Twice-Told Tales

by Nathaniel Hawthorne

  THE GREAT CARBUNCLE[1]

  A MYSTERY OF THE WHITE MOUNTAINS

  [1] The Indian tradition, on which this somewhat extravagant taleis founded, is both too wild and too beautiful to be adequatelywrought up in prose. Sullivan, in his History of Maine, writtensince the Revolution, remarks, that even then the existence ofthe Great Carbuncle was not entirely discredited.

  At nightfall, once in the olden time, on the rugged side of oneof the Crystal Hills, a party of adventurers were refreshingthemselves, after a toilsome and fruitless quest for the GreatCarbuncle. They had come thither, not as friends nor partners inthe enterprise, but each, save one youthful pair, impelled by hisown selfish and solitary longing for this wondrous gem. Theirfeeling of brotherhood, however, was strong enough to induce themto contribute a mutual aid in building a rude hut of branches,and kindling a great fire of shattered pines, that had drifteddown the headlong current of the Amonoosuck, on the lower bank ofwhich they were to pass the night. There was but one of theirnumber, perhaps, who had become so estranged from naturalsympathies, by the absorbing spell of the pursuit, as toacknowledge no satisfaction at the sight of human faces, in theremote and solitary region whither they had ascended. A vastextent of wilderness lay between them and the nearest settlement,while a scant mile above their heads was that black verge wherethe hills throw off their shaggy mantle of forest trees, andeither robe themselves in clouds or tower naked into the sky. Theroar of the Amonoosuck would have been too awful for endurance ifonly a solitary man had listened, while the mountain streamtalked with the wind.

  The adventurers, therefore, exchanged hospitable greetings, andwelcomed one another to the hut, where each man was the host, andall were the guests of the whole company. They spread theirindividual supplies of food on the flat surface of a rock, andpartook of a general repast; at the close of which, a sentimentof good fellowship was perceptible among the party, thoughrepressed by the idea, that the renewed search for the GreatCarbuncle must make them strangers again in the morning. Sevenmen and one young woman, they warmed themselves together at thefire, which extended its bright wall along the whole front oftheir wigwam. As they observed the various and contrasted figuresthat made up the assemblage, each man looking like a caricatureof himself, in the unsteady light that flickered over him, theycame mutually to the conclusion, that an odder society had nevermet, in city or wilderness, on mountain or plain.

  The eldest of the group, a tall, lean, weather-beaten man, somesixty years of age, was clad in the skins of wild animals, whosefashion of dress he did well to imitate, since the deer, thewolf, and the bear, had long been his most intimate companions.He was one of those ill-fated mortals, such as the Indians toldof, whom, in their early youth, the Great Carbuncle smote with apeculiar madness, and became the passionate dream of theirexistence. All who visited that region knew him as the Seeker,and by no other name. As none could remember when he first tookup the search, there went a fable in the valley of the Saco, thatfor his inordinate lust after the Great Carbuncle, he had beencondemned to wander among the mountains till the end of time,still with the same feverish hopes at sunrise--the same despairat eve. Near this miserable Seeker sat a little elderlypersonage, wearing a high-crowned hat, shaped somewhat like acrucible. He was from beyond the sea, a Doctor Cacaphodel, whohad wilted and dried himself into a mummy by continually stoopingover charcoal furnaces, and inhaling unwholesome fumes during hisresearches in chemistry and alchemy. It was told of him, whethertruly or not, that at the commencement of his studies, he haddrained his body of all its richest blood, and wasted it, withother inestimable ingredients, in an unsuccessful experiment--andhad never been a well man since. Another of the adventurers wasMaster Ichabod Pigsnort, a weighty merchant and selectman ofBoston, and an elder of the famous Mr. Norton's church. Hisenemies had a ridiculous story that Master Pigsnort wasaccustomed to spend a whole hour after prayer time, every morningand evening, in wallowing naked among an immense quantity ofpine-tree shillings, which were the earliest silver coinage ofMassachusetts. The fourth whom we shall notice had no name thathis companions knew of, and was chiefly distinguished by a sneerthat always contorted his thin visage, and by a prodigious pairof spectacles, which were supposed to deform and discolor thewhole face of nature, to this gentleman's perception. The fifthadventurer likewise lacked a name, which was the greater pity, ashe appeared to be a poet. He was a bright-eyed man, but wofullypined away, which was no more than natural, if, as some peopleaffirmed, his ordinary diet was fog, morning mist, and a slice ofthe densest cloud within his reach, sauced with moonshine,whenever he could get it. Certain it is, that the poetry whichflowed from him had a smack of all these dainties The sixth ofthe party was a young man of haughty mien, and sat somewhat apartfrom the rest, wearing his plumed hat loftily among his elders,while the fire glittered on the rich embroidery of his dress, andgleamed intensely on the jewelled pommel of his sword. This wasthe Lord de Vere, who, when at home, was said to spend much ofhis time in the burial vault of his dead progenitors, rummagingtheir mouldy coffins in search of all the earthly pride andvainglory that was hidden among bones and dust; so that, besideshis own share, he had the collected haughtiness of his whole lineof ancestry.

  Lastly, there was a handsome youth in rustic garb, and by hisside a blooming little person, in whom a delicate shade of maidenreserve was just melting into the rich glow of a young wife'saffection. Her name was Hannah and her husband's Matthew; twohomely names, yet well enough adapted to the simple pair, whoseemed strangely out of place among the whimsical fraternitywhose wits had been set agog by the Great Carbuncle.

  Beneath the shelter of one hut, in the bright blaze of the samefire, sat this varied group of adventurers, all so intent upon asingle object, that, of whatever else they began to speak, theirclosing words were sure to be illuminated with the GreatCarbuncle. Several related the circumstances that brought themthither. One had listened to a traveller's tale of thismarvellous stone in his own distant country, and had immediatelybeen seized with such a thirst for beholding it as could only bequenched in its intensest lustre. Another, so long ago as whenthe famous Captain Smith visited these coasts, had seen itblazing far at sea, and had felt no rest in all the interveningyears till now that he took up the search. A third, beingencamped on a hunting expedition full forty miles south of theWhite Mountains, awoke at midnight, and beheld the GreatCarbuncle gleaming like a meteor, so that the shadows of thetrees fell backward from it. They spoke of the innumerableattempts which had been made to reach the spot, and of thesingular fatality which had hitherto withheld success from alladventurers, though it might seem so easy to follow to its sourcea light that overpowered the moon, and almost matched the sun. Itwas observable that each smiled scornfully at the madness ofevery other in anticipating better fortune than the past, yetnourished a scarcely hidden conviction that he would himself bethe favored one. As if to allay their too sanguine hopes, theyrecurred to the Indian traditions that a spirit kept watch aboutthe gem, and bewildered those who sought it either by removing itfrom peak to peak of the higher hills, or by calling up a mistfrom the enchanted lake over which it hung. But these tales weredeemed unworthy of credit, all professing to believe that thesearch had been baffled by want of sagacity or perseverance inthe adventurers, or such other causes as might naturally obstructthe passage to any given point among the intricacies of forest,valley, and mountain.

  In a pause of the conversation the wearer of the prodigiousspectacles looked round upon the party, making each individual,in turn, the object of the sneer which invariably dwelt upon hiscountenance.

  "So, fellow-pilgrims," said he, "here we are, seven wise men, andone fair damsel--who, doubtless, is as wise as any graybeard ofthe company: here we are, I say, all bound on the same goodlyenterprise. Methinks, now, it were not amiss that each of usdeclare what he proposes to do with the Great Carbuncle, providedhe have the good hap to clutch it. What says our friend in thebear skin? How mean you, good sir, to enjoy the prize which youhave been seeking, the L
ord knows how long, among the CrystalHills?"

  "How enjoy it!" exclaimed the aged Seeker, bitterly. "I hope forno enjoyment from it; that folly has passed long ago! I keep upthe search for this accursed stone because the vain ambition ofmy youth has become a fate upon me in old age. The pursuit aloneis my strength,--the energy of my soul,--the warmth of myblood,--and the pith and marrow of my bones! Were I to turn myback upon it I should fall down dead on the hither side of theNotch, which is the gateway of this mountain region. Yet not tohave my wasted lifetime back again would I give up my hopes ofthe Great Carbuncle! Having found it, I shall bear it to acertain cavern that I wot of, and there, grasping it in my arms,lie down and die, and keep it buried with me forever."

  "O wretch, regardless of the interests of science!" cried DoctorCacaphodel, with philosophic indignation. "Thou art not worthy tobehold, even from afar off, the lustre of this most precious gemthat ever was concocted in the laboratory of Nature. Mine is thesole purpose for which a wise man may desire the possession ofthe Great Carbuncle. Immediately on obtaining it--for I have apresentiment, good people that the prize is reserved to crown myscientific reputation--I shall return to Europe, and employ myremaining years in reducing it to its first elements. A portionof the stone will I grind to impalpable powder; other parts shallbe dissolved in acids, or whatever solvents will act upon soadmirable a composition; and the remainder I design to melt inthe crucible, or set on fire with the blow-pipe. By these variousmethods I shall gain an accurate analysis, and finally bestow theresult of my labors upon the world in a folio volume."

  "Excellent!" quoth the man with the spectacles. "Nor need youhesitate, learned sir, on account of the necessary destruction ofthe gem; since the perusal of your folio may teach every mother'sson of us to concoct a Great Carbuncle of his own."

  "But, verily," said Master Ichabod Pigsnort, "for mine own part Iobject to the making of these counterfeits, as being calculatedto reduce the marketable value of the true gem. I tell yefrankly, sirs, I have an interest in keeping up the price. Herehave I quitted my regular traffic, leaving my warehouse in thecare of my clerks, and putting my credit to great hazard, and,furthermore, have put myself in peril of death or captivity bythe accursed heathen savages--and all this without daring to askthe prayers of the congregation, because the quest for the GreatCarbuncle is deemed little better than a traffic with the EvilOne. Now think ye that I would have done this grievous wrong tomy soul, body, reputation, and estate, without a reasonablechance of profit?"

  "Not I, pious Master Pigsnort," said the man with the spectacles."I never laid such a great folly to thy charge."

  "Truly, I hope not," said the merchant. "Now, as touching thisGreat Carbuncle, I am free to own that I have never had a glimpseof it; but be it only the hundredth part so bright as peopletell, it will surely outvalue the Great Mogul's best diamond,which he holds at an incalculable sum. Wherefore, I am minded toput the Great Carbuncle on shipboard, and voyage with it toEngland, France, Spain, Italy, or into Heathendom, if Providenceshould send me thither, and, in a word, dispose of the gem to thebest bidder among the potentates of the earth, that he may placeit among his crown jewels. If any of ye have a wiser plan, lethim expound it."

  "That have I, thou sordid man!" exclaimed the poet. "Dost thoudesire nothing brighter than gold that thou wouldst transmute allthis ethereal lustre into such dross as thou wallowest inalready? For myself, hiding the jewel under my cloak, I shall hieme back to my attic chamber, in one of the darksome alleys ofLondon. There, night and day, will I gaze upon it; my soul shalldrink its radiance; it shall be diffused throughout myintellectual powers, and gleam brightly in every line of poesythat I indite. Thus, long ages after I am gone, the splendor ofthe Great Carbuncle will blaze around my name!"

  "Well said, Master Poet!" cried he of the spectacles. "Hide itunder thy cloak, sayest thou? Why, it will gleam through theholes, and make thee look like a jack-o'-lantern!"

  "To think!" ejaculated the Lord de Vere, rather to himself thanhis companions, the best of whom he held utterly unworthy of hisintercourse--"to think that a fellow in a tattered cloak shouldtalk of conveying the Great Carbuncle to a garret in Grub Street!Have not I resolved within myself that the whole earth containsno fitter ornament for the great hall of my ancestral castle?There shall it flame for ages, making a noonday of midnight,glittering on the suits of armor, the banners, and escutcheons,that hang around the wall, and keeping bright the memory ofheroes. Wherefore have all other adventurers sought the prize invain but that I might win it, and make it a symbol of the gloriesof our lofty line? And never, on the diadem of the WhiteMountains, did the Great Carbuncle hold a place half so honoredas is reserved for it in the hall of the De Veres!"

  "It is a noble thought," said the Cynic, with an obsequioussneer. "Yet, might I presume to say so, the gem would make a raresepulchral lamp, and would display the glories of your lordship'sprogenitors more truly in the ancestral vault than in the castlehall."

  "Nay, forsooth," observed Matthew, the young rustic, who sat handin hand with his bride, "the gentleman has bethought himself of aprofitable use for this bright stone. Hannah here and I areseeking it for a like purpose."

  "How, fellow!" exclaimed his lordship, in surprise. "What castlehall hast thou to hang it in?"

  "No castle," replied Matthew, "but as neat a cottage as anywithin sight of the Crystal Hills. Ye must know, friends, thatHannah and I, being wedded the last week, have taken up thesearch of the Great Carbuncle, because we shall need its light inthe long winter evenings; and it will be such a pretty thing toshow the neighbors when they visit us. It will shine through thehouse so that we may pick up a pin in any corner and will set allthe windows aglowing as if there were a great fire of pine knotsin the chimney. And then how pleasant, when we awake in thenight, to be able to see one another's faces!"

  There was a general smile among the adventurers at the simplicityof the young couple's project in regard to this wondrous andinvaluable stone, with which the greatest monarch on earth mighthave been proud to adorn his palace. Especially the man withspectacles, who had sneered at all the company in turn, nowtwisted his visage into such an expression of ill-natured mirth,that Matthew asked him, rather peevishly, what he himself meantto do with the Great Carbuncle.

  "The Great Carbuncle!" answered the Cynic, with ineffable scorn."Why, you blockhead, there is no such thing in rerum natura. Ihave come three thousand miles, and am resolved to set my foot onevery peak of these mountains, and poke my head into every chasm,for the sole purpose of demonstrating to the satisfaction of anyman one whit less an ass than thyself that the Great Carbuncle isall a humbug!"

  Vain and foolish were the motives that had brought most of theadventurers to the Crystal Hills; but none so vain, so foolish,and so impious too, as that of the scoffer with the prodigiousspectacles. He was one of those wretched and evil men whoseyearnings are downward to the darkness, instead of heavenward,and who, could they but extinguish the lights which God hathkindled for us, would count the midnight gloom their chiefestglory. As the Cynic spoke, several of the party were startled bya gleam of red splendor, that showed the huge shapes of thesurrounding mountains and the rock-bestrewn bed of the turbulentriver with an illumination unlike that of their fire on thetrunks and black boughs of the forest trees. They listened forthe roll of thunder, but heard nothing, and were glad that thetempest came not near them. The stars, those dial points ofheaven, now warned the adventurers to close their eyes on theblazing logs, and open them, in dreams, to the glow of the GreatCarbuncle.

  The young married couple had taken their lodgings in the farthestcorner of the wigwam, and were separated from the rest of theparty by a curtain of curiously-woven twigs, such as might havehung, in deep festoons, around the bridal-bower of Eve. Themodest little wife had wrought this piece of tapestry while theother guests were talking. She and her husband fell asleep withhands tenderly clasped, and awoke from visions of unearthlyradiance to meet the more blessed light of one another's eyes.They awoke at
the same instant, and with one happy smile beamingover their two faces, which grew brighter with theirconsciousness of the reality of life and love. But no sooner didshe recollect where they were, than the bride peeped through theinterstices of the leafy curtain, and saw that the outer room ofthe hut was deserted.

  "Up, dear Matthew!" cried she, in haste. "The strange folk areall gone! Up, this very minute, or we shall lose the GreatCarbuncle!"

  In truth, so little did these poor young people deserve themighty prize which had lured them thither, that they had sleptpeacefully all night, and till the summits of the hills wereglittering with sunshine; while the other adventurers had tossedtheir limbs in feverish wakefulness, or dreamed of climbingprecipices, and set off to realize their dreams with the earliestpeep of dawn. But Matthew and Hannah, after their calm rest, wereas light as two young deer, and merely stopped to say theirprayers and wash themselves in a cold pool of the Amonoosuck, andthen to taste a morsel of food, ere they turned their faces tothe mountain-side. It was a sweet emblem of conjugal affection,as they toiled up the difficult ascent, gathering strength fromthe mutual aid which they afforded. After several littleaccidents, such as a torn robe, a lost shoe, and the entanglementof Hannah's hair in a bough, they reached the upper verge of theforest, and were now to pursue a more adventurous course. Theinnumerable trunks and heavy foliage of the trees had hithertoshut in their thoughts, which now shrank affrighted from theregion of wind and cloud and naked rocks and desolate sunshine,that rose immeasurably above them. They gazed back at the obscurewilderness which they had traversed, and longed to be buriedagain in its depths rather than trust themselves to so vast andvisible a solitude.

  "Shall we go on?" said Matthew, throwing his arm round Hannah'swaist, both to protect her and to comfort his heart by drawingher close to it.

  But the little bride, simple as she was, had a woman's love ofjewels, and could not forego the hope of possessing the verybrightest in the world, in spite of the perils with which it mustbe won.

  "Let us climb a little higher," whispered she, yet tremulously,as she turned her face upward to the lonely sky.

  "Come, then," said Matthew, mustering his manly courage anddrawing her along with him, for she became timid again the momentthat he grew bold.

  And upward, accordingly, went the pilgrims of the GreatCarbuncle, now treading upon the tops and thickly-interwovenbranches of dwarf pines, which, by the growth of centuries,though mossy with age, had barely reached three feet in altitude.Next, they came to masses and fragments of naked rock heapedconfusedly together, like a cairn reared by giants in memory of agiant chief. In this bleak realm of upper air nothing breathed,nothing grew; there was no life but what was concentrated intheir two hearts; they had climbed so high that Nature herselfseemed no longer to keep them company. She lingered beneath them,within the verge of the forest trees, and sent a farewell glanceafter her children as they strayed where her own green footprintshad never been. But soon they were to be hidden from her eyeDensely and dark the mists began to gather below, casting blackspots of shadow on the vast landscape, and sailing heavily to onecentre, as if the loftiest mountain peak had summoned a councilof its kindred clouds. Finally, the vapors welded themselves, asit were, into a mass, presenting the appearance of a pavementover which the wanderers might have trodden, but where they wouldvainly have sought an avenue to the blessed earth which they hadlost. And the lovers yearned to behold that green earth again,more intensely, alas! than, beneath a clouded sky, they had everdesired a glimpse of heaven. They even felt it a relief to theirdesolation when the mists, creeping gradually up the mountain,concealed its lonely peak, and thus annihilated, at least forthem, the whole region of visible space. But they drew closertogether, with a fond and melancholy gaze, dreading lest theuniversal cloud should snatch them from each other's sight.

  Still, perhaps, they would have been resolute to climb as far andas high, between earth and heaven, as they could find foothold,if Hannah's strength had not begun to fail, and with that, hercourage also. Her breath grew short. She refused to burden herhusband with her weight, but often tottered against his side, andrecovered herself each time by a feebler effort. At last, shesank down on one of the rocky steps of the acclivity.

  "We are lost, dear Matthew," said she, mournfully. "We shallnever find our way to the earth again. And oh how happy we mighthave been in our cottage!"

  "Dear heart!--we will yet be happy there," answered Matthew."Look! In this direction, the sunshine penetrates the dismalmist. By its aid, I can direct our course to the passage of theNotch. Let us go back, love, and dream no more of the GreatCarbuncle!"

  "The sun cannot be yonder," said Hannah, with despondence. "Bythis time it must be noon. If there could ever be any sunshinehere, it would come from above our heads."

  "But look!" repeated Matthew, in a somewhat altered tone. "It isbrightening every moment. If not sunshine, what can it be?"

  Nor could the young bride any longer deny that a radiance wasbreaking through the mist, and changing its dim hue to a duskyred, which continually grew more vivid, as if brilliant particleswere interfused with the gloom. Now, also, the cloud began toroll away from the mountain, while, as it heavily withdrew, oneobject after another started out of its impenetrable obscurityinto sight, with precisely the effect of a new creation, beforethe indistinctness of the old chaos had been completely swallowedup. As the process went on, they saw the gleaming of water closeat their feet, and found themselves on the very border of amountain lake, deep, bright, clear, and calmly beautiful,spreading from brim to brim of a basin that had been scooped outof the solid rock. A ray of glory flashed across its surface. Thepilgrims looked whence it should proceed, but closed their eyeswith a thrill of awful admiration, to exclude the fervid splendorthat glowed from the brow of a cliff impending over the enchantedlake. For the simple pair had reached that lake of mystery, andfound the longsought shrine of the Great Carbuncle!

  They threw their arms around each other, and trembled at theirown success; for, as the legends of this wondrous gem rushedthick upon their memory, they felt themselves marked out byfate--and the consciousness was fearful. Often, from childhoodupward, they had seen it shining like a distant star. And nowthat star was throwing its intensest lustre on their hearts. Theyseemed changed to one another's eyes, in the red brilliancy thatflamed upon their cheeks, while it lent the same fire to thelake, the rocks, and sky, and to the mists which had rolled backbefore its power. But, with their next glance, they beheld anobject that drew their attention even from the mighty stone. Atthe base of the cliff, directly beneath the Great Carbuncle,appeared the figure of a man, with his arms extended in the actof climbing, and his face turned upward, as if to drink the fullgush of splendor. But he stirred not, no more than if changed tomarble.

  "It is the Seeker," whispered Hannah, convulsively grasping herhusband's arm. "Matthew, he is dead."

  "The joy of success has killed him," replied Matthew, tremblingviolently. "Or, perhaps, the very light of the Great Carbunclewas death!"

  "The Great Carbuncle," cried a peevish voice behind them. "TheGreat Humbug! If you have found it, prithee point it out to me."

  They turned their heads, and there was the Cynic, with hisprodigious spectacles set carefully on his nose, staring now atthe lake, now at the rocks, now at the distant masses of vapor,now right at the Great Carbuncle itself, yet seemingly asunconscious of its light as if all the scattered clouds werecondensed about his person. Though its radiance actually threwthe shadow of the unbeliever at his own feet, as he turned hisback upon the glorious jewel, he would not be convinced thatthere was the least glimmer there.

  "Where is your Great Humbug?" he repeated. "I challenge you tomake me see it!"

  "There," said Matthew, incensed at such perverse blindness, andturning the Cynic round towards the illuminated cliff. "Take offthose abominable spectacles, and you cannot help seeing it!"

  Now these colored spectacles probably darkened the Cynic's sight,in at least as great a degree
as the smoked glasses through whichpeople gaze at an eclipse. With resolute bravado, however, hesnatched them from his nose, and fixed a bold stare full upon theruddy blaze of the Great Carbuncle. But scarcely had heencountered it, when, with a deep, shuddering groan, he droppedhis head, and pressed both hands across his miserable eyes.Thenceforth there was, in very truth, no light of the GreatCarbuncle, nor any other light on earth, nor light of heavenitself, for the poor Cynic. So long accustomed to view allobjects through a medium that deprived them of every glimpse ofbrightness, a single flash of so glorious a phenomenon, strikingupon his naked vision, had blinded him forever.

  "Matthew," said Hannah, clinging to him, "let us go hence!"

  Matthew saw that she was faint, and kneeling down, supported herin his arms, while he threw some of the thrillingly cold water ofthe enchanted lake upon her face and bosom. It revived her, butcould not renovate her courage.

  "Yes, dearest!" cried Matthew, pressing her tremulous form to hisbreast,--"we will go hence, and return to our humble cottage. Theblessed sunshine and the quiet moonlight shall come through ourwindow. We will kindle the cheerful glow of our hearth, ateventide, and be happy in its light. But never again will wedesire more light than all the world may share with us."

  "No," said his bride, "for how could we live by day, or sleep bynight, in this awful blaze of the Great Carbuncle!"

  Out of the hollow of their hands, they drank each a draught fromthe lake, which presented them its waters uncontaminated by anearthly lip. Then, lending their guidance to the blinded Cynic,who uttered not a word, and even stifled his groans in his ownmost wretched heart, they began to descend the mountain. Yet, asthey left the shore, till then untrodden, of the spirit's lake,they threw a farewell glance towards the cliff, and beheld thevapors gathering in dense volumes, through which the gem burnedduskily.

  As touching the other pilgrims of the Great Carbuncle, the legendgoes on to tell, that the worshipful Master Ichabod Pigsnort soongave up the quest as a desperate speculation, and wisely resolvedto betake himself again to his warehouse, near the town dock, inBoston. But, as he passed through the Notch of the mountains, awar party of Indians captured our unlucky merchant, and carriedhim to Montreal, there holding him in bondage, till, by thepayment of a heavy ransom, he had wofully subtracted from hishoard of pine-tree shillings. By his long absence, moreover, hisaffairs had become so disordered that, for the rest of his life,instead of wallowing in silver, he had seldom a sixpence worth ofcopper. Doctor Cacaphodel, the alchemist, returned to hislaboratory with a prodigious fragment of granite, which he groundto powder, dissolved in acids, melted in the crucible, and burnedwith the blow-pipe, and published the result of his experimentsin one of the heaviest folios of the day. And, for all thesepurposes, the gem itself could not have answered better than thegranite. The poet, by a somewhat similar mistake, made prize of agreat piece of ice, which he found in a sunless chasm of themountains and swore that it corresponded, in all points, with hisidea of the Great Carbuncle. The critics say, that, if his poetrylacked the splendor of the gem, it retained all the coldness ofthe ice. The Lord de Vere went back to his ancestral hall, wherehe contented himself with a wax-lighted chandelier, and filled,in due course of time, another coffin in the ancestral vault. Asthe funeral torches gleamed within that dark receptacle, therewas no need of the Great Carbuncle to show the vanity of earthlypomp.

  The Cynic, having cast aside his spectacles, wandered about theworld a miserable object, and was punished with an agonizingdesire of light, for the wilful blindness of his former life. Thewhole night long, he would lift his splendor-blasted orbs to themoon and stars; he turned his face eastward, at sunrise, as dulyas a Perisan idolater; he made a pilgrimage to Rome, to witnessthe magnificent illumination of St. Peter's Church; and finallyperished in the great fire of London, into the midst of which hehad thrust himself, with the desperate idea of catching onefeeble ray from the blaze that was kindling earth and heaven.

  Matthew and his bride spent many peaceful years, and were fond oftelling the legend of the Great Carbuncle. The tale, however,towards the close of their lengthened lives, did not meet withthe full credence that had been accorded to it by those whoremembered the ancient lustre of the gem. For it is affirmedthat, from the hour when two mortals had shown themselves sosimply wise as to reject a jewel which would have dimmed allearthly things, its splendor waned. When other pilgrims reachedthe cliff, they found only an opaque stone, with particles ofmica glittering on its surface. There is also a tradition that,as the youthful pair departed, the gem was loosened from theforehead of the cliff, and fell into the enchanted lake, andthat, at noontide, the Seeker's form may still be seen to bendover its quenchless gleam.

  Some few believe that this inestimable stone is blazing as ofold, and say that they have caught its radiance, like a flash ofsummer lightning, far down the valley of the Saco. And be itowned that, many a mile from the Crystal Hills, I saw a wondrouslight around their summits, and was lured, by the faith of poesy,to be the latest pilgrim of the GREAT CARBUNCLE.