

E-text prepared by David Clarke, Martin Pettit, and the Project Gutenberg
Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from digital
material generously made available by Internet Archive/American Libraries
(http://www.archive.org/details/americana)



Note: Images of the original pages are available through
      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
      http://www.archive.org/details/ifyesperhaps00halerich





IF, YES, AND PERHAPS.

Four Possibilities and Six Exaggerations, with Some Bits of Fact.

by

EDWARD E. HALE.







Boston:
Fields, Osgood, & Co.,
Successors To Ticknor and Fields.
1869.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by
Ticknor and Fields,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District
of Massachusetts.

University Press: Welch, Bigelow, & Co., Cambridge.




DEDICATION.


I dedicate this book to the youngest of my friends, now two hours old.
Fun, fact, and fancy,--may his fresh life mix the three in their just
proportions.

MILTON, June 6, 1868.




PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.


The title to this book has met with general opprobrium, except in a few
quarters, where it was fortunately regarded as beneath contempt. Colonel
Ingham even exacted an explanation by telegraph from the Editor, when he
learned from the Governor-General of Northern Siberia what the title
was. This explanation the Editor gave in the following note. It is,
however, impossible to change the title, as he proposes. For reasons
known to all statesmen, it is out of the question to swap horses in
crossing a river; and all publishers know that it is equally impossible
to change titles under those circumstances.


                                             BOSTON, October 17, 1868.
     MY DEAR COLONEL INGHAM:--

     I have your note complaining of the sensational title, "somewhat
     affected," as you think, which I gave to our little story-book. Of
     course I am sorry you do not like the name; but, while you strike,
     I beg you to hear.

     I readily acceded to your original title, and called the book in
     manuscript as you bade me,--

     "A Few Short Sketches taken from Ancient History, Modern Travel,
     and the Realm of Imagination, Illustrative of the Poetry of the
     Bible, the History of Christianity, the Manners of the Times, and
     the Politics of the Present and Past Generations."

     This title would, I admit, meet the views of most of our present
     critics. But I abandoned it on my own responsibility,--you being
     then beyond the telegraph, at the mouth of the Oby River,--because
     it occurred to me, that, under the catalogue rules of Panizzi and
     the lamented Jewett, we should be indexed and catalogued at "Few."
     I did not think that a good omen.

     Relinquishing, therefore, the effort at description of subject, I
     tried description of object, and determined on this:--

     "Moral Sketches of Human Society, in the Past, the Present, and
     Imagined Worlds." By F. I., &c., &c., &c.

     But, as I slept and waked on this, I said, "Who knows that these
     are _moral_ sketches?" We wished them to be moral, but Ingham's
     have been attacked by such patient critics as read them as being
     immoral, while many of the sketches seem to have no moral at all.
     Who are we, to claim that we have attained a moral standard?

     Waking and sleeping once more, I asked myself, "What are the
     things,--poor, nameless heathen children, that can get no sponsor
     and no Christian baptism?"

     I said, in reply, that at least one of them was the living truth,
     so far as it could be squeezed out of blue books and the most
     proper of documents. Others might have been true, if the destinies
     had so willed. Others would have been true, had they not been
     untrue. Others should have been true, had poetical justice been the
     working rule of a vulgar world.

     "Might, Could, Would, or Should," then, would have been an
     available name for most of them,--unless one took from the older
     grammars the title of "The Potential Mood."

     But, you observe, my dear Ingham, that our little story-book is
     destined mostly for young readers, who know no more of "The
     Potential Mood" than they know of the surrender of Cornwallis (this
     day celebrated). And, besides, we have some facts in the treatise
     which are not hypothetical. Why ignore them? Do you not see that
     your miserable suggestion of "The Potential Mood" is as worthless
     as it is sensational and fails as not comprehensive, inadequate,
     unintelligible, and not true?

     For these reasons I settled on the plain, straightforward title of
     unadorned truth, viz. "Four Possibilities, Six Exaggerations, and
     some Bits of Fact"; and with this we went to the publisher. But, as
     I entered his shop, a boy from Dutton's rushed in with his
     order-book, and cried:--

     "I want seventy _Chimes_ and ninety _Ivanhoe_."

     "What," said I, "if, by any good fortune, it had been our
     story-book that was wanted, this boy would then have called for

     "'Seventy Four Possibilities.' Can there be so many in a world
     which runs in grooves? Will he even get the number that he needs of
     our treatises? Alexander a robber! Let me reflect."

     Reflecting thus, I determined that the title of a book must be,--


     1. Brief.
     2. Intelligible.
     3. Suggestive.
     4. It must not begin with a numeral.


     I took a Tremont Street car and returned home.

     "What," I said in the night-watches, "is the brief expression of a
     possibility? Surely it is in the word PERHAPS.

     "What of a fact?

     "Surely it is YES.

     "What of an exaggeration? Why, it is that which would be true If it
     had not been overstated. Our title then, clearly, is


                        "PERHAPS, YES, AND IF."


     I see that the critics would have been better satisfied with this.
     But, on the principle of the little elephants sacrificing
     themselves in the passage of a river, Mr. Fields and I determined
     to start the smallest word first, and thus to drive a gentle wedge
     into the close chasm of the public favor. Sensitive, however, as I
     am, dear Ingham, to your criticism, I will at the earliest
     opportunity consult with him as to a return to the original
     title:--

     "A Few Sketches * * * Illustrative," &c., &c., &c.

     Or might we not let the one word "Etcetera" stand alone? Or thus,
     with the stars, "* * * &c., &c., &c."?

     Truly yours,
     E. E. HALE.




CONTENTS.

                                           PAGE
   THE CHILDREN OF THE PUBLIC                 1

   A PIECE OF POSSIBLE HISTORY               58

   THE SOUTH AMERICAN EDITOR                 78

   THE OLD AND THE NEW, FACE TO FACE        100

   THE DOT AND LINE ALPHABET                116

   THE LAST VOYAGE OF THE RESOLUTE          130

   MY DOUBLE, AND HOW HE UNDID ME           171

   THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY                199

   THE LAST OF THE FLORIDA                  242

   THE SKELETON IN THE CLOSET               253

   CHRISTMAS WAITS IN BOSTON                270




THE CHILDREN OF THE PUBLIC.


     [This story originated in the advertisement of the humbug which it
     describes. Some fifteen or twenty years since, when gift
     enterprises rose to one of their climaxes, a gift of a large sum of
     money, I think $10,000, was offered in New York to the most
     successful ticket-holder in some scheme, and one of $5,000 to the
     second. It was arranged that one of these parties should be a man
     and the other a woman; and the amiable suggestion was added, on the
     part of the undertaker of the enterprise, that if the gentleman and
     lady who drew these prizes liked each other sufficiently well when
     the distribution was made, they might regard the decision as a
     match made for them in Heaven, and take the money as the dowry of
     the bride. This thoroughly practical, and, at the same time,
     thoroughly absurd suggestion, arrested the attention of a
     distinguished story-teller, a dear friend of mine, who proposed to
     me that we should each of us write the history of one of the two
     successful parties, to be woven together by their union at the end.
     The plan, however, lay latent for years,--the gift enterprise of
     course blew up,--and it was not until the summer of 1862 that I
     wrote my half of the proposed story, with the hope of eliciting the
     other half. My friend's more important engagements, however, have
     thus far kept Fausta's detailed biography from the light. I sent my
     half to Mr. Frank Leslie, in competition for a premium offered by
     him, as is stated in the second chapter of the story. And the story
     found such favor in the eyes of the judges, that it received one of
     his second premiums. The first was very properly awarded to Miss
     Louisa Alcott, for a story of great spirit and power. "The
     Children of the Public" was printed in Frank Leslie's Illustrated
     Newspaper for January 24 and January 31, 1863. The moral which it
     tries to illustrate, which is, I believe, an important one, was
     thus commended to the attention of the very large circle of the
     readers of that journal,--a journal to which I am eager to say I
     think this nation has been very largely indebted for the loyalty,
     the good sense, and the high tone which seem always to characterize
     it. During the war, the pictorial journals had immense influence in
     the army, and they used this influence with an undeviating regard
     to the true honor of the country.]




CHAPTER I.

THE PORK-BARREL.


"Felix," said my wife to me, as I came home to-night, "you will have to
go to the pork-barrel."

"Are you quite sure," said I,--"quite sure? 'Woe to him,' says the
oracle, 'who goes to the pork-barrel before the moment of his need.'"

"And woe to him, say I," replied my brave wife,--"woe and disaster to
him; but the moment of our need has come. The figures are here, and you
shall see. I have it all in black