THE ATTACHE

or, SAM SLICK IN ENGLAND. 

By Thomas Chandler Haliburton

(Greek Text)--GREEK PROVERB. 

Tell you what, report my speeches if you like, but if you put my talkin, I'll give you the mitten, as sure as you are born. --SLICKVILLETRANSLATION

London, July 3rd, 1843. 

MY DEAR HOPKINSON, I have spent so many agreeable hours at Edgeworth heretofore, that myfirst visit on leaving London, will be to your hospitable mansion. Inthe meantime, I beg leave to introduce to you my "Attache, " who willprecede me several days. His politics are similar to your own; I wish Icould say as much in favour of his humour. His eccentricities will standin need of your indulgence; but if you can overlook these, I am notwithout hopes that his originality, quaint sayings, and queer views ofthings in England, will afford you some amusement. At all events, I feelassured you will receive him kindly; if not for his own merits, at leastfor 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

 CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME. 

 CHAPTER I. THE NOSE OF A SPY CHAPTER II. THE PATRON; OR, THE COW'S TAIL CHAPTER III. ASCOT RACES CHAPTER IV. THE GANDER PULLING CHAPTER V. THE BLACK STOLE CHAPTER VI. THE PRINCE DE JOINVILLE'S HORSE CHAPTER VII. LIFE IN THE COUNTRY CHAPTER VIII. BUNKUM CHAPTER IX. THROWING THE LAVENDER CHAPTER X. AIMING HIGH CHAPTER XI. A SWOI-REE CHAPTER XII. TATTERSALL'S CHAPTER XIII. LOOKING BACK CHAPTER XIV. CROSSING THE BORDER CHAPTER XV. THE IRISH PREFACE

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 embarkedon board of the good Packet ship "Tyler" for England. Our partyconsisted of the Reverend Mr. Hopewell, Samuel Slick, Esq. , myself, andJube 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 degenerateinto obscurity. Writing a book, however, and book-making, are two verydifferent things: "spinning a yarn" is mechanical, and book-makingsavours of trade, and is the employment of a manufacturer. The authorby profession, weaves his web by the piece, and as there is muchcompetition in this branch of trade, extends it over the greatestpossible surface, so as to make the most of his raw material. Henceevery work of fancy is made to reach to three volumes, otherwise it willnot 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, butit 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. Slickwould say "for everlastinly;" but to make my bow and retire very soonfrom the press altogether. I might assign many reasons for this modestcourse, 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 ina 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 ofall observers. " I could undervalue this species of writing if Ithought proper, affect a contempt for idiomatic humour, or hint at theemployment being inconsistent with the grave discharge of importantofficial duties, which are so distressingly onerous, as not to leaveme a moment for recreation; but these airs, though dignified, willunfortunately 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 atHalifax on board the Buffalo store-ship for England. She was a nobleteak built ship of twelve or thirteen hundred tons burden, had excellentaccommodation, and carried over to merry old England, a very merry partyof passengers, _quorum parva pars fui_, a youngster just emerged fromcollege. 

On the banks of Newfoundland we were becalmed, and the passengers amusedthemselves by throwing overboard a bottle, and shooting at it with ball. The guns used for this occasion, were the King's muskets, taken from thearm-chest on the quarter-deck. The shooting was execrable. It was hardto say which were worse marksmen, the officers of the ship, or thepassengers. Not a bottle was hit: many reasons were offered for thisfailure, but the two principal ones were, that the muskets were bad, andthat it required great skill to overcome the difficulty occasioned byboth, the vessel and the bottle being in motion at the same time, andthat motion dissimilar. 

I lost my patience. I had never practised shooting with ball; I hadfrightened a few snipe, and wounded a few partridges, but that wasthe extent of my experience. I knew, however, that I could not by anypossibility shoot worse than every body else had done, and might byaccident shoot better. 

"Give me a gun, Captain, " said I, "and I will shew you how to uncorkthat bottle. "

I took the musket, but its weight was beyond my strength of arm. I wasafraid that I could not hold it out steadily, even for a moment, it wasso very heavy--I threw it up with a desperate effort and fired. The neckof the bottle flew up in the air a full yard, and then disappeared. Iwas amazed myself at my success. Every body was surprised, but as everybody attributed it to long practice, they were not so much astonished asI was, who knew it was wholly owing to chance. It was a lucky hit, and Imade the most of it; success made me arrogant, and boy-like, I became aboaster. 

"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 callmyself a good shot. I have not had the requisite experience; but thereare 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 apuzzler. 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 improvewith 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 memuch time. A squirrel is too small an object for all but an experiencedman, but a "_large_" mark like a quart bottle can easily be hit at ahundred yards--that is nothing. "

"I will take you a bet, " said he, "of a doubloon, you do not do itagain?"

"Thank you, " I replied with great indifference: "I never bet, andbesides, that gun has so injured my shoulder, that I could not, if Iwould. "

By that accidental shot, I obtained a great name as a marksman, and byprudence I retained it all the voyage. This is precisely my case now, gentle reader. I made an accidental hit with the Clockmaker: when heceases to speak, I shall cease to write. The little reputation I thenacquired, I do not intend to jeopardize by trying too many experiments. I know that it was chance--many people think it was skill. If theychoose to think so, they have a right to their opinion, and that opinionis 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 mysubjects, for the mere purpose of filling my pages. Still a book shouldbe perfect within itself, and intelligible without reference to otherbooks. Authors are vain people, and vanity as well as dignity isindigenous to a colony. Like a pastry-cook's apprentice, I see so muchof both their sweet things around me daily, that I have no appetite foreither of them. 

I might perhaps be pardoned, if I took it for granted, that thedramatis personae of this work were sufficiently known, not to requirea particular introduction. Dickens assumed the fact that his book onAmerica would travel wherever the English language was spoken, and, therefore, called it "Notes for General Circulation. " Even Colonistssay, 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 ourtravelling party, as if they were wholly unknown to fame, and then leavethem to speak for themselves. 

The Reverend Mr. Hopewell is a very aged clergyman of the Church ofEngland, and was educated at Cambridge College, in Massachusetts. Previously to the revolution, he was appointed rector of a small parishin Connecticut. When the colonies obtained their independence, heremained with his little flock in his native land, and continued tominister to their spiritual wants until within a few years, when hisparishioners becoming Unitarians, gave him his dismissal. Affable inhis manners and simple in his habits, with a mind well stored with humanlore, and a heart full of kindness for his fellow-creatures, he was atonce an agreeable and an instructive companion. Born and educated in theUnited States, when they were British dependencies, and possessed ofa thorough knowledge of the causes which led to the rebellion, and themeans used to hasten the crisis, he was at home on all colonialtopics; while his great experience of both monarchical and democraticalgovernments, derived from a long residence in both, made him a mostvaluable authority on politics generally. 

Mr. Samuel Slick is a native of the same parish, and received hiseducation from Mr. Hopewell. I first became acquainted with him whiletravelling in Nova Scotia. He was then a manufacturer and vendor ofwooden clocks. My first impression of him was by no means favourable. Heforced himself most unceremoniously into my company and conversation. Iwas disposed to shake him off, but could not. Talk he would, and as histalk was of that kind, which did not require much reply on my part, hetook my silence for acquiescence, and talked on. I soon found that hewas a character; and, as he knew every part of the lower colonies, andevery body in them, I employed him as my guide. 

I have made at different times three several tours with him, the resultsof which I have given in three several series of a work, entitled the"Clockmaker, or the Sayings and Doings of Mr. Samuel Slick. " Our lasttour terminated at New York, where, in consequence of the celebrity heobtained from these "Sayings and Doings" he received the appointment ofAttache to the American Legation at the Court of St. James's. Theobject of this work is to continue the record of his observations andproceedings 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 ofthe Provincial bar. My name will seldom appear in these pages, as I amuniformly addressed by both my companions as "Squire, " nor shall I haveto perform the disagreeable task of "reporting my own speeches, " fornaturally taciturn, I delight in listening rather than talking, andmodestly prefer the duties of an amanuensis, to the responsibilities oforiginal 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 NewYork, 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 havebeen selected for observation. National traits are fair subjects forsatire or for praise, but personal peculiarities claim the privilege ofexemption in right of that hospitality, through whose medium they havebeen alone exhibited. Public topics are public property; every body hasa right to use them without leave and without apology. It is only whenwe quit the limits of this "common" and enter upon "private grounds, "that we are guilty of "a trespass. " This distinction is alike obvious togood sense and right feeling. I have endeavoured to keep it constantlyin 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 theindulgence always granted to involuntary offences. 

Now the patience of my reader may fairly be considered a "privateright. " I shall, therefore, respect its boundaries and proceed atonce 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 spentthe last day at our disposal, in visiting Brooklyn. The weather wasuncommonly fine, the sky being perfectly clear and unclouded; and thoughthe sun shone out brilliantly, the heat was tempered by a cool, bracing, westwardly wind. Its influence was perceptible on the spirits of everybody 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 atweenthis 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 anyof it left, for you'll see the difference when you get to England. Therenever 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 itrains every day amost in England, and in Ireland it rains every day andevery night too. It's awful, and you must keep out of a country-house insuch weather, or you'll go for it; it will kill you, that's sartain. Ishall never forget a juicy day I once spent in one of them dismal oldplaces. I'll tell you how I came to be there. 

"The last time I was to England, I was a dinin' with our consulto Liverpool, and a very gentleman-like old man he was too; he wasappointed by Washington, and had been there ever since our gloriousrevolution. Folks gave him a great name, they said he was a credit tous. Well, I met at his table one day an old country squire, that livedsomewhere 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 veryglad 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 gladto shew you the country in my neighbourhood, which is said to beconsiderable pretty. '

"'Well, ' says I, 'as I have nothin' above particular to see to, I don'tcare if I do go. '

"So off we started; and this I will say, he was as kind as he cleverlyknew how to be, and that is sayin' a great deal for a man that didn'tknow nothin' out of sight of his own clearin' hardly. 

"Now, when we got there, the house was chock full of company, andconsiderin' it warn't an overly large one, and that Britishers won'tstay in a house, unless every feller gets a separate bed, it's a wonderto me, how he stowed away as many as he did. Says he, 'Excuse yourquarters, Mr. Slick, but I find more company nor I expected here. Ina day or two, some on 'em will be off, and then you shall be betterprovided. '

"With that I was showed up a great staircase, and out o' that by adoor-way into a narrer entry and from that into an old T like lookingbuilding, that stuck out behind the house. It warn't the common companysleepin' room, I expect, but kinder make shifts, tho' they was goodenough 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, asif 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. Butstill as it was too late to go out agin that arternoon, I didn't thinkmuch about it then. I hadn't no notion what was in store for me nextday, no more nor a child; if I had, I'd a double deal sooner hangedmyself, than gone brousing in such place as that, in sticky weather. 

"A wet day is considerable tiresome, any where or any way you can fixit; but it's wus at an English country house than any where else, causeyou are among strangers, formal, cold, gallus polite, and as thick inthe head-piece as a puncheon. You hante nothin' to do yourself and theynever have nothin' to do; they don't know nothin' about America, anddon't want to. Your talk don't interest them, and they can't talk tointerest nobody but themselves; all you've got to do, is to pull outyour watch and see how time goes; how much of the day is left, and thengo to the winder and see how the sky looks, and whether there is anychance of holdin' up or no. Well, that time I went to bed a littleairlier than common, for I felt considerable sleepy, and considerablestrange 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 upjist about the time when day ought to break, and was a thinkin' to getup; but the shutters was too, and it was as dark as ink in the room, andI heer'd it rainin' away for dear life. 'So, ' sais I to myself, 'whatthe dogs is the use of gittin' up so airly? I can't get out and get asmoke, and I can't do nothin' here; so here goes for a second nap. ' WellI was soon off agin in a most a beautiful of a snore, when all at onceI heard thump-thump agin the shutter--and the most horrid noise I everheerd 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'sjabbering gibberish there, or is I wide awake or no?' So I sets rightup on my hind legs in bed, rubs my eyes, opens my ears and listensagin, when whop went every shutter agin, with a dead heavy sound, likesomethin' or another thrown agin 'em, or fallin' agin 'em, and thencomes 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 withmy talkin' irons, that was all ready loaded, pokes my way to thewinder--shoves the sash up and outs with the shutter, ready to let slipamong 'em. And what do you think it was?--Hundreds and hundreds of themnasty, dirty, filthy, ugly, black devils of rooks, located in the treesat 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 likeno better sport than jist to sit here, all this blessed day with thesepistols, and drop you one arter another, _I_ know. ' But they was pets, was them rooks, and of course like all pets, everlastin' nuisances toevery body else. 

"Well, when a man's in a feeze, there's no more sleep that hitch; so Idresses 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 beready till eleven o'clock, for nobody wouldn't get up if they could helpit--they wouldn't be such fools; so there was jail for six hours and ahalf. 

"Well, I walked up and down the room, as easy as I could, not to wakenfolks; but three steps and a round turn makes you kinder dizzy, so Isits down again to chaw the cud of vexation. 

"'Ain't this a handsum fix?' sais I, 'but it sarves you right, whatbusniss had you here at all? you always was a fool, and always will beto 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 astirrin' now, I guess. ' Well, as I am a livin' sinner, it was only fiveo'clock; 'oh dear, ' sais I, 'time is like women and pigs the more youwant it to go, the more it won't. What on airth shall I do?--guess, I'llstrap my rasor. '

"Well, I strapped and strapped away, until it would cut a single hairpulled strait up on eend out o' your head, without bendin' it--take itoff slick. 'Now, ' sais I, 'I'll mend my trowsers I tore, a goin' tosee the ruin on the road yesterday; so I takes out Sister Sall's littleneedle-case, and sows away till I got them to look considerable jamagin; 'and then, ' sais I, 'here's a gallus button off, I'll jist fixthat, ' and when that was done, there was a hole to my yarn sock, so Iturned too and darned that. 

"'Now, ' sais I, 'how goes it? I'm considerable sharp set. It must begettin' tolerable late now. ' It wanted a quarter to six. 'My! sakes, 'sais I, 'five hours and a quarter yet afore feedin' time; well if thatdon'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'tlike it, they may lump it; what business have they to keep them horridscreetchin' infarnal, sleepless rooks to disturb people that way?' Well, I takes a lucifer, and lights a cigar, and I puts my head up the chimblyto let the smoke off, and it felt good, I promise _you_. I don't know asI ever enjoyed one half so much afore. It had a rael first chop flavourhad that cigar. 

"'When that was done, ' sais I, 'What do you say to another?' 'Well, Idon't know, ' sais I, 'I should like it, that's a fact; but holdin' ofmy head crooked up chimbly that way, has a' most broke my neck; I've gotthe cramp in it like. '

"So I sot, and shook my head first a one side and then the other, andthen turned it on its hinges as far as it would go, till it felt aboutright, 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 tothink it warn't quite so bad arter all, when whop went my cigar rightout of my mouth into my bosom, atween the shirt and the skin, and burntme like a gally nipper. Both my eyes was fill'd at the same time, andI got a crack on the pate from some critter or another that clawed andscratched my head like any thing, and then seemed to empty a bushel ofsut on me, and I looked like a chimbly sweep, and felt like old Scratchhimself. My smoke had brought down a chimbly swaller, or a martin, orsome such varmint, for it up and off agin' afore I could catch it, towring its infarnal neck off, that's a fact. 

"Well, here was somethin' to do, and no mistake: here was to clean andgroom 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, andthen never get it out of my brush again, and my eyes smarted so, theydid nothing but water, and wink, and make faces. But I did; I worked onand worked on, till all was sot right once more. 

"'Now, ' sais I, 'how's time?' 'half past seven, ' sais I, 'and threehours and a half more yet to breakfast. Well, ' sais I, 'I can't standthis--and what's more I won't: I begin to get my Ebenezer up, and feelwolfish. I'll ring up the handsum chamber-maid, and just fall to, andchaw her right up--I'm savagerous. '* 'That's cowardly, ' sais I, 'callthe footman, pick a quarrel with him and kick him down stairs, speak butone word to him, and let that be strong enough to skin the coon arter ithas killed him, the noise will wake up folks _I_ know, and then we shallhave sunthin' to eat. '

[* Footnote: The word "savagerous" is not of "Yankee" but of "Westernorigin. "--Its use in this place is best explained by the followingextract from the Third Series of the Clockmaker. "In order that thesketch which I am now about to give may be fully understood, it maybe 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, theinhabitants of New England. It is a name, though sometimes satiricallyused, of which they have great reason to be proud, as it is descriptiveof a most cultivated, intelligent, enterprising, frugal, and industriouspopulation, who may well challenge a comparison with the inhabitants ofany other country in the world; but it has only a local application. 

"The United States cover an immense extent of territory, and theinhabitants of different parts of the Union differ as widely incharacter, feelings, and even in appearance, as the people of differentcountries usually do. These sections differ also in dialect and inhumour, as much as in other things, and to as great, if not a greaterextent, than the natives of different parts of Great Britain vary fromeach 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 EuropeansFrenchmen. Throughout these works it will be observed, that Mr. Slick'spronunciation is that of the Yankee, or an inhabitant of the _ruraldistricts_ of New England. His conversation is generally purely so; butin some instances he uses, as his countrymen frequently do from choice, phrases which, though Americanisms, are not of Eastern origin. Whollyto exclude these would be to violate the usages of American life; tointroduce them oftener would be to confound two dissimilar dialects, and to make an equal departure from the truth. Every section has its owncharacteristic dialect, a very small portion of which it has impartedto its neighbours. The dry, quaint humour of New England is occasionallyfound in the west, and the rich gasconade and exaggerative language ofthe west migrates not unfrequently to the east. This idiomaticexchange is perceptibly on the increase. It arises from the travellingpropensities of the Americans, and the constant intercourse mutuallymaintained by the inhabitants of the different States. A droll oran original expression is thus imported and adopted, and, though notindigenous, soon becomes engrafted on the general stock of the languageof the country. "--3rd Series, p. 142. ]

"I was ready to bile right over, when as luck would have it, the rainstopt all of a sudden, the sun broke out o' prison, and I thought Inever seed any thing look so green and so beautiful as the countrydid. 'Come, ' sais I, 'now for a walk down the avenue, and a comfortablesmoke, and if the man at the gate is up and stirrin', I will just pop inand breakfast with him and his wife. There is some natur there, but hereit's all cussed rooks and chimbly swallers, and heavy men and fatwomen, and lazy helps, and Sunday every day in the week. ' So I fills mycigar-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 mysoul, I don't know, ' sais I; 'but try, it's no use to be caged up herelike 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 wasa bedroom--it was the likely chambermaid's. 

"'Softly, Sir, ' sais she, a puttin' of her finger on her lip, 'don'tmake no noise; Missus will hear you. '

"'Yes, ' sais I, 'I won't make no noise;' and I outs and shuts the doortoo arter me gently. 

"'What next?' sais I; 'why you fool, you, ' sais I, 'why didn't you axthe 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, itbelonged to one o' the horrid hansum stranger galls that dined at tableyesterday. When she seed me, she gave a scream, popt her head onder theclothes, 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'dlick him out of spite; I hope I may be shot if I don't, and I doubledup my fist, for I didn't like it a spec, and opened another door--it wasthe housekeeper's. 'Come, ' sais I, 'I won't be balked no more. ' She sotup and fixed her cap. A woman never forgets the becomins. 

"'Anything I can do for you, Sir?' sais she, and she raelly did lookpretty; 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 toget up and get breakfast for me, ) 'it's the first on the right, and shefixed her cap agin' and laid down, and I took the first on the right andoff like a blowed out candle. There was the staircase. I walked down, took my hat, onbolted the outer door, and what a beautiful day wasthere. I lit my cigar, I breathed freely, and I strolled down theavenue. 

"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 thelodge; they had breakfasted had the old folks, so I chatted away withthem 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 theshower wins, (comprehens_ive_ as my legs be), and down it comes, as hardas all possest. 'Take it easy, Sam, ' sais I, 'your flint is fixed; youare wet thro'--runnin' won't dry you, ' and I settled down to a carelesswalk, quite desperate. 

"'Nothin' in natur', unless it is an Ingin, is so treacherous as theclimate here. It jist clears up on purpose I do believe, to tempt youout without your umbreller, and jist as sure as you trust it and leaveit to home, it clouds right up, and sarves you out for it--it doesindeed. What a sight of new clothes I've spilte here, for the rain has asort of dye in it. It stains so, it alters the colour of the cloth, forthe smoke is filled with gas and all sorts of chemicals. Well, back Igoes 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 crackedpitcher 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' likeother folks; I don't know whether it's affectation, or bein' wrong inthe head--a little of both I guess. Now where do you suppose the solidpart of breakfast is, Squire? Why, it's on the side-board--I hope I maybe shot if it ain't--well, the tea and coffee are on the table, to makeit as onconvenient as possible. 

"Says I, to the lady of the house, as I got up to help myself, for I washungry enough to make beef ache I know. 'Aunty, ' sais I, 'you'll excuseme, but why don't you put the eatables on the table, or else put thetea on the side-board? They're like man and wife, they don't ought to beseparated, them two. '

"She looked at me, oh what a look of pity it was", as much as tosay, 'Where have you been all your born days, not to know better northat?--but I guess you don't know better in the States--how could youknow any thing there?' But she only said it was the custom here, for shewas a very purlite old woman, was Aunty. 

"Well sense is sense, let it grow where it will, and I guess we raiseabout the best kind, which is common sense, and I warn't to be put downwith short metre, arter that fashion. So I tried the old man; sais I, 'Uncle, ' sais I, 'if you will divorce the eatables from the drinkablesthat way, why not let the servants come and tend. It's monstrousonconvenient and ridikilous to be a jumpin' up for everlastinly thatway; you can't sit still one blessed minit. '

"'We think it pleasant, ' said he, 'sometimes to dispense with theirattendance. '

"'Exactly, ' sais I, 'then dispense with sarvants at dinner, for whenthe wine is in, the wit is out. ' (I said that to compliment him, for thecritter had no wit in at no time, ) 'and they hear all the talk. But atbreakfast every one is only half awake, (especially when you rise soairly as you do in this country, ' sais I, but the old critter couldn'tsee 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 verytalkat_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 hestared was a caution to an owl. 

"Well, we sot and sot till I was tired, so thinks I, 'what's next?' forit's rainin' agin as hard as ever. ' So I took a turn in the studyto sarch for a book, but there was nothin' there, but a Guide to theSessions, Burn's Justice, and a book of London club rules, and two orthree 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, whythe plague don't you begin airly? If you'd a had it at five o'clock thismorning, I'd a done justice to it; now I couldn't touch it if I was todie. '

"There it was, though. Help yourself, and no thanks, for there is nosarvants agin. The rule here is, no talk no sarvants--and when it's alltalk, it's all sarvants. 

"Thinks I to myself, 'now, what shall I do till dinner-time, for itrains so there is no stirrin' out?--Waiter, where is eldest son?--he andI 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'tup 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. Themoment I came in it was as dumb as a quaker's meetin'. They all hauledup at once, like a stage-coach to an inn-door, from a hand-gallop to astock still stand. I seed men warn't wanted there, it warn't the customso airly, so I polled out o' that creek, starn first. They don't likemen in the mornin', in England, do the ladies; they think 'em in theway. 

"'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; onlylet me get thro' this juicy day, and I am done: let me get out of thisscrape, and if I am caught agin, I'll give you leave to tell me ofit, in meetin'. It tante pretty, I do suppose to be a jawin' withthe butler, but I'll make an excuse for a talk, for talk comes kindernateral 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 partof 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 SableIsland--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 knowwhere 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 tellhim a story, and now I think of it, I will go and smoke them black impsof darkness, --the rooks. '

"So I goes up stairs, as slowly as I cleverly could, jist liftin' onefoot arter another as if it had a fifty-six tied to it, on pupus tospend time; lit a cigar, opened the window nearest the rooks, andsmoked, but oh the rain killed all the smoke in a minite; it didn't evenmake one on 'em sneeze. 'Dull musick this, Sam, ' sais I, 'ain't it? Tellyou what: I'll put on my ile-skin, take an umbreller and go and talk tothe stable helps, for I feel as lonely as a catamount, and as dull as abachelor beaver. So I trampousses off to the stable, and says I to thehead man, 'A smart little hoss that, ' sais I, 'you are a cleaning of: helooks like a first chop article that. '

"'Y mae', ' sais he. 

"'Hullo, ' sais I, 'what in natur' is this? Is it him that can't speakEnglish, or me that can't onderstand? for one on us is a fool, that'ssartain. I'll try him agin. 

"So I sais to him, 'He looks, ' sais I, 'as if he'd trot a considerablegood 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 heerdin 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 Idon't exactly know which I like wus. It's no use to stand talkin' tothis critter. Good-bye, ' sais I. 

"Now what do you think he said? Why, you would suppose he'd say good-byetoo, wouldn't you? Well, he didn't, nor nothin' like it, but he jistups, and sais, 'Forwelloaugh, ' he did, upon my soul. I never felt sostumpt afore in all my life. Sais I, 'Friend, here is half a dollar foryou; it arn't often I'm brought to a dead stare, and when I am, I amwillin' 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 menonderstand the other, all the wide world over, from Canton to Niagara. Ino sooner showed him the half dollar, than it walked into his pocket, aplaguy sight quicker than it will walk out, I guess. 

"Sais I, 'Friend, you've taken the consait out of me properly. CaptainHall said there warn't a man, woman, or child, in the whole of thethirteen united univarsal worlds of our great Republic, that could speakpure 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 theyever as much as heerd it, for I never did, till this blessed day, andthere 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 inYankee, means, "that's no English, " and he stood, looked puzzled, andscratched his head, rael hansum, 'Dim comrag, ' sais he. 

"Well, it made me larf spiteful. I felt kinder wicked, and as _I_ hada hat on, and I couldn't scratch my head, I stood jist like him, clownfashion, with my eyes wanderin' and my mouth wide open, and put my handbehind me, and scratched there; and I stared, and looked puzzled too, and made the same identical vacant face he did, and repeated arter himslowly, with another scratch, mocking him like, 'Dim comrag. '

"Such a pair o' fools you never saw, Squire, since the last time youshaved 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 overagain--rain, rain, rain; spatter, spatter, spatter, --'I can't stophere with these true Brittons, ' sais I, 'guess I'll go and see the oldSquire: 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', praysmoke yourself. ' And he is writing I won't interrupt him. 

"'Waiter, order me a post-chaise, to be here in the mornin', when therooks wake. '

"'Yes, Sir. '

"Come, I'll try the women folk in the drawin'-room, agin'. Ladies don'tmind the rain here; they are used to it. It's like the musk plant, arteryou put it to your nose once, you can't smell it a second time. Oh whatbeautiful galls they be! What a shame it is to bar a feller out such aday as this. One on 'em blushes like a red cabbage, when she speaks tome, 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 caughtthis geranium, ' and she onhitches it. 'Stop, Sir, you'll break thisjilly flower, ' and she lifts off the coat tail agin; in fact, it's socrowded, you can't squeeze along, scarcely, without a doin' of mischiefsomewhere or another. 

"Next time, she goes first, and then it's my turn, 'Stop, Miss, ' saisI, 'your frock has this rose tree over, ' and I loosens it; oncemore, 'Miss, this rose has got tangled, ' and I ontangles it from herfurbeloes. 

"I wonder what makes my hand shake so, and my heart it bumps so, it hasbust a button off. If I stay in this consarvitery, I shan't consarvemyself long, that's a fact, for this gall has put her whole team on, andis a runnin' me off the road. 'Hullo! what's that? Bell for dressin'for dinner. ' Thank Heavens! I shall escape from myself, and from thisbeautiful critter, too, for I'm gettin' spoony, and shall talk sillypresently. 

"I don't like to be left alone with a gall, it's plaguy apt to set me asoft sawderin' and a courtin'. There's a sort of nateral attraction likein this world. Two ships in a calm, are sure to get up alongside of eachother, if there is no wind, and they have nothin' to do, but look ateach other; natur' does it. "Well, even, the tongs and the shovel, won'tstand 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'ssartain. If that's the case with hard-hearted things, like oak andiron, what is it with tender hearted things like humans? Shut me up ina 'sarvatory with a hansum gall of a rainy day, and see if I don't thinkshe 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 gallwhere I got my hoss, in Old Connecticut, and that state takes the shineoff 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, tobrush up a bit; but there it is agin the same old tune, the wholeblessed day, rain, rain, rain. It's rained all day and don't talk ofstoppin' nother. How I hate the sound, and how streaked I feel. I don'tmind 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, andsquenched 'em out; even champaign won't raise 'em agin; feedin' isheavy, talk is heavy, time is heavy, tea is heavy, and there ain'tmusick; the only thing that's light is a bed room candle--heavens andairth 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 Englishclimate, and his opinion of the dulness of a country house, as nearlyas possible in his own words. It struck me at the time that they wereexaggerated views; but if the weather were unpropitious, and the companynot well selected, I can easily conceive, that the impression on hismind would be as strong and as unfavourable, as he has described it tohave been. 

The climate of England is healthy, and, as it admits of much out-doorexercise, and is not subject to any very sudden variation, or violentextremes of heat and cold, it may be said to be good, though notagreeable; but its great humidity is very sensibly felt by Americans andother 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 wonderedat; it is probable it would be so any where, to a man who had so fewresources, within himself, as the Attache. Much of course depends on theinmates; 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 theweather a matter of indifference to him. 

I cannot say, but that I have at times suffered a depression of spiritsfrom the frequent, and sometimes long continued rains of this country;but I do not know that, as an ardent admirer of scenery, I would desireless humidity, if it diminished, as I fear it would, the extraordinaryverdure and great beauty of the English landscape. With respect to myown visits at country houses, I have generally been fortunate in theweather, and always in the company; but I can easily conceive, that aman situated as Mr. Slick appears to have been with respect to both, would find the combination intolerably dull. But to return to mynarrative. 

Early on the following day we accompanied our luggage to the wharf, where a small steamer lay to convey us to the usual anchorage groundof the packets, in the bay. We were attended by a large concourse ofpeople. The piety, learning, unaffected simplicity, and kind dispositionof my excellent friend, Mr. Hopewell, were well known and fullyappreciated by the people of New York, who were anxious to testifytheir respect for his virtues, and their sympathy for his unmeritedpersecution, by a personal escort and a cordial farewell. 

"Are all those people going with us, Sam?" said he; "how pleasant itwill 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 onboard--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 thoughtI would feel kinder dull and melancholy like, on leaving my native landthis 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, butall together like, so that I can't take 'em one by one and reason 'emdown, 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'sno 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 thatway 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 dearlittle 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 afeller. For nothin' in natur', unless it be perpetual motion, can equala woman's tongue. It's most a pity we hadn't some of the angeliferouslittle dears with us too, for they do make the time pass quick, that'sa fact. I want some on 'em to tie a night-cap for me to-night; I don'tcommonly wear one, but I somehow kinder guess, I intend to have one thistime, 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 dutifuldaughter, and a kind and affectionate sister. Yes, she is a good girl isSally, a very good girl indeed; but what of her?"

"Well, she was a most a beautiful critter, to brew a glass of whiskeytoddy, as I ever see'd in all my travels was sister Sall, and I used tocall that tipple, when I took it late, a night-cap; apple jack andwhite nose ain't the smallest part of a circumstance to it. On such anoccasion as this, minister, when a body is leavin' the greatest nationatween 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 friendswhether temporally or for ever, is a sad thing, and the former istypical of the latter. No, I do not know as I would. We may use thesethings, but not abuse them. Be temperate, be moderate, but it is a sorryheart that knows no pleasure. Take your night-cap, Sam, and then commendyourself to His safe keeping, who rules the wind and the waves to Himwho--"

"Well then, minister, what a dreadful awful looking thing a night-cap iswithout a tassel, ain't it? Oh! you must put a tassel on it, and thatis another glass. Well then, what is the use of a night-cap, if it hasa tassel on it, but has no string, it will slip off your head the veryfirst turn you take; and that is another glass you know. But one stringwon't tie a cap; one hand can't shake hands along with itself: you musthave two strings to it, and that brings one glass more. Well then, whatis the use of two strings if they ain't fastened? If you want to keepthe cap on, it must be tied, that's sartain, and that is another go; andthen, minister, what an everlastin' miserable stingy, ongenteel crittera 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 infor sleep, and that's what I intend to do to-night. I guess I'll tie thenight-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 andduly sober, I never saw one yet that talked such nonsense as you do. Yousaid, you understood me, but you don't, one mite or morsel; but menare made differently, some people's narves operate on the brainsens_itively_ and give them exquisite pain or excessive pleasure; otherfolks seem as if they had no narves at all. You understand my words, butyou don't enter into my feelings. Distressing images rise up in my mindin such rapid succession, I can't master them, but they master me. Theycome 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. Reasonis comparing two ideas, and drawing an inference. Insanity is, when youhave such a rapid succession of ideas, that you can't compare them. Howgreat then must be the pain when you are almost pressed into insanityand yet retain your reason? What is a broken heart? Is it death? I thinkit must be very like it, if it is not a figure of speech, for I feelthat 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 havecome to take their last farewell of me; most likely, Sam, it _is_ a lastfarewell. I am an old man now, I am well stricken in years; shall I everlive 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 earthlypilgrimage; but if it be ordered otherwise. I am ready to say with truthand meekness, 'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace. '"

When this excellent old man said that, Mr. Slick did not enter into hisfeelings--he did not do him justice. His attachment to and venerationfor his aged pastor and friend were quite filial, and such as to dohonour to his head and heart. Those persons who have made character astudy, will all agree, that the cold exterior of the New Englandman arises from other causes than a coldness of feeling; much of therhodomontade of the attache, addressed to Mr. Hopewell, was uttered forthe kind purpose of withdrawing his attention from those griefs whichpreyed so heavily upon his spirits. 

"Minister, " said Mr. Slick, "come, cheer up, it makes me kinder dismalto hear you talk so. When Captain McKenzie hanged up them three free andenlightened citizens of ours on board of the--Somers--he gave 'em threecheers. We are worth half a dozen dead men yet, so cheer up. Talk tothese friends of ourn, they might think you considerable starch ifyou don't talk, and talk is cheap, it don't cost nothin' but breath, ascrape of your hind leg, and a jupe of the head, that's a fact. "

Having thus engaged him in conversation with his friends, we proceededon 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 ofhis 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 youngfriends and admirers. He was cautioned to sustain the high characterof the nation abroad; to take care that he returned as he went--a trueAmerican; to insist upon the possession of the Oregon Territory; todemand and enforce his right position in society; to negotiate thenational loan; and above all never to accede to the right of searchof slave-vessels; all which having been duly promised, they took anaffectionate leave of each other, and we remained on board, intending todepart 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 inregular succession the cap, the tassel, and the two strings, filled histumbler 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 andsolitary voyage across the Atlantic. Object after object rose in rapidsuccession into distinct view, was approached and passed, until leavingthe calm and sheltered waters of the bay, we emerged into the ocean, andinvoluntarily turned to look back upon the land we had left. Long afterthe lesser hills and low country had disappeared, a few ambitious peaksof the highlands still met the eye, appearing as if they had advancedto the very edge of the water, to prolong the view of us till the lastmoment. 

This coast is a portion of my native continent, for though not a subjectof the Republic, I am still an American in its larger sense, having beenborn in a British province in this hemisphere. I therefore sympathisedwith the feelings of my two companions, whose straining eyes were stillfixed on those dim and distant specks in the horizon. 

"There, " said Mr. Slick, rising from his seat, "I believe we have seenthe last of home till next time; and this I will say, it is the mostglorious country onder the sun; travel where you will, you won't dittoit 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 notbeen heard; and turning to Mr. Hopewell, I observed his eyes werefixed intently on the distance, and his mind pre-occupied by painfulreflexions, for tears were coursing after each other down his furrowedbut placid cheek. 

"Squire, " said Mr. Slick to me, "this won't do. We must not allow him todwell too long on the thoughts of leaving home, or he'll droop like anything, and p'raps, hang his head and fade right away. He is aged andfeeble, and every thing depends on keeping up his spirits. An old plantmust be shaded, well watered, and tended, or you can't transplant it nohow, you can fix it, that's a fact. He won't give ear to me now, forhe 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 achance. "

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 assureyou I take great pleasure in doing so I cannot always talk to Sam: heis excited now; he is anticipating great pleasure from his visit toEngland, and is quite boisterous in the exuberance of his spirits. Iown I am depressed at times; it is natural I should be, but I shallendeavour not to be the cause of sadness in others. I not only likecheerfulness myself, but I like to promote it; it is a sign of aninnocent mind, and a heart in peace with God and in charity with man. All nature is cheerful, its voice is harmonious, and its countenancesmiling; the very garb in which it is clothed is gay; why then shouldman be an exception to every thing around him? Sour sectarians, whoaddress our fears, rather than our affections, may say what they please, Sir, but mirth is not inconsistent with religion, but rather an evidencethat our religion is right. If I appear dull, therefore, do not supposeit is because I think it necessary to be so, but because certainreflections are natural to me as a clergyman, as a man far advanced inyears, and as a pilgrim who leaves his home at a period of life, whenthe probabilities are, he may not be spared to revisit it. 

"I am like yourself, a colonist by birth. At the revolution I took nopart in the struggle; my profession and my habits both exempted me. Whether the separation was justifiable or not, either on civil orreligious 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, withthe 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 andloved so well, is doubtless a trial to one whose heart is still warm, while his nerves are weak, and whose affections are greater than hisfirmness. But I weary you with this egotism?"

"Not at all, " I replied, "I am both instructed and delighted by yourconversation. Pray proceed, Sir. "

"Well it is kind, very kind of you, " said he, "to say so. I will explainthese sensations to you, and then endeavour never to allude tothem again. America is my birth-place and my home. Home has twosignifications, a restricted one and an enlarged one; in its restrictedsense, it is the place of our abode, it includes our social circle, ourparents, children, and friends, and contains the living and the dead;the past and the present generations of our race. By a very naturalprocess, the scene of our affections soon becomes identified with them, and a portion of our regard is transferred from animate to inanimateobjects. The streams on which we sported, the mountains on which weclambered, the fields in which we wandered, the school where we wereinstructed, the church where we worshipped, the very bell whose pensivemelancholy music recalled our wandering steps in youth, awaken inafter-years many a tender thought, many a pleasing recollection, andappeal to the heart with the force and eloquence of love. The countryagain contains all these things, the sphere is widened, new objects areincluded, and this extension of the circle is love of country. It isthus 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 toexclude a man from his country, is the greatest punishment that countrycan inflict upon him; and so laudable, that when it becomes a principleof action, it forms the hero and the patriot. How impressive, howbeautiful, how dignified was the answer of the Shunamite woman toElisha, who in his gratitude to her for her hospitality and kindness, made her a tender of his interest at court. 'Wouldst thou, ' said he, 'bespoken for to the king, or to the captain of the host?'--What an offerwas that, to gratify her ambition or flatter her pride!--'I dwell, ' saidshe, 'among mine own people. ' What a characteristic answer! all historyfurnishes no parallel to it. 

"I too dwell 'among my own people:' my affections are there, and therealso is the sphere of my duties; and if I am depressed by the thoughtsof parting from 'my people, ' I will do you the justice to believe, thatyou would rather bear with its effects, than witness the absence of suchnatural affection. 

"But this is not the sole cause: independently of some afflictions ofa clerical nature in my late parish, to which it is not necessary toallude, the contemplation of this vast and fathomless ocean, bothfrom its novelty and its grandeur, overwhelms me. At home I am fondof tracing the Creator in his works. From the erratic comet in thefirmament, to the flower that blossoms in the field; in all animate, andinanimate matter; in all that is animal, vegetable or mineral, I see Hisinfinite 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 emblemof eternity!--Its dominion is alone reserved to Him, who made it. Changing yet changeless--ever varying, yet always the same. How weakand powerless is man! how short his span of life, when he is viewedin connexion with the sea! He has left no trace upon it--it will notreceive the impress of his hands; it obeys no laws, but those imposedupon it by Him, who called it into existence; generation aftergeneration has looked upon it as we now do--and where are they? Likeyonder waves that press upon each other in regular succession, they havepassed away for ever; and their nation, their language, their templesand 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 liftethits waves or stilleth the rage thereof. 

"And yet, my dear friend, for so you must allow me to call you, awful asthese considerations are, which it suggests, who are they that go downto the sea in ships and occupy their business in great waters? Thesordid trader, and the armed and mercenary sailor: gold or blood istheir object, and the fear of God is not always in them. Yet the seashall 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 topicsupon our friends at all times, has a tendency to make both ourselves andour topics distasteful. I mention these things to you, not that they arenot obvious to you and every other right-minded man, or that I thinkI can clothe them in more attractive language, or utter them with moreeffect than others; but merely to account for my absence of mind andevident air of abstraction. I know my days are numbered, and in thenature of things, that those that are left, cannot be many. 

"Pardon me, therefore, I pray you, my friend; make allowances for an oldman, unaccustomed to leave home, and uncertain whether he shall ever bepermitted to return to it. I feel deeply and sensibly your kindness insoliciting my company on this tour, and will endeavour so to regulatemy feelings as not to make you regret your invitation. I shall not againrecur to these topics, or trouble you with any further reflections 'onHome and the Sea. '"

CHAPTER V. T'OTHER EEND OF THE GUN. 

"Squire, " said Mr. Hopewell, one morning when we were alone on thequarter-deck, "sit down by me, if you please. I wish to have a littleprivate conversation with you. I am a good deal concerned about Sam. Inever liked this appointment he has received: neither his education, hishabits, nor his manners have qualified him for it. He is fitted for atrader and for nothing else. He looks upon politics as he does upon histraffic in clocks, rather as profitable to himself than beneficial toothers. Self is predominant with him. He overrates the importance ofhis office, as he will find when he arrives in London; but what is stillworse, he overrates the importance of the opinions of others regardingthe States. 

"He has been reading that foolish book of Cooper's 'Gleanings inEurope, ' and intends to shew fight, he says. He called my attention, yesterday, to this absurd passage, which he maintains is the most manlyand sensible thing that Cooper ever wrote: 'This indifference to thefeelings of others, is a dark spot on the national manners of England. The only way to put it down, is to become belligerent yourself, byintroducing Pauperism, Radicalism, Ireland, the Indies, or some othersore point. Like all who make butts of others, they do not manifestthe proper forbearance when the tables are turned. Of this, I have hadabundance of proof in my own experience. Sometimes their remarks areabsolutely rude, and personally offensive, as a disregard of one'snational character, is a disrespect to his principles; but as personalquarrels on such grounds are to be avoided, I have uniformly retorted inkind, 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 favourof you, to persuade Sam not to be too sensitive on these topics; notto take offence, where it is not intended; and, above all, ratherto vindicate his nationality by his conduct, than to justify thoseaspersions, by his intemperate behaviour. But here he comes; I shallwithdraw and leave you together. "

Fortunately, Mr. Slick commenced talking upon a topic, which naturallyled 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 Englandalong with me: we will take a rise out of John Bull, won't we?--We'vehit Blue-nose and Brother Jonathan both pretty considerable tarnationhard, 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'llsoon see whose hide is the thickest, hisn or ourn, won't we? Let's seewhether he will say chee, chee, chee, when he gets to the t'other eendof the gun. "

"What is the meaning of that saying?" I asked. "I never heard itbefore. "

"Why, " said he, "when I was a considerable of a grown up saplin of aboy to Slickville, I used to be a gunnin' for everlastinly amost in ourhickory 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 wasalong with me, and every time he see'd me a drawin' of the bead fineon 'em, he used to say, 'Well, you've an excellent gun entirely, MasterSam. Oh by Jakers! the squirrel has no chance with that gun, it's anexcellent one entirely. '

"At last I got tired a hearin' of him a jawin' so for ever and a dayabout the excellent gun entirely; so, sais I, 'You fool you, do youthink it's the gun that does it _entirely_ as you say; ain't there alittle 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 fistyou'll make of it. '

"So Paddy takes the rifle, lookin' as knowin' all the time as if hehad ever seed one afore. Well, there was a great red squirrel, on thetip-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 littlecritters, 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 matterof them; but Pat they didn't know, and they see'd he warn't the manto handle 'old Bull-Dog. ' I used to call my rifle Bull-Dog, cause shealways bit afore she barked. 

"Pat threw one foot out astarn, like a skullin' oar, and then bentforrards like a hoop, and fetched the rifle slowly up to the line, andshot to the right eye. Chee, chee, chee, went the squirrel. He see'd itwas wrong. 'By the powers!' sais Pat, 'this is a left-handed boot, ' andhe 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 geta right strait sight of the critter, either side. ' So I fixt it for himand told him which eye to sight by. 'An excellent gun entirely, ' saisPat, 'but it tante made like the rifles we have. '

"Ain't they strange critters, them Irish, Squire? That feller neverhandled a rifle afore in all his born days; but unless it was to apriest, he wouldn't confess that much for the world. They are as bad asthe English that way; they always pretend they know every thing. 

"'Come, Pat, ' sais I, 'blaze away now. ' Back goes the hind leg agin, upbends the back, and Bull-Dog rises slowly to his shoulder; and then hestared, and stared, until his arm shook like palsy. Chee, chee, chee, went the squirrel agin, louder than ever, as much as to say, 'Why theplague don't you fire? I'm not a goin' to stand here all day, for youthis way, ' and then throwin' his tail over his back, he jumped on to thenext branch. 

"'By the piper that played before Moses!' sais Pat, 'I'll stop yourchee, 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 knowhow to hold her tight to the shoulder, got mad, and kicked him head overheels, 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 hisarm, to see if he had one left, and the squirrel ran about the treehoppin' 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 ofthe gun, ' and he rubbed his shoulder agin, and cried like a baby, 'youwouldn't have said chee, chee, chee, that way, I know. '

"Now when your gun, Squire, was a knockin' over Blue-nose, and makin' aproper fool of him, and a knockin' over Jonathan, and a spilin' of hisbran-new clothes, the English sung out chee, chee, chee, till all wasblue agin. You had an excellent gun entirely then: let's see if theywill sing out chee, chee, chee, now, when we take a shot at _them_. Doyou take?" and he laid his thumb on his nose, as if perfectly satisfiedwith the application of his story. "Do you take, Squire? you have anexcellent gun entirely, as Pat says. It's what I call puttin' the leakeinto 'em properly. If you had a written this book fust, the Englishwould have said your gun was no good; it wouldn't have been like therifles they had seen. Lord, I could tell you stories about the English, that would make even them cryin' devils the Mississippi crocodileslaugh, if they was to hear 'em. "

"Pardon me, Mr. Slick, " I said, "this is not the temper with which youshould visit England. "

"What is the temper, " he replied with much warmth, "that they visit usin? 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 friendto us, not a native that has a claim on us; not a colonist, who, thoughEnglish by name is still an American by birth, six of one and half adozen of t'other, and therefore a kind of half-breed brother. No! he wasa cussed Britisher; and what is wus, a British author; and yet, becausehe was a man of genius, because genius has the 'tarnal globe for itstheme, and the world for its home, and mankind for its readers, andbean't a citizen of this state or that state, but a native of theunivarse, why we welcomed him, and feasted him, and leveed him, andescorted him, and cheered him, and honoured him, did he honour us? Whatdid he say of us when he returned? Read his book. 

"No, don't read his book, for it tante worth readin'. Has he said oneword 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 thatreception? Answer me that, will you? Darned the word, his memory wasbad; he lost it over the tafrail when he was sea-sick. But his notebookwas safe under lock and key, and the pigs in New York, and the chap therats eat in jail, and the rough man from Kentucky, and the entire raftof galls emprisoned in one night, and the spittin' boxes and all thatstuff, 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, aboutmy country, or not give me the right _po_-sition in society, as Attacheto our Legation, and, as Cooper says, I'll become belligerent, too, Iwill, I snore. I can snuff a candle with a pistol as fast as you canlight it; hang up an orange, and I'll first peel it with ball andthen quarter it. Heavens! I'll let daylight dawn through some o' theirjackets, I know. 

"Jube, you infarnal black scoundrel, you odoriferous nigger you, what'sthat you've got there?"

"An apple, massa. "

"Take off your cap and put that apple on your head, then stand sidewaysby that port-hole, and hold steady, or you might stand a smart chance tohave your wool carded, that's all. "

Then taking a pistol out of the side-pocket of his mackintosh, hedeliberately walked over to the other side of the deck, and examined hispriming. 

"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 timewith equal sternness, "to bore a hole through that apple, Sir. "

"For shame! Sir, " I said. "How can you think of such a thing? Supposeyou 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 missit if I was to try. Hold your head steady, Jube--and if I did, it's nogreat matter. The onsarcumcised Amalikite ain't worth over three hundreddollars at the furthest, that's a fact; and the way he'd pyson a sharkain't no matter. Are you ready, Jube?"

"Yes, massa. "

"You shall do no such thing, Sir, " I said, seizing his arm with both myhands. "If you attempt to shoot at that apple, I shall hold no furtherintercourse with you. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Sir. "

"Ky! massa, " said Jube, "let him fire, Sar; he no hurt Jube; he nofoozle de hair. I isn't one mossel afeerd. He often do it, jist to keephim hand in, Sar. Massa most a grand shot, Sar. He take off de ear oh desquirrel so slick, he neber miss it, till he go scratchin' his head. Lethim appel hab it, massa. "

"Oh, yes, " said Mr. Slick, "he is a Christian is Jube, he is as good asa white Britisher: same flesh, only a leetle, jist a leetle darker; sameblood, only not quite so old, ain't quite so much tarter on the bottleas a lord's has; oh him and a Britisher is all one brother--oh by allmeans--

 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, hughim, give him the "Abolition" kiss, write an article on slavery, likeDickens; marry him to a white gall to England, get him a saint's darterwith 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 giveme slack, and I'll give 'em cranberry for their goose, I know. I'd jumpright 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. Ihad no idea whatever, that a man, whose whole conduct has evinced akind heart, and cheerful disposition, could have entertained sucha revengeful spirit, or given utterance to such unchristian anduncharitable language, as you have used to-day. We part"--

"No, we don't, " said he; "don't kick afore you are spurred. I guess Ihave feelins as well as other folks have, that's a fact; one can't helpbeing ryled to hear foreigners talk this way; and these critters areenough to make a man spotty on the back. I won't deny I've got somegrit, but I ain't ugly. Pat me on the back and I soon cool down, drop ina 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 yourfriends, the Americans, took any thing amiss, in our previous remarks, because, though satirical, they were good natured. There was nothingmalicious in them. They were not made for the mere purpose of shewingthem up, but were incidental to the topic we were discussing, and theirwhole tenor shewed that while "we were alive to the ludicrous, we fullyappreciated, and properly valued their many excellent and sterlingqualities. My countrymen, for whose good I published them, had the mostreason to complain, for I took the liberty to apply ridicule to themwith no sparing hand. They understood the motive, and joined in thelaugh, which was raised at their expense. Let us treat the English inthe same style; let us keep our temper. John Bull is a good-naturedfellow, and has no objection to a joke, provided it is not made thevehicle of conveying an insult. Don't adopt Cooper's maxims;nobody approves of them, on either side of the water; don't be toothin-skinned. If the English have been amused by the sketches theirtourists have drawn of, the Yankees, perhaps the Americans may laughover our sketches of the English. Let us make both of them smile, if wecan, and endeavour to offend neither. If Dickens omitted to mention thefestivals that were given in honour of his arrival in the States, hewas doubtless actuated by a desire to avoid the appearance of personalvanity. 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 thattime. I don't know but what you're right. Soft words are good enough intheir way, but still they butter no parsnips, as the sayin' is. John maybe a good-natured critter, tho' I never see'd any of it yet; and he maybe fond of a joke, and p'raps is, seein' that he haw-haws considerableloud at his own. Let's try him at all events. We'll soon see how helikes other folks' jokes; I have my scruple about him, I must say. I amdubersome whether he will say 'chee, chee, chee' when he gets 'T'othereend 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 theNova Scotians are called 'Blue-noses?'"

"It is the name of a potatoe, " said I, "which they produce in greatperfection, 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, ona sort of butter and eggs' gait (for a fast walk on a journey tires ahorse considerable), and who should I see a settin' straddle legs "onthe fence, but Squire Gabriel Soogit, with his coat off, a holdin' ofa hoe in one hand, and his hat in t'other, and a blowin' like a porpusproper tired. 

"'Why, Squire Gabe, ' sais I, 'what is the matter of you? you look as ifyou 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 atwork all the mornin'; a body has to stir about considerable smart inthis country, to make a livin', I tell you. '

"I looked over the fence, and I seed he had hoed jist ten hills ofpotatoes, and that's all. Fact I assure you. 

"Sais he, 'Mr. Slick, tell you what, _of all the work I ever did in mylife 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 alazy man that is! How far is it to Windsor?'

"'Three miles, ' sais he. I took out my pocket-book purtendin' to writedown the distance, but I booked his sayin' in my way-bill. 

"Yes, _that_ is a _Blue-nose_; is it any wonder, Stranger, he _is smallpotatoes 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 seavoyage: the subject is too hackneyed and too trite; and besides, when the topic is seasickness, it is infectious and the descriptionnauseates. _Hominem pagina nostra sapit_. The proper study of mankindis man; human nature is what I delight in contemplating; I love to traceout and delineate the springs of human action. 

Mr. Slick and Mr. Hopewell are both studies. The former is a perfectmaster of certain chords; He has practised upon them, not forphilosophical, 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 haslearned the effect of these, not because they contribute to make himwiser, but because they make him richer; not to enable him to regulatehis conduct in life, but to promote and secure the increase of histrade. 

Mr. Hopewell, on the contrary, has studied the human heart as aphilanthropist, as a man whose business it was to minister to it, to cultivate and improve it. His views are more sound and morecomprehensive 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 itsinstitutions. Mr. Slick evidently viewed them with prejudice. Whetherthis arose from the supercilious manner of English tourists in America, or from the ridicule they have thrown upon Republican society, in thebooks of travels they have published, after their return to Europe, I could not discover; but it soon became manifest to me, that GreatBritain did not stand so high in his estimation, as the colonies did. 

Mr. Hopewell, on the contrary, from early associations, cherished afeeling of regard and respect for England; and when his opinion wasasked, he always gave it with great frankness and impartiality. Whenthere was any thing he could not approve of, it appeared to be a subjectof regret to him; whereas, the other seized upon it at once as a matterof great exultation. The first sight we had of land naturally called outtheir respective opinions. 

As we were pacing the deck speculating upon the probable termination ofour 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!" saidMr. Slick. "Well, come this is pleasant too, we have made amost aneverlastin' short voyage of it, hante we; and I must say I like landquite as well as sea, in a giniral way, arter all; but, Squire, here isthe first Britisher. That critter that's a clawin' up the side of thevessel like a cat, is the pilot: now do for goodness gracious sake, jistlook 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 tosinging school short metre. The critter don't say a word, even as muchas 'by your leave'; but jist goes and takes his post, and don't ask thename of the vessel, or pass the time o' day with the Captin. That ain'tin the bill, it tante paid for that; if it was, he'd off cap, touchthe deck three times with his forehead, and '_Slam_' like a Turk to hisHonour the Skipper. 

"There's plenty of civility here to England if you pay for it: you canbuy as much in five minits, as will make you sick for a week; but if youdon't pay for it, you not only won't get it, but you get sarce insteadof 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 sunin eclipse, are the English. They hante set up the brazen image hereto worship, but they've got a gold one, and that they do adore and nomistake; it's all pay, pay, pay; parquisite, parquisite, parquisite;extortion, extortion, extortion. There is a whole pack of yelpin' devilsto your heels here, for everlastinly a cringin', fawnin' and coaxin', or snarlin', grumblin' or bullyin' you out of your money. There's theboatman, and tide-waiter, and porter, and custom-er, and truck man assoon as you land; and the sarvant-man, and chamber-gall, and boots, andporter 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 thecoach door, that they calls a waterman, cause he is infarnal dirty, andnever sees water. They are jist like a snarl o' snakes, their name islegion 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'tworth nothin', there is no market for such critters, no one would buyhim 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 hisbreeches 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 ittakes nine tailors to make a man, I can't jist exactly say, but thisI will say, and take my davy of it too, that it would take three suchgoneys as these to make a pattern for one of our rael genu_wine_ freeand 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 toland. "

He now went below, leaving Mr. Hopewell and myself on the deck. Allthis tirade of Mr. Slick was uttered in the hearing of the pilot, andintended rather for his conciliation, than my instruction. The pilot wasimmoveable; he let the cause against his country go "by default, " andleft us to our process of "inquiry;" but when Mr. Slick was in theact of descending to the cabin, he turned and gave him a look ofadmeasurement, very similar to that which a grazier gives an ox; a lookwhich estimates the weight and value of the animal, and I am bound toadmit, that the result of that "sizing or laying" as it is technicallycalled, was by no means favourable to the Attache". 

Mr. Hopewell had evidently not attended to it; his eye was fixed onthe bold and precipitous shore of Wales, and the lofty summits of theeverlasting hills, that in the distance, aspired to a companionship withthe clouds. I took my seat at a little distance from him and surveyedthe scene with mingled feelings of curiosity and admiration, until athick volume of sulphureous smoke from the copper furnaces of Angleseyintercepted 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 ofapplying 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 theballads, that first exercised our memories, stored the mind with thetraditions of our forefathers; their literature was our literature, their religion our religion, their history our history. The battle ofHastings, the murder of Becket, the signature of Runymede, the executionat Whitehall; the divines, the poets, the orators, the heroes, themartyrs, 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 nomore, I cannot describe to you the feelings that agitate my heart. I goto visit the tombs of my ancestors; I go to my home, and my home knowethme no more. Great and good, and brave and free are the English; and mayGod grant that they may ever continue so!"

"I cordially join in that prayer, Sir, " said I; "you have a countryof your own. The old colonies having ripened into maturity, formed adistinct and separate family, in the great community of mankind. You arenow a nation of yourselves, and your attachment to England, is of coursesubordinate to that of your own country; you view it as the place thatwas in days of yore the home of your forefathers; we regard it as thepaternal estate, continuing to call it 'Home' as you have just nowobserved. We owe it a debt of gratitude that not only cannot be repaid, but is too great for expression. Their armies protect us within, andtheir fleets defend us, and our commerce without. Their government isnot only paternal and indulgent, but is wholly gratuitous. We neitherpay these forces, nor feed them, nor clothe them. We not only raise notaxes, but are not expected to do so. The blessings of true religion arediffused among us, by the pious liberality of England, and a collegiateestablishment at Windsor, supported by British friends, has for yearssupplied the Church, the Bar and the Legislature with scholars andgentlemen. Where the national funds have failed, private contributionhas volunteered its aid, and means are never wanting for any useful orbeneficial object. 

"Our condition is a most enviable one. The history of the world has noexample to offer of such noble disinterestedness and such liberal rule, as that exhibited by Great Britain to her colonies. If the policy of theColonial 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 benefitwe might from the connexion, _we_, at least, reap more solid advantagesthan we have a right to expect, and more, I am afraid, than our conductalways deserves. I hope the Secretary for the Colonies may have theadvantage of making your acquaintance, Sir. Your experience is so great, you might give him a vast deal of useful information, which he couldobtain 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'splunder, 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, assoon as you please; for I've got all out of you I can squeeze, that's afact. That's English, Squire--that's English servility, which they callcivility, 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, "orminister will have to pay him for his visit, more, p'raps, than hecan afford. John Russell, that had the ribbons afore him, appointed asettler 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 fromhome, and has a horrid sight to do; and what do you think he did? Nowjist guess. You give it up, do you? Well, you might as well, for if youwas five Yankees biled down to one, you wouldn't guess it. 'RememberSecretary's clerk, ' says he, a touchin' of his hat, 'give him a littletip of thirty pound sterling, your honour. ' Well, colonist had a drop ofYankee 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 andsays, 'I'll see you and your clerk to Jericho beyond Jordan fust. Theoffice ain't worth the fee. Take it and sell it to some one else thathas more money nor wit. ' He did, upon my soul. "

"No, don't send State-Secretary to Minister, send him to me at eleveno'clock to-night, for I shall be the toploftiest feller about that timeyou've seen this while past, I tell you. Stop till I touch land oncemore, that's all; the way I'll stretch my legs ain't no matter. "

He then uttered the negro ejaculation "chah!--chah!" and putting hisarms a-kimbo, danced in a most extraordinary style to the music of asong, 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 intune then, jist about up to concart pitch. I'll smoke with him, or drinkwith him, or swap stories with him, or wrastle with him, or make a foolof him, or lick him, or any thing he likes; and when I've done, I'llrise up, tweak the fore-top-knot of my head by the nose, bow pretty, andsay 'Remember me, your honour? Don't forget the tip?' Lord, how I longto walk into some o' these chaps, and give 'em the beans! and I willyet afore I'm many days older, hang me if I don't. I shall bust, I doexpect; 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'vegrowed like a pine-tree with its branches off--straight up and down. Mylegs is like a pair of compasses that's got wet; they are rusty on thehinges, and won't work. I'll play leapfrog up the street, over everyfeller's head, till I get to the Liners' Hotel; I hope I may be shot ifI don't. Jube, you villain, stand still there on the deck, and hold upstiff, you nigger. Warny once--warny twice--warny three times; now Icome. "

And he ran forward, and putting a hand on each shoulder, jumped overhim. 

"Turn round agin, you young sucking Satan, you; and don't give one miteor morsel, or you might 'break massa's precious neck, ' p'raps. Warnyonce--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 asnag, _I_ know. Lord, I'll shack right over their heads, as they do overa 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 noparquisite 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 apoliceman's heels, thunder the knockers of the street doors, and ringthe bells and leave no card? Won't I have a shy at a lamp, and then offhot 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 onhis feet agin with a kick on his western eend. Kiss the barmaid, aboutthe quickest and wickedest she ever heerd tell of, and then off to bedas 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 shortrib, 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 herhand, 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 ofthree men with their clothes on--lay all over and over the bed, and feelonce 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 thatthe intervening time appears much shorter than it really is. We see atonce the starting-post and the terminus, and the mind takes in at oneview the entire space. 

But this observation is more peculiarly applicable to a short passageacross the Atlantic. Knowing how great the distance is, and accustomedto consider the voyage as the work of many weeks, we are so astonishedat finding ourselves transported in a few days, from one continent toanother, that we can hardly credit the evidence of our own senses. 

Who is there that on landing has not asked himself the question, "Is itpossible that I am in England? It seems but as yesterday that I was inAmerica, 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 theiraccent--the verdure and the climate are all new to me. I have not beenprepared for this; I have not been led on imperceptibly, by travellingmile after mile by land from my own home, to accustom my senses to thegradual change of country. There has been no border to pass, where thelanguage, the dress, the habits, and outward appearances assimilate. There has been no blending of colours--no dissolving views in theretrospect--no opening or expanding ones in prospect. I have nodifficulty in ascertaining the point where one terminates and the otherbegins. 

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--onecountry is withdrawn from view, and another is suddenly presented to myastonished gaze. I am bewildered; I rouse myself, and rubbing my eyes, again ask whether I am awake? Is this England? that great country, thatworld of itself; Old England, that place I was taught to call home _parexcellence_, 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 ofEngland; our church, not the Church of Nova Scotia, nor the Colonial northe Episcopal, nor the Established, but the Church of England. ) Isit then that England, whose language I speak, whose subject I am, themistress of the world, the country of Kings and Queens, and nobles andprelates, 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 hassketched them, but when were its sketches ever true to nature? I havea veneration for both, but, gentle reader, excuse the confessions of anold 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 itschurch, not only because I believe it is the true church, but becausethough armed with power, it is tolerant in practice. I love itsconstitution, because it combines the stability of a monarchy, with themost valuable peculiarities of a republic, and without violating natureby attempting to make men equal, wisely follow its dictates, by securingfreedom to all. 

I like the people, though not all in the same degree. They are not whatthey were. Dissent, reform and agitation have altered their character. It is necessary to distinguish. A _real_ Englishman is generous, loyaland brave, manly in his conduct and gentlemanly in his feeling. When Imeet such a man as this, I cannot but respect him; but when I find thatin addition to these good qualities, he has the further recommendationof being a churchman in his religion and a tory in his politics, I knowthen that his heart is in the right place, and I love him. 

The drafts of these chapters were read to Mr. Slick, at his particularrequest, that he might be assured they contained nothing that wouldinjure his election as President of the United States, in the event ofthe Slickville ticket becoming hereafter the favourite one. This, hesaid, was on the cards, strange as it might seem, for making a fool ofJohn Bull and turning the laugh on him, would be sure to take and bepopular. The last paragraphs, he said, he affectioned and approbatedwith 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'sturnin' 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 deadaim, and hear him say, 'Come, this is cuttin' it rather fat. ' Or, asthe 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 thatliberty. ' Yes, that's good, Squire. Go it, my shirt-tails! you'll win ifyou get in fust, see if you don't. Patronizin' a Britisher!!! A critterthat has Lucifer's pride, Arkwright's wealth, and Bedlam's sense, ain'tit rich? Oh, wake snakes and walk your chalks, will you! Give me yourfiggery-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 yourman. "

But to return to my narrative. I was under the necessity of devoting theday next after our landing at Liverpool, to writing letters announcingmy safe arrival to my anxious friends in Nova Scotia, and in differentparts of England; and also some few on matters of business. Mr. Slickwas very urgent in his request, that I should defer this work tillthe evening, and accompany him in a stroll about the town, and at lastbecame quite peevish at my reiterated refusal. 

"You remind me, Squire, " said he, "of Rufus Dodge, our great ilemarchant of Boston, and as you won't walk, p'raps you'll talk, so I'lljist tell you the story. 

"I was once at the Cataract House to Niagara. It is jist a shortdistance above the Falls. Out of the winders, you have a view of thesplendid white waters, or the rapids of foam, afore the river takes itseverlastin' leap over the cliff. 

"Well, Rufus come all the way from Boston to see the Falls: he said hedidn't care much about them hisself, seein' that he warn't in the millbusiness; but, as he was a goin' to England, he didn't like to say hehadn't been there, especially as all the English knowed about Americawas, 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 andover agin, but Niagara he'd never sot eyes on. 

"So as soon as he arrives, he goes into the public room, and looks atthe white waters, and, sais he, 'Waiter, ' sais he, 'is them the fallsdown there?' a-pintin' by accident in the direction where the Fallsactilly was. 

"'Yes, Sir, ' sais the waiter. 

"'Hem!' sais Rufe, 'them's the Falls of Niagara, eh! So I've seen theFalls 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 nowand then, he'd look out of the winder and say: 'So them's the Falls ofNiagara, eh? Well, it's a pretty little mill privilege that too, ain'tit; but it ain't just altogether worth comin' so far to see. So I'veseen 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 artercypherin' it over in his head a bit, 'Waiter, ' says he, 'ain't them theFalls 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, andnothin' else; not a bit of trade, or speckelation, or any airthly thingbut 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 thatare Britisher I was sold, that's a fact. Can I run down there and backin 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 lookat '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 Niagaraarter all. What a devil of a take-in that is, ain't it?' And he dovedown stairs like a Newfoundland dog into a pond arter a stone, and outof sight in no time. 

"Now, you are as like Rufe, as two peas, Squire. You want to say, youwas 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 ofLiverpool, 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 thecity. Oh, take your place, Squire, you have seen Liverpool; and if yousee as much of all other places, as you have of this here one, afore youreturn home, you will know most as much of England as them do that neverwas there at all. 

"I am sorry too, you won't go, Squire, " added he, "for minister seemskinder dull. "

"Don't say another word, Mr. Slick, " said I; "every thing shall give wayto 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 forgracious sake, say nothin' before Mr. Hopewell about that 'ere lark Ihad last night arter landin', it would sorter worry him, and set him offa-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_, aconsiderable 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; butMister Landlord found, I reckon, he had no fool to deal with, nother. Hecomes to me, as soon as I was cleverly up this mornin', lookin' as fullof 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 housebefore, Sir; have had great difficulty to prevent my sarvants takin' thelaw of you. '

"'Ah, ' sais I to myself, 'I see how the cat jumps; here's a little tidbit 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 theconsequences. '

"'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 dowhat 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 mustgive me a receipt in full for it. '

"'By all means, ' said he, and he was a cuttin' off full chisel to get astamp, 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 thewaiter, 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 amwillin' to pay all you ask, but I want to include all, for I intend topost a copy of it in the elegant cabins of each of our splendid New YorkLiners. This house convenes the Americans--they all know _me_. I wantthem to know how their _Attache_ was imposed on, and if any Americanever sets foot in this cussed house agin I will pay his bill, and postthat 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 youshall never take advantage agin of another free and enlightened Americancitizen, I can tell you. '

"'You must keep your money then, Sir, ' said he, 'but this is not a fairdeal; no gentleman would do it. '

"'What's fair, I am willin' to do, ' sais I; 'what's onfair, is whatyou want to do. Now, look here: I knocked the waiter down; here is twosovereigns for him; I won't pay him nothin' for the kickin', for thatI give him out of contempt, for not defendin' of himself. Here's threesovereigns for the bar-maid; she don't ought to have nothin', for shenever got so innocent a kiss afore, in all her born days I know, forI 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'tought to treat a lady that way; it was onhansum', that's fact; andbesides, it tante right to give the galls a taste for such things. Theycome 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 thematter, 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 commenceour perambulation of the city; but it had begun to rain, and we werecompelled to defer it until the next day. 

"Well, it ain't much matter, Squire, " said Mr. Slick: "ain't thatLiverpool, 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 Rufussaid, I have felt it too, for this wet day reminds me of the rest of hisstory. 

"In about a half hour arter Rufus raced off to the Falls, back hecomes as hard as he could tear, a-puffing and a blowin' like a sizeablegrampus. You never seed such a figure as he was, he was wet through andthrough, and the dry dust stickin' to his clothes, made him look like adog, that had jumped into the water, and then took a roll in the road todry 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 wetFalls, that's a fact. I hante a dry rag on me; if it hadn't a been forthat ere Britisher, I wouldn't have see'd 'em at all, and yet a thoughtI had been there all the time. It's a pity too, that that winder don'tbear 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 frightthere--I shall never forget it, if I live as long as Merusalem. You knowI hadn't much time left, when. I found out I hadn't been there arterall, 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 andthrough 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 believein my soul, it was the Indian squaw that went over the Falls in thecanoe, 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. Giveme your hand, said Ghost, for I didn't see nothin' but a kinder darkshadow. Give me your hand. I think it must ha' been the squaw, for itbegged 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 amillion o' hard dollars, cash down without any ragged eends; and withthat, I turned to run out, but Lord love you I couldn't run. The stoneswas all wet and slimy, and onnateral slippy, and I expected everyminute, I should heels up and go for it: atween them two critters theGhost and the juicy ledge, I felt awful skeered I tell _you_. So Ibegins to say my catechism; what's your name, sais I? Rufus Dodge. Whogave you that name? Godfather and godmother granny Eells. What didthey promise for you? That I should renounce the devil and all hisworks--works--works--I couldn't get no farther, I stuck fast there, forI had forgot it. 

"'The moment I stopt, ghost kinder jumped forward, and seized me by mymustn't-mention'ems, and most pulled the seat out. Oh dear! my heartmost went out along with it, for I thought my time had come. You blackshe-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 hisworks--so there now; and I let go a kick behind, the wickedest you eversee, and took it right in the bread basket. Oh, it yelled and howledand screached like a wounded hyaena, till my ears fairly cracked agin. I renounce you, Satan, sais I; I renounce you, and the world, and theflesh 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 morefor myself, and that is to renounce Niagara, and Indgian squaws, anddead Britishers, and the whole seed, breed and generation of 'em fromthis time forth, for evermore. Amen. 

"'Oh blazes! how cold my face is yet. Waiter, half a pint of clearcocktail; somethin' to warm me. Oh, that cold hand! Did you ever touch adead man's hand? it's awful cold, you may depend. Is there any marks onmy 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 helpedout that's all. "

"'Skeered!' said he, 'sarves him right then; he might have knowed how tofeel for other folks, and not funkify them so peskily; I don't keer ifhe 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 thattime, I don't know what the upshot would have been, for Old Scratch wasthere too. I saw him as plain as I see you; he ran out afore me, andcouldn't stop or look back, as long as I said catekism. He was in hisold shape of the sarpent; he was the matter of a yard long, and as thickround as my arm and travelled belly-flounder fashion; when I touchedland, he dodged into an eddy, and out of sight in no time. Oh, there isno mistake, I'll take my oath of it; I see him, I did upon my soul. Itwas the old gentleman hisself; he come there to cool hisself. Oh, it wasthe devil, that's a fact. '

"'It was nothin' but a fresh water eel, ' sais I; 'I have seen thousandsof '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 area disgrace to our great nation, you great lummokin coward, you. AnAmerican 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 grannyEells, that promised I should renounce the devil and all his works, thattook that shape, and come to keep me to my bargain. She died fifty yearsago, 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 thedead, 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 moneyand 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 gotwet, and we hante got frightened, but we can look out o' the winder andsay, '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 overour wine after dinner longer than usual. Among the different topicsthat were discussed, the most prominent was the state of the politicalparties in this country. Mr. Slick, who paid great deference to theopinions of Mr. Hopewell, was anxious to ascertain from him whathe thought upon the subject, in order to regulate his conduct andconversation 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 athome, that I am heartily tired of them; our political world is dividedinto two classes, the knaves and the dupes. Don't let us talk of suchexciting, things. "

"But, Minister, " said Mr. Slick, "holdin' the high and dignified stationI do, as Attache, they will be a-pumpin' me for everlastinly, will thegreat men here, and they think a plaguy sight more of our opinion thanyou are aware on; we have tried all them things they are a jawin' abouthere, and they naterally want to know the results. Cooper says not oneTory called on him when he was to England, but Walter Scott; and thatI take it, was more lest folks should think he was jealous of him, thanany thing else; they jist cut him as dead as a skunk; but among theWhigs, he was quite an oracle on ballot, univarsal suffrage, and allother democratic institutions. "

"Well, he was a ninny then, was Cooper, to go and blart it all out tothe world that way; for if no Tory visited him, I should like you to askhim the next time you see him, how many gentlemen called upon him? Jistask 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 inEngland, 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 tono party, but take an interest in the whole human family. "

"Well, Minister, if you choose to sing dumb, you can, but I should liketo have you answer me one question now, and if you won't, why you mustjist 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 theIndgians say, "all same one brudder. " Where is the difference?"

"You will soon find that out, Sam; go and talk to a Consarvative asa Tory, and you will find he is a Whig: go and talk to him again as aWhig, and you will find he is a Tory. They are, for all the world, likea sturgeon. There is very good beef steaks in a sturgeon, and very goodfish too, and yet it tante either fish or flesh. I don't like takinga new name, it looks amazing like taking new principles, or, at allevents, like loosenin' old ones, and I hante seen the creed of this newsect 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 intune with the Whigs, but are half a note lower than the one, and halfa note higher than t'other. Now, changes in the body politic are alwaysnecessary more or less, in order to meet the changes of time, and thechanges in the condition of man. When they are necessary, make 'em, andha' 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 letus call you a Unitarian, and you can remain Episcopalian still. We aretired of that old fashioned name, it's generally thought unsuited tothe times, and behind the enlightment of the age; it's only fit forbenighted 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 aChristian, and the other don't; that's the difference. I'd die beforeI surrendered my name; for in surrenderin' that, I surrender myprinciples. '"

"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 theworld; for takin' a new name, shows he is ashamed of his old one; andhavin' an old one, shows his new one is a cheat. '"

"No, " said Mr. Hopewell, "I don't like that word Consarvative. Themfolks may be good kind of people, and I guess they be, seein' that theTories support 'em, which is the best thing I see about them; but Idon't like changin' a name. "

"Well, I don't know, " said Mr. Slick, "p'raps their old name was soinfarnal dry rotted, they wanted to change it for a sound new one. Yourecollect when that super-superior villain, Expected Thorne, broughtan action of defamation agin' me, to Slickville, for takin' away hischaracter, about stealing the watch to Nova Scotia; well, I jist pleadedmy own case, and I ups and sais, 'Gentlemen of the Jury, ' sais I, "Expected's character, every soul knows, is about the wust in allSlickville. 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 finda 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 anythin'; and the jury, without stirrin' from the box, returned a vardictfor 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, andthe Tories one that the whole nation had very great reason to beproud of. There is some little difference, you must admit. My Englishpolitics, (mind you, I say English, for they hare no reference toAmerica, ) are Tory, and I don't want to go to Sir Robert Peel, or LordJohn Russell either. "

"As for Johnny Russell, " said Mr. Slick, "he is a clever little chapthat; 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. Itneither 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 vulgarfamiliarity, ill becoming an Attache of our embassy. But as I wassaying, I do not require to go to either of those statesmen to beinstructed in my politics. I take mine where I take my religion, fromthe Bible. 'Fear God, honour the King, and meddle not with those thatare given to change. '"

"Oh, Minister, " said Mr. Slick, "you mis't a figur at our gloriousRevolution, you had ought to have held on to the British; they wouldhave made a bishop of you, and shoved you into the House of Lords, blackapron, lawn sleeves, shovel hat and all, as sure as rates. 'The rightreverend, the Lord Bishop of Slickville:' wouldn't it look well onthe back of a letter, eh? or your signature to one sent to me, signed'Joshua Slickville. ' It sounds better, that, than 'Old Minister, ' don'tit?"

"Oh, if you go for to talk that way, Sam, I am done; but I will shew youthat the Tories are the men to govern this great nation. A Tory I maysay '_noscitur a sociis_. '"

"What in natur is that, when it's biled and the skin took off?" askedMr. Slick. 

"Why is it possible you don't know that? Have you forgotten that commonschoolboy 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 ofornamenting 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 fromclassical writers, you would have been more like an Attache, and lesslike a peddling clockmaker than you are. "

"Minister, " said Mr. Slick, "I was only in jeest, but you are inairnest. What you have said is too true for a joke, and I feel it. I wasonly a sparrin'; but you took off the gloves, and felt my short ribs ina way that has given me a stitch in the side. It tante fair to kick thatway afore you are spurred. You've hurt me considerable. "

"Sam, I am old, narvous, and irritable. I was wrong to speak unkindlyto you, very wrong indeed, and I am sorry for it; but don't teaze me nomore, that's a good lad; for I feel worse than you do about it. I begyour pardon, I--"

"Well, " said Mr. Slick, "to get back to what we was a sayin', for you dotalk 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, therepealers, the manufacturin' folks, the independents, the baptists, thedissentin' Scotch, the socialists, the radicals, the discontented, andmost of the lower orders, and so on. "

"Well, who supported the Tories?"

"Why, the majority of the lords, the great body of landed gentry, theunivarsities, the whole of the Church of England, the whole of themethodists, 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; butas an American citizen, judge for yourself, which of those two partiesis 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 themthings is united, right most commonly is found a-joggin' along incompany. "

"Well now, Sam, you know we are a calculatin' people, a commercialpeople, a practical people. Europe laughs at us for it. Perhaps ifthey attended better to their own financial affairs, they would be in abetter 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?--Atpeace?"

"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 theimpendin' danger--of national bankruptcy. "

"Well, now for dollars and cents. How did the Tories leave thetreasury?"

"With a surplus revenue of millions. "

"How did the Whigs?"

"With a deficiency that made the nation scratch their head, and stareagin. "

"I could go through the details with you, as far as my imperfectinformation extends, or more imperfect memory would let me; but itis all the same, and always will be, here, in France, with us, in thecolonies, and everywhere else. Whenever property, talent, and virtue areall on one side, and only ignorant numbers, with a mere sprinkling ofproperty and talent to agitate 'em and make use of 'em, or misinformedor mistaken virtue to sanction 'em on the other side, no honest man cantake long to deliberate which side he will choose. 

"As to those conservatives, I don't know what to say, Sam; I should liketo put you right if I could. But I'll tell you what puzzles me. I askmyself what is a Tory? I find he is a man who goes the whole figur' forthe support of the monarchy, in its three orders, of king, lords, andcommons, as by law established; that he is for the connexion of Churchand State and so on; and that as the wealthiest man in England, heoffers to prove his sincerity, by paying the greatest part of the taxesto uphold these things. Well, then I ask what is Consarvitism? I am toldthat 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 merejuggle to change the name: if there is a difference, the word is worsethan a juggle, for it don't import any_. "

"Tell you what, " said Mr. Slick, "I heerd an old critter to Halifax oncedescribe 'em beautiful. He said he could tell a man's politicks by hisshirt. 'A Tory, Sir, ' said he, for he was a pompious old boy was oldBlue-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, andhe puts an onfrilled one on every other day. A Radical, Sir, ain't nogentleman 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 holdtogether no longer, and drops off in, pieces. '"

"Pooh!" said Mr. Hopewell, "now don't talk nonsense; but as I wasa-goin' to say, I am a plain man, and a straightforward man, Sam; what Isay, I mean; and what I mean, I say. Private and public life are subjectto the same rules; and truth and manliness are two qualities thatwill carry you through this world much better than policy, or tact, or expediency, or any other word that ever was devised to conceal, ormystify a deviation from the straight line. They have a sartificate ofcharacter, these consarvitives, in having the support of the Tories; butthat 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 wewant. However, I shall know more about it soon; and when I do, I willgive you my opinion candidly. One thing, however, is certain, a changein the institutions of a country I could accede to, approve, andsupport, if necessary and good; but I never can approve of either anindividual or a party--'_changing a name_. '"

CHAPTER X. THE NELSON MONUMENT. 

The following day being dry, we walked out to view the wonders of thisgreat commercial city of England, Liverpool. The side-paths were filledwith an active and busy population, and the main streets thronged withheavily-laden waggons, conveying to the docks the manufactures of thecountry, or carrying inward the productions of foreign nations. It wasan 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 surroundedby multitudes who have no sympathy with you, to whom you are not onlywholly 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 Godevery where; you feel his presence, and rely on his protection. Everything in a city is artificial, the predominant idea is man; and man, under circumstances like the present, is neither your friend norprotector. You form no part of the social system here. Gregarious bynature, you cannot associate; dependent, you cannot attach yourself; arational being, you cannot interchange ideas. In seeking the wildernessyou enter the abode of solitude, and are naturally and voluntarilyalone. On visiting a city, on the contrary, you enter the residence ofman, and if you are forced into isolation there, to you it is worse thana desert. 

"I know of nothing so depressing as this feeling of unconnectedindividuality, amidst a dense population like this. But, my friend, there is One who never forsakes us either in the throng or thewilderness, whose ear is always open to our petitions, and who hasinvited us to rely on his goodness and mercy. "

"You hadn't ought to feel lonely here, Minister, " said Mr. Slick. "It'sa place we have a right to boast of is Liverpool; we built it, and I'lltell you what it is, to build two such cities as New York and Liverpoolin the short time we did, is sunthin' to brag of. If there had been noNew York, there would have been no Liverpool; but if there had been noLiverpool, there would have been a New York though. They couldn't donothin' 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'tsteer, and if she sail'd and steer'd, she upsot; there was always ascrew loose somewhere. 

"It cost us a great deal too to build them ere great docks. They coverabout 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 wepay for all this, we hante got the direction of the works. "

"If you have paid for all these things, " said I, "you had betterlay claim to Liverpool. Like the disputed territory (to which it nowappears, you knew you had no legal or equitable claim), it is probableyou will have half of it ceded to you, for the purpose of conciliation. I admire this boast of yours uncommonly. It reminds me of theconversation we had some years ago, about the device on your "navalbutton, " of the eagle holding an anchor in its claws--that nationalemblem of ill-directed ambition and vulgar pretension. "

"I thank you for that hint, " said Mr. Slick, "I was in jeest like; butthere is more in it, for all that, than you'd think. It ain't literalfact, but it is figurative truth. But now I'll shew you sunthin' inthis town, that's as false as parjury, sunthin that's a disgrace to thiscountry and an insult to our great nation, and there is no jeest in itnother, but a downright lie; and, since you go for to throw up to me ournaval 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 Englishadmiral 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, "Therehe is as big as life, five feet nothin', with his shoes on. Now examinethat monument, and tell me if the English don't know how to brag, aswell as some other folks, and whether they don't brag too sumtimes, whenthey hante got no right to. There is four figures there a representingthe four quarters of the globe in chains, and among them America, acrouchin' 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 everwhipped us, will you? Just tell me the day of the year he was ever ableto do it, since his mammy cut the apron string and let him run to seekhis fortin'. Heavens and airth, we'd a chawed him right up!

"No, there never was an officer among you, that had any thing to bragof about us but one, and he wasn't a Britisher--he was a despisableBlue-nose colonist boy of Halifax. When his captain was took belowwounded, he was leftenant, so he jist ups and takes command o' theShannon, and fit like a tiger and took our splendid frigate theChesapeake, and that was sumthing to brag on. And what did he get forit? Why colony sarce, half-pay, and leave to make room for Englishersto go over his head; and here is a lyin' false monument, erected to thisman that never even see'd one of our national ships, much less smeltthunder and lightning out of one, that English like, has got this forwhat he didn't do. 

"I am sorry Mr. Lett [Footnote: This was the man that blew up the Brockmonument in Canada. _He was a Patriot_. ] is dead to Canada, or I'd givehim a hint about this. I'd say, 'I hope none of our free and enlightenedcitizens will blow this lyin', swaggerin', bullyin' monument up? Ishould 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 comecon_trary_ ways sometimes, and I shouldn't much wonder if it braggedtill 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 whatthe 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 makematters wus, as if this warn't bad enough, them four emblem figures, have great heavy iron chains on 'em, and a great enormous sneezer ofa lion has one part o' the chain in its mouth, and is a-growlin' anda-grinnin' and a-snarling at 'em like mad, as much as to say, 'if youdare to move the sixteen hundredth part of an inch, I will fall to andmake mincemeat of you, in less than half no time. I don't think therenever was nothin' so bad as this, ever seen since the days of old daddyAdam down to this present blessed day, I don't indeed. So don't come forto go, Squire, to tarnt me with the Eagle and the anchor no more, for Idon't like it a bit; you'd better look to your '_Nelson monument_' andlet us alone. So come now!"

Amidst much that was coarse, and more that was exaggerated, there wasstill some foundation for the remarks of the Attache. 

"You arrogate a little too much to yourselves, " I observed, "inconsidering the United States as all America. At the time thesebrilliant deeds were achieved, which this monument is intended tocommemorate, the Spaniards owned a very much greater portion of thetransatlantic continent than you now do, and their navy composed a partof 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 scarcelyto deserve the name of one; nor had you won for yourselves that highcharacter, which you now so justly enjoy, for skill and gallantry. Iagree with you, however, in thinking the monument is in bad taste. Thename of Lord Nelson is its own monument. It will survive when theseperishable structures, which the pride or the gratitude of hiscountrymen have erected to perpetuate his fame, shall have moulderedinto dust, and been forgotten for ever. If visible objects are thoughtnecessary to suggest the mention of his name oftener that it wouldotherwise occur to the mind, they should be such as to improve thetaste, 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 '_NelsonMonument_. '"

CHAPTER XI. COTTAGES. 

On the tenth day after we landed at Liverpool, we arrived in London andsettled ourselves very comfortably in lodgings at No. 202, Piccadilly, where every possible attention was paid to us by our landlord and hiswife, Mr. And Mrs. Weeks. We performed the journey in a post-chaise, fearing that the rapid motion of a rail car might have an unpleasanteffect upon the health of Mr. Hope well. 

Of the little incidents of travel that occurred to us, or of the variousobjects of attraction on the route, it is not my intention to giveany account. Our journey was doubtless much like the journeys of otherpeople, 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 ofanother kind. I shall therefore pass over this and other subsequentjourneys, with no other remark, than that they were performed, untilsomething shall occur illustrative of the objects I have in view. 

On this occasion I shall select from my diary a description of thelabourer's cottage, and the parish church; because the one shews thehabits, tastes, and condition of the poor of this country, in contrastwith that of America--and the other, the relative means of religiousinstruction, and its effect on the lower orders. 

On the Saturday morning, while preparing to resume our journey, whichwas now nearly half completed, Mr. Hopewell expressed a desire to remainat the inn where we were, until the following Monday. As the day wasfine, he said he should like to ramble about the neighbourhood, andenjoy the fresh air. His attention was soon drawn to some very beautifulnew cottages. 

"These, " said he, "are no doubt erected at the expense, and for thegratification of some great landed proprietor. They are not the abodesof ordinary labourers, but designed for some favoured dependant or agedservant. They are expensive toys, but still they are not without theiruse. They diffuse a taste among the peasantry--they present them withmodels, which, though they cannot imitate in costliness of material orfinish, they can copy in arrangement, and in that sort of decoration, which flowers, and vines, and culture, and care can give. Let us seekone which is peculiarly the poor man's cottage, and let us go in and seewho and what they are, how they live, and above all, how they think andtalk. 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 stragglingthorn hedge. At its termination was an irregular cottage with a thatchedroof, which projected over the windows in front. The latter werelatticed 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 wasmade of two transverse parts, the upper half of which was open. On oneside was a basket-like cage containing a magpie, and on the other, acat lay extended on a bench, dozing in the warmth of the sun. The bluesmoke, curling upwards from a crooked chimney, afforded proof of someone 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 appearancefrom the pear, apple, thorn and cherry being all in full bloom. We werereceived at the door by a middle-aged woman, with the ruddy glow ofhealth on her cheeks, and dressed in coarse, plain, but remarkably neatand suitable, attire. As this was a cottage selected at random, andvisited without previous intimation of our intention, I took particularnotice of every thing I saw, because I regarded its appearance as a fairspecimen 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 andantique dress, his simplicity of manner, every thing, in short, abouthim, at once attracted attention and conciliated favour. 

Mrs. Hodgins, for such was her name, received us with that mixture ofrespect and ease, which shewed she was accustomed to converse with hersuperiors. She was dressed in a blue homespun gown, (the sleeves ofwhich were drawn up to her elbows and the lower part tucked through herpocket-hole, ) a black stuff petticoat, black stockings and shoes withthe soles more than half an inch thick. She wore also, a large whiteapron, and a neat and by no means unbecoming cap. She informed us herhusband was a gardener's labourer, that supported his family by hisdaily work, and by the proceeds of the little garden attached to thehouse, 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, ofwhich was filled with brass candlesticks, large and small, some queerold-fashioned lamps, snuffers and trays, polished to a degree ofbrightness, that was dazzling. A dresser was carried round the wall, filled with plates and dishes, and underneath were exhibited theordinary culinary utensils, in excellent order. A small table stoodbefore the fire, with a cloth of spotless whiteness spread upon it, asif in preparation for a meal. A few stools completed the furniture. 

Passing through this place, we were shewn into the parlour, a small roomwith a sanded floor. Against the sides were placed some old, dark, andhighly polished chairs, of antique form and rude workmanship. Thewalls were decorated with several coloured prints, illustrative of thePilgrim's Progress and hung in small red frames of about six inchessquare. The fire-place was filled with moss, and its mantel-shelf hadits china sheep and sheperdesses, and a small looking-glass, the wholebeing surmounted by a gun hung transversely. The Lord's Prayer and theTen Commandments worked in worsted, were suspended in a wooden framebetween the windows, which had white muslin blinds, and opened onhinges, like a door. A cupboard made to fit the corner, in a mannerto economise room, was filled with china mugs, cups and saucers ofdifferent sizes and patterns, some old tea-spoons and a plated tea-pot. 

There was a small table opposite to the window, which Contained halfa dozen books. One of these was large, handsomely bound, and decoratedwith gilt edged paper. Mr. Hopewell opened it, and expressed greatsatisfaction 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 hadthus appropriated his first earnings to the gratification of his mother. 

"Creditable to you both, dear, " said Mr. Hopewell: "to you, because itis a proof how well you have instructed him; and to him, that he so wellappreciated and so faithfully remembered those lessons of duty. "

He then inquired into the state of her family, whether the boy who wastraining a peach-tree against the end of the house was her son, and manyother matters not necessary to record with the same precision that Ihave enumerated the furniture. 

"Oh, here is a pretty little child!" said he. "Come here, dear, andshake hands along with me. What beautiful hair she has! and she looksso clean and nice, too. Every thing and every body here is so neat, sotidy, and so appropriate. Kiss me, dear; and then talk to me; for I lovelittle children. 'Suffer them to come unto me, ' said our Master, 'for ofsuch is the kingdom of Heaven:' that is, that we should resemble theselittle 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 yourmother. 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 wayshe 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 thereward 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 manas me, and never will again; and one, too, that came from a far-offcountry, three thousand miles off; it would take you a long time tocount 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 somethingto her, of which, the only words that met my ear were "a trump, " "abrick, " "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 tosmoke. 

"Indeed I would, dear, but I have no pipe here. "

She said her old man smoked of an evening, after his work was done, andthat she could give him a pipe and some tobacco, if he would condescendto use them; and going to the cupboard, she produced a long white claypipe and some cut tobacco. 

Having filled and lighted his pipe, Mr. Hopewell said, "What church doyou go to, dear?"

"The parish church, Sir. "

"Right; you will hear Sound doctrine and good morals preached there. Ohthis a fortunate country, Sam, for the state provides for the religiousinstruction of the poor. Where the voluntary system prevails, the poorhave to give from their poverty, or go without; and their gifts are sosmall, that they can purchase but little. It's a beautiful system, acharitable 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 shewould have died but for the attentions of those young ladies; and whenshe grew better, they sent her wine and nourishing things from their owntable. They will be so glad to see you. Sir, at the Priory. Oh, I wishyou could see them!"

"There it is, Sam, " he continued "That illustrates what I always toldyou of their social system here. We may boast of our independence, butthat independence produces isolation. There is an individuality aboutevery man and every family in America, that gives no right of inquiry, and imposes no duty of relief on any one. Sickness, and sorrow, andtrouble, are not divulged; joy, success, and happiness are not imparted. If we are independent in our thoughts and actions, so are we left tosustain the burden of our own ills. How applicable to our state isthat passage of Scripture, 'The heart knoweth its own bitterness, and astranger 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 spiritualwants are ministered to, faithfully and zealously, as we see by theinstruction of that little child. Here is a friend upon whom they canrely 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 manof God, and shut the door on him, and went out. ' And when a long trainof agitation, mis-government, and ill-digested changes have derangedthis happy country, as has recently been the case, here is an indulgentlandlord, 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, andadvice, to alleviate their trouble. Here it is, a positive duty arisingfrom their relative situations of landlord and tenant. The tenantssupport the owner, the landlord protects the tenants: the duties arereciprocal. 

"With _us_ the duties, as far as Christian duties can be said to beoptional, are voluntary; and the voluntary discharge of duties, likethe voluntary support of religion, we know, from sad experience, to besometimes imperfectly performed, at others intermitted, and often whollyneglected. 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 sucha family as this against their best friends, their pastor and theirlandlord; to instil dissatisfaction and distrust into their simpleminds, and to teach them to loathe the hand, that proffers nothing butregard or relief. It is shocking, isn't it?"

"That's what I often say, Sir, " said Mrs. Hodgins, "to my old man, tokeep 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 todo with them. Five pints! why that is two quarts and a half; that istoo much to drink if it was water; and if any thing else, it is beastlydrunkenness. 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: youwill find it rather sour in the apple sarce, and tough in the paste, Itell _you_. "

"Yes, Sir, " she replied, "but they are a unsettling of his mind. Whatshall I do? for I don't like these night meetings, and he always comeshome from 'em cross and sour-like. "

"Well, I am sorry to hear that, " said Mr. Hopewell, "I wish I could seehim; but I can't, for I am bound on a journey. I am sorry to hearit, dear. Sam, this country is so beautiful, so highly cultivated, soadorned by nature and art, and contains so much comfort and happiness, that it resembles almost the garden of Eden. But, Sam, the Serpent ishere, the Serpent is here beyond a doubt. It changes its shape, andalters its name, and takes a new colour, but still it is the Serpent, and it ought to be crushed. Sometimes it calls itself liberal, thenradical, then chartist, then agitator, then repealer, then politicaldissenter, then anti-corn leaguer, and so on. Sometimes it stings theclergy, and coils round them, and almost strangles them, for it knowsthe Church is its greatest enemy, and it is furious against it. Then itattacks the peers, and covers them with its froth and slaver, and thenit bites the landlord. Then it changes form, and shoots at the Queen, orher ministers, and sets fire to buildings, and burns up corn to increasedistress; and, when hunted away, it dives down into the collieries, orvisits the manufactories, and maddens the people, and urges them on toplunder and destruction. It's a melancholy thing to think of; but he isas of old, alive and active, seeing whom he can allure and deceive, andwhoever listens is ruined for ever. 

"Stay, dear, I'll tell you what I will do for you. I'll inquire aboutthese Chartists; and when I go to London, I will write a little tractso plain that any child may read it and understand it; and call it _TheChartist_, 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 thisworld; but I shall often think of you, and often speak of you. I shalltell my people of the comforts, of the neatness, of the beauty of anEnglish cottage. May God bless you, and so regulate your mind as topreserve in you a reverence for his holy word, an obedience to thecommands of your Spiritual Pastor, and a respect for all that are placedin authority over you!"

"Well, it is pretty, too, is this cottage, " said Mr. Slick, as westrolled back to the inn, "but the handsumestest thing is to hear thatgood 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 asquirrel in a cage, in it; you have to run round and round, and don't goforward none. What would a man do with a rifle here? For my part, I havea taste for the wild woods; it comes on me regular in the fall, like thelake fever, and I up gun, and off for a week or two, and camp out, andget a snuff of the spruce-wood air, and a good appetite, and a bit offresh ven'son to sup on at night. 

"I shall be off to the highlands this fall; but, cuss em, they hante gotno woods there; nothin' but heather, and thats only high enough to tearyour clothes. That's the reason the Scotch don't wear no breeches, theydon't like to get 'em ragged up that way for everlastinly, they can'tafford it; so they let em scratch and tear their skin, for that willgrow 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 havebeen so well housed as that. There is some little difference atween thatcottage and a log hut of a poor back emigrant settler, you and I knowwhere. Did ever I tell you of the night I spent at Lake Teal, with oldJudge 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 madeof sticks, stones, mud holes, and broken bridges. It was een amostonpassible, and who should I overtake on the way but the Judge, and hisguide, on horseback, and Lawyer Traverse a-joggin' along in his gig, atthe rate of two miles an hour at the fardest. 

"'Mornin, ' sais the Judge, for he was a sociable man, and had a kindword for every body, had the Judge. Few men 'know'd human natur' betternor he did, and what he used to call the philosophy of life. 'I amglad to see you on the road, Mr. Slick, sais he, 'for it is so bad Iam 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 shouldmake a poor journey on't, on account of that lawyer critter's gig, thathadn't no more busness on that rough track than a steam engine had. ButI see'd the Judge wanted me to stay company, and help him along, and soI 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'sjist a road for it, ain't it?'

"Well we chattered along the road this way a leetle, jist a leetlefaster than we travelled, for we made a snail's gallop of it, that's afact; 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, anddark was settin' in, we dismounted, but oh, what a house it was!

"Obi was an emigrant, and those emigrants are ginerally so fond ofownin' the soil, that like misers, they carry as much of it about 'emon their parsons, in a common way, as they cleverly can. Some on 'emare awful dirty folks, that's a fact, and Obi was one of them. He keptpublic, did Obi; the sign said it was a house of entertainment for manand beast. For critters that ain't human, I do suppose it spoke thetruth, 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 effecton me. 

"The house was built of rough spruce logs, (the only thing spruce aboutit), 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 thechimbly peeped out like a black pot, made of sticks and mud, the waya crow's nest is. The winders were half broke out, and stopped up withshingles 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. Itlooked like an old hat on a dung heap. I pitied the old Judge, becausehe 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 bestwarn't good. 

"Well, the house stood alone in the middle of a clearin', without anouthouse of any sort or kind about it, or any fence or enclosure, butjist rose up as a toodstool grows, all alone in the field. Close behindit was a thick short second growth of young birches, about fifteen feethigh, 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 guidewith 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' roomor shelter in it for the hosses. So the lawyer hitches his critter toa tree, and goes and fetches up some fodder for him, and leaves him forthe night, to weather it as he could. As soon as he goes in, I takesOld Clay to the barn, for it's a maxim of mine always to look out arternumber one, opens the door, and pulls out sheaf arter sheaf of grain asfast as I could, and throws it out, till I got a place big enough forhim to crawl in. 

"'Now, ' sais I, 'old boy, ' as I shot to the door arter him, 'if thathole 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 allday, came down like smoke, and the wind got up, and it blew like a younghurricane, and the lake roared dismal; it was an awful night, and it washard 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 badthing to be well housed in a night like this, is it?'

"The critter groaned, for both cases was so 'bad he didn't know whichto take up to defend, so he grinned horrid and said nothin'; and it wasenough to make him grin too, that's a fact. He looked as if he had gothold on a bill o' pains and penalties instead of a bill of costs thattime, you may depend. 

"Inside of the house was three rooms, the keepin' room, where we was allhalf circled round the fire, and two sleepin' rooms off of it. One ofthese Obi had, who was a-bed, groanin', coughin', and turnin' over andover all the time on the creakin' bedstead with pleurisy; t'other wasfor the judge. The loft was for the old woman, his mother, and thehearth, or any other soft place we could find, was allocated for lawyerand me. 

"What a scarecrow lookin' critter old aunty was, warn't she? She was allin rags and tatters, and though she lived 'longside of the lake thebest part of her emigrant life, had never used water since she waschristened. Her eyes were so sunk in her head, they looked like twoburnt holes in a blanket. Her hair was pushed back, and tied so tightwith 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 nostockins on her legs, and no heels to her shoes, so she couldn't lifther feet up, for fear of droppin' off her slippers; but she just shovedand 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 wasso yaller and wrinkled, and hard and oily, she looked jist like a driedsmoked red herrin', she did upon my soul. 

"The floor of the room was blacker nor ink, because that is palesometimes; and the utenshils, oh, if the fire didn't purify 'em nowand 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 hobbledround arter them, bangin' them with a fryin' pan, till she seemed outo' breath. Every time she took less and less notice of 'em, for shewas 'most beat out herself, and was busy a gettin' of the tea-kettle tobile, and it appeared to me she was a-goin' to give in and let 'em sleepwith 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, outswith the tongs, and seizes the old sow by the tail, and holds on tillI singes it beautiful. The way she let go ain't no matter, but if shedidn't yell it's a pity, that's all. She made right straight for thedoor, dashed in atween old aunty's legs, and carries her out on herback, ridin' straddle-legs like a man, and tumbles her head over heelsin the duck pond of dirty water outside, and then lays down along sideof 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 voicewarn't so good, poor thing! she was too old for that, it sounded like acracked bell; it was loud enough, but it warn't jist so clear. She camein 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 wayshe let out agin pigs, travellers and houses of entertainment, was acaution to sinners. She vowed she'd stop public next mornin', and bileher kettle with the sign; folks might entertain themselves and be hangedto 'em, for all her, that they might. Then she mounted a ladder and goesup into the loft-to change. 

"'Judge' sais I, 'I am sorry, too, I singed that pig's tail arter thatfashion, for the smell of pork chops makes me feel kinder hungry, and ifwe had 'em, no soul could eat 'em here in such a stye as this. But, dearme, ' sais I, 'You'd better move, Sir; that old woman is juicy, and Isee it a comin' through the cracks of the floor above, like a streak ofmolasses. 

"'Mr. Slick, ' sais he, 'this is dreadful. I never saw any thing so badbefore in all this country; but what can't be cured must be endured, Ido suppose. We must only be good-natured and do the best we can, that'sall. An emigrant house is no place to stop at, is it? There is a tincase, ' sais he, 'containin' a cold tongue and some biscuits, in myportmanter; please to get them out. You must act as butler to-night, ifyou 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 theeatables, and then he produced a pocket pistol, for he was a sensibleman was the judge, and we made a small check, for there warn't enoughfor a feed. 

"Arter that, he takes out a night-cap, and fits it on tight, and thenputs on his cloak, and wraps the hood of it close over his head, andfoldin' himself up in it, he went and laid down without ondressin'. Thelawyer took a stretch for it on the bench, with his gig cushions for apillar, and I makes up the fire, sits down on the chair, puts my legs upon 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 strongwaters: arter goin' the whole hog that way, you must need some, ' and Ipoured her out a stiff corker into one of her mugs, put some sugar andhot 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 aknife. It hurt me properly, that's a fact, and has most broke my crupperbone. ' And she put her hand behind her, and moaned piteous. 

"'Pig skin, ' sais I, 'aunty, is well enough when made into a saddle, butit 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. Stiflinga 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 foryourself. 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 muchsleep that night. The pigs kept close to the door, a shovin' agin itevery now and then, to see all was right for a dash in, if the bearscame; and the geese kept sentry too agin the foxes; and one old fellerwould squake out "all's well" every five minuts, as he marched up anddown and back agin on the bankin' of the house. 

"But the turkeys was the wust. They was perched upon the lee side of theroof, and sometimes an eddy of wind would take a feller right slap offhis 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' upinto line agin. They are very fond of straight, lines is turkeys. Inever see an old gobbler, with his gorget, that I don't think of akernel of a marchin' regiment, and if you'll listen to him and watchhim, he'll strut jist like one, and say, 'halt! dress!' oh, he is amilitary man is a turkey cock: he wears long spurs, carries a stiffneck, and charges at red cloth, like a trooper. 

"Well then a little cowardly good natured cur, that lodged in an emptyflour barrel, near the wood pile, gave out a long doleful howl, now andagin, to show these outside passengers, if he couldn't fight for 'em, hecould at all events cry for 'em, and it ain't every goose has a mournerto 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. Thepigs 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 thegrove, lookin' as peeked and as forlorn, as an onmated loon. 

"'What's the matter of you, Squire?' sais I. 'You look like a man thatwas ready to make a speech; but your witness hadn't come, or you hadn'tgot no jury. '

"'Somebody has stole my horse, ' said he. 

"Well, I know'd he was near-sighted, was lawyer, and couldn't see a pintclear of his nose, unless it was a pint o' law. So I looks all round andthere was his hoss, a-standin' on the bridge, with his long tail hangingdown straight at one eend, and his long neck and head a banging downstraight at t'other eend, so that you couldn't tell one from t'other orwhich eend was towards you. It was a clear cold mornin'. The storm wasover and the wind down, and there was a frost on the ground. The critterwas cold I suppose, and had broke the rope and walked off to stretch hislegs. 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 dosuppose he can't feel it. '

"Well, as soon as we could, we started; but afore we left, sais theJudge to me, 'Mr. Slick, ' sais he, 'here is a plaister, ' taking outa pound note, 'a plaister for the skin the pig rubbed off of the oldwoman. Give it to her, I hope it is big enough to cover it. ' And he fellback on the bed, and larfed and coughed, and coughed and larfed, tillthe tears ran down his cheeks. 

"Yes, " said Mr. Slick, "yes, Squire, this is a pretty cottage of MarmHodgins; but we have cottages quite as pretty as this, our side of thewater, arter all. They are not all like Obi Rafuses, the immigrant. Thenatives have different guess places, where you might eat off the floora'most, all's so clean. P'raps we hante the hedges, and flowers, andvines 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 quiteunique. There is not only nothing equal to it, but nothing of its kindat 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, whichwere presented by the servant, were soon followed by the gentlementhemselves. 

Mr. Merton said he had been informed by Mrs. Hodgins of our visit to hercottage, and from her account of our conversation and persons, he wasconvinced we could be no other than the party described in the "Sayingsand Doings of Mr. Samuel Slick, " as about to visit England with theAttache. He expressed great pleasure in having the opportunity of makingour acquaintance, and entreated us to spend a few days with him at thePriory. This invitation we were unfortunately compelled to decline, inconsequence of urgent business in London, where our immediate presencewas indispensable. 

The rector then pressed Mr. Hopewell to preach for him, on the followingday at the parish church, which he also declined. He said, that hehad no sermons with him, and that he had very great objections toextemporaneous preaching, which he thought should never be resorted toexcept in cases of absolute necessity. He, however, at last consented todo so, on condition that Mrs. Hodgins and her husband attended, andupon being assured that it was their invariable custom to be present, he said, he thought it not impossible, that he might make an impressionupon _him_, and as it was his maxim never to omit an opportunity ofdoing 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 shallendeavour to describe it with some minuteness. 

We walked to the church by a path over the hills, and heard the bells ofa number of little churches, summoning the surrounding population to theHouse of God. The roads and the paths were crowded with the peasantryand their children, approaching the church-yard in different directions. The church and the rectory were contiguous to each other, and situatedin a deep dell. 

The former was a long and rather low structure, originally built oflight coloured stone, which had grown grey with time. It had a largesquare steeple, with pointed corners, like turrets, each of which wasfurnished with a vane, but some of these ornaments were loose and turnedround in a circle, while others stood still and appeared to be examiningwith true rustic curiosity, the condition of their neighbours. 

The old rectory stood close to the church and was very irregularlybuilt, one part looking as if it had stepped forward to take a peep atus, and another as if endeavouring to conceal itself from view, behinda screen of ivy. The windows which were constructed of diamond-shapedglass, were almost square, and opened on hinges. Nearly half of thehouse was covered by a rose-tree, from which the lattices peered veryinquisitively upon the assembled congregation. Altogether it looked likethe residence of a vigilant man, who could both see and be unseen if hepleased. 

Near the door of the church were groups of men in their cleansmock-frocks and straw hats, and of women in their tidy dark dresses andwhite aprons. The children all looked clean, healthy, and cheerful. 

The interior of the church was so unlike that of an American one, thatmy attention was irresistibly drawn to its peculiarities. It was low, and divided in the centre by an arch. The floor was of stone, and fromlong and constant use, very uneven in places. The pews were much higheron 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, andmuch worn. 

The windows were long and narrow, and placed very high in the walls. Onthe one over the altar was a very old painting, on stained glass, of theVirgin, with a hoop and yellow petticoat, crimson vest, a fly cap, andvery thick shoes. The light of this window was still further subdued bya fine old yew-tree, which stood in the yard close behind it. 

There was another window of beautifully stained glass, the light ofwhich fell on a large monument, many feet square, of white marble. Inthe centre of this ancient and beautiful work of art, were two principalfigures, with smaller ones kneeling on each side, having the handsraised in the attitude of prayer. They were intended to represent someof the ancestors of the Merton family. The date was as old as 1575. Onvarious 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 oldoak rafters, which were more numerous, than was requisite, either forstrength or ornament, were massive and curiously put together, givingthis part of the building a heavy and gloomy appearance. 

As we entered the church, Mr. Hopewell said he had selected a textsuitable to the times, and that he would endeavour to save thepoor people in the neighbourhood from the delusions of the chartistdemagogues, who, it appeared, were endeavouring to undermine the throneand the altar, and bring universal ruin upon the country. 

When he ascended the pulpit to preach, his figure, his great age, andhis sensible and benevolent countenance, attracted universal attention. I had never seen him officiate till this day; but if I was struck withhis venerable appearance before, I was now lost in admiration of hisrich and deep-toned voice, his peculiar manner, and simple style ofeloquence. 

He took for his text these words: "So Absalom stole the hearts of themen of Israel. " He depicted, in a very striking manner, the arts of thisintriguing and ungrateful man to ingratiate himself with the people, andrender the government unpopular. He traced his whole course, from hisstanding at the crowded thoroughfare, and lamenting that the king haddeputed no one to hear and decide upon the controversies of the people, to his untimely end, and the destruction of his ignorant followers. Hemade 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 causemight come unto me, and _I_ would do him justice. " He showed the effectof these empty and wicked promises upon his followers, who in the holyrecord of this unnatural rebellion are described as "men who went out intheir simplicity, and knew not anything. "

He then said that similar arts were used in all ages for similarpurposes; and that these professions of disinterested patriotism werethe common pretences by which wicked men availed themselves of theanimal force of those "who assemble in their simplicity, and know notany thing, " to achieve their own personal aggrandisement, and warnedthem, to give no heed to such dishonest people. He then drew a pictureof the real blessings they enjoyed in this happy country, which, thoughnot without an admixture of evil, were as many and as great as theimperfect and unequal condition of man was capable either of impartingor receiving. 

Among the first of these, he placed the provision made by the state forthe instruction of the poor, by means of an established Church. He saidthey would doubtless hear this wise and pious deed of their forefathersattacked also by unprincipled men; and falsehood and ridicule would beinvoked to aid in the assault; but that he was a witness on its behalf, from the distant wilderness of North America, where the voice ofgratitude was raised to England, whose missionaries had planted a churchthere similar to their own, and had proclaimed the glad tidings ofsalvation to those who would otherwise have still continued to livewithout its pale. 

He then pourtrayed in a rapid and most masterly manner the sin and thedisastrous consequences of rebellion; pointed out the necessity thatexisted for vigilance and defined their respective duties to God, andto those who, by his permission, were set in authority over them; andconcluded with the usual benediction, which, though I had heard iton similar occasions all my life, seemed now more efficacious, morepaternal, and more touching than ever, when uttered by him, in hispeculiarly patriarchal manner. 

The abstract I have just given, I regret to say, cannot convey anyadequate idea of this powerful, excellent, and appropriate sermon. Itwas listened to with intense interest by the congregation, many of whomwere affected to tears. In the afternoon we attended church again, whenwe heard a good, plain, and practical discourse from the rector; but, unfortunately, he had neither the talent, nor the natural eloquence ofour 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 oldman now; take my arm--it will support me in my walk. "

It was thus that this good man, while honouring this poor woman, avoidedthe appearance of condescension, and received her arm as a favour tohimself. 

She commenced thanking him for his sermon in the morning. She said ithad convinced her William of the sin of the Chartist agitation, and thathe had firmly resolved never to meet them again. It had saved him fromruin, 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, neverallude to them: make his home cheerful, make it the pleasantest placehe can find any where, and he won't want to seek amusement elsewhere, or excitement either; for these seditious meetings intoxicate by theirexcitement. Oh! I am very glad I have touched him; that I have preventedthese seditious men from 'stealing his heart. '"

In this way they chatted, until they arrived at the cottage, whichHodgins had just reached by a shorter, but more rugged path. 

"It is such a lovely afternoon, " said Mr. Hopewell, "I believe I willrest in this arbour here awhile, and enjoy the fresh breeze, and theperfume of your honeysuckles and flowers. "

"Wouldn't a pipe be better, Minister?" said Mr. Slick. "For my part, Idon't think any thing equal to the flavour of rael good gene_wine_ firstchop tobacco. "

"Well, it is a great refreshment, is tobacco, " said Mr. Hopewell. "Idon't care if I do take a pipe. Bring me one, Mr. Hodgins, and one foryourself also, and I will smoke and talk with you awhile, for they seemas natural to each other, as eating and drinking do. "

As soon as these were produced, Mr. Slick and I retired, and requestedMrs. 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 abook; for if he was possessed of the spirit of a devil, instead of aChartist, 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 hedon'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'tthere, atween this country church, and a country meetin' house our sideof 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 willsay 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, andis a leetle behind the enlightment of the age like, with its queer oldfixin's and what not; but still it looks solemcoly' don't it, and thedim light seems as if we warn't expected to be a lookin' about, and asif 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 isa brick ain't he? or, whether it's the place, or the place and himtogether; but somehow, or somehow else, I feel more serious to-daythan common, that's a fact. The people too are all so plain dressed, sodecent, 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 splendidlookin' 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 ofthe Squire's about here, the butlers and ladies' maids; and superfineuppercrust lookin' folks they be too. 

"Then every body walks here, even Squire Merton and his splendiriferousgalls walked like the poorest of the poor, there was no carriage to thedoor, 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 enquiredarter their families. It may he actin', but if it is, it's plaguy goodactin', 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 matterof several inches right out of the ground, as stiff as a poker, straightup and down, with a spick and span new green coat and a red nose, asproud as Lucifer. Well, I call all upstarts 'hops, ' and I believe it'sonly "hops" arter all that's scorny. 

"Yes, I kinder like an English country church, only it's a leetle, jista leetle too old fashioned for me. Folks look a leetle too much likegrandfather Slick, and the boys used to laugh at him, and call him abenighted Britisher. Perhaps that's the cause of my prejudice, and yet Imust say, British or no British, it tante bad, is it?

"The meetin' houses 'our side of the water, ' no matter where, but awayup in the back country, how teetotally different they be! bean't they?A great big, handsome wooden house, chock full of winders, painted sowhite as to put your eyes out, and so full of light within, that insideseems all out-doors, and no tree nor bush, nor nothin' near it butthe road fence, with a man to preach in it, that is so strict andstraight-laced he will do _any thing_ of a week day, and _nothin'_ ofa Sunday. Congregations are rigged out in their spic and span bran newclothes, silks, satins, ribbins, leghorns, palmetters, kiss-me-quicks, and all sorts of rigs, and the men in their long-tail-blues, pig-skinpads calf-skin boots and sheep-skin saddle-cloths. Here they publish abook of fashions, there they publish 'em in meetin'; and instead of apictur, have the rael naked truth. 

"Preacher there don't preach morals, because that's churchy, and hedon't like neither the church nor its morals; but he preaches doctrine, which doctrine is, there's no Christians but themselves. Well, thefences 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 forhosses and waggons, and gigs hitched there; poor devils of hossesthat have ploughed, or hauled, or harrowed, or logged, or snaked, orsomethin' 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, ahole higher or a hole lower. Women that has all their finery on can'twalk, and some things is ondecent. It's as ondecent for a woman tobe seen walkin' to meetin', as it is to be caught at--what shall Isay?--why caught at attendin' to her business to home. 

"The women are the fust and the last to meetin'; fine clothes costsunthin', and if they ain't showed, what's the use of them? The men folkremind me of the hosses to Sable Island. It's a long low sand-bank onNova Scotia coast, thirty miles long and better is Sable Island, and notmuch higher than the water. It has awful breakers round it, and picksup a shockin' sight of vessels does that island. Government keeps asuper-intender there and twelve men to save wracked people, and there isa herd of three hundred wild hosses kept there for food for saved crewsthat land there, when provision is short, or for super-intender to catchand 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 himoff to the stable-yard, and breaks him in, in no time. A smart littlehoss he is too, but he always has an _eye to natur'_ arterwards; _thechange 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 andontamed men folk are on the fences, outside a settin' on the top rail, aspeculatin' 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 ofa 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, andswearin' the hosses had got loose, and they was just a fetchin' of themback. 

"'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 thetwo critters together by the tail. This is old Mother Pitcher's waggon;her hoss kicks like a grasshopper. Lengthen the breechin', and whenaunty starts, he'll make all fly agin into shavin's, like a plane. Whois 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; callout whoh! and he'll stop short, and pitch Tom right over his head on thebroad 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 anawful crash and an awful shout; and away goes two or three hosses thathave broke their bridles, and off home like wink. 

"Out comes Elder Sourcrout. 'Them as won't come in had better stay tohome, ' sais he. And when he hears that them as are in had better stay inwhen 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 backin time to walk home with the galls from night meetin', by airlycandle-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 alwaysbaptise 'em as we do, when children, but let 'em grow up wild in theherd till they are wanted. They have hard work to break 'em in, for theyare smart ones, that's a fact, but, like the hosses of Sable Island, they have always _an eye to natur'_ arterwards; _the change is toosudden_, 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 doesthe 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 theprint there? Why it's this. As soon as he sees over-righteous stalk byarter that fashion, it says, 'How good we are, ain't we? Who wet his hayto the lake tother day, on his way to market, and made two tons weightwo tons and a half? You'd better look as if butter wouldn't melt inyour mouth, hadn't you, old Sugar-cane?'

"Now jist foller them two rulin' elders, Sourcrout and Coldslaugh; theyare plaguy jealous of their neighbour, elder Josh Chisel, that exhortedto-day. 'How did you like Brother Josh, to-day?' says Sourcrout, autterin' 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 nomistake in the nose; it's the porch of the temple that. 'How did youlike 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 likea turkey-cock, and says he, 'It's for ever and ever the same thing withBrother Josh. He is like an over-shot mill, one everlastin' wishy-washystream. '

"'When the water ain't quite enough to turn the wheel, and onlyspatters, spatters, spatters, ' says Coldslaugh. 

"Sourcrout gig goggles again, as if he was swallerin' shelled cornwhole. 'That trick of wettin' the hay, ' says he, 'to make it weighheavy, warn't cleverly done; it ain't pretty to be caught; it's onlybunglers do that. '

"'He is so fond of temperance, ' says Coldslaugh, 'he wanted to make hishay jine society, and drink cold water, too. '

"Sourcrout gig goggles ag'in, till he takes a fit of the asmy, sets downon a stump, claps both hands on his sides, and coughs, and coughs tillhe finds coughing no joke no more. Oh dear, dear convarted men, thoughthey 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 thevoluntary in this world, it would die a nateral death; not that _menwouldn't support it_, but because it would be supported _under falsepretences_. Truth can't be long upheld by falsehood. Hypocrisy wouldchange its features, and intolerance its name; and religion wouldsoon degenerate into a cold, intriguing, onprincipled, marcilesssuperstition, 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 asfor Minister pretendin' for to come for to go for to preach agin thatbeautiful long-haired young rebel, Squire Absalom, for 'stealin' thehearts 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 Homilythat preached afore us, nor never was, nor never will be equal to OldMinister hisself for 'stealin' the hearts of the people. '"

CHAPTER XIII. NATUR'. 

In the course of our journey, the conversation turned upon the severalseries of the "Clockmaker" I had published, and their relative merits. Mr. Slick appeared to think they all owed their popularity mainly to thefreshness and originality of character incidental to a new country. 

"You are in the wrong pew here, Squire, " said he; "you are, upon mysoul. If you think to sketch the English in a way any one will stop tolook 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 straightlines of any thing make? Take a parcel of sodjers, officers and all, andstretch 'em out in a row, and paint 'em, and then engrave 'em, and putit into one of our annuals, and see how folks would larf, and ask, 'Whatboardin'-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 highpolished, the hands slip off; you can't get a grip of it. Now, take LordFirst Chop, who is the most fashionable man in London, dress him inthe last cut coat, best trowsers, French boots, Paris gloves, andgrape-vine-root cane, don't forget his whiskers, or mous-stache, orbreast-pins, or gold chains, or any thing; and what have you got?--atailor'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 herhand, and mount her on a'most a splendiferous white hoss, with long tailand 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, aspatterin' and white-spottin' of her beautiful trailin', skirt like anything. And what have you got?--why a print like the posted hand-bills ofa circus. 

"Now spit on your fingers, and rub Lord First Chop out of the slate, anddraw an Irish labourer, with his coat off, in his shirt-sleeves, withhis breeches loose and ontied at the knees, his yarn stockings and thickshoes on; a little dudeen in his mouth, as black as ink and as short asnothin'; his hat with devilish little rim and no crown to it, and a hodon his shoulders, filled with bricks, and him lookin' as if he was asingin' 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, quitepictures-quee, as Sister Sall used to say. And because why? _You havegot sunthin' nateral_. 

"Well, take the angylyferous dear a horseback, and rub her out, well, Iwon't say that nother, for I'm fond of the little critturs, dressed ornot 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'tan old woman, with a red cloak, and a striped petticoat, and a poorpinched-up, old, squashed-in bonnet on, bendin' forrard, with a staffin her hand, a leadin' of a donkey that has a pair of yaller willowsaddle-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; andit's a pity too, for it would have kinder happified the old man, to seehis son in the House of Lords, wouldn't it? Squire Copley, you know, wasa Boston man; and a credit to our great nation too. P'raps Europe neverhas dittoed him since. 

"Well, if he was above ground now, alive, and stirrin', why take himand fetch him to an upper crust London party; and sais you, 'Old Tenor, 'sais you, 'paint all them silver plates, and silver dishes, and silvercoverlids, and what nots; and then paint them lords with their _stars_, and them ladies' (Lord if he would paint them with their garters, folkswould buy the pictur, cause that's nateral) 'them ladies with theirjewels, and their sarvants with their liveries, as large as life, andtwice as nateral. '

"Well, he'd paint it, if you paid him for it, that's a fact; for thereis no better bait to fish for us Yankees arter all, than a dollar. Thatold boy never turned up his nose at a dollar, except when he thoughthe 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 Iwill pay you well. I'll come down hansum, and do the thing genteel, youmay depend. Then, ' sais you, 'put in for a back ground that noble, oldNoah-like lookin' wood, that's as dark as comingo. Have you done?' saisyou. 

"'I guess so, ' sais he. 

"'Then put in a brook jist in front of it, runnin' over stones, andfoamin' 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 ofthe brook, ' sais you, 'and clap a pole across atween the forks. Is thatdown?' sais you. 

"'Yes, ' sais he. 

"'Then, ' sais you, 'hang a pot on that horizontal pole, make a clearlittle wood fire onderneath; paint two covered carts near it. Let anold hoss drink at the stream, and two donkeys make a feed off a patch ofthistles. 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'snext? But, mind I've most filled my canvass; it will cost you a prettyconsiderable penny, if you want all them critters in, when I come tocypher all the pictur up, and sumtotalize the whole of it. '

"'Oh! cuss the cost!' sais you. 'Do you jist obey orders, and breakowners, 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 theirdifferent coloured clothes, and different attitudes, and differentoccupations. Here a man mendin' a harness, there a woman pickin' astolen fowl, there a man skinnin' a rabbit, there a woman with herpetticoat up, a puttin' of a patch in it. Here two boys a fishin', andthere 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 thebest now, Squire Copely? speak candid for I want to know, and I ask younow as a countryman. '

"'Well' he'll jist up and tell you, 'Mr. Poker, ' sais he, 'yourfashionable party is the devil, that's a fact. Man made the town, butGod made the country. Your company is as formal, and as stiff, and asoninterestin' 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 Houseof 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 wasgood, 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 skiverdthe speaker with a bowie knife as happened to Arkansaw, if I was topaint it, it would be beautiful. Our free and enlightened people is sodifferent, so characteristic and peculiar, it would give a great fieldto a painter. To sketch the different style of man of each state, sothat any citizen would sing right out; Heavens and airth if that don'tbeat all! Why, as I am a livin' sinner that's the Hoosier of Indiana, orthe Sucker of Illinois, or the Puke of Missouri, or the Bucky ofOhio, or the Red Horse of Kentucky, or the Mudhead of Tennesee, or theWolverine of Michigan or the Eel of New England, or the Corn Cracker ofVirginia! That's the thing that gives inspiration. That's the glass oftalabogus that raises your spirits. There is much of elegance, and moreof comfort in England. It is a great and a good country, Mr. Poker, butthere is no natur in it. '

"It is as true as gospel, " said Mr. Slick, "I'm tellin' you no lie. It'sa fact. If you expect to paint them English, as you have the Blue-Nosesand us, you'll pull your line up without a fish, oftener than you area-thinkin' on; that's the reason all our folks have failed. 'Rush's bookis jist molasses and water, not quite so sweet as 'lasses, and not quiteso good as water; but a spilin' of both. And why? His pictur was ofpolished life, where there is no natur. Washington Irving's book is likea Dutch paintin', it is good, because it is faithful; the mop has theright 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 ofthe present day) and the pewter plates are on the kitchen dresser, andthe other little notions are all there. He has done the most that couldbe 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 isthe sketches? No. Do you reckon it is the interest we create? No. Is itour grand experiments? No. They don't care a brass button for us, or ourcountry, or experiments nother. What is it then? It is because they aresketches of natur. Natur in every grade and every variety of form; fromthe silver plate, and silver fork, to the finger and huntin' knife. Ourartificials Britishers laugh at; they are bad copies, that's a fact; Igive 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'tsketch me as an Attache to our embassy, with the Legation button, on thecoat, and black Jube Japan in livery. Don't do that; but paint me in myold 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 tooartificial; oh, paint me in the back woods, with my huntin' coat on, myleggins, 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 oakopenin' so as to give a good view, paint a squirrel on the tip top ofthe highest branch, of the loftiest tree, place me off at a hundredyards, drawin' a bead on him fine, then show the smoke, and young squiresquirrel comin' tumblin' down head over heels lumpus', to see whetherthe 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 shallsay, there is nothin' worth havin' or knowin', or hearin', or readin', or seein', or tastin', or smellin', or feelin' and above all and morethan all, nothin' worth affectionin' but _Natur_. 

CHAPTER XIV. THE SOCDOLAGER. 

As soon as I found my friend Mr. Hopewell comfortably settled in hislodgings, I went to the office of the Belgian Consul and other personsto obtain the necessary passports for visiting Germany, where I had ason at school. Mr. Slick proceeded at the same time to the residence ofhis Excellency Abednego Layman, who had been sent to this country by theUnited States on a special mission, relative to the Tariff. 

On my return from the city in the afternoon, he told me he had presentedhis credentials to "the Socdolager, " and was most graciously andcordially received; but still, I could not fail to observe that therewas an evident air of disappointment about him. 

"Pray, what is the meaning of the Socdolager?" I asked. "I never heardof the term before. "

"Possible!" said he, "never heerd tell of 'the Socdolager, ' why youdon't say so! The Socdolager is the President of the lakes--he is thewhale 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, doesthe 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 havesee'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 hecan't be speared nother, for the moment he sees aim taken, he ryles thewater and is out of sight in no tune. _He_ can take in whole shoals ofothers hisself, tho' at a mouthful. He's a whapper, that's a fact. Icall our Minister here 'the Socdolager, ' for our _di_plomaters werenever known to be hooked once yet, and actilly beat all natur' forknowin' 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 'aSocdolager, ' or a whale among _di_plomaters. 

"Well, I rigs up this morning, full fig, calls a cab, and proceedsin state to our embassy, gives what Cooper calls a lord's beat of sixthund'rin' raps of the knocker, presents the legation ticket, and wasadmitted to where ambassador was. He is a very pretty man all up hisshirt, and he talks pretty, and smiles pretty, and bows pretty, and hehas got the whitest hand you ever see, it looks as white, as a new breadand milk poultice. It does indeed. 

"'Sam Slick, ' sais he, 'as I'm alive. Well, how do you do, Mr. Slick? Iam '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 nationas my Attache. '

"'Your knowledge of human natur, (added to your'n of soft sawder, ' saisI, ) 'will raise our great nation, I guess, in the scale o' Europeanestimation. '

"He is as sensitive as a skinned eel, is Layman, and he winced at thatpoke at his soft sawder like any thing, and puckered a little aboutthe mouth, but he didn't say nothin', he only bowed. He was a Unitarianpreacher once, was Abednego, but he swapt preachin' for politics, and agood trade he made of it too; that's a fact. 

"'A great change, ' sais I, 'Abednego, since you was a preachin' toConnecticut 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 "pilotfish, " 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 afew cents put into each eend on it, the weight makes it grow twice aslong in a minute. 'Sam, ' said he, 'don't call me that are, except whenwe are alone here, that's a good soul; not that I am proud, for I ama true Republican;' and he put his hand on his heart, bowed and smiledhansum, 'but these people will make a nickname of it, and we shall neverhear the last of it; that's a fact. We must respect ourselves, aforeothers 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 strangethings do turn up sometimes. Do you recollect, when I heard youa-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 itbeautiful. '

"He know'd I didn't like this change, that Mr. Hopewell had kinderinoculated me with other guess views on these matters, so he began tothrow up bankments and to picket in the ground, all round for defencelike. 

"'Hope, ' sais he, 'is the attribute of a Christian, Slick, for he hopesbeyond this world; but I changed on principle. '

"'Well, ' sais I, 'I changed on interest; now if our great nation isbacked by principal and interest here, I guess its credit is kinder wellbuilt. And atween you and me, Abednego, that's more than the soft-hornedBritish will ever see from all our States. Some on 'em are intarmined topay neither debt nor interest, and give nothin' but lip in retarn. '

"'Now, ' sais he, a pretendin' to take no notice of this, ' you know wehave 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, whereall men are equal what's the use of one man tryin' to look big? He musttake to growin' agin I guess to do that. 'You know we have the Voluntarywith 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 aretired, 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 sowith the minister, too; for his preachin' is voluntary also. He canpreach or lot it alone, as he likes. It's voluntary all through. It's abad rule that won't work both ways. '

"'Well, ' says I, 'there is a good deal in that, too. ' I said that justto lead him on. 

"'A good deal!' sais he, 'why it's every thing. But I didn't rest onthat alone; I propounded this maxim to myself. Every man, sais I, isbound 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 fellowcitizens best by bein' minister to Peach settlement, 'tendin' on alittle village of two thousand souls, and preachin' my throat sore, orbein' special minister to Saint Jimses, and sarvin' our great Republicand its thirteen millions? Why, no reasonable man can doubt; so I giveup preachin'. '

"'Well, ' sais I, 'Abednego, you are a Socdolager, that's a fact; you area great man, and a great scholard. Now a great scholard, when he can'tdo a sum the way it's stated, jist states it so--he _can_ do it. Now theright way to state that sum is arter this fashion: "Which is best, toendeavour to save the souls of two thousand people under my spiritualcharge, or let them go to Old Nick and save a piece of wild land inMaine, get pay for an old steamer burnt to Canada, and uphold the slavetrade for the interest of the States. '

"'That's specious, but not true, ' said he; 'but it's a matter rather formy consideration than your'n, ' and he looked as a feller does when hebuttons his trowsers' pocket, as much as to say, you have no right to bea puttin' of your pickers and stealers in there, that's mine. 'We willdo 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 thehigh 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 hiscoat-tails, for ever so long, without a sayin' of a word. At last, saishe, with a beautiful smile that was jist skin deep, for it played on hisface 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 tohimself; and then says he, 'I'll tell you; that word Socdolager, and thetrade of preachin', and clockmakin', it would be 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. Itdon'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 oureverlastin' Union is entitled to?'

"'Because, ' sais he, 'some day when I am asked out to dinner, somewag or another of a lord will call me parson, and ask me to crave ablessin', 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 upfirst and give it to him atween the two eyes; and when that's done, saisyou, 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 greatnation, ' sais I, 'tell me, hante that noble stand we made on the rightof sarch, raised us about the toploftiest?'

"'Oh, ' says he 'right of sarch! right of sarch! I've been tryin' tosarch my memory, but can't find it. I don't recollect that sarmont aboutHope pitchin' her tent on the hill. When was it?'

"'It was afore the juvenile-united-democratic-republican association toFunnel 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 ajoke, and nothin' more. But railly now, Abednego, what is the state ofour legation?"

"'I don't see nothin' ridikilous, ' sais he, 'in that are expression, ofHope pitchin' her tent on a hill. It's figurativ' and poetic, but it'swithin the line that divides taste from bombast. Hope pitchin' her tenton a hill! What is there to reprehend in that?'

"Good airth and seas, ' sais I, 'let's pitch Hope, and her tent, and thehill, 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 wasa great preacher all his life, but it didn't spile him as a Socdolagerone bit, but rather helped him, that's a fact. How 'av we held ourfootin' here?'

"'Not well, I am grieved to say, ' sais he; 'not well. The failure of theUnited 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 questionhas 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 Andrethat time, gained more than a battle. Jackson by hanging Arbuthnot andAnbristher, gained his election. M'Kennie for havin' hanged them threecitizens will be made an admiral of yet, see if he don't. Now if CaptainTyler had said, in his message to Congress, 'Any State that repudiatesits foreign debts, we will first fine it in the whole amount, and thencut it off from our great, free, enlightened, moral and intellectualrepublic, he would have gained by the dash his next election, and run upour 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 alwaysesteemed all through the piece. A dash, as a stroke of policy, ' said he, 'has sometimes a good effect. General Jackson threatening France with awar, 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 herand England together single-handed, was the best move on the politicalchess-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 farbetter policy, and one, too, that some of our States and legislators, and presidents, and Socdolagers, as you call 'em, in my mind have got tolarn 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 doeshonour 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 ropedancer. 'Give me your hand, Abednego, ' sais I; 'you are a man, everyinch of you, ' and I squeezed it so hard, it made his eyes water. 'Ialways knowed you had an excellent head-piece, ' sais I, 'and now Isee 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 kinderproud 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 ascorrect as a bootjack. For nations or individuals, it's all the same, honesty _is_ the best policy, and no mistake. That, ' sais I, 'is thehill, Abednego, for Hope to pitch her tent on, and no mistake, ' and Iput my finger to my nose, and winked. 

"'Well, ' sais he, 'it is; but you are a droll feller, Slick, there isno standin' your jokes. I'll give you leave to larf if you like, but youmust give me leave to win if I can. Good bye. But mind, Sam, ourdignity is at stake. Let's have no more of Socdolagers, or Preachin', orClockmakin', or Hope pitchin' her tent. A word to the wise. Good bye. '

"Yes, " said Mr. Slick, "I rather like Abednego's talk myself. I kinderthink 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 isan agricultural dinner, where he has to make a conciliation speech; anda scientific association, where there is a piece of delicate brag anda 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 townfor a good spell, and until then, I can't go to Court, for he is tointroduce me himself. Pity that, but then it'll give me lots o' time tostudy human natur, that is, if there is any of it left here, for I havesome doubts about that. Yes, he is an able lead horse, is Abednego; heis a'most a grand preacher, a good poet, a first chop orator, agreat 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 originallydesigned; and, during my absence, Mr. Slick had been constantly incompany, either "dining out" daily, when in town, or visiting from onehouse to another in the country. 

I found him in great spirits. He assured me he had many capital storiesto 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 theYankees. 

"They are considerable large print are the Bull family, " said he; "youcan read them by moonlight. Indeed, their faces ain't onlike the moonin a gineral way; only one has got a man in it, and the other hain'talways. 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 thetime 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 varietywhere there it no natur_. You have class variety here, but noindividiality. They are insipid, and call it perlite. The men dressalike, 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, andso 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 monstrousstupid. One dinner like one rainy day (it's rained ever since Ibeen here a'most), is like another; one drawin'-room like anotherdrawin'-room; one peer's entertainment, in a general way, islike 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, samedon't-know-what-to-do-with-your-self-kinder-o'-lookin'-master. Greatfolks are like great folks, marchants like marchants, and so on. It's apictur, it looks like life, but' it tante. The animal is tamed here; heis 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. Maneflowin' 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 spicand 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 hismaster: 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, thatone 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 roomdusted, or the breakfast can't be got, or sunthin' or another. And ifyou did, what's the use? There is no one to talk to, and books onlyweaken your understandin', as water does brandy. They make you letothers guess for you, instead of guessin' for yourself. Sarvants spileyour habits here, and books spite your mind. I wouldn't swap ideas withany man. I make my own opinions, as I used to do my own clocks; and Ifind 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 hirepeople to think for 'em. Never read a book, Squire, always think foryourself. 

"Well, arter breakfast, it's on hat and coat, ombrella in hand, (don'tnever forget that, for the rumatiz, like the perlice, is always on thelook out here, to grab hold of a feller, ) and go somewhere wherethere is somebody, or another, and smoke, and then wash it down with asherry-cobbler; (the drinks ain't good here; they hante no variety inthem 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 chanceof doin' any thin' in cotton or tobacco, whose broke to home, and soon. Then go to the park, and see what's a goin' on there; whether thosepretty critturs, the rads are a holdin' a prime minister 'parsonallyresponsible, ' by shootin' at him; or whether there is a levee, or theQueen is ridin' out, or what not; take a look at the world, make a visitor two to kill time, when all at once it's dark. Home then, smoke acigar, dress for dinner, and arrive at a quarter past seven. 

"Folks are up to the notch here when dinner is in question, that's afact, 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 arterthe other, as fast as the sarvants can carry up their names. Cussthem sarvants! it takes seven or eight of 'em to carry a man's name upstairs, they are so awful lazy, and so shockin' full of porter. If afeller was so lame he had to be carried up himself, I don't believe onmy soul, the whole gang of them, from the Butler that dresses in thesame clothes as his master, to Boots that ain't dressed at all, couldmake 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 ascrape, and the same to old uncle, and then fall back. This is doneas solemn, as if a feller's name was called out to take his place in afuneral; that and the mistakes is the fun of it. There is a sarvant ata house I visit at, that I suspicion is a bit of a bam, and the crittershows both his wit and sense. He never does it to a 'somebody, ' 'causethat 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 alarfin', no more than Mr. Nobody can feelin' like a fool. He's a drollboy, that; I should like to know him. 

"Well, arter 'nouncin' is done, then comes two questions--do I knowanybody 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 likelyyou 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 allcome, and now they have to be marshalled two and two, lock and lock, andgo into the dinin'-room to feed. 

"When I first came I was nation proud of that title, 'the Attache;' nowI am happified it's nothin' but 'only an Attache, ' and I'll tell youwhy. 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 togethertoo, and sit together, and I've observed these nobodies are thepleasantest 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 visitsomebody, but nobody can go anywhere, and therefore nobody sees andknows twice as much as somebody does. Somebodies must be axed, if theyare as stupid as a pump; but nobodies needn't, and never are, unlessthey are spicy sort o' folks, so you are sure of them, and they have allthe 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 into dinner; and what the plague is her jewels and laces, and silks andsattins, and wigs to me? As it is, I have a chance to have a gall totake in that's a jewel herself--one that don't want no settin' off, andcarries her diamonds in her eyes, and so on. I've told our minister notto introduce me as an Attache no more, but as Mr. Nobody, from the Stateof Nothin', in America, _that's natur agin_. 

"But to get back to the dinner. Arter you are in marchin' order, youmove in through two rows of sarvants in uniform. I used to think theywas 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 feltkinder skeery, and as nobody was allocated to me to take in, I goes inalone, not knowin' where I was to settle down as a squatter, and kinderlagged behind; when the butler comes and rams a napkin in my hand, andgives 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 hedid that. 'You've mistaken the child, ' sais I mildly, and I held outthe napkin, and jist as he went to take it, I gave him a sly poke in thebread 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 fustempty 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 anAttache when he sees him next time. 

"Well, there is dinner. One sarvice of plate is like another sarviceof plate, any one dozen of sarvants are like another dozen of sarvants, hock is hock, and champaigne is champaigne--and one dinner is likeanother dinner. The only difference is in the thing itself that'scooked. Veal, to be good, must look like any thing else but veal; youmustn'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 spoonto; any thin' that looks light, cut with a knife; if a thing looks likefish, 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 benateral, natur is out of fashion here. This is a manufacturin' country, everything is done by machinery, and that that ain't must be made tolook like it; and I must say, the dinner machinery is parfect. 

"Sarvants keep goin' round and round in a ring, slow, but sartain, andfor ever, like the arms of a great big windmill, shovin' dish afterdish, in dum show, afore your nose, for you to see how you like theflavour; when your glass is empty it's filled; when your eyes is offyour plate, it's off too, afore you can say Nick Biddle. 

"Folks speak low here; steam is valuable, and noise onpolite. They callit a "_subdued tone_. " Poor tame things, they are subdued, that's afact; slaves to an arbitrary tyrannical fashion that don't leave 'em nofree will at all. You don't often speak across a table any more nor youdo across a street, but p'raps Mr. Somebody of West Eend of town, willsay 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 andgreat trees in America. You speak good English. ' And then he will seemsurprised, 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 looksat 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 goslinscome to their feet, and they all toddle off to the drawin' roomtogether. 

"The decanters now take the "grand tour" of the table, and, like mosttravellers, go out with full pockets, and return with empty ones. Talkhas a pair of stays here, and is laced up tight and stiff. Larnin' ispedantic; politics is onsafe; religion ain't fashionable. You must treadon neutral ground. Well, neutral ground gets so trampled down by bothsides, and so plundered by all, there ain't any thing fresh or goodgrows on it, and it has no cover for game nother. 

"Housundever, the ground is tried, it's well beat, but nothin' is putup, and you get back to where you started. Uncle Gander looks at nextoldest gander hard, bobs his head, and lifts one leg, all ready for ago, and says, 'Will you take any more wine?' 'No, sais he, 'but I takethe hint, let's jine the ladies. '

"Well, when the whole flock is gathered in the goose pastur, thedrawin'-room, other little flocks come troopin' in, and stand, or walk, or down on chairs; and them that know each other talk, and them thatdon't twirl their thumbs over their fingers; and when they are tired ofthat, twirl their fingers over their thumbs. I'm nobody, and so I goesand sets side-ways on an ottarman, like a gall on a side-saddle, andlook 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 womenkind here, when they are taken proper care of. The English may stump theunivarse a'most for trainin' hosses and galls. They give 'em both plentyof walkin' exercise, feed 'em regular, shoe 'em well, trim 'em neat, andkeep a beautiful skin on 'em. They keep, 'em in good health, and don'thouse 'em too much. They are clippers, that's a fact. There is fewthings in natur, equal to a hoss and a gall, that's well trained and ingood condition. I could stand all day and look at 'em, and I call myselfa 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 tobe seen; they grow out of shape, and look coarse. 

"They are considerable knowin' in this kind o' ware too, are theEnglish; they vamp 'em up so well, it's hard to tell their age, and Iain't sure they don't make 'em live longer, than where the art ain'tso well pract_ised_. The mark o' mouth is kept up in a hoss here by thefile, 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 forseveral years younger; and helps her looks, mends her voice, and makesher as smart as a three year old. 

"What's that? It's music. Well, that's artificial too, it's scientificthey say, it's done by rule. Jist look at that gall to the piany: firstcomes a little Garman thunder. Good airth and seas, what a crash! itseems as if she'd bang the instrument all to a thousand pieces. I guessshe'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 hermouth open, like a barn door, and turns up the white of her eyes, likea duck in thunder. She is in a musical ecstasy is that gall, she feelsgood 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, andwhen I'm an angel, I will fall in love with her; but as I'm a man, atleast what's left of me, I'd jist as soon fall in love with one thatwas a leetle, jist a leetle more of a woman, and a leetle, jist a leetleless of an angel. But hullo! what onder the sun is she about, why hervoice is goin' down her own throat, to gain strength, and here it comesout agin as deep toned as a man's; while that dandy feller along sideof her, is singin' what they call falsetter. They've actilly changedvoices. The gall sings like a man, and that screamer like a woman. Thisis 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 listenwithout 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 onthe 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 mostnaked. Well, a splendiferous company gall, here, when she is _fulldressed_ is only _half covered_, and neither of 'em attract you one miteor 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 identicalthe same. Well, the singin' is amazin' like, too. Who ever heerd themItalian singers recitin' their jabber, showin' their teeth, and cuttin'didoes at a great private consart, that wouldn't take his oath he hadheerd niggers at a dignity ball, down South, sing jist the same, andjist as well. And then do, for goodness' gracious' sake, hear that greatabsent 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 allmeans, ' as much as to say, 'me and the powers above are ready to hearyou; but don't be long about it. '

"Ain't that for all the world like a camp-meetin', when a reformedring-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, 'Meand the boys, throw us a hen-coop; the galls will drift down stream on abale 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; andas I want a cigar most amazin'ly, let's go to a divan, and some othertime, I'll tell you what a swoi_ree_ is. But answer me this herequestion now, Squire: when this same thing is acted over and over, dayafter day, and no variation, from July to etarnity, don't you thinkyou'd get a leetle--jist a leetle more tired of it every day, and wishfor natur once more. If you wouldn't I would, that's all. "

THE SECOND VOLUME. 

CHAPTER I. THE NOSE OF A SPY

"Squire. " said Mr. Hopewell, "you know Sam well enough, I hope, to makeall due allowances for the exuberance of his fancy. The sketch he hasjust given you of London society, like the novels of the presentday, though founded on fact, is very unlike the reality. There may beassemblages of persons in this great city, and no doubt there are, quiteas insipid and absurd as the one he has just pourtrayed; but you mustnot suppose it is at all a fair specimen of the society of this place. My own experience is quite the reverse. I think it the most refined, the most agreeable, and the most instructive in the world. Whateveryour favourite study or pursuit may be, here you are sure to findwell-informed and enthusiastic associates. If you have merit, it isappreciated; and for an aristocratic country, that merit places you ona level with your superiors in rank in a manner that is quiteincomprehensible to a republican. Money is the great leveller ofdistinctions with us; here, it is talent. Fashion spreads many tableshere, but talent is always found seated at the best, if it thinks properto comply with certain usages, without which, even genius ceases to beattractive. 

"On some future occasion, I will enter more at large on this subject;but now it is too late; I have already exceeded my usual hour forretiring. 'Excuse me, Sam, ' said he. 'I know you will not be offendedwith me, but Squire there are some subjects on which Sam may amuse, butcannot instruct you, and one is, fashionable life in London. You mustjudge for yourself, Sir. Good night, my children. '"

Mr. Slick rose, and opened the door for him, and as he passed, bowed andheld out his hand. "Remember me, your honour, no man opens the door inthis country without being paid for it. Remember me, Sir. "

"True, Sam, " said the Minister, "and it is unlucky that it does notextend to opening the mouth, if it did, you would soon make yourfortune, for you can't keep yours shut. Good night. "

The society to which I have subsequently had the good fortune to beadmitted, fully justifies the eulogium of Mr. Hopewell. Though manypersons can write well, few can talk well; but the number of those whoexcel in conversation is much greater in certain circles in London, thanin any other place. By talking well, I do not mean talking wisely orlearnedly; but agreeably, for relaxation and pleasure, are the principalobjects of social assemblies. This can only be illustrated by instancingsome very remarkable persons, who are the pride and pleasure of everytable they honour and delight with their presence But this may not be. For obvious reasons, I could not do it if I would; and most assuredly, I would not do it if I could. No more certain mode could be devisedof destroying conversation, than by showing, that when the citadel isunguarded, the approach of a friend is as unsafe as that of an enemy. 

Alas! poor Hook! who can read the unkind notice of thee in a lateperiodical, and not feel, that on some occasions you must have admittedto your confidence men who were as unworthy of that distinction as, theywere incapable of appreciating it, and that they who will disregard theprivileges of a table, will not hesitate to violate even the sanctityof the tomb. Cant may talk of your "_inter pocula_" errors with pioushorror; and pretension, now that its indulgence is safe, may affect todisclaim your acquaintance; but kinder, and better, and truer men thanthose who furnished your biographer with his facts will not fail torecollect your talents with pride, and your wit and your humour withwonder and delight. 

We do not require such flagrant examples as these to teach us our duty, but they are not without their use in increasing our caution. 

When Mr. Hopewell withdrew, Mr. Slick observed:

"Ain't that ere old man a trump? He is always in the right place. Whenever you want to find him, jist go and look for him where heought to be, and there you will find him as sure as there is snakes inVarginy. He is a brick, that's a fact. Still, for all that, he ain'tjist altogether a citizen of this world nother. He fishes in deep water, with a sinker to his hook. He can't throw a fly as I can, reel out hisline, run down stream, and then wind up, wind up, wind up, and let out, and wind up again, till he lands his fish, as I do. He looks deep intothings, is a better religionist, polititioner, and bookster than I be:but then that's all he does know. If you want to find your way about, orread a man, come to me, that's all; for I'm the boy that jist can doit. If I can't walk into a man, I can dodge round him; and if he is toonimble for that, I can jump over him; and if he is too tall for that, although I don't like the play, yet I can whip him. 

"Now, Squire, I have been a good deal to England, and crossed this bigpond here the matter of seven times, and know a good deal about it, morethan a great many folks that have writtin' books on it, p'raps. Mindwhat I tell you, the English ain't what they was. I'm not speakin' injeest now, or in prejudice. I hante a grain of prejudice in me. I'vesee'd too much of the world for that I reckon. I call myself a candidman, and I tell you the English are no more like what the English usedto be, when pigs were swine, and Turkey chewed tobacky, than they arelike the Picts or Scots, or Norman, French, or Saxons, or nothin'. "

"Not what they used to be?" I said. "Pray, what do you mean?"

"I mean, " said he, "jist what I say. They ain't the same people nomore. They are as proud, and overbearin', and concaited, and haughtyto foreigners as ever; but, then they ain't so manly, open-hearted, andnoble as they used to be, once upon a time. They have the Spy Systemnow, in full operation here; so jist take my advice, and mind yourpotatoe-trap, or you will be in trouble afore you are ten days older, see if you ain't. "

"The Spy System!" I replied. "Good Heavens, Mr. Slick, how can you talksuch nonsense, and yet have the modesty to say you have no prejudice?"

"Yes, the Spy System, " said he, "and I'll prove it. You know Dr. Mc'Dougall to Nova Scotia; well, he knows all about mineralogy, andgeology, and astrology, and every thing a'most, except what he ought toknow, and that is dollar-ology. For he ain't over and above half welloff, that's a fact. Well, a critter of the name of Oatmeal, down toPictou, said to another Scotchman there one day, 'The great nateralistDr. Mc'Dougall is come to town. '

"'Who?' says Sawney. 

"'Dr. Mc'Dougall, the nateralist, ' says Oatmeal. 

"'Hout, mon, ' says Sawney, 'he is nae nateral, that chiel; he kens mairthan maist men; he is nae that fool you take him to be. '

"Now, I am not such a fool as you take _me_ to be, Squire. Whenever Idid a sum to, school, Minister used to say, 'Prove it, Sam, and if itwon't prove, do it over agin, till it will; a sum ain't right when itwon't prove. ' Now, I say the English have the Spy System, and I'll proveit; nay, more than that, they have the nastiest, dirtiest, meanest, sneakenest system in the world. It is ten times as bad as the Frenchplan. In France they have bar-keepers, waiters, chamber galls, guides, quotillions, --"

"Postilions, you mean, " I said. 

"Well, postilions then, for the French have queer names for people, that's a fact; disbanded sodgers, and such trash, for spies. In Englandthey have airls and countesses, Parliament men, and them that callthemselves gentlemen and ladies, for spies. "

"How very absurd!" I said. 

"Oh yes, very absurd, " said Mr. Slick; "whenever I say anythin' aginEngland, it's very absurd, it's all prejudice. Nothin' is strange, though, when it is said of us, and the absurder it is, the truer it is. I can bam as well as any man when bam is the word, but when fact is theplay, I am right up and down, and true as a trivet. I won't deceive you;I'll prove it. 

"There was a Kurnel Dun--dun--plague take his name, I can't recollectit, but it makes no odds--I know _he_ is Dun for, though, that's a fact. Well, he was a British kurnel, that was out to Halifax when I was there. I know'd him by sight, I didn't know him by talk, for I didn't fill thenthe dignified situation I now do, of Attache. I was only a clockmakerthen, and I suppose he wouldn't have dirtied the tip eend of his whiteglove with me then, any more than I would sile mine with him now, andvery expensive and troublesome things them white gloves be too; there isno keepin' of them clean. For my part, I don't see why a man can't makehis own skin as clean as a kid's, any time; and if a feller can't be letshake hands with a gall except he has a glove on, why ain't he made tocover his lips, and kiss thro' kid skin too. 

"But to get back to the kurnel, and it's a pity he hadn't had a gloveover his mouth, that's a fact. Well, he went home to England with hisregiment, and one night when he was dinin' among some first chop men, nobles and so on, they sot up considerable late over their claret; andpoor thin cold stuff it is too, is claret. A man _may_ get drowned init, but how the plague he can get drunk with it is dark to me. It's likeevery thing else French, it has no substance in it; it's nothin' but redink, that's a fact. Well, how it was I don't know, but so it eventuated, that about daylight he was mops and brooms, and began to talk somethin'or another he hadn't ought to; somethin' he didn't know himself, andsomethin' he didn't mean, and didn't remember. 

"Faith, next mornin' he was booked; and the first thing he see'd when hewaked was another man a tryin' on of his shoes, to see how they'd fit tomarch to the head of his regiment with. Fact, I assure you, and a facttoo that shows what Englishmen has come to; I despise 'em, I hate 'em, Iscorn such critters as I do oncarcumcised niggers. "

"What a strange perversion of facts, " I replied. 

But he would admit of no explanation. "Oh yes, quite parvarted; not aword of truth in it; there never is when England is consarned. There isno beam in an Englishman's eye; no not a smell of one; he has pulled itout long ago; that's the reason he can see the mote in other folks'sso plain. Oh, of course it ain't true; it's a Yankee invention; it's ahickory ham and a wooden nutmeg. 

"Well, then, there was another feller got bagged t'other day, asinnocent as could be, for givin' his opinion when folks was a talkin'about matters and things in gineral, and this here one in partikilar. Ican't tell the words, for I don't know 'em, nor care about 'em; and if Idid, I couldn't carry 'em about so long; but it was for sayin' ithadn't ought to have been taken notice of, considerin' it jist popt outpermiscuous like with the bottle-cork. If he hadn't a had the cleargrit in him, and showed teeth and claws, they'd a nullified him so, youwouldn't have see'd a grease spot of him no more. What do you call that, now? Do you call that liberty? Do you call that old English? Do you callit pretty, say now? Thank God, it tante Yankee. "

"I see you have no prejudice, Mr. Slick, " I replied. 

"Not one mite or morsel, " he replied. "Tho' I was born in Connecticut, Ihave travelled all over the thirteen united univarsal worlds of ourn andam a citizen at large. No, I have no prejudice. You say I am mistaken;p'raps I am, I hope I be, and a stranger may get hold of the wrong eendof a thing sometimes, that's a fact. But I don't think I be wrong, orelse the papers don't tell the truth; and I read it in all the jarnals;I did, upon my soul. Why man, it's history now, if such nasty mean doinsis worth puttin' into a book. 

"What makes this Spy System to England wuss, is that theseeaves-droppers are obliged to hear all that's said, or lose whatcommission they hold; at least so folks tell me. I recollect when I wasthere last, for it's some years since Government first sot up the SpySystem; there was a great feed given to a Mr. Robe, or Robie, or somesuch name, an out and out Tory. Well, sunthin' or another was said overtheir cups, that might as well have been let alone, I do suppose, tho'dear me, what is the use of wine but to onloosen the tongue, and whatis the use of the tongue, but to talk. Oh, cuss 'em, I have no patiencewith them. Well, there was an officer of a marchin' regiment there, whoit seems ought to have took down the words and sent 'em up to the headGineral, but he was a knowin' coon, was officer, and _didn't hear it_. No sooner said than done; some one else did the dirty work for him; butyou can't have a substitute for this, you must sarve in person, so theold Gineral hawls him right up for it. 

"'Why the plague, didn't you make a fuss?' sais the General, 'why didn'tyou get right up, and break up the party?'

"'I didn't hear it, ' sais he. 

"'You didn't hear it!' sais Old Sword-belt, 'then you had ought to haveheerd it; and for two pins, I'd sharpen your hearin' for you, so that asnore of a fly would wake you up, as if a byler had bust. '

"Oh, how it has lowered the English in the eyes of foreigners! Howsneakin' it makes 'em look! They seem for all the world like scareddogs; and a dog when he slopes off with his head down, his tail atweenhis legs, and his back so mean it won't bristle, is a caution tosinners. Lord. I wish I was Queen!"

"What, of such a degraded race as you say the English are, of such amean-spirited, sneaking nation?"

"Well, they warn't always so, " he replied. "I will say that, for Ihave no prejudice. By natur, there is sunthin' noble and manly in aBritisher, and always was, till this cussed Spy System got into fashion. They tell me it was the Liberals first brought it into vogue. How thatis. I don't know; but I shouldn't wonder if it was them, for I knowthis, if a feller talks _very_ liberal in politics, put him into office, and see what a tyrant he'll make. If he talks very liberal in religion, it's because he hante got none at all. If he talks very liberal to thepoor, talk is all the poor will ever get out of him. If he talks liberalabout corn law, it tante to feed the hungry, but to lower wages, andso on in every thing a most. None is so liberal as those as hante gotnothin'. The most liberal feller I know on is "Old Scratch himself. " Ifever the liberals come in, they should make him Prime Minister. He isvery liberal in religion and would jine them in excludin' the Bible fromcommon schools I know. He is very liberal about the criminal code, forhe can't bear to see criminals punished. He is very liberal in politics, for he don't approbate restraint, and likes to let every critter 'goto the devil' his own way. Oh, he should be Head Spy and Prime Ministerthat feller. 

"But without jokin' tho', if I was Queen, the fust time any o' myministers came to me to report what the spies had said, I'd jist up andsay, 'Minister, ' I'd say, 'it is a cussed oninglish, onmanly, niggerlybusiness, is this of pumpin', and spyin', and tattlin'. I don't like ita bit. I'll have neither art nor part in it; I wash my hands clear ofit. It will jist break the spirit of my people. So, minister look here. The next report that is brought to me of a spy, I'll whip his tongue outand whop your ear off, or my name ain't Queen. So jist mind what I say;first spy pokes his nose into your office, chop it off and clap it upover Temple Bar, where they puts the heads of traitors and write thesewords over, with your own fist, that they may know the handwritin', andnot mistake the meanin', _This is the nose of a Spy_. "

CHAPTER II. THE PATRON; OR, THE COW'S TAIL. 

Nothing is so fatiguing as sight-seeing. The number and variety ofobjects to which your attention is called, and the rapid succession inwhich they pass in review, at once wearies and perplexes the mind; andunless you take notes to refresh your memory, you are apt to find youcarry away with you but an imperfect and indistinct recollection. 

Yesterday was devoted to an inspection of the Tunnel and anexamination of the Tower, two things that ought always to be viewedin juxta-position; one being the greatest evidence of the science andwealth of modern times; and the other of the power and pomp of ourforefathers. 

It is a long time before a stranger can fully appreciate the extentof population and wealth of this vast metropolis. At first, he isastonished and confused; his vision is indistinct. By degrees he beginsto understand its localities, the ground plan becomes intelligible andhe can take it all in at a view. The map is a large one; it is a chartof the world. He knows the capes and the bays; he has sailed round them, and knows their relative distance, and at last becomes aware of themagnitude of the whole. Object after object becomes more familiar. Hecan estimate the population; he compares the amount of it with thatof countries that he is acquainted with, and finds that this one towncontains within it nearly as great a number of souls as all BritishNorth America. He estimates the incomes of the inhabitants, and findsfigures almost inadequate to express the amount. He asks for thesources from whence it is derived. He resorts to his maxims of politicaleconomy, and they cannot inform him. He calculates the number of acresof land in England, adds up the rental, and is again at fault. Heinquires into the statistics of the Exchange, and discovers that eventhat is inadequate; and, as a last resource, concludes that the wholeworld is tributary to this Queen of Cities. It is the heart of theUniverse. All the circulation centres here, and hence are derived allthose streams that give life and strength to the extremities. How vast, how populous, how rich, how well regulated, how well supplied, howclean, how well ventilated, how healthy!--what a splendid city! Howworthy of such an empire and such a people!

What is the result of his experience? _It is, that there is no suchcountry in the world as England, and no such place in England as London;that London is better than any other town in winter, and quite as goodas any other place in summer; that containing not only all that herequires, but all that he can wish, in the greatest perfection, hedesires never to leave it. _

Local description, however, is not my object; I shall therefore, returnto my narrative. 

Our examination of the Tower and the Tunnel occupied the whole day, andthough much gratified, we were no less fatigued. On returning to ourlodgings, I found letters from Nova Scotia. Among others, was onefrom the widow of an old friend, enclosing a memorial to theCommander-in-Chief, setting forth the important and gratuitous servicesof her late husband to the local government of the province, andsoliciting for her son some small situation in the ordnance department, which had just fallen vacant at Halifax. I knew that it was not onlyout of my power to aid her, but that it was impossible for her, howeverstrong the claims of her husband might be, to obtain her request. Thesethings are required for friends and dependants in England; and in therace of competition, what chance of success has a colonist?

I made up my mind at once to forward her memorial as requested, butpondered on the propriety of adding to it a recommendation. It could dono good. At most, it would only be the certificate of an unknown man; ofone who had neither of the two great qualifications, namely, county orparliamentary interest, but it might do harm. It might, by engenderingridicule from the insolence of office, weaken a claim, otherwise wellfounded. "Who the devil is this Mr. Thomas Poker, that recommends theprayer of the petition? The fellow imagines all the world must haveheard of him. A droll fellow that, I take it from his name: but allcolonists are queer fellows, eh?"

"Bad news from home?" said Mr. Slick, who had noticed my abstraction. "No screw loose there, I hope. You don't look as if you liked theflavour of that ere nut you are crackin' of. Whose dead? and what is topay now?"

I read the letter and the memorial, and then explained from my ownknowledge how numerous and how valuable were the services of mydeceased friend, and expressed my regret at not being able to serve thememorialist. 

"Poor woman!" said Mr. Hopewell, "I pity her. A colonist has no chancefor these things; they have no patron. In this country merit will alwaysobtain a patron--in the provinces never. The English are a noble-minded, generous people, and whoever here deserves encouragement or reward, is certain to obtain either or both: but it must be a brilliant man, indeed, whose light can be perceived across the Atlantic. "

"I entertain, Sir, " I said, "a very strong prejudice against relyingon patrons. Dr. Johnson, after a long and fruitless attendance on LordChesterfield, says: 'Seven years, my Lord, have now past, since I waitedin your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which timeI have been pushing on my work, through difficulties, of which itis useless to complain, and have brought it at last to the verge ofpublication, without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favour. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never bada patron before. "

"Ah!" said Mr. Hopewell, "a man who feels that he is wrong, is alwaysangry with somebody else. Dr. Johnson, is not so much to be admiredfor the independence that dictated that letter, as condemned for themeanness and servility of seven years of voluntary degradation. It is nowonder he spoke with bitterness; for, while he censured his Lordship, he must have despised himself. There is a great difference between aliterary and a political patron. The former is not needed, and a mandoes better without one; the latter is essential. A good book, likegood wine, needs no bush; but to get an office, you want merits orpatrons;--merits so great, that they cannot be passed over, or friendsso powerful, they cannot be refused. "

"Oh! you can't do nothin', Squire, " said Mr. Sick, "send it back to OldMarm; tell her you have the misfortin to be a colonist; that if her sonwould like to be a constable, or a Hogreave, or a thistle-viewer, orsunthin' or another of that kind, you are her man: but she has got thewrong cow by the tail this time. I never hear of a patron, I don't thinkof a frolic I once had with a cow's tail; and, by hanging on to it likea snappin' turtle, I jist saved my life, that's a fact. 

"Tell you what it is, Squire, take a fool's advice, for once. Here youare; I have made you considerable well-known, that's a fact; and willintroduce you to court, to king and queen, or any body you please. Forour legation, though they can't dance, p'raps, as well as the French onecan, could set all Europe a dancin' in wide awake airnest, if it chose. They darsent refuse us nothin', or we would fust embargo, and then goto war. Any one you want to know, I'll give you the ticket. Look round, select a good critter, and hold on to the tail, for dear life, and seeif you hante a patron, worth havin'. You don't want none yourself, butyou might want one some time or another, for them that's a comin' arteryou. 

"When I was a half grow'd lad, the bears came down from Nor-West oneyear in droves, as a body might say, and our woods near Slickville wasjist full of 'em. It warn't safe to go a-wanderin' about there a-doin'of nothin', I tell _you_. Well, one arternoon, father sends me into theback pastur', to bring home the cows, 'And, ' says he, 'keep a stirrin', Sam, go ahead right away, and be out of the bushes afore sun-set, onaccount of the bears, for that's about the varmints' supper-time. '

"Well, I looks to the sky, and I sees it was a considerable of a pieceyet to daylight down, so I begins to pick strawberries as I goes along, and you never see any thing so thick as they were, and whereverthe grass was long, they'd stand up like a little bush, and hang inclusters, most as big and twice as good, to my likin', as garden ones. Well, the sun, it appears to me, is like a hoss, when it comes near darkit mends its pace, and gets on like smoke, so afore I know'd where Iwas, twilight had come peepin' over the spruce tops. 

"Off I sot, hot foot, into the bushes, arter the cows, and as alwayseventuates when you are in a hurry, they was further back than commonthat time, away ever so fur back to a brook, clean off to the rear ofthe farm, so that day was gone afore I got out of the woods, and I gotproper frightened. Every noise I heerd I thought it was a bear, and whenI looked round a one side, I guessed I heerd one on the other, and Ihardly turned to look there before, I reckoned it was behind me, I wase'en a'most skeered to death. 

"Thinks I, 'I shall never be able to keep up to the cows if a bear comesarter 'em and chases 'em, and if I fall astarn, he'll just snap up aplump little corn fed feller like me in less than half no time. Cryin', 'says I, 'though, will do no good. You must be up and doin', Sam, or it'sgone goose with you. '

"So a thought struck me. Father had always been a-talkin' to me aboutthe leadin' men, and makin' acquaintance with the political big bugswhen I growed up and havin' a patron, and so on. Thinks I, I'll takethe leadin' cow for my patron. So I jist goes and cuts a long tough ashsaplin, and takes the little limbs off of it, and then walks along sideof Mooley, as meachin' as you please, so she mightn't suspect nothin', and then grabs right hold of her tail, and yelled and screamed like mad, and wallopped away at her like any thing. 

"Well, the way she cut dirt was cautionary; she cleared stumps, ditches, windfalls and every thing, and made a straight track of it for home asthe crow flies. Oh, she was a dipper: she fairly flow again, and if evershe flagged, I laid it into her with the ash saplin, and away we startedagin, as if Old Nick himself was arter us. 

"But afore I reached home, the rest of the cows came a bellowin', and aroarin' and a-racin' like mad arter us, and gained on us too, so as mostto overtake us, jist as I come to the bars of the cow yard, over wentMooler, like a fox, brought me whap up agin 'em, which knocked all thewind out of my lungs and the fire out of my eyes, and laid me sprawlinon the ground, and every one of the flock went right slap over me, allbut one--poor Brindle. She never came home agin. Bear nabbed her, andtore her most ridiculous. He eat what he wanted, which was no trifle, Ican tell you, and left the rest till next time. 

"Don't talk to me, Squire, about merits. We all want a lift in thisworld; sunthin' or another to lay hold on, to help us along--_we wantthe cow's tail_. 

"Tell your friend, the female widder, she has got hold of the wrong cowby the tail in gettin' hold of you, for you are nothin' but a despisablecolonist; but to look out for some patron here, some leadin' man, orgreat lord, to clinch fast hold of him, and stick to him like a leach, and if he flags, (for patrons, like old Mooley, get tired sometimes), torecollect the ash saplin, to lay into him well, and keep him at it, andno fear but he'll carry her through. He'll fetch her home safe at last, and no mistake, depend on it, Squire. The best lesson that little boycould be taught, is, that of _the Patron, or the Cows Tail_. "

CHAPTER III. ASCOT RACES. 

To-day I visited Ascot. Race-courses are similar every where, andpresent the same objects; good horses, cruel riders, knowing men, dupes, jockeys, gamblers, and a large assemblage of mixed company. But thisis a gayer scene than most others; and every epithet, appropriate to acourse, diminutive or otherwise, must be in the superlative degree whenapplied to Ascot. This is the general, and often the only impressionthat most men carry away with them. 

Mr. Slick, who regards these things practically, called my attention toanother view of it. 

"Squire, " said he, "I'd a plaguy sight sooner see Ascot than any thingelse to England. There ain't nothin' like it. I don't mean the racin', because they can't go ahead like us, if they was to die for it. We havecolts that can whip chain lightnin', on a pinch. Old Clay trotted withit once all round an orchard, and beat it his whole length, but itsinged his tail properly as he passed it, you may depend. It ain't itsrunnin' I speak of, therefore, though that ain't mean nother; but it'sgot another featur', that you'll know it by from all others. Oh it's aneverlastin' pity you warn't here, when I was to England last time. Queenwas there then; and where she is, of coarse all the world and its wifeis too. She warn't there this year, and it sarves folks right. If I wasan angelyferous queen, like her, I wouldn't go nowhere till I had atory minister, and then a feller that had a "trigger-eye" would standa chance to get a white hemp-neckcloth. I don't wonder Hume don't likeyoung England; for when that boy grows up, he'll teach some folks thatthey had better let some folks alone, or some folks had better take careof some folks' ampersands that's all. 

"The time I speak of, people went in their carriages, and not byrailroad. Now, pr'aps you don't know, in fact you can't know, for youcan't cypher, colonists ain't no good at figurs, but if you did know, the way to judge of a nation is by its private carriages. From Hyde Parkcorner to Ascot Heath, is twenty odd miles. Well, there was one wholeendurin' stream of carriages all the way, sometimes havin' one or twoeddies, and where the toll-gates stood, havin' still water for ever sofar. Well, it flowed and flowed on for hours and hours without stoppin', like a river; and when you got up to the race-ground, there was thematter of two or three tiers of carriages, with the hosses off, packedas close as pins in a paper. 

"It costs near hand to twelve hundred dollars a-year to keep up acarriage here. Now for goodness' sake jist multiply that everlastin'string of carriages by three hundred pounds each, and see what's spentin that way every year, and then multiply that by ten hundred thousandmore that's in other places to England you don't see, and then tell meif rich people here ain't as thick as huckleberries. "

"Well, when you've done, go to France, to Belgium, and to Prussia, threesizeable places for Europe, and rake and scrape every private carriagethey've got, and they ain't no touch to what Ascot can show. Well, whenyou've done your cypherin', come right back to London, as hard as youcan clip from the race-course, and you won't miss any of 'em; the townis as full as ever, to your eyes. A knowin' old coon, bred and born toLondon, might, but you couldn't. 

"Arter that's over, go and pitch the whole bilin' of 'em into theThames, hosses, carriages, people, and all; and next day, if it warn'tfor the black weepers and long faces of them that's lost money by it, and the black crape and happy faces of them that's got money, ortitles, or what not by it, you wouldn't know nothin' about it. Carriageswouldn't rise ten cents in the pound in the market. A stranger, likeyou, if you warn't told, wouldn't know nothin' was the matter abovecommon. There ain't nothin' to England shows its wealth like this. 

"Says father to me when I came back, 'Sam, ' sais he, 'what struck youmost?'

"'Ascot Races, ' sais I. 

"'Jist like you, ' sais he. 'Hosses and galls is all you think of. Wherever they be, there you are, that's a fact. You're a chip of the oldblock, my boy. There ain't nothin' lake 'em; is there?'

"Well, he was half right, was father. It's worth seein' for hosses andgalls too; but it's worth seein' for its carriage wealth alone. Heavensand airth, what a rich country it must be that has such a show in thatline as England. Don't talk of stock, for it may fail; or silver-smiths'shops, for you can't tell what's plated; or jewels, for they may bepaste; or goods, for they may be worth only half nothin'; but talk ofthe carriages, them's the witnesses that don't lie. 

"And what do they say? 'Calcutta keeps me, and China keeps me, andBot'ney Bay keeps me, and Canada keeps me, and Nova Scotia keeps me, andthe whales keep me, and the white bears keep me, and every thing on theairth keeps me, every thing under the airth keeps me. In short, all theworld keeps me. '"

"No, not all the world, Sam, " said Mr. Hopewell; "there are somerepudiative States that _don't keep me_; and if you go to the auctionrooms, you'll see some beautiful carriages for sale, that say, 'theUnited States' Bank used to keep me, ' and some more that say, 'NickBiddle put me down. '"

"Minister, I won't stand that, " said Mr. Slick. "I won't stay here andhear you belittle Uncle Sam that way for nothin'. He ain't wuss thanJohn Bull, arter all. Ain't there no swindle-banks here? Jist tell methat. Don't our liners fetch over, every trip, fellers that cut and runfrom England, with their fobs filled with other men's money? Ain'tthere lords in this country that know how to "repudiate" as well asring-tail-roarers in ourn. So come now, don't throw stones till you putyour window-shutters to, or you may stand a smart chance of gettin' yourown glass broke, that's a fact. '

"And then, Squire, jist look at the carriages. I'll bet you a goose andtrimmin's you can't find their ditto nowhere. They _are_ carriages, andno mistake, that's a fact. Look at the hosses, the harness, the paint, the linin's, the well-dressed, lazy, idle, infarnal hansum servants, (these rascals, I suspicion, are picked out for their looks), look atthe whole thing all through the piece, take it, by and large, stock, lock, and barrel, and it's the dandy, that's a fact. Don't it costmoney, that's all? Sumtotalize it then, and see what it all comes to. It would make your hair stand on eend, I know. If it was all put intofigure, it would reach clean across the river; and if it was all putinto dollars, it would make a solid tire of silver, and hoop the worldround and round, like a wheel. 

"If you want to give a man an idea of England, Squire, tell him ofAscot; and if you want to cram him, get old Multiplication-table Joe H--to cast it up; for he'll make it come to twice as much as it railly is, and that will choke him. Yes, Squire, _stick to Ascot_. "

CHAPTER IV. THE GANDER PULLING. 

A cunning man is generally a suspicious one, and is as often led intoerror himself by his own misconceptions, as protected from imposition byhis habitual caution. 

Mr. Slick, who always acted on a motive, and never on an impulse, andwho concealed his real objects behind ostensible ones, imagined thateverybody else was governed by the same principle of action; and, therefore, frequently deceived himself by attributing designs to othersthat never existed but in his own imagination. 

Whether the following story of the gander pulling was a fancy sketch ofthe Attache, or a narrative of facts, _I_ had no means of ascertaining. Strange interviews and queer conversations he constantly had withofficial as well as private individuals, but as he often gave hisopinions the form of an anecdote, for the purpose of interesting hishearers, it was not always easy to decide whether his stories were factsor fictions. 

If, on the present occasion, it was of the latter description, it ismanifest that he entertained no very high opinion of the constitutionalchanges effected in the government of the colonies by the Whigs, during their long and perilous rule. If of the former kind, it is tobe lamented that he concealed his deliberate convictions under anallegorical piece of humour. His disposition to "humbug" was so great, it was difficult to obtain a plain straightforward reply from him; buthad the Secretary of State put the question to him in direct terms, whathe thought of Lord Durham's "Responsible government, " and thepractical working of it under Lord Sydenham's and Sir Charles Bagot'sadministration, he would have obtained a plain and intelligible answer. If the interview to which he alludes ever did take place, (which I ambound to add, is very doubtful, notwithstanding the minuteness withwhich it is detailed), it is deeply to be regretted that he was notaddressed in that frank manner which could alone elicit his realsentiments; for I know of no man so competent to offer an opinion onthese subjects as himself. 

To govern England successfully, it is necessary to know the temper ofEnglishmen. Obvious as this appears to be, the frequent relinquishmentof government measures, by the dominant party, shows that their ownstatesmen are sometimes deficient in this knowledge. 

Mr. Slick says, that if Sir James Graham had consulted him, _he_ couldhave shown him how to carry the educational clauses of his favouritebill This, perhaps, is rather an instance of Mr. Slick's vanity, than aproof of his sagacity. But if this species of information is not easy ofattainment here, even by natives, how difficult must it be to govern apeople three thousand miles off, who differ most materially in thought, word, and deed, from their official rulers. 

Mr. Slick, when we had not met during the day, generally visited me atnight, about the time I usually returned from a dinner-party, and amusedme by a recital of his adventures. 

"Squire, " said he, "I have had a most curious capur to-day, and one thatwill interest you, I guess. Jist as I was a settin' down to breakfastthis mornin', and was a turnin' of an egg inside out into a wine-glass, to salt, pepper and batter it for Red-lane Alley, I received a note froma Mister Pen, saying the Right Honourable Mr. Tact would be glad, if itwas convenient, if I would call down to his office, to Downin' Street, to-day, at four o'clock. Thinks says I to myself, 'What's to pay now? Isit the Boundary Line, or Creole Case, or Colonial Trade, or the Burnin'of the Caroline, or Right o' Sarch? or what national subject is on thecarpet to-day? Howsundever, ' sais I, 'let the charge be what it will, slugs, rifle-bullets, or powder, go I must, that's a fact. ' So I tipshim a shot right off; here's the draft, Sir; it's in reg'lar statelingo. 

 "Sir, "I have the high honour to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of this present first of June instant and note its contents. The conference (subject unknown), proffered by the Right Honourable Mr. Tact, I accede to hereby protesting and resarving all rights of conformation and reniggin' of our Extraordinary Embassador, now absent from London, at the great agricultural meetin'. I would suggest, next time, it would better convene to business, to insart subject of discussion, to prevent being taken at a short. 

 "I have to assure you of the high consideration of your most obedient servant to command. 

 "THE HON. SAM SLICK, "Attache". 

"Well, when the time comes, I rigs up, puts on the legation coat, callsa cab, and downs to Downing Street, and looks as dignified as I cleverlyknew how. 

"When I enters the outer door, I sees a man in an arm-chair in theentry, and he looked like a buster, I tell you, jist ready to blow upwith the steam of all the secrets he had in his byler. 

"'Can I see Mr. Tact?' sais I. 

"'Tell you directly, ' sais he, jist short like; for Englishmen arekinder costive of words; they don't use more nor will do, at no time;and he rings a bell. This brings in his second in command; and sais he, 'Pray walk in here, if you please, Sir, ' and he led me into a littleplain, stage-coach-house lookin' room, with nothin' but a table and twoor three chairs in it; and says he, 'Who shall I say, Sir?'

"'The Honourable Mr. Slick, ' sais I, 'Attache of the American Legationto the court of Saint Jimses' Victoria. '

"Off he sot; and there I waited and waited for ever so long, but hedidn't come back. Well, I walked to the winder and looked out, but therewas nothin' to see there; and then I turned and looked at a great bigmap on the wall, and there was nothin' I didn't know there; and thenI took out my pen-knife to whittle, but my nails was all whittled offalready, except one, and that was made into a pen, and I didn't like tospile that; and as there wasn't any thing I could get hold of, I jistslivered a great big bit off the leg of the chair, and began to makea toothpick of it. And when I had got that finished, I begins to gettired; for nothin' makes me so peskilly oneasy as to be kept waitin';for if a Clockmaker don't know the valy of time, who the plague does?

"So jist to pass it away, I began to hum 'Jim Brown. ' Did you ever hearit, Squire? it's a'most a beautiful air, as most all them niggersongs are. I'll make you a varse, that will suit a despisable colonistexactly. 

 "I went up to London, the capital of the nation, To see Lord Stanley, and get a sitivation. Says he to me, 'Sam Slick, what can you do?' Says I, 'Lord Stanley, jist as much as you. Liberate the rebels, and 'mancipate the niggers. Hurror for our side, and damn thimble-riggers. 

"Airth and seas! If you was to sing that 'ere song there, how it wouldmake 'em stare; wouldn't it? Such words as them was never heerd in thatpatronage office, I guess; and yet folks must have often thort it too;that's a fact. 

"I was a hummin' the rael 'Jim Brown, ' and got as far as:

 Play upon the banjo, play upon the fiddle, Walk about the town, and abuse old Biddle, when I stopped right in the middle of it, for it kinder sorter struck itme warn't dignified to be a singin' of nigger-catches that way. So saysI to myself, 'This ain't respectful to our great nation to keep a highfunctionary a waitin' arter this fashion, is it? Guess I'd better assartthe honour of our republic by goin' away; and let him see that it warn'tme that was his lackey last year. '

"Well, jist as I had taken the sleeve of my coat and given my hat arub over with it, (a good hat will carry off an old suit of clothes anytime, but a new suit of clothes will never carry off an old hat, so Ilikes to keep my hat in good order in a general way). Well, jist as Ihad done, in walks the porter's first leftenant; and sais he, 'Mr. Tactwill see you, Sir. '

"'He come plaguy near not seein' of me, then, ' sais I; 'for I had jistcommenced makin' tracks as you come in. The next time he sends for me, tell him not to send till he is ready, will you? For it's a rule o' mineto tag arter no man. '

"The critter jist stopped short, and began to see whether that spelttreason or no. He never heerd freedom o' speech afore, that feller, Iguess, unless it was somebody a jawin' of him, up hill and down dale; sosais I, 'Lead off, my old 'coon, and I will foller you, and no mistake, if you blaze the line well. '

"So he led me up stairs, opened a door, and 'nounced me; and there wasMr. Tact, sittin' at a large table, all alone. 

"'How do you do, Mr. Slick, ' says he. 'I am very glad to see you. Praybe seated. ' He really was a very gentlemanlike man, was Squire Tact, that's a fact. Sorry I kept you waitin' so long, ' sais he, 'but theTurkish Ambassador was here at the time, and I was compelled to waituntil he went. I sent for you, Sir, a-hem!' and he rubbed his handacrost his mouth, and looked' up at the cornish, and said, 'I sent foryou, Sir, ahem!'--(thinks I, I see now. All you will say for half anhour is only throw'd up for a brush fence, to lay down behind to takeaim through; and arter that, the first shot is the one that's aimed atthe bird), 'to explain to you about this African Slave Treaty, ' said he. 'Your government don't seem to comprehend me in reference to this Rightof Sarch. Lookin' a man in the face, to see he is the right man, andsarchin' his pockets, are two very different things. You take, don'tyou?'

"'I'm up to snuff, Sir, ' sais I, 'and no mistake. ' I know'd well enoughthat warn't what he sent for me for, by the way he humm'd and hawed whenhe began. 

"'Taking up a trunk, as every hotel-keeper does and has a right todo, and examinin' the name on the brass plate to the eend on't, is onething; forcin' the lock and ransackin' the contents, is another. One isprecaution, the other is burglary. '

"'It tante burglary, ' sais I, 'unless the lodger sleeps in his trunk. It's only--'

"'Well, ' says he, a colourin' up, 'that's technical. I leave thesematters to my law officers. '

"I larnt that little matter of law from brother Eldad, the lawyer, butI guess I was wrong there. I don't think I had ought to have given himthat sly poke; but I didn't like his talkin' that way to me. Whenever afeller tries to pull the wool over your eyes, it's a sign he don't thinkhigh of your onderstandin'. It isn't complimental, that's a fact. 'Oneis a serious offence, I mean, sais he; 'the other is not. We don't wantto sarch; we only want to look a slaver in the face, and see whetherhe is a free and enlightened American or not. If he is, the _flag ofliberty_ protects him and _his slaves_; if he ain't, it don't protecthim, nor them nother. '

"Then he did a leadin' article on slavery, and a paragraph onnon-intervention, and spoke a little soft sawder about America, andwound up by askin' me if he had made himself onderstood. 

"'Plain as a boot-jack, ' sais I. 

"When that was over, he took breath. He sot back on his chair, put oneleg over the other, and took a fresh departur' agin. 

"'I have read your books, Mr. Slick, ' said he, 'and read 'em, too, withgreat pleasure. You have been a great traveller in your day. You've beenround the world a'most, haven't you?'

"'Well, ' sais I, 'I sharn't say I hante. '

"'What a deal of information a man of your observation must haveacquired. ' (He is a gentlemanly man, that you may depend. I don't knowwhen I've see'd one so well mannered. )

"'Not so much, Sir, as you would suppose, ' sais I. 

"'Why how so?' sais he. 

"'Why, ' sais I, 'the first time a man goes round the world, he is plaguyskeered for fear of fallin' off the edge; the second time he gets usedto it, and larns a good deal. '

"'Fallin' off the edge!' sais he; 'what an original idea that is. That'sone of your best. I like your works for that they are original. We havenothin' but imitations now. Fallin' off the the edge, that's capital. Imust tell Peel that; for he is very fond of that sort of thing. '

"He was a very pretty spoken man, was Mr. Tact; he is quite thegentleman, that's a fact. I love to hear him talk; he is so veryperlite, and seems to take a likin' to me parsonally. "

Few men are so open to flattery as Mr. Slick; and although "soft sawder"is one of the artifices he constantly uses in his intercourse withothers, he is often thrown off of his guard by it himself. How mucheasier it is to discover the weaknesses of others than to see our own!

But to resume the story. 

"'You have been a good deal in the colonies, haven't you?' said he. 

"'Considerable sum, ' sais I. Now, sais I to myself, this is the raelobject he sent for me for; but I won't tell him nothin'. If he'd a upand askt me right off the reel, like a man, he'd a found me up to thenotch; but he thort to play me off. Now I'll sarve him out his own way;so here goes. 

"'Your long acquaintance with the provinces, and familiar intercoursewith the people, ' sais he, 'must have made you quite at home on allcolonial topics. '

"'I thought so once, ' sais I; 'but I don't think so now no more, Sir. '

"'Why how is that?' sais he. 

"'Why, Sir, ' sais I, 'you can hold a book so near your eyes as not to beable to read a word of it; hold it off further, and get the right focus, and you can read beautiful. Now the right distance to see a colony, andknow all about it, is England. Three thousand miles is the right focusfor a political spy-glass. A man livin' here, and who never was out ofEngland, knows twice as much about the provinces as I do. '

"'Oh, you are joking, ' sais he. 

"Not a bit, ' sais I. 'I find folks here that not only know every thingabout them countries, but have no doubts upon any matter, and ask noquestions; in fact, they not only know more than me, but more than thepeople themselves do, what they want. It's curious, but it's a fact. Acolonist is the most beautiful crittur in natur to try experiments on, you ever see; for he is so simple and good-natured he don't know nobetter; and so weak, he couldn't help himself if he did. There's greatfun in making these experiments, too. It puts me in mind of "GanderPulling;" you know what this is, don't you?'

"'No, ' he said. 'I never heard of it. Is it an American sport?'

"'Yes, ' sais I, 'it is; and the most excitin' thing, too, you ever see. '

"'You are a very droll man. Mr Slick, ' said he, 'a very droll manindeed. In all your books there is a great deal of fun; but in allyour fun, there is a meanin'. Your jokes hit, and hit pretty hard, too, sometimes. They make a man think as well as laugh. But, describe thisGander Pulling. '

"'Well, I'll tell you how it is, ' sais I. 'First and foremost, aring-road is formed, like a small race-course; then, two great longposts is fixed into the ground, one on each side of the road, and a ropemade fast by the eends to each post, leavin' the middle of the rope tohang loose in a curve. Well, then they take a gander and pick his neckas clean as a babby's, and then grease it most beautiful all the wayfrom the breast to the head, till it becomes as slippery as a soapedeel. Then they tie both his legs together with a strong piece of cord, of the size of a halyard, and hang him by the feet to the middle of theswingin' rope, with his head downward. All the youngsters, all round thecounty, come to see the sport, mounted a horseback. 

"'Well, the owner of the goose goes round with his hat, and gets so mucha-piece in it from every one that enters for the "Pullin';" and when allhave entered, they bring their hosses in a line, one arter another; andat the words, 'Go ahead!' off they set, as hard as they can split; andas they pass under the goose, make a grab at him; and whoever carriesoff the head, wins. 

"'Well, the goose dodges his head and flaps his wings, and swings aboutso, it ain't no easy matter to clutch his neck; and when you do, it's sogreasy, it slips right through the fingers, like, nothin'. Sometimes ittakes so long, that the hosses are fairly beat out, and can't scarcelyraise a gallop; and then a man stands by the post, with a heavy loadedwhip, to lash 'em on, so that they mayn't stand under the goose, whichain't fair. The whoopin', and hollerin', and screamin', and bettin', and excitement, beats all; there ain't hardly no sport equal to it. It'sgreat fun _to all except the poor goosey-gander_. 

"'The game of colony government to Canady, for some years back, puts mein mind of that exactly. Colonist has had his heels put where his headused to be, this some time past. He has had his legs tied, and his neckproperly greased, I tell _you_; and the way every parliament man, andgovernor, and secretary, gallops round and round, one arter another, agrabbin' at poor colonist, ain't no matter. Every new one on 'em thatcomes, is confident he is a goin' to settle it; but it slips through hishand, and off he goes, properly larfed at. 

"'They have pretty nearly fixed goosey colonist, though; he has got hisneck wrung several times; it's twisted all a one side, his tongue hangsout, and he squeaks piteous, that's a fact. Another good grab or twowill put him out o' pain; and it's a pity it wouldn't, for no createdcritter can live long, turned wrong eend up, that way. But the sportwill last long arter that; for arter his neck is broke, it ain't no easymatter to get the head off; the cords that tie that on, are as thickas your finger. It's the greatest fun out there you ever see, _to allexcept poor goosey colonist_. 

"'I've larfed ready to kill myself at it. Some o' these Englishers thatcome out, mounted for the sport, and expect a peerage as a reward forbringin' home the head and settlin' the business for colonist, do cutsuch figurs, it would make you split; and they are all so everlastin'consaited, they won't take no advice. The way they can't do it iscautionary. One gets throwed, another gets all covered with grease, athird loses his hat, a fourth gets run away with by his horse, a fifthsees he can't do it, makes some excuse, and leaves the ground afore thesport is over; and now and then, an unfortunate critter gets a hystethat breaks his own neck. There is only one on 'em that I have see'd outthere, that can do it right. 

"It requires some experience, that's a fact. But let John Bull alone forthat; he is a critter that thinks he knows every thing; and if you toldhim he didn't, he wouldn't believe you, not he. He'd only pity yourignorance, and look dreadful sorry for you. Oh if you want to see highlife, come and see "a colonial gander pulling. "

"'Tying up a goose, Sir, is no great harm, ' sais I, 'seein' that a goosewas made to be killed, picked and devoured, and nothin' else. Tyin' upa colonist by the heels is another thing. I don't think it right; butI don't know nothin'; I've had the book too close to my eyes. Joe H--e, that never was there, can tell you twice as much as I can about thecolonies. The focus to see right, as I said afore, is three thousandmiles off. '

"'Well, ' sais he, 'that's a capital illustration, Mr. Slick. There ismore in that than meets the ear. Don't tell me you don't know nothin'about the colonies; few men know so much as you do. I wish to heavensyou was a colonist, ' sais he; 'if you were, I would offer you agovernment. '

"'I don't doubt it, ' sais I; 'seein' that your department have advancedor rewarded so many colonists already. ' But I don't think he heard thatshot, and I warn't sorry for it; for it's not right to be a pokin' itinto a perlite man, is it?

"'I must tell the Queen that story of _the Gander Pulling_, ' sais he; 'Ilike it amazingly. It's a capital caricature. I'll send the idea to H. B. Pray name some day when you are disengaged; I hope you will give methe pleasure of dining with me. Will this day fortnight suit you?'

"'Thank you, ' sais I, 'I shall have great pleasure. '

"He railly was a gentlemany man that. He was so good natured, and tookthe joke so well, I was kinder sorry I played it off on him. I hantesee'd no man to England I affection so much as Mr. Tact, I swear! Ibegin to think, arter all, it was the right of _sarchin' vessels_ hewanted to talk to me about, instead of _sarchin' me_, as I suspicioned. It don't do always _to look for motives, men often act without any_. Thenext time, if he axes me, I'll talk plain, and jist tell him what I_do_ think; but still, if he reads that riddle right, he may larn a gooddeal, too, from the story of "the Gander Pulling, " mayn't he?"

CHAPTER V. THE BLACK STOLE. 

The foregoing sketch exhibits a personal trait in Mr. Slick's character, the present a national one. In the interview, whether real or fanciful, that he alleges to have had with one of the Secretaries of State, he wasnot disposed to give a direct reply, because his habitual caution ledhim to suspect that an attempt was made to draw him out on a particulartopic without his being made aware of the object. On the presentoccasion, he exhibits that irritability, which is so common among allhis countrymen, at the absurd accounts that travellers give of theUnited States in general, and the gross exaggerations they publish ofthe state of slavery in particular. 

That there is a party in this country, whose morbid sensibility ispandered to on the subject of negro emancipation there can be no doubt, as is proved by the experiment made by Mr. Slick, recorded in thischapter. 

On this subject every man has a right to his own opinions, but anyinterference with the municipal regulations of another country, is soutterly unjustifiable, that it cannot be wondered at that the Americansresent the conduct of the European abolishionists, in the mostunqualified and violent manner. 

The conversation that I am now about to repeat, took place on theThames. Our visits, hitherto, had been restricted by the rain to London. To-day, the weather being fine, we took passage on board of a steamer, and went to Greenwich. 

While we were walking up and down the deck, Mr. Slick again adverted tothe story of the government spies with great warmth. I endeavoured, butin vain, to persuade him that no regular organized system of espionageexisted in England. He had obtained a garbled account of one or twooccurrences, and his prejudice, (which, notwithstanding his disavowal, I knew to be so strong, as to warp all his opinions of England and theEnglish), immediately built up a system, which nothing I could say, could at all shake. 

I assured him the instances he had mentioned were isolated andunauthorized acts, told in a very distorted manner but mitigated, asthey really were, when truly related, they were at the time receivedwith the unanimous disapprobation of every right-thinking man in thekingdom, and that the odium which had fallen on the relators, was soimmeasurably greater than what had been bestowed on the thoughtlessprincipals, that there was no danger of such things again occurring inour day. But he was immovable. 

"Oh, of course, it isn't true, " he said, "and every Englishman willswear it's a falsehood. But you must not expect us to disbelieve it, nevertheless; for your travellers who come to America, pick up here andthere, some absurd ontruth or another; or, if they are all picked upalready, invent one; and although every man, woman, and child is readyto take their bible oaths it is a bam, yet the English believe this onefalse witness in preference to the whole nation. 

"You must excuse me, Squire; you have a right to your opinion, thoughit seems you have no right to blart it out always; but I am a freeman, I was raised in Slickville, Onion County, State of Connecticut, UnitedStates of America, which _is_ a free country, and no mistake; and I havea right to my opinion, and a right to speak it, too; and let me see theman, airl or commoner, parliamenterer or sodger officer, that dare toreport me, I guess he'd wish he'd been born a week later, that's all. I'd make a caution of him, _I_ know. I'd polish his dial-plate fust, andthen I'd feel his short ribs, so as to make him larf, a leetle jist aleetle the loudest he ever heerd. Lord, he'd think thunder and lightnin'a mint julip to it. I'd ring him in the nose as they do pigs in mycountry, to prevent them rootin' up what they hadn't ought. "

Having excited himself by his own story, he first imagined a case andthen resented it, as if it had occurred. I expressed to him my greatregret that he should visit England with these feelings and prejudices, as I had hoped his conversation would have been as rational and asamusing as it was in Nova Scotia, and concluded by saying that I feltassured he would find that no such prejudice existed here against hiscountrymen, as he entertained towards the English. 

"Lord love you!" said he, "I have no prejudice. I am the most candid manyou ever see. I have got some grit, but I ain't ugly, I ain't indeed. "

"But you are wrong about the English; and I'll prove it to you. Do yousee that turkey there?" said he. 

"Where?" I asked. "I see no turkey; indeed, I have seen none on board. What do you mean?"

"Why that slight, pale-faced, student-like Britisher; he is a turkey, that feller. He has been all over the Union, and he is a goin' to writea book. He was at New York when we left, and was introduced to me in thestreet. To make it liquorish, he has got all the advertisements aboutrunaway slaves, sales of niggers, cruel mistresses and licentiousmasters, that he could pick up. He is a caterer and panderer to Englishhypocrisy. There is nothin' too gross for him to swaller. We call themturkeys; first because they travel so fast--for no bird travels hot footthat way, except it be an ostrich--and second, because they gobbleup every thing that comes in their way. Them fellers will swaller afalsehood as fast as a turkey does a grasshopper; take it right downwhole, without winkin'. 

"Now, as we have nothin' above particular to do, 'I'll cram him' foryou; I will show you how hungry he'll bite at a tale of horror, let itbe never so onlikely; how readily he will believe it, because it is aginus; and then, when his book comes out, you shall see that all Englandwill credit it, though I swear I invented it as a cram, and you swearyou heard it told as a joke. They've drank in so much that is strong, in this way, have the English, they require somethin' sharp enough totickle their palates now. Wine hante no taste for a man that drinksgrog, that's a fact. It's as weak as Taunton water. Come and walk up anddown deck along with me once or twice, and then we will sit down by him, promiscuously like; and as soon as I get his appetite sharp, see how Iwill cram him. "

"This steam-boat is very onsteady to-day. Sir, " said Mr. Slick; "it'snot overly convenient walking, is it?"

The ice was broken. Mr. Slick led him on by degrees to his travels, commencing with New England, which the traveller eulogised very much. He then complimented him on the accuracy of his remarks and the depthof his reflections, and concluded by expressing a hope that he wouldpublish his observations soon, as few tourists were so well qualifiedfor the task as himself. 

Finding these preliminary remarks taken in good part, he commenced theprocess of "cramming. "

"But oh, my friend, " said he, with a most sanctimonious air, "did youvisit, and I am ashamed as an American citizen to ask the question, Ifeel the blood a tannin' of my cheek when I inquire, did you visit theSouth? That land that is polluted with slavery, that land wherethe boastin' and crackin' of freemen pile up the agony pangs on thecorroding wounds inflicted by the iron chains of the slave, until naturcan't stand it no more; my heart bleeds like a stuck critter, when Ithink of this plague spot on the body politic. I ought not to speakthus; prudence forbids it, national pride forbids it; but genu_wine_feelings is too strong for polite forms. 'Out of the fulness of theheart the mouth speaketh. ' Have you been there?"

"Turkey" was thrown off his guard, he opened his wallet, which was wellstocked, and retailed his stories, many of them so very rich, that Idoubted the capacity of the Attache to out-Herod him. Mr. Slick receivedthese tales with evident horror, and complimented the narrator with awell simulated groan; and when he had done, said, "Ah, I see how itis, they have purposely kept dark about the most atrocious features ofslavery. Have you never seen the Gougin' School?"

"No, never. "

"What, not seen the Gougin' School?"

"No, Sir; I never heard of it. "

"Why, you don't mean to say so?"

"I do, indeed, I assure you. "

"Well, if that don't pass! And you never even heerd tell of it, eh?"

"Never, Sir. I have never either seen it or heard of it. "

"I thought as much, " said Mr. Slick. "I doubt if any Britisher ever didor ever will see it. Well, Sir, in South Carolina, there is a man calledJosiah Wormwood; I am ashamed to say he is a Connecticut man. For aconsiderable of a spell, he was a strollin' preacher, but it didn'tpay in the long run. There is so much competition in that line in ourcountry, that he consaited the business was overdone, and he opened aLyceum to Charleston South Car, for boxin', wrestlin' and other purliteBritish accomplishments; and a most a beautiful sparrer he is, too; Idon't know as I ever see a more scientific gentleman than he is, inthat line. Lately, he has halfed on to it the art of gougin' or'monokolisin, ' as he calls it, to sound grand; and if it weren't sodreadful in its consequences, it sartinly is amost allurin' thing, isgougin'. The sleight-of-hand is beautiful. All other sleights we knoware tricks; but this is reality; there is the eye of your adversary inyour hand; there is no mistake. It's the real thing. You feel you havehim; that you have set your mark on him, and that you have took yoursatisfaction. The throb of delight felt by a 'monokolister' is beyondall conception. "

"Oh heavens!" said the traveller, "Oh horror of horrors! I never heardany thing so dreadful. Your manner of telling it, too, adds to itsterrors. You appear to view the practice with a proper Christiandisgust; and yet you talk like an amateur. Oh, the thing is sickening. "

"It is, indeed, " said Mr. Slick, "particularly to him that loses hispeeper. But the dexterity, you know, is another thing. It is veryscientific. He has two niggers, has Squire Wormwood, who teach thewrastlin' and gouge-sparrin'; but practisin' for the eye is done forpunishment of runaways. He has plenty of subjects. All the planterssend their fugit_ive_ niggers there to be practised on for an eye. Thescholars ain't allowed to take more than one eye out of them; if theydo, they have to pay for the nigger; for he is no sort o' good after, for nothin' but to pick oakum. I could go through the form, and give youthe cries to the life, but I won't; it is too horrid; it really is toodreadful. "

"Oh do, I beg of you, " said the traveller. 

"I cannot, indeed; it is too shocking. It will disgust you. "

"Oh, not at all, " said Turkey, "when I know it is simulated, and notreal, it is another thing. "

"I cannot, indeed, " said Mr. Slick. "It would shock your philanthropicsoul, and set your very teeth of humanity on edge. But have you everseen--the Black Stole?"

"No. "

"Never seen the Black Stole?"

"No, never. "

"Why, it ain't possible? Did you never hear of it nother?"

"No, never. Well now, do tell!"

"So you never heerd tell of it, nor never sot eyes on it?"

"Certainly never. "

"Well, that bangs the bush, now! I suppose you didn't. Guess you neverdid, and never will, nor no other traveller, nother, that ever sleptin shoe-leather. They keep dark about these atrocities. Well, the BlackStole is a loose kind of shirt-coat, like an English carter's frock;only, it is of a different colour. It is black instead of white, andmade of nigger hide, beautifully tanned, and dressed as soft as a glove. It ain't every nigger's hide that's fit for a stole. If they are tooyoung, it is too much like kid; if they are too old, it's like soleleather, it's so tough; and if they have been whipt, as all on 'em havea'most, why the back is all cut to pieces, and the hide ruined. Ittakes several sound nigger skins to make a stole; but when made, it's abeautiful article, that's a fact. 

"It is used on a plantation for punishment. When the whip don't do itswork, strip a slave, and jist clap on to him the Black Stole. Dresshim up in a dead man's skin, and it frightens him near about to death. You'll hear him screetch for a mile a'most, so 'tarnally skeered. Andthe best of the fun is, that all the rest of the herd, bulls, cows, andcalves, run away from him, jist as if he was a panther. "

"Fun, Sir! Do you call this fun?"

"Why sartainly I do. Ain't it better nor whippin' to death? "What'sa Stole arter all? It's nothin' but a coat. Philosophizin' on it, Stranger, there is nothin' to shock a man. The dead don't feel. Skinnin', then, ain't cruel, nor is it immoral. To bury a good hide, is, waste--waste is wicked. There are more good hides buried in theStates, black and white, every year, than would pay the poor-rates andstate-taxes. They make excellent huntin'-coats, and would make beautifulrazor-straps, bindin' for books, and such like things; it would make anoble export. Tannin' in hemlock bark cures the horrid nigger flavour. But then, we hante arrived at that state of philosophy; and when it isconfined to one class of the human family, it would be dangerous. The skin of a crippled slave might be worth more than the critter washimself; and I make no doubt, we should soon hear of a stray niggerbeing shot for his hide, as you do of a moose for his skin, and a bearfor his fur. 

"Indeed, that is the reason (though I shouldn't mention it as anAttache), that our government won't now concur to suppress the slavetrade. They say the prisoners will all be murdered, and their peelssold; and that vessels, instead of taking, in at Africa a cargo ofhumans, will take in a cargo of hides, as they do to South America. As aChristian, a philanthropist, indeed, as a man, this is a horrid subjectto contemplate, ain't it?"

"Indeed it is, " said Turkey. "I feel a little overcome--my head swims--Iam oppressed with nausea--I must go below. "

"How the goney swallered it all, didn't he?" said Mr. Slick, with greatglee. "Hante he a most a beautiful twist that feller? How he gobbled itdown, tank, shank and flank at a gulp, didn't he. Oh! he is a Turkeyand no mistake, that chap. But see here, Squire; jist look through theskylight. See the goney, how his pencil is a leggin' it off, for dearlife. Oh, there is great fun in crammin' those fellers. 

"Now tell me candid, Squire; do you think there is no prejudice in theBritishers agin us and our free and enlightened country, when they canswaller such stuff as the Gougin' School and _Black Stole_?"

CHAPTER VI. THE PRINCE DE JOINVILLE'S HORSE. 

"There is more in that story, Squire, " said Mr. Hopewell, "of thePatron, and Sam's queer illustration of the Cow's Tail, than you areaware of. The machinery of the colonies is good enough in itself, butit wants a safety valve. When the pressure within is too great, thereshould be something devised to let off the steam. This is a subjectwell worthy of your consideration; and if you have an opportunity ofconversing with any of the ministry, pray draw their attention to it. Bynot understanding this, the English have caused one revolution at home, and another in America. "

"Exactly, " said Mr. Slick. "It reminds me of what I once saw done by thePrince de Joinville's horse, on the Halifax road. "

"Pardon me, " said Mr. Hopewell, "you shall have an opportunity presentlyof telling your story of the Prince's horse, but suffer me to proceed. 

"England, besides other outlets, has a never-failing one in thecolonies, but the colonies have no outlet. Cromwell and Hampden wereactually embarked on board of a vessel in the Thames, for Boston, whenthey were prevented from sailing by an Order in Council. What was theconsequence? The sovereign was dethroned. Instead of leading a smallsect of fanatical puritans, and being the first men of a village inMassachussets, they aspired to be the first men in an empire, andsucceeded. So in the old colonies. Had Washington been sent abroadin command of a regiment, Adams to govern a colony, Franklin to makeexperiments in an observatory like that at Greenwich, and a moreextended field been opened to colonial talent, the United States wouldstill have continued to be dependencies of Great Britain. 

"There is no room for men of talent in British America; and by notaffording them an opportunity of distinguishing themselves, or rewardingthem when they do, they are always ready to make one, by opposition. Incomparing their situation with that of the inhabitants of the BritishIsles, they feel that they labour under disabilities; these disabilitiesthey feel as a degradation; and as those who impose that degradationlive three thousand miles off, it becomes a question whether it isbetter to suffer or resist. "

"The Prince de Joinville's horse, " said Mr. Slick, "is a case in pint. "

"One moment, Sam, " said Mr. Hopewell. 

"The very word 'dependencies' shows the state of the colonies. If theyare to be retained, they should be incorporated with Great Britain. The people should be made to feel, not that they are colonists, butEnglishmen. They may tinker at constitutions as much as they please;the root of the evil lies deeper than statesmen are aware of. O'Connell, when he agitates for a repeal of the Union, if he really has no ulteriorobjects beyond that of an Irish Parliament, does not know what he istalking about. If his request were granted, Ireland would become aprovince, and descend from being an integral part of the empire, intoa dependency. Had he ever lived in a colony, he would have known thetendencies of such a condition. 

"What I desire to see, is the very reverse. Now that steam has unitedthe two continents of Europe and America, in such a manner that youcan travel from Nova Scotia to England, in as short a time as itonce required to go from Dublin to London, I should hope for a unitedlegislature. Recollect that the distance from New Orleans to the headof the River is greater than from Halifax N. S. , to Liverpool. I donot want to see colonists and Englishmen arrayed against each other, asdifferent races, but united as one people, having the same rights andprivileges, each bearing a share of the public burdens, and all having avoice in the general government. 

"The love of distinction is natural to man. Three millions of peoplecannot be shut up in a colony. They will either turn on each other, orunite against their keepers. The road that leads to retirement in theprovinces, should be open to those whom the hope of distinction invitesto return and contend for the honours of the empire. At present, theegress is practically closed. "

"If you was to talk for ever, Minister, " said Mr. Slick, "you couldn'tsay more than the Prince de Joinville's hoss on that subject. "

The interruption was very annoying; for no man I ever met, so thoroughlyunderstands the subject of colonial government as Mr. Hopewell. Hisexperience is greater than that of any man now living, and his viewsmore enlarged and more philosophical. 

"Go on, Sam, " said he with great good humour. "Let us hear what thePrince's horse said. "

"Well, " said Mr. Slick, "I don't jist exactly mean to say he spoke, asBalaam's donkey did, in good English or French nother; but he did thatthat spoke a whole book, with a handsum wood-cut to the fore, and that'sa fact. 

"About two years ago, one mortal brilin' hot day, as I was a pokin'along the road from Halifax to Windsor, with Old Clay in the waggon, with my coat off, a ridin' in my shirt-sleeves, and a thinkin' how slicka mint-julep would travel down red-lane, if I had it, I heard such achatterin', and laughin', and screamin' as I never a'most heerd afore, since I was raised. 

"'What in natur' is this, ' sais I, as I gave Old Clay a crack of thewhip, to push on. 'There is some critters here, I guess, that have founda haw haw's nest, with a tee hee's egg in it. What's in the wind now?'Well, a sudden turn of the road brought me to where they was, and whoshould they be but French officers from the Prince's ship, travellin'incog. In plain clothes. But, Lord bless you, cook a Frenchman any wayyou please, and you can't disguise him. Natur' will out, in spite ofall, and the name of a Frencher is written as plain as any thing in hiswhiskers, and his hair, and his skin, and his coat, and his boots, andhis air, and his gait, and in everythin', but only let him open hismouth, and the cat's out of the bag in no time, ain't it? They are drollboys, is the French, that's a fact. 

"Well, there was four on 'em dismounted, a holdin' of their hosses bythe bridle, and a standin' near a spring of nice cool water; and therewas a fifth, and he was a layin' down belly flounder on the ground, atryin' to drink out of the runnin' spring. 

"'Parley vous French, ' sais I, 'Mountsheer?' At that, they sot to, andlarfed again more than ever, I thought they would have gone into thehigh strikes, they hee-hawed so. 

"Well, one on 'em, that was a Duke, as I found out afterwards, said 'Oyees, Saar, we spoked English too. '

"'Lawful heart!' sais I, 'what's the joke?'

"'Why, ' sais he, 'look there, Sare. ' And then they larfed agin, ready tosplit; and sore enough, no sooner had the Leftenant layed down to drink, than the Prince's hoss kneeled down, and put his head jist over hisneck, and began to drink too. Well, the officer couldn't get up for thehoss, and he couldn't keep his face out of the water for the hoss, andhe couldn't drink for the hoss, and he was almost choked to death, andas black in the face as your hat. And the Prince and the officers larfedso, they couldn't help him, if they was to die for it. 

"Sais I to myself, 'A joke is a joke, if it tante carried too far, but this critter win be strangled, as sure as a gun, if he lays heresplutterin' this way much longer. ' So I jist gives the hoss a dab inthe mouth, and made him git up; and then sais I, 'Prince, ' sais I, for Iknow'd him by his beard, he had one exactly like one of the oldsaint's heads in an Eyetalian pictur, all dressed to a pint, so sais I, 'Prince, ' and a plaguy handsum man he is too, and as full of fun as akitten, so sais I, 'Prince, ' and what's better, all his officers seemedplaguy proud and fond of him too; so sais I, 'Prince, voila le conditionof one colonist, which, ' sais I, 'Prince, means in English, thatleftenant is jist like a colonist. '

"'Commong, ' sais he, 'how is dat?'

"'Why' sais I, 'Prince, whenever a colonist goes for to drink at aspring of the good things in this world, (and plaguy small springs wehave here too, ) and fairly lays down to it, jist as he gets his lipscleverly to it, for a swig, there is some cussed neck or another, ofsome confounded Britisher, pops right over him, and pins him there. Hecan't get up, he can't back out, and he can't drink, and he is blackedand blued in the face, and most choked with the weight. '

"'What country was you man of?' said he, for he spoke very good for aFrenchman. 

"With that I straightened myself up, and looked dignified, for I know'dI had a right to be proud, and no mistake; sais I, 'Prince, I am anAmerican citizen. ' How them two words altered him. P'raps there beant notwo words to ditto 'em. He looked for all the world like a different manwhen he seed I wasn't a mean uncircumcised colonist. 

"'Very glad to see you, Mr. Yankee, ' said he, 'very glad indeed. Shall Ihave de honour to ride with you a little way in your carriage?'

"'As for the matter of that, ' sais I, 'Mountsheer Prince, the honour isall the other way, ' for I can be as civil as any man, if he sets out toact pretty and do the thing genteel. 

"With that he jumped right in, and then he said somethin' in Frenchto the officers; some order or another, I suppose, about comin on andfetchin' his hoss with them. I have hearn in my time, a good many menspeak French, but I never see the man yet, that could hold a candleto _him_. Oh, it was like lightnin', jist one long endurin' streak; itseemed all one sentence and one word. It was beautiful, but I couldn'tonderstand it, it was so everlastin' fast. 

"'Now, ' sais he, 'set sail. ' And off we sot, at the rate of sixteennotts an hour. Old Clay pleased him, you may depend; he turned round andclapped his hands, and larfed, and waved his hat to his officers tocome on; and they whipped, and spurred, and galloped, and raced for dearlife; but we dropped 'em astarn like any thing, and he larfed again, heartier than ever There is no people a'most, like to ride so fast assailors; they crack on, like a house a fire. 

"Well, arter a while, sais he, 'Back topsails, ' and I hauled up, andhe jumped down, and outs with a pocket book, and takes a beautiful goldcoronation medal. (It was solid gold, no pinchback, but the rael yallerstuff, jist fresh from King's shop to Paris, where his money is made), and sais he, 'Mr. Yankee, will you accept that to remember the Prince deJoinville and his horse by?' And then he took off his hat and made me abow, and if that warn't a bow, then I never see one, that's all. I don'tbelieve mortal man, unless it was a Philadelphia nigger, could make sucha bow. It was enough to sprain his ankle he curled so low. And then offhe went with a hop, skip, and a jump, sailor fashion, back to meet hispeople. 

"Now, Squire, if you see Lord Stanley, tell him that story of the Princede Joinville's horse; but before you get so far as that, pin him byadmissions. When you want to get a man on the hip, ax him a questionor two, and get his answers, and then you have him in a corner, he muststand and let you put on the bridle. He cant help it no how, he can fixit. 

"Says you, 'My Lord'--don't forget his title--every man likes the soundof that, it's music to his ears, it's like our splendid national air, Yankee Doodle, you never get tired of it. 'My Lord, ' sais you, 'what doyou suppose is the reason the French keep Algiers?' Well, he'll upand say, it's an outlet for the fiery spirits of France, it gives thememployment and an opportunity to distinguish themselves, and what theclimate and the inimy spare, become valuable officers. It makes goodsoldiers out of bad subjects. 

"'Do you call that good policy?' sais you. 

"Well, he's a trump, is Mr. Stanley, at least folks say so; and he'llsay right off the reel 'onquestionably it is--excellent policy. '

"When he says that, you have him bagged, he may flounder and spring likea salmon jist caught; but he can't out of the landin' net. You've gothim, and no mistake. Sais you 'what outlet have you for the colonies?'

"Well, he'll scratch his head and stare at that, for a space. He'llhum and haw a little to get breath, for he never thought of that afore, since he grow'd up; but he's no fool, I can tell you, and he'll out withhis mould, run an answer and be ready for you in no time. He'll say, 'They don't require none. Sir. They have no redundant population. Theyare an outlet themselves. '

"Sais you, 'I wasn't talking of an outlet for population, for France orthe provinces nother. I was talking of an outlet for the clever men, forthe onquiet ones, for the fiery spirits. '

"'For that. Sir, ' he will say, 'they have the local patronage. '

"'Oh!' sais you, 'I warn't aware. I beg pardon, I have been absent sometime, as long as twenty days or perhaps twenty-five, there must havebeen great changes, since I left. '

"'The garrison, ' sais you. 

"'Is English, ' sais he. 

"'The armed ships in the harbour?'

"'English. '

"'The governor and his secretary?'

"'English. '

"'The principal officer of customs and principal part of his deputies?'

"'English. '

"'The commissariat and the staff?'

"'English to a man. '

"'The dockyard people?'

"'English. '

"'The postmaster giniral?'

"'English. '

"'What, English?' sais you, and look all surprise, as if you didn'tknow. 'I thought he was a colonist, seein' the province pays so much forthe mails. '

"'No, ' he'll say, 'not now; we have jist sent an English one over, forwe find it's a good thing that. '

"'One word more, ' sais you, 'and I have done. If your army officers outthere, get leave of absence, do you stop their pay?'

"'No. '

"'Do you sarve native colonists the same way?'

"'No, we stop half their salaries. '

"'Exactly, ' sais you, 'make them feel the difference. Always make anigger feel he is a nigger, or he'll get sassy, you may depend. As forpatronage, ' sais you, 'you know as well as I do, that all that'snot worth havin', is jist left to poor colonist. He is an officer ofmilitia, gets no pay and finds his own fit out. Like Don Quixote'stailor, he works for nothin' and finds thread. Any other little mattersof the same kind, that nobody wants, and nobody else will take; ifBlue-nose makes interest for, and has good luck, he can get as a greatfavour, to conciliate his countrymen. No, Minister, ' sais you, 'you area clever man, every body sais you are a brick; and if you ain't, youtalk more like one, than any body I have seen this while past. I don'twant no office myself, if I did p'raps, I wouldn't talk about patronagethis way; but I am a colonist, I want to see the colonists remain so. They _are_ attached to England, that is a fact, keep them so, by makingthem Englishmen. Throw the door wide open; patronise them; enlist themin the imperial sarvice, allow them a chance to contend for honours andlet them win them, if they can. If they don't, it's their own fault, andcuss 'em they ought to be kicked, for if they ain't too lazy, there isno mistake in 'em, that's a fact. The country will be proud of them, ifthey go ahead. Their language will change then. It will be _our_ army, the delighted critters will say, not the English army; _our_ navy, _our_church, _our_ parliament, _our_ aristocracy, &c. , and the word Englishwill be left out holus-bolus, and that proud, that endearin' word"our" will be insarted. Do this, and you will shew yourself the firststatesman of modern times. You'll rise right up to the top of the pot, you'll go clean over Peel's head, as your folks go over ourn, not byjumpin' over him, but by takin' him by the neck and squeezin' himdown. You 'mancipated the blacks, now liberate the colonists and makeEnglishmen of them, and see whether the goneys won't grin from ear toear, and shew their teeth, as well as the niggers did. Don't letYankee clockmakers, (you may say that if you like, if it will help yourargument, ) don't let travellin' Yankee clockmakers tell such stories, against _your_ justice and _our_ pride as that of the Prince deJoinville and his horse. '"

CHAPTER VII. LIFE IN THE COUNTRY. 

"Here, " said Mr. Sick, "is an invitation for you and me, and minister togo and visit Sir Littleeared Bighead, down to Yorkshire. You can go ifyou like, and for once, p'raps it's worth goin' to see how these chapsfirst kill time, and then how time kills them in turn. Eatin', drinkin', sleepin', growlin', fowlin', and huntin' kills time; andgout, aperplexy, dispepsy, and blue devils kills them. They are like twofightin' dogs, one dies of the thrashin' he gets, and t'other dies ofthe wounds he got a killin' of him. Tit for tat; what's sarce for thegoose, is sarce for the gander. 

"If you want to go, Minister will go with you; but hang me if I do. Theonly thing is, it'll puzzle you to get him away, if he gets down there. You never see such a crotchical old critter in your life as he is. Heflies right off the handle for nothin'. He goes strayin' away off in thefields and gullies, a browsin' about with a hammer, crackin' up bits ofstones like walnuts, or pickin' up old weeds, faded flowers, and whatnot; and stands starin' at 'em for ever so long, through his eye-glass, and keeps a savin' to himself, 'Wonderful provision of natur!' Airth andseas! what does he mean? How long would a man live on such provision, Ishould like to know, as them bitter yarbs. 

"Well, then, he'll jist as soon set down and jaw away by the hourtogether with a dirty-faced, stupid little poodle lookin' child, asif it was a nice spry little dog he was a trainin' of for treein'partridges; or talk poetry with the galls, or corn-law with thepatriots, or any thing. Nothin' comes amiss to him. 

"But what provokes me, is to hear him go blartin' all over the countryabout home scenes, and beautiful landscape, and rich vardure. My sakes, the vardure here is so deep, it looks like mournin'; it's actillydismal. Then there's no water to give light to the pictur, and no sun tocheer it; and the hedges are all square; and the lime trees are as stiffas an old gall that was once pretty, and has grow'd proud on the memoryof it. 

"I don't like their landscape a bit, there ain't no natur in it. Oh! ifyou go, take him along with you, for he will put you in consait of allyou see, except reform, dissent, and things o' that kind; for he is anout and out old Tory, and thinks nothin' can be changed here for thebetter, except them that don't agree with him. 

"He was a warnin' you t'other day not to take all I said for Gospelabout society here; but you'll see who's right and who's wrong aforeyou've done, I know. I described to you, when you returned from Germany, _Dinin' out_ to London. Now I'll give you my opinion of "Life in theCountry. " And fust of all, as I was a sayin', there is no such thing asnatur' here. Every thing is artificial; every thing of its kind alike;and every thing oninterestin' and tiresome. 

"Well, if London is dull, in the way of West Eend people, the country, Iguess, is a little mucher. Life in the country is different, of course, from life in town; but still life itself is alike there, exceptin' again_class difference_. That is, nobility is all alike, as far as theirorder goes; and country gents is alike, as far as their class goes; andthe last especially, when they hante travelled none, everlastin' flat, in their own way. Take a lord, now, and visit him to his country seat, and I'll tell you what you will find--a sort of Washington Statehouse place. It is either a rail old castle of the genuine kind, or agingerbread crinkum crankum imitation of a thing that only existed infancy, but never was seen afore--a thing that's made modern for use, andin ancient stile for shew; or else it's a great cold, formal, slice of aLondon terrace, stack on a hill in a wood. 

"Well, there is lawn, park, artificial pond called a lake, deer that'sfashionablized and civilized, and as little natur in 'em as the humanshave. Kennel and hounds for parsicutin' foxes--presarves (not what wecall presarves, quinces and apple sarce, and green gages done in sugar, but preserves for breedin' tame partridges and peasants to shoot at), H'aviaries, Hive-eries, H'yew-veris, Hot Houses, and so on; for they putan H before every word do these critters, and then tell us Yankees wedon't speak English. 

"Well, when you have seen an old and a new house of these folks, youhave seen all. Featurs differ a little, but face of all is so alike, that though p'raps you wouldn't mistake one for another, yet you'd saythey was all of one family. The king is their father. 

"Now it may seem kinder odd to you, and I do suppose it will, but whatlittle natur there is to England is among these upper crust nobility. _Extremes meet_. The most elegant critter in America is an Indgianchief. The most elegant one in England is a noble. There is natur inboth. You will vow that's a crotchet of mine, but it's a fact; and Iwill tell you how it is, some other time. For I opine the most charmin', most nateral, least artificial, kindest, and condescendenest people hereare rael nobles. Younger children are the devil, half rank makes 'emproud, and entire poverty makes 'em sour. _Strap pride on an empty puss, and it puts a most beautiful edge on, it cuts like a razor_. They haveto assart their dignity, tother one's dignity don't want no assartin'. It speaks for itself. 

"I won't enter into particulars now. I want to shew you country life;because if you don't want to hang yourself, don't tarry there, that'sall; go and look at 'em, but don't stay there. If you can't help it nohow, you can fix it, do it in three days; one to come, one to see, andone to go. If you do that, and make the fust late, and the last airly, you'll get through it; for it won't only make a day and a half, whensumtotalized. We'll fancy it, that's better than the rael thing, anytime. 

"So lets go to a country gentleman's house, or "landed, " as they call'em, cause they are so infarnally heavy. Well, his house is either anold onconvenient up and down, crooked-laned place, bad lighted, badwarmed, and shockin' cut up in small rooms; or a spic and span formal, new one, havin' all or most, according to his puss, of those things, about lord's houses, only on a smaller scale. 

"Well, I'll arrive in time for dinner, I'll titivate myself up, and downto drawin'-room, and whose the company that's to dine there? Why, cuss'em, half a dozen of these gents own the country for miles round, sothey have to keep some company at the house, and the rest is neighbours. 

"Now for goodness gracious sake, jist let's see who they be! Why one ortwo poor parsons, that have nothin' new in 'em, and nothin' new on'em, goodish sort of people too, only they larf a leetle, jist a leetlelouder at host's jokes, than at mine, at least, I suspicion it, 'cause Inever could see nothin' to larf at in his jokes. One or two country nobsof brother landed gents, that look as big as if the whole of the threeper cent consols was in their breeches pockets; one or two damsels, thatwas young once, but have confessed to bein' old maids, drop't the word'Miss, ' 'cause it sounded ridikilous, and took the title of 'Mrs. 'to look like widders. Two or three wivewomen of the Chinese stock, abustin' of their stays off a'most, and as fat as show-beef; an oldestson or two, with the eend of the silver spoon he was born with, apeepin' out o' the corner of his mouth, and his face as vacant as a hornlantern without a candle in it; a younger son or so jist from college, who looks as if he had an idea he'd have to airn his livin', and whoselantern face looks as if it had had a candle in it, that had e'en amostburnt the sides out, rather thin and pale, with streaks of Latin andGreek in it; one or two everlastin' pretty young galls, so pretty asthere is nothin' to do, you can't hardly help bein' spooney on 'em. 

"Matchless galls, they be too, for there is no matches for 'em. Theprimur-genitur boy takes all so they have no fortin. Well, a younger sonwon't do for 'em, for he has no fortin; and t'other primo geno there, couldn't if he would, for he wants the estate next to hisn, and has totake the gall that owns it, or he won't get it. I pity them galls, Ido upon my soul. It's a hard fate, that, as Minster sais, in his prettytalk, to bud, unfold, bloom, wither, and die on the parent stock, andhave no one to pluck the rose, and put it in his bosom, aint it?

"Dinner is ready, and you lock and lock, and march off two and two, tot'other room, and feed. Well, the dinner is like town dinner, there aintmuch difference, there is some; there is a difference atween a countrycoat, and a London coat; but still they look alike, and are intended tobe as near the same as they can. The appetite is better than town folks, and there is more eatin' and less talkin', but the talkin', like theeatin', is heavy and solemcoloy. 

"Now do, Mr. Poker, that's a good soul, now do, Squire, look at thesarvants. Do you hear that feller, a blowin' and a wheesin' like a hossthat's got the heaves? Well he is so fat and lazy, and murders beef andbeer so, he has got the assmy, and walkin' puts him out o' breath--aintit beautiful! Faithful old sarvant that, so attached to the family!which means the family prog. Always to home! which means he is alwayseatin' and drinkin', and hante time to go out. So respectful! whichmeans bowin' is an everlastin' sight easier, and safer too, nor talkin'is. So honest! which means, parquisites covers all he takes. Keeps everythin' in such good order! which means he makes the women do his work. Puts every thin' in it's place, he is so methodical! which means, thereis no young children in the house, and old aunty always puts things backwhere she takes 'em from. For she is a good bit of stuff is aunty, asthin, tough, and soople as a painter's palate knife. Oh, Lord! how Iwould like to lick him with a bran new cow hide whip, round and roundthe park, every day, an hour afore breakfast, to improve his wind, andteach him how to mend his pace. I'd repair his old bellowses for him, Iknow. 

"Then look at the butler, how he tordles like a Terrapin; he has got thegout, that feller, and no wonder, nother. Every decanter that comes inhas jist half a bottle in it, the rest goes in tastin', to see it aintcorked. His character would suffer if a bit o' cork floated in it. Everyother bottle is corked, so he drinks that bottle, and opens another, andgives master half of it. The housekeeper pets him, calls him Mr. , askshim if he has heard from Sir Philip lately, hintin' that he is of gentleblood, only the wrong side of the blanket, and that pleases him. Theyare both well to do in the world. Vails count up in time, and they talkbig sometimes, when alone together, and hint at warnin' off the oldknight, marryin', and settin' up a tripe shop, some o' these days; don'tthat hint about wedlock bring him a nice little hot supper that night, and don't that little supper bring her a tumbler of nice mulled wine, and don't both on 'em look as knowin' as a boiled codfish, and a shelledoyster, that's all. 

"He once got warned himself, did old Thomas, so said he, 'Where do youintend to go master?' 'Me, ' said the old man, scratchin' his head, andlookin' puzzled 'nowhere. ' 'Oh, I thought _you_ intend to leave, saidThomas for _I_ don't. ' 'Very good that, Thomas, come I like that. ' Theold knight's got an anecdote by that, and nanny-goats aint pickedup every day in the country. He tells that to every stranger, everystranger larfs, and the two parsons larf, and the old 'Sir' larfs so, hewakes up an old sleepin' cough that most breaks his ribs, and Thomas isset up for a character. 

"Well, arter servants is gone, and women folks made themselves scarce, we haul up closer to the table, have more room for legs, and then comesthe most interestin' part. Poor rates, quarter sessions, turnpikes, corn-laws, next assizes, rail-roads and parish matters, with a touchof the horse and dog between primo and secondo genitur, for variety. Ifpolitics turn up, you can read who host is in a gineral way with half aneye. If he is an ante-corn-lawer, then he is a manufacturer that wantsto grind the poor instead of grain. He is a _new man_ and reformer. Ifhe goes up to the bob for corn-law, then he wants to live and let live, is _of an old family_, and a tory. Talk of test oaths bein' done awaywith. Why Lord love you, they are in full force here yet. See what afeller swears by--that's his test, and no mistake. 

"Well, you wouldn't guess now there was so much to talk of, would you?But hear 'em over and over every day, the same everlastin' round, andyou would think the topics not so many arter all, I can tell you. Itsoon runs out, and when it does, you must wait till the next rain, foranother freshet to float these heavy logs on. 

"Coffee comes, and then it's up and jine the ladies. Well, then talkis tried agin, but it's no go; they can't come it, and one of thegood-natured fat old lady-birds goes to the piany, and sits on the musicstool. Oh, Hedges! how it creaks, but it's good stuff, I guess, itwill carry double this hitch; and she sings 'I wish I was a butterfly. 'Heavens and airth! the fust time I heard one of these hugeaceouscritters come out with that queer idee, I thought I should a dropt rightoff of the otter man on the floor, and rolled over and over a-laughin', it tickled me so, it makes me larf now only to think of it. Well, thewings don't come, such big butterflies have to grub it in spite of OldNick, and after wishin' and wishin' ever so long in vain, one of theyoung galls sits down and sings in rael right down airnest, 'I _won't_be a nun. ' Poor critter! there is some sense in that, but I guess shewill be bleeged to be, for all that. 

"Now eatin' is done, talkin' is done, and singin' is done; so here ischamber candles, and off to bed, that is if you are a-stayin' there. If you ain't, 'Mr. Weather Mutton's carriage is ready, Sir, ' and Mr. Weather Mutton and Mrs. Weather Mutton and the entire stranger get in, and when you do, you are in for it, I can tell you. You are in for aseven mile heat at least of cross country roads, axletree deep, rainpour-in' straight up and down like Niagara, high hedges, deep ditchesfull of water, dark as Egypt; ain't room to pass nothin' if you meetit, and don't feel jist altogether easy about them cussed alligators andnavigators, critters that work on rail-roads all day, and on houses andtravellers by night. 

"If you come with Mr. Weather Mutton, you seed the carriage in course. It's an old one, a family one, and as heavy as an ox cart. The hossesare old, family hosses, everlastin' fat, almighty lazy, and the waythey travel is a caution to a snail. It's vulgar to go fast, its onlybutcher's hosses trot quick, and besides, there is no hurry--there isnothin' to do to home. Affectionate couple! happy man! he takes hiswife's hand in his--kisses it? No, not he, but he puts his head back inthe corner of the carriage, and goes to sleep, and dreams--of her? Nothe indeed, but of a saddle of mutton and curren' jelly. 

"Well, if you are a-stoppin' at Sir Littleeared Bighead's, you escapethe flight by night, and go to bed and think of homeland natur'. Nextmornin', or rather next noon, down to breakfast. Oh, it's awfullystupid! That second nap in the mornin' always fuddles the head, andmakes it as mothery as ryled cyder grounds. Nobody looks as sweet assugar candy quite, except them two beautiful galls and their honeylips. But them is only to look at. If you want honey, there is some ona little cut glass, dug out of a dish. But you can't eat it, for lookin'at the genu_wine_, at least I can't, and never could. I don't know whatyou can do. 

"P'raps you'd like to look at the picture, it will sarve to pass awaytime. They are family ones. And family picture, sarve as a history. OurMexican Indgians did all their history in picture. Let's go round theroom and look. Lawful heart! what a big "Brown ox" that is. Old "Starand Garters;" father fatted him. He was a prize ox; he eat a thousandbushel of turnips, a thousand pound of oil cake, a thousand of hay, anda thousand weight of mangel wurzel, and took a thousand days to fat, andweighed ever so many thousands too. I don't believe it, but I don'tsay so, out of manners, for I'll take my oath he was fatted on porter, because he looks exactly like the footman on all fours. He is a walking"_Brown Stout_, " that feller. 

"There is a hunter, come, I like hosses; but this brute was painted whenat grass, and is too fat to look well, guess he was a goodish hoss inhis day though. He ain't a bad cut that's a fact. 

"Hullo! what's this pictur? Why, this is from our side of the water, asI am a livin' sinner, this is a New-Foundlander, this dog; yes, and heis of the true genu_wine_ breed too, look at his broad forehead--hisdew-claws--his little ears; (Sir Littleeared must have been named arterhim), his long hair--his beautiful eye. He is a first chop articlethat; but, oh Lord, he is too shockin' fat altogether. He is like MotherGary's chickens, they are all fat and feathers. A wick run through 'emmakes a candle. This critter is all hair and blubber, if he goes toonear the grate, he'll catch into a blaze and set fire to the house. 

"There's our friend the host with cap and gold tassel on, ridin' onhis back, and there's his younger brother, (that died to Cambridge fromsettin' up all night for his degree, and suppin' on dry mathematics, andswallerin' "Newton" whole) younger brother like, walkin' on foot, andleadin' the dog by the head, while the heir is a scoldin' him for notgoin' faster. 

"Then, there is an old aunty that a forten come from. She looks like abale o' cotton, fust screwed as tight as possible, and then corded hard. Lord, if they had only a given her a pinch of snuff, when she was fulldressed and trussed, and sot her a sneezin', she'd a blowed up, and thefortin would have come twenty years sooner. 

"Yes, it's a family pictur, indeed, they are all family picture. Theyare all fine animals, but over fed and under worked. 

"Now it's up and take a turn in the gardens. There is some splendidflowers on that slope. You and the galls go to look at 'em, and jist asyou get there, the grass is juicy from the everlastin' rain, and awfulslippy; up go your heels, and down goes stranger on the broad of hisback, slippin' and slidin' and coastin' right down the bank, slap overthe light mud-earth bed, and crushin' the flowers as flat as a pancake, and you yaller ochered all over, clean away from the scruff of yourneck, down to the tip eend of your heel. The galls larf, the helps larf, and the, bed-room maid larfs; and who the plague can blame them? OldMarm don't larf though, because she is too perlite, and besides, she'slost her flowers, and that's no larfin' matter; and you don't larf, 'cause you feel a little the nastiest you ever did, and jist as nearlike a fool as to be taken for one, in the dark, that's a fact. 

"Well, you renew the outer man, and try it agin, and it's look at thestable and hosses with Sir Host, and the dogs, and the carriages, and two American trees, and a peacock, and a guinea hen, and a goldpheasant, and a silver pheasant, and all that, and then lunch. Who theplague can eat lunch, that's only jist breakfasted?

"So away goes lunch, and off goes you and the 'Sir, ' a trampousin' and atrapsein' over the wet grass agin (I should like to know what ain't wetin this country), and ploughed fields, and wide ditches chock full ofdirty water, if you slip in, to souse you most ridikelous; and overgates that's nailed up, and stiles that's got no steps for fear ofthoroughfare, and through underwood that's loaded with rain-drops, awayoff to tother eend of the estate, to see the most beautiful field ofturnips that ever was seen, only the flies eat all the plants up; andthen back by another path, that's slumpier than t'other, and twiceas long, that you may see an old wall with two broke-out winders, allcovered with ivy, which is called a ruin. And well named it is, too, forI tore a bran new pair of trousers, most onhandsum, a scramblin' overthe fences to see it, and ruined a pair of shoes that was all squashedout of shape by the wet and mud. 

"Well, arter all this day of pleasure, it is time to rig up in yourgo-to-meetin' clothes for dinner; and that is the same as yesterday, only stupider, if that's possible; and that is Life in the Country. 

"How the plague can it be otherwise than dull? If there is nothin'to see, there can't be nothin' to talk about. Now the town is full ofthings to see. There is Babbage's machine, and Bank Governor's machine, and the Yankee woman's machine, and the flyin' machine, and all sorts ofmachines, and galleries, and tunnels, and mesmerisers, and theatres, andflower-shows, and cattle-shows, and beast-shows, and every kind of show, and what's better nor all, beautiful got-up women, and men turned out infust chop style, too. 

"I don't mean to say country women ain't handsum here, 'cause they be. There is no sun here; and how in natur' can it be otherways than thatthey have good complexions. But it tante safe to be caged with them ina house out o' town. Fust thing you both do, is to get spooney, makin'eyes and company-faces at each other, and then think of matin', likea pair of doves, and that won't answer for the like of you and me. Thefact is, Squire, if you want to see _women_, you musn't go to a housein the country, nor to mere good company in town for it, tho' therebe first chop articles in both; but you must go among the big bugs thetop-lofty nobility, in London; for since the days of old marm Eve, downto this instant present time, I don't think there ever was or ever willbe such splendiferous galls as is there. Lord, the fust time I seed 'emit put me in mind of what happened to me at New Brunswick once. Governorof Maine sent me over to their Governor's, official-like, with a stateletter, and the British officers axed me to dine to their mess. Well, the English brags so like niggers, I thought I'd prove 'em, and set 'emoff on their old trade jist for fun. So, says I, stranger captain, saisI, is all these forks and spoons, and plates and covers, and urns, and what nots, rael genu_wine_ solid silver, the clear thing, and nomistake. 'Sartainly, ' said he, 'we have nothin' but silver here. ' Hedid, upon my soul, just as cool, as if it was all true; well you can'ttell a mili_tary_ what he sais ain't credible, or you have to fighthim. It's considered ongenteel, so I jist puts my finger on my nose, andwinks, as much as to say, 'I ain't such a cussed fool as you take me tobe, I can tell you. '

"When he seed I'd found him out, he larfed like any thing. Guess hefound that was no go, for I warn't born in the woods to be scared byan owl, that's a fact. Well, the fust time I went to lord's party, Ithought it was another brag agin; I never see nothin' like it. Heavensand airth, I most jumpt out o' my skin. Where onder the sun, sais I tomyself, did he rake and scrape together such super-superior galls asthese. This party is a kind o' consarvitory, he has got all the rareeplants and sweetest roses in England here, and must have ransacked thewhole country for 'em. Knowin' I was a judge of woman kind, he wants meto think they are all this way; but it's onpossible. They are only"shew frigates" arter all; it don't stand to reason, they can't be allclippers. He can't put the leake into me that way, so it tante nouse tryin'. Well, the next time, I seed jist such another covey ofpartridges, same plumage, same step, and same breed. Well done, sais I, they are intarmed to pull the wool over my eyes, that's a fact, but theywon't find that no easy matter, I know. Guess they must be done now, they can't show another presarve like them agin in all Britain. Whattrouble they do take to brag here, don't they? Well, to make a longstory short; how do you think it eventuated, Squire? Why every party Iwent to, had as grand a shew as them, only some on 'em was better, factI assure you, it's gospel truth; there ain't a word of a lie in it, text to the letter. I never see nothin' like it, since I was raised, nordreamed nothin' like it, and what's more, I don't think the world hasnothin' like it nother. It beats all natur. It takes the rag off quite. If that old Turk, Mahomed, had seed these galls, he wouldn't a braggedabout his beautiful ones in paradise so for everlastinly, I know; forthese English heifers would have beat 'em all holler, that's a fact. Formy part, I call myself a judge. I have an eye there ain't no deceivin'. I have made it a study, and know every pint about a woman, as well as Ido about a hoss; therefore, if I say so, it must be so, and no mistake. I make all allowances for the gear, and the gettin' up, and the vampin', and all that sort o' flash; but toggery won't make an ugly gall handsum, nohow you can fix it. It may lower her ugliness a leetle, but it won'traise her beauty, if she hante got none. But I warn't a talkin' ofnobility; I was a talkin' of Life in the Country. But the wust of it is, when galls come on the carpet, I could talk all day; for the dear littlecritters, I _do_ love 'em, that's a fact. Lick! it sets me crazy a'most. Well, where was we? for petticoats always puts every thing out o' myhead. Whereabouts was we?"

"You were saying that there were more things to be seen in London thanin the country. "

"Exactly; now I have it. I've got the thread agin. So there is. 

"There's England's Queen, and England's Prince, and Hanover's King, andthe old Swordbelt that whopped Bony; and he is better worth seem' thanany man now livin' on the face of the univarsal airth, let t'other onebe where he will, that's a fact. He is a great man, all through thepiece, and no mistake. If there was--what do you call that word, whenone man's breath pops into 'nother man's body, changin' lodgins, like?"

"Do you mean transmigration?"

"Yes; if there was such a thing as that, I should say it was old Liveoakhimself, Mr. Washington, that was transmigrated into him, and that's nomean thing to say of him, I tell you. 

"Well now, there's none o' these things to the country; and it's soeverlastin' stupid, it's only a Britisher and a nigger that could livein an English country-house. A nigger don't like movin', and it wouldjist suit him, if it warn't so awful wet and cold. 

 "Oh if I was President of these here United States, I'd suck sugar candy and swing upon de gates; And them I didn't like, I'd strike 'em off de docket, And the way we'd go ahead, would be akin to Davy Crockit. With my zippy dooden, dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey, With my zippy dooden, dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey. 

"It might do for a nigger, suckin' sugar candy and drinkin' mint-julep;but it won't do for a free and enlightened citizen like me. A countryhouse--oh goody gracious! the Lord presarve me from it, I say. If everany soul ever catches me there agin, I'll give 'em leave to tell me ofit, that's all. Oh go, Squire, by all means; you will find it monstrouspleasant, I know you will. Go and spend a week there; it will make youfeel up in the stirrups, I know. Pr'aps nothin' can exceed it. It takesthe rag off the bush quite. It caps all, that's a fact, does 'Life inthe Country. '"

CHAPTER VIII. BUNKUM. 

I am not surprised at the views expressed by Mr. Slick in the previouschapter. He has led too active a life, and his habits and thoughts aretoo business-like to admit of his enjoying retirement, or accommodatinghimself to the formal restraints of polished society. And yet, aftermaking this allowance for his erratic life, it is but fair to add thathis descriptions were always exaggerated; and, wearied as he no doubtwas by the uniformity of country life, yet in describing it, he hasevidently seized on the most striking features, and made them moreprominent than they really appeared, even to his fatigued and prejudicedvision. 

In other respects, they are just the sentiments we may suppose wouldbe naturally entertained by a man like the Attache, under suchcircumstances. On the evening after that on which he had described "Lifein the Country" to me, he called with two "orders" for admission to theHouse of Commons, and took me down with him to hear the debates. 

"It's a great sight, " said he. "We shall see all their uppercrustmen put their best foot out. There's a great musterin' of the tribes, to-night, and the Sachems will come out with a great talk. There'll besome sport, I guess; some hard hittin', scalpin', and tomahawkin'. Tosee a Britisher scalp a Britisher is equal to a bullfight, anytime. Youdon't keer whether the bull, or the horse, or the rider is killed, noneof 'em is nothin' to you; so you can enjoy it, and hurror for him thatwins. I don't keer who carries the day, the valy of a treat of julep, but I want to see the sport. It's excitin', them things. Come, let'sgo. "

We were shown into a small gallery, at one end of the legislativewall (the two side ones being appropriated to members), and with somedifficulty found sitting room in a place that commanded a view of thewhole house. We were unfortunate. All the great speakers, Lord Stanley, Sir Robert Peel, Sir James Graham, Shiel, and Lord John Russell, hadeither already addressed the Chair, and were thereby precluded by therules of the House from coming forward again, or did not choose toanswer second-rate men. Those whom we did hear, made a most wretchedexhibition. About one o'clock, the adjournment took place, and wereturned, fatigued and disappointed. 

"Did you ever see the beat of that, Squire?" said Mr. Slick. "Don't thattake the rag off quite? Cuss them fellers that spoke, they are wuss thanassembly men, hang me if they aint; and _they_ aint fit to tend a beartrap, for they'd be sure to catch themselves, if they did, in their ownpit-fall. 

"Did you hear that Irishman a latherin' away with both arms, as if hewas tryin' to thrash out wheat, and see how bothered he looked, as ifhe couldn't find nothin' but dust and chaff in the straw? Well, thatcritter was agin the Bill, in course, and Irish like, used everyargument in favour of it. Like a pig swimmin' agin stream, every timehe struck out, he was a cuttin' of his own throat. He then blob blobblobbered, and gog gog goggled, till he choked with words and passion, and then sot down. 

"Then that English Radical feller, that spoke with great voice, andlittle sense. Aint he a beauty, without paint, that critter? He know'dhe had to vote agin the Bill, 'cause it was a Government Bill, and beknow'd he had to speak for _Bunkum_, and therefore--"

"_Bunkum!_" I said, "pray, what is that?"

"Did you never hear of Bunkum?"

"No, never. "

"Why, you don't mean to say you don't know what that is?"

"I do not indeed. "

"Not Bunkum? Why, there is more of it to Nova Scotia every winter, thanwould paper every room in Government House, and then curl the hair ofevery gall in the town. Not heer of _Bunkum_? why how you talk!"

"No, never. "

"Well, if that don't pass! I thought every body know'd that word. I'lltell you then, what Bunkum is. All over America, every place likes tohear of its members to Congress, and see their speeches, and if theydon't, they send a piece to the paper, enquirin' if their member died anateral death, or was skivered with a bowie knife, for they hante seenhis speeches lately, and his friends are anxious to know his fate. Ourfree and enlightened citizens don't approbate silent members; it don'tseem to them as if Squashville, or Punkinville, or Lumbertown was rightrepresented, unless Squashville, or Punkinville, or Lumbertown, makesitself heard and known, ay, and feared too. So every feller in boundenduty, talks, and talks big too, and the smaller the State, the louder, bigger, and fiercer its members talk. 

"Well, when a critter talks for talk sake, jist to have a speech inthe paper to send to home, and not for any other airthly puppus butelectioneering, our folks call it _Bunkum_. Now the State o' Maine is agreat place for _Bunkum_--its members for years threatened to run foulof England, with all steam on, and sink her, about the boundary line, voted a million of dollars, payable in pine logs and spruce boards, upto Bangor mills--and called out a hundred thousand militia, (only theynever come, ) to captur' a saw mill to New Brunswick--that's _Bunkum_. All that flourish about Right o' Sarch was _Bunkum_--all that brag abouthangin' your Canada sheriff was _Bunkum_. All the speeches about theCaroline, and Creole, and Right of Sarch, was _Bunkum_, In short, almost all that's said _in Congress_ in _the colonies_, (for we setthe fashions to them, as Paris galls do to our milliners, ) and all overAmerica is _Bunkum_. 

"Well, they talk Bunkum here too, as well as there. Slavery speeches areall Bunkum; so are reform speeches, too. Do you think them fellers thatkeep up such an everlastin' gab about representation, care one centabout the extension of franchise? Why no, not they; it's only to securetheir seats to gull their constituents, to get a name. Do you thinkthem goneys that make such a touss about the Arms' Bill, care about theIrish? No, not they; they want Irish votes, that's all--it's _Bunkum_. Do you jist go and mesmerise John Russell, and Macauley, and the otherofficers of the regiment of Reformers, and then take the awkward squadof recruits--fellers that were made drunk with excitement, and thenenlisted with the promise of a shillin', which they never got, thesargeants having drank it all; go and mesmerise them all, from GeneralRussell down to Private Chartist, clap 'em into a caterwaulin' orcatalapsin' sleep, or whatever the word is, and make 'em tell thesecrets of their hearts, as Dupotet did the Clear-voyancing gall, andjist hear what they'll tell you. 

"Lord John will say--'I was sincere!' (and I believe on my soul he was. He is wrong beyond all doubt, but he is an honest man, and a clever man, and if he had taken his _own_ way more, and given Powlet Thompson _his_less, he would a' been a great colony secretary; and more's the pityhe is in such company. He'll get off his beam ends, and righthimself though, yet, I guess. ) Well, he'd say--'I was sincere, I wasdisinterested; but I am disappointed. I have awakened a pack of hungryvillains who have sharp teeth, long claws, and the appetite of thedevil. They have swallered all I gave 'em, and now would eat me upwithout salt, if they could. Oh, that I could hark back! _there is nosatisfyin' a movement party_. '

"Now what do the men say, (I don't mean men of rank, but the men inthe ranks), --'Where's all the fine things we were promised when Reformgained the day?' sais they, 'ay, where are they? for we are wuss offthan ever, now, havin' lost all our old friends, and got bilked by ournew ones tarnationly. What did all their fine speeches end in at last?Bunkum; damn the thing but Bunkum. 

"But that aint the wust of it, nother. Bunkum, like lyin', is plaguy aptto make a man believe his own bams at last. From telling 'em so often, he forgets whether he grow'd 'em or dreamt 'em, and so he stands'right up on end, kisses the book, and swears to 'em, as positive as theIrishman did to the gun, which he said he know'd ever since it was apistol. Now, _that's Bunkum_. 

"But to get back to what we was a talkin' of, did you ever hear such badspeakin' in your life, now tell me candid? because if you have, I neverdid, that's all. Both sides was bad, it aint easy to say which is wus, six of one and half a dozen of t'other, nothin to brag of nary way. Thatgovernment man, that spoke in their favour, warn't his speech rich?

"Lord love you! I aint no speaker, I never made but one speech since Iwas raised, and that was afore a Slickville legislatur, and then I brokedown. I know'd who I was a talkin' afore; they was men that had cuttheir eye-teeth, and that you could'nt pull the wool over their eyes, nohow you could fix it, and I was young then. Now I'm growed up, Iguess, and I've got my narves in the right place, and as taught as adrum; and I _could_ speak if I was in the House o' Commons, that's afact. If a man was to try there, that was worth any thin', he'd find hewas a flute without knowin' it. They don't onderstand nothin' but Latinand Greek, and I'd buoy out them sand banks, keep the lead agoin', stickto the channel, and never take ground, I know. The way I'd cut wateraint no matter. Oh Solomon! what a field for good speakin' that questionwas to-night, if they only had half an eye, them fellers, and whata'most a beautiful mess they made of it on both sides!

"I ain't a vain man, and never was. You know, Squire, I hante a mosselof it in my composition; no, if you was to look at me with a ship'sglass you wouldn't see a grease spot of it in me. I don't think any ofus Yankees is vain people; it's a thing don't grow in our diggins. Wehave too much sense in a giniral way for that; indeed if we wanted any, we couldn't get none for love nor money, for John Bull has a monopolyof it. He won't open the trade. It's a home market he looks to, and thebest of it is, he thinks he hante none to spare. 

"Oh, John Bull, John Bull, when you are full rigged, with your whitecravat and white waistcoat like Young England, and have got yourgo-to-meetin' clothes on, if you ain't a sneezer, it's a pity, that'sall. No, I ain't a vain man, I despise it, as I do a nigger; but, Squire, what a glorious field the subject to-night is for a man thatknows what's what, and was up to snuff, ain't it? Airth and seas! if Iwas there, I could speak on either side; for like Waterloo it's a fairfield; it's good ground for both parties. Heavens what a speech I couldmake! I'd electrify 'em and kill 'em dead like lightnin', andthen galvanise 'em and fetch' em to life agin, and then give themexhiliratin' gass and set 'em a larfin', till they fairly wet themselvesagin with cryin'. Wouldn't it be fun, that's all? I could sting Peelso if I liked, he'd think a galley nipper had bit him, and he'd springright off the floor on to the table at one jump, gout or no gout, ravin'mad with pain and say, 'I'm bit thro' the boot by Gosh;' or if I wasto take his side, for I care so little about the British, all sides isalike to me, I'd make them Irish members dance like ravin', distractin'bed bugs. I'd make 'em howl, first wicked and then dismal, I know. 

"But they can't do it, to save their souls alive; some has it in 'em andcan't get it out, physic 'em as you would, first with vanity, and thenwith office; others have got a way out, but have nothin' to drive thro'the gate; some is so timid, they can't go ahead; and others are in suchan infarnal hurry, they spend the whole time in false starts. 

"No, there, is no good oratory to parliament now, and the English bragso, I doubt if it ever was so good, as they say it was in old times. Atany rate, it's all got down to "Bunkum" now. It's makin' a speech fornewspapers and not for the House. It's to tell on voters and not onmembers. Then, what a row they make, don't they? Hear, hear, hear;divide, divide, divide; oh, oh, oh; haw, haw, haw. It tante muchdifferent from stump oratory in America arter all, or speakin' off awhiskey barrel, is it? It's a sort of divil me-kear-kind o' audience;independent critters, that look at a feller full in the face, as sarcyas the divil; as much as to say, 'Talk away, my old 'coon, you won'talter me, I can tell you, it's all _Bunkum_. '

"Lord, I shall never forget poor old Davy Crocket's last speech; therewas no "bunkum" in that. He despised it; all good shots do, they aimright straight for the mark and hit it. There's no shootin' round thering, with them kinder men. Poor old feller, he was a great hunter; agreat shot with the rifle, a great wit, and a great man. He didn't leavehis _span_ behind him, when he slipt off the handle, I know. 

"Well he stood for an election and lost it, just afore he left theStates; so when it was over, he slings his powder horn on, over hisshoulders, takes his "Betsey, " which was his best rifle, onder his arm, and mounts on a barrel, to talk it into his constituents, and take leaveof 'em. 

"'Feller citizens, ' sais he, 'we've had a fair stand-up fight for it, and I'm whipped, that are a fact; and thar is no denyin' of it. I'vecome now to take my leave of you. You may all go to H--l, and I'll go toTexas. '

"And he stepped right down, and went over the boundary, and jined thepatriots agin Mexico, and was killed there. 

"Why it will never be forgot, that speech. It struck into the bull's eyeof the heart. It was noble. It said so much in a few words, and leftthe mind to fill the gaps up. The last words is a sayin' now, andalways will be, to all etarnity. Whenever a feller wants to shew howindifferent he is, he jist sais, 'you may go to (hem, hem, you know, )and I'll go to Texas. ' There is no _Bunkum_ in that, Squire. 

"Yes, there is no good speakin' there, speakin' is no use. Everyfeller is pledged and supports his party. A speech don't alter no man'sopinions; yes it _may_ alter his _opinions_, but it don't alter hisvote, that ain't his'n, it's his party's. Still, there is some creditin a good speech, and some fun too. No feller there has any ridicule; hehas got no ginger in him, he can neither crack his whip, nor lay it on;he can neither cut the hide nor sting it. Heavens! if I was there I andI'm sure it's no great boastin' to say I'm better than such fellers, asthem small fry of white bait is. If I was there, give me a good subjectlike that to-night, give me a good horn of lignum vitae--"

"Lignum vitae--what's that?"

"Lord-o-massy on us! you don't know nothin', Squire. Where have you beenall your born days, not to know what lignum vitae is? why lignum vitae, is hot brandy and water to be sure, pipin' hot, scald an iron pot amost, and spiced with cloves and sugar in it, stiff enough to make a tea-spoonstand up in it, as straight as a dead nigger. Wine ain't no good, itgoes off as quick as the white beads off of champaign does, and thenleaves a stupid head-ache behind it. But give me the subject and a hornof lignum vitae (of the wickedest kind), and then let a feller rile me, so as to get my back up like a fightin' cat's, and I'll tell youwhat I'd do, I'd sarve him as our Slickville boys sarve the cows toCalifornia. One on 'em lays hold of the tail, and the other skins heras she runs strait an eend. Next year, it's all growed ready for anotherflayin'. Fact, I assure you. Lord! I'd skin a feller so, his hide wouldnever grow agin; I'd make a caution of him to sinners, I know. 

"Only hear them fellers now talk of extendin' of the representation;why the house is a mob now, plaguy little better, I assure you. Like thehouse in Cromwell's time, they want "Sam Slick's" purge. But talkin'of mobs, puts me in mind of a Swoi-ree, I told you I'd describe that toyou, and I don't care if I do now, for I've jist got my talkin' tacksaboard. A Swoi-ree is--

"We'll talk of that some other time, Mr. Slick, " said I; "it is now neartwo o'clock, I must retire. "

"Well, well, " said he, "I suppose it is e'en a'most time to be a movin'. But, Squire, you are a Britisher, why the plague don't you get into thehouse? you know more about colony matters than the whole bilin' of" themput together, quite as much about other things, and speak like a--"

"Come, come, Mr. Slick, " said I, rising and lighting my bed-room candle, "it is now high time to bid you good night, for you are beginning totalk _Bunkum_. "

CHAPTER IX. THROWING THE LAVENDER. 

Mr. Slick's character, like that of many of his countrymen, is not soeasily understood as a person might suppose. We err more often than weare aware of, when we judge of others by ourselves. English touristshave all fallen into this mistake, in their, estimate of the Americans. They judge them by their own standard; they attribute effects to wrongcauses, forgetting that a different tone of feeling, produced by adifferent social and political state from their own, must naturallyproduce dissimilar results. 

Any person reading the last sketch containing the account, given by Mr. Slick of the House of Commons, his opinion of his own abilities as aspeaker, and his aspiration after a seat in that body, for the purposeof "skinning, " as he calls it, impertinent or stupid members, could notavoid coming to the conclusion that he was a conceited block-head; andthat if his countrymen talked in that absurd manner, they must be theweakest, and most vain-glorious people in the world. 

That he is a vain man, cannot be denied--self-taught men are apt to beso every where; but those who understand the New England humour, willat once perceive, that he has spoken in his own name merely as apersonification, and that the whole passage means after all, whentransposed into that phraseology which an Englishman would use, verylittle more than this, that the House of Commons presented a noblefield for a man of abilities as a public speaker; but that in fact, itcontained very few such persons. We must not judge of words or phrases, when used by foreigners, by the sense we attribute to them, butendeavour to understand the meaning they attach to them themselves. 

In Mexico, if you admire any thing, the proprietor immediately says, "Pray do me the honour to consider it yours, I shall be most happy, ifyou will permit me, to place it upon you, (if it be an ornament), or tosend it to your hotel, " if it be of a different description. Allthis means in English, a present; in Mexican Spanish, a civil speech, purporting that the owner is gratified, that it meets the approbationof his visiter. A Frenchman, who heard this grandiloquent reply to hispraises of a horse, astonished his friend, by thanking him in termsequally amplified, accepting it, and riding it home. 

Mr. Slick would be no less amazed, if understood literally. He has useda peculiar style; here again, a stranger would be in error, in supposingthe phraseology common to all Americans. It is peculiar only to acertain class of persons in a certain state of life, and in a particularsection of the States. Of this class, Mr. Slick is a specimen. I donot mean to say he is not a vain man, but merely that a portion only ofthat, which appears so to us, is vanity, and that the rest and by farthe greater portion too, is local or provincial peculiarity. 

This explanation is due to the Americans, who have been grosslymisrepresented, and to the English, who have been egregiously deceived, by persons attempting to delineate character, who were utterly incapableof perceiving those minute lights and shades, without which, a portraitbecomes a contemptible daub, or at most a mere caricature. 

"A droll scene that at the house o' represen_tatives_ last night, " saidMr. Slick when we next met, "warn't it? A sort o' rookery, like thatat the Shropshire Squire's, where I spent the juicy day. What a darnedcau-cau-cawin' they keep, don't they? These members are jist like therooks, too, fond of old houses, old woods, old trees, and old harnts. And they are jist as proud, too, as they be. Cuss 'em, they won't visita new man, or new plantation. They are too aristocratic for that. Theyhave a circle of their own. Like the rooks, too, they are privileged toscour over the farmers' fields all round home, and play the very devil. 

"And then a fellow can't hear himself speak for 'em; divide, divide, divide, question, question, question; cau, cau, cau, cau, cau, cau. Oh!we must go there again. I want you to see Peel, Stanley, Graham, Shiel, Russell, Macauley, Old Joe, and so on. These men are all upper crusthere. Fust of all, I want to hear your opinion of 'em. I take you to bea considerable of a good judge in these matters. "

"No Bunkum, Mr. Slick. "

"D---- that word Bunkum! If you say that 'ere agin, I won't say anothersyllable, so come now. Don't I know who you are? You know every mite, and morsel as well as I do, that you be a considerable of a judge ofthese critters, though you are nothin' but an outlandish colonist; andare an everlastin' sight better judge, too, if you come to that, thanthem that judge _you_. Cuss 'em, the state would be a nation sightbetter sarved, if one o' these old rooks was sent out to try trover fora goose, and larceny for an old hat, to Nova Scotia, and you was sentfor to take the ribbons o' the state coach here; hang me if it wouldn't. You know that, and feel your oats, too, as well as any one. So don't beso infarnal mealy-mouthed, with your mock modesty face, a turnin' upof the whites of your eyes as if you was a chokin', and savin' 'No_Bun-kum_, Mr. Slick. ' Cuss that word Bunkum! I am sorry I ever told youthat are story, you will be for everlastinly a throwin' up of that are, to me now. 

"Do you think if I warnted to soft sawder you, I'd take the white-washbrush to you, and slobber it, on, as a nigger wench does to a boardfence, or a kitchen wall to home, and put your eyes out with the lime?No, not I; but I could tickel you though, and have done it afore now, jist for practice, and you warn't a bit the wiser. Lord, I'd take acamel's-hair brush to you, knowin' how skittish and ticklesome you are, and do it so it would feel good. I'd make you feel kinder pleasant, Iknow, and you'd jist bend your face over to it, and take it as kindly asa gall does a whisper, when your lips keep jist a brushin' of the cheekwhile you are a talkin'. I wouldn't go to shock you by a doin' of itcoarse; you are too quick, and too knowin' for that. You should smellthe otter o' roses, and sniff, sniff it up your nostrils, and say toyourself, 'How nice that is, ain't it? Come, I like that, how sweetit stinks!' I wouldn't go for to dash scented water on your face, as ahired lady does on a winder to wash it, it would make you start back, take out your pocket-handkercher, and say, "Come, _Mister_ Slick, nononsense, if you please. " I'd do it delicate, I know my man: I'd use alight touch, a soft brush, and a smooth oily rouge. "

"Pardon me, " I said, "you overrate your own powers, and over-estimatemy vanity. You are flattering yourself now, you can't flatter me, for Idetest it. "

"Creation, man, " said Mr. Slick, "I have done it now afore your face, these last five minutes, and you didn't know it. Well, if that don'tbang the bush. It's tarnation all over that. Tellin' you, you was soknowin', so shy if touched on the flanks; how difficult you was totake-in, bein' a sensible, knowin' man, what's that but soft sawder? Youswallowed it all. You took it off without winkin', and opened your mouthas wide as a young blind robbin does for another worm, and then downwent the Bunkum about making you a Secretary of State, which was rathera large bolus to swaller, without a draft; down, down it went, like agreased-wad through a smooth rifle bore; it did, upon my soul. Heavens!what a take in! what a splendid sleight-of-hand! I never did nothin'better in all my born days. I hope I may be shot, if I did. Ha! ha! ha!ain't it rich? Don't it cut six inches on the rib of clear shear, that. Oh! it's han_sum_, that's a fact. "

"It's no use to talk about it, Mr. Slick, " I replied; "I plead guilty. You took me in then. You touched a weak point. You insensibly flatteredmy vanity, by assenting to my self-sufficiency, in supposing I wasexempt from that universal frailty of human nature; you "_threw theLavender_" well. "

"I did put the leake into you, Squire, that's a fact, " said he; "but letme alone, I know what I am about; let me talk on, my own way. Swallerwhat you like, spit out what is too strong for you; but don't put adrag-chain on to me, when I am a doin' tall talkin', and set my wheelsas fast as pine stumps. You know me, and I know you. You know my speed, and I know your bottom don't throw back in the breetchin' for nothin'that way. "

"Well, as I was a-sayin', I want you to see these great men, as theycall 'em. Let's weigh 'em, and measure 'em, and handle 'em, and thenprice 'em, and see what their market valy is. Don't consider 'em asTories, or Whigs, or Radicals; we hante got nothin' to do with none o'them; but consider 'em as statesmen. It's pot-luck with 'em all; takeyour fork as the pot biles up, jab it in, and fetch a feller up, seewhether he is beef, pork or mutton; partridge, rabbit or lobster;what his name, grain and flavour is, and how you like him. Treat 'emindifferent, and treat 'em independent. 

"I don't care a chaw o' tobacky for the whole on 'em; and none on 'emcare a pinch o' snuff for you or any Hortentort of a colonist that everwas or ever will be. Lord love you! if you was to write like Scott, andmap the human mind like Bacon, would it advance you a bit in prefarment?Not it. They have done enough for the colonists, they have turned 'emupside down, and given 'em responsible government? What more do therascals want? Do they ask to be made equal to us? No, look at theirsocial system, and their political system, and tell 'em your opinionlike a man. You have heard enough of their opinions of colonies, andsuffered enough from their erroneous ones too. You have had Durhamreports, and commissioners' reports, and parliament reports till yourstomach refuses any more on 'em. And what are they? a bundle of mistakesand misconceptions, from beginnin' to eend. They have travelled bystumblin', and have measured every thing by the length of their knee, as they fell on the ground, as a milliner measures lace, by the bendin'down of the forefinger--cuss 'em! Turn the tables on 'em. Report on_them_, measure _them_, but take care to keep your feet though, don't becaught trippin', don't make no mistakes. 

"Then we'll go to the Lords' House--I don't mean to meetin' house, though we must go there too, and hear Me Neil and Chalmers, and themsort o' cattle; but I mean the house where the nobles meet, pick outthe big bugs, and see what sort o' stuff they are made of. Let's takeminister with us--he is a great judge of these things. I should like youto hear his opinion; he knows every thin' a'most, though the ways of theworld bother him a little sometimes; but for valyin' a man, or statingprinciples, or talkin' politics, there ain't no man equal to him, hardly. He is a book, that's a fact; it's all there what you want; allyou've got to do is to cut the leaves. Name the word in the index, he'llturn to the page, and give you day, date, and fact, for it. There is nomistake in him. 

"That cussed provokin' visit of yours to Scotland will shove them thingsinto the next book, I'm afeered. But it don't signify nothin'; you can'tcram all into one, and we hante only broke the crust yet, and p'rhapsit's as well to look afore you leap too, or you might make as big a foolof yourself, as some of the Britishers have a-writin' about us and theprovinces. Oh yes, it's a great advantage havin' minister with you. He'll fell the big stiff trees for you; and I'm the boy for thesaplin's, I've got the eye and the stroke for them. They spring soconfoundedly under the axe, does second growth and underwood, it'sdangerous work, but I've got the sleight o' hand for that, and we'llmake a clean field of it. 

"Then come and survey; take your compass and chain to the ground andmeasure, and lay that off--branch and bark the spars for snakin' off theground; cord up the fire-wood, tie up the hoop poles, and then burn offthe trash and rubbish. Do it workman-like. Take your time to it as ifyou was workin' by the day. Don't hurry, like job work; don't slobber itover, and leave half-burnt trees and logs strewed about the surface, butmake smack smooth work. Do that, Squire, do it well, and that is, onlyhalf as good as you can, if you choose, and then--"

"And then, " said I, "I make no doubt you will have great pleasure '_inthrowin' the Lavender again_. "

CHAPTER X. AIMING HIGH. 

"What do you intend to do, Squire, with your two youngest boys?" saidMr. Slick to me to-day, as we were walking in the Park. 

"I design them, " I said, "for professions. One I shall educate for alawyer, and the other for a clergyman. "

"Where?"

"In Nova Scotia. "

"Exactly, " says he. "It shews your sense; it's the very place for 'em. It's a fine field for a young man; I don't know no better one no wherein the whole univarsal world. When I was a boy larnin' to shoot, saisfather to me, one day, 'Sam, ' sais he, 'I'll give you a lesson ingunnin' that's worth knowin'. "_Aim high_, " my boy; your gun naterallysettles down a little takin' sight, cause your arm gets tired, andwabbles, and the ball settles a little while it's a travellin', accordin' to a law of natur, called Franklin's law; and I obsarve youalways hit below the mark. Now, make allowances for these things ingunnin', and "aim high, " for your life, always. And, Sam, ' sais he, 'I've seed a great deal of the world, all mili_tary_ men do. 'I was toBunker's Hill durin' the engagement, and I saw Washington the day he wasmade President, and in course must know more nor most men of my age;and I'll give you another bit of advice, "Aim high" in life, and if youdon't hit the bull's eye, you'll hit the "fust circles, " and that ain'ta bad shot nother. '

"'Father, ' sais I, 'I guess I've seed more of the world than you have, arter all. '

"'How so, Sam?' sais he. 

"'Why, ' sais I, 'father, you've only been to Bunker's Hill, and that'snothin'; no part of it ain't too steep to plough; it's only a sizeablehillock, arter all. But I've been to the Notch on the White Mountain, so high up, that the snow don't melt there, and seed five States all toonce, and half way over to England, and then I've seed Jim Crow dance. So there now?' He jist up with the flat of his hand, and gave me a wipewith it on the side of my face, that knocked me over; and as I fell, helent me a kick on my musn't-mention-it, that sent me a rod or so afore Itook ground on all fours. 

"'Take that, you young scoundrel!' said he, 'and larn to speakrespectful next time to an old man, a mili_tary_ man, and your father, too. '

"It hurt me properly, you may depend. 'Why, ' sais I, as I picked myselfup, 'didn't you tell me to "aim high, " father? So I thought I'd do it, and beat your brag, that's all. '

"Truth is, Squire, I never could let a joke pass all my life, withouthavin' a lark with it. I was fond of one, ever since I was knee high toa goose, or could recollect any thin' amost; I have got into a horridsight of scrapes by 'em, that's a fact. I never forgot that lessonthough, it was kicked into me: and lessons that are larnt on the righteend, ain't never forgot amost. I _have_ "aimed high" ever since, andsee where I be now. Here I am an Attache, made out of a wooden clockpedlar. Tell you what, I shall be "embassador" yet, made out of nothin'but an "Attache, " and I'll be President of our great Republic, andalmighty nation in the eend, made out of an embassador, see if I don't. That comes of "aimin' high. " What do you call that water near yourcoach-house?"

"A pond. "

"Is there any brook runnin' in, or any stream runnin' out?"

"No. "

"Well, that's the difference between a lake and a pond. Now, set thatdown for a traveller's fact. Now, where do you go to fish?"

"To the lakes, of course; there are no fish in the ponds. "

"Exactly, " said Mr. Slick, "that is what I want to bring you to; thereis no fish in a pond, there is nothin' but frogs. Nova Scotia is onlya pond, and so is New Brunswick, and such outlandish, out o' the way, little crampt up, stagnant places. There is no 'big fish' there, nornever can be; there ain't no food for 'em. A colony frog!! Heavens andairth, what an odd fish that is? A colony pollywog! do, for gracioussake, catch one, put him into a glass bottle full of spirits, and sendhim to the Museum as a curiosity in natur. So you are a goin' to makeyour two nice pretty little smart boys a pair of colony frogs, eh? Oh!do, by all means. 

"You'll have great comfort in 'em, Squire. Monstrous comfort. It willdo your old heart good to go down to the edge of the pond on the fust ofMay, or thereabouts, accordin' to the season, jist at sun down, and hear'em sing. You'll see the little fellers swell out their cheeks, and roaraway like young suckin' thunders. For the frogs beat all natur there fornoise; they have no notion of it here at all. I've seed Englishmen thatcouldn't sleep all night, for the everlastin' noise these critters made. Their frogs have somethin' else to do here besides singin'. Ain't it asplendid prospect that, havin' these young frogs settled all round youin the same mud-hole, all gathered in a nice little musical familyparty. All fine fun this, till some fine day we Yankee storks will comedown and gobble them all up, and make clear work of it. 

"No, Squire, take my advice now for once; jist go to your colonyminister when he is alone. Don't set down, but stand up as if you was inairnest, and didn't come to gossip, and tell him, 'Turn these ponds intoa lake, ' sais you, my lord minister, give them an inlet and an outlet. Let them be kept pure, and sweet, and wholesome, by a stream, runnin'through. Fish will live there then if you put them in, and they willbreed there, and keep up the stock. At present they die; it ain't bigenough; there ain't room. If he sais he hante time to hear you, and asksyou to put it into writin', do you jist walk over to his table, take uphis lignum vitae ruler into your fist, put your back to the door, andsay 'By the 'tarnal empire, you _shall_ hear me; you don't go out ofthis, till I give you the butt eend of my mind, I can tell you. I am anold bull frog now; the Nova Scotia pond is big enough for me; I'll getdrowned if I get into a bigger one, for I hante got no fins, nothin' butlegs and arms to swim with, and deep water wouldn't suit me, I ain't fitfor it, and I must live and die there, that's my fate as sure as rates. 'If he gets tired, and goes to get up or to move, do you shake the bigruler at him, as fierce as a painter, and say, 'Don't you stir for yourlife; I don't want to lay nothin' _on_ your head, I only want to putsomethin' _in_ it. I am a father and have got youngsters. I am a native, and have got countrymen. Enlarge our sphere, give us a chance in theworld. ' 'Let me out, ' he'll say, 'this minute, Sir, or I'll put you incharge of a policeman. ' 'Let you out is it, ' sais you. 'Oh! you feelbein' pent up, do you? I am glad of it. The tables are turned now, that's what we complain of. You've stood at the door, and kept us in;now I'll keep you in awhile. I want to talk to you, that's more than youever did to us. How do you like bein' shut in? Does it feel good? Doesit make your dander rise?' 'Let me out, ' he'll say agin, 'this moment, Sir, how dare you. ' Oh! you are in a hurry, are you?' sais you. 'You'vekept me in all my life; don't be oneasy if I keep you in five minutes. '

"'Well, what do you want then?' he'll say, kinder peevish; 'what do youwant?' 'I don't want nothin' for myself, ' sais you. 'I've got all Ican get in that pond; and I got that from the Whigs, fellers I've beenabusin' all my life; and I'm glad to make amends by acknowledging thisgood turn they did me; for I am a tory, and no mistake. I don't wantnothin'; but I want to be an _Englishman_. I don't want to be anEnglish _subject_; do you understand that now? If you don't, this is themeanin', that there is no fun in bein' a fag, if you are never to have afag yourself. Give us all fair play. Don't move now, ' sais you, 'for I'mgettin' warm; I'm gettin' spotty on the back, my bristles is up, and Imight hurt you with this ruler; it's a tender pint this, for I've rubbedthe skin off of a sore place; but I'll tell you a gospel truth, and mindwhat I tell you, for nobody else has sense enough, and if they had, theyhante courage enough. If you don't make _Englishmen of us_, the force ofcircumstances will _make Yankees_ of us, as sure as you are born. ' He'llstare at that. He is a clever man, and aint wantin' in gumption. Heis no fool, that's a fact. 'Is it no compliment to you and yourinstitutions this?' sais you. 'Don't it make you feel proud that evenindependence won't tempt us to dissolve the connexion? Ain't it a nobleproof of your good qualities that, instead of agitatin' for Repeal ofthe Union, we want a closer union? But have we no pride too? We would beonworthy of the name of Englishmen, if we hadn't it, and we won't standbeggin' for ever I tell _you_. Here's our hands, give us yourn; let'sbe all Englishmen together. Give us a chance, and if us, young Englishboys, don't astonish you old English, my name ain't Tom Poker, that'sall. ' 'Sit down, ' he'll say, 'Mr. Poker;' there is a great deal in that;sit down; I am interested. '

"The instant he sais that, take your ruler, lay it down on the table, pick up your hat, make a scrape with your hind leg, and say, 'I regretI have detained you so long, Sir. I am most peskily afraid my warmthhas kinder betrayed me into rudeness. I really beg pardon, I do uponmy soul. I feel I have smashed down all decency, I am horrid ashamed ofmyself. ' Well, he won't say you hante rode the high hoss, and done theunhandsum thing, because it wouldn't be true if he did; but he'll say, 'Pray be seated. I can make allowances, Sir, even for intemperate zeal. And this is a very important subject, very indeed. There is a monstrousdeal in what you say, though you have, I must say, rather a peculiar, an unusual, way of puttin' it. ' Don't you stay another minit though, nor say another word, for your life; but bow, beg pardon, hold in yourbreath, that your face may look red, as if you was blushin', and backout, starn fust. Whenever you make an impression on a man, stop; yourreasonin' and details may ruin you. Like a feller who sais a good thing, he'd better shove off, and leave every one larfin' at his wit, than stopand tire them out, till they say what a great screw augur that is. Well, if you find he opens the colonies, and patronises the smart folks, leaveyour sons there if you like, and let 'em work up, and work out of it, ifthey are fit, and time and opportunity offers. But one thing is sartain, _the very openin' of the door will open their minds_, as a matter ofcourse. If he don't do it, and I can tell you before hand he won't--forthey actilly hante got time here, to think of these things--send yourboys here into the great world. Sais you to the young Lawyer, 'Bob, 'sais you, '"aim high. " If you don't get to be Lord Chancellor, I shallnever die in peace. I've set my heart on it. It's within your reach, ifyou are good for anything. Let me see the great seal--let me handle itbefore I die--do, that's a dear; if not, go back to your Colony pond, and sing with your provincial frogs, and I hope to Heaven the fustlong-legged bittern that comes there will make a supper of you. "

"Then sais you to the young parson, 'Arthur, ' sais you 'Natur jistmade you for a clergyman. Now, do you jist make yourself 'Archbishop ofCanterbury. ' My death-bed scene will be an awful one, if I don't see you'the Primate'; for my affections, my hopes, my heart, is fixed on it. I shall be willin' to die then, I shall depart in peace, and leave thisworld happy. And, Arthur, ' sais you, 'they talk and brag here till oneis sick of the sound a'most about "Addison's death-bed. " Good peoplerefer to it as an example, authors as a theatrical scene and hypocritesas a grand illustration for them to turn up the whites of their coldcantin' eyes at. Lord love you, my son, ' sais you, 'let them brag of it;but what would it be to mine; you congratulatin' me on goin' to a betterworld, and me congratulatin' you on bein' "Archbishop. " Then, ' sais you, in a starn voice like a boatsan's trumpet--for if you want things to beremembered, give 'em effect, "Aim high, " Sir, ' sais you. Then like myold father, fetch him a kick on his western eend, that will lift himclean over the table, and say 'that's the way to rise in the world, youyoung sucking parson you. "Aim high, " Sir. '

"Neither of them will ever forget it as long as they live. The hit doesthat; for a kick is a very _striking_ thing, that's a fact. Therehas been _no good scholars since birch rods went out o' school, andsentiment went in_. "

"But you know, " I said, "Mr. Slick, that those high prizes in thelottery of life, can, in the nature of things, be drawn but by fewpeople, and how many blanks are there to one-prize in this world. "

"Well, what's to prevent your boys gettin' those prizes, if colonistswas made Christians of, instead of outlawed, exiled, transported, oncarcumcised heathen Indgean niggers, as they be. If people don't putinto a lottery, how the devil can they get prizes? will you tellme that. Look at the critters here, look at the publicans, taylors, barbers, and porters' sons, how the've rose here, 'in this big lake, 'to be chancellors and archbishops; how did they get them? They 'aimedhigh, ' and besides, all that, like father's story of the gun, by 'aiminghigh, ' though they may miss the mark, they will be sure to hit theupper circles. Oh, Squire, there is nothing like 'aiming high, ' in thisworld. "

"I quite agree with you, Sam, " said Mr. Hopewell. "I never heard youspeak so sensibly before. Nothing can be better for young men than"Aiming high. " Though they may not attain to the highest honours, they may, as you say, reach to a most respectable station. But surely, Squire, you will never so far forget the respect that is due to so highan officer as a Secretary of State, or, indeed, so far forget yourselfas to adopt a course, which from its eccentricity, violence, andimpropriety, must leave the impression that your intellects aredisordered. Surely you will never be tempted to make the experiment?"

"I should think not, indeed, " I said. "I have no desire to become aninmate of a lunatic asylum. "

"Good, " said he; "I am satisfied. I quite agree with Sam, though. Indeed, I go further. I do not think he has advised you to recommendyour boys to 'aim high enough. '"

"Creation! said Mr. Slick, "how much higher do you want provincial frogsto go, than to be 'Chancellor' and 'Primate?'

"I'll tell you, Sam; I'd advise them to 'aim higher' than earthlyhonours. I would advise them to do their duty, in any station of life inwhich it shall please Providence to place them; and instead of strivingafter unattainable objects here, to be unceasing in their endeavours toobtain that which, on certain conditions, is promised to all hereafter. In their worldly pursuits, as men, it is right for them to '_aim high_;'but as Christians, it is also their duty to '_aim higher_. '"

CHAPTER XI. A SWOI-REE. 

Mr. Slick visited me late last night, dressed as if he had been at aparty, but very cross, and, as usual when in that frame of mind, hevented his ill-humour on the English. 

"Where have you been to-night, Mr. Slick?"

"Jist where the English hosses will be, " he replied, "when Old Claycomes here to this country;--no where. I have been on a stair-case, that's where I have been; and a pretty place to see company in, ain'tit? I have been jammed to death in an entry, and what's wus than all, Ihave given one gall a black eye with my elbow, tore another one's frockoff with my buttons, and near about cut a third one's leg in two with myhat. Pretty well for one night's work, ain't it? and for me too, that'sso fond of the dear little critturs, I wouldn't hurt a hair of theirhead, if I could help it, to save my soul alive. What a spot o' work!

"What the plague do people mean here by askin' a mob to their house, and invitin' twice as many as can get into it? If they think it'scomplimental, they are infarnally mistaken, that's all: it's an insultand nothin' else, makin' a fool of a body that way. Heavens and airth! Iam wringing wet! I'm ready to faint! Where's the key of your cellaret? Iwant some brandy and water. I'm dead; bury me quick, for I won't benice directly. Oh dear! how that lean gall hurt me! How horrid sharp herbones are!

"I wish to goodness you'd go to a Swoi-ree oncet, Squire, jist oncet--agrand let off, one that's upper crust and rael jam. It's worth seein'oncet jist as a show, I tell _you_, for you have no more notion of itthan a child. All Halifax, if it was swept up clean and shook out into aroom, wouldn't make one swoi-ree. I have been to three to night, and allon 'em was mobs--regular mobs. The English are horrid fond of mobs, andI wonder at it too; for of all the cowardly, miserable, scarry mobs, that ever was seen in this blessed world, the English is the wust. Two dragoons will clear a whole street as quick as wink, any time. Theinstant they see 'em, they jist run like a flock of sheep afore a coupleof bull dogs, and slope off properly skeered. Lawful heart, I wishthey'd send for a dragoon, all booted, and spurred, and mounted, and lethim gallop into a swoi-ree, and charge the mob there. He'd clear 'em out_I_ know, double quick: he'd chase one quarter of 'em down stairs headover heels, and another quarter would jump out o' the winders, and breaktheir confounded necks to save their lives, and then the half that'sleft, would he jist about half too many for comfort. 

"My first party to-night wus a conversation one; that is for them that_could_ talk; as for me I couldn't talk a bit, and all I could thinkwas, 'how infarnal hot it is! I wish I could get in!' or, 'oh dear, ifI could only get out!' It was a scientific party, a mob o' men. Well, every body expected somebody would be squashed to death, and so ladieswent, for they always go to executions. They've got a kinder nateraltaste for the horrors, have women. They like to see people hanged ortrod to death, when they can get a chance. It _was_ a conversationwarn't it? that's all. I couldn't understand a word I heard. Trap shaleGreywachy; a petrified snail, the most important discovery of moderntimes. Bank governor's machine weighs sovereigns, light ones go to theright, and heavy ones to the left. 

"'Stop, ' says I, 'if you mean the sovereign people here, there are noneon 'em light. Right and left is both monstrous heavy; all over weight, every one on 'em. I'm squeezed to death. '

"'Very good, Mr. Slick. Let me introduce you to ----, ' they are whiptoff in the current, and I don't see 'em again no more. 'A beautiful shewof flowers, Madam, at the garden: they are all in full blow now. Therhododendron--had a tooth pulled when she was asleep. ' 'Please to let mepass, Sir. ' 'With all my heart, Miss, if I could; but I can't move; if Icould I would down on the carpet, and you should walk over me. Take careof your feet, Miss, I am off of mine. Lord bless me! what's this? why asI am a livin' sinner, it's half her frock hitched on to my coat button. Now I know what that scream meant. '

"'How do you do, Mr. Slick? When did you come?' 'Why I came--' heis turned round, and shoved out o' hearin. ' 'Xanthian marbles at theBritish Museum are quite wonderful; got into his throat, the doctorturned him upside down, stood him on his head, and out it came--his owntunnel was too small. ' 'Oh, Sir, you are cuttin' me. ' 'Me, Miss! Wherehad I the pleasure of seein' you before, I never cut a lady in my life, could'nt do so rude a thing. Havn't the honour to recollect you. ' 'Oh, Sir, take it away, it cuts me. ' Poor thing, she is distracted, I don'twonder. She's drove crazy, though I think she must have been mad to comehere at all. 'Your hat, Sir. ' 'Oh, that cussed French hat is it? Well, the rim is as stiff and as sharp as a cleaver, that's a fact, I don'twonder it cut you. ' 'Eddis's pictur--capital painting, fell out of thebarge, and was drowned. ' 'Having been beat on the shillin' duty; theywill attach him on the fourpence, and thimble rigg him out of that. ''They say Sugden is in town, hung in a bad light, at the TempleChurch. '----'Who is that?' 'Lady Fobus; paired off for the Session;Brodie operated. '----Lady Francis; got the Life Guards; there will bea division to-night. '----That's Sam Slick; I'll introduce you;made a capital speech in the House of Lords, in answer toBrougham--Lobelia--voted for the bill--The Duchess is very fondof----Irish Arms--'

"Oh! now I'm in the entry. How tired I am! It feels shockin' cold here, too, arter comin' out o' that hot room. Guess I'll go to the grandmusical party. Come, this will do; this is Christian-like, there is roomhere; but the singin' is in next room, I will go and hear them. Oh! herethey are agin; it's a proper mob this. Cuss, these English, they can'tlive out of mobs. Prince Albert is there in that room; I must go and seehim. He is popular; he is a renderin' of himself very agreeable to theEnglish, is Prince: he mixes with them as much as he can; and shewshis sense in that. Church steeples are very pretty things: that one toAntwerp is splendiriferous; it's everlastin' high, it most breaks yourneck layin' back your head to look at it; bend backward like a hoop, andstare at it once with all your eyes, and you can't look up agin, you aresatisfied. It tante no use for a Prince to carry a head so high as that, Albert knows this; he don't want to be called the highest steeple, cause all the world knows he is about the top loftiest; but he want's todescend to the world we live in. 

"With a Queen all men love, and a Prince all men like, royalty has aroot in the heart here. Pity, too, for the English don't desarve to havea Queen; and such a Queen as they have got too, hang me if they do. Theyain't men, they hante the feelin's or pride o' men in 'em; they ain'twhat they used to be, the nasty, dirty, mean-spirited, sneakin' skunks, for if they had a heart as big as a pea--and that ain't any great size, nother--cuss 'em, when any feller pinted a finger at her to hurt her, oreven frighten her, they'd string him right up on the spot, to the lamppost. Lynch him like a dog that steals sheep right off the reel, andsave mad-doctors, skary judges, and Chartist papers all the trouble offindin' excuses. And, if that didn't do, Chinese like, they'd take thewhole crowd present and sarve _them_ out. They'd be sure to catch theright one then. I wouldn't shed blood, because that's horrid; it shocksall Christian people, philosophisin' legislators, sentimental ladies, and spooney gentlemen. It's horrid barbarous that, is sheddin' blood; Iwouldn't do that, I'd jist hang him. A strong cord tied tight round hisneck would keep that precious mixtur, traitor's blood, all in as closeas if his mouth was corked, wired, and white-leaded, like a champagnebottle. 

"Oh dear! these are the fellers that come out a travellin' among us, and sayin' the difference atween you and us is 'the absence of loyalty. 'I've heard tell a great deal of that loyalty, but I've seen preciouslittle of it, since I've been here, that's a fact. I've always told youthese folks ain't what they used to be, and I see more and more, on'em every day. Yes, the English are like their hosses, they are so finebred, there is nothin' left of 'em now but the hide, hair, and shoes. 

"So Prince Albert is there in that room; I must get in there and seehim, for I have never sot eyes on him since I've been here, so heregoes. Onder, below there, look out for your corns, hawl your feet in, like turtles, for I am a comin'. Take care o' your ribs, my old 'coons, for my elbows are crooked. Who wants to grow? I'll squeeze you out as arollin'-pin does dough, and make you ten inches taller. I'll make goodfigures of you, my fat boys and galls, I know. Look out for scaldin'sthere. Here I am: it's me, Sam Slick, make way, or I'll walk right overyou, and cronch you like lobsters. 'Cheap talkin', or rather thinkin', sais I; for in course I couldn't bawl that out in company here; theydon't understand fun, and would think it rude, and ongenteel. I have tobe shockin' cautious what I say here, for fear I might lower our greatnation in the eyes of foreigners. I have to look big and talk big thewhole blessed time, and I am tired of it. It ain't nateral to me; and, besides braggin' and repudiatin' at the same time, is most as bad ascantin' and swearin'. It kinder chokes me. I thought it all though, andsaid it all to myself. 'And, ' sais I, 'take your time, Sam; you can't doit, no how, you can fix-it. You must wait your time, like other folks. Your legs is tied, and your arms is tied down by the crowd, and youcan't move an inch beyond your nose. The only way is, watch your chance, wait till you can get your hands up, then turn the fust two personsthat's next to you right round, and slip between them like a turn stilein the park, and work your passage that way. Which is the Prince? That'shim with the hair carefully divided, him with the moustaches. I've seedhim; a plaguy handsum man he is, too. Let me out now. I'm stifled, I'mchoked. My jaws stick together, I can't open 'em no more; and my windwon't hold out another minute. 

"I have it now, I've got an idea. See if I don't put the leake into'em. Won't I _do_ them, that's all? Clear the way there, the Prince is acomin', _and_ so is the Duke. And a way is opened: waves o' the sea rollhack at these words, and I walks right out, as large as life, and thefust Egyptian that follers is drowned, for the water has closedover him. Sarves him right, too, what business had he to grasp mylife-preserver without leave. I have enough to do to get along by my ownwit, without carry in' double. 

"'Where is the Prince? Didn't they say he was a comin'? Who was thatwent out? He don't look like the Prince; he ain't half so handsum, thatfeller, he looks, like a Yankee. ' 'Why, that was Sam Slick. ' 'Capital, that! What a droll feller he is; he is always so ready! He desarvescredit for that trick. ' Guess I do; but let old Connecticut alone;us Slickville boys always find a way to dodge in or out embargo or noembargo, blockade or no blockade, we larnt that last war. 

"Here I am in the street agin; the air feels handsum. I have anotherinvitation to-night, shall I go? Guess I will. All the world is at thesetwo last places, I reckin there will be breathin' room at the next; andI want an ice cream to cool my coppers, shockin' bad. --Creation! It iswus than ever; this party beats t'other ones all holler. They ain't notouch to it. I'll jist go and make a scrape to old uncle and aunty, andthen cut stick; for I hante strength to swiggle my way through anothermob. 

"'You had better get in fust, though, hadn't you, Sam? for here youare agin wracked, by gosh, drove right slap ashore atween them two fatwomen, and fairly wedged in and bilged. You can't get through, and can'tget out, if you was to die for it. ' 'Can't I though? I'll try; for Inever give in, till I can't help it. So here's at it. Heave off, putall steam on, and back out, starn fust, and then swing round into thestream. That's the ticket, Sam. ' It's done; but my elbow has took thatlady that's two steps furder down on the stairs, jist in the eye, andknocked in her dead light. How she cries! how I apologize, don't I?And the more I beg pardon, the wus she carries on. But it's no go; if Istay, I must fust fight somebody, and then marry _her_; for I've spiledher beauty, and that's the rule here, they tell me. '

"So I sets studen sail booms, and cracks on all sail, and steers forhome, and here I am once more; at least what's left of me, and thatain't much more nor my shader. Oh dear! I'm tired, shockin' tired, almost dead, and awful thirsty; for Heaven's sake, give me some lignumvitae, for I am so dry, I'll blow away in dust. 

"This is a Swoi-ree, Squire, this is London society; this is rationalenjoyment, this is a meeting of friends, who are so infarnal friendlythey are jammed together so they can't leave each other. Inseparablefriends; you must choke 'em off, or you can't part 'em. Well, I ain'tjist so thick and intimate with none o' them in this country as all thatcomes to nother. I won't lay down my life for none on 'em; I don't seeno occasion for it, _do you_?

"I'll dine with you, John Bull, if you axe me; and I ain't nothin' aboveparticular to do, and the cab hire don't cost more nor the price of adinner; but hang me if ever I go to a Swoi-ree agin. I've had enough ofthat, to last me _my_ life, I know. A dinner I hante no objection to, though that ain't quite so bright as a pewter button nother, when youdon't know you're right and left, hand man. And an evenin' party, Iwouldn't take my oath I wouldn't go to, though I don't know hardly whatto talk about, except America; and I've bragged so much about that, I'mtired of the subject. But a _Swoi-ree is the devil, that's a fact_. "

CHAPTER XII. TATTERSALL'S OR, THE ELDER AND THE GRAVE DIGGER. 

"Squire, " said Mr. Slick, "it ain't rainin' to-day; suppose you comealong with me to Tattersall's. I have been studyin' that place aconsiderable sum to see whether it is a safe shop to trade in or no. ButI'm dubersome; I don't like the cut of the sportin' folks here. If I cansee both eends of the rope, and only one man has hold of one eend, andme of the tother, why I know what I am about; but if I can only see myown eend, I don't know who I am a pullin' agin. I intend to take a riseout o' some o' the knowin' ones here, that will make 'em scratch theirheads, and stare, I know. But here we are. Cut round this corner, intothis Lane. Here it is; this is it to the right. "

We entered a sort of coach-yard, which was filled with a motley andmixed crowd of people. I was greatly disappointed in Tattersall's. Indeed, few things in London have answered my expectations. They haveeither exceeded or fallen short of the description I had heard of them. I was prepared, both from what I was told by Mr. Slick, and heard, fromothers, to find that there were but very few gentlemen-like looking menthere; and that by far the greater number neither were, nor affected tobe, any thing but "knowing ones. " I was led to believe that therewould be a plentiful use of the terms _of art_, a variety of provincialaccent, and that the conversation of the jockeys and grooms would beliberally garnished with appropriate slang. 

The gentry portion of the throng, with some few exceptions, it was said, wore a dissipated look, and had that peculiar appearance of incipientdisease, that indicates a life of late hours, of excitement, andbodily exhaustion. Lower down in the scale of life, I was informed, intemperance had left its indelible marks. And that still further down, were to be found the worthless lees of this foul and polluted stream ofsporting gentlemen, spendthrifts, gamblers, bankrupts, sots, sharpersand jockeys. 

This was by no means the case. It was just what a man might haveexpected to have found a great sporting exchange and auction mart, ofhorses and carriages, to have been, in a great city like London, had hebeen merely told that such was the object of the place, and then leftto imagine the scene. It was, as I have before said, a mixed and motleycrowd; and must necessarily be so, where agents attend to bid for theirprincipals, where servants are in waiting upon their masters, and aboveall, where the ingress is open to every one. 

It is, however, unquestionably the resort of gentlemen. In a great andrich country like this, there must, unavoidably, be a Tattersall's; andthe wonder is, not that it is not better, but that it is not infinitelyworse. Lake all striking pictures, it had strong lights and shades. Those who have suffered, are apt to retaliate; and a man who has beenduped, too often thinks he has a right to make reprisals. Tattersall's, therefore, is not without its privateers. Many persons of rank andcharacter patronize sporting, from a patriotic but mistaken notion, that it is to the turf alone the excellence of the English horse isattributable. 

One person of this description, whom I saw there for a short time, I hadthe pleasure of knowing before; and from him I learned many interestinganecdotes of individuals whom he pointed out as having been once wellknown about town, but whose attachment to gambling had effected theirruin. Personal stories of this kind are, however, not within the scopeof this work. 

As soon as we entered, Mr. Slick called my attention to the carriageswhich were exhibited for sale, to their elegant shape and "beautifulfixins, " as he termed it; but ridiculed, in no measured terms, theirenormous weight. "It is no wonder, " said he, "they have to get freshhosses here every ten miles, and travellin' costs so much, when thecarriage alone is enough to kill beasts. What would Old Bull say, ifI was to tell him of one pair of hosses carryin' three or four people, forty or fifty miles a-day, day in and day out, hand runnin' for afortnight? Why, he'd either be too civil to tell me it was a lie, orbein' afeerd I'd jump down his throat if he did, he'd sing dumb, and letme see by his looks, he thought so, though. 

"I intend to take the consait out of these chaps, and that's a fact. IfI don't put the leak into 'em afore I've done with them, my name ain'tSam Slick, that's a fact. I'm studyin' the ins and the outs of thisplace, so as to know what I am about, afore I take hold; for I feelkinder skittish about my men. Gentlemen are the lowest, lyinest, bullyinest, blackguards there is, when they choose to be; 'specially ifthey have rank as well as money. A thoroughbred cheat, of good blood, is a clipper, that's a fact. They ain't right up-and-down, like a cow'stail, in their dealin's; and they've got accomplices, fellers thatwill lie for 'em like any thing, for the honour of their company; andbettin', onder such circumstances, ain't safe. 

"But, I'll tell you what is, if you have got a hoss that can do it, andno mistake: back him, hoss agin hoss, or what's safer still, hoss agintime, and you can't be tricked. Now, I'll send for Old Clay, to come inCunard's steamer, and cuss 'em they ought to bring over the old hoss andhis fixins, free, for it was me first started that line. The way old Mr. Glenelg stared, when I told him it was thirty-six miles shorter to gofrom Bristol to New York by the way of Halifax, than to go direct warn'tslow. It stopt steam for that hitch, that's a fact, for he thort I wasmad. He sent it down to the Admiralty to get it ciphered right, and ittook them old seagulls, the Admirals a month to find it out. 

"And when they did, what did they say? Why, cuss 'em, says they, 'anyfool knows that. ' Says I, 'If that's the case you are jist the boys thenthat ought to have found it out right off at oncet. '

"Yes, Old Clay ought to go free, but he won't; and guess I am able topay freight for him, and no thanks to nobody. Now, I'll tell you what, English trottin' is about a mile in two minutes and forty-seven seconds, and that don't happen oftener than oncet in fifty years, if it was everdone at all, for the English brag so there is no telling right. Old Clay_can_ do his mile in two minutes and thirty-eight seconds. He _has_ donethat, and I guess he _could_ do more. I have got a car, that is as lightas whalebone, and I'll bet to do it with wheels and drive myself. I'llgo in up to the handle, on Old Clay. I have a hundred thousand dollarsof hard cash made in the colonies, I'll go half of it on the old hoss, hang me if I don't, and I'll make him as well knowd to England as he isto Nova Scotia. 

"I'll allow him to be beat at fust, so as to lead 'em on, and Clay isas cunnin' as a coon too, if he don't get the word g'lang (go along)and the Indgian skelpin' yell with it, he knows I ain't in airnest, andhe'll allow me to beat him and bully him like nothin'. He'll pretend todo his best, and sputter away like a hen scratchin' gravel, but he won'tgo one mossel faster, for he knows I never lick a free hoss. 

"Won't it be beautiful? How they'll all larf and crow, when they see mea thrashin' away at the hoss, and then him goin' slower, the faster Ithrash, and me a threatenin' to shoot the brute, and a talkin' at thetip eend of my tongue like a ravin' distracted bed bug, and offerin'to back him agin, if they dare, and planken down the pewter all round, takin' every one up that will go the figur', till I raise the bets tothe tune of fifty thousand dollars. When I get that far, they maystop their larfin' till next time, I guess. That's the turn of thefever--that's the crisis--that's my time to larf then. 

"I'll mount the car then, take the bits of list up, put 'em into rightshape, talk a little Connecticut Yankee to the old hoss, to set hisebenezer up, and make him rise inwardly, and then give the yell, " (whichhe uttered in his excitement in earnest; and a most diabolical one itwas. It pierced me through and through, and curdled my very blood, itwas the death shout of a savage. ) "G'lang you skunk, and turn out yourtoes pretty, " said he, and he again repeated this long protracted, shrill, infernal yell, a second time. 

Every eye was instantly turned upon us. Even Tattersall suspended his"he is five years old--a good hack--and is to be sold, " to give time forthe general exclamation of surprise. "Who the devil is that? Is hemad? Where did _he_ come from? Does any body know him? He is a devilishkeen-lookin' fellow that; what an eye he has! He looks like a Yankee, that fellow. "

"He's been here, your honour, several days, examines every thing andsays nothing; looks like a knowing one, your honour. He handles a hossas if he'd seen one afore to-day, Sir. "

"Who is that gentleman with him?"

"Don't know, your honour, never saw him before; he looks like afurriner, too. "

"Come, Mr. Slick, " said I, "we are attracting too much attention here, let us go. "

"Cuss 'em, " said he, "I'll attract more attention afore I've done yet, when Old Clay comes, and then I'll tell 'em who I am--Sam Slick, from Slickville, Onion County, State of Connecticut, United States ofAmerica. But I do suppose we had as good make tracks, for I don't wantfolks to know me yet. I'm plaguy sorry I let put that countersign of OldClay too, but they won't onderstand it. Critters like the English, thatknow everything have generally weak eyes, from studyin' so hard. 

"Did you take notice of that critter I was a handlin' of, Squire? thatone that's all drawed up in the middle like a devil's darnin' needle;her hair a standin' upon eend as if she was amazed at herself, anda look out of her eye, as if she thort the dogs would find the steakkinder tough, when they got her for dinner. Well, that's a great marethat 'are, and there ain't nothin' onder the sun the matter of her, except the groom has stole her oats, forgot to give her water, and lether make a supper sometimes off of her nasty, mouldy, filthy beddin'. Ihante see'd a hoss here equal to her a'most--short back, beautiful raketo the shoulder, great depth of chest, elegant quarter, great stifle, amazin' strong arm, monstrous nice nostrils, eyes like a weasel, alloutside, game ears, first chop bone and fine flat leg, with no gum on nopart of it. She's a sneezer that; but she'll be knocked down for twentyor thirty pound, because she looks as if she was used up. 

"I intended to a had that mare, for I'd a made her worth twelve hundreddollars. It was a dreadful pity, I let go, that time, for I actillyforgot where I was. I'll know better next hitch, for boughten wit isthe best in a general way. Yes, I'm peskily sorry about that mare. Well, swappin' I've studied, but I doubt if it's as much the fashion here aswith us; and besides, swappin' where you don't know the county and itstricks, (for every county has its own tricks, different from others), isdangersome too. I've seen swaps where both sides got took in. Did ever Itell you the story of the "Elder and the grave-digger?"

"Never, " I replied; "but here we are at our lodgings. Come in, and tellit to me. "

"Well, " said he, "I must have a glass of mint julip fust, to wash downthat ere disappointment about the mare. It was a dreadful go that. Ijist lost a thousand dollars by it, as slick as grease. But it's anexcitin' thing is a trottin' race, too. When you mount, hear the word'Start!' and shout out 'G'lang!' and give the pass word. "

Good heavens! what a yell he perpetrated again. I put both hands to myears, to exclude the reverberations of it from the walls. 

"Don't be skeered, Squire; don't be skeered. We are alone now: there isno mare to lose. Ain't it pretty? It makes me feel all dandery and onwires like. "

"But the grave-digger?" said I. 

"Well, " says he, "the year afore I knowed you, I was a-goin' in thefall, down to Clare, about sixty miles below Annapolis, to collect somedebts due to me there from the French. And as I was a-joggin' on alongthe road, who should I overtake but Elder Stephen Grab, of Beechmeadows, a mounted on a considerable of a clever-lookin' black mare. The Elderwas a pious man; at least he looked like one, and spoke like one too. His face was as long as the moral law, and p'rhaps an inch longer, andas smooth as a hone; and his voice was so soft and sweet, and his tonguemoved so ily on its hinges, you'd a thought you might a trusted him withontold gold, if you didn't care whether you ever got it agin or no. Hehad a bran new hat on, with a brim that was none of the smallest, tokeep the sun from makin' his inner man wink, and his go-to-meetin'clothes on, and a pair of silver mounted spurs, and a beautiful whitecravat, tied behind, so as to have no bows to it, and look meek. Ifthere was a good man on airth, you'd a said it was him. And he seemed tofeel it, and know it too, for there was a kind of look o' triumph abouthim, as if he had conquered the Evil One, and was considerable wellsatisfied with himself. 

"'H'are you, ' sais I, 'Elder, to-day? Which way are you from?"

"'From the General Christian Assembly, sais he, 'to Goose Creek. We hada "_most refreshin' time on't_. " There was a great "_outpourin' of thespirit_. "'

"'Well, that's awful, ' says I, 'too. The magistrates ought to see tothat; it ain't right, when folks assemble that way to worship, to bea-sellin' of rum; and gin, and brandy, and spirits, is it?'

"'I don't mean that, ' sais he, 'although, p'rhaps, there was too much ofthat wicked traffic too, I mean the preachin'. It was very peeowerful;there was "_many sinners saved_. "

"'I guess there was plenty of room for it, ' sais I, 'onless thatneighbourhood has much improved since I knowed it last. '

"'It's a sweet thing, ' sais he. 'Have you ever "_made profession_, " Mr. Slick?'

"'Come, ' sais I to myself, 'this is cuttin' it rather too fat. I mustput a stop to this. This ain't a subject for conversation with such acheatin', cantin', hippocrytical skunk as this is. Yes, ' sais I, 'longago. My profession is that of a clockmaker, and I make no pretensionto nothin' else. But come, let's water our hosses here and liquorourselves. '

"And we dismounted, and gave 'em a drop to wet their mouths. 

"'Now, ' sais I, a-takin' out of a pocket-pistol that I generallytravelled with, 'I think I'll take a drop of grog;' and arter helpin'myself, I gives the silver cover of the flask a dip in the brook, (fora clean rinse is better than a dirty wipe, any time), and sais I, 'Willyou have a little of the "_outpourin' of the spirit?_" What do you say, Elder?'

"'Thank you, ' sais he, 'friend Slick. I never touch liquor, it's aginour rules. '

"And he stooped down and filled it with water, and took a mouthful, andthen makin' a face like a frog afore he goes to sing, and swellin' hischeeks out like a Scotch bagpiper, he spit it all out. Sais he, 'Thatis so warm, it makes me sick; and as I ain't otherwise well, from thecelestial exhaustion of a protracted meetin', I believe I will take alittle drop, as medicine. '

"Confound him! if he'd a said he'd only leave a little drop, it would abeen more like the thing; for he e'en a'most emptied the whole into thecup, and drank it off clean, without winkin'. 

"'It's a "_very refreshin' time_, "' sais I, 'ain't' it?' But he didn'tmake no answer. Sais I, 'that's a likely beast of yourn, Elder, ' and Iopened her mouth, and took a look at her, and no easy matter nother, Itell you, for she held on like a bear trap, with her jaws. "'She won'tsuit you, ' sais he, "with a smile, 'Mr. Slick. '

"'I guess not, ' sais I. 

"'But she'll jist suit the French, ' sais he. 

"'It's lucky she don't speak French then, ' sais I, 'or they'd soonfind her tongue was too big for her mouth. That critter will never seefive-and-twenty, and I'm a thinkin', she's thirty year old, if she is aday. '

"'I was a thinkin', said he, with a sly look out o' the corner of hiseye, as if her age warn't no secret to him. 'I was a thinkin' it's timeto put her off, and she'll jist suit the French. They hante much forhosses to do, in a giniral way, but to ride about; and you won't saynothin' about her age, will you? it might endamnify a sale. '

"'Not I, ' sais I, 'I skin my own foxes, and let other folks skintheir'n. I have enough to do to mind my own business, withoutinterferin' with other people's. '

"'She'll jist suit the French, ' sais he; 'they don't know nothin' abouthosses, or any thing else. They are a simple people, and always will be, for their priests keep 'em in ignorance. It's an awful thing to see themkept in the outer porch of darkness that way, ain't it?'

"'I guess you'll put a new pane o' glass in their porch, ' sais I, 'andhelp some o' them to see better; for whoever gets that mare, will havehis eyes opened, sooner nor he bargains for, I know. '

"Sais he, 'she ain't a bad mare; and if she could eat bay, might do agood deal of work yet, ' and he gave a kinder chuckle laugh at his ownjoke, that sounded like the rattles in his throat, it was so dismal anddeep, for he was one o' them kind of fellers that's too good to larf, was Steve. 

"Well, the horn o' grog he took, began to onloosen his tongue; and I gotout of him, that she come near dyin' the winter afore, her teeth wasso bad, and that he had kept her all summer in a dyke pasture up to herfetlocks in white clover, and ginn' her ground oats, and Indgian meal, and nothin' to do all summer; and in the fore part of the fall, biledpotatoes, and he'd got her as fat as a seal, and her skin as slick as anotter's. She fairly shined agin, in the sun. 

"'She'll jist suit the French', said he, 'they are a simple people anddon't know nothin', and if they don't like the mare, they must blametheir priests for not teachin' 'em better. I shall keep within thestrict line of truth, as becomes a Christian man. I scorn to take a manin. '

"Well, we chatted away arter this fashion, he a openin' of himself andme a walk in' into him; and we jogged along till we came to CharlesTarrio's to Montagon, and there was the matter of a thousand Frenchpeople gathered there, a chatterin', and laughin', and jawin', andquarrellin', and racin', and wrastlin', and all a givin' tongue, like apack of village dogs, when an Indgian comes to town. It was town meetin'day. 

"Well, there was a critter there, called by nickname, 'Goodish Greevoy, 'a mounted on a white pony, one o' the scariest little screamers, youever see since you was born. He was a tryin' to get up a race, wasGoodish, and banterin' every one that had a hoss to run with him. 

"His face was a fortin' to a painter. His forehead was high and narrer, shewin' only a long strip o' tawny skin, in a line with his nose, therest bein' covered with hair, as black as ink, and as iley as a seal'smane. His brows was thick, bushy and overhangin', like young brush-woodon a cliff, and onderneath, was two black peerin' little eyes, that kepta-movin' about, keen, good-natured, and roguish, but sot far into hisskull, and looked like the eyes of a fox peepin' out of his den, whenhe warn't to home to company hisself. His nose was high, sharp, andcrooked, like the back of a reapin' hook, and gave a plaguy sightof character to his face, while his thinnish lips, that closed on astraight line, curlin' up at one eend, and down at the other, shewed, ifhis dander was raised, he could be a jumpin', tarin', rampagenous devilif he chose. The pint of his chin projected and turned up gently, as ifit expected, when Goodish lost his teeth, to rise in the world in ranknext to the nose. When good natur' sat on the box, and drove, it warn'ta bad face; when Old Nick was coachman, I guess it would be as well togive Master Frenchman the road. 

"He had a red cap on his head, his beard hadn't been cut since lastsheep shearin', and he looked as hairy as a tarrier; his shirt collar, 'which was of yaller flannel, fell on his shoulders loose, and a blackhankercher was tied round his neck, slack like a sailor's. He wore around jacket and loose trowsers of homespun with no waistcoat, and histrowsers was held up by a gallus of leather on one side, and of old cordon the other. Either Goodish had growed since his clothes was made, orhis jacket and trowsers warn't on speakin' tarms, for they didn't meetby three or four inches, and the shirt shewed atween them like a yallermilitia sash round him. His feet was covered with moccasins of ontannedmoose hide, and one heel was sot off with an old spur and looked slyand wicked. He was a sneezer that, and when he flourished his great longwithe of a whip stick, that looked like a fishin' rod, over his head, and yelled like all possessed, he was a caution, that's a fact. 

"A knowin' lookin' little hoss, it was too, that he was mounted on. Itstail was cut close off to the stump, which squared up his rump, and madehim look awful strong in the hind quarters. His mane was "hogged" whichfulled out the swell and crest of the neck, and his ears beingcropped, the critter had a game look about him. There was a proper goodonderstandin' between him and his rider: they looked as if they hadgrowed together, and made one critter--half hoss, half man with a touchof the devil. 

"Goodish was all up on eend by what he drank, and dashed in and out ofthe crowd arter a fashion, that was quite cautionary, callin' out, 'Herecomes "the grave-digger. " Don't be skeered, if any of you get killed, here is the hoss that will dig his grave for nothin'. Who'll run a lickof a quarter of a mile, for a pint of rum. Will you run?' said he, aspunkin' up to the Elder, 'come, let's run, and whoever wins, shall gothe treat. '

"The Elder smiled as sweet as sugar candy, but backed out; he was tooold, he said, now to run. 

"'Will you swap hosses, old broad cloth then?' said the other, 'becauseif you will, here's at you. '

"Steve took a squint at pony, to see whether that cat would jump or no, but the cropt ears, the stump of a tail, the rakish look of the horse, didn't jist altogether convene to the taste or the sanctified habits ofthe preacher. The word no, hung on his lips, like a wormy apple, jistready to drop the fust shake; but before it let go, the great strength, the spryness, and the oncommon obedience of pony to the bit, seemed tokinder balance the objections; while the sartan and ontimely eend thathung over his own mare, during the comin' winter, death by starvation, turned the scale. 

"'Well, ' said he, slowly, 'if we like each other's beasts, friend, andcan agree as to the boot, I don't know as I wouldn't trade; for I don'tcare to raise colts, havin' plenty of hoss stock on hand, and perhapsyou do. '

"'How old is your hoss?' said the Frenchman. 

"'I didn't raise it, ' sais Steve, 'Ned Wheelock, I believe, brought herto our parts. '

"'How old do you take her to be?'

"'Poor critter, she'd tell you herself, if she could, ' said he, 'forshe knows best, but she can't speak; and I didn't see her, when she wasfoalded. '

"'How old do you think?'

"'Age, ' sais Steve, 'depens on use, not on years. A hoss at five, if illused, is old; a hoss at eight, if well used is young. '

"'Sacry footry!' sais Goodish, 'why don't you speak out like a man? Lieor no lie, how old is she?'

"'Well, I don't like to say, ' sais Steve, 'I know she is eight forsartain, and it may be she's nine. If I was to say eight, and it turnedout nine, you might be thinkin' hard of me. I didn't raise it. You cansee what condition she is in; old hosses ain't commonly so fat as that, at least I never, see one that was. '

"A long banter then growed out of the 'boot money. ' The Elder, asked7 pounds 10s. Goodish swore he wouldn't give that for him and his hosstogether; that if they were both put up to auction that blessed minute, they wouldn't bring it. The Elder hung on to it, as long as there wasany chance of the boot, and then fort the ground like a man, only givin'an inch or so at a time, till he drawed up and made a dead stand, on onepound. 

"Goodish seemed willing to come to tarms too; but like a prudent man, resolved to take a look at the old mare's mouth, and make some kind ofa guess at her age; but the critter knowed how to keep her own secrets, and it was ever so long, afore he forced her jaws open, and when he did, he came plaguy near losin' of a finger, for his curiosity; and as hehopped and danced about with pain, he let fly such a string of oaths, and sacry-cussed the Elder and his mare, in such an all-fired passion, that Steve put both his hands up to his ears, and said, 'Oh, my dearfriend, don't swear, don't swear; it's very wicked. I'll take your pony, I'll ask no boot, if you will only promise not to swear. You shall havethe mare as she stands. I'll give up and swap even; and there shall beno after claps, nor ruin bargains, nor recantin', nor nother, only don'tswear. '

"Well, the trade was made, the saddles and bridles was shifted, andboth parties mounted their new hosses. 'Mr. Slick, ' sais Steve, ' who wasafraid he would lose the pony, if he staid any longer, 'Mr. Slick, 'sais he, 'the least said, is the soonest mended, let's be a movin', thisscene of noise and riot is shockin' to a religious man, ain't it?' andhe let go a groan, as long as the embargo a'most. 

"Well, we had no sooner turned to go, than the French people sot up acheer that made all ring again; and they sung out, "La Fossy Your, " "LaFossy Your, " and shouted it agin and agin ever so loud. 

"'What's that?' sais Steve. 

"Well, I didn't know, for I never heerd the word afore; but it don't doto say you don't know, it lowers you in the eyes of other folks. If youdon't know What another man knows he is shocked at your ignorance. Butif he don't know what you do, he can find an excuse in a minute. Neversay you don't know. 

"'So, ' sais I, 'they jabber so everlastin' fast, it ain't no easy matterto say what they mean; but it sounds like "good bye, " you'd betterturn round and make 'em a bow, for they are very polite people, is theFrench. '

"So Steve turns and takes off his hat, and makes them a low bow, andthey larfs wus than ever, and calls out again, "La Fossy Your, " "LaFossy Your. " He was kinder ryled, was the Elder. His honey had begunto farment, and smell vinegery. 'May be, next Christmas, ' sais he, 'youwon't larf so loud, when you find the mare is dead. Goodish and the oldmare are jist alike, they are all tongue them critters. I rather thinkit's me, ' sais he, 'has the right to larf, for I've got the best of thisbargain, and no mistake. This is as smart a little hoss as ever I see. I know where I can put him off to great advantage. I shall make a goodday's work of this. It is about as good a hoss trade as I ever made. TheFrench don't know nothin' about hosses; they are a simple people, theirpriests keep 'em in ignorance on purpose, and they don't know nothin'. '

"He cracked and bragged considerable, and as we progressed we cameto Montagon Bridge. The moment pony sot foot on it, he stopped short, pricked up the latter eends of his ears, snorted, squeeled and refusedto budge an inch. The Elder got mad. He first coaxed and patted, andsoft sawdered him, and then whipt and spurred, and thrashed him like anything. Pony got mad too, for hosses has tempers as well as Elders; so heturned to, and kicked right straight up on eend, like Old Scratch, andkept on without stoppin' till he sent the Elder right slap over hishead slantendicularly, on the broad of his back into the river, and hefloated down thro' the bridge and scrambled out at t'other side. 

"Creation! how he looked. He was so mad, he was ready to bile over; andas it was he smoked in the sun, like a tea-kettle. His clothes stuckclose down to him, as a cat's fur does to her skin, when she's out inthe rain, and every step he took his boots went squish, squash, like anold woman churnin' butter; and his wet trowsers chafed with a noise likea wet flappin' sail. He was a shew, and when he got up to his hoss, andheld on to his mane, and first lifted up one leg and then the other tolet the water run out of his boots. I couldn't hold in no longer, butlaid back and larfed till I thought on my soul I'd fall off into theriver too. 

"'Elder, ' says I, 'I thought when a man jined your sect, 'he could never"_fall off agin_, " but I see you ain't no safer than other folks arterall. '

"'Come, ' says he, 'let me be, that's a good soul, it's bad enough, without being larfed at, that's a fact. I can't account for this caper, no how. '

"'It's very strange too, ain't it! What on airth got into the hoss tomake him act so ugly. Can you tell, Mr. Slick?'

"'Why, ' sais I, 'he don't know English yet, that's all. He waited forthem beautiful French oaths that Goodish used. Stop the fust Frenchmanyou meet and give him a shillin' to teach you to swear, and he'll golike a lamb. '

"I see'd what was the matter of the hoss by his action as soon as westarted; but I warn't agoin' for to let on to him about it. I wanted tosee the sport. Well, he took his hoss by the bridle and led him over thebridge, and he follered kindly, then he mounted, and no hoss could gobetter. Arter a little, we came to another bridge agin, and the sameplay was acted anew, same coaxin', same threatenin', and same thrashin';at last pony put down his head, and began to shake his tail, a gettin'ready for another bout of kickin'; when Steve got off and led him, anddid the same to every bridge we come to. 

"'It's no use, ' sais I, 'you must larn them oaths, he's used to 'emand misses them shocking. A sailor, a hoss, and a nigger ain't no goodwithout you swear at 'em; it comes kinder nateral to them, and they lookfor it, fact I assure you. Whips wear out, and so do spurs, but a goodsneezer of a cuss hain't no wear out to it; it's always the same. '

"'I'll larn him sunthin', sais he, 'when I get him to home, and out o'sight that will do him good, and that he won't forget for one while, Iknow. '

"Soon arter this we came to Everett's public-house on the bay, andI galloped up to the door, and went as close as I cleverly could onpurpose, and then reined up short and sudden, when whap goes the ponyright agin the side of the house, and nearly killed himself. He neverstirred for the matter of two or three minutes. I actilly did think hehad gone for it, and Steve went right thro' the winder on to the floor, with a holler noise, like a log o' wood thrown on to the deck of avessel. 'Eugh!' says he, and he cut himself with the broken glass quiteridikilous. 

"'Why, ' sais Everett, 'as I am a livin' sinner this is "theGrave-digger, " he'll kill you, man, as sure as you are born, he is thewickedest hoss that ever was seen in these clearins here; and he isas blind as a bat too. No man in Nova Scotia can manage that hoss butGoodish Greevoy, and he'd manage the devil that feller, for he is man, horse, shark, and sarpent all in one, that Frenchman. What possessed youto buy such a varmint as that?'

"'Grave digger!' said doleful Steve, 'what is that?'

"'Why, ' sais he, 'they went one day to bury a man, down to Clare didthe French, and when they got to the grave, who should be in it but thepony. He couldn't see, and as he was a feedin' about, he tumbled in headover heels and they called him always arterwards 'the Grave-digger. '"

"'Very simple people them French, ' sais I, 'Elder; they don't knownothin' about hosses, do they? Their priests keep them in ignorance onpurpose. '

"Steve winced and squinched his face properly; and said the glass inhis hands hurt him. Well, arter we sot all to rights, we began to jogon towards Digby. The Elder didn't say much, he was as chop fallen asa wounded moose; at last, says he, 'I'll ship him to St. John, and sellhim. I'll put him on board of Captain Ned Leonard's vessel, as soon as Iget to Digby. ' Well, as I turned my head to answer him, and sot eyes onhim agin, it most sot me a haw, hawin' a second time, he _did_ look solike Old Scratch. Oh Hedges! how haggardised he was! His new hat wassmashed down like a cap on the crown of his head, his white cravat wasbloody, his face all scratched, as if he had been clapper-clawed by awoman, and his hands was bound up with rags, where the glass cut 'em. The white sand of the floor of Everett's parlour had stuck to hisdamp clothes, and he looked like an old half corned miller, that was areturnin' to his wife, arter a spree. A leetle crest fallen for what hehad got, a leetle mean for the way he looked, and a leetle skeeredfor what he'd catch, when he got to home. The way he sloped warn't nomatter. He was a pictur, and a pictur I must say, I liked to look at. 

"And now Squire, do you take him off too, ingrave him, and bind him upin your book, and let others look at it, and put onder it '_the Elderand the Grave-digger_. '"

"Well, when we got to town, the tide was high, and the vessel jist readyto cast off, and Steve, knowin' how skeer'd pony was of the water, gotoff to lead him, but the critter guessed it warn't a bridge, for hesmelt salt water on both sides of him, and ahead too, and budge hewouldn't. Well, they beat him most to death, but he beat back agin withhis heels, and it was a drawd fight. Then they goes to the fence andgets a great strong pole, and puts it across his hams, two men at eacheend of the pole, and shoved away, and shoved away, till they progresseda yard or so; when pony squatted right down on the pole, throwd over themen, and most broke their legs, with his weight. 

"At last, the captain fetched a rope, and fixes it round his neck, witha slip knot, fastens it to the windlass, and dragged him in as they doan anchor, and tied him by his bridle to the boom; and then shoved off, and got under weigh. 

"Steve and I sot down on the wharf, for it was a beautiful day, andlooked at them driftin' out in the stream, and hystin' sail, while thefolks was gettin' somethin' ready for us to the inn. 

"When they had got out into the middle of the channel, took the breeze, and was all under way, and we was about turnin' to go back, I saw thepony loose, he had slipped his bridle, and not likin' the motion of thevessel, he jist walked overboard, head fust, with a most a beautifulsplunge. 

"'_A most refreshin' time_, ' said I, 'Elder, that critter has of it. Ihope _that sinner will be saved_. '

"He sprung right up on eend, as if he had been stung by a galley nipper, did Steve, 'Let me alone, ' said he. 'What have I done to be jobed, thatway? Didn't I keep within the strict line o' truth? Did I tell thatFrenchman one mossel of a lie? Answer me, that, will you? I've beencheated awful; but I scorn to take the advantage of any man. Youhad better look to your own dealin's, and let me alone, you pedlin', cheatin' Yankee clockmaker you. '

"'Elder, ' sais I, 'if you warn't too mean to rile a man, I'd give you akick on your pillion, that would send you a divin' arter your hoss; butyou ain't worth it. Don't call me names tho', or I'll settle your coffeefor you, without a fish skin, afore you are ready to swaller it I can_tell_ you. So keep your mouth shut, my old coon, or your teeth mightget sun-burnt. You think you are angry with me; but you aint; you areangry with yourself. You know you have showd yourself a proper fool forto come, for to go, for to talk to a man that has seed so much of theworld as I have, bout "_refreshin' time_, " and "_outpourin' of spirit_, "and "_makin' profession_" and what not; and you know you showd yourselfan everlastin' rogue, a meditatin' of cheatin' that Frenchman allsummer. It's biter bit, and I don't pity you one mossel; it sarvesyou right. But look at the grave-digger; he looks to me as if he was adiggin' of his own grave in rael right down airnest. '

"The captain havin' his boat histed, and thinkin' the hoss would swimashore of hisself, kept right straight on; and the hoss swam this way, and that way, and every way but the right road, jist as the eddies tookhim. At last, he got into the ripps off of Johnston's pint, and theywheeled him right round and round like a whip-top. Poor pony! he gothis match at last. He struggled, and jumpt, and plunged and fort, likea man, for dear life. Fust went up his knowin' little head, that had noears; and he tried to jump up and rear out of it, as he used to didout of a mire hole or honey pot ashore; but there was no bottom there;nothin' for his hind foot to spring from; so down he went agin ever sodeep: and then he tried t'other eend, and up went his broad rump, thathad no tail; but there was nothin' for the fore feet to rest on nother;so he made a summerset, and as he went over, he gave out a great longend wise kick to the full stretch of his hind legs. 

"Poor feller! it was the last kick he ever gave in this world; he senthis heels straight up on eend, like a pair of kitchen tongs, and thelast I see of him was a bright dazzle, as the sun shined on his ironshoes, afore the water closed over him for ever. 

"I railly felt sorry for the poor old 'grave-digger, ' I did upon mysoul, for hosses and ladies are two things, that a body can't helplikin'. Indeed, a feller that hante no taste that way ain't a man atall, in my opinion. Yes, I felt ugly for poor 'grave-digger, ' though Ididn't feel one single bit so for that cantin' cheatin', old Elder. Sowhen I turns to go, sais I, 'Elder, ' sais I, and I jist repeated his ownwords--'I guess it's your turn to laugh now, for you have got the bestof the bargain, and no mistake. Goodish and the old mare are jist alike, all tongue, ain't they? But these French is a simple people, so theybe; they don't know nothin', that's a fact. Their priests keep 'em inignorance a puppus. 

"The next time you tell your experience to the great Christian meetin'to Goose Creek, jist up and tell 'em, from beginnin' to eend, the storyof the--'_Elder and the Grave-digger_. '"

CHAPTER XIII. LOOKING BACK. 

In the course of the evening, Mr. Hopewell adverted to his return asa matter of professional duty, and spoke of it in such a feeling andearnest manner, as to leave no doubt upon my mind, that we should not beable to detain him long in this country, unless his attention should bekept fully occupied by a constant change of scene. 

Mr. Slick expressed to me the same fear, and, knowing that I had beentalking of going to Scotland, entreated me not to be long absent, for hefelt convinced that as soon as he should be left alone, his thoughts andwishes would at once revert to America. 

"I will try to keep him up, " said he, "as well as I can, but I can't doit alone. If you do go, don't leave us long. Whenever I find him dull, and can't cheer him up no how I can fix it, by talk, or fun, or sightseein' or nothin', I make him vexed, and that excites him, stirs him upwith a pot stick, and is of great sarvice to him. I don't mean actillymakin' him wrathy in airnest, but jist rilin of him for his own good, bypokin' a mistake at him. I'll shew you, presently, how I do it. "

As soon as Mr. Hopewell rejoined us, he began to inquire into theprobable duration of our visit to this country, and expressed a wish toreturn, as soon as possible, to Slickville. 

"Come, Minister, " said Mr. Slick, tapping him on the shoulder, "asfather used to say, we must 'right about face' now. When we are at homelet us think of home, when we are here, let us think of this place. Letus look a-head, don't let's look back, for we can't see nothin' there. "

"Indeed, Sam, " said he, with a sad and melancholy air, "it would bebetter for us all if we looked back oftener than we do. From the errorsof the past, we might rectify our course for the future. Prospective sinis often clothed in very alluring garments; past sin appears in all itsnaked deformity. Looking back, therefore--"

"Is very well, " said Mr. Slick, "in the way of preachin'; but lookin'back when you can't see nothin', as you are now, is only a hurtin' ofyour eyes. I never hear that word, 'lookin' back, ' that I don't think ofthat funny story of Lot's wife. "

"Funny story of Lot's wife, Sir! Do you call that a funny story, Sir?"

"I do, Sir. "

"You do, Sir?"

"Yes, I do, Sir; and I defy you or any other man to say it ain't a funnystory. "

"Oh dear, dear, " said Mr. Hopewell, "that I should have lived to seethe day when you, my son, would dare to speak of a Divine judgment as afunny story, and that you should presume so to address me. "

"A judgment, Sir?"

"Yes, a judgment, Sir. "

"Do you call the story of Lot's wife a judgment?"

"Yes, I do call the story of Lot's wife a judgment; a monument of theDivine wrath for the sin of disobedience. "

"What! Mrs. Happy Lot? Do you call her a monument of wrath? Well, well, if that don't beat all, Minister. If you had a been a-tyin' of thenight-cap last night I shouldn't a wondered at your talkin' at thatpace. But to call that dear little woman, Mrs. Happy Lot, that dancin', laughin' tormentin', little critter, a monument of wrath, beats all toimmortal smash. "

"Why who are you a-talkin' of, Sam?"

"Why, Mrs. Happy Lot, the wife of the Honourable Cranbery Lot, ofUmbagog, to be sure. Who did you think I was a-talkin' of?"

"Well, I thought you was a-talkin' of--of--ahem--of subjects too seriousto be talked of in that manner; but I did you wrong, Sam; I did youinjustice. Give me your hand, my boy. It's better for me to mistake andapologize, than for you to sin and repent. I don't think I ever heard ofMr. Lot, of Umbagog, or of his wife either. Sit down here, and tell methe story, for 'with thee conversing, I forget all time. '"

"Well, Minister, " said Mr. Slick, "I'll tell you the ins and outs of it;and a droll story it is too. Miss Lot was the darter of Enoch Mosher, the rich miser of Goshen; as beautiful a little critter too, as everslept in shoe-leather. She looked for all the world like one of theParis fashion prints, for she was a parfect pictur', that's a fact. Her complexion was made of white and red roses, mixed so beautiful, youcouldn't tell where the white eended, or the red begun, natur' hadused the blendin' brush so delicate. Her eyes were screw augurs, I tell_you_; they bored right into your heart, and kinder agitated you, andmade your breath come and go, and your pulse flutter. I never feltnothin' like 'em. When lit up, they sparkled like lamp reflectors; andat other tunes, they was as soft, and mild, and clear as dew-drops thathang on the bushes at sun-rise. When she loved, she loved; and when shehated, she hated about the wickedest you ever see. Her lips were likeheart cherries of the carnation kind; so plump, and fall, and hard, youfelt as if you could fall to and eat 'em right up. Her voice was like agrand piany, all sorts o' power in it; canary-birds' notes at one eend, and thunder at t'other, accordin' to the humour she was in, for shewas a'most a grand bit of stuff was Happy, she'd put an edge on a knifea'most. She was a rael steel. Her figur' was as light as a fairy's, andher waist was so taper and tiny, it seemed jist made for puttin' anarm round in walkin'. She was as ac_tive_ and springy on her feet as acatamount, and near about as touch me-not a sort of customer too. She actilly did seem as if she was made out of steel springs andchicken-hawk. If old Cran, was to slip off the handle, I think I shouldmake up to her, for she is 'a salt, ' that's a fact, a most a heavenlysplice. 

"Well, the Honourable Cranbery Lot put in for her, won her, and marriedher. A good speculation it turned out too, for he got the matter of onehundred thousand of dollars by her, if he got a cent. As soon as theywere fairly welded, off they sot to take the tour of Europe, and theylarfed and cried, and kissed and quarrelled, and fit and made up allover the Continent, for her temper was as onsartain as the climatehere--rain one minit and sun the next; but more rain nor sun. 

"He was a fool, was Cranbery. He didn't know how to manage her. Hisbridle hand warn't good, I tell you. A spry, mettlesome hoss, and a dullcritter with no action, don't mate well in harness, that's a fact. 

"After goin' every where, and every where else amost, where should theyget to but the Alps. One arternoon, a sincerely cold one it was too, andthe weather, violent slippy, dark overtook them before they reached thetop of one of the highest and steepest of them mountains, and they hadto spend the night at a poor squatter's shanty. 

"Well, next mornin', jist at day-break, and sun-rise on them everlastin'hills is tall sun-rise, and no mistake, p'rhaps nothin was ever seen sofine except the first one, since creation. It takes the rag off quite. Well, she was an enterprisin' little toad, was Miss Lot too, afeered ofnothin' a'most; so nothin' would sarve her but she must out and have ascramb up to the tip-topest part of the peak afore breakfast. 

"Well, the squatter there, who was a kind o' guide, did what he could todispersuade her, but all to no purpose; go she would, and a headstrongwoman and a runaway hoss are jist two things it's out of all reason totry to stop; The only way is to urge 'em on, and then, bein' contr_ary_by natur', they stop of themselves. 

"'Well, ' sais the guide, 'if you will go, marm, do take this pike staff, marm, ' sais he; (a sort of walkin'-stick with a spike to the eend ofit), 'for you can't get either up or down them slopes without it, it isso almighty slippy there. ' So she took the staff, and off she sot andclimbed and climbed ever so far, till she didn't look no bigger than asnowbird. 

"At last she came to a small flat place, like a table, and then sheturned round to rest, get breath, and take a look at the glorious view;and jist as she hove-to, up went her little heels, and away went herstick, right over a big parpendicular cliff, hundreds and hundreds, andthousands of feet deep. So deep, you couldn't see the bottom for theshadows, for the very snow looked black down there. There is no way in, it is so steep, but over the cliff; and no way out, but one, and thatleads to t'other world. I can't describe it to you, though. I have see'dit since myself. There are some things too big to lift; some, too bigto carry after they be lifted; and some too grand for the tongue todescribe too. There's a notch where dictionary can't go no farther, aswell as every other created thing, that's a fact. P'rhaps if I was tosay it looked like the mould that that 'are very peak was cast in, aforeit was cold and stiff, and sot up on eend, I should come as near themark as any thing I know on. 

"Well away she slid, feet and hands out, all flat on her face, rightaway, arter her pike staff. Most people would have ginn it up as gonegoose, and others been so frightened as not to do any thing at all; orat most only jist to think of a prayer, for there was no time to sayone. 

"But not so Lot's 'wife. She was of a conquerin' natur'. She never gavenothin' up, till she couldn't hold on no longer. She was one o' themcritters that go to bed mistress, and rise master; and just as shegot to the edge of the precipice, her head hangin' over, and her eyeslookin' down, and she all but ready to shoot out and launch away intobottomless space, the ten commandments brought her right short up. Oh, she sais, the sudden joy of that sudden stop swelled her heart so big, she thought it would have bust like a byler; and, as it was, the greatendurin' long breath she drew, arter such an alfired escape, almostkilled her at the ebb, it hurt her so. "

"But, " said Mr. Hopewell, "how did the ten commandments save her? Do youmean that figuratively, or literally. Was it her reliance on providence, arising from a conscious observance of the decalogue all her life, orwas it a book containing them, that caught against some thing, and stopther descent. It is very interesting. Many a person, Sam, has been savedwhen at the brink of destruction, by laying fast hold on the bible. Whocan doubt, that the commandments had a Divine origin? Short, simple andyet comprehensive; the first four point to our duty to our Maker, thelast six, towards our social duties. In this respect there is a greatsimilarity of structure, to that excellent prayer given us--"

"Oh, Minister, " said Mr. Slick, "I beg your pardon, I do, indeed, Idon't mean that at all; and I do declare and vow now, I wasn't a playin'possum with you, nother. I won't do it no more, I won't, indeed. "

"Well, what did you mean then?"

"Why I meant her ten fingers, to be sure. When a woman clapper claws herhusband, we have a cant tarm with us boys of Slickville, savin' she gavehim her ten commandments. "

"And a very improper expression too, Sir, " said Mr. Hopewell; "a veryirreverent, indecent, and I may say profane expression; I am quiteshocked. But as you say you didn't mean it, are sorry for it, and willnot repeat it again, I accept your apology, and rely on your promise. Goon, Sir. "

"Well, as I was a savin', the moment she found herself a coasting of itthat way, flounder fashion, she hung on by her ten com--I mean her tenfingers, and her ten toes, like grim death to a dead nigger, and itbrought her up jist in time. But how to get back was the question? Tolet go the hold of any one hand was sartain death, and there was nobodyto help her, and yet to hold on long that way, she couldn't, no how shecould fix it. 

"So what does she do, (for nothin' equals a woman for contrivances), butmove one finger at a time, and then one toe at a time, till she getsa new hold, and then crawls backward, like a span-worm, an inch at ahitch. Well, she works her passage this way, wrong eend foremost, bybackin' of her paddles for the matter of half an hour or so, till shegets to where it was roughish, and somethin' like standin' ground, whenwho should come by but a tall handsome man, with a sort of a half coat, half cloak-like coverin' on, fastened round the waist with a belt, andhavin' a hood up, to ambush the head. 

"The moment she clapt eyes on him, she called to him for help. 'Oh, 'sais she, 'for heaven's sake, good man, help me up! Jist take hold of myleg and draw me back, will you, that's a good soul?' And then sheheld up fust one leg for him, and then the other, most beseechin', butnothin' would move him. He jist stopt, looked back for a moment and thenprogressed agin. 

"Well, it ryled her considerable. Her eyes actilly snapped with fire, like a hemlock log at Christmas: (for nothin' makes a woman so mad as aparsonal slight, and them little ankles of hern were enough to move theheart of a stone, and make it jump out o' the ground, that's a fact, they were such fine-spun glass ones), it made her so mad, it gave herfresh strength; and makin' two or three onnateral efforts, she got clearback to the path, and sprung right up on eend, as wicked as a she-bearwith a sore head. But when she got upright agin, she then see'd what abeautiful frizzle of a fix she was in. She couldn't hope to climb far;and, indeed, she didn't ambition to; she'd had enough of that, for onespell. But climbin' up was nothin', compared to goin' down hill withouther staff; so what to do, she didn't know. 

"At last, a thought struck her. She intarmined to make that man helpher, in spite of him. So she sprung forward for a space, like a painter, for life or death, and caught right hold of his cloak. 'Help--help me!'said she, 'or I shall go for it, that's sartain. Here's my puss, myrings, my watch, and all I have got; but oh, help me! for the love ofGod, help me, or my flint is fixed for good and all. '

"With that, the man turned round, and took one glance at her, as if hekinder relented, and then, all at once, wheeled back again, as amazed asif he was jist born, gave an awful yell, and started off as fast as hecould clip, though that warn't very tall runnin' nother, considerin' theground. But she warn't to be shook off that way. She held fast to hiscloak, like a burr to a sheep's tail, and raced arter him, screamin' andscreechin' like mad; and the more she cried, the louder he yelled, tillthe mountains all echoed it and re-echoed it, so that you would havethought a thousand devils had broke loose, a'most. 

"Such a gettin' up stairs you never did see. 

"Well, they kept up this tantrum for the space of two or three hundredyards, when they came to a small, low, dismal-lookin' house, whenthe man gave the door a kick, that sent the latch a flyin' off to thet'other eend of the room, and fell right in on the floor, on his face, as flat as a flounder, a groanin' and a moanin' like any thing, andlookin' as mean as a critter that was sent for, and couldn't come, andas obstinate as a pine stump. 

"'What ails you?' sais she, 'to act like Old Scratch that way? You oughtto be ashamed of yourself, to behave so to a woman. What on airth isthere about me to frighten you so, you great onmannerly, onmarciful, coward, you. Come, scratch up, this minute. '

"Well, the more she talked, the more he groaned; but the devil a word, good or bad, could she get out of him at all. With that, she stoopsdown, and catches up his staff, and says she, 'I have as great a mind togive you a jab with this here toothpick, where your mother used to spankyou, as ever I had in all my life. But if you want it, my old 'coon, youmust come and get it; for if you won't help me, I shall help myself. '

"Jist at that moment, her eyes being better accustomed to the dim lightof the place, she see'd a man, a sittin' at the fur eend of the room, with his back to the wall, larfin' ready to kill himself. He grinnedso, he showed his corn-crackers from ear to ear. She said, he stript histeeth like a catamount, he look'd so all mouth. 

"Well, that encouraged her, for there ain't much harm in a larfin' man;it's only them that never larf that's fearfulsome. So sais she 'My goodman, will you he so kind as to lend me your arm down this awful peak, and I will reward you handsomely, you may depend. '

"Well, he made no answer, nother; and thinkin' he didn't onderstandEnglish, she tried him in Italian, and then in broken French, and thenbungled out a little German; but no, still no answer. He took no morenotice of her and her mister, and senior, and mountsheer, and mynheer, than if he never heerd them titles, but jist larfed on. 

"She stopped a minit, and looked at him full in the face, to see what hemeant by all this ongenteel behaviour, when all of a sudden, jist as shemoved one step nearer to him, she saw he was a dead man, and had been solong there, part of the flesh had dropt off or dried off his face; andit was that that made him grin that way, like a fox-trap. It was thebone-house they was in. The place where poor, benighted, snow-squalledstragglers, that perish on the mountains, are located, for their friendsto come and get them, if they want 'em; and if there ain't any body thatknows 'em or cares for 'em, why they are left there for ever, to dryinto nothin' but parchment and atomy, as it's no joke diggin' a grave inthat frozen region. 

"As soon as she see'd this, she never said another blessed word, butjist walked off with the livin' man's pike, and began to poke her waydown the mountain as careful as she cleverly could, dreadful tired, andawful frighted. 

"Well, she hadn't gone far, afore she heard her name echoed all roundher--Happy! Happy! Happy! It seemed from the echoes agin, as if therewas a hundred people a yelling it put all at once. 

"Oh, very happy, ' said she, 'very happy, indeed; guess you'd find itso if you was here. I know I should feel very happy if I was out of it, that's all; for I believe, on my soul, this is harnted ground, and thepeople in it are possessed. Oh, if I was only to home, to dear Umbagogagin, no soul should ever ketch me in this outlandish place any more, _I_ know. '

"Well, the sound increased and increased so, like young thunder she wase'en a'most skeared to death, and in a twitteration all over; and herknees began to shake so, she expected to go for it every minute; when asudden turn of the path show'd her her husband and the poor squatter asarchin' for her. 

"She was so overcome with fright and joy, she could hardly speak--and itwarn't a trifle that would toggle her tongue, that's a fact. It wassome time after she arrived at the house afore she could up and tell thestory onderstandable; and when she did, she had to tell it twice over, first in short hand, and then in long metre, afore she could make outthe whole bill o' parcels. Indeed, she hante done tellin' it yet, andwherever she is, she works round, and works round, till she gets Europespoke of, and then she begins, 'That reminds me of a most remarkablefact. Jist after I was married to Mr. Lot, we was to the Alps. '

"If ever you see her, and she begins that way, up hat and cut stick, double quick, or you'll find the road over the Alps to Umbagog, a littlethe longest you've ever travelled, I know. 

"Well, she had no sooner done than Cranbery jumps up on eend, and saishe to the guide, 'Uncle, ' sais he, 'jist come along with me, that's agood feller, will you? We must return that good Samaritan's' cane tohim; and as he must be considerable cold there, I'll jist warm his hidea bit for him, to make his blood sarculate. If he thinks I'll put thattreatment to my wife, Miss Lot, into my pocket, and walk off with it, he's mistaken in the child, that's all, Sir. He may be stubbeder than Ibe, Uncle, that's a fact; but if he was twice as stubbed, I'd walkinto him like a thousand of bricks. I'll give him a taste of my breed. Insultin' a lady is a weed we don't suffer to grow in our fieldsto Umbagog. Let him be who the devil he will, log-leg orleather-breeches--green-shirt or blanket-coat--land-trotter orriver-roller, I'll let him know there is a warrant out arter him, Iknow. "

"'Why, ' sais the guide, 'he couldn't help himself, no how he could workit. He is a friar, or a monk, or a hermit, or a pilgrim, or somethin'or another of that kind, for there is no eend to them, they are so manydifferent sorts; but the breed he is of, have a vow never to look at awoman, or talk to a woman, or touch a woman, and if they do, there is apenance, as long as into the middle of next week. '

"'Not look at a woman?' sais Cran, 'why, what sort of a guess worldwould this be without petticoats?--what a superfine superior tarnationfool he must be, to jine such a tee-total society as that. Mint julip Icould give up, I _do_ suppose, though I had a plaguy sight sooner notdo it, that's a fact: but as for womankind, why the angeliferouslittle torments, there is no livin' without _them_. What do you think, stranger?'

"'Sartainly, ' said Squatter; 'but seein' that the man had a vow, why itwarn't his fault, for he couldn't do nothin' else. Where _he_ did wrong, was _to look back_; if he hadn't a _looked back_, he wouldn't havesinned. '

"'Well, well, ' sais Cran, 'if that's the case, it is a hoss of anothercolour, that. I won't look back nother, then. Let him he. But he iserroneous considerable. '

"So you see, Minister, " said Mr. Slick, "where there is nothin' to begained, and harm done, by this retrospection, as you call it, why Ithink lookin' a-head is far better than--_lookin' back_. "

CHAPTER XIV. CROSSING THE BORDER. 

The time had now arrived when it was necessary for me to go toScotland, for a few days. I had two very powerful reasons for thisexcursion:--first, because an old and valued friend of mine was there, whom I had not met for many years, and whom I could not think of leavingthis country without seeing again; and secondly, because I was desirousof visiting the residence of my forefathers on the Tweed, which, although it had passed out of their possession many years ago, was stillendeared to me as their home, as the scene of the family traditions; andabove all, as their burial place. 

The grave is the first stage on the journey, from this to the otherworld. We are permitted to escort our friends so far, and no further; itis there we part for ever. It is there the human form is deposited, whenmortality is changed for immortality. This burial place contains no onethat I have ever seen or known; but it contains the remains of thosefrom whom I derived my lineage and my name. I therefore naturallydesired to see it. 

Having communicated my intention to my two American companions, I wasvery much struck with the different manner in which they received theannouncement. 

"Come back soon, Squire, " said Mr. Slick; "go and see your old friend, if you must, and go to the old campin' grounds of your folks; though thewigwam I expect has gone long ago, but don't look at anythin' else. I want we should visit the country together. I have an idea from whatlittle I have seed of it, Scotland is over-rated. I guess there is agood deal of romance about their old times; and that, if we knowed all, their old lairds warn't much better, or much richer than our Ingianchiefs; much of a muchness. Kinder sorter so, and kinder sorter not so, no great odds. Both hardy, both fierce; both as poor as Job's Turkey, and both tarnation proud, at least, that's my idea to a notch. 

"I have often axed myself what sort of a gall that splenderiferous, 'Lady of the Lake' of Scott's was, and I kinder guess she was ared-headed Scotch heifer, with her hair filled with heather, andfeather, and lint, with no shoes and stockings to her feet, and that

 "Her lips apart Like monument of Grecian art"

meant that she stared with her eyes and mouth wide open, like othercounty galls that never see'd nothing before--a regilar screetch owlin petticoats. And I suspicion, that Mr. Rob Roy was a sort of thievin'devil of a white Mohawk, that found it easier to steal cattle, thanraise them himself; and that Loch Katrin, that they make such a toussabout, is jist about equal to a good sizeable duck-pond in our country;at least, that's my idea. For I tell you it does not do to follow artera poet, and take all he says for gospel. 

"Yes, let's go and see Sawney in his "Ould _Reeky_. " Airth and seas! ifI have any nose at all, there never was a place so well named as that. Phew! let me light a cigar to get rid of the fogo of it. 

"Then let's cross over and see "Pat at Home;" let's look intomatters and things there, and see what "Big Dan" is about, with his"association" and "agitation" and "repail" and "tee-totals. " Let's seewhether it's John Bull or Patlander that's to blame, or both on 'em; sixof one and half-a-dozen of tother. By Gosh! Minister would talk, moresense in one day to Ireland, than has been talked there since therebellion; for common sense is a word that don't grow like Jacob'sladder, in them diggins, I guess. It's about, as stunted as GineralNichodemus Ott's corn was. 

"The Gineral was takin' a ride with a southerner one day over his farmto Bangor in Maine, to see his crops, fixin mill privileges and whatnot, and the southerner was a turning up his nose at every thing amost, proper scorney, and braggin' how things growed on his estate down south. At last the Gineral's ebenezer began to rise, and he got as mad as ahatter, and was intarmed to take a rise out of him. 

"'So, ' says he, 'stranger, ' says he, 'you talk about your Indgian corn, as if nobody else raised any but yourself. Now I'll bet you a thousanddollars, I have corn that's growd so wonderful, you can't reach the topof it a standin' on your horse. '

"'Done, ' sais Southener, and 'Done, ' sais the General, and done it was. 

"'Now, ' sais the Giniral, 'stand up on your saddle like a circus rider, for the field is round that corner of the wood there. ' And the entirestranger stood up as stiff as a poker. 'Tall corn, I guess, ' sais he, 'if I can't reach it, any how, for I can e'en a'most reach the top o'them trees. I think I feel them thousand dollars of yourn, a marchin'quick step into my pocket, four deep. Reach your corn, to be sure Iwill. Who the plague, ever see'd corn so tall, that a man couldn't reachit a horseback. '

"'Try it, ' sais the Gineral, as he led him into the field, where thecorn was only a foot high, the land was so monstrous, mean and sobeggarly poor. 

"'Reach it, ' sais the Gineral. 

"'What a damned Yankee trick, ' sais the Southener. 'What a take inthis is, ain't it?' and he leapt, and hopt, and jumped like a snappin'turtle, he was so mad. Yes, common sense to Ireland, is like Indgiancorn to Bangor, it ain't overly tall growin', that's a fact. We must seeboth these countries together. It is like the nigger's pig to the WestIndies "little and dam old. "

"Oh, come back soon, Squire, I have a thousand things, I want to tellyou, and I shall forget one half o' them, if you don't; and besides, "said he in an onder tone, "_he_" (nodding his head towards Mr. Hopewell, ) "will miss you shockingly. He frets horridly about his flock. He says, ''Mancipation and Temperance have superceded the Scripturesin the States. That formerly they preached religion there, but now theyonly preach about niggers and rum. ' Good bye, Squire. "

"You do right, Squire, " said Mr. Hopewell, "to go. That which has tobe done, should be done soon, for we have not always the command of ourtime. See your friend, for the claims of friendship are sacred; and seeyour family tomb-stones also, for the sight of them, will awaken a trainof reflections in a mind like yours, at once melancholy and elevating;but I will not deprive you of the pleasure you will derive from firstimpressions, by stripping them of their novelty. You will be pleasedwith the Scotch; they are a frugal, industrious, moral and intellectualpeople. I should like to see their agriculture, I am told it is by farthe best in Europe. 

"But, Squire, I shall hope to see you soon, for I sometimes think dutycalls me home again. Although my little flock has chosen other shepherdsand quitted my fold, some of them may have seen their error, and wish toreturn. And ought I not to be there to receive them? It is true, I am nolonger a labourer in the vineyard, but my heart is there. I should liketo walk round and round the wall that encloses it, and climb up, andlook into it, and talk to them that are at work there. I might give someadvice that would be valuable to them. The blossoms require shelter, andthe fruit requires heat, and the roots need covering in Winter. The vinetoo is luxuriant, and must be pruned, or it will produce nothing butwood. It demands constant care and constant labour; I had decorated thelittle place with flowers too, to make it attractive and pleasant. 

"But, ah me! dissent will pull all these up like weeds, and throw themout; and scepticism will raise nothing but gaudy annuals. The perennialswill not flourish without cultivating and enriching the ground; _theirroots are in the heart_. The religion of our Church, which is the sameas this of England, is a religion which inculcates love: filial lovetowards God; paternal love to those committed to our care; brotherlylove, to our neighbour, nay, something more than is known by that termin its common acceptation, for we are instructed to love our neighbouras ourselves. 

"We are directed to commence our prayer with "Our Father. " How muchof love, of tenderness, of forbearance, of kindness, of liberality, isembodied in that word--children: of the same father, members of the samegreat human family I Love is the bond of union--love dwelleth in theheart; and the heart must be cultivated, that the seeds of affection maygerminate in it. 

"Dissent is cold and sour; it never appeals to the affections, but itscatters denunciations, and rules by terror. Scepticism is proudand self-sufficient. It refuses to believe in mysteries and deals inrhetoric and sophistry, and flatters the vanity, by exalting humanreason. My poor lost flock will see the change, and I fear, feel it too. Besides, absence is a temporary death. Now I am gone from them, theywill forget my frailties and infirmities, and dwell on what little goodmight have been in me, and, perhaps, yearn towards me. 

"If I was to return, perhaps I could make an impression on the minds ofsome, and recall two or three, if not more, to a sense of duty. What agreat thing that would be, wouldn't it? And if I did, I would get ourbishop to send me a pious, zealous, humble-minded, affectionate, ableyoung man, as a successor; and I would leave my farm, and orchard, andlittle matters, as a glebe for the Church. And who knows but theLord may yet rescue Slickville from the inroads of ignorant fanatics, political dissenters, and wicked infidels?

"And besides, my good friend, I have much to say to you, relative tothe present condition and future prospects of this great country. I havelived to see a few ambitious lawyers, restless demagogues, politicalpreachers, and unemployed local officers of provincial regiments, agitate and sever thirteen colonies at one time from the government ofEngland. I have witnessed the struggle. It was a fearful, a bloody andan unnatural one. My opinions, therefore, are strong in proportion as myexperience is great. I have abstained on account of their appearing likepreconceptions from saying much to you yet, for I want to see more ofthis country, and to be certain, that I am quite right before I speak. 

"When you return, I will give you my views on some of the greatquestions of the day. Don't adopt them, hear them and compare them withyour own. I would have you think for yourself, for I am an old man nowand sometimes I distrust my powers of mind. 

"The state of this country you, in your situation, ought to bethoroughly acquainted with. It is a very perilous one. Its prosperity, its integrity, nay its existence as a first-rate power, hangs by athread, and that thread but little better and stronger than a cottonone. _Quem Deus vult perdere prius dementat_. I look in vain for thatconstitutional vigour, and intellectual power, which once ruled thedestinies of this great nation. 

"There is an aberration of intellect, and a want of self-possession herethat alarms me. I say, alarms me, for American as I am by birth, andrepublican as I am from the force of circumstances, I cannot but regardEngland with great interest, and with great affection. What a beautifulcountry! What a noble constitution! What a high minded, intelligent, andgenerous people! When the Whigs came into office, the Tories were nota party, they were the people of England. Where and what are they now?Will they ever have a lucid interval, or again recognise the sound oftheir own name? And yet, Sam, doubtful as the prospect of their recoveryis, and fearful as the consequences of a continuance of their maladyappear to be, one thing is most certain, _a Tory government is theproper government for a monarchy, a suitable one for any country, butit is the only one for England_. I do not mean an ultra one, for I ama moderate man, and all extremes are equally to be avoided. I mean atemperate, but firm one: steady to its friends, just to its enemies, andinflexible to all. "When compelled to yield, it should be by the forceof reason, and never by the power of agitation. Its measures should beactuated by a sense of what is right, and not what is expedient, forto concede is to recede--to recede is to evince weakness--and to betrayweakness is to invite attack. 

"I am a stranger here. I do not understand this new word, Conservatism. I comprehend the other two, Toryism and Liberalism. The one is amonarchical, and the other a republican word. The term, Conservatism, I suppose, designates a party formed out of the moderate men of bothsides, or rather, composed of Low-toned Tories and High Whigs. I do notlike to express a decided opinion yet, but my first impression is alwaysadverse to mixtures, for a mixture renders impure the elements of whichit is compounded. Every thing will depend on the preponderance of thewholesome over the deleterious ingredients. I will analyse it carefully. See how one neutralizes or improves the other, and what the effect ofthe compound is likely to be on the constitution. I will request ourAmbassador, Everett, or Sam's friend, the Minister Extraordinary, Abednego Layman, to introduce me to Sir Robert Peel, and will endeavourto obtain all possible information from the best possible source. 

"On your return I will give you a candid and deliberate opinion. "

After a silence of some minutes, during which he walked up and downthe room in a fit of abstraction, he suddenly paused, and said, as ifthinking aloud--

"Hem, hem--so you are going to cross the border, eh? That northernintellect is strong. Able men the Scotch, a little too radical inpolitics, and a little too liberal, as it is called, in a matter of muchgreater consequence; but a superior people, on the whole. They will giveyou a warm reception, will the Scotch. Your name will insure that; andthey are clannish; and another warm reception will, I assure you, awaityou here, when, returning, you again _Cross the Border_. "

CHAPTER XV. THE IRISH PREFACE. 

Gentle reader, If an Irishman were asked what a preface was, he would, withouthesitation reply, that it was the last chapter of a book, and we shouldunquestionably pronounce that answer to be a bull; for how can prefatoryremarks be valedictory ones? A few moments' consideration, however, would induce us to withdraw such a hasty opinion, and convince us thathis idea is, after all, a correct one. It is almost always the partthat is last written, and _we_ perpetrate the bull, by placing it at thebeginning instead of the end of the book, and denominating our partingwords introductory remarks. 

The result of our arrangement is, that nobody reads it. The public donot want to hear an apology or explanation, until it first ascertains, whether the one can be accepted, or the other is required. Thiscontemptuous neglect arises from two causes, first because it is outof place, and secondly because it too often contains a great dealof twaddle. Unfortunately, one half of what is said in this world isunmeaning compliment. A man who wishes to mark his respect for you, among other inconvenient methods of shewing it, offers to accompany youto the Hall. You are in consequence arrested in your progress. You arecompelled to turn on your pursuer, and entreat him not to come to thedoor. After a good deal of lost time he is prevailed upon to return. This is not fair. Every man should be suffered to depart in peace. 

Now, it is my intention to adopt the Irish definition. The word prefaceis a misnomer. What I have to say I shall put into my last chapter, andassign to it its proper place. I shall also adopt another improvement, on the usual practice. I shall make it as short as possible, and speakto the point. 

My intention then, gentle reader, was when I commenced this work, towrite but one volume, and at some future time to publish a second. The materials, however, were so abundant, that selection became verydifficult, and compression much more so. To touch as many topics as Idesigned, I was compelled to extend it to its present size, and I stillfeel that the work is only half done. Whether I shall ever be able tosupply this deficiency I cannot say. I do not doubt your kind reception;I have experienced too much indulgence and favour at your hands, tosuppose that you will withdraw it from one whom you have honoured withrepeated marks of approbation; but I entertain some fears that I shallnot be able to obtain the time that is necessary for its completion, and that if I can command the leisure, my health will insist on a priorclaim to its disposal. 

If, however, I shall be enabled so to do, it is my intention, hereafterto add another series of the Sayings and Doings of the Attache, so as tomake the work as complete as possible. 

I am quite confident it is not necessary to add, that the sentimentsuttered by Mr. Slick, are not designed either as an expression of thoseof the author, or of the Americans who visit this country. With respectto myself no disavowal is necessary; but I feel it due to my Americanfriends, for whose kindness I can never be sufficiently grateful, and whose good opinion I value too highly to jeopardise it by anymisapprehension, to state distinctly, that I have not the most remoteidea of putting Mr. Slick forward, as a representative of any opinions, but his own individual ones. They are peculiar to himself. They naturally result from his shrewdness--knowledge of humannature--quickness of perception and appreciation of the ridiculous onthe one hand; and on the other from his defective education, ignoranceof the usages of society, and sudden elevation, from the lower walks oflife, to a station for which he was wholly unqualified. 

I have endeavoured, as far as it was possible, in a work of this kind, to avoid all personal allusions to _private_ persons, or in any way torefer to scenes that may be supposed to have such a hearing. Should anyone imagine that he can trace any resemblance, to any private occurrenceI can only assure him that such resemblance is quite accidental. 

On the other hand, I have lost no opportunity of inculcating what Iconceive to be good sound constitutional doctrines. Loyal myself, agreat admirer of the monarchical form of government; attached to BritishInstitutions, and a devoted advocate for the permanent connexionbetween the parent State, and its transatlantic possessions, I have nothesitated to give utterance to these opinions. Born a Colonist, it isnatural I should have the feelings of one, and if I have obtrudedlocal matters on the notice of the reader oftener than may be thoughtnecessary, it must be remembered that an inhabitant of those distantcountries has seldom an opportunity of being heard. I should feel, therefore, if I were to pass over in silence our claims or ourinterests, I was affording the best justification for that neglect, which for the last half century, has cramped our energies, paralized ourefforts, and discouraged and disheartened ourselves. England is liberalin concessions, and munificent in her pecuniary grants to us; but isso much engrossed with domestic politics, that she will bestow upon usneither time nor consideration. 

It has been my object, therefore, to convey to the public some importanttruths, under a humorous cover, which, without the amusement afforded bythe wrapper would never be even looked at. 

This portion of the work requires no apology. To do as I have done, isa duty incumbent on any person who has the means of doing good, affordedhim by such an extensive circulation of his works, as I have beenhonoured with. 

I have already expressed some doubts whether I shall be enabled tofurnish a second series of this work or not. In this uncertainty, I willnot omit this, perhaps my only opportunity, of making my most gratefulacknowledgments, for the very great measure of indulgence I havereceived, from the public on both sides of the Atlantic, and ofexpressing a hope that Mr. Slick, who has been so popular as aClockmaker may prove himself equally deserving of favour as "anAttache. "

I have the honour to subscribe myself, Your most obedient servant, THE AUTHOR. 

London, July 1st. , 1843. 

THE END.