interest, for everybody present, like myself, was uncertain and curious as to whether Bill's indignant and abrupt course had been the result of sheer simplicitymistaking the sense of the expression "madness,”—of a sagacious intuition of the treatment proper in such a case, or confidence in his own resources. For a minute or so the figures of the two men were tossed to and fro in the uncertain light, linked and writhing in a stern, silent, and desperate struggle. It seemed to me that Bill's object was to quell and overbear the madman by the weight of physical superiority without hurting him. I shuddered, when, as they whirled by close to me, I perceived the cause of the ominous silence of the madman. His teeth were clenched in the shoulder of the Trapper, whose pale face as it gleamed past was rigid and calm as ever. A sudden change came over the aspect of the combat. The two figures were perfectly still for a moment-then that of Black gradually sank towards the ground. I stepped close to them and saw that Bill, by the tremendous power of his hug, had paralyzed him by pressure on the spine. With his back bending in; the grip of his teeth loosened as he sank upon his knees. At that moment, while Bill stooped over him, their eyes met. The two figures seemed at once to be frozen into a death like pause, while their eyes were riveted upon each other. It seemed to me that those of Bill were emitting a keen and palpable flame that steadily searched the depths of the brain beneath him. There was something terrible and ghost-like in his white stony face, lit with that calm weird light, heightened by a broad fleck of the moon's rays that fell upon it through an opening in the trees. I could scarcely breathe with the excitement half of awe-which fell upon me as I looked on this intense scene. The glare of animal ferocity rapidly faded from the fascinated gaze of the madman-the spasmodic contraction of his features subsided-his muscles were unstrung from their tension. Bill, yet gazing steadily into his eyes, gently shook off his grasp as he loosened his own hold, and then straitening himself, lifted him slowly up with him to his feet. Black's spell-led eyes still followed the face of his conqueror for an instant-he then drew the back of his rough and gore-encrusted hand quickly across them, and, bursting into tears, with a convulsive sob that seemed to be tearing up the very founda

tions of his life, reeled to one side and fell heavily to the earth. Not a few long breaths were drawn by those around methe majority of whom were as much terrified as astonished at this extraordinary dénouement of a most remarkable scene. All had observed the mastery Bill's eyes had exhibited over this, to them, mysterious distemper, and some regarded it as a supernatural display; particularly Castro and his Indians who looked upon the Trapper with expressions, ludicrously mingled, of awe, humility, and affright. Bill had ordered water to be brought from the river, of which Black, who had fallen from excessive weakness-the collapse of his long excitement-drank with inconceivable eagerness. He seemed so subdued, I hoped for a moment that the spell had passed from off his soul; but there was the same incoherence and wandering evident as soon as he was able to speak; and when any of us came very near him, the same disposition to injure us. Bill alone could control him-at a single glance from whose eye he became humble again. I should not have been particularly astonished at the simple fact that Bill's eyes, or the eyes of any other man of great firmness, should have exerted this absolute power over a madman-for that such a power had long been known to exist and been used by occasional individuals in the treatment and management of lunatics, I was perfectly aware-but what did surprise me was, that this uncultivated Trapper, who had probably never seen or heard of a medical book in his life, and as probably never saw a madman before, should have seemed so securely conscious of possessing this unusual power as to have trusted to it calmly through a scene of so much peril. How, and where could he have picked up this knowledge, was a question I determined in my own mind to have settled on the first opportunity. In the mean time arrangements were made to return to the Colonel's Rancho. body of Davis was thrown into the river; Black was mounted upon the horse of a Lipan, the lariat of which Bill held as he led off the party on the return. Hays, Fitz, and several others of the Rangers who had joined us, were discussing and accounting for the late scene with great earnestness, in their own way, as we walked on, some vowing it was one thing, others another; but most inclined to regard it with superstition. Finding that no light was to be gained from them,

The

I determined to join Bill, who was moodily striding on alone, and try whether I could draw him into a communicative humor. It had occurred to me that the effect had been purely accidental. But this view I was almost disposed to discard on remembering Bill's steady and methodical management from the time he caught the madman's eye. 1 had observed a trait of superstition in his own character, and was not surprised when I found him very mysterious and difficult of approach on the subject. 1 soon perceived that he himself did not understand the origin of the power, and it was only after a great deal of cross-questioning and urging, that I could get a hint of the source from which he had originally received the suggestion. It appeared from what he let fall, that years ago in one of his trapping expeditions towards the head waters of the Platte, he had met with three men-two Americans and a halfbreed Indian-whose sole occupation seemed to be that of catching mustangs. These, after being captured, the Halfbreed would render perfectly tame in a few hours so much so that they would follow him about the Prairie, and come to him at his call. A wolf was captured and tamed in as short a time, and as effectually. The Half-breed had been very mysterious as to his mode of proceeding, and announced that he bewitched them but added, also, that he could, for a "compensation" commensurate with the value of the important secret, impart it to others. Bill had collected a very valuable pack of beaver pelts, and so deeply had he been interested and impressed, that without any hesitation he had offered them in exchange for the secret. This, after some demur, the cunning Half-breed had agreed to-first binding Bill over to secresy by the most fantastic rites and solemn oaths. Under these injunctions the secret had been communicated, and of course was beyond my reach. Bill said he had often tried the "spell," as he called it, upon the wildest and most ferocious animals with perfect success when he could get them "cornered" long enough for it to work. That he had been equally successful with men who had the "tremblers" (delirium tremens) upon them after a spree. I had often heard of these "wild horse tamers," as they are called, and felt great curiosity with regard to them. It added not a little to the interest I already felt in the character of my long-sided friend, the Trapper, to find that he be

longed to this mysterious fraternity. Without having witnessed, as yet, any of their feats, I had, under a theory of my own, been disposed to classify them among the unexplained phenomena of Mesmerism; which last designation would, indeed, include all the apparent facts of the embryo science. Bill had never heard of mesmerism, though, and the suspicion that he had stumbled unawares upon the existence of a physical law, of the nature of which, he, in common with its more learned advocates, was profoundly ignorant, had crossed my mind more than once. It was interesting to have thus traced it back to a seeming connection, heretofore unsuspected, with influences producing inexplicable effects in two classes of well-known facts the taming of madmen and wild beasts. I had afterwards the opportunity of examining this curious subject with greater minuteness, and satisfying myself more definitely as to the plausibility of my new theory.

We met the Colonel with the Bravo and his party near the Rancho, returning bootless from their search pushed in another direction.

The Colonel's sagacity had also discovered the trail of the strange horseman which had so much puzzled us, though the recollection of it had been for the time overcome by the late incidents. Without waiting to hear more of the details we had to give than the simple intelligence that Davis had been hung by Black-which he seemed to consider a matter-of-course incident-he insisted upon Bill's report about Agatone, and explanation, if he had any to give, of the tracks. Bill proceeded in his quaint vernacular to inform us that he had proceeded with Castro and the Indians to the place in Big Bend Bottom, where he had first seen the three men, of whom, the person supposed to be Agatone was riding behind one of the others--the Lieutenant, probably-whom he shot. That here he and Castro had taken their trail again and followed it with the most minute care, examining every tree near the trunk of which it passed, to see whether he had been pushed up into it to hide among the long moss. The Indians were spread out on every side to look for the traces of his footsteps, so that every square yard of the ground for some distance on both sides of the trai! had been carefully examined up to the point where he, by cutting across, had intercepted the horsemen, and seen, to

PHID. Because it is not an object of

sense.

Soc. Yes; but if we could, by any sense, perceive, touch, or smell it, then it would no longer be necessary to speak poetically, in symbols. But now, echoing the poets, we say of the spirit, that it is great and fair, or little and black-using such words as are applied to things visible. It is easy to represent the incomprehensible by symbols; but to know the significance of these symbols is not easy. Do you think otherwise?

PHID. No, Socrates; I have always believed that it was easier to put a mark upon a thing, or to speak of it by a similitude, than to comprehend it.

Soc. It appears that every man is, himself, a symbol, or mark of ignorance, to another; seeing that his life and actions discover the existence of an intangible principle or energy. But the aim of wisdom is to gain a true knowledge of this energy, and to substitute that knowledge for what is merely symbolic and superficial. If any person is able to substitute a true for a symbolical knowledge, I think them the wiser. To recur now to the model. Of the kinds of energy, whether material, animal, or spiritual, which of all should be seen in a Hercules?

PHID. Because he is a God, the spiritual should predominate.

Soc. But, of the spiritual energies, should this deity be endowed with the regal, heroical, or devotional kind?

PHID. With the heroical, as I think. Soc. If there is such a being, O Phidias, as the God Hercules, it would be impious to deny that he is endowed with an energy superior to that of animals; for the energy of an animal is in passion, or in prudence and intelligence. But of the regal energy, we ascribe it to kings and legislators, and to Zeus, the king of Gods; and the heroical energy is attributed to such mortals as have acted of their own will for the sake of glory. But this hero, or deity, did nothing of his own will, and was obedient to a pusillanimous master, because Zeus had so commanded. Does it seem, then, to you, that he should rather be endowed with the devotional energy, as one who accomplished miracles through obedience? PHID. It seems fit that he should be so endowed.

Soc. If he is truly represented, it will then be as one who has no other but this kind of power; and to carve his statue

with the body and countenance of a king, or of a conqueror, would be inju-* dicious.

PHID. By what marks shall an energy be made to appear?

Soc. Are they not already apparent in the model?

PHID. It may be so; for the head was taken from that of a captive who is singularly amiable and obedient. His master maintains him as a wrestler, and he executes promptly whatever is enjoined; though, at first sight, you would pronounce him to be a hero full of dangerous energy; for he surpasses all others in strength and beauty of person.

Soc. But was the head of this wrestler disproportionately small?

PHID. It was; but not as much so as in the model.

Soc. My opinion is, therefore, accordant with nature. If you are willing, I will relate the words of Anaxagoras in regard to this, and other particulars proper to be known by statuaries.

PHID. I shall have a perfect satisfaction in hearing the opinions of a sage who could be the instructor of Pericles.

Soc. When I was a mere youth, my father taught me to assist him in modeling statues, for that was his occupation. We lived then in Alopere, not far from Athens, in a garden-house by the roadside. It happened that I had placed a block of Egyptian marble in the shade of a sycamore which overhung the road, and was then hewing it to the figure of Hercules. Having gone into the house a moment, on returning, I found Anaxagoras seated in the shade as if to rest. It was usual with him to walk alone in the villages and open fields, for the sake of meditation; and I had often met him in by-roads and remote places. Being in doubt, as you are, regarding the model, I inquired of Anaxagoras regarding it. He asked me whether I would represent the God of strength? I assented, and he then inquired whether this strength or energy, as he chose to name it, should be of the mortal, or of the immortal, kind; and, when I was perplexed for an answer, he taught me these differences, to which you have but now assented.

PHID. It is usual with you to disavow your opinions, and repeat them as if gathered from a good genius, or from a sage.

Soc. I do this, believing that wisdom is the property of all the wise. Each

like a sacred patrimony.

PHID. Let me be a sharer; and if Anaxagoras committed anything to you, intrust it also to me.

Soc. He reasoned thus. If energy of body, or of passion, or of intelligence, is common to man and animals, it were impious to ascribe it to a God. A God cannot be imagined as in a fit of rage, or as burdened with desires, or as thinking, or composing poems; for these imply a kind of imperfection, and a narrowness of faculty proper to the mortal nature. But if there is an energy in man, which is unlimited and perfect in its nature, ruling over all his acts, and harmonizing his affections; in one word, if there is anything divine in man, it will be no impiety to ascribe the same to a God.

PHID. It seems to me, O Socrates, an attempt full of danger and impiety, if a mortal reasons on the nature of deity.

Soc. To those, O son of a just father, who see in man, as in the Gods, an image of the Supreme, it is permitted to reason from the divinity within man to the divinity above man.

PHID. Do you imagine, or believe, that the ancients took this way of inquiry? By Hercules, there is none so bold!

Soc. But there are many bold enough to think, that they have a perfect idea of divinity, and wish to seem not ignorant even of Him whose name, if he could be named, it were unlawful to utter.

PHID. We received this knowledge from our ancestors; and they, in remote ages, from the Gods.

Soc. This, then, is a part also of the patrimony of wisdom, to receive and possess within ourselves ideas of the divine natures.

PHID. But is it not surprising, that any man should dare represent a deity: as though divine natures could appear in marble or stone?

Soc. Can they appear in flesh? PHID. None will dare deny it. Soc. But if they appeared in human form, would it not have been lawful to make a statue or image of them?

PHID. Not only lawful, but meritorious, and an act of piety.

Soc. But would it be lawful to worship the visible form of a deity, if he should see fit to make himself visible?

PHID. It would be both lawful and necessary.

Soc. But if a God, even the greatest,

PHID. They could not fail.

Soc. If we, then, should worship that visible appearance, it would not be unlawful. But if I am able to discern the deity in a man, it must be by a visible sign or mark, such as must signify the presence of a divine influence. (I now repeat the words of Anaxagoras): If any man is so fortunate as to know such marks, and is able to shape them out of marble or ivory, can he be justly declared impious?

PHID. No, truly. But how shall these marks be known?

Soc. When we think of the Gods, we think of them as devoid of all weakness and vice, but full of infinite energy; and we know that this energy is the ruling principle, and is of an eternal nature, without form or name. By some it is called reason, by others vous or intellect; but by most, the spirit of man. Anaxagoras, therefore, reasoned in this manner that, if the image of a God is but the exalted image (or idea) of this principle; to represent men with the marks of it in their gestures and countenances would be to represent them as Gods. Does it seem so to you, or does it not?

PHID. I am not able to deny it.

Soc. Is it lawful, then, to worship the statues of the Gods, since they cannot be distinguished from those of inspired men ? PHID. A question hard to be answered. But proceed.

Soc. First answer my question. Is it lawful to worship the image of a God, seeing that it is equally the image of a

man?

PHID. It is first necessary to know what we mean by worship.

Soc. Is not all worship an acknowledgment of superiority?

PHID. Yes; and it is also an acknowledgment of goodness in the being who is superior.

Soc. It appears impossible, therefore, to worship a statue, since it is neither superior, nor capable of good. If any person, seeing the marks of divinity in a statue, is thereby reminded of a God, he may offer worship to the God; but if the Gods are exalted images of men, they are not in kind superior to men-and to worship them because of their superiority in degree only, would be no more lawful than to worship a hero or a king.