Ellen

Preface

TN the conception of this book it was not at all the intention * of the author to criticise science. It is true that he, as doubtless many others, having no confidence in the small experiments resorted to by many scientists to prove their hypotheses, had always protested against that postulate which would make certain intimately related phenomena, as heat, light, etc., different in their nature from the great majority of things which we are familiar with ; but notwithstanding this, the author had, or supposed he had, a high respect for science, and, so far as he had thought of it, supposed that he was a believer in evolution. That is, he supposed evolution to be the best thought of the more advanced thinkers, and, if so, was inclined to accept it. With such sentiments as these, after having determined to write a novel that should deal largely with philosophy and physics, the author, with the intention of using the information for such a book, began a review of those subjects which in an active life of business and of literature in a very different field, had been largely neglected since college days. It took but a short time to perceive that a large part of the physics and philosophy of science is not only entirely without evidence, but also manifestly erroneous, and that this is especially true in regard to the undulatory theories and the

VI PREFACE

principle of evolution ; and hence the book, which was intended to be a structure built upon the principles of science, has become largely a criticism of science.

But we think that all, whether scientists or laymen, will perceive the justness of the criticisms, for the inconsistencies and absurdities of the undulatory theories, when pointed out, are too transparent to be avoided, and not only the want of evidence to support evolution but a perception as open as the day, and which amounts to positive knowledge, that things are made in a very different way, leaves no alternative but to discard all of these impossible theories and accept nature's way of doing things. Not how some scientists or all scientists think the universe might be made, is the question, but how it is made.

We are aware that it is very difficult and in some if not many cases impossible for those educated in a system of either politics, science, or religion, to relinquish tenets that they have always been instructed in and supposed to be correct. As years ago the Rev. Horace Bushnell, one of the great thinkers of America, and perhaps the greatest mind intellectually that the continent has yet produced, said to the writer: "It is almost impossible to get out of a rut; and," he added, "when we do get out we are always getting in again." It is therefore a slow process for the world to leave the paths, however erroneous, in which it has long traveled, and many who succeed will be constantly slipping back. Still things are made right and not wrong, so that finally truth prevails. Thus the Ptolemaic system of Astronomy, taught in science and upheld by authority for more than two thousand years, was at

PREFACE Vli

last superseded by a system far more consistent and perspicuous, though, as taught by many scientists, still bearing seeds of error. For nothing can be more senseless than the idea of attraction at a distance. But now as the undulatory theories disappear and the correct conditions of matter as it recedes from our view are understood, it is to be hoped and expected that the great secrets of electricity, magnetism, and gravitation will be discovered, — as, by this book, has been the great secret of sound, — and even beyond these the material conditions of thought and the emotions.

A list of authors quoted in this book appears in the index. We are particularly indebted for information to the Chambers' Encyclopaedia, and the Encyclopaedia Britannica.

JOSEPH BATTELL.

Bread Loaf Inn, Ripton, Vt., May i, 1901.

IMTRODUCTIOW.

FALLEN'S MOUNTAIN, the scene of this novel, is mostly in *— ' the towns of Warren and. Lincoln, Vt. It is one of the highest, possibly the highest, of the Green Mountain range — something over 4000 feet. It is still very largely covered with forest, and the upper portion of it with the original spruce, whose dark green hue, extending formerly over all her mountain ranges, gave to Vermont her name. The author is very happy to be able to say that he has succeeded in purchasing the larger part of this mountain, some 4000 acres, and has arranged so that it may be permanently kept as a park for the benefit of the citizens of Vermont, and all others who may be disposed to visit the charms of its location, or to behold the wonderful views from its summit. There is no handsomer scenery in the world than that of Vermont, and few prettier hamlets than those of Warren and Lincoln.

All illustrations are of Vermont scenery, except that in views from Ellen's Mountain a large part of New Hampshire and a very considerable portion of New York and possibly some of Canada are seen. Of the photographs from which the illustrations are made, a number of the best, including those of Winter, Ice-Bound, Camel's Hump from the East, Smuggler's Notch, Mansfield Mountain, and the winter scenes from Ellen's Mountain, were by Mr. Robert Wilkinson, of Montpelier, Vt. The half-tone plates are from the well-known firm of Messrs. C. J. Peters & Son, Boston.

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LIST OF lUmSTRATIONft

PART 1 Frontispiece

Log Cabin, Ellen's Mountain, Near the Summit, ix

West from Ellen's Mountain, Lake Champlain and Adirondack^ in Distance, ....... i

"The Elm that Lives Above Our House." — (See page 7), . 25

Mountain Road, 37

South from Ellen's Mountain — Bread Loaf Mountain at

Right, 49

" Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise."

Springtime, . . ..61

North from Ellen's Mountain — Camel's Hump and Mansfield Mountain in Distance, . . . .... 73

Reflection, 85

Among the Green Mountains, 97

Hill Road, Warren; — Ellen's Mountain in Distance, . no Smuggler's Notch, Mansfield Mountain, . . . .123

Warren, 133

" Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the vale."

Runaway Falls, . . .146

Upon the Rocks, Ellen's Mountain (No. i), . . .152

In the Rye, . . . 158

A Vermont Glade, . . . ■ . . . . .169 Vale in Warren, . . .181

The Silent Cliff, 194

" For the strength of the hills we thank Thee, our God, our fathers' God."

Xll

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Valley East of Camel's Hump,

Woodstock,

In the Warren Woods,

On the Islands, Lake Champlain,

Mountain Forests in Winter,

"He giveth snow like

Ellen's Mountain, Winter, .

Winter on Ellen's Mountain,

Ellen's Mountain from the West,

Near the Log Cabin, Winter,

On the Warren Hills, .

Gathering Trilliums,

Meditation,

PART II wool.

Winter Scene in Vermont, .

Mountain Stream,

Northwest from Ellen's Mountain, Southwest from Ellen's Mountain, Southeast from Ellen's Mountain, Northeast from Ellen's Mountain, Mountain Forest, ....

Among the Brakes, Ellen's Mountain from the East, Adirondacks and Lake Champlain, By the Old Stone Wall, Warren, Bread Loaf Park, . . „

View in Warren, ....

West from Ellen's Mountain, Autumn,

208 219 229

242 254

267 /

305 '

319 1/

25 ; 37

74 '

96 109 121

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Xlll

Vermont Hills, ....

■Ice- Bound,

A Pastoral Scene, Mountain, Dale and River, .

Camel's Hump from the East, Morning,

" Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops."

May Among the Mountains, .

Evening,

Winter from Ellen's Mountain, .

The Mountains in Winter, .

A Winter Scene from the Mountains,

Upon the Rocks, Ellen's Mountain (No. 2),

"On every height there is repose."

Mountain Valley, . .

Ellen's Mountain, Near the Summit,

A Vermont Meadow,

" Far from the madding throng's

Contemplation, ....

Maple Grove, Warren,

A Mountain River,

" * * * the whole might seem The scenery of a fairy dream."

Winter,

Edith,

Among the Flowers,

Finis, .

ignoble strife.'

206 217 230

2 39 253 266

362 .>

373 ■'■■-

3&3 397 409

433 : *

ERRATA.

In several places in this book a singular noun or pronoun has been joined to a plural verb (as, if it were ; if he were; etc.).

The writer was particularly careful not to do this, but several such corrections were made in the proof reading, to correspond to supposed best usage, and so crept into the text.

As the author does not wish to be a party to what he considers a most undesirable, indefensible, and essentially erroneous construction ; and as also the trend of public opinion is unmistakably to abandon such construction ; this explanation is inserted.

PART I

THE CREATION

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THE WHISPERINGS ©F AW ©i® PINE.

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HOW did I get up here on this high mountain, do you ask? I was born here. My ancestors were here before me. It is our home, this mountain-top. They came here from the valley below, I suppose, — at least the greater part of our family have always dwelt in the valleys. But those that came upon the mountains found the soil deep and strong, and thrived on it, and I grew up with the rest of them, only a little nearer to these rocks. And as the years went by I have become stronger and taller, until now I am the largest of all the pines upon thi^ mountain. And thus I stand up here winter and summer, my heavy branches covered the year round with myriads of green leaves, keeping watch, not only over the mountains, but over the valleys which lie at either side of me ; the great wide valley to the west, and the smaller valleys at the east, that cluster among our hills and make this country so beautiful.

Other mountains are visible from here besides the range I am on. The highest but farthest away are at the northeast.

2 ELLEN OP THE

Those at my west are the nearest, and very distinctly to the southwest, ii the day is clear, a third group can be distinguished. These last, I hear, have become quite renowned, from a tale that is told of one Rip Van Winkle, who fell asleep upon them and did not awake until twenty years had passed away, and then could hardly recognize the scenes and the people about him. The old Pine has lived many twenty years, and in that time seen many changes, but these have all come so gradually that few, if any, astonished me. I have seen the valleys themselves change, from a wilderness to the homes that now adorn them ; but to me it did not make much difference. It pained my heart, to be sure, to see the great pines disappear, as most of them have ; but death and decay always come, and what we cannot prevent we soon learn to accept. And now I have become interested in the farms and villages that appear where formerly grew great forests of pines.

You see the lake that glistens at my west, how like a thread it starts far to the south, and how beautifully it widens at its northern end, where many islands, some extending long distances and covered with farms and villages, grace its waters. It is the mirror of our mountains, and it is, too, the mirror of those mountains that lie beyond it, at many points piercing the sky. Upon this lake formerly there passed only the Indian canoe ; later the batteaux of the French, who entered it from Canada; then, as commerce increased, the white-sailed sloops and schooners, followed by the steamboat. This last for many years, trim and elegant, has sailed over these waters, the smoke curling above it by day, while at night its glittering lights send.

their rays far up upon our mountain-tops. You may not see, but the old Pine knows that this lake is connected with the great river that flows from that wonderful system of lakes which penetrate the American continent, pouring its volume of dark-blue waters far into the north, until they enter the ocean.

Greater changes have come upon the land. At first, stages passed below. Then the railroad was built, that you can see continuing in such straight lines, and soon upon it appeared the engine with smoke rising as from the steamboat, and drawing a train of cars. The old Pine has noticed, too, though I cannot see it very distinctly, that another railroad has been built along the lake on its western shore.

To all these changes the old Pine has become accustomed. There is not now nearly so much travel upon the lake as before the railroads were built. The cars make better time than the boats ; and the trains glide on through the winter, while the lake is a frozen plain of snow.

To the east I have seen similar changes occur, though I cannot mark so perfectly their course. For here the view is much obstructed by hills and mountains.

Of the distant mountain ranges the old Pine knows but little. I do not often concern myself with what is going on beyond my immediate vicinity. This may not have been always so, but in late years I have become so much interested in the valley directly to my east, that I give but little attention to the rest of the world. There is nothing in this valley itself so very remarkable, although it is an exceedingly pretty one, as are many others that I look down upon. But in it rests a home that centres the affection of all who are acquainted with its inmates. You can see it now as it shows on the lower hills Avhich help to form the valley. Even from here you may notice that it is more handsomely adorned with trees and plants, and more tidily kept than the other homes that we can see.

Twenty-three years ago a gentleman came to town and purchased the farm where this home is. It was said that he had traveled considerably abroad, and had some reputation as an author. Shortly after this purchase he married the daughter of a neighboring clergyman, and, with his wife, moved upon the farm, that from its location was always an unusually attractive one. Two years later the cottage was built, where the three sisters were born who have brought to this valley so much of happiness and delight.

When the first child began to play upon the lawn, it came from the elm that stands beyond the house that her name was ELLEN. Three years more and a second child was old enough to walk, not so winsome and agile as the first, but all the flowers and the grasses of the valley agreed that she was very beautiful.

In the meantime Ellen wandered in the fields, and long distances down the road. The old Pine saw her and loved. For I noticed how true her step was, and I noticed the thousand acts of kindness that she showed to tree or brook or stone or flower. She moved with the power of love, always considering the wants and happiness of others, and, as a necessary sequence, — for nature is full of surprises, and makes no omissions in the distribution of her rewards, — everything loved Ellen.

And so Ellen grew, each day adding to her graces and her good report. Then the word was spread over valley and mountain that Ellen had another sister. A few months after, death first entered the cottage, gathering to his fold the husband and father. Thus came sorrow and mourning. But as the months and years flew by, brighter colors again prevailed and song and laughter were heard anew.

At an early age all the sisters attended the district school. Here, as everywhere, almost from the start, Ellen was the leader, guiding, directing, encouraging, ordering, so that the old Pine was not surprised to perceive that when still very young she had become the teacher.

As yet she had not ascended our mountain. But I had seen her often look up here, and I noticed that as she grew older she tramped more and more through the valleys, and explored further and further up the hills, so that I was not very much surprised one day to see her emerge from the bushes upon our rocks. But I was surprised when I saw how dazzlingly perfect was this child of the valley. She bounded to the highest point of rock and gazed at the wonderful panorama. For a long time she looked ; then, descending, approached me.

"And who are you, great, big old tree, pray tell me?" she said.

"I am the old Pine," I answered, "that has watched over these valleys since long before you were born."

" And have they changed very much? " she asked.

"They have changed," I replied, "from a forest to the countrv vou now see."

"Then there were no girls like me when you first knew them? "

" None," I answered.

"But there were a great many beautiful pines lifting their tops above the other trees?"

"Yes," I answered; "and most of them are gone, and instead are the farms and villages."

"But the streams," she said, "flowed then as now; the clouds rose as lightly, and the storms beat as loudly, did they not, old Pine? The sun, too, shone by day, and the moon and all the innumerable stars by night, uttering their noiseless light, precisely as they do now?"

"Yes," I said.

"So that the principal difference is in the homes that abound where once was forest, and the people that occupy them ?"

"Yes," I said; "and now will you not tell the old Pine what your name is, and where you come from?"

" My name is Ellen," she said, "and I come from yonder pretty valley. That house down there among the trees is my home."

"But," I said, "I have noticed three children playing about that house. Perhaps the other two are your sisters."

"Yes," she said, "they are my sisters."

"And what are their ages?" I asked.

"One of them is thirteen, the other eight."

"And what is your age?"

"I am sixteen," she answered. "Don't you think I am a pretty large girl for my age? Mother says I am, and the elm that lives above our house said I was the tallest girl in the valley.

Do you know the elm that lives above our house, Mr. Pine?"

" Only by sight," I said.

"He's a very polite tree," she continued, "but I like the beech better, that's down in the meadow near the brook, where the path turns to come upon this mountain."

"And why do you like the beech better?" I asked.

"Because he is quieter," she replied, "and raises so many nuts for the squirrels. What do you do, Mr. Pine, up here on this mountain-top?"

"I praise God," I said, "from whom all blessings flow."

"And how do you do this?" she asked.

"By performing the duties of my life," I answered. "The old Pine knows no other way in which it can be done."

"And aren't you going to ask me, Mr. Pine," she said, "to sit down in your house and get rested? I would like to know if hospitality isn't one of the duties of your life."

" It must be one of the duties of every life," I answered. "Will you please take your hat off and be seated?"

"And where shall I put my hat," she asked, "or where shall I be seated? "

"Why," I answered, "you can throw your hat upon the rocks, and sit right down here by my trunk, or anywhere you like under the broad shadow of my limbs."

" Very well, Mr. Pine," she continued, "I will hang my hat upon these rocks and sit down on this stone. And now I think it must be one of your duties to entertain me, for I have come a long way to visit you. It was hardly more for Columbus to sail away upon the ocean in quest of an unknown land, than for me to venture into the great forest and come up here. And you haven't praised me a bit for either my courage or my achievement. Don't you think, Mr. Pine, that I deserve some praise?"

"You certainly do," I answered, "and the old Pine will hasten to compliment you upon your bravery, courage, and beaut}'."

"And why my beauty, Mr. Pine?" she asked; "there has been nothing said about beauty. Will the old Pine please tell Ellen what the beautiful is?"

"Thou art the beautiful," I said.

" I am not the beautiful," she said ; " nor does Ellen think it is a compliment to be called the beautiful. Have you not read :

( Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good, A shining gloss that fadeth suddenly, A flower that dies when first it 'gins to bud, A brittle glass that's broken presently, A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.' "

"And what art thou, sweetheart, then?" I asked.

"There is something better than the beautiful, old Pine," she said.

"And art thou that which is better than the beautiful?" I asked. But she did not answer.

"Old Pine," she continued, " please tell me why you called me the beautiful. And then please tell me what the beautiful is."

"I have called you beautiful," I replied, "because you are •beautiful. Never has the old Pine seen such beautv of form or feature. The old Pine thinks that anything is beautiful in so far as it is adapted to the purposes for which it was created. '

"And pray, Mr. Pine, for what purpose do you think that I was created?"

"You were created," I said, "to make the world better, happier and more beautiful, now and in coming generations. Thou art of infinite worth — 'the ever womanly that draws us above.' "

"But," she said, "the old Pine almost takes Ellen's breath away with so much of compliment. The ever womanly should be and must be the ever good. Ellen is very willing to be called the ever womanly."

"And," I said, "the old Pine sees that your mind is equal to the beauty of your person — that you are fitted for the highest station, and must become a superb and accomplished woman/"

"Oh, stop, old Pine! " she cried. "Ellen doesn't know what you mean by these words ; but if you mean aught that connects with wealth and its vanities they are worse than idle. She hates all that."

"But," I said, " Ellen, the old Pine knows too much to suppose that you would care for the frivolities of life. The greatest of all accomplishments is the knowledge of one's duties. Ellen would be superb to the old Pine whatever she did or wherever she went. Now the old Pine thinks she will be called to the higher spheres of life, and he knows that she will adorn whatever station she may occupy."

"Please stop. Mr. Pine. Can't you see that Ellen doesn't like such flattery? Don't you see that it annoys her? I love my home and all its surroundings. And when I am grown up

— if I live to grow up — I hope to keep the same home, or have another like it among these hills. Ellen wants no higher sphere than she has now. She doesn't think that there is any higher. The highest sphere is the sphere in which we serve God best. This can be any sphere. And certainly there could be none where it ought to be more easily done than in our own beautiful valley, and among these sublime mountains."

"Then, Ellen," I said, "you think there is no better field for life and its development than here?"

"There can be no better," she replied.

"And how would you live this life, Ellen?" I asked.

"Just as I have lived it, Mr. Pine. I would try to make some improvement each da}'. If the beautiful sun shed its light over our sweet valley, I would be out with it gathering health and wealth."

"But supposing it rained, Ellen?"

" When it rains I work indoors, old Pine, unless there is some object to go out in the rain. Ellen isn't much afraid of rain. Quite often I look up at it and let it kiss my cheeks ; it seems so funny."

"And if it snows, Ellen? "

"Ellen cares less for snow than she does for rain, old Pine. I most always go out when it snows. I love to put my feet in it and let it cover my socks, and get up on my dresses, and my cloak, and my hat, and crawl down on my cheeks, and get into my eyes, and up my wrists, old Pine, and all over me. I just love it."

"And the nights, Ellen?"

"The nights arc pretty good to work in, old Pine, especially the winter nights. I think, old Pine, that ever)' one ought to

WHISPERINGS OF AN OLD PINE II

make some improvement every day. It is work that brings success, old Pine."

" But what is success, Ellen?"

" In life, old Pine?"

" Yes, in life."

"The being useful, I think, old Pine."

" To whom, Ellen? "

"To all, old Pine."

"And how useful, Ellen?"

"By doing good."

"And what must be the preparation, Ellen?"

" It cannot be too great, old Pine. And so, now, hear what Ellen says, and don't ask her any more questions. The secret of success is work. And Ellen is always at work, except when she is at play, or talking to you. I would add every day to my store of knowledge, old Pine. I would add every day, if I could, to my store of health. And if I were older, and had the opportunity, I would add every day to my store of wealth, for so, too, I would become strong, and better able to lead a useful life."

"Made for quite a thrifty girl, Ellen," I said.

"I guess so, old Pine. So please don't ever annoy me again about suggestions of pomp and nonsense, for I hate them. And I would rather a thousand times, yes, a million times, be a useful girl spinning flax than a useless queen."

" Why stop at a million, Ellen?"

"I don't stop at a million, old Pine. Words cannot express the difference between what is useful and what is useless. So, now, good-by, Mr. Pine."

" Good-by," I said; '-'but the old Pine doesn't like to be misunderstood, and least of all by thee. If possible he cares less for pomp or nonsense than Ellen does herself. Why shouldn't he? Of what use would display be to me up here upon this infinitely grand old mountain? — the pride of splendor or the affluence of wealth ! The old Pine measures all these for what they are worth ; if unwisely used to obtain happiness, worse than nothing. So, too, in regard to office : only honorable or desirable when properly obtained and justly administered. And nothing can be more pitiful than pride of birth, unsustained by merit.

' The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that.'

And Ellen has rightly criticised the useless. But all of this leads up to the great questions, does it not, of what life is, what its object, and what becomes of it?"

II

^HPHEN Ellen will not say good-by," she said, "for the old * Pine has opened a most interesting discussion. And Ellen will sit clown again ; and you shall talk, old Pine, and answer those questions. Please now begin, for Ellen is all attention. What is life ? "

"It is a permission," I said, "to do what one will for a limited time. Its principal attribute is a power of choosing."

"The old Pine is quite ingenious," she replied, "but Ellen thinks there is a better answer."

"Then Ellen shall tell the old Pine. What is life?"

" It is a creation," she said.

"But if life is a creation," I said, "there must be a creator."

"Yes," she said, "there must be a creator."

"And there must be a designer; for it is impossible that anything can be created until first it has been designed."

" It is unquestionably impossible," she replied, "to our understanding. For in this world whatever is created is always first designed. Nothing intelligible or useful can come without design. Design precedes and must precede all creation. It is impossible for the human intellect to conceive of any different conditions in the greater creation. There, too, design must precede creation, and hence there must be a designer and creator. And this designer and creator is God."

" But, Ellen," I said, " here on earth there arc many designers and many artisans. Indeed, all sentient creatures seem endowed with something" of this designing faculty. Could this not also be true in the greater creation?"

" Unquestionably," she replied, "there are man}' designers and many artisans besides those that exist on earth. Ellen has no doubt that every world teems with them."

"And," I said, "the number of these worlds is very large."

"Yes," she said, "like the sands of the seashore, they are innumerable."

"Then why does Ellen say that the designer and creator is God, thus making one intelligence perform what the reasoning would show might be the work of many?"