* restauration." 
 
 The ambassador was a tall, slender man, with 
 a somewhat reddish, real diplomatic, that is to 
 say, unspeaking face, as far as Silence is the 
 first quality of diplomatic dignity. He always 
 appeared dressed in black, with black gloves, 
 like many other gentleman, and never wore 
 white or yellow gloves, from principle, from 
 private economy. He was a man of principle. 
 
 He W^ed as a bachelor, (which proceeds from 
 the above,) and as to his intercourse with the 
 female sex, his connexions of that sort re- 
 mained a diplomatic secret, asamatter of course. 
 He was actively occupied in colonization, in 
 exploring mines, and the like — as projects, with- 
 out ever taking a share in any of them. He had 
 at least so much sentiment of honor, as a diplo- 
 matist, that he never engaged in commerce. He 
 had studied, was classically educated, and con- 
 sequenlly knew that the Greeks, in the bloom of 
 their states, despised commerce, and committed 
 't to their slaves, while they occupied themselves 
 in science and arts, to the honor of their republic. 
 
 Hia excellency had partaken of his lunch, with 
 all the presence of mind, and calm of soul which 
 an ambassador (although not a diplomatist) can 
 manifest on similar public and private aiifairs. 
 He was just then promenading in the park, with 
 the principal person, or " heroine of the day," 
 Miss Susan Thomson, the future " Baroness de 
 Spandau," and was playing upon the Portuguese 
 aatiunai instrument, the Palito, just as the mar- 
 37 
 
 chardura of Monsieur le Baron de Spandau, 
 stamped at the garden gate. 
 
 The aforesaid Portuguese national instrument, 
 the palito, is a small, thin, flexible, but stiff 
 piece of wood, about three inches long, of tho 
 thickness of a knife, smooth, and pointed at both 
 ends. It is played with the thumb and the tws 
 longest fingers of the right or left hand, on beinj 
 passed between two teeth of the upper or lower 
 jaw and gives out no sounds. — Such is the Por- 
 tuguese national instrument, the palito, in pro- 
 fane English, " tooth pick," the practical use of 
 which (as of every musical instrument, with or 
 without sound) requires a particular degree of 
 artistical skill, which is a national peculiarity of 
 the Portusuese. 
 
 This well known musical entertainment, " of 
 good tone" without sound, is genuine diplomatic 
 in its nature, for being connected with noise- 
 less silence, it is of assistance in a thousand cases, 
 where a man of bo?i ton does not know what to 
 do with the other hand ; a case which happen! 
 but too frequently in the unbusied " great 
 world." 
 
 The predominant passion of the Portuguese, 
 " translated into Brazilian," made an article of 
 commerce of this instrument, which is '* im- 
 ported" from Europe in an incredible nundser of 
 boxes, with other Nuremberg toys, as a " very 
 important article." 
 
 The ambassador was just then playing th« 
 palito, beside the future Baroness de Spandau, 
 \ when the stamping of a horse's hool's was heard, 
 that had carried the baron from the city to Bota 
 Fogo. It is self-evident that Miss Susan could 
 not possibly receive the baron in the presence of 
 a third (and even diplomatic) person, under the 
 present (and to her never before happened) cir- 
 cumstances, notwithstanding the State of Silencff 
 j which this person represented. Miss Susan 
 I therefore left the ambassador, w^ith a short " beg 
 pardon," and hurried by the sweet scented 
 shrubbery, through the park, into a side wing, 
 and through all sorts of doors and passages, t* 
 her chamber in the main building of the VilU 
 Thomson. 
 
 Mr. Thomson had delivered Miss Susan'i 
 reply to the baron personally, early in the morn- 
 ing, who, at her slightly intimated wish, sent a 
 written word by his negro on horseback, to hii 
 bride, at eleven o'clock in the forenoon of the 
 same day. 
 
 So Mis? Thomson had something written, 
 something legal, and legally binding on the part 
 of her betrothed, which, if necessary, could bo 
 made valid " before court." 
 
 Far be it that Miss Susan in the least feared 
 such a case of the future. By no means. But 
 experience showed so many unfortunate cases, 
 that a young girl, dechu'ed by this or that man 
 to be his bride, and then deserted by the bride- 
 groom, had become a subject of conversation at 
 the expense of her good name ; a tragic contrast, 
 to being a subject of conversation, to the ac- 
 knowledgement of her fair fame as a betrothed. 
 For it is entirely undeniable, that the good 
 name of a young girl is never established more 
 brilliantly than by her betrothal. 
 
 The baron ran through the principal alley 
 without noticing the ambassador, whom he per- 
 haps saw. The latter was possible, fui- his ex- 
 cellency was " visible " as he hurried by hiin at
 
 «90 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 a -short distance. But the baron did not notice 
 any Ambassadorship, when he hastened into the 
 villa, and a negro in livery conducted hiti to 
 Miss Susan's private apartment. The " written" 
 assurance of the betrothal on his |)art had taken 
 place, and the betrothal " by mouth" was now to 
 be celebrated. How a betrothal after the English 
 custom is celebrated by mouth, is to us a diplo- 
 matic secret. The materials of our novel observe 
 a strict diplomatic silence upon tliis point. 
 
 The auib.issador wallied from the park back 
 into the green parlor, where, according to Bra- 
 zilian custom, various kinds of wine, and also 
 water, stood upon a small table, for the general 
 use of the visiters who might go in and out. 
 This Brazilian " going in and out" of the visit- 
 ers was not exactly an English custom, and 
 contradicted the closed garden gate, fastened 
 with thick English bolts. But on this particular 
 day, the Brazilian table of refreshments was 
 loaded in proper order. The ambassador did 
 not, indeed, like the Brazilians, (for they were a 
 rebellious nation, and he was the ambassador of 
 several monarchies,) but he liked many Brazil- 
 ian customs, and likewise the Madeira, and port, 
 and sherry, in the clear shining crystal decan- 
 ters upon the small table. 
 
 He went to the small table, did his best, " pour 
 passer le temps," and had scarcely entered the 
 park again, when the Baron de Spandau pre- 
 sented his betrothed bride to him. 
 
 What an event in Miss Susan's life of forty 
 years ! — She was not only the future Baroness 
 de Spandau, but was presented, as such, to His 
 Excellency, the Resident Minister of "his Trans- 
 parent Highness " the Prince of Kniphausen. 
 It was clearly one of the most interesting sub- 
 jects for an article of " high life" of any English 
 court newspaper, at least the most interesting 
 article tor iVIiss Susan Thomson. 
 
 Towards four o'clock tlie blue coach rolled up 
 to the garden gate. Mr. Thomson had ridden to 
 the Gloria, according to agreement, where he had 
 taken in Dr. Thorfin, Captain Hinango, and 
 Robert. Immediately after them appeared the 
 invited clergyman, the Revereud, in a dusty hired 
 cab. 
 
 The introduction act of the bride and bride- 
 groom — of his Ambassadorship, of the condemn- 
 ed Russian ex-naval officer, and of the clergy- 
 man, was performed with all ceremony. 
 
 His diplomatic excellency, the ambassador who 
 had been invited to this dinner, was introduced 
 to the other guests, as his Excellency, etc. He 
 was, as such, to take a seat of honor at the table, 
 (as a personified diploma, to increase the re- 
 spectability of the house,) had of course per- 
 formed his first duty, an<l now waited with a 
 certain legitimate right for the second service, 
 the dinner itself, that should do him its service. 
 The atl'air was quite in order, and no " Interven- 
 tion " was to be feared. 
 
 The clergyman was a minister of the Church 
 of England, et voila tout. He represented the 
 " Church " — which (as is said in Eaust) " has a 
 large belly, and has already devoured whole 
 countries." The meagre English clergyman, 
 (like so many others, treated by the mother 
 church, with all her fat bishops, in a very step- 
 motherly manner,) had likewise a legitimate 
 right to await the betrothal dinner, for he had 
 been invited to it. 
 
 Mr. Thomson went off for a moment to ar- 
 range his toilet, and then appeared again in the 
 park, and on his arm also appeared iiis neice. 
 Miss Fanny Walker, from Buenos Ayres, whom 
 he introduced to the ambassador and to the 
 clergyman, and who also made a most gracious 
 and sfiti* courtesy to Iier former travelling com- 
 panion. Captain Hinango. Her right hand trem- 
 bled to be reached to her intimate friend and pro- 
 tector, and to press his — but it must remain by 
 her side without accomplishing it — for Mi.ss 
 Fanny was an English woman, and a solemn 
 scene of introduction of entire " strangers " was 
 taking place about her. All eyes were directf"d 
 upon her — she must remain " Miss Fanny," and, 
 as such, look belbre her. 
 
 Robert alone had the right to .«tep up to her, 
 to shake her hand, and to ask, with all hearti- 
 ness, ** how do you do, Fanny ?" for he was her 
 brother, whom Mr. Thomson, to-day more than 
 ever, wished " to the devil," notwithstanding he 
 was his own nephew. 
 
 A large genuine English bell sounded, and the 
 company went into the green parlor, the future 
 baroness on the arm of her baron. Miss Fanny 
 on the arm of old Mr. Thomson, (who was not 
 certainly so very old,) "Church and State" 
 walked beside each other, and Dr. Thorfin arm 
 in arm with Hinango. The seats were occupied. 
 Corinna stood behind the chair of her mistress, 
 Acliilles behind that of Hinango, and behind 
 every guest was stationed a negro in livery, for 
 the green parlor was very spacious. A turtle 
 soup a la Faroux opened the dinner. 
 
 The ambassador suffered from a weak stomach, 
 and had a tumbler of Madeira poureii out for him, 
 j before taking the soup. That was quite in order, 
 'auddid not increase the bill. At first the conver- 
 sation was dull, as usual at every first " course" 
 of a diplomatic dinner. After a while a word 
 was taken up, and became a thread of social dis- 
 course about the various events of the da}', which 
 did not particularly interest any one, least of all 
 the two betrothed, whom henceforth (as a future 
 married couple) nothing interested — nothing in 
 the wide world but themselves. 
 
 " How are you getting along with your coloni- 
 zation in St. Cat.Harina .' does it go on well .' il 
 1 may ask .'" inquired tlie ambassador, of the 
 master of the house, after he had, during a full 
 quarter of an liour, done his part at the table 
 with diplomatic silence, and let his jaws rest a 
 little, in order to commence again all the better. 
 
 " Pretty well," replied Mr. Thomson. " Two 
 ships are now loading at Antwerp ; they will 
 bring out laborers, and there is one ship in 
 Liverpool, which will take on board necessaries 
 for the colony ; and we now expect our main 
 geologist, or engineer, i\lr. Closting, whom you 
 perhaps know by name. I even believe that he 
 will come to-day." 
 
 Robert had just then a pair of turkeys (a male 
 and female) before him, in violet s.iuce, a la 
 Duchesse de Kent, to carve, and tore apart with 
 real fury the artificially enfolded wings, which 
 the cook had unnecessarily locked in each other 
 His youtliful brow was drawn up in wrinkles on 
 account of the ditiiculties of separating the 
 vexatious wings. 
 
 " 1 have heard of him," answered the diplo- 
 matist, in a tone of indifference. 
 
 " He is said to be a skilful roan of business, «
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 29t 
 
 Mtiart feKow, " observed Dr. Thnrfin, with a 
 sharp glance at Robert, who worked away at 
 separating the wings of the turkeys. 
 
 '* A remarkable man," assorted the baron, " a 
 man of much talent, of .solid learning, and of 
 respectable connexions here at court, as I hear." 
 
 " That is easily understood," exclaimed Mr. 
 Thomson, " II would besides he a great pity, if 
 «uch a man was not prized for his business 
 talent. As to the rest," he added, with a pecu- 
 liar tone, " as to the rest, I do not know him, 
 except in my bnsine.ss transactions with him in- 
 directly, throui:h his partner. Otherwise I am 
 not acquainted with him at all." 
 
 By this explanation Mr. Thomson protected 
 himself from every ajip'earance of being con- 
 nected with a man, concerning whom this and 
 that report was ado.it, whereby he maintained his 
 British principle, " a business acquaintance is 
 no connexion. 
 
 " You will probably soon undertake a journey 
 to Santa Cathavina, yourself," the ambassador 
 again asked. "It is called one of the finest 
 provinces of Brazil, as I hear." 
 
 " It is a wonderful country, a paradise, a real 
 paradise,"' asserted Mr. Thomson ; " I shall make 
 a journey there — in about five or six weeks — or 
 in two months — when it is a little cooler. I shall 
 lake Miss Fanny then ; she has seen but little of 
 Brazil yet. You vi'iU accompanyme, Miss Fanny, 
 will you not.' to .Santa Catharina ?" 
 
 " It will certainly be very agreeable to me to 
 accompany you," replied the niece with British 
 prudishness. 
 
 " It will certainly be very agreeable to me to 
 accompany you !" repented Mr. Thomson silently 
 to himself, for he placed much in these words — 
 much — very much ! if one should rightly con- 
 sider the " To accompany you." What was 
 there not in these words ? And then even, " It 
 will be very agreeable to me !" In fact, Mr. 
 Thomson could not expect a more satisfactory 
 answer. 
 
 " Then we will travel together, my future 
 brother-in-law 1" exclaimed the bridegroom ; 
 " will we not my dear .'" (said he, turning to his 
 bride,) " and celebrate our wedding in Santa 
 Catharina !" 
 
 If a virgin face was ever suffused with a legiti- 
 mate purple red, or ever smiled with joyful self- 
 satisfaction, that face was Miss .Susan's, for she 
 had a legitimate right to blush, and she had 
 waited long enough for that right — that God 
 knew. 
 
 "An excellent idea," said Mr. Thomson, laugh- 
 ing, with an inquiring look at Miss Fanny — 
 inquiring so far as she was to give her consent 
 to accompany them to Santa Catharina. "If it 
 suits you, in about two months. Miss Fanny ?" he 
 now asked with a certain exacting decision. 
 
 " I shall always gladly accompany you, dear 
 ancle !" was her answer, and Mr. Thomson 
 seemed more than content, apart from the fatal 
 " dear uncle," an appendix that the circumstan- 
 ces of her present incognito indeed very natu- 
 rally made requisite. 
 
 " It shall be areal journey of pleasure !" he ex- 
 claimed, and filled himself a glass. The am- 
 bassador, (as a matter of course, well acquainted 
 with English customs,) had immediately after the 
 first course " requested the honor " to empty a 
 glass to the health of the lady of the house. Just 
 
 as little did his ambassadorship neglect to drink 
 to Miss Fanny's health, and as there was no other 
 lady present, his ambassadorship afterwards 
 drank Mr. Thomson's health, and Robert's health, 
 and Dr. Thorfiu's health, and so on, with and 
 without " health," as many times as he was rep» 
 re.sentative of courts that salaried him. 
 
 " To our prosperous journey to Santa Catha- 
 rina ! Miss Fanny," exclaimed Mr. Thomson, 
 and cast a glance at his niece, that expressed as 
 much " uncleish" satisfaction as an old widower 
 ever cast at a young lady. 
 
 Miss Fanny nodded a tender Engli.sh approval. 
 
 " .And you must go along Robert," exclaimed 
 Mr. Thomson, as he emptied his glass to the last 
 drop ; " you must go too, and must look you 
 up a bride by that lime, and we will make a 
 wedding — we will "celebrate" a wedding, I 
 would say — Aunt Susan's wedding and yours, at 
 the same time !" 
 
 Robert blushed again and again. Dr. Thorfin 
 looked him sharply in the eye. Hinango, who 
 sat by him, remarked that the youth trembled. 
 " 1 will naturally go with you," he replied, and 
 endeavored to conceal his embarrassment, " if 
 my sister goes ; I never separate from her, you 
 know that uncle ; and if you were going to Con- 
 stantinople altogether, I would accompany my 
 sister " 
 
 Dr. Thorfin cast a glance at Hinango ex- 
 pressing all they had said before dinner in relation 
 to Robert's accompanying on such a journey. 
 
 Mr. Thomson had long since felt all personal 
 security in regard to his purpose, as he had more 
 than sufficiently convinced himself that Robert 
 was any thing but his rival, what he had once 
 feared ; notwithstanding, he could not bear to see 
 him press Dolores' hand. 
 
 " You will leave us soon too, captain ?" Thor- 
 fin asked his friend Hinango, to give him an op- 
 portunity to intimate that he would leave the 
 field clear for the baron. 
 
 " I shall probably return to Hayti in about a 
 fortnight, he replied in a conversational tone. 
 My ship is getting fitted out gradually, and will 
 increase our unpretending fleet of the negro re* 
 public. 
 
 " You have been long in the service of the 
 Haytian repulilic, if 1 may ask .'" said the baron 
 to him, with the mildest tone imaginable as 
 bridegroom. 
 
 " Ever since I left the Russian service, baron," 
 was the unsatisfactory answer. 
 
 " It will be best to determine immediately 
 the day of our departure to Santa Catharina !" 
 exclaimed Mr. Thomson, as the champagne wa* 
 poured out ; " we are now in the middle of Jan- 
 uary — then comeS February, March — we will 
 appoint the 1.5th of March as the day of our de- 
 parture from the Bay of Rio. We will take some 
 convenient vessel. I have, besides, a cargo to 
 load for my colony there, and after to-morrow I 
 will make my arrangements accordingly. Have 
 any of you any thing against it, gentlemen and 
 ladies.' the l.'5th of March, under sail for .Santa 
 Catharina ? He addressed the four relations with 
 this parliamentary proposition, (in.ismuch as tha 
 baron might be included amongst them) and no 
 particular contradiction appeared upon the coun- 
 tenances of any one. On the contrary, the baruo 
 joyfully gave his assent, and Miss I-'anny's coua* 
 tenance could very naturally express no denial
 
 3S2 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 She wag: her uncle's niece, the child of the 
 house, for whose pleasure this proposition was 
 originally made. 
 
 " So it is agreed upon," he repeated. " We 
 will sail on the 1.5lh of March, and His Reverence 
 cen by that lime have provided us with a worthy 
 cleriryman for our ccJony at Santa Catharina, as 1 
 requested you to do this very morning — " he con- 
 tinued, turning to the clergyman, who had nntil 
 then eaten and drank more than he had talked. 
 
 " If I am not mistaken, there has been an 
 English clergyman for some time at Santa Cath- 
 arina, or at least at the islanfJ of that name — a 
 missionary," he repeated slowly and in a dry 
 pulpit manner. " But I shall, nevertheless, not 
 omit to do my best, at your command, for the 
 extension of the gospel and our High Church," he 
 added as slowly, and worked on at the pudding 
 that had been served up in its turn. The con 
 versation became more lively; the ".journey of 
 pleasure" afforded abundant materia). 
 
 Robert sat as if upon coals — he would have 
 wished that the long sitting at table had been 
 shorter, and yet — a thought penetrated him — 
 perhaps now — perhaps at that vei-y moment Mr. 
 Closting had returned home— and the woman 
 who had once breathed in hisear " for eternity 1" 
 lay perhaps in the arms of a man whom he 
 wished in England, that he might "transact bu- 
 
 Biness" with whom he liked. 
 
 Hour alter hour passed at table. At last the 
 ladies retired, according to English c^tstom, and 
 the drinking was to commence. But if was a 
 betrothal dinner, and the baron soon followed 
 his bride into the garden. Robert found occa- 
 sion thereby to rise, and likewise to accompany 
 his friend Hinango to the open air. Dr. Thorfin 
 " stuck" to the table, that the whole company 
 should not go out in the air, where Hinango and 
 Dolores might at least say a few words to each 
 other. 
 
 The bride and bridegroom walked about the 
 "labyrinths" of the park, and Dolores enjoyed 
 the society of a confidant, vi-ith whom she had 
 until then lived almost uninterruptedly in spirit, 
 for she prcfiared with him the literary expedi- 
 tion to Rio Grande, which was carried to and 
 fro between both by Dr. Thorfin. Her first 
 inquiry concerned Horatio, the favorite of her 
 Boul, the boy who had become a man at the 
 •catlold of his relatives, and whom she would 
 ■0 gladly have seen from time to time. 
 
 Hinango answered the question dictated by 
 the warmest friendship, as explicitly as he 
 could, and then proceeded with compressed 
 brevity, on account of the danger of being dis- 
 turbed by the old widower, to the disclosure of 
 a plan concerning the future of Dolores, that he 
 bad consulted about with Horatio and Dr. Tlior- 
 Cn before the blue coach took them in. " Dr. 
 Thorfin," said he, " will communicate much to 
 jou, when^ou next see him, in relation to your 
 position here in Rio. You must depart; and 
 no better opportunity could present itself than 
 Mr. Thomson's projected journey to Santa Ca- 
 tharina. Horatio wilt soon go to Celeste in Rio 
 Grande. Get your letter ready for him. The 
 province of Rio Grande is for the present secure 
 from subjugation on the part of monarchy. 
 Vouwill find an asylum there with some res- 
 pected family of the country, unless you should 
 prefer Monte Video. 1 shall go to sea in a fort- 
 
 night, and shall steer forBahia, in arier to ■Vffi 
 off the espionage that watches us. Celesta 
 stands in Rio Grande at the head of a patriotic 
 committee, and at his request Barigaldi will 
 cruize before Santa Catharina with the Maz/.mi, 
 where I will join him, and take you on board, 
 to assist you to Rio Grande or Monte Video 
 This is our plan for your deliverance. You are 
 in danger here; but compose yourself— fear no- 
 tliing. ' Robert will accompany you. Achilles 
 uiul-emain with you ; and the stout Irishman, 
 who took the cutter on the river La Plata, will 
 likewise be near voi! in Robert's service, if ne- 
 cessary to collar the baron. You know his po- 
 sition ? I mean the bamn's !" 
 
 "Can it be possible? is he a spy.'" asked 
 Dolores, in as low a voice as Hinango had spo- 
 ken to her. , a- J 
 
 " As certainly as I am Hinango," he affirmea, 
 
 " And 1 will' do my duty that the scoundrel 
 shall never become my uncle," whispered Ro- 
 bert. " I will accompany you, Seiiora Dolores, 
 to Rio Grande, or to Monte" Video; there is my 
 hand upon it." 
 
 " You consent to our plan, then," Hinanga 
 again asked. 
 
 " Entirely ! to all that you have resolved upon 
 and shall command for my deliverance," replied 
 Dolores, and pressed the hands of both. 
 
 Mr. Thomson just then came around the cor- 
 ner of some shrubbery with the amli^issador, and 
 considered it very superiliwus that Miss Fanny 
 should give Captain Hinango her hand in con- 
 versation. . , 
 
 Coffee was presented, according: to Brazilran 
 custom, and the company amused themselves 
 with all unconstraint at the celebration of the 
 betrothal. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The company at Bota Fogo remained together 
 until late, tor a cheerful, social tone prevailed, 
 notwithstanding the different elements of which 
 it was composed, or, perhaps, for the very rea- 
 son that it was composed of such diflerent ele- 
 ments, and each one sacrificed himself for the 
 company. The ambassador even became talk- 
 ative towards Hinango, and spoke of his former 
 social relations, which were no secret in Rio. 
 
 Towards midnight the blue coach and a cab- 
 riolet, with Mr. Thomson's livery, took the guests 
 to the Gloria, and into the city. 
 
 Robert made use of his gate key with a throb- 
 bing heart. He found all in the garden dead and 
 silent ; no light inGracia's pavilion, who had, on 
 no former evening, retired to rest without bid- 
 ding him " good night," 
 
 The negress Anna appeared with a lamp to 
 light Robert's candle with. 
 
 " Senhora Gracia has gone to the city ; Senhor 
 has come," remarked Anna, and looked npon 
 the ground, for she did not venture to read ths 
 effect of her words in Robert's countenance. 
 
 The poor old negress had a heart. Theyoulll 
 trembled — a shudder passed over him
 
 DOLORES 
 
 29$ 
 
 "Well, Anna, go to bed, I have matches, I 
 win light my candle myself," he replied, and 
 Anna wished him good night. 
 
 '* Good night," he repeated, partly in reply to 
 the well meant wish, partly speaking to himself, 
 and entered his pavilion. " 1 would not wish 
 my worst enemy a good night like this — and 
 those which are tn folUiw I" he sighed. 
 
 A visiting card hiy upon his desk, with the 
 inscription, " JVIr. Forro &, Co.," and under tljis 
 was written, with a lead pencil, "Mr. P. C. L. 
 riosting." 
 
 So the husband of his female friend had ta- 
 ken his wife away, and had already learned 
 I'rom Mr. Forro that Rubert was her neiglibor, 
 that he was the same Mr. Walker with wliom 
 his partner, and he likewise, (uf course,) were 
 doing bijsiness. 
 
 So far all was in order. 
 
 He went to his closet, and found a white rose 
 upon his dressing table. It seemed to be a natural 
 one. Robert raised it up to enjoy the scent, and 
 found it singularly heavy. It was one artilicially 
 arranged from Cacadu leathers, but how could 
 the Cacadu feathers be so heavy > He examined 
 it, and discovered that the cup of the irmer 
 leaves could be taken out ; he took it out, and a 
 ring fell upon the floor, with the inscription, 
 " Gloria." 
 
 It was a name he had given his female 
 friend, as he jestingly called her " Nossa Senhora 
 da Gloria." The gift and the symbol agitated 
 him ; he followed the conne.vion of ideas, and 
 the image of his beloved, which was never absent 
 from him a second, appeared to him in spirit, 
 in the arms of a man. 
 
 It was late — past midnight. His fancy wan- 
 dered to the reality which surrounded his friend. 
 He put the ring on his hand ; the blood seemed to 
 leave his veins ; he stared fixedly about him — his 
 eye caught the pistol which, loaded as usual, 
 hung by his bed. He thought of his duty in 
 
 regard to the deliverance of Dolores and 
 
 trembled. 
 
 At last he threw himself in an arm chair be- 
 side his bed, in which he was still sitting when 
 the morning dawned upon him. 
 
 &.#.^^.#>tfVM — 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE HAPPY MARRIED COUPI.E. 
 
 Patrick had brought back the letter to Sally, 
 and talked a great deal to her. She now learnt 
 from him, for the first time, as circumstantially 
 as he coiild relate to her, who the young lady 
 was whose life was in danger; to whom the 
 baron was betrothed ; and nearly what sort of a 
 man Hinango was — whose life was the next 
 subject of consideration. 
 
 " if a nagur was to be hired for two patacks 
 to stab him," said Patrick, " be Jasus and I'd as 
 lave take the strike nieself, to kape it alf from 
 Captain Hinango. 1 tell you wh.it. Miss Caro- 
 line, that same's a jintleman quite intirely ; in 
 troth, a rale sailor, I tell you, as iver walked the 
 <Juarter deck in navy uniform, and cast a ' keep- 
 coarae ' to the maa at the helm into the compass. 
 
 " And now couldn't you give ns a hint about 
 what goes on here fornenst, and I'll give you a 
 chance to make reports to the baron, so as he 
 shall niver be the wiser but you're spying me all 
 the time." 
 
 " Patrick," interrupted the poor girl, " I have 
 yet a commission to give yo«. If I should re- 
 solve to see Ca|)tain Hinango or Dr. Thorfin, it 
 would be because 1 seek their protection, to re- 
 turn with some family to E\irope ; but it must be 
 with a family, and not alone, .^nd that I can 
 do only through the recommendations of such 
 men as the two friends, as they will grant me the 
 necessary confidence, bi which I may perhaps 
 lay claim, after all that the friends have until 
 now learnt from me and by me." 
 
 " And faith, its that same they'd be glad to do, 
 itherof 'em, the captain or Dr. Thorfin, if so be 
 they can ; and sure I'll send 'em word all about 
 it be Lucy, for I'll not be going there meself, or 
 the baron'd be alter finding out that it's under a 
 false flag I'm sailing." 
 
 " Can you rely upon Lucy, Patrick ?" 
 
 '* Is it Lucy ? be Jasus, Miss Caroline, and 
 I'm sure of her as I am uf Ca|it.iin Hinango! 
 She's niver been a navy o0icer, to be sure, like 
 him ; hut I know her heart like me <nvn pocket 
 — and troth that's often empty ; and 1 know 
 Lncy right well, and that's the truth. Miss Car- 
 oline; and I'd thrust her wid Ihe whole red- 
 haired Pat (ientleboy ; and its good care she'd 
 be taking of him, be day and be night !" 
 
 Sally could hardly restrain a smile, although 
 she was by no means in a situation which was 
 calculated to excite one. 
 
 ■' Well, Patrick," replied she, " then commu- 
 nicate, by Lucy, to Captain Hinango and Dr. 
 Thorfin, what I have told you. Lucy may come 
 to fetch work from time to time, and in this way 
 she can give you intelligence." 
 
 " And that's thrue for you, ma'ra and so I 
 know now what course I'll be steering; and 
 shure I'll not lave the helm till Captain Hinango 
 goes to sea wid the .^strata. Farewell, Miss 
 (Caroline — but stop a bit — and shure you'll not 
 be going away from this so long as Captain Ili- 
 nango's here. We must both of us sarve the 
 baron, and he must 3.\rve us 'till the young lady 
 and all the lave of them have clawetl out of the 
 I'larbor. We must hold on so long, be night and 
 be day !" 
 
 " 1 see that," sighed Sally, and Patrick took 
 leave and withdrew. 
 
 We pass over the events of the night which 
 took place after the betrothal and the return of 
 Mr. (iiosting, and find Robert on the following 
 morning in his othce in the Rua Direita, as pale 
 as death, porh.ips the result of a cold that he 
 might have taken in his uncle's park, at Bota 
 Fogo. 
 
 He was just then busied in correspondence in 
 relation to the colony at Santa Catharina, as two 
 gentlemen approached the grate of his " cage." 
 One was Mr. Forro, who introduced the other 
 to him as Mr. Closting. 
 
 Mr. Robert Walker looked up from his writing 
 pa|)er, and saw beside Mr. Forro a man whose 
 exterior manifested no prominent quality. He 
 was a short, robust, square built man, whose 
 piercing look roved about unsteadily. 
 
 " I am happy to make your acquaintance,"
 
 294 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 replied Robert, as he laid down his mother-of- 
 pearl penholder, and involuntarily turned the 
 rin^, which since a certain hour had remained on 
 his finger, and perhajis a little embarrassed him. 
 
 " I hear from inv v."ife that she has, for several 
 months, had the honor of living in yoar nei2;h- 
 borhood and under your protection, and 1 thank 
 you heartily for every attention which you have 
 shown her," said Mr. Clostinp;, in the polite 
 manner of a man of the world of some refine- 
 ment. 
 
 A slight bli7sh overspread Robert's counten- 
 ance — as is often the case where one hears a 
 compliment, and should answer it by another. 
 He arranged his reply as aptly as his present 
 situation, and the indisposition under which he 
 now labored allowed, which latter made his ut- 
 terance difficult. 
 
 " I yesterday took the lil>erty of leaving you 
 my card, when I brought aw.ay my wite, who 
 sends her respects, and requests that you will 
 dine with us to day. You must have become 
 acquainted with my house in the city, through 
 Senhor Forro.'' 
 
 Robert had a hard struggle to undergo. TTie 
 resolution ivliich circumstances forced upon him, 
 to avoid henceforth the friend from whom he 
 in spirit could never more be separated, wavered 
 at this hospitable invitation, at the thought of 
 seeing that friend again, although in the presence 
 of a man whose company was disagreeable to 
 him, and affected him as iron does a somnam- 
 bulist. 
 
 " I thank you," he replied, after a pause ; " I 
 thank you and your lady for your kind invitation, 
 and will take the liberty of calling. Please give 
 her my respects." 
 
 Mr. Forro now introduced the subject of 
 business, as far as it was necessary for them to 
 consult together, about many particulars of the 
 commenced enterprise. 
 
 Robert improved the opportunity to conduct 
 the two men of business into Mr. Thomson's 
 office, to ^'hom Mr. Closting was now likewise 
 introducelj. 
 
 The young man handed over the affair to his 
 uncle, and returned to his cage, to liis corres- 
 pondence. 
 
 Mr. Fitz, the air pump controlle* of their Im- 
 perial Highnesses the Brazilian Princesses, sat 
 this forenoon as usual in his large atelier, and 
 chanced to be again singing his favorite song : 
 *' No general has so powerful might," etc., 
 
 just as Dr. Thorfin and Hinango entered, who 
 visited him from time to time. " The captain of 
 the Astrala had confided some instruments to 
 him which he wished to have finished in a 
 short time. The everhsting good humor of the 
 astronomer lengthened out the conversation con- 1 
 cerning this and that, and at last the company 
 was increased by Mr. Closting, who saluted his 
 countrymen with much politeness, and related, 
 in answer to Mr. Fitz's inquiry in regard to the 
 interior of Brazil, what might interest him and 
 those present. 
 
 Mr. Fitz, among other things, questioned him 
 about the young man whom tlie natur.dist had 
 brought over as secretary from Kurope, and 
 heard that he had dismissed the " impertinent 
 fellow" full two months before from his service, 
 «nd did not know what had since become of him. 
 
 "He seemed, in other respects, to be an in- 
 telligent young man," remarked Dr. Thorfin 
 " of much talent, and very eager after knowl- 
 edge." 
 
 " He was, indeed, very inquisitive," said Mr. 
 Closting, sniiiing: " he concerned himself idto- 
 gether too much about things that did not belong 
 to him. Otherwise 1 do not deny hisgood qual- 
 ities — not at all." 
 
 To turn tlie conversation upon another sub- 
 ject, he informed them of a rarity that he had 
 brouglit with him — a diamond of the second 
 chiss that he had bousjht forgold dust. "Honor 
 me, gentlemen, all three of you," he added, 
 ** with your company at dinner to-day, and I 
 will make it a pleasure to show you the dia- 
 mond ; it is something very distinirnished !" 
 
 Mr. Fitz and Dr. Thoi-fin accepted the invita- 
 tion. Captain Hinaii'^o politely excused liim- 
 self, on the ground tliat he was unfortunately 
 obliged to go to Praya Grande, and should not 
 return until late in the evening — which the nat- 
 uralist ** much regretted." 
 
 Both had always stood upon the siniiular foot- 
 ing of social contact of two men who m\itu- 
 fually felt the most decided repulsion of Iheir 
 nature, and found no cause *' to break" with 
 each other, because they bid in fact never bee» 
 connected. Mr. Closting was but too weH 
 aware that Hinango knew of his " youthful 
 pranks," by wliich he had ac<pjire the name ot a 
 " second Cartouche," i)ut he likewise knew Hi- 
 nango's former position, and gladly improved 
 the opportunity to take him by the arm, in the 
 Rua Diieita and in the Rua do Ouvidur, to ai>- 
 pear intimate with hira, to usi; him as a folio to 
 his somewhat wormeafen reputation. 
 
 Robert incidentally told his uncle that he had 
 been invited to dine with Mr. Clostiig, and that 
 he had accepted the inviiation. " 1 don't like 
 that at all," replied the old Englishman, " and 
 would have been better pleased if you had de- 
 clined it. Never forget the ditTerence of c-ontact 
 with men in business and in intercourse. We 
 can do business with men, and we do business 
 with men, whose intercourse we must avoid, be.* 
 cause it would compromise us. You under- 
 stand me, Robert ; there lies the distinction." 
 
 " Is Mr. Closting's reputation then so bad?" 
 asked Robert, " that I must be embarrassed in 
 knowing him .'" 
 
 " My boy, I have informed myself sufficiently 
 about him, and know the history of his whole 
 life pretty accurately. If lie were not such a 
 thorough scoundrel as to know how to make 
 himself respectable, 1 would not have entered 
 into business with him. Besides, we are pro- 
 perly only in business with Mr. Forro; his name 
 IS not mentioned. The tricks tliat he has ])l:iyed 
 in Europe are whispered about here; but people 
 know to a certainty that he has three times be- 
 come bankrupt, in a skilful manner, in dif- 
 ferent provinces in the interior of tlie country, 
 and has cheated and stolen '* by note" — and 
 that's sufficient. But we would not do much 
 business in large places, if we only dealt with 
 peojile vviio enjoy an uiisnllied reputation ; we 
 should soon keep limited bool;s, my dear Rob- 
 ert. The commercial world in our days is com- 
 posed of very rotten elements, and the paper oi 
 a bill of exchange is olten efiected by the bad 
 odor of the man who endorsed it. .-Vs to your
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 295 
 
 iiitereoTiTse with Madame Clnstinf;, as a ncishbnr, 
 I have nothing a2;ainst that," he continued, after 
 a paune, " that is anotlier thins^ ; and you can 
 keep up ynur friendship with her, as before — 
 and — as I lately told ynu, you can marry her as 
 soon as she is divorced from Mr. Closting — I 
 have nothing ajainst it." 
 
 Robert sat down beside the old man, as if his 
 knees would break under him. He had never 
 f^iven the sliprhtest information to a living soul 
 in regard to his unfortunate relation. It was a 
 secret that he kept most sacredly ; but his Uncle 
 George appeared to have seen through it — and, 
 without violating it on his part, he could listen 
 to what his uncle had to say to him in confidence. 
 
 •* Yes, yes, dear Finhert ! th'it is my view — 
 and my advice ; and I repeat to you : endeavor to 
 bring about this affair ; go to work the right 
 way — declare yourself to the handsome wife, if 
 you have not done it long since — for I have long 
 ago remarked which way the hands pointed. 
 Propose to her to accompany you to Santa Cath- 
 arina. I will build you a bemtiful vilU there. 
 One of our house must live there, as general su- 
 perintendent of the colony. You are well fitted 
 for it. It is a paradise — the finest part of Brazil. 
 What the devil should hinder you from living 
 happily there, with a pretty young wife, who 
 has been a widow ?" 
 
 The magic picture of such a future (in con- 
 tradiction to his own previous views) entered 
 into Robert's soul and occupied his thoughts. 
 
 He savvthe possibility of such an existence, for 
 he presumed that Senhora Gracia's reciprocation 
 of his feelings originally rested upon the ground 
 of her moral dislike to Mr. Closting, and this 
 grountl seemed in part as logical as probable ; 
 for no wife would be able to swear love to an- 
 other man, unless she abhorred her husband ex- 
 cessively. Whether this logical conclusion is 
 true with the female sex, which generally em- 
 braces more contradiction within itself than 
 logic, may be left for the present undecided. 
 The inconceivable obstiiiacy with which Gra- 
 cia always endeavored to magnify the virtues of 
 her husband, when the least mention was made 
 of him, confused Robert in regard to all that 
 concerned this female and his own future. But 
 on the other hand he bore on his linger a symbol 
 which showed the bond of soul, louder than 
 words, and more plainly than any glance. He 
 resolved to do his best to clear up the matter, 
 as soon as possible. 
 
 " I will enter Mr. Closting's house in the city 
 to-day, and no more hereafter," he remarked to 
 those propositions, " and afterwards determine 
 if I will ever see Madame Closting again at Da 
 Gloria." 
 
 " I will answer for it that such will be the 
 case, dear Robert," replied the old widower; 
 " and if you should move to Praya Grande to- 
 to-day, Madame Closting would find the air 
 healthier there, and hire a villa near you day 
 after to-morrow. My dear Bob ! I have more 
 experience in such matters than you imagine ; 
 only act as if you would separate from your 
 friend, and you will see if she will be so easily 
 separated from you ; if she will, then she will 
 prove that she only led you around by the nose, 
 and ' trifled with you.' " 
 
 ** Trifled ?" repeated Robert, *' trifled with the 
 iife ol" a man ?" and he returned to his cage. 
 
 The dinner in celebration of Mr Closting's 
 arrival took place. 
 
 Robert appeared there, and found the married 
 couple sitting upon an elegant sofa, engaged in 
 cordial conversation. The lady was in a gala 
 dress, richly adorned after the Brazilian fashion 
 with gold chainB and diamonds, but was pecu- 
 liarly pale and changed, perhaps from the con- 
 trast of the ornaments, which he had not seen 
 her weir before. 
 
 She received Robert with all cheerfulness and 
 naivete, and when Mr. Fitz and Dr. Thorlin 
 made their appearance, she bestowed upon her 
 husband all the pleasing attentions and civilities 
 which an exemplary wife in the social world 
 owes, in Brazil as in other civilized countries. 
 Robert seized the first and last means of main- 
 taining his self-possession, by imagining to him- 
 self, as always, that his friend was a young girl, 
 that had never in her whole life kissed any man 
 but him He could have thrown any man out 
 of the door, who would have asserted that that 
 man** who searched into the mysteries of na- 
 ture " was the husband of the young girl, and 
 not her eldest brother. 
 
 But such a i>owerful and forced perversion of 
 the power of conception, seized upon and de- 
 ranged the nerves of the young man's brain, 
 more violently than he himself anticipated. 
 
 The naturalist showed his diamond to the 
 guests, and, at the same time, all the presents 
 which he had brought to his wile, and she 
 scarcelv found words to express her joy at the 
 extraordinary attention and providence of her 
 husband, and leaned upon his arm as if there 
 was not a more happy married couple in the 
 world. 
 
 After supper, Mr. Closting led the guests into 
 aside room, to admire a great variety of natural 
 curiosities, which he had likewise brought with 
 him. 
 
 Robert found time and opportunity to whisper 
 in his friend's ear, that, for particular reasons, 
 he would not again visit her at that place, but 
 that he would expect her iu her former neigh- 
 bourhood of Da Gloria, in case the symbol which 
 she had confided to him had its meaning, as h« 
 presumed, from the seriousness of her nature. 
 
 Gracia ap'peared surprised, and a little einbiu"- 
 rassed, and was about to give him a low answer, 
 just as Mr. Closting and Dr. Thorfin accident- 
 aHy came up. 
 
 " Do you not think, doctor," asked Madame 
 Closting, "do you not think that it would be 
 better for my health to keep my dwelling on Da 
 Gloria, at least to pass most of my time there ? 
 The air here in the city is more oppressive tome 
 than it ever was before." 
 
 " That is very natural," replied the physician, 
 *' the atmosphere on Da Gloria, and especially 
 where you reside, is certainly more beneficial to 
 your nerves than in any of these damp streeti 
 in the city. Mr. Closting will surely compre- 
 hend that, and not desire you to leave the pa- 
 vilion. 
 
 *' That is a matter of course," replied the hus- 
 band ; " you will live where you are now, and I 
 will move there likewise; it was my plan, and 
 1 hope that Mr. Walker will remain our neigh- 
 bor for the present," he added, looking at the 
 youth, who scircely heard what was said. 
 '* I shall hope so also," exclaimed the lad/
 
 «96 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 •' Senhor Walker will likewise remain constant 
 to our piann, that I will presume — will yo\i not, 
 Senhor W.Uker ? You will stay with us on Da 
 Gloria, and we will continue our piano pluy- 
 in"" ■'" 
 
 The voun? man now understood the drift of 
 the conversation, and answered, that he should 
 not remiin long in Rio, and therefore should 
 probably retain the dwelling until his departure 
 becau^e'he had a dislike lo " moving." 
 
 The ladv sought an indifferent subject as tlie 
 material tii interrupt the conversation, and was 
 as polite and friendly to Mr. Walker as her posi- 
 tion allowed. 
 
 The company separated after a few hours. 
 
 When Robert was taking leave, the lady re- 
 marked that she expected that very evening to 
 have the pleasure of executing with him a four- 
 hand composition, an indirect invitation, which 
 he accented. 
 
 Mr. Closting found young Mr. Walker's ac- 
 quaintance, and the business connexion with his 
 house, important in many respects, and made 
 use of both to conclude a new business, for he 
 «old the celebrated diamond to Mr. Thomson 
 •hortly after bis return, and received about 
 Ivventv-two contos for it. 
 
 Mr.' Thomson laid the jewel aside as his pri- 
 rate property, and intended to dispose of it ad- 
 vantageously' in Europe, as he_ contemplated, 
 •oon alter his marriage with Senora Dolores, to 
 ■ndertake a journey to London in her company. 
 
 - .^^^^^^4'fSC /s#^^.*vw»— 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MASS MEETING AT BIO GRANDE. 
 
 The province of Rio Grande, one of the most 
 interesting countries on the face of (he earth, 
 on account of its natural productions and pic- 
 tures^iue beauty, extends from the Atlantic 
 Ocean about four hundred miles into the inte- 
 rior, and five hundred miles along the c<ast, 
 from San Paulo and Santa Catharina, southerly 
 to the Banda Oriental, on the borders of which 
 is the principal port, Rio Grande do San Pedro, 
 at the entrance into the Lagoa dos Patos. 
 
 This province, originally settled by Vincent- 
 ists,* towards the close of the sixteenth century, 
 after the Indians had been forced to retire more 
 and more into the interior, became, from its po- 
 iition between the Spanish and Portuguese pos- 
 nessions, gradually peopled by emigrants from 
 both nations. It was a frequent cause of quarrel 
 between the two crowns, of which one was as 
 little able to enforce its claims as the other, 
 until Great Britain finally had pity on this para- 
 dise of the earth, and Sir Samuel Auchmuty 
 planted the British flag in the productive soil, 
 in the year ISOl. " The lessons in Spanish," 
 which the English received in Buenos Ayros, 
 the " exercises " of which were very legibly 
 written with their own blood, soon made this 
 possession uncomfortable for them, and they saw 
 themselves constrained to give it back to the 
 
 • BraziUaas from St. Viaceat. 
 
 " miserable Spaniards," from whose hands it 
 was finally transferred to Portugal, without any 
 actual consent on the part of the people. 
 
 There are provinces in all parts of the world 
 the population of which acquire a love of free- 
 dom and independence, as it would seom, from 
 the air, or the evaporation from the soil, or, God 
 knows how, which they manifest more than the 
 inhabitants of other countries, who are ex- 
 changed by this or that prince, in treaties of 
 peace, like wetliers and ewes, for otlier wethers 
 and ewes, and vegetate as exemplary " faithful 
 subjects," and think of any thing except " lib- 
 erty" or *' rebellion." 
 
 As the province of St. Paulo has, up to this 
 time, had the glory to unite that spirit of liberty 
 with an undeniable striving after intellectual 
 perfection, and exhibits a population that re- 
 minds us partly of (lie Spartans and Athenians, 
 and partly of the Swiss; the province of Rio 
 Grande is'also elevated to a like degree of moral 
 freedom, although tlie state of education among 
 the people does not indeed equal tiiat of the 
 Paolists. 
 
 The philosophical education of a Celeste, as 
 the librarian of a monastery in Buenos Ayres, 
 will not greatly surprise us, when we find se- 
 minaries and universities in St. Paulo, in which 
 the professors nursue various pliilosophical sys- 
 tems, as, for instance, Antonio Udefonso Ker- 
 reira, already at the beginning of our century, 
 transplanted Kant's system of philosophy, in 
 the Portuguese language, to Brazil. Tlie intel- 
 lectual life which undeniably characterises those 
 provinces, and manifests itself in so many forms, 
 opens to our view a world as original as .strange, 
 which may be more or less Ibreign to the north- 
 ern nations of transatlantic soil, because the 
 spirit of philosophy is not an article of com- 
 merce. 
 
 All the so called revolutionary movements 
 of South America since 1817, to which we have 
 before alluded, evidently proceed less Irom ma- 
 terial questions, than irom the spirit which is 
 there developed from itself, even though in 
 oppressed forms. 
 
 The inhabitants of the province St. Paulo, 
 and in a measure their neighbors in Ilio Grande, 
 are famed tor their noble physical appearance, 
 as well as for their noble character, which 
 I shows itself in evei-y contact, and cannot be de- 
 ' nied by tlieir bitterest enemies. As the inhab- 
 itants of the province of Minas Geraes are dis- 
 tinguished for a certain fondness lor I'rench 
 luxury, and the imitation of refined European 
 manners, we find in St. Paulo and Rio Grande 
 the simplicity of patriaichal lite, which con- 
 tents Itself with solid furniture, made there 
 from the wood of the couulry. In accordance 
 with tlie e.xternal social forms which recom- 
 mend themselves by neatness and cleanliness, 
 we are met by an upright, open, frank, and 
 hearty manner of the serious inhabitants. 
 
 The population of St. Paulo and Rio Grande, 
 descendants of Spaniards and Portuguese, i.s 
 distinguished from those races in Europe by a 
 fresher blooming complexion and a taller shape 
 while that Spanish " grandeza" is retained, 
 which appears as " the respect of a man toward* 
 himself," and degenerates into ridiculous stitf- 
 ness where it is wanting and is spiritlessly imi- 
 tated.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 297 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 The contest about boundary and territory, 
 which has excitej the Spanish and Portuguese 
 provinces for centuries, and wag intended to 
 keep alive the national hatred, (by which mon- 
 archy seeks to isolate one people from another,) 
 disappeared of itself the more the spirit of lib- 
 erty was developed in the people. 
 
 While the Spaniards and Portuguese, wherever 
 they come in contact, meet each other with a 
 certain mutual distrust, both elements, in the 
 luxuriant and favored province of Rio Grande, 
 melted down into a harmonious efficient whole, 
 that had stood four years as a '* people," when the 
 schooner Mazzini had landed the passenger 
 Celeste in the neighborhood of the city Laguna. 
 
 The Brazilians of the province of Rio Grande 
 assert their sacred rights against the encroach- 
 ments of monarchy, with a similar decided re- 
 sistance as the Greeks once defied the Turks — 
 as the Circassians oppose the Russians — and the 
 Bedouins reject the " civilization" of the French. 
 We call this people the " Grandes," that we may 
 have a name for them when we shall hereafter 
 speak of them among the Paulisis, Orientals, Mi- 
 neiros, Cabocles, etc. 
 
 The standing article in the day's history of 
 Brazil at that period, was the famous "campanha 
 do sul," the campaign in the south, thai con- 
 eumed more " food for powder" than the Brazil- 
 ian monarchy could keep in the field. 
 
 One Brazilian man-of-war after another landed 
 in the principal ports, so called, " regular troops, 
 or standing army," which could not be brought 
 into rank and file from pure " irregularity," and 
 (as a biting irony on the word) could not ** stand" 
 upon their legs as an army. 
 
 We have already beheld a sample of Brazilian 
 permanentos in the interior of the country, at 
 the arrest of Signore Seratini, and can the more 
 easily give an idea of an entire army, consisting 
 of similar " barefoots" driven together, who hung 
 their shoes on their bayonets after their feet had 
 become so sore from marching that they could 
 not get thtm on again. 
 
 The province, as a country in a military point 
 of view, offered every advantage to the insur- 
 gents. The mountainous chains which extend 
 along the coast of Brazil, (in places at some dis- 
 tance from it,) from Para upwards beyond the 
 equator, penetrate several hundred miles into 
 the district of Rio Grande, to lake Patos, which 
 is about two hundred miles long, and, separated 
 from the oeean by a long tongue of land, offers 
 a single entrance. 
 
 The chief town, Rio Grande do St. Pedro, at 
 this entrance, remained for years in the pos- 
 session of the monarchical troops, but all en- 
 deavors on their part to put down the insurrec- 
 tion were as difficult as fruitless. 
 
 Extensive plains and hilly country, surround- 
 ed by high mountains, favored the movements 
 of the cavalry of the insurgents, who, so to say, 
 ** grown up on horseback," could await the ene- 
 my in the open field, and not only attack him 
 with the same weapons, but also with lazos, as 
 they would do to catch horses and oxen. 
 
 If the royalists attempted an invasion of the 
 coast, tlie landing was rendered difiicult by small 
 Tessels of war, like tlie schooner we mentioned; 
 for the troops had to disembark in longboats, 
 and frequently sustained a total defeat before 
 33 
 
 they reached land. The insurgents, on tlie other 
 hand, kept possession of all the small harbors, 
 which afforded them communication with other 
 provinces, and their rear was, as we may say, 
 covered by the mountains in which the "not 
 standing " army could not easily penetrate. 
 
 In connexion with these advantages, the 
 product of the country, celebrated for agricultu- 
 ral and grazing purposes, and favored by the 
 finest climate in the world, (whicli may be com- 
 pared to ttiat of Southern Europe,) afforded sub- 
 sistence and bestowed the blessing of peace dur- 
 ing the contest. 
 
 It often happened, under similar circumstances, 
 that a division of troops sent off from Rio Ja- 
 neiro, only brought an addition of force to the 
 insurgents, instead of strengthening the cause of 
 monarchy by victory. 
 
 The Brazilian government had long sought a 
 support in the German " food for gunpowder," as 
 we have mentioned in the course of this novel. 
 A traffic in human flesh was carried on, on the 
 coast of Germany, similar to that on the coast of 
 Africa, and the only difference between tho 
 slaves was — in their color. 
 
 As tragically as the Germans appear in many 
 chapters of the history of the world of the last 
 century, as sold hirelings, and have left behind 
 them in Europe and the New World blood-spots 
 which do not tend to the honor of the mass who 
 sold themselves to the service of tyranny ; the 
 German troops in Brazil, on the other hand, 
 stand in a better light. 
 
 A large number of individuals of disbanded 
 regiments had settled in Rio Grande, and built 
 up German towns and villages there, the popu- 
 lation of which were increased by prisoners of 
 war who went over to the cause of the people, 
 as well as by deserters who went over, " with bag 
 and baggage." 
 
 The imperial government had at that time 
 sent two other corvettes to Rio Grande do St. 
 Pedro, and several thousand men again took the 
 field " to put down the rebellion." 
 
 The insurgents remained quiet in their towns 
 and villages, awaiting an attack, while a strong 
 detachment of cavalry was posted behind hills 
 and woods, to fall upon the enemy's rear, if he 
 should again take a notion to show a naked spot. 
 
 We now enter upon the free soil of the bloom- 
 ing province of Rio Grande, in a region on the 
 shores of the Mambitubu, which in its character 
 clearly calls to mind the northern provinces of 
 Italy, where the Alps form a similar back 
 ground to fruitful plains and hilly country, as do 
 the Serros of the interior of Brazil, and towards 
 the east the Serro do Mar. 
 
 The insurgents had repulsed an attack of the 
 permanentos, and had returned victorious home 
 to their towns and villages. 
 
 Before a Venda in the neighborhood of the 
 flourishing village San Rafael, shaded by lofty 
 trees, rich in its fields and meadows, with mur- 
 muring brooks running serpentine through it 
 into the rushing river, there was a scene, attended 
 by all the liveliness of a revolutionary epoch. 
 
 A concourse of men, from nearly every nation 
 of Europe, and from all the provinces of Brazil, 
 which were united in a contest for life and death, 
 pressed upon each other. 
 
 Tali lean Mineiros, with oval expressive faces.
 
 298 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 in brnad brimmoH hats, spencers, and ponchos, 
 \n'j;h buckskin hoots heavily loaded with silver 
 sjnirs, ami with silver han<lles to their swords 
 and dais'ers, contrasted with the less lean Paul- 
 Ists, whose bhioming complexions, browned by 
 the sun in the long campanha, were visible in 
 a similar costume, no less heavily encumbered 
 with silver weapons. 
 
 Grandes, with long raven black hair, serious, 
 sharply defined features, appeared in the proud 
 carriage of their well shaped bodies, at the side 
 of innumerable shades of colored persons and 
 Indians, in strong contrast with the Brazilian- 
 bleached Germans and other Europeans, whose 
 hair was as variously marked in color as the 
 skin of the negroes, from the blackest Mosam- 
 biquc to the white-bred colored offspring of 
 whites and cahorles. 
 
 It was a Sunday morning, before the com- 
 mencement of a great mass meeting. 
 
 .\mong the so called '-heroes of the day" 
 was an " unknown" person, who some months 
 before had arrived in the schooner Mar.zini, at 
 the seaport town Laguna, from Patgaonia, and 
 since then had taken a part in the battles of the 
 people. .Ml sorts of questions passed around 
 from mouth to mouth, concerning the former re- 
 lations of a man whose outward appearance was 
 characterized by a solemn seriousness, joined 
 with that intellectual dignity which imposes 
 without intending it. 
 
 The unknown, our Celeste, had been wounded 
 by a ball in the left shoulder several weeks be- 
 fore, and had received careful attention at the 
 hands of a family on their plantation in the 
 neighborhood of the village St. Rafael. 
 
 A similar accident had befallen a German, 
 who had gone over from the imperial army, and 
 had fought the enemy at the side of the un- 
 known. But the wound of the German was less 
 important, and had confined him to his bed but a 
 short time. He was a mechanic, a blacksmith 
 by trade, a cavalry man by nature, and a repub- 
 lican from the spirit of the times, which lie had 
 acquired in different countries of Europe since 
 the revolution of .July. He was one of those 
 stereotype patriots of southern Germany of the 
 years ls;il-3J, " every inch a rebel," and capable 
 of evi'ry momentary sacrifice from pure love of 
 liberty. He was Mr. Wartling, a cousin of the 
 famous " tailor Preuss," proscribed in the states 
 of the Germanic Confederation for "demagoguish 
 princi|des.*' 
 
 He escaped to France, and sailed from Havre 
 dc Grace to Rio de Janeiro. When there, Mr. 
 Wartling had one evening, in patriotic poetic 
 enthusi.ism, d'*ank a glass of wine too much, 
 (althiMr.;|] he was generally extremely temperate 
 and abstinent,) and fell into the hands of the pa- 
 trol, who " packed him off," without lung ex- 
 amination, as titod for powder, to Rio Grande, as 
 had happened in Huenos Ayres to the two friends 
 Falsodo and Perezoso. 
 
 Mr. Wartling had been four years in the Bra- 
 zilian service, and was resigned to his fate. He 
 also Worked at his trade, learned Portuguese 
 with the aid of a grammar, in which he had long 
 acquired such a proficiency as even to propa- 
 gate republic.in ifi-'as in Brazil. 
 
 He was a man of strou" mind, a clear intellect, 
 Rnd a warm heart. He had long believed that a 
 smith like him had just as good a right to be a 
 
 " man " as the minister of state, " Vast Council- 
 lor," as he styled him, to whom the emperor had 
 presented a fazer.da with two hundred negroes, 
 and who corresjionded as an intimate friend with 
 Prince Metternich — which Mr. Wartling thought 
 superfluous. 
 
 Our blacksmith was as good a republican as 
 any that ever wore imperial unllorm, whether 
 Russian or Brazilian, and he was far more dan- 
 sjerous and injurious in his circle, to despotism, 
 as a demagogue, than many authors whose lan- 
 guage has been taken from them by censorship, 
 and who live in quiet upon a pension from court. 
 
 The owner or landlord of the I'azcnda, which 
 supported a brilliant reputation as a venda, was 
 likewise a German, formerly a sergeant in a 
 German battalion in Rio de Janeiro. 
 
 Mr. Bolz, as the fat landlord was called, just 
 then stood upon the veranda of his hotel, in con- 
 versaticm with Mr. Breit, the schoolmaster of 
 the village St. Rafael, to whom he WM telling 
 the " cursed adairof the Campo da Santa Anna," 
 at Rio de Janeiro. 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mr. Breit, 1 assure you, that my 
 hair stands on end when I think of it. I tell 
 you the damned negroes bore the fire of o\ir 
 closed square, let those drop by their siiles who 
 could no longer stand, and then rushed uoon us 
 without giving us time to load again ! and dis- 
 armed us, as God is my judge ! disarmed us I 
 and the half of our corps were left upon the 
 spot, killed with the butts of their own muskets, 
 stabbed with their own bayonets ! the damned 
 negroes, they were in a perfect fury against the 
 escravos brancos, as they called us. Yes, when 
 I think of it, I drink a glass cachaz to brace my 
 nerves !" 
 
 " Uncle" Bolz did as he said, poured himself 
 out a glass of cachaz and emptied it in memory 
 of " that cursed affair of the Campo da Santa 
 .\nna," just as Mr. Wartling joined them. 
 
 " Wei!, have you studied out your speech >" 
 his friend, Mr. Bolz, called to him ; " I am de 
 sirous to hear you, and what you will bring to 
 I market." 
 
 j " I will read something out of a popular Ger- 
 man book, that 1 have translated into Portuguese; 
 you will hear what it is." 
 
 " Is it any thing historical .'" asked the achool- 
 
 j master, a former German or Prussian student 
 
 'at Berlin, who had likewise taken up teaching, 
 
 after having been in the German legion in 
 
 Brazil. 
 
 " You arc one of those who keep to the letter 
 which deadens, who do not know the spirit 
 which gives life," said Mr. Wartllim, smiling. 
 I'M know you learned historians! It is indeed 
 something historical which I shall ofler, but not 
 out of Zschockke's history of the Wittelsbacher, 
 nor Raumer's history of the Hoheustauffen, nor 
 from the Prussian history of Frederick the 
 Great, the author of which also happens to be 
 called ' Preuss,' as if he had been baptized so for 
 that purpose; it is nothing of that sort, but 
 something historical about another king." 
 
 "Say nothing against Prussia and the Prus- 
 sian royal house ; I am a Prussian, and shall 
 continue so !" 
 
 " Then please to clear out of Rio Grande this 
 very day, yon double rascal you I a royalist and 
 a Prussian besides !" 
 
 The landlord laughed to split hit sides.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 299 
 
 " I was only jol<!n?, my dear Mr. Wartling," 
 replied the schoolmaster, much alarmed at 
 having, in his historical zeal, forj^otten that he 
 was for the time in Rio Grande, where many a 
 royalist had been hoisted up to a pine tree for 
 havina; opened his mouth too wide, and dis- 
 cussed royalist principles. 
 
 " Joke at Jacobi's, in Berlin, when you are 
 drinkine; your small beer, but here in Rio Grande 
 you had better keep your royalist principles to 
 yourself." 
 
 " But you will acknowledge the " historical 
 law," which most learned men in Germany con- 
 sider the first," cried the schoolmaster, who had 
 no idea of being silenced by a common smith. 
 You know there are several kinds of law, for in- 
 stance, the Roman law, and a law of succession, 
 the civil law, and the law of nature, a muni- 
 cipal law, and a historical law; and in conse- 
 quence of the historical law, we stand here upon 
 Prussian soil and ground." 
 ^ " What !" exclaimed the smith, " are you sea- 
 sick asliore; or are you out of your head .' what 
 kind of royal Prussian nonsense is that you are 
 talking .'" 
 
 " I am neither the one nor the other, but I 
 speak the real historical truth," replied Mr. 
 Breit. " You must know that a Prussian prince 
 ■was once to marry a Portuguese princess !" 
 
 " No, I don't know any thing about it,' replied 
 the smith. 
 
 " That I can excuse you for, for your histori- 
 cal studies do not seem to have been very ex- 
 tensive. But what is historical, remains his- 
 torical. The marriage did not taka place, because 
 the princess would not turn Protestant, or Prus- 
 sian — I say Prussian, for there is a royal Prus- 
 sian religion, and that is likewise historical, and 
 it has its church in Kio de Janeiro. Well, 
 Portugal endeavored to conciliate the Prussian 
 prince, and Prussian monarchy, after the mar- 
 riage had failed, and presented this province, 
 Rio Grande, to Prussia, as a compensation for 
 the unconcluded matrimonial alliance. That is 
 historical, and in print; and by historical, we 
 understand every thing that is related historical- 
 ly, under proper censorship." 
 
 " The devil you do !" said Mr. Wartling, 
 smiling, and listened to what he had further to 
 say. 
 
 " You see, Mr. Wartling, I am, to be sure, 
 here as a republican, as you may say, in the 
 service of government, as teacher, or professor, 
 as you wish; but for all that, my historical 
 knowledge is not to be called in question. This 
 province is Prussian, according to historical law 
 Tlie historical documents are in Berlin, and a 
 Prussian prince will, one of these days, come 
 out here and make good his claims, you may 
 depend upon it, and it will finally be all one to 
 the people whether they are Brazilian, Spanish, 
 or Prussian, as long as the historical law remains 
 in force." 
 
 " Are you possessed, Mr. Schoolmaster ?" ex- 
 claimed Mr. Wartling, " have you been drink- 
 ing too much cachaz ?" 
 
 The landlord again laughed until his sides 
 shook, and the smith continued : 
 
 " Schoolmaster, take care ! What you have 
 just said to me remains among ourselves ; but if 
 I should translate mto Portuguese to those Mi- 
 neiros or Paulists, what you have just been say- 
 
 ing, they would, as God is my judge, bring ycu 
 before a court-martial and hang you up — hang 
 you, until you woxild swing like a needle to the 
 thread, when a tailor holds it up." 
 
 The schoolma.ster saw that it was a serious 
 matter, and felt considerably uneasy in his royal 
 Prussian loyalty. 
 
 " Well, then," he said, " let it remain among 
 ourselves, and I will keep within my place until 
 Prussia make.s valid the historical law." 
 
 " You had better go to-day to one of the out- 
 posts of the permanentos, and have an imperial 
 capote thrown erver you ; it will become you 
 better than a poncho of the Grandes." 
 
 " There comes the hero from Patagonia," 
 exclaimed the landlord, looking in the distance, 
 and the people put themselves in motion to- 
 wards a hill, that was appointed as the place 
 from which the addresses were to be delivered. 
 
 Mr. Wartling and the landlord mounted their 
 horses, and likewise went to the place, where 
 the committee of arrangements were just then 
 receiving the unknown. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MONARCHY. 
 
 Lorenzo appeared on horseback in the dress 
 in which we have already seen him in Pata- 
 gonia, attended by officers of different detach- 
 ments in the picturesque costume of those pro- 
 vinces which would offer to the artist an inex- 
 haustible study for tableaux de genre. 
 
 Ladies on horseback, in the dark national 
 overcoat, with pointed black broad brimmed fur 
 hats and long black locks, at the side of others 
 in black mantillas ; their small feet in stirrups 
 made out of the horns of oxen ; their bridles 
 and saddles covered with silver; thick sheep- 
 skins, with long wool dyed in indigo, for saddle 
 coverings, or sitting upon tiger skins, whose 
 lively colors contrasted'with their dark dresses, 
 and the bright white of their horses — country 
 people in the costume of the last century, a kind 
 of Polish chamara, worked with lace, and but- 
 tons made from Spanish half and quarter pias- 
 tres, in shoes with broad silver buckles — Mi- 
 neiros and Paulists, in the before described 
 ponchos, part of them made from products of 
 the country, (like those of the Patagonians,) 
 part of them of a light blue color, with bright 
 red under-lining thrown over the arm ; in high 
 buckskin boots, buckled under the knee, and 
 projecting tar above the knee, forming a pocket, 
 out of which shone the silver handle of a dag- 
 ger ; silver spurs and stirrups of more than a 
 pound in weight ; high broad straw hats at the 
 side of the broad brimmed fur hats of the Pau- 
 lists — half savage mountaineers, of different 
 complexions, in (he costumes of their different 
 tribes, armed with bows and arrows : formed a 
 whole, in picturesque grouping, on the side of 
 a hill, that afforded a most charming prospect, 
 over blooming flax fields and meadows, to the 
 back ground of the gigantic mountains, which 
 traversed Rio Grande in all directions. 
 Tlie clear atmosphere of a sultry summer day
 
 300 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 in February, favored a festival that proceeded 
 frjm (he events of the times, whose spirit more 
 or less animated the multitude, who now, in 
 solemn silence, arrangied themselves on horse- 
 back and on foot, to hear the expected addresses. 
 
 The governor of the comarca appeared on 
 horsebaclt amons the gi^nlic jacarandas on 
 the top of the hill, accompanied by Celeste and 
 the smith, Wartling, and attended by an escort 
 that formed a sort of staif or festival committee. 
 
 The smith made the remark, tiiat a speecli 
 to a large public in the open air would be better 
 heard and understood if the speaker should stand 
 lower than the people, for sound went upwards, 
 and in the otiier case it would be lost in th^ air 
 above tlie public. 
 
 The governor thought this remark correct, 
 and its application very practicable. The whole 
 committee then descended the hill in great 
 order, and occupied a place in the mid.'^t of the 
 people, who now, being in a sort of amphithe- 
 atre, head above head, could see the speakers, 
 and hear their voices much better. The presi- 
 dent of the festival committee, an opulent fazen- 
 deiro, in his rich poncho, with a pointed fur 
 hat, his arms and his horse-trappings richly 
 ornamented with silver, now sjjoke in a low 
 voice with the governor, and then rode forward 
 to open the festival and address the people. 
 
 All eyes were now turned towards him, and 
 he seated himself in his saddle, and spoke • 
 
 " South Americans ! 
 
 " Citizens of the State of Rio Grande ! God be 
 with us, and victory to the republic ! 
 
 " We celebrate to-djy the restoration to health 
 of two men who have joined us from remote 1 
 countries of tiie earth, from pole and pole, and I 
 bearing arms with us in the contest for freedom i 
 and independence: 1 speak of the citizens Lo- 
 renzo Celeste and August Wartling." 
 
 A joyful iHVa interi'upted the speaker. He 1 
 waited until the hurrahing ceased, and then pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 " The citizen August Wartling, who has been 
 several years in South America, and out of en- 
 thusiasm for the cause of the people came over 
 to us from the ranks of the mercenaries, among 
 whom his hard fate had placed him against his 
 own will, has fought for years in our ranks for 
 the freedoni and independence of our state as a 
 future free state of South America ! August | 
 Wartling is a man from the so called " working I 
 classes" of the people, by which we understand 1 
 those who work with their hands, opposed to 
 those classes who do not work — or work rt'ith 
 money — and opposed to that most unfortunate I 
 class who cultivate the field of the mind, who | 
 live in the realms of thought, in a restless men- 
 tal activity, working for a future generation, 
 without recompense or prolit for themselves. 
 
 " Wartling appears here amongst us as the 
 representative of all those collected masses of 
 hand-workers, of all nations and countries, and 
 brings to yiiu the spiritual greetings of all his 
 brethren in distant Europe ! A representative of 
 the intellectual power will follow him." 
 
 Another loud viva resounded in the air, and 
 the president retired among the district commit- 
 tee. Smith Wartling gave his horse a pressure 
 with spur and bridle, and took the place which 
 the other had just left, seated himself comforta- 
 Llj in Ilia saddle, and spoke, saying : 
 
 " Republicans ! 
 
 " Free citizens of South America ! T first 
 thank you for the sympathy and the regard that 
 I have I'ound among you, es[)ecially since I was 
 wounded at the side of a man who will address 
 you after me." 
 
 A loud bravo interrupted the speaker, after 
 which he proceeded : 
 
 ** We here contend against the mnnarchical 
 principle opposed to us. Yonder, behind those 
 advanced posts, there stand the hirelings of the 
 empire, and their leaders assert the right ' by the 
 srace of God.' That you may know what mon- 
 archy is, and how monarchy was established, 
 which assumes its ri;;ht * by the grace of God,* 
 from the Bible, 1 will here read to you some 
 fragments from a little populnr book of ' Young 
 Europe,' ' The old history of king Saul 1' Give 
 heed and listen ! and take the word to heart." 
 
 He then drew out a manuscri}>t, and read in 
 the Portuguese language as folUiWS : 
 
 '* ' The people of God,' whose history contains 
 the documents of truth, were, from their com- 
 mencement, a people under popular govern- 
 ment, and we find no trace of monarchy in the 
 whole plan of creation. The people were gov- 
 erned by judges and the 'elders' among the 
 people, and no individual dared to step forward 
 with the impudent assumption of being called 
 ' by the grace of God' to be absolute ruler over 
 any nation. 
 
 Samuel, a venerable representative of the peo- 
 ple, whose historic writings have come down to 
 us, was a man of great wisdom, the son of a mod- 
 est. God-fearing mother. He was, as a child, in 
 favcu- both with the Lord and with men. His spi- 
 rit lived in the exalted knowledge of the Divine 
 Being, in immediate consultation with him who 
 had called him to be a support unto his jieople, 
 and endowed him with the everlasting light ot 
 reason ; and every thing that his reason sug- 
 gested to him, was considered by the people as 
 the voice of God ; and the people recognised in 
 the man the prophet the sage whose word 
 sounded as prophecy, as the oracle of the con- 
 ception of pure reason. 
 
 ' And all Israel, from Dan even to Beer-sheba, 
 knew that Samuel was established to be a pro- 
 phet of the Lord ; and the word of Samuel came 
 to all Israel. 
 
 ' And it came to pass when Samuel was old,' 
 as we read in the first book of Samuel, (ch. viii.,) 
 ' that he made his sons judges over Israel. 
 
 ' And his sons walked not in his ways, but 
 turned aside alter lucre, and took bribes, and 
 perverted judgement. 
 
 ' Then the elders of Israel gathered themselves 
 together, and came to Samuel unto Ramah, 
 
 ' And said unto him. Behold, thou art old, 
 and thy sons walk not in thy ways : now make 
 us a king, to judge us like all the nations. 
 
 ' But the thing displeased Samuel, when they 
 said. Give us a king to judge us. And Samuel 
 prayed unto the Lord. 
 
 ' And the Lord said unto Samuel, Hearken 
 unto the voice of the people in all that they say 
 unto thee: for they have not rejected thee, but 
 they have rejected me, that I should not reign 
 over them. 
 
 ' According to all the works which they have 
 done, since the day that I brought them up out 
 of Egypt even unto this day, wherewith ttejf
 
 DOLORES," 
 
 801 
 
 \ 
 
 liafe forsalten tne ; and served other gods, 90 do 
 they also unto thee. 
 
 ' Now, therefore, hearken unto their voice ■ 
 howbeit yet protest solemnly unto them, and 
 dhow them the manner of the king that shall 
 reign over them. 
 
 ' And Samuel told all the vs-ords of the Lord 
 nnto the people that asked of him a king. 
 
 • And he said, This will be the manner of the 
 king that shall rei^n over you : He will take 
 your sons, and appoint them for himself, for his 
 chariots, and to be h is horsemen ; and some shall 
 run before his chariots. 
 
 ' And he will appoint him captains over fhou- 
 gands, and captains over fifties, and will set 
 them to ear his ground, and to reap his harvests, 
 and to make his instruments of war, and instru 
 Inents of his chariots. 
 
 'And he will take your daughters to be con 
 fectionaries, and to be cooks, and to be bakers. 
 
 ' And he will take your fields, and your vine 
 yards, and your olive yards, even the best of 
 them, and give them to his servants. 
 
 ' And he will take the tenth of your seed, and 
 of your vineyards, and give to his officers, and to 
 his servants. 
 
 ' And he will take your men-servants, and 
 your maid-servants, and your goodliest young 
 men and your asses— and jiuf them to his work. 
 
 ' He will take the tenth of your sheep, and ye 
 •hall be his servants. 
 
 ' And ye shall cry out in that day, because of 
 your king which ye shall have chosen you ; and 
 the Lord will not hear you in that day. 
 
 ' Nevertheless, the people refused to hear the 
 foice of Samuel : and they said, Nav ; but we 
 will have a king over us ; 
 
 • That we may also be like all the nations ; 
 and that our king mav judge us, and go out be- 
 fore us, and fight our" battles. 
 
 The developement of mankind, then as incur 
 own time, did not advance equally among all 
 nations ; many heathen races were governed by 
 rude despotism, as entire nations are in our days. 
 The people of God appeared to be led astray by 
 the splendor of royal magnificence.— They de- 
 aired a martial leader in their warlike excite- 
 ment, one who would 'go out before them;' a 
 king. ' And Samuel heard all the words of the 
 people, and he rehearsed them in the ears of the 
 Lord,' (chap, viii., v. 21 ;) that is, he consulted 
 God, through the reason which enlightened him. 
 •And the Lord said to Samuel, Hearken unto 
 their Voice, and make them a king ; and Samuel 
 laid unto the men of Isreal, Go every man unto 
 his city.' 
 
 It would scarcely require an especial dis- 
 cussion to enable you to behold in the words of 
 the Lord his decided dislike to the monarchical 
 principle, after we attentively regard the above 
 objection as a formal threat. 
 
 The bitter declaration of Providence against 
 the voice of the people, who in their foolish 
 blindness desired a king, the decided answer of 
 the Lord to Samuel, ' They have not rejected 
 thee, but they have rejected me that I should 
 not reign over them,' manifests the strongest 
 resentment. 
 
 _ A time will come, said Samuel, and the na- 
 tions of the earth who acknowledge the word 
 of the Lord, shall sigh under the oppression of 
 the arbitrary rule of an enemy of the people, 
 
 and they will lament and despond, and will cry 
 to the Lord in their necil against their kintr whoso 
 unlimited power they have approved of; but the 
 Lord will not then hear them, but refer them to 
 his declared word, which they rejected and 
 would not respect, as they have rejected him, 
 that he should not reign over the nations of the 
 earth. 
 
 ' Nevertheless, the people refuseil to obey the 
 voice of Samuel; and they said. Nay, but we 
 will have a king over us,' etc. 
 
 ' And Samuel heard all the words of the peo- 
 ple, and he rehearsed them in the cars of the 
 Lord. 
 
 ' And the Lord said to Samuel, Hearken unto 
 their voice, and make them a king.' 
 
 And who was chosen in God's bitter irony, to 
 be king over the infatuated people .' The wisest 
 among the people, that he might rule for the 
 people in divine illumination of heart ? Nay. 
 
 The Lord in his anger had given his consent 
 to the stubbornly demanding people, and his in- 
 sulting justice gave the peo])le such a king as 
 the proud obdurate people deserved, that they 
 might learn what it was to oppose the will of 
 Provi'lence. 
 
 ' Now there was a man of Benjamin,' (chap, 
 ix., V. l,~, &c,,) * whose name was Kish, the son 
 of Abiel, the son of Zeror, the son of Becho- 
 rath, the son of Aphiah, a Benjamite, a mighty 
 man of power. 
 
 ' And he had a son, whose name was .Saul, a 
 choice' (elegant) 'young man and a goodly; and 
 there was not among the children of Isreal a 
 goodlier person than he: from his shoulders and 
 upward he was higher than any of the people.' 
 
 So this interesting young man, distinguished 
 by his — length of body, was chosen to be king 
 over an infatuated people, and his appointment 
 took place after the following manner, (chap, ix., 
 V. 3, &c. :) 
 
 'And the asses of Kish, Saul's father were 
 lost, and Kish said to Saul his son, take one of 
 the servants with thee, and arise, go seek the 
 asses. 
 
 ' And he passed through mount Ephraim,and 
 passed through the land of Shalislia, but they 
 found them not : and they passed through the 
 land of .Shallm, and there the.y were not : and 
 he passed through the land of the Benjamites, 
 but they found them not. 
 
 ' And W'hen they were come to the land of 
 Zuph, Saul said to his servant that was with him, 
 Come, and let us return ; lest my father leave 
 caring for the asses and take thought for us. 
 
 ' And he said unto him. Behold now, there is 
 in this city a man of God, and he is an honorable 
 man; all that he saith cometh surely to pass; 
 now let us go thither ; peradventure he can show 
 us our way that we should go.' 
 
 In this manner came, Saul the tallest and 
 choicest youth among the people, before the 
 prophet Samuel — he sought for some runaway 
 asses, and found crown and sceptre. 
 
 And when Samuel saw the elegant Saul, the 
 voice of the Lord spoke in his mind, ' Behold the 
 man whom I spake to thee of, this same shall 
 reign over my people.' (v. 17.) 
 
 And Samuel conversed with §aul, and invi- 
 ted him to eat with him, and quieted him about 
 his asses and said, (v. 20,) 
 
 ' And as for thine asses, that were lost tliree
 
 302 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 days ttf^o, set not thy mind on them for they are 
 found." 
 
 Thou hast instead of them found a kingdom, 
 with a great many asses. 
 
 And Samuel prepared the young man to be 
 be monarch over the chihiren of Israel, and took 
 a vial of oil, and poured it upon his head and 
 annointed him Iting. 
 
 And after all preparations had been made, 
 ' Samuel called the people together unto the 
 Lord,' (to divine service,) ' to Mizpeh ; 
 
 ' And said unto the cl)ildren of Isreal,' (chap. 
 x.,v. 18-26,) ' Thus saith the Lord God of Israel, 
 I brought up Israel out of Egypt, and delivered 
 you out of the hand of the Egyptians, and out ol 
 the hand of all the kingdoms, and of them that 
 oppressed you : 
 
 ' And ye have this day rejected your God, who 
 himself saved ynu out of all your adversities and 
 your tribulations ; and ye have said unto him. 
 Nay, but set a king over us. Now, therefore, pre- 
 sent yourselves before the Lord, by your tribes 
 and by your thousands. 
 
 ' And when Samuel had caused all the tribes 
 of Israel to come near, the tribe of Benjamin 
 was taken. 
 
 • When he had caused the tribe of Benjamin 
 to come near by their families, the family of 
 Matri was taken, and Saul the son of Kish was 
 taken : and when they sought him, he could not 
 be found. 
 
 ' Therefore they inquired of the Lord further, 
 if the man should yet come thither. And the 
 Lord answered. Behold he hath hid himself 
 among the stutf. 
 
 ' And they ran and fetched him thence : and 
 when he stood among the people, he was higher 
 than any of the people, from his shoulders and 
 upward. 
 
 ' And Samuel said unto all the people. See ye 
 him whom the Lord hath chosen, that there is 
 none like him among all the people .' And all 
 the people shouted, and said, God save the king ! 
 
 ' Then Samuel told the people the manner of 
 the kingdom, and wrote it in a book, and laid 
 it up before the Lord. And Samuel sent all the 
 people away, every man to his house. 
 
 ' And Saul also went home to Gibeah ; and 
 there went with him a band of men whose 
 hearts God had touched. 
 
 * But the children of Belial said. How shall 
 this man save us .' And they despised him, and 
 brought him no presents : but he held his 
 peace.' (v. 27.) 
 
 The public appointment of Saul to be king, 
 bears so strongly the impression of the tragic- 
 comic, that we are not surprised that some so 
 called ' sons of Belial,' whose perceptions were, 
 perhaps, clearer than those of the people, made 
 themselves somewhat merry at the new king. 
 
 The tribes of the people were assembled as 
 to a ' church parade,' as a foretaste of the mi- 
 litary method of government ; and the venera- 
 ble Samuel arose and addressed the people, and 
 repeated the threatening of the Lord : 
 
 ' Thus saith the Lord God of Israel : I 
 brought up Israel out of Egypt, and delivered 
 you out of the hand of the Egyptians, and out 
 of tho hand of all the kingdoms that oppressed 
 you, and subjagated you. And you have this 
 day rejected your God, who himself saved you 
 out of all your adversities, and your tribulations, 
 
 and ye have said unto him, Nay, bat set a. king 
 over us. 
 
 ' Now, therefore, present yourselves before 
 the Lord, by your tribes and by your thousands.' 
 
 This terrible voice of the Lord from the 
 mouth of Samuel, had so scared the anointed 
 of the Lord, that he could easily see what he 
 had before him, to reign as king against the 
 will and under the express displeasure of the 
 Eternal, 
 
 And as the families come near, the family of 
 Matri was taken, of the tribe of Benjamin, and 
 they sought the tall Saul, the son of Kish, but 
 he could not be found. Then they consulted 
 together, and said, 'Will he yet come hither?' 
 And the Lord answered, through Samuel, 'Be- 
 hold he hath hid himself among the stufi'.' 
 
 Then they ran and fetched him out of his 
 hiding place among the stulf, where he bad con- 
 cealed himself in a natural feeling of 'royal fear,' 
 and when he stood among the people, he was 
 higher than any of the people from his shoulders 
 upward. 
 
 And Samuel said unto all the people, not 
 without some contempt and irony: 'See ye 
 him whom the Lord hath chosen ; that there ia 
 none like him among all the people !' 
 
 And all the people shouted and said, Viva! 
 Hurrah ! God save the king ! But Samuel re- 
 peated once more to the people all the rights of 
 monarchy, and delivered the book of laws, and 
 then sent all the people away, every man to his 
 house. 
 
 And Saul also went home, and there went 
 with him a band of men, whose hearts God had 
 touched by the terrible voice of threatening, 
 wherefore they, from fear of the Lord, would 
 not immediately leave the king, whom they had 
 demanded in their obstinacy towards God. 
 
 But some ' sons of Belial,' who had quite well 
 understood the Lord, and comforted themselves 
 that the new monarchy had not been their wish, 
 made themselves a little merry at the courageous 
 king who had hid himself among the stuff, when 
 he should have shown himself in his royal ma- 
 jesty. ' How shall this man save us ?' said they. 
 They laughed and despised him in the bottom 
 of their hearts, because they could not see any 
 thing in him, except tlie length of his goodly, 
 stately figure, that should require them to revere 
 his royal majesty. The republicans, the so called 
 * sons of Belial,' also formed an opposition, and — 
 brought the king no ' presents,' as did the rest 
 of the people. But Saul behaved with monar- 
 chical prudence — ' he held his peace ;' for he 
 was now king, and relied upon his royal strength 
 and power, without regarding the voice of dis- 
 content among the people, just as now-a-days 
 kings and princes are accustomed to do, after the 
 example of the first king — of the tall and stately 
 King Saul. 
 
 Had it been the will and plan of Providence to 
 give the people a king, to establish monarchy for 
 the welfare of the people. All-ruling Wisdom 
 would have looked for other qualities in the 
 annointed than length of body, by which the king 
 should, as it were, ' stand above' all the people. 
 
 The irony of God is confirmed, from century 
 to century, down ^o the present day, for little is 
 asked about the character and wisdom of a king: 
 if there is only a king there, all the people shout 
 and say : ' God save the king !'
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 803 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 Had Providence stlected the wisest from 
 nmon^ tho people, to rule with discretion and 
 judgement, then indeed would the defenders of 
 the monarchical principle have a reason for as- 
 serting tlieir opinions. 
 
 But the fate of the first kin? confirms the un- 
 mistakcably spoken dislike of God to monarchy. 
 
 If Providence had given tiie people who in 
 their stubborn obstinacy desired a king, a wor- 
 thy, so called " good king," it would have shown 
 monarchy to the people in an advantageous light, 
 and such would have been a contradiction by 
 God of himself, who had re 'used the desire of 
 the infatuated people, with powerful threats. 
 
 ' Wait now infatuated ungrateful people — ye 
 have not rejected my prophet but me, that I 
 should no longer be your king — ^just wait, I will 
 show you what the monarchy is that ye desire, I 
 will send upon you the hard oppression, of mon- 
 archy, and ye shall cry out in that day because 
 of^your king which ye shall have chosen over 
 you, and the Lord will not hear you in that 
 day: 
 
 After such a threat, the Lord could not con- 
 tradict himself, and — made the people a king in 
 his wruth — such as we see the kings in the his- 
 tory of all nations, from Saul down to the pres- 
 ent day." 
 
 The voice of the smith now fell without any 
 particular rhetorical conclusion and he continued: 
 
 " There are so called ' free states' — republics — 
 which arrogate to themselves democratic princi- 
 ples, as they call their mask, and carry on a 
 slave trade, a man-trade, with black and with 
 white slaves. If this state here, for whose free- 
 dom we shed our blood, should ever become such 
 a free state, a German smith would be ashamed 
 in his grave that he had sacrificed his life for 
 8uch so called freedom. 
 
 May Rio Grande sustain the principle of free- 
 dom in the reasonable and natural form of a re- 
 public, in despite of all the glittering bayonets of 
 a rotten and wormeaten monarchy; may Rio 
 Grande, as a flourishing republic, become at- 
 tached to the future Grand Union of the United 
 States of South America — attached by the sacred 
 bond of Humanity, whose spirit manifests itself 
 in our hearts, in our conviction and in our faith, 
 now and forever .' Ora e sempre." 
 
 Wartling had been interrupted in many parts 
 of his address, by the loud applause of the peo- 
 ple, and the like happened when he had reached 
 the above end. He drew back, and Celeste rode 
 forward on horseback, as he had appeared there, 
 and took his place. 
 
 The eyes of all rested upon him. Since his 
 arrival so many things had been said among the 
 people about him, that a particular curiosity was 
 excited in many to see him. The ladies espe- 
 cially had taken a lively interest in him, and 
 liad endeavored to manifest their sympathy in 
 every way, while he lay sick of his wound. 
 
 Celeste now appeared before the people, and 
 the impression of his presence caused the silence 
 of deatli to prevail, instead of the loud tumul- 
 tous applause which greets the people's favorite 
 when he mounts the spealter's stand. His coun- 
 tenance was pale, in consequence of moral and 
 physical sufferings — exposed to wind and weath- 
 er in the open field siace his flight from Buenos 
 AjTes. 
 
 The Patagonian head-handkerchief enveloped 
 his head, from under which appearad a few of 
 the growing hairs on the temples. But so much 
 the longer was his dark beard which fell upon 
 his breast, and covered the Ujjper lip in propor- 
 tionate length. lie looked around about him 
 upon the assembled multitude, then laid the bri- 
 dle of his horse over the tiger skin which covered 
 the saddle. 
 
 The deathlike silence continued. A holy spirit 
 of devotion seemed to accompany him, and to 
 render the hearts of all susceptible for the ex- 
 pected word. 
 
 ~'**r^^*-t-^9S'*^^^'^^**^~ 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE SPEECH FBOM THE SADDLE 
 
 And Lorenzo seated himself conveniently in 
 his saddle, and spoke, saying : 
 
 " Strange and peculiar days have come for 
 earth, 
 In course of things ; most wonderfully moves 
 A spirit in the hearts of human kind ; 
 With shape and form it seeks to clothe itself, 
 T' assume a substance somewhere ; and to mould 
 What human beings call Society. 
 
 The spirit that we have no word to name. 
 Which we can but anticipate — not prove. 
 Endeavors, in its working here on earth, 
 The statutes of the future to set forth ; 
 To lay the groundwork of a better culture, 
 To bring to pass a kingdom long foreseen ; 
 I mean the kingdom of our God on earth. 
 
 Cast we a desultory glance behind. 
 O'er the world's history — we recognise 
 iVIankind originally raised above 
 The situation of minority 
 Through the idea which we call Religion. 
 
 We see religions multiplying still ; 
 Each after, or from out of others formed, 
 From one eternal primitive religion, 
 In whatsoever form it shows itself. 
 At the same time we mark transitions strange 
 In the world's epochs : — periods waste and void, 
 Without all faith, without idea ; — epochs 
 When, as it were, hardly the breath of life 
 Rules at the moment ; — periods, I say. 
 In which mankind is moved by nought beside 
 Outward appearance ; while a sore disease 
 Spoils, as it were, and wastes the very life 
 Of mental vigor, that should rouse them up 
 Anew, and which, as spirit of the future, 
 Must first destroy and put away old forms, 
 As happened twice, thousands of years ago. 
 
 Profoundly sunk in slavery and in serfhood. 
 Mankind once lay, in rude idolatry 
 Of mammon and of sensuality. 
 Men paid their homage to the golden calf. 
 
 And Moses came, sent forth ijy God himself, 
 A nation to construct without a king. 
 Who were to recognise one king alone. 
 Him, only Him — Jehovah Zebaoth! 
 And through long ages did the spirit still 
 Unfold itself in the Mosaic law. 

 
 304 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 The TTorship of one God, which stood opposed 
 
 To heatheni:)h idolatry, and spread 
 
 Itself abroad, as the renewing siiirlt 
 
 or />'//■ and energy; — but /ove was wanting. 
 
 Reason and revelation shadoaed forth. 
 The dawn of a new epoch for the world ; 
 The prophets" bodings ncwbecame more loud 
 Than faith in forms and cold formalities. 
 Which o.ilv bv the priesthood were maintained; 
 And, 'midst the prophets' lamentation, rose 
 The comforting announcement of the future. 
 
 Waste, ruin, now extended everj-where; 
 The heart of man still throbbed, but did not 
 
 live. 
 Like some fair marble statue then stood man 
 Upon this rich and beauteous earth of ours — 
 So lifeless, and inspired by no soul. 
 All in those days was marble — man, as well 
 As the proud fanes of his magnificence — 
 And cold and unsusceptible as stone. 
 Man, and the world, and life, and nature, all. 
 All was one heap of .stones — Creation petrified. 
 
 Now, sent by God, the Son of Man appeared ; 
 The Word, by prophets' visions long announced. 
 Was now made flesh, and Love came down to 
 
 earth. 
 And justice and equality were taught 
 By the scorned Nazarene, who now proclaimed 
 The reign of peace — the kingdom of our Lord. 
 
 The .Son of Man sealed and confirmed his word 
 By dying on the cross a martyr's death. 
 
 Jesus' disciples, wonderfully moved 
 By love's blest spirit, tansht continually 
 After his death, still seeking to extend 
 The doctrines of Equality and Love ; 
 The claims of earthly Justice. And they lived 
 In harmony and fellowship together. 
 Pattern alike to heathen and to Jew. 
 
 Wlien Jesus had been dead some sixty years, 
 The name of Christian first originated ; 
 And tho<:e who 'oore this name, the company 
 And fellowship of the disciples, grew 
 And gathered strength, while despot's vainly 
 
 souKht 
 To weaken and uproot them ; strong they grew 
 Through all the persecuting hate of tyrants ; 
 While all the mighty of the earth pursued. 
 With bitterness and rage, the principle 
 Of that Eijuality which Jesus taught. 
 
 The Christians bled. Victim on victim fell ; 
 Blood flowed in torrents, and one martyr died 
 After another — crucified and burnt. 
 And with the crisped and burning bones of one 
 The pile w'as kindled to consume the next. 
 
 iiut out of all the martyrs' blood and death, 
 The spirit of true holiness arose 
 And waxed strong and povs'erful through itself. 
 
 The thrones of princes then began to shake, 
 And trembling moved about the crowned heads. 
 Now were the opposing principles displayed, 
 The power of se/f.shne.'ss, and that of loce. 
 The might of spirit soaringly arose 
 From earthly clay up to its own bright sphere. 
 
 At length the Emperor Constantine assumed 
 Dominion o'er the persecuted Christians ; 
 And with him came the fathers of the church. 
 To mould ihe forms of such a novel doctrine. 
 
 Bathed in the blood of martyr's, faith }:ad «\0W 
 Become religion, and was called the church. 
 
 But tyranny remained unable stiU 
 To uproot Faith, and tear (!own the Idea 
 Prom that exalted spirit-height whence sho 
 Dispensed her light to all the human race. 
 
 Impossible it was quite to suppress 
 Jesus' puie doctrine ; therefore Despotism 
 Possessed itself of the " Idea" — prudently 
 Impressing with it " a fiilse coinage," which 
 It gave the people — and that was the Church, 
 Which, as " religion," passes now on earth. 
 
 From day to day the elements fermented. 
 Of Selfishness and Love ; while here and there 
 Truth's Spirit, dignified and great, apppeared 
 In forms, as events of the centuries. 
 The brilliant epoch of mankind shows forth 
 In Christian combat for the Holy Grave. 
 
 The Primitive Idea remained in force, 
 The human Heart was full of inspiration, 
 And penetrated by the light of Fai;h, 
 Man then despised the paltry gauds of earth, 
 Lite's splendor and magnificence, from love 
 To God, whom in the Son of Man he knew 
 
 And the two elements fermented still, 
 And in the Templar's Was evinced the spirit 
 Of life and energy — and Jacob Molay, 
 With three companions, fell beneath the powei 
 Of despotism, which had long ago 
 United with the church ; — Molay was burnt ; 
 And on the band of Templars now abide 
 The curses of all crowns ; and Mclay's dust 
 Strewed to the winds, is execrated still. 
 
 The church was now a worldly sov'reignty ; 
 A government that ruled o'er all the nations 
 Which owned themselves as so called Chris- 
 tendom ; 
 And blood-stained popery's chief oflScer 
 Was to its shame — the executioner. 
 
 Johannes Huss appeared, to rend Bohemia 
 From such disgraceful servitude, and he 
 Was burnt like Molay ; but his spirit lived j 
 It struggled on and onward, forty years, 
 And to this day it is not quite extinct. 
 
 Three centuries ago, truth's spirit rose 
 And stirred itself inhuman hearts. — Some priests 
 And monks seceded from the Papal chair ; 
 Nevertheless, they still continued priests. 
 They preached reform — but wanted alteration 
 Only in forms— the substance still remained : 
 The church as it had been ; and as we see 
 
 Significantly in the English church 
 
 The brilliant fruits of jiriestly reformation. 
 
 The old building was new timbered and re- 
 paired 
 With wooden balconies ; and, like old women. 
 They wrangled and contended about words. 
 Those men of reformation, separated 
 For phrases — ne'er having recognised 
 The sjnrit that inspired the Son of Man. 
 They pieced new cloth upon old garments, and 
 Like the five virgins, they went out to meet 
 The bridegroom — destitute of living oil 
 To trim their lamps, and so they went astray
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 80& 
 
 The rich and splendid edifice anew 
 With earthly ti'appings was adorned, but still 
 Remained a temple of despotic power, 
 Of every tyrant's arbitrary will ; 
 And by degrees the church has settled down 
 Into an instrument of state — become 
 A police court — religion and the glow 
 Of faith are now extinct within her pale. 
 
 The priests preach loudly of the nullity 
 Of earthly goods, of patience, and denial, 
 While they live impudently on in splendor, 
 Enjoying luxury and sensual revels. 
 They preach uprightness and equality, 
 And serve with venal and disgraceful duty 
 The throne, and monarchy, and tyranny, 
 AVhich thev support; — thus murder upon mur- 
 der,' 
 Accomplishing on men, who struggle for 
 Humanity ; and, most unheard of baseness. 
 Murders on murders they commit upon 
 Whole nations who are striving after freedom. 
 
 They preach humility — submissiveness 
 And slavery — and siibjection to the axe 
 Of the anointed executioner, 
 Who, smeared with blood, maintains his so 
 
 called right, 
 By ' grace of God,' and loads with curse and ban 
 Honor, and virtue, and the love of man. 
 
 — This is the state of Christian doctrine now ; 
 But clear as light, and still unfalsified, 
 Th' idea of his divine original 
 Displays itself in man ; and even now 
 Does the blest spirit of the Nazarene, 
 Lilie a pure ray of light, the source of being, 
 Gleam forth, and draw men upward to itseli, 
 Above the mass of gross materialism. 
 
 Nations there are, and have been, who 
 
 have called 
 Themselves ' God's chosen people,' and who 
 
 claim 
 Pre-eminence in goodness above others. 
 In former times the Jews appeared so, now 
 They are the Tories — and in history 
 They play the selfsame part. 
 
 But those who think 
 They're better than all others, prove themselves 
 Worse than all others by the tliought itself. 
 
 This tin-ead conducts us to the following curse. 
 Which God pronounced by Samuel on the Jews : 
 ' In my just anger will I cast you off!' 
 Thus said the Lord ! ' for ye've rejected me 
 From ruling over Israel as your king !' 
 
 And when the carpenter's poor son appeared. 
 Preaching contempt for every earthly good ; 
 To send away from human kind the chains 
 Of mammon, and of sensual delight ; 
 
 The venal Jews sold their deliverer. 
 
 The Jews then disappeared as a nation. 
 
 And Christianity — Christ's doctrine — now 
 Is falsified to priestcraft ; and ere yet 
 Two thousand years have passed, we find on earth 
 But a dark trace of Christianity : 
 Love's spirit is opposed by calculation ; 
 Materialisrti overrules the Spirit ; 
 And on the edifice oi selfishness. 
 Colossal as the tower of Babel, stands 
 Britannia, greater than all states on earth 
 Through usury and shameful peculation. 
 3H 
 
 The Tories make a traffic of mankind 
 And of Christianity ; religion is 
 Only an article of trade with them ! 
 And in contempt of Jesus' doctrines, there 
 The people starve while priests luxuriate ! 
 And thus two dominations rear them- 
 selves : 
 The Popedmn and the Church of England; still 
 The two are only one ; 'tis but the priesthood 
 In twofold form — the garments only differ 
 Of the well nourished priests ; and if the Popedom 
 Is hated by the English high fanatics. 
 The hatred's only caused by jealousy. 
 
 Britannia has already set her foot 
 In South America — our struggle here 
 Has lasted twenty years, for death and life, 
 And here and there disarmed, we've armed anew. 
 Since first in Pernambuco we proclaimed 
 That a Republic was the end we sought. 
 
 Disgracefully betrayed and sold, we see 
 The people's strength in South America 
 Through Britannia — through Britannia ! 
 
 Curses on 
 
 The throne that to its state hyiiocri.'y 
 Perverts Christianity — in maintenance 
 Of a vile system of deceit and lies ! 
 Curse on Britannia's cabinet, upheld 
 By priests, and scorning its own suffering people. 
 It seeks, in countries far remote, to span 
 The nations in the yoke ol slavery. 
 
 Far as the waves of ocean foaming roll. 
 
 Great Britain girdles towns, and lands, and 
 
 countries. 
 Nation on nation, trades in realm on realm, 
 Unnerves the orient, and threatens now 
 T'appropriate the fruits of twenty years 
 Of struggle here, as British Property. 
 
 And now, my brethren ! know for what 
 
 we fight. 
 And know against what enemy we struggle. 
 
 The time will come, when over all the earth 
 Nation on Nation rouse themselves to fight ; 
 The freedom of all countries to establish 
 On pure religion's primitive idea ; 
 And then all enmity, and scorn, and rage. 
 Shall concentrate themselves in royalty; 
 
 monarchy I 
 The royalist will stand forth as enemies 
 Of freedom and of mankind, and the struggle 
 AVill grow more fearful than it e'er has been. 
 And with more bitterness be carried on. 
 
 Then shall the spirit of humanity 
 Be armed for life and death 'gainst monarchy. 
 The name of royalist then, shall be a curse; 
 The world will turn away from all who bear it ; 
 And wheresoe'era royalist wends his way, 
 T'escape the scaff'old, or evade a shot. 
 Royalist themselves will close their doors against 
 
 them — 
 Who never pity their own countrymen. 
 When splendid, rich, as is Great Britain now. 
 
 Accursed in selfishness and infamy. 
 The Tory in despair shall curse himself— 
 And as Britannia in her blindness now 
 Commits a suicide on her own poor people • 
 A Castlereagh on Castlereagh shall then, 
 With his own blood, inscribe Britannia's end. 
 In the great book of the world's history — 
 And tb«D Great Britain sball no more be found.
 
 SOS 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Dispersea o'er all the world, as now the Jews, 
 TheBtiiTviug Tories then shall chaffer with 
 The jewels of the crown, and with the mantle 
 Of the last king of England — and the sceptre, 
 Britannia's, for old silver shall be sold. 
 By Tories in a foreign land. And thus 
 You see Britannia's present situation, 
 And this will also be Britannia's end." 
 
 But Erin's sons and Caledonia's sons 
 Shall stand as people in their sacred right. 
 Delivered from ' Britannia's golden chains' 
 Upon the ruins of ' Britannia's throne,' 
 In brotherhood receiving in their arms 
 ' The englisli people' to reconciliation, 
 All hatred and all vengeance disappears. 
 Before the spirit of humanity ; 
 When mankind will awake in resurrection. 
 Thus is my prophecy of future days : 
 The Revelation of Humanity. 
 
 Amen." 
 
 Hardly had Celeste uttered the last words, with 
 the glow of inspiration which characterized his 
 whole discourse, and had from time to time 
 seized upon the hearts of the people with 
 threatening effect, when a youth came forward 
 from a group of citizens, and approached the 
 circle which now surrounded the speaker. 
 
 A musical choir began, by the arrangement of 
 the standing committee, the world-famed Mar- 
 seillaise, and many Iiundred voices accompanied 
 the powerful " AUons-enfans" ! — 
 
 A staff officer in Celeste's neighborhood in- 
 formed him that a youth had arrived from Rio de 
 Janeiro, who desired to speak to him. Celeste 
 had dismounted from his horse to lie down on 
 the grass, exhausted by the physical exertion of 
 his speech, and still weak in consequence of his 
 wounds. He turned around, as if he did not 
 comprehend what they announced to him. 
 
 " Did you say that a youth had arrived from 
 Rio de Janeiro," inquired he, after a pause; " it 
 surely is not ?" 
 
 " It is Horatio," said a gentle voice in the 
 crowd near him, and the nephew of Alphonso 
 flew into his arms. 
 
 — - *«**^^^^ ^ #^^^..yw— 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE woman's curse. 
 
 Gracia lived on in those eternal convulsions 
 and struggles of all the powers of her wounded 
 soul. Little as she was able to explain to her- 
 self how it was possible that a sentiment which 
 contradicted her social duties, could overpower 
 her to such a degree as it had drawn her towards 
 the kindred soul, still less had she been able 
 hitherto to suppress it. She recognised in this 
 sentiment the support of her inward life, which 
 was first aroused when her social relations had 
 destroyed her peace of mind. The more, how- 
 ever, she now endeavored to maintain this point 
 d'appui of her spiritual existence, the more 
 deeply did she stray into the labyrinth of the 
 rigid contradiction between her heart and the 
 forms of social life. 
 
 The more she became clear in the conscious- 
 
 ness of loving Robert, the more deeply did sha 
 feel the degradation of herself in a union which 
 rested upon deceit, and whose consequences and 
 conditions she had first seen through when it will 
 too late. In these struggles and convulsions, 
 which she had hitherto, as far as possible, en- 
 deavored to conceal from her beloved, arose, (ac- 
 cording to her views,) the monster of necessity, 
 sustaining itself upon animal relations without 
 love. 
 
 In the most evident contradiction with her- 
 self, she continued a connexion which lay 
 founded upon the regulations recognised as the 
 basis of the social world ; while, on the other 
 side, she at the mere touching of the paper on 
 which a female had written, trembled and 
 shrank before the thought that Robert might 
 have only given his hand to another woman in 
 conversation. Even her excessive jealousy was 
 a contradiction in herself 
 
 The natural sentiment of jealousy, which is 
 founded upon human weakness, disappears in 
 two extremes of circumstances. 
 
 Love, (in the sense of the word which we have 
 so often designated, and in the idea of which we 
 maintain,) nourished and confirmed in the being 
 whom a bond of mutual love has fastened for 
 ever, knows no jealousy. Indifference — which 
 misuses a social form to content the animal de- 
 mands of nature, and in rigid opposition to the 
 sentiment of love, requires neither soul nor in- 
 tellect, but only a body — knows just as little ol 
 this sentiment. 
 
 Jealousy proceeds not so much from suspicion, 
 as from the diffidence of a heart which is mar- 
 tyred by the anxious uncertainty, the painful 
 doubt : vv'hether it is capable and in a condition 
 to answer all the demands of its kindred heart 
 in every respect: whether the beloved recog- 
 nises and returns its love in the degree in which 
 itself feels it : whether no being on earth has over 
 been able to produce a similar effect on the be- 
 loved heart, as the loving heart experiences 
 within itself. 
 
 Jealousy, of course, vanishes where such a 
 blessed conviction prevails, of the love that " be- 
 lieves in love " and never doubts ; and in the 
 other case, where love was never the question, 
 where animal instinct in the place of love formed 
 a bond that rested upon egotism. The egotist 
 overrating all his powers and capabilities, knows 
 no jealousy, because he cannot imagine that there 
 exists a man in the world who would be able 
 more punctually to satisfy all the demands of 
 the so called love of a being than himself. In the 
 self-conciousness of infallible egotism, (which 
 as arrogance, knows how to make itself pass,) lies 
 in part the ground of the inconceivable decep- 
 tion by which a man is able to fascinate a being 
 who is as strange to him in heart and intellect, 
 as the egotist himself is foreign to the inward 
 life. 
 
 Egotism knows as little jealousy as love, be- 
 cause the former considers itself perfect in the 
 above respect, and the latter, in the conciousness 
 of mortal imperfection, lives in the conviction 
 of the mutual love, which " believeth in love, 
 endureth all things, hopeth all things ;" which 
 dissolves itself in the unity of the kindred soul, 
 and interweaves the existence of love, with th» 
 idea of Eternity. 
 We will not institute the question : whether •
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 307 
 
 being like Gracia, United in happy social rela- 
 tions with such a man as Robert, would ever 
 have experienced jealousy. We doubt it, since 
 we recognise in both that original affinity of 
 Soul Upon which their love rested. 
 
 We will, however, institute tlie question : how 
 the interior of a being like Gracia must be dis- 
 turbed, when she trembled before the thouglit 
 of finding occasion for the slightest jealousy, 
 while she maintained before the eyes of her be- 
 loved, a relation that inflamed in the youth, of 
 whose love she vvas conscious, not exactly jeal- 
 ousy, but a sentiment of injured honor for which 
 psychology has, as yet, found no significant 
 word. 
 
 \ 
 
 The thought of the possibility of a realization 
 of his love in social forms liad never occurred 
 to the youth till she herself awakened (his idea 
 within him, which was afterwards confirmed by 
 his uncle. 
 
 This gentleman considered everything in life, 
 and life itself, only from the practical side; — 
 even marriage was to him a business, and what 
 appeared here and there as love, was only to 
 him the introduction to business. Mr. Thom- 
 son in his relations to the female sex, upon the 
 point of matrimony, was as great an egotist as 
 ever possessed himself of the hand of a female. 
 He felt, in proud self-contentment, that he was 
 in a condition to satisfy all the external demands 
 of a woman, and as he himself knew of no de- 
 mands of the heart, he could, very naturally, not 
 conceive that the heart had in general its de- 
 mands. 
 
 Robert loved Gracia in the purest sense of 
 the word. The thought wliich his uncle had 
 awakened within him required the dissolution 
 of the connubial bond, which had, so to say, 
 infused the individuality of his beloved into a 
 stranger, since she, to speak in .Scripture lan- 
 guage, had become " one flesh" with this foreign 
 element. 
 
 Gracia's relations to Robert, however, required 
 not so much a public divorce, as a physical sepa- 
 ration from the man whom she had never loved, 
 and by whose connubial contact she was de- 
 graded. 
 
 Sufficient moral grounds of divorce had ex- 
 isted, long before Robert came into Gracia's 
 neighborhood, and every woman in her situation, 
 possessed of moral self-conseiousness, v^ould be 
 in duty bound to part from a man whose influ- 
 ence could only more and more demoralize her. 
 Senhora Gracia appeared to have perceived this, 
 before she made advances to Robert, and gave 
 him her explanation. But the longer the de- 
 moralizing influence of a mean nature upon a 
 noble one, in the physical bond of matrimony, 
 endures, so much the more does the woman (or 
 in an opposite case the man) lose in moral self- 
 consciousness and honorable sentiment. The 
 woman imbibes, without knowing or desiring it, 
 the worldly perceptions and views of life of the 
 demoralized, characterless husband — through 
 the " unity of the flesh," whilst she gradually 
 suppresses her moral delicacy of sentiment in 
 all that regards the characterlessness and the 
 crimes of her husband. There are few wives 
 who do not soon, with natural penetration, (a 
 certain female instinct,) see through the individ- 
 uality of their husbands, because the inward life 
 
 (as we formerly intimated) is universally more 
 easily and highly developed in woman than in 
 man ; but there are few women who, with the 
 cultivation of the inward life, at the same time 
 develope their moral force — and come forth as 
 morally independent — against the characterless- 
 ness and meanness of the husband — who clothes 
 and feeds them, and is to provide for their chil- 
 dren. The demoralization of marriage without 
 love lies founded (as we have likewise formerly 
 intimated) in the ordinances of the church and 
 state, which have instituted marriage as a cove- 
 nant of propagation, without taking into consid- 
 eration the natural consequence of such a cove- 
 nant upon the rising generation. 
 
 AUhougli Robert had never given utterance to 
 the thought of separation, still the distracting 
 feeling pres.wd upon him for which we know no 
 word, and which urged the dissolution of an ani- 
 mal relation that (according to Gracia's declara- 
 tion) had never been founded in love, and so long 
 as it subsisted, remained a twofold crime against 
 nature and love, 
 
 Robert found himself in his pavilion on that 
 evening after the family dinner, when his friend 
 was announced, and greeted him with her cus- 
 tomary heartiness and unconstraint. It was diffi- 
 cult for him to find a proper mode of reply, since 
 a tenfold impression raged within him from the 
 reception of the ring and the return of the hus- 
 band. 
 
 As a reply to the first impression, he had a 
 like symbol ready since that morning, as the 
 present required. The return of the personified 
 inimical principle of his sentiments — was a sub- 
 ject he had determined to touch upon, when the 
 ring gave him exactly the occasion he desired. 
 The unhappy youth follow-ed the natural prompt- 
 ings of his character, and thanked his friend in 
 the first place with undissembled openness for 
 the symbol he had received, adding that he pos- 
 sessed a like one, in case she had recognised in 
 sacred earnest its signification. He dared not, 
 however, give utterance to the natural stipula- 
 tion, abstractly from a public separation, the 
 possibility of which affected him as a foreign 
 suggestion. 
 
 Gracia accepted the symbol of " Eternity" with 
 expressions of sincere joy, and anticipated him 
 by requiring an explanation of wherefore he 
 would not visit at her husband's house in the city. 
 The young Englishman fell into the most pain- 
 ful embarrassment. He must give a wife only 
 the lightest intimation of the position of her 
 husband as a citizen. He looked back upon his 
 entrance into the dwelling, and upon the mani- 
 fold information and assertion of his friend that 
 she had never loved her husband, and would love 
 him, and him only, to eternity. He hinted in 
 the most delicate expressions at the valid grounds 
 that must subsist, through which she herself ex- 
 perienced so decided a repulsion against Mr. 
 Closting as she had at least asserted, and brought 
 it home to her perceptions whether many others 
 might not be deterred from seeking personal in- 
 tercourse with him upon the same grounds which 
 caused her repulsion, 
 
 Madame Closting sank into an armchair and 
 gazed inquiringly at her friend, " What do you 
 mean to say by that .'" said she, with an expres- 
 sion of amazement.
 
 308 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " 'Wliaf you sufficiently understand yourself, 
 since ynu have manifested that valid grounds of 
 the repulsion on your part exist." 
 
 " What have the grounds of my repulsion to 
 do with the standing of my husband as a citi- 
 zen ?" inquired she, with evidently wounded 
 self-love. " You will not undertake to impugn 
 the character of my husband, as you hint at rea- 
 sons that should occasion people to avoid his 
 society .' If you say a single word to the prejudice 
 of my husband, I must doubt your character, 
 since you traduce him from envy, %vhile he is 
 worthy as a man, of all respect and friendship on 
 your part." 
 
 Robert turned pale, and sank likevfise upon a 
 chair opposite his friend. 
 
 The declaration of the wife was simple, brief, 
 and concise. It was the declaration of a woman — 
 in her social position as a wife and mother, and 
 90 far right, if it had only not concerned a man 
 who had long since lost his credit as a citizen — 
 and been directed to a man who was placed in 
 such delicate relations towards her, to whom 
 she had given her heart for ever, or at least had 
 sworn to do so, 
 
 " You will not surely regard the reports and 
 tattle which the mean envy of some countrymen 
 of my husband has put in circulation, who are 
 wanting in practical ability for business, and 
 endeavor, on that account, to cast suspicion upon 
 his character, because they are less successful 
 than he, who is making his fortune here ?" 
 
 "Do you mean by this Hinango, madam?" 
 inquired Robert, suddenly, in a tone of iniured 
 honor. 
 
 Gracia trembled at the sound of this ice-cold 
 word — she sprang up and seized Robert's hand, 
 
 " Robert, you do not love me, and wish to 
 part from me .'" cried she, with tears starting 
 from her eyes. 
 
 " Gracia ! are you deranged .'" inquired the 
 youth, pressing her hand between both of his 
 " You love another — you love Dolores." 
 " Dolores !" cried Robert, e-pringing as if 
 struck by liglitning ; " how did you" know that 
 name, which has not passed my lips .'" 
 
 " See I now ! only see how violent you are ! is 
 not my suspicion well founded .' if the poetess 
 were indifferent to you, how could you then be 
 so shocked at my words ?" 
 
 " 1 conjure you to tell me how you learned 
 the name Dolores ? from whose ciouth did you 
 hear it !" 
 
 " From the mouth of my husband," replied 
 the wife, smiling ; " he knows your so called 
 
 ' sister,' and " 
 
 " And stands in connexion with the Baron de 
 Spandau, to deliver her to Rosas in Buenos 
 Ayres." 
 
 It was now Gracia's turn to tremble. She 
 sank into her armchair again, and gazed ear- 
 nestly at Robert. 
 
 " In connexion with the Baron de Spandau, 
 to deliver her to Rosas," repeated she slowly, 
 with an inquiring tone of the most profound 
 horror. 
 
 " Gracia ! Gracia !" now cried the young En- 
 glishman : " a shameful game has been played 
 with you until now, and even now they are 
 playing the same towards you ! Do you know 
 who Dolores is? Dolores" is the being — who 
 from the scaffold of her beloved oa the river La | 
 
 Plata, saved her own life by flight, fo escape 
 a similar fate ; and as her protector, together 
 with Hinango, Providence led me to Brazil, to 
 this precipice on which I now stand — in relation 
 
 to you. 
 
 " Through my reverence for Alphonso and 
 his beloved, and through Hinango's friendship 
 for me, I believed myself to be worthy of vour 
 love, and of being understood and apprecfated 
 by you ; — and now doubt me still I repeat that 
 exclamation of unheard of doubt — whether I love 
 you !" 
 
 " Forgive me, Robert," said the woman, after 
 a long pause, with a feeble, tremulous voice. 
 A web of hell encloses me and — you ; but be 
 assured that my husband ig as little connected 
 in this respect, with the infamous Baron de 
 Spandau, as I am ; I pledge myself for that. — i 
 know him too well to believe him capable of a 
 base transaction — to say nothjrvg of such treach- 
 ery in regard to the life of a female." 
 
 Robert's brain was in danger of bursting. Tha 
 domain of alwolute lunacy revealed itse-If'to him 
 so far as this woman most he an inhabitant of 
 this domain, thus to bring forward declaration 
 upon declaration, which must either be against 
 her convictions, or the result of an inward dis- 
 turbance, in which the soul's mirror received 
 the appearances of the outward world distorted, 
 and returned their reflection again in the colors 
 of a foreign element. 
 
 Let your husband have Icamt the circum- 
 stances of Dolores where and through whom he 
 may, I conjure you, for the sake of our love, (if 
 it be still sacred to you,) to tell me in what res- 
 pect he spoke to you of her — what he has said 
 to you about her ?" 
 
 " Nothing — but that you ran away with her 
 from Buenos Ayres, and that she has hliherto 
 passed for your sister in Bota Fogo. He said it 
 was a secret — but he knew the reality." 
 
 " And you then immediately believed this 
 communication, and probably believe in it 
 now ?" 
 
 " No — no, Robert ! by all that is holy, I do 
 not believe that you love this being — who, be- 
 sides .stands too high for me ever 
 
 to be onlv worthy of raising my eyes to 
 
 her if you had ever considered her as other 
 
 than your sister." 
 
 She spoke the last words with a certain mus- 
 cular convulsion of her countenance, which ex- 
 pressed itself around the lips, and large teat 
 drops fell suddenly down upon her pale cheeks. 
 Robert was again agitated and impressed by 
 the tone of profbundest sadness which accom- 
 panied these words, as well as by the dec- 
 laration itself, which revealed to him the un- 
 hapi)y pangs of jealousy in the depths of her 
 heart. 
 
 " Gracia ! Gracia ! I cannot comprehend yon, 
 and who will ever dare to boast that he does 
 comprehend a woman ? Shall 1 now set before 
 you your parallel in relation to the characters of 
 Mr. Closting and myself, as you have expressed 
 it ? shall I explain the grounds of my repul- 
 sion >" 
 
 " Do not speak of him '. do not mention his 
 
 name !" cried the poor woman hastily, and with 
 
 violence ; " I conjure you be silent about him I — 
 
 be silent about him !" 
 
 " Well, I wiU be silent about him ; but the
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 309 
 
 \ 
 
 Benliment that you have con6rmed and conse- 
 crated in me, will not be silent, it will speak 
 aloud in my soul for ever ! Do you remember 
 your words — ' for eternity ?' " 
 
 " I have said it once," replied Gracia, with 
 decision, " and I do not recall it — if 1 even feel," 
 added she, witii the same sadness as before, and 
 
 with tears, '* if 1 even feel that you never 
 
 would have made advances to me if this un- 
 fortunate heart had not first revealed its senti- 
 ments lo you." 
 
 "Good heavens 1" cried Robert, clasping his 
 hands, '* what is tliis in you that is for ever and 
 eternally torturing you with doubts of my love 
 for you ? You make me regularly mad by every 
 revelation of your heart. If the belief in love 
 is wanting in you, then you do not love ; for 
 faith and love are one. If you are unable to 
 think or to conceive that my being resolves 
 itself into the consciousness of your reciprocal 
 love, then the sentiment of love is foreign to 
 you — that is bringing me — to the grave !" 
 
 " Yes, I can conceive it, Robert '. I under- 
 stand you ! your sutferings are unheard of — and 
 I have caused them." 
 
 " Not you — and not myself. I can as little 
 reproach you as myself; but I require justice 
 from you, and in that you are wanting ! You 
 ire unjust towards me, while you tremble before 
 a thought — which nourishes your jealousy, and 
 rerpiire from me the endurance of a reality; — 
 that I should suffer what I suffer, that I should 
 endure what I endure !" 
 
 " Can I do otherwise ?" inquired she, with 
 profound anguish, seeming to have forgotten 
 what she had remarked, while reading the 
 ** Psychology of Love," since she, in case she 
 had not forgotten it, now proclaimed herself" to 
 be a goose, or her husband a monster." 
 
 " Yes, you can do otherwise if you will. I 
 repeat this assertion ! You are morally free as 
 a woman, even if a slave of social regulations ; 
 a slave of him who bought you at a nominal 
 price ! A negro slave maintains, in such a case, 
 her moral freedom ; and do you not possess the 
 same force !" 
 
 " Frightful ! frightful !" sobbed the unfortu- 
 nate woman ; " to compare me vvith a uegro 
 slave — to call me a slave — to treat me so ! No ! 
 you do not love me ! you never loved me ! an 
 unaccountable delusion has fooled me ! — thank 
 God ! — it is past — it is torn away ! It is well that 
 it has happened so — that it has come to this ! 
 Thank God ! it is well — to treat me so! No! 
 that is too hard ! He would not have treated me 
 so ! he never has used me sol he has too much 
 feeling ever to treat me in such a manner ! 
 Frightful ! — unheard of!" 
 
 Robert stood there like a statue whose foun- 
 dation is undermined. But instead of being 
 agitated, he heard with all tranquillity the lan- 
 guage of a feverish delirium which had posses- 
 sion of his friend. He approached her, to take 
 her hand consolingly. 
 
 " Back ! back ! monster !" cried she, with a 
 savage glance, the ray of whicli was physically 
 perceptible to him ; " back ! touch me no more ! 
 never again — never more, with your devil's 
 claws, which look like human hands ! Get 
 away from me, Satan I I curse you as the most 
 treacherous being on earth ! take yourself off, 
 or J will call the negresses to put you out !" 
 
 Robert made his study in the domain of the 
 higher psychology, as a young physician ob- 
 serves the paroxysms of fever in a patient of 
 whose cure he entertains the most well founded 
 hopes. 
 
 The whole manliness of his character dis- 
 played itself at tliis moment in all its grandeur, 
 as he (contrary to former ebullitions) did not in 
 the least lose his self-possession, but tranquilly 
 heard all these objurgations, and would have 
 withdrawn, if he had not happened to be in his 
 own apartment, which the patient appeared to 
 have forgotten. 
 
 Madame Closting gazed around her with a 
 broken glance, through her tears, looking with- 
 out seeing, then recovered herself, and rising 
 from the armcliair, hastened to the door. .She 
 cast a wandering glance back upon her friend, 
 while she cried out to him, " Monstre que vous 
 etes," and slammed the door after her 
 
 Robert endured the explosion of this " mys- 
 terical " mine with all the tranquillity of a 
 young artillerist, who would be ashamed of him- 
 self if, from the fear of being blown up into 
 the air, he were to resign or desert a position 
 which he had, in the proud consciousness of his 
 manly character, once assumed or entered upon. 
 His heart appeared endued with sublime force. 
 It bore such moments, but his nerves would not 
 endure them; they became physically diseased, 
 through the impression of the scene — the occi- 
 sion of v/luch was dated four years before, and 
 in which he felt himself blameless. He sank 
 into reflection. 
 
 An hour afterwards, as he left the pavilion to 
 enjoy the coolness of the evening air, he beheld 
 Madame Closting on the arm of her husband, 
 walking up and down in the garden, in conver- 
 satisn u|»on domestic affairs, for the improvement 
 of their comfortable arrangements, as if the 
 young lady had never exchanged a word with 
 her neighbor. 
 
 Mr. Closting greeted the young Englishman, 
 and inquired after his health, while the lady 
 contemplated him with a glance of coldness 
 and contempt^that might be pai'doned in her 
 as a woman. Robert felt and endured. He 
 was one of those men who willingly excuse 
 every evil, in so far as they look bacK upon 
 its origin, and do not in the least forget what 
 they have once met with of beautiful, and good, 
 dnd noble. 
 
 Robert recollected in this hour the childlike 
 earnest request of the young Brazilian lady, in 
 tlie presence of Dr. I'horfin, " tiiat he would 
 pardon her if she should ever wound him by 
 her passionate violence," as he had, by anti- 
 cipation, long ago fulfilled this request. The 
 peculiar inward nature of his friend did not 
 appear to him in the least disfigured through 
 these convulsions, which he regarded as the 
 tragical consequences of an incurable nervous 
 disturbance, whose cause he recognised, and 
 whose eflect he endeavoured to bear, as far as 
 his human strength would admit — because he 
 loved.
 
 SIO 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SECRET MKAStJRES. 
 
 Mk. Habakkuk Daily had directed his 
 journey into the interior of the country, towards 
 that town whose charming enviror;s had once 
 so peculiarly fascinated the naturalist's secre- 
 tary, and arrived at the place of his destination 
 the more safely, as the caravan was ordered 
 thither to which he had joined himself at Porto 
 d'Estrela. 
 
 After he had, as Mr. Stone, concluded his 
 successful business with Mr. Schweinfurter, he 
 bore the name of Dujour, under which he could, 
 in case of need, legitimate himself by some 
 family papers. On his arrival at this flourishing- 
 town, he casually made the acquaintance of a 
 young man who was politely helpful to him in 
 obtaining information respecting his father. 
 This yonng man was Mr. Bankoff, (or Banko, 
 as the Brazilians pronounced his name,) who 
 had a situation in a ?nagasin des beaux arts, 
 there. He obtained leave of absence for a week, 
 from his principal, to accompany the grandson 
 of the unfortunate old grimpeiro into the moun- 
 tains, and Mr. Habakkuk at length entered the 
 dwelling of his murdered father, and found his 
 grandfather occupied with his gold washing, as 
 we have before seen. 
 
 The four wives of the murdered man thanked 
 young Mr. Banko with all the lamenting ex- 
 pressions of feeling of good humoured negresses, 
 that he had conducted to them their four-fold 
 stepson, and rejoiced above measure at finding 
 him so well grown and manly, stronger, and 
 already almost larger than his deceased father. 
 
 Mr. Habakkuk had learned, through the 
 authorities of the flourishing town, that his 
 father had been murdered in such a place, and 
 huried in such a place ; that the investigation, 
 and burial, and other expenses, had amounted 
 to so and so much, which sum a certain Senhor 
 Closting had punctually paid, as the former 
 friend of the murdered man. 
 
 Mr. Banko kept a close mouth and a fixed 
 countenance in every conversation with Mr. 
 Habakkuk in relation to the murder — about 
 which he alone could give information ; but lent 
 a serviceable hand to the son in all that concerned 
 the neglected administration of the miserable 
 fazenda, which included the living and lifeless 
 property of the murdered man, that had now 
 fallen into possession of Mr. Habakkuk as heir. 
 
 Strictly as Mr. Banko endeavored to govern 
 glance and speech, and deportment, when the 
 murder became the subject of the daily conver- 
 sation, it, nevertheless, by no means escaped the 
 clever Mr. Habakkuk ; that he knew more than 
 he had told as yet He learned from his four 
 stepmothers, that a valuable diamond belonging 
 to their man must be hidden somewhere — which 
 was valued at about twenty contos. This sum 
 was no trifle, and agreed with all that Mr. 
 Habakk\ik had by degrees heard of the " worth " 
 of his father, (as it is called in English.) 
 
 Mr. Closting, as the intimate friend of the 
 murdered man, had during some days before and 
 after his interment, put the books and papers of 
 the grimpeiro in order, and handed them over 
 to the four women, none of whom could either 
 read or WTilo. 
 
 Mr. Dujo'jr had passed his life as a man of 
 business, and as such had had no friend ; for 
 absolute egotism, which recognises nothing but 
 personal interest, dissolves and disperses all 
 friendship according to the old proverb ; " no 
 friendship in trade." He had recognised no 
 higher aim than to amass property, and no higher 
 enjoyment of life than the satisfaction of his ani- 
 mal necessities in fourfold conjugal life. No 
 one in the neighborhood has sou;;ht intimate as- 
 sociation with him, as he held himself aloof from 
 the world — contracted vvithin his.business, which 
 had been his world. No one had been intimate 
 with him in life who might be able to give in- 
 formation about his ** worth " at'ter his death. 
 
 Mr. Habakkuk repeatedly conversed at largo 
 with Mr. Banko atiout the inquiry alter the dia- 
 mond — which had now become the principal 
 thing with him. As the result of all these con- 
 sultations, the latter revealed to him the possi- 
 bility of falling upon the trace of the diamond in 
 case Mr. Daily would permit him to carry 
 through the aliair as he might think best, in 
 consequence of the heir's remarking, as above 
 mentioned, that the young man who had been 
 acquainted with his father in the last days of his 
 life, knew something which he kept secret, he 
 agreed all the sooner to this proposal — and it 
 was resolved that they should return to Rio de 
 Janeiro in comjiany. 
 
 Mr. BarJio had desired that the negro Fran- 
 cisco might attend them, since he had not only 
 often held in his hand the diamond in question, 
 but had been employed from his childliood in 
 diamond mines, and possessed in the business a 
 certain technical knowledge, by which he might 
 serve as an " expert" in case of need. 
 
 We find the two travellers, attended by Fran- 
 cisco, in the small German tavern in the Rua 
 do Cano — at Rio, where Mr. Habakkuk first ap- 
 peared when he arrived from Buenos Ayres. 
 
 Mr. Banko had made the stipulation Tliat he 
 was to act entirely independently in this aflSiir. 
 and desired his companion to call himself thence- 
 forward, Mr. Stone, or to assume some other 
 name, and to hold himself aloof from all commu- 
 nication with strangers. 
 
 Mr. Habakkuk promised to follow his direc- 
 tions, excepting as far as he was obliged to an- 
 nounce his arrival to the house of Walker &. Co. 
 
 Mr. Banko had no objection to this, and after 
 this visit of announcement had been made, Mr. 
 Daily in a peculiarly excited mood, entered the 
 billiard room in which we once found the Boto- 
 cudan Prince and Dr. Merbold. 
 
 Mei-hold lived from time to time in Rio, and 
 was just playing a game of billiards with Mr. 
 Banko as Mr. Habakkuk called the latter aside. 
 
 The lawful inheritor of the diamond was 
 obliged to restrain his impatience until the game 
 w^vs played out, as the discreet young German 
 wished to avoid all appearance of having any- 
 thing important to say to the Englishman or 
 Frenchman from. Buenos -\yres. 
 
 " Hey ! the devil !" cried Dr. Merbold, looking 
 up from his halls, " there is my fellow voyager 
 
 of the Nordstjernan ! How are you Mr. ? 
 
 what's your name .'" 
 
 " Mr. Vaily," interrupted Habakkuk, inquir- 
 ing likewise alter the health of the entomologist. 
 
 " ilr. Vaily, sure enough ! Have you met Mr. 
 Glostiog, and doae any business with him i He's
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 311 
 
 here now. He has been home about a fortnight. 
 Mr. Fitz will tell you where he lives !" 
 
 The sun ol'tlie murdered man was much em- 
 barrassed, at the retrospect upon his business 
 with Mr. Schweinfurter in the absence of the 
 naturalist — but soon collected himself, however, 
 and with his peculiar assurance answered exactly 
 as lie thoui^ht suitable. 
 
 Mr. Banko had finished his game, and now 
 slowly betook himself to an adjoining apartment, 
 where Mr. Habakkuk seated himself beside him. 
 
 " Only think !" began he, " Mr. Thomson 
 
 has just been talking with me about my journey 
 into those diamond mountains, and told me in- 
 cidentally that he had, within a fortnight, pur- 
 chased a di.imond ffir twenty-two conto di reis, 
 from a naturalist, and when I asked him, quite 
 by accident, what the name of this man was, he 
 mentioned Mr. Closting "' 
 
 Banko started, but collected himself, how- 
 ever, and whispered in his ear : " I counsel you 
 once more, observe my doctrines. Be silent ! 
 Do not let it be observed that you have ever 
 heard the name of Closting. It's bad enough 
 that this old granny, that the entomologist knows 
 you. Remember, as soon as we take a single 
 false step here, we are lost ! our lives are at 
 hazard. You knew long ago that a man's life 
 only costs two patacks to end it." 
 
 ilabakkuk acknowledged the danger, and pro- 
 mised to keep himself passive. 
 
 " Stay at home for some days," whispered the 
 young German, " and I will say that you are 
 eick, exhausted with your journey — they will 
 bring you your meals into your room." 
 
 Mr. Banko returned to a conversation on in- 
 different subjects with Dr. Merbold in the billiard 
 room, and the heir of the grimpeiro retired to 
 the solitude of his sleeping apartment. 
 
 The Baron de Spandau walked with hasty 
 steps back and forth in his private garden before 
 the house of Fortuna. It was midnight, and the 
 clear starlight came glimmering down. He 
 seemed to expect some one, and did not remove 
 but a few steps from the gate — that he might be 
 at hand hiniielf when the bell rang. The blinds 
 of the upper story were closed. Bebida tottled 
 round in the lower part of the house ; otherwise 
 all was dark and still. 
 
 There was a gentle ringing, and the baron hur- 
 ried to the gate. Senhor de Monte Video came 
 down the steps— with him was a young negro. 
 
 " That is the Senhor who w'ants to speak to 
 you, take notice of him that you may know him 
 again," whispered Senhor Prole. 
 
 " Si Senhor," said the negro. " What is your 
 name ?' inquired tlie baron. 
 
 " Moloch." 
 
 " 1 wish to order you to come to the island of 
 Cobras, and will designate the place to you. 
 Will you know me again ?" 
 
 " .Si Senhor," replied the negro, staring sharply 
 at tile " Senhor Branco." 
 
 " There's a millreis for your walk this even- 
 ing ; now you can go." 
 
 " Si Senhor," said the negro again, and Sen- 
 hor de Monte Video gave him a rendezvous for 
 the next day, and let him out of the gate. 
 
 A long pause ensued. A lean snake glided 
 obliquely across the path upon which both stood. 
 The leaves of the bananas rustled slowly in the 
 
 zephyr of the tropical midnight. Nothing else 
 stirred. 
 
 " He is going to sea about this time," began 
 the principal spy, " or at least designs to go to 
 sea. If he takes this Astrala outside of the Su- 
 gar Loaf, then an expedition to Santa Catharina 
 is of no avail, or at least its consequences are 
 very uncertain." 
 
 " He must then be despatched beforehand, I 
 see that," replied Senhor Prole ; " and this negro 
 is safe. He is horribly ill used, and would stab 
 ten whites instead of one for a tritle — if they are 
 only white. The fellow breathes nothing but 
 revenge." 
 
 " Very well. I rely upon your choice — and 
 besides, * dead men tell no tales,' especially as 
 the fellow whom he is to despatch, is more mis- 
 chievous than ten furoupilhas." 
 
 " That will very naturally be our protection," 
 assented the blood broker. 
 
 " Come in and take a glass of wine !" said the 
 baron, after a long pause. 
 
 Senhor Prole accepted the invitation, and both 
 seated themselves at the round table in the front 
 room of the villa. 
 
 " Dabedicadem," muttered Bebida, as she 
 brought t;lasses and bottles, and awaited a glass 
 tor herself, and a second for Senhora Fortuna. 
 
 Her wish was complied with, but she found 
 the door fastened which led into Sally's room — 
 and supposed that it was bolted on the inside 
 and that Senhora P'ortuna was asleep. She 
 placed the glass upon the table in the front room 
 of the upper story, and went into the garden and 
 laid down upon a bench — to rest after the day's 
 work. 
 
 Sally was at her post at the key hole of the 
 alcove, and observed the countenance of the 
 baron and the movement of his lips when he 
 spoke, as soon as he had taken his place at the 
 table. He was singularly pale, as if he were ill. 
 
 " He cannot very well be despatched until the 
 evening of the day after to-morrow," began the 
 spy, after he had emptied a couple of glasses. 
 
 " He will not be ready before then either," 
 replied Prole, drinking likewise. " Mr. Fitz is 
 still arranging an instrument for him — an astro- 
 nomical circle, or whatever the thing is called — 
 and he often works a little slowly." 
 
 " Moloch must then wait in the evening until 
 he steps into his boat from the stairs at the quay 
 
 Dos Pescadores, and hand him the , and give 
 
 him the rest," continued the Baron, looking un- 
 easily around him, as if he wished to satisfy him- 
 self that he spoke unheard. 
 
 " He must then step into a boat in the neigh- 
 borhood," said Prole, " row up to the captain's 
 boat, give him the stroke, and pull him imme- 
 diately into the water — before his people can 
 prevent it." 
 
 " Very well, very well," replied the chief, 
 rising. It seemed as if something wrought upoa 
 him, as if he must look around alter the doors 
 which led into the alcoves — but nothing was 
 there. 
 
 Sally had remarked that her looking through 
 the old hollowed out keyhole without a metal 
 guard, had produced this ellcct upon the man 
 which he experienced ; as our glance is able, 
 perhaps, in the box of a theatre, to cause a persoa 
 to look around at us — if it possess auificieat 
 magnetic fluid.
 
 312 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 She feareil, hy a continuance of this eye-strike, 
 to expose herself to danger, and leaving the 
 alcove, she found herself upon the stairs in an 
 instant, and soon in the front room, where Bebida 
 had phced the wine. Then she felt herself in 
 security, since she could easily regain her own 
 room. She had heard enough — more than enough 
 Her heart throbbed almost to bursting. She 
 looked around her as if seeking for help. She 
 felt herself alone and forsaken, and consoled 
 herself with the thought that Lucy would be 
 there on the next day for more work. 
 
 " A young German h;is arrived with Mr. 
 Daily, who was formerly in Mr. Closting's ser- 
 vice, and will go out in the .'\strala — as a cadet, 
 or somethiui; of the military sort." 
 
 " That's like him. The fellow is also infected 
 with the ideas of " Young Europe" — reads pro- 
 hibited books, and sings rebel songs at his wine!" 
 
 " Our Patrick does not appear to stand in 
 connexion witli the opposite party ." 
 
 " Why do you think so ?" 
 
 " Beca\ise he stays with you, and does not go 
 out in the .^strata." 
 
 " Hem," returned the baron thoughtfully, " I 
 don't take that for any proof of his doctrine. He 
 may conceal something else behind it; at least 
 I shall not take him with me on board the Santa 
 Catharina. Apropos," continued he, " have you 
 taken care of the letter for Captain Tumble !" 
 
 " I sent it to the post by Patrick." 
 
 " Why did you not take it yourself?" 
 
 " Because I then saw the negro, Moloch, pass- 
 ing, just as I had sealed it — and was obliged to 
 hurry after him and call him aside. It was 
 
 impossible for me to go to his furious masters 
 after him, and it was exactly the time to put the 
 letter in tlie mail bag for Santos." 
 
 " Well, we will hope that it may be taken 
 care of. I see very well that you could not be 
 in the two places at once. Patrick has not yet 
 given any ground for suspicion. He is very 
 punctual in all that we entrust to him — never- 
 theless — prudence on our part is always neces- 
 sary . How did you find the Captain of the 
 
 Caza .■' what sort of fellow is he .'" 
 
 " A brutal Englislunan — coarse towards every 
 body that is subordinate to him ; but he was 
 tolerably cordial with me. It seemed to be of 
 importance to him to capture Dolores — and Hi- 
 nango, if he could catch him ! I believe he 
 would even let Dolores go for that, for he knows 
 all that happened to the cutter. A sailor has 
 returned to Buenos Ayres, and reported that Hi- 
 nango commanded the Nordstjernan at that time, 
 and cut away the masts of the cutter." 
 
 " The cursed fellow, nevertheless, belongs to 
 me. Captain Tumble may have claims upon 
 Dolores — I know what price is set upon Hinan- 
 go's head, and of that no one shall receive a per 
 centage but you, Senhor Prole." 
 
 " I thank you. Monsieur le Baron. You are 
 very right. I deserve also, in fact, an indemni- 
 fication for the caning in Monte Video." 
 
 " That you shall have, if Moloch aims his 
 stroke well." 
 
 " Captain Tumble will not, however, wait an 
 hour after the arrival of the mail from Rio He is 
 a decided fellow. I explained to him, however, 
 that you are just as punctual, Monsieur le Baron, 
 and just as decided." 
 
 " Even allowing that the letter should miss 
 
 him in Santos, it would be sent directly to Buenos 
 Ayres ; the address of the Caza is sutficient, and 
 there are yet six weeks — seven weeks — . Ho 
 can still easily come back from La Plata river to 
 Santa Catharina." 
 
 " Certaitily," assented Senhor Prole, emptying 
 his glass, and after drinking another, took leave, 
 for it was very late. 
 
 ? #%^#^.^MW— 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE INVISIBLE HAND. 
 
 HiNANGo had received, through Patrick, the 
 baron's letter, which should have been despatched 
 by mail to Captain Tumble, of the brig La Caza, 
 in the road of Santos. He hastened to commu- 
 nicate it to his friend Dr. Thorfin. It ran as 
 follows : 
 
 " At your desire, which has been made known 
 to me by Senhor P , and as you expect a writ- 
 ten assurance on my part, before you seek, under 
 some pretence or other, the permission of your 
 admiralty to anchor at the appointed time in the 
 road of Santa Catharina, I take the liberty to 
 offer you the following explanation. 
 
 *' The expedition for the appointed object can- 
 not take place from here before the lath of 
 March. I pledge myself, however, (in ease sick- 
 ness or death shciuld not overtake me before that 
 time,) to manage the embarkation here on the 
 said 15th of March, and to set sail for Santa Ca- 
 tharina on the same day. 
 
 " I desire you, therefore, to calculate the time 
 which a sailing vessel (dependant on wind and 
 weather) will require to arrive there, and to 
 await me there in company with the appointed 
 object. 
 
 " That you may know the vessel on board of 
 which I am, I will cause a white flag with a 
 green wreath to be hoisted on the foremast so 
 soon as I see a vessel of war wliich is likely to 
 be yours. 
 
 " I will take care that the schooner brig which 
 is equipping here as a man-of-war, under the 
 X**'** flag, shall not take me under convoy, nor 
 arrive there before me. Should, however, this 
 (or any other man-ot'-war under an enemy's fliig) 
 obstruct the delivery of the aforesaid object on 
 board of your brig, then I desire you to do all in 
 your power to destroy the hostile sail, and in 
 case of urgent necessity I will land first at Santa 
 Catharina. 
 
 " According to your desire, I also declare that 
 I am ready to share the sum with you, which is 
 held forth for the expedition of the object, and 
 empower you to make this document available 
 as a guarantee in this aft'air, according to your 
 pleasure. 
 
 " Should it be impossible, for me (notwith- 
 standing all my cares and endeavors) to deliver 
 the person aforesaid to you, on board of your 
 vessel, I have, nevertheless, claims upon the sum 
 which is ofl'ered for the discovery of the same, 
 and offer in the above case to share the same 
 with you likewise ; as I shall, on the other hand, 
 take care in the same case to fullil the comiois-
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 313 
 
 slon — with which those in high places have 
 honored me," etc., etc. 
 
 " Our Patrick deserves to be set in gold !" ob- 
 served Dr. Thorfin, when he had read the above 
 letter, '* and we know now where we are." 
 
 " The afTair is now in our hands !" remarked 
 Hinango, " since Captain Tumble evidently will 
 not come to Santa Calharina, as this document 
 is wanting for his guarantee, which he, as we 
 perceive hag made a stipulation. Horatio must 
 be in Rio Grande now, and we may reckon with 
 certainty that the Mazzini will be found at Santa 
 Catharina before tlie 1.5th of March — let him 
 be where he may, even if he were now in Monte 
 Video, our communication through Horatio will 
 find him." 
 
 " Fewer difficulties appear now to stand in the 
 way of our plan than I had feared at the begin- 
 ning," observed Thorfin. " In any case, how- 
 ever, Robert must be on board, for without him 
 Dolores would be constantly exposed to the so 
 called care of the old widower, and to the vil- 
 lany of the baron." 
 
 " I see that well," assented Hinango. " In 
 Robert's attendance she can, perhaps, in case of 
 the most urgent need, fly to Barigaldi or to me, 
 and save herself. Robert would, in such a case, 
 show all the firmness of his character, which 
 we have hitherto become acquainted with, apart 
 from his unfortunate relations to his neighbor." 
 
 The doctor was silent, and seemed not willing 
 to express the anxiety which Hinango himself 
 participated in, without giving way to it for the 
 moment. 
 
 " I am, above all things, now anxious about 
 you, however," said Dr. Thorfin, interrupting the 
 ensuing silence. " Take care of yourself Ormur : 
 you may expect a dagger — a stab at two patakos 
 any evening !" 
 
 " I am convinced of that. It must be a sudden 
 attack backwards, over the shoulder, if I do not 
 ward oft' the blow. You know I never go un- 
 armed, and especially in the evening." 
 
 Mr. Fit3 interrupted the conversation ; he 
 made his appearance with Mr. Banko, who had 
 begged him to conduct him to Dr. Thorfin's. 
 
 Banko requested the doctor to allow him a 
 few words in private, which request was imme- 
 diately granted, and the doctor went aside with 
 him. 
 
 The young German explained, after a brief 
 preface, that he came about a particular affair, in 
 which he required the confidence of a man like 
 Dr. Thorfin, in order to be able to fulfil his duty. 
 
 *' You know Mr. George Thomson," continued 
 he. " I have learnt that thi gentleman has not 
 long since purchased a diamond worth about 
 twenty contos. Without expressing the least 
 suspicion, accusation, or assertion, against any 
 person whatever, I beg you to procure me the 
 opportunity of seeing the diamond, in company 
 with a negro who serves me, and in your pres- 
 ence — I require nothing further. The result of 
 this inspection will then perhaps lead to some- 
 thing more." 
 
 Dr. Thorfin observed the young man with pe- 
 culiar attention as he listened to him. The open 
 unembarrassed mien which we have already de- 
 signated in Mr. Banko, had something prepos- 
 sessing. The subject of the request was, more- 
 over, not so significant in itself as the result 
 40 
 
 might prove to be, according to a sudden suspi- 
 cion which was aroused in the doctor. 
 
 " When do you wish me to introduce you to 
 Mr. Thomson .'" inquired he, after a brief reflec- 
 tion upon the awakened suspicion. 
 
 " So soon as possible, perhaps to-day or to- 
 morrow if it is agreeable to you. I will be hero 
 as soon as you lilce it." 
 
 " Very well," replied Dr. Thorfin, " then I 
 will desire Mr. Thomson to take the diamond to 
 town with him, to save us the distance to Bota- 
 Fogo," and both again returned to the room to 
 Captain Hinango and Mr. Fitz. 
 
 Mr. Fitz had conducted the young German to 
 Captain Hinango the day before, that he might 
 engage him as " a fifth wheel to the waggon," 
 on board the Astrala, {as the air pump control- 
 ler expressed himself,) which Senhor Prole, like 
 a zealous deputy spy, had already learnt, since 
 having been introduced to the astronomer by Mr. 
 Closting, and often went there. Hinango did 
 not appear disinclined to place the young man 
 under some charge or other, either as clerk or 
 purser, or as cadet of the marines ; and con- 
 cluded the engagement, in case Mr. Banko could 
 be ready for departure in three days. 
 
 The latter was in the highest degree rejoiced 
 at this, since his plan stood in connexion with 
 the undertaking for the designation of the mur- 
 derer — that he might, in case of need, immedi- 
 ately find safety somewhere, in the event that, a 
 dagger might also be directed against him. 
 
 We leave the chacara in the neighborhood of 
 Nossa Senhora da Gloria, and hasten into the 
 lonely silent street near the Campo da Santa 
 Anna, where Sally awaited Lucy, her seam- 
 stress, with increasing impatience, upon whose 
 appearance Hinango's life now depended — inso- 
 much as she alone could be made the medium ot 
 warning. 
 
 The forenoon passed away, and still Lucy did 
 not come. A little negro girl made her appear- 
 ance in her place, with the insignificant gar- 
 ment which was carried back and forth as a 
 pretext for intercourse. 
 
 " Senhora Lucy sick — hab fever — can't come," 
 reported the negro girl. 
 
 Sally had already, since that moment in the 
 alcove, experienced likewise a sort of fever, and 
 truly a very violent one, and now was almost in 
 despair, as good counsel was more precious than 
 ever. 
 
 How in the world should she, directly or in- 
 directly, convey to Captain Hinango the warn- 
 ing which might protect him from the stroke of 
 Moloch's dagger .' 
 
 The baron had already almost conceived sus- 
 picions, as the result of Sally's espionage had 
 not fallen out entirely to his satisfaction. .Should 
 she write a few words and send them to the 
 post .' through whom ? throug the negro girl, 
 who hardly knew whether a post office was 
 " eaten with a fork or a spoon .'" 
 
 Should she send her chamber maid, Bebida, 
 to Da Gloria .' Little as Dabedicadem might be 
 worth, (according to English human valuation,) 
 Sally might, nevertheless, be certain that Dabe- 
 dicadem would be stolen, as she had never been 
 in the street yet, excepting when she had been 
 taken to auction to be sold, or when she went 
 out to get water from the next fountain, or when 
 she was sold again.
 
 su 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Sally had hitherto strictly declined entering 
 into personal intercourse with Captain Hinango 
 or Dr. Thorliii, on manifold grounds, amonjjst 
 which prudence predominated, which slie was 
 obliijed to observe for the rescue of Dolores. 
 
 She dismissed the negro girl, with the re.|Uest 
 that she would, in any case, come again on the 
 following day, dressed in her best, as she de- 
 sired her attendance* for a walk, without having 
 as yet formed any resolution what she should 
 do," and whom she should seek. 
 
 At the hour which he had designated to Mo- 
 loch, through Prole, the Baron de Spandau went 
 to the island of Cobras, to the southeast corner 
 of the wall of the " house of correction," the most 
 suitable rendezvous which he could possibly 
 have appointed — for it was silent, and deserted, 
 and solitary tliere. 
 
 Three wandering negro musicians, slaves of a 
 speculator, who made use of their talent for his 
 own gain, had formed a group in the shade of a 
 high wall, fur a general rehearsal of their in- 
 teresting concert. 
 
 One, a gloomy Mandengo, played the melan- 
 choly sounding Marhimba, the half of a gourd, 
 with nine steel springs of different strength in- 
 side, which, touched like the keys of a piano- 
 forte, produced a hollow, expressive harmony. 
 A tall Con^o plaved his favorite national in- 
 strument, the Oi'o-Congo, the gourd fiddle, 
 whilst a robust Kabenda beat the Sacca-socca, 
 a half dozen of quasi kettle drums, likewise the 
 halves of gourds, of various sizes, covered with 
 leather, and variously tuned. All these seemed 
 wholly absorbed in their art, with true enthu- 
 siasm, and without regarding the unhappy Kir- 
 raboo, who, for the time, alone formed the sole 
 audience to the concert. It was Piloloch ; he 
 stood there, with his empty basket beside him, 
 as negre de gagne,t who was going about in 
 pursuit of business. 
 
 The Senhor Branco whom he had seen the 
 evening before by moonlight, now appeared to 
 him in the clear light of the sun as bad as he 
 was. 
 
 The Kirraboo approached him in a quiet, iso- 
 lated, and solitarv corner of the colossal walls. 
 
 Moloch was a distinguished young negro from 
 the race of the Kirraboos, in the interior of 
 Afric.i, near the equator — an Ethiopian ai-isto- 
 cv.-it— a young man " of good family," descended 
 from parents who were richer in gold dust than 
 the baron in baseness— and that is saying a great 
 deal. He v-.'as about seventeen years old, with a 
 perfectly well made body, of middling stature, 
 and well knit. His countenance was adorjied 
 with artificial warts, from the middle of the fore- 
 head, down to the point of the nose. 
 
 In the endless wars of the Ethiopian tribes 
 amongst themselves, he was transp.irted to the 
 coast as prisoner, tliere sold or exchanged for a 
 couple of pieces of calico, and not long before, 
 had been disembarked, with three or four hun- 
 dred of his black country people, from various 
 tribes, not far from the bay of Santa Anna. 
 
 • No woman, of whatever class she-may l)e, excepting 
 slaves, walks out in Rio witliout the attendance ol a 
 man or maiit-servaol. 
 
 t ihcse fuimeilv designated ni-gres de gagne carry, 
 without i;xceptioui on tticir heads, a Bat wide basket, ol 
 about four feet square. 
 
 Moloch had never seen a white man until he 
 fell into the hands of the slave trader, who put 
 him in chains, and biought him chained across 
 the ocean. He had been ill used by white men, 
 and treated, while on board, as one of a drove 
 of cattle that is taken to market— abused by 
 whites before he had been sold to a white man 
 in Rio de Janeiro, who required of him to un 
 derstand wliat he was ordered to do in Portu 
 guese, and ordered him daily some hundred 
 lashes " because he was a stupid headstrong 
 brute, that would not hear and would not obey." 
 .Senhor Prole, the accidental witness of such 
 usage, had recognised in him "his man," and 
 given him to understand what was necessary. 
 
 Moloch, with every hour, foamed with more 
 savage fury against the whites, and the oppor- 
 tunity of despatching a single white man was to 
 him a real joy, as a diminution of the debt 
 which he and his colored brethren claimed from 
 the whites. 
 
 " Your name is Moloch, and you know me ?" 
 said the baron to him. 
 
 " Si Senhor," replied the distinguished negro 
 from the equator. 
 
 " Do you see the schooner brig there, with 
 the blue' and white flag : — blue, like the sky, 
 and white, like my linen : do you understand?" 
 
 " Si Senhor — little — black-^mast, so " 
 
 he indicated the oblique direction of the masU 
 of the Astrala. 
 
 " Do you know where the stairs Dos Pesca- 
 dores are— the landing place up there .'" 
 
 " Si Senhor! landing place Dos Pescadores! 
 boat — canoe — much — capitaons — much I" 
 
 •' Well, take notice of the boat of the captain 
 from the schooner brig ; pass over to-day, and 
 to-morrow, and the day after to-morrow." 
 
 " Si Senhor ! boat — schoon— brig — capitaon 
 — to-day — to-morrow — si Senhor, and to-morrow 
 again ! Si Senhor." 
 
 The spv took his hat, and made use of it as 
 the model of a boat. " See here, the boat is 
 black outside, with a white strijie on the edge." 
 " Si Ser.hor— black— white stiMpe on edge." 
 " Inside vellaw, like this straw hat." 
 " Si Senhor— inside vellow, like this straw 
 hat. 
 
 " And behind them is a star, painted on the 
 left here !" 
 
 " A star, si Senhor — left — here !" 
 " The captain is something taller than T — 
 slender— dark hair — straight nose — with mous- 
 taches." 
 
 " With moustaches !" exclaimed the negro in- 
 quiringly, and did not appear rejoiced by this 
 intimation, which may be explained by the pe- 
 cuUot preference which the negroes universally 
 entertain for those whites who wear mmistaclies 
 — since they distinguish them from the English 
 and other trades-people who consider and treat 
 the negro as merchandise. 
 
 The baron appeared not to remark this scru- 
 ple of the Ethiopian, and continued , 
 
 " He is dressed like me — in black merino 
 frock coat — entirely black— and wears a straw 
 hat, like this." 
 
 " Dressed like me— black— all black — si Sen- 
 
 j hor," reiterated the Ethiopian. 
 
 I " Like me ! stupid fellow — you are almiist 
 
 naked, and your pantaloons are a grayish white '." 
 
 I interrupted the baron, and now designated to
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 315 
 
 him the hour when the captain on the following 
 er third evening would probably get into his boat 
 at the stairs D03 Pescadores. AH tiie rest he 
 had already arranged through Senhor Prole. 
 
 Moloch now received for the present, five 
 millreis to buy himself a dagger, in case he could 
 not hire one ! Five millreis, was a monstrous 
 capital for a negre de gagne — and the two sepa- 
 rated 
 
 Moloch hastened to the shore and entered a 
 negro boat hollowed out of the trunk of a single 
 tree, with whose conductor he made an agree- 
 ment that he should take him on an excursion, 
 and then rowed around one vessel after another, 
 till they came to the Astrala, where he observed 
 very attentively the captain's boat which lay 
 alongside, so that he might know it again at the 
 stairs Dos Pescadores. It was now so much the 
 easier for him to find " his man," who would step 
 into this boat as captain. 
 
 Sally did her best at the baron's nightly visit, 
 to manifest her jovial humor, and to mount to 
 the highest possible extravagance. She played 
 the guitar with true passion, and sang her fa- 
 vorite song, " Tlie devil take melancholy," etc., 
 and jestingly informed her friend of the expira- 
 tion of her service, as she observed she had 
 claims upon an eternal " leave of absence," as she 
 had served him sufficiently, and announced her 
 intention of going to sea as sailor, to hunt for 
 snipes in Australia. 
 
 The baron made earnest out of the jest, with 
 out suspecting that she in fact entertained the 
 design of parting from him, since he informed 
 her that he was going to Bahia after a few weelcs, 
 and unhappily could not very well take her 
 with him. 
 
 She managed as well as she could to express 
 her sorrow on that account, in the most touching 
 manner possible, and had now the desired occa' 
 sion for sinking into reflection, for which she 
 had rich materials in her troubled mind. 
 
 The time arrived at which Dr. Thorfin, with 
 Mr. Banko and the negro Francisco, from the 
 diamond mountains, made their appearance in 
 Mr. Thomson's cabinet, where the latter showed 
 them the diamond. 
 
 " That's he !" cried the expert negro, as he 
 contemplated the stone, " that's he !" and durst 
 say no more, since the young German had sti-ictly 
 forbidden him to betray, even by a look, on what 
 grounds this inspection took place. 
 
 " Can this diamond have been sold to a third 
 or fourth person, and originally stolen ?" in- 
 quired Mr. Thomson of the doctor, who was 
 contemplating, with a searching glance, the 
 countenances of the negro and the young German. 
 
 " Very possible, replied Thorfin ; how often 
 has such a diamond already been transferred by 
 unrighteous means !" 
 
 " As regards my purchase," continued Mr. 
 Thomson, " I have it from very honest hands — 
 from a man whom you know, and against whom 
 I cannot naturally entertain any suspicion." 
 
 " That is certainly not the question," remarked 
 Thorfin, in an indifferent tone. 
 
 " To be sure not," affirmed Mr. Banko, " al- 
 though the honesty of many Europeans who 
 transact business here with large sums is fre- 
 quently not so genuine as the diamond." 
 
 " Very acutely and justly observed," replied 
 the Englishman — and Mr. Banko returned thanks 
 for the favor, apologized for having interrupted 
 Mr. Thomson in his business, and withdrew 
 with his negro. 
 
 " Can there have been unfair dealing with 
 this dianiond ?' began Mr. Thomson, in a low 
 voice to Dr. Thorfin, when they were alone. 
 " One hears so much and so many things about 
 this Mr. Closting, and — nevertheless he stands 
 in high repute here with some of the ministers, 
 and has been a sort of charge d'affaires accred- 
 ited from here to different legations, concerning 
 colonization and the like, as I have learned 
 through our friend, His E.tcellency Von Knip- 
 hausen." 
 
 All that may very well agree with rascality," 
 observed the other ; " it is well known that the 
 most thoroughgoing intriguants pursue in our 
 time the most fortunate career, especially at 
 monarchical courts, which could not longer sub- 
 sist without such creatures." 
 
 " That becomes more and more clear to me," 
 returned Mr. Thomson. " But in our commer- 
 cial world also, we have most confoundedly 
 clever fellows. Just think what has happened 
 to us. We had two boxes of Chili stones — a 
 very superior assortment ; there were sapphires 
 among them worth fifty pounds sterling a piece ; 
 they were smuggled from on board a vessel be- 
 fore Buenos Ayres, and back again into the city, 
 because the captain would not take thfln with 
 him — were well sealed — carefully kept. The 
 boxes went to Hamburg, and were destined for 
 St. Petersburg, exported as minerals ; and what 
 do you think ! when the boxes were opened in 
 Hamburg, there was just nothing in them but 
 worthless minerals ! as they were called on the 
 smuggling bill of lading. Is not that a cursedly 
 clever theft .' But where did it take place .' and 
 who has carried it through ? God knows. We 
 have perfectly safe people in our service, upon 
 whom no suspicion can fall ! the captains were 
 just as honest ; and now explain the joke, if you 
 can ! — Old Mr. Walker, in Buenos Ayres, 
 laughed himself almost ill about the clever fel- 
 low who has so imposed upon us. — Let him 
 be who he may, he is a clever fellow, that all 
 must admit !" 
 
 Dr. Thorfin could not avoid laughing with 
 Mr. Thomson at himself, and at the letter of old 
 Mr. Walker, which he communicated to him. 
 He acc^mpanied his friend to tlie exchange, 
 where they parted — with the expectation of 
 soon seeing each other again in Bota Fogo. 
 
 Sally could hardly await for the arrival of the 
 little negro girl on the same forenoon. The 
 little one appeared neatly washed and dressed, to 
 walk behind Senhora Fortuna, or Mrs. Adams, 
 as deputy chambermaid. But, whither should 
 Sally turn her steps .'' to captain Hinango, on 
 board the Astrala .' That would be as improper 
 as unsuitable. To the young painter at the 
 academy, under the pretext of observing the 
 paintings and statues ? He had gone away to 
 Rio Grande, long ago. To .\lvarez de la Barca 
 He was in the fortress Do-Vilcalhon as a state 
 prisoner. To Dr. Thorfin, whose dwelling she 
 certainly could probably find, as Lucy had de- 
 scribed it to her .' He appeared (lie only person 
 to whom she could confide Hinaugo's fate. But
 
 316 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 to arrive at the Gloria she would be obliged to 
 go through the principal street, which led past 
 there towards Bota Fogo, and she knew long 
 ao-o that her successor, the future Baroness de 
 Spandau, lived there, and that her friend rode 
 back and fortli through the street daily, at vari- 
 ous times. 
 
 If he should meet her, what pretext should 
 she assume, in case he encountered her not far 
 from the abode of the physician > To meet lier 
 out tliere would be sufficient to create sbspicion 
 against her ; for in case she reiiuired a phy- 
 sician, her friend would see to it tiiat one should 
 come to her. 
 
 All these considerations remained in her way, 
 and she did not know what was to be done. 
 Suddenly it occurred to her tliat Lucy had told 
 her of Signora Serafini, to whom she had been 
 recommended a.s seamstress by Dr. Thorfin. 
 
 " Did you ever wait upon Miss Lucy to the 
 lady from Bahia, whose hu.-iband is a prisoner 
 here in the fortress upon the bay .'" inquired 
 she of the little negro girl. 
 
 " .Si Senhora ! at Pray" Granda. Si Senhora !' 
 
 " You know her house then ; you know where 
 she lives .'" 
 
 " Si Senhora ! know where she lives — little 
 house — yellow— door green — know where she , 
 lives." I 
 
 " In Heaven's name then !" sighed Sally, and 
 hastily made her toilet as simply and properly 
 as her destination and the aim of her visit re- 
 quired. 
 
 stances) to the lady of a state prisoner, who, 
 watched by the secret police, dreaded all inter- 
 course with strangers ; the name and the little 
 attendant of Lucy, nevertheless, served to ob- 
 viate all difficulty. 
 
 But there, for the first time, as she was obliged 
 to eiicouriter the searching and inquiring gaze 
 of the servants, did the danger to which she 
 had o.vposed herself fall heavily upon her 
 heart. 
 
 The prudence of the lady, in not permitting 
 the entrance of any person who might serve the 
 police as a spy, intimated to the poor girl the 
 watchfulness with which the police probably 
 observed her; and if the baron should ever 
 
 learn that she had been there she would be 
 
 lost. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 FEM.4.LE CHARACTER. 
 
 Sally walked over the Campo da Santa Anna 
 accompanied by her little female servant.through 
 the brilliant Rua do Ouvidor, the long, narrow, 
 coquettish and self-selling Brazilian Paris : Rich i 
 in bijouterie, luxury, and milliners' shops, and j 
 not less rich in materials fur a dozen novels, if 
 the female inhabitants would reveal their Mys- 
 teries, which they have transported to Brazil 
 from Havre, or Marseilles, or Bordeaux. 
 
 She walked slowly furtlier and further around 
 the right hand corner, into the Kua Uireita — 
 across the Largo do Pazo, where the German 
 " Philosopher* of the Largo do Pazo" was walk- 
 ing back and Ibrth, as usual, with his harlequin 
 cap, who, while he lived quite comfortably on 
 the benevolence of the citizens, made himself 
 very merry behind their backs about the " fools 
 without caps, who worked for him that he 
 might go promenading." 
 
 Sally arrived at the Imperial Palace, and at 
 length on board the steamer that went to Praya 
 Grande. 
 
 After a delightful excursion, she stepped out 
 on the opposite shore of the bay, and followed 
 the little negro girl to the garden-house which 
 Signora Serafini inhabited. 
 
 Difficult as it might have been in any other 
 case to obtain admission (under existing circum- 
 
 • A well linown beggar in Rio. 
 
 Signora Serafini inhabited a chacara upon an 
 elevation at Praya Grande, not far trom San Do- 
 mingo, whose site afl'orded a view of the fortress 
 Do-Vilcalhon, where her husband was confined 
 in chains. 
 
 The window of an unpretending furnished 
 apartment overlooked that wonderful " compo- 
 sition of nature," which the variously animated . 
 bay in the foreground, and the colossal chain of 
 mountains offer, above which the jagged points 
 of the "Corcovado" and the " Tijouca"' rose so 
 majestically. 
 
 The wife of the imprisoned faroupilha chose 
 this window as her favorite spot, and seemed to 
 be similarly fettered there with invisible chains, 
 as he in his dungeon to an iron ring in the floor. 
 .Angelica's body sat there at the embroidering 
 frame, at her writing desk, or before a book, 
 while her soul lingered near that " half of her 
 being," whose unity neither the space nor any 
 violent separation could dissolve. 
 
 The before mentioned chain of mountains did 
 certainly rise majestically above the here and 
 there cultivated and luxuriously verdant hills 
 and slopes, at the foot of which lay the capital 
 of the empire, with its shining cupolas and 
 steeples. The moveable " staffage " of the mag- 
 nificent painting was changed every moment in 
 manifold variations, by the innumerable sails 
 of every size, from the " floating world " of a 
 shi4) of the line, to the miserable negro canoe, 
 in which the Ethiopian fisherman fastens a 
 piece of linen to the broken shaft of a young 
 tree. The restless, stirring life fluctuated up and 
 down, in all imaginable Ibrms, before -Angelicas 
 sight, from the first suddenly streaming r.iys of 
 the morning sun, until the evening twilight, or 
 the transition in the day-bright moonlight. 
 
 A thousand objects, from that world of sails 
 upwards into the clouds, which rested from 
 time to time upon the tops of the mountains, 
 would have attracted the attention of any ob- 
 server at that window. Angelica's look flew 
 over the earthly paradise from San Christova 
 to the " Sugar Loaf," without lingering upon 
 any point of the inexhaustibly rich picture-— 
 except one. It was the mass of stone, which, 
 rising upon rocks, formed the fortress Do-Vil- 
 calhon, washed and surrounded by the mirror 
 clear element, that splashed at the foot of the 
 hill upon which she dwelt, and had, in a mea- 
 sure, become a means of connexion between the 
 prisoner and his wife. 
 1 Angelica's gaze rested for hours upon the per-
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 817 
 
 \ 
 
 pendictllar, p;igantic walls, distant from her 
 Several Eni^lish miles, from whose port holes 
 the colossal mouths yawned towards her, whose 
 rattling thunder would be the only language 
 that would bear any greeting from her husband 
 in the fortress to her at Praya Orande. 
 
 Those magic charms of nature around about 
 her seemed to have lost their attractive effect 
 upon Angelica's mind. As far as they heightened 
 by the contrast of the splendor and magnificence, 
 of the beauty and luxuriousness, of the grandeur 
 and variety, so much the more the pain of sepa- 
 ration, the consciousness of the loneliness that 
 penetrated the unfortunate lady. 
 
 There is a threefold unity of being upon 
 earth ; we will describe it here : The platonic, 
 (or spiritual,) the animatic, (or unity of the 
 soul,) and the animal, (unity of the flesh ;) but 
 the last is only a momentary union. 
 
 The Platonic Unity is the spiritual connexion, 
 without a particular merging into one, of the 
 animatic life, by the nerve fluid. 
 
 The Animatic Unity is formed by the merging 
 and mutual dissolution of two souls in the myste- 
 rious moments of the outstreamingand receiving 
 of that vital fluid, of the ray of the glance, that 
 seems to flow from the whole body. It is the 
 unity by a mutual giving and receiving of the 
 *' fluid of life," the dissolution of the existence 
 of both in one being. 
 
 The animatic unity presumes the platonic 
 (spiritual) unity; it is founded upon it, and can- 
 not take place without it, as it requires a like 
 depth of feeling, a like degree of development, 
 of the inward life. 
 
 The platonic unity of two beings of different 
 sexes involuntarily strives after animatic unity ; 
 it is the natural condition of the attraction of the 
 inward life itself 
 
 The third (so called) unity, is the " Unity of 
 the flesh" as the scriptures designate it and the 
 church privileges it. It is a " formal unity" 
 without regard to mind and soul, about which 
 the church concerns itself the least, when it re- 
 ceives the " flesh tax." 
 
 The platonic unity represents the Spirit, 
 (mind,) the animatic the Soul, the Mosaic, (imity 
 of the flesh,) the Body, (sensuality.) 
 
 In pursuance of this definition, the sacrament 
 of marriage (as the privilege of the Mosaic unity 
 of the flesh) is also confined, in accordance with 
 the New Testament, only to physical existence, 
 without reference to the inward life either here 
 or hereatT;er. 
 
 The Mosaic unity (of the flesh) shows us man 
 in the state of animal desire, (lust,) as far as he 
 leaves father and mother and cleaves to a wo- 
 man from sensuality. The church privileged 
 sensuality, when it fixed the sacrament of mar- 
 riage without regard to soul and mind, to char- 
 acter, heart, or morality. 
 
 Animatic unity is the bond of Divine love, 
 illustrated in human nature. This unity is the 
 triumph of life. In accordance with the regula- 
 tions of the world, it does not generally evade 
 the marriage ceremony ; it is of too noble a na- 
 ture to cheat the church of its " tax." The 
 formal social ceremony of marriage, appears to 
 the lovers in animatic unity subordinate in the 
 highest degree ; fpr there is certainly no need of 
 any compulsory measures of " ecclesiastical po- 
 lice " to " force" the wife in animatic unity to 
 
 any " performance of duty," nor to bind the hus- 
 band to his post. The term " love" dissolves 
 in itself the term " duty." The mother watches 
 her sick child, not from duty, but from love. 
 Moral freedom recognises no duty of slavery. 
 Slavish service and bond of love, are diflerent 
 things. 
 
 The term " love" presumes mutual conscious- 
 ness, the recognition of inward dignity, upon 
 which " respect"' is founded. Where there is no 
 respect there can be no love ; and where the first 
 is procured by deception, disappears at unde- 
 ception, and love, having no foundation, van- 
 ishes; the "duty" also ceases — to which the 
 " church of sensuality" made the woman the 
 man's " subject." 
 
 As man is distinguished from the animal by 
 the consciousness of the inward life, the anima- 
 tic unity is distinguished from the unity of the 
 flesh, of animal instinct. The ** love" of many 
 a mother to her children is often only atiimal 
 instinct, in which many animals are known 
 to excel even woman. But where spiritual love 
 tied the bond, and the inward life of the man 
 was developed in the child, the love of the 
 mother is elevated to a higher degree, to self- 
 consciousness, that is wanting in " instinct." 
 The mother, without the consciousness of the 
 sympathy to her husband, loves " herself" in 
 her child, and her love is egotism. The mother, 
 on the contrary, bound by the spiritual tie of 
 sympathy, loves in her child " her husband," 
 from whose embrace sprung the " pledge" of 
 love. The mother without sympathy will, in 
 decisive cases, sooner abandon her husband than 
 her children. A wife in the animatic bond 
 leaves her children to share the dangers or the 
 fate of her husband, when circumstances oblige 
 her to choose one or the other.* 
 
 Signora Serafini received this " strange girl, 
 who came on an errand from Miss Lucy." Sally 
 begged for a private audience, and after a brief 
 introduction, revealed the occasion of her com- 
 
 The wife of the state prisoner, whom Dr. Thor- 
 fin and Hinango occasionally visited, looked ear- 
 nestly at the *' strange girl," and first inquired 
 whether she knew Captain Hinango ? 
 
 " Only by name. I have never seen him." 
 " What moves you then to expose yourself to 
 such danger as evidently threatens you in case 
 it should be discovered that you have been with 
 me, and the object of your visit should be sus- 
 pected .'" 
 
 * The history of Russia afforda a remarkable con6r' 
 mation of this assertion. In consequence of the conspi- 
 racy at the death of Alexander, (in the year 18:2.5,) there 
 were, among others, about thirty confederates of Mora- 
 vielf, from the higher classes, condemned to hunt sables 
 and to work in the mines of Siberia. The most of tliese 
 young princes and counts were married. Many of their 
 ladies were unacquainted with the others, and several 
 were separated from each other many hundred miles. 
 Without any reciprocal understanding, each wife re- 
 solved to follow her husband in chains. 1 hey com- 
 mitted their children to the care of their relatives or 
 friends. But one of these high-hearted ladies did not ac- 
 company her husband ; she was the wife of a well known 
 prince, (Tr — k — y,) who had ofi'ered to betray the con- 
 spiracy to the Emperor Nicholas, to obiain favor and 
 pardon. He was, notwithstanding his olfer, sentenced 
 to Siberia. He bore the chains of his companions, but 
 instead of the company of true love, he bad carried with 
 him the contempt of a woman of whose love be bad Qever 
 been worthy.
 
 S18 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " I know that Captain Hinango's life is worth 
 more than mine ; and if I lose mine, and save 
 him thereby, perhaps Eternal Justice will weigh 
 my pure intentions — against many errors into 
 which my lot has drawn me." 
 
 The lady appeared surprised, and contempla- 
 ting the unhappy girl with sadness, she said: 
 " Dr. Thorfin told me of a warning for the res- 
 cue of our female friend — whose name perhaps 
 you know. Did this warning come also from 
 you .'" 
 
 " You mean the poetess, Dolores .' I have 
 also endeavored to do for her what I held to be 
 my duty." 
 
 Angelica %vas silent, and again sank into re- 
 flection ; her eyes became moist — her lips quiv- 
 ered. 
 
 " Poor unfortunate — noble gi^l," said she at 
 length, it is you also then of whom Dr. Thorfin 
 has spoken to me, who wished to return to Eng- 
 land m company with a family." 
 
 " I have expressed my wish to Dr. Thorfin 
 and Hinango, through an Irish sailor, who is 
 respected by those gentlemen." 
 
 " Will you not go to my fazenda in the moun- 
 tains, on the borders of Goyaz ? I have left my 
 children behind there, under safe care, to be sure, 
 but perhaps it would be of service to you to for- 
 get, somewhere withdrawn from the world, that 
 yon have been betrayed and injured as a woman. 
 
 " I have come here, Senhora to beg you, to 
 
 implore you, if possible, to send the warning to 
 your friend. Captain Hinango, not to go alona 
 and unarmed tonight or to-morrow evening, and 
 in general, so long as he may he here, to tha 
 stairs Dos Pescadores. 
 
 " His murder is determined upon ; the negro 
 is engaged who is to stab him. As regards my 
 future, I thank you for your sympathy, and may 
 speak to you about it hereafter. A man in whose 
 hand my life also fluctuates, will go away in the 
 middle of March — perhaps you will permit me 
 then — when I am free — to trouble you again 
 with my visits." 
 
 The wife of the prisoner found few words to 
 reply, excepting the sacred assurance that she 
 would immediately do her utmost with respect 
 to Hinango; she then pressed the hand of the 
 poor girl, and accompanied her through her gar- 
 den to a gate, to draw off, as much as possible 
 from her the eyes of observers. 
 
 Sally betook herself to the Cirque Gymnastique 
 of Signore Chiarini, whose tumultuous music was 
 just then drumming into the air the stormy over- 
 ture of the " Escape from the Seraglio." 
 
 No one appeared to have remarked what she 
 had particularly wanted in Praya Grande, and 
 even the baron was very well satisfied with tha 
 pretext — that she had visited the circus of the 
 celebrated Signore Chiarini — when he found tier 
 at the right time of the evening, in a n^gligl, 
 OQ her sofa. 
 
 *^*^^^®'»» # *»# rt «w.* 
 
 
 I
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The force of the nerve fluid in the glance 
 of man, (as the organ of the soul,) manifests it- 
 self in animatic magnetism, insomuch as its 
 operation is capable of producing magnetic sleep. 
 The communion of kindred souls between them- 
 Belves by means of this organ is a mutual receiv- 
 ing and giving, a transfer of interior being, whose 
 alternate operation, as it were, increases the sub- 
 stance of the nerve fluid of two persons with 
 each other, forming an animatic unjty, in which 
 (so to say) one soul, attracted into the other, 
 lives in that other. 
 
 A single glance may give us information of 
 the most secret emotion in the sanctuary of the 
 soul, and the impression of such a glance, which 
 (in a manner) infuses soul into soul, is able to ac- 
 company us indissolubly throughout our whole 
 lives — inwoven with our being, as part of our 
 
 BOUls. 
 
 Spirit and spirit can unite without the encoun- 
 ter of the glance, as, for example, we feel our- 
 selves akin to the spirit of an author, or enter into 
 relationship with him, by reading his works. 
 The medium of connexion for the union of souls 
 is the organ of the soul : the magnetic fluid of the 
 glance. 
 
 The youth Robert, whose individuality would 
 belong in that category which we have designa- 
 ted as fire or air magnetic, had lived until this 
 time (so to say) in Gracia's soul, from which he, 
 as it were, had received a portion into himself, 
 in exchange for a like portion of his animatic 
 existence. 
 
 A similar exchange of the inward life can of 
 course only take place between animatic (fire 
 and air magnetic) beings, and is, on the contra- 
 ry, impossible between animal (earth and water 
 magnetic) natures, or on the part of one such in 
 intercourse with a being of the first category ; for 
 no glance fluid can operate where the animatic 
 force is not developed. The glance of an animal 
 nature is certainly capable of the expression of 
 the element in which it moves, whether this 
 element be sensuality, instinct, frivolity, etc. ; 
 but the animal nature, like its operations, is 
 rigidly opposed to the element of the inward 
 life, in which it is deficient. 
 
 It follows from the above, that an animatic 
 being of either sex experiences no mutual ope- 
 ration of animatic fluid in connexion or inter- 
 course with animal nature, to whom this element 
 is foreign, since it cannot operate where it does 
 not exist. 
 
 On the other hand, many phenomena of the 
 social world around us are explained through 
 the above principle, in which beings united in 
 the most intimate manner with each other 
 through this mysterious bond of animatic life — ■ 
 exist spiritually in each other, and, so to say, 
 " fast bound, are fettered to each other." — Simi- 
 lar phenomena, which in the middle ages were 
 counted in the category of Witchcraft, according 
 to the above, have their foundation in natural 
 causes. 
 
 The countless number of suicides, (which 
 heartless materialism ascribes to everyday Love 
 stories, and scoffs at as laughable occurrences 
 in the ridiculous province of sentimentality,) in a 
 thousand cases find their explanation in a dis- 
 eased state of the nerves of those unfortunate 
 beings, who, in the manner above designated, 
 feel their animatic existence injured, suddenly 
 disturbed and interrupted, or relaxed, through 
 the opposing hostile principle of the animatic 
 element. 
 
 The reality of the " distant effect" in the ani- 
 matic sphere is a matter of experience, which 
 belongs neither to the province of witchcraft nor 
 to that of " ridiculous sentimentality or foolish 
 love stories." 
 
 The Distant Effect in magnetic rapport is sim- 
 ilar to the timeless movements of an electi'o- 
 magnetic telegraph ! thought and sentiment 
 operate timeless in far distance. 
 
 Robert endured (in his physical existence) 
 the operation of a similar animatic rapport 
 through the month-long exchange of the ghince 
 fluid, in so much as the animatic life prevailed 
 in him, and had, as it were, overpo\vered his 
 entire being. 
 
 The neighborhood of Gracia had in a manner 
 become a necessity of his existence. He felt 
 himself fettered by that mysterious bond, (foun- 
 ded upon the higher entity in man,) in so far as 
 we (according to the system of Garringos) re- 
 cognise the soul's life as primitive existence, 
 whose form or instrument is the subordinate 
 shell of the body.
 
 820 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Robert became physically ill by the distur- 
 bance of his nerves, through the distant opera- 
 tion of the voluntary or intentional injury of his 
 nature, by the woman in whose existence he 
 lived animatically. 
 
 Similar to the above mentioned effect of the 
 electro-magnetic telegraph, the unfortunate felt 
 every contact of the inimical animal principle 
 with th(; separated part of his being, which 
 systemHfically ruined and disturbed it. The 
 destruction of his mind became reciprocally a 
 destruction of his nerves ; and his existence upon 
 earth, undermined by such sufferings, was nearly 
 a physical impossibility. 
 
 Every |)sychologist, in traversing the province 
 of ani malic magnetism, would have found his 
 illness as natural as the wound fever after an 
 amputation, without being able, as a physician, 
 to prescribe a recipe for replacing the separated 
 portion of his being. The misfortune vt' such 
 sutierings lie specially in the mystery which 
 they occasion, and many a suflerer would be res- 
 cued in such cases, if the cause in itself did not 
 require at the same time, also, the stipulation of 
 endurance without soothing participation. 
 
 Robert passed some days in self-abstraction, 
 in the mechanical performance of his daily 
 business, which did not make very serious 
 claims upon his intellect. He endeavored to 
 conceal his illness from himself. He passed 
 through the garden which surrounded the t,vo 
 pavilions at his departure and return, and occa- 
 eionally met his friend, in company with her hus- 
 band or the little one, and instead of the former 
 greetings, encountered a contemptuous glance, 
 with which she turned her back upon him. 
 
 The youth observed the tone of social civility 
 towards the lady, as towards her family, now as 
 before. He considered his friend as an invalid, 
 a suflerer who was overtaken by a fever which 
 had robbed her of her interior self-conscious- 
 ness, as a high fever deprives a person of exte- 
 rior consciousness. He had become acquainted 
 with her being as a soul, and was so much the 
 more convinced of her noble nature, since he 
 felt the operation of her spiritual life in him- 
 self, which, according to logical consistency, 
 could not have taken place if it had not existed 
 in her 
 
 By what means, and with what powerful dis- 
 turbance the woman endeavored to tear herself 
 asunder from the " monster," who had not 
 dared originally even to allow his sentiments of 
 sympatliy towards her to be perceived, may be 
 conjectured. 
 
 Perhaps, however, the unfortunate being ex- 
 perienced a not less violent reaction of the 
 sulierings of her friend, notwithstanding she, 
 seized by a delirium, endeavored suddenly to 
 break a bond which might certainly be violated 
 by female caprices, to an agitating degree, but 
 could not be rent in her. 
 
 The intentional dissolution l'. tl.e in-tuatic 
 unity of the two beings, through the deadening 
 and destruction of the inward life in the woman, 
 by the subjection and solution of her nobler 
 nature in the element of animal vegetation, was 
 murder, undeniable murder, of the kindred 
 spiritual life of the youth. Only such an ani- 
 matic suicide of the woman, (more horrible than 
 any physical one,) was able to dissolve the rap- 
 port in the kindred being, as occurs in hundreds 
 
 of cases, and at the same time, also, Causes phy» 
 sicai suicide at a more remote period. 
 
 Eight days had passed since their separation, 
 when Gracia entered Robert's apartment one 
 evening, under the pretext of asking fur some 
 pieces of music which she had forgotten there. 
 Her quivering lips were hardly able to utter the 
 request. 
 
 She remained standing in the middle of the 
 room, gazing before her with a convulsively 
 disturbed countenance, and appeared then to 
 perceive that Robert approached her to hand 
 her the leaves of music. She seized them, and 
 allowed them to drop on the floor beside her. 
 
 Her glance raised itself to the glance of her 
 friend, and a second of such communion em* 
 braced what an hour of similar elfusion in words 
 would have been incapable of expressing. 
 
 " Robert !" was at length the single sound 
 
 which the unhappy woman exhaled from her 
 oppressed heart, as she sank on the breast of 
 her friend in a similar swoon as in that hour 
 when the acknowledgement of her sentime."its 
 forced itself from her. 
 
 It was a state of inward convulsion, which 
 extended itself to all the physical organs, and 
 of course dried the tears and suppressed the 
 words within her. 
 
 It was the unfortunate woman, impressed 
 with the guilt of an unheard of wounding of 
 the friend on whom she had once bestowed her 
 most sacred confidence, and who had always 
 shov/n himself worthy of it. It was the word- 
 less petition for forgiveness, in the singular con- 
 sciousness that the petition was already lullilled. 
 It was the swoon of shame in retrospect upon 
 herself. 
 
 " You have not wounded me — you have not 
 injured me," began Robert, as the unhappy one 
 regained her physical censciousness. " 1 have 
 once known you, and have never deceived my- 
 self. I feel that, in the operation of your nature 
 upon me. 1 separate character from tempera- 
 ment — nature from a state of sulTering. I love 
 you, and in this word lies all — all that I can s.ay 
 at this moment for your consolation. I live m 
 you, and your suil'erings are mine. Vour b'lund- 
 
 less misfortune is my ■." He witheld the 
 
 gloomy word, and gazed in the eyes of his 
 friend, who, still absorbed, heard his words, 
 and hardly dared encounter his glance. 
 
 Mr. Closting had returned to Rio at the inti- 
 mation of his partner that his presence was 
 necessary for the business in Santa Catharina. 
 
 V/ithout wandering into the prosaic province 
 of the money business of a man who began in 
 Brazil with nothing, and had got so far through 
 his " praiseworthy industy," that his "worth" 
 amounted to a considerable sum, (as he at least 
 himself intircated, that he might sustain his 
 credit,) we merely remark that some indiscreet 
 people, as, for example, Mr. Francis Rossbriick 
 and others, announced themselves to him so 
 soon as his return became known. 
 
 The indiscretion of certain people proceeded 
 so far, as to consider him their debtor for tole- 
 rably large sums, which he had received hero 
 and there for one undertaking or another, partly 
 as an advance, and partly as exchange which 
 people had confided to his credit, and Ilia
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 321 
 
 panctual payment of which, upon reception, or 
 at the appointed time, he had " forgotten from 
 sheer business perplexity." 
 
 A clerk of the triple headed business house of 
 " Cerberus & Co.," in the " lower world," might 
 commit to paper the scenes which occurred in 
 the private office of Mr. Clnsting in those days 
 immediately after his arrival, but we gladly 
 omit them here, since they would bring with 
 them a nomenclature and registry of manifold 
 coarseness and brutal dismissals, for which the 
 poorest paper under our pen would always be 
 too good. 
 
 One day Mr. Closting sat in his natural his- 
 tory business ofhcc, absorbed in correspondence 
 with various imperial and royal academies and 
 institutes, whose correspondent and honorary 
 member he was, (or at least called himself,) 
 when a man entered whom we have already 
 seen before — Mr. Nols, his travelling factotum. 
 After he had satisfied' himself that his former 
 master was alone, (tor he had peaceably left his 
 employ,) he beckoned through the open door 
 into the front room, and two more persons en- 
 tered — Mr. Banko, and Mr. Habakkuk Daily. 
 When both had crossed the threshold, Mr. Nols 
 closed the door, and placed himself before it. 
 
 Mr. Closting observed this manoeuvre of en- 
 trance with a sort of surprise, through which 
 an internal feeling of uneasiness was percepti- 
 ble, and looked with an inquiring glance, first 
 at one, and then at another of them. 
 
 Banko took up the word, and said, in a quiet 
 tone : " I take the liberty of introduding to you 
 Mr. Habakkuk Daily, son of the buried Mr. 
 Xavier Dujour-Daily, employed in the busi- 
 ness of the house of Walker and Co., who has 
 a demand upon you, Mr. Closting." 
 
 " A demand upon me .'" inquired the other, 
 with unfeigned amazement. 
 
 " A demand on you, Mr. Closting, to the 
 amount of two-and-twenty conto di reis !" 
 
 Mr. Closting's countenance lost color. ** A 
 demand for exchange, then ; perhaps from Eu- 
 rope >" inquired he with hesitation ; " will you 
 show me the document .'" 
 
 " Primo and sccundo bill of exchange, in due 
 order," replied the young German, laying the 
 two sympathy birds U|)on the writing table, 
 before Mr. Closting, while all three gazed at 
 the murderer with an unaverted glance, and ob- 
 obscrved every shade of his expression. 
 
 There is a "tactic of surprise," which in the art 
 cf war is considered to be the best and safest; 
 and by which many generals, with contracted 
 forces, have beaten an enemy who exceeded 
 them tenfold in military strength. 
 
 Hardly had the naturalist perceived this du 
 plicate specimen of sympathy birds, prepared 
 with unusual care, and well preserved, than the 
 whole garrison of the intrenched leaguer oi 
 his evil conscience (as if siezed with an apo- 
 plexy,) grounded arms, and no brutal command 
 of defiance was able to bring the array of impu- 
 dence again " a la bayonette." 
 
 Tile murderer, as if paralyzed by a stroke of 
 electricity, becanie still more pale, and instantly 
 sank back into his armchair — and the attacking 
 hostile party had conquered. 
 
 " Vou will be so good, Mr. Closting," contin- 
 ued Mr. Banko, when he had for a sufficient 
 time contemplated the surrender of the enemy, 
 41 
 
 " you will be so good as to pay the before named 
 sum to-morrow morning before ten o'clock, in 
 the cabinet of Mr. Thomson, to Mr. Daily, on the 
 receipt of his aquittance. Until then we take 
 our leave, farewell." 
 
 He then replaced the two birds in his hat, and 
 all three left the cabinet as speedily as they 
 had come. 
 
 The naturalist had discovered a province in 
 nature into which his investigations had not 
 until this time extended; the province ovei 
 which dominates the revengeful Nemesis, who, 
 enveloped in the gloomy veil of night, comea 
 forth here and there as a fearfully terrible sove- 
 reign, and occasionally avails herself of the most 
 insignificant circumstances to assist her power. 
 
 Mr. Forro came into the cabinet of his part- 
 ner, to consult him upon some matter of busi- 
 ness, without noticing the visit which had just 
 taken place, since so many persons passed in 
 and out who " had business with Mr. Closting 
 alone." 
 
 " My God ! are you not well .'" exclaimed he, 
 when he saw his partner in his armchair, still 
 pale — pale as death, and half unconscious, gazing 
 on vacancy. 
 
 " I must have taken something poisonous," 
 replied the naturalist, "perhaps last evening at 
 supper — some damn'd leaf or herb, or something 
 of the sort, that got among the vegetables, and 
 happened to come upon my fork." 
 
 " Shall I send to Dr. Thorfin .'" inquired Sen- 
 hor Forro, with friendly sympathy, " or will you 
 prescribe something yourself? You look very 
 suspicious." 
 
 " I will go over to the apothecary," observed 
 the other, " and take an antidote, or something, 
 and move about a little in the fresh air. 1 hope 
 it is nothing to speak of — that it will be nothing 
 of consequence." 
 
 At these words he seized his hat, drew it low 
 over his eyes, and left the office and the house. 
 
 The first requisite for the moment was to gain 
 composure, to smother, if possible, the disturb- 
 ance of the physical organism, and calmly to de- 
 liberate upon what was to be done. It w'as neces- 
 sary in this case to rescue his honor as a citizen, 
 which unha])pily was at hazard, abstractly from 
 the fatal consequences of this visit, which might 
 draw after it an accusation of murder, in case he 
 did not take speedy measures against it. 
 
 The miserable damned little sympathy birds — 
 the sight of which had suddenly replaced him 
 in the scene where he had expressed to Mr. Du- 
 jour Daily his views concerning the sympathy 
 of Signora Serafini for her husband — these 
 wretched preparations were now also a testimo- 
 ny to him that somebody had observed him in 
 that moment when he made the shot that legiti- 
 mated him as the inheritor of the diamond. 
 
 Who ofthosc three travelling companions had 
 followed him there? whether the " impertinent 
 fellow" Banko? or the laconic Nols? or the 
 miserable negro Francisco ? it was in fact all 
 the same — the infamous bill of exchange upon 
 the twenty-two cento's had been laid before him ; 
 and unhappily he could not " protest it," high 
 as he stood in credit with the authorities from 
 one cause and another. 
 
 Mr. Closting hurried through streets and 
 lanes, to the livery stable where his horses stood, 
 saddled his Minas galloway with his own nand,
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 and took a ride, out towards Bota Fogo, to get 
 some fresh air. ., , , ■ ,r 
 
 We will allow him to ride until he himsell 
 finds it convenient to turn back, and betake our- 
 selves, in the meanwhile, to Dr. Thnriin, who 
 had just then received by a negi-o the invitation 
 from Signora Sevafini, to favor her with a visit as 
 soon as possible. 
 
 The doctor hastened to Praya Grande, and 
 now learnt the object which caused Sally's ap- 
 pearance there. The intelligence was not in 
 Itself surprising to the friend of Hinango, since 
 tJie latter, under existing circumstances, had 
 nothing else to expect. 
 
 It was already two o'clock in the afternoon 
 when Thorfin returned to the city. In the 
 neighborhood of his abode, on the Gloria, he 
 met the naturalist, who begged him in all haste 
 to inform his wife that he should probably come 
 very late to the chacara in the evening, as he 
 was overpowered with urgent business, but was 
 otherwise very well. 
 
 The doctor promised, with peculiar readiness, 
 to make the visit to his neighbor ; and the natu- 
 ralist gave his Minas galloway the spur, and gal- 
 loped back to town. 
 
 Within two hours after the visit he had ' 
 
 Dr. Thorfin made a hasty visit to Madame 
 Closting, and found her relapsed intc her ill- 
 ness, more suffering than she had been for some 
 months. He inquired after the health of their 
 mutual friend, Senhor Roberto, and learned that 
 he was in the city, and, alas ! not very well 
 The doctor then returned home, provided him- 
 self with two double pistols and a dagger, hur- 
 ried down to town, entered a boat at the landing 
 place Dos Pescadores, and went out on the bay 
 on board the Astrala. , . . 
 
 Captain Hinango was occupied at his vvntrng 
 table, composing a farewell letter to Dolores, 
 whose neighborhood he was now about to 
 leave, and which was to be their only leave- 
 taking, as customs and conventionalism denied 
 them'intercourse. Thorfin appeared. Tlie priva- 
 teer learned from his friend what had brou^'hl 
 him there, and again sank into conteniplalioa 
 upon the disinterested devotedness of this des- 
 pised female, who had hitherto decidedly re- 
 jected every approach on his part to a personal 
 assurance of his gratitude. 
 
 " I must go on shore, however," remarked ne, 
 in pursuance of the conversation which had 
 ensued. " I have still urgent business to tran- 
 sect, and must by all means go to sea to-mor- 
 
 posed his mind," as the English say, (which had row—to-morrow noon. 
 
 evidentlv been discomposed.) if we can call that | " Well," replied his friend, then arm^youi 
 
 a mind which vegetated within him. After ripe ; self well— thoroughly, and ne 
 
 deliberation, he seemed less to have lost his pres 
 ence of mind than the hope of coming to terms 
 ■with this indiscreet and bold creditor, who had 
 come under his eye in the square person of Mr. 
 
 Daily. . , J 
 
 Mr. Closting had considered and weighed 
 what was to be done, and had now resolved to do 
 what he had considered upon and weighed. The 
 whole affair hung upon the avoidance of the or- 
 dered encounter in the cabinet of Mr. Thomson, 
 
 will endeavor 
 to seize the negro who is to despatch you ; if 
 possible, to bring him to confession, and unmask 
 the baron in the' background." • 
 
 " That will hardlv take place," observed Hi- 
 nango ; " it depends" upon circumstances ; if we 
 succeed in catching the negro when he throws 
 himself upon me, then, to bo sure— then we 
 should have grounds to take a decided stand. 
 But remember, besides, that the police, ine 
 courts, the government, would take the attempt 
 at murder under their protection, because it 
 
 as partner of the house of Walker & Co. ; a ren- — ...-.-- , .u.. ,„ ,„,r 
 
 dezvous wliereby Mr. Banko gave him to under- took place tow'ards an exile whom 'he ■"'""- 
 stand, plainly enough, that the affair would be [ chical ^principle has honored with a sentence of 
 made public in case he did not comply with the death." 
 demands of the heir. 
 
 Mr. Closting would certainly have found the 
 pretext of requiring first the proof that the dia- 
 mond was the same which had belonged to the 
 
 The cabin boy of the Astrala announced 
 Mr. Banko's arrival. Hinango desired him to 
 
 come in. 
 
 " I have come with my effects, captain, be- 
 gan the young German," and have here with 
 
 Erimpeiro,Mr.XavierDujour,butthetwo cursed, 5>... ^"- J— ;„ . i, ,i. ,»-.„i,i 
 
 sympathy birds were in the way, which had been mean acquaintance, and a negro, both would 
 used as proofagainst him in quite another respect, gladly remain on board to-mght it you wi'l per- 
 ' . ,° J i_:_ :r. :ui„ („„„„ ^r,^ I mit T iprp are npwiliar circumstanees, wlucft 
 
 It now behoved him, if possible, to see and 
 speak this very day with the impertinent credi- 
 tor and his counsellor Banko — to enter into treaty 
 with them to give up the rendezvous at Mr. 
 Tompson's. 
 
 Mr. Closting betook himself to his cabinet, 
 and wrote two cordial notes to the two amiable 
 young people, wherein he invited them at any 
 rate to speak to him that evening in his office, 
 as he was ready to bring the exchange business 
 with Mr. Habakkuk Daily to an immediate con- 
 clusion. He added, that he would remain at 
 home, and not leave his office before ten o'clock. 
 
 A negro was sent to leave the notes to their 
 address in the German tavern in the Rua do 
 Cano, and if possible to deliver them personally 
 to the young gentleman. The negro brought the 
 information that he found neither of the two sen- 
 horites at home, but the landlord " expected 
 them every moment to dinner, and would then 
 j«Uver the notes." 
 
 mit. There are peculiar circumstances, 
 I can only relate to you when we shall be safely 
 at sea. I beg pardon for troubling you with 
 this request." 
 
 Dr. Thorfin accompanied the two on deck, 
 and saw the same stranger and the same negro 
 in a boat, whom he had remarked the d.iy before 
 in Mr. Thomson's cabinet. Without hinting by 
 a syllable at certain relations, he thought his 
 part, nevertheless, and found much material for 
 singular suspicions. 
 
 The captain of the Astrala consented to the 
 presence of the two attendants of his future 
 clerk or midshipman on board, so long as they 
 wished, and then went on shore well armed. 
 
 The overseer of the alfandega, who generally 
 examined every one that came on shore, in order 
 to confiscate concealed weapons or contraband 
 goods, knew the captain in his position as cap- 
 tain, and spared himself the trouble of incom- 
 moding him and his friend.
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 333 
 
 \ 
 
 Mr. Clostin» remained as if upon coals in his 
 office, and neglected his dinner, as he, very 
 strangely, had no appetite at all, but occasionally 
 a burning thirst. 
 
 It was about three o'clock when he betook 
 himself to this post. Four o'clock came, and 
 six o'clock, and still no Mr. Daily. He looked 
 o\it of the window upon the opposite sidewalk, 
 right and ietl, up and down, but no one stepped 
 obligcly across the street, who resemblctl either 
 of these two. The house in which he was, 
 cast a broad shadow upon the opposite wrdls of 
 the tiresome old hou.ses ; the shadow rose even 
 higher and higher. The old gray walls of the 
 buildings opposite to liim became even grayer 
 and gloomier, and suddenly entirely dark, as the 
 
 gun had disappeared and still no one came. 
 
 He again sent one of his negroes to the little 
 lavern in the Rua do Cano, to in(]uire whether 
 Mr. Banko and the stranger had not returned. 
 
 The negro came again, and announced that 
 both had been there to dinner at three o'clock. 
 Mr. Banko had taken his baggage on board the 
 vessel ; he had said, moreover, that he would 
 soon be on shore again. 
 
 Strange ! then the notes had been received, 
 snd no notice taken of them ; the cursed clown 
 seemed determined not to arrange the affair 
 elsewhere than in Mr. Thomson's presence — an 
 impertinence without equal. 
 
 Mr. Closting had once for all declared that he 
 would not leave his office before ten o'clock. 
 He must, of course, wait — wait quietly, until 
 ten o'clock, and then — well, then he would 
 have had time enough to consider what was to 
 be done. 
 
 Nothing else remained to him, nothing at all, 
 but to go on board the Astrala, where Mr. Banko 
 was then tn he tbund. That he was there to be 
 found, Mr. Closting concluded from some words 
 of Mr. Prole, and from the obstinate delay. The 
 thoroughgoing lubber had looked out for his 
 personal safety. Mr. Closting comprehended 
 such measures. 
 
 It struck eight, and nine, and at length ten 
 o'clock and no one appeared. 
 
 The naturalist then locked his desk, and 
 drank another glass of water — and remained 
 thirsty, notwithstanding. He locked his door, 
 and ordering the .negro to wait for him, hastily 
 left the house. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 . THE MISTAKE, 
 
 Miss StrsAN Thomson lived after the happy 
 betrothal dinner in a never-ending tumult of 
 maidenly expectation of the things or the hours 
 " that should come," when at last the middle ot 
 the month of March drew nigh. Although she, 
 like a good Christian, had until now, concerned 
 herself very little with heathen mythology, the 
 god Hymen had, nevertheless, not remained un- 
 known to her. She even looked in the fishing 
 library of her brother for some old book of my- 
 thological contents, to obtain, if possible, still 
 jTiore information about the signification of this 
 
 or the other heathen divinity. At length she 
 found an old French book, " Legons de iVIitholo- 
 gie," etc., and learnt that Amor was a son of 
 Venus and Mars, without conceiving in her nar- 
 rowmindedness the ingenious symbol of this de- 
 rivation ; still less did she comprehend the mys- 
 terious marriage of Amor witli Psyche, nor tlie 
 significantly difficult prediction of the oracle, 
 that the tender, ardent Psyche should be mar- 
 ried upon earth to a monster whom she sought 
 to elude by her flight to the island of Cyprus, 
 where the loving Amor visited her incognito 
 every night. 
 
 Miss .Susan understood all this as little as the 
 Apocalypse, which she had, nevertheless, fre- 
 quently read. She learnt, however, that Hymen 
 was a brother of Amor, who was represented 
 with a torch, with wliich he kindled (he fire 
 upon the altar of matrimony — in case it would 
 not immediately burn of itself, which may oc- 
 casionally be the case. 
 
 Her days passed away admirably, and in joy, 
 since she could now receive the visits of her 
 baron without restraint, and make her appear- 
 ance publicly on his arm, which was an un- 
 ceasing "satisfaction" to her, as she could 
 thereby evince to the world that she was a be- 
 trothed bride, and future Baroness de Spandau 1 
 
 This allegory of mythology, in relation to the 
 poor Psyche, would rather have found its e.v- 
 emplification in the Gloria than in herself. 
 
 In accordance with this ingenious myth of 
 antiquity, may Psyches, (or souls,) with and 
 without" the oracle, appear to be cast upon a 
 monster in marriage, and it is not every Psyche 
 who rescues herself at the right time, upon an 
 island of Cyprus, or Santa Cuthariua, but is 
 subdued by the monster upon a peninsula, like 
 the Gloria. 
 
 Far from us be the design of instituting a 
 parallel between the excellent and generous 
 old Mr. Thomson, and a monster of the Greek 
 mythology ! Why should not Mr. Thomson be 
 able to lay as good a claim to the tenderest 
 Psyche of reality, enveloped in a beautiful form, 
 resembling her mother Venus, (as we are told 
 in the myth,) especially when the mortal shell, 
 in correspondence with his taste, is endowed 
 with a tendency to corpulency .' On the con- 
 trary, we leave it to the decision of all young 
 ladies, from fifteen to full forty years, who are 
 desirous of matrimony, whether Mr. Thomson, 
 in such a respectable standing, with a large 
 property, w ith real estate and houses, and car- 
 riages, and livery servants, and apes, was not 
 capable of satisfying all the demands and re- 
 quisitions which any maiden or young lady 
 whatever could reasonably institute? 
 
 This question, long since decided by antici- 
 pation by the sound reason of the female sex, 
 tranquillized Mr. Thomson in the joyful prospect 
 of his voyage to Santa Catharina. 
 
 The baron rode and walked, and ran and went 
 in and out at Mr. Thomson's, in Bota Fogo, and 
 regularly informed himself, though incidentally, 
 of the health of Miss Fanny, and heard, from 
 time to time, that she " thanked him for his 
 kind inquiries, and found herself tolerably 
 well." 
 
 The Baron was at Mr. Thomson's when Mr. 
 Closting rode past the villa upon his excursion. 
 He inquired, more earnestly than ever, after the
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 334 
 
 health of" hb friend," Miss Fanny, and seemed 
 to Bhow a singular, almost urgent mchnation to 
 nresenT his compliments to her in person. M.ss 
 Susan t|,en seized her bridegroom s arm m a 
 very bdelike manner, and ran beside him up 
 The broad stairs, to Miss Fanny'9 door, on the 
 
 '^'Co'rrnna appeared at the knock, and the bride- 
 groorn vvas announced. The baron convinced 
 himself that Miss Fanny was still alive, and 
 srtfd at her writing-table at Beta Fogo-^nd 
 further he did not wish %o know. 
 '"The Astrala was to go to sea the next da^. 
 It was still possible that Dr. Thorfin and Hi- 
 nango i%ht!notwithstandins all the vigilance 
 
 Tthe par^t of the spy, have -»«">Pf«Vth'e As 
 Sroke of carrying off Dolores on bi«rd the As- 
 trala in which she might even then escape alone, 
 if H mango should personally remam on shore. 
 The Astrala was already manned ; first and sec- 
 ond mate were on board, as Mr. Clostmg had 
 ?epor?ed to the baron ; the elopement would not 
 have been so impossible; but he had likewise 
 taken hTs measures for such a case, that the As- 
 trala sbo«rd not pa.s the fortress of Santa Cruz 
 without a visitation from topmast *« keel.— - 
 
 The baron had made his visit, and found him- 
 self again in the park with Miss Susan. _ 
 
 "Do not go out anywhere this evening," 
 whispered he in the ear of hi. young br.de 
 (Ivho, as a bride, was certainly not three weeks 
 old ) " and keep Miss Fanny at home ! I enjom 
 it upon you; fori have prepared a surprise for 
 her We will have a concert in the garden this 
 
 "^enin„ ." whispered he, still lower, playing 
 
 ?n theTnost intimately afiectionate manner with 
 a riband paraded in a bow o« the ftat chemisette 
 f'l love such surprises, and have a lore at 
 making them. Stay at home both of you 1 you 
 are accountable to me lor the pleasure. 
 
 Miss Susan more than willingly assumed such 
 responsibility, and was also able to carry it out, 
 inasmuch as' only one gate led into the garden, 
 and the surrounding wall was very high-a ci - 
 cmnstance which certainly did not come into 
 consideration with relation to Miss Fannv , as she 
 feared no abduction on the part ot Robert Walker 
 Tu the measures for securing the person ot 
 oJloes were of course taken ; her possible 
 &iXl on board the Astrala was hindered; and 
 belides, the baron had the necessary connexion 
 wTth the officers of the port, which placed the 
 Teans in his hands of directing the visitation 
 
 "^'Hlna?^'had"given his friend Thort^n a ven- 
 dezvou.°at the Hotel du Nord lor a tnendly 
 farewell snppe^ "> ^^.ch Mr. Fitz also invited 
 himself when he heard ot it. 
 
 All three sat according to appearance comfort- 
 ably to-'ether, talking about one thing and ano- 
 ther The cinversation fell upon Mr. Closting s 
 return and his great success in business, and Mr. 
 Fit" observed "tliat he would succeed yet lur- 
 thlr in Brazil, as he was an uncommonly clever 
 felTovV, and had great protection, and was well 
 kid to have be'en long in the secret service 
 of one functi onary or another.' 
 
 oura'';«swo'?J.hViic;iv« some .hut.lTou. Ihel.rt.e... 
 
 We leave the three Northmen in the Hotel 
 du Nord! and betake ourselves to the street 
 where Mr. Closting left his house. 
 
 A thunder storm was pouring dovvn in s ream,^ 
 The whole Rua da AUandega. and all *!'« Ru^ 
 Direita, " swam with water." Here and there 
 vet stood a group of negroes at a street corner to 
 carry the passers-by upon their backs across the 
 Sn ' n'vulets which separated one pavement 
 rom another, and much discordant laughter 
 ;;rund"ed, and many Senhor Bra^cos s^^.pped 
 .jirtewavs down from the backs of the two leg 
 Kd beasts of burden," with one foot in the rivu- 
 kts, or with both, according to the greatness of 
 
 'Tc^wdTcaptains- boats, with dripping sail- 
 or TwLit^d at the broad stairs Doa Pescadores for 
 Z\7old «>an, amongst the negro canoes and 
 elouquH-s, whose conductors, ready or s.vi.e, 
 beset the stairs and sprang to ""''^.t^' ",?""«, 
 who approached somewhat near, with ofter* of 
 
 '"patH^k! wUhouthaving beeninforr^e.d through 
 the invalid I.ucy of the design ot murder against 
 ran ain Hinango, had instinctively mingled 
 among thf^grU and sailors, who notwith- 
 stTndL the pouring rain, eschanged their wit 
 amo* each o^her-?be negroes laughing loudly 
 
 aUhe^European sailors for '--'"S ^'/'IJ^to,- ! 
 which could certainly not occur to the Ethio i- 
 Ts^^aa the girdle around the hips was hardlj a 
 
 ''mr"ck availed himself of the pretext of ob- 
 serving the captain of the Astra a in case the 
 b"on'shouu/learn that .ho had been there-- 
 since he had hitherto apprized him with the ui 
 most esact'iess what hid been taken on board 
 
 ""Mr. Closting had some days before made a 
 visit on board the Astrala, in company vv th Mr^ - 
 Fitz, and had met some sailors among the crew 
 whom he liad formerly recognised as hiscountij- 
 r,ple on board of other Scandinavian vessels. 
 
 At len-th he reached the place ot the Ruados 
 Pescadores, and liurned to the stairs 
 
 " The boat of the Astrala 1 is it here .' criea 
 be. in a Scandinavian language. . .^^■,,- 
 
 The two sailors in the Astrala's boat, heartily 
 
 .lad to get on board at length, out ot the rain 
 
 reolied to him, " Here captain 1 here! since 
 
 hey believed that Hinango had appeared at 
 
 en^th Mr Closting sprang down the slippery 
 
 w t^-tairs into the boat, and cned to the sailors: 
 
 " Will you row me quickly on board .' 1 Have 
 .something to say to your mate !" .<• .o„„e 
 
 The tvvo sailors were Scandinavians, ot course 
 countrymen of the naturalist, and patriotically 
 rejoiced to hear their own J^npage 
 
 " Right willingly !" replied one ol them. 
 
 " Is it you, Mr.' Closting V returned the othe , 
 as the lonner seated himself in the .tern, to 
 
 ^"''u ra'iilll^t this evening," remarked one of 
 
 "'?. Ve;r,^,t." assented Mr. Closting., 
 
 Molocli, who had already from a distance ta- 
 ken notice of the man with --f;X7^,^°^: 
 Quickly Hew upon the stairs, and called lor me 
 boit ot the A.strala-now stood upon his post 
 'ptnck, without remarking Moloeh,whoc,ok^ 
 
 black like any other negro, and especially M 
 Shtsoou dJcovei-ed that this voice was BOt
 
 DOLORES 
 
 325 
 
 \ 
 
 the org;an of his captain, and allowed the natu- 
 ralist to step into the boat. Moloch, without 
 exciting observation, stepped hastily down tile 
 stairs, sprang across boat after boat, into Ills 
 canoe which lie had long had in readiness, and 
 sculled himself, with Ethiopian dexterity, to the 
 boat of the Astrala, just as it pushed of!*, and the 
 sailors had raised tlie oars for the first stroke. 
 
 In a second the negro's dajigei* was planted 
 in Mr. Closting's breast, and the place in the 
 stern was empty, as the Kirraboo drew the body 
 backwards overboard into the water. 
 
 " My God ! murder ! murder !" shrieked the 
 two sailors, and instantly threw themselves into 
 the ^ater to draw the wounded man out, who 
 convulsively held fast with both hands to the 
 rope at tlie rudder, although he had lost his con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 Moloch had, in the same instant in which he 
 accomplished the stroke, slung his dagger out 
 into the bay, thrown himself after it, and disap- 
 peared under the water, swimming out into the 
 gloomy, dark, deserteil, rainy night, to take tlie 
 opportunity of gliding on shore somewhere un- 
 remarked. 
 
 Upon the cry of murder from the two sailors, 
 every living thing that was in the neighborhood 
 sprang down the steps, and many were crowded 
 and overthrown. 
 
 The overseers of the alfandega and the police, 
 who were at their posts notwithstanding the 
 pouring rain, hastened to assert their authority, 
 and to bring the wounded man, or the corpse of 
 the murdered fine, to land. 
 
 " is that your captain .''' inquired an officer 
 of the alfandega of the two dripping seamen of 
 the Astrala. " What vessel are you from ?" 
 
 " This gentleman is not our captain," was the 
 answer ; " he is acquainted with our captain, 
 and wished to go on board in a hurry ; his name 
 is Closting.'' 
 
 " Senhor Closting? Closting?" repeated a 
 functionary of police, turning to his colleague 
 of the alfandega ;" the son-in-law of our colonel 
 from Miiias Geraes — who has the handsome 
 wife? Murdered from jealousy, or something 
 of the sort !" added he, in a low voice. 
 
 A lantern was brought from the nearest ioja 
 or venda. Another functionary now held the 
 light over the corpse of the wounded person, 
 and aflirmed : 
 
 " 1 thought, to be sure, I knew him ! it is 
 Mr. Closting, the naturalist. He lives yet, thank 
 Uod !" 
 
 " He stirs ! perhaps the wound is not mortal," 
 whispered several. 
 
 Patrick had crowded himself into the group 
 and likewise contemplated the body, and satis- 
 fied himself more and more that he had not erred 
 — tliatMr. Closting was not his Cajitain Hinango. 
 
 The functionaries and inspectors made hasty 
 arrangiMnents to carry the wounded man to a 
 house, and sent after a surgeon, apothecary, or 
 physician, whichever was hrst to be found. 
 
 " What's the matter there ? what's going on 
 there? inquired Mr. Fitz, who, at the same mo- 
 ment, with Hinango and Thorfin, passed the 
 corner of the Rua do San Pedro. 
 
 *' Its only some one shot or wounded," replied 
 a Portuguese, enveloped in his mantle, drenched 
 with rain. " A branco with moustaches ; no 
 
 merchant, and no negro," added he, and allowed 
 the Northmen to pass before him 
 
 This conclusion of the Portuguese requires an 
 explanation, as a negro is always in Brazil worth 
 from six to eight hundred iniUreis, or even a 
 full conlo ; and a man with moustaches is gen- 
 erally lint publicly lor sale. Such a one may of 
 course be stabbed without an owner losing his 
 negro capital, and without disturbing the 
 business of any Eiercantile house — without 
 moustaches. 
 
 Thorlin, in his quality of physician, pressed 
 through the crowd, and soon found himself be- 
 side the before mentioned " body."' 
 
 Hinango and Fitz followed immediately after 
 him, and all three at once recognised their coun- 
 tryman. Patrick showed himself to his captain, 
 but immediately drew back, as Mr. Fitz was 
 present, whom lie did not trust. 
 
 " They're country people of the Senhor 
 
 friends — countrymen," whispered the functiona- 
 ries in each others ears. " One's a physician : 
 1 know him — a very celebrated physician! it's 
 well that he is here.'* 
 
 In this manner, well known, the first place 
 by the wounded man %vas yielded to Dr. Thorfin, 
 and his orders were obeyed. A surgeon and 
 an apothecary soon appeared, and it was an- 
 nounced that the wound was certainly very dan- 
 gerous, and would jirobjbly be mortal, but, nev- 
 ertheless, a cure might be hoped for. 
 
 " Who will prepare Madame Closting, that she 
 may not learn it too suddenly, before Dr. Thor- 
 lin goes home, who lives in her neighborhood ?" 
 inquired Mr. Fitz, who had stepped aside with 
 Hinango. 
 
 " You hurry out there i you are acquainted 
 there already," observed Hinango. 
 
 " It would be better for you to go, and bespeak 
 the necessary prudence with Robert Walker," 
 was the view of the astronomer. 
 
 " I have never visited them yet !" said Hinan- 
 go ; " and besides, 1 wish to go on hoard now. 
 However, if you think it would be better that 
 Mr. Walker should know it first, then 1 will go 
 out." 
 
 " Are you the captain of the Astrala, in whose 
 boat the Senhor there has been murdered, or 
 wounded?" inquired of him the police officer, 
 who remembered the family of Madame Clos- 
 ting. " I am a police officer," added he po- 
 litely. 
 
 " Your servant," returned Hinango ; " I am 
 the captain of the Astrala, but now', for the 
 first, learn through you, Senhor, that this mur- 
 der took place in my boat. Under what cir- 
 cumstances did that happen ?" 
 
 " In your boat?" inquired Mr. Fitz; " how 
 in all the world came Mr. Closting in your 
 boat ?" 
 
 " Do you know the wounded man ?" further 
 inquired the police officer. 
 
 " I have known him from my youth, without 
 being particularly intimate witli him. We have 
 occasionally seen each other here accidentally," 
 replied Hinango. 
 
 "You must take the trouble to appear at 
 eight o'clock to-morrow morning at the police 
 ollice, with the two sailors, who are down there 
 in the boat. It is on account of the prods ver- 
 bal ; your evidence will be taken, and you can 
 then go to sea. I know the family of the 'ady
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 of this Mr. Closting — a very respectable family. 
 As I hear, there is a young Englishman living in 
 the neighborhood, the son of a very well known 
 house. May I offer you a pinrh of snutT •?" 
 
 The officer, who, as a Brazilian functionary, 
 could not suitably exist vvitliout a snuff-box, 
 offt-red the two countrymen of the wounded 
 man his box, and bofli look a pinch, without, as 
 he expected, "biting" at the conversation, 
 which he had endeavored to turn npon Mr. 
 Walker. 
 
 Hinango stepped up again to Dr. Thorfin, and 
 explained to him that he had concluded to pre- 
 pare the lady of the wounded man indirectly 
 for the shocking intelligence, inquiring at the 
 same time what the other intended in relation 
 to the place whither Mr. Closting should be 
 carried. 
 
 The doctor observed that the ivounded man 
 must be immediately taken where he could re- 
 main for his treatment, since the transportation 
 ■would always be more dangerous at a later pe- 
 riod. " Hasten to his lady, therefore," added 
 he, " and endeavor, as prudently as possible, to 
 convey the intelligence that Mr. Closting has 
 been thrown by a horse. He must have a couch 
 ready for him in a light room, on account of the 
 examination of the wound afterwards. If you 
 can avoid it, say nothing about the attack and 
 stabbing. 
 
 HinaTigo assented to these measores, and 
 hastening to the next stable, where horses and 
 carriages stood ready to hire, mounted a horse 
 himself, and sent a carriage to Dr. Thorfin, for 
 the wounded man. 
 
 The open loja into which Mr. Closting had 
 been temporarily conveyed, was closed, and the 
 crowd, whom curiosity and idleness had assem- 
 bled outside, were obliged to satisfy themselves 
 ■with their own remarks and whisperings. 
 
 The dagger had been driven in directly under 
 the heart, but had, nevertheless, injured no blood 
 vessel. The wounded man gained by degrees 
 his entire consciousness, and now expresed a 
 desire to speak with Dr. Thorfin entirely alone, 
 which was gratified. 
 
 " This dagger stroke was intended not for me, 
 but for another," began Mr. Closting, in a feeble 
 voice. " As concerns myself, doctor, you can- 
 not expect any desirable result of your prolfcs- 
 sional treatment, so long as my mind is not tran- 
 quil. I have some business to transact with a 
 stranger, whom young Mr Banko was to bring 
 to me this evening. He did not come, and I 
 heard that he was on board of the .•^strata. Send 
 some one there immediately, and let them tell 
 him that he must come here with the stranger. 
 I will arrange the matter this evening. Before 
 I have spoken to tliese two, I will not be carried 
 home." 
 
 The decision of this declaration, which the 
 wounded man uttered significantly, although 
 with a weak voice, was a command to the doc- 
 tor. He hastened to commission Mr. Fitz to 
 go on board the Astrala in her boat, and, it pos- 
 sible, to bring Mr. Banko and the stranger im- 
 mediately there, in case the latter was iu the 
 neighborhood. 
 
 The astronomer fulfilled the commission, and 
 soon stepped Upon the deck of the Astrala. 
 
 How surprising the intelligence of the at- 
 
 tempted murder sounded to the two opponents 
 of the wounded man, may be imagined; at 
 least, however, the matter was to them in itself 
 easily explained. They recognised the neces- 
 sity of acce})tiug the invitation, and soon fouiid 
 themselves -beside the temporary coucli of t'le 
 wounded man ; they were then left alone with 
 him. 
 
 Mr. Closting now began, in a low voice, and 
 with emotion : 
 
 " The state in which I lie here, makes de- 
 mands ujjon your consideration. Promise me 
 
 never to utter a syllable about about the 
 
 matter on which you came to me to-day. 
 
 You, Mr. Dujour-Daily will receive the 
 
 sum which you demand; but I require con- 
 sideration from you as the ' father of a fam- 
 
 ily.'— 
 
 " In a portfolio there in my coat pocket, you 
 will find the document which secures to you the 
 
 sum as a possession under the stipulation that 
 
 you enter into business temporarily witli my 
 partner, Senhor Forro ; and the "twenty-two 
 contos will remain there as your property until 
 some time hejice, or be used wherever yoH de- 
 sire to place them, in order tliat a sudden inti- 
 mation and payment to your order, should not 
 reveal an aflair which sliould not be spoken of, 
 wliich ought to be forgotten, from consideratioo 
 for me as the 'father of a family.' Will you 
 do this ? Then look for the documents here 
 directly, and, after a year, you can take your 
 money out of our business, or remain in it with 
 tlie money, at your pleasure." 
 
 Mr. Habakliuk Daily heard this " proposal 
 for his good" with increasing attention. The 
 considerable jiroperty of twenty-two contos, 
 (eleven thousand doliars,) was the principal 
 thing to him. The murder of his father was a 
 " tr.igical event," which, however, ali-eady be- 
 longed to the past. 
 
 It was a question whether his father would 
 have i)laced tliis sum immediately at his disposal 
 in any business wliatever, in case he had met 
 him here living. The business of Forro Si, Co. 
 was not insignificant, and, especially through 
 the respectable connexions with the house of 
 Walker &. Co., its credit had latterly been pecu- 
 liarly favored. Hahakkuk had, consequently, 
 the brilliant prospect of placing himself the next 
 morning, dressed like a geTitleman, as a partner 
 of the house of " Forro &. Co.," or even as the 
 representative of the wounded Senhor Closting, ' 
 under the porch of the exch-ange, with both 
 hands stuffed into the pockets of his sjiencer, and 
 looking down upon tile world in Rua Direita, as 
 a '* made man I" This prosjtect was no tride. 
 
 He examined the designated papers with the 
 greatest apparent indifference, restraining the 
 expressions of his satisfaction. He found the 
 obligations in all order and security, and de- 
 clared his perfect satisfaction with such an ar- 
 rangement. The e.xcitement of his feelings, 
 which lay founded in surprise, led him even into 
 an act of liljorality, (in remarkal)le contradiction 
 to his mercantile principles,) as lie declared that 
 he would only take twenty contos of the amount, 
 and leave the other two contos in Mr. Closling's 
 possession, as " commission per centage for the 
 arranged business." 
 
 Mr. Closting was satisfied with this, and de- 
 sired to have the sum in ready money ; that is.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 327 
 
 \ 
 
 he wished Mr. Dnily to bring it to his bedsirle on 
 the following morning, since he, as the " lather 
 of a family," in such a situation, required money, 
 and besides, the affair would be completed with 
 that, and no more agitated. 
 
 Both parties now gave each other a hand, and 
 promised inviolable silence about what had oc- 
 curred. It was arranged that it should be said 
 that Mr. Xavier Dujour, the grimpeiro, had 
 named iMr. Closting his " executor," and his son 
 Habakkuk had returned to Rio to enter into 
 business with Messrs. Forro &. Closting, as a 
 partner of their bouse. 
 
 Mr. Banko would, under any other circum- 
 stances, have still whispered a word in tlie ear 
 of the naturalist for his personal satisfaction, 
 but he saw the unfortunate man on his death- 
 bed, and reached him his hand for his consola- 
 tion, and remained silent. He required from 
 Mr. Daily the freedom of the negro slave Fran- 
 cisco, ami that his " manumission papers" should 
 be executed on the following day, to which the 
 other willingly agreed. 
 
 Both returned on board the Astrala ; because 
 it was more comfortable (or them there than in 
 the noisy little tavern in the Rua do Cano, and 
 they had also much to saj' to each other. 
 
 Hinango arrived on horseback at the garden 
 gate of Madame Closting. It was already nearly 
 half-past twelve o'clock ; the storm was past — 
 the sky was full of stai-s. Some one knocked, and 
 to the inquiry of a negress, '* who was there ?" 
 he mentioned his name, and added, that he 
 wished to speak to Senhor Roberto. 
 
 " Capitaon Y-nang-hob !" reported old Anna, 
 as .Senhora Gracia and Robert approachetl the 
 gate at the noise, who hitherto, as in former 
 times, had been walking back and forth in the 
 garden, enjoying the wonderful mildness of the 
 starry night. Both looked inquiringly at each 
 other. -Something peculiar must have occurred. 
 AVhat could have brought the captain of the 
 Astrala there so late ? He had never been there 
 before. " He has come to take leave," observed 
 Robert, after a momentary reflection. " He is 
 
 going out, or something must have happened 
 
 in relation to Dolores." 
 
 ** Ever Dolores !" sighed the jealous woman ; 
 •* his first thought is ever Dolores ! — terrible !" 
 sighed she again, 
 
 Robert's reply was re]iressed by Hinango's 
 entrance, as the gate was opened. He dismount- 
 ed from his horse, and greeted the lady and 
 his young friend, who conducted him into his 
 pavilion. The window was open, and the old 
 confidential sacred place under the thermometer 
 outside of tlie wall was sliU there ! Gracia's 
 jealousy demanded that Robert should have no 
 secret towards her, and whatever Hinango 
 might have to announce to him, she must know 
 it, and would gladly have gone directly into the 
 room with the two friends, if this familiarity 
 could have found any apology before the melan- 
 choly misanthropic corsair. She took it then 
 upon her conscience to slip into her old accus- 
 tomed place under the thermometer, and there 
 entirely undisturbed, to listen a little to what 
 the countryman of her husband might have par- 
 ticularly upon his heart. 
 
 The night was as noiseless and deadly silent 
 as a night after a thunder shower on the Gloria 
 2t Kio. The rose leaves hardly moved, not to 
 
 mention the heavy banana curtains. Gracia 
 could then hear every breath of the two friends, 
 and understand their lowest word. 
 
 Robert had already been informed of all that 
 concerned Dolores and Hinango, the Astrala, 
 and the mission to Rio Grande. He knew that 
 Hinango intended to go to sea the next after- 
 noon, and had resolved, notwithstanding his in- 
 disposition, to pay him a visit in the morning. 
 
 Hinango's appearance might be a farewell 
 visit ; Robert was inclined to consider it as such ; 
 but this surmise soon vanished. 
 
 *' The dagger that was intended for me has 
 found another," whispered the Scandinavian. 
 
 " My God I how so r what has happened .'" 
 interrupted the youth. 
 
 " I come to beg you, friend Robert, to under- 
 take a difficult commission. You must prepare 
 Madame Closting tor the arrival of her husband, 
 in Dr. Thorfin's company, wounded !" 
 
 " Wounded .' by the stroke of a dagger that 
 
 was designed for you ? 1 beg you explain 
 
 yourself clearly." 
 
 " Wounded in my boat, at the stairs Dos Pes- 
 cadores—mistaken for me, as he was hurrying 
 on board to me; but what he wanted there, is 
 inexjilicalile to me. Enough — a hired negro, 
 whom our baron had engaged, was waiting for 
 me, as we learnt through an indirect warning. 
 The negro took Closting for me, and wounded 
 him instead of me." 
 
 " Mortally ?" inquired Robert, trembling in 
 every limb, and a shriek was heard in the neigh- 
 borhood of the pavilion. 
 
 Hinango delayed with the answer. Robert 
 hurried to the window, and beheld Gracia lying 
 insensible under a rose bush. He rushed out of 
 the door. Hinango followed him. They carried 
 the unfortunate wife, lifeless, into her pavilion. 
 
 The negrcsses hastened to them. All the re- 
 medies which were at hand were em)iloyed ■io 
 recall her to life. She awakened in delirium, 
 without any consciousness of the reality. After 
 a half hour, the carriage came slowly up to the 
 gate. The wounded man was laid in an apart- 
 ment which the friends had arranged for him. 
 Dr. Thorfin hastened to Senhora Gracia, and 
 found her still without consciousness, in wild 
 delirium. 
 
 -•*^^^**f^3&-^^*'^-t^-^*M~ 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FEMINALITT. 
 
 The fatal boat of the Ash-ala, in the stern of 
 which the murderer of the grimpeiro received 
 the dagger-stroke of the mvstsriously disposing 
 Nemesis, waited a long while at the stairs Dos 
 Pescadores for its real captain, who at length 
 appeared, about two o'clock in the morning, and 
 went on hoard, accompanied by Dr. Thorfin. 
 The latter deemed this precaution of attendance 
 necessary, since an attack was even yet to be 
 feared, in cuse the baron, informed of the mis- 
 take, should have resolved, in all haste, upon 
 some other plan for the accomplishment of his 
 commission. 
 
 The doctor, on his way back, procured the ne-
 
 32S 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 cessary additional medicines at an apothecary's, 
 and returned thereupon to the pavilion on the 
 Gloria, where, \Yith Robert, he watched till day. 
 
 On the next morning, Captain Hinango ap- 
 peared with his two men at the police, and was 
 conducted into an cilice of the dejiartment to 
 which this event appertained. A functionary 
 tool! down every answer to his questions ; they 
 referred to the relations of tlie captain to the 
 wounded man, and to all the communications 
 which had over taken place between them. 
 
 At length the sailors were examined, who were 
 just as fully questioned, and just as punctually 
 answered each question tlirough an interpreter, 
 of which latter, sufficient provision is made in 
 Rio in almost every bureau of the administration. 
 
 The occasion on which Mr Closting was hur- 
 rying so late at night, in a pouring thunder- 
 storm, on board of the Astrala, remained a 
 riddle, which only Mr. Banko and Mr. Daily 
 were able to solve. The result of the exami- 
 nation appeared to bring forward no ground of 
 suspicion against Captain Hinango ; he was, 
 therefore, dismissed, and his already prepared 
 passes for Hayti were recognised as sufficient. 
 He hurried once more to the Gloria, to take 
 leave of Dr. Thorfin, and again to conjure the 
 noble Robert to conduct the whole expedition to 
 Santa Catharina in the best manner possible, to 
 accompany their friend Dolores, and not to leave 
 her, for life and death. 
 
 Robert promised this, adding, " I will endeav- 
 or to fulfil my duty, with God's help, and hope 
 
 that he will grant me strength until I see 
 
 Dolores in safety." 
 
 Hinango did not wish to inquire after the ob- 
 scure signification of these words, but took leave 
 of his two friends, went on board of his vessel 
 and weighed anchor. 
 
 At midday Robert saw from his window the 
 Astrala, under sail, pass the Gloria, steering out 
 of the bay, and his heart beat with singular per- 
 turbation at the thought of again beholding this 
 vessel, at the appointed time, before Santa Cath- 
 arina 
 
 The baron had on the same night received the 
 intelligence of the miscarried enterprise, on his 
 return from Mr. Thomson's to the garden-house 
 which Sally inhabited. He related to the latter, 
 as city news, that a Mr. Closting had been mor- 
 tally wounded, just as he had taken his seat in 
 the boat of a Captain Hinango, to go on board to 
 him. 
 
 Sally was obliged to use all her endeavors to 
 reply to this information with as much indiffer- 
 ence as slie Could without heartlessness — as a 
 woman could manifest at murder in general. 
 She saw Hinango rescued, and now sighed forth 
 a prayer that Dolores might also be saved. 
 
 Gracia had returned to consciousness, and was 
 able to leave her apartment. Her glance ap- 
 peared as if broken, and had not its former ex- 
 pression of animatic life. Her whole counten- 
 ance was changed, and showed no trace of that 
 youthful bloom, which once contradicted the 
 idea of her being a wife and mother. No one 
 would have have recognised two faithful por- 
 traits, the one taken at this time, the other at 
 that time, as representations of the same original. 
 Her soul was compressed within itself. Her 
 body tottered about. 
 
 She greeted and met Robert as if it were not 
 he — -as one of the most intimate friends of her 
 beloved — from whom she had taken leave, and 
 he appeared valual>le to her because he was the 
 kinsman and friend of her Robert. 
 
 As Robert's heart, or rather his soul, had 
 alwavs participated in every motive, every secret 
 feeling, every sentiment of Gracia, he perceived, 
 even now, what was passing within her. He 
 read in her soul, as in an open book, his own 
 sentence of death. 
 
 Those struggles and convulsions which ever 
 tortured her, and ever renewed themselves, ap- 
 peared now once more overcome. The inward 
 sadness of sympathy with which she had only 
 lately thrown herself on his breast, had been 
 overpowered by another sentiment, for which 
 neither she nor we could find a significant 
 word. 
 
 It was a sentiment that fettered her to the sick 
 or dying couch of a man whom she had never 
 loved, and who had never loved her, who had 
 never recognised her value, as she felt that he 
 had deceived and circumvented her, when she 
 herself did not yet know what was the female 
 vocation, nor what was love. The approach of 
 this man excited her repulsion as she had for- 
 merly assured her friend, and, nevertheless, she 
 had thrown herself intentionally into his arms, 
 in spite of the love of a heart that was fettered 
 to her for ever by a mysterious attraction. 
 
 She appeared to have again concjuered, in tho 
 convulsion and struggle of love and of so called 
 iluty. One heart, one life, must here be sacri- 
 ficed ; and, very naturally, that heart encoun- 
 tered the fate which had not yet enjoyed the 
 happiness of being fettered by social bonds, 
 which are more important upon earth than all the 
 bonds of love or sympathy of soul. 
 
 Gracia fulfilled her duty as wife and as mother, 
 and stirred not from the sick bed of her husband, 
 whose wound was soon pronounced not mortal. 
 
 On the other hand, Robert sank upon a sick 
 bed, with a deadly wound of his heart. A violent 
 nervous fever seized him, which soon passed 
 into wild delirium, while his inward life freed 
 itself from the fettering clay, and by anticipation 
 flowed upward to the abode of the soul. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin remained the physician of both, 
 although Aunt Susan was determined to send 
 her English physician to Robert's couch, who 
 was acknowledged to be very experienced and 
 practical in such "diseases of climate, stomach 
 complaints," fevers, and the like. 
 
 Old Mr. Thomson, whose way led him d:illy 
 past the Gloria, lingered twice a day beside Rob- 
 ert's bed, and soon Dolores also appeared, as 
 " Miss Fanny," in company with Miss Susan. 
 
 Madame Clocting saw the "stranger," whose 
 spirit she had once so cordially greeted, and the 
 fury of jealousy again awakened within her, in 
 the inexplicable contradiction of the female 
 heart, which had thought the bond severed that 
 lettered herself to Robert. 
 
 The external appearance of Dolores, the seri- 
 ousness and indisputable dignity which her de- 
 portment evinced, wrought like poison upon the 
 unhappy woman, who endeavored to elude the 
 consciousness of reciprocal love — and manifested 
 this consciousness only so much the more vio- 
 lently in her jealousy
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 339 
 
 With every approach of Doloreg, in the car- 
 riage, on horseback, or on foot, the unhappy one 
 trembled — and her countenance contracted itself 
 to a convulsive expression of bitterness, when 
 she saw her walk through the garden to Robert's 
 pavilion ; while, on the other hand, she must 
 feel that he was struggling with death from love 
 to her, and that he would not have been exposed 
 to such a state, if he had been capable of loving 
 any other woman except herself. But we are 
 wandering into the analjsis of a province that 
 admits of none : the province of the contradic- 
 tions in the female heart. 
 
 What had become of that feeling in which the 
 unfortunate woman once beheld the world, with 
 its sentence, lying like a mass of shadow at her 
 feet ? when she wished to be a speechless lizard, 
 to accompany her friend, to live until her death, 
 unseen, upon the glances of his eyes, wherever 
 he might be ? What had become of that feeling 
 in which she had expressed the longing to live 
 in quiet retirement — separated from the man 
 whom she could neither love nor respect — with 
 him, in spirit, in whose soul her soul was glow- 
 ing ?" 
 
 Was this feeling extinguished .' It could not 
 be, so long as her heart still throbbed at the ap- 
 proach of a female to Robert's sickbed. If it 
 had been extinguished, this person, as well as 
 Robert himself, would have been indifferent to 
 her. 
 
 Week after week passed, and the wings of 
 time flitted slowly over Robert's sick bed. Mr. 
 Closting's state gave every hope of speedy re- 
 covery under Dr. Thorfin's treatment, who, as a 
 physician and a man, unceasingly fulfilled his 
 duty. 
 
 After four weeks, his cure appeared beyond a 
 doubt, and with this prospect, awakened in Gra- 
 cia the eternal contradiction of the female heart ; 
 the sentiment of sympathy for Robert, and her 
 jealousy towards Dolores, knew no bounds. So 
 soon as she believed her husband saved, she gave 
 herself up, with all the unrestrainedness of her 
 former behavior, to the care of Robert, and hardly 
 stirred from his side, excepting when she turned 
 her back upon him in savage anger, so soon as 
 the demon of jealousy seized upon her, which 
 happened (in the waning moon) at least twice in 
 tlie week, if not oftener. 
 
 Robert remained in his pavilion, weak and 
 feeble, though convalescent. The only means 
 for his immediate cure lay in Gracia's power. 
 Her animatic removal had disturbed his nervous 
 life; her sympathy, and her moral and personal 
 freedom, would have been able to save him. 
 
 Instead of this, however, her struggles and 
 convulsions contended and balanced on in the 
 same proportion as her love again acquired force 
 and her jealousy asserted its supposed right. 
 The smallest trifle which led by means of a re- 
 mote connexion of ideas to Dolores, or to any 
 other female, put her out of humor, and she was 
 then no longer mistress of herself 
 
 Among twenty cases of the sort, we will here 
 describe one. One day slie desired Robert's 
 judgement in the choice of a veil, of which seve- 
 ral had been sent to her. Her friend was want- 
 ing in the technical expression by which to de- 
 iignate his taste, and with the purest intentions, 
 wishing to point out to her a still more beautiful 
 pattern than any before them, he remarked, in 
 4-2 
 
 the simplicity of his nature, "I cannot express 
 myself very clearly in this matter of ladies' 
 dress ; when my sister comes the next time, you 
 can look at her veil — the pattern will please you, 
 and she will tell you where she bought it." 
 
 That was enough ! it required no more to in- 
 crease the flame to a burning glow, which, as a 
 smothered spark, slumbered m the depths of her 
 troubled heart. 
 
 " There we have it again !" cried she, her 
 eyes filling with tears. " No ! that is too had ! 
 it is terrible ! always the strange person nearest 
 to him — always Dolores ! There are no hand- 
 somer veil than the veil of this stranger, who, 
 under the title of his ' sister,' has pressed his 
 hand upon his sick bed ! nothing pleases him 
 in me, not even this veil, because 1 might wear 
 it ! How could I have been so foolish as to sup- 
 pose that any thing, any thing whatever, in me, 
 could please him — still less myself; and that 
 this man could ever make me believe that he 
 loved me !" 
 
 " Gracia ! Gracia ! where are you wandering 
 to again .'" cried Robert, smiling, though hardly 
 able to raise his hand jestingly, to threaten her 
 with his finger. " Gracia, be good now !" 
 
 " And he despises me in my insignificance ! 
 he laughs at me, above all things ! — gives me to 
 understand that I must compare myself with 
 the stranger, who always lays near his heart. I 
 must feel right bitterly how insignificant I am 
 compared with her — compared with his stranger ! 
 No, Robert ! no woman ever can or will love 
 you — it ia impossible ! This intentional wound- 
 ing — this endeavor to wound me — this trait in 
 your character is unendurable ! That woman 
 would be unhappy for ever who was fettered to 
 you — thank God that it is not I ! My husband 
 would never have done so — that he never would 
 He has more consideration, more delicacy of 
 feeling than such an elevated spirit as you, who 
 have to do with ideas, who live in the stars, 
 with such strange people, and can find nothing 
 upon earth handsomer than her miserable veil ! 
 No, thank God ! I have nothing to do with such 
 idealists ! No — he would never treat me so ! 
 No — he has too much delicacy of feeling for that ! 
 Unheard of ! that I could ever be so foolish as to 
 believe that you loved me ! — unheard of ! No ! 
 no woman will ever love you ! never ! never ! 
 never !" 
 
 After this soliloquy, Madame Closting left the 
 pavilion, and could not control herself sufficient- 
 ly to give her friend his medicine at the ap- 
 pointed time. She sent a negress. The patient 
 sent to beg her to take the trouble to come to 
 him — he had a request to make. The lady sent 
 back word, " that he might say to the negress 
 what he wished — she had no time then." 
 
 Robert beckoned to the slave to leave him. 
 His " cursed head " fell back upon the couch 
 as i^ it were of lead, his eye gazed at the sky, as 
 if his soul would there make good its claims 
 upon love. A large tear pearled upon his eye- 
 lashes, his bleeding heart felt the response of 
 sympathy, which it, notwithstanding, was not 
 able to dissolve. 
 
 •''**^^^^-^agi'^*-^**t*r*—
 
 330 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MANHOOD. 
 
 On the next dav, Gracia made her appearance 
 iiti a visit lo Robert, in the best humor— happy, 
 Lurostraiued, and jesting, diligently occupied 
 with incieasin- all the conceivable comforts ol 
 the patient. 
 
 Robert felt himself oblii;ed to express, once 
 for all, the demands of his injured and deeply 
 wounded sense of honor as a man, wilh res|iect 
 to the woman. He desired his friend to take a 
 seat, and ba-^an, in a low voice : 
 
 " Gracia, listen to me ! I will unfold to you 
 my inmost heart as a man, as you once opened 
 yo'ur heart to me, and allowed me a glimpse into 
 your soul. 
 
 " This illness in which I am lying, threatens 
 mv life— 1 feel that. I will not look back npon 
 its ori,i;in ; but I require from you to look back 
 upon those moments in which your soul had, 
 as it were, iiut oil" its mortal integument ; upon 
 tiiat moment in which you felt the bonds ot the 
 soci.il world rent asunder— when the world and 
 its misery was l.ir from you— lay deep below- you 
 — as you looked down upon it from the height ot 
 your'spiritual existence; those moments formed 
 the crisis of my life— they decided my future. 
 
 " As you appeared to me at that time— as a 
 spiritual" bein;;, as a soul, your entity was inter- 
 woven with mine— in love. The bond of soul- 
 sympathv was confirmed, and only in this de- 
 claration lies the explanation of the power 
 which fetters me, that I cannot separate mysell 
 from you ; that, in spite of all injuries, m spite 
 of all ill usaae on your part, I cannot leave 
 you— I cannot hate you. Your existence, like 
 human life i^enerally on eartli, is twofold— the 
 soul's life, and the vegetation of the clay tene- 
 ment. I recognised your essence in that higher 
 sphere, and have even endured, hitherto, the 
 view of the " caricature of your existence," in 
 seeing you s icriticed to your social relations, m 
 the unfortunate connexion of marri^ige without 
 love, whose influence appears to destroy your 
 nol)ler nature. So soon as you descend from the 
 sohere of tlie soul's life, and feel the fetters which 
 bind vou to a man whom you, as you say, ' can 
 neither love nor resi)ect,' you torture me with 
 your convulsions, and the appearance of your 
 iinas^e becomes a curse to me. 
 
 "'You assert your prerogative as a woman ; 
 I assert no prerogative as a man, but my right 
 and my disnity. Your eternal doubt in my love 
 is deceit; 1 know tliat you are convinced of my 
 love; but tiiis contradiction in you, perhaps, 
 characterises exactly in you the woman. Look 
 into yourself; ask yourself what fluctuates and 
 rages within you .' what for ever stimulates you 
 to torture me, and to torment yourself? It is 
 your unhappy consciousness of having received 
 witiiin vourself a foreign, vulgar, common ele- 
 ment, vvUich distorts your noble being— which 
 tiunts your pure nature; it is the mlluence of a 
 man whom you do love, notwithstanding— as the 
 father of your children '." 
 
 '■ Robert !" interru|)ted she, with a tone ol 
 bitter sadness, and wrung her hands. ^^ 
 
 •■ Until now you have never known love, 
 continued the sutterer ; " no love of a man ! 
 \u\i have coniouuded the care of au egotist tor 
 
 his property vritli the sentiment of lore; uuA 
 this fellowship on your part with the foreign 
 element of materialism, which degrades you lo 
 the lowest service, effects the moral disturbance 
 in vou — the fearful consequence of such a love- 
 less union. If I could tear myself away from 
 vou, if I could hate and despise you, I should 
 sull'er less. Eut that I am unable to do, since 
 Ihe moment when I recognised you as a spn-it- 
 u.il being, as a soul worthy of my love. \our 
 pure chum upon the love of an honorable man, 
 has thrilled me all the more, as it found its way 
 out of the boundless wretchedness of the rela- 
 tions which involved you. The thought of se- 
 parating from you, would be a contradiction m 
 mvself— a crime against the spirit ol love ! 1 he 
 appearance of vour pure being, as it seized me 
 in those moments, has become a part of mysell ; 
 your image is always before me— in me— as it 
 magically bound— as it appeared to me at that 
 moment; and to my unheard of wretchedness, 
 to my despair, no power in heaven or upon 
 earth is able to tear it away— to destroy it in 
 me ; not even the woman's curses, the woman 
 who stands in eternal contradiction with this 
 image— with that spiritual being which I love 
 in you !" , ., , 
 
 " Robert !" sighed the unfortunate, while her 
 lipg quivered, and a stream of tears impeded 
 the word. . , 
 
 " I have often asked myself," cnntmued he, 
 " how I should be able to bear the ill usage of 
 a woman, as a man, with proud self-conscious- 
 ness ; and now the twofold existence, as a soul 
 in paralyzing bonds, and as a woman who denies 
 her suul in marriage without love, Inis given me 
 information upon this question. I repeat for 
 ever, what I have often asserted to you : I sepa- , 
 rate that spiritual image— yourself, your nobler 
 nature— from the degradation of the woman who 
 showers upon me reproach upon reproach. 
 These curses do not touch me ; the soul that I 
 love does not send them forth ; the heart that 
 loves me shares not in them. That essence in 
 you that fetters me in a mysterious manner, is a 
 phenomenon in the domain of clairvoyance, 
 foreign and distant from this earthly misery. 
 That being— vourself— does not know that the 
 humiliated woman reproaches me, curses me; 
 that woman who curses me knows nothing of 
 our soul's sympathy, nothing of the spiritual 
 existence in which our love lies. That is the 
 solution of the riddle of my love to you. And 
 perhaps there are hundreds of unfortunates in 
 my situation, who feel themselves lettered in 
 the same manner, and are unable to free them- 
 selves, without, like me, being able to give an 
 account of their nameless, fearful state. 1 behold 
 it 1 Torture me no more henceforth. I en- 
 dure sufficient torments in my existence itself. 
 However, I do not reproach you ; but I pray 
 lio.l that he will end my life. But as long as I 
 am condemned to live on earth, I shall main- 
 tain my senliment of honor, as a man before 
 you as a woman. Shall i esteem you as a soul- 
 respect vourself as a woman." _ 
 
 Graci'a seized his hand, and moistened it with 
 her tears, liotli were silent. Robert felt a mo- 
 ment an alleviation of his sufferings, after hav- 
 ing' given them utterance, and powerful ly en- 
 deavored to extricate himself from the cnaoso 
 contradiction which produced them. He bes-'ijcd
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 331 
 
 liis friend to read something to him. She ap- 
 peared to understand the intention of the request. 
 Although she was by no means in a condition to 
 turn her attention immediately to any foreign 
 subject, she constrained herself all the sooner to 
 comply with the request. She knew tliat she 
 afforded him pleasure when she read to him, not 
 so much by the reading itself, as by the spiritual 
 intercourse which it produced; since the minds 
 of both, then in some foreign idea, as it were, re- 
 cognised each other again. She was familiar 
 with his favorite books, and taking one in her 
 hand, she seated herself near him, and read. The 
 works which enchained Robert were such as 
 were founded upon a profound thought, an ex- 
 alted idea, which his mind pursued, or on which 
 he could soar aloft into a domain that lay far 
 from the miseries of this earth. 
 
 The oftener he enjoyed similar lectures with 
 his friend, so much the more did he feel the 
 intellectual relationship of their natures, and so 
 much stronger appeared the contrast of those 
 convulsions in which a " nail on the wall," or the 
 pattern of a veil, could deprive the poor woman 
 of her self-possession, and which would be as 
 inexplicable to the psychologist, as it was to the 
 lover himself, who separated the spiritual being 
 from the suffering woman. This spiritual bond, 
 in contrast to the fetters of social relations, 
 proved, on the other hand, all the more strongly, 
 the extremes in tlie woman, who was convinced 
 within herself of the sentiments belonging to 
 that sphere in which her spirit soared, while 
 life fettered her to a mass of matter, from which 
 she vainly sought to tear herself. The solidity 
 and profundity with which, in their common 
 readings, she comprehended and penetrated their 
 subjects, always surprised the youth less than 
 they enchanted him. Tliese convulsions of the 
 sutlerer were of course the sooner explained by 
 the contrast in the individuality of the vulgar 
 man, who had, through social regulations, be- 
 come one flesh with her, and whose contact must, 
 very naturally, systematically disturb the interior 
 of a being, which the former had no occasion tor, 
 and set aside with the greatest indifference. 
 
 The bitter feeling of being separated from 
 Robert by social bonds, was the ground of all 
 similar convulsions with those which we have 
 observed, and which, of course, would never 
 have taken place, if the unnatural connexion with 
 a foreign element had never existed. 
 
 ** Can you read this little poem, without a fit 
 or convulsion of jealousy ?" asked Robert, inter- 
 rupting the reading, opening the portfolio, and 
 giving to his friend a manuscript. 
 
 " Oh, I know it already !" exclaimed Gracia, 
 smiling. " Believe not that there is a single 
 piece of paper in any secret pocket of your port- 
 folios which I have not examined. I know this 
 strange dear little poem," continued she, and 
 read, with a peculiar melancholy expression, the 
 following verses, without title, bearing only the 
 date ; 
 
 , July 4th, 
 
 what Heaven on earth could'st thou impart 
 Unto a loving female heart I 
 
 How melted at thy glance's light 
 The icy chains that held my heart ; 
 How flew the demons of the night, 
 Which, by sad doubts and fearlul blight, 
 Had wrought my wo with fiendish art 
 
 Those tears, that fell from thy dear eyes 
 
 Like dew upon a dying flower, 
 
 Woke my chill heart to sweet surprise, 
 
 Bidding new, fair, grand lile arise 
 
 In the sick soul, healed by love's power. 
 
 And 3t the pressure of thy hand 
 Whose touch so magically bound us, 
 I felt my sou! again expand. 
 Saved, far iVom grief, on lofty land, 
 Where reconciling angels hover round us.** 
 
 " And what do you think of this poetry ?" 
 asked Robert. 
 
 " It is a spirit's kiss — a i-eal poem ; but not of 
 a poet, it is of a poetess ; of a young lady be- 
 coming poetess from love ; it is also addressed 
 to the famous privateer, to Hinango, but cer- 
 tainly not by your so called ' sister ?' " 
 
 " How do you know that V 
 
 " This time there is no mystery in my know- 
 ledge — no second-sight. Did Hinango not send 
 it to you with another poem ? the most horrible 
 Elegy 1 ever did read ; I mean the poem ' As- 
 trala's Sentence,' which you have translated into 
 English." 
 
 " Well — but you have not yet answered my 
 question : what do you think of this lady, as far 
 as you know now the destroying eflisct of her 
 so called love upon Hinango's mind." 
 
 " IVIy judgement ! Know for the first, my good 
 Robert, you may judge every thing in the world 
 but a woman." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Because a woman cannot judge herself; 
 how then can another judge her ? Even a woman 
 cannot judge another woman." 
 
 ' Nevertheless," observed Robert, " there 
 seems to be a certain judgement in your opinion 
 of this lady. You may be right; and I am 
 strengthened in my belief that a woman can 
 never commit a crime ; a woman is always in- 
 nocent, because she knows not what she is doing 
 — she cannot judge herself." 
 
 •' Beautifully explained, my dear Robert ; for 
 this opinion alone you merit to be loved by a 
 woman as I love you." 
 
 ■' And to be wounded in the sanctuary of my 
 soul by a woman, like my friend Hinango, and 
 to be persecuted from .minute to minute, from 
 second to second, restless and hopeless, by the 
 image, the phantom of a being that once as a 
 soul became a part of my own being, of my ex- 
 istence — and that, as a wife, resigns herself to 
 the disposition of another man in sensuality. 
 
 " Yes, I feel it ; there must exist a heaven 
 upon earth in love, in true love, in the disso- 
 lution of two kindred beings into one soul, into 
 one existence ; but I also feel there is no hcli 
 upon earth — no curse on the lip of a demon — 
 no torture in hell, like the curse of such a love, 
 of which the remarkable poem, " Astrala's Sen- 
 tence," gives an idea — but only a faint idea !" 
 
 " Terrible ! horrible !" sighed Gracia, pres- 
 sing her hands as if in prayer, staring upwards , 
 
 " but '' she interrupted herself, after a long 
 
 silence, " nevertheless, I should like to have 
 known, or to know, that witch of a female crea- 
 ture that ever exercised such power upon a man 
 like Hinango." 
 
 " That is the mystery which Hinango, as a 
 
 * This poem is translated in several languages to mask 
 the original, the beauty of which the above trauslatiuD 
 give a clear idea.
 
 332 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 man of honor, bears to his grave. In every case, 
 she must have been a peculiarly strange being, 
 if a couclusion is allowed from the effect to the 
 cause. And this beautiful little poem, though 
 a very insultjcient translation, may serve as a 
 proof that the unknown amiable being at least 
 has once iiad a soul, before her soul, as it seems, 
 became dissolved in a soulless mass of matter, 
 as tile essence of a feeble magnet cleaves to a 
 mass of iron." 
 
 " liut 1 cannot believe that any woman would 
 ever liave compromised her sex, in acting trea- 
 sonably against a man like Hinango." 
 
 " I am glad to hear your expression of such a 
 confidence iu the character of my friend ; it 
 seems that you knosv him particularly well." 
 
 ** I know your friend Hinango, tlie country- 
 man of my husband, rather more by his enemies 
 than by hi.: friends; but I have a clear idea of 
 his position — of his political, social, and moral 
 Btandiug in the world ; and I conclude my 
 opinion ot liis character, of his heart and mind, 
 in consei^uence of iiis position." 
 
 " Very well — extremely well," interrupted 
 Robert, smiling ; " and now to what conclusion 
 have you arrived in regard to this lady, the 
 poetess of this ' dear little poem,' as you call 
 it 1" 
 
 " If I myself, as a woman, should allow my- 
 self an opinion of another woman, without 
 giving my judgement — you understand ? — then, 
 with my hand upon my heart, I would declare, 
 in regard to this strange and unknown being ; 
 it must have been a woman of no ^ Juste miJUu^ 
 as the French call it in their politics. The 
 authoress of this little poem, having been hon- 
 ored with the love of your friend Hinango, 
 must have been one of the most noble beings of 
 our sex, or one of the most degenerated. The 
 love of a man like Hinango, judged by his ene- 
 mies, is a pearl, which is not given to every 
 woman. There must have been spiritual attrac- 
 tion — sympathy ; because only such a bond 
 would be able to bind Hinango, a man who 
 would not stand alone in the world, if material 
 or physical qualities would ever have exercised 
 the least attraction upon him. Not knowing 
 the conduct of the so called ' Astrala,' in con- 
 nexion with Hinango, I can certainly not judge 
 her ; but 1 believe that the authoress of this dear 
 little poem, addressed to Hinango, would act, 
 and has always been acting, as a woman, in any 
 situation or position, whatever her fate might 
 have been : 1 hope slie has always done honor 
 to our sex." 
 
 " 1 thank you, for the sake of Hinango and all 
 manhood," replied Robert; " I shall take notice 
 of your womanlike opinion of your ' sister-iu- 
 love,' Astrala, and I shall ;dlow myself to add 
 your uobie expressions of confidence, to the 
 manuscript of tins dear little poem — to the honor 
 of your sex." 
 
 " Alay i ask you, dear Robert," she interrup- 
 ted, " lor « hat purpose did you translate tliat 
 horrible poem, ' Astrala's Sentence ' into En- 
 glish .' iilay 1 ask you for what purpose .'" re- 
 peated she, with her usual naivete. 
 
 " To be deposited in the foundation or corner 
 etone of an ' Asylum lor hysterical women,' ' 
 answ ered Robert, with a certain positive intona- 
 tion and Gracia blushed. 
 
 " Yes, my dear," continued the sufferer, pres- 
 
 sing her little hands, " I feel it is at last Tery 
 necessary that asylums, with strong iron bars, 
 should be established for hysterical women, who 
 once have cast themselves away, witliout love, 
 for a miserable living, and tlien demand the love 
 of a man of honor, who, perhaps, after their own 
 views, would lie able ' to prepare a heaven upon 
 earth for a loving heart.' It seems 1o me to be 
 time at last that human society, which estab- 
 lishes quarantine institutions against the cholera 
 and other plagues, should pay attention to the 
 ravages and destruction of nervctus disease, the 
 origin of which lies in the regulations of the 
 social world, and the extension of which is 
 increasing with the conditions of so called civil- 
 ization. 
 
 " i\Iay every woman," he continued, with a 
 rising, threatening voice, " may every woman — 
 who knows best the wretchedness of her own 
 heart — may she beware of crime and murder ; 
 may she content herself with conjugal sensuality, 
 when she once has delivered herself, without 
 heait and without soul — as a machine — to a man 
 
 who wanted nothing but a machine." 
 
 " Robert !" cried Gracia, in a painful voice, 
 folding her hands in despair. 
 
 " Gracia ! do not interrupt me now ! to-day I 
 claim my right as a man. May every woman," 
 he continued, " who has cast herself away with 
 resignation of love, separate herself from the 
 man whom she despises, before she claims love, 
 or declares her love to another. The law of na- 
 
 jture demands it, to say nothing of the nameless 
 
 , fate of the man in whose soul the image of a 
 being lies ' for eternity,' whilst the same being 
 
 I upon earth degrades herself in the arms of an- 
 
 j other man in sensuality. 
 
 " As in a well governed state the physician is 
 
 1 bound to indicate to the authorities the cases 
 where cholera and plague threaten destruction ; 
 the physician, also, should be bound in such 
 
 [ c;ises of dangerous nervous derangement to de- 
 clai-e, after his exact information : ' In this case. 
 Separation is the single condition to prevent in- 
 creasing physical destruction and social crimes ; 
 and to execute immediately the orders of the 
 worthy physxian, ' Asylums for hysterical wo- 
 men' should exist in every well governed state. 
 " May legislation at last enter into the pro- 
 vince of destruction and despair, into the abyss of 
 which descends sacrifice upon sacrifice; happy 
 when death at last delivers them from an ex- 
 istence for the sutl'erings of which the man finds 
 no word — bound by his sentiment of honor to 
 silence — to 'silence for eternity !' " 
 
 " Notwithstanding, and nevertheless : I love 
 you, my dear and good Robert," interrupted the 
 interesting Brazilian woman, escaping (in the 
 full originality of her character) Irom the depths 
 of sorrow and melancholy, into wliich R')bcrt's 
 sufferings conducted her, to the extreme of a 
 childlike happiness and self-contentment. " X 
 love, you my dear Robert : and 1 am convinced 
 that you love me as ever a man did love a wo- 
 man — and that you will never love a woman 
 upon earth except me ! Yes, my dear Robert — 
 1 te«l it, and 1 could become mad as soon as 1 enter 
 into reflection upon my fate : to be attached to 
 
 a man who is as strange to me as any person 
 
 under the sun ; and at v.-hose approach 1 trem- 
 ble and 1 shudder in all my nerves ! Sometimes 
 his approaches cause me physical cramps, and I
 
 DOLORES 
 
 833 
 
 beg him with tears to leave me, but in vain 
 He declares he will not leave me, and — —" sud 
 denly she changed the intonation of her words 
 like the variation of a musical instrument, by 
 touching the " pedal," and continued, in the most 
 hearty voice of kindness and love: '* And if you 
 are going away — far away — I shall discover your 
 residence ; I shall go travelling also — by water 
 and by land I shall find you out wherever you 
 Would hide yourself, and one day you will see 
 
 me where you never expected it." 
 
 The old negress Anna appeared on thethresh- 
 hold in the open door, announcing the visit of 
 the friends of Bota Fogo, arrived at the gate in 
 the well known blue coach. 
 
 - ■vWS^^*^Sf-Mp .#S*^*.«W» 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 VIEWS OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
 The visit of the family from Bota Fogo inter ■ 
 rupted this intercourse. The time for the voy^ 
 »ge to Santa Catharina approached. 
 
 The Baron de Spandau made his appearance 
 with his bride and Miss Fanny, together with 
 Mr. Thomson and Dr. Thorfin ; to convince 
 himself that Robert was hastening " with giant 
 strides" towards recovery, and would be able to 
 go on board in a fortnight. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin was of opinion that the sea voy- 
 age, and the well known mild climate of the 
 island, v/ould operate beneficially upon the inva- 
 lid, and gave the family permission to make this 
 arrangement for the voyage, in so far as he, in 
 his capacity of physician, must previously coun- 
 tersign Robert's travelling passport. 
 
 " And you will accompany us too, I hope, 
 Seiihora !" continued Mr. Thomson, in conver- 
 sation with Madame Closting. " Is it not so .' 
 you will go with us to Santa Catharina ?" 
 
 " If Mr. Closting can sit up by that time, and 
 goes with you, I shall very naturally be glad to 
 make the excursion. I have heard so much of 
 the beautiful scenery of that place— it must be 
 even more lovely than the environs of Rio." 
 
 " The island of Santa Catharina" replied the 
 old man, " bears the motto, ' it is good to be 
 here, let us build tabernacles here !' one for my 
 nephew, one for the baron, and one for me ! and 
 out of the tabernacles we will make English 
 cottages, and arrange them right comfortably !" 
 
 The young lady smiled, and considered the 
 whole conversation as a jest of the old widower. 
 The baron contemplated this interview with 
 sharp side glances, as he had long since known, 
 through indirect communication from the talka- 
 tive old man, the plan, which the latter had 
 attributed to his nephew. " It was " water to 
 his mill," and formed at the same time a wheel 
 which entered into the machinery of his secret 
 intentions, as if it had been cast or turned for 
 the purpose. 
 
 Dolores spoke to Robert's friend, and repeated 
 her thanks as his sister, for all the sympathy and 
 care which she had bestowed upon her brother 
 during his severe illness. The hearty sincerity 
 of the words, as well as of the looks and whole 
 deportment of the poetess, touched and agitated 
 
 the poor woman. She felt, more than ever, how- 
 little cause she had to entertain any sentiment of 
 hatred, or envy, or bitterness, toward a being 
 who, under other circumstances, would perhaps 
 have become htr most intimate friend on earth. 
 
 Whether Dolores, before Robert's illness, had 
 knov/n of thebond of friendship which fettered 
 the playmate of her childhood to this youns; 
 lady, cannot be decided ; but by means of that 
 female property of suspecting and recognising a 
 similar bond at the first glance, so soon as an 
 opportunity offers itself of observing the two 
 enamored beings, she had long known how 
 both were united with each other. An inex- 
 pressible sentiment of foreboding and of anguisli 
 seized the bereaved friendof the martyr Alphon- 
 .so, when she saw the invalid in such a horrible 
 though morally pure relation, and she trembled 
 when the thought of his future urged itself upon 
 her. No one knew the noble nature of the 
 youth 80 well as Dolores, through whose society 
 and intellectual influetice it had been developed. 
 No one, however, knew the self-destroying om- 
 nipotence of his feelings, which, mocked by the 
 British system of education, had reached the ex- 
 tent which occasionally manifests itself among 
 British characters, misunderstood by their own 
 nation, and admired by men who prize and honor 
 the man in whatever nation they find him. 
 
 It has been often asserted, " a Briton as a 
 friend is capable of every sacrifice, and if nothing 
 else remains for him to offer in confirmation of 
 his friendship or love, he sacrifices himself." 
 We believe it, for no where do we find so sharp 
 a contrast as in the prejudices and regulations of 
 the British social world, and the grandeur of 
 British intellect, and the depth of feeling which 
 evinces itself in their national literature, and in 
 the characters of their immortal authors and 
 poets Only the aim of a confused incomplete- 
 ness, which has exercised itself since the refor- 
 mation in England in social chains, (and recog- 
 nises in the element of materialism the exter- 
 nal greatness and magnificence,) could form this 
 rigid contradiction. This contradiction is, in 
 exact proportion, as colossal as British dullness 
 on the one hand, and the grandeur of British lite- 
 rature on the other, which latter is founded upon 
 the (in itself) insulted national intellect. 
 
 The appearance of the baron as a member of 
 the young Englishman's family, was one of the 
 most singular encounters which Madame Clos- 
 ting could ever have experienced, in retrospect 
 upon the " memorial" in the garden gate. 
 
 The baron did not omit to make a visit like- 
 wise to the sick bed of the celebrated naturalist, 
 and the lady of the house saw herself placed 
 under the necessity of politely accompanying 
 him thither. She went, difficult as it even was 
 on one hand to control herself — on the other 
 hand, to leave out of sight the "sister" of her 
 friend, who, with Aunt Susan, remained at Ro- 
 bert's couch — where, of course, the beam of hia 
 eye could fall upon her. 
 
 Although she had long known that such an 
 encounter ofglances could take place unhindered, 
 at every visit of her friend in Bota Fogo, still the 
 feeling that a single soul-utterance of the sort 
 could occur now in her neighborhood, and as 
 it were in the " topographical domain of her 
 sympathetic sovereignty," had something in it 
 indescribably painful for her, the explanation o!
 
 334 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 which, could only be found in the mystery of her 
 ieminality. 
 
 Madame Closting had very naturally, at the 
 return of her husband, explained the circum- 
 stance which induced her to remove to the pa- 
 vilion of a relative, of wliich we have become 
 sufficiently informed from her former commu- 
 nication to Robert. 
 
 Mr. Closting found himself a little embarrassed 
 about the refusal of credit by his associate, in 
 respect to her subsistence in his absence, but 
 excused himself by all sorts of apologies in rela- 
 tion to his business, which, after the principle 
 of tile modern mercantile world, was carried on 
 by " wholesale," which sets aside numerous 
 payments of insignificant sums as inditrerent in 
 the highest degree, so long as credit is main- 
 tained ; and the creditor is obliged to content 
 himself with the " respectability" of the debtor. 
 He declared that " a mistake" had taken place in 
 the correspondence, that Mr. Forro had not un- 
 derstood him, and, as concerned the importunity 
 of the Baron, "he had already spoken to him 
 about it — it had all been good will and jesting on 
 the pait of the baron ; good will in making her 
 the advance, and a jest to rally and bring her the 
 money in person." 
 
 The wife was very naturally satisfied with the 
 explanation, because her husband g.ive it to her, 
 and she had not the right to doubt the validity, 
 substantiality, and truth of any declaration of her 
 husband. 
 
 The visit of the baron took place in the mea- 
 sured, polite manner of the civilized world, 
 which is not wanting in phrases to express sym- 
 pathy and commiseration, and wishes and hopes 
 lor the health and happiness of the persons to 
 whom a visit is made — in good society. 
 
 The family from Bota Fogo departed, and Gra- 
 cia alone remained behind with the invalids ; 
 where she, as ever, stayed with one, when the 
 other sank to sleep. 
 
 Occupied in mind with Dolores, she continued 
 the reading in which she had been interrupted. 
 
 The two ladies went back to Bota Fogo in 
 Dr. Thortin's attendance; Mr. Thomson and the 
 baron rode into town. 
 
 " You think, then, that our Robert will really 
 take the little Brazilian with him to Santa Catha- 
 rina !" inquired the spy of the old widower. 
 
 " Why not ? But all this must remain between 
 ourselves, baron. I hope that our present fam- 
 ily connexion gives me a right to talk plainly 
 with you about such affairs." 
 
 " Does that require to be mentioned now .'" 
 inquired the other, in a tone of the greatest inti- 
 macy ; " have I ever given you occasion to 
 doubt my sincerity .'" 
 
 " Never, baron ! if that had been the case, we 
 should not have arrived at the position, with re- 
 spect to eaclr other, in which we find oursselves 
 at present. I have, then, (between ourselves 
 be it said,) long ago given my counsel to Robert, 
 for the gaining of his object ; for that both under- 
 stand each other, that both are foolishly fond of 
 each other, that they love each other as well as 
 ever a young man or a pretty woman have loved, 
 that requires no explanation." 
 
 " That she has him in her net," remarked the 
 baron," is as true as that I sit here on my saddle ; 
 that 1 have long ago observed in our Kobert, 
 
 without having seen them together. But whether 
 she is so firmly attached to him that she would 
 for his sake give her suspicious husband his 
 cong^, or quietly take her leave of him ' sans 
 adieu,' as the French say, that is the question 
 Many have already believed themselves in the 
 possession of a woman, and at length possessed 
 nothing else of her but a lock of hair, or, at the 
 utmost, a garter !" 
 
 " I assert, however, according to ray experi- 
 ence," observed Mr. Thomson, " that both have 
 long ago understood each other." 
 
 " I by no means doubt that," exclaimed the 
 baron, *' in relation to a certain point ; one must 
 be as blind as a mole, if one does not remark 
 that, or as contracted as many husbands, who 
 consider themselves perfect, as husbands, and 
 of course fear no concurrence." 
 
 " Do you really believe tl'.at Mr. Closting 
 does not see through this connexion .' or do you 
 think that he sees through it, and pretends 
 ignorance of it, because it is the most innocent 
 that can ever occur." 
 
 " Mr. Closting, so far as I know him," replied 
 the baron, " is an egotist, and took a wife for 
 economy, because he required a woman. But 
 even granting that he observes a mutual sympa- 
 thy between the lady and the young man, why 
 should he trouble himself about the heart of a 
 woman, so long as she only serves him in that 
 for which he took her .' An egotist knows no 
 jealousy, because he knows no love." 
 
 " The French, to be sure, laugh about such 
 an 'Amour d'unjeune Anglaise,' " replied Mr 
 Thomson, " and find it inconceivable that we, in 
 such cases, respect social relations, so long as 
 they are not dissolved on both sides, and of 
 course are no longer social bonds. Notwith- 
 standing this, however, every Frenchman would 
 respect a young man like Robert in such a posi- 
 tion." 
 
 " And commiserate him, so long as he does not 
 attain his object !" said the bridegroom, laughing. 
 
 " That affair at the return of Mr. Daily — the 
 inspection of the diamond on the part of the 
 astronomer, the claim of the house of Rossfariick 
 on Mr. Closting, and a hundred other circum- 
 stances, gives me the suspicion that the unfor- 
 tunate woman would rather separate herself 
 to-day than to-morrow from the man, who " 
 
 " Who is, nevertheless, a clever fellow, and, 
 as a man of business, knows how to provide for 
 his family. And more is neither required by 
 the world nor by the wife." 
 
 " That's true, to be sure, and if every woman 
 desired to part from a husband who sustains a 
 bad name, the advocates and notai'ies would make 
 a rich business out of the divorces, that's clear." 
 
 " You have not yet had an opportunity to in- 
 quire of Robert aloue how far he has progressed 
 in his plan .'" 
 
 " Not yet; but I shall ride past this evening, 
 and arrange the matter then. He seems to be 
 afraid of a falling out with his father, who im- 
 parted to him certain " Private Instructions," 
 wherein he particularly insists that Robert shall 
 only take an English woman for his wife ; not a 
 foreigner, in any case. Now Mr. Walker is a 
 singular person ; he has his spleen like all of us, 
 and wishes me to the devil with my preference 
 for foreign women !" 
 
 " You are in high favor with SeSora Isabella,
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 336 
 
 are you not, Mr. Thomson ?" inquired the spy, 
 in a very confidential tone. 
 
 " With ' Miss Fanny,' as we call her .' to be 
 sure, so far as I know — certainly. I postpone 
 my declaration until we are in Santa Catharina, 
 and have never yet despaired of a happy result. 
 I have never yet received the ' basket,' Monsieur 
 le Baron, and in this case I do not fear it in the 
 least." 
 
 " So far as I hear from Miss Susan, you have 
 little cause to fear a repulsive answer." 
 
 " Is that true?" cried the old widower, very 
 much delighted ; " is that true .' has Miss Susan 
 sounded, at a distance, how the heart of my 
 Seiiora Isabella is inclined .' whether it is hard 
 or soft ?" 
 
 " Soft, very soft," replied the other, with sig- 
 nificance. " But what I say to you, now, Mr. 
 Thomson, must likewise remain between our- 
 selves — do you understand ? ' Confidence be- 
 gets confidence,' says the King of Saxony, and I 
 have the same right to your discretion as you 
 have to mine, and more than the King of Saxony 
 has to the confidence of his people !" 
 
 " I understand — I understand !" replied the 
 old widower, very hastily and impatiently ; 
 " then Miss Susan has sounded ?" 
 
 " Has sounded, and has found out what was 
 to be expected. Senora Isabella is attached, 
 very much attached, and only awaits your de- 
 claration; but if you ever allow it to be per- 
 ceived, Mr. Thomson, that I have, even only by 
 a look, revealed this secret to you, then, natu- 
 rally, your whole undertaking will fail !" 
 
 " Fail the whole under — ta — kin" .'" 
 
 grumbled Mr. Thomson to himself, while he, m a 
 trot a I'Anglaise, jumped up with every syllable. 
 " You think that it may yet fail?" inquired he, 
 as the horse again went at a more quiet pace. 
 
 " That is natural : you have yourself too much 
 experience as a man, not to perceive this criti- 
 cal state. Even Miss Susan must not know that 
 I have exchanged a word with you on this affair, 
 by no means! never ! for she will not allow that 
 she knows who Dolores is ; she will not allow 
 it to be seen that she suspects what is hidden 
 behind ' Isabella' — do you understand ?" 
 
 " I understand you, baron, and I promise you 
 that I will hold my tongue ; I give you my hand 
 upon it." 
 
 He held out his hand to his future brother-in- 
 law, and the two already found themselves in 
 the Rua d'Ajuda, and broke off from the impor- 
 tant conversation, as the noise of the city dis- 
 turbed them. 
 
 Captain Hinango had escaped the baron. The 
 object now was to deliver Dolores, or to put her 
 out of the way, according to the order from 
 Buenos Ayres, in spite of all resistance on the 
 part of the Humanitarios, whom he had to fear 
 in the " Mazzini" and the "Astrala." 
 
 Robert alone stood in the way ; his recovery 
 almost warranted the certainty that he would 
 accompany Dolores, and if this should be the 
 case, the personal delivery of the condemned 
 would be a difficult problem. 
 
 Robert must then be detained in Rio de Janeiro 
 at any rate. To put him out of the way, as had 
 been attempted against Hinango, would be ill 
 advised, especially as the family relations of the 
 baroo to his uncle impeded bim, ia so fax as 
 
 sooner or later a suspicion might fall npon him. 
 Tlie baron had another plan, whirli appeared 
 less dangerous to him, and whii'li proceeded al- 
 most entirely of itself from the events around him. 
 
 He betook himself to the police functionary, 
 with whom he was in communication in his pe- 
 culiar position as secret agent of tlie Brazilian 
 government, and again conversed with them 
 upon the hitherto fruitless researches for the dis- 
 covery of the abortive attempt at murder against 
 Mr. Closting. 
 
 " We have hitherto not developed the slightest 
 trace." declared the functionary, in the course 
 of conversation. " Circumstances so singularly 
 favored the flight of the negro, that it seems an 
 impossibility even to take up a single thread of 
 the investigation. It was pitch dark, the rain 
 poured in torrents, the negro threw himself into 
 the bay, and such a fellow will swim for a 
 couple of hundred feet under the water like a 
 dolphin — and then pop up and swim on, and 
 creep up, God knows where, on the shore, and 
 go quietly home. The dagger also lies in the 
 bay, and if we had it, it would do us little good." 
 
 " To be sure, the circtimstances were very fa- 
 vorable, but, notwithstanding this, what would 
 you say, if I had made the discovery of who 
 engaged the negro ?" 
 
 " It would be another evidence of your dis- 
 tinguished talent in the service of the state, and 
 the discovery would do you honor." 
 
 " Proinise me, then, that the criminal shall not 
 be arrested until I designate the day and hour to 
 you, and I will engage that the guilty person 
 shall not escape us before that." 
 
 " I promise you. Monsieur le Baron ; I give 
 you my word thereupon." 
 
 " Well, and I will keep my word as you do 
 yours." 
 
 " A police agent," continued the functionary, 
 " who was on service that evening on the stairs, 
 expressed, to be sure, immediately the next 
 morning, a vague surmise, since he believed 
 that the act had its origin in an " affair d'a- 
 mour," that a young Englishman " 
 
 " I understand you, and must not and cannot 
 at present say another word about it. You know 
 my future family connexions here — my whole 
 situation. You know my zeal in my correspond- 
 ence with the interior. You know how many 
 faroupilhas are here lodged in Do-Vilganhon, 
 who have found their quarters there through 
 me ; and you know also my private relations to 
 Mr. Closting, who took my place in the interior 
 of the country, because it is impossible for me 
 to be in two or six places at the same time. 
 You know the most remote thread of the police 
 association whose web is conducted by me, and 
 that is enough for you. 
 
 " Where church and state come in account, 
 and are even placed in danger, all personal con- 
 siderations cease ; and all family bonds loosen of 
 themselves, where church and state require it 
 for their maintenance." 
 
 " I am perfectly of your opinion. Monsieur le 
 Baron, and thank you again lor your zeal in the 
 affairs of our government, which will be grate- 
 ful to you for it." 
 
 " I hope so, Seuhor ; and now farewell ; the 
 matter is settled. I undertake the arrest of tho 
 originator of this scandalous plan for murder • 
 and so it's settled."
 
 333 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 •* Yiiii may rommand me, vvlien you require a 
 rirfachment of pi-rmanentos to accomplish the 
 mTcjt." 
 
 " All ri'jhf ! adieu !" whispered the baron, and 
 departed hastily, while the police functionary. 
 Chef lie Bureau of a private branch, sank into 
 reflection, in acknowledi;cmtint and admiration of 
 a talent such as the Baron de Spandau evinced. 
 
 6 /N#./*^.rf^« — 
 
 Ct! AFTER VI. 
 heligious ceremony. 
 
 Mr. Thomson freighted an Ensjlish bris;, 
 the " Eride of Abydos," for Santa Catharina, 
 and further for Buenos Ayres, since the vessel, 
 as it often occurs, was to exchange her carg.T 
 in the former port, before it sailed for its proper 
 place of destination. 
 
 Dolores lived, as hitherto, in her country re- 
 tirement, engaged in literary occupations, in the 
 preparation of all her productions, in verse and 
 prose, fur an edition, which she would willingly 
 nave issued in Rio de Janeiro, if her incognito 
 had permitted lier to do so in person. 
 
 It was a natural consequence, that any un- 
 dertaking of the sort (even under the protection 
 of the freedom of the press) would draw the 
 observation of the authorities upon the poetess, 
 and disturb her asylum — who, on the othci' side, 
 stood just as strictly under the protection of the 
 laws, which offered an asylum and personal safety 
 to all political fugitives. 
 
 Tile " liberal institutions " of a constitutional 
 monarchy stand, however, for the most part, in 
 opposition to monarchical governments, which 
 make a show of them, in order more efiectually 
 t.o suppress the germ of liberal principles. Con- 
 stitutional monarchy, as a transition epoch in 
 the history of many states from an absolute 
 monarchy to a republic, serves, as it were, only 
 as an evidence tliat this monarchical principle 
 (founded on the prerogative of birth) contra- 
 dicts nature and reason; since every man, 
 through his birth, equally partakes of the right 
 of cultivating his moral freedom in the element 
 of political freedom, and a violation of equality 
 is an indirect violation of freedom. Constitu- 
 tional monarchy (as the attempt at an alliance 
 between the principle of selfishness and civic 
 virtue) hears in itself the worm of self-destruc- 
 tion, for by denun-alization alone can it nourish 
 the egotism which, publicly or in secret, sells 
 itself for any service. A system which cannot 
 maintain its existence without the dissolution of 
 all morality, in the position of its servants, to 
 which ven.dity of conscience leads them, bears 
 within itself the death against which it seeks to 
 protect itself through treachery and murder. 
 
 Dolores entertained no suspicion against Mr. 
 Thomson, and even although she had long ago 
 learnt, through Dr. Tliorfin, Ihe fixed idea of the 
 old widower, the realization of which was to 
 lead her to the altar; still the matrimonial plan 
 appeared more to her as a comic episode in her 
 exile, more as entertaining material for laughter, 
 than a matter that would ever occur to her to 
 contemplate in a serious point of view. 
 
 Mr. Thomson went !n to see Robert tliat pvpn- 
 ing, and came out with his inquiry in relation 
 to his steps towards a union with Senhora Gra- 
 cia. The youth, already pale in consequence of 
 his long illness, became suddenly colorless as 
 the white craVat of his old uncle, and raised him- 
 self in his armchair to give a decided answer : 
 
 " My dear uncle, you mistake my relations to 
 a lady whom I love. Your demand compels me 
 to give you this explanation. But exactly be- 
 cause I love Senhora Gracia as I love her, my 
 sentiments require the devotion on my side 
 which make my self-denial necessary. Whether 
 this lady loves me, in the sense that you sup- 
 pose, I ought not, as a man, to give you any inti- 
 mation, even if I myself were aware of it. But 
 whether she would ever resolve to rend a social 
 bond, which, founded in the past of her life, 
 would extend itself by a living memorial as a 
 gloomy sliadow over her future ; whether .Sen- 
 hora Gracia would ever separate from her hus- 
 band, I doubt; and this doubt is a sacred 
 ground on my side, never, never to offer such 
 a proposal to her. Such a step, in such cir- 
 cumstances, is for the woman, and not for the 
 man, in my position." 
 
 Mr. Thomson appeared in the highest degree 
 struck by this confession of his nephew, which 
 showed him in a light that, as it v\'ere, displayed 
 his heart and his character in a magical gran- 
 deur. 
 
 " I understand you Bob," replied he, after a 
 long pause, with a hearty pressure of his hand, 
 " and I must also admire you. I had hoped in 
 this plan, which I once intimated to you, to 
 have laid the corner stone of your future hap- 
 piness, and of the health and welfare of your 
 Unfortunate friend, but 1 perceive that I was in 
 error. Forgive me, if my worldly views have 
 not accorded with your feelings, or with your 
 conscience. I always meant well by you, and 
 even now I am still your warmest friend. A3 
 to what concerns your relations to this young 
 lady, however, you are my nephew, and as an 
 uncle 1 must give you my views. Let the rela- 
 tion be what it may, it is no concern of mine. 
 She is, however, still a woman, and only two 
 cases are conceivable. Either she loves you — 
 has confessed her love to yon, and from the hour 
 of her declaration, already pliysically parted 
 from her husband, as your love demands, or she 
 has confessed her love to you in " mysterical 
 convulsions," and still continues to live with 
 her husband, with or without " mysterical con- 
 vulsions." All other cases, let them be masked 
 as they may, and call them what they will, are 
 humbug! humbug, my dear Bob! female hum- 
 bug ! and Mr. George Thomson thinks too much 
 of his nephew to see him allow him.self to be 
 led by the nose, or ill treated by a woman who 
 has once been satisfied with a mean fellow. No, 
 Bob ! you can transact business in the Kua Direita 
 with whom you will, but to enter into ])artner- 
 ship with a good for nothing fellow, in the pos- 
 session of a female heart — for that you are too 
 good ; for you are my nephew, and 1 am your 
 friend^ — your warmest friend, your uncle, George 
 Thomson." 
 
 " I am convinced of your sympathy," sighed 
 Robert, evidently struck with this language of ex- 
 perience, " and hope to justify myself towards 
 you in every situation in life — even in dealli."
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 m 
 
 " Yoia know, Bob," continued the man of ex- 
 perience, " you know I have hitherto not had 
 the least objection to your relations, in so far as 
 I took it for ({ranted, that the young lady had 
 separated as a wife from her husband, from the 
 moment when she confessed her love to you, or 
 gave you her word, or whatever else may have 
 taken place between you. That you appeared 
 to doubt whether she still lives with her hus- 
 band, surprises me, for you are my nephew, and 
 T do not desire that a woman should consider 
 you as — heaven knows what ! I know woman- 
 kind; I have had four of them, and hope soon 
 to have a fifth !" 
 
 Robert could hardly restrain a smile. The old 
 man continued gaily : " I have experience in 
 this business. Bob ! experience in matrimony, 
 and could write a book about it of four thick 
 volumes. I have lived to see a similar instance. 
 Bob ! One of my wives suddenly became ner- 
 vous, grew thin, lost her corpulence, and even 
 confessed to me that she had never loved me, 
 and doubted if I had ever loved her. There was 
 an end of our union. She passed as my wife — 
 before the world, but we lived separate, as fol- 
 lows of course, for the ' No ' of a woman must be 
 as sacred to every man of honor as once her ' Yes.' 
 But all these are convulsive phenomena — ner- 
 vous disease — chills of the heart— fixed ideas of 
 the brain — female spleen ! and no physician has 
 found remedies as yet against such a love ca- 
 tarrh. Believe me, I speak from unhappy ex- 
 perience." 
 
 " But I am morally satisfied that she does not 
 love her husband, and that she may act from 
 compulsion," replied Robert. 
 
 " Poor, poor Robert ! you have not had my 
 experience of the strength of woman's will ; 
 you make me sad ;" sighed the good old man, 
 sinking into silent contemplation. " I can now 
 explain to myself how you stand — now for the 
 first time, and may God forgive me that I ever 
 brought you to this pavilion ! I have experience 
 — experience — but such a case I could never 
 have imagined. 
 
 "I know men who live separate from their 
 wives, wliile they pass before the world for 
 married people ; but each of these men respects 
 the woman and iiimself, and I need say no more. 
 Such instances of female nervous disturbance, 
 of repulsion, as the physicians call it, are not 
 rare, and I should like to be acquainted with 
 this Mr. Closting; he must be the meanest fel- 
 low on God's earth, and capable of every crime, 
 or the young lady must be the most " 
 
 " Pronounce no sentence against my friend !" 
 interrupted the unhappy young man quickly, 
 and deeply moved ; " for the hour in which I 
 
 must become convinced that that she does 
 
 not love me, will be my last." 
 
 " Bah ! bah ! don't talk in that way ; remem- 
 ber always tliat you have to do with a woman. 
 You will go with us, then, to Santa Catharina .' — 
 the voyage will do you good," said the old man 
 hastily, to lead the invalid from the subject. 
 
 " To do with a woman," repeated Robert, half 
 aside, " may the just God forbid that I should 
 ever lose the sacred reverence for woman which 
 I entertain, which attaches me to my friend. 
 She has injured me — wounded me for ever; she 
 may destroy me ; but I will, even in death, love 
 the soul, which here struggles within her as a 
 43 
 
 woman, in eternal contradiction with tho 
 
 wife !" 
 
 " I will accompany Dolores, as I have once 
 promised her in my heart," he then said aloud ; 
 " 1 will not leave Dolores, so long as she has 
 not found a safe asylum." 
 
 " That is noble of you — noble and excellent, 
 Bob. We will settle ourselves upon Santa Cath- 
 arina, either on the island or the main land, 
 wherever we find the most beautiful situation, 
 and the baron will build himself a house near 
 ours." 
 
 Robert involuntarily made a movement in hia 
 armchair, as if a physical pain seized him, 
 which occasioned him to alter his position ; he 
 sighed deeply, and at length resumed the con- 
 versation. 
 
 " You have then consented to Aunt Susan's 
 marriage with the so called baron ?" 
 
 " So called baron ?" inquired iVIr. Thomson, 
 smiling ; " how so .' do you doubt if he is really 
 a baron .'" 
 
 " I not only doubt his barony, but I know po- 
 sitively that he is a spy of several European 
 powers, and likewise serves some of the govern- 
 ments of South America as a spy. I know him 
 in every respect, in his entire reprobateness, 
 and will not, now nor ever, permit him to enter 
 our family." 
 
 " Good bye, my dear Bob ! Dr. Thorfin has 
 forbidden you to talk much, or to be excited ; it 
 may delay your secovery, and cause a relapse. 
 Good bye, then, my dear Bob ! As concerns the 
 baron, ive will talk of that in Santa Catharina. 
 You have now a high fever, my poor boy ! take 
 good care of yourself, that you may be able to 
 go with us, for I cannot leave you here ill. You 
 must accompany us, by all means." 
 
 " I feel that 1 must go with you," sighed Ro- 
 bert, in another signification than his uncle in- 
 tended, who again heartily pressed his hand, 
 and departed in haste. 
 
 The baron had dismissed Sally, as he was 
 preparing himself for the voyage to Santa 
 Catharina, and passed his nights during the 
 short intervening time here and there, in other 
 occupations, while he still retained the house 
 as a temporary locality for his consultations with 
 Senhor Prole, and other agents in his employ. 
 
 Sally ventured a second visit to Senhora Sera- 
 fini, to present her thanks for the nol)lcminded 
 ofiiir with lespect to a situation upon her estate. 
 She explained that her presence in Brazil was 
 constantly attended with danger, as accident 
 might reveal her cooperation for the rescue of 
 Dolores and Hinango, and she would then un- 
 doubtedly be exposed to the baron's revenge. 
 The lady acknowledged the consistency of these 
 grounds, and assented therefore to the unfortu- 
 nate girl's design of returning to England. She 
 renevvedly offered to consult with Dr. Thorfin in 
 what manner a passage was to be procured for 
 her, as the attendant of a respectable family, 
 and asked of Sally her address, that the doctor 
 might know where to find her. The noble con- 
 duct of this unfortunate girl, which stood out 
 in such natural purity from the background of 
 the demoralization of our epoch, was recognised 
 in its full value by the person for whose rescue 
 it had availed. 
 
 Earnestly as Hinango had always desired to
 
 S38 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 express personally his inextinguishable grati- 
 t\ide, yet the existing circumstances in them- 
 selves, prevented the occurrence of a meeting, 
 which was in otlier respects denied, by the deli- 
 cate feelings of the noble girl. The position as 
 an outcast from the social world, would not per- 
 mit her to make the slightest allusion to her per- 
 son or her fate in an interview with Hinango. 
 Notwithstanding this, she appeared satisfied, by 
 anticipation, that Hinango, as well as Dolores, 
 was able to distinguish the disinterested devotion 
 un her part, from the world's prejudice and unlov- 
 ing sentence of condemnation, which broke the 
 statfover errors produced as natural effects from 
 the contradiction of its own social regulations. 
 
 It so hapjiened that Dr. Thorfin was in com- 
 munication with a family from Northern Europe, 
 who were preparing to return thither. He 
 availed himself of the mutual confidence which 
 prevailed between himself and the lady of this 
 house, to describe, so far as his prudence per- 
 mitted, the noble conduct of the unfortunate girl 
 in its purity and devotion, in order to commend 
 her to her sympathy. The lady agreed, there- 
 fore, to take her as a companion, and to leave it 
 to her whole conduct during the voyage, whether 
 she should further enjoy her sympathy, which in 
 such a case would be perpetually secured to her. 
 
 Sally yielded, witli all submission, to these 
 stipulations, and felt only too deeply that such a I 
 doubt in her morality was certainly founded on 
 her position ; in compensation for which, her 
 self-conciousness confirmed her in the idea, that 
 neither she nor many other females would vol- 
 untarily; and of their own impulse, have sfepped 
 outside the boundaries of the social world, if 
 they had not been seduced out of them by men. 
 
 The baron had been for the last week in full 
 occupation, and had, of course, scarcely had an 
 hour to talli with and caress his bride. 
 
 Miss Susan Thomson appeared not to be unac- 
 quainted with tlie proverb, according to which 
 •* certainty should be preferred to uncertainty,'' 
 and once, in a confidential hour, made the pro- 
 posal to her lover to celebrate the ecclesiastical 
 ceremony of marriage before their embarkation. 
 She produced, one after another, her important 
 and very reasonable grounds. One of these 
 grounds was, that the good which a man ought 
 to do could never be done too soon, and as mar- 
 riage was not only something good, but, accord- 
 ing to her view, the best that both of them were 
 able to do for the present, this was one rea- 
 sonable ground for completing the ceremony. 
 Another ground was, tliat they were going to 
 Santa Catharina in a merchant vessel, and not 
 in a proper packet ship or steamer. There was 
 generally, on board of such a vessel, a deficiency 
 of room in the cabin, and particular divisions 
 for single young ladies and single gentlemen 
 were alwaj's attended with difficulties. The 
 thoughts of separating herself, even only for a 
 moment, from her lover, she observed, would be 
 terrible to her, and all sorts of consequent disa- 
 greeable occurrences through seasickness, and 
 storm, and the like, might make his presence in 
 her private cabin absolutely necessary. That in 
 such a case it must, on both sides, be of great 
 importance to be united with each other by law- 
 ful bonds, which dissolve all constraint, and all 
 the restrictions that separate a young man from 
 
 a seasick or not seasick young lady It was to 
 be hoped that the baron would see this for him- 
 self. Miss Thomson observed. The third good 
 ground was, that tlie ** Bride of Abydos (which 
 God forbid !) might sufl(>r shipwreck before she 
 arrived at Santa Catharina, (which might God 
 forbid tenfold !) that in such a case, one or the 
 other of them might become the victim of a 
 tragical fate, and then it must certainly be as 
 hard for him as for her, that they had lived for 
 months in a happy courtship, and had deliyed 
 so long the performance of the various ceremo- 
 nies which must then be too late, if only one of 
 the pair, ir if both, should have found their 
 grave in the waves — or if singular occurrences 
 should have separated them. Miss Susan had 
 properly ten grounds more, all of which she re- 
 vealed to her bridegroom, who did not reject a 
 single one, but determined upon the marriage, 
 as he and she desired. 
 
 On a fine Sunday, in the month of March, the 
 ceremony of coupling was performed by an Eng- 
 lish clergyman, and then a second by a Catholic 
 clergyman, since the baron, as is known, was a 
 Catholic, and attached a great importance to re- 
 ligion. 
 
 With what feelings the young Baroness of 
 Spandau seated herself in the carriage, as she 
 left the English church after the conclusion of 
 the marriage ceremony, we leave to the per- 
 ception of all young ladies of her age, (or some 
 years younger,) who have been betrothed to a 
 baron, and have ever gone from a church home, 
 or to another church, to be doubly married. 
 
 The Convent of the " Sisters of Mercy," which 
 happened to be opposite to the English church, 
 presented at that moment to the young baroness 
 a singular aspect, since she could not avoid the 
 silent reflection, what a tragical fate it must be 
 to live on as a " Sister of Mercy " in a convent ; 
 or, as a sister among " unmerciful men," to live 
 any where in the world, especially to pass a vir- 
 gin life, without having used a single myrtle 
 wreath, in a country like Brazil, where myrtle 
 grows hy the wayside like thistles and nettles. 
 
 The ceremony of the Catholic ritual took place 
 immediately after the Anglican marriage, in the 
 court chapel in the Rua Direita, and was very 
 briefly concluded. His Excellency the Ambas- 
 sador of Knipiiausen was invited as witness on 
 the part of the baron, but, to the regret of all, he 
 had been ill for some days, and was obliged to 
 renounce the honor. There were, however, 
 more than enough of highly respectable wit- 
 nesses, among the highly respectable friends and 
 acciuaintances of the baron, and there were not 
 wanting, likewise, two Engli:ih ladies, who 
 piipied themselves upon their high rank, to ac- 
 company a Miss Thomson into the church, for 
 the purpose of conducting her, as a lawful Ba- 
 roness de Spandau, out of the church. 
 
 On their drive back to Bota Fogo, the young 
 married pjir visited the convalescent Mr. Robert 
 Walker, to receive his congratulations. The 
 shock that seized him when he learned the oc- 
 casion of this visit, was very naturally to be as- 
 cribed to the excited state of his nerves, and to 
 no other cause. 
 
 They found him improving in health, and left 
 him in all haste, with the wish, that he might 
 not relapse before the depar'.ure of the " Bride 
 of Abydos."
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 33» 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE TWO CORPSES. 
 
 Thk nays hastened on, and f'ne fifTeenth of 
 March drew nearer and nearer. The ** Bride of 
 Abydos " had taken in her carg-n, and was pre- 
 pared to weitjh anchor, so soon as Mr. Thomson 
 and his family had taken possession of the cabin. 
 
 Mr. Closling's state had manifested very bad 
 symptoms, and instead of his expected speedy 
 recovery, his life was more than ever in danger. 
 Dr. Thorfin required a consultation nf several 
 physicians, since thecase was important in itself, 
 and the entire treatment might be subjected to a 
 jvidicial investigation, so soon as the researches 
 of justice succeeded iu coming upon the traces of 
 the murderer. 
 
 Senhora Gracia was thrown, by the increased 
 danger of her husband, and the approaching de- 
 parture of Robert, into a state ot^ mind which 
 we can so much the less describe, as she con- 
 fined within herself every emotion, and less than 
 ever before opened to her friend the heart that 
 was broken forever 
 
 Robert begged his friend to give him some 
 lines in his album, as he was now preparing 
 himself for a separation. He found, one day, 
 the following, written with a tremulous hand 
 upon the last leaf of the splendidly bound book, 
 which he had given her for such a purpose : 
 
 " Le cceur de i'homrae est un aljime de souf- 
 france, dont la profondeur n'a jamais <te sendee 
 el ne le sera jamais.* — g." 
 
 Those live months which Senhora Graciahad 
 spent in confidentiai intimacy with her friend, 
 now lay before her as past, like a lovely dream, 
 over whose texture, however, many future 
 images of terror were woven, whose impres- 
 sions now fixed themselves u|jon her heart like 
 Ibreliodings, with heavy anxiety. She often ob- 
 served Robert, while he was occupied with the 
 insignificant arrangements for his departure, 
 without approaching him, as if his appearance 
 were not a reality, as if she must touch him with 
 her hand to satisfy herself that he was a living 
 man — the real Robert. She saw him occupied, 
 and going in and out, to arrange one thing and 
 another for his departure, and by degrees single 
 objects were taken out from the pavilion, which 
 appeared to her as " frames around the pictures 
 of the past," or as background or attribute ofhis 
 image, inwoven with his entity. The parting 
 from such insignificant trifles gave her a pre- 
 sentiment of the moment in which he himself 
 should, for the last time, pass through the 
 garden, and the gate should rattle behind him. 
 
 The increasing danger in which her husband 
 lay from his wound, increased the perplexity 
 and conv\ilsive contradictions which oppressed 
 her heart. Sunk in abstraction, she sat for 
 hours beside the sick or dying bed of her hus- 
 band, gazing with a fixed glance into the abyss 
 of her future, and came to her recollection with 
 a repressed cry of anguish, when the name 
 " mother" casually sounded in her ears from the 
 mouth of the dear little one. 
 
 Who will venture to penetrate into Gracia's 
 feelings, when the consciousness of a social con- 
 nexion through a third being thrilled her with 
 
 ' Qeorg« SaQ<t 
 
 horror ; and she was then obllgetl to admit to 
 herself that this union had been formed without 
 sympathy, and that the realization of the idea of 
 unity with a man who was always strange to 
 her, bloomed forth as an itobodied contradic- 
 tion — in their child ! 
 
 If we contemplate the state of mind and the 
 s!)fTerings nf the unfortunate woman from the 
 p<iini of view nf the higher psychology, we be- 
 hold the thousand-fold reiterated so called social 
 aberratittns, over which the world breaks the 
 stall", without examining the ground of the evil. 
 Gracia's crime lay in that thoughtless and char- 
 acterless over-haste with which slie had once 
 entered into, a social bond whose sacred sig- 
 nificance seems to have been unknown to her, 
 or whose eventful importance she controverted 
 by syllogisms — that she might be " independent." 
 She appears never to have considered that she 
 only obtained the apparent independence at the 
 cost of her purity. 
 
 In this crime against nature, and in this contra- 
 diction in themselves, are founded the social 
 crimes and ail the inward contradictions which 
 thousands of unfortunate wives in our civilized 
 world commit, and against which they vainly en- 
 deavor to struggle. 
 
 Gracia's awakening to love, her relation to 
 Robert, was evidently the natural phenomenon 
 in the province of the soul-attraction of the ani- 
 matic sphere, which Dr. Garringos has sufli- 
 ciently described. It was the awakening of love 
 in its longing after love, as a natural consequence 
 of her existence. Her wretchedness lay in a 
 failure of decision for the realization of this de- 
 mand, w^ith reference to the social regulations to 
 which she had thoughtlessly or " reasonably" 
 become subjected in earlier youth. Her pardon- 
 able indicision effected the inward disturbance 
 of a noble man, who, fettered to her in animatic 
 rapport, was with her made a prey to despair. 
 Gracia's confession of her love — her oath, by 
 which she bound Robert to herself *' for eter- 
 nity" — resembled the effusion or communication 
 of a somnambulist in the province of the mag- 
 netic dream-world, in rigid opposition to the 
 profane reality. Returning from this magnetic 
 dream-world to everyday life, she felt herself fet- 
 tered like a slave — as it were chained to a soul- 
 less corpse, whose meanness and whose moral 
 annihilation, she was in duty bound to partake of, 
 according to the lav;s of the state and the church. 
 But neither church nor state had ever inquired 
 whether this union was originally grounded 
 upon reciprocal morality. 
 
 Just as rigidly as the domain of the inward 
 life in the sphere of magnetism stands opposed 
 to the outward profane life of the corp(n'eal 
 world, appeared to the unfortunate woman now, 
 also, her love to Robert. Her heart, so soon as 
 she became conscious of her position in love to 
 Robert, (tiie sustaining of her inward life,) de- 
 manded separation — the fulfilment of her oath, 
 holy faith to the heart which she had recognised 
 
 and wounded by her love . So called social 
 
 duty, on the other hand, required degradation 
 of herself for the fulfilment of an unnatural ser- 
 vice — endurance and excuse of all the aberra- 
 tions and crimes of the man whose property she 
 was — a merging of her own individuality in the 
 meanness of a foreign nature — mortification of 
 her inward life — moral death.
 
 340 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 During the last days, Robert remained in the 
 city as before his illness, and returned, as in 
 foregoing times, when the sun was near going 
 down. Gracia felt herself drawn by an irresist- 
 ible impulse to hurry to his pavilion, and then, 
 with the little one in her hand, to inquire 
 whether one thing or another for his departure 
 was to be )irnvided for, which she or her ser- 
 vants migiit [ erform. There were moments in 
 which, notwithstanding such inquiries, she 
 could not htelieve that this friend was now about 
 to leave her, that she was to remain alone by the 
 death-bed of her husband. 
 
 Robert observed, according to the demands of 
 his heart, all the outward forms of the most 
 intimate friendship towards the sufferer, whose 
 awakening in love had aroused his inward life, 
 and whose internal convulsions and cramps had 
 destroyed the peace of his sou!. 
 
 From the above point of view we beho?d Rob- 
 ert's mind laid waste, since the diseasing of his 
 animatic (nerve) life, as a reaction of the con- 
 victions of his beloved, remained incurable so 
 long as she was not able, in the consciousness of 
 her moral freedom as a woman, to rescue her- 
 self from the bonds of physical degradation. 
 
 As we behold in Gracia the woman, with her 
 claims upon a certain prerogative of her femi- 
 nality, in the abyss of despair, drawing dagger 
 upon dagger of jealousy and contradicti-m against 
 Robert — so in Robert appears to us the man, vio- 
 lated in the sanctuary of his higher self-con- 
 sciousness — his honor. In this feeling of the 
 love which "endures and siiffers all things," 
 Robert bore, as we knew long ago, all the out- 
 bi'eaks and convulsive ebullitions of these abso- 
 lute contradictions — and was silent. No re- 
 proach, no bitter reply to such taunts passed his 
 lips. He had (as We mentioned at the time) 
 recognised the entity of his beloved in its original 
 purity — and separated (as we likewise know) 
 external influences from inward worth — tem- 
 perament from character. 
 
 But Gracia's parallel between him and the 
 raan into whose arms she had even thrown her- 
 self, when the strui;gle and convulsion of her 
 soul had shown her all the appearances of the 
 outward world in the distorted mirror of her 
 passion, violated Robert's hoiK>r as a man, and 
 shook his faith in the female heart. 
 
 Logically impossible as it must always remain 
 to find ** sense in nonsense," just as impossible 
 must it be, to explain the behavior of a woman 
 in such cases. — Gracia's convulsions more and 
 more disturbed by their reaction his animatic 
 life, and lighted all the appearances of the social 
 world around him, as it were with a clear ani- 
 matic light. Thisglow of light from the inward 
 life, turned upon the reality, resembled the gas 
 light of a solar microsN:ope, which reveals the 
 animalculae of a drop of water as hideous mon- 
 sters — that pursue and devour each other, like a 
 eymbol of the eternal struggle in the mysterious 
 essence of nature. 
 
 If love, as a religions principle, is to be sus- 
 tained in the sacrament of the church as a social 
 b-jnd, then at least the social bond roust be 
 founded upon love. If the latter be not the 
 case, then the sacrament becomes abused, un- 
 hallowed, desecrated. Where no bond of the 
 soul exists, none can be violated or broken ; the 
 crime, however, in such a case, lies in the de- 
 
 gradation of human natore ; ft is a deseffirsficB 
 of the sanctuary of generation, " a sin against 
 the holy spirit of love." 
 
 Love can only exist as sympathy in similar 
 developments of the inward life. Gracia had 
 never loved her husband. Instead of consan- 
 guinity of being, there existed opposition of the 
 two natures— antipathy. 
 
 Robert had once received this oath, " for 
 eternity," in the higher (r»atal) sphere of the 
 soul's life, and as such, its sacred sianificatioii 
 had penetrated him. Doubt in the validity of 
 the oath, would have led him to doubt in the 
 soul's life itself— to doubt in God. Robert be- 
 lieved, because he loved. 
 
 In opposition to him, we behold the nnfortu- 
 nate woman awakened to love, without belief in 
 love, led to that contradiction in herself which 
 excuses by all unworthy conduct of the heads 
 of families, and judges the beam in the eyes of 
 men who have never cheated or betrayed a 
 woman, and never t'or a mean object degraded 
 themselves by alluring a lovely vfoman into 
 matrimony. 
 
 If Gracia had believed in love, she would 
 never, never for a m-jmeni, have doubted in 
 Robert's love, nor in himself. We behold in 
 Gracia one of tjie noblest beings who ever pro» 
 ceeded from the workshop of creation, inwardly 
 destroyed and wasted by an unnatural connex" 
 ion. Having become diseased in swh a situa- 
 tion, as a natnral effect of cirCDaostaoaes, she 
 met with Robert. 
 
 We now look back to Dr. Thorfin's apparent- 
 ly singular intimation, that a woman in Madame 
 Closting's position would do well to part from 
 her hosband, before she had, led by spiritual 
 attraction, endangered the inward life of a gnilt- 
 less man, and perhaps committed an indirect 
 murder, even if it were not a physical one. 
 
 Even though our system concerning.sympalhy 
 and antipathy, and our hypothesis concerning 
 repulsion and attraction, should be honored by 
 similar opposition like Mesmerism, (npnn which 
 both rest,) still the pcsition and the fate of a 
 woman like Senhora Gracia, is repeated a thou- 
 sand-fold in ail countries of the civilized world. 
 Gracia's lot may call in question the sense of 
 honor in both sexes, where it exists. And 
 where no sense of honor exists, the principle of 
 humanity will also be wanting, which this rela- 
 tion calls fm-. 
 
 No formal bond cf the church can consecrate 
 a connexion which (let it exist on whatever 
 grounds it may) has been formed without love. 
 The crimes against nature, which in thousand- 
 fold reiteration proceeds from such unions, are 
 those secret sins whose natural effects descend 
 " to the third and fourth generation," 
 
 It was on the evening before the embarkation, 
 when Gracia entered the desolate apartment, 
 from which even the writing-desk had disap- 
 peared from the window at which she had so often 
 silently conteniplated Robert, and even occasion- 
 ally tickled him on the cheek from a distanct! 
 with a long spear ot grass, to frighten him. 
 
 The thermomettT was likewise already packed 
 up, and the pictures of Byron and Walter Scott 
 which decorated the apartateat, had vaaisbcd 
 from the wall.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 341 
 
 Robert went over for a moment into Mr. Clos- 
 ting's pavilion, to take a temporary leave of him 
 in case he might be asleep at a later hour. 
 Gracia remained alone with the little one upon 
 Robert's divan. He found the patient, as ever, in 
 wild delirium, in which the murder ttf the 
 grimpeiro tormented him, which the wife natu- 
 fally considered as the image of a feverish fancy, 
 severely as the eternal repetition of the same 
 fancy always shocked the poor woman beside 
 his couch. 
 
 The wounded man lay on a " camp bed " in 
 the middle of his apartment ; a negro .sat by him 
 as watcher. Robert greeted him, and inquired 
 after his health, but he was far away in his de- 
 lirium, and stared around with the expressii>n 
 of a lunatic. Like so many Europeans, who in 
 foreign countries lay asi<le their own language, 
 and, even to their children, speak the language 
 of the nation in which they transact their busi- 
 ness, Mr. Ciosting also had, for years, a.5sumed 
 the Portuguese as the language of his thoughts. 
 
 ** Tak« away the two birds, there — the two 
 sympathy birds !" he muttered to himself "I 
 shot one of them, and strangled the other — that 
 is all right ; but it must remain secret ; my wife 
 must not know it, for then she would never 
 come near me again. What ? not come near 
 me any more ? that would be sninething new ! 
 Is she not my wife .' my lawful wife .' is it not 
 her duty ? ought she to part from me ? out^ht 
 she to go away from me ? I have committed 
 murder, as you call it ! Take the l^vo birds away 
 I tell you ! I have shot the miserable grim- 
 peiro — Mr. Dujour ! Well, that was ail right ! 
 what did I do it for ? What for .' because I am 
 the father of a family — because I must make a 
 fortune for my family ! Take the two birds 
 away, I say ! Am I not the father of a family ? 
 have 1 not duties as the father of a family ? My 
 
 wife is young 1 have only three children ; but 
 
 one every year, and may have ten in ten years. 
 Take the tw»o birds away, or I shall die. And 
 must 1 not leave property behind ? and whether 
 I do or not, take the two birds away, fur 1 must 
 provide for my family ; and who does not know 
 what that means ? — to provide for a family that — 
 that take the two birds away ! Come Gra- 
 cia, come to me ! I have been away long enough ! 
 come and kiss me ! You resist ? stupid goose ! 
 the two birds will do nothing to you ! and that 
 
 — blood ! infamous mulack ! why do you 
 
 not bring me water to wash my hands . 
 
 Gracia ! come I say ; do you not hear ? Gracia, 
 come, come ! you are as handsome as a sympathy 
 bird ! — thai is true ; beautiful ! you are beautiful ! 
 and — and " 
 
 The youth compelled himself to listen thus 
 far to this information of the wretched man, 
 and then withdrew. He went back to his pa- 
 vilion. It was to be perceived that his eyes had 
 been wet. He pressed the hand of his friend, 
 kissed the little one, and dried his eyes anew. 
 
 A singular noise was audible in the neigh- 
 borhood ; it sounded like the clang of weapons, 
 and the stamp of hoofs, and the footsteps of 
 armed men. 
 
 " Almighty God ! what is that ?" cried Gra- 
 cia, when the gate was opened. Several police 
 officers, with four ofTicers of the permanentos, 
 entered the garden, and beset the outlet with 
 guarrts. 
 
 " Compose yourself ! becalm! Dolores is be- 
 trayed !" whispered Robert in urgent haste ; 
 " they arrest me on her account, but to-morrow 
 I shall be free again ; I am an Englishman, and 
 our ambassador will know his duty." 
 
 During this time, the officers had approached 
 and entered the apartment. Gracia clasped her 
 child, as if she sought upon the wide earth one 
 point of support for her oppressed, fluttering 
 heart, which now hardly throbbed. Inexplicable 
 deathlike anxiety, and the most fearful fore- 
 bodings, agitated her. 
 
 Robert asked the officer whom they were seek- 
 ing, and what brought them there. 
 
 " Senhor Robert Walker from Buenos Ayres," 
 began an officer, producing a document. 
 
 " I am Senhor Robert Walker, from England," 
 replied lie, with a firm tone. 
 
 " Arrested in the name of justice, on account 
 of an attempt at murder upon the person of 
 Senhor Louis Ciosting." 
 
 " Great God !" shrieked Gracia, involuntarily 
 thrusting the child from her, as if only one 
 grief disturbed her soul. Terrified by the an- 
 guished cry of her mother, the little one wept 
 and held fast to her. 
 
 " Senhora!" cried Robert," Senhora, compose 
 yourself!" and a gleam of holy innocence passed 
 over his coimtenance. 
 
 " Almighty God !" cried the disconsolate one 
 again, gazing around her, as if in a dream, look- 
 ing t(jwards Robert, and then to heaven, and 
 wringing her hands in despair. 
 
 " I will follow you, gentlemen," began Ro- 
 bert, turning to the officer with all composure, 
 " only allow me a few moments to arrange my 
 effects." 
 
 " Take your own time," replied an officer. 
 
 " Senhora Gracia," said he then, seizing the 
 hand of his friend, and looking into her eye, 
 which hardly recognised what it saw; "Sen- 
 hora ! I ask you here, in the presence of these 
 witnesses, 1 ask you before God the omniscient, 
 do you hold me capable of the deed with which 
 they charge me, of which I am accused .'" 
 
 " No ! no ! never ! never !" shrieked !he un- 
 happy woman, and sank on Robert's breast, with- 
 out f'ear of beitig falsely understood by those 
 present. 
 
 The officers, touched by this scene, looked at 
 each other with a humane expression on their 
 petrified countenances. 
 
 " I repeat the question before the omniscient 
 God, at my farewell from you : Senhora Gracia, 
 do you consider me capable and guilty of the 
 deed .' I recognise your judgement as the judge- 
 ment of God !" 
 
 " No ! oh no ! Robert — Robert," sobbed she, 
 concealing her fice upon his breast. 
 
 " Tlien farewell ! farewell ! I thank you be- 
 fore God, and in the presence of these gentle- 
 men, for the sympathy and friendship, for the 
 goodness and gentleness, with which you have 
 kindly treated me as a stranger. God be with 
 you and witii me." 
 
 He kissed tile lady on her forehead as she lay 
 lifeless in his arms, and relinquished her to the 
 care of the officers, who apjpeared more and 
 more puzzled by all that they saw and heard. 
 They sent for the female attendants to employ 
 outward remedies as speedily as possible, to 
 restore the ladv to consciousness.
 
 342 
 
 DOLORES 
 
 " Then I ran go before my jud^e," said Ro- 
 bert, and added, in a low voice, turning to tiie 
 officer, " I will go into the cabinet to dress my- 
 self, and write a few lines, to be delivered by 
 you to the Minister of Justice ; the door may 
 remain open." 
 
 The officers, almost deprived of their presence 
 of mind by the thrilling scene, occupied them- 
 selves, together with the negresses who had 
 hurried in, in arousing the unfortunate woman 
 from her swoon ; but her nerve life appeared 
 destroyed, and the connexion with the corporeal 
 world rent asunder. 
 
 obert went into his cabinet, an officer step- 
 ped to the threshold after him, and cimvinced 
 himself that there was no outlet there through 
 which the prisoner might possibly escape. He 
 remarked that the latter took up paper and lead 
 pencil, and some garments, and then returned 
 again to his comrades. The officer then again 
 cast a glance into the cabinet, saw Robert was 
 writing, and again left the door. 
 
 A sound like a sigh was audible in the cabinet, 
 and ceased. Some officers hurried to the thresh- 
 old — they found Robert's corpse .' He had pressed 
 a small poisoned dagger into his heart. Near 
 him lay a sheet of paper. One of the officers 
 hastily seized it, and read the following lines, 
 written with lead pencil : 
 
 " A man »ybo calls himself the Baron de 
 Spandau, a spy of monarchy, engaged a negro 
 to stab my friend Hinango, who has been con- 
 demned to death in Russia as a republican. The 
 negro mistook Senhor Closting for Hinango. I 
 am of course innocent, but I should have been 
 esteemed guilty, as appearances are against me, 
 and my accusers are powerful. The regulations 
 of the social world require a victim — I bring it 
 by my death. My heart is pure ; God knows 
 my sentiments and my sufl'erings ! 
 
 " Robert Waijceb." 
 
 " He is dead !" said the officer half aloud to 
 himself, as he touched the body, and put the 
 important paper in his pocket. 
 
 " He is dead! he has stabbed himself!" ex- 
 claimed one officer to another, who stood in the 
 garden. The sound of these words pierced the 
 ear of the hitherto insensible woman, and sud- 
 denly efiected her recovery. 
 
 " Dead ! who is dead ? is my husband dead?" 
 inquired she, gazing before her with an unsteady 
 glance, and groping around with her hand, as if 
 seeking some object on which to lay hold. 
 
 No one answered. 
 
 " Where am I .'" inquired she, with an ex- 
 pression of deadly alarm ; " I am in Robert's 
 room ! Where is Robert ? where is Robert ?" 
 
 " Roberto is dead !" sobbed the little one, | 
 clasping fast bold oq her mother, and weeping | 
 aloud. 
 
 " Just God !" exclaimed she, wrringing her 
 hands in inconsolable despair ; " dead ? — no 1 
 no ! 
 
 She raised herself, as if she was looking for 
 his body : " Where is Robert .' where is my 
 friend, the young Englishman — whom you ac- 
 cused of the murder .'" inquired she of the 
 surrounding officers. 
 
 " Dead !" sighed several, and were Unable to 
 add another word. 
 
 " Dead ," whispered the dying woman. 
 
 starinj before her lilce a corpse standing npright, 
 and sinking at the same instant back into her 
 chair, she said, in a broken voice: ** It was a 
 dresm — the dream has become reality." 
 
 She felt around her with tremulous hand, 
 seized her little daughter, and exerted her last 
 strength to press her to her heart ! 
 
 "Si other! mother!" screamed the little one ! 
 " mother !" 
 
 Hut the mother heard her no more — Gracia 
 was dead. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CO:»srDERATE WARNING. 
 
 WmtE this fearful scene was taking place on 
 the Gloria, a police officer, in a civil dress, made 
 his appearance at Mr. Thompson's country house 
 in Beta Fogo, where all was in a movement to 
 send the last trunks and boxes aboard the " Bride 
 ' of Abydos." 
 
 [ The otiicer inquired for Mr. George Thompson, 
 who made his appearance in a white spencer, 
 having been occupied in putting up, with his 
 own hands, and with great cure, some little boxes 
 of his " neice's" jewellery. 
 I " I regret that I am commissioned to disturb 
 you," began the functionary, " and must beg 
 I you to step aside with me a moment." 
 I " What can I do to serve yoa .'" inquired Mr. 
 Thomson, wiping his forehead, for he had se- 
 verely exerted himself. 
 
 " I corae in the name of the director of the 
 police, with his particular compliments to your- 
 self, Mr. Thomson." 
 
 " I thank the police director, what are his 
 commands ?" 
 
 " It has been long known to the police direc- 
 tor, that a young lady, Senora Dolores de * ' * ', 
 has lived in your family under an assumed name 
 as your niece. Miss Kanny Walker, or as Isabella 
 de Campana.and it must likewise be known to 
 you, that this young lady has been condemned 
 to death in Buenos .Ayres, on account of politi- 
 cal crimes against the government of the Ar- 
 gentine republic." 
 
 Mr. Thomson was evidently frightened. 
 
 The officer continued : '* The police director 
 has hitherto permitted this young lady to reside 
 in Bota Foso the more readily, as while she 
 lived in your house, in your family, and under 
 your responsibility, no political crime against 
 our government was to tie feared on her part." 
 
 Mr. Thomson seemed to wish to express his 
 particular thanks for such confidence, but could 
 not, however, find words in his anxiety, and re- 
 mained silent. 
 
 The police functionary continued: "Particu- 
 lar circumstances, especially inijuiries on the 
 part of the Argentine government, in regard to 
 the residence of the young lady, place the po- 
 lice director under the necessity of being 
 obliged to impart this intelligence to you the 
 most speedily possible, that he may not be un- 
 der the necessity of instituting a search in your 
 house, and arresting the lady on account of a 
 falsificatiou of her uame. The police diiectui
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 343 
 
 reqaests you, therefore, to assist the younp; lady 
 on board a vessel, Cor her protection, and from 
 personal consideration for ynu, Mr. Thomson, 
 that he may be able immediately to assure the 
 commissioned agent from Buenos Ayres, that the 
 younp lady docs not live in Rio de Janeiro, nor 
 anywhere in the environs." 
 
 Mr. Thomson heard this extremely anticipa- 
 tive and polite warning of the police function- 
 ary with loyal anxiety, on account of the trans- 
 gression of any law, a thought which was a 
 horror to iiim as an Englishman, and at length 
 listened to the advice for embarkation with the 
 highest satisfaction. 
 
 He overflowed with assurances of his thank- 
 fulness and gratitude towards the police direc- 
 tor, and the functionary who stood before him. 
 *' You know, perhaps, that I am just on the 
 point of going on board a vessel to sail for Santa 
 Catharina, and if you had come one hour later, 
 you would not have found either the young lady 
 or myself on shore. I beg you to communicate 
 this intelligence to the police director. In the 
 course of an hour, tlie young lady will be on 
 board of the brig, the " l?ride of Abydos," and 
 she will only remain in Santa Catharina until I 
 have freighted a vessel there, which shall take 
 us to England; of course the young lady will 
 not seek an asylum on Brazilian ground." 
 
 " Well, very well," replied the functionary ; 
 " I am commissioned to repeat, that you will 
 become subject here to an accusation on account 
 of a falsification of passports, if you do not im- 
 mediately avail yourself of this well meant 
 warning on our part." 
 
 " Accusation on account of falsification of 
 passports !" cried old Mr. Thomson, embracing 
 in this expression the entire signiScancy of 
 bnch an injury to his reputation and his English 
 respectability. I 
 " I should be glad, Senhor, if you ," re- 
 plied he, in evident embarrassment, " if you 
 would have the goodness personally to commu- 
 nicate this information to the young lady, as she 
 herself is condemned to death, and I, for my 
 part, am only her protector, and should be un- 
 willing that there should be any mi-stake 
 
 mistake in the person to be executed." 
 
 " I had the commission to speak to the lady 
 
 herself, but one does not willingly trouble ," 
 
 replied the polite functionary. 
 
 " Will you have the goodness to follow me ?" 
 said Mr. Thomson, hastening before the officer, 
 into the apartment of Dolores. 
 
 The officer saluted the young lady with Bra- 
 zilian politeness, and repeated to her, word for 
 word, what he had just said to Mr. Thomson. 
 
 Dolores appeared collected and prepared for 
 such a warning, and commissioned the function- 
 ary to convey her thanks to the director of po- 
 lice tor the consideration that he had hitherto 
 observed towaj'ds her, in permitting her to enjoy 
 the hospitality of the Thomson family. The 
 olTicer then withdrew. 
 
 Mr. Thomson had arranged for the embarka- 
 tion, by means of a shallop immediately in the 
 neighborhood of his country house. The elfects 
 were curied out, and Dolores entered t)ie shal.- 
 lop, attended by Corinna and old Achilles. 
 
 The Baroness de Spandau Ibund herself un- 
 der the necessity of crossing the bay to the 
 " Brido of Abydos," without the attendance of 
 
 her husband, as the latter was still occupied in 
 the city, and was to follow them directly from 
 the Hotel Faroux. 
 
 Mr. Thomson did not stir from the side of 
 Dolores. 
 
 " Will you not have the goodness to send 
 some one to Robert?" inquired she of her old 
 friend. " Robert will presently come to Bota 
 Fogo, and be di.sappointed at not finding the 
 shallop there. It will be better for us to send 
 him word that we have already gone aboard,aud 
 then he will take a boat at the Gloria." 
 
 Mr. Thonvson considered this message proper, 
 and in the highest degree necessary, and com- 
 missioned one of his negroes to deliver it. The 
 shallop put out from the shore, and steered 
 across to the fortress of Viiganhon, in the neigh- 
 borhood of the " Bride of Abydos." 
 
 Hardly were they all on board, when the 
 baron also made his appearance, bringing a mes- 
 sage from Robert to Mr. Thomson, whom he 
 called aside on the quarterdeck, to communicate 
 to him something of importance. Mr. Thomson 
 was very inquisitive, and gave his attention. 
 
 " I have just been with Robert, to bring him 
 off; he commissioned me to impart to you what 
 follows. In the moment of farewell from Sen- 
 hora Closting, the bond of sympathy which has 
 hitherto enchained them both, rendered the 
 parting of the lady from our Robert ' impossible,' 
 in brief, your plan, Mr. George, that the lady 
 should accompany our Robert, will be carried 
 out, but not to-day, nor to-morrow. Mr. Clos- 
 ting lies at his last gasp, given up by the phy- 
 sicians ; Robert remains with tlie lady until 
 her fate shall be decided; or if not, in case 
 Mr. Closting should be cured, she will go with 
 him wherever he may take her." 
 
 " Did I not say so ?" exclaimed the old 
 widower ; " did I not say so ? 1 know the women, 
 and I knew very well that she would not let 
 him go, that she would not part with him ; I 
 
 knew that! Now then, in Gods name ! He 
 
 was still weak, besides, and does well to remain 
 on the Gloria. But do you know what has hap- 
 pened to us, also .' Do you know the order about 
 Dolores ?" 
 
 " I know all ! all ! dear George !" replied the 
 scoundrel, " and more than you do ! And do you 
 know also," whispered he very low, " that you 
 havenoboby to thank but me for this warning.' 
 You know my position with the Minister of the 
 Interior, in regard to the purchase of the Signal 
 mountain there as British property ! 1 long ago 
 employed my acquaintance with the Minister to 
 obtain his protection for Dolores. But a requi- 
 sition has now probably been made for her deliv- 
 ery — to Buenos Ayre« ; and unhappily the gov- 
 ernment could do nothing more than to give you 
 and her the well meant hint to take yourselves 
 out i.^f the way." 
 
 " That was very noble indeed of the govern- 
 ment — and very noble on your part Mr. Brother- 
 in-law, very noble !" whispered Mr. Thomson. 
 
 " Can we get to sea, captain ?" inquired the 
 baron, abruptly breaking off. 
 
 " If ycHi expect nothing more from the city ; I 
 have been ready since noon; we have wind enough 
 to go o\it," cried the captain, with animation. 
 
 *' Then do not delay on our account," observed 
 the baron ; " is it not so, Mr. Thomson .' you ex- 
 pect nothing more from the city, do jou i"
 
 344 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 Mr. Thomson returned a negative answer, and 
 informed the captain that his nephew remained 
 on shore on account of indisposition. 
 
 The captain now ordered the anchor to be 
 weighed, and the noise brought Dolores on deck. 
 
 Tlie baron e.xplained to her Robert's pretended 
 commission — which he had just related to the 
 uncle. 
 
 " Then Robert is not coming .'" inquired she 
 with a.stonishment. 
 
 ** As I have just made free to explain to you, 
 he remains for the present with his lady, until 
 her late is decided. You already know, long 
 ago, the circumstances." 
 
 Dolores sank into profound and gloomy medi- 
 tation ; but hitherto no thought of suspicion had 
 been aroused with respect to her embarkation. 
 She thouj;ht of Robert. She had observed him 
 in his illness, she had seen through all his suf- 
 ferings, and now trembled for his life. After 
 the first painful forebodings awakened by this 
 intelligence, she thought of herself, of her own 
 lot, of her present situation ; again on board of a 
 strange vessel, alone, without Robert — without 
 Hinango — without Horatio or Alvarez ; alone, 
 confided to the protection of an old man, who, 
 although he certainly might be a very practical 
 business man, in moments of danger, such as 
 impended over the exile, might very easily 
 loose his presence of mind. She had long ago 
 been informed by Dr. Thorfin of the standing of 
 the baron ; as Robert, however, was to attend 
 her, the friends had not thought it proper to in- 
 timate to her the particulars of the danger that 
 threatened her. Robert's presence of mind was 
 to protect her, and Robert — was no more. 
 
 She inquired if no one had seen Dr. Thorfin ; 
 for even he had not made his appearance for a 
 farewell visit. 
 
 Mr. Thomson now said that he had met him 
 in the city, and that it had been his intention to 
 have accompanied them on board. He had, 
 however, been summoned to Signora Serafini at 
 Praya Grande, and could not decline the invita- 
 tion. 
 
 This information was consistent with the 
 truth, but Thorfin supposed that the brig would 
 not go to sea until the ne.xt morning, and intend- 
 ed to accompany his friend on board, and take 
 leave of Dolores there. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin returned from Praya Grande late 
 in the evening — hurried to the two pavilions, 
 and found the faithful Patrick beside the two 
 corpses, and the wounded Mr. Closting in the 
 delirium of death. 
 
 Patrick had appeared at the appointed hour, to 
 take the last efl'ects of Robert on board, and, in 
 spite of the baron, to go on board himself in the 
 dress of a livery servant of the young English- 
 man. 
 
 Patrick foamed and raved for some minutes 
 with fury. He explained in good English to the 
 police officers : Who had employed the negro 
 who had wounded the confidant of the spy, the 
 noble naturalist. But the functionaries under- 
 stood no English, and thought the red-haii-ed 
 Irishman intoxicated. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin hurried down into the city to Sen- 
 hor Moreto the relative of the unfortunate Gra- 
 cia, wlio had already learned the fearful intelli- 
 gence. The doctor begged the family to confide 
 
 the little daughter of the departed to Signora 
 Serafini, who, separated from her children, 
 would receive the poor little one witli maternal 
 tenderness, which was carried into effect the fol- 
 lowing day, and the dear little creature found a 
 second motlier. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin now relied upon a fortunate meet- 
 ing of the Mazzini and the Astrala before Santa 
 Catharina, for tiie reception of Dolores, and upon 
 her own presence of mind, as Robert, tlirough 
 the Satanic intrigues of the t>aron, had not ac- 
 companied her. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE executioner's OFFICE. 
 
 Eight days after the " Bride of Abydos" passed 
 the fortress of Santa Cruz and the Sugar Loaf, she 
 reached the two little islands of Gal and Alva- 
 redo, at the entrance of the safe harbor of the 
 island of Santa Catharina. 
 
 It was an admirable Brazilian morning. In 
 its picturesque splendor and magaificencc, lay 
 the coast of tlie main land, with its pointed moun- 
 tains, partly adorned with milk-white cloudy 
 crowns, which the ascending sun gradually 
 chased away. The wind was faint. The Baron 
 de Spandau had been on the quarterdeck with 
 his perspective glass since four o'clock in the 
 morning, while it was still dark. He looked 
 out at all points into the distance, in search of 
 the Argentine man-of-war La Caza. Several 
 barks aud schooners, and a crew of fishing 
 shallops showed themselves, but nowhere, no- 
 where did he see a brig that resembled a brig 
 of war. 
 
 Instead of this, however, to his deadly alarm, 
 two sm.U vessels displayed themselves to his 
 piercing gaze, anchored close to each other, not 
 far from the island of Alvaredo. They were the 
 schooner Mazzini and the schooner brig Astrala. 
 
 Fortunately the spy found himself still alone 
 upon the quarterdeck. No one observed him with 
 particular attention. The man at the helm took 
 as little notice of him as the mate who had the 
 watch, and the sailors of the forem.ist watch 
 troubled themselves still less about " the fellow 
 with the impertinent nose." No one remarked 
 that he was indisposed, that he was really pale. 
 
 At length, however, he was noticed by some 
 one. The cabin boy had risen, and came tot- 
 tering, half asleep, on deck. " Are you seasick, 
 Senhor Baron .'" inquired he, yawning Irom pure 
 sympathy, and rubbing his eyes. The baron 
 made no reply. He could not answer lor anger, 
 and rage, and fury — least of all, a miserable cabin 
 boy. 
 
 He looked again through the perspective glass, 
 as if he hoped that both vessels had been only 
 phantoms, perhaps only little " flying Dutch- 
 men," and might now have disappeared. But 
 there they still lay. The schooner brig -Astrala, 
 which he had daily seen in the Bay of Rio, and 
 the schooner Mazzini, which Dr Merbold had 
 described to him as fully as he was aulelo des- 
 cribe a vessel which was not a beetle. 
 
 The single consolation of the seller of souls.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 346 
 
 was the light wind, which sustained the hope 
 that the Caza might still appear before the Bride 
 of Abydos had made the short distance into the 
 harbor. This hope was, howevpr, combined with 
 the fear that the two *' cursed corsairs" would 
 " cut off" the Bride of Abydos from the Caza, 
 and make the communication between them im- 
 possible, in case Captain Tumble should even 
 appear in the distance with a fresh breeze. 
 
 it was a situation which might put an honest 
 man in despair, to say nothing of a scoundrel. 
 The matter here did not merely concern the full 
 price which was set upon the head of Dolores. 
 He was to receive half the reward if he were 
 obliged himself to accomplish the order of the 
 ministerial executioner at Buenos Ayrcs, and of 
 this half he had, as is known, again promised 
 the half to Captain Tumble. The object in this 
 case was particularly the delivery itself, the 
 honor attached to such a %vork for sustaining the 
 monarchical principle '. 
 
 It struck eight bells, as the captain stepped 
 upon tile quarterdeck. He was a small, friendly 
 Scot, from Aberdeen — Captain White, a seaman 
 who had experienced many changes of wind, 
 and many storms, and seen many foreign shores. 
 
 " Halloo !" cried he, " twp vessels at an- 
 chor," and had some water brought to make his 
 toilet, as the Baroness de Spandau occupied his 
 cabin with the baron, and lie slept in a berth 
 where the mate otherwise had his quarters. 
 
 •' Tiiese are a couple of vessels of war — priva- 
 teers from Monte Video I suspect," remarked he, 
 as the mate approached him. " Hoist the flag !" 
 added he ; " let us see at once what fire we are 
 coming under. England is not at war here with 
 the Republicans, as far as I know. I hope we 
 have nothing to fear." 
 
 The flag was hoisted. Dolores appeared, not- 
 withstanding the early hour, leaning on the arm 
 of Corinna, and seated herself on a barrel near 
 the helm. Hardly had she beheld the two ves- 
 sels, tlian a gleam of joy overspread her coun- 
 tenance, and without concerning herself about 
 the baron's proximity, she exclaimed, " thank 
 God ! that is Captain Hinango and Captain Ba- 
 rigaldi !" 
 
 " You know these two sail then, if I may ask," 
 said the captain, who had often conversed with 
 Dolores during the voyage. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," sighed she, " very weil. I 
 know both vessels, captain ; the small schooner 
 is the Mazzini from Monte Video, the schooner 
 brig is the Astrala of Hayti ; both captains have 
 shown me great civility. Captain Hinango came 
 as passenger with me from Buenos Ayres to 
 Kio." 
 
 " Then I will steer close by them," returned 
 Captain White ; " perhaps we may hail them." 
 
 " The schooner brig is making sail already !" 
 cried the man at (he helm. 
 
 " The schooner also," cried the mate. 
 
 " The crews manoeuvre well ! excellently !" 
 added the captain ! " that goes like the devil ! 
 halloo ! there ! they've done it already — weighed 
 anchor already ! If we only had a wind now." 
 
 " The flag of Montevideo — light blue, striped 
 with white," said the mate to himself, while he 
 looked through the telescope, " and the flag of 
 Hayti — blue also — dark blue and white," added 
 he ; " two cursedly neat vessels ! in good trim ! 
 fine rigging ! both carry flags on the foremast • 
 44 
 
 the schooner — green, red, and white ; the other, 
 the brig — blue, white, and yellow, and a star in 
 the blue." 
 
 " That is the flag of the Scandinavian Union," 
 remarked Captain White ; " the Haytian captain 
 is probably a Scandinavian ; the Scandinavians 
 are fine seamen !" 
 
 " That he is !" assented Dolores ; " the captain 
 of the Astrala is a Finn, formerly a Russian ma- 
 rine officer." 
 
 " A Finn .' Captain Hinango .', formerly a Rus- 
 sian marine ofl^icer ?" inquired the captain, medi- 
 tating j " is not his name Ormur Olafur Hinango ?" 
 
 " To be sure," cried Dolores, " do you know 
 him ?" 
 
 " I know a Russian marine oflScer of that 
 name, who has been condemned to Siberia, to 
 the lead mines, on account of political crimes, as 
 a republican." 
 
 " That's the same !" cried Dolores. 
 
 " He went as passenger with a friend of mine, 
 Captain Allan, of the brig Ivanhoe, from Lon- 
 don to Bahia, some years since. I lived in his 
 society there for some weeks. He is an agreeable 
 man — a strong republican !" 
 
 '* That he is !" assented Dolores, more and 
 more happy and joyful, from the neighborhood 
 of her friends, and from Captain White's casual 
 acquaintance with her [jrotector. 
 
 After long reflection upon her situation, and 
 the danger that threatened her, Dolores had 
 already, in the first days of the voyage, formed 
 the resolution to confide her position, in case of 
 need, to the captain of the Bride of Abydos, as 
 she recognised in him a man who was a true 
 seaman. She had as yet, however, found no oc- 
 casion to make demands upon his proctection. 
 
 The police or government had not refused her 
 a residence on Brazilian ground in order to de- 
 liver her up, (that contradicted the constitution,) 
 hut that they might be able to answer the allied 
 quasi constitutional government of the Argen- 
 tine republic, " that the lady was not there." Only 
 the so called " cabinet system," according to 
 which a government concludes one afl'air or an- 
 other " entirely underhand," (as a diplomatic 
 secret,) could in such a case endanger the per- 
 sonal safety of any one whatever, who ought to 
 have claims upon the protection of the laws. 
 But exactly in this characterless inelhoiency 
 with which constitutional monarchy endeavors 
 to evade the laws in all which sustains the prin- 
 ciple of despotism, and voluntarily employs 
 them in all that can suppress the principle of 
 freedom, lies the contemptiblenessof such a sys- 
 tem — the wretchedness of a government that 
 has neither the courage nor the force to main- 
 tain a ])rinciple, as it ever shows itself in such 
 cases in its full extent. Constitutional ineffi- 
 ciency offers the hand to every despot from cow- 
 ardice, and endeavors to mask its want of char- 
 acter before the nation, as if it acted liberally. 
 This inconsistency of constitutional monarchy, 
 fills the history of our characterless epoch with 
 its contradictions and miseries, as it fills the 
 dungeons in free countries with exiles, and 
 chases the victim of such inefficiency into the 
 hands of the executioner by " expulsion." 
 
 It is in such cases not by any means the per- 
 son, who is persecuted as an exile — it is the 
 principle of freedom and of humanity, which, 
 condemned to death by absolutism must be eradi-
 
 346 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 cated, and, nevertheless, will not be eradicated 
 so limg as the idea of tlie divinity lies in man. 
 We behold in such persecutions the blindness 
 and obduracy of tlie creatures in the pay of mon- 
 archy, who can forget nothing, because they 
 nave learnt nothing, in rehiticn to tlie history ot 
 nations — as the history of mankind ; it is British 
 dullness translated into diplomacy, which, from 
 the throne do.vnwards, fills the air of the cabi- 
 net with a contagious infection, and endues the 
 ablcs' jurists or diplomatists with dullness, so 
 soon as they obtain a portfolio under the arm, 
 and roll towaids the court in their carriages. 
 
 If " J.Iinisterial Excellencies" would reflect 
 that a century intervened between John Huss and 
 the Reformation, they would perceive that nei- 
 ther expulsion nor execution is able to extermi- 
 nate the spirit, that once led the Israelites out 
 of Egypt, and drove the Britons from the United 
 States. 
 
 The baron stood at the bulwark of the quar- 
 terdeck, at some distance from Dolores, while 
 she was talking so confidentially to the friendly 
 little Captain White. He seemed still very much 
 indisposed. He had for the last month managed 
 all tilings so admirably that could lead to his 
 object. 
 
 He had obtained from Mr. Thomson's own 
 mouth the confession that Robert stood in 
 peculiar relations to Madame Closting, and 
 thought to carry her ofl", at least he might assert 
 as much. He had, upon this confession of the 
 uncle, made the revelation to the authorities, 
 that no other than Mr. Robert Walker was the 
 originator of the murder which had been 
 attempted on Mr. Closting, and was now slowly 
 arriving at its accomplisliment. He bad given 
 the Minister of Police a hint, that the exile from 
 Buenos Ayres occupied herself with the edition 
 of her republican poems, and obtained, through 
 Miss Susan, some sheets of her manuscript, 
 which he used for his purpose, and then re- 
 placed, so I hat their removal could scarcely be 
 remarked. 
 
 He had written to Captain Tumble to Santos, 
 when the Caza lay there, to take under convoy 
 an English vessel that was to carry arms to 
 Buenos Ayres. He had thereby infoimed Cap- 
 tain Tumble where the two " cursed miserable 
 sail of the Humaiiitarios" now lay, and all was 
 now to be wrecked. 
 
 He had just reached the port of treachery, 
 and then not to enter it — to be forced to sea 
 again with a contrary wind ? No ! he stood 
 at his post, and knew what still remained for 
 him !o do 
 
 The two privateers approached the " Bride of 
 Abydos." He might expect that Hinango would 
 come on board immediately, and carry oil" Do- 
 lores — to take her to Monte Video. The baron 
 must hasten to action — he was on service — it was 
 his duly. 
 
 " John, will you be so good as to bring me an 
 orange?'' cried Dolores to the cabin boy, as he 
 came up from the cabin, and made preparations 
 for breakfast. 
 
 " Directly Seiiora," replied John, and would 
 have turned back again. 
 
 " Do you wish to discharge me from service 
 Senora.'" cried the baron, who had hitherto 
 prepared two oranges every morning, one for 
 the baroness, and one lor Dolores, as they, ac- 
 
 cording to Brazilian usage, took care to enjny nn 
 orange every morning regularly before break- 
 fast. 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself, Senhor Baron," cried 
 she after him, as lie hurried down into his pri- 
 vate cabin, where the baroness still lay in sweet 
 gentle slumber — for she had gone to rest very 
 late. 
 
 The baron selected two beautiful oranges — 
 stuck each, according to Brazilian method, upon 
 a fork, and cutting a small circular piece from 
 each, divided the rind lengthwise in such a 
 manner Ihat it formed a flower, of which the 
 orange was the chalice, and then, opening with 
 a trembling hand his private medicine chest, 
 he took out two little flasks, and dropped some 
 drops, and a substance like a grain ol salt, into 
 an incision in the middle of one of the oranges. 
 This done, he went with both oranges on deck, 
 and stepped before Dolores, with peculiar polite- 
 ness, and with a jesting, happy deportment, as 
 if he were in particularly good humor. 
 
 " Which do you please to have ?" inquired 
 he, as he turned his hack towards the bulwark, 
 and held both hands behind hira ; " will you 
 have the orange in the right or the left hand .'" 
 
 " You are very kind, baron," said Dolores, 
 guilelessly and unconstrainedly ; " give me the 
 one which is nearest your heart, the left, if the 
 baroness docs not protest against it." 
 
 The baron exchanged the oranges, as he hap- 
 pened to have the prepared one in his right 
 hand, and presented it to the condemned with 
 peculiar ceremony, but with a trembling hand. 
 
 Captain White, and the mate, and the man at 
 the helm, observed the free choice of Dolores, 
 and thought the jest sportive. 
 
 Dolores sucked the rich juice of the orange 
 with peculiar enjoyment from the unfolded 
 flower, and shivered, lor the fruit was very cool 
 and fresh. 
 
 The baron found himself again indisposed, he 
 leaned against the bulwark, holding the second 
 orange in his hand, which was intended for his 
 lady. "Shall I give you another, SeSora?" 
 inquired he, stammeringly. 
 
 " Thank you, baron — one orange before coffee 
 is enough, 1 never take but one in the morn- 
 ing. I am much obliged to you." 
 
 She turned again to Captain White, and talke<l 
 to him about Captain Hinango, and told him of 
 Captain Kinngreeu, who had taken her from 
 Buenos Ayres to Rio 
 
 The cabin boy asked the baron if he would 
 awaken his lady for breakfast — the table was set, 
 and the coffee ready ; or whether he should 
 knock himself. 
 
 The baron nodded his head, and John made 
 a noise at the private cabin, to awaken the 
 Baroness de Spandau from her siveet dreams of 
 the honeymoon. 
 
 " How beautifully the two vessels glide along 
 there, near each otlier,"" said Dolores; " it is an 
 image of fraternal concord — exposed to all the 
 storms of life ! I am so pleased, captain, at the 
 sigiit of these two vessels. I almost regret that 
 1 am not a man to conduct a third with these 
 two ; it should be called " El Desterrado," and 
 should be a terror to monarch's.'' 
 
 Dolores talked on thus gaily, until uncle 
 George appeared and led her down to break- 
 fast.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 347 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE VICTIM. 
 
 It was about ten o'clock in the forenoon. The 
 wind was still light — very light. The two ves- 
 sels of the " Humanita" had slowly, very slow- 
 ly, pursued their course to meet the " Bride of 
 Abydos, and now were almost side by side. Mr. 
 Thomson was smoking his segar, and rejoicing 
 once more right heartily over the singular con- 
 currence of circumstances under which Seiiora 
 Dolores could the less refuse him her hand, as 
 she evidently required a safe asylum, and no- 
 thing else remained for her, but to go to Eng- 
 land with him. The clergyman whose attend- 
 ance had been bespoken at the betrothal dinner 
 had not been brought along, as the wedding of 
 the baroness had already taken place, and Mr. 
 Thomson had inquired and satisfied himself that 
 an English ecclesiastic lived at Santa Catharina, 
 who knew how to manage his business right 
 practically. Mr. Thomson found himself in a 
 6tate of boundless gratification. The view of 
 the wonderful landscape, which now lay before 
 him, it is true, interested him very little, for 
 during his whole life he had scarcely had an 
 hour to himself, in which to turn his eyes upon 
 mountains, and valleys, and rocks, and trees, 
 and the like, unless to a piece of ground for a 
 
 Eurchase. He was all the more interested, 
 owever, with the prospect of his fifth mar- 
 riage, which was now to take place there ; 
 there — on the charming island of Santa Catha- 
 rina ; and he longed to be on shore, " to arrange 
 the business with the clergyman," and to hire a 
 private residence, until the " Bride of Abydos," 
 or another vessel, should convey him and his 
 lawful, charming, blooming wife, to England. 
 He was determined, in case Dolores wished it, 
 to retire from business, and hire a palace in 
 Florence, or somewhere else, and live right 
 comfortably in nuptial felicity. The appearance 
 of the two privateers in the latitude of Santa 
 Catharina, which, anchored there, were evi- 
 dently waiting for something, occasionally 
 passed through his head. They were the As- 
 trala and the Mazzini — Barigaldi and Hinango ; 
 two " fellows with hair on their teeth," with 
 hair on the upper lip, with moustaches, and, so 
 far as was generally known, they carried their 
 hearts in the right place. The thought that 
 perhaps Hinango " had an eye to Dolores," (as 
 people express themselves in matrimonial af- 
 fairs,) had hitherto been far from the old 
 widower. He had remarked no love passages 
 between Dolores and him so long as she resided 
 at Bota Fogo. Nevertheless, however, the ap- 
 proach of the two privateer vessels, appeared to 
 him suspicious and doubtful. He racked his 
 brains about the occasion of their blockade of 
 the entrance to Santa Catharina, and talked over 
 the matter with Captain White. 
 
 The captain remarked that the mainland of 
 the province of Rio Grande commenced directly 
 below the province of Santa Catharina, hardly 
 sixty miles distant from their present latitude, 
 and the two privateers were probably destined 
 for Laguna, and were taking ammunition, or 
 something of that kind, on board here, without 
 having any designs upon the Bride of Abydos. 
 The two vessels of the " Humanita " now 
 
 floated towards each other, and all eyes were 
 directed upon them. 
 
 Hinango stood on his quarterdeck, and beside 
 him Horatio, who had travelled from Rio Grande 
 to Monte Video by land, and conveyed the re- 
 quest to Captain Barigaldi to go, if possible, to- 
 wards Santa Calharina; arrived there, he had 
 gone on board the Astrala, where the cabin was 
 now arranged in the best manner possible for 
 Dolores and Corinna. 
 
 The baroness was leaning on the arm of the 
 baron ; she looked very pale, but very interest- 
 ing, in the highest degree interesting, as every 
 young woman generally looks in the first days 
 or weeks after marriage. She was dressed in a 
 very tasteful neglige, with a little hat " a la 
 Duchesse de Berry," over which was thrown a 
 green veil. 
 
 The Astrala steered nearest, and Captain Hi- 
 nango called through the speaking trumpet the 
 seamanlike " Brig ahoy !" 
 
 Captain White, upon his post in expectation 
 of this summons, answered, and the captain of 
 the Astrala, in all due form inquired, although 
 he knew the answer beforehand : 
 
 " Where are you from :" 
 
 " From Rio de Janeiro." 
 
 *' Where bound .'" 
 
 " For Santa Catharina and Buenos Ayres." 
 
 " Have you passengers on board ?" 
 
 " My whole cabin full, and a lady whom you 
 know. Captain Hinango: and you know me 
 also; I am Captain White — ' Bride of Abydos,' 
 the friend of Captain Allan of the Ivanhoe." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it — very glad ; I'll come 
 on board of you !" returned the captain of the 
 .'istrala. 
 
 There was silence again on the quarterdeck 
 of the ' Bride of Abydos.' 
 
 " A fine man !" said Captain White, smiling, 
 " this Captain Hinango ! a naval officer of the 
 first class .' Where's our Senora i"' inquired he, 
 looking around him; "she hasn't became sea- 
 sick .'' Strange that she is not on deck !" 
 
 " She ,is asleep," replied the Baroness de 
 Spandau, " she desired me to awake her if the 
 two vessels came near us." The baroness was 
 going down into the cabin to awaken Dolores. 
 The baron stepped before her, and ob.served that 
 it was time enough yet, she miglit still repose 
 until her friend was on board of the vessel. 
 
 Captain Hinango now called to the captain of 
 the Mazzini to hold himself in readiness ; he 
 would lower his boat, and take him off to go on 
 board the ' Bride of Abydos.' All three vessels 
 now laid themselves " by the wind," which, 
 moreover, did not disturb them very much. 
 
 " You also know Captain Hinango," continued 
 Captain White, in conversation with Mr. Thom- 
 son. 
 
 " To be sure I know him ! a respectable man, 
 a gentleman, is Captain Hinango ! I know him 
 very well ! The cannon of the Astrala were 
 furnished by us ; he equipped the Astrala in Rio ; 
 and took a great deal of us, from our stares ; 
 the new schooner's sail was bought of us ! it's 
 cloth from your native place — from Aberdeen." 
 
 " One may see that !" observed Captain White, 
 " and very well fitted ; and she comes to beauti- 
 fully ; " 
 
 The baroness was walking up and down on the 
 arm of the baron, as the Bride of Abydos lay
 
 3i8 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 nearlv motionless on the surface of the water, as 
 well as the two privateers. The baron, however, 
 reeled notwithstanding this, and could hardly 
 keep his feet. He required the support of his 
 ladv, instead of her leaning upon him ; he was 
 feverish, and his lady deeply lamented that he 
 was not well. 
 
 The boat of the Astrala, in whose stern Mr. 
 Closting had received the sti-oke of the dagger, 
 now lay aloiisside. The two officers of the " Hu- 
 minila," in dark blue uniform, with white an- 
 chor bultons, and snow white nether garments, 
 stepped upon the deck. Both wore flat naval 
 hats, and each carried his national cockade; 
 small swords in silver scabbards appeai-ed ou their 
 hips. Horatio accompanied them. 
 
 " Captain White I " began Hinango, " you 
 know our flags. My schooner brig is the Astrala, 
 of Hayti, cruising against the slave trade, and the 
 schooner is the Mazzini, of Monle Video— Cap- 
 tain Barigaldi," added he, introducing his friend 
 to the captain of the Bride of Abydos. 
 
 " Mr. George Thompson ! how do you find 
 yourself .' how are you .' said he now to the 
 freighter of the vessel ; " I congratulate you on 
 vour fortunate arrival before Santa Catharina ; I 
 (lid not think that I should have the pleasure of 
 meeting you here." 
 
 " You have been to Bahia, as we saw by the 
 papers ? " returned Mr. Thompson. 
 
 " To Bahia, and there found orders from my 
 government, which pointed out to me another 
 course. But where is Robert .- our Robert ? my 
 fiiend Robert .' and where's Miss Fanny ?" in- 
 quired he, looking around him with peculiar 
 anxiety. " I recollect your plan of making this 
 voyage en famille P' 
 
 " Miss Fanny is in Buenos Ayres ; and the 
 the young lady whom you have known under this 
 name is called Isabella de Campana, and is here 
 on board ; she is asleep just now." 
 
 " We will take the liberty to have her awak- 
 ened, it will give her great pleasure to see you," 
 said Captain White. " John bring two bottles of 
 port, and glasses, and biscuit ! — and biscuit out 
 of the tin box !" 
 
 The baroness again offered to awaken her 
 friend, and went down into the cabin. The 
 baron accompanied the lady to the stairs, and 
 then leaned there at the entrance, he was again 
 very much indisposed, it was plainly to be seen. 
 Hinango directed his gaze upon him — he could 
 not endure it, and looked on the ground. 
 
 Mr. Thomson now informed Captain Hinango, 
 that Robert had remained behind in Rio from 
 indisposition, that he had had a nervous fever 
 since the departure of the Astrala, but was already 
 convalescent, and would probably soon follow 
 them. 
 
 A shriek sounded upwards from the open sky- 
 light, and then another, and then it became as 
 still iis death. 
 
 " My God, whafs that?" cried several with 
 one voice, and Captain White hurried past the 
 baron into the cabin. The two privateer cap- 
 tains and Horatio followed, witli Mr. Thomson, 
 all silently, and with palpitating hearts. 
 
 " Dead ! dead I dead ! " passed from mouth 
 
 to mouth. " A stroke of apoplexy !" cried the 
 
 baron. " My God ! my God ! and my wife ! 
 
 dead also ! — dead also !" 
 
 " No !" cried the baroness, awakening from 
 
 her swoon, " no ! but horrible ! h( rrible ! to die 
 here on board, of apoplexy ! — dead !" 
 
 All gazed upon each other. Hinango and 
 Barigaldi recollected themselves first, and bore 
 the body on deck, in the hope that rescue might 
 yet be possible. But Dolores was lifeless — her 
 exalted soul had forsaken its shell of clay ; the 
 orange had done its work. Her lips were bluish, 
 as well as her cheeks. 
 
 " Poisoned ! poisoned !" passed from mouth to 
 mouth, and Horatio sank senseless beside the 
 body. Achilles and Corinna wrung their hands 
 and wept disconsolately. Burning tears sparkled 
 in the flashing glances of the two " corsairs," and 
 their lips quivered. 
 
 The whole crew had crowded around the main- 
 mast, and silently and speechlessly all gazed on 
 the body of the noble young lady, who had been 
 honored like a saint on board, from the captain 
 down to the lowest sailor. 
 
 The baroness had remained in the cabin, and 
 the baron with her, wailing and lamenting " over 
 the terrible misfortune^over the death of the 
 amiable young lady in blooming youth, on boai'd 
 the Bride of Abydos — of apoplexy!" 
 
 " Murder ! murder through treachery !" cried 
 Hinango at length, after a deathlike silence," and 
 the murderer is here on board. Captain White, 
 you sail under the British flag, and we are both 
 lawful republican privateers. We respect your 
 position, your flag, and will not by any means 
 forget our standing as oftjcers under neutral 
 or allied flags ; — we respect England, Monte 
 Video, and Hayti. But we ' would have' aright 
 to demand that a murderer be sent from on board, 
 — the murderer of this young lady, Dolores, 
 condemned to death as a republican poetess by- 
 Rosas, and betrayed and poisoned by a creature 
 who calls himself the Baron de Spandau. Here, 
 Captain White, is a letter that this scoundrel 
 despatched firom Rio to Captain Tumble, com- 
 mander of the Argentine brig La Caza, who 
 should have met him here at this time to take 
 the condemned on board, and carry her to Buenos 
 Ayres to the scaffold." 
 
 Captain White stared at Mr. Thomson, who 
 had long ago been deprived of speech. Both 
 read the letter, which Hinango had received 
 through Patrick, which was sufficient to unveil 
 the murder. 
 
 Mr. Thomson beckoned to the captain of the 
 Bride of Abydos, and both descended into the 
 cabin. They found the baron upon the sofa o 
 the large outer cabin, deadly pale, and gazing on 
 vacancy, with the baroness beside bim, her lace 
 concealed in his half opened vest, clasping him 
 firmly with both hands, as if she feared to lose 
 her young husband, as if he miglit be stolen 
 from'her — a terrible thought for the young baron- 
 ess in the honeymoon ! 
 
 " Mr. Spandau ! or whatever your name is {" 
 began Mr. Thomson, placing himself directly in 
 front of the trembling nuptial pair ! " Mr. Span- 
 dau, here's your letter to Captain Tumble. Take 
 yourself from on board !" 
 
 With these words he held the well known let- 
 ter under the nose of the murderer, who, like 
 Mr. Closting at the sight of the sympathy birds, 
 lost his presence of mind, and was unable to 
 utter a word, or even a syllable. 
 
 Instead of him, however, the baroness raised 
 her pale face from the open vest of her husband.
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 349 
 
 Snd soon after that, she raised lier voice, while 
 she stared at her brother, and exclaimed: "What 
 Is it ? what's the matter ?" 
 
 " The matter is," replied Mr. Thomson, " that 
 an infamous scoundrel has circrimvented, deceived 
 and betrayed jou, and me, and all of us, and has 
 murdered our Dolores — my Dolores — poisoned 
 her — as clearly and truly as that her body lies up 
 there, and the murderer in your arms." 
 
 " What a shameful, infamous calumny !" now 
 shrieked the exemplary wife of the of the baron ; 
 " whiit an infamous thing ! to call my husband a 
 scoundrel ! and even to accuse him of murder !" 
 
 " A twofold murder !" interrupted Hinango, 
 who had followed the two, and stood beside Mr. 
 
 Thomson. " I know Mr. — , whatever 
 
 vour name is," said he now to the baron, " 1 
 know very well that you hired a negro named 
 Moloch to stab me on the evening before my de- 
 parture, and that his dagger pierced your friend 
 Mr. Closting. You serve in an exemplary man- 
 ner the secret police of the monarchial principle, 
 but there rules a Nemesis, a mysterious power of 
 Providence ! I have nothing further to say to 
 you." 
 
 •' Who is this man ? the foreigner .' that he 
 dares to com.e down into our cabin with his 
 moustaches, and insult my husband .'" screamed 
 the baroness with the voice of a fury. *' Who is 
 this foreigner .' what does the fellow want here .' 
 is he a passenger here or captain .' Come baron I 
 let's pack up and go on shore ! Call a fisher- 
 man's boat. Captain White ! you have men here 
 on board, with whom one cannot come in con- 
 tact without the risk of injuring their respecta- 
 bility ! — it is shameful ! — fle ! infamous ! infa- 
 mous ! to calumniate my husband so ! And who 
 is the foreign person, after all, that has died of 
 apoplexy .' Who is she ? a foreigner — who tra- 
 velled around the world Under all sorts of false 
 names, and had acquaintance with God knows 
 who, and corresponded in verse and prose with 
 suspicious persons — -and belonged to no church, 
 neither the English nor the Catholic, and read 
 Lord Byron, and Madame Sand, and " 
 
 " Hold your hellish tongue ! you miserable 
 woman, who are unfortunately my sister!" inter- 
 rupted Mr. Thomson ; " hold your tongue, I tell 
 you, or I'll throw you overboard ! — you first, like 
 a cat, and then this fellow here, like a dog ! Now 
 pack up your duds, and then get ready to on 
 shore. Come Captain White, come captain," 
 said he, suddenly recollecting himself, to the 
 two witnesses, and all three mounted to the 
 quarterdeck. 
 
 Captain White penetrated, with the sharp look 
 of a seaman, the peculiar conflict of circumstan- 
 ces under which the treasonable murder was 
 committed, arrived on the quarterdeck with the 
 two naval officers and old Mr. Thomson. He 
 expressed his decided intention to keep tlie 
 murderer as a prisoner on board, and to deliver 
 him for trial to the British consul, or to another 
 British authority in the next place to his present 
 Station. He added to his explanation to the 
 two captains : " Your decision in regard to this 
 tniserable scoundrel is, to be sure, an action of 
 generosity on your part as captains, to the honor 
 of your flag. Your action is fair, noble — really 
 generous — but the murderer is a ' murderer,' and 
 his crime has been committed ' on board of my 
 V«»»el,' under the British flag, and therefore " 
 
 Mr. Thomson interrupted the worthy seaman 
 with the single remark, to take in consideration 
 that the so called " Baron de Spandau" was un- 
 fortunately his brother-in-law ; and the captain 
 resigned his personal obligation aaa British cap- 
 tain, leaving the whole cause, and the murderer 
 and his lady, to the disposition of the two gen- 
 erous ** corsairs" of the '* Humanita." 
 
 Captain White ordered all the baggage of the 
 baron to be brought up, that they might be ready 
 for debarkation, and now turned his attention to 
 the neighboring lishing boats, one of which might 
 set the two passengers on shore. 
 
 No one spoke ; the countenances of all were 
 pale, and all eyes were moist. 
 
 Hinangn ordered the body for the present to 
 be taken into the cabin, to withdraw it from the 
 sun. Achilles and Corinna, who went about in 
 a dreamlike state of terror and despair, fulfilled 
 the order, and the silence of death prevailed as 
 hitherto upon the deck. 
 
 The flag of the Bride of Ahydos was lowered 
 to half-mast, as a signal of mourning, and imme- 
 diately after, the flags of Hayti and of Monte 
 Video on the two privateers were also lowered. 
 
 " There comes a fishing shallop, or sumacca !" 
 said Captain White interrupting the prevailing 
 silence. " We will hail them. I know very 
 well that I ought not to set any one on shore 
 until I have undergone the visit from the alfan- 
 dega— but in this case the devil take the whole 
 alfandega, and the baron first I" 
 
 " We shall not receive the visit of the alfan- 
 dega here," said old Mr. Thomson, in a voice of 
 emotion ; " we shall not cast anchor before Santa 
 Catharina— not now. So soon as we are freed 
 from the two passengers, you will lay your course 
 for the coast of the province of Rio Grande, Cap- 
 tain White ; there we will make land, and com- 
 mit the mortal shell, the body, to the earth. Our 
 papers, to be sur«, are made out for Buenos 
 Ayres, but this officer of the Oriental marine, 
 Captain Barigaldi, will have the goodness to 
 procure us anchorage there under such circum- 
 stances. The two provinces are at friendship 
 with, each other; no danger impending." 
 
 Captain White agreed with the freighter of 
 the vessel. A sailor crept cut on the bowsprit 
 with a flag, which he had found on deck, and 
 beckoned the fishing shallop, to come alongside. 
 It was the designated flag with the myrtle 
 wreath, which the baron had brought to the for- 
 ward deck in the night, and laid under the long 
 boat, to have it at hand, when the Caza should 
 show herself. The fishing shallop was at the 
 side. Captain White asked the man who con- 
 ducted her whether he would set a lady and gen- 
 tleman on shore on the neighboring island of 
 ."Mvaredo, or wherever it might suit them. The 
 man was very ready, and Captain White went 
 down into the cabin. 
 
 The amiable baroness soon appeared, thickly 
 veiled, leaning on the arm of her husband, and 
 tottered with very unsteady steps over the gang- 
 way, and was handed down into the shallop 
 The baron followed her. Neither he nor she 
 cast a glance around them. The whole baggage 
 of trunks and boxes was let down after them, 
 which had been placed in readiness on Ihegang- 
 way. John, the cabin boy, just then brought 
 the writing-desk and the little mahogany m^- 
 cine chest of the baron past the quarterdeck.
 
 350 
 
 DOLORES, 
 
 "Stop 1" cried Hinango to him, drawing a piece 
 of paper from lii3 pocketbook ; and taking his 
 silver pencil, he wrote upon it a receipt for these 
 two pieces, and ordered the male to hand the 
 paper to the baron, with the remark that he 
 would send both boxes to the Prussian or Rus- 
 sian consul in Rio de Janeiro, when he had ex- 
 amined their contents. 
 
 The baron received the paper with a trem- 
 bling h;ind, and said not a word. 
 
 All the etfects were now from on board, and 
 the shallop pushed off, and steered towards the 
 island of Alvaredo. 
 
 The Seabreeze had strengthened a little, and 
 admitted of their laying their course. The two 
 captains agreed upon signals with Captain 
 White, that they might arrive at Lagnna in com- 
 pany, and returned again to their quarterdecks. 
 
 Slowly, and then by degrees more rapidly, the 
 three vessels floated along near each other, and 
 soon lost sight of the coast, with the islands of 
 Gal, Alvaredo, and Santa Catharina, as they went 
 further out to sea in search of a little wind for 
 the course to Laguna. 
 
 The body of Dolores was covered with moist 
 cool sails, which they did not remove until the 
 ship's carpenters .had completed a plain coffin, 
 in which Corinna laid the victim to eternal re- 
 pose. 
 
 Among the papers of the murdered one, was 
 found a letter to Horatio, which declared him, 
 in case of her death, the heir of all her literary 
 manuscripts, the spirit of which appeared in the 
 " Hymn of Curse," and the Klegy " El Dester- 
 rado," which are preserved in these pages. 
 
 '•^****4-t-^>t*^^^**^~ 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 KEST IN THE GRAVE. 
 
 Towards midnight of the same day the mourn- 
 ing squadron arrrived at the bay near the har- 
 bor of Laguna, and came to anchor. Captain 
 Barigaldi went on shore, and sought an officer of 
 the armed coasters, to explain to him the unfor- 
 tunate occasion of their approach. 
 
 It so happened that a strong body of the insur- 
 gents were quartered in the neighborhood to 
 guard the coast against a landing on the part of 
 the imperial troops, and among the commanders 
 of the cavalry appeared Celeste. The latter soon 
 learned from the mouth of Barigaldi all the par- 
 ticulars of the history of Dolores, from the time 
 of her departure from Buenos Ayres to her 
 death, and entered the boat of the Mazzini, at- 
 tended by a functionary of the republic of Rio 
 Grande, that he might, with him, make arrange- 
 ments for the landing of the corpses, in order to 
 exempt the captain of the Bride of Abydos from 
 all responsibility. 
 
 On the silent shore of the country whose peo- 
 ple have struggled for years for life and death, 
 to render themselves independent of the disgrace 
 of monarchy — a lonely grave was dug for the 
 South American poetess of the " Humanita." 
 
 Solemnly, and in the deathlike silence of the 
 starlight night, was the interment completed. 
 A mute prayer from the breast of all, to the Pri- 
 
 mitive Spirit of Creation, who governs the world 
 and the fates of men, and guides the nations, 
 superseded the expressions of mourning, which 
 were suffocated by overpowering grief in the 
 hearts of the sorrowers. 
 
 After the fulfilment of the last tragical duties 
 to the earthly shell of an exalted spirit, the navi- 
 gators and Mr. Thomson returned on board their 
 vessels, and Celeste, accompanied by Horatio- 
 went back to the camp of the insurgents. 
 
 Before the sUn, on the following mornings 
 lighted the foaming waves on the border of the 
 silent coast, the three vessels had disappeared^ 
 each upon its particular course. 
 
 Doctor Thorfin had superintended the inter- 
 ment of the corpses on Da Gloria, and twogtaves, 
 beside each other, covered the bodies of the two 
 mortals whose souls had become a unity upon 
 earth ; while the body of the broken female heart, 
 so long as it boat, was the lawful property of a 
 man who looked for no soul in a woman. 
 
 The bones of the two unhappy ones now rested 
 beside each other, wliose spiritual being, had be- 
 come united upon earth by an all powerful bond 
 of mysterious attraction, without enjoying tho 
 terreslial felicity of such a unity of soul. The 
 curse with which their love was burdened here 
 below, was now dissolved by the transition to a 
 realm of light beyond the grave, where, accord- 
 ing to the declaration of Jesus, no bond of terres- 
 tial marriage avails, where the soul recognises 
 itself as soul, and strives onward towards eternal 
 perfectibility, from step to step, in the element 
 of love. 
 
 Mr. Closting expired in delirium, some weeks 
 after these interments, and found his place of 
 repose at a distance from his deceased so called 
 wife, proportioned to that by which, as a man, he 
 had been separated from her on earth. 
 
 Mr. Daily did not neglect to procure an ex- 
 tremely solemn funeral for the skilful man of 
 business, who had aided him to acquire money 
 and credit, and to cause a tombstone of solid 
 worth to be placed on his grave, upon which the 
 virtues of the deceased, as a good CHRisTiAJf, 
 
 A GOOD NATIONAL GUARD, AN EXCELLENT 
 HUSBAND AND FATHER OF A FAMILY, ETC., 
 
 ETC., appeared in very legible, deeply cut letters. 
 Alvarez obtained his freedom through the de- 
 cided steps of Senhor Vera, so soon as the Baron 
 de Spandau had left Rio de Janeiro, and lived 
 with his sister in Praya Grande, until Serafini's 
 sentence of death was softened to " eternal exile 
 from Brazil." He then accompanied his rela- 
 tives to Portugal, whither they were shipped, in 
 the same manner as the Brazilian exiles of high 
 rank in the year 1S42 — since the young mon- 
 archy, as it appears, considered her motherland 
 as a sort of Botany Bay for honorable men. 
 
 Mr. George Thomson returned to Rio Ja- 
 neiro, and learned at his arrival in the bay, 
 through Senhor Pedro, the obliging officer of the 
 alfendega, what had occurred on Da Gloria, 
 shortly before his embarkation for Santa Catha- 
 rina. Six months afterwards, he received intel- 
 ligence of the Baroness de Spandau from Europe, 
 and transmitted her property, according to her 
 order, to a house in London, where she lives very 
 comfortably with her husband, as a happy wife, 
 and as a " baroness." The baron established a 
 gambling house. His hospitable saloon otTered 
 a social circle for foreigners of various nations,
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 851 
 
 to the protection of celebrated court singers, and 
 imperial royal "virtuosi," who were intro- 
 duced there by force. All the guests found the 
 baroness very amiable, the baron very polite, and 
 many withdrew in the most civil manner possible, 
 annoyed by all sorts of suspicious reports. 
 
 Mr. Hafialflcuk Daily did a flourishing busi- 
 ness as partner of the house of Forro &. Co., 
 and soon married a young widow from the family 
 of Madame Forro. 
 
 Bebida wag again sold at auction for a nominal 
 price, and became the property of a French 
 woman in .Santa Theresa, where she muttered 
 her Dabedikadem from early in the morning till 
 late at night. 
 
 Patrick went as a sailor to Rio Grande, by the 
 way of Santa Catharina, and sought for and 
 found his Captain Hinango, who granted him his 
 place of boatswain, which he had long ago held 
 upon the muster roll. 
 
 We have received less decided intelligence of 
 the Astrala than of the Mazzini, which, under 
 the flag of the insurgents of Rio Grande, was 
 nearly sunk in a severe battle with a Brazilian 
 corvette. 
 
 Captain Barigaldi and his crew saved them- 
 eelves by swimming, while a fire of musketry 
 was directed upon them. Barigaldi received 
 three bullets in the right shoulder, and en- 
 trenched himself on shore in a house, where he 
 resisted, during fourteen hours, the attack of the 
 royalists, until Celeste came to his assistance 
 with a troop of cavalry, and destroyed the enemy. 
 
 Horatio complied with the request of Celeste, 
 to witlidraw himself from the armed struggle of 
 Rio Grande, and cultivate his talent for art as 
 much as possible by study and travel. He de- 
 signed to go to Europe and establish his " atelier" 
 in Rome. 
 
 Dr. Thorfin and Mr. Fitz lived in Rio de Ja- 
 neiro as before. The latter went from time to 
 time to San Christova, examined and controlled 
 the air pumps, and other philosophical* instru- 
 ments of the two princesses, of whom it is 
 known that the youngest, some years afterwards, 
 wag married to a European prince for the fur- 
 ther development of lier ^'physique experi- 
 mentale." Mr, Fitz sang afterwards, as before, 
 with a barbarous voice, several times each day, 
 his favorite song, " No general has so powerful 
 might, &c.," in which he olten became melan- 
 choly, and then went and took a walk. 
 
 Doctor Merbold still lived and travelled as be- 
 fore, in Brazil, as an entomologist, and occasion- 
 ally delighted himself with a slice of Minas 
 cheese and a bottle of Bavarian beer, that arrived 
 at Rio de Janeiro by the way of Bremen, to his 
 great national joy 1 
 
 Achilles and Corinna planted trees around 
 Dolores' grave, and remained in the region of La- 
 guna until the uncle of Dolores in Buenog Ayres 
 decided upon their future position, and sent 
 them the means to arrange a home for themselves 
 somewhere, and cultivate a little piece of land 
 for the satisfaction of their unpretending wants. 
 
 It was a natural consequence, that having been 
 involved in the fate of Dolores, they could not 
 
 • This English expression, which would sound like 
 nonsense in every other language, signifies apparatus 
 for the study of pAysigue. Pltysique is the science for 
 ihti investigation oi the powers of nature. 
 
 return to the domain of the " Cacique of the Oan- 
 chos" so long as his axe governed there as a 
 sceptre. 
 
 Mr. George Thomson, after some months, 
 made the acquaintance of a young Portuguese 
 lady of respectable family, of respectable con- 
 nexions, and with a decided tendency to corpu- 
 lency, who became enamored of his equipage, 
 and gave him her delicate hand upon his lightest 
 approximation. 
 
 — ''****^'^^p-*-*-*-*^^*^— 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 WOMAN'S MAGIC. 
 
 Robert's journals and private papers, in tlio 
 absence of his relatives, came into the custody 
 of Doctor Thorfin, who, as a contribution to the 
 study of Psychology, prepared extracts from 
 them, which have been used as materials in this 
 novel. Interesting and instructive as many 
 pages among Robert's papers might be, mani- 
 fold circumstances, nevertheless, will not admit 
 of the publication of extracts. The fragment 
 of a single letter, which, shortly before his death, 
 he wrote to his father, may, however, find its 
 place here, as the youth's confession of faith 
 upon marriage and love. 
 
 " You ask me if I have delivered your let- 
 ter of introduction to Mr. F , and how 1 wag 
 
 received. Freely and open-heartedly, as I have 
 always dealt towards you, m.y dear father, I an- 
 swer you, that [ have laid aside this well meant 
 letter, and shall avoid the acquaintance of the 
 respectable family of F . I know your unex- 
 pressed thought, of one day hearing the intelli- 
 gence that I would lead MissF to the altar ; 
 
 as the property of this young lady, as you have 
 with paternal good intentions intimated to me, 
 " sustains about an equal weight with my future 
 possessions," and as you add, • because Misa 
 F is a true Englishwoman.' 
 
 With all respect towards our amiable country- 
 women, 1 allow myself, once for all, the declara- 
 tion, that I deem maraiage as the most sacred 
 covenant of humanity, which should only be 
 concluded from love, and from no other consider- 
 ation whatever. 
 
 Sincerely as I honor the ' Private Instruc- 
 tions' which you imparted to me, as the indi- 
 vidual view of an Englishman, 1 will never, in 
 the above matter, set aside the claims of my heart 
 as a man. I am of opinion that, in this most 
 important step of the two sexes, nationality does 
 not come so strictly under consideration, as mo- 
 rality and love, and declare every matrimonial 
 union to be immoral, which is concluded upon 
 any material ground whatever. The social 
 world around me here, gives me occasion enough 
 to reflect upon the demoralization which directly 
 and indirectly |)roceeds from a marriage ' a la 
 mode, ' or ' marriage de raison,' and so far as I am 
 hitherto acquainted with the world, I hold such 
 a marriage to be a crime. I recognise such a 
 union, as a privilege of all demoralization, as 
 even the vilest fellow sustains himself upon this 
 privilege, according to which no one darea to
 
 952 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 make his wife acquainted with his masked posi- 
 lion, and of course t!ie scoundrel always finds a 
 aiippovt for his villainy iu his Wife, as a so 
 called ' he:id of a family.' 
 
 If 1 do not find a woman, who, recognising in 
 We a man of honor, loves me, and respects my 
 honesty, I shall probably never marry. As to 
 thereat, I am tolerably well, etc." 
 
 Hinamro learned, through correspondence with 
 Dr. 'I'horfin, whatever could be of importance to 
 him with respect to Robert's relations to Gracia, 
 and the cause of his death, whereby involuntary 
 succession of mutual philosopliical remarks en- 
 sued. The extracts IVom some letters of Hinan- 
 go, as a designation of his social position, and as 
 a retrospect upon the sufTerings of Robert, may 
 likewise here find a suitable place. 
 
 " As you know m.y • absurd' views con- 
 
 cernin? death and life, it will not surprise you 
 when 1 give you the assurance that it is difficult 
 for me to tliink that Dolores is dead. Does not 
 her spirit live in her poems and songs, and is not 
 every human heart that shares her sentiments 
 and participates in her inspiration a sanctuary of 
 life, in which her spirit continues to operate for 
 the cultivation and for the ennoblement of the 
 human heart ; for the development of the exalted 
 idea — God! and Humanity ! 
 
 1 am strengthened by the inspiring 
 
 thought that the spiritual bond which unites kin- 
 dred souls cannot be rent asunder by space nor 
 time, by separation nor death ; that we shall once 
 more, upon some brighter planet, meet again 
 those with whom we lived here in spiritual 
 union ; that we shall approach each other there, 
 beyond the grave, by the spiritual bond of attrac- 
 tion — of love — and, less enchained and palsied 
 by material shell, more susceptible of divine 
 love, more clear in knowledge and in the per 
 ception of God, striving forth from degree to 
 degree, from planet to planet I 
 
 Young Banko has told me a great deal 
 
 about a Madame I''esh, with whom he became ac- 
 quainted in Closting's company somewhere in 
 the interior of Brazil; a woman in all her ex- 
 cellence as a' propagating machine.' Thus we 
 have, in a retrospect upon the fate of Dolores, be- 
 come acquainted with woman in her sixfold 
 social position, in Dolores, Angelica, Gracia, 
 Susan, Sally, and Madame Fesh ; a singular 
 chance, in these six categories may be classed 
 all the women upon earth. 
 
 I hear the staff broken over Dolores, upon her 
 irrave, as during her lifetime, condemned by an- 
 ticipation as an * e.xtravagant enthusiast !' That i.^ 
 very natural. A woman who shows head, and 
 heart, and character, will everywhere encounter 
 scorn from the crowd, who possess neither head, 
 heart, nor character. 
 
 The deliverance of the female sex from the 
 bonds and chains of unnatural regulations and 
 prejudices, is a problem that our age will not 
 solve, so long as it pursues the direction of a 
 faUe civilization, which denies the aim of the 
 cultivation of mankind, and departs from it 
 more ami more. 
 
 As a nation can only be free through the self- 
 Consciousness of its dignity, and the exertion of 
 its own strength, and as no tyrant will ever vol- 
 untarily descend from the throne and lay down 
 
 his sceptre and knout, orchigote, before the peo- 
 ple, in the touchin? outbreak of a return to hu- 
 manity — so does the deliverence of the female 
 sex from the regulations and bonds of a degrading 
 slavery, under the sovereignty of sensuality with- 
 out love, remain within the power of woman 
 herself. 
 
 Hitherto many a woman, renouncing moral 
 freedom, has sold herself, under the protection 
 of church and state, and Under the pretext of 
 fulfilment of conjugal duty, for a living in sen- 
 suality. 
 
 The demoralization of woman does not lie ag 
 well outside of matrimomy, as particularly, in 
 matrimony itself, as this, contracted as a mean 
 Speculation for a Living, at the expense of mo- 
 rality, privileges any extravagance of sensuality. 
 In a seduced woman, (often less sensual than a 
 lawful wife,) the crime is judged which the Man 
 committed first upon the unfortunate female. 
 
 So long as the notion of ' housewife' is almost 
 synonomous with a suckling brute or domestic 
 animal, so long as it is taken very ill of a mother 
 if she reads and writes, there is little hope for 
 the development and cultivation of a future 
 generation. 
 
 So called ' virtuous housewives,' who have long 
 ago smothered, * from reasonable motives,' the 
 remnant of delicacy of feeling which after an 
 education a la mode might casually remain in 
 them, wdl raise the stone of reproach to cast it 
 with ' fitting contempt' upon Gracia's grave. 
 We cannot learn to know a man better than in 
 his judgement upon others ; and so also a woman. 
 The judgement of a man upon the offences of 
 others, is the reflected image of his own nature, 
 whether it be elevated or common, whether it 
 be morally pure, or perturbed by passion and 
 disfigured by crimes, whether it be spiritually 
 great and noble, or soulless, mean, and hypo- 
 critically contemptible. The deeper a woman 
 is sunk in demoralization and hypocrisy, so 
 much the more intolerant does she appear in 
 her uncharitable sentence upon the abcrrati ;ns 
 and unmerited sulferings of her sex. The hypoc- 
 risy of Pharisaism has become the monopoly of 
 the so called Christ. an ci:urc.i, an. I has been 
 dislributCii by anricipalion, witr. li.p s-jerament 
 which priviles;ed marriaee a la mrd-". 
 
 A woman who has become spiritually short- 
 sighted and insensible, through the inlhunco ul 
 her husband, does not see the beam in his ey?, 
 but judges in the bitterest manner the i!i'te ill 
 the tear-moistened eye of one of her own sex, 
 or in the heaven-soaring glance of a man who 
 has never seduced a woman, and whose heart, 
 perhaps, a woman has broken. 
 
 Robert was a pure man, a youth such as^ 
 
 God be thanked ! we find in all nations, and in 
 all parts of the world, as single appearances, 
 who, like so many, by their entrance into the 
 world, deny their nobler nature according to the 
 demands of civilization, and either morally or 
 (like Robert) physically succumb. 
 
 What many may declare to be weakness in 
 Robert, appears to me, on the contrary, aa 
 strength, as the strength of his inalienable loVe; 
 and so much the more disgustingly does the ill 
 usage of the woman stand forth as the return ot 
 such love. It requires certainly the penetration 
 of a psychologist, to recognise in this mi.xture 
 of temper, contradiction, and inconsistency, the
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 363 
 
 Boble being whom Robert originally acknow- 
 ledged as worthy of his love, and who fettered 
 him to herself for ever. These peculiarities of 
 Gracia were undoubtedly the consequences of 
 her social position, and every ill usage of Robert 
 was only an effect of foreign meanness, which 
 she had received within herself. Her state of 
 mind revealed in strong features the disturbing 
 influence, which again in other respects ope- 
 lated destructively on Robert. Gracia not only 
 misunderstood and injured Robert, but the whole 
 male sex, since in Robert she contemned the 
 character and love of a man of honor. But who 
 will raise the veil that covers the sufferings of 
 Gracia ? whose philosophical self-control could 
 only have been exercised at the expense of her 
 heart. This noble female, who revealed herself 
 to her lover in a state of ' magnetic dream-wa- 
 king,' might well shrinlt from herself in the 
 realities of social life, in the arms of a man 
 whom she despised, and if she did not despise 
 him, then how does she appear to us on Robert's 
 brea.st ! 
 
 Who will solve for us the riddle of creation, 
 in the woman who here, in the impulse after 
 love, sported with a human life .' May the un- 
 fortunate be forgiven, for she knew not what 
 she did. 
 
 Robert's death did not so much surprise me, 
 as it would have astonished me if he yet lived. 
 I envy him. It is well for him his sorrows are 
 ended. 
 
 As faithfully as I believe in God and eternity, 
 I believe also in an Eternal Divine Justice, and 
 therefore I fear by no means Robert's awaken- 
 ing, Robert's future existence beyond the grave. 
 I fear not that he should be degraded to an infe- 
 rior existence of a subordinate star, in a state of 
 penitence. Oh no ! I believe in Eternal Justice, 
 who knew him, and his sufferings here upon 
 earth, and who called him away in an hour of 
 despair, to a higher sphere, in his innocence,— 
 as a man, as a sacrifice for the honor of a kin 
 dred soul, suffering like himself, in the form of 
 a woman, here upon earth. 
 
 The more, however, I perceive the decided 
 influence of woman upon the entire develop- 
 ment of the human race, from generation to 
 generation, the more deeply do I feel, from early 
 experience, as well as through observation and 
 similar suffering, the mighty, I might say, the 
 all-embracing influence of woman upon our in- 
 ward nature. I recognise the principle of love 
 not only as the basis of all noble social relations, 
 as far as the development and ennoblement of 
 the human race proceeds from it, but as the 
 basis of all religion. I recognise the social 
 bond of matrimony as the most sacred which 
 can be formed on earth, when it is founded on 
 love. In the opposite case, however, it is an 
 effectual system for the demoralization of the 
 human heart. 
 
 You inform me that Mr. Closting has left 
 behind him the reputation of being an admira 
 ble father of a family, and that his gravestone 
 bears testimony to this quality. It does not 
 surprise meat all, as his wife herself, so far as 
 I know, gave him the name of an ' exemplary 
 husband ' 
 
 Beside the prize question, • What is wo 
 
 man ?" I would place the request for infor 
 
 mation, about the idea of ' husband,' which 
 
 45 
 
 until now I cannot comprehend. The reality 
 shows us all over the world, that neither intel- 
 lect nor heart, neither character nor talent, 
 neither understanding nor sentiment, neither 
 honor nor honesty, are required to make a man 
 pass for * a good, or even an excellent hus- 
 band.' 
 
 Frag/nent of another Letter : 
 
 " As regards myself, I endure the gloomy 
 
 feeling of my earthly existence, as a * fettered in- 
 habitant of a Planet,' in the consciousne.ss of 
 that divine strength which is required by my 
 lot, that burdens me, from pure resignation for 
 the cause of humanity, with a life without love ; 
 rich in injuries and insults, whose expiation no 
 genius in terrestrial form will ever effect. 
 
 I am convinced that the ennoblement of tha 
 human race, under the influence of woman, can 
 only begin when woman, recognising her own 
 dignity and the elevation of her destiny, no 
 more voluntarily sells herself as a slave, to tha 
 dishonoring of her noble nature. 
 
 To man upon earth is given the anticipation 
 of a higher degree beyond the grave, with tha 
 consciousness of his spiritual power: to develop 
 this in the element of moral freedom is our 
 duty, abstractly from the contracted medio- 
 crity of our earthly state, in comparison with 
 the more perfect inhabitants of other planets, 
 less contracted and fettered by clogging matter. 
 
 Man upon earth bears in himself, ' undeniably,' 
 too many peculiarities of the subordinate beings 
 of Mercury and Venus, for the struggle not to 
 be extremely difficult, for him to raise himself 
 upwards to the consciousness of his more ele- 
 vated divine nature, which makes him capable 
 of the transition into tha blessed spheres of 
 eternity. But the harder the struggle, the mora 
 exalted is the victory. Those men in wliom 
 the spiritual life unfolds itself, more or less, 
 through the attraction of the Primitive Idea of 
 existence, encounter the mean gibes of mate- 
 rialists — as the lame, in the country of tha 
 limping, (according to the fable,) mocked and 
 ridiculed the stranger with sound limbs, who 
 was casually brought into their society. 
 
 My individual longing for death, my ' home- 
 sickness after the Astral world,' whose influence 
 upon my existence may appear to many mate- 
 rialists as a ' sublime lunacy,' has been peculiar 
 to my entity from childhood. I cannot recollect 
 an hour of my life in which I have not longed 
 to be away from this earth, upon one or the 
 other of those stars whose rays mysteriously at- 
 tracted me to themselves. 
 
 Let this confession be as sacred to you, as it 
 might appear ridiculous to many, whose judge- 
 ment would, for that matter, be in the highest 
 degree indili'erent to me. 
 
 I believe in God and Humanity, in an eternal 
 progression from degree to degree, and in tha 
 expiation of a loveless life like mine — blighted 
 ill tlie anticipation of love. I believe in recon- 
 ciliation through the principle of Divine Love, 
 from whose source our existence originated." 
 
 In a more recent letter of Thorfin to Hinango, 
 we find several passages, with the enclosure of 
 a poem, which appear important in a psycholo- 
 gical point of view :
 
 354 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 " A3 1 was arransing Robert's papers," writes 
 Thorfin," I found the translation of the poem, 
 ' Astrala's Sentence,' which you transmitted to 
 him when it was already too late to protect him 
 from a fate designated only too truly and fear- 
 fully in this elegy. The portentous poem, with 
 whose origin you yourself are more deeply and 
 intimately acquainted than I am, led me again 
 to serious reflection on the facts from which 
 it is founded, and from which it undoubtedly 
 proceeded. 
 
 It reminds me, as a poem, of Astarte 3 in- 
 vocation in Byron's ' Manfred.' Instead of an 
 imitation, however, it bears, unhappily, the 
 stamp of an unfortunate originality, as the 
 language of an incurably wounded mind, 
 which seeks for such an effusion, as it were, to 
 rescue itself momentarily from despair, to pro- 
 cure alleviation by utterance, without the inten- 
 tion of composing a poem. Originating in such 
 a manner, it is a document for the archives of 
 the higher psychology, and as such, I would 
 desire that it might be preserved. It is a re- 
 newed intimation of a mysterious reality ; --the 
 psychal combination of an image in spiritual 
 unity with a kindred being, which Walter Scott, 
 amonf others, treats of in his work on 'Demon- 
 ology'and Witchcraft,' and which well deserves 
 further research, as a phenomenon in the do- 
 main of psychology. This blending of a beloved 
 image with the inward entity of a man, ' crys- 
 talized, as it were, in the glow of sentiment,^ is 
 solely to be explained as the animatic operation 
 of a powerful strength of mind, as the effect of 
 a mighty Animatic Power upon an other, in the 
 state of magnetic rapport, with more or less 
 consciousness of outward life. 
 
 " It is explicable, that the image of a beloved 
 being, as well in its external form as in its in- 
 terior psychal entity, in such moments of spirit- 
 ual union, is able to impress itself for ever upon 
 tlie kindred soul. 
 
 " It is likewise explicable, that such an im- 
 pression, having become a psychal unity with 
 the kindred soul, will remain behind for ever as 
 an image, in those depths of the invrard life, 
 even when the being, so united, has long since 
 returned from such a state of magnetic crisis to 
 exterior life, and perhaps even lost the clear con- 
 sciousness of the spiritual union. 
 
 Who will be astonished that this transfor- 
 mation or infusion of a being in the entity of 
 another, as a horrible reality, should have been 
 considered, in the unenlightened times of the 
 middle ages, as mysterious. Sorcery and been 
 condemned by blind fanaticism, whose sentence 
 brought people of both sexes to the scaflold, 
 who were, perhaps, unable to account to them- 
 selves for the strength of soul which they so 
 fatallv manifested. , ■ r j 
 
 ' It is in the nature of things, that the infused 
 image exists more vividly in the mind of the 
 unfortunate, the more profoundly his inward 
 life is developed ; and that, on the other hand, 
 Buch a transformation cannot take place in mate- 
 rial natures, more or less stupified or unsuscep- 
 tible of psychal impressions. . , .^ , 
 The more profound, however, the mind that 
 endures such influence, so much the morefearlul 
 its state, which no medicinal remedy, no power 
 on earth, is able to alleviate, except the sympathy 
 01 the same soul which has wrought the evil. 
 
 This frightful state becomes evidently increased 
 by a forced withdrawal, turning away, and es- 
 trangement of the being who, in a crisis of ani- 
 matic magnetic deliverance from the bonds of 
 the earth, has effected this ' sorcery.' 
 
 The latter was evidently the case with Ro- 
 bert, and hastened his end. Gracia, just as un- 
 deniably !:upported by the physical influence of 
 the animal clement, showed in proportion as 
 strong a female inconsistency in suppressing her 
 sympathy for him, as she had once manitested 
 animatic power to fetter him, and this infusion 
 of being, by means of her whole strength of 
 will, (like the operation of a magnetizer,) turned 
 
 ''you envy Robert his death. I understand 
 you, and can only agree with you, as I doubt 
 whether his nervous organization would have 
 granted him similar strength as was manifested 
 by Gabriel Garringos, to bear a lot which was 
 more horrible than death, and not seldom termi- 
 nates in lunacy. Robert's physical disease began 
 with the symptom unhappily but too well known 
 to you, of the oppressive chilling pain at the 
 central point of the nervous texture, (plexus 
 cceliacus,) the organ of clairvoyance in som- 
 nambulism. In hundreds of cases this symptom 
 is mistaken by material physicians for a disease 
 of the stomach, or of the liver, and falsely 
 treated It is not to be denied that the liver 
 mav be indirectly attacked by a reciprocal ope- 
 ration of the interior organs through disease ot 
 the ganglionic texture, but it always depends 
 upon the psychological knowledge of the phy- 
 sician to distingui-sh the cause from the reci- 
 procal effect. „ , . , ». 
 
 I could have treated Robert by magnetism, 
 and perhaps might have rescued him, if tha 
 cause of his illness (by well known distant in- 
 fluence) had not rendered all magnetic treat- 
 ment fruitless beforehand ; for Gracia's physical 
 connexion with the inimical earth magnetic 
 element, wrought just as destructively on Ro- 
 bert, as she thereby powerfully suppressed ner 
 own animatic life. Gracia committed suicide 
 upon her own moral force, and murder upon 
 Robert Her sudden death was a natural con- 
 sequence of the interior and physical disturb- 
 ance, which terminated her unfortunate life m a 
 
 convulsion. l j j j tv„ 
 
 But if her physical nature had endured the 
 convulsion, and she had lived on under the 
 conjugal influence of her husband, (had he 
 likewise been cured,) she would probably have 
 "radually considered her love for Robert as 
 ?an unfortunate nervous disease, that she had 
 happily passed through,' and Robert's death 
 as 'a consequence of a remarkable coincidence 
 of singular circumstances, in which she her- 
 self was the least to be blamed.' Physical 
 unity of her female nature with the foreign 
 element of vulgarity, would in such a case have 
 at last just as naturally entirely overcome her 
 inward life, and destroyed her soul. She would 
 have entered into the number of ' excellent 
 wives,' whom a husband would not have to 
 ' compel' to any performance of duty. 
 
 I send you here Robert's English translation 
 of the designated elegy, as a memorial ol the 
 epoch of his sufferings." 
 
 So far the extract from Dr. Thorfin's iuipor-
 
 Dolores: 
 
 355 
 
 tantletter to Hinango. A3 we here communi- 
 cate the translation of the poem, we will at the 
 same time, satisfy the poetic justice of the novel 
 with respect to Barigaldi's intimation of Hi- 
 nango's state of mind. He was himself author 
 of the elegy, mentioned already in the intercourse 
 between Gracia and Robert. The elegy was the 
 following : 
 
 astrala's sentence.* 
 
 Translated from a Scandinavian Language. 
 
 " Though thy slumber may be deep, 
 Yet thy spirit shall not sleep. 
 There are shades which will not vanish — 
 There are thoughts thou can'st not banish j 
 By a power to thee unknown. 
 Thou shalt never be alone 1" Btron. 
 
 Man ! though from the stars descended, 
 Spirit ! with my spirit blended. 
 Soul ! whose inmost vital ray. 
 Penetrates my shell of clay ; 
 Hearken to my loving verse, 
 Be it blessing, be it curse. 
 
 Where you wander, where you stray, 
 If you hasten or delay ; 
 What you do, or what indite. 
 If you either read or write ; 
 If in armed host you be, 
 • Or for freedom fight on sea. 
 Still alike, by day or night 
 I retain you in my might. 
 
 Where you labor, where you rest, 
 Whate'er thoughts may fill your breast. 
 What you long for, or esteem. 
 Whatsoever you hope or deem ; 
 As a portion of your being, 
 I am near you, seen, unseeing ; 
 In the soul-world's magic round. 
 Self unconsciously I'm bound. 
 
 Though thout wouldst mine image flee, 
 
 Ever near thee 1 shall be, 
 
 Though thou wouldst my glance elude. 
 
 Still on thee it will intrude ; 
 
 As a ray from yonder sphere. 
 
 Still to thee it will appear. 
 
 Like a spirit unannealed, 
 
 Circled by a shell of clay, 
 I am ever to thee sealed. 
 
 And thy longings feed, each day. 
 Me once more in life to see. 
 And unite thyself with me. 
 
 As a soul akin to thee. 
 
 Here to female form confined. 
 Since thy glance has wounded me, 
 
 I my fate accursed find ; 
 By a man to be betrayed. 
 Who can only me degrade ; 
 Who no mind nor soul requires. 
 To supply his sensual fires ; 
 And with hira " one flesh" to be. 
 Makes me terrible to thee. 
 
 • The author of this elegy preserved also his incog- 
 nito. 
 
 t The change of Ihou and you has been a poelic U- 
 eenae of the translator, to maintain the spirit and the 
 OuLiie of this poeiu. 
 
 When you wake, and when you sleep. 
 If you laugh, or if you weep. 
 You must ever see me still. 
 Creature of a husband's will, 
 While to him myself I give. 
 Must this image in you live. 
 
 If you climb the mountain height. 
 
 In the vale the image lies ; 
 To your terror and affright. 
 
 You descend, to see it rise. 
 If you seek, by change of scene, 
 
 From my hapless form to flee, 
 You .shall only find, I ween. 
 
 That your bonds unsevered be. 
 If you turn from me away, 
 I pursue you with the ray. 
 Whose effect controls your powers, 
 la the soul's eternal hours. 
 
 If you on the ocean flee. 
 
 Then the image, to your dread. 
 Lifted on each wave you see, 
 
 In each star-beam o'er your head; 
 And when you, a martyr made. 
 
 Seek from life to haste away. 
 In the flood you see my shade. 
 
 Turn on you its living ray, 
 And th' attempt you dread to dare. 
 Since you still must find me there. 
 
 If for distant climes you sail, 
 
 To a tropic paradise. 
 Ever thine, I shall not fail. 
 
 Still to float before your eyes 
 In your soul I must abide, 
 Though I from myself would hide. 
 That I e'er an oath have made. 
 Left you — wounded and betrayed. 
 
 If you seek the desert dreary. 
 
 Should a savage meet you there. 
 And, when you are faint and weary, 
 
 Offer you his homely fare ; 
 If his eye shall kindly greet you. 
 
 Even then your heart shall feel. 
 That my glances there must meet you, 
 
 That your wound can never heal. 
 Than such desecrated union. 
 
 Sure no suff'ring can be worse. 
 Living without soul's communion. 
 
 Is my horror — and your curse ! 
 
 If you move in worldly throng. 
 There you find me too, ere long. 
 When to solitude you flee. 
 Still you cannot part from me. 
 I pursue you to your grave ; 
 True, to whom my heart I gave ; 
 But, that I have e"er done so. 
 Scarce in outward life I know. 
 
 Should you think in quiet sleep. 
 
 Calm your weary lids to close. 
 
 In your dreams my place I keep. 
 
 And deprive you of repose. 
 When you strive to offer prayer. 
 Tauntingly my form is there. 
 Draws you back by chains of sense. 
 Makes your worship a prelenop, 
 Sinceyour soul, with me allied, 
 E'tn in prayer, has nought beside.
 
 366 
 
 DOLORES. 
 
 If despairing, you essay 
 From this world to speed away, 
 Still shall your expiring gaze, 
 See me through death's filmy haze. 
 
 Thou hadat never, till tliat hour. 
 Known a woman's fearful power ; 
 Love had e'er been strange to thee — 
 Thou didst learn its woes from me ! 
 When athwart thy path I came. 
 And compelled a mutual flame ; 
 Now thy tears may fall for aye. 
 Thou may'st, h'embling, turn away ; 
 Tis I feel that thou art mine. 
 And, to curse thee — I am thine. 
 
 Should'st thou seek thy natal sphere. 
 
 In yon starry worlds on high. 
 Even there 'tis waste and drear. 
 
 Till to join thee I can fly ; 
 Till released from earthly night, 
 
 I from such a curse am freed. 
 By whose dread, mysterious might. 
 
 Both our souls are made to bleed J 
 Till as soul, released once more. 
 To thy stai-ry home I soar. 
 
 What as soul and mind I be. 
 Well I ween, is known to thee ; 
 And what I shall be above. 
 When I meet thy soul in love: 
 But while here, a shell of clay 
 Still detains me far away ; 
 Here, a soul in mortal pain, 
 I'm a woman — to thy bane. 
 
 Hinango replied to his friend, after the receipt 
 of the above translation, among other things, as 
 follows : 
 
 " It was one of about a hundred poems, 
 
 which I called 'the Book of Astrala.' The 
 greater part were committed to the flames, and 
 so was even the original of this elegy, the only 
 one of that collection which any person has ever 
 iread. Even the unfortunate being, whose sym- 
 
 Eathy forced these complaints from my poisoned 
 eart, remains unacquainted with them, as she 
 itcmains unacquainted with my sorrows and my 
 suflferin^s ; with the state of torture, which this 
 elegy not sufficiently designates. 
 
 It was the only woman upon earth that ever 
 declared herself to me in love — the only woman 
 who exercised an influence upon me, for which I 
 have no name — no expressioa. 
 
 The crime of this unfortunate was Marriage 
 without Love ; the curse which she thereby drew 
 upon herself was transmitted to me by her long- 
 ing after love when it was too late. 
 
 In hours of despair, pursued by this image, the 
 genius of Faith holds out to me the chalice of my 
 tears, which I once shed, and which the soul, in 
 female form did not understand. 
 
 You desire to publish the translation of the 
 elegy ; I leave it to you to do so. If it is able to 
 save only a single female from such a lot, and to 
 protect a single man from such a curse, under 
 which I long for death, then shall I not have 
 sufl'ered in vain." 
 
 Such was the language of Hinango's heart, who 
 as a spirit stood higher than his epoch, and as a 
 man was perhaps worthy of the love of a noble 
 being. We have observed him in his position as 
 a man, contending for the cause of iiumanity, 
 and acknowledge, to the honor of the male sex, 
 that neither the magic of a soul, nor the curse of 
 a woman, nor the sentence of death of a tyrant, 
 were ever able to bend or break the force of hiji 
 spirit, the power of his mind. 
 
 Celeste fought for several years in Rio 
 
 Grande, where we have seen him, and ended his 
 manly life in one of the last battles in the year 
 1S43, by which the Brazilian empire temporarily 
 suppressed the spirit of the age in that province, 
 to the great joy of all men of business, who spec- 
 ulate in ox hides and tallow, and to whom rev- 
 olution, and rebellion, and the like, are a horror, 
 as may be easily understood. 
 
 Celeste fell, sword in hand, at the head of a 
 body of cavalry which he commanded, and his 
 last words were the joyous exclamation : 
 
 " Por Dios y Humanidad !" 
 
 The wreck of the schooner Mazzini was, after 
 the formerly described battle, carried in " tri- 
 umph of the empire" to Rio de Janeiro, whera 
 many sons of the ocean from distant ports saw it, 
 and many of the sons of Italy greeted it with 
 three cheers, and (he jubilant exclamation : 
 " Viva Mazzini! Viva la Giovine Italia' 
 Viva I'UmanitaJ" 
 
 Mr. George Thomson purchased as a curiosity 
 the plank from the stern of the captain's boat of 
 the Mazzini, with the inscription : 
 
 " ORA E SEMPRE." 
 
 or THE NOVEL " DOLORES." 
 
 Composed Mny, 1844. Commenced is manuscript, August 1, 1844. Completed in maiuept. October 4, 194S
 
 university otCamo;^^^Y FACILITY 
 
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