The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 11, No. 68, June, 1863: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
Science
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 11, No. 68, June, 1863: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
"It is of much more matter than you think," said Colonel Prowley, sadly.
"For the 'Regulator,' which appears to-morrow, goes to press this
afternoon. Strype don't like to have it known, as it lessens the
interest of the 'Latest Intelligence' column; but I happened to find it
out some time ago."
"Then we are worsted indeed," I cried. "His eagerness is well explained;
for, of course, any strictures he might make, on hearing the exercises
this evening, would be useless for his purpose."
"A _critique_ of the performance, purporting to come from an impartial
auditor, will be printed in a thousand 'Regulators' before you open your
lips in our Town Hall," said the Colonel, bitterly.
I knew for the first time that stinging indignation felt by all decent
aspirants for public favor upon encountering the underhand knavery which
dims the lustre of democratic politics. It is not the blunt, open abuse,
my young republican, which you will find galling,--but the contemptible
meanness of dastards who have not mettle enough to be charlatans. For an
instant my blood ran fiery hot; I grasped my cane, and for a moment had
an impulse to fly after Strype and favor him with an assault-and-battery
case for his despicable journal. But the passion was speedily over; for,
upon reflection, I saw that no real injury could be done me with those
who witnessed the success I confidently expected. And--it is awkward to
acknowledge it--I nearly regained my former complacency when my wife
whispered that Strype had declared to her that Professor Owlsdarck had
come upon a bootless errand; for the Wrexford Trustees would never
provide their Academy with so dark and gloomy a Principal, though he
carried the Astor Library in his head. Do not mistake the encouragement
I derived from this announcement: there was in it not the slightest
ill-will to the distinguished antiquary, but only a comfortable
appreciation of my own sagacity in putting it out of the power of any
mischievous person to oppose my election on similar grounds.
Soon after this I proposed to Kate to go to the arbor at the end of the
garden, and hear, once more, the sensation-passages of my poem, to the
end that I might be certain that all the proprieties of pause and
emphasis we had agreed upon were fresh in my memory. It turned out that
there was just time to do this satisfactorily before the bell rang for
dinner. And I felt greatly relieved, when, upon reëntering the house, I
closed the bothering production for the last time, and left it--where I
could not fail to remember it--with my hat and gloves upon the
entry-table.
You are apt to catch people in their freshness at a one o'clock dinner.
Full of the half-finished schemes of the morning, they have much more
individuality than at six. For, the work of the day fairly over, the
clergyman, the merchant, the lawyer, and the doctor subside to a level
of decent humanity, and leave out the salient contrasts of breeding
which are worth noting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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