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THE FESTIVAL OF DIS-REASON;
OR, THE DEBATE.
They came in sleighs and cutters down the snow-paved country road—
No farm-house in the district but sent something of “a load,”
No home so high or humble, but threw in its mental mite
Toward an equitable judgment on the issue of the night;
For the question to be settled was an elemental one:
Namely, whether fire or water had the greater damage done.
No farm-house in the district but sent something of “a load,”
No home so high or humble, but threw in its mental mite
Toward an equitable judgment on the issue of the night;
For the question to be settled was an elemental one:
Namely, whether fire or water had the greater damage done.
O Peace! thy famous mantle is a lovely thing to view,
But what unimportant matters can suffice to tear it through!
Now a three-month had this “district” been by thee as much inspired,
As a first-class summer evening, when the sun has just retired;
Till some indiscreet debater fired the battle's signal gun,
Asking whether fire or water had the greater damage done.
But what unimportant matters can suffice to tear it through!
Now a three-month had this “district” been by thee as much inspired,
As a first-class summer evening, when the sun has just retired;
Till some indiscreet debater fired the battle's signal gun,
Asking whether fire or water had the greater damage done.
As when the housewife, whisking through her culinary toil,
Bathes the inside of a kettle, it will foam and seethe and boil,
As when a brawny blacksmith, his hot iron all agleam,
Stabs the unsuspecting water, it will hiss and yell and scream,
So the most pronounced convulsions it had ever known as yet,
Made life lively in this neighborhood when fire and water met.
Bathes the inside of a kettle, it will foam and seethe and boil,
As when a brawny blacksmith, his hot iron all agleam,
Stabs the unsuspecting water, it will hiss and yell and scream,
So the most pronounced convulsions it had ever known as yet,
Made life lively in this neighborhood when fire and water met.
Not when the choir, one Sunday, chirped a secular-sounding song;
Not when the pastor married diametrically wrong;
Not when the new school-master, with a sweet and cheerful smile,
Flogged three champion school-house bullies in improved athletic style;
Had there been so fierce excitement.—Naught more bitter words can make,
Than discussion where the parties haven't any thing at stake.
Not when the pastor married diametrically wrong;
Not when the new school-master, with a sweet and cheerful smile,
Flogged three champion school-house bullies in improved athletic style;
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Than discussion where the parties haven't any thing at stake.
O War! thy grim material pauses not at guns and swords:
There are campaigns of opinion—there are carnages of words!
Now that neighborhood, so peaceful till this unexpected day,
Formed itself, as if by magic, in belligerent array,
Full of empty emulation, and disinterested ire;
About half denouncing water—the remainder fighting fire.
There are campaigns of opinion—there are carnages of words!
Now that neighborhood, so peaceful till this unexpected day,
Formed itself, as if by magic, in belligerent array,
Full of empty emulation, and disinterested ire;
About half denouncing water—the remainder fighting fire.
There were deadly feuds engendered, in that clash of word and will,
That have crept through generations, and are living even still;
There were families imbittered—sacred friendships rent in twain—
In that well-nigh useless contest of the heart and of the brain.
For the fight on this occasion had grown bitter and intense,
In proportion as the issue was of little consequence.
That have crept through generations, and are living even still;
There were families imbittered—sacred friendships rent in twain—
In that well-nigh useless contest of the heart and of the brain.
For the fight on this occasion had grown bitter and intense,
In proportion as the issue was of little consequence.
Old Squire Taylor took his children out of school, without delay,
When the teacher taught Volcanoes in an underhanded way;
Deacon Stebbins, it was whispered, gave his son a whipping rare,
Just for drawing on the Deluge in his verse at morning prayer;
And the good but shrewd old preacher—half in love and half in fear—
Scarcely mentioned fire or water in his sermons for a year.
When the teacher taught Volcanoes in an underhanded way;
Deacon Stebbins, it was whispered, gave his son a whipping rare,
Just for drawing on the Deluge in his verse at morning prayer;
And the good but shrewd old preacher—half in love and half in fear—
Scarcely mentioned fire or water in his sermons for a year.
There were fisticuffs and lawsuits bred among the brawny men—
Women who ne'er borrowed sugar at each other's house again;
And the children called their playmates, when they fell out, in their games,
“Water-fowl,” and “Papa's fire-bug,” and such-like endearing names;
While a keen demand existed 'mongst the people, great and small,
For the evening when this question should be settled once for all.
Women who ne'er borrowed sugar at each other's house again;
And the children called their playmates, when they fell out, in their games,
“Water-fowl,” and “Papa's fire-bug,” and such-like endearing names;
While a keen demand existed 'mongst the people, great and small,
For the evening when this question should be settled once for all.
They came in sleds and cutters down the snow-paved country roads;
They swarmed like bees in anger, from the depths of their abodes;
They urged their bell-fringed coursers; they hurried, with one will,
To the little old red school-house at the summit of the hill.
For 'twas there that the discussion was appointed to take place,
And the fiercest of debaters meet each other face to face.
They swarmed like bees in anger, from the depths of their abodes;
They urged their bell-fringed coursers; they hurried, with one will,
To the little old red school-house at the summit of the hill.
For 'twas there that the discussion was appointed to take place,
And the fiercest of debaters meet each other face to face.
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O little old red school-house! your prosperous days are flown!
You are a sad old school-house, decrepit and alone.
Within your grimly ruins, now half crumbled to the ground,
The wind repeats its lessons, in a listless, droning sound;
The snow-flakes leap your windows, and cluster on your floor,
Or, like belated youngsters, creep slyly through the door;
You are a sad old school-house, decrepit and alone.
Within your grimly ruins, now half crumbled to the ground,
The wind repeats its lessons, in a listless, droning sound;
The snow-flakes leap your windows, and cluster on your floor,
Or, like belated youngsters, creep slyly through the door;
No more incipient maidens softly to your portals come,
With pantalettes of nankeen, and surreptitious gum;
No more the idle urchin, wrapped in secret hardihood,
Daily strives to make you useful in the line of kindling-wood;
No more the youthful chalk-fiend traces incoherent scrawls,
And startling hieroglyphics, on your dim and dingy walls;
With pantalettes of nankeen, and surreptitious gum;
No more the idle urchin, wrapped in secret hardihood,
Daily strives to make you useful in the line of kindling-wood;
No more the youthful chalk-fiend traces incoherent scrawls,
And startling hieroglyphics, on your dim and dingy walls;
Your painted rival perches on the yonder neighboring hill;
The restless feet that sought you are lying very still.
The flowers of many summers upon their graves have grown;
You are a sad old school-house, decrepit and alone.
But you have had your triumphs; and, if accounts be right,
You were not over-lonely on that famous winter night!
The restless feet that sought you are lying very still.
The flowers of many summers upon their graves have grown;
You are a sad old school-house, decrepit and alone.
But you have had your triumphs; and, if accounts be right,
You were not over-lonely on that famous winter night!
Oh, what a crowd had gathered, and how wide awake they were,
To see this mighty struggle of the elements occur!
The buds and blooms of beauty of that region had turned out,
Also all the brain and muscle of the country round about;
For, as some one gravely mentioned—'twas an interesting time—
A trial whose attorneys gloried in their clients' crime.
To see this mighty struggle of the elements occur!
The buds and blooms of beauty of that region had turned out,
Also all the brain and muscle of the country round about;
For, as some one gravely mentioned—'twas an interesting time—
A trial whose attorneys gloried in their clients' crime.
There was Corporal Joseph Bellamy, a veteran fierce and gray,
Whose left leg took a furlough on the field of Monterey,
And who whispered, “How'd the Waterites get away, he'd like to know,
With the fire that burned the powder in our war with Mexico?”
There was Captain Abel Stockwell, who the raging main had ploughed,
And had some old claim of wreckage which he wished to get allowed;
Whose left leg took a furlough on the field of Monterey,
And who whispered, “How'd the Waterites get away, he'd like to know,
With the fire that burned the powder in our war with Mexico?”
There was Captain Abel Stockwell, who the raging main had ploughed,
And had some old claim of wreckage which he wished to get allowed;
There was Andrew Clark, a bully, who remarked, he couldn't debate,
But could lick the biggest waterin'-trough that spouted in the State;
There was pretty Jessie Miller, with her blushing face half hid,
Who didn't say much on the question—just because her lover did;
There was “Uncle Sammy,” smiling gay and happy—nothing loth
To dispute with either faction, or, if necessary, both;
But could lick the biggest waterin'-trough that spouted in the State;
There was pretty Jessie Miller, with her blushing face half hid,
Who didn't say much on the question—just because her lover did;
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To dispute with either faction, or, if necessary, both;
There was dear old Sister Dibble, amiable and pleasant-eyed,
Who agreed with all she talked to, and no matter on which side;
There was Uncle James K. Hopkins, who espoused one cause to-day,
And to-morrow morning early, always thought the other way;
There was Township Treasurer Hawley, who a theory could frame,
That The Law of Compensation made them both destroy the same;
Who agreed with all she talked to, and no matter on which side;
There was Uncle James K. Hopkins, who espoused one cause to-day,
And to-morrow morning early, always thought the other way;
There was Township Treasurer Hawley, who a theory could frame,
That The Law of Compensation made them both destroy the same;
There was Road Commissioner Reynolds, who, as president, would state
The true meaning of the question they had come there to debate;
But was checked by Uncle Sammy, with his back firm 'gainst the wall,
Who declared, as if astonished, that that wasn't it at all!
So an hour they wrangled, trying to discover, beyond doubt,
What it was that all the people had been quarreling about.
The true meaning of the question they had come there to debate;
But was checked by Uncle Sammy, with his back firm 'gainst the wall,
Who declared, as if astonished, that that wasn't it at all!
So an hour they wrangled, trying to discover, beyond doubt,
What it was that all the people had been quarreling about.
As well might be imagined, 'twas a trifle ludicrous
To hear this crowd discussing as to what they should discuss;
Until the conversation reached the pure assertive stage,
The pattering of word-drops turned to thunder-peals of rage,
And young Napoleon Peaslee, with his black eyes opened wide,
Shook his fist at several others, and informed them that they lied.
To hear this crowd discussing as to what they should discuss;
Until the conversation reached the pure assertive stage,
The pattering of word-drops turned to thunder-peals of rage,
And young Napoleon Peaslee, with his black eyes opened wide,
Shook his fist at several others, and informed them that they lied.
When this argument was stated ('tis a not uncommon one),
Andrew Clark bobbed up his body, like the rammer of a gun
When the load at last is driven, and remarked, with aspect hot,
That into his department the discussion now had got;
Then, striding o'er three benches, to the speaker he drew nigh,
And advanced a heavy argument at Napoleon's nearest eye.
Andrew Clark bobbed up his body, like the rammer of a gun
When the load at last is driven, and remarked, with aspect hot,
That into his department the discussion now had got;
Then, striding o'er three benches, to the speaker he drew nigh,
And advanced a heavy argument at Napoleon's nearest eye.
As when the thrifty farmer his cold yard with fodder strews,
Two sturdy youthful bullocks will develop different views,
And join belligerent issue—then their rage infects the herd,
Till the peacefulest old mulley feels her blood with battle stirred,
So this meeting joined in conflict; and affairs assumed a shape
As if sin's unpleasant future had effected an escape.
Two sturdy youthful bullocks will develop different views,
And join belligerent issue—then their rage infects the herd,
Till the peacefulest old mulley feels her blood with battle stirred,
So this meeting joined in conflict; and affairs assumed a shape
As if sin's unpleasant future had effected an escape.
No prestige was respected, in the storm of rage that rose;
The deacon shook ten knuckles underneath the elder's nose;
The squire upset the sheriff, with undignified display,
When the latter “Peace” demanded, in a very warlike way;
And even Sister Dibble her fat fist to shake began,
And vowed to goodness gracious that she wished she was a man!
The deacon shook ten knuckles underneath the elder's nose;
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When the latter “Peace” demanded, in a very warlike way;
And even Sister Dibble her fat fist to shake began,
And vowed to goodness gracious that she wished she was a man!
E'en the stove—a shattered veteran, which for many years had stood
On two legs, and two frail crutches made of bricks and blocks of wood,
And, like some worthy people who are nothing if not plumb,
Had no single earthly merit save its equilibrium,
Lost even that; and, falling 'mid this clash of frantic souls,
Smashed, and emptied out a bushel of the liveliest kind of coals.
On two legs, and two frail crutches made of bricks and blocks of wood,
And, like some worthy people who are nothing if not plumb,
Had no single earthly merit save its equilibrium,
Lost even that; and, falling 'mid this clash of frantic souls,
Smashed, and emptied out a bushel of the liveliest kind of coals.
As when the juvenile shepherd scares his flock of timid sheep
Through the narrows of a fence-gap, they will rush and plunge and leap,
So the bravest, and the strongest, and the fiercest that were there,
Loitered not upon their journey to the free and open air;
Which, flying from their presence, rushed into the open door,
And scattered coals and fire-brands all about the school-house floor.
Through the narrows of a fence-gap, they will rush and plunge and leap,
So the bravest, and the strongest, and the fiercest that were there,
Loitered not upon their journey to the free and open air;
Which, flying from their presence, rushed into the open door,
And scattered coals and fire-brands all about the school-house floor.
“It's a-burnin' up the buildin'!” was the universal shout:
“We'll be taxed to build another, if we do not put it out!”
The debaters, each forgetting his rhetoric ends and aims,
Rushed in with snow and water, to subdue the rising flames;
And 'twas even hard to tell there, when the victory was won,
Whether fire or whether water had the greater damage done.
“We'll be taxed to build another, if we do not put it out!”
The debaters, each forgetting his rhetoric ends and aims,
Rushed in with snow and water, to subdue the rising flames;
And 'twas even hard to tell there, when the victory was won,
Whether fire or whether water had the greater damage done.
They drove their sleighs and cutters homeward o'er the snowy road;
Their clothes were wet and freezing—their hearts with anger glowed;
E'en those agreeing differed; cutting up the question, they
Disagreed on its divisions, and disputed by the way.
And only one was happy who to this affair had come;
And he was under-witted, and was also deaf and dumb.
Their clothes were wet and freezing—their hearts with anger glowed;
E'en those agreeing differed; cutting up the question, they
Disagreed on its divisions, and disputed by the way.
And only one was happy who to this affair had come;
And he was under-witted, and was also deaf and dumb.
O thinkers and debaters! be moderate and more slow;
You can't make true opinions—they have to seed and grow.
Be generous in your conflicts; look very sharp to see
What points you can discover whereon you may agree;
Remember, mere assertion to mere brutishness comes nigh,
And the shallowest of arguments is the poisoned words, “You lie!”
You can't make true opinions—they have to seed and grow.
Be generous in your conflicts; look very sharp to see
What points you can discover whereon you may agree;
Remember, mere assertion to mere brutishness comes nigh,
And the shallowest of arguments is the poisoned words, “You lie!”
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