THE EXPERIENCES OF THE A. C.

Bridgeport! Change cars for the Naugatuck Railroad!" shouted the
conductor of the New York and Boston Express Train, on the evening
of May 27th, 1858. Indeed, he does it every night (Sundays
excepted), for that matter; but as this story refers especially to
Mr. J. Edward Johnson, who was a passenger on that train, on the
aforesaid evening, I make special mention of the fact. Mr.
Johnson, carpet-bag in hand, jumped upon the platform, entered the
office, purchased a ticket for Waterbury, and was soon whirling in
the Naugatuck train towards his destination.

On reaching Waterbury, in the soft spring twilight, Mr. Johnson
walked up and down in front of the station, curiously scanning the
faces of the assembled crowd. Presently he noticed a gentleman who
was performing the same operation upon the faces of the alighting
passengers. Throwing himself directly in the way of the latter,
the two exchanged a steady gaze.

"Is your name Billings?" "Is your name Johnson?" were
simultaneous questions, followed by the simultaneous exclamations--
"Ned!" "Enos!"

Then there was a crushing grasp of hands, repeated after a pause,
in testimony of ancient friendship, and Mr. Billings, returning to
practical life, asked--

"Is that all your baggage? Come, I have a buggy here: Eunice has
heard the whistle, and she'll be impatient to welcome you."

The impatience of Eunice (Mrs. Billings, of course,) was not of
long duration, for in five minutes thereafter she stood at the door
of her husband's chocolate-colored villa, receiving his friend.

While these three persons are comfortably seated at the tea-table,
enjoying their waffles, cold tongue, and canned peaches, and asking
and answering questions helter-skelter in the delightful confusion
of reunion after long separation, let us briefly inform the reader
who and what they are.

Mr. Enos Billings, then, was part owner of a manufactory of metal
buttons, forty years old, of middling height, ordinarily quiet and
rather shy, but with a large share of latent warmth and enthusiasm
in his nature. His hair was brown, slightly streaked with gray,
his eyes a soft, dark hazel, forehead square, eyebrows straight,
nose of no very marked character, and a mouth moderately full, with
a tendency to twitch a little at the corners. His voice was
undertoned, but mellow and agreeable.

Mrs. Eunice Billings, of nearly equal age, was a good specimen of
the wide-awake New-England woman. Her face had a piquant smartness
of expression, which might have been refined into a sharp
edge, but for her natural hearty good-humor. Her head was smoothly
formed, her face a full oval, her hair and eyes blond and blue in
a strong light, but brown and steel-gray at other times, and her
complexion of that ripe fairness into which a ruddier color will
sometimes fade. Her form, neither plump nor square, had yet a
firm, elastic compactness, and her slightest movement conveyed a
certain impression of decision and self-reliance.

As for J. Edward Johnson, it is enough to say that he was a tall,
thin gentleman of forty-five, with an aquiline nose, narrow face,
and military whiskers, which swooped upwards and met under his nose
in a glossy black mustache. His complexion was dark, from the
bronzing of fifteen summers in New Orleans. He was a member of a
wholesale hardware firm in that city, and had now revisited his
native North for the first time since his departure. A year
before, some letters relating to invoices of metal buttons signed,
"Foster, Kirkup, & Co., per Enos Billings," had accidentally
revealed to him the whereabouts of the old friend of his youth,
with whom we now find him domiciled. The first thing he did, after
attending to some necessary business matters in New York, was to
take the train for Waterbury.

"Enos," said he, as he stretched out his hand for the third cup of
tea (which he had taken only for the purpose of prolonging the
pleasant table-chat), "I wonder which of us is most changed."

"You, of course," said Mr. Billings, "with your brown face and
big mustache. Your own brother wouldn't have known you if he had
seen you last, as I did, with smooth cheeks and hair of unmerciful
length. Why, not even your voice is the same!"

"That is easily accounted for," replied Mr. Johnson. "But in your
case, Enos, I am puzzled to find where the difference lies. Your
features seem to be but little changed, now that I can examine them
at leisure; yet it is not the same face. But, really, I never
looked at you for so long a time, in those days. I beg pardon; you
used to be so--so remarkably shy."

Mr. Billings blushed slightly, and seemed at a loss what to answer.

His wife, however, burst into a merry laugh, exclaiming--

"Oh, that was before the days of the A. C!"

He, catching the infection, laughed also; in fact Mr. Johnson
laughed, but without knowing why.

"The `A. C.'!" said Mr. Billings. "Bless me, Eunice! how long it
is since we have talked of that summer! I had almost forgotten
that there ever was an A. C."

"Enos, COULD you ever forget Abel Mallory and the beer?--or that
scene between Hollins and Shelldrake?--or" (here SHE blushed the
least bit) "your own fit of candor?" And she laughed again, more
heartily than ever.

"What a precious lot of fools, to be sure!" exclaimed her husband.

Mr. Johnson, meanwhile, though enjoying the cheerful humor of his
hosts, was not a little puzzled with regard to its cause.

"What is the A. C.?" he ventured to ask.

Mr. and Mrs. Billings looked at each other, and smiled without
replying.

"Really, Ned," said the former, finally, "the answer to your
question involves the whole story."

"Then why not tell him the whole story, Enos?" remarked his wife.

"You know I've never told it yet, and it's rather a hard thing to
do, seeing that I'm one of the heroes of the farce--for it wasn't
even genteel comedy, Ned," said Mr. Billings. "However," he
continued, "absurd as the story may seem, it's the only key to the
change in my life, and I must run the risk of being laughed at."

"I'll help you through, Enos," said his wife, encouragingly; "and
besides, my role in the farce was no better than yours. Let us
resuscitate, for to-night only, the constitution of the A. C."

"Upon my word, a capital idea! But we shall have to initiate Ned."

Mr. Johnson merrily agreeing, he was blindfolded and conducted into
another room. A heavy arm-chair, rolling on casters, struck his
legs in the rear, and he sank into it with lamb-like resignation.

"Open your mouth!" was the command, given with mock solemnity.

He obeyed.

"Now shut it!"

And his lips closed upon a cigar, while at the same time the
handkerchief was whisked away from his eyes. He found himself
in Mr. Billing's library.

"Your nose betrays your taste, Mr. Johnson," said the lady, "and I
am not hard-hearted enough to deprive you of the indulgence. Here
are matches."

"Well," said he, acting upon the hint, "if the remainder of the
ceremonies are equally agreeable, I should like to be a permanent
member of your order."

By this time Mr. and Mrs. Billings, having between them lighted the
lamp, stirred up the coal in the grate, closed the doors, and taken
possession of comfortable chairs, the latter proclaimed--

"The Chapter (isn't that what you call it?) will now be held!"

"Was it in '43 when you left home, Ned?" asked Mr. B.

"Yes."

"Well, the A. C. culminated in '45. You remember something of the
society of Norridgeport, the last winter you were there? Abel
Mallory, for instance?"

"Let me think a moment," said Mr. Johnson reflectively. "Really,
it seems like looking back a hundred years. Mallory--wasn't that
the sentimental young man, with wispy hair, a tallowy skin, and
big, sweaty hands, who used to be spouting Carlyle on the `reading
evenings' at Shelldrake's? Yes, to be sure; and there was Hollins,
with his clerical face and infidel talk,--and Pauline Ringtop, who
used to say, `The Beautiful is the Good.' I can still hear her
shrill voice, singing, `Would that _I_ were beautiful, would that
_I_ were fair!'"

There was a hearty chorus of laughter at poor Miss Ringtop's
expense. It harmed no one, however; for the tar-weed was already
thick over her Californian grave.

"Oh, I see," said Mr. Billings, "you still remember the absurdities
of those days. In fact, I think you partially saw through them
then. But I was younger, and far from being so clear-headed, and
I looked upon those evenings at Shelldrake's as being equal, at
least, to the symposia of Plato. Something in Mallory always
repelled me. I detested the sight of his thick nose, with the
flaring nostrils, and his coarse, half-formed lips, of the bluish
color of raw corned-beef. But I looked upon these feelings as
unreasonable prejudices, and strove to conquer them, seeing the
admiration which he received from others. He was an oracle on the
subject of `Nature.' Having eaten nothing for two years, except
Graham bread, vegetables without salt, and fruits, fresh or dried,
he considered himself to have attained an antediluvian purity of
health--or that he would attain it, so soon as two pimples on his
left temple should have healed. These pimples he looked upon as
the last feeble stand made by the pernicious juices left from the
meat he had formerly eaten and the coffee he had drunk. His theory
was, that through a body so purged and purified none but true and
natural impulses could find access to the soul. Such, indeed, was
the theory we all held. A Return to Nature was the near
Millennium, the dawn of which we already beheld in the sky. To be
sure there was a difference in our individual views as to how this
should be achieved, but we were all agreed as to what the result
should be.

"I can laugh over those days now, Ned; but they were really happy
while they lasted. We were the salt of the earth; we were lifted
above those grovelling instincts which we saw manifested in the
lives of others. Each contributed his share of gas to inflate the
painted balloon to which we all clung, in the expectation that it
would presently soar with us to the stars. But it only went up
over the out-houses, dodged backwards and forwards two or three
times, and finally flopped down with us into a swamp."

"And that balloon was the A. C.?" suggested Mr. Johnson.

"As President of this Chapter, I prohibit questions," said Eunice.
"And, Enos, don't send up your balloon until the proper time.
Don't anticipate the programme, or the performance will be
spoiled."

"I had almost forgotten that Ned is so much in the dark," her
obedient husband answered. "You can have but a slight notion," he
continued, turning to his friend, "of the extent to which this
sentimental, or transcendental, element in the little circle at
Shelldrake's increased after you left Norridgeport. We read the
`Dial,' and Emerson; we believed in Alcott as the `purple Plato' of
modern times; we took psychological works out of the library, and
would listen for hours to Hollins while he read Schelling or
Fichte, and then go home with a misty impression of having imbibed
infinite wisdom. It was, perhaps, a natural, though very eccentric
rebound from the hard, practical, unimaginative New-England mind
which surrounded us; yet I look back upon it with a kind of wonder.

I was then, as you know, unformed mentally, and might have
been so still, but for the experiences of the A. C."

Mr. Johnson shifted his position, a little impatiently. Eunice
looked at him with laughing eyes, and shook her finger with a mock
threat.

"Shelldrake," continued Mr. Billings, without noticing this by-
play, "was a man of more pretence than real cultivation, as I
afterwards discovered. He was in good circumstances, and always
glad to receive us at his house, as this made him, virtually, the
chief of our tribe, and the outlay for refreshments involved only
the apples from his own orchard and water from his well. There was
an entire absence of conventionality at our meetings, and this,
conpared with the somewhat stiff society of the village, was
really an attraction. There was a mystic bond of union in our
ideas: we discussed life, love, religion, and the future state, not
only with the utmost candor, but with a warmth of feeling which, in
many of us, was genuine. Even I (and you know how painfully shy
and bashful I was) felt myself more at home there than in my
father's house; and if I didn't talk much, I had a pleasant feeling
of being in harmony with those who did.

"Well, 'twas in the early part of '45--I think in April,--when we
were all gathered together, discussing, as usual, the possibility
of leading a life in accordance with Nature. Abel Mallory was
there, and Hollins, and Miss Ringtop, and Faith Levis, with her
knitting,--and also Eunice Hazleton, a lady whom you have never
seen, but you may take my wife at her representative--"

"Stick to the programme, Enos," interrupted Mrs. Billings.

"Eunice Hazleton, then. I wish I could recollect some of the
speeches made on that occasion. Abel had but one pimple on his
temple (there was a purple spot where the other had been), and was
estimating that in two or three months more he would be a true,
unspoiled man. His complexion, nevertheless, was more clammy and
whey-like than ever.

"`Yes,' said he, `I also am an Arcadian! This false dual existence
which I have been leading will soon be merged in the unity of
Nature. Our lives must conform to her sacred law. Why can't we
strip off these hollow Shams,' (he made great use of that word,)
`and be our true selves, pure, perfect, and divine?'

"Miss Ringtop heaved a sigh, and repeated a stanza from her
favorite poet:

"`Ah, when wrecked are my desires
On the everlasting Never,
And my heart with all its fires
Out forever,
In the cradle of Creation
Finds the soul resuscitation!


"Shelldrake, however, turning to his wife, said--

"`Elviry, how many up-stairs rooms is there in that house down on
the Sound?'

"`Four,--besides three small ones under the roof. Why, what made
you think of that, Jesse?' said she.

"`I've got an idea, while Abel's been talking,' he answered.
`We've taken a house for the summer, down the other side of
Bridgeport, right on the water, where there's good fishing and a
fine view of the Sound. Now, there's room enough for all of us--at
least all that can make it suit to go. Abel, you and Enos, and
Pauline and Eunice might fix matters so that we could all take the
place in partnership, and pass the summer together, living a true
and beautiful life in the bosom of Nature. There we shall be
perfectly free and untrammelled by the chains which still hang
around us in Norridgeport. You know how often we have wanted to be
set on some island in the Pacific Ocean, where we could build up a
true society, right from the start. Now, here's a chance to try
the experiment for a few months, anyhow.'

"Eunice clapped her hands (yes, you did!) and cried out--

"`Splendid! Arcadian! I'll give up my school for the summer.'

"Miss Ringtop gave her opinion in another quotation:

"`The rainbow hues of the Ideal
Condense to gems, and form the Real!'


"Abel Mallory, of course, did not need to have the proposal
repeated. He was ready for any thing which promised indulgence,
and the indulgence of his sentimental tastes. I will do the fellow
the justice to say that he was not a hypocrite. He firmly believed
both in himself and his ideas--especially the former. He pushed
both hands through the long wisps of his drab-colored hair,
and threw his head back until his wide nostrils resembled a double
door to his brain.

"`Oh Nature!' he said, `you have found your lost children! We
shall obey your neglected laws! we shall hearken to your divine
whispers I we shall bring you back from your ignominious exile, and
place you on your ancestral throne!'

"`Let us do it!' was the general cry.

"A sudden enthusiasm fired us, and we grasped each other's hands in
the hearty impulse of the moment. My own private intention to make
a summer trip to the White Mountains had been relinquished the
moment I heard Eunice give in her adhesion. I may as well confess,
at once, that I was desperately in love, and afraid to speak to
her.

"By the time Mrs. Sheldrake brought in the apples and water we
were discussing the plan as a settled thing. Hollins had an
engagement to deliver Temperance lectures in Ohio during the
summer, but decided to postpone his departure until August, so that
he might, at least, spend two months with us. Faith Levis couldn't
go--at which, I think, we were all secretly glad. Some three or
four others were in the same case, and the company was finally
arranged to consist of the Shelldrakes, Hollins, Mallory, Eunice,
Miss Ringtop, and myself. We did not give much thought, either to
the preparations in advance, or to our mode of life when settled
there. We were to live near to Nature: that was the main thing.

"`What shall we call the place?' asked Eunice.

"`Arcadia!' said Abel Mallory, rolling up his large green eyes.

"`Then,' said Hollins, `let us constitute ourselves the Arcadian
Club!'"

"Aha!" interrupted Mr. Johnson, "I see! The A. C.!"

"Yes, you can see the A. C. now," said Mrs. Billings; "but to
understand it fully, you should have had a share in those Arcadian
experiences."

"I am all the more interested in hearing them described. Go on,
Enos."

"The proposition was adopted. We called ourselves The Arcadian
Club; but in order to avoid gossip, and the usual ridicule, to
which we were all more or less sensitive, in case our plan should
become generally known, it was agreed that the initials only should
be used. Besides, there was an agreeable air of mystery about it:
we thought of Delphi, and Eleusis, and Samothrace: we should
discover that Truth which the dim eyes of worldly men and women
were unable to see, and the day of disclosure would be the day of
Triumph. In one sense we were truly Arcadians: no suspicion of
impropriety, I verily believe, entered any of our minds. In our
aspirations after what we called a truer life there was no material
taint. We were fools, if you choose, but as far as possible from
being sinners. Besides, the characters of Mr. and Mrs. Shelldrake,
who naturally became the heads of our proposed community were
sufficient to preserve us from slander or suspicion, if even
our designs had been publicly announced.

"I won't bore you with an account of our preparations. In fact,
there was very little to be done. Mr. Shelldrake succeeded in
hiring the house, with most of its furniture, so that but a few
articles had to be supplied. My trunk contained more books than
boots, more blank paper than linen.

"`Two shirts will be enough,' said Abel: `you can wash one of them
any day, and dry it in the sun.'

"The supplies consisted mostly of flour, potatoes, and sugar.
There was a vegetable-garden in good condition, Mr. Shelldrake
said, which would be our principal dependence.

"`Besides, the clams!' I exclaimed unthinkingly.

"`Oh, yes!' said Eunice, `we can have chowder-parties: that will be
delightful!'

"`Clams! chowder! oh, worse than flesh!' groaned Abel. `Will you
reverence Nature by outraging her first laws?'

"I had made a great mistake, and felt very foolish. Eunice and I
looked at each other, for the first time."

"Speak for yourself only, Enos," gently interpolated his wife.

"It was a lovely afternoon in the beginning of June when we first
approached Arcadia. We had taken two double teams at Bridgeport,
and drove slowly forward to our destination, followed by a cart
containing our trunks and a few household articles. It was a
bright, balmy day: the wheat-fields were rich and green, the
clover showed faint streaks of ruby mist along slopes leaning
southward, and the meadows were yellow with buttercups. Now and
then we caught glimpses of the Sound, and, far beyond it, the dim
Long Island shore. Every old white farmhouse, with its gray-walled
garden, its clumps of lilacs, viburnums, and early roses, offered
us a picture of pastoral simplicity and repose. We passed them,
one by one, in the happiest mood, enjoying the earth around us, the
sky above, and ourselves most of all.

"The scenery, however, gradually became more rough and broken.
Knobs of gray gneiss, crowned by mournful cedars, intrenched upon
the arable land, and the dark-blue gleam of water appeared through
the trees. Our road, which had been approaching the Sound, now
skirted the head of a deep, irregular inlet, beyond which extended
a beautiful promontory, thickly studded with cedars, and with
scattering groups of elm, oak and maple trees. Towards the end of
the promontory stood a house, with white walls shining against the
blue line of the Sound.

"`There is Arcadia, at last!' exclaimed Mr. Shelldrake.

"A general outcry of delight greeted the announcement. And,
indeed, the loveliness of the picture surpassed our most poetic
anticipations. The low sun was throwing exquisite lights across
the point, painting the slopes of grass of golden green, and giving
a pearly softness to the gray rocks. In the back-ground was drawn
the far-off water-line, over which a few specks of sail glimmered
against the sky. Miss Ringtop, who, with Eunice, Mallory, and
myself, occupied one carriage, expressed her `gushing' feelings in
the usual manner:

"`Where the turf is softest, greenest,
Doth an angel thrust me on,--
Where the landscape lies serenest,
In the journey of the sun!'


"`Don't, Pauline!' said Eunice; `I never like to hear poetry
flourished in the face of Nature. This landscape surpasses any
poem in the world. Let us enjoy the best thing we have, rather
than the next best.'


"`Ah, yes!' sighed Miss Ringtop, `'tis true!

"`They sing to the ear; this sings to the eye!'


"Thenceforward, to the house, all was childish joy and jubilee.
All minor personal repugnances were smoothed over in the general
exultation. Even Abel Mallory became agreeable; and Hollins,
sitting beside Mrs. Shelldrake on the back seat of the foremost
carriage, shouted to us, in boyish lightness of heart.

"Passing the head of the inlet, we left the country-road, and
entered, through a gate in the tottering stone wall, on our summer
domain. A track, open to the field on one side, led us past a
clump of deciduous trees, between pastures broken by cedared knolls
of rock, down the centre of the peninsula, to the house. It was
quite an old frame-building, two stories high, with a gambrel roof
and tall chimneys. Two slim Lombardy poplars and a broad-
leaved catalpa shaded the southern side, and a kitchen-garden,
divided in the centre by a double row of untrimmed currant-bushes,
flanked it on the east. For flowers, there were masses of blue
flags and coarse tawny-red lilies, besides a huge trumpet-vine
which swung its pendent arms from one of the gables. In front of
the house a natural lawn of mingled turf and rock sloped steeply
down to the water, which was not more than two hundred yards
distant. To the west was another and broader inlet of the Sound,
out of which our Arcadian promontory rose bluff and bold, crowned
with a thick fringe of pines. It was really a lovely spot which
Shelldrake had chosen--so secluded, while almost surrounded by the
winged and moving life of the Sound, so simple, so pastoral and
home-like. No one doubted the success of our experiment, for that
evening at least.

"Perkins Brown, Shelldrake's boy-of-all-work, awaited us at the
door. He had been sent on two or three days in advance, to take
charge of the house, and seemed to have had enough of hermit-life,
for he hailed us with a wild whoop, throwing his straw hat half-way
up one of the poplars. Perkins was a boy of fifteen, the child of
poor parents, who were satisfied to get him off their hands,
regardless as to what humanitarian theories might be tested upon
him. As the Arcadian Club recognized no such thing as caste, he
was always admitted to our meetings, and understood just enough of
our conversation to excite a silly ambition in his slow mind. His
animal nature was predominant, and this led him to be deceitful.
At that time, however, we all looked upon him as a proper
young Arcadian, and hoped that he would develop into a second Abel
Mallory.

"After our effects had been deposited on the stoop, and the
carriages had driven away, we proceeded to apportion the rooms, and
take possession. On the first floor there were three rooms, two of
which would serve us as dining and drawing rooms, leaving the third
for the Shelldrakes. As neither Eunice and Miss Ringtop, nor
Hollins and Abel showed any disposition to room together, I quietly
gave up to them the four rooms in the second story, and installed
myself in one of the attic chambers. Here I could hear the music
of the rain close above my head, and through the little gable
window, as I lay in bed, watch the colors of the morning gradually
steal over the distant shores. The end was, we were all satisfied.

"`Now for our first meal in Arcadia!' was the next cry. Mrs.
Shelldrake, like a prudent housekeeper, marched off to the kitchen,
where Perkins had already kindled a fire. We looked in at the
door, but thought it best to allow her undisputed sway in such a
narrow realm. Eunice was unpacking some loaves of bread and paper
bags of crackers; and Miss Ringtop, smiling through her ropy curls,
as much as to say, `You see, _I_ also can perform the coarser tasks
of life!' occupied herself with plates and cups. We men,
therefore, walked out to the garden, which we found in a promising
condition. The usual vegetables had been planted and were
growing finely, for the season was yet scarcely warm enough
for the weeds to make much headway. Radishes, young onions, and
lettuce formed our contribution to the table. The Shelldrakes, I
should explain, had not yet advanced to the antediluvian point, in
diet: nor, indeed, had either Eunice or myself. We acknowledged
the fascination of tea, we saw a very mitigated evil in milk and
butter, and we were conscious of stifled longings after the
abomination of meat. Only Mallory, Hollins, and Miss Ringtop had
reached that loftiest round on the ladder of progress where the
material nature loosens the last fetter of the spiritual. They
looked down upon us, and we meekly admitted their right to do so.

"Our board, that evening, was really tempting. The absence of meat
was compensated to us by the crisp and racy onions, and I craved
only a little salt, which had been interdicted, as a most
pernicious substance. I sat at one corner of the table, beside
Perkins Brown, who took an opportunity, while the others were
engaged in conversation, to jog my elbow gently. As I turned
towards him, he said nothing, but dropped his eyes significantly.
The little rascal had the lid of a blacking-box, filled with salt,
upon his knee, and was privately seasoning his onions and radishes.

I blushed at the thought of my hypocrisy, but the onions were so
much better that I couldn't help dipping into the lid with him.

"`Oh,' said Eunice, `we must send for some oil and vinegar! This
lettuce is very nice.'

"`Oil and vinegar?' exclaimed Abel.

"`Why, yes,' said she, innocently: `they are both vegetable
substances.'

"Abel at first looked rather foolish, but quickly recovering
himself, said--

"`All vegetable substances are not proper for food: you would not
taste the poison-oak, or sit under the upas-tree of Java.'

"`Well, Abel,' Eunice rejoined, `how are we to distinguish what is
best for us? How are we to know WHAT vegetables to choose, or
what animal and mineral substances to avoid?'

"`I will tell you,' he answered, with a lofty air. `See here!'
pointing to his temple, where the second pimple--either from the
change of air, or because, in the excitement of the last few days,
he had forgotten it--was actually healed. `My blood is at last
pure. The struggle between the natural and the unnatural is over,
and I am beyond the depraved influences of my former taste. My
instincts are now, therefore, entirely pure also. What is good for
man to eat, that I shall have a natural desire to eat: what is bad
will be naturally repelled. How does the cow distinguish between
the wholesome and the poisonous herbs of the meadow? And is man
less than a cow, that he cannot cultivate his instincts to an equal
point? Let me walk through the woods and I can tell you every
berry and root which God designed for food, though I know not its
name, and have never seen it before. I shall make use of my time,
during our sojourn here, to test, by my purified instinct, every
substance, animal, mineral, and vegetable, upon which the
human race subsists, and to create a catalogue of the True Food of
Man!'

"Abel was eloquent on this theme, and he silenced not only Eunice,
but the rest of us. Indeed, as we were all half infected with the
same delusions, it was not easy to answer his sophistries.

"After supper was over, the prospect of cleaning the dishes and
putting things in order was not so agreeable; but Mrs. Shelldrake
and Perkins undertook the work, and we did not think it necessary
to interfere with them. Half an hour afterwards, when the full
moon had risen, we took our chairs upon the sloop, to enjoy the
calm, silver night, the soft sea-air, and our summer's residence in
anticipatory talk.

"`My friends,' said Hollins (and HIS hobby, as you may remember,
Ned, was the organization of Society, rather than those reforms
which apply directly to the Individual),--`my friends, I think we
are sufficiently advanced in progressive ideas to establish our
little Arcadian community upon what I consider the true basis: not
Law, nor Custom, but the uncorrupted impulses of our nature. What
Abel said in regard to dietetic reform is true; but that alone will
not regenerate the race. We must rise superior to those
conventional ideas of Duty whereby Life is warped and crippled.
Life must not be a prison, where each one must come and go, work,
eat, and sleep, as the jailer commands. Labor must not be a
necessity, but a spontaneous joy. 'Tis true, but little labor
is required of us here: let us, therefore, have no set tasks, no
fixed rules, but each one work, rest, eat, sleep, talk or be
silent, as his own nature prompts.'

"Perkins, sitting on the steps, gave a suppressed chuckle, which I
think no one heard but myself. I was vexed with his levity, but,
nevertheless, gave him a warning nudge with my toe, in payment for
the surreptitious salt.

"`That's just the notion I had, when I first talked of our coming
here,' said Shelldrake. `Here we're alone and unhindered; and if
the plan shouldn't happen to work well (I don't see why it
shouldn't though), no harm will be done. I've had a deal of hard
work in my life, and I've been badgered and bullied so much by your
strait-laced professors, that I'm glad to get away from the world
for a spell, and talk and do rationally, without being laughed at.'

"`Yes,' answered Hollins, `and if we succeed, as I feel we shall,
for I think I know the hearts of all of us here, this may be the
commencement of a new EEpoch for the world. We may become the
turning-point between two dispensations: behind us every thing
false and unnatural, before us every thing true, beautiful, and
good.'

"`Ah,' sighed Miss Ringtop, `it reminds me of Gamaliel J.
Gawthrop's beautiful lines:

"`Unrobed man is lying hoary
In the distance, gray and dead;
There no wreaths of godless glory
To his mist-like tresses wed,
And the foot-fall of the Ages
Reigns supreme, with noiseless tread.'


"`I am willing to try the experiment,' said I, on being appealed to
by Hollins; `but don't you think we had better observe some kind of
order, even in yielding every thing to impulse? Shouldn't there
be, at least, a platform, as the politicians call it--an agreement
by which we shall all be bound, and which we can afterwards exhibit
as the basis of our success?'

"He meditated a few moments, and then answered--

"`I think not. It resembles too much the thing we are trying to
overthrow. Can you bind a man's belief by making him sign certain
articles of Faith? No: his thought will be free, in spite of it;
and I would have Action--Life--as free as Thought. Our platform--
to adopt your image--has but one plank: Truth. Let each only be
true to himself: BE himself, ACT himself, or herself with the
uttermost candor. We can all agree upon that.'

"The agreement was accordingly made. And certainly no happier or
more hopeful human beings went to bed in all New England that
night.

"I arose with the sun, went into the garden, and commenced weeding,
intending to do my quota of work before breakfast, and then devote
the day to reading and conversation. I was presently joined by
Shelldrake and Mallory, and between us we finished the onions and
radishes, stuck the peas, and cleaned the alleys. Perkins, after
milking the cow and turning her out to pasture, assisted Mrs.
Shelldrake in the kitchen. At breakfast we were joined by Hollins,
who made no excuse for his easy morning habits; nor was one
expected. I may as well tell you now, though, that his
natural instincts never led him to work. After a week, when a
second crop of weeds was coming on, Mallory fell off also, and
thenceforth Shelldrake and myself had the entire charge of the
garden. Perkins did the rougher work, and was always on hand when
he was wanted. Very soon, however, I noticed that he was in the
habit of disappearing for two or three hours in the afternoon.

"Our meals preserved the same Spartan simplicity. Eunice, however,
carried her point in regard to the salad; for Abel, after tasting
and finding it very palatable, decided that oil and vinegar might
be classed in the catalogue of True Food. Indeed, his long
abstinence from piquant flavors gave him such an appetite for it
that our supply of lettuce was soon exhausted. An embarrassing
accident also favored us with the use of salt. Perkins happening
to move his knee at the moment I was dipping an onion into the
blacking-box lid, our supply was knocked upon the floor. He picked
it up, and we both hoped the accident might pass unnoticed. But
Abel, stretching his long neck across the corner of the table,
caught a glimpse of what was going on.

"`What's that?' he asked.

"`Oh, it's--it's only,' said I, seeking for a synonyme, `only
chloride of sodium!'

"`Chloride of sodium! what do you do with it?'

"`Eat it with onions,' said I, boldly: `it's a chemical substance,
but I believe it is found in some plants.'

"Eunice, who knew something of chemistry (she taught a class,
though you wouldn't think it), grew red with suppressed fun, but
the others were as ignorant as Abel Mallory himself.

"`Let me taste it,' said he, stretching out an onion.

"I handed him the box-lid, which still contained a portion of its
contents. He dipped the onion, bit off a piece, and chewed it
gravely.

"`Why,' said he, turning to me, `it's very much like salt.'

"Perkins burst into a spluttering yell, which discharged an onion-
top he had just put between his teeth across the table; Eunice and
I gave way at the same moment; and the others, catching the joke,
joined us. But while we were laughing, Abel was finishing his
onion, and the result was that Salt was added to the True Food, and
thereafter appeared regularly on the table.

"The forenoons we usually spent in reading and writing, each in his
or her chamber. (Oh, the journals, Ned!--but you shall not see
mine.) After a midday meal,--I cannot call it dinner,--we sat upon
the stoop, listening while one of us read aloud, or strolled down
the shores on either side, or, when the sun was not too warm, got
into a boat, and rowed or floated lazily around the promontory.

"One afternoon, as I was sauntering off, past the garden, towards
the eastern inlet, I noticed Perkins slipping along behind the
cedar knobs, towards the little woodland at the end of our domain.
Curious to find out the cause of his mysterious disappearances, I
followed cautiously. From the edge of the wood I saw him enter a
little gap between the rocks, which led down to the water.
Presently a thread of blue smoke stole up. Quietly creeping along,
I got upon the nearer bluff and looked down. There was a sort of
hearth built up at the base of the rock, with a brisk little fire
burning upon it, but Perkins had disappeared. I stretched myself
out upon the moss, in the shade, and waited. In about half an hour
up came Perkins, with a large fish in one hand and a lump of clay
in the other. I now understood the mystery. He carefully imbedded
the fish in a thin layer of clay, placed it on the coals, and then
went down to the shore to wash his hands. On his return he found
me watching the fire.

"`Ho, ho, Mr. Enos!' said he, `you've found me out; But you won't
say nothin'. Gosh! you like it as well I do. Look 'ee there!'--
breaking open the clay, from which arose `a steam of rich distilled
perfumes,'--`and, I say, I've got the box-lid with that 'ere stuff
in it,--ho! ho!'--and the scamp roared again.

"Out of a hole in the rock he brought salt and the end of a loaf,
and between us we finished the fish. Before long, I got into the
habit of disappearing in the afternoon.

"Now and then we took walks, alone or collectively, to the nearest
village, or even to Bridgeport, for the papers or a late book. The
few purchases we required were made at such times, and sent down in
a cart, or, if not too heavy, carried by Perkins in a basket. I
noticed that Abel, whenever we had occasion to visit a grocery,
would go sniffing around, alternately attracted or repelled by the
various articles: now turning away with a shudder from a
ham,--now inhaling, with a fearful delight and uncertainty,
the odor of smoked herrings. `I think herrings must feed on sea-
weed,' said he, `there is such a vegetable attraction about them.'
After his violent vegetarian harangues, however, he hesitated about
adding them to his catalogue.

"But, one day, as we were passing through the village, he was
reminded by the sign of `WARTER CRACKERS' in the window of an
obscure grocery that he required a supply of these articles, and we
therefore entered. There was a splendid Rhode Island cheese on the
counter, from which the shop-mistress was just cutting a slice for
a customer. Abel leaned over it, inhaling the rich, pungent
fragrance.

"`Enos,' said he to me, between his sniffs, `this impresses me like
flowers--like marigolds. It must be--really--yes, the vegetable
element is predominant. My instinct towards it is so strong that
I cannot be mistaken. May I taste it, ma'am?'

"The woman sliced off a thin corner, and presented it to him on the
knife.

"`Delicious!' he exclaimed; `I am right,--this is the True Food.
Give me two pounds--and the crackers, ma'am.'

"I turned away, quite as much disgusted as amused with this
charlatanism. And yet I verily believe the fellow was sincere--
self-deluded only. I had by this time lost my faith in him, though
not in the great Arcadian principles. On reaching home, after an
hour's walk, I found our household in unusual commotion. Abel
was writhing in intense pain: he had eaten the whole two pounds of
cheese, on his way home! His stomach, so weakened by years of
unhealthy abstinence from true nourishment, was now terribly
tortured by this sudden stimulus. Mrs. Shelldrake, fortunately,
had some mustard among her stores, and could therefore administer
a timely emetic. His life was saved, but he was very ill for two
or three days. Hollins did not fail to take advantage of this
circumstance to overthrow the authority which Abel had gradually
acquired on the subject of food. He was so arrogant in his nature
that he could not tolerate the same quality in another, even where
their views coincided.

"By this time several weeks had passed away. It was the beginning
of July, and the long summer heats had come. I was driven out of
my attic during the middle hours of the day, and the others found
it pleasanter on the doubly shaded stoop than in their chambers.
We were thus thrown more together than usual--a circumstance which
made our life more monotonous to the others, as I could see; but to
myself, who could at last talk to Eunice, and who was happy at the
very sight of her, this `heated term' seemed borrowed from Elysium.

I read aloud, and the sound of my own voice gave me confidence;
many passages suggested discussions, in which I took a part; and
you may judge, Ned, how fast I got on, from the fact that I
ventured to tell Eunice of my fish-bakes with Perkins, and invite
her to join them. After that, she also often disappeared from
sight for an hour or two in the afternoon."

----"Oh, Mr. Johnson," interrupted Mrs. Billings, "it wasn't for
the fish!"

"Of course not," said her husband; "it was for my sake."

"No, you need not think it was for you. Enos," she added,
perceiving the feminine dilemma into which she had been led, "all
this is not necessary to the story."

"Stop!" he answered. "The A. C. has been revived for this night
only. Do you remember our platform, or rather no-platform? I must
follow my impulses, and say whatever comes uppermost."

"Right, Enos," said Mr. Johnson; "I, as temporary Arcadian, take
the same ground. My instinct tells me that you, Mrs. Billings,
must permit the confession."

She submitted with a good grace, and her husband continued:

"I said that our lazy life during the hot weather had become a
little monotonous. The Arcadian plan had worked tolerably well, on
the whole, for there was very little for any one to do--Mrs.
Shelldrake and Perkins Brown excepted. Our conversation, however,
lacked spirit and variety. We were, perhaps unconsciously, a
little tired of hearing and assenting to the same sentiments. But
one evening, about this time, Hollins struck upon a variation, the
consequences of which he little foresaw. We had been reading one
of Bulwer's works (the weather was too hot for Psychology), and
came upon this paragraph, or something like it:

"`Ah, Behind the Veil! We see the summer smile of the Earth--
enamelled meadow and limpid stream,--but what hides she in her
sunless heart? Caverns of serpents, or grottoes of priceless gems?

Youth, whose soul sits on thy countenance, thyself wearing no mask,
strive not to lift the masks of others! Be content with what thou
seest; and wait until Time and Experience shall teach thee to find
jealousy behind the sweet smile, and hatred under the honeyed
word!'

"This seemed to us a dark and bitter reflection; but one or another
of us recalled some illustration of human hypocrisy, and the
evidences, by the simple fact of repetition, gradually led to a
division of opinion--Hollins, Shelldrake, and Miss Ringtop on the
dark side, and the rest of us on the bright. The last, however,
contented herself with quoting from her favorite poet, Gamaliel J.
Gawthrop:

"`I look beyond thy brow's concealment!
I see thy spirit's dark revealment!
Thy inner self betrayed I see:
Thy coward, craven, shivering ME!'


"`We think we know one another,' exclaimed Hollins; `but do we? We
see the faults of others, their weaknesses, their disagreeable
qualities, and we keep silent. How much we should gain, were
candor as universal as concealment! Then each one, seeing himself
as others see him, would truly know himself. How much
misunderstanding might be avoided--how much hidden shame be
removed--hopeless, because unspoken, love made glad--honest
admiration cheer its object--uttered sympathy mitigate
misfortune--in short, how much brighter and happier the world would
become if each one expressed, everywhere and at all times, his true
and entire feeling! Why, even Evil would lose half its power!'

"There seemed to be so much practical wisdom in these views that we
were all dazzled and half-convinced at the start. So, when
Hollins, turning towards me, as he continued, exclaimed--`Come, why
should not this candor be adopted in our Arcadia? Will any one--
will you, Enos--commence at once by telling me now--to my face--my
principal faults?' I answered after a moment's reflection--`You
have a great deal of intellectual arrogance, and you are,
physically, very indolent'

"He did not flinch from the self-invited test, though he looked a
little surprised.

"`Well put,' said he, `though I do not say that you are entirely
correct. Now, what are my merits?'

"`You are clear-sighted,' I answered, `an earnest seeker after
truth, and courageous in the avowal of your thoughts.'

"This restored the balance, and we soon began to confess our own
private faults and weaknesses. Though the confessions did not go
very deep,--no one betraying anything we did not all know
already,--yet they were sufficient to strength Hollins in his new
idea, and it was unanimously resolved that Candor should
thenceforth be the main charm of our Arcadian life. It was the
very thing _I_ wanted, in order to make a certain communication to
Eunice; but I should probably never have reached the point,
had not the same candor been exercised towards me, from a quarter
where I least expected it.

"The next day, Abel, who had resumed his researches after the True
Food, came home to supper with a healthier color than I had before
seen on his face.

"`Do you know,' said he, looking shyly at Hollins, `that I begin to
think Beer must be a natural beverage? There was an auction in the
village to-day, as I passed through, and I stopped at a cake-stand
to get a glass of water, as it was very hot. There was no water--
only beer: so I thought I would try a glass, simply as an
experiment. Really, the flavor was very agreeable. And it
occurred to me, on the way home, that all the elements contained in
beer are vegetable. Besides, fermentation is a natural process.
I think the question has never been properly tested before.'

"`But the alcohol!' exclaimed Hollins.

"`I could not distinguish any, either by taste or smell. I know
that chemical analysis is said to show it; but may not the alcohol
be created, somehow, during the analysis?'

"`Abel,' said Hollins, in a fresh burst of candor, `you will never
be a Reformer, until you possess some of the commonest elements of
knowledge.'

"The rest of us were much diverted: it was a pleasant relief to our
monotonous amiability.

"Abel, however, had a stubborn streak in his character. The next
day he sent Perkins Brown to Bridgeport for a dozen bottles of
`Beer.' Perkins, either intentionally or by mistake, (I always
suspected the former,) brought pint-bottles of Scotch ale,
which he placed in the coolest part of the cellar. The evening
happened to be exceedingly hot and sultry, and, as we were all
fanning ourselves and talking languidly, Abel bethought him of his
beer. In his thirst, he drank the contents of the first bottle,
almost at a single draught.

"`The effect of beer,' said he, `depends, I think, on the
commixture of the nourishing principle of the grain with the
cooling properties of the water. Perhaps, hereafter, a liquid food
of the same character may be invented, which shall save us from
mastication and all the diseases of the teeth.'

"Hollins and Shelldrake, at his invitation, divided a bottle
between them, and he took a second. The potent beverage was not
long in acting on a brain so unaccustomed to its influence. He
grew unusually talkative and sentimental, in a few minutes.

"`Oh, sing, somebody!' he sighed in a hoarse rapture: `the night
was made for Song.'

"Miss Ringtop, nothing loath, immediately commenced, `When stars
are in the quiet skies;' but scarcely had she finished the first
verse before Abel interrupted her.

"`Candor's the order of the day, isn't it?' he asked.

"`Yes!' `Yes!' two or three answered.

"`Well then,' said he, `candidly, Pauline, you've got the darn'dest
squeaky voice'--

"Miss Ringtop gave a faint little scream of horror.

"`Oh, never mind!' he continued. `We act according to
impulse, don't we? And I've the impulse to swear; and it's right.
Let Nature have her way. Listen! Damn, damn, damn, damn! I never
knew it was so easy. Why, there's a pleasure in it! Try it,
Pauline! try it on me!'

"`Oh-ooh!' was all Miss Ringtop could utter.

"`Abel! Abel!' exclaimed Hollins, `the beer has got into your
head.'

"`No, it isn't Beer,--it's Candor!' said Abel. `It's your own
proposal, Hollins. Suppose it's evil to swear: isn't it better I
should express it, and be done with it, than keep it bottled up to
ferment in my mind? Oh, you're a precious, consistent old humbug,
you are!'

"And therewith he jumped off the stoop, and went dancing awkwardly
down towards the water, singing in a most unmelodious voice, `'Tis
home where'er the heart is.'

"`Oh, he may fall into the water!' exclaimed Eunice, in alarm.

"`He's not fool enough to do that,' said Shelldrake. `His head is
a little light, that's all. The air will cool him down presently.'

But she arose and followed him, not satisfied with this assurance.
Miss Ringtop sat rigidly still. She would have received with
composure the news of his drowning.

"As Eunice's white dress disappeared among the cedars crowning the
shore, I sprang up and ran after her. I knew that Abel was not
intoxicated, but simply excited, and I had no fear on his account:
I obeyed an involuntary impulse. On approaching the water, I
heard their voices--hers in friendly persuasion, his in sentimental
entreaty,--then the sound of oars in the row-locks. Looking out
from the last clump of cedars, I saw them seated in the boat,
Eunice at the stern, while Abel, facing her, just dipped an oar now
and then to keep from drifting with the tide. She had found him
already in the boat, which was loosely chained to a stone.
Stepping on one of the forward thwarts in her eagerness to persuade
him to return, he sprang past her, jerked away the chain, and
pushed off before she could escape. She would have fallen, but he
caught her and placed her in the stern, and then seated himself at
the oars. She must have been somewhat alarmed, but there was only
indignation in her voice. All this had transpired before my
arrival, and the first words I heard bound me to the spot and kept
me silent.

"`Abel, what does this mean?' she asked

"`It means Fate--Destiny!' he exclaimed, rather wildly. `Ah,
Eunice, ask the night, and the moon,--ask the impulse which told
you to follow me! Let us be candid like the old Arcadians we
imitate. Eunice, we know that we love each other: why should we
conceal it any longer? The Angel of Love comes down from the stars
on his azure wings, and whispers to our hearts. Let us confess to
each other! The female heart should not be timid, in this pure and
beautiful atmosphere of Love which we breathe. Come, Eunice! we
are alone: let your heart speak to me!'

"Ned, if you've ever been in love, (we'll talk of that after
a while,) you will easily understand what tortures I endured, in
thus hearing him speak. That HE should love Eunice! It was a
profanation to her, an outrage to me. Yet the assurance with which
he spoke! COULD she love this conceited, ridiculous, repulsive
fellow, after all? I almost gasped for breath, as I clinched the
prickly boughs of the cedars in my hands, and set my teeth, waiting
to hear her answer.

"`I will not hear such language! Take me back to the shore!' she
said, in very short, decided tones.

"`Oh, Eunice,' he groaned, (and now, I think he was perfectly
sober,) `don't you love me, indeed? _I_ love you,--from my heart
I do: yes, I love you. Tell me how you feel towards me.'

"`Abel,' said she, earnestly, `I feel towards you only as a friend;
and if you wish me to retain a friendly interest in you, you must
never again talk in this manner. I do not love you, and I never
shall. Let me go back to the house.'

"His head dropped upon his breast, but he rowed back to the shore,
drew the bow upon the rocks, and assisted her to land. Then,
sitting down, he groaned forth--

"`Oh, Eunice, you have broken my heart!' and putting his big hands
to his face, began to cry.

"She turned, placed one hand on his shoulder, and said in a calm,
but kind tone--

"`I am very sorry, Abel, but I cannot help it.'

"I slipped aside, that she might not see me, and we returned by
separate paths.

"I slept very little that night. The conviction which I chased
away from my mind as often as it returned, that our Arcadian
experiment was taking a ridiculous and at the same time
impracticable development, became clearer and stronger. I felt
sure that our little community could not hold together much longer
without an explosion. I had a presentiment that Eunice shared my
impressions. My feelings towards her had reached that crisis where
a declaration was imperative: but how to make it? It was a
terrible struggle between my shyness and my affection. There was
another circumstance in connection with this subject, which
troubled me not a little. Miss Ringtop evidently sought my
company, and made me, as much as possible, the recipient of her
sentimental outpourings. I was not bold enough to repel her--
indeed I had none of that tact which is so useful in such
emergencies,--and she seemed to misinterpret my submission. Not
only was her conversation pointedly directed to me, but she looked
at me, when singing, (especially, `Thou, thou, reign'st in this
bosom!') in a way that made me feel very uncomfortable. What if
Eunice should suspect an attachment towards her, on my part. What
if--oh, horror!--I had unconsciously said or done something to
impress Miss Ringtop herself with the same conviction? I shuddered
as the thought crossed my mind. One thing was very certain: this
suspense was not to be endured much longer.

"We had an unusually silent breakfast the next morning. Abel
scarcely spoke, which the others attributed to a natural
feeling of shame, after his display of the previous evening.
Hollins and Shelldrake discussed Temperance, with a special view to
his edification, and Miss Ringtop favored us with several
quotations about `the maddening bowl,'--but he paid no attention to
them. Eunice was pale and thoughtful. I had no doubt in my mind,
that she was already contemplating a removal from Arcadia.
Perkins, whose perceptive faculties were by no means dull,
whispered to me, `Shan't I bring up some porgies for supper?' but
I shook my head. I was busy with other thoughts, and did not join
him in the wood, that day.

"The forenoon was overcast, with frequent showers. Each one
occupied his or her room until dinner-time, when we met again with
something of the old geniality. There was an evident effort to
restore our former flow of good feeling. Abel's experience with
the beer was freely discussed. He insisted strongly that he had
not been laboring under its effects, and proposed a mutual test.
He, Shelldrake, and Hollins were to drink it in equal measures, and
compare observations as to their physical sensations. The others
agreed,--quite willingly, I thought,--but I refused. I had
determined to make a desperate attempt at candor, and Abel's fate
was fresh before my eyes.

"My nervous agitation increased during the day, and after sunset,
fearing lest I should betray my excitement in some way, I walked
down to the end of the promontory, and took a seat on the rocks.
The sky had cleared, and the air was deliciously cool and
sweet. The Sound was spread out before me like a sea, for the Long
Island shore was veiled in a silvery mist. My mind was soothed and
calmed by the influences of the scene, until the moon arose.
Moonlight, you know, disturbs--at least, when one is in love. (Ah,
Ned, I see you understand it!) I felt blissfully miserable, ready
to cry with joy at the knowledge that I loved, and with fear and
vexation at my cowardice, at the same time.

"Suddenly I heard a rustling beside me. Every nerve in my body
tingled, and I turned my head, with a beating and expectant heart.
Pshaw! It was Miss Ringtop, who spread her blue dress on the rock
beside me, and shook back her long curls, and sighed, as she gazed
at the silver path of the moon on the water.

"`Oh, how delicious!' she cried. `How it seems to set the spirit
free, and we wander off on the wings of Fancy to other spheres!'

"`Yes,' said I, `It is very beautiful, but sad, when one is alone.'

"I was thinking of Eunice.

"`How inadequate,' she continued, `is language to express the
emotions which such a scene calls up in the bosom! Poetry alone is
the voice of the spiritual world, and we, who are not poets, must
borrow the language of the gifted sons of Song. Oh, Enos, I
WISH you were a poet! But you FEEL poetry, I know you do.
I have seen it in your eyes, when I quoted the burning lines of
Adeliza Kelley, or the soul-breathings of Gamaliel J. Gawthrop.
In HIM, particularly, I find the voice of my own nature.
Do you know his `Night-Whispers?' How it embodies the feelings of
such a scene as this!

"Star-drooping bowers bending down the spaces,
And moonlit glories sweep star-footed on;
And pale, sweet rivers, in their shining races,
Are ever gliding through the moonlit places,
With silver ripples on their tranced faces,
And forests clasp their dusky hands, with low and sullen moan!'


"`Ah!' she continued, as I made no reply, `this is an hour for the
soul to unveil its most secret chambers! Do you not think, Enos,
that love rises superior to all conventionalities? that those whose
souls are in unison should be allowed to reveal themselves to each
other, regardless of the world's opinions?'

"`Yes!' said I, earnestly.

"`Enos, do you understand me?' she asked, in a tender voice--almost
a whisper.

"`Yes,' said I, with a blushing confidence of my own passion.

"`Then,' she whispered, `our hearts are wholly in unison. I know
you are true, Enos. I know your noble nature, and I will never
doubt you. This is indeed happiness!'

"And therewith she laid her head on my shoulder, and sighed--

"`Life remits his tortures cruel,
Love illumes his fairest fuel,
When the hearts that once were dual
Meet as one, in sweet renewal!'


"`Miss Ringtop!' I cried, starting away from her, in alarm, `you
don't mean that--that--'

"I could not finish the sentence.

"`Yes, Enos, DEAR Enos! henceforth we belong to each other.'

"The painful embarrassment I felt, as her true meaning shot through
my mind, surpassed anything I had imagined, or experienced in
anticipation, when planning how I should declare myself to Eunice.
Miss Ringtop was at least ten years older than I, far from handsome
(but you remember her face,) and so affectedly sentimental, that I,
sentimental as I was then, was sick of hearing her talk. Her
hallucination was so monstrous, and gave me such a shock of
desperate alarm, that I spoke, on the impulse of the moment, with
great energy, without regarding how her feelings might be wounded.

"`You mistake!' I exclaimed. `I didn't mean that,--I didn't
understand you. Don't talk to me that way,--don't look at me in
that way, Miss Ringtop! We were never meant for each other--I
wasn't----You're so much older--I mean different. It can't be--no,
it can never be! Let us go back to the house: the night is cold.'

"I rose hastily to my feet. She murmured something,--what, I did
not stay to hear,--but, plunging through the cedars, was hurrying
with all speed to the house, when, half-way up the lawn, beside one
of the rocky knobs, I met Eunice, who was apparently on her way to
join us.

In my excited mood, after the ordeal through which I had
passed, everything seemed easy. My usual timidity was blown
to the four winds. I went directly to her, took her hand, and
said--

"`Eunice, the others are driving me mad with their candor; will you
let me be candid, too?'

"`I think you are always candid, Enos,' she answered.

"Even then, if I had hesitated, I should have been lost. But I
went on, without pausing--

"`Eunice, I love you--I have loved you since we first met. I came
here that I might be near you; but I must leave you forever, and
to-night, unless you can trust your life in my keeping. God help
me, since we have been together I have lost my faith in almost
everything but you. Pardon me, if I am impetuous--different from
what I have seemed. I have struggled so hard to speak! I have
been a coward, Eunice, because of my love. But now I have spoken,
from my heart of hearts. Look at me: I can bear it now. Read the
truth in my eyes, before you answer.'

"I felt her hand tremble while I spoke. As she turned towards me
her face, which had been averted, the moon shone full upon it, and
I saw that tears were upon her cheeks. What was said--whether
anything was said--I cannot tell. I felt the blessed fact, and
that was enough. That was the dawning of the true Arcadia."

Mrs. Billings, who had been silent during this recital, took her
husband's hand and smiled. Mr. Johnson felt a dull pang about the
region of his heart. If he had a secret, however, I do not
feel justified in betraying it.

"It was late," Mr. Billings continued, "before we returned to the
house. I had a special dread of again encountering Miss Ringtop,
but she was wandering up and down the bluff, under the pines,
singing, `The dream is past.' There was a sound of loud voices, as
we approached the stoop. Hollins, Shelldrake and his wife, and
Abel Mallory were sitting together near the door. Perkins Brown,
as usual, was crouched on the lowest step, with one leg over the
other, and rubbing the top of his boot with a vigor which betrayed
to me some secret mirth. He looked up at me from under his straw
hat with the grin of a malicious Puck, glanced towards the group,
and made a curious gesture with his thumb. There were several
empty pint-bottles on the stoop.

"`Now, are you sure you can bear the test?' we heard Hollins ask,
as we approached.

"`Bear it? Why to be sure!' replied Shelldrake; `if I couldn't
bear it, or if YOU couldn't, your theory's done for. Try! I
can stand it as long as you can.'

"`Well, then,' said Hollins, `I think you are a very ordinary man.
I derive no intellectual benefit from my intercourse with you, but
your house is convenient to me. I'm under no obligations for your
hospitality, however, because my company is an advantage to you.
Indeed if I were treated according to my deserts, you couldn't do
enough for me.'

"Mrs. Shelldrake was up in arms.

"`Indeed,' she exclaimed, `I think you get as good as you deserve,
and more too.'

"`Elvira,' said he, with a benevolent condescension, `I have no
doubt you think so, for your mind belongs to the lowest and most
material sphere. You have your place in Nature, and you fill it;
but it is not for you to judge of intelligences which move only on
the upper planes.'

"`Hollins,' said Shelldrake, `Elviry's a good wife and a sensible
woman, and I won't allow you to turn up your nose at her.'

"`I am not surprised,' he answered, `that you should fail to stand
the test. I didn't expect it.'

"`Let me try it on YOU!' cried Shelldrake. `You, now, have some
intellect,--I don't deny that,--but not so much, by a long shot, as
you think you have. Besides that, you're awfully selfish in your
opinions. You won't admit that anybody can be right who differs
from you. You've sponged on me for a long time; but I suppose I've
learned something from you, so we'll call it even. I think,
however, that what you call acting according to impulse is simply
an excuse to cover your own laziness.'

"`Gosh! that's it!' interrupted Perkins, jumping up; then,
recollecting himself, he sank down on the steps again, and shook
with a suppressed `Ho! ho! ho!'

"Hollins, however, drew himself up with an exasperated air.

"`Shelldrake,' said he, `I pity you. I always knew your ignorance,
but I thought you honest in your human character. I never
suspected you of envy and malice. However, the true Reformer must
expect to be misunderstood and misrepresented by meaner minds.
That love which I bear to all creatures teaches me to forgive you.
Without such love, all plans of progress must fail. Is it not so,
Abel?'

"Shelldrake could only ejaculate the words, `Pity!' `Forgive?' in
his most contemptuous tone; while Mrs. Shelldrake, rocking
violently in her chair, gave utterance to that peculiar clucking,
`TS, TS, TS, TS,' whereby certain women express emotions too
deep for words.

"Abel, roused by Hollins's question, answered, with a sudden
energy--

"`Love! there is no love in the world. Where will you find it?
Tell me, and I'll go there. Love! I'd like to see it! If all
human hearts were like mine, we might have an Arcadia; but most men
have no hearts. The world is a miserable, hollow, deceitful shell
of vanity and hypocrisy. No: let us give up. We were born before
our time: this age is not worthy of us.'

"Hollins stared at the speaker in utter amazement. Shelldrake gave
a long whistle, and finally gasped out--

"`Well, what next?'

"None of us were prepared for such a sudden and complete wreck of
our Arcadian scheme. The foundations had been sapped before, it is
true; but we had not perceived it; and now, in two short days, the
whole edifice tumbled about our ears. Though it was inevitable, we
felt a shock of sorrow, and a silence fell upon us. Only that
scamp of a Perkins Brown, chuckling and rubbing his boot, really
rejoiced. I could have kicked him.

"We all went to bed, feeling that the charm of our Arcadian life
was over. I was so full of the new happiness of love that I was
scarcely conscious of regret. I seemed to have leaped at once into
responsible manhood, and a glad rush of courage filled me at the
knowledge that my own heart was a better oracle than those--now so
shamefully overthrown--on whom I had so long implicitly relied. In
the first revulsion of feeling, I was perhaps unjust to my
associates. I see now, more clearly, the causes of those vagaries,
which originated in a genuine aspiration, and failed from an
ignorance of the true nature of Man, quite as much as from the
egotism of the individuals. Other attempts at reorganizing Society
were made about the same time by men of culture and experience, but
in the A. C. we had neither. Our leaders had caught a few half-
truths, which, in their minds, were speedily warped into errors.
I can laugh over the absurdities I helped to perpetrate, but I must
confess that the experiences of those few weeks went far towards
making a man of me."

"Did the A. C. break up at once?" asked Mr. Johnson.

"Not precisely; though Eunice and I left the house within two days,
as we had agreed. We were not married immediately, however. Three
long years--years of hope and mutual encouragement--passed away
before that happy consummation. Before our departure, Hollins had
fallen into his old manner, convinced, apparently, that Candor
must be postponed to a better age of the world. But the quarrel
rankled in Shelldrake's mind, and especially in that of his wife.
I could see by her looks and little fidgety ways that his further
stay would be very uncomfortable. Abel Mallory, finding himself
gaining in weight and improving in color, had no thought of
returning. The day previous, as I afterwards learned, he had
discovered Perkins Brown's secret kitchen in the woods.

"`Golly!' said that youth, in describing the circumstance to me, `I
had to ketch TWO porgies that day.'

"Miss Ringtop, who must have suspected the new relation between
Eunice and myself, was for the most part rigidly silent. If she
quoted, it was from the darkest and dreariest utterances of her
favorite Gamaliel.

"What happened after our departure I learned from Perkins, on the
return of the Shelldrakes to Norridgeport, in September. Mrs.
Shelldrake stoutly persisted in refusing to make Hollins's bed, or
to wash his shirts. Her brain was dull, to be sure; but she was
therefore all the more stubborn in her resentment. He bore this
state of things for about a week, when his engagements to lecture
in Ohio suddenly called him away. Abel and Miss Ringtop were left
to wander about the promontory in company, and to exchange
lamentations on the hollowness of human hopes or the pleasures of
despair. Whether it was owing to that attraction of sex which
would make any man and any woman, thrown together on a desert
island, finally become mates, or whether she skilfully ministered
to Abel's sentimental vanity, I will not undertake to decide: but
the fact is, they were actually betrothed, on leaving Arcadia.
I think he would willingly have retreated, after his return to the
world; but that was not so easy. Miss Ringtop held him with an
inexorable clutch. They were not married, however, until just
before his departure for California, whither she afterwards
followed him. She died in less than a year, and left him free."

"And what became of the other Arcadians?" asked Mr. Johnson.

"The Shelldrakes are still living in Norridgeport. They have
become Spiritualists, I understand, and cultivate Mediums.
Hollins, when I last heard of him, was a Deputy-Surveyor in the New
York Custom-House. Perkins Brown is our butcher here in Waterbury,
and he often asks me--`Do you take chloride of soda on your
beefsteaks?' He is as fat as a prize ox, and the father of five
children."

"Enos!" exclaimed Mrs. Billings, looking at the clock, "it's nearly
midnight! Mr. Johnson must be very tired, after such a long story.

The Chapter of the A. C. is hereby closed!"

****

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