It is a great revolution in social and domestic life—andno less so in the life of the secluded student—this almostuniversal exchange of the open fire-place for the cheerlessand ungenial stove. On such a morning as now lowersaround our old grey parsonage， I miss the bright faceof my ancient friend， who was wont to dance upon thehearth， and play the part of a more familiar sunshine. It issad to turn from the clouded sky and sombre landscape—from yonder hill， with its crown of rusty， black pines， thefoliage of which is so dismal in the absence of the sun； thatbleak pasture-land， and the broken surface of the potatofield， with the brown clods partly concealed by the snowfallof last night； the swollen and sluggish river， with iceencrustedborders， dragging its blueish grey stream alongthe verge of our orchard， like a snake half torpid with thecold—it is sad to turn from an outward scene of so littlecomfort， and find the same sullen influences broodingwithin the precincts of my study. Where is that brilliantguest—that quick and subtle spirit whom Prometheuslured from Heaven to civilize mankind， and cheer them intheir wintry desolation—that comfortable inmate， whosesmile， during eight months of the year， was our sufficientconsolation for summer’s lingering advance and earlyflight； Alas！ blindly inhospitable， grudging the food thatkept him cheery and mercurial， we have thrust him into aniron prison， and compel him to smoulder away his life on adaily pittance which once would have been too scanty forhis breakfast！ Without a metaphor， we now make our firein an air-tight stove， and supply it with some half-a-dozensticks of wood between dawn and nightfall.
I never shall be reconciled to this enormity. Truly may itbe said， that the world looks darker for it. In one way oranother， here and there， and all around us， the inventionsof mankind are fast blotting the picturesque， the poetic，and the beautiful out of human life. The domestic fire wasa type of all these attributes， and seemed to bring mightand majesty， and wild Nature， and a spiritual essence，into our inmost home， and yet to dwell with us in suchfriendliness， that its mysteries and marvels excited nodismay. The same mild companion， that smiled so placidlyin our faces， was he that comes roaring out of Aetna，and rushes madly up the sky， like a fiend breaking loosefrom torment， and fighting for a place among the upperangels. He it is， too， that leaps from cloud to cloud amidthe crashing thunder-storm. It was he whom the Gheberworshipped， with no unnatural idolatry； and it was he whodevoured London and Moscow， and many another famouscity， and who loves to riot through our own dark forests，and sweep across our prairies， and to whose ravenousmaw， it is said， the universe shall one day be given as afinal feast. Meanwhile he is the great artizan and laborerby whose aid men are enabled to build a world within aworld， or， at least， to smoothe down the rough creationwhich Nature flung to us. He forges the mighty anchor，and every lesser instrument. He drives the steamboat anddrags the rail-car. And it was he—this creature of terriblemight， and so many-sided utility， and all-comprehensivedestructiveness—that used to be the cheerful， homelyfriend of our wintry days， and whom we have made theprisoner of this iron cage！
How kindly he was， and， though the tremendous agentof change， yet bearing himself with such gentleness， sorendering himself a part of all life-long and age-coevalassociations， that it seemed as if he were the greatconservative of Nature！ While a man was true to thefireside， so long would he be true to country and law—tothe God whom his fathers worshipped—to the wife of hisyouth—and to all things else which instinct or religionhave taught us to consider sacred. With how sweethumility did this elemental spirit perform all needfuloffices for the household in which he was domesticated！
He was equal to the concoction of a grand dinner， yetscorned not to roast a potato， or toast a bit of cheese.
How humanely did he cherish the schoolboy’s icy fingers，and thaw the old man’s joints with a genial warmth， whichalmost equalled the glow of youth！ And how carefullydid he dry the cow-hide boots that had trudged throughmud and snow， and the shaggy outside garment， stiff withfrozen sleet； taking heed， likewise， to the comfort of thefaithful dog who had followed his master through thestorm！ When did he refuse a coal to light a pipe， or even apart of his own substance to kindle a neighbor’s fire？ Andthen， at twilight， when laborer or scholar， or mortal ofwhatever age， sex， or degree， drew a chair beside him， andlooked into his glowing face， how acute， how profound，how comprehensive was his sympathy with the mood ofeach and all！ He pictured forth their very thoughts. Tothe youthful， he showed the scenes of the adventurous lifebefore them； to the aged， the shadows of departed loveand hope； and， if all earthly things had grown distasteful，he could gladden the fireside muser with golden glimpsesof a better world. And， amid this varied communion withthe human soul， how busily would the sympathizer， thedeep moralist， the painter of magic pictures， be causingthe tea-kettle to boil！
