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  CHAPTER XXIX.

  Cities humming with a restless crowd Sordid as active, ignorant as loud, Whose highest praise is that they live in vain, The dupes of pleasure, or the slaves of gain.

  COWPER.

  We have a little anticipated the order of events for the purpose ofpresenting more clearly the details of the story, it being after thedeparture of the Solitary and Pownal that some of them occurred. Thefavorable wind for which the packet Calypso had waited for two orthree days at last came, and with a flowing sheet the good sloop spedover the waters of the Severn.

  The means of communication between Hillsdale and the commercialcapital were very different in those days from the present. Insteadof the fine steamboats and railroad cars, which now connect thetwo places, the mode of travelling was by sailing vessels and stagecoaches. The latter were the surer--but not the more popular. In thewintry months, when the navigation of the river was unimpeded by ice,the condition of the roads was such that, in spite of the drearinessof water transit, at that season, the packets were able to maintaina fair rivalship with the coaches, while, in the summer, the latterstood but little chance in the competition, but were almost entirelydeserted. To this result the comfortable cabins of the coasters,designed for passengers (spacious and satisfactory for those times,however the refined effeminacy of the present generation might sneerat them), and the good fare they furnished, not a little contributed.The Calypso was one of the finest of the line of packets to which shebelonged, and provided with every convenience that could be desired.She was a sloop of some ninety or one hundred tons, with a tall mast,that, to the timid eye of a landsman, seemed fitter for a vessel oftwice her size, and when her enormous mainsail was raised and usualsail set, she looked more like one of those birds whose wings bearsuch a disproportion to the body, that in the contemplation we forgetto what they are attached, than like a safe and sea-worthy craft. Butthe shipwright who laid her keel and shaped her ribs, knew what he wasabout, and the Calypso was as staunch and stiff as she was handsome.Her cabin extended full one-half the length of the vessel, and bymeans of a raised quarter deck, was conveniently high between joints,so that even the tallest man ran no risk of striking his head. True,it was not embellished with gilding, and mahogany, and satinwood, butthe paint was virgin white, the state-rooms commodious, the berthswide, and the bedding and linen scrupulously clean. Captain Standishprided himself upon the comfort and propriety of his craft, and thegood reputation he enjoyed and deserved. The length of the passagevaried according to the state of the winds and tides. It might, underthe most favorable circumstances, be made in less than twenty-fourhours, and it might last a week. It was at a period of the world'sexistence, before steam and electricity had imparted a feverishimpatience to the community, and men did not hurry as if they had nottime enough to live.

  But let it not be thought, that it is as one who peevishly resents theimprovements made in mechanical and other departments of knowledge, wedwell upon these particulars. We are quite awake to the fact that theworld turns round, and although the consequence is an alternationof light and darkness, are satisfied with the change. With thephilosopher Pangloss we would rather believe, "_dans ce meilleur desmondes possible_," than to entertain any less cheerful opinion. No.It is rather to perpetuate the remembrance of what has been, or toqualify more truthfully and modestly the expression, to save it for amoment longer from oblivion. It is with a melancholy pleasure thatone who has reached that stage of the journey of life, from whichhenceforth his progress can only be one of continued descent towardsthe valley whereon broods the cloud not untouched with rays ofdivine light, reverts to whatever, even though they may seem trifles,characterized the beginning of his career. Ah! it was the breaking ofthe morning. For a time the sky glowed with a deepening glory, to fadeat last into the "light of common day." We never can, we never wouldforget that lovely dawning.

  Holden, nothing doubting, was confident that the voyage wouldterminate for him in the restoration to his arms, of the son whomhe had mourned as one dead. Nor did he seem to have a doubt of theworthiness of the long lost treasure. A hope, brilliant and beautiful,that glorified whatever it touched, had taken absolute possession ofhim. It would admit no fear, no uncertainty, no despondency. The newfeeling penetrated all departments of his mind, and mixed itself upwith and colored even his religious speculations. He began toconnect, in some way, the realization of his awakened hopes withthe millennium, of which it was to be a forerunner. This appearedespecially on the second day of the voyage, which lasted three days.

  It was a warm, bright afternoon in the latter part of the month ofMay, just before the setting of the sun, and Holden and Pownalhad walked to the bow of the vessel, as if to be nearer the goldenluminary when he should sink from sight. A gentle breeze filled thesails of the Calypso, the soft murmur from under whose cutwater seemedto testify to the delight with which she moved on her liquid way. Forsome time Holden had stood with folded arms, watching the sun, as byslow degrees he sunk into the waves. Pownal, himself, was thrillinglyalive to the magnificence of earth, and sky, and ocean, and all fairforms and hues of nature, and noticing the exalted and rapt expressionof his elder friend's face, and sympathizing in the influence thatproduced it, was in no mood to break the silence.

  "Type of the Infinite," at last Pownal heard him say, "how haveI loved to watch thy coming and departure! Chariot of fire, whoseburning wheels support the throne of judgment, thy course is onwarduntil the fullness of the time is come. Of man's impatience thoureckest not. With thee a thousand years are as a day."

  He ceased speaking, and a total silence for some time succeeded. Hiseyes continued fixed upon the spot where the sun had disappeared, butthey saw nothing. An interior struggle was going on which engrossedthe faculties, and left no opportunity for the observation of externalobjects. Repeatedly he passed his hand over his eyes and forehead,pressing the palm forcibly, as if to concentrate the attention, and atlength he addressed Pownal.

  "The scoffers have long sat in the gate, and lolled out the tongue andcried aha! but of a surety the time draweth nigh. Because He delayeth,where, say they, is the promise of His coming? But doth a sparrow fallto the ground without His knowledge, and are not ye of more valuethan many sparrows, oh, ye of little faith? Shall not the sorrows offathers move the heart of the universal Father?"

  It is scarcely to be expected that the young man entirely understoodthe rhapsody of Holden, though familiar with his moods. He saw,however, it had some connection with the one idea that had masteredall others, leaving them, notwithstanding, at perfect liberty, exceptso far as they interfered with itself. For it cannot have escapedobservation, that on all subjects but one Holden exercised an ordinarydegree of judgment, a circumstance by no means singular in the caseof persons affected with monomania. Pownal, therefore, did as hewas accustomed, avoiding all contradiction, and falling in with theother's thoughts.

  "That," said Pownal, "it seems to me, is the worthiest name that canbe given to the Supreme Being."

  "It is the worthiest and the dearest. Thou, young man, canst knownothing of the emotions of a father's heart. Couldst thou look intoits abysses of tenderness a new world would be revealed to thee,of which now thou only dreamest. Not a drop of blood that wandereththrough its channels, but would coin itself into a joy for thebeloved. But what is human love to His, the Creator of love? A breath,a bubble, a sigh. One great heart comprehendeth in its embrace allhearts. Look around thee," he added, throwing up his arms, "and beholdthe evidence: yon blue vault filled with bright worlds, bright becausethey are happy; this vast ocean teeming with strange life; the greenearth whence, as from an altar, the perfume of grateful flowers andchants of praising birds do ceaselessly arise. Young man, be thankfuland adore."

  Holden stopped, as if he expected a reply, and Pownal therefore said:

  "I am not, I fear, sufficiently thankful for the favors ofProvidence."

  "'Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth,'" pursued the oldman. "How many evils had I esca
ped had I heeded the advice I give!But it is the old tale of human folly. The aged with his experience iscounted for nothing. My son," he added impressively, laying his handon Pownal, "behold these furrows on a withered face. They are thetraces of unrestrained passion. I forgot my Creator in the days of myyouth."

  He turned and walked away, but presently retraced his steps and tookup the train of thought he seemed to have dropped.

  "But he forgot not me. His mercies are over all his works. Even when Iwas a great way off my Father saw me, and had compassion, and ran, andfell on my neck, and kissed me. And now will he put the best robe uponme, and a ring upon my finger, and shoes upon my feet."

  Such was the excited and hoping condition of Holden's mind as thevessel approached the port of New York, which it reached the nextmorning. Although then a place of great trade, and giving indubitablepromise of what it has since become, New York was far, very far fromapproaching its present splendor and magnificence, which entitle it tovie with the most brilliant capitals of the world. Even then the shipsof all nations were to be found at its wharfs, but the taper mastsrising into the sky, formed not a cordon so immense as that which now,like a forest stripped of its leaves, girts it round. Nor from evenits most fashionable portions, the residence and resort of the wealthyand the gay, had all the humbler buildings, which belonged to itsorigin, disappeared. Alongside of the modern brick, or occasionallystone mansion of four stories, that style of architecture, dear yet tothe heart of a genuine Knickerbocker of which Holland boasts, if notthe invention, at least the perfectioning, reared its pointed gable,and rose like Jacob's ladder with parapeted roof into the sky. Butslightly injured by weather in a climate singularly clear and pure,under a sky untarnished by the dismal clouds from bituminous coalfires, which enshroud less favored lands, the brave little Dutchbricks held their own with a sturdiness becoming their ancestry. Thosemonuments of a simpler age have almost disappeared, and the ingenuitythey exhibited, and the taste of which they were the specimens, arelikely soon to be remembered only as steps in the worlds pupilage.

  But, however the fashions of man may change, the grand features ofnature remain eternal. Beautifully bright then as now sparkled inthe light of the May morning sun, the waves of that glorious bay,unrivalled but by one, while little boats and pinnaces darting aboutin all direction like sea-birds, gave animation to a scene, whichwithout the accompaniment would have possessed peculiar interest toone who, like Holden, had lived so long in seclusion. As the vesselturned around Castle Garden to seek her berth in the North River,and his eyes ran over the islands and Jersey shore, and up the noblestream, and one by one he recognized the objects he had seen in hisyouth, it seemed as if feelings, supposed dead, were coming to life,and nature re-assuming the gala garb which she once wore.

  But, independent of the causes that made the scene peculiarlyattractive to our traveller, it is impossible to approach a large cityafter a long absence without excitement. The aggregation of a mass ofhuman beings full of life, and instinct with its hopes, and fears,and joys, and sorrows, and passions, acts like a stimulus. Nature isbeautiful, and art glorious, but the object of deepest interest toman is man himself. In his fellow beings he sees reflected his owninterior world, a world of mystery and marvel, whence any news iswelcome that will impart information respecting its light and shade,its harmonies and discords. He cannot stand outside, a looker-on,separate and apart, having no portion therein: he is in it and of it,an integral atom, a something which cannot be isolated if it would.

  The packet, after some delay, occasioned by the occupation of herberth by a casual trader, was finally able, by advancing one vessel,and pushing another back, and shoving a third on one side, to approachthe wharf at the foot of Courtlandt street, and land her passengers.A coach was presently procured, and Holden, who had been invitedby Pownal, accompanied his young friend. The distance up Courtlandtstreet, and down Broadway to the house of the elder Pownal, whichwas near the Battery, was short, and therefore even had thecarriage proceeded more leisurely, and the Recluse been disposedto observation, he could have seen but little, and that in anunsatisfactory manner. Pownal felt some curiosity respecting theimpression which would be made by the turmoil of a large city upon onewho for so many years had excluded himself from the crowded haunts ofmen, and therefore watched his companion with no little interest;but Holden, as if he divined his thoughts, and was displeased at thediscovery, or for some other unknown reason, betrayed no change offeeling, or conduct, but was as impassive and indifferent to allpassing around him as if he were in his own hut. So far from showingany emotion, he threw himself into a corner of the carriage, and shuthis eyes as if desirous to exclude objects of which he was regardless,or which only annoyed him. The young man knew not exactly how tointerpret the other's conduct, but was too much accustomed to hishabits to feel surprise, and respected him too greatly to desire tointrude into anything he wished to conceal.

  The carriage stopped before a fine, large brick mansion, worthy of amerchant prince, fronting the Battery, and, of course, commanding aview through the trees which shaded the greensward of that beautifulspot, of the blue water, and islands, and the Jersey shore sweepingaway in the distance. Fashion, always capricious in her movements, hasdeserted the lower part of Broadway and the Battery, by far the mostcharming quarter of the city, to emigrate to a part of the island onwhich New York is built, more remote from the marts of trade. Immensewarehouses occupy the sites where once stood the abodes of eleganceand hospitality, and the chaffer of traffic has succeeded to socialwelcomes and greetings of conviviality.

  The black servant who came to the door at the ringing of the bell,stared with astonishment at the unusual figure of Pownal's companion,but if disposed, as is the habit of his class, to be deficient inrespect to one not bearing the conventional stamp, a glance of theyoung man's eye, and his marked deference toward the stranger, to saynothing of the latter's natural air of authority, soon restored hiscourtesy and usual obsequious attention. It was, therefore, with agracious expression of countenance and polite bow, that Mr. Johnsonushered the two gentlemen into the parlor.

  "Where is Mr. Pownal, Johnson?" inquired the young man.

  "He is out of town, sir, with the whole family. I believe he went toAlbany, sir."

  "Is Mrs. Corning in the house?"

  "Mrs. Corning is just come back from market, sir. I heard her voiceonly a minute ago."

  "Say, I would like to speak to her."

  In a few moments, Mrs. Corning, the housekeeper, a respectable-lookingwoman, of some forty-five years of age, made her appearance, andtestified a hearty pleasure at seeing the young man, whom she kissedwith great affection, and by whom she was received with every mark ofregard.

  The family, she said, in reply to the questions of Pownal, had beenabsent, at Albany, where they were, on a visit to some relatives, forthree weeks, but were daily expected home. She was _so_ sorry theywere absent. They were all well, and would be so glad to see himlooking so well. She thought she had never seen him looking better.There was nothing like country air to paint the cheeks.

  Pownal thought this a good opportunity to commend his friend to thefavorable consideration of the housekeeper, and said--

  "That I am well, I probably owe to the kindness of this gentleman,who will remain with us during my stay in town," at the same time,introducing Holden to the lady.

  "Your friends, Mr. Thomas," said Mrs. Corning, courtesying to Holden,"will always be welcome in this house. But, tell me, have you beensick?--I'm sure, you don't look so--or some accident, or"----

  "I will tell you all about it, by-and-by. At present, a cup ofcoffee."

  "My! what a thoughtless creature I am!" exclaimed Mrs. Corning. "Thepleasure of seeing you again, put all idea of breakfast out of mymind. I never thought of asking, if you had had any. But, it shan't belong before that mistake shall be remedied."

  So saying, good Mrs. Corning bustled out of the room, on hospitablethoughts intent, and, in a short time, the substantial comforts of
an American breakfast were smoking on the board. Pownal partook of itwith the liberal appetite of high health and youth sharpened by hislittle voyage, while Holden himself, though in far greater moderation,was not unmindful of the viands before him. His achievements, however,did not seem to satisfy the housekeeper, who vainly pressed herdelicacies upon him, and who, subsequently, after a more thoroughobservation of his character at meals, expressed her wonder, toPownal, whether the effect of a long beard was not to diminish theappetite!