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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Attache, by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Attache
+       or, Sam Slick in England, Volume 1
+
+Author: Thomas Chandler Haliburton
+
+Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7821]
+Posting Date: July 23, 2009
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ATTACHE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Gardner Buchanan
+
+
+
+
+
+THE ATTACHE
+
+or, SAM SLICK IN ENGLAND, Volume 1
+
+By Thomas Chandler Haliburton
+
+
+(Greek Text)--GREEK PROVERB.
+
+Tell you what, report my speeches if you like, but if you put my talk
+in, I'll give you the mitten, as sure as you are born.--SLICKVILLE
+TRANSLATION
+
+
+
+London, July 3rd, 1843.
+
+MY DEAR HOPKINSON,
+
+I have spent so many agreeable hours at Edgeworth heretofore, that my
+first visit on leaving London, will be to your hospitable mansion. In
+the meantime, I beg leave to introduce to you my "Attache," who will
+precede me several days. His politics are similar to your own; I wish I
+could say as much in favour of his humour. His eccentricities will stand
+in need of your indulgence; but if you can overlook these, I am not
+without hopes that his originality, quaint sayings, and queer views of
+things in England, will afford you some amusement. At all events, I feel
+assured you will receive him kindly; if not for his own merits, at least
+for the sake of
+
+Yours always,
+
+THE AUTHOR.
+
+To EDMUND HOPKINSON ESQ. Edgeworth, Gloucestershire.
+
+
+
+     CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
+
+     CHAPTER I.    UNCORKING A BOTTLE
+     CHAPTER II.   A JUICY DAY IN THE COUNTRY
+     CHAPTER III.  TYING A NIGHT-CAP
+     CHAPTER IV.   HOME AND THE SEA
+     CHAPTER V.    T'OTHER EEND OF THE GUN
+     CHAPTER VI.   SMALL POTATOES AND FEW IN A HILL
+     CHAPTER VII.  A GENTLEMAN AT LARGE
+     CHAPTER VIII. SEEING LIVERPOOL
+     CHAPTER IX.   CHANGING A NAME
+     CHAPTER X.    THE NELSON MONUMENT
+     CHAPTER XI.   COTTAGES
+     CHAPTER XII.  STEALING THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE
+     CHAPTER XIII. NATUR'
+     CHAPTER XIV.  THE SOCDOLAGER
+     CHAPTER XV.   DINING OUT
+
+
+
+
+THE ATTACHE; OR SAM SLICK IN ENGLAND.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I. UNCORKING A BOTTLE.
+
+We left New York in the afternoon of -- day of May, 184-, and embarked
+on board of the good Packet ship "Tyler" for England. Our party
+consisted of the Reverend Mr. Hopewell, Samuel Slick, Esq., myself, and
+Jube Japan, a black servant of the Attache.
+
+I love brevity--I am a man of few words, and, therefore,
+constitutionally economical of them; but brevity is apt to degenerate
+into obscurity. Writing a book, however, and book-making, are two very
+different things: "spinning a yarn" is mechanical, and book-making
+savours of trade, and is the employment of a manufacturer. The author
+by profession, weaves his web by the piece, and as there is much
+competition in this branch of trade, extends it over the greatest
+possible surface, so as to make the most of his raw material. Hence
+every work of fancy is made to reach to three volumes, otherwise it will
+not pay, and a manufacture that does not requite the cost of production,
+invariably and inevitably terminates in bankruptcy. A thought,
+therefore, like a pound of cotton, must be well spun out to be valuable.
+It is very contemptuous to say of a man, that he has but one idea, but
+it is the highest meed of praise that can be bestowed on a book. A man,
+who writes thus, can write for ever.
+
+Now, it is not only not my intention to write for ever, or as Mr. Slick
+would say "for everlastinly;" but to make my bow and retire very soon
+from the press altogether. I might assign many reasons for this modest
+course, all of them plausible, and some of them indeed quite dignified.
+I like dignity: any man who has lived the greater part of his life in
+a colony is so accustomed to it, that he becomes quite enamoured of it,
+and wrapping himself up in it as a cloak, stalks abroad the "observed of
+all observers." I could undervalue this species of writing if I
+thought proper, affect a contempt for idiomatic humour, or hint at the
+employment being inconsistent with the grave discharge of important
+official duties, which are so distressingly onerous, as not to leave
+me a moment for recreation; but these airs, though dignified, will
+unfortunately not avail me. I shall put my dignity into my pocket,
+therefore, and disclose the real cause of this diffidence.
+
+In the year one thousand eight hundred and fourteen, I embarked at
+Halifax on board the Buffalo store-ship for England. She was a noble
+teak built ship of twelve or thirteen hundred tons burden, had excellent
+accommodation, and carried over to merry old England, a very merry party
+of passengers, _quorum parva pars fui_, a youngster just emerged from
+college.
+
+On the banks of Newfoundland we were becalmed, and the passengers amused
+themselves by throwing overboard a bottle, and shooting at it with ball.
+The guns used for this occasion, were the King's muskets, taken from the
+arm-chest on the quarter-deck. The shooting was execrable. It was hard
+to say which were worse marksmen, the officers of the ship, or the
+passengers. Not a bottle was hit: many reasons were offered for this
+failure, but the two principal ones were, that the muskets were bad, and
+that it required great skill to overcome the difficulty occasioned by
+both, the vessel and the bottle being in motion at the same time, and
+that motion dissimilar.
+
+I lost my patience. I had never practised shooting with ball; I had
+frightened a few snipe, and wounded a few partridges, but that was
+the extent of my experience. I knew, however, that I could not by any
+possibility shoot worse than every body else had done, and might by
+accident shoot better.
+
+"Give me a gun, Captain," said I, "and I will shew you how to uncork
+that bottle."
+
+I took the musket, but its weight was beyond my strength of arm. I was
+afraid that I could not hold it out steadily, even for a moment, it was
+so very heavy--I threw it up with a desperate effort and fired. The neck
+of the bottle flew up in the air a full yard, and then disappeared. I
+was amazed myself at my success. Every body was surprised, but as every
+body attributed it to long practice, they were not so much astonished as
+I was, who knew it was wholly owing to chance. It was a lucky hit, and I
+made the most of it; success made me arrogant, and boy-like, I became a
+boaster.
+
+"Ah," said I coolly, "you must be born with a rifle in your hand,
+Captain, to shoot well. Every body shoots well in America. I do not call
+myself a good shot. I have not had the requisite experience; but there
+are those who can take out the eye of a squirrel at a hundred yards."
+
+"Can you see the eye of a squirrel at that distance?" said the Captain,
+with a knowing wink of his own little ferret eye.
+
+That question, which raised a general laugh at my expense, was a
+puzzler. The absurdity of the story, which I had heard a thousand times,
+never struck me so forcibly. But I was not to be pat down so easily.
+
+"See it!" said I, "why not? Try it and you will find your sight improve
+with your shooting. Now, I can't boast of being a good marksman myself;
+my studies" (and here I looked big, for I doubted if he could even read,
+much less construe a chapter in the Greek Testament) "did not leave me
+much time. A squirrel is too small an object for all but an experienced
+man, but a "_large_" mark like a quart bottle can easily be hit at a
+hundred yards--that is nothing."
+
+"I will take you a bet," said he, "of a doubloon, you do not do it
+again?"
+
+"Thank you," I replied with great indifference: "I never bet, and
+besides, that gun has so injured my shoulder, that I could not, if I
+would."
+
+By that accidental shot, I obtained a great name as a marksman, and by
+prudence I retained it all the voyage. This is precisely my case now,
+gentle reader. I made an accidental hit with the Clockmaker: when he
+ceases to speak, I shall cease to write. The little reputation I then
+acquired, I do not intend to jeopardize by trying too many experiments.
+I know that it was chance--many people think it was skill. If they
+choose to think so, they have a right to their opinion, and that opinion
+is fame. I value this reputation too highly not to take care of it.
+
+As I do not intend then to write often, I shall not wire-draw my
+subjects, for the mere purpose of filling my pages. Still a book should
+be perfect within itself, and intelligible without reference to other
+books. Authors are vain people, and vanity as well as dignity is
+indigenous to a colony. Like a pastry-cook's apprentice, I see so much
+of both their sweet things around me daily, that I have no appetite for
+either of them.
+
+I might perhaps be pardoned, if I took it for granted, that the
+dramatis personae of this work were sufficiently known, not to require
+a particular introduction. Dickens assumed the fact that his book on
+America would travel wherever the English language was spoken, and,
+therefore, called it "Notes for General Circulation." Even Colonists
+say, that this was too bad, and if they say so, it must be so. I shall,
+therefore, briefly state, who and what the persons are that composed our
+travelling party, as if they were wholly unknown to fame, and then leave
+them to speak for themselves.
+
+The Reverend Mr. Hopewell is a very aged clergyman of the Church of
+England, and was educated at Cambridge College, in Massachusetts.
+Previously to the revolution, he was appointed rector of a small parish
+in Connecticut. When the colonies obtained their independence, he
+remained with his little flock in his native land, and continued to
+minister to their spiritual wants until within a few years, when his
+parishioners becoming Unitarians, gave him his dismissal. Affable in
+his manners and simple in his habits, with a mind well stored with human
+lore, and a heart full of kindness for his fellow-creatures, he was at
+once an agreeable and an instructive companion. Born and educated in the
+United States, when they were British dependencies, and possessed of
+a thorough knowledge of the causes which led to the rebellion, and the
+means used to hasten the crisis, he was at home on all colonial
+topics; while his great experience of both monarchical and democratical
+governments, derived from a long residence in both, made him a most
+valuable authority on politics generally.
+
+Mr. Samuel Slick is a native of the same parish, and received his
+education from Mr. Hopewell. I first became acquainted with him while
+travelling in Nova Scotia. He was then a manufacturer and vendor of
+wooden clocks. My first impression of him was by no means favourable. He
+forced himself most unceremoniously into my company and conversation. I
+was disposed to shake him off, but could not. Talk he would, and as his
+talk was of that kind, which did not require much reply on my part, he
+took my silence for acquiescence, and talked on. I soon found that he
+was a character; and, as he knew every part of the lower colonies, and
+every body in them, I employed him as my guide.
+
+I have made at different times three several tours with him, the results
+of which I have given in three several series of a work, entitled the
+"Clockmaker, or the Sayings and Doings of Mr. Samuel Slick." Our last
+tour terminated at New York, where, in consequence of the celebrity he
+obtained from these "Sayings and Doings" he received the appointment of
+Attache to the American Legation at the Court of St. James's. The
+object of this work is to continue the record of his observations and
+proceedings in England.
+
+The third person of the party, gentle reader, is your humble servant,
+Thomas Poker, Esquire, a native of Nova Scotia, and a retired member of
+the Provincial bar. My name will seldom appear in these pages, as I am
+uniformly addressed by both my companions as "Squire," nor shall I have
+to perform the disagreeable task of "reporting my own speeches," for
+naturally taciturn, I delight in listening rather than talking, and
+modestly prefer the duties of an amanuensis, to the responsibilities of
+original composition.
+
+The last personage is Jube Japan, a black servant of the Attache.
+
+Such are the persons who composed the little party that embarked at New
+York, on board the Packet ship "Tyler," and sailed on the -- of May,
+184-, for England.
+
+The motto prefixed to this work
+
+   (Greek Text)
+
+sufficiently explains its character. Classes and not individuals have
+been selected for observation. National traits are fair subjects for
+satire or for praise, but personal peculiarities claim the privilege of
+exemption in right of that hospitality, through whose medium they have
+been alone exhibited. Public topics are public property; every body has
+a right to use them without leave and without apology. It is only when
+we quit the limits of this "common" and enter upon "private grounds,"
+that we are guilty of "a trespass." This distinction is alike obvious to
+good sense and right feeling. I have endeavoured to keep it constantly
+in view; and if at any time I shall be supposed to have erred (I say
+"supposed," for I am unconscious of having done so) I must claim the
+indulgence always granted to involuntary offences.
+
+Now the patience of my reader may fairly be considered a "private
+right." I shall, therefore, respect its boundaries and proceed at
+once with my narrative, having been already quite long enough about
+"uncorking a bottle."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II. A JUICY DAY IN THE COUNTRY.
+
+All our preparations for the voyage having been completed, we spent
+the last day at our disposal, in visiting Brooklyn. The weather was
+uncommonly fine, the sky being perfectly clear and unclouded; and though
+the sun shone out brilliantly, the heat was tempered by a cool, bracing,
+westwardly wind. Its influence was perceptible on the spirits of every
+body on board the ferry-boat that transported us across the harbour.
+
+"Squire," said Mr. Slick, aint this as pretty a day as you'll see atween
+this and Nova Scotia?--You can't beat American weather, when it chooses,
+in no part of the world I've ever been in yet. This day is a tip-topper,
+and it's the last we'll see of the kind till we get back agin, _I_ know.
+Take a fool's advice, for once, and stick to it, as long as there is any
+of it left, for you'll see the difference when you get to England. There
+never was so rainy a place in the univarse, as that, I don't think,
+unless it's Ireland, and the only difference atween them two is that it
+rains every day amost in England, and in Ireland it rains every day and
+every night too. It's awful, and you must keep out of a country-house in
+such weather, or you'll go for it; it will kill you, that's sartain. I
+shall never forget a juicy day I once spent in one of them dismal old
+places. I'll tell you how I came to be there.
+
+"The last time I was to England, I was a dinin' with our consul
+to Liverpool, and a very gentleman-like old man he was too; he was
+appointed by Washington, and had been there ever since our glorious
+revolution. Folks gave him a great name, they said he was a credit to
+us. Well, I met at his table one day an old country squire, that lived
+somewhere down in Shropshire, close on to Wales, and says he to me,
+arter cloth was off and cigars on, 'Mr. Slick,' says he, 'I'll be very
+glad to see you to Norman Manor,' (that was the place where he staid,
+when he was to home). 'If you will return with me I shall be glad
+to shew you the country in my neighbourhood, which is said to be
+considerable pretty.'
+
+"'Well,' says I, 'as I have nothin' above particular to see to, I don't
+care if I do go.'
+
+"So off we started; and this I will say, he was as kind as he cleverly
+knew how to be, and that is sayin' a great deal for a man that didn't
+know nothin' out of sight of his own clearin' hardly.
+
+"Now, when we got there, the house was chock full of company, and
+considerin' it warn't an overly large one, and that Britishers won't
+stay in a house, unless every feller gets a separate bed, it's a wonder
+to me, how he stowed away as many as he did. Says he, 'Excuse your
+quarters, Mr. Slick, but I find more company nor I expected here. In
+a day or two, some on 'em will be off, and then you shall be better
+provided.'
+
+"With that I was showed up a great staircase, and out o' that by a
+door-way into a narrer entry and from that into an old T like looking
+building, that stuck out behind the house. It warn't the common company
+sleepin' room, I expect, but kinder make shifts, tho' they was good
+enough too for the matter o' that; at all events I don't want no better.
+
+"Well, I had hardly got well housed a'most, afore it came on to rain, as
+if it was in rael right down airnest. It warn't just a roarin', racin',
+sneezin' rain like a thunder shower, but it kept a steady travellin'
+gait, up hill and down dale, and no breathin' time nor batin' spell.
+It didn't look as if it would stop till it was done, that's a fact. But
+still as it was too late to go out agin that arternoon, I didn't think
+much about it then. I hadn't no notion what was in store for me next
+day, no more nor a child; if I had, I'd a double deal sooner hanged
+myself, than gone brousing in such place as that, in sticky weather.
+
+"A wet day is considerable tiresome, any where or any way you can fix
+it; but it's wus at an English country house than any where else, cause
+you are among strangers, formal, cold, gallus polite, and as thick in
+the head-piece as a puncheon. You hante nothin' to do yourself and they
+never have nothin' to do; they don't know nothin' about America, and
+don't want to. Your talk don't interest them, and they can't talk to
+interest nobody but themselves; all you've got to do, is to pull out
+your watch and see how time goes; how much of the day is left, and then
+go to the winder and see how the sky looks, and whether there is any
+chance of holdin' up or no. Well, that time I went to bed a little
+airlier than common, for I felt considerable sleepy, and considerable
+strange too; so as soon as I cleverly could, I off and turned in.
+
+"Well I am an airly riser myself. I always was from a boy, so I waked up
+jist about the time when day ought to break, and was a thinkin' to get
+up; but the shutters was too, and it was as dark as ink in the room, and
+I heer'd it rainin' away for dear life. 'So,' sais I to myself, 'what
+the dogs is the use of gittin' up so airly? I can't get out and get a
+smoke, and I can't do nothin' here; so here goes for a second nap.' Well
+I was soon off agin in a most a beautiful of a snore, when all at once
+I heard thump-thump agin the shutter--and the most horrid noise I ever
+heerd since I was raised; it was sunthin' quite onairthly.
+
+"'Hallo!' says I to myself, 'what in natur is all this hubbub about?
+Can this here confounded old house be harnted? Is them spirits that's
+jabbering gibberish there, or is I wide awake or no?' So I sets right
+up on my hind legs in bed, rubs my eyes, opens my ears and listens
+agin, when whop went every shutter agin, with a dead heavy sound, like
+somethin' or another thrown agin 'em, or fallin' agin 'em, and then
+comes the unknown tongues in discord chorus like. Sais I, 'I know now,
+it's them cussed navigators. They've besot the house, and are a givin'
+lip to frighten folks. It's regular banditti.'
+
+"So I jist hops out of bed, and feels for my trunk, and outs with
+my talkin' irons, that was all ready loaded, pokes my way to the
+winder--shoves the sash up and outs with the shutter, ready to let slip
+among 'em. And what do you think it was?--Hundreds and hundreds of them
+nasty, dirty, filthy, ugly, black devils of rooks, located in the trees
+at the back eend of the house. Old Nick couldn't have slept near 'em;
+caw caw, caw, all mixt up together in one jumble of a sound, like
+"jawe."
+
+"You black, evil-lookin', foul-mouthed villains,' sais I, 'I'd like
+no better sport than jist to sit here, all this blessed day with these
+pistols, and drop you one arter another, _I_ know.' But they was pets,
+was them rooks, and of course like all pets, everlastin' nuisances to
+every body else.
+
+"Well, when a man's in a feeze, there's no more sleep that hitch; so I
+dresses and sits up; but what was I to do? It was jist half past four,
+and as it was a rainin' like every thing, I know'd breakfast wouldn't be
+ready till eleven o'clock, for nobody wouldn't get up if they could help
+it--they wouldn't be such fools; so there was jail for six hours and a
+half.
+
+"Well, I walked up and down the room, as easy as I could, not to waken
+folks; but three steps and a round turn makes you kinder dizzy, so I
+sits down again to chaw the cud of vexation.
+
+"'Ain't this a handsum fix?' sais I, 'but it sarves you right, what
+busniss had you here at all? you always was a fool, and always will be
+to the eend of the chapter.--'What in natur are you a scoldin' for?'
+sais I: 'that won't mend the matter; how's time? They must soon be a
+stirrin' now, I guess.' Well, as I am a livin' sinner, it was only five
+o'clock; 'oh dear,' sais I, 'time is like women and pigs the more you
+want it to go, the more it won't. What on airth shall I do?--guess, I'll
+strap my rasor.'
+
+"Well, I strapped and strapped away, until it would cut a single hair
+pulled strait up on eend out o' your head, without bendin' it--take it
+off slick. 'Now,' sais I, 'I'll mend my trowsers I tore, a goin' to
+see the ruin on the road yesterday; so I takes out Sister Sall's little
+needle-case, and sows away till I got them to look considerable jam
+agin; 'and then,' sais I, 'here's a gallus button off, I'll jist fix
+that,' and when that was done, there was a hole to my yarn sock, so I
+turned too and darned that.
+
+"'Now,' sais I, 'how goes it? I'm considerable sharp set. It must be
+gettin' tolerable late now.' It wanted a quarter to six. 'My! sakes,'
+sais I, 'five hours and a quarter yet afore feedin' time; well if that
+don't pass. What shall I do next?' 'I'll tell you what to do,' sais I,
+'smoke, that will take the edge of your appetite off, and if they don't
+like it, they may lump it; what business have they to keep them horrid
+screetchin' infarnal, sleepless rooks to disturb people that way?' Well,
+I takes a lucifer, and lights a cigar, and I puts my head up the chimbly
+to let the smoke off, and it felt good, I promise _you_. I don't know as
+I ever enjoyed one half so much afore. It had a rael first chop flavour
+had that cigar.
+
+"'When that was done,' sais I, 'What do you say to another?' 'Well, I
+don't know,' sais I, 'I should like it, that's a fact; but holdin' of
+my head crooked up chimbly that way, has a' most broke my neck; I've got
+the cramp in it like.'
+
+"So I sot, and shook my head first a one side and then the other, and
+then turned it on its hinges as far as it would go, till it felt about
+right, and then I lights another, and puts my head in the flue again.
+
+"Well, smokin' makes, a feller feel kinder good-natured, and I began to
+think it warn't quite so bad arter all, when whop went my cigar right
+out of my mouth into my bosom, atween the shirt and the skin, and burnt
+me like a gally nipper. Both my eyes was fill'd at the same time, and
+I got a crack on the pate from some critter or another that clawed and
+scratched my head like any thing, and then seemed to empty a bushel of
+sut on me, and I looked like a chimbly sweep, and felt like old Scratch
+himself. My smoke had brought down a chimbly swaller, or a martin, or
+some such varmint, for it up and off agin' afore I could catch it, to
+wring its infarnal neck off, that's a fact.
+
+"Well, here was somethin' to do, and no mistake: here was to clean and
+groom up agin' till all was in its right shape; and a pretty job it was,
+I tell you. I thought I never should get the sut out of my hair, and
+then never get it out of my brush again, and my eyes smarted so, they
+did nothing but water, and wink, and make faces. But I did; I worked on
+and worked on, till all was sot right once more.
+
+"'Now,' sais I, 'how's time?' 'half past seven,' sais I, 'and three
+hours and a half more yet to breakfast. Well,' sais I, 'I can't stand
+this--and what's more I won't: I begin to get my Ebenezer up, and feel
+wolfish. I'll ring up the handsum chamber-maid, and just fall to, and
+chaw her right up--I'm savagerous.'* 'That's cowardly,' sais I, 'call
+the footman, pick a quarrel with him and kick him down stairs, speak but
+one word to him, and let that be strong enough to skin the coon arter it
+has killed him, the noise will wake up folks _I_ know, and then we shall
+have sunthin' to eat.'
+
+[* Footnote: The word "savagerous" is not of "Yankee" but of "Western
+origin."--Its use in this place is best explained by the following
+extract from the Third Series of the Clockmaker. "In order that the
+sketch which I am now about to give may be fully understood, it may
+be necessary to request the reader to recollect that Mr. Slick is a
+_Yankee_, a designation the origin of which is now not very obvious,
+but it has been assumed by, and conceded by common consent to, the
+inhabitants of New England. It is a name, though sometimes satirically
+used, of which they have great reason to be proud, as it is descriptive
+of a most cultivated, intelligent, enterprising, frugal, and industrious
+population, who may well challenge a comparison with the inhabitants of
+any other country in the world; but it has only a local application.
+
+"The United States cover an immense extent of territory, and the
+inhabitants of different parts of the Union differ as widely in
+character, feelings, and even in appearance, as the people of different
+countries usually do. These sections differ also in dialect and in
+humour, as much as in other things, and to as great, if not a greater
+extent, than the natives of different parts of Great Britain vary from
+each other. It is customary in Europe to call all Americans, Yankees;
+but it is as much a misnomer as it would be to call all Europeans
+Frenchmen. Throughout these works it will be observed, that Mr. Slick's
+pronunciation is that of the Yankee, or an inhabitant of the _rural
+districts_ of New England. His conversation is generally purely so; but
+in some instances he uses, as his countrymen frequently do from choice,
+phrases which, though Americanisms, are not of Eastern origin. Wholly
+to exclude these would be to violate the usages of American life; to
+introduce them oftener would be to confound two dissimilar dialects,
+and to make an equal departure from the truth. Every section has its own
+characteristic dialect, a very small portion of which it has imparted
+to its neighbours. The dry, quaint humour of New England is occasionally
+found in the west, and the rich gasconade and exaggerative language of
+the west migrates not unfrequently to the east. This idiomatic
+exchange is perceptibly on the increase. It arises from the travelling
+propensities of the Americans, and the constant intercourse mutually
+maintained by the inhabitants of the different States. A droll or
+an original expression is thus imported and adopted, and, though not
+indigenous, soon becomes engrafted on the general stock of the language
+of the country."--3rd Series, p. 142.]
+
+"I was ready to bile right over, when as luck would have it, the rain
+stopt all of a sudden, the sun broke out o' prison, and I thought I
+never seed any thing look so green and so beautiful as the country
+did. 'Come,' sais I, 'now for a walk down the avenue, and a comfortable
+smoke, and if the man at the gate is up and stirrin', I will just pop in
+and breakfast with him and his wife. There is some natur there, but here
+it's all cussed rooks and chimbly swallers, and heavy men and fat
+women, and lazy helps, and Sunday every day in the week.' So I fills my
+cigar-case and outs into the passage.
+
+"But here was a fix! One of the doors opened into the great staircase,
+and which was it? 'Ay,' sais I, 'which is it, do you know?' 'Upon my
+soul, I don't know,' sais I; 'but try, it's no use to be caged up here
+like a painter, and out I will, that's a fact.'
+
+"So I stops and studies, 'that's it,' sais I, and I opens a door: it was
+a bedroom--it was the likely chambermaid's.
+
+"'Softly, Sir,' sais she, a puttin' of her finger on her lip, 'don't
+make no noise; Missus will hear you.'
+
+"'Yes,' sais I, 'I won't make no noise;' and I outs and shuts the door
+too arter me gently.
+
+"'What next?' sais I; 'why you fool, you,' sais I, 'why didn't you ax
+the sarvant maid, which door it was?' 'Why I was so conflastrigated,'
+sais I, 'I didn't think of it. Try that door,' well I opened another, it
+belonged to one o' the horrid hansum stranger galls that dined at table
+yesterday. When she seed me, she gave a scream, popt her head onder the
+clothes, like a terrapin, and vanished--well I vanished too.
+
+"'Ain't this too bad?' sais I; 'I wish I could open a man's door, I'd
+lick him out of spite; I hope I may be shot if I don't, and I doubled
+up my fist, for I didn't like it a spec, and opened another door--it was
+the housekeeper's. 'Come,' sais I, 'I won't be balked no more.' She sot
+up and fixed her cap. A woman never forgets the becomins.
+
+"'Anything I can do for you, Sir?' sais she, and she raelly did look
+pretty; all good natur'd people, it appears to me, do look so.
+
+"'Will you be so good as to tell me, which door leads to the staircase,
+Marm?' sais I.
+
+"'Oh, is that all?' sais she, (I suppose, she thort I wanted her to
+get up and get breakfast for me,) 'it's the first on the right, and she
+fixed her cap agin' and laid down, and I took the first on the right and
+off like a blowed out candle. There was the staircase. I walked down,
+took my hat, onbolted the outer door, and what a beautiful day was
+there. I lit my cigar, I breathed freely, and I strolled down the
+avenue.
+
+"The bushes glistened, and the grass glistened, and the air was sweet,
+and the birds sung, and there was natur' once more. I walked to the
+lodge; they had breakfasted had the old folks, so I chatted away with
+them for a considerable of a spell about matters and things in general,
+and then turned towards the house agin'. 'Hallo!' sais I, 'what's this?
+warn't that a drop of rain?' I looks up, it was another shower by Gosh.
+I pulls foot for dear life: it was tall walking you may depend, but the
+shower wins, (comprehens_ive_ as my legs be), and down it comes, as hard
+as all possest. 'Take it easy, Sam,' sais I, 'your flint is fixed; you
+are wet thro'--runnin' won't dry you,' and I settled down to a careless
+walk, quite desperate.
+
+"'Nothin' in natur', unless it is an Ingin, is so treacherous as the
+climate here. It jist clears up on purpose I do believe, to tempt you
+out without your umbreller, and jist as sure as you trust it and leave
+it to home, it clouds right up, and sarves you out for it--it does
+indeed. What a sight of new clothes I've spilte here, for the rain has a
+sort of dye in it. It stains so, it alters the colour of the cloth, for
+the smoke is filled with gas and all sorts of chemicals. Well, back I
+goes to my room agin' to the rooks, chimbly swallers, and all, leavin'
+a great endurin' streak of wet arter me all the way, like a cracked
+pitcher that leaks; onriggs, and puts on dry clothes from head to foot.
+
+"By this time breakfast is ready; but the English don't do nothin' like
+other folks; I don't know whether it's affectation, or bein' wrong in
+the head--a little of both I guess. Now where do you suppose the solid
+part of breakfast is, Squire? Why, it's on the side-board--I hope I may
+be shot if it ain't--well, the tea and coffee are on the table, to make
+it as onconvenient as possible.
+
+"Says I, to the lady of the house, as I got up to help myself, for I was
+hungry enough to make beef ache I know. 'Aunty,' sais I, 'you'll excuse
+me, but why don't you put the eatables on the table, or else put the
+tea on the side-board? They're like man and wife, they don't ought to be
+separated, them two.'
+
+"She looked at me, oh what a look of pity it was", as much as to
+say, 'Where have you been all your born days, not to know better nor
+that?--but I guess you don't know better in the States--how could you
+know any thing there?' But she only said it was the custom here, for she
+was a very purlite old woman, was Aunty.
+
+"Well sense is sense, let it grow where it will, and I guess we raise
+about the best kind, which is common sense, and I warn't to be put down
+with short metre, arter that fashion. So I tried the old man; sais I,
+'Uncle,' sais I, 'if you will divorce the eatables from the drinkables
+that way, why not let the servants come and tend. It's monstrous
+onconvenient and ridikilous to be a jumpin' up for everlastinly that
+way; you can't sit still one blessed minit.'
+
+"'We think it pleasant,' said he, 'sometimes to dispense with their
+attendance.'
+
+"'Exactly,' sais I, 'then dispense with sarvants at dinner, for when
+the wine is in, the wit is out.' (I said that to compliment him, for the
+critter had no wit in at no time,) 'and they hear all the talk. But at
+breakfast every one is only half awake, (especially when you rise so
+airly as you do in this country,' sais I, but the old critter couldn't
+see a joke, even if he felt it, and he didn't know I was a funnin'.)
+'Folks are considerably sharp set at breakfast,' sais I, 'and not very
+talkat_ive_. That's the right time to have sarvants to tend on you.'
+
+"'What an idea!' said he, and he puckered up his pictur, and the way he
+stared was a caution to an owl.
+
+"Well, we sot and sot till I was tired, so thinks I, 'what's next?' for
+it's rainin' agin as hard as ever.' So I took a turn in the study
+to sarch for a book, but there was nothin' there, but a Guide to the
+Sessions, Burn's Justice, and a book of London club rules, and two or
+three novels. He said he got books from the sarkilatin' library.
+
+"'Lunch is ready.'
+
+"'What, eatin' agin? My goody!' thinks I, 'if you are so fond of it, why
+the plague don't you begin airly? If you'd a had it at five o'clock this
+morning, I'd a done justice to it; now I couldn't touch it if I was to
+die.'
+
+"There it was, though. Help yourself, and no thanks, for there is no
+sarvants agin. The rule here is, no talk no sarvants--and when it's all
+talk, it's all sarvants.
+
+"Thinks I to myself, 'now, what shall I do till dinner-time, for it
+rains so there is no stirrin' out?--Waiter, where is eldest son?--he and
+I will have a game of billiards, I guess.'
+
+"'He is laying down, sir.'
+
+"'Shows his sense,' sais I, 'I see, he is not the fool I took him to be.
+If I could sleep in the day, I'de turn in too. Where is second son?'
+
+"'Left this mornin' in the close carriage, sir.'
+
+"'Oh cuss him, it was him then was it?'
+
+"'What, Sir?'
+
+"'That woke them confounded rooks up, out o' their fust nap, and kick't
+up such a bobbery. Where is the Parson?'
+
+"'Which one, Sir?'
+
+"'The one that's so fond of fishing.'
+
+"'Ain't up yet, Sir.'
+
+"'Well, the old boy, that wore breeches.'
+
+"Out on a sick visit to one of the cottages, Sir.'
+
+"When he comes in, send him to me, I'm shockin' sick.'
+
+"With that I goes to look arter the two pretty galls in the drawin'
+room; and there was the ladies a chatterin' away like any thing. The
+moment I came in it was as dumb as a quaker's meetin'. They all hauled
+up at once, like a stage-coach to an inn-door, from a hand-gallop to a
+stock still stand. I seed men warn't wanted there, it warn't the custom
+so airly, so I polled out o' that creek, starn first. They don't like
+men in the mornin', in England, do the ladies; they think 'em in the
+way.
+
+"'What on airth, shall I do?' says I, 'it's nothin' but rain, rain,
+rain--here in this awful dismal country. Nobody smokes, nobody talks,
+nobody plays cards, nobody fires at a mark, and nobody trades; only
+let me get thro' this juicy day, and I am done: let me get out of this
+scrape, and if I am caught agin, I'll give you leave to tell me of
+it, in meetin'. It tante pretty, I do suppose to be a jawin' with
+the butler, but I'll make an excuse for a talk, for talk comes kinder
+nateral to me, like suction to a snipe.'
+
+"'Waiter?'
+
+"'Sir.'
+
+"'Galls don't like to be tree'd here of a mornin' do they?'
+
+"'Sir.'
+
+"'It's usual for the ladies,' sais I, 'to be together in the airly part
+of the forenoon here, ain't it, afore the gentlemen jine them?'
+
+"'Yes, Sir.'
+
+"'It puts me in mind,' sais I, 'of the old seals down to Sable
+Island--you know where Sable Isle is, don't you?'
+
+"'Yes, Sir, it's in the cathedral down here.'
+
+"'No, no, not that, it's an island on the coast of Nova Scotia. You know
+where that is sartainly.'
+
+"'I never heard of it, Sir.'
+
+"'Well, Lord love you! you know what an old seal is?'
+
+"'Oh, yes, sir, I'll get you my master's in a moment.'
+
+And off he sot full chisel.
+
+"Cus him! he is as stupid as a rook, that crittur, it's no use to tell
+him a story, and now I think of it, I will go and smoke them black imps
+of darkness,--the rooks.'
+
+"So I goes up stairs, as slowly as I cleverly could, jist liftin' one
+foot arter another as if it had a fifty-six tied to it, on pupus to
+spend time; lit a cigar, opened the window nearest the rooks, and
+smoked, but oh the rain killed all the smoke in a minite; it didn't even
+make one on 'em sneeze. 'Dull musick this, Sam,' sais I, 'ain't it? Tell
+you what: I'll put on my ile-skin, take an umbreller and go and talk to
+the stable helps, for I feel as lonely as a catamount, and as dull as a
+bachelor beaver. So I trampousses off to the stable, and says I to the
+head man, 'A smart little hoss that,' sais I, 'you are a cleaning of: he
+looks like a first chop article that.'
+
+"'Y mae',' sais he.
+
+"'Hullo,' sais I, 'what in natur' is this? Is it him that can't speak
+English, or me that can't onderstand? for one on us is a fool, that's
+sartain. I'll try him agin.
+
+"So I sais to him, 'He looks,' sais I, 'as if he'd trot a considerable
+good stick, that horse,' sais I, 'I guess he is a goer.'
+
+"Y' mae, ye un trotter da,' sais he.
+
+"'Creation!' sais I, 'if this don't beat gineral trainin'. I have heerd
+in my time, broken French, broken Scotch, broken Irish, broken Yankee,
+broken Nigger, and broken Indgin; but I have hearn two pure gene_wine_
+languages to-day, and no mistake, rael rook, and rael Britton, and I
+don't exactly know which I like wus. It's no use to stand talkin' to
+this critter. Good-bye,' sais I.
+
+"Now what do you think he said? Why, you would suppose he'd say good-bye
+too, wouldn't you? Well, he didn't, nor nothin' like it, but he jist
+ups, and sais, 'Forwelloaugh,' he did, upon my soul. I never felt so
+stumpt afore in all my life. Sais I, 'Friend, here is half a dollar for
+you; it arn't often I'm brought to a dead stare, and when I am, I am
+willin' to pay for it.'
+
+"There's two languages, Squire, that's univarsal: the language of love,
+and the language of money; the galls onderstand the one, and the men
+onderstand the other, all the wide world over, from Canton to Niagara. I
+no sooner showed him the half dollar, than it walked into his pocket, a
+plaguy sight quicker than it will walk out, I guess.
+
+"Sais I, 'Friend, you've taken the consait out of me properly. Captain
+Hall said there warn't a man, woman, or child, in the whole of the
+thirteen united univarsal worlds of our great Republic, that could speak
+pure English, and I was a goin' to kick him for it; but he is right,
+arter all. There ain't one livin' soul on us can; I don't believe they
+ever as much as heerd it, for I never did, till this blessed day, and
+there are few things I haven't either see'd, or heern tell of. Yes,
+we can't speak English, do you take?' 'Dim comrag,' sais he, which in
+Yankee, means, "that's no English," and he stood, looked puzzled, and
+scratched his head, rael hansum, 'Dim comrag,' sais he.
+
+"Well, it made me larf spiteful. I felt kinder wicked, and as _I_ had
+a hat on, and I couldn't scratch my head, I stood jist like him, clown
+fashion, with my eyes wanderin' and my mouth wide open, and put my hand
+behind me, and scratched there; and I stared, and looked puzzled too,
+and made the same identical vacant face he did, and repeated arter him
+slowly, with another scratch, mocking him like, 'Dim comrag.'
+
+"Such a pair o' fools you never saw, Squire, since the last time you
+shaved afore a lookin' glass; and the stable boys larfed, and he larfed,
+and I larfed, and it was the only larf I had all that juicy day.
+
+"Well, I turns agin to the door; but it's the old story over
+again--rain, rain, rain; spatter, spatter, spatter,--'I can't stop
+here with these true Brittons,' sais I, 'guess I'll go and see the old
+Squire: he is in his study.'
+
+"So I goes there: 'Squire,' sais I, 'let me offer you a rael gene_wine_
+Havana cigar; I can recommend it to you.' He thanks me, he don't smoke,
+but plague take him, he don't say, 'If you are fond of smokin', pray
+smoke yourself.' And he is writing I won't interrupt him.
+
+"'Waiter, order me a post-chaise, to be here in the mornin', when the
+rooks wake.'
+
+"'Yes, Sir.'
+
+"Come, I'll try the women folk in the drawin'-room, agin'. Ladies don't
+mind the rain here; they are used to it. It's like the musk plant, arter
+you put it to your nose once, you can't smell it a second time. Oh what
+beautiful galls they be! What a shame it is to bar a feller out such a
+day as this. One on 'em blushes like a red cabbage, when she speaks to
+me, that's the one, I reckon, I disturbed this mornin'. Cuss the rooks!
+I'll pyson them, and that won't make no noise.
+
+"She shows me the consarvitery. 'Take care, Sir, your coat has caught
+this geranium,' and she onhitches it. 'Stop, Sir, you'll break this
+jilly flower,' and she lifts off the coat tail agin; in fact, it's so
+crowded, you can't squeeze along, scarcely, without a doin' of mischief
+somewhere or another.
+
+"Next time, she goes first, and then it's my turn, 'Stop, Miss,' sais
+I, 'your frock has this rose tree over,' and I loosens it; once
+more, 'Miss, this rose has got tangled,' and I ontangles it from her
+furbeloes.
+
+"I wonder what makes my hand shake so, and my heart it bumps so, it has
+bust a button off. If I stay in this consarvitery, I shan't consarve
+myself long, that's a fact, for this gall has put her whole team on, and
+is a runnin' me off the road. 'Hullo! what's that? Bell for dressin'
+for dinner.' Thank Heavens! I shall escape from myself, and from this
+beautiful critter, too, for I'm gettin' spoony, and shall talk silly
+presently.
+
+"I don't like to be left alone with a gall, it's plaguy apt to set me a
+soft sawderin' and a courtin'. There's a sort of nateral attraction like
+in this world. Two ships in a calm, are sure to get up alongside of each
+other, if there is no wind, and they have nothin' to do, but look at
+each other; natur' does it. "Well, even, the tongs and the shovel, won't
+stand alone long; they're sure to get on the same side of the fire,
+and be sociable; one on 'em has a loadstone and draws 'tother, that's
+sartain. If that's the case with hard-hearted things, like oak and
+iron, what is it with tender hearted things like humans? Shut me up in
+a 'sarvatory with a hansum gall of a rainy day, and see if I don't think
+she is the sweetest flower in it. Yes, I am glad it is the dinner-bell,
+for I ain't ready to marry yet, and when I am, I guess I must get a gall
+where I got my hoss, in Old Connecticut, and that state takes the shine
+off of all creation for geese, galls and onions, that's a fact.
+
+"Well dinner won't wait, so I ups agin once more near the rooks, to
+brush up a bit; but there it is agin the same old tune, the whole
+blessed day, rain, rain, rain. It's rained all day and don't talk of
+stoppin' nother. How I hate the sound, and how streaked I feel. I don't
+mind its huskin' my voice, for there is no one to talk to, but cuss it,
+it has softened my bones.
+
+"Dinner is ready; the rain has damped every body's spirits, and
+squenched 'em out; even champaign won't raise 'em agin; feedin' is
+heavy, talk is heavy, time is heavy, tea is heavy, and there ain't
+musick; the only thing that's light is a bed room candle--heavens and
+airth how glad I am this '_juicy day_' is over!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III. TYING A NIGHT-CAP.
+
+In the preceding sketch I have given Mr. Slick's account of the English
+climate, and his opinion of the dulness of a country house, as nearly
+as possible in his own words. It struck me at the time that they were
+exaggerated views; but if the weather were unpropitious, and the company
+not well selected, I can easily conceive, that the impression on his
+mind would be as strong and as unfavourable, as he has described it to
+have been.
+
+The climate of England is healthy, and, as it admits of much out-door
+exercise, and is not subject to any very sudden variation, or violent
+extremes of heat and cold, it may be said to be good, though not
+agreeable; but its great humidity is very sensibly felt by Americans and
+other foreigners accustomed to a dry atmosphere and clear sky. That Mr.
+Slick should find a rainy day in the country dull, is not to be wondered
+at; it is probable it would be so any where, to a man who had so few
+resources, within himself, as the Attache. Much of course depends on the
+inmates; and the company at the Shropshire house, to which he alludes,
+do not appear to have been the best calculated to make the state of the
+weather a matter of indifference to him.
+
+I cannot say, but that I have at times suffered a depression of spirits
+from the frequent, and sometimes long continued rains of this country;
+but I do not know that, as an ardent admirer of scenery, I would desire
+less humidity, if it diminished, as I fear it would, the extraordinary
+verdure and great beauty of the English landscape. With respect to my
+own visits at country houses, I have generally been fortunate in the
+weather, and always in the company; but I can easily conceive, that a
+man situated as Mr. Slick appears to have been with respect to both,
+would find the combination intolerably dull. But to return to my
+narrative.
+
+Early on the following day we accompanied our luggage to the wharf,
+where a small steamer lay to convey us to the usual anchorage ground
+of the packets, in the bay. We were attended by a large concourse of
+people. The piety, learning, unaffected simplicity, and kind disposition
+of my excellent friend, Mr. Hopewell, were well known and fully
+appreciated by the people of New York, who were anxious to testify
+their respect for his virtues, and their sympathy for his unmerited
+persecution, by a personal escort and a cordial farewell.
+
+"Are all those people going with us, Sam?" said he; "how pleasant it
+will be to have so many old friends on board, won't it?"
+
+"No, Sir," said the Attache, "they are only a goin' to see you on
+board--it is a mark of respect to you. They will go down to the "Tyler,"
+to take their last farewell of you."
+
+"Well, that's kind now, ain't it?" he replied. "I suppose they thought
+I would feel kinder dull and melancholy like, on leaving my native land
+this way; and I must say I don't feel jist altogether right neither.
+Ever so many things rise right up in my mind, not one arter another, but
+all together like, so that I can't take 'em one by one and reason 'em
+down, but they jist overpower me by numbers. You understand me, Sam,
+don't you?"
+
+"Poor old critter!" said Mr. Slick to me in an under-tone, "it's
+no wonder he is sad, is it? I must try to cheer him up, if I can.
+Understand you, minister!" said he, "to be sure I do. I have been that
+way often and often. That was the case when I was to Lowel factories,
+with the galls a taking of them off in the paintin' line. The dear
+little critters kept up such an everlastin' almighty clatter, clatter,
+clatter; jabber, jabber, jabber, all talkin' and chatterin' at once,
+you couldn't hear no blessed one of them; and they jist fairly stunned a
+feller. For nothin' in natur', unless it be perpetual motion, can equal
+a woman's tongue. It's most a pity we hadn't some of the angeliferous
+little dears with us too, for they do make the time pass quick, that's
+a fact. I want some on 'em to tie a night-cap for me to-night; I don't
+commonly wear one, but I somehow kinder guess, I intend to have one this
+time, and no mistake."
+
+"A night-cap, Sam!" said he; "why what on airth do you mean?"
+
+"Why, I'll tell you, minister," said he, "you recollect sister Sall,
+don't you."
+
+"Indeed, I do," said he, "and an excellent girl she is, a dutiful
+daughter, and a kind and affectionate sister. Yes, she is a good girl is
+Sally, a very good girl indeed; but what of her?"
+
+"Well, she was a most a beautiful critter, to brew a glass of whiskey
+toddy, as I ever see'd in all my travels was sister Sall, and I used to
+call that tipple, when I took it late, a night-cap; apple jack and
+white nose ain't the smallest part of a circumstance to it. On such an
+occasion as this, minister, when a body is leavin' the greatest nation
+atween the poles, to go among benighted, ignorant, insolent foreigners,
+you wouldn't object to a night-cap, now would you?"
+
+"Well, I don't know as I would, Sam," said he; "parting from friends
+whether temporally or for ever, is a sad thing, and the former is
+typical of the latter. No, I do not know as I would. We may use these
+things, but not abuse them. Be temperate, be moderate, but it is a sorry
+heart that knows no pleasure. Take your night-cap, Sam, and then commend
+yourself to His safe keeping, who rules the wind and the waves to Him
+who--"
+
+"Well then, minister, what a dreadful awful looking thing a night-cap is
+without a tassel, ain't it? Oh! you must put a tassel on it, and that
+is another glass. Well then, what is the use of a night-cap, if it has
+a tassel on it, but has no string, it will slip off your head the very
+first turn you take; and that is another glass you know. But one string
+won't tie a cap; one hand can't shake hands along with itself: you must
+have two strings to it, and that brings one glass more. Well then, what
+is the use of two strings if they ain't fastened? If you want to keep
+the cap on, it must be tied, that's sartain, and that is another go; and
+then, minister, what an everlastin' miserable stingy, ongenteel critter
+a feller must be, that won't drink to the health of the Female Brewer.
+Well, that's another glass to sweethearts and wives, and then turn in
+for sleep, and that's what I intend to do to-night. I guess I'll tie the
+night-cap this hitch, if I never do agin, and that's a fact."
+
+"Oh Sam, Sam," said Mr. Hopewell, "for a man that is wide awake and
+duly sober, I never saw one yet that talked such nonsense as you do. You
+said, you understood me, but you don't, one mite or morsel; but men
+are made differently, some people's narves operate on the brain
+sens_itively_ and give them exquisite pain or excessive pleasure; other
+folks seem as if they had no narves at all. You understand my words, but
+you don't enter into my feelings. Distressing images rise up in my mind
+in such rapid succession, I can't master them, but they master me. They
+come slower to you, and the moment you see their shadows before you,
+you turn round to the light, and throw these dark figures behind you.
+I can't do that; I could when I was younger, but I can't now. Reason
+is comparing two ideas, and drawing an inference. Insanity is, when you
+have such a rapid succession of ideas, that you can't compare them. How
+great then must be the pain when you are almost pressed into insanity
+and yet retain your reason? What is a broken heart? Is it death? I think
+it must be very like it, if it is not a figure of speech, for I feel
+that my heart is broken, and yet I am as sensitive to pain as ever.
+Nature cannot stand this suffering long. You say these good people have
+come to take their last farewell of me; most likely, Sam, it _is_ a last
+farewell. I am an old man now, I am well stricken in years; shall I ever
+live to see my native land again? I know not, the Lord's will be done!
+If I had a wish, I should desire to return to be laid with my kindred,
+to repose in death with those that were the companions of my earthly
+pilgrimage; but if it be ordered otherwise. I am ready to say with truth
+and meekness, 'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.'"
+
+When this excellent old man said that, Mr. Slick did not enter into his
+feelings--he did not do him justice. His attachment to and veneration
+for his aged pastor and friend were quite filial, and such as to do
+honour to his head and heart. Those persons who have made character a
+study, will all agree, that the cold exterior of the New England
+man arises from other causes than a coldness of feeling; much of the
+rhodomontade of the attache, addressed to Mr. Hopewell, was uttered for
+the kind purpose of withdrawing his attention from those griefs which
+preyed so heavily upon his spirits.
+
+"Minister," said Mr. Slick, "come, cheer up, it makes me kinder dismal
+to hear you talk so. When Captain McKenzie hanged up them three free and
+enlightened citizens of ours on board of the--Somers--he gave 'em three
+cheers. We are worth half a dozen dead men yet, so cheer up. Talk to
+these friends of ourn, they might think you considerable starch if
+you don't talk, and talk is cheap, it don't cost nothin' but breath, a
+scrape of your hind leg, and a jupe of the head, that's a fact."
+
+Having thus engaged him in conversation with his friends, we proceeded
+on board the steamer, which, in a short time, was alongside of the great
+"Liner." The day was now spent, and Mr. Hopewell having taken leave of
+his escort, retired to his cabin, very much overpowered by his feelings.
+
+Mr. Slick insisted on his companions taking a parting glass with him,
+and I was much amused with the advice given him by some of his young
+friends and admirers. He was cautioned to sustain the high character
+of the nation abroad; to take care that he returned as he went--a true
+American; to insist upon the possession of the Oregon Territory; to
+demand and enforce his right position in society; to negotiate the
+national loan; and above all never to accede to the right of search
+of slave-vessels; all which having been duly promised, they took an
+affectionate leave of each other, and we remained on board, intending to
+depart in the course of the following morning.
+
+As soon as they had gone, Mr. Slick ordered materials for brewing,
+namely: whisky, hot water, sugar and lemon; and having duly prepared in
+regular succession the cap, the tassel, and the two strings, filled his
+tumbler again, and said,
+
+"Come now, Squire, before we turn in, let us _tie the night-cap_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV. HOME AND THE SEA.
+
+At eleven o'clock the next day the Tyler having shaken out her pinions,
+and spread them to the breeze, commenced at a rapid rate her long and
+solitary voyage across the Atlantic. Object after object rose in rapid
+succession into distinct view, was approached and passed, until leaving
+the calm and sheltered waters of the bay, we emerged into the ocean, and
+involuntarily turned to look back upon the land we had left. Long after
+the lesser hills and low country had disappeared, a few ambitious peaks
+of the highlands still met the eye, appearing as if they had advanced
+to the very edge of the water, to prolong the view of us till the last
+moment.
+
+This coast is a portion of my native continent, for though not a subject
+of the Republic, I am still an American in its larger sense, having been
+born in a British province in this hemisphere. I therefore sympathised
+with the feelings of my two companions, whose straining eyes were still
+fixed on those dim and distant specks in the horizon.
+
+"There," said Mr. Slick, rising from his seat, "I believe we have seen
+the last of home till next time; and this I will say, it is the most
+glorious country onder the sun; travel where you will, you won't ditto
+it no where. It is the toploftiest place in all creation, ain't it,
+minister?"
+
+There was no response to all this bombast. It was evident he had not
+been heard; and turning to Mr. Hopewell, I observed his eyes were
+fixed intently on the distance, and his mind pre-occupied by painful
+reflexions, for tears were coursing after each other down his furrowed
+but placid cheek.
+
+"Squire," said Mr. Slick to me, "this won't do. We must not allow him to
+dwell too long on the thoughts of leaving home, or he'll droop like any
+thing, and p'raps, hang his head and fade right away. He is aged and
+feeble, and every thing depends on keeping up his spirits. An old plant
+must be shaded, well watered, and tended, or you can't transplant it no
+how, you can fix it, that's a fact. He won't give ear to me now, for
+he knows I can't talk serious, if I was to try; but he will listen to
+_you_. Try to cheer him up, and I will go down below and give you a
+chance."
+
+As soon as I addressed him, he started and said, "Oh! is it you, Squire?
+come and sit down by me, my friend. I can talk to _you_, and I assure
+you I take great pleasure in doing so I cannot always talk to Sam: he
+is excited now; he is anticipating great pleasure from his visit to
+England, and is quite boisterous in the exuberance of his spirits. I
+own I am depressed at times; it is natural I should be, but I shall
+endeavour not to be the cause of sadness in others. I not only like
+cheerfulness myself, but I like to promote it; it is a sign of an
+innocent mind, and a heart in peace with God and in charity with man.
+All nature is cheerful, its voice is harmonious, and its countenance
+smiling; the very garb in which it is clothed is gay; why then should
+man be an exception to every thing around him? Sour sectarians, who
+address our fears, rather than our affections, may say what they please,
+Sir, but mirth is not inconsistent with religion, but rather an evidence
+that our religion is right. If I appear dull, therefore, do not suppose
+it is because I think it necessary to be so, but because certain
+reflections are natural to me as a clergyman, as a man far advanced in
+years, and as a pilgrim who leaves his home at a period of life, when
+the probabilities are, he may not be spared to revisit it.
+
+"I am like yourself, a colonist by birth. At the revolution I took no
+part in the struggle; my profession and my habits both exempted me.
+Whether the separation was justifiable or not, either on civil or
+religious principles, it is not now necessary to discuss. It took place,
+however, and the colonies became a nation, and after due consideration,
+I concluded to dwell among mine own people. There I have continued, with
+the exception of one or two short journeys for the benefit of my health,
+to the present period. Parting with those whom I have known so long and
+loved so well, is doubtless a trial to one whose heart is still warm,
+while his nerves are weak, and whose affections are greater than his
+firmness. But I weary you with this egotism?"
+
+"Not at all," I replied, "I am both instructed and delighted by your
+conversation. Pray proceed, Sir."
+
+"Well it is kind, very kind of you," said he, "to say so. I will explain
+these sensations to you, and then endeavour never to allude to
+them again. America is my birth-place and my home. Home has two
+significations, a restricted one and an enlarged one; in its restricted
+sense, it is the place of our abode, it includes our social circle, our
+parents, children, and friends, and contains the living and the dead;
+the past and the present generations of our race. By a very natural
+process, the scene of our affections soon becomes identified with them,
+and a portion of our regard is transferred from animate to inanimate
+objects. The streams on which we sported, the mountains on which we
+clambered, the fields in which we wandered, the school where we were
+instructed, the church where we worshipped, the very bell whose pensive
+melancholy music recalled our wandering steps in youth, awaken in
+after-years many a tender thought, many a pleasing recollection, and
+appeal to the heart with the force and eloquence of love. The country
+again contains all these things, the sphere is widened, new objects are
+included, and this extension of the circle is love of country. It is
+thus that the nation is said in an enlarged sense, to be our home also.
+
+"This love of country is both natural and laudable: so natural, that to
+exclude a man from his country, is the greatest punishment that country
+can inflict upon him; and so laudable, that when it becomes a principle
+of action, it forms the hero and the patriot. How impressive, how
+beautiful, how dignified was the answer of the Shunamite woman to
+Elisha, who in his gratitude to her for her hospitality and kindness,
+made her a tender of his interest at court. 'Wouldst thou,' said he, 'be
+spoken for to the king, or to the captain of the host?'--What an offer
+was that, to gratify her ambition or flatter her pride!--'I dwell,' said
+she, 'among mine own people.' What a characteristic answer! all history
+furnishes no parallel to it.
+
+"I too dwell 'among my own people:' my affections are there, and there
+also is the sphere of my duties; and if I am depressed by the thoughts
+of parting from 'my people,' I will do you the justice to believe, that
+you would rather bear with its effects, than witness the absence of such
+natural affection.
+
+"But this is not the sole cause: independently of some afflictions of
+a clerical nature in my late parish, to which it is not necessary to
+allude, the contemplation of this vast and fathomless ocean, both
+from its novelty and its grandeur, overwhelms me. At home I am fond
+of tracing the Creator in his works. From the erratic comet in the
+firmament, to the flower that blossoms in the field; in all animate, and
+inanimate matter; in all that is animal, vegetable or mineral, I see His
+infinite wisdom, almighty power, and everlasting glory.
+
+"But that Home is inland; I have not beheld the sea now for many years.
+I never saw it without emotion; I now view it with awe. What an emblem
+of eternity!--Its dominion is alone reserved to Him, who made it.
+Changing yet changeless--ever varying, yet always the same. How weak
+and powerless is man! how short his span of life, when he is viewed
+in connexion with the sea! He has left no trace upon it--it will not
+receive the impress of his hands; it obeys no laws, but those imposed
+upon it by Him, who called it into existence; generation after
+generation has looked upon it as we now do--and where are they? Like
+yonder waves that press upon each other in regular succession, they have
+passed away for ever; and their nation, their language, their temples
+and their tombs have perished with them. But there is the Undying one.
+When man was formed, the voice of the ocean was heard, as it now is,
+speaking of its mysteries, and proclaiming His glory, who alone lifteth
+its waves or stilleth the rage thereof.
+
+"And yet, my dear friend, for so you must allow me to call you, awful as
+these considerations are, which it suggests, who are they that go down
+to the sea in ships and occupy their business in great waters? The
+sordid trader, and the armed and mercenary sailor: gold or blood is
+their object, and the fear of God is not always in them. Yet the sea
+shall give up its dead, as well as the grave; and all shall--
+
+"But it is not my intention to preach to you. To intrude serious topics
+upon our friends at all times, has a tendency to make both ourselves and
+our topics distasteful. I mention these things to you, not that they are
+not obvious to you and every other right-minded man, or that I think
+I can clothe them in more attractive language, or utter them with more
+effect than others; but merely to account for my absence of mind and
+evident air of abstraction. I know my days are numbered, and in the
+nature of things, that those that are left, cannot be many.
+
+"Pardon me, therefore, I pray you, my friend; make allowances for an old
+man, unaccustomed to leave home, and uncertain whether he shall ever be
+permitted to return to it. I feel deeply and sensibly your kindness in
+soliciting my company on this tour, and will endeavour so to regulate
+my feelings as not to make you regret your invitation. I shall not again
+recur to these topics, or trouble you with any further reflections 'on
+Home and the Sea.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V. T'OTHER EEND OF THE GUN.
+
+"Squire," said Mr. Hopewell, one morning when we were alone on the
+quarter-deck, "sit down by me, if you please. I wish to have a little
+private conversation with you. I am a good deal concerned about Sam. I
+never liked this appointment he has received: neither his education, his
+habits, nor his manners have qualified him for it. He is fitted for a
+trader and for nothing else. He looks upon politics as he does upon his
+traffic in clocks, rather as profitable to himself than beneficial to
+others. Self is predominant with him. He overrates the importance of
+his office, as he will find when he arrives in London; but what is still
+worse, he overrates the importance of the opinions of others regarding
+the States.
+
+"He has been reading that foolish book of Cooper's 'Gleanings in
+Europe,' and intends to shew fight, he says. He called my attention,
+yesterday, to this absurd passage, which he maintains is the most manly
+and sensible thing that Cooper ever wrote: 'This indifference to the
+feelings of others, is a dark spot on the national manners of England.
+The only way to put it down, is to become belligerent yourself, by
+introducing Pauperism, Radicalism, Ireland, the Indies, or some other
+sore point. Like all who make butts of others, they do not manifest
+the proper forbearance when the tables are turned. Of this, I have had
+abundance of proof in my own experience. Sometimes their remarks are
+absolutely rude, and personally offensive, as a disregard of one's
+national character, is a disrespect to his principles; but as personal
+quarrels on such grounds are to be avoided, I have uniformly retorted in
+kind, if there was the smallest opening for such retaliation."
+
+"Now, every gentleman in the States repudiates such sentiments as these.
+My object in mentioning the subject to you, is to request the favour
+of you, to persuade Sam not to be too sensitive on these topics; not
+to take offence, where it is not intended; and, above all, rather
+to vindicate his nationality by his conduct, than to justify those
+aspersions, by his intemperate behaviour. But here he comes; I shall
+withdraw and leave you together."
+
+Fortunately, Mr. Slick commenced talking upon a topic, which naturally
+led to that to which Mr. Hopewell had wished me to direct his attention.
+
+"Well, Squire," said he, "I am glad too, you are a goin' to England
+along with me: we will take a rise out of John Bull, won't we?--We've
+hit Blue-nose and Brother Jonathan both pretty considerable tarnation
+hard, and John has split his sides with larfter. Let's tickle him now,
+by feeling his own short ribs, and see how he will like it; we'll
+soon see whose hide is the thickest, hisn or ourn, won't we? Let's see
+whether he will say chee, chee, chee, when he gets to the t'other eend
+of the gun."
+
+"What is the meaning of that saying?" I asked. "I never heard it
+before."
+
+"Why," said he, "when I was a considerable of a grown up saplin of a
+boy to Slickville, I used to be a gunnin' for everlastinly amost in our
+hickory woods, a shootin' of squirrels with a rifle, and I got amazin'
+expart at it. I could take the head off of them chatterin' little imps,
+when I got a fair shot at 'em with a ball, at any reasonable distance,
+a'most in nine cases out of ten.
+
+"Well, one day I was out as usual, and our Irish help Paddy Burke was
+along with me, and every time he see'd me a drawin' of the bead fine
+on 'em, he used to say, 'Well, you've an excellent gun entirely, Master
+Sam. Oh by Jakers! the squirrel has no chance with that gun, it's an
+excellent one entirely.'
+
+"At last I got tired a hearin' of him a jawin' so for ever and a day
+about the excellent gun entirely; so, sais I, 'You fool you, do you
+think it's the gun that does it _entirely_ as you say; ain't there a
+little dust of skill in it? Do you think you could fetch one down?'
+
+"'Oh, it's a capital gun entirely,' said he.
+
+"'Well,' said I, 'if it 'tis, try it now, and see what sort of a fist
+you'll make of it.'
+
+"So Paddy takes the rifle, lookin' as knowin' all the time as if he
+had ever seed one afore. Well, there was a great red squirrel, on the
+tip-top of a limb, chatterin' away like any thing, chee, chee, chee,
+proper frightened; he know'd it warn't me, that was a parsecutin'
+of him, and he expected he'd be hurt. They know'd me, did the little
+critters, when they seed me, and they know'd I never had hurt one on
+'em, my balls never givin' 'em a chance to feel what was the matter
+of them; but Pat they didn't know, and they see'd he warn't the man
+to handle 'old Bull-Dog.' I used to call my rifle Bull-Dog, cause she
+always bit afore she barked.
+
+"Pat threw one foot out astarn, like a skullin' oar, and then bent
+forrards like a hoop, and fetched the rifle slowly up to the line, and
+shot to the right eye. Chee, chee, chee, went the squirrel. He see'd it
+was wrong. 'By the powers!' sais Pat, 'this is a left-handed boot,' and
+he brought the gun to the other shoulder, and then shot to his left eye.
+'Fegs!' sais Pat, 'this gun was made for a squint eye, for I can't get
+a right strait sight of the critter, either side.' So I fixt it for him
+and told him which eye to sight by. 'An excellent gun entirely,' sais
+Pat, 'but it tante made like the rifles we have.'
+
+"Ain't they strange critters, them Irish, Squire? That feller never
+handled a rifle afore in all his born days; but unless it was to a
+priest, he wouldn't confess that much for the world. They are as bad as
+the English that way; they always pretend they know every thing.
+
+"'Come, Pat,' sais I, 'blaze away now.' Back goes the hind leg agin, up
+bends the back, and Bull-Dog rises slowly to his shoulder; and then he
+stared, and stared, until his arm shook like palsy. Chee, chee, chee,
+went the squirrel agin, louder than ever, as much as to say, 'Why the
+plague don't you fire? I'm not a goin' to stand here all day, for you
+this way,' and then throwin' his tail over his back, he jumped on to the
+next branch.
+
+"'By the piper that played before Moses!' sais Pat, 'I'll stop your
+chee, chee, cheein' for you, you chatterin' spalpeen of a devil, you'.
+So he ups with the rifle agin, takes a fair aim at him, shuts both eyes,
+turns his head round, and fires; and "Bull-Dog," findin' he didn't know
+how to hold her tight to the shoulder, got mad, and kicked him head over
+heels, on the broad of his back. Pat got up, a makin' awful wry faces,
+and began to limp, to show how lame his shoulder was, and to rub his
+arm, to see if he had one left, and the squirrel ran about the tree
+hoppin' mad, hollerin' out as loud as it could scream, chee, chee, chee.
+
+"'Oh bad luck to you,' sais Pat, 'if you had a been at t'other eend of
+the gun,' and he rubbed his shoulder agin, and cried like a baby, 'you
+wouldn't have said chee, chee, chee, that way, I know.'
+
+"Now when your gun, Squire, was a knockin' over Blue-nose, and makin' a
+proper fool of him, and a knockin' over Jonathan, and a spilin' of his
+bran-new clothes, the English sung out chee, chee, chee, till all was
+blue agin. You had an excellent gun entirely then: let's see if they
+will sing out chee, chee, chee, now, when we take a shot at _them_. Do
+you take?" and he laid his thumb on his nose, as if perfectly satisfied
+with the application of his story. "Do you take, Squire? you have an
+excellent gun entirely, as Pat says. It's what I call puttin' the leake
+into 'em properly. If you had a written this book fust, the English
+would have said your gun was no good; it wouldn't have been like the
+rifles they had seen. Lord, I could tell you stories about the English,
+that would make even them cryin' devils the Mississippi crocodiles
+laugh, if they was to hear 'em."
+
+"Pardon me, Mr. Slick," I said, "this is not the temper with which you
+should visit England."
+
+"What is the temper," he replied with much warmth, "that they visit us
+in? Cuss 'em! Look at Dickens; was there ever a man made so much of,
+except La Fayette? And who was Dickens? Not a Frenchman that is a friend
+to us, not a native that has a claim on us; not a colonist, who, though
+English by name is still an American by birth, six of one and half a
+dozen of t'other, and therefore a kind of half-breed brother. No! he was
+a cussed Britisher; and what is wus, a British author; and yet, because
+he was a man of genius, because genius has the 'tarnal globe for its
+theme, and the world for its home, and mankind for its readers, and
+bean't a citizen of this state or that state, but a native of the
+univarse, why we welcomed him, and feasted him, and leveed him, and
+escorted him, and cheered him, and honoured him, did he honour us? What
+did he say of us when he returned? Read his book.
+
+"No, don't read his book, for it tante worth readin'. Has he said one
+word of all that reception in his book? that book that will be read,
+translated, and read agin all over Europe--has he said one word of that
+reception? Answer me that, will you? Darned the word, his memory was
+bad; he lost it over the tafrail when he was sea-sick. But his notebook
+was safe under lock and key, and the pigs in New York, and the chap the
+rats eat in jail, and the rough man from Kentucky, and the entire raft
+of galls emprisoned in one night, and the spittin' boxes and all that
+stuff, warn't trusted to memory, it was noted down, and printed.
+
+"But it tante no matter. Let any man give me any sarce in England, about
+my country, or not give me the right _po_-sition in society, as Attache
+to our Legation, and, as Cooper says, I'll become belligerent, too, I
+will, I snore. I can snuff a candle with a pistol as fast as you can
+light it; hang up an orange, and I'll first peel it with ball and
+then quarter it. Heavens! I'll let daylight dawn through some o' their
+jackets, I know.
+
+"Jube, you infarnal black scoundrel, you odoriferous nigger you, what's
+that you've got there?"
+
+"An apple, massa."
+
+"Take off your cap and put that apple on your head, then stand sideways
+by that port-hole, and hold steady, or you might stand a smart chance to
+have your wool carded, that's all."
+
+Then taking a pistol out of the side-pocket of his mackintosh, he
+deliberately walked over to the other side of the deck, and examined his
+priming.
+
+"Good heavens, Mr. Slick!" said I in great alarm, "what are you about?"
+
+"I am goin'," he said with the greatest coolness, but at the same time
+with equal sternness, "to bore a hole through that apple, Sir."
+
+"For shame! Sir," I said. "How can you think of such a thing? Suppose
+you were to miss your shot, and kill that unfortunate boy?"
+
+"I won't suppose no such thing, Sir. I can't miss it. I couldn't miss
+it if I was to try. Hold your head steady, Jube--and if I did, it's no
+great matter. The onsarcumcised Amalikite ain't worth over three hundred
+dollars at the furthest, that's a fact; and the way he'd pyson a shark
+ain't no matter. Are you ready, Jube?"
+
+"Yes, massa."
+
+"You shall do no such thing, Sir," I said, seizing his arm with both my
+hands. "If you attempt to shoot at that apple, I shall hold no further
+intercourse with you. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Sir."
+
+"Ky! massa," said Jube, "let him fire, Sar; he no hurt Jube; he no
+foozle de hair. I isn't one mossel afeerd. He often do it, jist to keep
+him hand in, Sar. Massa most a grand shot, Sar. He take off de ear oh de
+squirrel so slick, he neber miss it, till he go scratchin' his head. Let
+him appel hab it, massa."
+
+"Oh, yes," said Mr. Slick, "he is a Christian is Jube, he is as good as
+a white Britisher: same flesh, only a leetle, jist a leetle darker; same
+blood, only not quite so old, ain't quite so much tarter on the bottle
+as a lord's has; oh him and a Britisher is all one brother--oh by all
+means--
+
+   Him fader's hope--him mudder's joy,
+   Him darlin little nigger boy.
+
+You'd better cry over him, hadn't you. Buss him, call him brother, hug
+him, give him the "Abolition" kiss, write an article on slavery, like
+Dickens; marry him to a white gall to England, get him a saint's darter
+with a good fortin, and well soon see whether her father was a talkin'
+cant or no, about niggers. Cuss 'em, let any o' these Britishers give
+me slack, and I'll give 'em cranberry for their goose, I know. I'd jump
+right down their throat with spurs on, and gallop their sarce out."
+
+"Mr. Slick I've done; I shall say no more; we part, and part for ever. I
+had no idea whatever, that a man, whose whole conduct has evinced a
+kind heart, and cheerful disposition, could have entertained such
+a revengeful spirit, or given utterance to such unchristian and
+uncharitable language, as you have used to-day. We part"--
+
+"No, we don't," said he; "don't kick afore you are spurred. I guess I
+have feelins as well as other folks have, that's a fact; one can't help
+being ryled to hear foreigners talk this way; and these critters are
+enough to make a man spotty on the back. I won't deny I've got some
+grit, but I ain't ugly. Pat me on the back and I soon cool down, drop in
+a soft word and I won't bile over; but don't talk big, don't threaten,
+or I curl directly."
+
+"Mr. Slick," said I, "neither my countrymen, the Nova Scotians, nor your
+friends, the Americans, took any thing amiss, in our previous remarks,
+because, though satirical, they were good natured. There was nothing
+malicious in them. They were not made for the mere purpose of shewing
+them up, but were incidental to the topic we were discussing, and their
+whole tenor shewed that while "we were alive to the ludicrous, we fully
+appreciated, and properly valued their many excellent and sterling
+qualities. My countrymen, for whose good I published them, had the most
+reason to complain, for I took the liberty to apply ridicule to them
+with no sparing hand. They understood the motive, and joined in the
+laugh, which was raised at their expense. Let us treat the English in
+the same style; let us keep our temper. John Bull is a good-natured
+fellow, and has no objection to a joke, provided it is not made the
+vehicle of conveying an insult. Don't adopt Cooper's maxims;
+nobody approves of them, on either side of the water; don't be too
+thin-skinned. If the English have been amused by the sketches their
+tourists have drawn of, the Yankees, perhaps the Americans may laugh
+over our sketches of the English. Let us make both of them smile, if we
+can, and endeavour to offend neither. If Dickens omitted to mention the
+festivals that were given in honour of his arrival in the States, he
+was doubtless actuated by a desire to avoid the appearance of personal
+vanity. A man cannot well make himself the hero of his own book."
+
+"Well, well," said he, "I believe the black ox did tread on my toe that
+time. I don't know but what you're right. Soft words are good enough in
+their way, but still they butter no parsnips, as the sayin' is. John may
+be a good-natured critter, tho' I never see'd any of it yet; and he may
+be fond of a joke, and p'raps is, seein' that he haw-haws considerable
+loud at his own. Let's try him at all events. We'll soon see how he
+likes other folks' jokes; I have my scruple about him, I must say. I am
+dubersome whether he will say 'chee, chee, chee' when he gets 'T'other
+eend of the gun.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI. SMALL POTATOES AND FEW IN A HILL.
+
+"Pray Sir," said one of my fellow passengers, "can you tell me why the
+Nova Scotians are called 'Blue-noses?'"
+
+"It is the name of a potatoe," said I, "which they produce in great
+perfection, and boast to be the best in the world. The Americans have,
+in consequence, given them the nick-name of "Blue-noses.'"
+
+"And now," said Mr. Slick," as you have told the entire stranger, _who_
+a Blue-nose is, I'll jist up and tell him _what_ he is.
+
+"One day, Stranger, I was a joggin' along into Windsor on Old Clay, on
+a sort of butter and eggs' gait (for a fast walk on a journey tires a
+horse considerable), and who should I see a settin' straddle legs "on
+the fence, but Squire Gabriel Soogit, with his coat off, a holdin' of
+a hoe in one hand, and his hat in t'other, and a blowin' like a porpus
+proper tired.
+
+"'Why, Squire Gabe,' sais I, 'what is the matter of you? you look as if
+you couldn't help yourself; who is dead and what is to pay now, eh?'
+
+"'Fairly beat out,' said he, 'I am shockin' tired. I've been hard at
+work all the mornin'; a body has to stir about considerable smart in
+this country, to make a livin', I tell you.'
+
+"I looked over the fence, and I seed he had hoed jist ten hills of
+potatoes, and that's all. Fact I assure you.
+
+"Sais he, 'Mr. Slick, tell you what, _of all the work I ever did in my
+life I like hoein' potatoes the best, and I'd rather die than do that,
+it makes my back ache so_."
+
+"'Good airth" and seas,' sais I to myself, 'what a parfect pictur of a
+lazy man that is! How far is it to Windsor?'
+
+"'Three miles,' sais he. I took out my pocket-book purtendin' to write
+down the distance, but I booked his sayin' in my way-bill.
+
+"Yes, _that_ is a _Blue-nose_; is it any wonder, Stranger, he _is small
+potatoes and few in a hill_?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII. A GENTLEMAN AT LARGE.
+
+It is not my intention to record any of the ordinary incidents of a sea
+voyage: the subject is too hackneyed and too trite; and besides,
+when the topic is seasickness, it is infectious and the description
+nauseates. _Hominem pagina nostra sapit_. The proper study of mankind
+is man; human nature is what I delight in contemplating; I love to trace
+out and delineate the springs of human action.
+
+Mr. Slick and Mr. Hopewell are both studies. The former is a perfect
+master of certain chords; He has practised upon them, not for
+philosophical, but for mercenary purposes. He knows the depth,
+and strength, and tone of vanity, curiosity, pride, envy, avarice,
+superstition, nationality, and local and general prejudice. He has
+learned the effect of these, not because they contribute to make him
+wiser, but because they make him richer; not to enable him to regulate
+his conduct in life, but to promote and secure the increase of his
+trade.
+
+Mr. Hopewell, on the contrary, has studied the human heart as a
+philanthropist, as a man whose business it was to minister to it,
+to cultivate and improve it. His views are more sound and more
+comprehensive than those of the other's, and his objects are more noble.
+They are both extraordinary men.
+
+They differed, however, materially in their opinion of England and its
+institutions. Mr. Slick evidently viewed them with prejudice. Whether
+this arose from the supercilious manner of English tourists in America,
+or from the ridicule they have thrown upon Republican society, in the
+books of travels they have published, after their return to Europe,
+I could not discover; but it soon became manifest to me, that Great
+Britain did not stand so high in his estimation, as the colonies did.
+
+Mr. Hopewell, on the contrary, from early associations, cherished a
+feeling of regard and respect for England; and when his opinion was
+asked, he always gave it with great frankness and impartiality. When
+there was any thing he could not approve of, it appeared to be a subject
+of regret to him; whereas, the other seized upon it at once as a matter
+of great exultation. The first sight we had of land naturally called out
+their respective opinions.
+
+As we were pacing the deck speculating upon the probable termination of
+our voyage, Cape Clear was descried by the look-out on the mast-head.
+
+"Hallo! what's that? why if it ain't land ahead, as I'm alive!" said
+Mr. Slick. "Well, come this is pleasant too, we have made amost an
+everlastin' short voyage of it, hante we; and I must say I like land
+quite as well as sea, in a giniral way, arter all; but, Squire, here is
+the first Britisher. That critter that's a clawin' up the side of the
+vessel like a cat, is the pilot: now do for goodness gracious sake, jist
+look at him, and hear him."
+
+"What port?"
+
+"Liverpool."
+
+"Keep her up a point."
+
+"Do you hear that, Squire? that's English, or what we used to call to
+singing school short metre. The critter don't say a word, even as much
+as 'by your leave'; but jist goes and takes his post, and don't ask the
+name of the vessel, or pass the time o' day with the Captin. That ain't
+in the bill, it tante paid for that; if it was, he'd off cap, touch
+the deck three times with his forehead, and '_Slam_' like a Turk to his
+Honour the Skipper.
+
+"There's plenty of civility here to England if you pay for it: you can
+buy as much in five minits, as will make you sick for a week; but if you
+don't pay for it, you not only won't get it, but you get sarce instead
+of it, that is if you are fool enough to stand and have it rubbed in.
+They are as cold as Presbyterian charity, and mean enough to put the sun
+in eclipse, are the English. They hante set up the brazen image here
+to worship, but they've got a gold one, and that they do adore and no
+mistake; it's all pay, pay, pay; parquisite, parquisite, parquisite;
+extortion, extortion, extortion. There is a whole pack of yelpin' devils
+to your heels here, for everlastinly a cringin', fawnin' and coaxin',
+or snarlin', grumblin' or bullyin' you out of your money. There's the
+boatman, and tide-waiter, and porter, and custom-er, and truck man as
+soon as you land; and the sarvant-man, and chamber-gall, and boots, and
+porter again to the inn. And then on the road, there is trunk-lifter,
+and coachman, and guard, and beggar-man, and a critter that opens the
+coach door, that they calls a waterman, cause he is infarnal dirty, and
+never sees water. They are jist like a snarl o' snakes, their name is
+legion and there ain't no eend to 'em.
+
+"The only thing you get for nothin' here is rain and smoke, the rumatiz,
+and scorny airs. If you could buy an Englishman at what he was worth,
+and sell him at his own valiation, he would realise as much as a nigger,
+and would be worth tradin' in, that's a fact; but as it is he ain't
+worth nothin', there is no market for such critters, no one would buy
+him at no price. A Scotchman is wus, for he is prouder and meaner.
+Pat ain't no better nother; he ain't proud, cause he has a hole in his
+breeches and another in his elbow, and he thinks pride won't patch 'em,
+and he ain't mean cause he hante got nothin' to be mean with. Whether it
+takes nine tailors to make a man, I can't jist exactly say, but this
+I will say, and take my davy of it too, that it would take three such
+goneys as these to make a pattern for one of our rael genu_wine_ free
+and enlightened citizens, and then I wouldn't swap without large boot,
+I tell you. Guess I'll go, and pack up my fixing and have 'em ready to
+land."
+
+He now went below, leaving Mr. Hopewell and myself on the deck. All
+this tirade of Mr. Slick was uttered in the hearing of the pilot, and
+intended rather for his conciliation, than my instruction. The pilot was
+immoveable; he let the cause against his country go "by default," and
+left us to our process of "inquiry;" but when Mr. Slick was in the
+act of descending to the cabin, he turned and gave him a look of
+admeasurement, very similar to that which a grazier gives an ox; a look
+which estimates the weight and value of the animal, and I am bound to
+admit, that the result of that "sizing or laying" as it is technically
+called, was by no means favourable to the Attache".
+
+Mr. Hopewell had evidently not attended to it; his eye was fixed on
+the bold and precipitous shore of Wales, and the lofty summits of the
+everlasting hills, that in the distance, aspired to a companionship with
+the clouds. I took my seat at a little distance from him and surveyed
+the scene with mingled feelings of curiosity and admiration, until a
+thick volume of sulphureous smoke from the copper furnaces of Anglesey
+intercepted our view.
+
+"Squire," said he, "it is impossible for us to contemplate this country,
+that now lies before us, without strong emotion. It is our fatherland.
+I recollect when I was a colonist, as you are, we were in the habit of
+applying to it, in common with Englishmen, that endearing appellation
+"Home," and I believe you still continue to do so in the provinces.
+Our nursery tales, taught our infant lips to lisp in English, and the
+ballads, that first exercised our memories, stored the mind with the
+traditions of our forefathers; their literature was our literature,
+their religion our religion, their history our history. The battle of
+Hastings, the murder of Becket, the signature of Runymede, the execution
+at Whitehall; the divines, the poets, the orators, the heroes, the
+martyrs, each and all were familiar to us.
+
+"In approaching this country now, after a lapse of many, many years,
+and approaching it too for the last time, for mine eyes shall see it no
+more, I cannot describe to you the feelings that agitate my heart. I go
+to visit the tombs of my ancestors; I go to my home, and my home knoweth
+me no more. Great and good, and brave and free are the English; and may
+God grant that they may ever continue so!"
+
+"I cordially join in that prayer, Sir," said I; "you have a country
+of your own. The old colonies having ripened into maturity, formed a
+distinct and separate family, in the great community of mankind. You are
+now a nation of yourselves, and your attachment to England, is of course
+subordinate to that of your own country; you view it as the place that
+was in days of yore the home of your forefathers; we regard it as the
+paternal estate, continuing to call it 'Home' as you have just now
+observed. We owe it a debt of gratitude that not only cannot be repaid,
+but is too great for expression. Their armies protect us within, and
+their fleets defend us, and our commerce without. Their government is
+not only paternal and indulgent, but is wholly gratuitous. We neither
+pay these forces, nor feed them, nor clothe them. We not only raise no
+taxes, but are not expected to do so. The blessings of true religion are
+diffused among us, by the pious liberality of England, and a collegiate
+establishment at Windsor, supported by British friends, has for years
+supplied the Church, the Bar and the Legislature with scholars and
+gentlemen. Where the national funds have failed, private contribution
+has volunteered its aid, and means are never wanting for any useful or
+beneficial object.
+
+"Our condition is a most enviable one. The history of the world has no
+example to offer of such noble disinterestedness and such liberal rule,
+as that exhibited by Great Britain to her colonies. If the policy of the
+Colonial Office is not always good (which I fear is too much to say)
+it is ever liberal; and if we do not mutually derive all the benefit
+we might from the connexion, _we_, at least, reap more solid advantages
+than we have a right to expect, and more, I am afraid, than our conduct
+always deserves. I hope the Secretary for the Colonies may have the
+advantage of making your acquaintance, Sir. Your experience is so great,
+you might give him a vast deal of useful information, which he could
+obtain from no one else.
+
+"Minister," said Mr. Slick, who had just mounted the companion-ladder,
+"will your honour," touching his hat, "jist look at your honour's
+plunder, and see it's all right; remember me, Sir; thank your honour.
+This way, Sir; let me help your honour down. Remember me again, Sir.
+Thank your honour. Now you may go and break your neck, your honour, as
+soon as you please; for I've got all out of you I can squeeze, that's a
+fact. That's English, Squire--that's English servility, which they call
+civility, and English meanness and beggin', which they call parquisite.
+Who was that you wanted to see the Minister, that I heerd you a talkin'
+of when I come on deck?"
+
+"The Secretary of the Colonies," I said.
+
+"Oh for goodness sake don't send that crittur to him," said he, "or
+minister will have to pay him for his visit, more, p'raps, than he
+can afford. John Russell, that had the ribbons afore him, appointed a
+settler as a member of Legislative Council to Prince Edward's Island,
+a berth that has no pay, that takes a feller three months a year from
+home, and has a horrid sight to do; and what do you think he did? Now
+jist guess. You give it up, do you? Well, you might as well, for if you
+was five Yankees biled down to one, you wouldn't guess it. 'Remember
+Secretary's clerk,' says he, a touchin' of his hat, 'give him a little
+tip of thirty pound sterling, your honour.' Well, colonist had a drop of
+Yankee blood in him, which was about one third molasses, and, of course,
+one third more of a man than they commonly is, and so he jist ups and
+says, 'I'll see you and your clerk to Jericho beyond Jordan fust. The
+office ain't worth the fee. Take it and sell it to some one else that
+has more money nor wit.' He did, upon my soul."
+
+"No, don't send State-Secretary to Minister, send him to me at eleven
+o'clock to-night, for I shall be the toploftiest feller about that time
+you've seen this while past, I tell you. Stop till I touch land once
+more, that's all; the way I'll stretch my legs ain't no matter."
+
+He then uttered the negro ejaculation "chah!--chah!" and putting his
+arms a-kimbo, danced in a most extraordinary style to the music of a
+song, which he gave with great expression:
+
+  "Oh hab you nebber heerd ob de battle ob Orleens,
+   Where de dandy Yankee lads gave de Britishers de beans;
+   Oh de Louisiana boys dey did it pretty slick,
+   When dey cotch ole Packenham and rode him up a creek.
+   Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey,
+   Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dey.
+
+"Oh yes, send Secretary to me at eleven or twelve to-night, I'll be in
+tune then, jist about up to concart pitch. I'll smoke with him, or drink
+with him, or swap stories with him, or wrastle with him, or make a fool
+of him, or lick him, or any thing he likes; and when I've done, I'll
+rise up, tweak the fore-top-knot of my head by the nose, bow pretty, and
+say 'Remember me, your honour? Don't forget the tip?' Lord, how I long
+to walk into some o' these chaps, and give 'em the beans! and I will
+yet afore I'm many days older, hang me if I don't. I shall bust, I do
+expect; and if I do, them that ain't drownded will be scalded, I know.
+Chah!--chah!
+
+  "Oh de British name is Bull, and de French name is Frog,
+   And noisy critters too, when a braggin' on a log,--
+   But I is an alligator, a floatin' down stream.
+   And I'll chaw both the bullies up, as I would an ice-cream:
+   Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dee,
+   Wee my zippy dooden dooden dooden, dooden dooden dee.
+
+"Yes, I've been pent up in that drawer-like lookin' berth, till I've
+growed like a pine-tree with its branches off--straight up and down. My
+legs is like a pair of compasses that's got wet; they are rusty on the
+hinges, and won't work. I'll play leapfrog up the street, over every
+feller's head, till I get to the Liners' Hotel; I hope I may be shot if
+I don't. Jube, you villain, stand still there on the deck, and hold up
+stiff, you nigger. Warny once--warny twice--warny three times; now I
+come."
+
+And he ran forward, and putting a hand on each shoulder, jumped over
+him.
+
+"Turn round agin, you young sucking Satan, you; and don't give one mite
+or morsel, or you might 'break massa's precious neck,' p'raps. Warny
+once--warny twice--warny three times."
+
+And he repeated the feat again.
+
+"That's the way I'll shin it up street, with a hop, skip and a jump.
+Won't I make Old Bull stare, when he finds his head under my coat tails,
+and me jist makin' a lever of him? He'll think he has run foul of a
+snag, _I_ know. Lord, I'll shack right over their heads, as they do over
+a colonist; only when they do, they never say warny wunst, cuss 'em,
+they arn't civil enough for that. They arn't paid for it--there is no
+parquisite to be got by it. Won't I tuck in the Champaine to-night,
+that's all, till I get the steam up right, and make the paddles work?
+Won't I have a lark of the rael Kentuck breed? Won't I trip up a
+policeman's heels, thunder the knockers of the street doors, and ring
+the bells and leave no card? Won't I have a shy at a lamp, and then off
+hot foot to the hotel? Won't I say, 'Waiter, how dare you do that?'
+
+"'What, Sir?'
+
+"'Tread on my foot.'
+
+"'I didn't, Sir.'
+
+"'You did, Sir. Take that!' knock him down like wink, and help him up on
+his feet agin with a kick on his western eend. Kiss the barmaid, about
+the quickest and wickedest she ever heerd tell of, and then off to bed
+as sober as a judge. 'Chambermaid, bring a pan of coals and air my bed.'
+'Yes, Sir.' Foller close at her heels, jist put a hand on each short
+rib, tickle her till she spills the red hot coals all over the floor,
+and begins to cry over 'em to put 'em out, whip the candle out of her
+hand, leave her to her lamentations, and then off to roost in no time.
+And when I get there, won't I strike out all abroad--take up the room of
+three men with their clothes on--lay all over and over the bed, and feel
+once more I am a free man and a '_Gentleman at large_.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII. SEEING LIVERPOOL.
+
+On looking back to any given period of our life, we generally find that
+the intervening time appears much shorter than it really is. We see at
+once the starting-post and the terminus, and the mind takes in at one
+view the entire space.
+
+But this observation is more peculiarly applicable to a short passage
+across the Atlantic. Knowing how great the distance is, and accustomed
+to consider the voyage as the work of many weeks, we are so astonished
+at finding ourselves transported in a few days, from one continent to
+another, that we can hardly credit the evidence of our own senses.
+
+Who is there that on landing has not asked himself the question, "Is it
+possible that I am in England? It seems but as yesterday that I was in
+America, to-day I am in Europe. Is it a dream, or a reality?"
+
+The river and the docks--the country and the town--the people and their
+accent--the verdure and the climate are all new to me. I have not been
+prepared for this; I have not been led on imperceptibly, by travelling
+mile after mile by land from my own home, to accustom my senses to the
+gradual change of country. There has been no border to pass, where the
+language, the dress, the habits, and outward appearances assimilate.
+There has been no blending of colours--no dissolving views in the
+retrospect--no opening or expanding ones in prospect. I have no
+difficulty in ascertaining the point where one terminates and the other
+begins.
+
+The change is sudden and startling. The last time I slept on shore,
+was in America--to-night I sleep in England. The effect is magical--one
+country is withdrawn from view, and another is suddenly presented to my
+astonished gaze. I am bewildered; I rouse myself, and rubbing my eyes,
+again ask whether I am awake? Is this England? that great country, that
+world of itself; Old England, that place I was taught to call home _par
+excellence_, the home of other homes, whose flag, I called our flag?
+(no, I am wrong, I have been accustomed to call our flag, the flag of
+England; our church, not the Church of Nova Scotia, nor the Colonial nor
+the Episcopal, nor the Established, but the Church of England.) Is
+it then that England, whose language I speak, whose subject I am, the
+mistress of the world, the country of Kings and Queens, and nobles and
+prelates, and sages and heroes?
+
+I have read of it, so have I read of old Rome; but the sight of Rome,
+Caesar and the senate would not astonish me more than that of London,
+the Queen and the Parliament. Both are yet ideal; the imagination has
+sketched them, but when were its sketches ever true to nature? I have
+a veneration for both, but, gentle reader, excuse the confessions of an
+old man, for I have a soft spot in the heart yet, _I love Old England_.
+I love its institutions, its literature, its people. I love its law,
+because, while it protects property, it ensures liberty. I love its
+church, not only because I believe it is the true church, but because
+though armed with power, it is tolerant in practice. I love its
+constitution, because it combines the stability of a monarchy, with the
+most valuable peculiarities of a republic, and without violating nature
+by attempting to make men equal, wisely follow its dictates, by securing
+freedom to all.
+
+I like the people, though not all in the same degree. They are not what
+they were. Dissent, reform and agitation have altered their character.
+It is necessary to distinguish. A _real_ Englishman is generous, loyal
+and brave, manly in his conduct and gentlemanly in his feeling. When I
+meet such a man as this, I cannot but respect him; but when I find that
+in addition to these good qualities, he has the further recommendation
+of being a churchman in his religion and a tory in his politics, I know
+then that his heart is in the right place, and I love him.
+
+The drafts of these chapters were read to Mr. Slick, at his particular
+request, that he might be assured they contained nothing that would
+injure his election as President of the United States, in the event of
+the Slickville ticket becoming hereafter the favourite one. This, he
+said, was on the cards, strange as it might seem, for making a fool of
+John Bull and turning the laugh on him, would be sure to take and be
+popular. The last paragraphs, he said, he affectioned and approbated
+with all his heart.
+
+"It is rather tall talkin' that," said he; "I like its patronisin' tone.
+There is sunthin' goodish in a colonist patronisin' a Britisher. It's
+turnin' the tables on 'em; it's sarvin' 'em out in their own way. Lord,
+I think I see old Bull put his eye-glass up and look at you, with a dead
+aim, and hear him say, 'Come, this is cuttin' it rather fat.' Or, as
+the feller said to his second wife, when she tapped him on the shoulder,
+'Marm, my first wife was a _Pursy_, and she never presumed to take that
+liberty.' Yes, that's good, Squire. Go it, my shirt-tails! you'll win if
+you get in fust, see if you don't. Patronizin' a Britisher!!! A critter
+that has Lucifer's pride, Arkwright's wealth, and Bedlam's sense, ain't
+it rich? Oh, wake snakes and walk your chalks, will you! Give me your
+figgery-four Squire, I'll go in up to the handle for you. Hit or miss,
+rough or tumble, claw or mud-scraper, any way, you damn please, I'm your
+man."
+
+But to return to my narrative. I was under the necessity of devoting the
+day next after our landing at Liverpool, to writing letters announcing
+my safe arrival to my anxious friends in Nova Scotia, and in different
+parts of England; and also some few on matters of business. Mr. Slick
+was very urgent in his request, that I should defer this work till
+the evening, and accompany him in a stroll about the town, and at last
+became quite peevish at my reiterated refusal.
+
+"You remind me, Squire," said he, "of Rufus Dodge, our great ile
+marchant of Boston, and as you won't walk, p'raps you'll talk, so I'll
+jist tell you the story.
+
+"I was once at the Cataract House to Niagara. It is jist a short
+distance above the Falls. Out of the winders, you have a view of the
+splendid white waters, or the rapids of foam, afore the river takes its
+everlastin' leap over the cliff.
+
+"Well, Rufus come all the way from Boston to see the Falls: he said he
+didn't care much about them hisself, seein' that he warn't in the mill
+business; but, as he was a goin' to England, he didn't like to say he
+hadn't been there, especially as all the English knowed about America
+was, that there was a great big waterfall called Niagara, an everlastin'
+Almighty big river called Mississippi, and a parfect pictur of a wappin'
+big man called Kentuckian there. Both t'other ones he'd seen over and
+over agin, but Niagara he'd never sot eyes on.
+
+"So as soon as he arrives, he goes into the public room, and looks at
+the white waters, and, sais he, 'Waiter,' sais he, 'is them the falls
+down there?' a-pintin' by accident in the direction where the Falls
+actilly was.
+
+"'Yes, Sir,' sais the waiter.
+
+"'Hem!' sais Rufe, 'them's the Falls of Niagara, eh! So I've seen the
+Falls at last, eh! Well it's pretty too: they ain't bad, that's a fact.
+So them's the Falls of Niagara! How long is it afore the stage starts?'
+
+"'An hour, Sir.'
+
+"'Go and book me for Boston, and then bring me a paper.'
+
+"'Yes, Sir.'
+
+"Well he got his paper and sot there a readin' of it, and every now
+and then, he'd look out of the winder and say: 'So them's the Falls of
+Niagara, eh? Well, it's a pretty little mill privilege that too, ain't
+it; but it ain't just altogether worth comin' so far to see. So I've
+seen the Falls at last!'
+
+"Arter a while in comes a Britisher.
+
+"'Waiter,' says he, 'how far is it to the Falls?'
+
+"'Little over a half a mile, Sir.'
+
+"'Which way do you get there?'
+
+"'Turn to the right, and then to the left, and then go a-head.'
+
+"Rufe heard all this, and it kinder seemed dark to him; so arter
+cypherin' it over in his head a bit, 'Waiter,' says he, 'ain't them the
+Falls of Niagara, I see there?'
+
+"'No, Sir.'
+
+"'Well, that's tarnation all over now. Not the Falls?'
+
+"'No, Sir.'
+
+"'Why, you don't mean to say, that them are ain't the Falls?'
+
+"'Yes, I do, Sir.'
+
+"'Heaven and airth! I've come hundreds of miles a puppus to see 'em, and
+nothin' else; not a bit of trade, or speckelation, or any airthly thing
+but to see them cussed Falls, and come as near as 100 cents to a dollar,
+startin' off without sein' 'em arter all. If it hadn't a been for that
+are Britisher I was sold, that's a fact. Can I run down there and back
+in half an hour in time for the stage?'
+
+"'Yes, Sir, but you will have no time to see them.'
+
+"'See 'em, cuss 'em, I don't want to see 'em, I tell you. I want to look
+at 'em, I want to say I was to the Falls, that's all. Give me my hat,
+quick! So them ain't the Falls! I ha'n't see'd the Falls of Niagara
+arter all. What a devil of a take-in that is, ain't it?' And he dove
+down stairs like a Newfoundland dog into a pond arter a stone, and out
+of sight in no time.
+
+"Now, you are as like Rufe, as two peas, Squire. You want to say, you
+was to Liverpool, but you don't want to see nothin'.'
+
+"Waiter."
+
+"Sir."
+
+"Is this Liverpool, I see out of the Winder?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Guess I have seen Liverpool then. So this is the great city of
+Liverpool, eh? When does the train start for London?"
+
+"In half an hour, Sir?"
+
+"Book me for London then, for I have been to Liverpool and seen the
+city. Oh, take your place, Squire, you have seen Liverpool; and if you
+see as much of all other places, as you have of this here one, afore you
+return home, you will know most as much of England as them do that never
+was there at all.
+
+"I am sorry too, you won't go, Squire," added he, "for minister seems
+kinder dull."
+
+"Don't say another word, Mr. Slick," said I; "every thing shall give way
+to him." And locking up my writing-desk I said: "I am ready."
+
+"Stop, Squire," said he, "I've got a favour to ask of you. Don't for
+gracious sake, say nothin' before Mr. Hopewell about that 'ere lark I
+had last night arter landin', it would sorter worry him, and set him off
+a-preachin', and I'd rather he'd strike me any time amost than lectur,
+for he does it so tender and kindly, it hurts my feelins _like_, a
+considerable sum. I've had a pretty how-do-ye-do about it this mornin',
+and have had to plank down handsum', and do the thing genteel; but
+Mister Landlord found, I reckon, he had no fool to deal with, nother. He
+comes to me, as soon as I was cleverly up this mornin', lookin' as full
+of importance, as Jube Japan did when I put the Legation button on him.
+
+"'Bad business this, Sir,' says he; 'never had such a scene in my house
+before, Sir; have had great difficulty to prevent my sarvants takin' the
+law of you.'
+
+"'Ah,' sais I to myself, 'I see how the cat jumps; here's a little tid
+bit of extortion now; but you won't find that no go, I don't think.'
+
+"'You will have to satisfy them, Sir,' says he, 'or take the
+consequences.'
+
+"'Sartainly,' said I, 'any thin' you please: I leave it entirely to you;
+jist name what you think proper, and I will liquidate it.'
+
+"'I said, I knew you would behave like a gentleman, Sir,' sais he, 'for,
+sais I, don't talk to me of law, name it to the gentleman, and he'll do
+what is right; he'll behave liberal, you may depend.'
+
+"'You said right,' sais I, 'and now, Sir, what's the damage?'
+
+"'Fifty pounds, I should think about the thing, Sir,' said he.
+
+"'Certainly,' said I, 'you shall have the fifty pounds, but you must
+give me a receipt in full for it.'
+
+"'By all means,' said he, and he was a cuttin' off full chisel to get a
+stamp, when I sais, 'Stop,' sais I, 'uncle, mind and put in the receipt,
+the bill of items, and charge 'em separate?'
+
+"'Bill of items? sais he.
+
+"'Yes,' sais I, 'let me see what each is to get. Well, there's the
+waiter, now. Say to knockin' down the waiter and kicking him, so much;
+then there's the barmaid so much, and so on. I make no objection, I am
+willin' to pay all you ask, but I want to include all, for I intend to
+post a copy of it in the elegant cabins of each of our splendid New York
+Liners. This house convenes the Americans--they all know _me_. I want
+them to know how their _Attache_ was imposed on, and if any American
+ever sets foot in this cussed house agin I will pay his bill, and post
+that up too, as a letter of credit for him.'
+
+"'You wouldn't take that advantage of me, Sir?' said he.
+
+"'I take no advantage,' sais I. 'I'll pay you what you ask, but you
+shall never take advantage agin of another free and enlightened American
+citizen, I can tell you.'
+
+"'You must keep your money then, Sir,' said he, 'but this is not a fair
+deal; no gentleman would do it.'
+
+"'What's fair, I am willin' to do,' sais I; 'what's onfair, is what
+you want to do. Now, look here: I knocked the waiter down; here is two
+sovereigns for him; I won't pay him nothin' for the kickin', for that
+I give him out of contempt, for not defendin' of himself. Here's three
+sovereigns for the bar-maid; she don't ought to have nothin', for she
+never got so innocent a kiss afore, in all her born days I know, for
+I didn't mean no harm, and she never got so good a one afore nother,
+that's a fact; but then _I_ ought to pay, I do suppose, because I hadn't
+ought to treat a lady that way; it was onhansum', that's fact; and
+besides, it tante right to give the galls a taste for such things. They
+come fast enough in the nateral way, do kisses, without inokilatin'
+folks for 'em. And here's a sovereign for the scoldin' and siscerarin'
+you gave the maid, that spilt the coals and that's an eend of the
+matter, and I don't want no receipt.'
+
+"Well, he bowed and walked off, without sayin' of a word."
+
+Here Mr. Hopewell joined us, and we descended to the street, to commence
+our perambulation of the city; but it had begun to rain, and we were
+compelled to defer it until the next day.
+
+"Well, it ain't much matter, Squire," said Mr. Slick: "ain't that
+Liverpool, I see out of the winder? Well, then I've been to Liverpool.
+Book me for London. So I have seen Liverpool at last, eh! or, as Rufus
+said, I have felt it too, for this wet day reminds me of the rest of his
+story.
+
+"In about a half hour arter Rufus raced off to the Falls, back he
+comes as hard as he could tear, a-puffing and a blowin' like a sizeable
+grampus. You never seed such a figure as he was, he was wet through and
+through, and the dry dust stickin' to his clothes, made him look like a
+dog, that had jumped into the water, and then took a roll in the road to
+dry hisself; he was a caution to look at, that's a fact.
+
+"'Well,' sais I, 'Stranger, did you see the Falls?'
+
+"'Yes,' sais he, 'I have see'd 'em and felt 'em too; them's very wet
+Falls, that's a fact. I hante a dry rag on me; if it hadn't a been for
+that ere Britisher, I wouldn't have see'd 'em at all, and yet a thought
+I had been there all the time. It's a pity too, that that winder don't
+bear on it, for then you could see it without the trouble of goin'
+there, or gettin' ducked, or gettin' skeered so. I got an awful fright
+there--I shall never forget it, if I live as long as Merusalem. You know
+I hadn't much time left, when. I found out I hadn't been there arter
+all, so I ran all the way, right down as hard as I could clip; and,
+seein' some folks comin' out from onder the Fall, I pushed strait in,
+but the noise actilly stunned me, and the spray wet me through and
+through like a piece of sponged cloth; and the great pourin', bilin'
+flood, blinded me so I couldn't see a bit; and I hadn't gone far in,
+afore a cold, wet, clammy, dead hand, felt my face all over. I believe
+in my soul, it was the Indian squaw that went over the Falls in the
+canoe, or the crazy Englisher, that tried to jump across it.
+
+"'Oh creation, how cold it was! The moment that spirit rose, mine fell,
+and I actilly thought I should have dropt lumpus, I was so skeered. Give
+me your hand, said Ghost, for I didn't see nothin' but a kinder dark
+shadow. Give me your hand. I think it must ha' been the squaw, for it
+begged for all the world, jist like an Indgian. I'd see you hanged fust,
+said I; I wouldn't touch that are dead tacky hand o' yourn' for half a
+million o' hard dollars, cash down without any ragged eends; and with
+that, I turned to run out, but Lord love you I couldn't run. The stones
+was all wet and slimy, and onnateral slippy, and I expected every
+minute, I should heels up and go for it: atween them two critters the
+Ghost and the juicy ledge, I felt awful skeered I tell _you_. So I
+begins to say my catechism; what's your name, sais I? Rufus Dodge. Who
+gave you that name? Godfather and godmother granny Eells. What did
+they promise for you? That I should renounce the devil and all his
+works--works--works--I couldn't get no farther, I stuck fast there, for
+I had forgot it.
+
+"'The moment I stopt, ghost kinder jumped forward, and seized me by my
+mustn't-mention'ems, and most pulled the seat out. Oh dear! my heart
+most went out along with it, for I thought my time had come. You black
+she-sinner of a heathen Indgian! sais I; let me go this blessed minite,
+for I renounce the devil and all his works, the devil and all his
+works--so there now; and I let go a kick behind, the wickedest you ever
+see, and took it right in the bread basket. Oh, it yelled and howled
+and screached like a wounded hyaena, till my ears fairly cracked agin.
+I renounce you, Satan, sais I; I renounce you, and the world, and the
+flesh and the devil. And now, sais I, a jumpin' on terry firm once more,
+and turnin' round and facin' the enemy, I'll promise a little dust more
+for myself, and that is to renounce Niagara, and Indgian squaws, and
+dead Britishers, and the whole seed, breed and generation of 'em from
+this time forth, for evermore. Amen.
+
+"'Oh blazes! how cold my face is yet. Waiter, half a pint of clear
+cocktail; somethin' to warm me. Oh, that cold hand! Did you ever touch a
+dead man's hand? it's awful cold, you may depend. Is there any marks on
+my face? do you see the tracks of the fingers there?'
+
+"'No, Sir,' sais I,' I can't say I do.'
+
+"'Well, then I feel them there,' sais he, 'as plain as any thing.'
+
+"'Stranger,' sais I, 'it was nothin' but some poor no-souled critter,
+like yourself, that was skeered a'most to death, and wanted to be helped
+out that's all."
+
+"'Skeered!' said he, 'sarves him right then; he might have knowed how to
+feel for other folks, and not funkify them so peskily; I don't keer if
+he never gets out; but I have my doubts about its bein' a livin' human,
+I tell _you_. If I hadn't a renounced the devil and all his works that
+time, I don't know what the upshot would have been, for Old Scratch was
+there too. I saw him as plain as I see you; he ran out afore me, and
+couldn't stop or look back, as long as I said catekism. He was in his
+old shape of the sarpent; he was the matter of a yard long, and as thick
+round as my arm and travelled belly-flounder fashion; when I touched
+land, he dodged into an eddy, and out of sight in no time. Oh, there is
+no mistake, I'll take my oath of it; I see him, I did upon my soul. It
+was the old gentleman hisself; he come there to cool hisself. Oh, it was
+the devil, that's a fact.'
+
+"'It was nothin' but a fresh water eel,' sais I; 'I have seen thousands
+of 'em there; for the crevices of them rocks are chock full of 'em.
+How can you come for to go, for to talk arter that fashion; you are
+a disgrace to our great nation, you great lummokin coward, you. An
+American citizen is afeerd of nothin', but a bad spekilation, or bein'
+found oat.'
+
+"Well, that posed him, he seemed kinder bothered, and looked down.
+
+"'An eel, eh! well, it mought be an eel,' sais be, 'that's a fact.
+I didn't think of that; but then if it was, it was god-mother granny
+Eells, that promised I should renounce the devil and all his works, that
+took that shape, and come to keep me to my bargain. She died fifty years
+ago, poor old soul, and never kept company with Indgians, or niggers,
+or any such trash. Heavens and airth! I don't wonder the Falls wakes the
+dead, it makes such an everlastin' almighty noise, does Niagara. Waiter,
+more cocktail, that last was as weak as water.'
+
+"'Yes, Sir,' and he swallered it like wink.
+
+"'The stage is ready, Sir.'
+
+"'Is it?' said he, and he jumped in all wet as he was; for time is money
+and he didn't want to waste neither. As it drove off, I heerd him say,
+'Well them's the Falls, eh! So I have seen the Falls of Niagara and felt
+'em too, eh!'
+
+"Now, we are better off than Rufus Dodge was, Squire; for we hante got
+wet, and we hante got frightened, but we can look out o' the winder and
+say, 'Well, that's Liverpool, eh! so I have--seen Liverpool.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX. CHANGING A NAME.
+
+The rain having confined us to the house this afternoon, we sat over
+our wine after dinner longer than usual. Among the different topics
+that were discussed, the most prominent was the state of the political
+parties in this country. Mr. Slick, who paid great deference to the
+opinions of Mr. Hopewell, was anxious to ascertain from him what
+he thought upon the subject, in order to regulate his conduct and
+conversation by it hereafter.
+
+"Minister," said he, "what do you think of the politics of the British?"
+
+"I don't think about them at all, Sam. I hear so much of such matters at
+home, that I am heartily tired of them; our political world is divided
+into two classes, the knaves and the dupes. Don't let us talk of such
+exciting, things."
+
+"But, Minister," said Mr. Slick, "holdin' the high and dignified station
+I do, as Attache, they will be a-pumpin' me for everlastinly, will the
+great men here, and they think a plaguy sight more of our opinion than
+you are aware on; we have tried all them things they are a jawin' about
+here, and they naterally want to know the results. Cooper says not one
+Tory called on him when he was to England, but Walter Scott; and that
+I take it, was more lest folks should think he was jealous of him, than
+any thing else; they jist cut him as dead as a skunk; but among the
+Whigs, he was quite an oracle on ballot, univarsal suffrage, and all
+other democratic institutions."
+
+"Well, he was a ninny then, was Cooper, to go and blart it all out to
+the world that way; for if no Tory visited him, I should like you to ask
+him the next time you see him, how many gentlemen called upon him? Jist
+ask him that, and it will stop him from writing such stuff any more."
+
+"But, Minister, jist tell us now, here you are, as a body might say in
+England, now what are you?"
+
+"I am a man, Sam; _Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto_."
+
+"Well, what's all that when it's fried?"
+
+"Why, that when away from home, I am a citizen of the world. I belong to
+no party, but take an interest in the whole human family."
+
+"Well, Minister, if you choose to sing dumb, you can, but I should like
+to have you answer me one question now, and if you won't, why you must
+jist do t'other thing, that's all. Are you a Consarvative?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Are you a Whig?"
+
+"No."
+
+"A Radical?"
+
+"God forbid!"
+
+"What in natur' are you then?"
+
+"A Tory."
+
+"A Tory! well, I thought that a Tory and a Consarvative, were as the
+Indgians say, "all same one brudder." Where is the difference?"
+
+"You will soon find that out, Sam; go and talk to a Consarvative as
+a Tory, and you will find he is a Whig: go and talk to him again as a
+Whig, and you will find he is a Tory. They are, for all the world, like
+a sturgeon. There is very good beef steaks in a sturgeon, and very good
+fish too, and yet it tante either fish or flesh. I don't like taking
+a new name, it looks amazing like taking new principles, or, at all
+events, like loosenin' old ones, and I hante seen the creed of this new
+sect yet--I don't know what its tenets are, nor where to go and look for
+'em. It strikes me they don't accord with the Tories, and yet arn't in
+tune with the Whigs, but are half a note lower than the one, and half
+a note higher than t'other. Now, changes in the body politic are always
+necessary more or less, in order to meet the changes of time, and the
+changes in the condition of man. When they are necessary, make 'em, and
+ha' done with 'em. Make 'em like men, not when you are forced to do so,
+and nobody thanks you, but when you see they are wanted, and are proper;
+but don't alter your name.
+
+"My wardens wanted me to do that; they came to me, and said 'Minister,'
+says they, 'we don't want _you_ to change, we don't ask it; jist let
+us call you a Unitarian, and you can remain Episcopalian still. We are
+tired of that old fashioned name, it's generally thought unsuited to
+the times, and behind the enlightment of the age; it's only fit for
+benighted Europeans. Change the name, you needn't change any thing else.
+What is a name?'
+
+"'Every thing,' says I, 'every thing, my brethren; one name belongs to a
+Christian, and the other don't; that's the difference. I'd die before
+I surrendered my name; for in surrenderin' that, I surrender my
+principles.'"
+
+"Exactly," said Mr. Slick, "that's what Brother Eldad used to say.
+'Sam,' said he, 'a man with an _alias_ is the worst character in the
+world; for takin' a new name, shows he is ashamed of his old one; and
+havin' an old one, shows his new one is a cheat.'"
+
+"No," said Mr. Hopewell, "I don't like that word Consarvative. Them
+folks may be good kind of people, and I guess they be, seein' that the
+Tories support 'em, which is the best thing I see about them; but I
+don't like changin' a name."
+
+"Well, I don't know," said Mr. Slick, "p'raps their old name was so
+infarnal dry rotted, they wanted to change it for a sound new one. You
+recollect when that super-superior villain, Expected Thorne, brought
+an action of defamation agin' me, to Slickville, for takin' away his
+character, about stealing the watch to Nova Scotia; well, I jist pleaded
+my own case, and I ups and sais, 'Gentlemen of the Jury,' sais I,
+"Expected's character, every soul knows, is about the wust in all
+Slickville. If I have taken it away, I have done him a great sarvice,
+for he has a smart chance of gettin' a better one; and if he don't find
+a swap to his mind, why no character is better nor a bad one.'
+
+"Well, the old judge and the whole court larfed right out like any
+thin'; and the jury, without stirrin' from the box, returned a vardict
+for the defendant. P'raps now, that mought be the case with the Tories."
+
+"The difference," said Mr. Hopewell, is jist this:--your friend, Mr.
+Expected Thorne, had a name he had ought to have been ashamed of, and
+the Tories one that the whole nation had very great reason to be
+proud of. There is some little difference, you must admit. My English
+politics, (mind you, I say English, for they hare no reference to
+America,) are Tory, and I don't want to go to Sir Robert Peel, or Lord
+John Russell either."
+
+"As for Johnny Russell," said Mr. Slick, "he is a clever little chap
+that; he--"
+
+"Don't call him Johnny Russell," said Mr. Hopewell, "or a little chap,
+or such flippant names, I don't like to hear you talk that way. It
+neither becomes you as a Christian nor a gentleman. St. Luke and St.
+Paul, when addressing people of rank, use the word '[Greek text]'
+which, as nearly as possible, answers to the title of 'your Excellency.'
+Honour, we are told, should be given to those to whom honour is due;
+and if we had no such authority on the subject, the omission of titles,
+where they are usual and legal, is, to say the least of it, a vulgar
+familiarity, ill becoming an Attache of our embassy. But as I was
+saying, I do not require to go to either of those statesmen to be
+instructed in my politics. I take mine where I take my religion, from
+the Bible. 'Fear God, honour the King, and meddle not with those that
+are given to change.'"
+
+"Oh, Minister," said Mr. Slick, "you mis't a figur at our glorious
+Revolution, you had ought to have held on to the British; they would
+have made a bishop of you, and shoved you into the House of Lords, black
+apron, lawn sleeves, shovel hat and all, as sure as rates. 'The right
+reverend, the Lord Bishop of Slickville:' wouldn't it look well on
+the back of a letter, eh? or your signature to one sent to me, signed
+'Joshua Slickville.' It sounds better, that, than 'Old Minister,' don't
+it?"
+
+"Oh, if you go for to talk that way, Sam, I am done; but I will shew you
+that the Tories are the men to govern this great nation. A Tory I may
+say '_noscitur a sociis_.'"
+
+"What in natur is that, when it's biled and the skin took off?" asked
+Mr. Slick.
+
+"Why is it possible you don't know that? Have you forgotten that common
+schoolboy phrase?"
+
+"Guess I do know; but it don't tally jist altogether nohow, as it were.
+Known as a Socialist, isn't it?"
+
+"If, Sir," said Mr. Hopewell, with much earnestness, "if instead of
+ornamenting your conversation with cant terms, and miserable slang,
+picked up from the lowest refuse of our population, both east and west,
+you had cultivated your mind, and enriched it with quotations from
+classical writers, you would have been more like an Attache, and less
+like a peddling clockmaker than you are."
+
+"Minister," said Mr. Slick, "I was only in jeest, but you are in
+airnest. What you have said is too true for a joke, and I feel it. I was
+only a sparrin'; but you took off the gloves, and felt my short ribs in
+a way that has given me a stitch in the side. It tante fair to kick that
+way afore you are spurred. You've hurt me considerable."
+
+"Sam, I am old, narvous, and irritable. I was wrong to speak unkindly
+to you, very wrong indeed, and I am sorry for it; but don't teaze me no
+more, that's a good lad; for I feel worse than you do about it. I beg
+your pardon, I--"
+
+"Well," said Mr. Slick, "to get back to what we was a sayin', for you do
+talk like a book, that's a fact; '_noscitur a sociis_,' says you."
+
+"Ay, 'Birds of a feather flock together,' as the old maxim goes. Now,
+Sam, who supported the Whigs?"
+
+"Why, let me see; a few of the lords, a few of the gentry, the
+repealers, the manufacturin' folks, the independents, the baptists, the
+dissentin' Scotch, the socialists, the radicals, the discontented, and
+most of the lower orders, and so on."
+
+"Well, who supported the Tories?"
+
+"Why, the majority of the lords, the great body of landed gentry, the
+univarsities, the whole of the Church of England, the whole of the
+methodists, amost the principal part of the kirk, the great marchants,
+capitalists, bankers, lawyers, army and navy officers, and soon."
+
+"Now don't take your politics from me, Sam, for I am no politician; but
+as an American citizen, judge for yourself, which of those two parties
+is most likely to be right, or which would you like to belong to."
+
+"Well, I must say," replied he, "I _do_ think that the larnin', piety,
+property, and respectability, is on the Tory side; and where all them
+things is united, right most commonly is found a-joggin' along in
+company."
+
+"Well now, Sam, you know we are a calculatin' people, a commercial
+people, a practical people. Europe laughs at us for it. Perhaps if
+they attended better to their own financial affairs, they would be in a
+better situation to laugh. But still we must look to facts and results.
+How did the Tories, when they went out of office, leave the kingdom?--At
+peace?"
+
+"Yes, with all the world."
+
+"How did the Whigs leave it?"
+
+"With three wars on hand, and one in the vat a-brewin' with America.
+Every great interest injured, some ruined, and all alarmed at the
+impendin' danger--of national bankruptcy."
+
+"Well, now for dollars and cents. How did the Tories leave the
+treasury?"
+
+"With a surplus revenue of millions."
+
+"How did the Whigs?"
+
+"With a deficiency that made the nation scratch their head, and stare
+agin."
+
+"I could go through the details with you, as far as my imperfect
+information extends, or more imperfect memory would let me; but it
+is all the same, and always will be, here, in France, with us, in the
+colonies, and everywhere else. Whenever property, talent, and virtue are
+all on one side, and only ignorant numbers, with a mere sprinkling of
+property and talent to agitate 'em and make use of 'em, or misinformed
+or mistaken virtue to sanction 'em on the other side, no honest man can
+take long to deliberate which side he will choose.
+
+"As to those conservatives, I don't know what to say, Sam; I should like
+to put you right if I could. But I'll tell you what puzzles me. I ask
+myself what is a Tory? I find he is a man who goes the whole figur' for
+the support of the monarchy, in its three orders, of king, lords, and
+commons, as by law established; that he is for the connexion of Church
+and State and so on; and that as the wealthiest man in England, he
+offers to prove his sincerity, by paying the greatest part of the taxes
+to uphold these things. Well, then I ask what is Consarvitism? I am told
+that it means, what it imports, a conservation of things as they are.
+Where, then, is the difference? _If there is no difference, it is a mere
+juggle to change the name: if there is a difference, the word is worse
+than a juggle, for it don't import any_."
+
+"Tell you what," said Mr. Slick, "I heerd an old critter to Halifax once
+describe 'em beautiful. He said he could tell a man's politicks by his
+shirt. 'A Tory, Sir,' said he, for he was a pompious old boy was old
+Blue-Nose; 'a Tory, Sir,' said he, 'is a gentleman every inch of him,
+stock, lock, and barrel; and he puts a clean frill shirt on every day.
+A Whig, Sir,' says he, 'is a gentleman every other inch of him, and
+he puts an onfrilled one on every other day. A Radical, Sir, ain't no
+gentleman at all, and he only puts one on of a Sunday. But a Chartist,
+Sir, is a loafer; he never puts one on till the old one won't hold
+together no longer, and drops off in, pieces.'"
+
+"Pooh!" said Mr. Hopewell, "now don't talk nonsense; but as I was
+a-goin' to say, I am a plain man, and a straightforward man, Sam; what I
+say, I mean; and what I mean, I say. Private and public life are subject
+to the same rules; and truth and manliness are two qualities that
+will carry you through this world much better than policy, or tact,
+or expediency, or any other word that ever was devised to conceal, or
+mystify a deviation from the straight line. They have a sartificate of
+character, these consarvitives, in having the support of the Tories; but
+that don't quite satisfy me. It may, perhaps, mean no more than this,
+arter all--they are the best sarvants we have; but not as good as we
+want. However, I shall know more about it soon; and when I do, I will
+give you my opinion candidly. One thing, however, is certain, a change
+in the institutions of a country I could accede to, approve, and
+support, if necessary and good; but I never can approve of either an
+individual or a party--'_changing a name_.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X. THE NELSON MONUMENT.
+
+The following day being dry, we walked out to view the wonders of this
+great commercial city of England, Liverpool. The side-paths were filled
+with an active and busy population, and the main streets thronged with
+heavily-laden waggons, conveying to the docks the manufactures of the
+country, or carrying inward the productions of foreign nations. It was
+an animating and busy scene.
+
+"This," said Mr. Hopewell, "is solitude. It is in a place like this,
+that you feel yourself to be an isolated being, when you are surrounded
+by multitudes who have no sympathy with you, to whom you are not only
+wholly unknown, but not one of whom you have ever seen before.
+
+"The solitude of the vast American forest is not equal to this.
+Encompassed by the great objects of nature, you recognise nature's God
+every where; you feel his presence, and rely on his protection. Every
+thing in a city is artificial, the predominant idea is man; and man,
+under circumstances like the present, is neither your friend nor
+protector. You form no part of the social system here. Gregarious by
+nature, you cannot associate; dependent, you cannot attach yourself; a
+rational being, you cannot interchange ideas. In seeking the wilderness
+you enter the abode of solitude, and are naturally and voluntarily
+alone. On visiting a city, on the contrary, you enter the residence of
+man, and if you are forced into isolation there, to you it is worse than
+a desert.
+
+"I know of nothing so depressing as this feeling of unconnected
+individuality, amidst a dense population like this. But, my friend,
+there is One who never forsakes us either in the throng or the
+wilderness, whose ear is always open to our petitions, and who has
+invited us to rely on his goodness and mercy."
+
+"You hadn't ought to feel lonely here, Minister," said Mr. Slick. "It's
+a place we have a right to boast of is Liverpool; we built it, and I'll
+tell you what it is, to build two such cities as New York and Liverpool
+in the short time we did, is sunthin' to brag of. If there had been no
+New York, there would have been no Liverpool; but if there had been no
+Liverpool, there would have been a New York though. They couldn't do
+nothin' without us. We had to build them elegant line-packets for 'em;
+they couldn't build one that could sail, and if she sail'd she couldn't
+steer, and if she sail'd and steer'd, she upsot; there was always a
+screw loose somewhere.
+
+"It cost us a great deal too to build them ere great docks. They cover
+about seventy acres, I reckon. We have to pay heavy port dues to keep
+'em up, and pay interest on capital. The worst of it is, too, while we
+pay for all this, we hante got the direction of the works."
+
+"If you have paid for all these things," said I, "you had better
+lay claim to Liverpool. Like the disputed territory (to which it now
+appears, you knew you had no legal or equitable claim), it is probable
+you will have half of it ceded to you, for the purpose of conciliation.
+I admire this boast of yours uncommonly. It reminds me of the
+conversation we had some years ago, about the device on your "naval
+button," of the eagle holding an anchor in its claws--that national
+emblem of ill-directed ambition and vulgar pretension."
+
+"I thank you for that hint," said Mr. Slick, "I was in jeest like; but
+there is more in it, for all that, than you'd think. It ain't literal
+fact, but it is figurative truth. But now I'll shew you sunthin' in
+this town, that's as false as parjury, sunthin that's a disgrace to this
+country and an insult to our great nation, and there is no jeest in it
+nother, but a downright lie; and, since you go for to throw up to me our
+naval button with its 'eagle and anchor,' I'll point out to you sunthin'
+a hundred thousand million times wus. What was the name o' that English
+admiral folks made such a touss about; that cripple-gaited, one-eyed,
+one-armed little naval critter?"
+
+"Do you mean Lord Nelson?"
+
+"I do," said he, and pointing to his monument, he continued, "There
+he is as big as life, five feet nothin', with his shoes on. Now examine
+that monument, and tell me if the English don't know how to brag, as
+well as some other folks, and whether they don't brag too sumtimes, when
+they hante got no right to. There is four figures there a representing
+the four quarters of the globe in chains, and among them America, a
+crouchin' down, and a-beggin' for life, like a mean heathen Ingin. Well,
+jist do the civil now, and tell me when that little braggin' feller ever
+whipped us, will you? Just tell me the day of the year he was ever able
+to do it, since his mammy cut the apron string and let him run to seek
+his fortin'. Heavens and airth, we'd a chawed him right up!
+
+"No, there never was an officer among you, that had any thing to brag
+of about us but one, and he wasn't a Britisher--he was a despisable
+Blue-nose colonist boy of Halifax. When his captain was took below
+wounded, he was leftenant, so he jist ups and takes command o' the
+Shannon, and fit like a tiger and took our splendid frigate the
+Chesapeake, and that was sumthing to brag on. And what did he get for
+it? Why colony sarce, half-pay, and leave to make room for Englishers
+to go over his head; and here is a lyin' false monument, erected to this
+man that never even see'd one of our national ships, much less smelt
+thunder and lightning out of one, that English like, has got this for
+what he didn't do.
+
+"I am sorry Mr. Lett [Footnote: This was the man that blew up the Brock
+monument in Canada. _He was a Patriot_.] is dead to Canada, or I'd give
+him a hint about this. I'd say, 'I hope none of our free and enlightened
+citizens will blow this lyin', swaggerin', bullyin' monument up? I
+should be sorry for 'em to take notice of such vulgar insolence as this;
+for bullies will brag.' He'd wink and say, 'I won't non-concur with you,
+Mr. Slick. I hope it won't be blowed up; but wishes like dreams come
+con_trary_ ways sometimes, and I shouldn't much wonder if it bragged
+till it bust some night.' It would go for it, that's a fact. For Mr.
+Lett has a kind of nateral genius for blowin' up of monuments.
+
+"Now you talk of our Eagle takin' an anchor in its claws as bad taste.
+I won't say it isn't; but it is a nation sight better nor this. See what
+the little admiral critter is about! why he is a stampin' and a jabbin'
+of the iron heel of his boot into the lifeless body of a fallen foe!
+It's horrid disgustin', and ain't overly brave nother; and to make
+matters wus, as if this warn't bad enough, them four emblem figures,
+have great heavy iron chains on 'em, and a great enormous sneezer of
+a lion has one part o' the chain in its mouth, and is a-growlin' and
+a-grinnin' and a-snarling at 'em like mad, as much as to say, 'if you
+dare to move the sixteen hundredth part of an inch, I will fall to and
+make mincemeat of you, in less than half no time. I don't think there
+never was nothin' so bad as this, ever seen since the days of old daddy
+Adam down to this present blessed day, I don't indeed. So don't come for
+to go, Squire, to tarnt me with the Eagle and the anchor no more, for I
+don't like it a bit; you'd better look to your '_Nelson monument_' and
+let us alone. So come now!"
+
+Amidst much that was coarse, and more that was exaggerated, there was
+still some foundation for the remarks of the Attache.
+
+"You arrogate a little too much to yourselves," I observed, "in
+considering the United States as all America. At the time these
+brilliant deeds were achieved, which this monument is intended to
+commemorate, the Spaniards owned a very much greater portion of the
+transatlantic continent than you now do, and their navy composed a part
+of the hostile fleets which were destroyed by Lord Nelson. At that time,
+also, you had no navy, or at all events, so few ships, as scarcely
+to deserve the name of one; nor had you won for yourselves that high
+character, which you now so justly enjoy, for skill and gallantry. I
+agree with you, however, in thinking the monument is in bad taste. The
+name of Lord Nelson is its own monument. It will survive when these
+perishable structures, which the pride or the gratitude of his
+countrymen have erected to perpetuate his fame, shall have mouldered
+into dust, and been forgotten for ever. If visible objects are thought
+necessary to suggest the mention of his name oftener that it would
+otherwise occur to the mind, they should be such as to improve the
+taste, as well as awaken the patriotism of the beholder. As an American,
+there is nothing to which you have a right to object, but as a critic,
+I admit that there is much that you cannot approve in the '_Nelson
+Monument_.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI. COTTAGES.
+
+On the tenth day after we landed at Liverpool, we arrived in London and
+settled ourselves very comfortably in lodgings at No. 202, Piccadilly,
+where every possible attention was paid to us by our landlord and his
+wife, Mr. and Mrs. Weeks. We performed the journey in a post-chaise,
+fearing that the rapid motion of a rail car might have an unpleasant
+effect upon the health of Mr. Hope well.
+
+Of the little incidents of travel that occurred to us, or of the various
+objects of attraction on the route, it is not my intention to give
+any account. Our journey was doubtless much like the journeys of other
+people, and every thing of local interest is to be found in Guide Books,
+or topographical works, which are within the reach of every body.
+
+This book, however imperfect its execution may be, is altogether of
+another kind. I shall therefore pass over this and other subsequent
+journeys, with no other remark, than that they were performed, until
+something shall occur illustrative of the objects I have in view.
+
+On this occasion I shall select from my diary a description of the
+labourer's cottage, and the parish church; because the one shews the
+habits, tastes, and condition of the poor of this country, in contrast
+with that of America--and the other, the relative means of religious
+instruction, and its effect on the lower orders.
+
+On the Saturday morning, while preparing to resume our journey, which
+was now nearly half completed, Mr. Hopewell expressed a desire to remain
+at the inn where we were, until the following Monday. As the day was
+fine, he said he should like to ramble about the neighbourhood, and
+enjoy the fresh air. His attention was soon drawn to some very beautiful
+new cottages.
+
+"These," said he, "are no doubt erected at the expense, and for the
+gratification of some great landed proprietor. They are not the abodes
+of ordinary labourers, but designed for some favoured dependant or aged
+servant. They are expensive toys, but still they are not without their
+use. They diffuse a taste among the peasantry--they present them with
+models, which, though they cannot imitate in costliness of material or
+finish, they can copy in arrangement, and in that sort of decoration,
+which flowers, and vines, and culture, and care can give. Let us seek
+one which is peculiarly the poor man's cottage, and let us go in and see
+who and what they are, how they live, and above all, how they think and
+talk. Here is a lane, let us follow it, till we come to a habitation."
+
+We turned into a grass road, bounded on either side by a high straggling
+thorn hedge. At its termination was an irregular cottage with a thatched
+roof, which projected over the windows in front. The latter were
+latticed with diamond-shaped panes of glass, and were four in number,
+one on each side of the door and two just under the roof. The door was
+made of two transverse parts, the upper half of which was open. On one
+side was a basket-like cage containing a magpie, and on the other, a
+cat lay extended on a bench, dozing in the warmth of the sun. The blue
+smoke, curling upwards from a crooked chimney, afforded proof of some
+one being within.
+
+We therefore opened a little gate, and proceeded through a neat garden,
+in which flowers and vegetables were intermixed. It had a gay appearance
+from the pear, apple, thorn and cherry being all in full bloom. We were
+received at the door by a middle-aged woman, with the ruddy glow of
+health on her cheeks, and dressed in coarse, plain, but remarkably neat
+and suitable, attire. As this was a cottage selected at random, and
+visited without previous intimation of our intention, I took particular
+notice of every thing I saw, because I regarded its appearance as a fair
+specimen of its constant and daily state.
+
+Mr. Hopewell needed no introduction. His appearance told what he was.
+His great stature and erect bearing, his intelligent and amiable face,
+his noble forehead, his beautiful snow-white locks, his precise and
+antique dress, his simplicity of manner, every thing, in short, about
+him, at once attracted attention and conciliated favour.
+
+Mrs. Hodgins, for such was her name, received us with that mixture of
+respect and ease, which shewed she was accustomed to converse with her
+superiors. She was dressed in a blue homespun gown, (the sleeves of
+which were drawn up to her elbows and the lower part tucked through her
+pocket-hole,) a black stuff petticoat, black stockings and shoes with
+the soles more than half an inch thick. She wore also, a large white
+apron, and a neat and by no means unbecoming cap. She informed us her
+husband was a gardener's labourer, that supported his family by his
+daily work, and by the proceeds of the little garden attached to the
+house, and invited us to come in and sit down.
+
+The apartment into which the door opened, was a kitchen or common room.
+On one side, was a large fire-place, the mantel-piece or shelf, of
+which was filled with brass candlesticks, large and small, some queer
+old-fashioned lamps, snuffers and trays, polished to a degree of
+brightness, that was dazzling. A dresser was carried round the wall,
+filled with plates and dishes, and underneath were exhibited the
+ordinary culinary utensils, in excellent order. A small table stood
+before the fire, with a cloth of spotless whiteness spread upon it, as
+if in preparation for a meal. A few stools completed the furniture.
+
+Passing through this place, we were shewn into the parlour, a small room
+with a sanded floor. Against the sides were placed some old, dark, and
+highly polished chairs, of antique form and rude workmanship. The
+walls were decorated with several coloured prints, illustrative of the
+Pilgrim's Progress and hung in small red frames of about six inches
+square. The fire-place was filled with moss, and its mantel-shelf had
+its china sheep and sheperdesses, and a small looking-glass, the whole
+being surmounted by a gun hung transversely. The Lord's Prayer and the
+Ten Commandments worked in worsted, were suspended in a wooden frame
+between the windows, which had white muslin blinds, and opened on
+hinges, like a door. A cupboard made to fit the corner, in a manner
+to economise room, was filled with china mugs, cups and saucers of
+different sizes and patterns, some old tea-spoons and a plated tea-pot.
+
+There was a small table opposite to the window, which Contained half
+a dozen books. One of these was large, handsomely bound, and decorated
+with gilt edged paper. Mr. Hopewell opened it, and expressed great
+satisfaction at finding such an edition of a bible in such a house. Mrs.
+Hodgins explained that this was a present from her eldest son, who had
+thus appropriated his first earnings to the gratification of his mother.
+
+"Creditable to you both, dear," said Mr. Hopewell: "to you, because it
+is a proof how well you have instructed him; and to him, that he so well
+appreciated and so faithfully remembered those lessons of duty."
+
+He then inquired into the state of her family, whether the boy who was
+training a peach-tree against the end of the house was her son, and many
+other matters not necessary to record with the same precision that I
+have enumerated the furniture.
+
+"Oh, here is a pretty little child!" said he. "Come here, dear, and
+shake hands along with me. What beautiful hair she has! and she looks
+so clean and nice, too. Every thing and every body here is so neat, so
+tidy, and so appropriate. Kiss me, dear; and then talk to me; for I love
+little children. 'Suffer them to come unto me,' said our Master, 'for of
+such is the kingdom of Heaven:' that is, that we should resemble these
+little ones in our innocence."
+
+He then took her on his knee. "Can you say the Lord's Prayer, dear?"
+
+"Yes, Sir."
+
+"Very good. And the ten Commandments?"
+
+"Yes, Sir."
+
+"Who taught you?"
+
+"My mother, Sir; and the parson taught me the Catechism."
+
+"Why, Sam, this child can say the Lord's Prayer, the ten Commandments,
+and the Catechism. Ain't this beautiful? Tell me the fifth, dear."
+
+And the child repeated it distinctly and accurately.
+
+"Right. Now, dear, always bear that in mind, especially towards your
+mother. You have an excellent mother; her cares and her toils are many;
+and amidst them all, how well she has done her duty to you. The only way
+she can be repaid, is to find that you are what she desires you to be,
+a good girl. God commands this return to be made, and offers you the
+reward of length of days. Here is a piece of money for you. And now,
+dear," placing her again upon her feet, "you never saw so old a man
+as me, and never will again; and one, too, that came from a far-off
+country, three thousand miles off; it would take you a long time to
+count three thousand; it is so far. Whenever you do what you ought not,
+think of the advice of the 'old Minister.'"
+
+Here Mr. Slick beckoned the mother to the door, and whispered something
+to her, of which, the only words that met my ear were "a trump," "a
+brick," "the other man like him ain't made yet," "do it, he'll talk,
+then."
+
+To which she replied, "I have--oh yes, Sir--by all means."
+
+She then advanced to Mr. Hopewell, and asked him if he would like to
+smoke.
+
+"Indeed I would, dear, but I have no pipe here."
+
+She said her old man smoked of an evening, after his work was done, and
+that she could give him a pipe and some tobacco, if he would condescend
+to use them; and going to the cupboard, she produced a long white clay
+pipe and some cut tobacco.
+
+Having filled and lighted his pipe, Mr. Hopewell said, "What church do
+you go to, dear?"
+
+"The parish church, Sir."
+
+"Right; you will hear Sound doctrine and good morals preached there. Oh
+this a fortunate country, Sam, for the state provides for the religious
+instruction of the poor. Where the voluntary system prevails, the poor
+have to give from their poverty, or go without; and their gifts are so
+small, that they can purchase but little. It's a beautiful system, a
+charitable system, a Christian system. Who is your landlord?"
+
+"Squire Merton, Sir; and one of the kindest masters, too, that ever was.
+He is so good to the poor; and the ladies. Sir, they are so kind, also.
+When my poor daughter Mary was so ill with the lever, I do think she
+would have died but for the attentions of those young ladies; and when
+she grew better, they sent her wine and nourishing things from their own
+table. They will be so glad to see you. Sir, at the Priory. Oh, I wish
+you could see them!"
+
+"There it is, Sam," he continued "That illustrates what I always told
+you of their social system here. We may boast of our independence, but
+that independence produces isolation. There is an individuality about
+every man and every family in America, that gives no right of inquiry,
+and imposes no duty of relief on any one. Sickness, and sorrow, and
+trouble, are not divulged; joy, success, and happiness are not imparted.
+If we are independent in our thoughts and actions, so are we left to
+sustain the burden of our own ills. How applicable to our state is
+that passage of Scripture, 'The heart knoweth its own bitterness, and a
+stranger intermeddleth not with its joy.'
+
+"Now, look at this poor family; here is a clergyman provided for them,
+whom they do not, and are not even expected to pay; their spiritual
+wants are ministered to, faithfully and zealously, as we see by the
+instruction of that little child. Here is a friend upon whom they can
+rely in their hour of trouble, as the bereaved mother did on Elisha.
+'And she went up and laid her child that was dead on the bed of the man
+of God, and shut the door on him, and went out.' And when a long train
+of agitation, mis-government, and ill-digested changes have deranged
+this happy country, as has recently been the case, here is an indulgent
+landlord, disposed to lower his rent or give further time for payment,
+or if sickness invades any of these cottages, to seek out the sufferer,
+to afford the remedies, and by his countenance, his kindness, and
+advice, to alleviate their trouble. Here it is, a positive duty arising
+from their relative situations of landlord and tenant. The tenants
+support the owner, the landlord protects the tenants: the duties are
+reciprocal.
+
+"With _us_ the duties, as far as Christian duties can be said to be
+optional, are voluntary; and the voluntary discharge of duties, like
+the voluntary support of religion, we know, from sad experience, to be
+sometimes imperfectly performed, at others intermitted, and often wholly
+neglected. Oh! it is a happy country this, a great and a good country;
+and how base, how wicked, how diabolical it is to try to set such
+a family as this against their best friends, their pastor and their
+landlord; to instil dissatisfaction and distrust into their simple
+minds, and to teach them to loathe the hand, that proffers nothing but
+regard or relief. It is shocking, isn't it?"
+
+"That's what I often say, Sir," said Mrs. Hodgins, "to my old man, to
+keep away from them Chartists."
+
+"Chartists! dear, who are they? I never heard of them."
+
+"Why, Sir, they are the men that want the five pints."
+
+"Five pints! why you don't say so; oh! they are bad men, have nothing to
+do with them. Five pints! why that is two quarts and a half; that is
+too much to drink if it was water; and if any thing else, it is beastly
+drunkenness. Have nothing to do with them."
+
+"Oh! no, Sir, it is five points of law."
+
+"Tut--tut--tut! what have you got to do with law, my dear?"
+
+"By gosh, Aunty," said Mr. Slick, "you had better not cut that pie: you
+will find it rather sour in the apple sarce, and tough in the paste, I
+tell _you_."
+
+"Yes, Sir," she replied, "but they are a unsettling of his mind. What
+shall I do? for I don't like these night meetings, and he always comes
+home from 'em cross and sour-like."
+
+"Well, I am sorry to hear that," said Mr. Hopewell, "I wish I could see
+him; but I can't, for I am bound on a journey. I am sorry to hear
+it, dear. Sam, this country is so beautiful, so highly cultivated, so
+adorned by nature and art, and contains so much comfort and happiness,
+that it resembles almost the garden of Eden. But, Sam, the Serpent is
+here, the Serpent is here beyond a doubt. It changes its shape, and
+alters its name, and takes a new colour, but still it is the Serpent,
+and it ought to be crushed. Sometimes it calls itself liberal, then
+radical, then chartist, then agitator, then repealer, then political
+dissenter, then anti-corn leaguer, and so on. Sometimes it stings the
+clergy, and coils round them, and almost strangles them, for it knows
+the Church is its greatest enemy, and it is furious against it. Then it
+attacks the peers, and covers them with its froth and slaver, and then
+it bites the landlord. Then it changes form, and shoots at the Queen, or
+her ministers, and sets fire to buildings, and burns up corn to increase
+distress; and, when hunted away, it dives down into the collieries, or
+visits the manufactories, and maddens the people, and urges them on to
+plunder and destruction. It's a melancholy thing to think of; but he is
+as of old, alive and active, seeing whom he can allure and deceive, and
+whoever listens is ruined for ever.
+
+"Stay, dear, I'll tell you what I will do for you. I'll inquire about
+these Chartists; and when I go to London, I will write a little tract
+so plain that any child may read it and understand it; and call it _The
+Chartist_, and get it printed, and I will send you one for your husband,
+and two or three others, to give to those whom they may benefit.
+
+"And now, dear, I must go. You and I will never meet again in this
+world; but I shall often think of you, and often speak of you. I shall
+tell my people of the comforts, of the neatness, of the beauty of an
+English cottage. May God bless you, and so regulate your mind as to
+preserve in you a reverence for his holy word, an obedience to the
+commands of your Spiritual Pastor, and a respect for all that are placed
+in authority over you!"
+
+"Well, it is pretty, too, is this cottage," said Mr. Slick, as we
+strolled back to the inn, "but the handsumestest thing is to hear that
+good old soul talk dictionary that way, aint it? How nateral he is!
+Guess they don't often see such a 'postle as that in these diggins. Yes,
+it's pretty is this cottage; but it's small, arter all. You feel like a
+squirrel in a cage, in it; you have to run round and round, and don't go
+forward none. What would a man do with a rifle here? For my part, I have
+a taste for the wild woods; it comes on me regular in the fall, like the
+lake fever, and I up gun, and off for a week or two, and camp out, and
+get a snuff of the spruce-wood air, and a good appetite, and a bit of
+fresh ven'son to sup on at night.
+
+"I shall be off to the highlands this fall; but, cuss em, they hante got
+no woods there; nothin' but heather, and thats only high enough to tear
+your clothes. That's the reason the Scotch don't wear no breeches, they
+don't like to get 'em ragged up that way for everlastinly, they can't
+afford it; so they let em scratch and tear their skin, for that will
+grow agin, and trowsers won't.
+
+"Yes, it's a pretty cottage that, and a nice tidy body that too, is Mrs.
+Hodgins. I've seen the time when I would have given a good deal to have
+been so well housed as that. There is some little difference atween that
+cottage and a log hut of a poor back emigrant settler, you and I know
+where. Did ever I tell you of the night I spent at Lake Teal, with old
+Judge Sandford?"
+
+"No, not that I recollect."
+
+"Well, once upon a time I was a-goin' from Mill-bridge to Shadbrooke,
+on a little matter of bisness, and an awful bad and lonely road it was,
+too. There was scarcely no settlers in it, and the road was all made
+of sticks, stones, mud holes, and broken bridges. It was een amost
+onpassible, and who should I overtake on the way but the Judge, and his
+guide, on horseback, and Lawyer Traverse a-joggin' along in his gig, at
+the rate of two miles an hour at the fardest.
+
+"'Mornin,' sais the Judge, for he was a sociable man, and had a kind
+word for every body, had the Judge. Few men 'know'd human natur' better
+nor he did, and what he used to call the philosophy of life. 'I am
+glad to see you on the road, Mr. Slick, sais he, 'for it is so bad I
+am afraid there are places that will require our united efforts to pass
+'em.'
+
+"Well, I felt kinder sorry for the delay too, for I know'd we should
+make a poor journey on't, on account of that lawyer critter's gig, that
+hadn't no more busness on that rough track than a steam engine had. But
+I see'd the Judge wanted me to stay company, and help him along, and so
+I did. He was fond of a joke, was the old Judge, and sais he,
+
+"'I'm afraid we shall illustrate that passage o' Scriptur', Mr. Slick,'
+said he, '"And their judges shall be overthrown in stony places." It's
+jist a road for it, ain't it?'
+
+"Well we chattered along the road this way a leetle, jist a leetle
+faster than we travelled, for we made a snail's gallop of it, that's a
+fact; and night overtook us, as I suspected it would, at Obi Rafuse's,
+at the Great Lake; and as it was the only public for fourteen miles, and
+dark was settin' in, we dismounted, but oh, what a house it was!
+
+"Obi was an emigrant, and those emigrants are ginerally so fond of
+ownin' the soil, that like misers, they carry as much of it about 'em
+on their parsons, in a common way, as they cleverly can. Some on 'em
+are awful dirty folks, that's a fact, and Obi was one of them. He kept
+public, did Obi; the sign said it was a house of entertainment for man
+and beast. For critters that ain't human, I do suppose it spoke the
+truth, for it was enough to make a hoss larf, if he could understand it,
+that's a fact; but dirt, wretchedness and rags, don't have that effect
+on me.
+
+"The house was built of rough spruce logs, (the only thing spruce about
+it), with the bark on, and the cracks and seams was stuffed with moss.
+The roof was made of coarse slabs, battened and not shingled, and the
+chimbly peeped out like a black pot, made of sticks and mud, the way
+a crow's nest is. The winders were half broke out, and stopped up with
+shingles and old clothes, and a great bank of mud and straw all round,
+reached half way up to the roof, to keep the frost out of the cellar. It
+looked like an old hat on a dung heap. I pitied the old Judge, because
+he was a man that took the world as he found it, and made no complaints.
+He know'd if you got the best, it was no use complainin' that the best
+warn't good.
+
+"Well, the house stood alone in the middle of a clearin', without an
+outhouse of any sort or kind about it, or any fence or enclosure, but
+jist rose up as a toodstool grows, all alone in the field. Close behind
+it was a thick short second growth of young birches, about fifteen feet
+high, which was the only shelter it had, and that was on the wrong side,
+for it was towards the south.
+
+"Well, when we alighted, and got the baggage off, away starts the guide
+with the Judge's traps, and ups a path through the woods to a settler's,
+and leaves us. Away down by the edge of the lake was a little barn,
+filled up to the roof with grain and hay, and there was no standin' room
+or shelter in it for the hosses. So the lawyer hitches his critter to
+a tree, and goes and fetches up some fodder for him, and leaves him for
+the night, to weather it as he could. As soon as he goes in, I takes
+Old Clay to the barn, for it's a maxim of mine always to look out arter
+number one, opens the door, and pulls out sheaf arter sheaf of grain as
+fast as I could, and throws it out, till I got a place big enough for
+him to crawl in.
+
+"'Now,' sais I, 'old boy,' as I shot to the door arter him, 'if that
+hole ain't big enough for you, eat away till it is, that's all.'
+
+"I had hardly got to the house afore the rain, that had threatened all
+day, came down like smoke, and the wind got up, and it blew like a young
+hurricane, and the lake roared dismal; it was an awful night, and it was
+hard to say which was wus, the Storm or the shelter.
+
+"'Of two evils,' sais I to the lawyer, 'choose the least. It ain't a bad
+thing to be well housed in a night like this, is it?'
+
+"The critter groaned, for both cases was so 'bad he didn't know which
+to take up to defend, so he grinned horrid and said nothin'; and it was
+enough to make him grin too, that's a fact. He looked as if he had got
+hold on a bill o' pains and penalties instead of a bill of costs that
+time, you may depend.
+
+"Inside of the house was three rooms, the keepin' room, where we was all
+half circled round the fire, and two sleepin' rooms off of it. One of
+these Obi had, who was a-bed, groanin', coughin', and turnin' over and
+over all the time on the creakin' bedstead with pleurisy; t'other was
+for the judge. The loft was for the old woman, his mother, and the
+hearth, or any other soft place we could find, was allocated for lawyer
+and me.
+
+"What a scarecrow lookin' critter old aunty was, warn't she? She was all
+in rags and tatters, and though she lived 'longside of the lake the
+best part of her emigrant life, had never used water since she was
+christened. Her eyes were so sunk in her head, they looked like two
+burnt holes in a blanket. Her hair was pushed back, and tied so tight
+with an eel-skin behind her head, it seemed to take the hide with it.
+I 'most wonder how she ever shot to her eyes to go to sleep. She had no
+stockins on her legs, and no heels to her shoes, so she couldn't lift
+her feet up, for fear of droppin' off her slippers; but she just shoved
+and slid about as if she was on ice. She had a small pipe in her mouth,
+with about an inch of a stem, to keep her nose warm, and her skin was
+so yaller and wrinkled, and hard and oily, she looked jist like a dried
+smoked red herrin', she did upon my soul.
+
+"The floor of the room was blacker nor ink, because that is pale
+sometimes; and the utenshils, oh, if the fire didn't purify 'em now
+and ag'in, all the scrubbin' in the world wouldn't, they was past that.
+Whenever the door was opened, in run the pigs, and the old woman hobbled
+round arter them, bangin' them with a fryin' pan, till she seemed out
+o' breath. Every time she took less and less notice of 'em, for she
+was 'most beat out herself, and was busy a gettin' of the tea-kettle to
+bile, and it appeared to me she was a-goin' to give in and let 'em sleep
+with me and the lawyer, near the fire.
+
+"So I jist puts the tongs in the sparklin' coals and heats the eends on
+'em red hot, and the next time they comes in, I watches a chance, outs
+with the tongs, and seizes the old sow by the tail, and holds on till
+I singes it beautiful. The way she let go ain't no matter, but if she
+didn't yell it's a pity, that's all. She made right straight for the
+door, dashed in atween old aunty's legs, and carries her out on her
+back, ridin' straddle-legs like a man, and tumbles her head over heels
+in the duck pond of dirty water outside, and then lays down along side
+of her, to put the fire out in its tail and cool itself.
+
+"Aunty took up the screamin' then, where the pig left off; but her voice
+warn't so good, poor thing! she was too old for that, it sounded like a
+cracked bell; it was loud enough, but it warn't jist so clear. She came
+in drippin' and cryin' and scoldin'; she hated water, and what was wus,
+this water made her dirtier. It ran off of her like a gutter. The way
+she let out agin pigs, travellers and houses of entertainment, was a
+caution to sinners. She vowed she'd stop public next mornin', and bile
+her kettle with the sign; folks might entertain themselves and be hanged
+to 'em, for all her, that they might. Then she mounted a ladder and goes
+up into the loft-to change.
+
+"'Judge' sais I, 'I am sorry, too, I singed that pig's tail arter that
+fashion, for the smell of pork chops makes me feel kinder hungry, and if
+we had 'em, no soul could eat 'em here in such a stye as this. But, dear
+me,' sais I, 'You'd better move, Sir; that old woman is juicy, and I
+see it a comin' through the cracks of the floor above, like a streak of
+molasses.
+
+"'Mr. Slick,' sais he, 'this is dreadful. I never saw any thing so bad
+before in all this country; but what can't be cured must be endured, I
+do suppose. We must only be good-natured and do the best we can, that's
+all. An emigrant house is no place to stop at, is it? There is a tin
+case,' sais he, 'containin' a cold tongue and some biscuits, in my
+portmanter; please to get them out. You must act as butler to-night, if
+you please; for I can't eat any thing that old woman touches.'
+
+"So I spreads one of his napkins on the table, and gets out the
+eatables, and then he produced a pocket pistol, for he was a sensible
+man was the judge, and we made a small check, for there warn't enough
+for a feed.
+
+"Arter that, he takes out a night-cap, and fits it on tight, and then
+puts on his cloak, and wraps the hood of it close over his head, and
+foldin' himself up in it, he went and laid down without ondressin'. The
+lawyer took a stretch for it on the bench, with his gig cushions for a
+pillar, and I makes up the fire, sits down on the chair, puts my legs up
+on the jamb, draws my hat over my eyes, and folds my arms for sleep.
+
+"'But fust and foremost,' sais I, 'aunty, take a drop of the strong
+waters: arter goin' the whole hog that way, you must need some,' and I
+poured her out a stiff corker into one of her mugs, put some sugar and
+hot water to it, and she tossed it off as if she railly did like it.
+
+"'Darn that pig,' said she, 'it is so poor, its back is as sharp as a
+knife. It hurt me properly, that's a fact, and has most broke my crupper
+bone.' And she put her hand behind her, and moaned piteous.
+
+"'Pig skin,' sais I, 'aunty, is well enough when made into a saddle, but
+it ain't over pleasant to ride on bare back that way,' sais I, 'is it?
+And them bristles ain't quite so soft as feathers, I do suppose.'
+
+"I thought I should a died a holdin' in of a haw haw that way. Stifling
+a larf a'most stifles oneself, that's a fact. I felt sorry for her, too,
+but sorrow won't always keep you from larfin', unless you be sorry for
+yourself. So as I didn't want to offend her I ups legs agin to the jam,
+and shot my eyes and tried to go to sleep.
+
+"Well, I can snooze through most any thin', but I couldn't get much
+sleep that night. The pigs kept close to the door, a shovin' agin it
+every now and then, to see all was right for a dash in, if the bears
+came; and the geese kept sentry too agin the foxes; and one old feller
+would squake out "all's well" every five minuts, as he marched up and
+down and back agin on the bankin' of the house.
+
+"But the turkeys was the wust. They was perched upon the lee side of the
+roof, and sometimes an eddy of wind would take a feller right slap off
+his legs, and send him floppin' and rollin' and sprawlin' and screamin'
+down to the ground, and then he'd make most as much fuss a-gettin' up
+into line agin. They are very fond of straight, lines is turkeys. I
+never see an old gobbler, with his gorget, that I don't think of a
+kernel of a marchin' regiment, and if you'll listen to him and watch
+him, he'll strut jist like one, and say, 'halt! dress!' oh, he is a
+military man is a turkey cock: he wears long spurs, carries a stiff
+neck, and charges at red cloth, like a trooper.
+
+"Well then a little cowardly good natured cur, that lodged in an empty
+flour barrel, near the wood pile, gave out a long doleful howl, now and
+agin, to show these outside passengers, if he couldn't fight for 'em, he
+could at all events cry for 'em, and it ain't every goose has a mourner
+to her funeral, that's a fact, unless it be the owner.
+
+"In the mornin' I wakes up, and looks round for lawyer, but he was gone.
+So I gathers up the brans, and makes up the fire, and walks out. The
+pigs didn't try to come in agin, you may depend, when they see'd me;
+they didn't like the curlin' tongs, as much as some folks do, and pigs'
+tails kinder curl naterally. But there was lawyer a-standin' up by the
+grove, lookin' as peeked and as forlorn, as an onmated loon.
+
+"'What's the matter of you, Squire?' sais I. 'You look like a man that
+was ready to make a speech; but your witness hadn't come, or you hadn't
+got no jury.'
+
+"'Somebody has stole my horse,' said he.
+
+"Well, I know'd he was near-sighted, was lawyer, and couldn't see a pint
+clear of his nose, unless it was a pint o' law. So I looks all round and
+there was his hoss, a-standin' on the bridge, with his long tail hanging
+down straight at one eend, and his long neck and head a banging down
+straight at t'other eend, so that you couldn't tell one from t'other or
+which eend was towards you. It was a clear cold mornin'. The storm was
+over and the wind down, and there was a frost on the ground. The critter
+was cold I suppose, and had broke the rope and walked off to stretch his
+legs. It was a monstrous mean night to be out in, that's sartain.
+
+"'There is your hoss,' sais I.
+
+"'Where?' sais he.
+
+"'Why on the bridge,' sais I; "he has got his head down and is a-lookin'
+atween his fore-legs to see where his tail is, for he is so cold, I do
+suppose he can't feel it.'
+
+"Well, as soon as we could, we started; but afore we left, sais the
+Judge to me, 'Mr. Slick,' sais he, 'here is a plaister,' taking out
+a pound note, 'a plaister for the skin the pig rubbed off of the old
+woman. Give it to her, I hope it is big enough to cover it.' And he fell
+back on the bed, and larfed and coughed, and coughed and larfed, till
+the tears ran down his cheeks.
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Slick, "yes, Squire, this is a pretty cottage of Marm
+Hodgins; but we have cottages quite as pretty as this, our side of the
+water, arter all. They are not all like Obi Rafuses, the immigrant. The
+natives have different guess places, where you might eat off the floor
+a'most, all's so clean. P'raps we hante the hedges, and flowers, and
+vines and fixin's, and what-nots."
+
+"Which, alone," I said, "make a most important difference. No, Mr.
+Slick', there is nothing to be compared to this little cottage.
+
+"I perfectly agree with you, Squire," said Mr. Hopewell, "it is quite
+unique. There is not only nothing equal to it, but nothing of its kind
+at all like--_an English cottage_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII. STEALING THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE.
+
+Shortly after our return to the inn, a carriage drove up to the door,
+and the cards of Mr. Merton, and the Reverend Mr. Homily, which
+were presented by the servant, were soon followed by the gentlemen
+themselves.
+
+Mr. Merton said he had been informed by Mrs. Hodgins of our visit to her
+cottage, and from her account of our conversation and persons, he was
+convinced we could be no other than the party described in the "Sayings
+and Doings of Mr. Samuel Slick," as about to visit England with the
+Attache. He expressed great pleasure in having the opportunity of making
+our acquaintance, and entreated us to spend a few days with him at the
+Priory. This invitation we were unfortunately compelled to decline, in
+consequence of urgent business in London, where our immediate presence
+was indispensable.
+
+The rector then pressed Mr. Hopewell to preach for him, on the following
+day at the parish church, which he also declined. He said, that he
+had no sermons with him, and that he had very great objections to
+extemporaneous preaching, which he thought should never be resorted to
+except in cases of absolute necessity. He, however, at last consented to
+do so, on condition that Mrs. Hodgins and her husband attended, and
+upon being assured that it was their invariable custom to be present,
+he said, he thought it not impossible, that he might make an impression
+upon _him_, and as it was his maxim never to omit an opportunity of
+doing good, he would with the blessing of God, make the attempt.
+
+The next day was remarkably fine, and as the scene was new to me,
+and most probably will be so to most of my colonial readers, I shall
+endeavour to describe it with some minuteness.
+
+We walked to the church by a path over the hills, and heard the bells of
+a number of little churches, summoning the surrounding population to the
+House of God. The roads and the paths were crowded with the peasantry
+and their children, approaching the church-yard in different directions.
+The church and the rectory were contiguous to each other, and situated
+in a deep dell.
+
+The former was a long and rather low structure, originally built of
+light coloured stone, which had grown grey with time. It had a large
+square steeple, with pointed corners, like turrets, each of which was
+furnished with a vane, but some of these ornaments were loose and turned
+round in a circle, while others stood still and appeared to be examining
+with true rustic curiosity, the condition of their neighbours.
+
+The old rectory stood close to the church and was very irregularly
+built, one part looking as if it had stepped forward to take a peep at
+us, and another as if endeavouring to conceal itself from view, behind
+a screen of ivy. The windows which were constructed of diamond-shaped
+glass, were almost square, and opened on hinges. Nearly half of the
+house was covered by a rose-tree, from which the lattices peered very
+inquisitively upon the assembled congregation. Altogether it looked like
+the residence of a vigilant man, who could both see and be unseen if he
+pleased.
+
+Near the door of the church were groups of men in their clean
+smock-frocks and straw hats, and of women in their tidy dark dresses and
+white aprons. The children all looked clean, healthy, and cheerful.
+
+The interior of the church was so unlike that of an American one, that
+my attention was irresistibly drawn to its peculiarities. It was low,
+and divided in the centre by an arch. The floor was of stone, and from
+long and constant use, very uneven in places. The pews were much higher
+on the sides than ours, and were unpainted and roughly put together;
+while the pulpit was a rude square box, and was placed in the corner.
+Near the door stood an ancient stone font, of rough workmanship, and
+much worn.
+
+The windows were long and narrow, and placed very high in the walls. On
+the one over the altar was a very old painting, on stained glass, of the
+Virgin, with a hoop and yellow petticoat, crimson vest, a fly cap, and
+very thick shoes. The light of this window was still further subdued by
+a fine old yew-tree, which stood in the yard close behind it.
+
+There was another window of beautifully stained glass, the light of
+which fell on a large monument, many feet square, of white marble. In
+the centre of this ancient and beautiful work of art, were two principal
+figures, with smaller ones kneeling on each side, having the hands
+raised in the attitude of prayer. They were intended to represent some
+of the ancestors of the Merton family. The date was as old as 1575. On
+various parts of the wall were other and ruder monuments of slate-stone,
+the inscriptions and dates of which were nearly effaced by time.
+
+The roof was of a construction now never seen in America; and the old
+oak rafters, which were more numerous, than was requisite, either for
+strength or ornament, were massive and curiously put together, giving
+this part of the building a heavy and gloomy appearance.
+
+As we entered the church, Mr. Hopewell said he had selected a text
+suitable to the times, and that he would endeavour to save the
+poor people in the neighbourhood from the delusions of the chartist
+demagogues, who, it appeared, were endeavouring to undermine the throne
+and the altar, and bring universal ruin upon the country.
+
+When he ascended the pulpit to preach, his figure, his great age, and
+his sensible and benevolent countenance, attracted universal attention.
+I had never seen him officiate till this day; but if I was struck with
+his venerable appearance before, I was now lost in admiration of his
+rich and deep-toned voice, his peculiar manner, and simple style of
+eloquence.
+
+He took for his text these words: "So Absalom stole the hearts of the
+men of Israel." He depicted, in a very striking manner, the arts of this
+intriguing and ungrateful man to ingratiate himself with the people, and
+render the government unpopular. He traced his whole course, from his
+standing at the crowded thoroughfare, and lamenting that the king had
+deputed no one to hear and decide upon the controversies of the people,
+to his untimely end, and the destruction of his ignorant followers. He
+made a powerful application of the seditious words of Absalom: "Oh that
+_I_ were a judge in the land, that every man which hath a suit or cause
+might come unto me, and _I_ would do him justice." He showed the effect
+of these empty and wicked promises upon his followers, who in the holy
+record of this unnatural rebellion are described as "men who went out in
+their simplicity, and knew not anything."
+
+He then said that similar arts were used in all ages for similar
+purposes; and that these professions of disinterested patriotism were
+the common pretences by which wicked men availed themselves of the
+animal force of those "who assemble in their simplicity, and know not
+any thing," to achieve their own personal aggrandisement, and warned
+them, to give no heed to such dishonest people. He then drew a picture
+of the real blessings they enjoyed in this happy country, which, though
+not without an admixture of evil, were as many and as great as the
+imperfect and unequal condition of man was capable either of imparting
+or receiving.
+
+Among the first of these, he placed the provision made by the state for
+the instruction of the poor, by means of an established Church. He said
+they would doubtless hear this wise and pious deed of their forefathers
+attacked also by unprincipled men; and falsehood and ridicule would be
+invoked to aid in the assault; but that he was a witness on its behalf,
+from the distant wilderness of North America, where the voice of
+gratitude was raised to England, whose missionaries had planted a church
+there similar to their own, and had proclaimed the glad tidings of
+salvation to those who would otherwise have still continued to live
+without its pale.
+
+He then pourtrayed in a rapid and most masterly manner the sin and the
+disastrous consequences of rebellion; pointed out the necessity that
+existed for vigilance and defined their respective duties to God, and
+to those who, by his permission, were set in authority over them; and
+concluded with the usual benediction, which, though I had heard it
+on similar occasions all my life, seemed now more efficacious, more
+paternal, and more touching than ever, when uttered by him, in his
+peculiarly patriarchal manner.
+
+The abstract I have just given, I regret to say, cannot convey any
+adequate idea of this powerful, excellent, and appropriate sermon. It
+was listened to with intense interest by the congregation, many of whom
+were affected to tears. In the afternoon we attended church again, when
+we heard a good, plain, and practical discourse from the rector; but,
+unfortunately, he had neither the talent, nor the natural eloquence of
+our friend, and, although it satisfied the judgment, it did not affect,
+the heart like that of the "Old Minister."
+
+At the door we met, on our return, Mrs. Hodgins. "Ah! my dear," said Mr.
+Hopewell, "how do you do? I am going to your cottage; but I am an old
+man now; take my arm--it will support me in my walk."
+
+It was thus that this good man, while honouring this poor woman, avoided
+the appearance of condescension, and received her arm as a favour to
+himself.
+
+She commenced thanking him for his sermon in the morning. She said it
+had convinced her William of the sin of the Chartist agitation, and that
+he had firmly resolved never to meet them again. It had saved him from
+ruin, and made her a happy woman.
+
+"Glad to hear it has done him good, my dear," said he; "it does me good,
+too, to hear its effect. Now, never remind him of past errors, never
+allude to them: make his home cheerful, make it the pleasantest place
+he can find any where, and he won't want to seek amusement elsewhere,
+or excitement either; for these seditious meetings intoxicate by their
+excitement. Oh! I am very glad I have touched him; that I have prevented
+these seditious men from 'stealing his heart.'"
+
+In this way they chatted, until they arrived at the cottage, which
+Hodgins had just reached by a shorter, but more rugged path.
+
+"It is such a lovely afternoon," said Mr. Hopewell, "I believe I will
+rest in this arbour here awhile, and enjoy the fresh breeze, and the
+perfume of your honeysuckles and flowers."
+
+"Wouldn't a pipe be better, Minister?" said Mr. Slick. "For my part, I
+don't think any thing equal to the flavour of rael good gene_wine_ first
+chop tobacco."
+
+"Well, it is a great refreshment, is tobacco," said Mr. Hopewell. "I
+don't care if I do take a pipe. Bring me one, Mr. Hodgins, and one for
+yourself also, and I will smoke and talk with you awhile, for they seem
+as natural to each other, as eating and drinking do."
+
+As soon as these were produced, Mr. Slick and I retired, and requested
+Mrs. Hodgins to leave the Minister and her husband together for a while,
+for as Mr. Slick observed, "The old man will talk it into him like a
+book; for if he was possessed of the spirit of a devil, instead of a
+Chartist, he is jist the boy to drive it out of him. Let him be awhile,
+and he'll tame old uncle there, like a cossit sheep; jist see if he
+don't, that's all."
+
+We then walked up and down the shady lane, smoking our cigars, and Mr.
+Slick observed, "Well, there is a nation sight of difference, too, ain't
+there, atween this country church, and a country meetin' house our side
+of the water; I won't say in your country or my country; but I say _our_
+side of the water--and then it won't rile nobody; for your folks will
+say I mean the States, and our citizens will say I mean the colonies;
+but you and I know who the cap fits, one or t'other, or both, don't we?
+
+"Now here, this old-fashioned church, ain't quite up to the notch, and
+is a leetle behind the enlightment of the age like, with its queer old
+fixin's and what not; but still it looks solemcoly' don't it, and the
+dim light seems as if we warn't expected to be a lookin' about, and as
+if outer world was shot out, from sight and thort, and it warn't _man's_
+house nother.
+
+"I don't know whether it was that dear old man's preachin', and he is
+a brick ain't he? or, whether it's the place, or the place and him
+together; but somehow, or somehow else, I feel more serious to-day
+than common, that's a fact. The people too are all so plain dressed, so
+decent, so devout and no show, it looks like airnest.
+
+"The only fashionable people here was the Squire's sarvants; and they
+_did_ look genteel, and no mistake. Elegant men, and most splendid
+lookin' women they was too. I thought it was some noble, or aid's,
+or big bug's family; but Mrs. Hodgins says they are the people of
+the Squire's about here, the butlers and ladies' maids; and superfine
+uppercrust lookin' folks they be too.
+
+"Then every body walks here, even Squire Merton and his splendiriferous
+galls walked like the poorest of the poor, there was no carriage to the
+door, nor no hosses hitched to the gate, or tied to the back of waggons,
+or people gossipin' outside; but all come in and minded their business,
+as if it was worth attendin' to; and then arter church was finished off,
+I liked the way the big folks talked to the little folks, and enquired
+arter their families. It may he actin', but if it is, it's plaguy good
+actin', I _tell_ you.
+
+"I'm a thinkin' it tante a rael gentleman that's proud, but only a hop.
+You've seen a hop grow, hante you? It shoots up in a night, the matter
+of several inches right out of the ground, as stiff as a poker, straight
+up and down, with a spick and span new green coat and a red nose, as
+proud as Lucifer. Well, I call all upstarts 'hops,' and I believe it's
+only "hops" arter all that's scorny.
+
+"Yes, I kinder like an English country church, only it's a leetle, jist
+a leetle too old fashioned for me. Folks look a leetle too much like
+grandfather Slick, and the boys used to laugh at him, and call him a
+benighted Britisher. Perhaps that's the cause of my prejudice, and yet I
+must say, British or no British, it tante bad, is it?
+
+"The meetin' houses 'our side of the water,' no matter where, but away
+up in the back country, how teetotally different they be! bean't they?
+A great big, handsome wooden house, chock full of winders, painted so
+white as to put your eyes out, and so full of light within, that inside
+seems all out-doors, and no tree nor bush, nor nothin' near it but
+the road fence, with a man to preach in it, that is so strict and
+straight-laced he will do _any thing_ of a week day, and _nothin'_ of
+a Sunday. Congregations are rigged out in their spic and span bran new
+clothes, silks, satins, ribbins, leghorns, palmetters, kiss-me-quicks,
+and all sorts of rigs, and the men in their long-tail-blues, pig-skin
+pads calf-skin boots and sheep-skin saddle-cloths. Here they publish a
+book of fashions, there they publish 'em in meetin'; and instead of a
+pictur, have the rael naked truth.
+
+"Preacher there don't preach morals, because that's churchy, and he
+don't like neither the church nor its morals; but he preaches doctrine,
+which doctrine is, there's no Christians but themselves. Well, the
+fences outside of the meetin' house, for a quarter of a mile or so,
+each side of the house, and each side of the road, ain't to be seen for
+hosses and waggons, and gigs hitched there; poor devils of hosses
+that have ploughed, or hauled, or harrowed, or logged, or snaked, or
+somethin' or another all the week, and rest of a Sunday by alterin'
+their gait, as a man rests on a journey by a alterin' of his sturup, a
+hole higher or a hole lower. Women that has all their finery on can't
+walk, and some things is ondecent. It's as ondecent for a woman to
+be seen walkin' to meetin', as it is to be caught at--what shall I
+say?--why caught at attendin' to her business to home.
+
+"The women are the fust and the last to meetin'; fine clothes cost
+sunthin', and if they ain't showed, what's the use of them? The men folk
+remind me of the hosses to Sable Island. It's a long low sand-bank on
+Nova Scotia coast, thirty miles long and better is Sable Island, and not
+much higher than the water. It has awful breakers round it, and picks
+up a shockin' sight of vessels does that island. Government keeps a
+super-intender there and twelve men to save wracked people, and there is
+a herd of three hundred wild hosses kept there for food for saved crews
+that land there, when provision is short, or for super-intender to catch
+and break for use, as the case may be.
+
+"Well, if he wants a new hoss, he mounts his folks on his tame hosses,
+and makes a dash into the herd, and runs a wild feller down, lugs him
+off to the stable-yard, and breaks him in, in no time. A smart little
+hoss he is too, but he always has an _eye to natur'_ arterwards; _the
+change is too sudden_, and he'll off, if he gets a chance.
+
+"Now that's the case with these country congregations, we know where.
+The women and old tame men folk are, inside; the young wild boys and
+ontamed men folk are on the fences, outside a settin' on the top rail, a
+speculatin' on times or marriages, or markets, or what not, or a walkin'
+round and studyin' hoss flesh, or a talkin' of a swap to be completed of
+a Monday, or a leadin' off of two hosses on the sly of the old deacon's,
+takin' a lick of a half mile on a bye road, right slap a-head, and
+swearin' the hosses had got loose, and they was just a fetchin' of them
+back.
+
+"'Whose side-saddle is this?'
+
+"'Slim Sall Dowdie's.'
+
+"'Shift it on to the deacon's beast, and put his on to her'n and tie the
+two critters together by the tail. This is old Mother Pitcher's waggon;
+her hoss kicks like a grasshopper. Lengthen the breechin', and when
+aunty starts, he'll make all fly agin into shavin's, like a plane. Who
+is that a comin' along full split there a horseback?'
+
+"'It's old Booby's son, Tom. Well, it's the old man's shaft hoss; call
+out whoh! and he'll stop short, and pitch Tom right over his head on the
+broad of his back, whap.
+
+"Tim Fish, and Ned Pike, come scale up here with us boys on the fence.'
+The weight is too great; away goes the fence, and away goes the boys,
+all flyin'; legs, arms, hats, poles, stakes, withes, and all, with an
+awful crash and an awful shout; and away goes two or three hosses that
+have broke their bridles, and off home like wink.
+
+"Out comes Elder Sourcrout. 'Them as won't come in had better stay to
+home,' sais he. And when he hears that them as are in had better stay in
+when they be there, he takes the hint and goes back agin. 'Come, boys,
+let's go to Black Stump Swamp and sarch for honey. We shall be back
+in time to walk home with the galls from night meetin', by airly
+candle-light. Let's go.'
+
+"Well, when they want to recruit the stock of tame ones inside meetin',
+they sarcumvent some o' these wild ones outside; make a dash on 'em,
+catch 'em, dip 'em, and give 'em a name; for all sects don't always
+baptise 'em as we do, when children, but let 'em grow up wild in the
+herd till they are wanted. They have hard work to break 'em in, for they
+are smart ones, that's a fact, but, like the hosses of Sable Island,
+they have always _an eye to natur'_ arterwards; _the change is too
+sudden_, you can't trust 'em, at least I never see one as _I_ could,
+that's all.
+
+"Well, when they come out o' meetin', look at the dignity and sanctity,
+and pride o' humility o' the tame old ones. Read their faces. 'How does
+the print go?' Why this way, 'I am a sinner, at least I was once,
+but thank fortin' I ain't like you, you onconverted, benighted,
+good-for-nothin' critter you.' Read the ontamed one's face, what's the
+print there? Why it's this. As soon as he sees over-righteous stalk by
+arter that fashion, it says, 'How good we are, ain't we? Who wet his hay
+to the lake tother day, on his way to market, and made two tons weigh
+two tons and a half? You'd better look as if butter wouldn't melt in
+your mouth, hadn't you, old Sugar-cane?'
+
+"Now jist foller them two rulin' elders, Sourcrout and Coldslaugh; they
+are plaguy jealous of their neighbour, elder Josh Chisel, that exhorted
+to-day. 'How did you like Brother Josh, to-day?' says Sourcrout, a
+utterin' of it through his nose. Good men always speak through the nose.
+It's what comes out o' the mouth that defiles a man; but there is no
+mistake in the nose; it's the porch of the temple that. 'How did you
+like Brother Josh?'
+
+"'Well, he wasn't very peeowerful.'
+
+"'Was he ever peeowerful?'
+
+"'Well, when a boy, they say he was considerable sum as a wrastler.'
+
+"Sourcrout won't larf, because it's agin rules; but he gig goggles like
+a turkey-cock, and says he, 'It's for ever and ever the same thing with
+Brother Josh. He is like an over-shot mill, one everlastin' wishy-washy
+stream.'
+
+"'When the water ain't quite enough to turn the wheel, and only
+spatters, spatters, spatters,' says Coldslaugh.
+
+"Sourcrout gig goggles again, as if he was swallerin' shelled corn
+whole. 'That trick of wettin' the hay,' says he, 'to make it weigh
+heavy, warn't cleverly done; it ain't pretty to be caught; it's only
+bunglers do that.'
+
+"'He is so fond of temperance,' says Coldslaugh, 'he wanted to make his
+hay jine society, and drink cold water, too.'
+
+"Sourcrout gig goggles ag'in, till he takes a fit of the asmy, sets down
+on a stump, claps both hands on his sides, and coughs, and coughs till
+he finds coughing no joke no more. Oh dear, dear convarted men, though
+they won't larf themselves, make others larf the worst kind, sometimes;
+don't they?
+
+"I do believe, on my soul, if religion was altogether left to the
+voluntary in this world, it would die a nateral death; not that _men
+wouldn't support it_, but because it would be supported _under false
+pretences_. Truth can't be long upheld by falsehood. Hypocrisy would
+change its features, and intolerance its name; and religion would
+soon degenerate into a cold, intriguing, onprincipled, marciless
+superstition, that's a fact.
+
+"Yes, on the whole, I rather like these plain, decent, onpretendin',
+country churches here, although t'other ones remind me of old times,
+when I was an ontamed one too. Yes, I like an English church; but as
+for Minister pretendin' for to come for to go for to preach agin that
+beautiful long-haired young rebel, Squire Absalom, for 'stealin' the
+hearts of the people,' why it's rather takin' the rag off the bush,
+ain't it?
+
+"Tell you what, Squire; there ain't a man in their whole church here,
+from Lord Canter Berry that preaches afore the Queen, to Parson Homily
+that preached afore us, nor never was, nor never will be equal to Old
+Minister hisself for 'stealin' the hearts of the people.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII. NATUR'.
+
+In the course of our journey, the conversation turned upon the several
+series of the "Clockmaker" I had published, and their relative merits.
+Mr. Slick appeared to think they all owed their popularity mainly to the
+freshness and originality of character incidental to a new country.
+
+"You are in the wrong pew here, Squire," said he; "you are, upon my
+soul. If you think to sketch the English in a way any one will stop to
+look at, you have missed a figur', that's all. You can't do it nohow;
+you can't fix it. There is no contrasts here, no variation of colours,
+no light and shade, no nothin'. What sort of a pictur' would straight
+lines of any thing make? Take a parcel of sodjers, officers and all, and
+stretch 'em out in a row, and paint 'em, and then engrave 'em, and put
+it into one of our annuals, and see how folks would larf, and ask, 'What
+boardin'-school gall did that? Who pulled her up out of standin' corn,
+and sot her up on eend for an artist? they'd say.
+
+"There is nothin' here to take hold on. It's so plaguy smooth and high
+polished, the hands slip off; you can't get a grip of it. Now, take Lord
+First Chop, who is the most fashionable man in London, dress him in
+the last cut coat, best trowsers, French boots, Paris gloves, and
+grape-vine-root cane, don't forget his whiskers, or mous-stache, or
+breast-pins, or gold chains, or any thing; and what have you got?--a
+tailor's print-card, and nothin' else.
+
+"Take a lady, and dress her in a'most a beautiful long habit, man's hat,
+stand-up collar and stock, clap a beautiful little cow-hide whip in her
+hand, and mount her on a'most a splendiferous white hoss, with long tail
+and flowin' mane, a rairin' and a cavortin' like mad, and a champin'
+and a chawin' of its bit, and makin' the froth fly from its mouth, a
+spatterin' and white-spottin' of her beautiful trailin', skirt like any
+thing. And what have you got?--why a print like the posted hand-bills of
+a circus.
+
+"Now spit on your fingers, and rub Lord First Chop out of the slate, and
+draw an Irish labourer, with his coat off, in his shirt-sleeves, with
+his breeches loose and ontied at the knees, his yarn stockings and thick
+shoes on; a little dudeen in his mouth, as black as ink and as short as
+nothin'; his hat with devilish little rim and no crown to it, and a hod
+on his shoulders, filled with bricks, and him lookin' as if he was a
+singin' away as merry as a cricket:
+
+   When I was young and unmarried,
+      my shoes they were new.
+   But now I am old and am married,
+      the water runs troo,'
+
+Do that, and you have got sunthin' worth lookin' at, quite
+pictures-quee, as Sister Sall used to say. And because why? _You have
+got sunthin' nateral_.
+
+"Well, take the angylyferous dear a horseback, and rub her out, well, I
+won't say that nother, for I'm fond of the little critturs, dressed or
+not dressed for company, or any way they like, yes, I like woman-natur',
+I tell _you_. But turn over the slate, and draw on t'other side on't
+an old woman, with a red cloak, and a striped petticoat, and a poor
+pinched-up, old, squashed-in bonnet on, bendin' forrard, with a staff
+in her hand, a leadin' of a donkey that has a pair of yaller willow
+saddle-bags on, with coloured vegetables and flowers, and red beet-tops,
+a goin' to market. And what have you got? Why a pictur' worth lookin'
+at, too. Why?--_because it's natur'_.
+
+"Now, look here, Squire; let Copley, if he was alive, but he ain't; and
+it's a pity too, for it would have kinder happified the old man, to see
+his son in the House of Lords, wouldn't it? Squire Copley, you know, was
+a Boston man; and a credit to our great nation too. P'raps Europe never
+has dittoed him since.
+
+"Well, if he was above ground now, alive, and stirrin', why take him
+and fetch him to an upper crust London party; and sais you, 'Old Tenor,'
+sais you, 'paint all them silver plates, and silver dishes, and silver
+coverlids, and what nots; and then paint them lords with their _stars_,
+and them ladies' (Lord if he would paint them with their garters, folks
+would buy the pictur, cause that's nateral) 'them ladies with their
+jewels, and their sarvants with their liveries, as large as life, and
+twice as nateral.'
+
+"Well, he'd paint it, if you paid him for it, that's a fact; for there
+is no better bait to fish for us Yankees arter all, than a dollar. That
+old boy never turned up his nose at a dollar, except when he thought
+he ought to get two. And if he painted it, it wouldn't be bad, I tell
+_you_.
+
+"'Now,' sais you, 'you have done high life, do low life for me, and I
+will pay you well. I'll come down hansum, and do the thing genteel, you
+may depend. Then,' sais you, 'put in for a back ground that noble, old
+Noah-like lookin' wood, that's as dark as comingo. Have you done?' sais
+you.
+
+"'I guess so,' sais he.
+
+"'Then put in a brook jist in front of it, runnin' over stones, and
+foamin' and a bubblin' up like any thing.'
+
+"'It's in,' sais he.
+
+"'Then jab two forked sticks in the ground ten feet apart, this side of
+the brook,' sais you, 'and clap a pole across atween the forks. Is that
+down?' sais you.
+
+"'Yes,' sais he.
+
+"'Then,' sais you, 'hang a pot on that horizontal pole, make a clear
+little wood fire onderneath; paint two covered carts near it. Let an
+old hoss drink at the stream, and two donkeys make a feed off a patch of
+thistles. Have-you stuck that in?'
+
+"'Stop a bit,' says he, 'paintin' an't quite as fast done as writin'.
+Have a little grain of patience, will you? It's tall paintin', makin'
+the brush walk at that price. Now there you are,' sais he. 'What's
+next? But, mind I've most filled my canvass; it will cost you a pretty
+considerable penny, if you want all them critters in, when I come to
+cypher all the pictur up, and sumtotalize the whole of it.'
+
+"'Oh! cuss the cost!' sais you. 'Do you jist obey orders, and break
+owners, that's all you have to do, Old Loyalist.'
+
+"'Very well,' sais he, 'here goes.'
+
+"'Well, then,' sais you, 'paint a party of gipsies there; mind their
+different coloured clothes, and different attitudes, and different
+occupations. Here a man mendin' a harness, there a woman pickin' a
+stolen fowl, there a man skinnin' a rabbit, there a woman with her
+petticoat up, a puttin' of a patch in it. Here two boys a fishin', and
+there a little gall a playin' with a dog, that's a racin' and a yelpin',
+and a barkin' like mad.'
+
+"'Well, when he's done,' sais you, 'which pictur do you reckon is the
+best now, Squire Copely? speak candid for I want to know, and I ask you
+now as a countryman.'
+
+"'Well' he'll jist up and tell you, 'Mr. Poker,' sais he, 'your
+fashionable party is the devil, that's a fact. Man made the town, but
+God made the country. Your company is as formal, and as stiff, and as
+oninterestin' as a row of poplars; but your gipsy scene is beautiful,
+because it's nateral. It was me painted old Chatham's death in the House
+of Lords; folks praised it a good deal; but it was no great shakes,
+_there was no natur' in it_. The scene was real, the likenesses was
+good, and there was spirit in it, but their damned uniform toggery,
+spiled the whole thing--it was artificial, and wanted life and natur.
+Now, suppose, such a thing in Congress, or suppose some feller skiverd
+the speaker with a bowie knife as happened to Arkansaw, if I was to
+paint it, it would be beautiful. Our free and enlightened people is so
+different, so characteristic and peculiar, it would give a great field
+to a painter. To sketch the different style of man of each state, so
+that any citizen would sing right out; Heavens and airth if that don't
+beat all! Why, as I am a livin' sinner that's the Hoosier of Indiana, or
+the Sucker of Illinois, or the Puke of Missouri, or the Bucky of
+Ohio, or the Red Horse of Kentucky, or the Mudhead of Tennesee, or the
+Wolverine of Michigan or the Eel of New England, or the Corn Cracker of
+Virginia! That's the thing that gives inspiration. That's the glass of
+talabogus that raises your spirits. There is much of elegance, and more
+of comfort in England. It is a great and a good country, Mr. Poker, but
+there is no natur in it.'
+
+"It is as true as gospel," said Mr. Slick, "I'm tellin' you no lie. It's
+a fact. If you expect to paint them English, as you have the Blue-Noses
+and us, you'll pull your line up without a fish, oftener than you are
+a-thinkin' on; that's the reason all our folks have failed. 'Rush's book
+is jist molasses and water, not quite so sweet as 'lasses, and not quite
+so good as water; but a spilin' of both. And why? His pictur was of
+polished life, where there is no natur. Washington Irving's book is like
+a Dutch paintin', it is good, because it is faithful; the mop has the
+right number of yarns, and each yarn has the right number of twists,
+(altho' he mistook the mop of the grandfather, for the mop of the man of
+the present day) and the pewter plates are on the kitchen dresser, and
+the other little notions are all there. He has done the most that could
+be done for them, but the painter desarves more praise than the subject.
+
+"Why is it every man's sketches of America takes? Do you suppose it is
+the sketches? No. Do you reckon it is the interest we create? No. Is it
+our grand experiments? No. They don't care a brass button for us, or our
+country, or experiments nother. What is it then? It is because they are
+sketches of natur. Natur in every grade and every variety of form; from
+the silver plate, and silver fork, to the finger and huntin' knife. Our
+artificials Britishers laugh at; they are bad copies, that's a fact; I
+give them up. Let them laugh, and be darned; but I stick to my natur,
+and I stump them to produce the like.
+
+"Oh, Squire, if you ever sketch me, for goodness gracious sake, don't
+sketch me as an Attache to our embassy, with the Legation button, on the
+coat, and black Jube Japan in livery. Don't do that; but paint me in my
+old waggon to Nova Scotier, with old Clay before me, you by my side,
+a segar in my mouth, and natur all round me. And if that is too
+artificial; oh, paint me in the back woods, with my huntin' coat on, my
+leggins, my cap, my belt, and my powder-horn. Paint me with my talkin'
+iron in my hand, wipin' her, chargin' her, selectin' the bullet, placin'
+it in the greased wad, and rammin' it down. Then draw a splendid oak
+openin' so as to give a good view, paint a squirrel on the tip top of
+the highest branch, of the loftiest tree, place me off at a hundred
+yards, drawin' a bead on him fine, then show the smoke, and young squire
+squirrel comin' tumblin' down head over heels lumpus', to see whether
+the ground was as hard as dead squirrels said it was. Paint me nateral,
+I besech you; for I tell you now, as I told you before, and ever shall
+say, there is nothin' worth havin' or knowin', or hearin', or readin',
+or seein', or tastin', or smellin', or feelin' and above all and more
+than all, nothin' worth affectionin' but _Natur_.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV. THE SOCDOLAGER.
+
+As soon as I found my friend Mr. Hopewell comfortably settled in his
+lodgings, I went to the office of the Belgian Consul and other persons
+to obtain the necessary passports for visiting Germany, where I had a
+son at school. Mr. Slick proceeded at the same time to the residence of
+his Excellency Abednego Layman, who had been sent to this country by the
+United States on a special mission, relative to the Tariff.
+
+On my return from the city in the afternoon, he told me he had presented
+his credentials to "the Socdolager," and was most graciously and
+cordially received; but still, I could not fail to observe that there
+was an evident air of disappointment about him.
+
+"Pray, what is the meaning of the Socdolager?" I asked. "I never heard
+of the term before."
+
+"Possible!" said he, "never heerd tell of 'the Socdolager,' why you
+don't say so! The Socdolager is the President of the lakes--he is the
+whale of the intarnal seas--the Indgians worshipped him once on a time,
+as the king of fishes. He lives in great state in the deep waters, does
+the old boy, and he don't often shew himself. I never see'd him myself,
+nor any one that ever had sot eyes on him; but the old Indgians have
+see'd him and know him well. He won't take no bait, will the Socdolager;
+he can't be caught, no how you can fix, he is so 'tarnal knowin', and he
+can't be speared nother, for the moment he sees aim taken, he ryles the
+water and is out of sight in no tune. _He_ can take in whole shoals of
+others hisself, tho' at a mouthful. He's a whapper, that's a fact. I
+call our Minister here 'the Socdolager,' for our _di_plomaters were
+never known to be hooked once yet, and actilly beat all natur' for
+knowin' the soundin's, smellin' the bait, givin' the dodge, or rylin'
+the water; so no soul can see thro' it but themselves. Yes, he is 'a
+Socdolager,' or a whale among _di_plomaters.
+
+"Well, I rigs up this morning, full fig, calls a cab, and proceeds
+in state to our embassy, gives what Cooper calls a lord's beat of six
+thund'rin' raps of the knocker, presents the legation ticket, and was
+admitted to where ambassador was. He is a very pretty man all up his
+shirt, and he talks pretty, and smiles pretty, and bows pretty, and he
+has got the whitest hand you ever see, it looks as white, as a new bread
+and milk poultice. It does indeed.
+
+"'Sam Slick,' sais he, 'as I'm alive. Well, how do you do, Mr. Slick? I
+am 'nation glad to see you, I affection you as a member of our legation.
+I feel kinder proud to have the first literary man of our great nation
+as my Attache.'
+
+"'Your knowledge of human natur, (added to your'n of soft sawder,' sais
+I,) 'will raise our great nation, I guess, in the scale o' European
+estimation.'
+
+"He is as sensitive as a skinned eel, is Layman, and he winced at that
+poke at his soft sawder like any thing, and puckered a little about
+the mouth, but he didn't say nothin', he only bowed. He was a Unitarian
+preacher once, was Abednego, but he swapt preachin' for politics, and a
+good trade he made of it too; that's a fact.
+
+"'A great change,' sais I, 'Abednego, since you was a preachin' to
+Connecticut and I was a vendin' of clocks to Nova Scotia, ain't it?
+Who'd a thought then, you'd a been "a Socdolager," and me your "pilot
+fish," eh!'
+
+"It was a raw spot, that, and I always touched him on it for fun.
+
+"'Sam,' said he, and his face fell like an empty puss, when it gets a
+few cents put into each eend on it, the weight makes it grow twice as
+long in a minute. 'Sam,' said he, 'don't call me that are, except when
+we are alone here, that's a good soul; not that I am proud, for I am
+a true Republican;' and he put his hand on his heart, bowed and smiled
+hansum, 'but these people will make a nickname of it, and we shall never
+hear the last of it; that's a fact. We must respect ourselves, afore
+others will respect us. You onderstand, don't you?'
+
+"'Oh, don't I,' sais I, 'that's all? It's only here I talks this way,
+because we are at home now; but I can't help a thinkin' how strange
+things do turn up sometimes. Do you recollect, when I heard you
+a-preachin' about Hope a-pitchin' of her tent on a hill? By gosh,
+it struck me then, you'd pitch, your tent high some day; you did it
+beautiful.'
+
+"He know'd I didn't like this change, that Mr. Hopewell had kinder
+inoculated me with other guess views on these matters, so he began to
+throw up bankments and to picket in the ground, all round for defence
+like.
+
+"'Hope,' sais he, 'is the attribute of a Christian, Slick, for he hopes
+beyond this world; but I changed on principle.'
+
+"'Well,' sais I, 'I changed on interest; now if our great nation is
+backed by principal and interest here, I guess its credit is kinder well
+built. And atween you and me, Abednego, that's more than the soft-horned
+British will ever see from all our States. Some on 'em are intarmined to
+pay neither debt nor interest, and give nothin' but lip in retarn.'
+
+"'Now,' sais he, a pretendin' to take no notice of this,' you know we
+have the Voluntary with us, Mr. Slick.' He said "_Mister_" that time,
+for he began to get formal on puppus to stop jokes; but, dear me, where
+all men are equal what's the use of one man tryin' to look big? He must
+take to growin' agin I guess to do that. 'You know we have the Voluntary
+with us, Mr. Slick,' sais he.
+
+"'Jist so,' sais I.
+
+"'Well, what's the meanin' of that?'
+
+"'Why,' sais I, 'that you support religion or let it alone, as you like;
+that you can take it up as a pedlar does his pack, carry it till you are
+tired, then lay it down, set on it, and let it support you."
+
+"'Exactly,' sais he; 'it is voluntary on the hearer, and it's jist so
+with the minister, too; for his preachin' is voluntary also. He can
+preach or lot it alone, as he likes. It's voluntary all through. It's a
+bad rule that won't work both ways.'
+
+"'Well,' says I, 'there is a good deal in that, too.' I said that just
+to lead him on.
+
+"'A good deal!' sais he, 'why it's every thing. But I didn't rest on
+that alone; I propounded this maxim to myself. Every man, sais I, is
+bound to sarve his fellow citizens to his utmost. That's true; ain't it,
+Mr. Slick?'
+
+"'Guess so,' sais I.
+
+"'Well then, I asked myself this here question: Can I sarve my fellow
+citizens best by bein' minister to Peach settlement, 'tendin' on a
+little village of two thousand souls, and preachin' my throat sore, or
+bein' special minister to Saint Jimses, and sarvin' our great Republic
+and its thirteen millions? Why, no reasonable man can doubt; so I give
+up preachin'.'
+
+"'Well,' sais I, 'Abednego, you are a Socdolager, that's a fact; you are
+a great man, and a great scholard. Now a great scholard, when he can't
+do a sum the way it's stated, jist states it so--he _can_ do it. Now the
+right way to state that sum is arter this fashion: "Which is best, to
+endeavour to save the souls of two thousand people under my spiritual
+charge, or let them go to Old Nick and save a piece of wild land in
+Maine, get pay for an old steamer burnt to Canada, and uphold the slave
+trade for the interest of the States.'
+
+"'That's specious, but not true,' said he; 'but it's a matter rather for
+my consideration than your'n,' and he looked as a feller does when he
+buttons his trowsers' pocket, as much as to say, you have no right to be
+a puttin' of your pickers and stealers in there, that's mine. 'We will
+do better to be less selfish,' said he, 'and talk of our great nation.'
+
+"'Well,' says I, 'how do we stand here in Europe? Do we maintain the
+high pitch we had, or do we sing a note lower than we did?'
+
+"Well, he walked up and down the room, with his hands onder his
+coat-tails, for ever so long, without a sayin' of a word. At last, sais
+he, with a beautiful smile that was jist skin deep, for it played on his
+face as a cat's-paw does on the calm waters, 'What was you a sayin.' of,
+Mr. Slick?' saw he.
+
+"'What's our position to Europe?' sais I, 'jist now; is it letter A,
+No. 1?'
+
+"'Oh!' sais he, and he walked up and down agin, cypherin' like to
+himself; and then says he, 'I'll tell you; that word Socdolager, and the
+trade of preachin', and clockmakin', it would 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. It
+don't always answer a good, purpose to blart every thing out. But our
+_po_sition,' says I, among the nations of the airth, is it what our
+everlastin' Union is entitled to?'
+
+"'Because,' sais he, 'some day when I am asked out to dinner, some
+wag or another of a lord will call me parson, and ask me to crave a
+blessin', jist to raise the larf agin me for havin' been a preacher.'
+
+"'If he does,' sais I,' jist say, my Attache does that, and I'll jist up
+first and give it to him atween the two eyes; and when that's done, sais
+you, my Lord, that's _your grace_ afore meat; pr'aps your lordship will
+_return thanks_ arter dinner. Let him try it, that's all. But our great
+nation,' sais I, 'tell me, hante that noble stand we made on the right
+of sarch, raised us about the toploftiest?'
+
+"'Oh,' says he 'right of sarch! right of sarch! I've been tryin' to
+sarch my memory, but can't find it. I don't recollect that sarmont about
+Hope pitchin' her tent on the hill. When was it?'
+
+"'It was afore the juvenile-united-democratic-republican association to
+Funnel Hall,' sais I.
+
+"'Oh,' says he, 'that was an oration--it was an oration that.'
+
+"Oh!" sais I, "we won't say no more about that; I only meant it as a
+joke, and nothin' more. But railly now, Abednego, what is the state of
+our legation?"
+
+"'I don't see nothin' ridikilous,' sais he, 'in that are expression, of
+Hope pitchin' her tent on a hill. It's figurativ' and poetic, but it's
+within the line that divides taste from bombast. Hope pitchin' her tent
+on a hill! What is there to reprehend in that?'
+
+"Good airth and seas,' sais I, 'let's pitch Hope, and her tent, and the
+hill, all to Old Nick in a heap together, and talk of somethin' else.
+You needn't be so perkily ashamed of havin' preached, man. Cromwell was
+a great preacher all his life, but it didn't spile him as a Socdolager
+one bit, but rather helped him, that's a fact. How 'av we held our
+footin' here?'
+
+"'Not well, I am grieved to say,' sais he; 'not well. The failure of the
+United States' Bank, the repudiation of debts by several of our States,
+the foolish opposition we made to the suppression of the slave-trade,
+and above all, the bad faith in the business of the boundary question
+has lowered us down, down, e'en a'most to the bottom of the shaft.'
+
+"'Abednego,' sais I, 'we want somethin' besides boastin' and talkin'
+big; we want a dash--a great stroke of policy. Washington hanging Andre
+that time, gained more than a battle. Jackson by hanging Arbuthnot and
+Anbristher, gained his election. M'Kennie for havin' hanged them three
+citizens will be made an admiral of yet, see if he don't. Now if Captain
+Tyler had said, in his message to Congress, 'Any State that repudiates
+its foreign debts, we will first fine it in the whole amount, and then
+cut it off from our great, free, enlightened, moral and intellectual
+republic, he would have gained by the dash his next election, and run up
+our flag to the mast-head in Europe. He would have been popular to home,
+and respected abroad, that's as clear as mud,'
+
+"'He would have done right, Sir, if he had done that,' said Abednego,
+'and the right thing is always approved of in the eend, and always
+esteemed all through the piece. A dash, as a stroke of policy,' said he,
+'has sometimes a good effect. General Jackson threatening France with a
+war, if they didn't pay the indemnity, when he knew the King would make
+'em pay it whether or no, was a masterpiece; and General Cass tellin'
+France if she signed the right of sarch treaty, we would fight both her
+and England together single-handed, was the best move on the political
+chess-board, this century. All these, Sir, are very well in their way,
+to produce an effect; but there's a better policy nor all that, a far
+better policy, and one, too, that some of our States and legislators,
+and presidents, and Socdolagers, as you call 'em, in my mind have got to
+larn yet, Sam.'
+
+"'What's that?' sais I. "For I don't believe in my soul there is nothin'
+a'most our diplomaters don't know. They are a body o' men that does
+honour to our great nation. What policy are you a indicatin' of?'
+
+"'Why,' sais he, '_that honesty is the best policy_.'
+
+"When I heerd him say that, I springs right up on eend, like a rope
+dancer. 'Give me your hand, Abednego,' sais I; 'you are a man, every
+inch of you,' and I squeezed it so hard, it made his eyes water. 'I
+always knowed you had an excellent head-piece,' sais I, 'and now I
+see the heart is in the right place too. If you have thrown preachin'
+overboard, you have kept your morals for ballast, any how. I feel kinder
+proud of you; you are jist a fit representat_ive_ for our great nation.
+You are a Socdolager, that's a fact. I approbate your notion; it's as
+correct as a bootjack. For nations or individuals, it's all the same,
+honesty _is_ the best policy, and no mistake. That,' sais I, 'is the
+hill, Abednego, for Hope to pitch her tent on, and no mistake,' and I
+put my finger to my nose, and winked.
+
+"'Well,' sais he, 'it is; but you are a droll feller, Slick, there is
+no standin' your jokes. I'll give you leave to larf if you like, but you
+must give me leave to win if I can. Good bye. But mind, Sam, our
+dignity is at stake. Let's have no more of Socdolagers, or Preachin', or
+Clockmakin', or Hope pitchin' her tent. A word to the wise. Good bye.'
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Slick, "I rather like Abednego's talk myself. I kinder
+think that it will be respectable to be Attache to such a man as that.
+But he is goin' out of town for some time, is the Socdolager. There is
+an agricultural dinner, where he has to make a conciliation speech; and
+a scientific association, where there is a piece of delicate brag and
+a bit of soft sawder to do, and then there are visits to the nobility,
+peep at manufactures, and all that sort of work, so he won't be in town
+for a good spell, and until then, I can't go to Court, for he is to
+introduce me himself. Pity that, but then it'll give me lots o' time to
+study human natur, that is, if there is any of it left here, for I have
+some doubts about that. Yes, he is an able lead horse, is Abednego; he
+is a'most a grand preacher, a good poet, a first chop orator, a
+great diplomater, and a top sawyer of a man, in short--he _is_ a
+_Socdolager_."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV. DINING OUT.
+
+My visit to Germany was protracted beyond the period I had originally
+designed; and, during my absence, Mr. Slick had been constantly in
+company, either "dining out" daily, when in town, or visiting from one
+house to another in the country.
+
+I found him in great spirits. He assured me he had many capital stories
+to tell me, and that he rather guessed he knew as much of the English,
+and a leetle, jist a leetle, grain more, p'raps, than they knew of the
+Yankees.
+
+"They are considerable large print are the Bull family," said he; "you
+can read them by moonlight. Indeed, their faces ain't onlike the moon
+in a gineral way; only one has got a man in it, and the other hain't
+always. It tante a bright face; you can look into it without winkin'.
+It's a cloudy one here too, especially in November; and most all the
+time makes you rather sad and solemncoly. Yes, John is a moony man,
+that's a fact, and at the full a little queer sometimes.
+
+"England is a stupid country compared to our'n. _There it no variety
+where there it no natur_. You have class variety here, but no
+individiality. They are insipid, and call it perlite. The men dress
+alike, talk alike, and look as much alike as Providence will let 'em.
+The club-houses and the tailors have done a good deal towards this, and
+so has whiggism and dissent; for they have destroyed distinctions.
+
+"But this is too deep for me. Ask Minister, he will tell you the cause;
+I only tell you the fact.
+
+"Dinin' out here, is both heavy work, and light feedin'. It's monstrous
+stupid. One dinner like one rainy day (it's rained ever since I
+been here a'most), is like another; one drawin'-room like another
+drawin'-room; one peer's entertainment, in a general way, is
+like another peer's. The same powdered, liveried, lazy, idle,
+good-for-nothin', do-little, stand-in-the-way-of-each-other,
+useless sarvants. Same picturs, same plate, same fixin's, same
+don't-know-what-to-do-with-your-self-kinder-o'-lookin'-master. Great
+folks are like great folks, marchants like marchants, and so on. It's a
+pictur, it looks like life, but' it tante. The animal is tamed here; he
+is fatter than the wild one, but he hante the spirit.
+
+"You have seen-Old Clay in a pastur, a racin' about, free from harness,
+head and tail up, snortin', cavortin', attitudinisin' of himself. Mane
+flowin' in the wind, eye-ball startin' out, nostrils inside out a'most,
+ears pricked up. _A nateral hoss_; put him in a waggon, with a rael spic
+and span harness, all covered over with brass buckles and brass knobs,
+and ribbons in his bridle, rael jam. Curb him up, talk Yankee to him,
+and get his ginger up. Well, he looks well; but he is '_a broke hoss_.'
+He reminds you of Sam Slick; cause when you see a hoss, you think of his
+master: but he don't remind you of the rael '_Old Clay_,' that's a fact.
+
+"Take a day here, now in town; and they are so identical the same, that
+one day sartificates for another. You can't get out a bed afore twelve,
+in winter, the days is so short, and the fires ain't made, or the room
+dusted, or the breakfast can't be got, or sunthin' or another. And if
+you did, what's the use? There is no one to talk to, and books only
+weaken your understandin', as water does brandy. They make you let
+others guess for you, instead of guessin' for yourself. Sarvants spile
+your habits here, and books spite your mind. I wouldn't swap ideas with
+any man. I make my own opinions, as I used to do my own clocks; and I
+find they are truer than other men's. The Turks are so cussed heavy,
+they have people to dance for 'em; the English are wus, for they hire
+people to think for 'em. Never read a book, Squire, always think for
+yourself.
+
+"Well, arter breakfast, it's on hat and coat, ombrella in hand, (don't
+never forget that, for the rumatiz, like the perlice, is always on the
+look out here, to grab hold of a feller,) and go somewhere where
+there is somebody, or another, and smoke, and then wash it down with a
+sherry-cobbler; (the drinks ain't good here; they hante no variety in
+them nother; no white-nose, apple-jack, stone-wall, chain-lightning,
+rail-road, hail-storm, ginsling-talabogus, switchel-flip, gum-ticklers,
+phlem-cutters, juleps, skate-iron, cast-steel, cock-tail, or nothin',
+but that heavy stupid black fat porter;) then down to the coffee-house,
+see what vessels have arrived, how markets is, whether there is a chance
+of doin' any thin' in cotton or tobacco, whose broke to home, and so
+on. Then go to the park, and see what's a goin' on there; whether those
+pretty critturs, the rads are a holdin' a prime minister 'parsonally
+responsible,' by shootin' at him; or whether there is a levee, or the
+Queen is ridin' out, or what not; take a look at the world, make a visit
+or two to kill time, when all at once it's dark. Home then, smoke a
+cigar, dress for dinner, and arrive at a quarter past seven.
+
+"Folks are up to the notch here when dinner is in question, that's a
+fact, fat, gouty, broken-winded, and foundered as they be. It's rap,
+rap, rap, for twenty minutes at the door, and in they come, one arter
+the other, as fast as the sarvants can carry up their names. Cuss
+them sarvants! it takes seven or eight of 'em to carry a man's name up
+stairs, they are so awful lazy, and so shockin' full of porter. If a
+feller was so lame he had to be carried up himself, I don't believe on
+my soul, the whole gang of them, from the Butler that dresses in the
+same clothes as his master, to Boots that ain't dressed at all, could
+make out to bowse him up stairs, upon my soul I don't.
+
+"Well, you go in along with your name, walk up to old aunty, and make a
+scrape, and the same to old uncle, and then fall back. This is done
+as solemn, as if a feller's name was called out to take his place in a
+funeral; that and the mistakes is the fun of it. There is a sarvant at
+a house I visit at, that I suspicion is a bit of a bam, and the critter
+shows both his wit and sense. He never does it to a 'somebody,' 'cause
+that would cost him his place, but when a 'nobody' has a droll name,
+he jist gives an accent, or a sly twist to it, that folks can't help a
+larfin', no more than Mr. Nobody can feelin' like a fool. He's a droll
+boy, that; I should like to know him.
+
+"Well, arter 'nouncin' is done, then comes two questions--do I know
+anybody here? and if I do, does he look like talk or not? Well, seein'
+that you have no handle to your name, and a stranger, it's most likely
+you can't answer these questions right; so you stand and use your eyes,
+and put your tongue up in its case till it's wanted. Company are all
+come, and now they have to be marshalled two and two, lock and lock, and
+go into the dinin'-room to feed.
+
+"When I first came I was nation proud of that title, 'the Attache;' now
+I am happified it's nothin' but 'only an Attache,' and I'll tell you
+why. The great guns, and big bugs, have to take in each other's ladies,
+so these old ones have to herd together. Well, the nobodies go together
+too, and sit together, and I've observed these nobodies are the
+pleasantest people at table, and they have the pleasantest places,
+because they sit down with each other, and are jist like yourself,
+plaguy glad to get some one to talk to. Somebody can only visit
+somebody, but nobody can go anywhere, and therefore nobody sees and
+knows twice as much as somebody does. Somebodies must be axed, if they
+are as stupid as a pump; but nobodies needn't, and never are, unless
+they are spicy sort o' folks, so you are sure of them, and they have all
+the fun and wit of the table at their eend, and no mistake.
+
+"I wouldn't take a title if they would give it to me, for if I had one,
+I should have a fat old parblind dowager detailed on to me to take in
+to dinner; and what the plague is her jewels and laces, and silks and
+sattins, and wigs to me? As it is, I have a chance to have a gall to
+take in that's a jewel herself--one that don't want no settin' off, and
+carries her diamonds in her eyes, and so on. I've told our minister not
+to introduce me as an Attache no more, but as Mr. Nobody, from the State
+of Nothin', in America, _that's natur agin_.
+
+"But to get back to the dinner. Arter you are in marchin' order, you
+move in through two rows of sarvants in uniform. I used to think they
+was placed there for show, but it's to keep the air off of folks a goin'
+through the entry, and it ain't a bad thought, nother.
+
+"Lord, the first time I went to one o' these grand let offs I felt
+kinder skeery, and as nobody was allocated to me to take in, I goes in
+alone, not knowin' where I was to settle down as a squatter, and kinder
+lagged behind; when the butler comes and rams a napkin in my hand, and
+gives me a shove, and sais he, 'Go and stand behind your master, sir,'
+sais he. Oh Solomon! how that waked me up. How I curled inwardly when he
+did that. 'You've mistaken the child,' sais I mildly, and I held out
+the napkin, and jist as he went to take it, I gave him a sly poke in the
+bread basket, that made him bend forward and say 'eugh.' 'Wake Snakes,
+and walk your chalks,' sais I, 'will you?' and down I pops on the fust
+empty chair. Lord, how white he looked about the gills arterwards;
+I thought I should a split when I looked at him. Guess he'll know an
+Attache when he sees him next time.
+
+"Well, there is dinner. One sarvice of plate is like another sarvice
+of plate, any one dozen of sarvants are like another dozen of sarvants,
+hock is hock, and champaigne is champaigne--and one dinner is like
+another dinner. The only difference is in the thing itself that's
+cooked. Veal, to be good, must look like any thing else but veal; you
+mustn't know it when you see it, or it's vulgar; mutton must be incog.
+too; beef must have a mask on; any thin' that looks solid, take a spoon
+to; any thin' that looks light, cut with a knife; if a thing looks like
+fish, you may take your oath it is flesh; and if it seems rael flesh,
+it's only disguised, for it's sure to be fish; nothin' must be
+nateral, natur is out of fashion here. This is a manufacturin' country,
+everything is done by machinery, and that that ain't must be made to
+look like it; and I must say, the dinner machinery is parfect.
+
+"Sarvants keep goin' round and round in a ring, slow, but sartain, and
+for ever, like the arms of a great big windmill, shovin' dish after
+dish, in dum show, afore your nose, for you to see how you like the
+flavour; when your glass is empty it's filled; when your eyes is off
+your plate, it's off too, afore you can say Nick Biddle.
+
+"Folks speak low here; steam is valuable, and noise onpolite. They call
+it a "_subdued tone_." Poor tame things, they are subdued, that's a
+fact; slaves to an arbitrary tyrannical fashion that don't leave 'em no
+free will at all. You don't often speak across a table any more nor you
+do across a street, but p'raps Mr. Somebody of West Eend of town, will
+say to a Mr. Nobody from West Eend of America: 'Niagara is noble.'
+Mr. Nobody will say, 'Guess it is, it got its patent afore the "Norman
+_Conquest_," I reckon, and afore the "_subdued_ tone" come in fashion.'
+Then Mr. Somebody will look like an oracle, and say, 'Great rivers and
+great trees in America. You speak good English.' And then he will seem
+surprised, but not say it, only you can read the words on his face,
+'Upon my soul, you are a'most as white as us.'
+
+"Dinner is over. It's time for ladies to cut stick. Aunt Goosey looks
+at the next oldest goosey, and ducks her head, as if she was a goin'
+through a gate, and then they all come to their feet, and the goslins
+come to their feet, and they all toddle off to the drawin' room
+together.
+
+"The decanters now take the "grand tour" of the table, and, like most
+travellers, go out with full pockets, and return with empty ones. Talk
+has a pair of stays here, and is laced up tight and stiff. Larnin' is
+pedantic; politics is onsafe; religion ain't fashionable. You must tread
+on neutral ground. Well, neutral ground gets so trampled down by both
+sides, and so plundered by all, there ain't any thing fresh or good
+grows on it, and it has no cover for game nother.
+
+"Housundever, the ground is tried, it's well beat, but nothin' is put
+up, and you get back to where you started. Uncle Gander looks at next
+oldest gander hard, bobs his head, and lifts one leg, all ready for a
+go, and says, 'Will you take any more wine?' 'No, sais he, 'but I take
+the hint, let's jine the ladies.'
+
+"Well, when the whole flock is gathered in the goose pastur, the
+drawin'-room, other little flocks come troopin' in, and stand, or walk,
+or down on chairs; and them that know each other talk, and them that
+don't twirl their thumbs over their fingers; and when they are tired of
+that, twirl their fingers over their thumbs. I'm nobody, and so I goes
+and sets side-ways on an ottarman, like a gall on a side-saddle, and
+look at what's afore me. And fust I always look at the galls.
+
+"Now, this I will say, they are amazin' fine critters are the women
+kind here, when they are taken proper care of. The English may stump the
+univarse a'most for trainin' hosses and galls. They give 'em both plenty
+of walkin' exercise, feed 'em regular, shoe 'em well, trim 'em neat, and
+keep a beautiful skin on 'em. They keep, 'em in good health, and don't
+house 'em too much. They are clippers, that's a fact. There is few
+things in natur, equal to a hoss and a gall, that's well trained and in
+good condition. I could stand all day and look at 'em, and I call myself
+a considerable of a judge. It's singular how much they are alike too,
+the moment the trainin' is over or neglected, neither of 'em is fit to
+be seen; they grow out of shape, and look coarse.
+
+"They are considerable knowin' in this kind o' ware too, are the
+English; they vamp 'em up so well, it's hard to tell their age, and I
+ain't sure they don't make 'em live longer, than where the art ain't
+so well pract_ised_. The mark o' mouth is kept up in a hoss here by the
+file, and a hay-cutter saves his teeth, and helps his digestion. Well,
+a dentist does the same good turn for a woman; it makes her pass for
+several years younger; and helps her looks, mends her voice, and makes
+her as smart as a three year old.
+
+"What's that? It's music. Well, that's artificial too, it's scientific
+they say, it's done by rule. Jist look at that gall to the piany: first
+comes a little Garman thunder. Good airth and seas, what a crash! it
+seems as if she'd bang the instrument all to a thousand pieces. I guess
+she's vexed at somebody and is a peggin' it into the piany out of spite.
+Now comes the singin'; see what faces she makes, how she stretches her
+mouth open, like a barn door, and turns up the white of her eyes, like
+a duck in thunder. She is in a musical ecstasy is that gall, she feels
+good all over, her soul is a goin' out along with that ere music. Oh,
+it's divine, and she is an angel, ain't she? Yes, I guess she is, and
+when I'm an angel, I will fall in love with her; but as I'm a man, at
+least what's left of me, I'd jist as soon fall in love with one that
+was a leetle, jist a leetle more of a woman, and a leetle, jist a leetle
+less of an angel. But hullo! what onder the sun is she about, why her
+voice is goin' down her own throat, to gain strength, and here it comes
+out agin as deep toned as a man's; while that dandy feller along side
+of her, is singin' what they call falsetter. They've actilly changed
+voices. The gall sings like a man, and that screamer like a woman. This
+is science: this is taste: this is fashion; but hang me if it's natur.
+I'm tired to death of it, but one good thing is, you needn't listen
+without you like, for every body is talking as, loud as ever.
+
+"Lord, how extremes meet sometimes, as Minister says. _Here_, how,
+fashion is the top of the pot, and that pot hangs on the highest hook on
+the crane. In _America_, natur can't go no farther; it's the rael thing.
+Look at the women kind, now. An Indgian gall, down South, goes most
+naked. Well, a splendiferous company gall, here, when she is _full
+dressed_ is only _half covered_, and neither of 'em attract you one mite
+or morsel. We dine at two and sup at seven; _here_ they lunch at two,
+and dine at seven. The words are different, but they are identical
+the same. Well, the singin' is amazin' like, too. Who ever heerd them
+Italian singers recitin' their jabber, showin' their teeth, and cuttin'
+didoes at a great private consart, that wouldn't take his oath he had
+heerd niggers at a dignity ball, down South, sing jist the same, and
+jist as well. And then do, for goodness' gracious' sake, hear that great
+absent man, belongin' to the House o' Commons, when the chaplain says
+'Let us pray!' sing right out at once, as if he was to home, 'Oh! by all
+means,' as much as to say, 'me and the powers above are ready to hear
+you; but don't be long about it.'
+
+"Ain't that for all the world like a camp-meetin', when a reformed
+ring-tail roarer calls out to the minister, 'That's a fact, Welly Fobus,
+by Gosh; amen!' or when preacher says, 'Who will be saved?' answers, 'Me
+and the boys, throw us a hen-coop; the galls will drift down stream on a
+bale o' cotton.' Well then, _our_ very lowest, and _their_ very highest,
+don't always act pretty, that's a fact. Sometimes '_they repudiate_.'
+You take, don't you?
+
+"There is another party to-night; the flock is a thinnin' off agin; and
+as I want a cigar most amazin'ly, let's go to a divan, and some other
+time, I'll tell you what a swoi_ree_ is. But answer me this here
+question now, Squire: when this same thing is acted over and over, day
+after day, and no variation, from July to etarnity, don't you think
+you'd get a leetle--jist a leetle more tired of it every day, and wish
+for natur once more. If you wouldn't I would, that's all."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Attache, by Thomas Chandler Haliburton
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