Their fortunes do not strongly
interest one, though the "Sculpin"--the patriotic, deformed Bostonian,
with his great-great-grandmother's ring (she was hanged for a witch)--is
a very original and singular creation. The real interest lies in the
wit, wisdom, and learning. The wit, now and then, seems to-day rather in
the nature of a "goak." One might give examples, but to do so seems ill-
natured and ungrateful.
There are some very perishable puns. The learning is not so _recherche_
as it appeared when we knew nothing of Cotton Mather and Robert Calef,
the author of a book against the persecution of witches. Calef, of
course, was in the right, but I cannot forgive him for refusing to see a
lady, known to Mr. Mather, who floated about in the air. That she did so
was no good reason for hanging or burning a number of parishioners; but,
did she float, and, if so, how? Mr. Calef said it would be a miracle, so
he declined to view the performance. His logic was thin, though of a
familiar description. Of all old things, at all events, Dr. Holmes was
fond. He found America scarcely aired, new and raw, devoid of history
and of associations. "The Tiber has a voice for me, as it whispers to
the piers of the Pons AElius, even more full of meaning than my
well-beloved Charles, eddying round the piles of West Boston Bridge." No
doubt this is a common sentiment among Americans.
Occasionally, like Hawthorne, they sigh for an historical atmosphere, and
then, when they come to Europe and get it, they do not like it, and think
Schenectady, New York, "a better place.
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