Part 18
Late one afternoon the clouds assumed a still more friendly and welcome shape. A long, purple, irregular range of them rose up from the horizon in the northwest, exactly stimulating distant mountains. The sun sank behind them, and threw out great spokes of light as from behind my native Catskills. Then gradually a low, wooded shore came into view along their base. It proved to be a fog-bank lying low upon the water, but it copied exactly, in its forms and outlines, a flat, umbrageous coast. You could see distinctly where it ended, and where the water began. I sat long on that side of the ship, and let my willing eyes deceive themselves. I could not divest myself of the comfortable feeling inspired by the prospect. It was to the outward sense what dreams and reveries are to the inward. That blind, instinctive love of the land,--I did not know how masterful and involuntary the impulse was, till I found myself warming up toward that phantom coast. The empty void of the sea was partly filled, if only with a shadow. The inhuman desolation of the ocean was blotted out for a moment, in that direction at least. What phantom-huggers we are upon sea or upon land! It made no difference that I knew this to be a sham coast. I could feel its friendly influence all the same, even when my back was turned.
In summer, fog seems to lie upon the Atlantic in great shallow fleeces, looking, I dare say, like spots of mould or mildew from an elevation of a few miles. These fog-banks are produced by the deep cold currents rising to the surface, and coming in contact with the warmer air. One may see them far in advance, looking so shallow that it seems as if the great steamer must carry her head above them. But she does not quite do it. When she enters this obscurity, there begins the hoarse bellowing of her great whistle. As one dozes in his berth or sits in the cabin reading, there comes a vague impression that we are entering some port or harbor, the sound is so welcome, and is so suggestive of the proximity of other vessels. But only once did our loud and repeated hallooing awaken any response. Everybody heard the answering whistle out of the thick obscurity ahead, and was on the alert. Our steamer instantly slowed her engines and redoubled her tootings. The two vessels soon got the bearing of each other, and the stranger passed us on the starboard side, the hoarse voice of her whistle alone revealing her course to us.
Late one afternoon, as we neared the Banks, the word spread on deck that the knobs and pinnacles of a thunder-cloud sunk below the horizon, and that deeply and sharply notched the western rim of the sea, were icebergs. The captain was quoted as authority. He probably encouraged the delusion. The jaded passengers wanted a new sensation. Everybody was willing, even anxious, to believe them icebergs, and some persons would have them so, and listened coldly and reluctantly to any proof to the contrary. What we want to believe, what it suits our convenience, or pleasure, or prejudice, to believe, one need not go to sea to learn what slender logic will incline us to believe. To a firm, steady gaze, these icebergs were seen to be momently changing their forms, new chasms opening, new pinnacles rising: but these appearances were easily accounted for by the credulous; the ice mountains were rolling over, or splitting asunder. One of the rarest things in the average cultivated man or woman is the capacity to receive and weigh evidence touching any natural phenomenon, especially at sea. If the captain had deliberately said that the shifting forms there on the horizon were only a school of whales playing at leap-frog, all the women and half the men among the passengers would have believed him.
In going to England in early May, we encountered the fine weather, the warmth and the sunshine as of June, that had been "central" over the British Islands for a week or more, five or six hundred miles from shore. We had come up from lower latitudes, and it was as if we had ascended a hill and found summer at the top, while a cold, backward spring yet lingered in the valley. But on our return in early August, the positions of spring and summer were reversed. Scotland was cold and rainy, and for several days at sea you could in the distance hardly tell the sea from the sky, all was so gray and misty. In mid-Atlantic we ran into the American climate. The great continent, basking there in the western sun, and glowing with midsummer heat, made itself felt to the centre of this briny void. The sea detached itself sharply from the sky, and became like a shield of burnished steel, which the sky surrounded like a dome of glass. For four successive nights the sun sank clear in the wave, sometimes seeming to melt and mingle with the ocean. One night a bank of mist seemed to impede his setting. He lingered a long while partly buried in it, then slowly disappeared as through a slit in the vapor, which glowed red-hot, a mere line of fire, for some moments afterward.
As we neared home the heat became severe. We were going down the hill into a fiery valley. Vast stretches of the sea were like glass bending above the long, slow heaving of the primal ocean. Swordfish lay basking here and there on the surface, too lazy to get out of the way of the ship:--
"The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters played."
Occasionally a whale would blow, or show his glistening back, attracting a crowd to the railing. One morning a whale plunged spitefully through the track of the ship but a few hundred yards away.
But the prettiest sight in the way of animated nature was the shoals of dolphins occasionally seen during these brilliant torrid days, leaping and sporting, and apparently racing with the vessel. They would leap in pairs from the glassy surface of one swell of the steamer across the polished chasm into the next swell, frisking their tails and doing their best not to be beaten. They were like fawns or young kine sporting in a summer meadow. It was the only touch of mirth, or youth and jollity, I saw in the grim sea. Savagery and desolation make up the prevailing expression here. The sea-fowls have weird and disconsolate cries, and appear doomed to perpetual solitude. But these dolphins know what companionship is, and are in their own demesne. When one sees them bursting out of the waves, the impression is that school is just out; there come the boys, skipping and laughing, and, seeing us just passing, cry to one another: "Now for a race! Hurrah, boys! We can beat 'em!"
One notices any change in the course of the ship by the stars at night. For nearly a week Venus sank nightly into the sea far to the north of us. Our course coming home is south-southwest. Then, one night, as you promenade the deck, you see, with a keen pleasure, Venus through the rigging dead ahead. The good ship has turned the corner; she has scented New York harbor, and is making straight for it, with New England far away there on her right. Now sails and smoke-funnels begin to appear. All ocean paths converge here: full-rigged ships, piled with canvas, are passed, rocking idly upon the polished surface; sails are seen just dropping below the horizon, phantom ships without hulls, while here and there the black smoke of some steamer tarnishes the sky. Now we pass steamers that left New York but yesterday; the City of Rome--looking, with her three smoke-stacks and her long hull, like two steamers together--creeps along the southern horizon, just ready to vanish behind it. Now she stands in the reflected light of a great white cloud which makes a bright track upon the water like the full moon. Then she slides on into the dim and even dimmer distance, and we slide on over the tropic sea, and, by a splendid run, just catch the tide at the moment of its full, early the next morning, and pass the bar off Sandy Hook without a moment of time or an inch of water to spare.
INDEX
Alloway, 8, 133-134, 160.
Anemone. _See_ Rue-anemone.
Angler, an English, 83-85.
Anglo-Saxon, the, 45.
Annan, 72.
Annan bridge, 68, 69.
Ants, 178-181.
Arbutus, trailing, 164, 172, 173.
Arethusa, 172.
Argyll, Duke of, on the comparative merits of British and American song-birds, 113-116, 119.
Arnold, Matthew, quotations from, 78, 169, 212.
Arthur's Seat, 48, 49.
Ash, 19.
Asters, 196.
Audubon, John James, 123, 124.
Avon, the Scottish river, 39.
Ayr, 46.
Azaleas, 173.
Barrington, Dames, 119, 126, 138.
Bean, horse _or_ Winchester, 169.
Bear, black (_Ursus americanus_), 186.
Bee. _See_ Bumblebee _and_ Honey-bee.
Beech, European, 18, 19, 40, 41, 97.
Beetle, ants and, 179, 180.
Beetle, Colorado, 194.
Ben Lomond, 24.
Ben Nevis, 25.
Ben Venue, 23, 24, 155.
Birds, blue not a common color among British, 93; voices of British, 105, 142; source of the charm of their songs, 113; the Duke of Argyll on the comparative merits of British and American song-birds, 113-116; the American bird-choir larger and embracing more good songsters than the British, 119-129; British more familiar, prolific, and abundant than American, 125, 126; superior vivacity and strength of voice in British, 126; hours and seasons of singing of British and American, 126, 127, 143; superior sweetness, tenderness, and melody in the songs of American, 128, 143-145; the two classes of British song-birds, 142, 143; certain localities favored by, 144; British more prolific than American, 189, 190; warm and compact nests of British, 190; abundance of British, 190-192.
Blackberry, 18, 52, 168.
Blackbird, European, song of, 86, 90, 105, 114, 129, 136, 139, 145; nest of, 66.
Blackbird, red-winged. _See_ Starling, red-shouldered.
Blackcap, _or_ black-capped warbler, 87, 92; song of, 105, 115, 123, 129, 137, 140.
Bloodroot, 172.
Bluebell. _See_ Hyacinth, wild.
Bluebird (_Sialia sialis_), notes of, 120, 123, 129.
Blue-bonnet, 189.
Blue-weed, _or_ viper's bugloss, 168, 171.
Bobolink (_Dolichonyx oryzivorus_), song of, 118, 120, 123, 125, 129.
Bob-white. _See_ Quail.
Bouncing Bet, 171.
Boys, at Ecclefechan, 64-66; a Godalming boy, 92-95.
Bridges, arched, 68, 69.
Brig o' Doon, 26.
Britain. _See_ Great Britain.
Bryant, William Cullen, as a poet of the woods, 43.
Bugloss, viper's. _See_ Blue-weed.
Building-stone, softness of British, 26.
Bullfinch, notes of, 129.
Bumblebee, 17-19, 195.
Bunting, indigo. _See_ Indigo-bird.
Burns, Robert, the Scotch love of, 48; quotation from, 135, 225.
Buttercup, 16, 165, 196.
Calopogon, 172.
Campion, bladder, 171.
Canterbury, 10, 11; the cathedral of, 11-13.
Cardinal. _See_ Grosbeak, cardinal.
Carlyle, James, father of Thomas Carlyle, 55, 59, 60, 69-71, 73.
Carlyle, Mrs. James, 55, 61.
Carlyle, Jane Baillie Welsh, 221-223.
Carlyle, Thomas, quotations from, 25, 49, 50, 58, 60, 61, 71, 73, 75, 204, 206-209, 211, 215-217, 219, 223-226, 228-232, 234, 236-238, 240, 241, 246-248, 251, 254-259, 266; residences of, 49-51, 54, 55; the grave of, 56, 57; at the graves of his father and mother, 57, 58; his reverence and affection for his kindred, 58; his family traits, 58, 59; his love of Scotland, 59, 60; his affection for his mother, 61; an old road-mender's opinion of, 67; his style, 71, 75; his connection with Irving, 72; an indomitable worker, 73-75; his house in Chelsea, 199, 200; a call on, 200-202; on Scott, 201, 202; his correspondence with Emerson, 203, 204, 208-210; his friendship with Emerson, 203, 204; compared and contrasted with Emerson, 203-210, 212; his magnanimous wrathfulness, 203, 204; a man of action, 207; a regal and dominating man, 211, 212; as an historical writer, 213, 214; his power of characterization, 214, 215; his vocabulary of vituperation, 216, 217; not a philosopher, 217, 218; his struggle against odds, 218-220; his unselfishness, 220, 221; his relations with his wife, 221-223; his passion for heroes, 223-226, 232-234; his glorification of the individual will, 226; his earnestness, 227; a master portrait-painter, 228-232; the value he set on painted portraits, 232; his hatred of democracy, 232-251; his large capital of faith, 251-253; his religious belief, 251-257; his attitude of renunciation, 255, 256; his search for the truth, 256, 257; his egoism, 258; value of his teaching, 258-266; his isolation of soul, 262-264; his mission, 265; his _Oliver Cromwell_, 211, 212; his _Frederick the Great_, 211-217, 242.
Carlyle family, the, 56-61, 67, 70, 71.
Catbird (_Galeoscoptes carolinensis_), notes of, 117, 120, 125, 129.
Cathedrals, Canterbury, 11-13; images in, 15; soil collected on the walls of, 21; Rochester, 21; St. Paul's, 182.
Catskill Mountains, contrasted with the mountains of Scotland, 7; scenery in, 38; the valleys of, 149.
Cattle, of the Scotch Highlands, 25.
Cedar-bird, _or_ cedar waxwing (_Ampelis cedrorum_), notes of, 115.
Celandine, 172.
Celts, the, 45.
Chaffinch, or shilfa, 133, 134, 191; song of, 79, 90, 95, 129, 133, 134; nest of, 65, 190.
Chat, yellow-breasted (_Icteria virens_), 117; song of, 117, 120, 125.
Chewink, _or_ towhee (_Pipilo erythrophthalmus_), notes of, 118, 120, 125, 129.
Chickadee (_Parus atricapillus_), notes of, 129.
Chiffchaff, notes of, 95, 143.
Chipmunk (_Tamias striatus_), 195.
Chippie. _See_ Sparrow, social.
Cicada, _or_ harvest-fly, 194, 195.
Cinquefoil, 17.
Claytonia, _or_ spring beauty, 164, 172.
Clematis, wild, 17.
Clouds, in England, 107; at sea, 269-273.
Clover (_Trifolium incarnatum_), 93, 169.
Clover, red, 16, 52.
Clover, white, 16, 17, 165.
Clover, yellow, 16.
Clyde, the, sailing up, 2-7.
Cockscomb, 160.
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, quotation from, 166, 167, 228.
Coltsfoot, 170.
Columbine, 38, 173.
Commons, in England, 104.
Convolvulus, 19.
Copses, in England, 82.
Cormorants, 189.
Corn-crake, notes of, 132.
Cow-bunting, _or_ cowbird (_Molothrus ater_), notes of, 125.
Cranesbill, 53.
Creeper, European brown, 189.
Crow, carrion, 193.
Cuckoo (_Coccyzus_ sp.), notes of, 127.
Cuckoo, European, 65; notes of, 77, 78, 95, 123, 138, 148.
Curlew, European, 107; notes of, 141.
Daffodils, 165, 172.
Daisy, English, 52, 159, 160, 196.
Daisy, ox-eye, 160, 165, 196.
Dalibarda, 164.
Dandelion, 16, 165.
Danton, Georges Jacques, 229.
Darwin, Charles, 31, 32.
Dead-nettle, 161.
Democracy, Carlyle's opinion of, 232-251.
De Quincey, Thomas, 230.
Desmoulins, Camille, 229.
Devil's Punch-Bowl, the, 88.
Dicentra, 38, 164, 172.
Dickens, Charles, 231.
Dock, sorrel (_Rumex acetosa_), 170.
Docks, 171.
Dog-fish, 188.
Dolphins, 274, 275.
Doon, the, 46, 132, 134, 161, 162.
Dover, the cliffs of, 13, 14.
Ducks, wild, 186.
Eagle, 187, 188.
Earthworm, as a cultivator of the soil, 31, 32.
Easing, 94, 103.
Ecclefechan, 39; the journey from Edinburgh to, 49-55; in the village and churchyard of, 55-58, 61-64; birds'-nesting boys of, 64-66; walks about, 67-72; the "dogfight," 67.
Edinburgh, 48, 49, 178.
Edward, Thomas, 187, 188.
Elder, English, 10.
Elecampane, 171.
Elm, English, 19, 97.
Emerson, Ralph Waldo, as a poet of the woods, 43, 44; quotations from, 43, 44, 102, 176, 210, 213, 214, 218, 221; statement on fields, 53; his friendship with Carlyle, 203, 204; compared and contrasted with Carlyle, 203-210, 212; his correspondence with Carlyle, 203, 204, 208-210, 225.
England, tour in, 9; walks in, 9-20; the green turf of, 20-23, 29, 31, 32; building-stone of, 26; humanization of nature in, 27, 28; repose of the landscape in, 29-34; foliage in, 29-31; cultivated fields of, 32, 33; grazing in, 33; the climate as a promoter of greenness, 33, 34; pastoral beauty of, 35, 36; lack of wild and aboriginal beauty in, 36, 37; no rocks worth mentioning in, 37; woods in, 38-43; plowing in, 53, 54; country houses and village houses in, 62, 63; haying in, 80, 108, 109, 153; a farm and a farmer in the south of, 77, 80, 81; sunken roads of, 94, 95; inns of, 96, 97, 100-103; sturdiness and picturesqueness of the trees in, 97; commons in, 104; weather of, 106, 107; the bird-songs of, compared with those of New York and New England, 113-129; impressions of some birds of, 131-145; stillness at twilight in, 194, 195. _See_ Great Britain.
English, the, contrasted with the Scotch, 45; a prolific people, 176-178.
Europe, animals and plants of, more versatile and dominating than those of America, 184-186.
Farming in the south of England, 80, 81.
Fells, in the north of England, 158.
Fern, maiden-hair, 173.
Fieldfare, 186.
Finch, purple (_Carpodacus purpureus_), song of, 118, 120, 123, 129.
Finches, songs of, 122, 123.
Fir, Scotch, 39.
Flicker. _See_ High-hole.
Flowers, wild, American more shy and retiring than British, 163, 164, 196; species fewer but individuals more abundant in Great Britain than in America, 165; effect of latitude on the size and color of, 168; effect of proximity to the sea on, 168, 169; British less beautiful but more abundant and noticeable than American, 172, 173; British and American sweet-scented, 173; abundance of British, 196.
Flycatcher, British, 121, 189.
Flycatcher, great crested (_Myiarchus crinitus_), notes of, 118, 121.
Flycatcher, little green or green-crested (_Empidonax virescens_), notes of, 121.
Fog, at sea, 271, 272.
Foliage, in England and America, 29-31. _See_ Trees.
Footpath, an English, 89, 90.
Forget-me-not, 196.
Fox, European red, 187, 188.
Foxglove, 90, 133, 148, 165; a beautiful and conspicuous flower, 166; in poetry, 166, 167, 196.
Frederick the Great, 242.
Frogs, 194.
Froude, James Anthony, his _Thomas Carlyle_, 258, 259.
Furze, _or_ whin, 169, 170.
Gannets, 189.
Garlic, hedge, 172.
Geranium, wild, 168.
Gillyflower, 162.
Glasgow, 2, 8, 9, 46, 47, 72.
Globe-flower, 162.
Goat Fell, 6.
Godalming, 89, 91, 92, 101, 102.
Goethe, 225, 227.
Goldenrod, 18, 196.
Goldfinch, American (_Spinus tristis_), notes of, 118, 120, 122, 123, 129.
Goldfinch, European, 140; song of, 122, 129, 140.
Goose, solan, 189.
Grasmere, 148-151.
Grasshoppers, 194.
Graves, "extinct," 70, 71.
Great Britain, wild flowers of, 159-174, 196; species less numerous than in America but individuals more abundant, 164, 165; weeds in, 170, 171; prolific life of, 175-197. _See_ England, Scotland, _and_ Wales.
Greenfinch, _or_ green linnet, 140; notes of, 18, 86, 129, 140.
Greenock, Scotland, 3, 4.
Grosbeak, blue (_Guiraca cœrulea_), song of, 123.
Grosbeak, cardinal, _or_ cardinal (_Cardinalis cardinalis_), song of, 92, 123.
Grosbeak, rose-breasted (_Habia ludoviciana_), notes of, 118, 120, 123, 129, 144, 145.
Grote, George, 231.
Ground-chestnut. _See_ Pig-nut.
Grouse, 186.
Grouse, ruffed (_Bonasa umbellus_), 39.
Gudgeon, 94.
Gulls, European, 175, 186, 189.
Haggard falcon, 14.
Hairbird. _See_ Sparrow, social.
Hamilton, Duke of, his parks, 39, 40, 193.
Hanger, the, 40, 41, 104.
Harbledown hill, 11, 12.
Hare, European, 23, 188, 194.
Harebell, 168.
Harvest-fly. _See_ Cicada.
Hawk, 186.
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 44.
Haymaking in England, 80, 108, 109, 153.
Hazlemere, 89.
Heather, 170.
Hedgehog, 19.
Hedge-sparrow, 65; notes of, 129; nest of, 65.
Hellebore, green, 172.
Helvellyn, 153-156.
Hepatica, 172.
Herb Robert, 18, 163.
Herring, on the coast of Scotland, 188, 189.
High-hole, _or_ flicker (_Colaptes auratus_), notes of, 118, 120.
Hitchin, 109, 110.
Honey-bee, 185.
Honeysuckle, wild, 90.
House-martin, _or_ martlet, _or_ window-swallow, 142; notes of, 142; nest of, 69, 142.
Hummingbird, ruby-throated (_Trochilus colubris_), notes of, 115.
Hunt, Leigh, 230.
Hyacinth, wild, _or_ bluebell, 163, 172, 196.
Hyla, 194.
Indigo-bird, _or_ indigo bunting (_Passerina cyanea_), song of, 120, 123, 127, 129.
Inns, English, 96, 97, 100-103.
Insects, music of, 194, 195.
Ireland, the peat of, 1.
Irving, Edward, 72, 227.
Jackdaw, 12, 186; notes of, 142.
Jay, British, 93, 98; notes of, 142.
Jewel-weed, 173.
Johnson, Samuel, 225.
Junco, slate-colored. _See_ Snowbird.
Katydids, 194.
Keats, John, quotations from, 111, 166.
Kent, walks in, 9-14.
Kingbird (_Tyrannus tyrannus_), notes of, 118, 121, 127.
Kinglet, European golden-crested, _or_ golden-crested wren, 121, 189; song of, 140.
Kinglet, golden-crowned, _or_ golden-crowned wren (_Regulus satrapa_), song of, 121.
Kinglet, ruby-crowned (_Regulus calendula_), 122; song of, 121, 122.
Lady's-slipper, 172.
Lake district, the, 148-158.
Lake Mohunk, 37.
Lamb, Charles, 228.
Lapwing, or pewit, 141; cry of, 107.
Lark. _See_ Skylark _and_ Wood-lark.
Lark, grasshopper, notes of, 127.
Leechmere bottom, 103-105.
Lichens, in America and in England, 36, 37.
Linnet, English, song of, 122, 123, 129.
Linnet, green. _See_ Greenfinch.
Liphook, 106, 107.
Live-for-ever, 171.
Lockerbie, 52.
London, streets above streets in, 178; overflowing life of, 181, 182; a domestic city, 182, 183.
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 44.
Loosestrife, purple, 168.
Maidstone, 10.
Mainhill, 54, 55.
Maple, European, 30, 31, 173.
Marigold, corn, 173.
Martin, purple (_Progne subis_), 125; notes of, 129.
Martlet. _See_ House-martin.
Mavis. _See_ Thrush, song.
Meadowlark (_Sturnella magna_), notes of, 118, 120, 129.
Meadow-sweet, 17, 169.
Medeola, 164.
Midges, 98.
Mill, John Stuart, 229, 230.
Milton, John, quotations from, 42.
Mirabeau, Comte de, 228, 229.
Mockingbird (_Mimus polyglottos_), song of, 127-129.
Moschatel, 172.
Mountains, of Scotland, 6, 7, 21-25; of the Lake district, 153-158.
Mouse, European field, 186.
Mullein, 171.
Mustard, wild, 171.
Nettle, 18, 20, 160, 161.
Nettle, Canada, 161.
Newt, red, 39.
Nightingale, a glimpse of, 99; at the head of a series of British song-birds, 142, 143; notes of, 77-79, 87, 89, 92, 96, 99, 102, 110, 111, 114, 116, 123, 124, 128, 129, 140, 145.
Nightjar, notes of, 84.
Nuthatch, European, 140, 189.
Oak, English, 19, 97.
Ocean, the, voyage across, 267-269; clouds, 269-273; fog, 271, 272; the weather, 273, 274; animal life, 274, 275; the end of the voyage, 275, 276.
Orchids, purple, 168.
Oriole, Baltimore (_Icterus galbula_), notes of, 118, 120, 125, 129.
Oriole, orchard, _or_ orchard starling (_Icterus spurius_), song of, 120, 125.
Otter, 187.
Ousel, ringed, 24.
Ousel, water, 149, 150.
Oven-bird. _See_ Wagtail, wood.
Owl, 188.
Pansy, wild, 65.
Partridge, European, 186; nest of, 186.
Peat, 1.
Pewee, wood (_Contopus virens_), notes of, 39, 121.
Pewit. _See_ Lapwing.
Phœbe-bird (_Sayornis phœbe_), notes of, 121.
Pig-nut, _or_ ground-chestnut, 162, 163.
Pine, white, 173.
Pipit, American, _or_ titlark (_Anthus pensilvanicus_), song of, 129.
Pipit, meadow, nest and eggs of, 162, 189.
Pipit, mountain, 24.