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There is no quality more conspicuous in "Twice Told Tales" than the calm, evenly balanced mental condition of the author, who seems to look down on human life not so much from a church steeple as from the blue firmament itself. Such was the Eos or dawn of Hawthorne's literary art.
Spalton welcomed me back, and stood, that evening, before the fire in the sitting room, with his arm about my shoulder ... even as he did so I remembered the picture taken of him and the celebrated poet L'Estrange, together ... their arms about each other's shoulders ... and the current Eos proverb, that Spalton always quarrelled not long after with anyone about whose shoulder he first cast his arm.
I was the last of the file, but I now rushed past John Jones, who was before me, and next to the old lady, and sure enough there was the chair, in the wall, of him who was called in his day, and still is called by the mountaineers of Wales, though his body has been below the earth in the quiet churchyard one hundred and forty years, Eos Ceiriog, the Nightingale of Ceiriog, the sweet caroller Huw Morus, the enthusiastic partizan of Charles and the Church of England, and the never-tiring lampooner of Oliver and the Independents.
That reason also taken from the opposition of the shadow and the body, Col. ii. 17, doth militate against our holidays; for the Apostle there speaketh in the present time, ἐστι σκια: whereas the Judaical rites were abolished, whereupon Zanchius noteth, that the Apostle doth not so much speak of things by-past, as of the very nature of all rites, Definiens ergo ipsos ritus in sese, dixit eos nil aliud esse quam umbram.
I was dissatisfied with my reception by Captain Reud, of his Majesty's ship Eos, notwithstanding his skill at spinning upon a bottle; nor was I altogether satisfied with the blustering, half-protecting, half-overbearing conduct towards me, of his first-lieutenant, Mr Farmer.
Eos, Helios, Phoebus Apollo these had long been to him no more than names, with which he associated certain phenomena, certain processes and ideas; for he when he was not luxuriating in the bath, amusing himself in the gymnasium, at cock or quail-fights, in the theatre or at Dionysiac processions was wont to exercise his wits in the schools of the philosophers, so as to be able to shine in bandying words at entertainments; but to-day, and face to face with this sunrise, he believed as in the days of his childhood he saw in his mind's eye the god riding in his golden chariot, and curbing his foaming steeds, his shining train floating lightly round him, bearing torches or scattering flowers he threw up his arms with an impulse of devotion, praying aloud: "To-day I am happy and light of heart.
St. Matt. viii. 26; "Imperavit ventis et mari, et facta est tranquillitas magna." Ch. xxxi. section 2. St. John of the Cross, Spiritual Canticle, st. 24, p. 128, Eng. trans. St. Matt. x. 26, 28; "Ne ergo timueritis eos, . . . sed potius timete Eum." St. John viii. 44: "Mendax est, et pater ejus." How the Fears of the Saint Vanished.
The evening skies are fit weeds for widowed Eos weeping over the dying Sun; thin, formless, rent in carelessness, not in rage; and of all the hues of early autumn leaves, purple and brown, with green and primrose lakes of air between: but all hues weakened, mingled, chastened into loneliness, tenderness, regretfulness, through which still shines, in endless vistas of clear western light, the hope of the returning day.
"What is the name of the river, which runs beneath the bridge?" "The Ceiriog, sir." "The Ceiriog," said I; "the Ceiriog!" "Did you ever hear the name before, sir?" "I have heard of the Eos Ceiriog," said I; "the Nightingale of Ceiriog." "That was Huw Morris, sir; he was called the Nightingale of Ceiriog." "Did he live hereabout?"
It was the edge of the garment of the vanishing Eos, the leaves of the blossoms scattered by the Hours in the pathway of the four steeds of Helios, as they rose from the waves.
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