The Knight Of The Golden Melice, John Turvill Adams [the reading list TXT] 📗

Model Of Perfection Which They Fondly Imagined They Had

Discovered. 

Introductory Chapter

And Where Should They Find That Perfect System, Except In

The Awful And Mysterious Volume Wherein Was The Revelation Of God's

Will, And Which, With A Devotion That Had Impressed Its Every Syllable

On Their Minds, They Had Day And Night Been Studying? Was There Not

Contained Therein A Form Of Government Which He Had Given To His

Favored People; And What Did Both Reason And Piety Suggest But To

Accommodate It To Their Circumstances? All Things Favored The

Undertaking. They Were At Too Great A Distance To Be Easily Molested

By Their Enemies: The Distracted Condition Of The Government At Home

Afforded Little Opportunity For A Strict Supervision Of Their Affairs;

And The Few Savages In Their Neighborhood Left By The Devastating

Pestilence Wherewith Providence Had Swept The New Canaan, In Order To

Make Room For Them, They Soon Found Powerless Before The Terror Of

Their Fire-Arms. By Excluding All Whom It Was Their Pleasure To Call

Lewd And Debauched, Or, In Other Words, Who Differed From Them In

Opinion, From Participation In The Government, They Expected To Avoid

Confusion, And Secure The Blessing Of Heaven. It Is Absurd To Suppose

That Human Pride, And Ambition, And Avarice Did Not Intrude Into These

Visions Of A Reign Of The Saints On Earth, But Unquestionably Notions

Like These Exerted A Strong Influence. They Established Their

Commonwealth Upon Their Theocratic Model, And Commenced The

Experiment.

  

 

Soon, In Logical And Honest Sequence With The Principles Which They

Professed, Followed A System Of Persecution Rivaling That Of Which

They Complained In England. To Be True To Themselves And Creed, They

Were Obliged To Adopt It. We May Do As We Please; We May Say That The

Fanatical Notion, The Horrid Erinnys, The Baleful Mother Of Woes

Innumerable, That The Dogmas Of Religion May Rightfully Be Enforced By

The Sword Of The Civil, Power, Dominated The World, And In This Way

Account For Their Conduct; Or Apologize For It By The Necessities Of

Their Situation, And The Peculiarities Of Their Creed; Or Combine

These Causes, And So Extenuate What Cannot Be Defended.

  

 

I Can Well Understand How A Puritan Of 16--Would Justify His Rigor.

His Opinion Of Himself Would Be Like That Of The Amiable Governor

Winthrop, As Found In His First Will, (Omitted, However, In His

Second,) As One "Adopted To Be The Child Of God, And An Heir Of

Everlasting Life, And That Of The Mere And Free Favor Of God, Who Hath

Elected Me To Be A Vessel Of Glory." Such Was The Puritan In His Own

Eyes. He Was The Chosen Of Heaven. He Had, For The Sake Of The Gospel,

Abandoned His Country And The Comforts Of Civilization, To Erect (In

The Language Of Scripture Which He Loved To Use) His Ebenezer In The

Wilderness. He Wanted To Be Let Alone. He Invited Not Papists Or

English Churchmen, Or Any Who Differed In Opinion From Him, To Throw

In Their Lots With His. They Would Only Be Obstacles In His Way,

Jarring-Strings In His Heavenly Antique-Fashioned Harp. Away With The

Intruders! What Right Had They To Molest Him With Their Dissenting

Presence? The Earth Was Wide: Let Them Go Somewhere Else. They Would

Find More Congenial Associates In The Virginia Colony. He Would Have

No Achans To Breed Dissension In His Camp. With Bold Heart And Strong

Hand Would He Cast Them Out. His Was The Empire Of The Saints; An

Empire, Not To Be Exercised With Feebleness And Doubt, But With Vigor

And Confidence.

 

Chapter I (Come On, Sir! Now You Set Your Foot On Shore, _In Novo Orbe_.)

It Is Obvious That A Very Wide Difference Existed Between The

Characters Of The Two Colonies. The Cavalier, Sparkling And Fiery As

The Wines He Quaffed, The Defender Of Established Authority And Of The

Divine Right Of Kings, Was The Antithesis Of The Abstemious And

Thoughtful Religionist And Reformer, Dissatisfied With The Present,

Hopeful Of A Better Future, And Not Forgetful That It Was In Anger God

Gave The Israelites A King.

  

 

Meanwhile The Roman Catholics Had Not Been Idle. Their Devoted

Missionaries, Solicitous To Occupy Other Regions Which Should More

Than Supply The Deficiency Occasioned By The Protestant Defection, And

Confident Of The Final Triumph Of A Church, Out Of Whose Pale They

Believed Could Be No Salvation, Had Scattered Themselves Over The

Continent, And With Marvellous Energy And Self-Sacrifice, Were

Extending Their Influence Among The Natives. No Boundaries Can Be

Placed To The Visions Of The Enthusiastic Religionist. His Strength Is

The Strength Of God. No Wonder, Then, That The Roman Catholic Priest

Should Cherish Hopes Of Rescuing The Entire New World From Heresy,

Which He Considered Worse Than Heathenism, And Should Enlist All His

Energies In So Grand A Cause. It Is Almost Certain That Extensive

Plans Were Formed For The Accomplishment Of This Object.

  

 

Such Were The Elements Which The Seething Caldron Of The Old World

Threw Out Upon The New. A Part Only Of The Materials Furnished By

These Elements Have I Used In Framing This Tale. It Is An Attempt To

Elucidate The Manners And Credence Of Quite An Early Period, And To

Explain With The License Accorded To A Romancer, Some Passages In

American History.

  

 

Thus Much Have I Thought Proper To Premise. It Is Impossible To Judge

Correctly Of The Men Of Any Age, Without Taking Into Consideration The

Circumstances In Which They Were Placed, And The Opinions That

Prevailed In Their Time. To Apply The Standard Of This Year Of Grace,

1856, To The Religious Enlightenment Of More Than Two Hundred Years

Ago, Would Be Like Measuring One Of Gulliver's Lilliputians By

Gulliver Himself. I Trust That The World Has Since Improved, And That

Of Whatever Passing Follies We May Be Guilty, We Shall Never

Retrograde To The Old Narrow Views Of Truth. If Mankind Are Capable Of

Being Taught Any Lesson, Surely This Is One--That Persecution Or

Dislike For Opinion Sake Is A Folly And An Evil, And That We Best

Perform The Will Of Him To Whom We Are Commanded To Be Like, Not By

Contracting Our Affections Into The Narrow Sphere Of Those Whose

Opinions Harmonize With Ours, But By Diffusing Our Love Over His

Creation Who Pronounced It All "Very Good."

Chapter II (A Gentle Knight Was Pricking On The Plaine.)

 

 

 

  Spencer.

 

 

On The Morning Of A Fine Day, A Fortnight After The Occurrences Above

Narrated, A Horseman Was Riding Over The Neck, Or Narrow Strip Of

Marshy Ground, Which Connects The Peninsula On Which Boston Is

Situated With The Main Land. The Rider Was A Tall, Handsome Man, Of

Apparently Some Thirty-Five Years Of Age, Who Sat On His Steed And

Handled The Reins With A Practiced Grace, As If The Saddle And Himself

Were Familiar Acquaintances. Under A Broad-Brimmed, Slouched Hat, Fell

Curls Of Dark Hair, Down The Sides Of An Oval Though Rather Thin Face,

Embrowned By Exposure To The Weather. The Nose Was Curved Like The

Beak Of An Eagle, The Eyes Bright And Wild As Those Of The Royal Bird,

And A Close Beard Curled Over The Face, Including The Upper Lip, The

Bold Yet Sweet Expression Of Which It Did Not Conceal.

  

 

The Dress Of The Cavalier Was In The Fashion Of The Times, Though

Sobered Down, Either For The Purpose Of Attracting Less Attention, Or

Out Of Deference To The Customs Of The People He Was Among. A Close

Fitting Doublet Or Jerkin, Of Black Velvet, Over Which Was Thrown A

Light Cloak Of The Same Color, But Of Different Material, And A

Falling Collar, Shaped Somewhat Like Those In Vandyke's Portraits,

Edged With A Narrow Peccadillo Or Fringe Of Lace, Ornamented The Upper

Part Of His Person; His Hands And Wrists Were Protected By Long Gloves

Or Gauntlets, Reaching Half Way Up To The Elbow, And Opening Wide At

The Top; Russet-Colored Boots Expanded At The Aperture And Garnished

With Spurs Reached High Up The Legs, And A Small Cut And Thrust Sword,

Suspended By A Belt, Which Was Also Russet-Colored, Hung At His Side.

The Handle Of The Sword Was Exquisitely Beautiful, Worthy Of Being The

Work Of Cellini Himself. It Was Mostly Of Massive Gold, The Hilt

Smooth And Shining, And The Guard Embossed With A Variety Of Elegant

Devices. But The Part Which First Arrested Attention And Attracted The

Most Admiration Was The Head, Whereupon Was Sculptured A Gigantic

Honey-Bee, With Wings Expanded, As If About To Fly From Its Perch; The

Eyes Were Sparkling Diamonds, The Body Was Composed Of Different

Colored Metals, In Imitation Of Life--And The Whole So Cunningly

Wrought, That It Seemed A Living Bee About To Mount Into The Air. The

Man Rode And Looked As If Not Anticipating, And Incapable Of Fearing

Danger, Carelessly Glancing Round, While The Noble Animal He Bestrode,

As If He Had Caught The Spirit Of His Rider, Stepped High And

Gallantly Along. But In Truth There Was Little Or No Danger, The White

Settlers Being, At The Time, At Peace With The Neighboring Indian

Tribes.

  

 

It Was A Mere Bridle-Path The Horseman Was Following, Which Wound

About In Various Directions, In Order To Avoid Marshy Ground, Or

Trunks Of Trees, Or Other Obstacles, And Appeared To Be Perfectly

Familiar To The Horse, Who Trotted On Without Any Guidance From His

Rider. As For The Latter, As If To Beguile The Tediousness Of The Way,

He Would Pat At One Moment The Neck Of His Dumb Companion, And Address

A Few Words To Him, And At The Next, Break Out Into Snatches Of Song.

Thus He Proceeded Until He Emerged From The Woods, And An Open Space,

The Site Of The Future City Of Boston, Once The Cornfields Of Warlike

Tribes, Mysteriously Removed By Pestilence, In Order As To The Excited

Imaginations Of The Early Settlers It Seemed, To Make Room For The

Fugitives, Lay Spread Before Him.

  

 

The Rider Stopped His Horse, And For Some Moments Sat In Silence

Gazing On The Scene. From The Eminence, To Whose Top He Had Ridden,

Declined Before Him The Sloping Hills, On Whose Sides Open Cultivated

Spaces Were Interspersed With Woods. On The Waters' Edge, For The Most

Part, Were Scattered The Houses Of The Colonists, The Majority Of Them

Rude Huts, Made Of Unhewn Logs, With Here And There A Frame Building,

Or A Brick Or Stone House Of Less Humble Pretensions, While Beyond,

Rolled The Sparkling Waves Of The Bay, Sprinkled With "A Great Company

Of Islands, Whose High Cliffs Shoulder Out The Boisterous Seas," As

The Old Chronicler Wood Expresses It, And Rocking A