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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Attache; or, Sam Slick in England (V1)
+by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
+#3 in our series by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
+
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+Title: The Attache; or, Sam Slick in England (V1)
+
+Author: Thomas Chandler Haliburton
+
+Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7821]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on May 19, 2003]
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+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ATTACHE V1 ***
+
+
+
+
+This etext was produced by Gardner Buchanan.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ATTACHE; OR,
+SAM SLICK IN ENGLAND.
+
+BY THOMAS CHANDLER HALIBURTON.
+
+IN TWO VOLUMES.
+
+VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+(Greek Text)--GREEK PROVERB.
+
+Tell you what, report my speeches if you like, but if
+you put my talk in, I'll give you the mitten, as sure as
+you are born.--SLICKVILLE TRANSLATION
+
+
+
+
+London, July 3rd, 1843.
+
+MY DEAR HOPKINSON,
+
+I have spent so many agreeable hours at Edgeworth
+heretofore, that my first visit on leaving London, will
+be to your hospitable mansion. In the meantime, I beg
+leave to introduce to you my "Attache," who will precede
+me several days. His politics are similar to your own;
+I wish I could say as much in favour of his humour. His
+eccentricities will stand in need of your indulgence;
+but if you can overlook these, I am not without hopes
+that his originality, quaint sayings, and queer views of
+things in England, will afford you some amusement. At
+all events, I feel assured you will receive him kindly;
+if not for his own merits, at least for the sake of
+
+Yours always,
+
+THE AUTHOR.
+
+To EDMUND HOPKINSON ESQ.
+Edgeworth,
+Gloucestershire.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
+
+CHAPTER I. UNCORKING A BOTTLE
+CHAPTER II. A JUICY DAY IN THE COUNTRY
+CHAPTER III. TYING A NIGHT-CAP
+CHAPTER IV. HOME AND THE SEA
+CHAPTER V. T'OTHER EEND OF THE GUN
+CHAPTER VI. SMALL POTATOES AND FEW IN A HILL
+CHAPTER VII. A GENTLEMAN AT LARGE
+CHAPTER VIII. SEEING LIVERPOOL
+CHAPTER IX. CHANGING A NAME
+CHAPTER X. THE NELSON MONUMENT
+CHAPTER XI. COTTAGES
+CHAPTER XII. STEALING THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE
+CHAPTER XIII. NATUR'
+CHAPTER XIV. THE SOCDOLAGER
+CHAPTER XV. DINING OUT
+
+
+
+
+THE ATTACHE; OR SAM SLICK IN ENGLAND.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+UNCORKING A BOTTLE.
+
+We left New York in the afternoon of -- day of May, 184-,
+and embarked on board of the good Packet ship "Tyler"
+for England. Our party consisted of the Reverend Mr.
+Hopewell, Samuel Slick, Esq., myself, and Jube Japan, a
+black servant of the Attache.
+
+I love brevity--I am a man of few words, and, therefore,
+constitutionally economical of them; but brevity is apt
+to degenerate into obscurity. Writing a book, however,
+and book-making, are two very different things: "spinning
+a yarn" is mechanical, and book-making savours of trade,
+and is the employment of a manufacturer. The author by
+profession, weaves his web by the piece, and as there is
+much competition in this branch of trade, extends it over
+the greatest possible surface, so as to make the most of
+his raw material. Hence every work of fancy is made to
+reach to three volumes, otherwise it will not pay, and
+a manufacture that does not requite the cost of production,
+invariably and inevitably terminates in bankruptcy. A
+thought, therefore, like a pound of cotton, must be well
+spun out to be valuable. It is very contemptuous to say
+of a man, that he has but one idea, but it is the highest
+meed of praise that can be bestowed on a book. A man,
+who writes thus, can write for ever.
+
+Now, it is not only not my intention to write for ever,
+or as Mr. Slick would say "for everlastinly;" but to make
+my bow and retire very soon from the press altogether.
+I might assign many reasons for this modest course, all
+of them plausible, and some of them indeed quite dignified.
+I like dignity: any man who has lived the greater part
+of his life in a colony is so accustomed to it, that he
+becomes quite enamoured of it, and wrapping himself up
+in it as a cloak, stalks abroad the "observed of all
+observers." I could undervalue this species of writing
+if I thought proper, affect a contempt for idiomatic
+humour, or hint at the employment being inconsistent with
+the grave discharge of important official duties, which
+are so distressingly onerous, as not to leave me a moment
+for recreation; but these airs, though dignified, will
+unfortunately not avail me. I shall put my dignity into
+my pocket, therefore, and disclose the real cause of this
+diffidence.
+
+In the year one thousand eight hundred and fourteen, I
+embarked at Halifax on board the Buffalo store-ship for
+England. She was a noble teak built ship of twelve or
+thirteen hundred tons burden, had excellent accommodation,
+and carried over to merry old England, a very merry party
+of passengers, _quorum parva pars fui_, a youngster just
+emerged from college.
+
+On the banks of Newfoundland we were becalmed, and the
+passengers amused themselves by throwing overboard a
+bottle, and shooting at it with ball. The guns used for
+this occasion, were the King's muskets, taken from the
+arm-chest on the quarter-deck. The shooting was execrable.
+It was hard to say which were worse marksmen, the officers
+of the ship, or the passengers. Not a bottle was hit:
+many reasons were offered for this failure, but the two
+principal ones were, that the muskets were bad, and that
+it required great skill to overcome the difficulty
+occasioned by both, the vessel and the bottle being in
+motion at the same time, and that motion dissimilar.
+
+I lost my patience. I had never practised shooting with
+ball; I had frightened a few snipe, and wounded a few
+partridges, but that was the extent of my experience. I
+knew, however, that I could not by any possibility shoot
+worse than every body else had done, and might by accident
+shoot better.
+
+"Give me a gun, Captain," said I, "and I will shew you
+how to uncork that bottle."
+
+I took the musket, but its weight was beyond my strength
+of arm. I was afraid that I could not hold it out steadily,
+even for a moment, it was so very heavy--I threw it up
+with a desperate effort and fired. The neck of the bottle
+flew up in the air a full yard, and then disappeared. I
+was amazed myself at my success. Every body was surprised,
+but as every body attributed it to long practice, they
+were not so much astonished as I was, who knew it was
+wholly owing to chance. It was a lucky hit, and I made
+the most of it; success made me arrogant, and boy-like,
+I became a boaster.
+
+"Ah," said I coolly, "you must be born with a rifle in
+your hand, Captain, to shoot well. Every body shoots well
+in America. I do not call myself a good shot. I have not
+had the requisite experience; but there are those who
+can take out the eye of a squirrel at a hundred yards."
+
+"Can you see the eye of a squirrel at that distance?"
+said the Captain, with a knowing wink of his own little
+ferret eye.
+
+That question, which raised a general laugh at my expense,
+was a puzzler. The absurdity of the story, which I had
+heard a thousand times, never struck me so forcibly. But
+I was not to be pat down so easily.
+
+"See it!" said I, "why not? Try it and you will find your
+sight improve with your shooting. Now, I can't boast of
+being a good marksman myself; my studies" (and here I
+looked big, for I doubted if he could even read, much
+less construe a chapter in the Greek Testament) "did not
+leave me much time. A squirrel is too small an object
+for all but an experienced man, but a "_large_" mark like
+a quart bottle can easily be hit at a hundred yards--that
+is nothing."
+
+"I will take you a bet," said he, "of a doubloon, you do
+not do it again?"
+
+"Thank you," I replied with great indifference: "I never
+bet, and besides, that gun has so injured my shoulder,
+that I could not, if I would."
+
+By that accidental shot, I obtained a great name as a
+marksman, and by prudence I retained it all the voyage.
+This is precisely my case now, gentle reader. I made an
+accidental hit with the Clockmaker: when he ceases to
+speak, I shall cease to write. The little reputation I
+then acquired, I do not intend to jeopardize by trying
+too many experiments. I know that it was chance--many
+people think it was skill. If they choose to think so,
+they have a right to their opinion, and that opinion is
+fame. I value this reputation too highly not to take
+care of it.
+
+As I do not intend then to write often, I shall not
+wire-draw my subjects, for the mere purpose of filling
+my pages. Still a book should be perfect within itself,
+and intelligible without reference to other books. Authors
+are vain people, and vanity as well as dignity is indigenous
+to a colony. Like a pastry-cook's apprentice, I see so
+much of both their sweet things around me daily, that I
+have no appetite for either of them.
+
+I might perhaps be pardoned, if I took it for granted,
+that the dramatis personae of this work were sufficiently
+known, not to require a particular introduction. Dickens
+assumed the fact that his book on America would travel
+wherever the English language was spoken, and, therefore,
+called it "Notes for General Circulation." Even Colonists
+say, that this was too bad, and if they say so, it must
+be so. I shall, therefore, briefly state, who and what
+the persons are that composed our travelling party, as
+if they were wholly unknown to fame, and then leave them
+to speak for themselves.
+
+The Reverend Mr. Hopewell is a very aged clergyman of
+the Church of England, and was educated at Cambridge
+College, in Massachusetts. Previously to the revolution,
+he was appointed rector of a small parish in Connecticut.
+When the colonies obtained their independence, he remained
+with his little flock in his native land, and continued
+to minister to their spiritual wants until within a few
+years, when his parishioners becoming Unitarians, gave
+him his dismissal. Affable in his manners and simple in
+his habits, with a mind well stored with human lore, and
+a heart full of kindness for his fellow-creatures, he
+was at once an agreeable and an instructive companion.
+Born and educated in the United States, when they were
+British dependencies, and possessed of a thorough knowledge
+of the causes which led to the rebellion, and the means
+used to hasten the crisis, he was at home on all colonial
+topics; while his great experience of both monarchical
+and democratical governments, derived from a long residence
+in both, made him a most valuable authority on politics
+generally.
+
+Mr. Samuel Slick is a native of the same parish, and
+received his education from Mr. Hopewell. I first became
+acquainted with him while travelling in Nova Scotia. He
+was then a manufacturer and vendor of wooden clocks. My
+first impression of him was by no means favourable. He
+forced himself most unceremoniously into my company and
+conversation. I was disposed to shake him off, but could
+not. Talk he would, and as his talk was of that kind,
+which did not require much reply on my part, he took my
+silence for acquiescence, and talked on. I soon found
+that he was a character; and, as he knew every part of
+the lower colonies, and every body in them, I employed
+him as my guide.
+
+I have made at different times three several tours with
+him, the results of which I have given in three several
+series of a work, entitled the "Clockmaker, or the Sayings
+and Doings of Mr. Samuel Slick." Our last tour terminated
+at New York, where, in consequence of the celebrity he
+obtained from these "Sayings and Doings" he received the
+appointment of Attache to the American Legation at the
+Court of St. James's. The object of this work is to
+continue the record of his observations and proceedings
+in England.
+
+The third person of the party, gentle reader, is your
+humble servant, Thomas Poker, Esquire, a native of Nova
+Scotia, and a retired member of the Provincial bar. My
+name will seldom appear in these pages, as I am uniformly
+addressed by both my companions as "Squire," nor shall
+I have to perform the disagreeable task of "reporting my
+own speeches," for naturally taciturn, I delight in
+listening rather than talking, and modestly prefer the
+duties of an amanuensis, to the responsibilities of
+original composition.
+
+The last personage is Jube Japan, a black servant of the
+Attache.
+
+Such are the persons who composed the little party that
+embarked at New York, on board the Packet ship "Tyler,"
+and sailed on the -- of May, 184-, for England.
+
+The motto prefixed to this work
+
+ (Greek Text)
+
+sufficiently explains its character. Classes and not
+individuals have been selected for observation. National
+traits are fair subjects for satire or for praise, but
+personal peculiarities claim the privilege of exemption
+in right of that hospitality, through whose medium they
+have been alone exhibited. Public topics are public
+property; every body has a right to use them without
+leave and without apology. It is only when we quit the
+limits of this "common" and enter upon "private grounds,"
+that we are guilty of "a trespass." This distinction is
+alike obvious to good sense and right feeling. I have
+endeavoured to keep it constantly in view; and if at any
+time I shall be supposed to have erred (I say "supposed,"
+for I am unconscious of having done so) I must claim the
+indulgence always granted to involuntary offences.
+
+Now the patience of my reader may fairly be considered
+a "private right." I shall, therefore, respect its
+boundaries and proceed at once with my narrative, having
+been already quite long enough about "uncorking a bottle."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+A JUICY DAY IN THE COUNTRY.
+
+All our preparations for the voyage having been completed,
+we spent the last day at our disposal, in visiting
+Brooklyn. The weather was uncommonly fine, the sky being
+perfectly clear and unclouded; and though the sun shone
+out brilliantly, the heat was tempered by a cool, bracing,
+westwardly wind. Its influence was perceptible on the
+spirits of every body on board the ferry-boat that
+transported us across the harbour.
+
+"Squire," said Mr. Slick, aint this as pretty a day as
+you'll see atween this and Nova Scotia?--You can't beat
+American weather, when it chooses, in no part of the
+world I've ever been in yet. This day is a tip-topper,
+and it's the last we'll see of the kind till we get back
+agin, _I_ know. Take a fool's advice, for once, and stick
+to it, as long as there is any of it left, for you'll
+see the difference when you get to England. There never
+was so rainy a place in the univarse, as that, I don't
+think, unless it's Ireland, and the only difference atween
+them two is that it rains every day amost in England,
+and in Ireland it rains every day and every night too.
+It's awful, and you must keep out of a country-house in
+such weather, or you'll go for it; it will kill you,
+that's sartain. I shall never forget a juicy day I once
+spent in one of them dismal old places. I'll tell you
+how I came to be there.
+
+"The last time I was to England, I was a dinin' with our
+consul to Liverpool, and a very gentleman-like old man
+he was too; he was appointed by Washington, and had been
+there ever since our glorious revolution. Folks gave him
+a great name, they said he was a credit to us. Well, I
+met at his table one day an old country squire, that
+lived somewhere down in Shropshire, close on to Wales,
+and says he to me, arter cloth was off and cigars on,
+'Mr. Slick,' says he, 'I'll be very glad to see you to
+Norman Manor,' (that was the place where he staid, when
+he was to home). 'If you will return with me I shall be
+glad to shew you the country in my neighbourhood, which
+is said to be considerable pretty.'
+
+"'Well,' says I, 'as I have nothin' above particular to
+see to, I don't care if I do go.'
+
+"So off we started; and this I will say, he was as kind
+as he cleverly knew how to be, and that is sayin' a great
+deal for a man that didn't know nothin' out of sight of
+his own clearin' hardly.
+
+"Now, when we got there, the house was chock full of
+company, and considerin' it warn't an overly large one,
+and that Britishers won't stay in a house, unless every
+feller gets a separate bed, it's a wonder to me, how he
+stowed away as many as he did. Says he, 'Excuse your
+quarters, Mr. Slick, but I find more company nor I expected
+here. In a day or two, some on 'em will be off, and then
+you shall be better provided.'
+
+"With that I was showed up a great staircase, and out o'
+that by a door-way into a narrer entry and from that into
+an old T like looking building, that stuck out behind
+the house. It warn't the common company sleepin' room,
+I expect, but kinder make shifts, tho' they was good
+enough too for the matter o' that; at all events I don't
+want no better.
+
+"Well, I had hardly got well housed a'most, afore it came
+on to rain, as if it was in rael right down airnest. It
+warn't just a roarin', racin', sneezin' rain like a
+thunder shower, but it kept a steady travellin' gait, up
+hill and down dale, and no breathin' time nor batin'
+spell. It didn't look as if it would stop till it was
+done, that's a fact. But still as it was too late to go
+out agin that arternoon, I didn't think much about it
+then. I hadn't no notion what was in store for me next
+day, no more nor a child; if I had, I'd a double deal
+sooner hanged myself, than gone brousing in such place
+as that, in sticky weather.
+
+"A wet day is considerable tiresome, any where or any
+way you can fix it; but it's wus at an English country
+house than any where else, cause you are among strangers,
+formal, cold, gallus polite, and as thick in the head-piece
+as a puncheon. You hante nothin' to do yourself and they
+never have nothin' to do; they don't know nothin' about
+America, and don't want to. Your talk don't interest
+them, and they can't talk to interest nobody but themselves;
+all you've got to do, is to pull out your watch and see
+how time goes; how much of the day is left, and then go
+to the winder and see how the sky looks, and whether
+there is any chance of holdin' up or no. Well, that time
+I went to bed a little airlier than common, for I felt
+considerable sleepy, and considerable strange too; so as
+soon as I cleverly could, I off and turned in.
+
+"Well I am an airly riser myself. I always was from a
+boy, so I waked up jist about the time when day ought to
+break, and was a thinkin' to get up; but the shutters
+was too, and it was as dark as ink in the room, and I
+heer'd it rainin' away for dear life. 'So,' sais I to
+myself, 'what the dogs is the use of gittin' up so airly?
+I can't get out and get a smoke, and I can't do nothin'
+here; so here goes for a second nap.' Well I was soon
+off agin in a most a beautiful of a snore, when all at
+once I heard thump-thump agin the shutter--and the most
+horrid noise I ever heerd since I was raised; it was
+sunthin' quite onairthly.
+
+"'Hallo!' says I to myself, 'what in natur is all this
+hubbub about? Can this here confounded old house be
+harnted? Is them spirits that's jabbering gibberish there,
+or is I wide awake or no?' So I sets right up on my hind
+legs in bed, rubs my eyes, opens my ears and listens
+agin, when whop went every shutter agin, with a dead
+heavy sound, like somethin' or another thrown agin 'em,
+or fallin' agin 'em, and then comes the unknown tongues
+in discord chorus like. Sais I, 'I know now, it's them
+cussed navigators. They've besot the house, and are a
+givin' lip to frighten folks. It's regular banditti.'
+
+"So I jist hops out of bed, and feels for my trunk, and
+outs with my talkin' irons, that was all ready loaded,
+pokes my way to the winder--shoves the sash up and outs
+with the shutter, ready to let slip among 'em. And what
+do you think it was?--Hundreds and hundreds of them nasty,
+dirty, filthy, ugly, black devils of rooks, located in
+the trees at the back eend of the house. Old Nick couldn't
+have slept near 'em; caw caw, caw, all mixt up together
+in one jumble of a sound, like "jawe."
+
+"You black, evil-lookin', foul-mouthed villains,' sais
+I, 'I'd like no better sport than jist to sit here, all
+this blessed day with these pistols, and drop you one
+arter another, _I_ know.' But they was pets, was them
+rooks, and of course like all pets, everlastin' nuisances
+to every body else.
+
+"Well, when a man's in a feeze, there's no more sleep
+that hitch; so I dresses and sits up; but what was I to
+do? It was jist half past four, and as it was a rainin'
+like every thing, I know'd breakfast wouldn't be ready
+till eleven o'clock, for nobody wouldn't get up if they
+could help it--they wouldn't be such fools; so there was
+jail for six hours and a half.
+
+"Well, I walked up and down the room, as easy as I could,
+not to waken folks; but three steps and a round turn
+makes you kinder dizzy, so I sits down again to chaw the
+cud of vexation.
+
+"'Ain't this a handsum fix?' sais I, 'but it sarves you
+right, what busniss had you here at all? you always was
+a fool, and always will be to the eend of the chapter.
+--'What in natur are you a scoldin' for?' sais I: 'that
+won't mend the matter; how's time? They must soon be a
+stirrin' now, I guess.' Well, as I am a livin' sinner,
+it was only five o'clock; 'oh dear,' sais I, 'time is
+like women and pigs the more you want it to go, the more
+it won't. What on airth shall I do?--guess, I'll strap
+my rasor.'
+
+"Well, I strapped and strapped away, until it would cut
+a single hair pulled strait up on eend out o' your head,
+without bendin' it--take it off slick. 'Now,' sais I,
+'I'll mend my trowsers I tore, a goin' to see the ruin
+on the road yesterday; so I takes out Sister Sall's little
+needle-case, and sows away till I got them to look
+considerable jam agin; 'and then,' sais I, 'here's a
+gallus button off, I'll jist fix that,' and when that
+was done, there was a hole to my yarn sock, so I turned
+too and darned that.
+
+"'Now,' sais I, 'how goes it? I'm considerable sharp set.
+It must be gettin' tolerable late now.' It wanted a
+quarter to six. 'My! sakes,' sais I, 'five hours and a
+quarter yet afore feedin' time; well if that don't pass.
+What shall I do next?' 'I'll tell you what to do,' sais
+I, 'smoke, that will take the edge of your appetite off,
+and if they don't like it, they may lump it; what business
+have they to keep them horrid screetchin' infarnal,
+sleepless rooks to disturb people that way?' Well, I
+takes a lucifer, and lights a cigar, and I puts my head up
+the chimbly to let the smoke off, and it felt good, I
+promise _you_. I don't know as I ever enjoyed one half so
+much afore. It had a rael first chop flavour had that cigar.
+
+"'When that was done,' sais I, 'What do you say to
+another?' 'Well, I don't know,' sais I, 'I should like
+it, that's a fact; but holdin' of my head crooked up
+chimbly that way, has a' most broke my neck; I've got
+the cramp in it like.'
+
+"So I sot, and shook my head first a one side and then
+the other, and then turned it on its hinges as far as it
+would go, till it felt about right, and then I lights
+another, and puts my head in the flue again.
+
+"Well, smokin' makes, a feller feel kinder good-natured,
+and I began to think it warn't quite so bad arter all,
+when whop went my cigar right out of my mouth into my
+bosom, atween the shirt and the skin, and burnt me like
+a gally nipper. Both my eyes was fill'd at the same time,
+and I got a crack on the pate from some critter or another
+that clawed and scratched my head like any thing, and
+then seemed to empty a bushel of sut on me, and I looked
+like a chimbly sweep, and felt like old Scratch himself.
+My smoke had brought down a chimbly swaller, or a martin,
+or some such varmint, for it up and off agin' afore I
+could catch it, to wring its infarnal neck off, that's
+a fact.
+
+"Well, here was somethin' to do, and no mistake: here
+was to clean and groom up agin' till all was in its right
+shape; and a pretty job it was, I tell you. I thought
+I never should get the sut out of my hair, and then never
+get it out of my brush again, and my eyes smarted so,
+they did nothing but water, and wink, and make faces.
+But I did; I worked on and worked on, till all was sot
+right once more.
+
+"'Now,' sais I, 'how's time?' 'half past seven,' sais I,
+'and three hours and a half more yet to breakfast. Well,'
+sais I, 'I can't stand this--and what's more I won't: I
+begin to get my Ebenezer up, and feel wolfish. I'll ring
+up the handsum chamber-maid, and just fall to, and chaw
+her right up--I'm savagerous.'* 'That's cowardly,' sais
+I, 'call the footman, pick a quarrel with him and kick
+him down stairs, speak but one word to him, and let that
+be strong enough to skin the coon arter it has killed
+him, the noise will wake up folks _I_ know, and then we
+shall have sunthin' to eat.'
+
+[* Footnote: The word "savagerous" is not of "Yankee"
+but of "Western origin."--Its use in this place is best
+explained by the following extract from the Third Series
+of the Clockmaker. "In order that the sketch which I am
+now about to give may be fully understood, it may be
+necessary to request the reader to recollect that Mr.
+Slick is a _Yankee_, a designation the origin of which
+is now not very obvious, but it has been assumed by, and
+conceded by common consent to, the inhabitants of New
+England. It is a name, though sometimes satirically used,
+of which they have great reason to be proud, as it is
+descriptive of a most cultivated, intelligent, enterprising,
+frugal, and industrious population, who may well challenge
+a comparison with the inhabitants of any other country
+in the world; but it has only a local application.
+
+"The United States cover an immense extent of territory,
+and the inhabitants of different parts of the Union differ
+as widely in character, feelings, and even in appearance,
+as the people of different countries usually do. These
+sections differ also in dialect and in humour, as much
+as in other things, and to as great, if not a greater
+extent, than the natives of different parts of Great
+Britain vary from each other. It is customary in Europe
+to call all Americans, Yankees; but it is as much a
+misnomer as it would be to call all Europeans Frenchmen.
+Throughout these works it will be observed, that Mr.
+Slick's pronunciation is that of the Yankee, or an
+inhabitant of the _rural districts_ of New England. His
+conversation is generally purely so; but in some instances
+he uses, as his countrymen frequently do from choice,
+phrases which, though Americanisms, are not of Eastern
+origin. Wholly to exclude these would be to violate the
+usages of American life; to introduce them oftener would
+be to confound two dissimilar dialects, and to make an
+equal departure from the truth. Every section has its
+own characteristic dialect, a very small portion of which
+it has imparted to its neighbours. The dry, quaint humour
+of New England is occasionally found in the west, and
+the rich gasconade and exaggerative language of the west
+migrates not unfrequently to the east. This idiomatic
+exchange is perceptibly on the increase. It arises from
+the travelling propensities of the Americans, and the
+constant intercourse mutually maintained by the inhabitants
+of the different States. A droll or an original expression
+is thus imported and adopted, and, though not indigenous,
+soon becomes engrafted on the general stock of the language
+of the country."--3rd Series, p. 142.]
+
+"I was ready to bile right over, when as luck would have
+it, the rain stopt all of a sudden, the sun broke out o'
+prison, and I thought I never seed any thing look so
+green and so beautiful as the country did. 'Come,' sais
+I, 'now for a walk down the avenue, and a comfortable
+smoke, and if the man at the gate is up and stirrin', I
+will just pop in and breakfast with him and his wife.
+There is some natur there, but here it's all cussed rooks
+and chimbly swallers, and heavy men and fat women, and
+lazy helps, and Sunday every day in the week.' So I fills
+my cigar-case and outs into the passage.
+
+"But here was a fix! One of the doors opened into the
+great staircase, and which was it? 'Ay,' sais I, 'which
+is it, do you know?' 'Upon my soul, I don't know,' sais
+I; 'but try, it's no use to be caged up here like a
+painter, and out I will, that's a fact.'
+
+"So I stops and studies, 'that's it,' sais I, and I opens
+a door: it was a bedroom--it was the likely chambermaid's.
+
+"'Softly, Sir,' sais she, a puttin' of her finger on her
+lip, 'don't make no noise; Missus will hear you.'
+
+"'Yes,' sais I, 'I won't make no noise;' and I outs and
+shuts the door too arter me gently.
+
+"'What next?' sais I; 'why you fool, you,' sais I, 'why
+didn't you ax the sarvant maid, which door it was?' 'Why
+I was so conflastrigated,' sais I, 'I didn't think of
+it. Try that door,' well I opened another, it belonged
+to one o' the horrid hansum stranger galls that dined at
+table yesterday. When she seed me, she gave a scream,
+popt her head onder the clothes, like a terrapin, and
+vanished--well I vanished too.
+
+"'Ain't this too bad?' sais I; 'I wish I could open a
+man's door, I'd lick him out of spite; I hope I may be
+shot if I don't, and I doubled up my fist, for I didn't
+like it a spec, and opened another door--it was the
+housekeeper's. 'Come,' sais I, 'I won't be balked no
+more.' She sot up and fixed her cap. A woman never forgets
+the becomins.
+
+'"Anything I can do for you, Sir?' sais she, and she
+raelly did look pretty; all good natur'd people, it
+appears to me, do look so.
+
+"'Will you be so good as to tell me, which door leads to
+the staircase, Marm?' sais I.
+
+"'Oh, is that all?' sais she, (I suppose, she thort I
+wanted her to get up and get breakfast for me,) 'it's
+the first on the right, and she fixed her cap agin' and
+laid down, and I took the first on the right and off like
+a blowed out candle. There was the staircase. I walked
+down, took my hat, onbolted the outer door, and what a
+beautiful day was there. I lit my cigar, I breathed
+freely, and I strolled down the avenue.
+
+"The bushes glistened, and the grass glistened, and the
+air was sweet, and the birds sung, and there was natur'
+once more. I walked to the lodge; they had breakfasted
+had the old folks, so I chatted away with them for a
+considerable of a spell about matters and things in
+general, and then turned towards the house agin'. 'Hallo!'
+sais I, 'what's this? warn't that a drop of rain?' I
+looks up, it was another shower by Gosh. I pulls foot
+for dear life: it was tall walking you may depend, but
+the shower wins, (comprehens_ive_ as my legs be), and
+down it comes, as hard as all possest. 'Take it easy,
+Sam,' sais I, 'your flint is fixed; you are wet
+thro'--runnin' won't dry you,' and I settled down to a
+careless walk, quite desperate.
+
+"'Nothin' in natur', unless it is an Ingin, is so
+treacherous as the climate here. It jist clears up on
+purpose I do believe, to tempt you out without your
+umbreller, and jist as sure as you trust it and leave it
+to home, it clouds right up, and sarves you out for it--it
+does indeed. What a sight of new clothes I've spilte
+here, for the rain has a sort of dye in it. It stains
+so, it alters the colour of the cloth, for the smoke is
+filled with gas and all sorts of chemicals. Well, back
+I goes to my room agin' to the rooks, chimbly swallers,
+and all, leavin' a great endurin' streak of wet arter me
+all the way, like a cracked pitcher that leaks; onriggs,
+and puts on dry clothes from head to foot.
+
+"By this time breakfast is ready; but the English don't
+do nothin' like other folks; I don't know whether it's
+affectation, or bein' wrong in the head--a little of both
+I guess. Now where do you suppose the solid part of
+breakfast is, Squire? Why, it's on the side-board--I hope
+I may be shot if it ain't--well, the tea and coffee are
+on the table, to make it as onconvenient as possible.
+
+"Says I, to the lady of the house, as I got up to help
+myself, for I was hungry enough to make beef ache I know.
+'Aunty,' sais I, 'you'll excuse me, but why don't you
+put the eatables on the table, or else put the tea on
+the side-board? They're like man and wife, they don't
+ought to be separated, them two.'
+
+"She looked at me, oh what a look of pity it was", as
+much as to say, 'Where have you been all your born days,
+not to know better nor that?--but I guess you don't know
+better in the States--how could you know any thing there?'
+But she only said it was the custom here, for she was a
+very purlite old woman, was Aunty.
+
+"Well sense is sense, let it grow where it will, and I
+guess we raise about the best kind, which is common sense,
+and I warn't to be put down with short metre, arter that
+fashion. So I tried the old man; sais I, 'Uncle,' sais
+I, 'if you will divorce the eatables from the drinkables
+that way, why not let the servants come and tend. It's
+monstrous onconvenient and ridikilous to be a jumpin' up
+for everlastinly that way; you can't sit still one blessed
+minit.'
+
+"'We think it pleasant,' said he, 'sometimes to dispense
+with their attendance.'
+
+"'Exactly,' sais I, 'then dispense with sarvants at
+dinner, for when the wine is in, the wit is out.' (I said
+that to compliment him, for the critter had no wit in at
+no time,) 'and they hear all the talk. But at breakfast
+every one is only half awake, (especially when you rise
+so airly as you do in this country,' sais I, but the old
+critter couldn't see a joke, even if he felt it, and he
+didn't know I was a funnin'.) 'Folks are considerably
+sharp set at breakfast,' sais I, 'and not very talkat_ive_.
+That's the right time to have sarvants to tend on you.'
+
+"'What an idea!' said he, and he puckered up his pictur,
+and the way he stared was a caution to an owl.
+
+"Well, we sot and sot till I was tired, so thinks I,
+'what's next?' for it's rainin' agin as hard as ever.'
+So I took a turn in the study to sarch for a book, but
+there was nothin' there, but a Guide to the Sessions,
+Burn's Justice, and a book of London club rules, and two
+or three novels. He said he got books from the sarkilatin'
+library.
+
+"'Lunch is ready.'
+
+"'What, eatin' agin? My goody!' thinks I, 'if you are so
+fond of it, why the plague don't you begin airly? If
+you'd a had it at five o'clock this morning, I'd a done
+justice to it; now I couldn't touch it if I was to die.'
+
+"There it was, though. Help yourself, and no thanks, for
+there is no sarvants agin. The rule here is, no talk no
+sarvants--and when it's all talk, it's all sarvants.
+
+"Thinks I to myself, 'now, what shall I do till dinner-time,
+for it rains so there is no stirrin' out?--Waiter, where
+is eldest son?--he and I will have a game of billiards,
+I guess.'
+
+"'He is laying down, sir.'
+
+"'Shows his sense,' sais I, 'I see, he is not the fool
+I took him to be. If I could sleep in the day, I'de turn
+in too. Where is second son?'
+
+"'Left this mornin' in the close carriage, sir.'
+
+"'Oh cuss him, it was him then was it?'
+
+"'What, Sir?'
+
+"'That woke them confounded rooks up, out o' their fust
+nap, and kick't up such a bobbery. Where is the Parson?'
+
+"'Which one, Sir?'
+
+"'The one that's so fond of fishing.'
+
+"'Ain't up yet, Sir.'
+
+"'Well, the old boy, that wore breeches.'
+
+"Out on a sick visit to one of the cottages, Sir.'
+
+"When he comes in, send him to me, I'm shockin' sick.'
+
+"With that I goes to look arter the two pretty galls in
+the drawin' room; and there was the ladies a chatterin'
+away like any thing. The moment I came in it was as dumb
+as a quaker's meetin'. They all hauled up at once, like
+a stage-coach to an inn-door, from a hand-gallop to a
+stock still stand. I seed men warn't wanted there, it
+warn't the custom so airly, so I polled out o' that creek,
+starn first. They don't like men in the mornin', in
+England, do the ladies; they think 'em in the way.
+
+"'What on airth, shall I do?' says I, 'it's nothin' but
+rain, rain, rain--here in this awful dismal country.
+Nobody smokes, nobody talks, nobody plays cards, nobody
+fires at a mark, and nobody trades; only let me get thro'
+this juicy day, and I am done: let me get out of this
+scrape, and if I am caught agin, I'll give you leave to
+tell me of it, in meetin'. It tante pretty, I do suppose
+to be a jawin' with the butler, but I'll make an excuse
+for a talk, for talk comes kinder nateral to me, like
+suction to a snipe.'
+
+"'Waiter?'
+
+"'Sir.'
+
+"'Galls don't like to be tree'd here of a mornin' do
+they?'
+
+"'Sir.'
+
+"'It's usual for the ladies,' sais I, 'to be together in
+the airly part of the forenoon here, ain't it, afore the
+gentlemen jine them?'
+
+'"Yes, Sir.'
+
+"'It puts me in mind,' sais I, 'of the old seals down to
+Sable Island--you know where Sable Isle is, don't you?'
+
+"'Yes, Sir, it's in the cathedral down here.'
+
+"'No, no, not that, it's an island on the coast of Nova
+Scotia. You know where that is sartainly.'
+
+"'I never heard of it, Sir.'
+
+"'Well, Lord love you! you know what an old seal is?'
+
+"'Oh, yes, sir, I'll get you my master's in a moment.'
+
+And off he sot full chisel.
+
+"Cus him! he is as stupid as a rook, that crittur, it's
+no use to tell him a story, and now I think of it, I will
+go and smoke them black imps of darkness,--the rooks.'
+
+"So I goes up stairs, as slowly as I cleverly could, jist
+liftin' one foot arter another as if it had a fifty-six
+tied to it, on pupus to spend time; lit a cigar, opened
+the window nearest the rooks, and smoked, but oh the rain
+killed all the smoke in a minite; it didn't even make
+one on 'em sneeze. 'Dull musick this, Sam,' sais I, 'ain't
+it? Tell you what: I'll put on my ile-skin, take an
+umbreller and go and talk to the stable helps, for I feel
+as lonely as a catamount, and as dull as a bachelor
+beaver. So I trampousses off to the stable, and says I
+to the head man, 'A smart little hoss that,' sais I, 'you
+are a cleaning of: he looks like a first chop article
+that.'
+
+"'Y mae',' sais he.
+
+"'Hullo,' sais I, 'what in natur' is this? Is it him that
+can't speak English, or me that can't onderstand? for
+one on us is a fool, that's sartain. I'll try him agin.
+
+"So I sais to him, 'He looks,' sais I, 'as if he'd trot
+a considerable good stick, that horse,' sais I, 'I guess
+he is a goer.'
+
+"Y' mae, ye un trotter da,' sais he.
+
+"'Creation!' sais I, 'if this don't beat gineral trainin'.
+I have heerd in my time, broken French, broken Scotch,
+broken Irish, broken Yankee, broken Nigger, and broken
+Indgin; but I have hearn two pure gene_wine_ languages
+to-day, and no mistake, rael rook, and rael Britton, and
+I don't exactly know which I like wus. It's no use to
+stand talkin' to this critter. Good-bye,' sais I.
+
+"Now what do you think he said? Why, you would suppose
+he'd say good-bye too, wouldn't you? Well, he didn't,
+nor nothin' like it, but he jist ups, and sais,
+'Forwelloaugh,' he did, upon my soul. I never felt so
+stumpt afore in all my life. Sais I, 'Friend, here is
+half a dollar for you; it arn't often I'm brought to a
+dead stare, and when I am, I am willin' to pay for it.'
+
+"There's two languages, Squire, that's univarsal: the
+language of love, and the language of money; the galls
+onderstand the one, and the men onderstand the other,
+all the wide world over, from Canton to Niagara. I no
+sooner showed him the half dollar, than it walked into
+his pocket, a plaguy sight quicker than it will walk out,
+I guess.
+
+"Sais I, 'Friend, you've taken the consait out of me
+properly. Captain Hall said there warn't a man, woman,
+or child, in the whole of the thirteen united univarsal
+worlds of our great Republic, that could speak pure
+English, and I was a goin' to kick him for it; but he is
+right, arter all. There ain't one livin' soul on us can;
+I don't believe they ever as much as heerd it, for I
+never did, till this blessed day, and there are few things
+I haven't either see'd, or heern tell of. Yes, we can't
+speak English, do you take?' 'Dim comrag,' sais he, which
+in Yankee, means, "that's no English," and he stood,
+looked puzzled, and scratched his head, rael hansum, 'Dim
+comrag,' sais he.
+
+"Well, it made me larf spiteful. I felt kinder wicked,
+and as _I_ had a hat on, and I couldn't scratch my head,
+I stood jist like him, clown fashion, with my eyes
+wanderin' and my mouth wide open, and put my hand behind
+me, and scratched there; and I stared, and looked puzzled
+too, and made the same identical vacant face he did, and
+repeated arter him slowly, with another scratch, mocking
+him like, 'Dim comrag.'
+
+"Such a pair o' fools you never saw, Squire, since the
+last time you shaved afore a lookin' glass; and the stable
+boys larfed, and he larfed, and I larfed, and it was the
+only larf I had all that juicy day.
+
+"Well, I turns agin to the door; but it's the old story
+over again--rain, rain, rain; spatter, spatter, spatter,--'I
+can't stop here with these true Brittons,' sais I, 'guess
+I'll go and see the old Squire: he is in his study.'
+
+"So I goes there: 'Squire,' sais I, 'let me offer you a
+rael gene_wine_ Havana cigar; I can recommend it to you.'
+He thanks me, he don't smoke, but plague take him, he
+don't say, 'If you are fond of smokin', pray smoke
+yourself.' And he is writing I won't interrupt him.
+
+"'Waiter, order me a post-chaise, to be here in the
+mornin', when the rooks wake.'
+
+"'Yes, Sir.'
+
+"Come, I'll try the women folk in the drawin'-room, agin'.
+Ladies don't mind the rain here; they are used to it.
+It's like the musk plant, arter you put it to your nose
+once, you can't smell it a second time. Oh what beautiful
+galls they be! What a shame it is to bar a feller out
+such a day as this. One on 'em blushes like a red cabbage,
+when she speaks to me, that's the one, I reckon, I
+disturbed this mornin'. Cuss the rooks! I'll pyson them,
+and that won't make no noise.
+
+"She shows me the consarvitery. 'Take care, Sir, your
+coat has caught this geranium,' and she onhitches it.
+'Stop, Sir, you'll break this jilly flower,' and she
+lifts off the coat tail agin; in fact, it's so crowded,
+you can't squeeze along, scarcely, without a doin' of
+mischief somewhere or another.
+
+"Next time, she goes first, and then it's my turn, 'Stop,
+Miss,' sais I, 'your frock has this rose tree over,' and
+I loosens it; once more, 'Miss, this rose has got tangled,'
+and I ontangles it from her furbeloes.
+
+"I wonder what makes my hand shake so, and my heart it
+bumps so, it has bust a button off. If I stay in this
+consarvitery, I shan't consarve myself long, that's a
+fact, for this gall has put her whole team on, and is a
+runnin' me off the road. 'Hullo! what's that? Bell for
+dressin' for dinner.' Thank Heavens! I shall escape from
+myself, and from this beautiful critter, too, for I'm
+gettin' spoony, and shall talk silly presently.
+
+"I don't like to be left alone with a gall, it's plaguy
+apt to set me a soft sawderin' and a courtin'. There's
+a sort of nateral attraction like in this world. Two
+ships in a calm, are sure to get up alongside of each
+other, if there is no wind, and they have nothin' to do,
+but look at each other; natur' does it. "Well, even, the
+tongs and the shovel, won't stand alone long; they're
+sure to get on the same side of the fire, and be sociable;
+one on 'em has a loadstone and draws 'tother, that's
+sartain. If that's the case with hard-hearted things,
+like oak and iron, what is it with tender hearted things
+like humans? Shut me up in a 'sarvatory with a hansum
+gall of a rainy day, and see if I don't think she is the
+sweetest flower in it. Yes, I am glad it is the dinner-bell,
+for I ain't ready to marry yet, and when I am, I guess
+I must get a gall where I got my hoss, in Old Connecticut,
+and that state takes the shine off of all creation for
+geese, galls and onions, that's a fact.
+
+"Well dinner won't wait, so I ups agin once more near
+the rooks, to brush up a bit; but there it is agin the
+same old tune, the whole blessed day, rain, rain, rain.
+It's rained all day and don't talk of stoppin' nother.
+How I hate the sound, and how streaked I feel. I don't
+mind its huskin' my voice, for there is no one to talk
+to, but cuss it, it has softened my bones.
+
+"Dinner is ready; the rain has damped every body's spirits,
+and squenched 'em out; even champaign won't raise 'em
+agin; feedin' is heavy, talk is heavy, time is heavy,
+tea is heavy, and there ain't musick; the only thing
+that's light is a bed room candle--heavens and airth how
+glad I am this '_juicy day_' is over!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+TYING A NIGHT-CAP.
+
+In the preceding sketch I have given Mr. Slick's account
+of the English climate, and his opinion of the dulness
+of a country house, as nearly as possible in his own
+words. It struck me at the time that they were exaggerated
+views; but if the weather were unpropitious, and the
+company not well selected, I can easily conceive, that
+the impression on his mind would be as strong and as
+unfavourable, as he has described it to have been.
+
+The climate of England is healthy, and, as it admits of
+much out-door exercise, and is not subject to any very
+sudden variation, or violent extremes of heat and cold,
+it may be said to be good, though not agreeable; but its
+great humidity is very sensibly felt by Americans and
+other foreigners accustomed to a dry atmosphere and clear
+sky. That Mr. Slick should find a rainy day in the
+country dull, is not to be wondered at; it is probable
+it would be so any where, to a man who had so few resources,
+within himself, as the Attache. Much of course depends
+on the inmates; and the company at the Shropshire house,
+to which he alludes, do not appear to have been the best
+calculated to make the state of the weather a matter of
+indifference to him.
+
+I cannot say, but that I have at times suffered a depression
+of spirits from the frequent, and sometimes long continued
+rains of this country; but I do not know that, as an
+ardent admirer of scenery, I would desire less humidity,
+if it diminished, as I fear it would, the extraordinary
+verdure and great beauty of the English landscape. With
+respect to my own visits at country houses, I have
+generally been fortunate in the weather, and always in
+the company; but I can easily conceive, that a man situated
+as Mr. Slick appears to have been with respect to both,
+would find the combination intolerably dull. But to return
+to my narrative.
+
+Early on the following day we accompanied our luggage to
+the wharf, where a small steamer lay to convey us to the
+usual anchorage ground of the packets, in the bay. We
+were attended by a large concourse of people. The piety,
+learning, unaffected simplicity, and kind disposition of
+my excellent friend, Mr. Hopewell, were well known and
+fully appreciated by the people of New York, who were
+anxious to testify their respect for his virtues, and
+their sympathy for his unmerited persecution, by a personal
+escort and a cordial farewell.
+
+"Are all those people going with us, Sam?" said he; "how
+pleasant it will be to have so many old friends on board,
+won't it?"
+
+"No, Sir," said the Attache, "they are only a goin' to
+see you on board--it is a mark of respect to you. They
+will go down to the "Tyler," to take their last farewell
+of you."
+
+"Well, that's kind now, ain't it?" he replied. "I suppose
+they thought I would feel kinder dull and melancholy
+like, on leaving my native land this way; and I must say
+I don't feel jist altogether right neither. Ever so many
+things rise right up in my mind, not one arter another,
+but all together like, so that I can't take 'em one by
+one and reason 'em down, but they jist overpower me by
+numbers. You understand me, Sam, don't you?"
+
+"Poor old critter!" said Mr. Slick to me in an under-tone,
+"it's no wonder he is sad, is it? I must try to cheer
+him up, if I can. Understand you, minister!" said he,
+"to be sure I do. I have been that way often and often.
+That was the case when I was to Lowel factories, with
+the galls a taking of them off in the paintin' line. The
+dear little critters kept up such an everlastin' almighty
+clatter, clatter, clatter; jabber, jabber, jabber, all
+talkin' and chatterin' at once, you couldn't hear no
+blessed one of them; and they jist fairly stunned a
+feller. For nothin' in natur', unless it be perpetual
+motion, can equal a woman's tongue. It's most a pity we
+hadn't some of the angeliferous little dears with us too,
+for they do make the time pass quick, that's a fact. I
+want some on 'em to tie a night-cap for me to-night; I
+don't commonly wear one, but I somehow kinder guess, I
+intend to have one this time, and no mistake."
+
+"A night-cap, Sam!" said he; "why what on airth do you
+mean?"
+
+"Why, I'll tell you, minister," said he, "you recollect
+sister Sall, don't you."
+
+"Indeed, I do," said he, "and an excellent girl she is,
+a dutiful daughter, and a kind and affectionate sister.
+Yes, she is a good girl is Sally, a very good girl indeed;
+but what of her?"
+
+"Well, she was a most a beautiful critter, to brew a
+glass of whiskey toddy, as I ever see'd in all my travels
+was sister Sall, and I used to call that tipple, when I
+took it late, a night-cap; apple jack and white nose
+ain't the smallest part of a circumstance to it. On such
+an occasion as this, minister, when a body is leavin'
+the greatest nation atween the poles, to go among benighted,
+ignorant, insolent foreigners, you wouldn't object to a
+night-cap, now would you?"
+
+"Well, I don't know as I would, Sam," said he; "parting
+from friends whether temporally or for ever, is a sad
+thing, and the former is typical of the latter. No, I do
+not know as I would. We may use these things, but not
+abuse them. Be temperate, be moderate, but it is a sorry
+heart that knows no pleasure. Take your night-cap, Sam,
+and then commend yourself to His safe keeping, who rules
+the wind and the waves to Him who--"
+
+"Well then, minister, what a dreadful awful looking thing
+a night-cap is without a tassel, ain't it? Oh! you must
+put a tassel on it, and that is another glass. Well
+then, what is the use of a night-cap, if it has a tassel
+on it, but has no string, it will slip off your head the
+very first turn you take; and that is another glass you
+know. But one string won't tie a cap; one hand can't
+shake hands along with itself: you must have two strings
+to it, and that brings one glass more. Well then, what
+is the use of two strings if they ain't fastened? If you
+want to keep the cap on, it must be tied, that's sartain,
+and that is another go; and then, minister, what an
+everlastin' miserable stingy, ongenteel critter a feller
+must be, that won't drink to the health of the Female
+Brewer. Well, that's another glass to sweethearts and
+wives, and then turn in for sleep, and that's what I
+intend to do to-night. I guess I'll tie the night-cap
+this hitch, if I never do agin, and that's a fact."
+
+"Oh Sam, Sam," said Mr. Hopewell, "for a man that is wide
+awake and duly sober, I never saw one yet that talked
+such nonsense as you do. You said, you understood me,
+but you don't, one mite or morsel; but men are made
+differently, some people's narves operate on the brain
+sens_itively_ and give them exquisite pain or excessive
+pleasure; other folks seem as if they had no narves at
+all. You understand my words, but you don't enter into
+my feelings. Distressing images rise up in my mind in
+such rapid succession, I can't master them, but they
+master me. They come slower to you, and the moment you
+see their shadows before you, you turn round to the light,
+and throw these dark figures behind you. I can't do that;
+I could when I was younger, but I can't now. Reason is
+comparing two ideas, and drawing an inference. Insanity
+is, when you have such a rapid succession of ideas, that
+you can't compare them. How great then must be the pain
+when you are almost pressed into insanity and yet retain
+your reason? What is a broken heart? Is it death? I think
+it must be very like it, if it is not a figure of speech,
+for I feel that my heart is broken, and yet I am as
+sensitive to pain as ever. Nature cannot stand this
+suffering long. You say these good people have come to
+take their last farewell of me; most likely, Sam, it _is_
+a last farewell. I am an old man now, I am well stricken
+in years; shall I ever live to see my native land again?
+I know not, the Lord's will be done! If I had a wish, I
+should desire to return to be laid with my kindred, to
+repose in death with those that were the companions of
+my earthly pilgrimage; but if it be ordered otherwise.
+I am ready to say with truth and meekness, 'Lord, now
+lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.'"
+
+When this excellent old man said that, Mr. Slick did not
+enter into his feelings--he did not do him justice. His
+attachment to and veneration for his aged pastor and
+friend were quite filial, and such as to do honour to
+his head and heart. Those persons who have made character
+a study, will all agree, that the cold exterior of the
+New England man arises from other causes than a coldness
+of feeling; much of the rhodomontade of the attache,
+addressed to Mr. Hopewell, was uttered for the kind
+purpose of withdrawing his attention from those griefs
+which preyed so heavily upon his spirits.
+
+"Minister," said Mr. Slick, "come, cheer up, it makes me
+kinder dismal to hear you talk so. When Captain McKenzie
+hanged up them three free and enlightened citizens of
+ours on board of the--Somers--he gave 'em three cheers.
+We are worth half a dozen dead men yet, so cheer up. Talk
+to these friends of ourn, they might think you considerable
+starch if you don't talk, and talk is cheap, it don't
+cost nothin' but breath, a scrape of your hind leg, and
+a jupe of the head, that's a fact."
+
+Having thus engaged him in conversation with his friends,
+we proceeded on board the steamer, which, in a short
+time, was alongside of the great "Liner." The day was
+now spent, and Mr. Hopewell having taken leave of his
+escort, retired to his cabin, very much overpowered by
+his feelings.
+
+Mr. Slick insisted on his companions taking a parting
+glass with him, and I was much amused with the advice
+given him by some of his young friends and admirers. He
+was cautioned to sustain the high character of the nation
+abroad; to take care that he returned as he went--a true
+American; to insist upon the possession of the Oregon
+Territory; to demand and enforce his right position in
+society; to negotiate the national loan; and above all
+never to accede to the right of search of slave-vessels;
+all which having been duly promised, they took an
+affectionate leave of each other, and we remained on
+board, intending to depart in the course of the following
+morning.
+
+As soon as they had gone, Mr. Slick ordered materials
+for brewing, namely: whisky, hot water, sugar and lemon;
+and having duly prepared in regular succession the cap,
+the tassel, and the two strings, filled his tumbler again,
+and said,
+
+"Come now, Squire, before we turn in, let us _tie the
+night-cap_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+HOME AND THE SEA.
+
+At eleven o'clock the next day the Tyler having shaken
+out her pinions, and spread them to the breeze, commenced
+at a rapid rate her long and solitary voyage across the
+Atlantic. Object after object rose in rapid succession
+into distinct view, was approached and passed, until
+leaving the calm and sheltered waters of the bay, we
+emerged into the ocean, and involuntarily turned to look
+back upon the land we had left. Long after the lesser
+hills and low country had disappeared, a few ambitious
+peaks of the highlands still met the eye, appearing as
+if they had advanced to the very edge of the water, to
+prolong the view of us till the last moment.
+
+This coast is a portion of my native continent, for though
+not a subject of the Republic, I am still an American in
+its larger sense, having been born in a British province
+in this hemisphere. I therefore sympathised with the
+feelings of my two companions, whose straining eyes were
+still fixed on those dim and distant specks in the horizon.
+
+"There," said Mr. Slick, rising from his seat, "I believe
+we have seen the last of home till next time; and this
+I will say, it is the most glorious country onder the
+sun; travel where you will, you won't ditto it no where.
+It is the toploftiest place in all creation, ain't it,
+minister?"
+
+There was no response to all this bombast. It was evident
+he had not been heard; and turning to Mr. Hopewell, I
+observed his eyes were fixed intently on the distance,
+and his mind pre-occupied by painful reflexions, for
+tears were coursing after each other down his furrowed
+but placid cheek.
+
+"Squire," said Mr. Slick to me, "this won't do. We must
+not allow him to dwell too long on the thoughts of leaving
+home, or he'll droop like any thing, and p'raps, hang
+his head and fade right away. He is aged and feeble,
+and every thing depends on keeping up his spirits. An
+old plant must be shaded, well watered, and tended, or
+you can't transplant it no how, you can fix it, that's
+a fact. He won't give ear to me now, for he knows I can't
+talk serious, if I was to try; but he will listen to
+_you_. Try to cheer him up, and I will go down below and
+give you a chance."
+
+As soon as I addressed him, he started and said, "Oh! is
+it you, Squire? come and sit down by me, my friend. I
+can talk to _you_, and I assure you I take great pleasure
+in doing so I cannot always talk to Sam: he is excited
+now; he is anticipating great pleasure from his visit to
+England, and is quite boisterous in the exuberance of
+his spirits. I own I am depressed at times; it is natural
+I should be, but I shall endeavour not to be the cause
+of sadness in others. I not only like cheerfulness myself,
+but I like to promote it; it is a sign of an innocent
+mind, and a heart in peace with God and in charity with
+man. All nature is cheerful, its voice is harmonious,
+and its countenance smiling; the very garb in which it
+is clothed is gay; why then should man be an exception
+to every thing around him? Sour sectarians, who address
+our fears, rather than our affections, may say what they
+please, Sir, but mirth is not inconsistent with religion,
+but rather an evidence that our religion is right. If I
+appear dull, therefore, do not suppose it is because I
+think it necessary to be so, but because certain reflections
+are natural to me as a clergyman, as a man far advanced
+in years, and as a pilgrim who leaves his home at a period
+of life, when the probabilities are, he may not be spared
+to revisit it.
+
+"I am like yourself, a colonist by birth. At the revolution
+I took no part in the struggle; my profession and my
+habits both exempted me. Whether the separation was
+justifiable or not, either on civil or religious principles,
+it is not now necessary to discuss. It took place, however,
+and the colonies became a nation, and after due
+consideration, I concluded to dwell among mine own people.
+There I have continued, with the exception of one or two
+short journeys for the benefit of my health, to the
+present period. Parting with those whom I have known so
+long and loved so well, is doubtless a trial to one whose
+heart is still warm, while his nerves are weak, and whose
+affections are greater than his firmness. But I weary
+you with this egotism?"
+
+"Not at all," I replied, "I am both instructed and
+delighted by your conversation. Pray proceed, Sir."
+
+"Well it is kind, very kind of you," said he, "to say
+so. I will explain these sensations to you, and then
+endeavour never to allude to them again. America is my
+birth-place and my home. Home has two significations, a
+restricted one and an enlarged one; in its restricted
+sense, it is the place of our abode, it includes our
+social circle, our parents, children, and friends, and
+contains the living and the dead; the past and the present
+generations of our race. By a very natural process, the
+scene of our affections soon becomes identified with
+them, and a portion of our regard is transferred from
+animate to inanimate objects. The streams on which we
+sported, the mountains on which we clambered, the fields
+in which we wandered, the school where we were instructed,
+the church where we worshipped, the very bell whose
+pensive melancholy music recalled our wandering steps in
+youth, awaken in after-years many a tender thought, many
+a pleasing recollection, and appeal to the heart with
+the force and eloquence of love. The country again contains
+all these things, the sphere is widened, new objects are
+included, and this extension of the circle is love of
+country. It is thus that the nation is said in an enlarged
+sense, to be our home also.
+
+"This love of country is both natural and laudable: so
+natural, that to exclude a man from his country, is the
+greatest punishment that country can inflict upon him;
+and so laudable, that when it becomes a principle of
+action, it forms the hero and the patriot. How impressive,
+how beautiful, how dignified was the answer of the
+Shunamite woman to Elisha, who in his gratitude to her
+for her hospitality and kindness, made her a tender of
+his interest at court. 'Wouldst thou,' said he, 'be spoken
+for to the king, or to the captain of the host?'--What
+an offer was that, to gratify her ambition or flatter
+her pride!--'I dwell,' said she, 'among mine own people.'
+What a characteristic answer! all history furnishes no
+parallel to it.
+
+"I too dwell 'among my own people:' my affections are
+there, and there also is the sphere of my duties; and if
+I am depressed by the thoughts of parting from 'my people,'
+I will do you the justice to believe, that you would
+rather bear with its effects, than witness the absence
+of such natural affection.
+
+"But this is not the sole cause: independently of some
+afflictions of a clerical nature in my late parish, to
+which it is not necessary to allude, the contemplation
+of this vast and fathomless ocean, both from its novelty
+and its grandeur, overwhelms me. At home I am fond of
+tracing the Creator in his works. From the erratic comet
+in the firmament, to the flower that blossoms in the
+field; in all animate, and inanimate matter; in all that
+is animal, vegetable or mineral, I see His infinite
+wisdom, almighty power, and everlasting glory.
+
+"But that Home is inland; I have not beheld the sea now
+for many years. I never saw it without emotion; I now
+view it with awe. What an emblem of eternity!--Its dominion
+is alone reserved to Him, who made it. Changing yet
+changeless--ever varying, yet always the same. How weak
+and powerless is man! how short his span of life, when
+he is viewed in connexion with the sea! He has left no
+trace upon it--it will not receive the impress of his
+hands; it obeys no laws, but those imposed upon it by
+Him, who called it into existence; generation after
+generation has looked upon it as we now do--and where
+are they? Like yonder waves that press upon each other
+in regular succession, they have passed away for ever;
+and their nation, their language, their temples and their
+tombs have perished with them. But there is the Undying
+one. When man was formed, the voice of the ocean was
+heard, as it now is, speaking of its mysteries, and
+proclaiming His glory, who alone lifteth its waves or
+stilleth the rage thereof.
+
+"And yet, my dear friend, for so you must allow me to
+call you, awful as these considerations are, which it
+suggests, who are they that go down to the sea in ships
+and occupy their business in great waters? The sordid
+trader, and the armed and mercenary sailor: gold or blood
+is their object, and the fear of God is not always in
+them. Yet the sea shall give up its dead, as well as the
+grave; and all shall--
+
+"But it is not my intention to preach to you. To intrude
+serious topics upon our friends at all times, has a
+tendency to make both ourselves and our topics distasteful.
+I mention these things to you, not that they are not
+obvious to you and every other right-minded man, or that
+I think I can clothe them in more attractive language,
+or utter them with more effect than others; but merely
+to account for my absence of mind and evident air of
+abstraction. I know my days are numbered, and in the
+nature of things, that those that are left, cannot be
+many.
+
+"Pardon me, therefore, I pray you, my friend; make
+allowances for an old man, unaccustomed to leave home,
+and uncertain whether he shall ever be permitted to return
+to it. I feel deeply and sensibly your kindness in
+soliciting my company on this tour, and will endeavour
+so to regulate my feelings as not to make you regret your
+invitation. I shall not again recur to these topics, or
+trouble you with any further reflections 'on Home and
+the Sea.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+T'OTHER EEND OF THE GUN.
+
+"Squire," said Mr. Hopewell, one morning when we were
+alone on the quarter-deck, "sit down by me, if you please.
+I wish to have a little private conversation with you.
+I am a good deal concerned about Sam. I never liked this
+appointment he has received: neither his education, his
+habits, nor his manners have qualified him for it. He is
+fitted for a trader and for nothing else. He looks upon
+politics as he does upon his traffic in clocks, rather
+as profitable to himself than beneficial to others. Self
+is predominant with him. He overrates the importance of
+his office, as he will find when he arrives in London;
+but what is still worse, he overrates the importance of
+the opinions of others regarding the States.
+
+"He has been reading that foolish book of Cooper's
+'Gleanings in Europe,' and intends to shew fight, he
+says. He called my attention, yesterday, to this absurd
+passage, which he maintains is the most manly and sensible
+thing that Cooper ever wrote: 'This indifference to the
+feelings of others, is a dark spot on the national manners
+of England. The only way to put it down, is to become
+belligerent yourself, by introducing Pauperism, Radicalism,
+Ireland, the Indies, or some other sore point. Like all
+who make butts of others, they do not manifest the proper
+forbearance when the tables are turned. Of this, I have
+had abundance of proof in my own experience. Sometimes
+their remarks are absolutely rude, and personally offensive,
+as a disregard of one's national character, is a disrespect
+to his principles; but as personal quarrels on such
+grounds are to be avoided, I have uniformly retorted in
+kind, if there was the smallest opening for such
+retaliation."
+
+"Now, every gentleman in the States repudiates such
+sentiments as these. My object in mentioning the subject
+to you, is to request the favour of you, to persuade Sam
+not to be too sensitive on these topics; not to take
+offence, where it is not intended; and, above all, rather
+to vindicate his nationality by his conduct, than to
+justify those aspersions, by his intemperate behaviour.
+But here he comes; I shall withdraw and leave you together."
+
+Fortunately, Mr. Slick commenced talking upon a topic,
+which naturally led to that to which Mr. Hopewell had
+wished me to direct his attention.
+
+"Well, Squire," said he, "I am glad too, you are a goin'
+to England along with me: we will take a rise out of John
+Bull, won't we?--We've hit Blue-nose and Brother Jonathan
+both pretty considerable tarnation hard, and John has
+split his sides with larfter. Let's tickle him now, by
+feeling his own short ribs, and see how he will like it;
+we'll soon see whose hide is the thickest, hisn or ourn,
+won't we? Let's see whether he will say chee, chee, chee,
+when he gets to the t'other eend of the gun."
+
+"What is the meaning of that saying?" I asked. "I never
+heard it before."
+
+"Why," said he, "when I was a considerable of a grown up
+saplin of a boy to Slickville, I used to be a gunnin'
+for everlastinly amost in our hickory woods, a shootin'
+of squirrels with a rifle, and I got amazin' expart at
+it. I could take the head off of them chatterin' little
+imps, when I got a fair shot at 'em with a ball, at any
+reasonable distance, a'most in nine cases out of ten.
+
+"Well, one day I was out as usual, and our Irish help
+Paddy Burke was along with me, and every time he see'd
+me a drawin' of the bead fine on 'em, he used to say,
+'Well, you've an excellent gun entirely, Master Sam. Oh
+by Jakers! the squirrel has no chance with that gun,
+it's an excellent one entirely.'
+
+"At last I got tired a hearin' of him a jawin' so for
+ever and a day about the excellent gun entirely; so, sais
+I, 'You fool you, do you think it's the gun that does it
+_entirely_ as you say; ain't there a little dust of skill
+in it? Do you think you could fetch one down?'
+
+"'Oh, it's a capital gun entirely,' said he.
+
+"'Well,' said I, 'if it 'tis, try it now, and see what
+sort of a fist you'll make of it.'
+
+"So Paddy takes the rifle, lookin' as knowin' all the
+time as if he had ever seed one afore. Well, there was
+a great red squirrel, on the tip-top of a limb, chatterin'
+away like any thing, chee, chee, chee, proper frightened;
+he know'd it warn't me, that was a parsecutin' of him,
+and he expected he'd be hurt. They know'd me, did the
+little critters, when they seed me, and they know'd I
+never had hurt one on 'em, my balls never givin' 'em a
+chance to feel what was the matter of them; but Pat they
+didn't know, and they see'd he warn't the man to handle
+'old Bull-Dog.' I used to call my rifle Bull-Dog, cause
+she always bit afore she barked.
+
+"Pat threw one foot out astarn, like a skullin' oar, and
+then bent forrards like a hoop, and fetched the rifle
+slowly up to the line, and shot to the right eye. Chee,
+chee, chee, went the squirrel. He see'd it was wrong.
+'By the powers!' sais Pat, 'this is a left-handed boot,'
+and he brought the gun to the other shoulder, and then
+shot to his left eye. 'Fegs!' sais Pat, 'this gun was
+made for a squint eye, for I can't get a right strait
+sight of the critter, either side.' So I fixt it for him
+and told him which eye to sight by. 'An excellent gun
+entirely,' sais Pat, 'but it tante made like the rifles
+we have.'
+
+"Ain't they strange critters, them Irish, Squire? That
+feller never handled a rifle afore in all his born days;
+but unless it was to a priest, he wouldn't confess that
+much for the world. They are as bad as the English that
+way; they always pretend they know every thing.
+
+"'Come, Pat,' sais I, 'blaze away now.' Back goes the
+hind leg agin, up bends the back, and Bull-Dog rises
+slowly to his shoulder; and then he stared, and stared,
+until his arm shook like palsy. Chee, chee, chee, went
+the squirrel agin, louder than ever, as much as to say,
+'Why the plague don't you fire? I'm not a goin' to stand
+here all day, for you this way,' and then throwin' his
+tail over his back, he jumped on to the next branch.
+
+"'By the piper that played before Moses!' sais Pat, 'I'll
+stop your chee, chee, cheein' for you, you chatterin'
+spalpeen of a devil, you'. So he ups with the rifle agin,
+takes a fair aim at him, shuts both eyes, turns his head
+round, and fires; and "Bull-Dog," findin' he didn't know
+how to hold her tight to the shoulder, got mad, and kicked
+him head over heels, on the broad of his back. Pat got
+up, a makin' awful wry faces, and began to limp, to show
+how lame his shoulder was, and to rub his arm, to see if
+he had one left, and the squirrel ran about the tree
+hoppin' mad, hollerin' out as loud as it could scream,
+chee, chee, chee.
+
+"'Oh bad luck to you,' sais Pat, 'if you had a been at
+t'other eend of the gun,' and he rubbed his shoulder
+agin, and cried like a baby, 'you wouldn't have said
+chee, chee, chee, that way, I know.'
+
+"Now when your gun, Squire, was a knockin' over Blue-nose,
+and makin' a proper fool of him, and a knockin' over
+Jonathan, and a spilin' of his bran-new clothes, the
+English sung out chee, chee, chee, till all was blue
+agin. You had an excellent gun entirely then: let's see
+if they will sing out chee, chee, chee, now, when we take
+a shot at _them_. Do you take?" and he laid his thumb on
+his nose, as if perfectly satisfied with the application
+of his story. "Do you take, Squire? you have an excellent
+gun entirely, as Pat says. It's what I call puttin' the
+leake into 'em properly. If you had a written this book
+fust, the English would have said your gun was no good;
+it wouldn't have been like the rifles they had seen.
+Lord, I could tell you stories about the English, that
+would make even them cryin' devils the Mississippi
+crocodiles laugh, if they was to hear 'em."
+
+"Pardon me, Mr. Slick," I said, "this is not the temper
+with which you should visit England."
+
+"What is the temper," he replied with much warmth, "that
+they visit us in? Cuss 'em! Look at Dickens; was there
+ever a man made so much of, except La Fayette? And who
+was Dickens? Not a Frenchman that is a friend to us, not
+a native that has a claim on us; not a colonist, who,
+though English by name is still an American by birth,
+six of one and half a dozen of t'other, and therefore a
+kind of half-breed brother. No! he was a cussed Britisher;
+and what is wus, a British author; and yet, because he
+was a man of genius, because genius has the 'tarnal globe
+for its theme, and the world for its home, and mankind
+for its readers, and bean't a citizen of this state or
+that state, but a native of the univarse, why we welcomed
+him, and feasted him, and leveed him, and escorted him,
+and cheered him, and honoured him, did he honour us? What
+did he say of us when he returned? Read his book.
+
+"No, don't read his book, for it tante worth readin'.
+Has he said one word of all that reception in his book?
+that book that will be read, translated, and read agin
+all over Europe--has he said one word of that reception?
+Answer me that, will you? Darned the word, his memory
+was bad; he lost it over the tafrail when he was sea-sick.
+But his notebook was safe under lock and key, and the
+pigs in New York, and the chap the rats eat in jail, and
+the rough man from Kentucky, and the entire raft of galls
+emprisoned in one night, and the spittin' boxes and all
+that stuff, warn't trusted to memory, it was noted down,
+and printed.
+
+"But it tante no matter. Let any man give me any sarce
+in England, about my country, or not give me the right
+_po_-sition in society, as Attache to our Legation, and,
+as Cooper says, I'll become belligerent, too, I will, I
+snore. I can snuff a candle with a pistol as fast as
+you can light it; hang up an orange, and I'll first peel
+it with ball and then quarter it. Heavens! I'll let
+daylight dawn through some o' their jackets, I know.
+
+"Jube, you infarnal black scoundrel, you odoriferous
+nigger you, what's that you've got there?"
+
+"An apple, massa."
+
+"Take off your cap and put that apple on your head, then
+stand sideways by that port-hole, and hold steady, or
+you might stand a smart chance to have your wool carded,
+that's all."
+
+Then taking a pistol out of the side-pocket of his
+mackintosh, he deliberately walked over to the other side
+of the deck, and examined his priming.
+
+"Good heavens, Mr. Slick!" said I in great alarm, "what
+are you about?"
+
+"I am goin'," he said with the greatest coolness, but at
+the same time with equal sternness, "to bore a hole
+through that apple, Sir."
+
+"For shame! Sir," I said. "How can you think of such a
+thing? Suppose you were to miss your shot, and kill that
+unfortunate boy?"
+
+"I won't suppose no such thing, Sir. I can't miss it.
+I couldn't miss it if I was to try. Hold your head steady,
+Jube--and if I did, it's no great matter. The onsarcumcised
+Amalikite ain't worth over three hundred dollars at the
+furthest, that's a fact; and the way he'd pyson a shark
+ain't no matter. Are you ready, Jube?"
+
+"Yes, massa."
+
+"You shall do no such thing, Sir," I said, seizing his
+arm with both my hands. "If you attempt to shoot at that
+apple, I shall hold no further intercourse with you. You
+ought to be ashamed of yourself, Sir."
+
+"Ky! massa," said Jube, "let him fire, Sar; he no hurt
+Jube; he no foozle de hair. I isn't one mossel afeerd.
+He often do it, jist to keep him hand in, Sar. Massa
+most a grand shot, Sar. He take off de ear oh de squirrel
+so slick, he neber miss it, till he go scratchin' his
+head. Let him appel hab it, massa."
+
+"Oh, yes," said Mr. Slick, "he is a Christian is Jube,
+he is as good as a white Britisher: same flesh, only a
+leetle, jist a leetle darker; same blood, only not quite
+so old, ain't quite so much tarter on the bottle as a
+lord's has; oh him and a Britisher is all one brother--oh
+by all means--
+
+ Him fader's hope--him mudder's joy,
+ Him darlin little nigger boy.
+
+You'd better cry over him, hadn't you. Buss him, call
+him brother, hug him, give him the "Abolition" kiss,
+write an article on slavery, like Dickens; marry him to
+a white gall to England, get him a saint's darter with
+a good fortin, and well soon see whether her father was
+a talkin' cant or no, about niggers. Cuss 'em, let any
+o' these Britishers give me slack, and I'll give 'em
+cranberry for their goose, I know. I'd jump right down
+their throat with spurs on, and gallop their sarce out."
+
+"Mr. Slick I've done; I shall say no more; we part, and
+part for ever. I had no idea whatever, that a man, whose
+whole conduct has evinced a kind heart, and cheerful
+disposition, could have entertained such a revengeful
+spirit, or given utterance to such unchristian and
+uncharitable language, as you have used to-day. We part"--
+
+"No, we don't," said he; "don't kick afore you are spurred.
+I guess I have feelins as well as other folks have, that's
+a fact; one can't help being ryled to hear foreigners
+talk this way; and these critters are enough to make a
+man spotty on the back. I won't deny I've got some grit,
+but I ain't ugly. Pat me on the back and I soon cool
+down, drop in a soft word and I won't bile over; but
+don't talk big, don't threaten, or I curl directly."
+
+"Mr. Slick," said I, "neither my countrymen, the Nova
+Scotians, nor your friends, the Americans, took any thing
+amiss, in our previous remarks, because, though satirical,
+they were good natured. There was nothing malicious in
+them. They were not made for the mere purpose of shewing
+them up, but were incidental to the topic we were
+discussing, and their whole tenor shewed that while "we
+were alive to the ludicrous, we fully appreciated, and
+properly valued their many excellent and sterling qualities.
+My countrymen, for whose good I published them, had the
+most reason to complain, for I took the liberty to apply
+ridicule to them with no sparing hand. They understood
+the motive, and joined in the laugh, which was raised at
+their expense. Let us treat the English in the same style;
+let us keep our temper. John Bull is a good-natured
+fellow, and has no objection to a joke, provided it is
+not made the vehicle of conveying an insult. Don't adopt
+Cooper's maxims; nobody approves of them, on either side
+of the water; don't be too thin-skinned. If the English
+have been amused by the sketches their tourists have
+drawn of, the Yankees, perhaps the Americans may laugh
+over our sketches of the English. Let us make both of
+them smile, if we can, and endeavour to offend neither.
+If Dickens omitted to mention the festivals that were
+given in honour of his arrival in the States, he was
+doubtless actuated by a desire to avoid the appearance
+of personal vanity. A man cannot well make himself the
+hero of his own book."
+
+"Well, well," said he, "I believe the black ox did tread
+on my toe that time. I don't know but what you're right.
+Soft words are good enough in their way, but still they
+butter no parsnips, as the sayin' is. John may be a
+good-natured critter, tho' I never see'd any of it yet;
+and he may be fond of a joke, and p'raps is, seein' that
+he haw-haws considerable loud at his own. Let's try him
+at all events. We'll soon see how he likes other folks'
+jokes; I have my scruple about him, I must say. I am
+dubersome whether he will say 'chee, chee, chee' when he
+gets 'T'other eend of the gun.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+SMALL POTATOES AND FEW IN A HILL.
+
+"Pray Sir," said one of my fellow passengers, "can you
+tell me why the Nova Scotians are called 'Blue-noses?'"
+
+"It is the name of a potatoe," said I, "which they produce
+in great perfection, and boast to be the best in the
+world. The Americans have, in consequence, given them
+the nick-name of "Blue-noses.'"
+
+"And now," said Mr. Slick," as you have told the entire
+stranger, _who_ a Blue-nose is, I'll jist up and tell
+him _what_ he is.
+
+"One day, Stranger, I was a joggin' along into Windsor
+on Old Clay, on a sort of butter and eggs' gait (for a
+fast walk on a journey tires a horse considerable), and
+who should I see a settin' straddle legs "on the fence,
+but Squire Gabriel Soogit, with his coat off, a holdin'
+of a hoe in one hand, and his hat in t'other, and a
+blowin' like a porpus proper tired.
+
+"'Why, Squire Gabe,' sais I, 'what is the matter of you?
+you look as if you couldn't help yourself; who is dead
+and what is to pay now, eh?'
+
+"'Fairly beat out,' said he, 'I am shockin' tired. I've
+been hard at work all the mornin'; a body has to stir
+about considerable smart in this country, to make a
+livin', I tell you.'
+
+"I looked over the fence, and I seed he had hoed jist
+ten hills of potatoes, and that's all. Fact I assure you.
+
+"Sais he, 'Mr. Slick, tell you what, _of all the work I
+ever did in my life I like hoein' potatoes the best, and
+I'd rather die than do that, it makes my back ache so_."
+
+"'Good airth" and seas,' sais I to myself, 'what a parfect
+pictur of a lazy man that is! How far is it to Windsor?'
+
+"'Three miles,' sais he. I took out my pocket-book
+purtendin' to write down the distance, but I booked his
+sayin' in my way-bill.
+
+"Yes, _that_ is a _Blue-nose_; is it any wonder, Stranger,
+he _is small potatoes and few in a hill_?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+A GENTLEMAN AT LARGE.
+
+It is not my intention to record any of the ordinary
+incidents of a sea voyage: the subject is too hackneyed
+and too trite; and besides, when the topic is seasickness,
+it is infectious and the description nauseates. _Hominem
+pagina nostra sapit_. The proper study of mankind is man;
+human nature is what I delight in contemplating; I love
+to trace out and delineate the springs of human action.
+
+Mr. Slick and Mr. Hopewell are both studies. The former
+is a perfect master of certain chords; He has practised
+upon them, not for philosophical, but for mercenary
+purposes. He knows the depth, and strength, and tone of
+vanity, curiosity, pride, envy, avarice, superstition,
+nationality, and local and general prejudice. He has
+learned the effect of these, not because they contribute
+to make him wiser, but because they make him richer; not
+to enable him to regulate his conduct in life, but to
+promote and secure the increase of his trade.
+
+Mr. Hopewell, on the contrary, has studied the human
+heart as a philanthropist, as a man whose business it
+was to minister to it, to cultivate and improve it. His
+views are more sound and more comprehensive than those
+of the other's, and his objects are more noble. They are
+both extraordinary men.
+
+They differed, however, materially in their opinion of
+England and its institutions. Mr. Slick evidently viewed
+them with prejudice. Whether this arose from the
+supercilious manner of English tourists in America, or
+from the ridicule they have thrown upon Republican society,
+in the books of travels they have published, after their
+return to Europe, I could not discover; but it soon became
+manifest to me, that Great Britain did not stand so high
+in his estimation, as the colonies did.
+
+Mr. Hopewell, on the contrary, from early associations,
+cherished a feeling of regard and respect for England;
+and when his opinion was asked, he always gave it with
+great frankness and impartiality. When there was any
+thing he could not approve of, it appeared to be a subject
+of regret to him; whereas, the other seized upon it at
+once as a matter of great exultation. The first sight we
+had of land naturally called out their respective opinions.
+
+As we were pacing the deck speculating upon the probable
+termination of our voyage, Cape Clear was descried by
+the look-out on the mast-head.
+
+"Hallo! what's that? why if it ain't land ahead, as I'm
+alive!" said Mr. Slick. "Well, come this is pleasant
+too, we have made amost an everlastin' short voyage of
+it, hante we; and I must say I like land quite as well
+as sea, in a giniral way, arter all; but, Squire, here
+is the first Britisher. That critter that's a clawin' up
+the side of the vessel like a cat, is the pilot: now do
+for goodness gracious sake, jist look at him, and hear
+him."
+
+"What port?"
+
+"Liverpool."
+
+"Keep her up a point."
+
+"Do you hear that, Squire? that's English, or what we
+used to call to singing school short metre. The critter
+don't say a word, even as much as 'by your leave'; but
+jist goes and takes his post, and don't ask the name of
+the vessel, or pass the time o' day with the Captin. That
+ain't in the bill, it tante paid for that; if it was,
+he'd off cap, touch the deck three times with his forehead,
+and '_Slam_' like a Turk to his Honour the Skipper.
+
+"There's plenty of civility here to England if you pay
+for it: you can buy as much in five minits, as will make
+you sick for a week; but if you don't pay for it, you
+not only won't get it, but you get sarce instead of it,
+that is if you are fool enough to stand and have it rubbed
+in. They are as cold as Presbyterian charity, and mean
+enough to put the sun in eclipse, are the English. They
+hante set up the brazen image here to worship, but they've
+got a gold one, and that they do adore and no mistake;
+it's all pay, pay, pay; parquisite, parquisite, parquisite;
+extortion, extortion, extortion. There is a whole pack
+of yelpin' devils to your heels here, for everlastinly
+a cringin', fawnin' and coaxin', or snarlin', grumblin'
+or bullyin' you out of your money. There's the boatman,
+and tide-waiter, and porter, and custom-er, and truck
+man as soon as you land; and the sarvant-man, and
+chamber-gall, and boots, and porter again to the inn.
+And then on the road, there is trunk-lifter, and coachman,
+and guard, and beggar-man, and a critter that opens the
+coach door, that they calls a waterman, cause he is
+infarnal dirty, and never sees water. They are jist like
+a snarl o' snakes, their name is legion and there ain't
+no eend to 'em.
+
+"The only thing you get for nothin' here is rain and
+smoke, the rumatiz, and scorny airs. If you could buy an
+Englishman at what he was worth, and sell him at his own
+valiation, he would realise as much as a nigger, and
+would be worth tradin' in, that's a fact; but as it is
+he ain't worth nothin', there is no market for such
+critters, no one would buy him at no price. A Scotchman
+is wus, for he is prouder and meaner. Pat ain't no better
+nother; he ain't proud, cause he has a hole in his breeches
+and another in his elbow, and he thinks pride won't patch
+'em, and he ain't mean cause he hante got nothin' to be
+mean with. Whether it takes nine tailors to make a man,
+I can't jist exactly say, but this I will say, and take
+my davy of it too, that it would take three such goneys
+as these to make a pattern for one of our rael genu_wine_
+free and enlightened citizens, and then I wouldn't swap
+without large boot, I tell you. Guess I'll go, and pack
+up my fixing and have 'em ready to land."
+
+He now went below, leaving Mr. Hopewell and myself on
+the deck. All this tirade of Mr. Slick was uttered in
+the hearing of the pilot, and intended rather for his
+conciliation, than my instruction. The pilot was immoveable;
+he let the cause against his country go "by default,"
+and left us to our process of "inquiry;" but when Mr.
+Slick was in the act of descending to the cabin, be turned
+and gave him a look of admeasurement, very similar to
+that which a grazier gives an ox; a look which estimates
+the weight and value of the animal, and I am bound to
+admit, that the result of that "sizing or laying" as it
+is technically called, was by no means favourable to the
+Attache".
+
+Mr. Hopewell had evidently not attended to it; his eye
+was fixed on the bold and precipitous shore of Wales,
+and the lofty summits of the everlasting hills, that in
+the distance, aspired to a companionship with the clouds.
+I took my seat at a little distance from him and surveyed
+the scene with mingled feelings of curiosity and admiration,
+until a thick volume of sulphureous smoke from the copper
+furnaces of Anglesey intercepted our view.
+
+"Squire," said he, "it is impossible for us to contemplate
+this country, that now lies before us, without strong
+emotion. It is our fatherland. I recollect when I was a
+colonist, as you are, we were in the habit of applying
+to it, in common with Englishmen, that endearing appellation
+"Home," and I believe you still continue to do so in the
+provinces. Our nursery tales, taught our infant lips to
+lisp in English, and the ballads, that first exercised
+our memories, stored the mind with the traditions of our
+forefathers; their literature was our literature, their
+religion our religion, their history our history. The
+battle of Hastings, the murder of Becket, the signature
+of Runymede, the execution at Whitehall; the divines,
+the poets, the orators, the heroes, the martyrs, each
+and all were familiar to us.
+
+"In approaching this country now, after a lapse of many,
+many years, and approaching it too for the last time,
+for mine eyes shall see it no more, I cannot describe to
+you the feelings that agitate my heart. I go to visit
+the tombs of my ancestors; I go to my home, and my home
+knoweth me no more. Great and good, and brave and free
+are the English; and may God grant that they may ever
+continue so!"
+
+"I cordially join in that prayer, Sir," said I; "you have
+a country of your own. The old colonies having ripened
+into maturity, formed a distinct and separate family, in
+the great community of mankind. You are now a nation of
+yourselves, and your attachment to England, is of course
+subordinate to that of your own country; you view it as
+the place that was in days of yore the home of your
+forefathers; we regard it as the paternal estate, continuing
+to call it 'Home' as you have just now observed. We owe
+it a debt of gratitude that not only cannot be repaid,
+but is too great for expression. Their armies protect us
+within, and their fleets defend us, and our commerce
+without. Their government is not only paternal and
+indulgent, but is wholly gratuitous. We neither pay these
+forces, nor feed them, nor clothe them. We not only raise
+no taxes, but are not expected to do so. The blessings
+of true religion are diffused among us, by the pious
+liberality of England, and a collegiate establishment at
+Windsor, supported by British friends, has for years
+supplied the Church, the Bar and the Legislature with
+scholars and gentlemen. Where the national funds have
+failed, private contribution has volunteered its aid,
+and means are never wanting for any useful or beneficial
+object.
+
+"Our condition is a most enviable one. The history of
+the world has no example to offer of such noble
+disinterestedness and such liberal rule, as that exhibited
+by Great Britain to her colonies. If the policy of the
+Colonial Office is not always good (which I fear is too
+much to say) it is ever liberal; and if we do not mutually
+derive all the benefit we might from the connexion, _we_,
+at least, reap more solid advantages than we have a right
+to expect, and more, I am afraid, than our conduct always
+deserves. I hope the Secretary for the Colonies may have
+the advantage of making your acquaintance, Sir. Your
+experience is so great, you might give him a vast deal
+of useful information, which he could obtain from no one
+else.
+
+"Minister," said Mr. Slick, who had just mounted the
+companion-ladder, "will your honour," touching his hat,
+"jist look at your honour's plunder, and see it's all
+right; remember me, Sir; thank your honour. This way,
+Sir; let me help your honour down. Remember me again,
+Sir. Thank your honour. Now you may go and break your
+neck, your honour, as soon as you please; for I've got
+all out of you I can squeeze, that's a fact. That's
+English, Squire--that's English servility, which they
+call civility, and English meanness and beggin', which
+they call parquisite. Who was that you wanted to see the
+Minister, that I heerd you a talkin' of when I come on
+deck?"
+
+"The Secretary of the Colonies," I said.
+
+"Oh for goodness sake don't send that crittur to him,"
+said he, "or minister will have to pay him for his visit,
+more, p'raps, than he can afford. John Russell, that had
+the ribbons afore him, appointed a settler as a member
+of Legislative Council to Prince Edward's Island, a berth
+that has no pay, that takes a feller three months a year
+from home, and has a horrid sight to do; and what do you
+think he did? Now jist guess. You give it up, do you?
+Well, you might as well, for if you was five Yankees
+biled down to one, you wouldn't guess it. 'Remember
+Secretary's clerk,' says he, a touchin' of his hat, 'give
+him a little tip of thirty pound sterling, your honour.'
+Well, colonist had a drop of Yankee blood in him, which
+was about one third molasses, and, of course, one third
+more of a man than they commonly is, and so he jist ups
+and says, 'I'll see you and your clerk to Jericho beyond
+Jordan fust. The office ain't worth the fee. Take it and
+sell it to some one else that has more money nor wit.'
+He did, upon my soul."
+
+"No, don't send State-Secretary to Minister, send him to
+me at eleven o'clock to-night, for I shall be the
+toploftiest feller about that time you've seen this while
+past, I tell you. Stop till I touch land once more, that's
+all; the way I'll stretch my legs ain't no matter."
+
+He then uttered the negro ejaculation "chah!--chah!" and
+putting his arms a-kimbo, danced in a most extraordinary
+style to the music of a song, which he gave with great
+expression:
+
+ "Oh hab you nebber heerd ob de battle ob Orleens,
+ Where de dandy Yankee lads gave de Britishers de beans;
+ Oh de Louisiana boys dey did it pretty slick,
+ When dey cotch ole Packenham and rode him up a creek.
+ Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey,
+ Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey.
+
+"Oh yes, send Secretary to me at eleven or twelve to-night,
+I'll be in tune then, jist about up to concart pitch.
+I'll smoke with him, or drink with him, or swap stories
+with him, or wrastle with him, or make a fool of him, or
+lick him, or any thing he likes; and when I've done, I'll
+rise up, tweak the fore-top-knot of my head by the nose,
+bow pretty, and say 'Remember me, your honour? Don't
+forget the tip?' Lord, how I long to walk into some o'
+these chaps, and give 'em the beans! and I will yet afore
+I'm many days older, hang me if I don't. I shall bust,
+I do expect; and if I do, them that ain't drownded will
+be scalded, I know. Chah!--chah!
+
+ "Oh de British name is Bull, and de French name is Frog,
+ And noisy critters too, when a braggin' on a log,--
+ But I is an alligator, a floatin' down stream.
+ And I'll chaw both the bullies up, as I would an ice-cream:
+ Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dee,
+ Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dee.
+
+"Yes, I've been pent up in that drawer-like lookin' berth,
+till I've growed like a pine-tree with its branches off--
+straight up and down. My legs is like a pair of compasses
+that's got wet; they are rusty on the hinges, and won't
+work. I'll play leapfrog up the street, over every
+feller's head, till I get to the Liners' Hotel; I hope
+I may be shot if I don't. Jube, you villain, stand still
+there on the deck, and hold up stiff, you nigger. Warny
+once--warny twice--warny three times; now I come."
+
+And he ran forward, and putting a hand on each shoulder,
+jumped over him.
+
+"Turn round agin, you young sucking Satan, you; and don't
+give one mite or morsel, or you might 'break massa's
+precious neck,' p'raps. Warny once--warny twice--warny
+three times."
+
+And he repeated the feat again.
+
+"That's the way I'll shin it up street, with a hop, skip
+and a jump. Won't I make Old Bull stare, when he finds
+his head under my coat tails, and me jist makin' a lever
+of him? He'll think he has run foul of a snag, _I_ know.
+Lord, I'll shack right over their heads, as they do over
+a colonist; only when they do, they never say warny wunst,
+cuss 'em, they arn't civil enough for that. They arn't
+paid for it--there is no parquisite to be got by it.
+Won't I tuck in the Champaine to-night, that's all, till
+I get the steam up right, and make the paddles work?
+Won't I have a lark of the rael Kentuck breed? Won't I
+trip up a policeman's heels, thunder the knockers of the
+street doors, and ring the bells and leave no card? Won't
+I have a shy at a lamp, and then off hot foot to the
+hotel? Won't I say, 'Waiter, how dare you do that?'
+
+"'What, Sir?'
+
+"'Tread on my foot.'
+
+"'I didn't, Sir.'
+
+"'You did, Sir. Take that!' knock him down like wink,
+and help him up on his feet agin with a kick on his
+western eend. Kiss the barmaid, about the quickest and
+wickedest she ever heerd tell of, and then off to bed as
+sober as a judge. 'Chambermaid, bring a pan of coals and
+air my bed.' 'Yes, Sir.' Foller close at her heels, jist
+put a hand on each short rib, tickle her till she spills
+the red hot coals all over the floor, and begins to cry
+over 'em to put 'em out, whip the candle out of her hand,
+leave her to her lamentations, and then off to roost in
+no time. And when I get there, won't I strike out all
+abroad--take up the room of three men with their clothes
+on--lay all over and over the bed, and feel once more I
+am a free man and a '_Gentleman at large_.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+SEEING LIVERPOOL.
+
+On looking back to any given period of our life, we
+generally find that the intervening time appears much
+shorter than it really is. We see at once the starting-post
+and the terminus, and the mind takes in at one view the
+entire space.
+
+But this observation is more peculiarly applicable to a
+short passage across the Atlantic. Knowing how great the
+distance is, and accustomed to consider the voyage as
+the work of many weeks, we are so astonished at finding
+ourselves transported in a few days, from one continent
+to another, that we can hardly credit the evidence of
+our own senses.
+
+Who is there that on landing has not asked himself the
+question, "Is it possible that I am in England? It seems
+but as yesterday that I was in America, to-day I am in
+Europe. Is it a dream, or a reality?"
+
+The river and the docks--the country and the town--the
+people and their accent--the verdure and the climate are
+all new to me. I have not been prepared for this; I have
+not been led on imperceptibly, by travelling mile after
+mile by land from my own home, to accustom my senses to
+the gradual change of country. There has been no border
+to pass, where the language, the dress, the habits, and
+outward appearances assimilate. There has been no blending
+of colours--no dissolving views in the retrospect--no
+opening or expanding ones in prospect. I have no difficulty
+in ascertaining the point where one terminates and the
+other begins.
+
+The change is sudden and startling. The last time I
+slept on shore, was in America--to-night I sleep in
+England. The effect is magical--one country is withdrawn
+from view, and another is suddenly presented to my
+astonished gaze. I am bewildered; I rouse myself, and
+rubbing my eyes, again ask whether I am awake? Is this
+England? that great country, that world of itself; Old
+England, that place I was taught to call home _par
+excellence_, the home of other homes, whose flag, I called
+our flag? (no, I am wrong, I have been accustomed to call
+our flag, the flag of England; our church, not the Church
+of Nova Scotia, nor the Colonial nor the Episcopal, nor
+the Established, but the Church of England.) Is it then
+that England, whose language I speak, whose subject I
+am, the mistress of the world, the country of Kings and
+Queens, and nobles and prelates, and sages and heroes?
+
+I have read of it, so have I read of old Rome; but the
+sight of Rome, Caesar and the senate would not astonish
+me more than that of London, the Queen and the Parliament.
+Both are yet ideal; the imagination has sketched them,
+but when were its sketches ever true to nature? I have
+a veneration for both, but, gentle reader, excuse the
+confessions of an old man, for I have a soft spot in the
+heart yet, _I love Old England_. I love its institutions,
+its literature, its people. I love its law, because,
+while it protects property, it ensures liberty. I love
+its church, not only because I believe it is the true
+church, but because though armed with power, it is tolerant
+in practice. I love its constitution, because it combines
+the stability of a monarchy, with the most valuable
+peculiarities of a republic, and without violating nature
+by attempting to make men equal, wisely follow its
+dictates, by securing freedom to all.
+
+I like the people, though not all in the same degree.
+They are not what they were. Dissent, reform and agitation
+have altered their character. It is necessary to
+distinguish. A _real_ Englishman is generous, loyal and
+brave, manly in his conduct and gentlemanly in his feeling.
+When I meet such a man as this, I cannot but respect him;
+but when I find that in addition to these good qualities,
+he has the further recommendation of being a churchman
+in his religion and a tory in his politics, I know then
+that his heart is in the right place, and I love him.
+
+The drafts of these chapters were read to Mr. Slick, at
+his particular request, that he might be assured they
+contained nothing that would injure his election as
+President of the United States, in the event of the
+Slickville ticket becoming hereafter the favourite one.
+This, he said, was on the cards, strange as it might
+seem, for making a fool of John Bull and turning the
+laugh on him, would he sure to take and be popular. The
+last paragraphs, he said, he affectioned and approbated
+with all his heart.
+
+"It is rather tall talkin' that," said he; "I like its
+patronisin' tone. There is sunthin' goodish in a colonist
+patronisin' a Britisher. It's turnin' the tables on 'em;
+it's sarvin' 'em out in their own way. Lord, I think I
+see old Bull put his eye-glass up and look at you, with
+a dead aim, and hear him say, 'Come, this is cuttin' it
+rather fat.' Or, as the feller said to his second wife,
+when she tapped him on the shoulder, 'Marm, my first wife
+was a _Pursy_, and she never presumed to take that
+liberty.' Yes, that's good, Squire. Go it, my shirt-tails!
+you'll win if you get in fust, see if you don't.
+Patronizin' a Britisher!!! A critter that has Lucifer's
+pride, Arkwright's wealth, and Bedlam's sense, ain't it
+rich? Oh, wake snakes and walk your chalks, will you!
+Give me your figgery-four Squire, I'll go in up to the
+handle for you. Hit or miss, rough or tumble, claw or
+mud-scraper, any way, you damn please, I'm your man."
+
+But to return to my narrative. I was under the necessity
+of devoting the day next after our landing at Liverpool,
+to writing letters announcing my safe arrival to my
+anxious friends in Nova Scotia, and in different parts
+of England; and also some few on matters of business.
+Mr. Slick was very urgent in his request, that I should
+defer this work till the evening, and accompany him in
+a stroll about the town, and at last became quite peevish
+at my reiterated refusal.
+
+"You remind me, Squire," said he, "of Rufus Dodge, our
+great ile marchant of Boston, and as you won't walk,
+p'raps you'll talk, so I'll jist tell you the story.
+
+"I was once at the Cataract House to Niagara. It is jist
+a short distance above the Falls. Out of the winders,
+you have a view of the splendid white waters, or the
+rapids of foam, afore the river takes its everlastin'
+leap over the cliff.
+
+"Well, Rufus come all the way from Boston to see the
+Falls: he said he didn't care much about them hisself,
+seein' that he warn't in the mill business; but, as he
+was a goin' to England, he didn't like to say he hadn't
+been there, especially as all the English knowed about
+America was, that there was a great big waterfall called
+Niagara, an everlastin' Almighty big river called
+Mississippi, and a parfect pictur of a wappin' big man
+called Kentuckian there. Both t'other ones he'd seen over
+and over agin, but Niagara he'd never sot eyes on.
+
+"So as soon as he arrives, he goes into the public room,
+and looks at the white waters, and, sais he, 'Waiter,'
+sais he, 'is them the falls down there?' a-pintin' by
+accident in the direction where the Falls actilly was.
+
+"'Yes, Sir,' sais the waiter.
+
+"'Hem!' sais Rufe, 'them's the Falls of Niagara, eh! So
+I've seen the Falls at last, eh! Well it's pretty too:
+they ain't bad, that's a fact. So them's the Falls of
+Niagara! How long is it afore the stage starts?'
+
+"'An hour, Sir.'
+
+"'Go and book me for Boston, and then bring me a paper.'
+
+"'Yes, Sir.'
+
+"Well he got his paper and sot there a readin' of it,
+and every now and then, he'd look out of the winder and
+say: 'So them's the Falls of Niagara, eh? Well, it's a
+pretty little mill privilege that too, ain't it; but it
+ain't just altogether worth comin' so far to see. So I've
+seen the Falls at last!'
+
+"Arter a while in comes a Britisher.
+
+"'Waiter,' says he, 'how far is it to the Falls?'
+
+"'Little over a half a mile, Sir.'
+
+"'Which way do you get there?'
+
+"'Turn to the right, and then to the left, and then go
+a-head.'
+
+"Rufe heard all this, and it kinder seemed dark to him;
+so arter cypherin' it over in his head a bit, 'Waiter,'
+says he, 'ain't them the Falls of Niagara, I see there?'
+
+"'No, Sir.'
+
+"'Well, that's tarnation all over now. Not the Falls?'
+
+"'No, Sir.'
+
+"'Why, you don't mean to say, that them are ain't the
+Falls?'
+
+'"Yes, I do, Sir.'
+
+"'Heaven and airth! I've come hundreds of miles a puppus
+to see 'em, and nothin' else; not a bit of trade, or
+speckelation, or any airthly thing but to see them cussed
+Falls, and come as near as 100 cents to a dollar, startin'
+off without sein' 'em arter all. If it hadn't a been for
+that are Britisher I was sold, that's a fact. Can I run
+down there and back in half an hour in time for the
+stage?'
+
+"'Yes, Sir, but you will have no time to see them.'
+
+"'See 'em, cuss 'em, I don't want to see 'em, I tell you.
+I want to look at 'em, I want to say I was to the Falls,
+that's all. Give me my hat, quick! So them ain't the
+Falls! I ha'n't see'd the Falls of Niagara arter all.
+What a devil of a take-in that is, ain't it?' And he dove
+down stairs like a Newfoundland dog into a pond arter a
+stone, and out of sight in no time.
+
+"Now, you are as like Rufe, as two peas, Squire. You want
+to say, you was to Liverpool, but you don't want to see
+nothin'.'
+
+"Waiter."
+
+"Sir."
+
+"Is this Liverpool, I see out of the Winder?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Guess I have seen Liverpool then. So this is the great
+city of Liverpool, eh? When does the train start for
+London?"
+
+"In half an hour, Sir?"
+
+"Book me for London then, for I have been to Liverpool
+and seen the city. Oh, take your place, Squire, you have
+seen Liverpool; and if you see as much of all other
+places, as you have of this here one, afore you return
+home, you will know most as much of England as them do
+that never was there at all.
+
+"I am sorry too, you won't go, Squire," added he, "for
+minister seems kinder dull."
+
+"Don't say another word, Mr. Slick," said I; "every thing
+shall give way to him." And locking up my writing-desk
+I said: "I am ready."
+
+"Stop, Squire," said he, "I've got a favour to ask of
+you. Don't for gracious sake, say nothin' before Mr.
+Hopewell about that 'ere lark I had last night arter
+landin', it would sorter worry him, and set him off
+a-preachin', and I'd rather he'd strike me any time amost
+than lectur, for he does it so tender and kindly, it
+hurts my feelins _like_, a considerable sum. I've had a
+pretty how-do-ye-do about it this mornin', and have had
+to plank down handsum', and do the thing genteel; but
+Mister Landlord found, I reckon, he had no fool to deal
+with, nother. He comes to me, as soon as I was cleverly
+up this mornin', lookin' as full of importance, as Jube
+Japan did when I put the Legation button on him.
+
+"'Bad business this, Sir,' says he; 'never had such a
+scene in my house before, Sir; have had great difficulty
+to prevent my sarvants takin' the law of you.'
+
+"'Ah,' sais I to myself, 'I see how the cat jumps; here's
+a little tid bit of extortion now; but you won't find
+that no go, I don't think.'
+
+"'You will have to satisfy them, Sir,' says he, 'or take
+the consequences.'
+
+"'Sartainly,' said I, 'any thin' you please: I leave it
+entirely to you; jist name what you think proper, and I
+will liquidate it.'
+
+"'I said, I knew you would behave like a gentleman, Sir,'
+sais he, 'for, sais I, don't talk to me of law, name it
+to the gentleman, and he'll do what is right; he'll behave
+liberal, you may depend.'
+
+"'You said right,' sais I, 'and now, Sir, what's the
+damage?'
+
+"'Fifty pounds, I should think about the thing, Sir,'
+said he.
+
+"'Certainly,' said I, 'you shall have the fifty pounds,
+but you must give me a receipt in full for it.'
+
+"'By all means,' said he, and he was a cuttin' off full
+chisel to get a stamp, when I sais, 'Stop,' sais I,
+'uncle, mind and put in the receipt, the bill of items,
+and charge 'em separate?'
+
+"'Bill of items? sais he.
+
+"'Yes,' sais I, 'let me see what each is to get. Well,
+there's the waiter, now. Say to knockin' down the waiter
+and kicking him, so much; then there's the barmaid so
+much, and so on. I make no objection, I am willin' to
+pay all you ask, but I want to include all, for I intend
+to post a copy of it in the elegant cabins of each of
+our splendid New York Liners. This house convenes the
+Americans--they all know _me_. I want them to know how
+their _Attache_ was imposed on, and if any American ever
+sets foot in this cussed house agin I will pay his bill,
+and post that up too, as a letter of credit for him.'
+
+"'You wouldn't take that advantage of me, Sir?' said he.
+
+"'I take no advantage,' sais I. 'I'll pay you what you
+ask, but you shall never take advantage agin of another
+free and enlightened American citizen, I can tell you.'
+
+"'You must keep your money then, Sir,' said he, 'but this
+is not a fair deal; no gentleman would do it.'
+
+"'What's fair, I am willin' to do,' sais I; 'what's
+onfair, is what you want to do. Now, look here: I knocked
+the waiter down; here is two sovereigns for him; I won't
+pay him nothin' for the kickin', for that I give him out
+of contempt, for not defendin' of himself. Here's three
+sovereigns for the bar-maid; she don't ought to have
+nothin', for she never got so innocent a kiss afore, in
+all her born days I know, for I didn't mean no harm, and
+she never got so good a one afore nother, that's a fact;
+but then _I_ ought to pay, I do suppose, because I hadn't
+ought to treat a lady that way; it was onhansum', that's
+fact; and besides, it tante right to give the galls a
+taste for such things. They come fast enough in the
+nateral way, do kisses, without inokilatin' folks for
+'em. And here's a sovereign for the scoldin' and siscerarin'
+you gave the maid, that spilt the coals and that's an
+eend of the matter, and I don't want no receipt.'
+
+"Well, he bowed and walked off, without sayin' of a word."
+
+Here Mr. Hopewell joined us, and we descended to the
+street, to commence our perambulation of the city; but
+it had begun to rain, and we were compelled to defer it
+until the next day.
+
+"Well, it ain't much matter, Squire," said Mr. Slick:
+"ain't that Liverpool, I see out of the winder? Well,
+then I've been to Liverpool. Book me for London. So I
+have seen Liverpool at last, eh! or, as Rufus said, I
+have felt it too, for this wet day reminds me of the rest
+of his story.
+
+"In about a half hour arter Rufus raced off to the Falls,
+back he comes as hard as he could tear, a-puffing and a
+blowin' like a sizeable grampus. You never seed such a
+figure as he was, he was wet through and through, and
+the dry dust stickin' to his clothes, made him look like
+a dog, that had jumped into the water, and then took a
+roll in the road to dry hisself; he was a caution to look
+at, that's a fact.
+
+"'Well,' sais I, 'Stranger, did you see the Falls?'
+
+"'Yes,' sais he, 'I have see'd 'em and felt 'em too;
+them's very wet Falls, that's a fact. I hante a dry rag
+on me; if it hadn't a been for that ere Britisher, I
+wouldn't have see'd 'em at all, and yet a thought I had
+been there all the time. It's a pity too, that that winder
+don't bear on it, for then you could see it without the
+trouble of goin' there, or gettin' ducked, or gettin'
+skeered so. I got an awful fright there--I shall never
+forget it, if I live as long as Merusalem. You know I
+hadn't much time left, when. I found out I hadn't been
+there arter all, so I ran all the way, right down as hard
+as I could clip; and, seein' some folks comin' out from
+onder the Fall, I pushed strait in, but the noise actilly
+stunned me, and the spray wet me through and through like
+a piece of sponged cloth; and the great pourin', bilin'
+flood, blinded me so I couldn't see a bit; and I hadn't
+gone far in, afore a cold, wet, clammy, dead hand, felt
+my face all over. I believe in my soul, it was the Indian
+squaw that went over the Falls in the canoe, or the crazy
+Englisher, that tried to jump across it.
+
+"'Oh creation, how cold it was! The moment that spirit
+rose, mine fell, and I actilly thought I should have
+dropt lumpus, I was so skeered. Give me your hand, said
+Ghost, for I didn't see nothin' but a kinder dark shadow.
+Give me your hand. I think it must ha' been the squaw,
+for it begged for all the world, jist like an Indgian.
+I'd see you hanged fust, said I; I wouldn't touch that
+are dead tacky hand o' yourn' for half a million o' hard
+dollars, cash down without any ragged eends; and with
+that, I turned to run out, but Lord love you I couldn't
+run. The stones was all wet and slimy, and onnateral
+slippy, and I expected every minute, I should heels up
+and go for it: atween them two critters the Ghost and
+the juicy ledge, I felt awful skeered I tell _you_. So
+I begins to say my catechism; what's your name, sais I?
+Rufus Dodge. Who gave you that name? Godfather and
+godmother granny Eells. What did they promise for you?
+That I should renounce the devil and all his
+works--works--works--I couldn't get no farther, I stuck
+fast there, for I had forgot it.
+
+"'The moment I stopt, ghost kinder jumped forward, and
+seized me by my mustn't-mention'ems, and most pulled the
+seat out. Oh dear! my heart most went out along with it,
+for I thought my time had come. You black she-sinner of
+a heathen Indgian! sais I; let me go this blessed minite,
+for I renounce the devil and all his works, the devil
+and all his works--so there now; and I let go a kick
+behind, the wickedest you ever see, and took it right in
+the bread basket. Oh, it yelled and howled and screached
+like a wounded hyaena, till my ears fairly cracked agin.
+I renounce you, Satan, sais I; I renounce you, and the
+world, and the flesh and the devil. And now, sais I, a
+jumpin' on terry firm once more, and turnin' round and
+facin' the enemy, I'll promise a little dust more for
+myself, and that is to renounce Niagara, and Indgian
+squaws, and dead Britishers, and the whole seed, breed
+and generation of 'em from this time forth, for evermore.
+Amen.
+
+"'Oh blazes! how cold my face is yet. Waiter, half a
+pint of clear cocktail; somethin' to warm me. Oh, that
+cold hand! Did you ever touch a dead man's hand? it's
+awful cold, you may depend. Is there any marks on my
+face? do you see the tracks of the fingers there?'
+
+"'No, Sir,' sais I,' I can't say I do.'
+
+"'Well, then I feel them there,' sais he, 'as plain as
+any thing.'
+
+"'Stranger,' sais I, 'it was nothin' but some poor
+no-souled critter, like yourself, that was skeered a'most
+to death, and wanted to be helped out that's all."
+
+"'Skeered!' said he, 'sarves him right then; he might
+have knowed how to feel for other folks, and not funkify
+them so peskily; I don't keer if he never gets out; but
+I have my doubts about its bein' a livin' human, I tell
+_you_. If I hadn't a renounced the devil and all his
+works that time, I don't know what the upshot would have
+been, for Old Scratch was there too. I saw him as plain
+as I see you; he ran out afore me, and couldn't stop or
+look back, as long as I said catekism. He was in his old
+shape of the sarpent; he was the matter of a yard long,
+and as thick round as my arm and travelled belly-flounder
+fashion; when I touched land, he dodged into an eddy,
+and out of sight in no time. Oh, there is no mistake,
+I'll take my oath of it; I see him, I did upon my soul.
+It was the old gentleman hisself; he come there to cool
+hisself. Oh, it was the devil, that's a fact.'
+
+"'It was nothin' but a fresh water eel,' sais I; 'I have
+seen thousands of 'em there; for the crevices of them
+rocks are chock full of 'em. How can you come for to go,
+for to talk arter that fashion; you are a disgrace to
+our great nation, you great lummokin coward, you. An
+American citizen is afeerd of nothin', but a bad
+spekilation, or bein' found oat.'
+
+"Well, that posed him, he seemed kinder bothered, and
+looked down.
+
+"'An eel, eh! well, it mought be an eel,' sais be, 'that's
+a fact. I didn't think of that; but then if it was, it
+was god-mother granny Eells, that promised I should
+renounce the devil and all his works, that took that
+shape, and come to keep me to my bargain. She died fifty
+years ago, poor old soul, and never kept company with
+Indgians, or niggers, or any such trash. Heavens and
+airth! I don't wonder the Falls wakes the dead, it makes
+such an everlastin' almighty noise, does Niagara. Waiter,
+more cocktail, that last was as weak as water.'
+
+"'Yes, Sir,' and he swallered it like wink.
+
+"'The stage is ready, Sir.'
+
+"'Is it?' said he, and he jumped in all wet as he was;
+for time is money and he didn't want to waste neither.
+As it drove off, I heerd him say, 'Well them's the Falls,
+eh! So I have seen the Falls of Niagara and felt 'em too,
+eh!'
+
+"Now, we are better off than Rufus Dodge was, Squire;
+for we hante got wet, and we hante got frightened, but
+we can look out o' the winder and say, 'Well, that's
+Liverpool, eh! so I have--seen Liverpool.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+CHANGING A NAME.
+
+The rain having confined us to the house this afternoon,
+we sat over our wine after dinner longer than usual.
+Among the different topics that were discussed, the most
+prominent was the state of the political parties in this
+country. Mr. Slick, who paid great deference to the
+opinions of Mr. Hopewell, was anxious to ascertain from
+him what he thought upon the subject, in order to regulate
+his conduct and conversation by it hereafter.
+
+"Minister," said he, "what do you think of the politics
+of the British?"
+
+"I don't think about them at all, Sam. I hear so much of
+such matters at home, that I am heartily tired of them;
+our political world is divided into two classes, the
+knaves and the dupes. Don't let us talk of such exciting,
+things."
+
+"But, Minister," said Mr. Slick, "holdin' the high and
+dignified station I do, as Attache, they will be a-pumpin'
+me for everlastinly, will the great men here, and they
+think a plaguy sight more of our opinion than you are
+aware on; we have tried all them things they are a jawin'
+about here, and they naterally want to know the results.
+Cooper says not one Tory called on him when he was to
+England, but Walter Scott; and that I take it, was more
+lest folks should think he was jealous of him, than any
+thing else; they jist cut him as dead as a skunk; but
+among the Whigs, he was quite an oracle on ballot,
+univarsal suffrage, and all other democratic institutions."
+
+"Well, he was a ninny then, was Cooper, to go and blart
+it all out to the world that way; for if no Tory visited
+him, I should like you to ask him the next time you see
+him, how many gentlemen called upon him? Jist ask him
+that, and it will stop him from writing such stuff any
+more."
+
+"But, Minister, jist tell us now, here you are, as a body
+might say in England, now what are you?"
+
+"I am a man, Sam; _Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum
+puto_."
+
+"Well, what's all that when it's fried?"
+
+"Why, that when away from home, I am a citizen of the
+world. I belong to no party, but take an interest in the
+whole human family."
+
+" Well, Minister, if you choose to sing dumb, you can,
+but I should like to have you answer me one question now,
+and if you won't, why you must jist do t'other thing,
+that's all. Are you a Consarvative?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Are you a Whig?"
+
+"No."
+
+"A Radical?"
+
+"God forbid!"
+
+"What in natur' are you then?"
+
+"A Tory."
+
+"A Tory! well, I thought that a Tory and a Consarvative,
+were as the Indgians say, "all same one brudder." Where
+is the difference?"
+
+"You will soon find that out, Sam; go and talk to a
+Consarvative as a Tory, and you will find he is a Whig:
+go and talk to him again as a Whig, and you will find he
+is a Tory. They are, for all the world, like a sturgeon.
+There is very good beef steaks in a sturgeon, and very
+good fish too, and yet it tante either fish or flesh. I
+don't like taking a new name, it looks amazing like taking
+new principles, or, at all events, like loosenin' old
+ones, and I hante seen the creed of this new sect yet--I
+don't know what its tenets are, nor where to go and look
+for 'em. It strikes me they don't accord with the Tories,
+and yet arn't in tune with the Whigs, but are half a note
+lower than the one, and half a note higher than t'other.
+Now, changes in the body politic are always necessary
+more or less, in order to meet the changes of time, and
+the changes in the condition of man. When they are
+necessary, make 'em, and ha' done with 'em. Make 'em like
+men, not when you are forced to do so, and nobody thanks
+you, but when you see they are wanted, and are proper;
+but don't alter your name.
+
+"My wardens wanted me to do that; they came to me, and
+said 'Minister,' says they, 'we don't want _you_ to
+change, we don't ask it; jist let us call you a Unitarian,
+and you can remain Episcopalian still. We are tired of
+that old fashioned name, it's generally thought unsuited
+to the times, and behind the enlightment of the age; it's
+only fit for benighted Europeans. Change the name, you
+needn't change any thing else. What is a name?'
+
+"'Every thing,' says I, 'every thing, my brethren; one
+name belongs to a Christian, and the other don't; that's
+the difference. I'd die before I surrendered my name;
+for in surrenderin' that, I surrender my principles.'"
+
+"Exactly," said Mr. Slick, "that's what Brother Eldad
+used to say. 'Sam,' said he, 'a man with an _alias_ is
+the worst character in the world; for takin' a new name,
+shows he is ashamed of his old one; and havin' an old
+one, shows his new one is a cheat.'"
+
+"No," said Mr. Hopewell, "I don't like that word
+Consarvative. Them folks may be good kind of people, and
+I guess they be, seein' that the Tories support 'em,
+which is the best thing I see about them; but I don't
+like changin' a name."
+
+"Well, I don't know," said Mr. Slick, "p'raps their old
+name was so infarnal dry rotted, they wanted to change
+it for a sound new one. You recollect when that
+super-superior villain, Expected Thorne, brought an action
+of defamation agin' me, to Slickville, for takin' away
+his character, about stealing the watch to Nova Scotia;
+well, I jist pleaded my own case, and I ups and sais,
+'Gentlemen of the Jury,' sais I, "Expected's character,
+every soul knows, is about the wust in all Slickville.
+If I have taken it away, I have done him a great sarvice,
+for he has a smart chance of gettin' a better one; and
+if he don't find a swap to his mind, why no character is
+better nor a bad one.'
+
+"Well, the old judge and the whole court larfed right
+out like any thin'; and the jury, without stirrin' from
+the box, returned a vardict for the defendant. P'raps
+now, that mought be the case with the Tories."
+
+"The difference," said Mr. Hopewell, is jist this:--your
+friend, Mr. Expected Thorne, had a name he had ought to
+have been ashamed of, and the Tories one that the whole
+nation had very great reason to be proud of. There is
+some little difference, you must admit. My English
+politics, (mind you, I say English, for they hare no
+reference to America,) are Tory, and I don't want to go
+to Sir Robert Peel, or Lord John Russell either."
+
+"As for Johnny Russell," said Mr. Slick, "he is a clever
+little chap that; he--"
+
+"Don't call him Johnny Russell," said Mr. Hopewell, "or
+a little chap, or such flippant names, I don't like to
+hear you talk that way. It neither becomes you as a
+Christian nor a gentleman. St. Luke and St. Paul, when
+addressing people of rank, use the word '[Greek text]'
+which, as nearly as possible, answers to the title of
+'your Excellency.' Honour, we are told, should be given
+to those to whom honour is due; and if we had no such
+authority on the subject, the omission of titles, where
+they are usual and legal, is, to say the least of it, a
+vulgar familiarity, ill becoming an Attache of our embassy.
+But as I was saying, I do not require to go to either of
+those statesmen to be instructed in my politics. I take
+mine where I take my religion, from the Bible. 'Fear
+God, honour the King, and meddle not with those that are
+given to change.'"
+
+"Oh, Minister," said Mr. Slick, "you mis't a figur at
+our glorious Revolution, you had ought to have held on
+to the British; they would have made a bishop of you,
+and shoved you into the House of Lords, black apron, lawn
+sleeves, shovel hat and all, as sure as rates. 'The right
+reverend, the Lord Bishop of Slickville:' wouldn't it
+look well on the back of a letter, eh? or your signature
+to one sent to me, signed 'Joshua Slickville.' It sounds
+better, that, than 'Old Minister,' don't it?"
+
+"Oh, if you go for to talk that way, Sam, I am done; but
+I will shew you that the Tories are the men to govern
+this great nation. A Tory I may say '_noscitur a sociis_.'"
+
+"What in natur is that, when it's biled and the skin took
+off?" asked Mr. Slick.
+
+"Why is it possible you don't know that? Have you forgotten
+that common schoolboy phrase?"
+
+"Guess I do know; but it don't tally jist altogether
+nohow, as it were. Known as a Socialist, isn't it?"
+
+"If, Sir," said Mr. Hopewell, with much earnestness, "if
+instead of ornamenting your conversation with cant terms,
+and miserable slang, picked up from the lowest refuse of
+our population, both east and west, you had cultivated
+your mind, and enriched it with quotations from classical
+writers, you would have been more like an Attache, and
+less like a peddling clockmaker than you are."
+
+"Minister," said Mr. Slick, "I was only in jeest, but
+you are in airnest. What you have said is too true for
+a joke, and I feel it. I was only a sparrin'; but you
+took off the gloves, and felt my short ribs in a way that
+has given me a stitch in the side. It tante fair to kick
+that way afore you are spurred. You've hurt me
+considerable."
+
+"Sam, I am old, narvous, and irritable. I was wrong to
+speak unkindly to you, very wrong indeed, and I am sorry
+for it; but don't teaze me no more, that's a good lad;
+for I feel worse than you do about it. I beg your pardon,
+I--"
+
+"Well," said Mr. Slick, "to get back to what we was a
+sayin', for you do talk like a book, that's a fact;
+'_noscitur a sociis_,' says you."
+
+"Ay, 'Birds of a feather flock together,' as the old
+maxim goes. Now, Sam, who supported the Whigs?"
+
+"Why, let me see; a few of the lords, a few of the gentry,
+the repealers, the manufacturin' folks, the independents,
+the baptists, the dissentin' Scotch, the socialists, the
+radicals, the discontented, and most of the lower orders,
+and so on."
+
+"Well, who supported the Tories?"
+
+"Why, the majority of the lords, the great body of landed
+gentry, the univarsities, the whole of the Church of
+England, the whole of the methodists, amost the principal
+part of the kirk, the great marchants, capitalists,
+bankers, lawyers, army and navy officers, and soon."
+
+"Now don't take your politics from me, Sam, for I am no
+politician; but as an American citizen, judge for yourself,
+which of those two parties is most likely to be right,
+or which would you like to belong to."
+
+"Well, I must say," replied he, "I _do_ think that the
+larnin', piety, property, and respectability, is on the
+Tory side; and where all them things is united, right
+most commonly is found a-joggin' along in company."
+
+"Well now, Sam, you know we are a calculatin' people, a
+commercial people, a practical people. Europe laughs at
+us for it. Perhaps if they attended better to their own
+financial affairs, they would be in a better situation
+to laugh. But still we must look to facts and results.
+How did the Tories, when they went out of office, leave
+the kingdom?--At peace?"
+
+"Yes, with all the world."
+
+"How did the Whigs leave it?"
+
+"With three wars on hand, and one in the vat a-brewin'
+with America. Every great interest injured, some ruined,
+and all alarmed at the impendin' danger--of national
+bankruptcy."
+
+"Well, now for dollars and cents. How did the Tories
+leave the treasury?"
+
+"With a surplus revenue of millions."
+
+"How did the Whigs?"
+
+"With a deficiency that made the nation scratch their
+head, and stare agin."
+
+"I could go through the details with you, as far as my
+imperfect information extends, or more imperfect memory
+would let me; but it is all the same, and always will
+be, here, in France, with us, in the colonies, and
+everywhere else. Whenever property, talent, and virtue
+are all on one side, and only ignorant numbers, with a
+mere sprinkling of property and talent to agitate 'em
+and make use of 'em, or misinformed or mistaken virtue
+to sanction 'em on the other side, no honest man can take
+long to deliberate which side he will choose.
+
+"As to those conservatives, I don't know what to say,
+Sam; I should like to put you right if I could. But I'll
+tell you what puzzles me. I ask myself what is a Tory?
+I find he is a man who goes the whole figur' for the
+support of the monarchy, in its three orders, of king,
+lords, and commons, as by law established; that he is
+for the connexion of Church and State and so on; and that
+as the wealthiest man in England, he offers to prove his
+sincerity, by paying the greatest part of the taxes to
+uphold these things. Well, then I ask what is Consarvitism?
+I am told that it means, what it imports, a conservation
+of things as they are. Where, then, is the difference?
+_If there is no difference, it is a mere juggle to change
+the name: if there is a difference, the word is worse
+than a juggle, for it don't import any_."
+
+"Tell you what," said Mr. Slick, "I heerd an old critter
+to Halifax once describe 'em beautiful. He said he could
+tell a man's politicks by his shirt. 'A Tory, Sir,' said
+he, for he was a pompious old boy was old Blue-Nose; 'a
+Tory, Sir,' said he, 'is a gentleman every inch of him,
+stock, lock, and barrel; and he puts a clean frill shirt
+on every day. A Whig, Sir,' says he, 'is a gentleman
+every other inch of him, and he puts an onfrilled one on
+every other day. A Radical, Sir, ain't no gentleman at
+all, and he only puts one on of a Sunday. But a Chartist,
+Sir, is a loafer; he never puts one on till the old one
+won't hold together no longer, and drops off in, pieces.'"
+
+"Pooh!" said Mr. Hopewell, "now don't talk nonsense; but
+as I was a-goin' to say, I am a plain man, and a
+straightforward man, Sam; what I say, I mean; and what
+I mean, I say. Private and public life are subject to
+the same rules; and truth and manliness are two qualities
+that will carry you through this world much better than
+policy, or tact, or expediency, or any other word that
+ever was devised to conceal, or mystify a deviation from
+the straight line. They have a sartificate of character,
+these consarvitives, in having the support of the Tories;
+but that don't quite satisfy me. It may, perhaps, mean
+no more than this, arter all--they are the best sarvants
+we have; but not as good as we want. However, I shall
+know more about it soon; and when I do, I will give you
+my opinion candidly. One thing, however, is certain, a
+change in the institutions of a country I could accede
+to, approve, and support, if necessary and good; but I
+never can approve of either an individual or a
+party--'_changing a name_.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE NELSON MONUMENT.
+
+The following day being dry, we walked out to view the
+wonders of this great commercial city of England, Liverpool.
+The side-paths were filled with an active and busy
+population, and the main streets thronged with heavily-laden
+waggons, conveying to the docks the manufactures of the
+country, or carrying inward the productions of foreign
+nations. It was an animating and busy scene.
+
+"This," said Mr. Hopewell, "is solitude. It is in a place
+like this, that you feel yourself to be an isolated being,
+when you are surrounded by multitudes who have no sympathy
+with you, to whom you are not only wholly unknown, but
+not one of whom you have ever seen before.
+
+"The solitude of the vast American forest is not equal
+to this. Encompassed by the great objects of nature, you
+recognise nature's God every where; you feel his presence,
+and rely on his protection. Every thing in a city is
+artificial, the predominant idea is man; and man, under
+circumstances like the present, is neither your friend
+nor protector. You form no part of the social system
+here. Gregarious by nature, you cannot associate; dependent,
+you cannot attach yourself; a rational being, you cannot
+interchange ideas. In seeking the wilderness you enter
+the abode of solitude, and are naturally and voluntarily
+alone. On visiting a city, on the contrary, you enter
+the residence of man, and if you are forced into isolation
+there, to you it is worse than a desert.
+
+"I know of nothing so depressing as this feeling of
+unconnected individuality, amidst a dense population like
+this. But, my friend, there is One who never forsakes us
+either in the throng or the wilderness, whose ear is
+always open to our petitions, and who has invited us to
+rely on his goodness and mercy."
+
+"You hadn't ought to feel lonely here, Minister," said
+Mr. Slick. "It's a place we have a right to boast of is
+Liverpool; we built it, and I'll tell you what it is, to
+build two such cities as New York and Liverpool in the
+short time we did, is sunthin' to brag of. If there had
+been no New York, there would have been no Liverpool;
+but if there had been no Liverpool, there would have been
+a New York though. They couldn't do nothin' without us.
+We had to build them elegant line-packets for 'em; they
+couldn't build one that could sail, and if she sail'd
+she couldn't steer, and if she sail'd and steer'd, she
+upsot; there was always a screw loose somewhere.
+
+"It cost us a great deal too to build them ere great
+docks. They cover about seventy acres, I reckon. We have
+to pay heavy port dues to keep 'em up, and pay interest
+on capital. The worst of it is, too, while we pay for
+all this, we hante got the direction of the works."
+
+"If you have paid for all these things," said I, "you
+had better lay claim to Liverpool. Like the disputed
+territory (to which it now appears, you knew you had no
+legal or equitable claim), it is probable you will have
+half of it ceded to you, for the purpose of conciliation.
+I admire this boast of yours uncommonly. It reminds me
+of the conversation we had some years ago, about the
+device on your "naval button," of the eagle holding an
+anchor in its claws--that national emblem of ill-directed
+ambition and vulgar pretension."
+
+"I thank you for that hint," said Mr. Slick, "I was in
+jeest like; but there is more in it, for all that, than
+you'd think. It ain't literal fact, but it is figurative
+truth. But now I'll shew you sunthin' in this town, that's
+as false as parjury, sunthin that's a disgrace to this
+country and an insult to our great nation, and there is
+no jeest in it nother, but a downright lie; and, since
+you go for to throw up to me our naval button with its
+'eagle and anchor,' I'll point out to you sunthin' a
+hundred thousand million times wus. What was the name o'
+that English admiral folks made such a touss about; that
+cripple-gaited, one-eyed, one-armed little naval critter?"
+
+"Do you mean Lord Nelson?"
+
+"I do," said he, and pointing to his monument, he continued,
+" There he is as big as life, five feet nothin', with
+his shoes on. Now examine that monument, and tell me if
+the English don't know how to brag, as well as some other
+folks, and whether they don't brag too sumtimes, when
+they hante got no right to. There is four figures there
+a representing the four quarters of the globe in chains,
+and among them America, a crouchin' down, and a-beggin'
+for life, like a mean heathen Ingin. Well, jist do the
+civil now, and tell me when that little braggin' feller
+ever whipped us, will you? Just tell me the day of the
+year he was ever able to do it, since his mammy cut the
+apron string and let him run to seek his fortin'. Heavens
+and airth, we'd a chawed him right up!
+
+"No, there never was an officer among you, that had any
+thing to brag of about us but one, and he wasn't a
+Britisher--he was a despisable Blue-nose colonist boy of
+Halifax. When his captain was took below wounded, he was
+leftenant, so he jist ups and takes command o' the Shannon,
+and fit like a tiger and took our splendid frigate the
+Chesapeake, and that was sumthing to brag on. And what
+did he get for it? Why colony sarce, half-pay, and leave
+to make room for Englishers to go over his head; and here
+is a lyin' false monument, erected to this man that never
+even see'd one of our national ships, much less smelt
+thunder and lightning out of one, that English like, has
+got this for what he didn't do.
+
+"I am sorry Mr. Lett [Footnote: This was the man that
+blew up the Brock monument in Canada. _He was a Patriot_.]
+is dead to Canada, or I'd give him a hint about this.
+I'd say, 'I hope none of our free and enlightened citizens
+will blow this lyin', swaggerin', bullyin' monument up?
+I should be sorry for 'em to take notice of such vulgar
+insolence as this; for bullies will brag.' He'd wink and
+say, 'I won't non-concur with you, Mr. Slick. I hope it
+won't be blowed up; but wishes like dreams come con_trary_
+ways sometimes, and I shouldn't much wonder if it bragged
+till it bust some night.' It would go for it, that's a
+fact. For Mr. Lett has a kind of nateral genius for
+blowin' up of monuments.
+
+"Now you talk of our Eagle takin' an anchor in its claws
+as bad taste. I won't say it isn't; but it is a nation
+sight better nor this. See what the little admiral critter
+is about! why he is a stampin' and a jabbin' of the iron
+heel of his boot into the lifeless body of a fallen foe!
+It's horrid disgustin', and ain't overly brave nother;
+and to make matters wus, as if this warn't bad enough,
+them four emblem figures, have great heavy iron chains
+on 'em, and a great enormous sneezer of a lion has one
+part o' the chain in its mouth, and is a-growlin' and
+a-grinnin' and a-snarling at 'em like mad, as much as to
+say, 'if you dare to move the sixteen hundredth part of
+an inch, I will fall to and make mincemeat of you, in
+less than half no time. I don't think there never was
+nothin' so bad as this, ever seen since the days of old
+daddy Adam down to this present blessed day, I don't
+indeed. So don't come for to go, Squire, to tarnt me with
+the Eagle and the anchor no more, for I don't like it a
+bit; you'd better look to your '_Nelson monument_' and
+let us alone. So come now!"
+
+Amidst much that was coarse, and more that was exaggerated,
+there was still some foundation for the remarks of the
+Attache.
+
+"You arrogate a little too much to yourselves," I observed,
+"in considering the United States as all America. At the
+time these brilliant deeds were achieved, which this
+monument is intended to commemorate, the Spaniards owned
+a very much greater portion of the transatlantic continent
+than you now do, and their navy composed a part of the
+hostile fleets which were destroyed by Lord Nelson. At
+that time, also, you had no navy, or at all events, so
+few ships, as scarcely to deserve the name of one; nor
+had you won for yourselves that high character, which
+you now so justly enjoy, for skill and gallantry. I agree
+with you, however, in thinking the monument is in bad
+taste. The name of Lord Nelson is its own monument. It
+will survive when these perishable structures, which the
+pride or the gratitude of his countrymen have erected to
+perpetuate his fame, shall have mouldered into dust, and
+been forgotten for ever. If visible objects are thought
+necessary to suggest the mention of his name oftener that
+it would otherwise occur to the mind, they should be such
+as to improve the taste, as well as awaken the patriotism
+of the beholder. As an American, there is nothing to
+which you have a right to object, but as a critic, I
+admit that there is much that you cannot approve in the
+'_Nelson Monument_.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+COTTAGES.
+
+On the tenth day after we landed at Liverpool, we arrived
+in London and settled ourselves very comfortably in
+lodgings at No. 202, Piccadilly, where every possible
+attention was paid to us by our landlord and his wife,
+Mr. and Mrs. Weeks. We performed the journey in a
+post-chaise, fearing that the rapid motion of a rail car
+might have an unpleasant effect upon the health of Mr.
+Hope well.
+
+Of the little incidents of travel that occurred to us,
+or of the various objects of attraction on the route, it
+is not my intention to give any account. Our journey was
+doubtless much like the journeys of other people, and
+every thing of local interest is to be found in Guide
+Books, or topographical works, which are within the reach
+of every body.
+
+This book, however imperfect its execution may be, is
+altogether of another kind. I shall therefore pass over
+this and other subsequent journeys, with no other remark,
+than that they were performed, until something shall
+occur illustrative of the objects I have in view.
+
+On this occasion I shall select from my diary a description
+of the labourer's cottage, and the parish church; because
+the one shews the habits, tastes, and condition of the
+poor of this country, in contrast with that of America--and
+the other, the relative means of religious instruction,
+and its effect on the lower orders.
+
+On the Saturday morning, while preparing to resume our
+journey, which was now nearly half completed, Mr. Hopewell
+expressed a desire to remain at the inn where we were,
+until the following Monday. As the day was fine, he said
+he should like to ramble about the neighbourhood, and
+enjoy the fresh air. His attention was soon drawn to some
+very beautiful new cottages.
+
+"These," said he, "are no doubt erected at the expense,
+and for the gratification of some great landed proprietor.
+They are not the abodes of ordinary labourers, but designed
+for some favoured dependant or aged servant. They are
+expensive toys, but still they are not without their use.
+They diffuse a taste among the peasantry--they present
+them with models, which, though they cannot imitate in
+costliness of material or finish, they can copy in
+arrangement, and in that sort of decoration, which flowers,
+and vines, and culture, and care can give. Let us seek
+one which is peculiarly the poor man's cottage, and let
+us go in and see who and what they are, how they live,
+and above all, how they think and talk. Here is a lane,
+let us follow it, till we come to a habitation."
+
+We turned into a grass road, bounded on either side by
+a high straggling thorn hedge. At its termination was an
+irregular cottage with a thatched roof, which projected
+over the windows in front. The latter were latticed with
+diamond-shaped panes of glass, and were four in number,
+one on each side of the door and two just under the roof.
+The door was made of two transverse parts, the upper half
+of which was open. On one side was a basket-like cage
+containing a magpie, and on the other, a cat lay extended
+on a bench, dozing in the warmth of the sun. The blue
+smoke, curling upwards from a crooked chimney, afforded
+proof of some one being within.
+
+We therefore opened a little gate, and proceeded through
+a neat garden, in which flowers and vegetables were
+intermixed. It had a gay appearance from the pear, apple,
+thorn and cherry being all in full bloom. We were received
+at the door by a middle-aged woman, with the ruddy glow
+of health on her cheeks, and dressed in coarse, plain,
+but remarkably neat and suitable, attire. As this was a
+cottage selected at random, and visited without previous
+intimation of our intention, I took particular notice of
+every thing I saw, because I regarded its appearance as
+a fair specimen of its constant and daily state.
+
+Mr. Hopewell needed no introduction. His appearance told
+what he was. His great stature and erect bearing, his
+intelligent and amiable face, his noble forehead, his
+beautiful snow-white locks, his precise and antique dress,
+his simplicity of manner, every thing, in short, about
+him, at once attracted attention and conciliated favour.
+
+Mrs. Hodgins, for such was her name, received us with
+that mixture of respect and ease, which shewed she was
+accustomed to converse with her superiors. She was
+dressed in a blue homespun gown, (the sleeves of which
+were drawn up to her elbows and the lower part tucked
+through her pocket-hole,) a black stuff petticoat, black
+stockings and shoes with the soles more than half an inch
+thick. She wore also, a large white apron, and a neat
+and by no means unbecoming cap. She informed us her
+husband was a gardener's labourer, that supported his
+family by his daily work, and by the proceeds of the
+little garden attached to the house, and invited us to
+come in and sit down.
+
+The apartment into which the door opened, was a kitchen
+or common room. On one side, was a large fire-place,
+the mantel-piece or shelf, of which was filled with brass
+candlesticks, large and small, some queer old-fashioned
+lamps, snuffers and trays, polished to a degree of
+brightness, that was dazzling. A dresser was carried
+round the wall, filled with plates and dishes, and
+underneath were exhibited the ordinary culinary utensils,
+in excellent order. A small table stood before the fire,
+with a cloth of spotless whiteness spread upon it, as if
+in preparation for a meal. A few stools completed the
+furniture.
+
+Passing through this place, we were shewn into the parlour,
+a small room with a sanded floor. Against the sides were
+placed some old, dark, and highly polished chairs, of
+antique form and rude workmanship. The walls were decorated
+with several coloured prints, illustrative of the Pilgrim's
+Progress and hung in small red frames of about six inches
+square. The fire-place was filled with moss, and its
+mantel-shelf had its china sheep and sheperdesses, and
+a small looking-glass, the whole being surmounted by a
+gun hung transversely. The Lord's Prayer and the Ten
+Commandments worked in worsted, were suspended in a wooden
+frame between the windows, which had white muslin blinds,
+and opened on hinges, like a door. A cupboard made to
+fit the corner, in a manner to economise room, was filled
+with china mugs, cups and saucers of different sizes and
+patterns, some old tea-spoons and a plated tea-pot.
+
+There was a small table opposite to the window, which
+Contained half a dozen books. One of these was large,
+handsomely bound, and decorated with gilt edged paper.
+Mr. Hopewell opened it, and expressed great satisfaction
+at finding such an edition of a bible in such a house.
+Mrs. Hodgins explained that this was a present from her
+eldest son, who had thus appropriated his first earnings
+to the gratification of his mother.
+
+"Creditable to you both, dear," said Mr. Hopewell: "to
+you, because it is a proof how well you have instructed
+him; and to him, that he so well appreciated and so
+faithfully remembered those lessons of duty."
+
+He then inquired into the state of her family, whether
+the boy who was training a peach-tree against the end of
+the house was her son, and many other matters not necessary
+to record with the same precision that I have enumerated
+the furniture.
+
+"Oh, here is a pretty little child!" said he. "Come here,
+dear, and shake hands along with me. What beautiful hair
+she has! and she looks so clean and nice, too. Every
+thing and every body here is so neat, so tidy, and so
+appropriate. Kiss me, dear; and then talk to me; for I
+love little children. 'Suffer them to come unto me,' said
+our Master, 'for of such is the kingdom of Heaven:' that
+is, that we should resemble these little ones in our
+innocence."
+
+He then took her on his knee. "Can you say the Lord's
+Prayer, dear?"
+
+"Yes, Sir."
+
+"Very good. And the ten Commandments?"
+
+"Yes, Sir."
+
+"Who taught you?"
+
+"My mother, Sir; and the parson taught me the Catechism."
+
+"Why, Sam, this child can say the Lord's Prayer, the ten
+Commandments, and the Catechism. Ain't this beautiful?
+Tell me the fifth, dear."
+
+And the child repeated it distinctly and accurately.
+
+"Right. Now, dear, always bear that in mind, especially
+towards your mother. You have an excellent mother; her
+cares and her toils are many; and amidst them all, how
+well she has done her duty to you. The only way she can
+be repaid, is to find that you are what she desires you
+to be, a good girl. God commands this return to be made,
+and offers you the reward of length of days. Here is a
+piece of money for you. And now, dear," placing her again
+upon her feet, "you never saw so old a man as me, and
+never will again; and one, too, that came from a far-off
+country, three thousand miles off; it would take you a
+long time to count three thousand; it is so far. Whenever
+you do what you ought not, think of the advice of the
+'old Minister.'"
+
+Here Mr. Slick beckoned the mother to the door, and
+whispered something to her, of which, the only words that
+met my ear were "a trump," "a brick," "the other man like
+him ain't made yet," "do it, he'll talk, then."
+
+To which she replied, "I have--oh yes, Sir--by all means."
+
+She then advanced to Mr. Hopewell, and asked him if he
+would like to smoke.
+
+"Indeed I would, dear, but I have no pipe here."
+
+She said her old man smoked of an evening, after his work
+was done, and that she could give him a pipe and some
+tobacco, if he would condescend to use them; and going
+to the cupboard, she produced a long white clay pipe and
+some cut tobacco.
+
+Having filled and lighted his pipe, Mr. Hopewell said,
+"What church do you go to, dear?"
+
+"The parish church, Sir."
+
+"Right; you will hear Sound doctrine and good morals
+preached there. Oh this a fortunate country, Sam, for
+the state provides for the religious instruction of the
+poor. Where the voluntary system prevails, the poor have
+to give from their poverty, or go without; and their
+gifts are so small, that they can purchase but little.
+It's a beautiful system, a charitable system, a Christian
+system. Who is your landlord?"
+
+"Squire Merton, Sir; and one of the kindest masters, too,
+that ever was. He is so good to the poor; and the ladies.
+Sir, they are so kind, also. When my poor daughter Mary
+was so ill with the lever, I do think she would have died
+but for the attentions of those young ladies; and when
+she grew better, they sent her wine and nourishing things
+from their own table. They will be so glad to see you.
+Sir, at the Priory. Oh, I wish you could see them!"
+
+"There it is, Sam," he continued "That illustrates what
+I always told you of their social system here. We may
+boast of our independence, but that independence produces
+isolation. There is an individuality about every man and
+every family in America, that gives no right of inquiry,
+and imposes no duty of relief on any one. Sickness, and
+sorrow, and trouble, are not divulged; joy, success, and
+happiness are not imparted. If we are independent in
+our thoughts and actions, so are we left to sustain the
+burden of our own ills. How applicable to our state is
+that passage of Scripture, 'The heart knoweth its own
+bitterness, and a stranger intermeddleth not with its
+joy.'
+
+"Now, look at this poor family; here is a clergyman
+provided for them, whom they do not, and are not even
+expected to pay; their spiritual wants are ministered
+to, faithfully and zealously, as we see by the instruction
+of that little child. Here is a friend upon whom they
+can rely in their hour of trouble, as the bereaved mother
+did on Elisha. 'And she went up and laid her child that
+was dead on the bed of the man of God, and shut the door
+on him, and went out.' And when a long train of agitation,
+mis-government, and ill-digested changes have deranged
+this happy country, as has recently been the case, here
+is an indulgent landlord, disposed to lower his rent or
+give further time for payment, or if sickness invades
+any of these cottages, to seek out the sufferer, to afford
+the remedies, and by his countenance, his kindness, and
+advice, to alleviate their trouble. Here it is, a positive
+duty arising from their relative situations of landlord
+and tenant. The tenants support the owner, the landlord
+protects the tenants: the duties are reciprocal.
+
+"With _us_ the duties, as far as Christian duties can be
+said to be optional, are voluntary; and the voluntary
+discharge of duties, like the voluntary support of
+religion, we know, from sad experience, to be sometimes
+imperfectly performed, at others intermitted, and often
+wholly neglected. Oh! it is a happy country this, a great
+and a good country; and how base, how wicked, how diabolical
+it is to try to set such a family as this against their
+best friends, their pastor and their landlord; to instil
+dissatisfaction and distrust into their simple minds,
+and to teach them to loathe the hand, that proffers
+nothing but regard or relief. It is shocking, isn't it?"
+
+"That's what I often say, Sir," said Mrs. Hodgins, "to
+my old man, to keep away from them Chartists."
+
+"Chartists! dear, who are they? I never heard of them."
+
+"Why, Sir, they are the men that want the five pints."
+
+"Five pints! why you don't say so; oh! they are bad men,
+have nothing to do with them. Five pints! why that is
+two quarts and a half; that is too much to drink if it
+was water; and if any thing else, it is beastly drunkenness.
+Have nothing to do with them."
+
+"Oh! no, Sir, it is five points of law."
+
+"Tut--tut--tut! what have you got to do with law, my
+dear?"
+
+"By gosh, Aunty," said Mr. Slick, "you had better not
+cut that pie: you will find it rather sour in the apple
+sarce, and tough in the paste, I tell _you_."
+
+"Yes, Sir," she replied, "but they are a unsettling of
+his mind. What shall I do? for I don't like these night
+meetings, and he always comes home from 'em cross and
+sour-like."
+
+"Well, I am sorry to hear that," said Mr. Hopewell, "I
+wish I could see him; but I can't, for I am bound on a
+journey. I am sorry to hear it, dear. Sam, this country
+is so beautiful, so highly cultivated, so adorned by
+nature and art, and contains so much comfort and happiness,
+that it resembles almost the garden of Eden. But, Sam,
+the Serpent is here, the Serpent is here beyond a doubt.
+It changes its shape, and alters its name, and takes a
+new colour, but still it is the Serpent, and it ought to
+be crushed. Sometimes it calls itself liberal, then
+radical, then chartist, then agitator, then repealer,
+then political dissenter, then anti-corn leaguer, and so
+on. Sometimes it stings the clergy, and coils round them,
+and almost strangles them, for it knows the Church is
+its greatest enemy, and it is furious against it. Then
+it attacks the peers, and covers them with its froth and
+slaver, and then it bites the landlord. Then it changes
+form, and shoots at the Queen, or her ministers, and sets
+fire to buildings, and burns up corn to increase distress;
+and, when hunted away, it dives down into the collieries,
+or visits the manufactories, and maddens the people, and
+urges them on to plunder and destruction. It's a melancholy
+thing to think of; but he is as of old, alive and active,
+seeing whom he can allure and deceive, and whoever listens
+is ruined for ever.
+
+"Stay, dear, I'll tell you what I will do for you. I'll
+inquire about these Chartists; and when I go to London,
+I will write a little tract so plain that any child may
+read it and understand it; and call it _The Chartist_,
+and get it printed, and I will send you one for your
+husband, and two or three others, to give to those whom
+they may benefit.
+
+"And now, dear, I must go. You and I will never meet
+again in this world; but I shall often think of you, and
+often speak of you. I shall tell my people of the comforts,
+of the neatness, of the beauty of an English cottage.
+May God bless you, and so regulate your mind as to preserve
+in you a reverence for his holy word, an obedience to
+the commands of your Spiritual Pastor, and a respect for
+all that are placed in authority over you!"
+
+"Well, it is pretty, too, is this cottage," said Mr.
+Slick, as we strolled back to the inn, "but the
+handsumestest thing is to hear that good old soul talk
+dictionary that way, aint it? How nateral he is! Guess
+they don't often see such a 'postle as that in these
+diggins. Yes, it's pretty is this cottage; but it's small,
+arter all. You feel like a squirrel in a cage, in it;
+you have to run round and round, and don't go forward
+none. What would a man do with a rifle here? For my part,
+I have a taste for the wild woods; it comes on me regular
+in the fall, like the lake fever, and I up gun, and off
+for a week or two, and camp out, and get a snuff of the
+spruce-wood air, and a good appetite, and a bit of fresh
+ven'son to sup on at night.
+
+"I shall be off to the highlands this fall; but, cuss
+em, they hante got no woods there; nothin' but heather,
+and thats only high enough to tear your clothes. That's
+the reason the Scotch don't wear no breeches, they don't
+like to get 'em ragged up that way for everlastinly, they
+can't afford it; so they let em scratch and tear their
+skin, for that will grow agin, and trowsers won't.
+
+"Yes, it's a pretty cottage that, and a nice tidy body
+that too, is Mrs. Hodgins. I've seen the time when I
+would have given a good deal to have been so well housed
+as that. There is some little difference atween that
+cottage and a log hut of a poor back emigrant settler,
+you and I know where. Did ever I tell you of the night
+I spent at Lake Teal, with old Judge Sandford?"
+
+"No, not that I recollect."
+
+"Well, once upon a time I was a-goin' from Mill-bridge
+to Shadbrooke, on a little matter of bisness, and an
+awful bad and lonely road it was, too. There was scarcely
+no settlers in it, and the road was all made of sticks,
+stones, mud holes, and broken bridges. It was een amost
+onpassible, and who should I overtake on the way but the
+Judge, and his guide, on horseback, and Lawyer Traverse
+a-joggin' along in his gig, at the rate of two miles an
+hour at the fardest.
+
+"'Mornin,' sais the Judge, for he was a sociable man,
+and had a kind word for every body, had the Judge. Few
+men 'know'd human natur' better nor he did, and what he
+used to call the philosophy of life. 'I am glad to see
+you on the road, Mr. Slick, sais he, 'for it is so bad
+I am afraid there are places that will require our united
+efforts to pass 'em.'
+
+"Well, I felt kinder sorry for the delay too, for I know'd
+we should make a poor journey on't, on account of that
+lawyer critter's gig, that hadn't no more busness on that
+rough track than a steam engine had. But I see'd the
+Judge wanted me to stay company, and help him along, and
+so I did. He was fond of a joke, was the old Judge, and
+sais he,
+
+"'I'm afraid we shall illustrate that passage o' Scriptur',
+Mr. Slick,' said he, '"And their judges shall be overthrown
+in stony places." It's jist a road for it, ain't it?'
+
+"Well we chattered along the road this way a leetle, jist
+a leetle faster than we travelled, for we made a snail's
+gallop of it, that's a fact; and night overtook us, as
+I suspected it would, at Obi Rafuse's, at the Great Lake;
+and as it was the only public for fourteen miles, and
+dark was settin' in, we dismounted, but oh, what a house
+it was!
+
+"Obi was an emigrant, and those emigrants are ginerally
+so fond of ownin' the soil, that like misers, they carry
+as much of it about 'em on their parsons, in a common
+way, as they cleverly can. Some on 'em are awful dirty
+folks, that's a fact, and Obi was one of them. He kept
+public, did Obi; the sign said it was a house of
+entertainment for man and beast. For critters that ain't
+human, I do suppose it spoke the truth, for it was enough
+to make a hoss larf, if he could understand it, that's
+a fact; but dirt, wretchedness and rags, don't have that
+effect on me.
+
+"The house was built of rough spruce logs, (the only
+thing spruce about it), with the bark on, and the cracks
+and seams was stuffed with moss. The roof was made of
+coarse slabs, battened and not shingled, and the chimbly
+peeped out like a black pot, made of sticks and mud, the
+way a crow's nest is. The winders were half broke out,
+and stopped up with shingles and old clothes, and a great
+bank of mud and straw all round, reached half way up to
+the roof, to keep the frost out of the cellar. It looked
+like an old hat on a dung heap. I pitied the old Judge,
+because he was a man that took the world as he found it,
+and made no complaints. He know'd if you got the best,
+it was no use complainin' that the best warn't good.
+
+"Well, the house stood alone in the middle of a clearin',
+without an outhouse of any sort or kind about it, or any
+fence or enclosure, but jist rose up as a toodstool grows,
+all alone in the field. Close behind it was a thick short
+second growth of young birches, about fifteen feet high,
+which was the only shelter it had, and that was on the
+wrong side, for it was towards the south.
+
+"Well, when we alighted, and got the baggage off, away
+starts the guide with the Judge's traps, and ups a path
+through the woods to a settler's, and leaves us. Away
+down by the edge of the lake was a little barn, filled
+up to the roof with grain and hay, and there was no
+standin' room or shelter in it for the hosses. So the
+lawyer hitches his critter to a tree, and goes and fetches
+up some fodder for him, and leaves him for the night, to
+weather it as he could. As soon as he goes in, I takes Old
+Clay to the barn, for it's a maxim of mine always to look
+out arter number one, opens the door, and pulls out sheaf
+arter sheaf of grain as fast as I could, and throws it
+out, till I got a place big enough for him to crawl in.
+
+"'Now,' sais I, 'old boy,' as I shot to the door arter
+him, 'if that hole ain't big enough for you, eat away
+till it is, that's all.'
+
+"I had hardly got to the house afore the rain, that had
+threatened all day, came down like smoke, and the wind
+got up, and it blew like a young hurricane, and the lake
+roared dismal; it was an awful night, and it was hard to
+say which was wus, the Storm or the shelter.
+
+"'Of two evils,' sais I to the lawyer, 'choose the least.
+It ain't a bad thing to be well housed in a night like
+this, is it?'
+
+"The critter groaned, for both cases was so 'bad he didn't
+know which to take up to defend, so he grinned horrid
+and said nothin'; and it was enough to make him grin too,
+that's a fact. He looked as if he had got hold on a bill
+o' pains and penalties instead of a bill of costs that
+time, you may depend.
+
+"Inside of the house was three rooms, the keepin' room,
+where we was all half circled round the fire, and two
+sleepin' rooms off of it. One of these Obi had, who was
+a-bed, groanin', coughin', and turnin' over and over all
+the time on the creakin' bedstead with pleurisy; t'other
+was for the judge. The loft was for the old woman, his
+mother, and the hearth, or any other soft place we could
+find, was allocated for lawyer and me.
+
+"What a scarecrow lookin' critter old aunty was, warn't
+she? She was all in rags and tatters, and though she
+lived 'longside of the lake the best part of her emigrant
+life, had never used water since she was christened. Her
+eyes were so sunk in her head, they looked like two burnt
+holes in a blanket. Her hair was pushed back, and tied
+so tight with an eel-skin behind her head, it seemed to
+take the hide with it. I 'most wonder how she ever shot
+to her eyes to go to sleep. She had no stockins on her
+legs, and no heels to her shoes, so she couldn't lift
+her feet up, for fear of droppin' off her slippers; but
+she just shoved and slid about as if she was on ice. She
+had a small pipe in her mouth, with about an inch of a
+stem, to keep her nose warm, and her skin was so yaller
+and wrinkled, and hard and oily, she looked jist like a
+dried smoked red herrin', she did upon my soul.
+
+"The floor of the room was blacker nor ink, because that
+is pale sometimes; and the utenshils, oh, if the fire
+didn't purify 'em now and ag'in, all the scrubbin' in
+the world wouldn't, they was past that. Whenever the door
+was opened, in run the pigs, and the old woman hobbled
+round arter them, bangin' them with a fryin' pan, till
+she seemed out o' breath. Every time she took less and
+less notice of 'em, for she was 'most beat out herself,
+and was busy a gettin' of the tea-kettle to bile, and it
+appeared to me she was a-goin' to give in and let 'em
+sleep with me and the lawyer, near the fire.
+
+"So I jist puts the tongs in the sparklin' coals and
+heats the eends on 'em red hot, and the next time they
+comes in, I watches a chance, outs with the tongs, and
+seizes the old sow by the tail, and holds on till I singes
+it beautiful. The way she let go ain't no matter, but if
+she didn't yell it's a pity, that's all. She made right
+straight for the door, dashed in atween old aunty's legs,
+and carries her out on her back, ridin' straddle-legs
+like a man, and tumbles her head over heels in the duck
+pond of dirty water outside, and then lays down along
+side of her, to put the fire out in its tail and cool
+itself.
+
+"Aunty took up the screamin' then, where the pig left
+off; but her voice warn't so good, poor thing! she was
+too old for that, it sounded like a cracked bell; it was
+loud enough, but it warn't jist so clear. She came in
+drippin' and cryin' and scoldin'; she hated water, and
+what was wus, this water made her dirtier. It ran off of
+her like a gutter. The way she let out agin pigs,
+travellers and houses of entertainment, was a caution to
+sinners. She vowed she'd stop public next mornin', and
+bile her kettle with the sign; folks might entertain
+themselves and be hanged to 'em, for all her, that they
+might. Then she mounted a ladder and goes up into the
+loft-to change.
+
+"'Judge' sais I, 'I am sorry, too, I singed that pig's
+tail arter that fashion, for the smell of pork chops
+makes me feel kinder hungry, and if we had 'em, no soul
+could eat 'em here in such a stye as this. But, dear me,'
+sais I, 'You'd better move, Sir; that old woman is juicy,
+and I see it a comin' through the cracks of the floor
+above, like a streak of molasses.
+
+"'Mr. Slick,' sais he, 'this is dreadful. I never saw
+any thing so bad before in all this country; but what
+can't be cured must be endured, I do suppose. We must
+only be good-natured and do the best we can, that's all.
+An emigrant house is no place to stop at, is it? There
+is a tin case,' sais he, 'containin' a cold tongue and
+some biscuits, in my portmanter; please to get them out.
+You must act as butler to-night, if you please; for I
+can't eat any thing that old woman touches.'
+
+"So I spreads one of his napkins on the table, and gets
+out the eatables, and then he produced a pocket pistol,
+for he was a sensible man was the judge, and we made a
+small check, for there warn't enough for a feed.
+
+"Arter that, he takes out a night-cap, and fits it on
+tight, and then puts on his cloak, and wraps the hood of
+it close over his head, and foldin' himself up in it, he
+went and laid down without ondressin'. The lawyer took
+a stretch for it on the bench, with his gig cushions for
+a pillar, and I makes up the fire, sits down on the chair,
+puts my legs up on the jamb, draws my hat over my eyes,
+and folds my arms for sleep.
+
+"'But fust and foremost,' sais I, 'aunty, take a drop of
+the strong waters: arter goin' the whole hog that way,
+you must need some,' and I poured her out a stiff corker
+into one of her mugs, put some sugar and hot water to
+it, and she tossed it off as if she railly did like it.
+
+"'Darn that pig,' said she, 'it is so poor, its back is
+as sharp as a knife. It hurt me properly, that's a fact,
+and has most broke my crupper bone.' And she put her hand
+behind her, and moaned piteous.
+
+"'Pig skin,' sais I, 'aunty, is well enough when made
+into a saddle, but it ain't over pleasant to ride on bare
+back that way,' sais I, 'is it? And them bristles ain't
+quite so soft as feathers, I do suppose.'
+
+"I thought I should a died a holdin' in of a haw haw that
+way. Stifling a larf a'most stifles oneself, that's a
+fact. I felt sorry for her, too, but sorrow won't always
+keep you from larfin', unless you be sorry for yourself.
+So as I didn't want to offend her I ups legs agin to the
+jam, and shot my eyes and tried to go to sleep.
+
+"Well, I can snooze through most any thin', but I couldn't
+get much sleep that night. The pigs kept close to the
+door, a shovin' agin it every now and then, to see all
+was right for a dash in, if the bears came; and the geese
+kept sentry too agin the foxes; and one old feller would
+squake out "all's well" every five minuts, as he marched
+up and down and back agin on the bankin' of the house.
+
+"But the turkeys was the wust. They was perched upon the
+lee side of the roof, and sometimes an eddy of wind would
+take a feller right slap off his legs, and send him
+floppin' and rollin' and sprawlin' and screamin' down to
+the ground, and then he'd make most as much fuss a-gettin'
+up into line agin. They are very fond of straight, lines
+is turkeys. I never see an old gobbler, with his gorget,
+that I don't think of a kernel of a marchin' regiment,
+and if you'll listen to him and watch him, he'll strut
+jist like one, and say, 'halt! dress!' oh, he is a military
+man is a turkey cock: he wears long spurs, carries a
+stiff neck, and charges at red cloth, like a trooper.
+
+"Well then a little cowardly good natured cur, that lodged
+in an empty flour barrel, near the wood pile, gave out
+a long doleful howl, now and agin, to show these outside
+passengers, if he couldn't fight for 'em, he could at
+all events cry for 'em, and it ain't every goose has a
+mourner to her funeral, that's a fact, unless it be the
+owner.
+
+"In the mornin' I wakes up, and looks round for lawyer,
+but he was gone. So I gathers up the brans, and makes
+up the fire, and walks out. The pigs didn't try to come
+in agin, you may depend, when they see'd me; they didn't
+like the curlin' tongs, as much as some folks do, and
+pigs' tails kinder curl naterally. But there was lawyer
+a-standin' up by the grove, lookin' as peeked and as
+forlorn, as an onmated loon.
+
+"'What's the matter of you, Squire?' sais I. 'You look
+like a man that was ready to make a speech; but your
+witness hadn't come, or you hadn't got no jury.'
+
+"'Somebody has stole my horse,' said he.
+
+"Well, I know'd he was near-sighted, was lawyer, and
+couldn't see a pint clear of his nose, unless it was a
+pint o' law. So I looks all round and there was his
+hoss, a-standin' on the bridge, with his long tail hanging
+down straight at one eend, and his long neck and head a
+banging down straight at t'other eend, so that you couldn't
+tell one from t'other or which eend was towards you. It
+was a clear cold mornin'. The storm was over and the wind
+down, and there was a frost on the ground. The critter
+was cold I suppose, and had broke the rope and walked
+off to stretch his legs. It was a monstrous mean night
+to be out in, that's sartain.
+
+"'There is your hoss,' sais I.
+
+"'Where?' sais he.
+
+"'Why on the bridge,' sais I; "he has got his head down
+and is a-lookin' atween his fore-legs to see where his
+tail is, for he is so cold, I do suppose he can't feel
+it.'
+
+"Well, as soon as we could, we started ; but afore we
+left, sais the Judge to me, 'Mr. Slick,' sais he, 'here
+is a plaister,' taking out a pound note, 'a plaister for
+the skin the pig rubbed off of the old woman. Give it to
+her, I hope it is big enough to cover it.' And he fell
+back on the bed, and larfed and coughed, and coughed and
+larfed, till the tears ran down his cheeks.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Slick, "yes, Squire, this is a pretty
+cottage of Marm Hodgins; but we have cottages quite as
+pretty as this, our side of the water, arter all. They
+are not all like Obi Rafuses, the immigrant. The natives
+have different guess places, where you might eat off the
+floor a'most, all's so clean. P'raps we hante the hedges,
+and flowers, and vines and fixin's, and what-nots."
+
+"Which, alone," I said, "make a most important difference.
+No, Mr. Slick', there is nothing to be compared to this
+little cottage.
+
+"I perfectly agree with you, Squire," said Mr. Hopewell,
+"it is quite unique. There is not only nothing equal to
+it, but nothing of its kind at all like--_an English
+cottage_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+STEALING THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE.
+
+Shortly after our return to the inn, a carriage drove up
+to the door, and the cards of Mr. Merton, and the Reverend
+Mr. Homily, which were presented by the servant, were
+soon followed by the gentlemen themselves.
+
+Mr. Merton said he had been informed by Mrs. Hodgins of
+our visit to her cottage, and from her account of our
+conversation and persons, he was convinced we could be
+no other than the party described in the "Sayings and
+Doings of Mr. Samuel Slick," as about to visit England
+with the Attache. He expressed great pleasure in having
+the opportunity of making our acquaintance, and entreated
+us to spend a few days with him at the Priory. This
+invitation we were unfortunately compelled to decline,
+in consequence of urgent business in London, where our
+immediate presence was indispensable.
+
+The rector then pressed Mr. Hopewell to preach for him,
+on the following day at the parish church, which he also
+declined. He said, that he had no sermons with him, and
+that he had very great objections to extemporaneous
+preaching, which he thought should never be resorted to
+except in cases of absolute necessity. He, however, at
+last consented to do so, on condition that Mrs. Hodgins
+and her husband attended, and upon being assured that it
+was their invariable custom to be present, he said, he
+thought it not impossible, that he might make an impression
+upon _him_, and as it was his maxim never to omit an
+opportunity of doing good, he would with the blessing of
+God, make the attempt.
+
+The next day was remarkably fine, and as the scene was
+new to me, and most probably will be so to most of my
+colonial readers, I shall endeavour to describe it with
+some minuteness.
+
+We walked to the church by a path over the hills, and
+heard the bells of a number of little churches, summoning
+the surrounding population to the House of God. The roads
+and the paths were crowded with the peasantry and their
+children, approaching the church-yard in different
+directions. The church and the rectory were contiguous
+to each other, and situated in a deep dell.
+
+The former was a long and rather low structure, originally
+built of light coloured stone, which had grown grey with
+time. It had a large square steeple, with pointed corners,
+like turrets, each of which was furnished with a vane,
+but some of these ornaments were loose and turned round
+in a circle, while others stood still and appeared to be
+examining with true rustic curiosity, the condition of
+their neighbours.
+
+The old rectory stood close to the church and was very
+irregularly built, one part looking as if it had stepped
+forward to take a peep at us, and another as if endeavouring
+to conceal itself from view, behind a screen of ivy. The
+windows which were constructed of diamond-shaped glass,
+were almost square, and opened on hinges. Nearly half of
+the house was covered by a rose-tree, from which the
+lattices peered very inquisitively upon the assembled
+congregation. Altogether it looked like the residence
+of a vigilant man, who could both see and be unseen if
+he pleased.
+
+Near the door of the church were groups of men in their
+clean smock-frocks and straw hats, and of women in their
+tidy dark dresses and white aprons. The children all
+looked clean, healthy, and cheerful.
+
+The interior of the church was so unlike that of an
+American one, that my attention was irresistibly drawn
+to its peculiarities. It was low, and divided in the
+centre by an arch. The floor was of stone, and from long
+and constant use, very uneven in places. The pews were
+much higher on the sides than ours, and were unpainted
+and roughly put together; while the pulpit was a rude
+square box, and was placed in the corner. Near the door
+stood an ancient stone font, of rough workmanship, and
+much worn.
+
+The windows were long and narrow, and placed very high
+in the walls. On the one over the altar was a very old
+painting, on stained glass, of the Virgin, with a hoop
+and yellow petticoat, crimson vest, a fly cap, and very
+thick shoes. The light of this window was still further
+subdued by a fine old yew-tree, which stood in the yard
+close behind it.
+
+There was another window of beautifully stained glass,
+the light of which fell on a large monument, many feet
+square, of white marble. In the centre of this ancient
+and beautiful work of art, were two principal figures,
+with smaller ones kneeling on each side, having the hands
+raised in the attitude of prayer. They were intended to
+represent some of the ancestors of the Merton family.
+The date was as old as 1575. On various parts of the
+wall were other and ruder monuments of slate-stone,
+the inscriptions and dates of which were nearly
+effaced by time.
+
+The roof was of a construction now never seen in America;
+and the old oak rafters, which were more numerous, than
+was requisite, either for strength or ornament, were
+massive and curiously put together, giving this part of
+the building a heavy and gloomy appearance.
+
+As we entered the church, Mr. Hopewell said he had
+selected a text suitable to the times, and that he would
+endeavour to save the poor people in the neighbourhood
+from the delusions of the chartist demagogues, who, it
+appeared, were endeavouring to undermine the throne and
+the altar, and bring universal ruin upon the country.
+
+When he ascended the pulpit to preach, his figure, his
+great age, and his sensible and benevolent countenance,
+attracted universal attention. I had never seen him
+officiate till this day; but if I was struck with his
+venerable appearance before, I was now lost in admiration
+of his rich and deep-toned voice, his peculiar manner,
+and simple style of eloquence.
+
+He took for his text these words: "So Absalom stole the
+hearts of the men of Israel." He depicted, in a very
+striking manner, the arts of this intriguing and ungrateful
+man to ingratiate himself with the people, and render
+the government unpopular. He traced his whole course,
+from his standing at the crowded thoroughfare, and
+lamenting that the king had deputed no one to hear and
+decide upon the controversies of the people, to his
+untimely end, and the destruction of his ignorant followers.
+He made a powerful application of the seditious words of
+Absalom: "Oh that _I_ were a judge in the land, that
+every man which hath a suit or cause might come unto me,
+and _I_ would do him justice." He showed the effect of
+these empty and wicked promises upon his followers, who
+in the holy record of this unnatural rebellion are
+described as "men who went out in their simplicity, and
+knew not anything."
+
+He then said that similar arts were used in all ages for
+similar purposes; and that these professions of
+disinterested patriotism were the common pretences by
+which wicked men availed themselves of the animal force
+of those "who assemble in their simplicity, and know not
+any thing," to achieve their own personal aggrandisement,
+and warned them, to give no heed to such dishonest people.
+He then drew a picture of the real blessings they enjoyed
+in this happy country, which, though not without an
+admixture of evil, were as many and as great as the
+imperfect and unequal condition of man was capable either
+of imparting or receiving.
+
+Among the first of these, he placed the provision made
+by the state for the instruction of the poor, by means
+of an established Church. He said they would doubtless
+hear this wise and pious deed of their forefathers attacked
+also by unprincipled men; and falsehood and ridicule
+would be invoked to aid in the assault; but that he was
+a witness on its behalf, from the distant wilderness of
+North America, where the voice of gratitude was raised
+to England, whose missionaries had planted a church there
+similar to their own, and had proclaimed the glad tidings
+of salvation to those who would otherwise have still
+continued to live without its pale.
+
+He then pourtrayed in a rapid and most masterly manner
+the sin and the disastrous consequences of rebellion;
+pointed out the necessity that existed for vigilance and
+defined their respective duties to God, and to those who,
+by his permission, were set in authority over them; and
+concluded with the usual benediction, which, though I
+had heard it on similar occasions all my life, seemed
+now more efficacious, more paternal, and more touching
+than ever, when uttered by him, in his peculiarly
+patriarchal manner.
+
+The abstract I have just given, I regret to say, cannot
+convey any adequate idea of this powerful, excellent,
+and appropriate sermon. It was listened to with intense
+interest by the congregation, many of whom were affected
+to tears. In the afternoon we attended church again,
+when we heard a good, plain, and practical discourse from
+the rector; but, unfortunately, he had neither the talent,
+nor the natural eloquence of our friend, and, although
+it satisfied the judgment, it did not affect, the heart
+like that of the "Old Minister."
+
+At the door we met, on our return, Mrs. Hodgins. "Ah! my
+dear," said Mr. Hopewell, "how do you do? I am going to
+your cottage; but I am an old man now; take my arm--it
+will support me in my walk."
+
+It was thus that this good man, while honouring this poor
+woman, avoided the appearance of condescension, and
+received her arm as a favour to himself.
+
+She commenced thanking him for his sermon in the morning.
+She said it had convinced her William of the sin of the
+Chartist agitation, and that he had firmly resolved never
+to meet them again. It had saved him from ruin, and made
+her a happy woman.
+
+"Glad to hear it has done him good, my dear," said he;
+"it does me good, too, to hear its effect. Now, never
+remind him of past errors, never allude to them: make
+his home cheerful, make it the pleasantest place he can
+find any where, and he won't want to seek amusement
+elsewhere, or excitement either; for these seditious
+meetings intoxicate by their excitement. Oh! I am very
+glad I have touched him; that I have prevented these
+seditious men from 'stealing his heart.'"
+
+In this way they chatted, until they arrived at the
+cottage, which Hodgins had just reached by a shorter,
+but more rugged path.
+
+"It is such a lovely afternoon," said Mr. Hopewell, "I
+believe I will rest in this arbour here awhile, and enjoy
+the fresh breeze, and the perfume of your honeysuckles
+and flowers."
+
+"Wouldn't a pipe be better, Minister?" said Mr. Slick.
+"For my part, I don't think any thing equal to the flavour
+of rael good gene_wine_ first chop tobacco."
+
+"Well, it is a great refreshment, is tobacco," said Mr.
+Hopewell. "I don't care if I do take a pipe. Bring me
+one, Mr. Hodgins, and one for yourself also, and I will
+smoke and talk with you awhile, for they seem as natural
+to each other, as eating and drinking do."
+
+As soon as these were produced, Mr. Slick and I retired,
+and requested Mrs. Hodgins to leave the Minister and
+her husband together for a while, for as Mr. Slick
+observed, "The old man will talk it into him like a book;
+for if he was possessed of the spirit of a devil, instead
+of a Chartist, he is jist the boy to drive it out of
+him. Let him be awhile, and he'll tame old uncle there,
+like a cossit sheep; jist see if he don't, that's all."
+
+We then walked up and down the shady lane, smoking our
+cigars, and Mr. Slick observed, "Well, there is a nation
+sight of difference, too, ain't there, atween this country
+church, and a country meetin' house our side of the water;
+I won't say in your country or my country; but I say
+_our_ side of the water--and then it won't rile nobody;
+for your folks will say I mean the States, and our citizens
+will say I mean the colonies; but you and I know who the
+cap fits, one or t'other, or both, don't we?
+
+"Now here, this old-fashioned church, ain't quite up to
+the notch, and is a leetle behind the enlightment of the
+age like, with its queer old fixin's and what not; but
+still it looks solemcoly' don't it, and the dim light
+seems as if we warn't expected to be a lookin' about,
+and as if outer world was shot out, from sight and thort,
+and it warn't _man's_ house nother.
+
+"I don't know whether it was that dear old man's preachin',
+and he is a brick ain't he? or, whether it's the place,
+or the place and him together; but somehow, or somehow
+else, I feel more serious to-day than common, that's a
+fact. The people too are all so plain dressed, so decent,
+so devout and no show, it looks like airnest.
+
+"The only fashionable people here was the Squire's
+sarvants; and they _did_ look genteel, and no mistake.
+Elegant men, and most splendid lookin' women they was
+too. I thought it was some noble, or aid's, or big bug's
+family; but Mrs. Hodgins says they are the people of the
+Squire's about here, the butlers and ladies' maids; and
+superfine uppercrust lookin' folks they be too.
+
+"Then every body walks here, even Squire Merton and his
+splendiriferous galls walked like the poorest of the
+poor, there was no carriage to the door, nor no hosses
+hitched to the gate, or tied to the back of waggons, or
+people gossipin' outside; but all come in and minded
+their business, as if it was worth attendin' to; and then
+arter church was finished off, I liked the way the big
+folks talked to the little folks, and enquired arter
+their families. It may he actin', but if it is, it's
+plaguy good actin', I _tell_ you.
+
+"I'm a thinkin' it tante a rael gentleman that's proud,
+but only a hop. You've seen a hop grow, hante you? It
+shoots up in a night, the matter of several inches right
+out of the ground, as stiff as a poker, straight up and
+down, with a spick and span new green coat and a red
+nose, as proud as Lucifer. Well, I call all upstarts
+'hops,' and I believe it's only "hops" arter all that's
+scorny.
+
+"Yes, I kinder like an English country church, only it's
+a leetle, jist a leetle too old fashioned for me. Folks
+look a leetle too much like grandfather Slick, and the
+boys used to laugh at him, and call him a benighted
+Britisher. Perhaps that's the cause of my prejudice, and
+yet I must say, British or no British, it tante bad, is
+it?
+
+"The meetin' houses 'our side of the water,' no matter
+where, but away up in the back country, how teetotally
+different they be! bean't they? A great big, handsome
+wooden house, chock full of winders, painted so white as
+to put your eyes out, and so full of light within, that
+inside seems all out-doors, and no tree nor bush, nor
+nothin' near it but the road fence, with a man to preach
+in it, that is so strict and straight-laced he will do
+_any thing_ of a week day, and _nothin'_ of a Sunday.
+Congregations are rigged out in their spic and span bran
+new clothes, silks, satins, ribbins, leghorns, palmetters,
+kiss-me-quicks, and all sorts of rigs, and the men in
+their long-tail-blues, pig-skin pads calf-skin boots and
+sheep-skin saddle-cloths. Here they publish a book of
+fashions, there they publish 'em in meetin'; and instead
+of a pictur, have the rael naked truth.
+
+"Preacher there don't preach morals, because that's
+churchy, and he don't like neither the church nor its
+morals; but he preaches doctrine, which doctrine is,
+there's no Christians but themselves. Well, the fences
+outside of the meetin' house, for a quarter of a mile or
+so, each side of the house, and each side of the road,
+ain't to be seen for hosses and waggons, and gigs hitched
+there; poor devils of hosses that have ploughed, or
+hauled, or harrowed, or logged, or snaked, or somethin'
+or another all the week, and rest of a Sunday by alterin'
+their gait, as a man rests on a journey by a alterin' of
+his sturup, a hole higher or a hole lower. Women that
+has all their finery on can't walk, and some things is
+ondecent. It's as ondecent for a woman to be seen walkin'
+to meetin', as it is to be caught at--what shall I
+say?--why caught at attendin' to her business to home.
+
+"The women are the fust and the last to meetin'; fine
+clothes cost sunthin', and if they ain't showed, what's
+the use of them? The men folk remind me of the hosses to
+Sable Island. It's a long low sand-bank on Nova Scotia
+coast, thirty miles long and better is Sable Island, and
+not much higher than the water. It has awful breakers
+round it, and picks up a shockin' sight of vessels does
+that island. Government keeps a super-intender there and
+twelve men to save wracked people, and there is a herd
+of three hundred wild hosses kept there for food for
+saved crews that land there, when provision is short, or
+for super-intender to catch and break for use, as the
+case may be.
+
+"Well, if he wants a new hoss, he mounts his folks on
+his tame hosses, and makes a dash into the herd, and runs
+a wild feller down, lugs him off to the stable-yard, and
+breaks him in, in no time. A smart little hoss he is too,
+but he always has an _eye to natur'_ arterwards; _the
+change is too sudden_, and he'll off, if he gets a chance.
+
+"Now that's the case with these country congregations,
+we know where. The women and old tame men folk are,
+inside; the young wild boys and ontamed men folk are on
+the fences, outside a settin' on the top rail, a speculatin'
+on times or marriages, or markets, or what not, or a
+walkin' round and studyin' hoss flesh, or a talkin' of
+a swap to be completed of a Monday, or a leadin' off of
+two hosses on the sly of the old deacon's, takin' a lick
+of a half mile on a bye road, right slap a-head, and
+swearin' the hosses had got loose, and they was just a
+fetchin' of them back.
+
+"'Whose side-saddle is this?'
+
+"'Slim Sall Dowdie's.'
+
+"'Shift it on to the deacon's beast, and put his on to
+her'n and tie the two critters together by the tail. This
+is old Mother Pitcher's waggon; her hoss kicks like a
+grasshopper. Lengthen the breechin', and when aunty
+starts, he'll make all fly agin into shavin's, like a
+plane. Who is that a comin' along full split there a
+horseback?'
+
+"'It's old Booby's son, Tom. Well, it's the old man's
+shaft hoss; call out whoh! and he'll stop short, and
+pitch Tom right over his head on the broad of his back,
+whap.
+
+"Tim Fish, and Ned Pike, come scale up here with us boys
+on the fence.' The weight is too great; away goes the
+fence, and away goes the boys, all flyin'; legs, arms,
+hats, poles, stakes, withes, and all, with an awful crash
+and an awful shout; and away goes two or three hosses
+that have broke their bridles, and off home like wink.
+
+"Out comes Elder Sourcrout. 'Them as won't come in had
+better stay to home,' sais he. And when he hears that
+them as are in had better stay in when they be there, he
+takes the hint and goes back agin. 'Come, boys, let's go
+to Black Stump Swamp and sarch for honey. We shall be
+back in time to walk home with the galls from night
+meetin', by airly candle-light. Let's go.'
+
+"Well, when they want to recruit the stock of tame ones
+inside meetin', they sarcumvent some o' these wild ones
+outside; make a dash on 'em, catch 'em, dip 'em, and give
+'em a name; for all sects don't always baptise 'em as we
+do, when children, but let 'em grow up wild in the herd
+till they are wanted. They have hard work to break 'em
+in, for they are smart ones, that's a fact, but, like
+the hosses of Sable Island, they have always _an eye to
+natur'_ arterwards; _the change is too sudden_, you can't
+trust 'em, at least I never see one as _I_ could, that's
+all.
+
+"Well, when they come out o' meetin', look at the dignity
+and sanctity, and pride o' humility o' the tame old ones.
+Read their faces. 'How does the print go?' Why this way,
+'I am a sinner, at least I was once, but thank fortin'
+I ain't like you, you onconverted, benighted,
+good-for-nothin' critter you.' Read the ontamed one's
+face, what's the print there? Why it's this. As soon as
+he sees over-righteous stalk by arter that fashion, it
+says, 'How good we are, ain't we? Who wet his hay to
+the lake tother day, on his way to market, and made two
+tons weigh two tons and a half? You'd better look as if
+butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, hadn't you, old
+Sugar-cane?'
+
+"Now jist foller them two rulin' elders, Sourcrout and
+Coldslaugh; they are plaguy jealous of their neighbour,
+elder Josh Chisel, that exhorted to-day. 'How did you
+like Brother Josh, to-day?' says Sourcrout, a utterin'
+of it through his nose. Good men always speak through
+the nose. It's what comes out o' the mouth that defiles
+a man; but there is no mistake in the nose; it's the
+porch of the temple that. 'How did you like Brother Josh?'
+
+"'Well, he wasn't very peeowerful.'
+
+"'Was he ever peeowerful?'
+
+"'Well, when a boy, they say he was considerable sum as
+a wrastler.'
+
+"Sourcrout won't larf, because it's agin rules; but he
+gig goggles like a turkey-cock, and says he, 'It's for
+ever and ever the same thing with Brother Josh. He is
+like an over-shot mill, one everlastin' wishy-washy
+stream.'
+
+"'When the water ain't quite enough to turn the wheel,
+and only spatters, spatters, spatters,' says Coldslaugh.
+
+"Sourcrout gig goggles again, as if he was swallerin'
+shelled corn whole. 'That trick of wettin' the hay,' says
+he, 'to make it weigh heavy, warn't cleverly done; it
+ain't pretty to be caught; it's only bunglers do that.'
+
+"'He is so fond of temperance,' says Coldslaugh, 'he
+wanted to make his hay jine society, and drink cold water,
+too.'
+
+"Sourcrout gig goggles ag'in, till he takes a fit of the
+asmy, sets down on a stump, claps both hands on his sides,
+and coughs, and coughs till he finds coughing no joke no
+more. Oh dear, dear convarted men, though they won't larf
+themselves, make others larf the worst kind, sometimes;
+don't they?
+
+"I do believe, on my soul, if religion was altogether
+left to the voluntary in this world, it would die a
+nateral death; not that _men wouldn't support it_, but
+because it would be supported _under false pretences_.
+Truth can't be long upheld by falsehood. Hypocrisy would
+change its features, and intolerance its name; and religion
+would soon degenerate into a cold, intriguing, onprincipled,
+marciless superstition, that's a fact.
+
+"Yes, on the whole, I rather like these plain, decent,
+onpretendin', country churches here, although t'other
+ones remind me of old times, when I was an ontamed one
+too. Yes, I like an English church; but as for Minister
+pretendin' for to come for to go for to preach agin that
+beautiful long-haired young rebel, Squire Absalom, for
+'stealin' the hearts of the people,' why it's rather
+takin' the rag off the bush, ain't it?
+
+"Tell you what, Squire; there ain't a man in their whole
+church here, from Lord Canter Berry that preaches afore
+the Queen, to Parson Homily that preached afore us, nor
+never was, nor never will be equal to Old Minister hisself
+for 'stealin' the hearts of the people.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+NATUR'.
+
+In the course of our journey, the conversation turned
+upon the several series of the "Clockmaker" I had published,
+and their relative merits. Mr. Slick appeared to think
+they all owed their popularity mainly to the freshness
+and originality of character incidental to a new country.
+
+"You are in the wrong pew here, Squire," said he; "you
+are, upon my soul. If you think to sketch the English in
+a way any one will stop to look at, you have missed a
+figur', that's all. You can't do it nohow; you can't fix
+it. There is no contrasts here, no variation of colours,
+no light and shade, no nothin'. What sort of a pictur'
+would straight lines of any thing make? Take a parcel of
+sodjers, officers and all, and stretch 'em out in a row,
+and paint 'em, and then engrave 'em, and put it into one
+of our annuals, and see how folks would larf, and ask,
+'What boardin'-school gall did that? Who pulled her up
+out of standin' corn, and sot her up on eend for an
+artist? they'd say.
+
+"There is nothin' here to take hold on. It's so plaguy
+smooth and high polished, the hands slip off; you can't
+get a grip of it. Now, take Lord First Chop, who is the
+most fashionable man in London, dress him in the last
+cut coat, best trowsers, French boots, Paris gloves, and
+grape-vine-root cane, don't forget his whiskers, or
+mous-stache, or breast-pins, or gold chains, or any thing;
+and what have you got?--a tailor's print-card, and nothin'
+else.
+
+"Take a lady, and dress her in a'most a beautiful long
+habit, man's hat, stand-up collar and stock, clap a
+beautiful little cow-hide whip in her hand, and mount
+her on a'most a splendiferous white hoss, with long tail
+and flowin' mane, a rairin' and a cavortin' like mad,
+and a champin' and a chawin' of its bit, and makin' the
+froth fly from its mouth, a spatterin' and white-spottin'
+of her beautiful trailin', skirt like any thing. And what
+have you got?--why a print like the posted hand-bills of
+a circus.
+
+"Now spit on your fingers, and rub Lord First Chop out
+of the slate, and draw an Irish labourer, with his coat
+off, in his shirt-sleeves, with his breeches loose and
+ontied at the knees, his yarn stockings and thick shoes
+on; a little dudeen in his mouth, as black as ink and as
+short as nothin'; his hat with devilish little rim and
+no crown to it, and a hod on his shoulders, filled with
+bricks, and him lookin' as if he was a singin' away as
+merry as a cricket:
+
+ When I was young and unmarried,
+ my shoes they were new.
+ But now I am old and am married,
+ the water runs troo,'
+
+Do that, and you have got sunthin' worth lookin' at,
+quite pictures-quee, as Sister Sall used to say. And
+because why? _You have got sunthin' nateral_.
+
+"Well, take the angylyferous dear a horseback, and rub
+her out, well, I won't say that nother, for I'm fond of
+the little critturs, dressed or not dressed for company,
+or any way they like, yes, I like woman-natur', I tell
+_you_. But turn over the slate, and draw on t'other side
+on't an old woman, with a red cloak, and a striped
+petticoat, and a poor pinched-up, old, squashed-in bonnet
+on, bendin' forrard, with a staff in her hand, a leadin'
+of a donkey that has a pair of yaller willow saddle-bags
+on, with coloured vegetables and flowers, and red beet-tops,
+a goin' to market. And what have you got? Why a pictur'
+worth lookin' at, too. Why?--_because it's natur'_.
+
+"Now, look here, Squire; let Copley, if he was alive,
+but he ain't; and it's a pity too, for it would have
+kinder happified the old man, to see his son in the House
+of Lords, wouldn't it? Squire Copley, you know, was a
+Boston man; and a credit to our great nation too. P'raps
+Europe never has dittoed him since.
+
+"Well, if he was above ground now, alive, and stirrin',
+why take him and fetch him to an upper crust London party;
+and sais you, 'Old Tenor,' sais you, 'paint all them
+silver plates, and silver dishes, and silver coverlids,
+and what nots; and then paint them lords with their
+_stars_, and them ladies' (Lord if he would paint them
+with their garters, folks would buy the pictur, cause
+that's nateral) 'them ladies with their jewels, and their
+sarvants with their liveries, as large as life, and twice
+as nateral.'
+
+"Well, he'd paint it, if you paid him for it, that's a
+fact; for there is no better bait to fish for us Yankees
+arter all, than a dollar. That old boy never turned up
+his nose at a dollar, except when he thought he ought to
+get two. And if he painted it, it wouldn't be bad, I
+tell _you_.
+
+"'Now,' sais you, 'you have done high life, do low life
+for me, and I will pay you well. I'll come down hansum,
+and do the thing genteel, you may depend. Then,' sais
+you, 'put in for a back ground that noble, old Noah-like
+lookin' wood, that's as dark as comingo. Have you done?'
+sais you.
+
+"'I guess so,' sais he.
+
+"'Then put in a brook jist in front of it, runnin' over
+stones, and foamin' and a bubblin' up like any thing.'
+
+"'It's in,' sais he.
+
+"'Then jab two forked sticks in the ground ten feet apart,
+this side of the brook,' sais you, 'and clap a pole across
+atween the forks. Is that down?' sais you.
+
+"'Yes,' sais he.
+
+"'Then,' sais you, 'hang a pot on that horizontal pole,
+make a clear little wood fire onderneath; paint two
+covered carts near it. Let an old hoss drink at the
+stream, and two donkeys make a feed off a patch of
+thistles. Have-you stuck that in?'
+
+"'Stop a bit,' says he, 'paintin' an't quite as fast done
+as writin'. Have a little grain of patience, will you?
+It's tall paintin', makin' the brush walk at that price.
+Now there you are,' sais he. 'What's next? But, mind
+I've most filled my canvass; it will cost you a pretty
+considerable penny, if you want all them critters in,
+when I come to cypher all the pictur up, and sumtotalize
+the whole of it.'
+
+"'Oh! cuss the cost!' sais you. 'Do you jist obey orders,
+and break owners, that's all you have to do, Old Loyalist.'
+
+"'Very well,' sais he, 'here goes.'
+
+"'Well, then,' sais you, 'paint a party of gipsies there;
+mind their different coloured clothes, and different
+attitudes, and different occupations. Here a man mendin'
+a harness, there a woman pickin' a stolen fowl, there a
+man skinnin' a rabbit, there a woman with her petticoat
+up, a puttin' of a patch in it. Here two boys a fishin',
+and there a little gall a playin' with a dog, that's a
+racin' and a yelpin', and a barkin' like mad.'
+
+"'Well, when he's done,' sais you, 'which pictur do you
+reckon is the best now, Squire Copely? speak candid for
+I want to know, and I ask you now as a countryman.'
+
+"'Well' he'll jist up and tell you, 'Mr. Poker,' sais
+he, 'your fashionable party is the devil, that's a fact.
+Man made the town, but God made the country. Your company
+is as formal, and as stiff, and as oninterestin' as a
+row of poplars; but your gipsy scene is beautiful, because
+it's nateral. It was me painted old Chatham's death in
+the House of Lords; folks praised it a good deal; but it
+was no great shakes, _there was no natur' in it_. The
+scene was real, the likenesses was good, and there was
+spirit in it, but their damned uniform toggery, spiled
+the whole thing--it was artificial, and wanted life and
+natur. Now, suppose, such a thing in Congress, or suppose
+some feller skiverd the speaker with a bowie knife as
+happened to Arkansaw, if I was to paint it, it would be
+beautiful. Our free and enlightened people is so different,
+so characteristic and peculiar, it would give a great
+field to a painter. To sketch the different style of man
+of each state, so that any citizen would sing right out;
+Heavens and airth if that don't beat all! Why, as I am
+a livin' sinner that's the Hoosier of Indiana, or the
+Sucker of Illinois, or the Puke of Missouri, or the Bucky
+of Ohio, or the Red Horse of Kentucky, or the Mudhead of
+Tennesee, or the Wolverine of Michigan or the Eel of New
+England, or the Corn Cracker of Virginia! That's the
+thing that gives inspiration. That's the glass of talabogus
+that raises your spirits. There is much of elegance,
+and more of comfort in England. It is a great and a good
+country, Mr. Poker, but there is no natur in it.'
+
+"It is as true as gospel," said Mr. Slick, "I'm tellin'
+you no lie. It's a fact. If you expect to paint them
+English, as you have the Blue-Noses and us, you'll pull
+your line up without a fish, oftener than you are a-thinkin'
+on; that's the reason all our folks have failed. 'Rush's
+book is jist molasses and water, not quite so sweet as
+'lasses, and not quite so good as water; but a spilin'
+of both. And why? His pictur was of polished life, where
+there is no natur. Washington Irving's book is like a
+Dutch paintin', it is good, because it is faithful; the
+mop has the right number of yarns, and each yarn has the
+right number of twists, (altho' he mistook the mop of
+the grandfather, for the mop of the man of the present
+day) and the pewter plates are on the kitchen dresser,
+and the other little notions are all there. He has done
+the most that could be done for them, but the painter
+desarves more praise than the subject.
+
+"Why is it every man's sketches of America takes? Do you
+suppose it is the sketches? No. Do you reckon it is the
+interest we create? No. Is it our grand experiments? No.
+They don't care a brass button for us, or our country,
+or experiments nother. What is it then? It is because
+they are sketches of natur. Natur in every grade and
+every variety of form; from the silver plate, and silver
+fork, to the finger and huntin' knife. Our artificials
+Britishers laugh at; they are bad copies, that's a fact;
+I give them up. Let them laugh, and be darned; but I
+stick to my natur, and I stump them to produce the like.
+
+"Oh, Squire, if you ever sketch me, for goodness gracious
+sake, don't sketch me as an Attache to our embassy, with
+the Legation button, on the coat, and black Jube Japan
+in livery. Don't do that; but paint me in my old waggon
+to Nova Scotier, with old Clay before me, you by my side,
+a segar in my mouth, and natur all round me. And if that
+is too artificial; oh, paint me in the back woods, with
+my huntin' coat on, my leggins, my cap, my belt, and my
+powder-horn. Paint me with my talkin' iron in my hand,
+wipin' her, chargin' her, selectin' the bullet, placin'
+it in the greased wad, and rammin' it down. Then draw a
+splendid oak openin' so as to give a good view, paint a
+squirrel on the tip top of the highest branch, of the
+loftiest tree, place me off at a hundred yards, drawin'
+a bead on him fine, then show the smoke, and young squire
+squirrel comin' tumblin' down head over heels lumpus',
+to see whether the ground was as hard as dead squirrels
+said it was. Paint me nateral, I besech you; for I tell
+you now, as I told you before, and ever shall say, there
+is nothin' worth havin' or knowin', or hearin', or readin',
+or seein', or tastin', or smellin', or feelin' and above
+all and more than all, nothin' worth affectionin' but
+_Natur_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE SOCDOLAGER.
+
+As soon as I found my friend Mr. Hopewell comfortably
+settled in his lodgings, I went to the office of the
+Belgian Consul and other persons to obtain the necessary
+passports for visiting Germany, where I had a son at
+school. Mr. Slick proceeded at the same time to the
+residence of his Excellency Abednego Layman, who had been
+sent to this country by the United States on a special
+mission, relative to the Tariff.
+
+On my return from the city in the afternoon, he told me
+he had presented his credentials to "the Socdolager,"
+and was most graciously and cordially received; but still,
+I could not fail to observe that there was an evident
+air of disappointment about him.
+
+"Pray, what is the meaning of the Socdolager?" I asked.
+"I never heard of the term before."
+
+"Possible!" said he, "never heerd tell of 'the Socdolager,'
+why you don't say so! The Socdolager is the President of
+the lakes--he is the whale of the intarnal seas--the
+Indgians worshipped him once on a time, as the king of
+fishes. He lives in great state in the deep waters, does
+the old boy, and he don't often shew himself. I never
+see'd him myself, nor any one that ever had sot eyes on
+him; but the old Indgians have see'd him and know him
+well. He won't take no bait, will the Socdolager; he
+can't be caught, no how you can fix, he is so 'tarnal
+knowin', and he can't be speared nother, for the moment
+he sees aim taken, he ryles the water and is out of sight
+in no tune. _He_ can take in whole shoals of others
+hisself, tho' at a mouthful. He's a whapper, that's a
+fact. I call our Minister here 'the Socdolager,' for our
+_di_plomaters were never known to be hooked once yet,
+and actilly beat all natur' for knowin' the soundin's,
+smellin' the bait, givin' the dodge, or rylin' the water;
+so no soul can see thro' it but themselves. Yes, he is
+'a Socdolager,' or a whale among _di_plomaters.
+
+"Well, I rigs up this morning, full fig, calls a cab,
+and proceeds in state to our embassy, gives what Cooper
+calls a lord's beat of six thund'rin' raps of the knocker,
+presents the legation ticket, and was admitted to where
+ambassador was. He is a very pretty man all up his shirt,
+and he talks pretty, and smiles pretty, and bows pretty,
+and he has got the whitest hand you ever see, it looks
+as white, as a new bread and milk poultice. It does
+indeed.
+
+"'Sam Slick,' sais he, 'as I'm alive. Well, how do you
+do, Mr. Slick? I am 'nation glad to see you, I affection
+you as a member of our legation. I feel kinder proud to
+have the first literary man of our great nation as my
+Attache.'
+
+"'Your knowledge of human natur, (added to your'n of soft
+sawder,' sais I,) 'will raise our great nation, I guess,
+in the scale o' European estimation.'
+
+"He is as sensitive as a skinned eel, is Layman, and he
+winced at that poke at his soft sawder like any thing,
+and puckered a little about the mouth, but he didn't say
+nothin', he only bowed. He was a Unitarian preacher once,
+was Abednego, but he swapt preachin' for politics, and
+a good trade he made of it too; that's a fact.
+
+"'A great change,' sais I, 'Abednego, since you was a
+preachin' to Connecticut and I was a vendin' of clocks
+to Nova Scotia, ain't it? Who'd a thought then, you'd a
+been "a Socdolager," and me your "pilot fish," eh!'
+
+"It was a raw spot, that, and I always touched him on it
+for fun.
+
+"'Sam,' said he, and his face fell like an empty puss,
+when it gets a few cents put into each eend on it, the
+weight makes it grow twice as long in a minute. 'Sam,'
+said he, 'don't call me that are, except when we are
+alone here, that's a good soul; not that I am proud, for
+I am a true Republican;' and he put his hand on his heart,
+bowed and smiled hansum, 'but these people will make a
+nickname of it, and we shall never hear the last of it;
+that's a fact. We must respect ourselves, afore others
+will respect us. You onderstand, don't you?'
+
+"'Oh, don't I,' sais I, 'that's all? It's only here I
+talks this way, because we are at home now; but I can't
+help a thinkin' how strange things do turn up sometimes.
+Do you recollect, when I heard you a-preachin' about Hope
+a-pitchin' of her tent on a hill? By gosh, it struck me
+then, you'd pitch, your tent high some day; you did it
+beautiful.'
+
+"He know'd I didn't like this change, that Mr. Hopewell
+had kinder inoculated me with other guess views on these
+matters, so he began to throw up bankments and to picket
+in the ground, all round for defence like.
+
+"'Hope,' sais he, 'is the attribute of a Christian, Slick,
+for he hopes beyond this world; but I changed on principle.'
+
+"'Well,' sais I, 'I changed on interest; now if our great
+nation is backed by principal and interest here, I guess
+its credit is kinder well built. And atween you and me,
+Abednego, that's more than the soft-horned British will
+ever see from all our States. Some on 'em are intarmined
+to pay neither debt nor interest, and give nothin' but
+lip in retarn.'
+
+"'Now,' sais he, a pretendin' to take no notice of this,'
+you know we have the Voluntary with us, Mr. Slick.' He
+said "_Mister_" that time, for he began to get formal on
+puppus to stop jokes; but, dear me, where all men are
+equal what's the use of one man tryin' to look big? He
+must take to growin' agin I guess to do that. 'You know
+we have the Voluntary with us, Mr. Slick,' sais he.
+
+"'Jist so,' sais I.
+
+"'Well, what's the meanin' of that?'
+
+"'Why,' sais I, 'that you support religion or let it
+alone, as you like; that you can take it up as a pedlar
+does his pack, carry it till you are tired, then lay it
+down, set on it, and let it support you."
+
+"'Exactly,' sais he; 'it is voluntary on the hearer, and
+it's jist so with the minister, too; for his preachin'
+is voluntary also. He can preach or lot it alone, as he
+likes. It's voluntary all through. It's a bad rule that
+won't work both ways.'
+
+"'Well,' says I, 'there is a good deal in that, too.' I
+said that just to lead him on.
+
+"'A good deal!' sais he, 'why it's every thing. But I
+didn't rest on that alone; I propounded this maxim to
+myself. Every man, sais I, is bound to sarve his fellow
+citizens to his utmost. That's true; ain't it, Mr. Slick?'
+
+"'Guess so,' sais I.
+
+"'Well then, I asked myself this here question: Can I
+sarve my fellow citizens best by bein' minister to Peach
+settlement, 'tendin' on a little village of two thousand
+souls, and preachin' my throat sore, or bein' special
+minister to Saint Jimses, and sarvin' our great Republic
+and its thirteen millions? Why, no reasonable man can
+doubt; so I give up preachin'.'
+
+"'Well,' sais I, 'Abednego, you are a Socdolager, that's
+a fact; you are a great man, and a great scholard. Now
+a great scholard, when he can't do a sum the way it's
+stated, jist states it so--he _can_ do it. Now the right
+way to state that sum is arter this fashion: "Which is
+best, to endeavour to save the souls of two thousand
+people under my spiritual charge, or let them go to Old
+Nick and save a piece of wild land in Maine, get pay for
+an old steamer burnt to Canada, and uphold the slave
+trade for the interest of the States.'
+
+"'That's specious, but not true,' said he; 'but it's a
+matter rather for my consideration than your'n,' and he
+looked as a feller does when he buttons his trowsers'
+pocket, as much as to say, you have no right to be a
+puttin' of your pickers and stealers in there, that's
+mine. 'We will do better to be less selfish,' said he,
+'and talk of our great nation.'
+
+"'Well,' says I, 'how do we stand here in Europe? Do we
+maintain the high pitch we had, or do we sing a note
+lower than we did?'
+
+"Well, he walked up and down the room, with his hands
+onder his coat-tails, for ever so long, without a sayin'
+of a word. At last, sais he, with a beautiful smile that
+was jist skin deep, for it played on his face as a
+cat's-paw does on the calm waters, 'What was you a sayin.'
+of, Mr. Slick?' saw he.
+
+"'What's our position to Europe?' sais I, 'jist now; is
+it letter A, No. 1?'
+
+"'Oh!' sais he, and he walked up and down agin, cypherin'
+like to himself; and then says he, 'I'll tell you; that
+word Socdolager, and the trade of preachin', and
+clockmakin', it would he as well to sink here; neither
+on 'em convene with dignity. Don't you think so?'
+
+"'Sartainly,' sais I; 'it's only fit for talk over a
+cigar, alone. It don't always answer a good, purpose to
+blart every thing out. But our _po_sition,' says I, among
+the nations of the airth, is it what our everlastin'
+Union is entitled to?'
+
+"'Because,' sais he, 'some day when I am asked out to
+dinner, some wag or another of a lord will call me parson,
+and ask me to crave a blessin', jist to raise the larf
+agin me for havin' been a preacher.'
+
+"'If he does,' sais I,' jist say, my Attache does that,
+and I'll jist up first and give it to him atween the two
+eyes; and when that's done, sais you, my Lord, that's
+_your grace_ afore meat; pr'aps your lordship will _return
+thanks_ arter dinner. Let him try it, that's all. But
+our great nation,' sais I, 'tell me, hante that noble
+stand we made on the right of sarch, raised us about the
+toploftiest?'
+
+"'Oh,' says he 'right of sarch! right of sarch! I've been
+tryin' to sarch my memory, but can't find it. I don't
+recollect that sarmont about Hope pitchin' her tent on
+the hill. When was it?'
+
+"'It was afore the juvenile-united-democratic-republican
+association to Funnel Hall,' sais I.
+
+"'Oh,' says he, 'that was an oration--it was an oration
+that.'
+
+"Oh!" sais I, "we won't say no more about that; I only
+meant it as a joke, and nothin' more. But railly now,
+Abednego, what is the state of our legation?"
+
+"'I don't see nothin' ridikilous,' sais he, 'in that are
+expression, of Hope pitchin' her tent on a hill. It's
+figurativ' and poetic, but it's within the line that
+divides taste from bombast. Hope pitchin' her tent on a
+hill! What is there to reprehend in that?'
+
+"Good airth and seas,' sais I, 'let's pitch Hope, and
+her tent, and the hill, all to Old Nick in a heap together,
+and talk of somethin' else. You needn't be so perkily
+ashamed of havin' preached, man. Cromwell was a great
+preacher all his life, but it didn't spile him as a
+Socdolager one bit, but rather helped him, that's a fact.
+How 'av we held our footin' here?'
+
+"'Not well, I am grieved to say,' sais he; 'not well.
+The failure of the United States' Bank, the repudiation
+of debts by several of our States, the foolish opposition
+we made to the suppression of the slave-trade, and above
+all, the bad faith in the business of the boundary question
+has lowered us down, down, e'en a'most to the bottom of
+the shaft.'
+
+"'Abednego,' sais I, 'we want somethin' besides boastin'
+and talkin' big; we want a dash--a great stroke of policy.
+Washington hanging Andre that time, gained more than a
+battle. Jackson by hanging Arbuthnot and Anbristher,
+gained his election. M'Kennie for havin' hanged them
+three citizens will be made an admiral of yet, see if he
+don't. Now if Captain Tyler had said, in his message to
+Congress, 'Any State that repudiates its foreign debts,
+we will first fine it in the whole amount, and then cut
+it off from our great, free, enlightened, moral and
+intellectual republic, he would have gained by the dash
+his next election, and run up our flag to the mast-head
+in Europe. He would have been popular to home, and
+respected abroad, that's as clear as mud,'
+
+"'He would have done right, Sir, if he had done that,'
+said Abednego, 'and the right thing is always approved
+of in the eend, and always esteemed all through the piece.
+A dash, as a stroke of policy,' said he, 'has sometimes
+a good effect. General Jackson threatening France with
+a war, if they didn't pay the indemnity, when he knew
+the King would make 'em pay it whether or no, was a
+masterpiece; and General Cass tellin' France if she signed
+the right of sarch treaty, we would fight both her and
+England together single-handed, was the best move on the
+political chess-board, this century. All these, Sir, are
+very well in their way, to produce an effect; but there's
+a better policy nor all that, a far better policy, and
+one, too, that some of our States and legislators, and
+presidents, and Socdolagers, as you call 'em, in my mind
+have got to larn yet, Sam.'
+
+"'What's that?' sais I. "For I don't believe in my soul
+there is nothin' a'most our diplomaters don't know. They
+are a body o' men that does honour to our great nation.
+What policy are you a indicatin' of?'
+
+"'Why,' sais he, '_that honesty is the best policy_.'
+
+"When I heerd him say that, I springs right up on eend,
+like a rope dancer. 'Give me your hand, Abednego,' sais
+I; 'you are a man, every inch of you,' and I squeezed it
+so hard, it made his eyes water. 'I always knowed you
+had an excellent head-piece,' sais I, 'and now I see the
+heart is in the right place too. If you have thrown
+preachin' overboard, you have kept your morals for ballast,
+any how. I feel kinder proud of you; you are jist a fit
+representat_ive_ for our great nation. You are a Socdolager,
+that's a fact. I approbate your notion; it's as correct
+as a bootjack. For nations or individuals, it's all the
+same, honesty _is_ the best policy, and no mistake. That,'
+sais I, 'is the hill, Abednego, for Hope to pitch her
+tent on, and no mistake,' and I put my finger to my nose,
+and winked.
+
+"'Well,' sais he, 'it is; but you are a droll feller,
+Slick, there is no standin' your jokes. I'll give you
+leave to larf if you like, but you must give me leave to
+win if I can. Good bye. But mind, Sam, our dignity is at
+stake. Let's have no more of Socdolagers, or Preachin',
+or Clockmakin', or Hope pitchin' her tent. A word to
+the wise. Good bye.'
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Slick, "I rather like Abednego's talk
+myself. I kinder think that it will be respectable to be
+Attache to such a man as that. But he is goin' out of
+town for some time, is the Socdolager. There is an
+agricultural dinner, where he has to make a conciliation
+speech; and a scientific association, where there is a
+piece of delicate brag and a bit of soft sawder to do,
+and then there are visits to the nobility, peep at
+manufactures, and all that sort of work, so he won't be
+in town for a good spell, and until then, I can't go to
+Court, for he is to introduce me himself. Pity that, but
+then it'll give me lots o' time to study human natur,
+that is, if there is any of it left here, for I have some
+doubts about that. Yes, he is an able lead horse, is
+Abednego; he is a'most a grand preacher, a good poet, a
+first chop orator, a great diplomater, and a top sawyer
+of a man, in short--he _is_ a _Socdolager_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+DINING OUT.
+
+My visit to Germany was protracted beyond the period I
+had originally designed; and, during my absence, Mr.
+Slick had been constantly in company, either "dining out"
+daily, when in town, or visiting from one house to another
+in the country.
+
+I found him in great spirits. He assured me he had many
+capital stories to tell me, and that he rather guessed
+he knew as much of the English, and a leetle, jist a
+leetle, grain more, p'raps, than they knew of the Yankees.
+
+"They are considerable large print are the Bull family,"
+said he; "you can read them by moonlight. Indeed, their
+faces ain't onlike the moon in a gineral way; only one
+has got a man in it, and the other hain't always. It
+tante a bright face; you can look into it without winkin'.
+It's a cloudy one here too, especially in November; and
+most all the time makes you rather sad and solemncoly.
+Yes, John is a moony man, that's a fact, and at the full
+a little queer sometimes.
+
+"England is a stupid country compared to our'n. _There
+it no variety where there it no natur_. You have class
+variety here, but no individiality. They are insipid,
+and call it perlite. The men dress alike, talk alike,
+and look as much alike as Providence will let 'em. The
+club-houses and the tailors have done a good deal towards
+this, and so has whiggism and dissent; for they have
+destroyed distinctions.
+
+"But this is too deep for me. Ask Minister, he will tell
+you the cause; I only tell you the fact.
+
+"Dinin' out here, is both heavy work, and light feedin'.
+It's monstrous stupid. One dinner like one rainy day
+(it's rained ever since I been here a'most), is like
+another; one drawin'-room like another drawin'-room; one
+peer's entertainment, in a general way, is like another
+peer's. The same powdered, liveried, lazy, idle,
+good-for-nothin', do-little, stand-in-the-way-of-each-other,
+useless sarvants. Same picturs, same plate, same fixin's,
+same don't-know-what-to-do-with-your-self-kinder-o'-
+lookin'-master. Great folks are like great folks,
+marchants like marchants, and so on. It's a pictur, it
+looks like life, but' it tante. The animal is tamed here;
+he is fatter than the wild one, but he hante the spirit.
+
+"You have seen-Old Clay in a pastur, a racin' about, free
+from harness, head and tail up, snortin', cavortin',
+attitudinisin' of himself. Mane flowin' in the wind,
+eye-ball startin' out, nostrils inside out a'most, ears
+pricked up. _A nateral hoss_; put him in a waggon, with
+a rael spic and span harness, all covered over with brass
+buckles and brass knobs, and ribbons in his bridle, rael
+jam. Curb him up, talk Yankee to him, and get his ginger
+up. Well, he looks well; but he is '_a broke hoss_.' He
+reminds you of Sam Slick; cause when you see a hoss, you
+think of his master: but he don't remind you of the rael
+'_Old Clay_,' that's a fact.
+
+"Take a day here, now in town; and they are so identical
+the same, that one day sartificates for another. You
+can't get out a bed afore twelve, in winter, the days is
+so short, and the fires ain't made, or the room dusted,
+or the breakfast can't be got, or sunthin' or another.
+And if you did, what's the use? There is no one to talk
+to, and books only weaken your understandin', as water
+does brandy. They make you let others guess for you,
+instead of guessin' for yourself. Sarvants spile your
+habits here, and books spite your mind. I wouldn't swap
+ideas with any man. I make my own opinions, as I used
+to do my own clocks; and I find they are truer than other
+men's. The Turks are so cussed heavy, they have people
+to dance for 'em; the English are wus, for they hire
+people to think for 'em. Never read a book, Squire,
+always think for yourself.
+
+"Well, arter breakfast, it's on hat and coat, ombrella
+in hand, (don't never forget that, for the rumatiz, like
+the perlice, is always on the look out here, to grab hold
+of a feller,) and go somewhere where there is somebody,
+or another, and smoke, and then wash it down with a
+sherry-cobbler; (the drinks ain't good here; they hante
+no variety in them nother; no white-nose, apple-jack,
+stone-wall, chain-lightning, rail-road, hail-storm,
+ginsling-talabogus, switchel-flip, gum-ticklers,
+phlem-cutters, juleps, skate-iron, cast-steel, cock-tail,
+or nothin', but that heavy stupid black fat porter;) then
+down to the coffee-house, see what vessels have arrived,
+how markets is, whether there is a chance of doin' any
+thin' in cotton or tobacco, whose broke to home, and so
+on. Then go to the park, and see what's a goin' on there;
+whether those pretty critturs, the rads are a holdin' a
+prime minister 'parsonally responsible,' by shootin' at
+him; or whether there is a levee, or the Queen is ridin'
+out, or what not; take a look at the world, make a visit
+or two to kill time, when all at once it's dark. Home
+then, smoke a cigar, dress for dinner, and arrive at a
+quarter past seven.
+
+"Folks are up to the notch here when dinner is in question,
+that's a fact, fat, gouty, broken-winded, and foundered
+as they be. It's rap, rap, rap, for twenty minutes at
+the door, and in they come, one arter the other, as fast
+as the sarvants can carry up their names. Cuss them
+sarvants! it takes seven or eight of 'em to carry a man's
+name up stairs, they are so awful lazy, and so shockin'
+full of porter. If a feller was so lame he had to be
+carried up himself, I don't believe on my soul, the whole
+gang of them, from the Butler that dresses in the same
+clothes as his master, to Boots that ain't dressed at
+all, could make out to bowse him up stairs, upon my soul
+I don't.
+
+"Well, you go in along with your name, walk up to old
+aunty, and make a scrape, and the same to old uncle, and
+then fall back. This is done as solemn, as if a feller's
+name was called out to take his place in a funeral; that
+and the mistakes is the fun of it. There is a sarvant at
+a house I visit at, that I suspicion is a bit of a bam,
+and the critter shows both his wit and sense. He never
+does it to a 'somebody,' 'cause that would cost him his
+place, but when a 'nobody' has a droll name, he jist
+gives an accent, or a sly twist to it, that folks can't
+help a larfin', no more than Mr. Nobody can feelin' like
+a fool. He's a droll boy, that; I should like to know
+him.
+
+"Well, arter 'nouncin' is done, then comes two questions
+--do I know anybody here? and if I do, does he look like
+talk or not? Well, seein' that you have no handle to your
+name, and a stranger, it's most likely you can't answer
+these questions right; so you stand and use your eyes,
+and put your tongue up in its case till it's wanted.
+Company are all come, and now they have to be marshalled
+two and two, lock and lock, and go into the dinin'-room
+to feed.
+
+"When I first came I was nation proud of that title, 'the
+Attache;' now I am happified it's nothin' but 'only an
+Attache,' and I'll tell you why. The great guns, and big
+bugs, have to take in each other's ladies, so these old
+ones have to herd together. Well, the nobodies go together
+too, and sit together, and I've observed these nobodies
+are the pleasantest people at table, and they have the
+pleasantest places, because they sit down with each other,
+and are jist like yourself, plaguy glad to get some one
+to talk to. Somebody can only visit somebody, but nobody
+can go anywhere, and therefore nobody sees and knows
+twice as much as somebody does. Somebodies must be axed,
+if they are as stupid as a pump; but nobodies needn't,
+and never are, unless they are spicy sort o' folks, so
+you are sure of them, and they have all the fun and wit
+of the table at their eend, and no mistake.
+
+"I wouldn't take a title if they would give it to me,
+for if I had one, I should have a fat old parblind dowager
+detailed on to me to take in to dinner; and what the
+plague is her jewels and laces, and silks and sattins,
+and wigs to me? As it is, I have a chance to have a gall
+to take in that's a jewel herself--one that don't want
+no settin' off, and carries her diamonds in her eyes,
+and so on. I've told our minister not to introduce me as
+an Attache no more, but as Mr. Nobody, from the State of
+Nothin', in America, _that's natur agin_.
+
+"But to get back to the dinner. Arter you are in marchin'
+order, you move in through two rows of sarvants in uniform.
+I used to think they was placed there for show, but it's
+to keep the air off of folks a goin' through the entry,
+and it ain't a bad thought, nother.
+
+"Lord, the first time I went to one o' these grand let
+offs I felt kinder skeery, and as nobody was allocated
+to me to take in, I goes in alone, not knowin' where I
+was to settle down as a squatter, and kinder lagged
+behind; when the butler comes and rams a napkin in my
+hand, and gives me a shove, and sais he, 'Go and stand
+behind your master, sir,' sais he. Oh Solomon! how that
+waked me up. How I curled inwardly when he did that.
+'You've mistaken the child,' sais I mildly, and I held
+out the napkin, and jist as he went to take it, I gave
+him a sly poke in the bread basket, that made him bend
+forward and say 'eugh.' 'Wake Snakes, and walk your
+chalks,' sais I, 'will you?' and down I pops on the fust
+empty chair. Lord, how white he looked about the gills
+arterwards; I thought I should a split when I looked at
+him. Guess he'll know an Attache when he sees him next
+time.
+
+"Well, there is dinner. One sarvice of plate is like
+another sarvice of plate, any one dozen of sarvants are
+like another dozen of sarvants, hock is hock, and champaigne
+is champaigne--and one dinner is like another dinner.
+The only difference is in the thing itself that's cooked.
+Veal, to be good, must look like any thing else but veal;
+you mustn't know it when you see it, or it's vulgar;
+mutton must be incog. too; beef must have a mask on; any
+thin' that looks solid, take a spoon to; any thin' that
+looks light, cut with a knife; if a thing looks like
+fish, you may take your oath it is flesh; and if it seems
+rael flesh, it's only disguised, for it's sure to be
+fish; nothin' must be nateral, natur is out of fashion
+here. This is a manufacturin' country, everything is
+done by machinery, and that that ain't must be made to
+look like it; and I must say, the dinner machinery is
+parfect.
+
+"Sarvants keep goin' round and round in a ring, slow,
+but sartain, and for ever, like the arms of a great big
+windmill, shovin' dish after dish, in dum show, afore
+your nose, for you to see how you like the flavour; when
+your glass is empty it's filled; when your eyes is off
+your plate, it's off too, afore you can say Nick Biddle.
+
+"Folks speak low here; steam is valuable, and noise
+onpolite. They call it a "_subdued tone_." Poor tame
+things, they are subdued, that's a fact; slaves to an
+arbitrary tyrannical fashion that don't leave 'em no free
+will at all. You don't often speak across a table any
+more nor you do across a street, but p'raps Mr. Somebody
+of West Eend of town, will say to a Mr. Nobody from West
+Eend of America: 'Niagara is noble.' Mr. Nobody will
+say, 'Guess it is, it got its patent afore the "Norman
+_Conquest_," I reckon, and afore the "_subdued_ tone"
+come in fashion.' Then Mr. Somebody will look like an
+oracle, and say, 'Great rivers and great trees in America.
+You speak good English.' And then he will seem surprised,
+but not say it, only you can read the words on his face,
+'Upon my soul, you are a'most as white as us.'
+
+"Dinner is over. It's time for ladies to cut stick. Aunt
+Goosey looks at the next oldest goosey, and ducks her
+head, as if she was a goin' through a gate, and then they
+all come to their feet, and the goslins come to their
+feet, and they all toddle off to the drawin' room together.
+
+"The decanters now take the "grand tour" of the table,
+and, like most travellers, go out with full pockets, and
+return with empty ones. Talk has a pair of stays here,
+and is laced up tight and stiff. Larnin' is pedantic;
+politics is onsafe; religion ain't fashionable. You must
+tread on neutral ground. Well, neutral ground gets so
+trampled down by both sides, and so plundered by all,
+there ain't any thing fresh or good grows on it, and it
+has no cover for game nother.
+
+"Housundever, the ground is tried, it's well beat, but
+nothin' is put up, and you get back to where you started.
+Uncle Gander looks at next oldest gander hard, bobs his
+head, and lifts one leg, all ready for a go, and says,
+'Will you take any more wine?' 'No, sais he, 'but I take
+the hint, let's jine the ladies.'
+
+"Well, when the whole flock is gathered in the goose
+pastur, the drawin'-room, other little flocks come troopin'
+in, and stand, or walk, or down on chairs; and them that
+know each other talk, and them that don't twirl their
+thumbs over their fingers; and when they are tired of
+that, twirl their fingers over their thumbs. I'm nobody,
+and so I goes and sets side-ways on an ottarman, like a
+gall on a side-saddle, and look at what's afore me. And
+fust I always look at the galls.
+
+"Now, this I will say, they are amazin' fine critters
+are the women kind here, when they are taken proper care
+of. The English may stump the univarse a'most for trainin'
+hosses and galls. They give 'em both plenty of walkin'
+exercise, feed 'em regular, shoe 'em well, trim 'em neat,
+and keep a beautiful skin on 'em. They keep, 'em in good
+health, and don't house 'em too much. They are clippers,
+that's a fact. There is few things in natur, equal to a
+hoss and a gall, that's well trained and in good condition.
+I could stand all day and look at 'em, and I call myself
+a considerable of a judge. It's singular how much they
+are alike too, the moment the trainin' is over or neglected,
+neither of 'em is fit to be seen; they grow out of shape,
+and look coarse.
+
+"They are considerable knowin' in this kind o' ware too,
+are the English; they vamp 'em up so well, it's hard to
+tell their age, and I ain't sure they don't make 'em live
+longer, than where the art ain't so well pract_ised_.
+The mark o' mouth is kept up in a hoss here by the file,
+and a hay-cutter saves his teeth, and helps his digestion.
+Well, a dentist does the same good turn for a woman; it
+makes her pass for several years younger; and helps her
+looks, mends her voice, and makes her as smart as a three
+year old.
+
+"What's that? It's music. Well, that's artificial too,
+it's scientific they say, it's done by rule. Jist look
+at that gall to the piany: first comes a little Garman
+thunder. Good airth and seas, what a crash! it seems as
+if she'd bang the instrument all to a thousand pieces.
+I guess she's vexed at somebody and is a peggin' it into
+the piany out of spite. Now comes the singin'; see what
+faces she makes, how she stretches her mouth open, like
+a barn door, and turns up the white of her eyes, like a
+duck in thunder. She is in a musical ecstasy is that
+gall, she feels good all over, her soul is a goin' out
+along with that ere music. Oh, it's divine, and she is
+an angel, ain't she? Yes, I guess she is, and when I'm
+an angel, I will fall in love with her; but as I'm a man,
+at least what's left of me, I'd jist as soon fall in love
+with one that was a leetle, jist a leetle more of a woman,
+and a leetle, jist a leetle less of an angel. But hullo!
+what onder the sun is she about, why her voice is goin'
+down her own throat, to gain strength, and here it comes
+out agin as deep toned as a man's; while that dandy feller
+along side of her, is singin' what they call falsetter.
+They've actilly changed voices. The gall sings like a
+man, and that screamer like a woman. This is science:
+this is taste: this is fashion; but hang me if it's natur.
+I'm tired to death of it, but one good thing is, you
+needn't listen without you like, for every body is talking
+as, loud as ever.
+
+"Lord, how extremes meet sometimes, as Minister says.
+_Here_, how, fashion is the top of the pot, and that pot
+hangs on the highest hook on the crane. In _America_,
+natur can't go no farther; it's the rael thing. Look at
+the women kind, now. An Indgian gall, down South, goes
+most naked. Well, a splendiferous company gall, here,
+when she is _full dressed_ is only _half covered_, and
+neither of 'em attract you one mite or morsel. We dine
+at two and sup at seven; _here_ they lunch at two, and
+dine at seven. The words are different, but they are
+identical the same. Well, the singin' is amazin' like,
+too. Who ever heerd them Italian singers recitin' their
+jabber, showin' their teeth, and cuttin' didoes at a
+great private consart, that wouldn't take his oath he
+had heerd niggers at a dignity ball, down South, sing
+jist the same, and jist as well. And then do, for goodness'
+gracious' sake, hear that great absent man, belongin' to
+the House o' Commons, when the chaplain says 'Let us
+pray!' sing right out at once, as if he was to home, 'Oh!
+by all means,' as much as to say, 'me and the powers
+above are ready to hear you; but don't be long about it.'
+
+"Ain't that for all the world like a camp-meetin', when
+a reformed ring-tail roarer calls out to the minister,
+'That's a fact, Welly Fobus, by Gosh; amen!' or when
+preacher says, 'Who will be saved?' answers, 'Me and the
+boys, throw us a hen-coop; the galls will drift down
+stream on a bale o' cotton.' Well then, _our_ very lowest,
+and _their_ very highest, don't always act pretty, that's
+a fact. Sometimes '_they repudiate_.' You take, don't
+you?
+
+"There is another party to-night; the flock is a thinnin'
+off agin; and as I want a cigar most amazin'ly, let's go
+to a divan, and some other time, I'll tell you what a
+swoi_ree_ is. But answer me this here question now,
+Squire: when this same thing is acted over and over, day
+after day, and no variation, from July to etarnity, don't
+you think you'd get a leetle--jist a leetle more tired
+of it every day, and wish for natur once more. If you
+wouldn't I would, that's all."
+
+
+END OF VOL. I.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Attache; or, Sam Slick in England
+(V1), by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
+
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