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How general is the republican form of government ？
Do men fly yet？
Has the universal language come into use？
Is there a new fuel since the English coal…mines have given out？
Is the euthanasia a recognized branch of medical science？
Is the oldest inhabitant still living？
Is the Daily Advertiser still published？
And the Evening Transcript？
Is there much inquiry for the works of a writer of the nineteenth
century （Old Style） bythe name ofof
My tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth。 I cannot imagine the
putting of that question without feeling the tremors which shake a
wooer as he falters out the words the answer to which will make him
happy or wretched。
Whose works was I going to question him about； do you ask me？
Oh； the writings of a friend of mine； much esteemed by his relatives
and others。 But it's of no consequence； after all； I think he says
he does not care much for posthumous reputation。
I find something of the same interest in thinking about one of the
boarders at our table that I find in my waking dreams concerning the
Man of the Monument。 This personage is the Register of Deeds。 He is
an unemotional character； living in his business almost as
exclusively as the Scarabee； but without any of that eagerness and
enthusiasm which belong to our scientific specialist。 His work is
largely； principally； I may say； mechanical。 He has developed；
however； a certain amount of taste for the antiquities of his
department； and once in a while brings out some curious result of his
investigations into ancient documents。 He too belongs to a dynasty
which will last as long as there is such a thing as property in land
and dwellings。 When that is done away with； and we return to the
state of villanage； holding our tenement…houses； all to be of the
same pattern； of the State； that is to say； of the Tammany Ring which
is to take the place of the feudal lord；the office of Register of
Deeds will； I presume； become useless； and the dynasty will be
deposed。
As we grow older we think more and more of old persons and of old
things and places。 As to old persons； it seems as if we never know
how much they have to tell until we are old ourselves and they have
been gone twenty or thirty years。 Once in a while we come upon some
survivor of his or her generation that we have overlooked； and feel
as if we had recovered one of the lost books of Livy or fished up the
golden candlestick from the ooze of the Tiber。 So it was the other
day after my reminiscences of the old gambrel…roofed house and its
visitors。 They found an echo in the recollections of one of the
brightest and liveliest of my suburban friends； whose memory is exact
about everything except her own age； which； there can be no doubt；
she makes out a score or two of years more than it really is。 Still
she was old enough to touch some lightsand a shadow or twointo
the portraits I had drawn； which made me wish that she and not I had
been the artist who sketched the pictures。 Among the lesser regrets
that mingle with graver sorrows for the friends of an earlier
generation we have lost； are our omissions to ask them so many
questions they could have answered easily enough； and would have been
pleased to be asked。 There！ I say to myself sometimes； in an absent
mood； I must ask her about that。 But she of whom I am now thinking
has long been beyond the reach of any earthly questioning； and I sigh
to think how easily I could have learned some fact which I should
have been happy to have transmitted with pious care to those who are
to come after me。 How many times I have heard her quote the line
about blessings brightening as they take their flight； and how true
it proves in many little ways that one never thinks of until it is
too late。
The Register of Deeds is not himself advanced in years。 But he
borrows an air of antiquity from the ancient records which are stored
in his sepulchral archives。 I love to go to his ossuary of dead
transactions； as I would visit the catacombs of Rome or Paris。 It is
like wandering up the Nile to stray among the shelves of his
monumental folios。 Here stands a series of volumes； extending over a
considerable number of years； all of which volumes are in his
handwriting。 But as you go backward there is a break； and you come
upon the writing of another person； who was getting old apparently；
for it is beginning to be a little shaky； and then you know that you
have gone back as far as the last days of his predecessor。 Thirty or
forty years more carry you to the time when this incumbent began the
duties of his office； his hand was steady then； and the next volume
beyond it in date betrays the work of a still different writer。 All
this interests me； but I do not see how it is going to interest my
reader。 I do not feel very happy about the Register of Deeds。 What
can I do with him？ Of what use is he going to be in my record of
what I have seen and heard at the breakfast…table？ The fact of his
being one of the boarders was not so important that I was obliged to
speak of him； and I might just as well have drawn on my imagination
and not allowed this dummy to take up the room which another guest
might have profitably filled at our breakfast…table。
I suppose he will prove a superfluity； but I have got him on my
hands； and I mean that he shall be as little in the way as possible。
One always comes across people in actual life who have no particular
business to be where we find them； and whose right to be at all is
somewhat questionable。
I am not going to get rid of the Register of Deeds by putting him out
of the way； but I confess I do not see of what service he is going to
be to me in my record。 I have often found； however； that the
Disposer of men and things understands much better than we do how to
place his pawns and other pieces on the chess…board of life。 A fish
more or less in the ocean does not seem to amount to much。 It is not
extravagant to say that any one fish may be considered a
supernumerary。 But when Captain Coram's ship sprung a leak and the
carpenter could not stop it； and the passengers had made up their
minds that it was all over with them； all at once； without any
apparent reason； the pumps began gaining on the leak； and the sinking
ship to lift herself out of the abyss which was swallowing her up。
And what do you think it was that saved the ship； and Captain Coram；
and so in due time gave to London that Foundling Hospital which he
endowed； and under the floor of which he lies buried？ Why； it was
that very supernumerary fish； which we held of so little account； but
which had wedged itself into the rent of the yawning planks； and
served to keep out the water until the leak was finally stopped。
I am very sure it was Captain Coram； but I almost hope it was
somebody else； in order to give some poor fellow who is lying in wait
for the periodicals a chance to correct me。 That will make him happy
for a month； and besides； he will not want to pick a quarrel about
anything else if he has that splendid triumph。 You remember
Alcibiades and his dog's tail。
Here you have the extracts I spoke of from the