<h2 id="id00428" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER VII.</h2>
<p id="id00429" style="margin-top: 2em">Mrs. Murray had informed Edna that the gentleman whom she had engaged
to instruct her resided in the neighboring town of—, and one Monday
morning in August she carried her to see him, telling her, as they
drove along, that he was the minister of the largest church in the
county, was an old friend of her family, and that she considered
herself exceedingly fortunate in having prevailed upon him to consent
to undertake her education. The parsonage stood on the skirts of the
village, in a square immediately opposite the church, and was separated
from it by a wide handsome street, lined on either side with elm trees.
The old-fashioned house was of brick, with a wooden portico jutting out
over the front door, and around the slender pillars twined honeysuckle
and clematis tendrils, purple with clustering bells; while the brick
walls were draped with luxuriant ivy, that hung in festoons from the
eaves, and clambered up the chimneys and in at the windows. The
daily-swept walk leading to the gate was bordered with white and purple
lilies—"flags," as the villagers dubbed them—and over the little gate
sprang an arch of lattice-work loaded with Belgian and English
honeysuckle, whose fragrant wreaths drooped till they touched the heads
of all who entered. When Mrs. Murray and Edna ascended the steps and
knocked at the open door, bearing the name "Allan Hammond," no living
thing was visible, save a thrush that looked out shyly from the
clematis vines; and after waiting a moment, Mrs. Murray entered
unannounced. They looked into the parlor, with its cool matting and
white curtains and polished old-fashioned mahogany furniture, but the
room was unoccupied; then passing on to the library or study, where
tiers of books rose to the ceiling, they saw, through the open window,
the form of the pastor, who was stooping to gather the violets blooming
in the little shaded garden at the rear of the house. A large white cat
sunned herself on the strawberry bed, and a mocking-bird sang in the
myrtle-tree that overshadowed the study-window. Mrs. Murray called to
the minister, and taking off his straw hat he bowed, and came to meet
them.</p>
<p id="id00430">"Mr. Hammond, I hope I do not interrupt you?"</p>
<p id="id00431">"No, Ellen, you never interrupt me. I was merely gathering some violets
to strew in a child's coffin. Susan Archer, poor thing! lost her little
Winnie last night, and I knew she would like some flowers to sprinkle
over her baby."</p>
<p id="id00432">He shook hands with Mrs. Murray, and turning to her companion offered
his hand saying kindly:</p>
<p id="id00433">"This is my pupil, Edna, I presume? I expected you several days ago,
and am very glad to see you at last. Come into the house and let us
become acquainted at once."</p>
<p id="id00434">As he led the way to the library, talking the while to Mrs. Murray,
Edna's eyes followed him with an expression of intense veneration, for
he appeared to her a living original of the pictured prophets—the
Samuel, Isaiah, and Ezekiel, whose faces she had studied in the large
illustrated Bible that lay on a satin cushion in the sitting-room at Le
Bocage. Sixty-five years of wrestling and conquests on the "Quarantma"
of life had set upon his noble and benignant countenance the seal of
holiness, and shed over his placid features the mild, sweet light of a
pure, serene heart, of a lofty, trusting, sanctified soul. His white
hair and beard had the silvery sheen which seems peculiar to
prematurely gray heads, and the snowy mass wonderfully softened the
outline of the face; while the pleasant smile on his lips, the warm,
cheering light in his bright blue eyes, won the perfect trust, the
profound respect, the lasting love and veneration of those who entered
the charmed circle of his influence. Learned without pedantry,
dignified but not pompous, genial and urbane; never forgetting the
sanctity of his mission, though never thrusting its credentials into
notice; judging the actions of all with a leniency which he denied to
his own; zealous without bigotry, charitable yet rigidly just, as free
from austerity as levity, his heart throbbed with warm, tender sympathy
for his race; and while none felt his or her happiness complete until
his cordial congratulations sealed it, every sad mourner realized that
her burden of woe was lightened when poured into his sympathizing ears.
The sage counselor of the aged among his flock, he was the loved
companion of younger members, in whose juvenile sports and sorrows he
was never too busy to interest himself; and it was not surprising that
over all classes and denominations he wielded an influence incalculable
for good.</p>
<p id="id00435">The limits of one church could not contain his great heart, which went
forth in yearning love and fellowship to his Christian brethren and
co-laborers throughout the world, while the refrain of his daily work
was, "Bear ye one another's burdens." So in the evening of a life
blessed with the bounteous fruitage of good deeds, he walked to and
fro, in the wide vineyard of God, with the light of peace, of faith,
and hope, and hallowed resignation shining over his worn and aged face.</p>
<p id="id00436">Drawing Edna to a seat beside him on the sofa, Mr. Hammond said: "Mrs.
Murray has intrusted your education entirely to me; but before I decide
positively what books you will require I should like to know what
particular branches of study you love best. Do you feel disposed to
take up Latin?"</p>
<p id="id00437">"Yes, sir—and—"</p>
<p id="id00438">"Well, go on, my dear. Do not hesitate to speak freely."</p>
<p id="id00439">"If you please, sir, I should like to study Greek also."</p>
<p id="id00440">"Oh, nonsense, Edna! women never have any use for Greek; it would only
be a waste of your time," interrupted Mrs. Murray.</p>
<p id="id00441">Mr. Hammond smiled and shook his head.</p>
<p id="id00442">"Why do you wish to study Greek? You will scarcely be called upon to
teach it."</p>
<p id="id00443">"I should not think that I was well or thoroughly educated if I did not
understand Greek and Latin; and beside, I want to read what Solon and
Pericles and Demosthenes wrote in their own language."</p>
<p id="id00444">"Why, what do you know about those men?"</p>
<p id="id00445">"Only what Plutarch says."</p>
<p id="id00446">"What kind of books do you read with most pleasure?"</p>
<p id="id00447">"History and travels."</p>
<p id="id00448">"Are you fond of arithmetic?"</p>
<p id="id00449">"No, sir."</p>
<p id="id00450">"But as a teacher you will have much more use for mathematics than for<br/>
Greek."<br/></p>
<p id="id00451">"I should think that, with all my life before me, I might study both;
and even if I should have no use for it, it would do me no harm to
understand it. Knowledge is never in the way, is it?"</p>
<p id="id00452">"Certainly not half so often as ignorance. Very well; you shall learn<br/>
Greek as fast as you please. I should like to hear you read something.<br/>
Here is Goldsmith's Deserted Village; suppose you try a few lines;<br/>
begin here at 'Sweet was the sound.'"<br/></p>
<p id="id00453">She read aloud the passage designated, and as he expressed himself
satisfied, and took the book from her hand, Mrs. Murray said:</p>
<p id="id00454">"I think the child is as inveterate a bookworm as I ever knew; but for
heaven's sake, Mr. Hammond, do not make her a blue-stocking."</p>
<p id="id00455">"Ellen, did you ever see a genuine blue-stocking?"</p>
<p id="id00456">"I am happy to be able to say that I never was so unfortunate."</p>
<p id="id00457">"You consider yourself lucky then, in not having known De Stael, Hannah<br/>
More, Charlotte Bronte, and Mrs. Browning?"<br/></p>
<p id="id00458">"To be consistent, of course, I must answer yes; but you know we women
are never supposed to understand that term, much less possess the jewel
itself; and beside, sir, you take undue advantage of me, for the women
you mention were truly great geniuses. I was not objecting to genius in
women."</p>
<p id="id00459">"Without those auxiliaries and adjuncts which you deprecate so
earnestly, would their native genius ever have distinguished them, or
charmed and benefited the world? Brilliant success makes blue-stockings
autocratic, and the world flatters and crowns them; but unsuccessful
aspirants are strangled with an offensive sobriquet, than which it were
better that they had mill-stones tied about their necks. After all,
Ellen, it is rather ludicrous, and seems very unfair, that the whole
class of literary ladies should be sneered at on account of the color
of Stillingfleet's stockings, eighty years ago."</p>
<p id="id00460">"If you please, sir, I should like to know the meaning of
'blue-stocking?'" said Edna.</p>
<p id="id00461">"You are in a fair way to understand it if you study Greek," answered
Mrs. Murray, laughing at the puzzled expression of the child's
countenance.</p>
<p id="id00462">Mr. Hammond smiled, and replied: "A 'blue-stocking,' my dear, is
generally supposed to be a lady, neither young, pleasant, nor pretty
(and in most instances unmarried); who is unamiable, ungraceful, and
untidy; ignorant of all domestic accomplishments and truly feminine
acquirements, and ambitious of appearing very learned; a woman whose
fingers are more frequently adorned with ink-spots than thimble; who
holds housekeeping in detestation, and talks loudly about politics,
science, and philosophy; who is ugly, and learned, and cross; whose
hair is never smooth and whose ruffles are never fluted. Is that a
correct likeness, Ellen?"</p>
<p id="id00463">"As good as one of Brady's photographs. Take warning, Edna."</p>
<p id="id00464">"The title of 'blue-stocking,'" continued the pastor, "originated in a
jest, many, many years ago, when a circle of very brilliant, witty, and
elegant ladies in London, met at the house of Mrs. Vesey, to listen to
and take part in the conversation of some of the most gifted and
learned men England has ever produced. One of those gentlemen,
Stillingfleet, who always wore blue stockings, was so exceedingly
agreeable and instructive, that when he chanced to be absent the
company declared the party was a failure without the blue stockings,'
as he was familiarly called. A Frenchman, who heard of the
circumstance, gave to these conversational gatherings the name of 'bas
bleu,' which means blue stocking; and hence, you see, that in popular
acceptation, I mean in public opinion, the humorous title, which was
given in compliment to a very charming gentleman, is now supposed to
belong to very tiresome, pedantic, and disagreeable ladies. Do you
understand the matter now?"</p>
<p id="id00465">"I do not quite understand why ladies have not as good a right to be
learned and wise as gentlemen."</p>
<p id="id00466">"To satisfy you on that point would involve more historical discussion
than we have time for this morning; some day we will look into the past
and find a solution of the question. Meanwhile you may study as hard as
you please, and remember, my dear, that where one woman is considered a
blue-stocking, and tiresomely learned, twenty are more tiresome still
because they know nothing. I will obtain all the books you need, and
hereafter you must come to me every morning at nine o'clock. When the
weather is good, you can easily walk over from Mrs. Murray's."</p>
<p id="id00467">As they drove homeward, Edna asked:</p>
<p id="id00468">"Has Mr. Hammond a family?"</p>
<p id="id00469">"No; he lost his family years ago. But why do you ask that question?"</p>
<p id="id00470">"I saw no lady, and I wondered who kept the house in such nice order."</p>
<p id="id00471">"He has a very faithful servant who attends to his household affairs.
In your intercourse with Mr. Hammond be careful not to allude to his
domestic afflictions."</p>
<p id="id00472">Mrs. Murray looked earnestly, searchingly at the girl, as if striving
to fathom her thoughts; then throwing her head back, with the haughty
air which Edna had remarked in St. Elmo, she compressed her lips,
lowered her veil, and remained silent and abstracted until they reached
home.</p>
<p id="id00473">The comprehensive and very thorough curriculum of studies now eagerly
commenced by Edna, and along which she was gently and skilfully guided
by the kind hand of the teacher, furnished the mental aliment for which
she hungered, gave constant and judicious exercise to her active
intellect, and induced her to visit the quiet parsonage library as
assiduously as did Horace, Valgius, and Virgil the gardens on the
Esquiline where Maecenas held his literary assize. Instead of skimming
a few text-books that cram the brain with unwieldy scientific
technicalities and pompous philosophic terminology, her range of
thought and study gradually stretched out into a broader, grander
cycle, embracing, as she grew older, the application of those great
principles that underlie modern science and crop out in ever-varying
phenomena and empirical classifications. Edna's tutor seemed impressed
with the fallacy of the popular system of acquiring one branch of
learning at a time, locking it away as in drawers of rubbish, never to
be opened, where it moulders in shapeless confusion till swept out
ultimately to make room for more recent scientific invoices. Thus in
lieu of the educational plan of "finishing natural philosophy and
chemistry this session, and geology and astronomy next term, and taking
up moral science and criticism the year we graduate," Mr. Hammond
allowed his pupil to finish and lay aside none of her studies; but
sought to impress upon her the great value of Blackstone's aphorism:
"For sciences are of a sociable disposition, and flourish best in the
neighborhood of each other; nor is there any branch of learning but may
be helped and improved by assistance drawn from other arts."</p>
<p id="id00474">Finding that her imagination was remarkably fertile, he required her,
as she advanced in years, to compose essays, letters, dialogues, and
sometimes orations, all of which were not only written and handed in
for correction, but he frequently directed her to recite them from
memory, and invited her to assist him, while he dissected and
criticised either her diction, line of argument, choice of metaphors,
or intonation of voice. In these compositions he encouraged her to seek
illustrations from every department of letters, and convert her theme
into a focus, upon which to pour all the concentrated light which
research could reflect, assuring her that what is often denominated
"far-fetchedness," in metaphors, furnished not only evidence of the
laborious industry of the writer, but is an implied compliment to the
cultured taste and general knowledge of those for whose entertainment
or edification they are employed—provided always said metaphors and
similes really illustrate, elucidate, and adorn the theme
discussed—when properly understood.</p>
<p id="id00475">His favorite plea in such instances was, "If Humboldt and Cuvier, and
Linnaeus, and Ehrenberg have made mankind their debtors by scouring the
physical cosmos for scientific data, which every living savant devours,
assimilates, and reproduces in dynamic, physiologic, or entomologic
theories, is it not equally laudable in scholars, orators, and
authors—nay, is it not obligatory on them, to subsidize the vast
cosmos of literature, to circumnavigate the world of belles-lettres, in
search of new hemispheres of thought, and spice islands of
illustrations; bringing their rich gleanings to the great public mart,
where men barter their intellectual merchandise? Wide as the universe
and free as its winds should be the range of human mind."</p>
<p id="id00476">Yielding allegiance to the axiom that "the proper study of mankind is
man," and recognizing the fact that history faithfully epitomizes the
magnificent triumphs and stupendous failures, the grand capacities and
innate frailties of the races, he fostered and stimulated his pupil's
fondness for historic investigation; while in impressing upon her
memory the chronologic sequence of events he not only grouped into
great epochs the principal dramas, over which Clio holds august
critical tribunal, but so carefully selected her miscellaneous reading,
that poetry, novels, biography, and essays reflected light upon the
actors of the particular epoch which she was studying; and thus through
the subtle but imperishable links of association of ideas, chained them
in her mind.</p>
<p id="id00477">The extensive library at Le Bocage, and the valuable collection of
books at the parsonage, challenged research, and, with a boundless
ambition, equalled only by her patient, persevering application, Edna
devoted herself to the acquisition of knowledge, and astonished and
delighted her teacher by the rapidity of her progress and the vigor and
originality of her restless intellect.</p>
<p id="id00478">The noble catholicity of spirit that distinguished Mr. Hammond's
character encouraged her to discuss freely the ethical and
psychological problems that arrested her attention as she grew older,
and facilitated her appreciation and acceptance of the great fact, that
all bigotry springs from narrow minds and partial knowledge. He taught
her that truth, scorning monopolies and deriding patents, lends some
valuable element to almost every human system; that ignorance,
superstition, and intolerance are the red-handed Huns that ravage
society, immolating the pioneers of progress upon the shrine of
prejudice—fettering science—blindly bent on divorcing natural and
revealed truth, which "God hath joined together" in holy and eternal
wedlock; and while they battle a l'outrance with every innovation, lock
the wheels of human advancement, turning a deaf ear to the thrilling
cry;</p>
<p id="id00479">"Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, and the
thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns."</p>
<p id="id00480">If Carlyle be correct in his declaration that "Truly a thinking man is
the worst enemy the prince of darkness can have, and every time such a
one announces himself there runs a shudder through the nether empire,
where new emissaries are trained with new tactics, to hoodwink and
handcuff him," who can doubt that the long dynasty of Eblis will
instantly terminate, when every pulpit in Christendom, from the frozen
shores of Spitzbergen to the green dells of Owhyhee, from the shining
spires of Europe to the rocky battlements that front the Pacific, shall
be filled with meek and holy men of ripe scholarship and resistless
eloquence, whose scientific erudition keeps pace with their evangelical
piety, and whose irreproachable lives attest that their hearts are
indeed hallowed temples of that loving charity "that suffereth long and
is kind; that vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up; thinketh no evil;
beareth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things?"</p>
<p id="id00481">While Christ walked to and fro among the palms and poppies of
Palestine, glorifying anew an accursed and degraded human nature,
unlettered fishermen, who mended their nets and trimmed their sails
along the blue waves of Galilee, were fit instruments, in his guiding
hands, for the dissemination of his Gospel; but when the days of the
Incarnation ended, and Jesus returned to the Father, all the learning
and the mighty genius of Saul of Tarsus were required to confront and
refute the scoffing sophists who, replete with philhellenic lore, and
within sight of the marvellous triglyphs and metopes of the Parthenon,
gathered on Mars Hill to defend their marble altars to the Unknown God.</p>
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