第9章

Now that they have kindled the bonfire, if these nonsensical reformerswould fling themselves into it, all would be well enough!""Be patient," responded a staunch conservative; "it will come tothat in the end. They will first fling us in, and finally themselves."From the general and systematic measures of reform, I now turned toconsider the individual contributions to this memorable bonfire. Inmany instances these were of a very amusing character. One poor fellowthrew in his empty purse, and another a bundle of counterfeit orinsolvable bank notes. Fashionable ladies threw in their last season'sbonnets, together with heaps of ribbons, yellow lace, and much otherhalf-worn milliner's ware; all of which proved even more evanescent inthe fire than it had been in the fashion. A multitude of lovers ofboth sexes- discarded maids or bachelors, and couples mutually wearyof one another- tossed in bundles of perfumed letters and enamoredsonnets. A hack politician, being deprived of bread by the loss ofoffice, threw in his teeth, which happened to be false ones. TheRev. Sydney Smith- having voyaged across the Atlantic for that solepurpose- came up to the bonfire with a bitter grin, and threw incertain repudiated bonds, fortified though they were with the broadseal of a sovereign state. A little boy of five years old, in thepremature manliness of the present epoch, threw in his playthings; acollege graduate, his diploma; an apothecary, ruined by the spreadof homoeopathy, his whole stock of drugs and medicines; a physician,his library; a parson, his old sermons; and a fine gentleman of theold school, his code of manners, which he had formerly written downfor the benefit of the next generation. A widow, resolving on a secondmarriage, slily threw in her dead husband's miniature. A young man,jilted by his mistress, would willingly have flung his own desperateheart into the flames, but could find no means to wrench it out of hisbosom. An American author, whose works were neglected by the public,threw his pen and paper into the bonfire, and betook himself to someless discouraging occupation. It somewhat startled me to overhear anumber of ladies, highly respectable in appearance, proposing to flingtheir gowns and petticoats into the flames, and assume the garb,together with the manners, duties, offices, and responsibilities, ofthe opposite sex.

What favor was accorded to this scheme, I am unable to say; myattention being suddenly drawn to a poor, deceived, and half-deliriousgirl, who, exclaiming that she was the most worthless thing alive ordead, attempted to cast herself into the fire, amid all that wreckedand broken trumpery of the world. A good man, however, ran to herrescue.

"Patience, my poor girl!" said he, as he drew her back from thefierce embrace of the destroying angel. "Be patient, and abideHeaven's will. So long as you possess a living soul, all may berestored to its first freshness. These things of matter, and creationsof human fantasy, are fit for nothing but to be burnt, when oncethey have had their day. But your day is eternity!""Yes," said the wretched girl, whose frenzy seemed now to have sunkdown into deep despondency; "yes, and the sunshine is blotted out ofit!"It was now rumored among the spectators that all the weapons andmunitions of war were to be thrown into the bonfire, with theexception of the world's stock of gunpowder, which, as the safest modeof disposing of it, had already been drowned in the sea. Thisintelligence seemed to awaken great diversity of opinion. Thehopeful philanthropist esteemed it a token that the millennium wasalready come; while persons of another stamp, in whose view mankindwas a breed of bull-dogs, prophesied that all the old stoutness,fervor, nobleness, generosity, and magnanimity of the race woulddisappear; these qualities, as they affirmed, requiring blood fortheir nourishment. They comforted themselves, however, in the beliefthat the proposed abolition of war was impracticable, for any lengthof time together.

Be that as it might, numberless great guns, whose thunder hadlong been the voice of battle- the artillery of the Armada, thebattering-trains of Marlborough, and the adverse cannon of Napoleonand Wellington- were trundled into the midst of the fire. By thecontinual addition of dry combustibles, it had now waxed so intensethat neither brass nor iron could withstand it. It was wonderful tobehold how these terrible instruments of slaughter melted away likeplaythings of wax. Then the armies of the earth wheeled around themighty furnace, with their military music playing triumphantmarches, and flung in their muskets and swords. Thestandard-bearers, likewise, cast one look upward at their banners, alltattered with shot-holes, and inscribed with the names of victoriousfields, and, giving them a last flourish on the breeze, they loweredthem into the flame, which snatched them upward in its rush toward theclouds. This ceremony being over, the world was left without asingle weapon on in its hands, except, possibly, a few old king's armsand rusty swords, and other trophies of the Revolution, in some of ourstate armories. And now the drums were beaten and the trumpetsbrayed all together, as a prelude to the proclamation of universal andeternal peace, and the announcement that glory was no longer to be wonby blood; but that it would henceforth be the contention of thehuman race to work out the greatest mutual good, and that beneficence,in the future annals of the earth, would claim the praise of valor.

The blessed tidings were accordingly promulgated, and causedinfinite rejoicings among those who had stood aghast at the horror andabsurdity of war.