{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_9256/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_9256","id":"gutenberg_9256","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/9256","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's Literature","Mythology, Greek","Mythology, Greek -- Juvenile literature"],"text":"Produced by David Widger.  HTML version by Al Haines\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                 A WONDER-BOOK FOR GIRLS AND BOYS\n\n                     By Nathaniel Hawthorne\n\n\n                    THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN\n\n\n\nCONTENTS:\n\n  TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM--Introductory to \"The Paradise of Children\"\n  THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN\n  TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM--After the Story\n\n\n\n\nTANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM.\n\nThe golden days of October passed away, as so many other Octobers have,\nand brown November likewise, and the greater part of chill December,\ntoo.  At last came merry Christmas, and Eustace Bright along with it,\nmaking it all the merrier by his presence.  And, the day after his\narrival from college, there came a mighty snow-storm.  Up to this time,\nthe winter had held back, and had given us a good many mild days, which\nwere like smiles upon its wrinkled visage.  The grass had kept itself\ngreen, in sheltered places, such as the nooks of southern hill-slopes,\nand along the lee of the stone fences.  It was but a week or two ago,\nand since the beginning of the month, that the children had found a\ndandelion in bloom, on the margin of Shadow Brook, where it glides out\nof the dell.\n\nBut no more green grass and dandelions now.  This was such a snow-storm!\nTwenty miles of it might have been visible at once, between the windows\nof Tanglewood and the dome of Taconic, had it been possible to see so\nfar, among the eddying drifts that whitened all the atmosphere.  It\nseemed as if the hills were giants, and were flinging monstrous handfuls\nof snow at one another, in their enormous sport.  So thick were the\nfluttering snow-flakes, that even the trees, midway down the valley,\nwere hidden by them the greater part of the time.  Sometimes, it is\ntrue, the little prisoners of Tanglewood could discern a dim outline of\nMonument Mountain, and the smooth whiteness of the frozen lake at its\nbase, and the black or gray tracts of woodland in the nearer landscape.\nBut these were merely peeps through the tempest.\n\nNevertheless, the children rejoiced greatly in the snowstorm.  They had\nalready made acquaintance with it, by tumbling heels over head into its\nhighest drifts, and flinging snow at one another, as we have just\nfancied the Berkshire mountains to be doing.  And now they had come back\nto their spacious play-room, which was as big as the great drawing-room,\nand was lumbered with all sorts of playthings, large and small.  The\nbiggest was a rocking-horse, that looked like a real pony; and there was\na whole family of wooden, waxen, plaster, and china dolls, besides\nrag-babies; and blocks enough to build Bunker Hill Monument, and nine-pins,\nand balls, and humming-tops, and battledores, and grace-sticks, and\nskipping-ropes, and more of such valuable property than I could tell of\nin a printed page.  But the children liked the snow-storm better than\nthem all.  It suggested so many brisk enjoyments for to-morrow, and all\nthe remainder of the winter.  The sleigh-ride; the slides down hill into\nthe valley; the snow-images that were to be shaped out; the snow-fortresses\nthat were to be built; and the snow-balling to be carried on!\n\nSo the little folks blessed the snow-storm, and were glad to see it come\nthicker and thicker, and watched hopefully the long drift that was\npiling itself up in the avenue, and was already higher than any of their\nheads.\n\n\"Why, we shall be blocked up till spring!\" cried they, with the hugest\ndelight.  \"What a pity that the house is too high to be quite covered\nup!  The little red house, down yonder, will be buried up to its eaves.\"\n\n\"You silly children, what do you want of more snow?\" asked Eustace, who,\ntired of some novel that he was skimming through, had strolled into the\nplay-room.  \"It has done mischief enough already, by spoiling the only\nskating that I could hope for through the winter.  We shall see nothing\nmore of the lake till April; and this was to have been my first day upon\nit!  Don't you pity me, Primrose?\"\n\n\"O, to be sure!\" answered Primrose, laughing.  \"But, for your comfort,\nwe will listen to another of your old stories, such as you told us\nunder the porch, and down in the hollow, by Shadow Brook.  Perhaps I\nshall like them better now, when there is nothing to do, than while\nthere were nuts to be gathered, and beautiful weather to enjoy.\"\n\nHereupon, Periwinkle, Clover, Sweet Fern, and as many others of the\nlittle fraternity and cousinhood as were still at Tanglewood, gathered\nabout Eustace, and earnestly besought him for a story.  The student\nyawned, stretched himself, and then, to the vast admiration of the\nsmall people, skipped three times hack and forth over the top of a\nchair, in order, as he explained to them, to set his wits in motion.\n\n\"Well, well, children,\" said he, after these preliminaries, \"since you\ninsist, and Primrose has set her heart upon it, I will see what can be\ndone for you.  And, that you may know what happy days there were before\nsnowstorms came into fashion, I will tell you a story of the oldest of\nall old times, when the world was as new as Sweet Fern's bran-new\nhumming-top.  There was then but one season in the year, and that was\nthe delightful summer; and but one age for mortals, and that was\nchildhood.\"\n\n\"I never heard of that before,\" said Primrose.\n\n\"Of course, you never did,\" answered Eustace.  \"It shall be a story of\nwhat nobody but myself ever dreamed of,--a Paradise of children,--and\nhow, by the naughtiness of just such a little imp as Primrose here, it\nall came to nothing.\"\n\nSo Eustace Bright sat down in the chair which he had just been skipping\nover, took Cowslip upon his knee, ordered silence throughout the\nauditory, and began a story about a sad naughty child, whose name was\nPandora, and about her playfellow Epimetheus.  You may read it, word for\nword, in the pages that come next.\n\n\n\nTHE PARADISE OF CHILDREN.\n\nLong, long ago, when this old world was in its tender infancy, there was\na child, named Epimetheus, who never had either father or mother; and,\nthat he might not be lonely, another child, fatherless and motherless\nlike himself, was sent from a far country, to live with him, and be his\nplayfellow and helpmate.  Her name was Pandora.\n\nThe first thing that Pandora saw, when she entered the cottage where\nEpimetheus dwelt, was a great box.  And almost the first question which\nshe put to him, after crossing the threshold, was this,--\n\n\"Epimetheus, what have you in that box?\"\n\n\"My dear little Pandora,\" answered Epimetheus, \"that is a secret, and\nyou must be kind enough not to ask any questions about it.  The box was\nleft here to be kept safely, and I do not myself know what it contains.\"\n\n\"But, who gave it to you?\"  asked Pandora.  \"And where did it come\nfrom?\"\n\n\"That is a secret, too,\" replied Epimetheus.\n\n\"How provoking!\" exclaimed Pandora, pouting her lip.  \"I wish the great\nugly box were out of the way!\"\n\n\"O come, don't think of it, any more,\" cried Epimetheus.  \"Let us run\nout of doors, and have some nice play with the other children.\"\n\nIt is thousands of years since Epimetheus and Pandora were alive; and\nthe world, nowadays, is a very different sort of thing from what it was\nin their time.  Then, everybody was a child.  There needed no fathers\nand mothers to take care of the children; because there was no danger,\nnor trouble of any kind, and no clothes to be mended, and there was\nalways plenty to eat and drink.  Whenever a child wanted his dinner, he\nfound it growing on a tree; and, if he looked at the tree in the\nmorning, he could see the expanding blossom of that night's supper; or,\nat eventide, he saw the tender bud of to-morrow's breakfast.  It was a\nvery pleasant life indeed.  No labor to be done, no tasks to be studied;\nnothing but sports and dances, and sweet voices of children talking, or\ncarolling like birds, or gushing out in merry laughter, throughout the\nlivelong day.\n\nWhat was most wonderful of all, the children never quarrelled among\nthemselves; neither had they any crying fits; nor, since time first\nbegan, had a single one of these little mortals ever gone apart into a\ncorner, and sulked.  O, what a good time was that to be alive in!  The\ntruth is, those ugly little winged monsters, called Troubles, which are\nnow almost as numerous as mosquitoes, had never yet been seen on the\nearth.  It is probable that the very greatest disquietude which a child\nhad ever experienced was Pandora's vexation at not being able to\ndiscover the secret of the mysterious box.\n\nThis was at first only the faint shadow of a Trouble; but, every day, it\ngrew more and more substantial, until, before a great while, the cottage\nof Epimetheus and Pandora was less sunshiny than those of the other\nchildren.\n\n\"Whence can the box have come?\" Pandora continually kept saying to\nherself and to Epimetheus.  \"And what in the world can be inside of it?\"\n\n\"Always talking about this box!\" said Epimetheus, at last; for he had\ngrown extremely tired of the subject.  \"I wish, dear Pandora, you would\ntry to talk of something else.  Come, let us go and gather some ripe\nfigs, and eat them under the trees, for our supper.  And I know a vine\nthat has the sweetest and juiciest grapes you ever tasted.\"\n\n\"Always talking about grapes and figs!\" cried Pandora, pettishly.\n\n\"Well, then,\" said Epimetheus, who was a very good-tempered child, like a\nmultitude of children in those days, \"let us run out and have a merry\ntime with our playmates.\"\n\n\"I am tired of merry times, and don't care if I never have any more!\"\nanswered our pettish little Pandora.  \"And, besides, I never do have\nany.  This ugly box!  I am so taken up with thinking about it all the\ntime.  I insist upon your telling me what is inside of it.\"\n\n\"As I have already said, fifty times over, I do not know!\" replied\nEpimetheus, getting a little vexed.  \"How, then, can I tell you what is\ninside?\"\n\n\"You might open it,\" said Pandora, looking sideways at Epimetheus, \"and\nthen we could see for ourselves.\"\n\n\"Pandora, what are you thinking of?\" exclaimed Epimetheus.\n\nAnd his face expressed so much horror at the idea of looking into a box,\nwhich had been confided to him on the condition of his never opening it,\nthat Pandora thought it best not to suggest it any more.  Still,\nhowever, she could not help thinking and talking about the box.\n\n\"At least,\" said she, \"you can tell me how it came here.\"\n\n\"It was left at the door,\" replied Epimetheus, \"just before you came, by\na person who looked very smiling and intelligent, and who could hardly\nforbear laughing as he put it down.  He was dressed in an-odd kind of a\ncloak, and had on a cap that seemed to be made partly of feathers, so\nthat it looked almost as if it had wings.\"\n\n\"What sort of a staff had he?\" asked Pandora.\n\n\"O, the most curious staff you ever saw!\"  cried Epimetheus.  \"It was\nlike two serpents twisting around a stick, and was carved so naturally\nthat I, at first, bought the serpents were alive.\"\n\n\"I know him,\" said Pandora, thoughtfully.  \"Nobody else has such a\nstaff.  It was Quicksilver; and he brought one hither, as well as the\nbox.  No doubt he intended it for me; and, most probably, it contains\npretty dresses for me to wear, or toys for you and me to play with, or\nsomething very nice for us both to eat!\"\n\n\"Perhaps so,\" answered Epimetheus, turning away.\n\n\"But until Quicksilver comes back and tells us so, we have neither of us\nany right to lift the lid of the box.\"\n\n\"What a dull boy he is!\"  muttered Pandora, as Epimetheus left the\ncottage.  \"I do wish he had a little more enterprise!\"\n\nFor the first time since her arrival, Epimetheus had gone out without\nasking Pandora to accompany him.  He went to gather figs and grapes by\nhimself, or to seek whatever amusement he could find, in other society\nthan his little playfellow's.  He was tired to death of hearing about\nthe box, and heartily wished that Quicksilver, or whatever was the\nmessenger's name, had left it at some other child's door, where Pandora\nwould never have set eyes on it.  So perseveringly as she did babble\nabout this one thing!  The box, the box, and nothing but the box!  It\nseemed as if the box were bewitched, and as if the cottage were not big\nenough to hold it, without Pandora's continually stumbling over it, and\nmaking Epimetheus stumble over it likewise, and bruising all four of\ntheir shins.\n\nWell, it was really hard that poor Epimetheus should have a box in his\nears from morning till night; especially as the little people of the\nearth were so unaccustomed to vexations, in those happy days, that they\nknew not how to deal with them.  Thus, a small vexation made as much\ndisturbance, then, as a far bigger one would, in our own times.\n\nAfter Epimetheus was gone, Pandora stood gazing at the box.  She had\ncalled it ugly, above a hundred times; but, in spite of all that she had\nsaid against it, it was positively a very handsome article of furniture,\nand would have been quite an ornament to any room in which it should be\nplaced.  It was made of a beautiful kind of wood, with dark and rich\nveins spreading over its surface, which was so highly polished that\nlittle Pandora could see her face in it.  As the child had no other\nlooking-glass, it is odd that she did not value the box, merely on this\naccount.\n\nThe edges and corners of the box were carved with most wonderful skill.\nAround the margin there were figures of graceful men and women, and the\nprettiest children ever seen, reclining or sporting amid a profusion of\nflowers and foliage; and these various objects were so exquisitely\nrepresented, and were wrought together in such harmony, that flowers,\nfoliage, and human beings seemed to combine into a wreath of mingled\nbeauty.  But here and there, peeping forth from behind the carved\nfoliage, Pandora once or twice fancied that she saw a face not so\nlovely, or something or other that was disagreeable, and which stole the\nbeauty out of all the rest.  Nevertheless, on looking more closely, and\ntouching the spot with her finger, she could discover nothing of the\nkind.  Some face, that was really beautiful, had been made to look ugly\nby her catching a sideway glimpse at it.\n\nThe most beautiful face of all was done in what is called high relief,\nin the centre of the lid.  There was nothing else, save the dark, smooth\nrichness of the polished wood, and this one face in the centre, with a\ngarland of flowers about its brow.  Pandora had looked at this face a\ngreat many times, and imagined that the mouth could smile if it liked,\nor be grave when it chose, the same as any living mouth.  The features,\nindeed, all wore a very lively and rather mischievous expression, which\nlooked almost as if it needs must burst out of the carved lips, and\nutter itself in words.\n\nHad the mouth spoken, it would probably have been something like this:\n\n\"Do not be afraid, Pandora!  What harm can there be in opening the box?\nNever mind that poor, simple Epimetheus!  You are wiser than he, and\nhave ten times as much spirit.  Open the box, and see if you do not find\nsomething very pretty!\"\n\nThe box, I had almost forgotten to say, was fastened; not by a lock, nor\nby any other such contrivance, but by a very intricate knot of gold\ncord.  There appeared to be no end to this knot, and no beginning.\nNever was a knot so cunningly twisted, nor with so many ins and outs,\nwhich roguishly defied the skilfullest fingers to disentangle them.  And\nyet, by the very difficulty that there was in it, Pandora was the more\ntempted to examine the knot, and just see how it was made.  Two or three\ntimes, already, she had stooped over the box, and taken the knot between\nher thumb and forefinger, but without positively trying to undo it.\n\n\"I really believe,\" said she to herself, \"that I begin to see how it was\ndone.  Nay, perhaps I could tie it up again, after undoing it.  There\nwould be no harm in that, surely.  Even Epimetheus would not blame me\nfor that.  I need not open the box, and should not, of course, without\nthe foolish boy's consent, even if the knot were untied.\"\n\nIt might have been better for Pandora if she had had a little work to\ndo, or anything to employ her mind upon, so as not to be so constantly\nthinking of this one subject.  But children led so easy a life, before\nany Troubles came into the world, that they had really a great deal too\nmuch leisure.  They could not be forever playing at hide-and-seek among\nthe flower-shrubs, or at blind-man's-buff with garlands over their eyes,\nor at whatever other games had been found out, while Mother Earth was in\nher babyhood.  When life is all sport, toil is the real play.  There was\nabsolutely nothing to do.  A little sweeping and dusting about the\ncottage, I suppose, and the gathering of fresh flowers (which were only\ntoo abundant everywhere), and arranging them in vases,--and poor little\nPandora's day's work was over.  And then, for the rest of the day, there\nwas the box!\n\nAfter all, I am not quite sure that the box was not a blessing to her in\nits way.  It supplied her with such a variety of ideas to think of, and\nto talk about, whenever she had anybody to listen!  When she was in good\nhumor, she could admire the bright polish of its sides, and the rich\nborder of beautiful faces and foliage that ran all around it.  Or, if\nshe chanced to be ill-tempered, she could give it a push, or kick it\nwith her naughty little foot.  And many a kick did the box--(but it was\na mischievous box, as we shall see, and deserved all it got)--many a\nkick did it receive.  But, certain it is, if it had not been for the\nbox, our active-minded little Pandora would not have known half so well\nhow to spend her time as she now did.\n\nFor it was really an endless employment to guess what was inside.  What\ncould it be, indeed?  Just imagine, my little hearers, how busy your\nwits would be, if there were a great box in the house, which, as you\nmight have reason to suppose, contained something new and pretty for\nyour Christmas or New-Year's gifts.  Do you think that you should be\nless curious than Pandora?  If you were left alone with the box, might\nyou not feel a little tempted to lift the lid?  But you would not do it.\nO, fie!  No, no!  Only, if you thought there were toys in it, it would\nbe so very hard to let slip an opportunity of taking just one peep!  I\nknow not whether Pandora expected any toys; for none had yet begun to be\nmade, probably, in those days, when the world itself was one great\nplaything for the children that dwelt upon it.  But Pandora was\nconvinced that there was something very beautiful and valuable in the\nbox; and therefore she felt just as anxious to take a peep as any of\nthese little girls, here around me, would have felt.  And, possibly, a\nlittle more so; but of that I am not quite so certain.\n\nOn this particular day, however, which we have so long been talking\nabout, her curiosity grew so much greater than it usually was, that, at\nlast, she approached the box.  She was more than half determined to open\nit, if she could.  Ah, naughty Pandora!\n\nFirst, however, she tried to lift it.  It was heavy; quite too heavy for\nthe slender strength of a child, like Pandora.  She raised one end of\nthe box a few inches from the floor, and let it fall again, with a\npretty loud thump.  A moment afterwards, she almost fancied that she\nheard something stir, inside of the box.  She applied her ear as closely\nas possible, and listened. Positively, there did seem to be a kind of\nstifled murmur, within!  Or was it merely the singing in Pandora's ears?\nOr could it be the beating of her heart?  The child could not quite\nsatisfy herself whether she had heard anything or no.  But, at all\nevents, her curiosity was stronger than ever.\n\nAs she drew back her head, her eyes fell upon the knot of gold cord.\n\n\"It must have been a very ingenious person who tied this knot,\" said\nPandora to herself.  \"But I think I could untie it, nevertheless.  I am\nresolved, at least, to find the two ends of the cord.\"\n\nSo she took the golden knot in her fingers, and pried into its\nintricacies as sharply as she could.  Almost without intending it, or\nquite knowing what she was about, she was soon busily engaged in\nattempting to undo it.  Meanwhile, the bright sunshine came through the\nopen window; as did likewise the merry voices of the children, playing\nat a distance, and perhaps the voice of Epimetheus among then.  Pandora\nstopped to listen.  What a beautiful day it was!  Would it not be wiser,\nif she were to let the troublesome knot alone, and think no more about\nthe box, but run and join her little playfellows, and be happy?\n\nAll this time, however, her fingers were half unconsciously busy with\nthe knot; and happening to glance at the flower-wreathed face on the lid\nof the enchanted box, she seemed to perceive it slyly grinning at her.\n\n\"That face looks very mischievous,\" thought Pandora.  \"I wonder whether\nit smiles because I am doing wrong!  I have the greatest mind in the\nworld to run away!\"\n\nBut just then, by the merest accident, she gave the knot a kind of a\ntwist, which produced a wonderful result.  The gold cord untwined\nitself, as if by magic, and left the box without a fastening.\n\n\"This is the strangest thing I ever knew!\" said Pandora.  \"What will\nEpimetheus say?  And how can I possibly tie it up again?\"\n\nShe made one or two attempts to restore the knot, but soon found it\nquite beyond her skill.  It had disentangled itself so suddenly that she\ncould not in the least remember how the strings had been doubled into\none another; and when she tried to recollect the shape and appearance of\nthe knot, it seemed to have gone entirely out of her mind.  Nothing was\nto be done, therefore, but to let the box remain as it was, until\nEpimetheus should come in.\n\n\"But,\" said Pandora, \"when he finds the knot untied, he will know that I\nhave done it.  How shall I make him believe that I have not looked into\nthe box?\"\n\nAnd then the thought came into her naughty little heart, that, since she\nwould be suspected of having looked into the box, she might just as well\ndo so, at once.  O, very naughty and very foolish Pandora!  You should\nhave thought only of doing what was right, and of leaving undone what\nwas wrong, and not of what your playfellow Epimetheus would have said or\nbelieved.  And so perhaps she might, if the enchanted face on the lid of\nthe box had not looked so bewitchingly persuasive at her, and if she had\nnot seemed to hear, more distinctly than before, the murmur of small\nvoices within.  She could not tell whether it was fancy or no; but there\nwas quite a little tumult of whispers in her ear,--or else it was her\ncuriosity that whispered,\n\n\"Let us out, dear Pandora,--pray let us out!  We will be such nice\npretty playfellows for you!  Only let us out!\"\n\n\"What can it be?\" thought Pandora.  \"Is there something alive in the\nbox?  Well!--yes!--I am resolved to take just one peep!  Only one peep;\nand then the lid shall be shut down as safely as ever!  There cannot\npossibly be any harm in just one little peep!\"\n\nBut it is now time for us to see what Epimetheus was doing.\n\nThis was the first time, since his little playmate had come to dwell\nwith him, that he had attempted to enjoy any pleasure in which she did\nnot partake.  But nothing went right; nor was he nearly so happy as on\nother days.  He could not find a sweet grape or a ripe fig (if\nEpimetheus had a fault, it was a little too much fondness for figs); or,\nif ripe at all, they were over-ripe, and so sweet as to be cloying.\nThere was no mirth in his heart, such as usually made his voice gush\nout, of its own accord, and swell the merriment of his companions.  In\nshort, he grew so uneasy and discontented, that the other children could\nnot imagine what was the matter with Epimetheus.  Neither did he himself\nknow what ailed him, any better than they did.  For you must recollect,\nthat at the time we are speaking of, it was everybody's nature, and\nconstant habit, to be happy.  The world had not yet learned to be\notherwise.  Not a single soul or body, since these children were first\nsent to enjoy themselves on the beautiful earth, had ever been sick, or\nout of sorts.\n\nAt length, discovering that, somehow or other, he put a stop to all the\nplay, Epimetheus judged it best to go back to Pandora, who was in a\nhumor better suited to his own.  But, with a hope of giving her\npleasure, he gathered some flowers, and made them into a wreath, which\nhe meant to put upon her head.  The flowers were very lovely,--roses,\nand lilies, and orange-blossoms, and a great many more, which left a\ntrail of fragrance behind, as Epimetheus carried them along; and the\nwreath was put together with as much skill as could reasonably be\nexpected of a boy.  The fingers of little girls, it has always appeared\nto me, are the fittest to twine flower-wreaths; but boys could do it, in\nthose days, rather better than they can now.\n\nAnd here I must mention that a great black cloud had been gathering in\nthe sky, for some time past, although it had not yet overspread the sun.\nBut, just as Epimetheus reached the cottage door, this cloud began to\nintercept the sunshine, and thus to make a sudden and sad obscurity.\n\nHe entered softly; for he meant, if possible, to steal behind Pandora,\nand fling the wreath of flowers over her head, before she should be\naware of his approach.  But, as it happened, there was no need of his\ntreading so very lightly.  He might have trod as heavily as he\npleased,--as heavily as a grown man,--as heavily, I was going to say, as\nan elephant,--without much probability of Pandora's hearing his footsteps.\nShe was too intent upon her purpose.  At the moment of his entering the\ncottage, the naughty child had put her hand to the lid, and was on the\npoint of opening the mysterious box.  Epimetheus beheld her.  If he had\ncried out, Pandora would probably have withdrawn her hand, and the fatal\nmystery of the box might never have been known.\n\nBut Epimetheus himself, although he said very little about it, had his\nown share of curiosity to know what was inside.  Perceiving that Pandora\nwas resolved to find out the secret, he determined that his playfellow\nshould not be the only wise person in the cottage.  And if there were\nanything pretty or valuable in the box, he meant to take half of it to\nhimself.  Thus, after all his sage speeches to Pandora about restraining\nher curiosity, Epimetheus turned out to be quite as foolish, and nearly\nas much in fault, as she.  So, whenever we blame Pandora for what\nhappened, we must not forget to shake our heads at Epimetheus likewise.\n\nAs Pandora raised the lid, the cottage grew very dark and dismal; for\nthe black cloud had now swept quite over the sun, and seemed to have\nburied it alive.  There had, for a little while past, been a low\ngrowling and muttering, which all at once broke into a heavy peal of\nthunder.  But Pandora, heeding nothing of all this, lifted the lid\nnearly upright, and looked inside.  It seemed as if a sudden swarm of\nwinged creatures brushed past her, taking flight out of the box, while,\nat the same instant, she heard the voice of Epimetheus, with a\nlamentable tone, as if he were in pain.\n\n\"O, I am stung!\" cried he.  \"I am stung!  Naughty Pandora!  why have you\nopened this wicked box?\"\n\nPandora let fall the lid, and, starting up, looked about her, to see\nwhat had befallen Epimetheus.  The thundercloud had so darkened the room\nthat she could not very clearly discern what was in it.  But she heard a\ndisagreeable buzzing, as if a great many huge flies, or gigantic\nmosquitoes, or those insects which we call dorbugs and pinching-dogs,\nwere darting about.  And, as her eyes grew more accustomed to the\nimperfect light, she saw a crowd of ugly little shapes, with bats'\nwings, looking abominably spiteful, and armed with terribly long stings\nin their tails.  It was one of these that had stung Epimetheus.  Nor was\nit a great while before Pandora herself began to scream, in no less pain\nand affright than her playfellow, and making a vast deal more hubbub\nabout it.  An odious little monster had settled on her forehead, and\nwould have stung her I know not how deeply, if Epimetheus had not run\nand brushed it away.\n\nNow, if you wish to know what these ugly things might be, which had made\ntheir escape out of the box, I must tell you that they were the whole\nfamily of earthly Troubles.  There were evil Passions; there were a\ngreat many species of Cares; there were more than a hundred and fifty\nSorrows; there were Diseases, in a vast number of miserable and painful\nshapes; there were more kinds of Naughtiness than it would be of any use\nto talk about.  In short, everything that has since afflicted the souls\nand bodies of mankind had been shut up in the mysterious box, and given\nto Epimetheus and Pandora to be kept safely, in order that the happy\nchildren of the world might never be molested by them.  Had they been\nfaithful to their trust, all would have gone well.  No grown person\nwould ever have been sad, nor any child have had cause to shed a single\ntear, from that hour until this moment.\n\nBut--and you may see by this how a wrong act of any one mortal is a\ncalamity to the whole world--by Pandora's lifting the lid of that\nmiserable box, and by the fault of Epimetheus, too, in not preventing\nher, these Troubles have obtained a foothold among us, and do not seem\nvery likely to be driven away in a hurry.  For it was impossible, as you\nwill easily guess, that the two children should keep the ugly swarm in\ntheir own little cottage.  On the contrary, the first thing that they\ndid was to fling open the doors and windows, in hopes of getting rid of\nthem; and, sure enough, away flew the winged Troubles all abroad, and so\npestered and tormented the small people, everywhere about, that none of\nthem so much as smiled for many days afterwards.  And, what was very\nsingular, all the flowers and dewy blossoms on earth, not one of which\nhad hitherto faded, now began to droop and shed their leaves, after a\nday or two.  The children, moreover, who before seemed immortal in their\nchildhood, now grew older, day by day, and came soon to be youths and\nmaidens, and men and women by and by, and aged people, before they\ndreamed of such a thing.\n\nMeanwhile, the naughty Pandora, and hardly less naughty Epimetheus,\nremained in their cottage.  Both of them had been grievously stung, and\nwere in a good deal of pain, which seemed the more intolerable to them,\nbecause it was the very first pain that had ever been felt since the\nworld began.  Of course, they were entirely unaccustomed to it, and\ncould have no idea what it meant.  Besides all this, they were in\nexceedingly bad humor, both with themselves and with one another.  In\norder to indulge it to the utmost, Epimetheus sat down sullenly in a\ncorner with his back towards Pandora; while Pandora flung herself upon\nthe floor and rested her head on the fatal and abominable box.  She was\ncrying bitterly, and sobbing as if her heart would break.\n\nSuddenly there was a gentle little tap, on the inside of the lid.\n\n\"What can that be?\" cried Pandora, lifting her head.\n\nBut either Epimetheus had not heard the tap, or was too much out of\nhumor to notice it.  At any rate, he made no answer.\n\n\"You are very unkind,\" said Pandora, sobbing anew, \"not to speak to me!\"\n\nAgain the tap!  It sounded like the tiny knuckles of a fairy's hand,\nknocking lightly and playfully on the inside of the box.\n\n\"Who are you?\"  asked Pandora, with a little of her former curiosity.\n\"Who are you, inside of this naughty box?\"\n\nA sweet little voice spoke from within,--\n\n\"Only lift the lid, and you shall see.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" answered Pandora, again beginning to sob, \"I have had enough\nof lifting the lid!  You are inside of the box, naughty creature, and\nthere you shall stay!  There are plenty of your ugly brothers and\nsisters already flying about the world.  You need never think that I\nshall be so foolish as to let you out!\"\n\nShe looked towards Epimetheus, as she spoke, perhaps expecting that he\nwould commend her for her wisdom.  But the sullen boy only muttered that\nshe was wise a little too late.\n\n\"Ah,\" said the sweet little voice again, \"you had much better let me\nout.  I am not like those naughty creatures that have stings in their\ntails.  They are no brothers and sisters of mine, as you would see at\nonce, if you were only to get a glimpse of me.  Come, come, my pretty\nPandora!  I am sure you will let me out!\"\n\nAnd, indeed, there was a kind of cheerful witchery in the tone, that\nmade it almost impossible to refuse anything which this little voice\nasked.  Pandora's heart had insensibly grown lighter, at every word that\ncame from within the box.  Epimetheus, too, though still in the corner,\nhad turned half round, and seemed to be in rather better spirits than\nbefore.\n\n\"My dear Epimetheus,\" cried Pandora, \"have you heard this little voice?\"\n\n\"Yes, to be sure I have,\" answered he, but in no very good-humor as yet.\n\"And what of it?\"\n\n\"Shall I lift the lid again?\" asked Pandora.\n\n\"Just as you please,\" said Epimetheus.  \"You have done so much mischief\nalready, that perhaps you may as well do a little more.  One other\nTrouble, in such a swarm as you have set adrift about the world, can\nmake no very great difference.\"\n\n\"You might speak a little more kindly!\" murmured Pandora, wiping her\neyes.\n\n\"Ah, naughty boy!\" cried the little voice within the box, in an arch and\nlaughing tone.  \"He knows he is longing to see me.  Come, my dear\nPandora, lift up the lid.  I am in a great hurry to comfort you.  Only\nlet me have some fresh air, and you shall soon see that matters are not\nquite so dismal as you think them!\"\n\n\"Epimetheus,\" exclaimed Pandora, \"come what may, I am resolved to open\nthe box!\"\n\n\"And, as the lid seems very heavy,\" cried Epimetheus, running across the\nroom, \"I will help you!\"\n\nSo, with one consent, the two children again lifted the lid.  Out flew a\nsunny and smiling little personage, and hovered about the room, throwing\na light wherever she went.  Have you never made the sunshine dance into\ndark corners, by reflecting it from a bit of looking-glass?  Well, so\nlooked the winged cheerfulness of this fairylike stranger, amid the\ngloom of the cottage.  She flew to Epimetheus, and laid the least touch\nof her finger on the inflamed spot where the Trouble had stung him, and\nimmediately the anguish of it was gone.  Then she kissed Pandora on the\nforehead, and her hurt was cured likewise.\n\nAfter performing these good offices, the bright stranger fluttered\nsportively over the children's heads, and looked so sweetly at them,\nthat they both began to think it not so very much amiss to have opened\nthe box, since, otherwise, their cheery guest must have been kept a\nprisoner among those naughty imps with stings in their tails.\n\n\"Pray, who are you, beautiful creature?\" inquired Pandora.\n\n\"I am to be called Hope!\" answered the sunshiny figure.  \"And because I\nam such a cheery little body, I was packed into the box, to make amends\nto the human race for that swarm of ugly Troubles, which was destined to\nbe let loose among them.  Never fear! we shall do pretty well, in spite\nof them all.\"\n\n\"Your wings are colored like the rainbow!\"  exclaimed Pandora.  \"How\nvery beautiful!\"\n\n\"Yes, they are like the rainbow,\" said Hope, \"because glad as my nature\nis, I am partly made of tears as well as smiles.\"\n\n\"And will you stay with us,\" asked Epimetheus, \"for ever and ever?\"\n\n\"As long as you need me,\" said Hope, with her pleasant smile,--\"and that\nwill be as long as you live in the world,--I promise never to desert\nyou.  There may come times and seasons, now and then, when you will\nthink that I have utterly vanished.  But again, and again, and again,\nwhen perhaps you least dream of it, you shall see the glimmer of my\nwings on the ceiling of your cottage.  Yes, my dear children, and I know\nsomething very good and beautiful that is to be given you hereafter!\"\n\n\"O tell us,\" they exclaimed,--\"tell us what it is!\"\n\n\"Do not ask me,\" replied Hope, putting her finger on her rosy mouth.\n\"But do not despair, even if it should never happen while you live on\nthis earth.  Trust in my promise, for it is true.\"\n\n\"We do trust you!\" cried Epimetheus and Pandora, both in one breath.\n\nAnd so they did; and not only they, but so has everybody trusted Hope,\nthat has since been alive.  And, to tell you the truth, I cannot help\nbeing glad--(though, to be sure, it was an uncommonly naughty thing for\nher to do)-but I cannot help being glad that our foolish Pandora peeped\ninto the box.  No doubt--no doubt--the Troubles are still flying about\nthe world, and have increased in multitude, rather than lessened, and\nare a very ugly set of imps, and carry most venomous stings in their\ntails.  I have felt them already, and expect to feel them more, as I\ngrow older.  But then that lovely and lightsome little figure of Hope!\nWhat in the world could we do without her?  Hope spiritualizes the\nearth; Hope makes it always new; and, even in the earth's best and\nbrightest aspect, Hope shows it to be only the shadow of an infinite\nbliss hereafter!\n\n\n\nTANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM.\n\nAFTER THE STORY.\n\n\"Primrose,\" asked Eustace, pinching her ear, \"how do you like my little\nPandora?  Don't you think her the exact picture of yourself?  But you\nwould not have hesitated half so long about opening the box.\"\n\n\"Then I should have been well punished for my naughtiness,\" retorted\nPrimrose, smartly; \"for the first thing to pop out, after the lid was\nlifted, would have been Mr. Eustace Bright, in the shape of a Trouble.\"\n\n\"Cousin Eustace,\" said Sweet Fern, \"did the box hold all the trouble\nthat has ever come into the world?\"\n\n\"Every mite of it!\"  answered Eustace.  \"This very snow-storm, which has\nspoiled my skating, was packed up there.\"\n\n\"And how big was the box?\" asked Sweet Fern.  \"Why, perhaps three feet\nlong,\" said Eustace, \"two feet wide, and two feet and a half high.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said the child, \"you are making fun of me, Cousin Eustace!  I know\nthere is not trouble enough in the world to fill such a great box as\nthat.  As for the snow-storm, it is no trouble at all, but a pleasure;\nso it could not have been in the box.\"\n\n\"Hear the child!\" cried Primrose, with an air of superiority.  \"How\nlittle he knows about the troubles of this world!  Poor fellow!  He will\nbe wiser when he has seen as much of life as I have.\"\n\nSo saying, she began to skip the rope.\n\nMeantime, the day was drawing towards its close.  Out of doors the scene\ncertainly looked dreary.  There was a gray drift, far and wide, through\nthe gathering twilight; the earth was as pathless as the air; and the\nbank of snow over the steps of the porch proved that nobody had entered\nor gone out for a good many hours past.  Had there been only one child\nat the window of Tanglewood, gazing at this wintry prospect, it would\nperhaps have made him sad.  But half a dozen children together, though\nthey cannot quite turn the world into a paradise, may defy old Winter\nand all his storms to put them out of spirits.  Eustace Bright,\nmoreover, on the spur of the moment, invented several new kinds of play,\nwhich kept them all in a roar of merriment till bedtime, and served for\nthe next stormy day besides.","title":"The Paradise of Children: (From: \"A Wonder-Book for Girls and Boys\")","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":7065}