MR. EDITOR,--Many months having passed away since I last addressed
you, I have flattered myself, as most old men are apt to do on such
occasions, that you might very possibly begin to feel some little
inclination to hear from me once more. Know then, my good sir, that I
am still in the land of the living, and have collected several "odds
and ends" of matters and things in general, which you may use or not,
for your "Messenger," as the fancy strikes you.
Among the rest, I will proceed to give you a new classification of the
Animal Kingdom--at least so far as our own race is concerned; a
classification formed upon principles materially different from those
adopted by the great father of Natural History--Linnæus, who you know,
classed us with whales and bats, under the general term, Mammalia!
Now, I have always thought this too bad--too degrading for the lords
and masters (as we think ourselves) of all other animals on the face
of the earth; and who deserve a distinct class to themselves, divided
too into more orders than any other--nay, into separate orders for the
two sexes. With much study, therefore, and not less labor, I have
digested a system which assumes mental--instead of bodily
distinctions, as much more certain and suitable guides in our
researches. This may be applied without either stripping or partially
exposing the person, as father Linnæus' plan would compel us to do,
whenever we were at a loss to ascertain (no unfrequent occurrence by
the way, in these days) whether the object before us was really one of
the Mammalia class or not: for such are the marvellous, ever-varying
metamorphoses wrought by modern fashions in the exteriors of our race,
that the nicest observers among us would be entirely "at fault" on
many occasions, to tell whether it was fish, flesh, or fowl that they
saw. My plan, therefore, has at least one material advantage over the
other; and it is quite sufficient, I hope, very soon to carry all
votes in its favor.
With whales and bats we shall no longer be classed!--if your old
friend can possibly help it; and he is not a little confident of his
powers to do so; for he believes he can demonstrate that there is not
a greater difference between the form, size and habits of the bats and
whales themselves, than he can point out between the manners, customs,
pursuits, and bodily and mental endowments of the different orders of
mankind; and, therefore, _ex necessitate rei_, there should be a
classification different from any yet made. The honor of this
discovery, I here beg you to witness, that I claim for myself.
Before I proceed farther, I will respectfully suggest a new definition
of man himself; as all heretofore attempted have been found defective.
The Greeks, for example, called him "Anthropos"--an animal that turns
his eyes upwards; forgetting (as it would seem) that all domestic
fowls, especially turkeys, ducks and geese, frequently do the same
thing; although it must be admitted, that the act in them is always
accompanied by a certain twist of the head, such as man himself
generally practices when he means to look particularly astute. One of
their greatest philosophers--the illustrious Plato--perceiving the
incorrectness of this definition, attempted another, and defined man
to be "a two legged animal without feathers:" but this very inadequate
description was soon "blown sky high" by the old cynic Diogenes, who,
having picked a cock quite clean of his plumage, threw him into
Plato's school, crying out at the same time, "Behold Plato's man!"
True, this is an old story; but none the worse for that. This was such
"a settler,"--to borrow a pugilistic term--as completely to
discourage, for a long time, all farther attempts to succeed in this
very difficult task; nor indeed, do I recollect, from that day to the
present, any now worth mentioning. "_The grand march of mind_,"
however, has become of late years, so astoundingly rapid, and so many
things heretofore pronounced to be _unknowable_, have been made as
plain as the nose on our faces, that Man himself--the great discoverer
of all these wonders, should no longer be suffered (if his own powers
can prevent it) to be consorted, as he has so long been, with a class
of living beings so vastly inferior to himself. To rescue him
therefore from _this_ degradation, shall be my humble task, since it
is one of those attempts wherein--even to fail--must acquire some
small share of glory.
I will define him then, to be _A self-loving, self-destroying animal_,
and will maintain the correctness and perfectly exclusive character of
the definition, against all impugners or objectors, until some one of
them can point out to me among all the living beings on the face of
the earth, either any beast, bird, fish, reptile, insect, or
animalcula, that is distinguished by these very opposite and directly
contradictory qualities. Man alone possesses--man alone displays them
both; and is consequently distinguished from all the rest of animated
nature in a way that gives him an indisputable right to a class of his
own.
I will next proceed to enumerate the different orders into which this
most wonderful class is divided. The females, God bless them, being
entitled, by immemorial usage, to the first rank, shall receive the
first notice; {358} and I will rank in the first order all those who
have unquestionable claims to pre-eminence.
_Order 1st._ The _Loveables_.--This order is very numerous, and forms
by far the most important body in every community, being distinguished
by all the qualities and endowments--both physical and
intellectual--which can render our present state of existence most
desirable--most happy. Their beauties charm--their virtues adorn every
walk of life. All that is endearing in love and affection--either
filial, conjugal, or parental: all that is soothing and consolatory in
affliction; all that can best alleviate distress, cheer poverty, or
mitigate anguish: every thing most disinterested, most enduring, most
self-sacrificing in friendship--most exemplary in the performance of
duty: all which is most delightful in mental intercourse, most
attractive and permanently engaging in domestic life: in short, every
thing that can best contribute to human happiness in this world, must
be ascribed, either directly or indirectly, much more to their
influence than to all other temporal causes put together; and would
the rest of their sex only follow their admirable example, this
wretched world of ours would soon become a secondary heaven.
_Order 2d._ The _Conclamantes_, which, for the benefit of your more
English readers, I will remark, is a Latin word, meaning--_those who
clamor together_. They possess two qualities or traits in common with
certain birds, such as rooks, crows and blackbirds, that is, they are
_gregarious_ and marvellously _noisy_; for whenever they collect
together, there is such a simultaneous and apparently causeless
chattering in the highest key of their voices, as none could believe
but those who have had the good or ill fortune (I will not say which)
to hear it. But there is this marked characteristic difference. The
latter utter sounds significant of sense, and perfectly intelligible,
often very sprightly and agreeable too, when you can meet them one at
a time; nor is juxta-position at all necessary to their being heard;
for you will always be in ear-shot of them, although separated by the
entire length or breadth of the largest entertaining-room any where to
be found. Their proper element--the one wherein they shine, or rather
sound most--is the atmosphere of a "_sware-ree_" party, or a squeeze:
but as to the particular purpose for which Nature designed them, I
must e'en plead _ignorance_; not, my good sir, that I would have you
for one moment to suppose, that I mean any invidious insinuation by
this excuse.
_Order 3d._ The _Ineffables_.--I almost despair of finding language to
describe--even the general appearance of this order, much less those
mental peculiarities by which they are to be distinguished from the
rest of their sex. But I must at least strive to redeem my pledge, and
therefore proceed to state, that they rarely ever seem to be more than
half alive: that their countenances always indicate (or are designed
to do so) a languor of body scarcely bearable, and the most
touching--the most exquisite sensibility of soul; that even the most
balmy breezes of spring, should they accidentally find access to them,
would visit them much too roughly: that to speak above a low murmur
would almost be agony, and to eat such gross food as ordinary mortals
feed upon would be certain death. As to their voices, I am utterly
hopeless of giving the faintest idea, unless permitted both to resort
to supposition and to borrow Nic Bottom's most felicitous epithet of
"a sucking dove." You have only to imagine such a thing, (it is no
greater stretch of fancy than writers often call upon us to make) and
then to imagine what kind of tones "a sucking-dove" would elicit; and
you will certainly have quite as good an idea of the voice of an
Ineffable as you could possibly have, without actually hearing it. No
comparison drawn from any familiar sounds can give the faintest idea
of it, for it is unique and _sui generis_. This order serves the
admirable moral purpose of continually teaching, in the best
practicable manner, the virtue of patience to all--who have anything
to do with it.
_Order 4th._ The _Tongue-tied_, or _Monosyllabic_.--This order can
scarcely be described--unless by negations; for they say little or
nothing themselves, and, therefore, but little or nothing can be said
of them; unless it were in the Yankee mode of _guessing_; which, to
say the least of it, would be rather unbecoming in so scientific a
work as I design mine to be. The famous Logadian Art of extracting
sun-beams from cucumbers would be quite easy in practice compared with
the art of extracting anything from these good souls beyond a "_yes_"
or a "_no_," as all have found to their cost, who ever tried to keep
up the ball of conversation among them; the labor of Sysiphus was
child's play to it. They serve however one highly useful purpose, and
that is, to furnish a perpetual refutation of the base slander which
one of the old English poets has uttered against the whole sex in
these often quoted lines--
"I think, quoth Thomas, women's tongues
Of aspen-leaves are made."
_Order 5th._ In vivid and startling contrast to the preceding order, I
introduce--The hoidening _Tom-Boys_. These are a kind of "Joan
D'Arkies," (if I may coin such a term), female in appearance, but male
in impudence, in action, in general deportment. They set at naught all
customary forms, all public sentiment, all those long established
canons, sanctioned by both sexes, for regulating female conduct; and
they practise, with utter disregard of consequences, all such
masculine feats and reckless pranks, as must _unsex_ them, so far as
behavior can possibly do it. They affect to despise the company of
their own sex; to associate chiefly with ours, but with the most
worthless part of them, provided only, they be young, wild, prodigal
and in common parlance--_fashionable_, and alike regardless of what
may be thought or said of them. The more delicate their figures, the
more apparently frail their constitutions, the greater seems to be
their rage for exhibiting the afflicting contrast between masculine
actions performed with powers fully adequate to achieve them, and
attempted--apparently at the risk of the limbs, if not the lives, of
the rash and nearly frantic female adventurers. Egregiously mistaking
eccentricity for genius--outrages upon public sentiment for
independence of spirit, and actions which should disgrace a man, or
render him perfectly ridiculous, for the best means of catching a
husband, they make themselves the pity of the wise and good, the scorn
and derision of all the other orders of the community, who see through
the flimsy and ridiculous veil of their conduct, the true motives from
which it proceeds.
_Order 6th._ The _Hydrophobists_.--These are, at all times, such
haters of water--especially if that unsavory {359} article called
_soap_ be mixed with it--that insanity is by no means necessary, as in
the case of animals affected by canine madness, to elicit their
characteristic feeling. Their persons and their houses too, when they
have any, all present ocular proofs of it; proofs, alas! which nothing
but the luckless objects of their hatred can "_expunge_," if I may
borrow a term lately become very fashionable. Whether this antipathy
be natural or superinduced by the dread of catching cold, I can not
pretend to say; but its effects are too notorious, too often matters
of the most common observation, for its existence to be doubted. The
striking contrast, however, which it exhibits to that admirable
quality--_cleanliness_, aids much in teaching others the duty of
acquiring and constantly practising the latter.
_Order 7th._ The _Bustlers_.--The difference between this order and
the last mentioned is so great, so radical, so constantly forced upon
our notice, that they might almost be ranked in distinct classes: for
the members of the order now under consideration, are such dear lovers
of both the articles which the others hate, as to keep them in almost
ceaseless appliance. At such times, neither the members of their
families, nor their guests, can count, for many minutes together, upon
remaining safe from involuntary sprinklings and ablutions. And
what--with their usual accompaniments of dusters, brooms, mops, and
scrubbing brushes, if you find any secure place either to sit or
stand, you will owe it more to your good luck than to any preconcerted
exemption between the mistresses and their operatives. "_Fiat cleaning
up, ruat cælum,_" is both their law and their practice. After all
however, they are, in general, well meaning, good hearted souls; those
only excepted among them, whose perpetual motion is kept up by a
modicum of the Xantippe blood, which developes its quality in such
outward appliances to the heads, backs and ears of their servants--as
key-handles, sticks, switches, boxings and scoldings.
_Order 8th._ The _Peace-Sappers_.--These, like the underground
artists, after whom I have ventured in part to name them, always work
_secretly_; but whereas, the sappers employed in war, confine their
humane labors solely to the immediate destruction of walls,
fortifications and houses, with all their inhabitants, thereby putting
the latter out of their misery at once; the _peace-sappers_ make the
excellence of _their art_ to consist in causing the sufferings which
they inflict to be protracted--even to the end of life, be that long
or short. The master spirits of this order view with ineffable scorn
such of their formidable sisterhood as are incapable, from actual
stupidity, of exciting any other kind of family and neighborhood
quarrels, than those plain, common-place matters which soon come to an
explanation, and end in a renewal of friendly intercourse and a
reciprocation of good offices. _They_ despise--utterly despise--such
petty game; and never attempt sapping but with a confident belief--not
only that its authors will escape all suspicion, but that its effects
will be deeply and most painfully felt--probably during the entire
lives of all its devoted victims. Their powers of flattery and skill
in every species of gossipping, gain them an easy admittance, before
they are found out, into most families wherein they have set their
hearts upon becoming visiters. There they are always eager listeners
to every thing that may be said in the careless, innocent hours of
domestic intercourse; and being entirely unsuspected plotters of
mischief, they treasure up as a miser would his gold, every single
word or expression that can possibly be so tortured as to embroil
their confiding hosts with some one or all of their neighbors. If no
word nor expression has been heard during a long intercourse which can
either fairly or falsely be imputed to envy, jealousy or ill-will
towards others; absolute falsehoods will most artfully be fabricated
to attain their never-forgotten, never-neglected purpose: for they
sicken at the very sight of family peace--of neighborhood-harmony; and
"the gall of bitterness," that incessantly rankles in their bosoms can
find no other vent--no other alleviation--than in laboring to destroy
every thing of the kind. Their communications being always conveyed
under the strongest injunctions of secrecy--the most solemn
protestations of particular regard and friendship for the depositaries
of these secrets, it often happens that entire neighborhoods are set
in a flame, and most of the families in it rendered bitter enemies to
each other, without a single one knowing, or even suspecting what has
made them so.
The Romans had a most useful custom of tying a wisp of hay around the
horns of all their mischievous and dangerous cattle, by way of caveat
to all beholders to keep out of their way: and could some similar
contrivance be adopted for distinguishing the _Peace-Sappers_, as far
off as _they_ could be seen, the inventor thereof would well deserve
the united thanks and blessings of every civilized community.
_Order 9th._ The _Linguis Bellicosæ_, or _Tongue Warriors_.--The
distinguishing characteristic of this order is, an insatiable passion
for rendering their faculty of speech the greatest possible annoyance
to all of their own race--whether men, women or children, who come in
their way: and few there are who can always keep out of it, however
assiduously they may strive to do so. Most of them are very early
risers, for _the unruly evil_, as St. James calls it, is a great enemy
to sleep. When once on their feet, but a few minutes will elapse
before you hear their tongues ringing the matutinal peal to their
servants and families. But far, very far, different is it from that of
the _church-going bell_, which is a cheering signal of approaching
attempts to do good to the souls of men; whereas the tongue-warrior's
peal is a summons for all concerned to prepare for as much harm being
done to their bodies as external sounds, in their utmost discord, can
possibly inflict. Nothing that is said or done can extort a word even
of approbation much less of applause; for the feeling that would
produce it does not exist; but a cataract is continually poured forth
of personal abuse, invective and objurgation, which, if it be not
quite as loud and overwhelming as that of Niagara, is attributable
more to the want of power, than of the will to make it so. It has been
with much fear and trembling, my good sir, that I have ventured to
give you the foregoing description; nor should I have done it, had I
not confided fully in your determination not to betray me to these
hornets in petticoats.
Having done with the description of the female orders of our race, as
far as I can, at present recollect their number and distinctive
characters, I now proceed to that of my own sex.
_Order 1st._ The _Great and Good Operatives_.--Although {360} in
counting this order I will not venture quite as far as the Latin poet
who asserted, that "they were scarce as numerous as the gates of
Thebes, or the mouths of the Nile," it must be admitted that the
number is most deplorably small, compared with that of the other
orders. The _multum in parvo_, however, applies with peculiar force to
the _Great and Good Operatives_. _All the orders_ certainly have
intellects of some kind, which they exercise after fashions of their
own--sometimes beneficially to themselves and others; then again
injuriously, if not destructively to both. But only the individuals of
this order always make the use of their mental powers for which they
were bestowed; and hence it is that I have distinguished them as I
have done. How far this distinction is appropriate, others must
decide, after an impartial examination of the grounds upon which I
mean to assert the justice of its claim to be adopted. Here they are.
It is to _this_ order we must ascribe all which is truly glorious in
war, or morally and politically beneficial in peace: to the exercise
of their talents, their knowledge and their virtues, we are indebted
for every thing beneficent in government or legislation; and by their
agency, either direct or indirect, are all things accomplished which
can most conduce to the good and happiness of mankind; unless it be
that large portion of the god-like work which can better be achieved
by the first order of the other sex.
_Order 2d._ _Ipomœa Quamoclit_, or the Busy Bodies.--These, like the
little plants after which I have ventured to name them, have a
surprising facility at creeping or running, either under, through,
around, or over any obstacles in their way. Their ruling passion
consists in a most inordinate and unexplainable desire to pry into and
become thoroughly acquainted with every person's private concerns, but
their own; to the slightest care or examination of which, they have
apparently an invincible antipathy. Has any person a quarrel or
misunderstanding with one or more of his neighbors, they will worm
out, by hook or by crook, all the particulars; not with any view, even
the most distant, of reconciling the parties, (for peace-making is no
business of theirs), but for the indescribable pleasure of gaining a
secret, which all their friends, as the whole of their acquaintance
are called, will be invited, as fast as they are found, to aid them in
keeping. Is any man or woman much in debt, the neighboring busy-bodies
will very soon be able to give a better account of the amount than the
debtors themselves; but it will always be communicated with such
earnest injunctions of secrecy from the alleged fear of injuring the
credit of the parties, as to destroy _that_ credit quite as
effectually as a publication of bankruptcy would do. Does the sparse
population of a country neighborhood afford so rare and titillating a
subject as a courtship, it furnishes one of the highest treats a
busy-body can possibly have; and it not unfrequently happens that this
courtship is, at least interrupted, if not entirely broken off, by the
exuberant outpourings and embellishments of his delight at possessing
such a secret, and at the prospect of participating in all the
customary junketings and feastings upon such joyous occasions. The
whole of this order are great carriers and fetchers of every species
of country intelligence; great intimates (according to their account)
of all great people; and above all--great locomotives. But, unlike
their namesakes, the machines so called, they rarely if ever move
straightforward; having a decided preference for that kind of zig-zag,
hither and thither course, which takes them, in a time inconceivably
short, into every inhabited hole and corner within their visiting
circle, which is always large enough to keep them continually on the
pad.
N.B. There is an order of the other sex so nearly resembling the one
just described, that I am in a great quandary whether I should not
have united them, since the principal difference which I can discover,
after much study is, that the former wears petticoats and the latter
pantaloons. You and your readers must settle it, for Oliver Oldschool
can not.
_Order 3d._ _Noli me tangere_, or _Touch me not_.--These are so
super-eminently sensitive and irritable, that should you but crook
your finger at them apparently by way of slight, nothing but your
blood can expiate the deadly offence: and whether that blood is to be
extracted by a bout at fisty cuffs or cudgelling, or by the more
genteel instrumentality of dirk, sword or pistol, must depend upon the
relative rank and station of the parties concerned. If you belong not
to that tribe embraced by the very comprehensive but rather equivocal
term--_gentlemen_, you may hope to escape with only a few bruises or
scarifications; but should your luckless destiny have placed you among
_them_, death or decrepitude must be your portion, unless you should
have the fortune to inflict it on your adversary.
_Order 4th._ The _Gastronomes_.--The description of this order
requires but few words. Their only object in life seems to be--to
tickle their palates, and to provide the ways and means of provoking
and gratifying their gormandizing appetites. They would travel fifty
miles to eat a good dinner, sooner than move fifty inches to do a
benevolent action; and would sacrifice fame, fortune and friends,
rather than forego what they call the pleasures of the table. They
show industry in nothing but catering for their meals; animation in
nothing but discussions on the qualities and cookery of different
dishes; and the only strong passion they ever evince is, that which
reduces them merely to the level of beasts of prey. During the brief
period of their degraded existence, they live despised and scoffed at
by all but their associates, and die victims to dropsy, gout, palsy
and apoplexy.
_Order 5th._ The _Brain Stealers_.--The chief difference between this
and the preceding order is, that the former steal their own brains by
eating, the latter by drinking. For the idea conveyed by the term
brain-stealers, I acknowledge myself indebted to Cassio in the play of
Othello, where, in a fit of remorse for getting drunk, he is made to
exclaim, "Oh! that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal
away their brains!" This order may well follow its predecessor in
dignity, or rather in _uselessness_, since the greatest optimist ever
born would be puzzled to find out the way in which either can render
any real, essential service to mankind. Although the alleged excuse
for their practice--so long as they retain sense enough to offer
any--is to cheer the spirits--to gladden the heart, the undeniable
effect of that practice is, to depress the one, and to pain the other.
Melancholy expels merriment, and the solitary feeling banishes the
social; for the intolerable shame inspired by the consciousness of the
{361} self-larceny they are continually committing, drives them into
secret places for its perpetration; and into solitude during the short
intervals between their self-destructive acts, to brood over their own
indelible disgrace, the hopeless misery they inflict on all their
friends and relatives, and the damning guilt they incur if there be
any truth in Holy Writ--any such thing as eternal punishment in
another world, for deeds voluntarily perpetrated in our present state
of existence. But these are matters which never for a moment seem to
arrest their desperate course. During the few intervals of sanity
which chance rather than design seems to afford them, the retrospect
is so full of self-condemnation, agonizing remorse, and awful
anticipations of future retribution, of future and eternal punishment,
that they recklessly hasten to drown all feeling--all consciousness of
existence in the deadly draughts which they continually swallow. Thus
they linger out their brief and pitiable lives in a kind of comatose
stupor--a wretched burden and disgrace to themselves and a misery
beyond description to all connected with them.
_Order 6th._ The _Devilish Good Fellows_.--These possess, in an
eminent degree, the art of concealing much thorough selfishness under
the guise of what are called _companionable qualities_; for although
loud professors of sociality and great company keepers, (except that
of the ladies, which they never voluntarily seek,) they mix in society
rather oftener at other people's expense than their own. Their money
is lavished chiefly on themselves, except the modicum most skilfully
expended in purchasing a character for generosity, and that which in
common parlance is miscalled _good fellowship_. This is easily and
often most profitably done, by giving a few well-timed dinners,
suppers, and card-parties to their select companions and _bosom
friends_, whose money they scruple not to win on such occasions to the
last cent; having first made these dear objects of their disinterested
regard drunk, while they kept sober for the purpose, although
apparently encountering a similar risk of intoxication. All they do is
for effect--for gulling others to their own advantage, rather than for
any particular pleasure which they themselves derive from their own
actions. Thus they become uproarious at the convivial board, not so
much from impulse as design; not to excite themselves but their
companions; and frequently clamor for "pushing the bottle," (for they
are brain stealers) more to stultify others than to exhilirate their
own feelings. They are great depositaries and retailers of all such
anecdotes and stories as are called _good_, but rather on account of
their obscenity than their genuine humor or wit. Now and then they
incontinently perpetrate puns; make practical jokes; and are always
merry in appearance, (whatever the real feelings may be) so far as
antic contortions of the risible muscles can make them so. But they
are utter strangers to that genuine hilarity of heart which imparts
perennial cheerfulness to the countenances of all who are blessed with
it, and which springs from a consciousness--both of good motives and
good actions. Their lives are spent in a feverish course of
sensuality--often of the lowest, the very grossest kind; and they
generally die of a miserable old age, just as truly rational,
temperate and moral people reach the prime of life.
_Order 7th._ The _Philo-Mammonites_, or _Money Lovers_.--Although this
term would comprehend a most numerous and motley host, if the mere
existence of the passion itself were deemed a sufficient distinction,
yet I mean to apply the designation only to such abortions of our race
as love money for _itself alone_, independently as it would seem, both
of its real and adventitiously exchangeable value. Others burn with
affection for the beloved article, only as a means to attain the ends
which they most passionately desire. These ends are as countless as
the sands; some, for example, make it the grand object of their
temporal existence to buy fine clothes, others fine equipages; others
again fine houses, fine furniture, fine pictures, fine books--in
short, _fine any thing_ which the world calls so, whatever they
themselves may think of it; for, as Dr. Franklin most truly says,
"_other peoples' eyes cost us more than our own_." The exclusive
money-lovers despise what others love; with "the fleshly lusts that
war against the souls" of other men, and _cost money_, they have
nothing to do--no, not they! and even the common necessaries and
comforts of life are all rejected for the sake of making, hoarding,
and contemplating the dear--all-absorbing object of the only affection
they are capable of feeling. In this respect, the money lover differs
entirely, not only from all other human beings, but from every race of
brutes, reptiles, and insects yet discovered. _They_, for instance,
accumulate the food which they love, evidently for _use_, and not
solely to look at, to gloat upon, as the ultimate, the exclusive
source of gratification. _Their accumulation_, therefore, is but the
means of attaining the end--_consumption_, from which all their real
enjoyment seems to be anticipated. The propensity to collect for
future use, which is called instinct in the latter, is identical with
what is deemed the love of money, as it operates upon all the orders
of mankind, except the _Philo Mammonites_. With the former, it is not
the money they love, but something for which they have a passionate
regard, that they know their money can procure: with the latter, the
sole enjoyment (if indeed they may be thought capable of any) seems to
consist in the mere looking at their hoards, and in the consciousness
of being able to exclaim--"all this is _mine_, nothing but the
inexorable tyrant death can take it away. Let others call it pleasure
and happiness to spend money, if they are fools enough to do so; we
deem it the only pleasure and happiness to make and keep it." To such
men, the common feelings of humanity--the ordinary ties that bind
together families and communities, are things utterly
incomprehensible; and consequently neither the sufferings of their
fellow men, nor their utmost miseries are ever permitted, for one
moment, to interfere with that darling object which occupies their
souls, to the exclusion of all others. This they for ever pursue, with
an ardor that no discouragement can check; a recklessness of public
sentiment that defies all shame; and often with a degree of
self-inflicted want, both of food and raiment, which must be witnessed
to be believed.
_Order 8th._ The _Confiscators_.--In this order must be included
(strange as it may seem) not only all thieves, pickpockets, swindlers,
robbers and professional gamblers, but even many others, who, although
professing most sanctimonious horror at the bare idea of violating the
_letter_ of the laws relative to property, scruple not to disregard
their _spirit_, whenever pelf is to be made by {362} it. To make money
is the great end of their existence; but the means are left to time
and circumstances to suggest--always, however, to be used according to
the law-verbal, in such cases made and provided. The general title
indicates rather the _wills_ than the _deeds_ of the whole order; the
former being permanent, intense, and liable to no change--whereas the
latter terminate, now and then, in such uncomfortable results as loss
of character, imprisonment, and hanging. _Self-appropriation_, without
parting with any equivalent, without incurring any loss that can
possibly be avoided, is the cardinal, the paramount law with every
grade: they differ only in the "_modus operandi_." Some, for example,
work by fraud--others by force; some by superior skill, or exclusive
knowledge--while hosts of others rely for success upon practising on
the passions and vices, or the innocence and gullibility of their
fellow-men. To do this the more effectually, they make much use of the
terms justice, honesty, fair-dealing, in their discourse, but take
special care to exclude them from their practice; for _they_ are to
prosper, even should the Devil take all at whose expense that
prosperity has been achieved, if, indeed, he deemed them worth taking,
after their dear friends, the confiscators, have done with them.
_Order 9th._ The _Blatterers_.--Although this word is now nearly
obsolete, or degraded to the rank of vulgarisms, in company with many
other good old terms of great force and fitness, once deemed of
sterling value, I venture to use it here, because I know, in our whole
language, no other so perfectly descriptive of this order; nor,
indeed, any other which conveys the same idea. And here (if you will
pardon another digression) I cannot forbear to express my regret at
being compelled, as it were, to take leave of so many old
acquaintances in our mother tongue, who have been expelled from modern
parlance and writing. Our literary tastes and language will require
but very little more sublimation--little more polishing and refining,
to render that tongue scarcely intelligible to persons whose
misfortune it was to be educated some half century ago, unless,
indeed, they will go to school again. To call things by their right
names, is among the "_mala prohibita_" in the canons of modern
criticism; the strength, fitness, and power of old words, must give
way to the indispensable euphony of new ones; and all the qualities
once deemed essential to good style, must now be sacrificed, or, at
least, hold a far inferior rank to mere smoothness, polish, and
harmony of diction. I might give you quite a long catalogue of highly
respectable and significant old words, once the legal currency of
discourse, which have long since been turned out of doors, to make
room for their modern correlatives; but neither my time nor space will
permit me to mention more than the following, out of some hundreds.
For instance, my old acquaintance, and perhaps yours, the word
"breeches," has been dismissed for "_unmentionables_," or
"_inexpressibles_;"--"shifts" and "petticoats" are now yclept "_under
dress_;" and even "hell" itself, according to the authority of a
highly polished Divine, perhaps now living, must hereafter be softened
and amplified into the phrase, "a place which politeness forbids to
mention." But let me return to the description of the Blattering
order.
To say, as I was very near doing, that their peculiar trait is "_to
have words at will_," would have conveyed a very false notion; for
that phrase is properly applicable only to such persons as can talk or
be silent--can restrain or pour out their discourse at pleasure. But
the Blatterers, although their words are as countless as the sands,
seem to exercise no volition over them whatever, any more than a sieve
can be said to do over the water that may be poured into it. Through
and through the liquid will and must run, be the consequences what
they may; and out of the mouths of the Blatterers must their words
issue, let what will happen. So invariable is this the case, that we
might almost say of their discourse as the Latin poet has so happily
said of the stream of Time:
"Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis aevum."
They will unconsciously talk to themselves, if they can find no one
else to talk to; but this soliloquizing they are rarely forced to
perform--for so great are their diligence and tact in hunting up some
unlucky wight or other upon whom to vent their words, that they are
seldom unsuccessful in their search. Horace, in one of his epistles,
has most pathetically described, in his own person, the sufferings of
all those who are so luckless as to be caught by one of these very
benevolent tormentors of their species; and he has hit off, most
admirably, their multiform powers of inflicting annoyance. But many
ways and means, never "dreamt of in his philosophy," have since been
discovered, which it devolves upon others, far his inferiors, to
describe. In regard, for instance, to the choice of subjects, if a
Blatterer may be deemed capable of choosing, our modern logocracies
have opened a field of almost boundless extent, which, in Horace's
day, was a "_terra incognita_." Their loquacity would utterly shame
that ancient braggart, whose boast it was, that he could extemporize
two hundred Latin verses, while standing on one leg; and their
matchless talents for political mistification--for comminuting, and
spreading out all sorts of materials susceptible of being used for
party purposes, were never called forth, and consequently never
developed, until many a century after Horace was in his grave. The
present age--I may say, _the present times_, may justly claim the
distinguished honor not only of furnishing more aliment for the
nurture of the Blattering order than any other age or times--but, on
the political economy principle, that, "_demand will always beget
supply_," to them must be awarded the exclusive merit of furnishing a
much greater number of such patriotic operatives than ever could be
found before, since our father Noah left his ark. In proof of this
assertion, I would ask, where is there now any hole or corner, either
in public or private life, in which Blatterers may not often be heard?
Where is there any electioneering ground--any hustings to hold an
election--any forensic assemblage, or legislative halls, exempt
entirely from these most successful confounders and despisers of all
grammatical and rhetorical rules--of all the plainest dictates of
common sense? As every thing they utter seems the result rather of
chance than design, it might be supposed that the former would
occasionally lead them, (especially when acting as public
functionaries,) at least into some approximation towards argument or
eloquence; but, alas! no such chance ever befalls them. By a kind of
fatality, apparently unsusceptible of change or "shadow of turning,"
all their efforts at {363} either eloquence or argument, turn out most
pitiable or ridiculous abortions; for they invariably mistake
assertion for the latter, and empty, bombastic declamation and
gasconading for the former. Vociferation they always mistake for
sense, and personal abuse of every body opposed to them, for the best
means of promoting what they understand by the term, "public
good"--meaning, thereby, the good of whatever party they take under
their special care.
_Order 10th._ The _Would Be's_, or _Preposterous Imitators_.--This,
probably, is the most numerous of all the orders of our class,
although very far from comprehending the whole human race, as that
witty satyrist Horace would have us believe, with his "_Nemo contentus
vivat_." But it includes all, who by their array and management of
"the outward man," would pass themselves off, upon society, for
something upon which nature has put her irrevocable veto. Some few of
the brute creation have been charged (falsely as I humbly conceive)
with this warring against her absolute decrees; for, as far as we can
judge, they are all perfectly content with their own forms and
conditions, and live out their respective times without apeing, or
manifesting any desire to ape, either the appearance or manners of
their fellow-brutes, as _we_ so often and abortively do those of our
fellow-men. It is true that the monkey, one of the accused parties,
seems to possess no small talent in this way; but if the exercise of
it were fully understood, it appears probable that we should always
find it to be done at our expense, and in derision of those only who
are continually aping something above their powers--as much as to say,
(had they the gift of speech) "Risum teneatis Amici?"--see what fools
ye are, to labor so hard and so vainly, in efforts to do what _we_ can
do better than yourselves! If we consider their tricks and their
travesties in any other point of view, we shall commit the same
ludicrous blunder that one of our Would Be's of the olden time was
said once to have committed at a certain foreign court, "in mistaking
a sarcasm for a compliment," to the great amusement of all who had
cognizance of the fact, except the poor Americans, of whom he was
rather an unlucky sample.
The poor frog has also been accused of this preposterous mimicry; but
it is only a single case, much at war with our knowledge of this
apparently unambitious quadruped or reptile, (I am not naturalist
enough to know which to call it)--much at war, too, with the chivalric
principles of attacking none incapable of self-defence; and
_moreover_, it is related by a professed inventor of fables, with
whose professional license of fibbing we have all been familiar from
our childhood, and are therefore prepared to estimate at its true
value. I allude, as you must suppose, to our school-boy tale, wherein
it is asserted (believe it who can) that a poor frog, demented by
vanity, burst himself open, and of course perished, in his
impracticable efforts to swell himself to the unattainable size of the
portly ox. Why this far-fetched and incredible story should ever have
been invented for illustrating a matter of frequent occurrence among
ourselves, I never could well understand. The constant puffings and
swellings-out of thousands and tens of thousands of our own class, to
attain dimensions which nothing but gum-elastic minds and bodies, or
something still more expansive, could qualify them to attain, are
quite sufficient, manifest, and ridiculous, to render useless all
resort to the invention of fabulous tales--all appeal to the imagined
follies and gratuitously assumed vices of brute-beasts, reptiles and
insects, for the laudable purpose of proving that man himself is no
better than a brute in many of his propensities and habits. As to his
particular folly of trying to change himself into something which he
never can be, why should fabulists or any others attempt to drag the
poor monkeys, frogs, and other animals into such a co-partnery,
without a solitary authenticated fact to warrant the imputation, when
innumerable facts are daily occurring among ourselves, to satisfy even
the most sceptical, both in regard to the indigenous growth of this
folly, and of man's exclusive right to it. The Would Be's, in fact,
are to be seen almost in every place, and in all the walks of life;
but especially in villages, towns, cities, and at medicinal springs,
for in these the chances of attracting notice being generally
proportioned to the population, there will always be more
notice-seekers--in other words, more Would Be's than elsewhere.
Streets and public squares constitute the great outdoor theatre for
their multiform exhibitions. The first you meet perhaps, is one who is
enacting the profound thinker, although, probably, if the truth were
known, not three ideas that could lead to any useful result, have ever
crossed his brain, once a year, since he was born. His pace is slow,
but somewhat irregular and zig-zag; his eyes are generally fixed on
the ground, as it were geologizing; the tip of his fore-finger is on
his nose, or his upper lip compressed between that finger and his
thumb; the other hand and arm unconsciously swung behind his back; and
so deep is his abstraction, that, should you be meeting him, you must
step aside, or risk a concussion of bodies, which must end either in a
fight or mutual apologies.
The next sample, probably, may be in quite a different style, although
equally burlesque and preposterous. This one may be striving to play
the gentleman of high official station, or great celebrity for
talents, learning, or some other attainment which deservedly elevates
him in the estimation of mankind. But mistaking exterior appearances
for sure manifestations of internal qualities and endowments, which he
is incapable of acquiring, he foolishly imagines that by means of the
former he can pass himself off for what he wishes. Thus you will meet
him, strutting and swaggering along, most majestically, with head
erect, elevated chest, and perpendicular body--with a face, the
owl-like solemnity of which nothing but the look of that sapient
animal itself can equal, and a pomposity of air and manner which says,
as far as pantomime can express words--"Who but _I_--_I myself_--_I_;
look at _me_, ye mean and contemptible fellows, one and all!"
Pass him as soon as you have had your laugh out, and you will not go
far before you will meet some other, probably quite dissimilar to both
the others, although actuated by the same indomitable passion for
conquering nature. The two former moved at a rate such as would suit a
funeral procession; but your next man may be seen hurrying along with
the speed of a courier despatched after an accoucheur, or for a doctor
to one at the point of death. His legs are moving with the utmost
rapidity short of running, and his feet are {364} thrown forward with
a kind of sling, as if he were trying to kick off his shoes; while his
arms, from the shoulder joint to the extremities, are alternately
swung with a force and quickness of motion, as if he expected from
them the same service that a boatman does from his oars. This worthy
gentleman's highest ambition is, to be mistaken for a man nearly
overwhelmed with business so multifarious and important, as scarcely
to allow him time to eat or sleep, when it is very probable that he
either has none at all, or none which would prevent him from moving
quite as slowly as he pleased.
When tired with contemplating what I will venture to call the
physiognomy of walking, you may betake yourself to some large dinner
party, should your good fortune have furnished you with an invitation.
There you will rarely fail to have an _in-door_ treat quite equal, if
not superior to the former, in witnessing other modes developed by
speech, in which "the Would Be's" betray their ruling passion--a
treat, by the way, which some travesty wag has most maliciously called
"_the feast of reason and the flow of soul_," when all who have ever
tried it, perfectly well know, that in nineteen cases out of twenty,
it is very little more than the flow of good liquor, and the feast of
good viands--not that _I_, Mr. Editor, mean to object to _either_,
when _used in a way_ to heighten all the innocent enjoyments of social
intercourse, without endangering health or shortening life, as they
are too often made to do. But having been always accustomed to deem it
very disgraceful for rational beings to rank either eating or drinking
to excess among these enjoyments, I cannot forbear to enter my protest
against any such misnomer. Might I be permitted here to say what
should be the chief object of all social parties whatever, I would
decide that it should be _mutual improvement_, and that the
individuals who compose them should consider themselves as members of
a kind of joint stock company, met, on such occasions, to perfect each
other in their parts, as performers in the great drama of human
life--that whenever called on _to act_, they might acquit themselves
most naturally, agreeably, and usefully, both to themselves and
others. Few indeed, "and far between," will be the dinner parties
answering this description; for, in general, there are no social
meetings at which you will find a greater assemblage of the Would
Be's. Here you will often find very garrulous and deep critics in
wine, who if the truth were known, would probably vastly prefer a
drink of fourth proof whiskey, gin or brandy, to the choicest products
of the best vineyards in the world. Occasionally you may also see
exquisite amateurs of music, who, would they be candid, must plead
guilty of utter ignorance on the subject, or confess a decided
preference for some such old acquaintance as "Poor Betty Martin tip
toe fine," or "Yankee Doodle," on a jews-harp or hurdy-gurdy, to the
finest compositions of the most celebrated masters, performed by
themselves, in their highest style, on their favorite instruments. A
good assortment too of gormandizers is rarely wanting at such places;
men whose gift of speech is never exercised but in praise of good
cookery--whose mouths seem formed for little else than to eat and
drink, and whose stomachs may truly be called "_omnibuses_," being
depositories for full as great a variety of dead eatable substances,
as the vehicles properly so called are of living bodies. The chief
difference consists in the latter moving on four wheels--the former on
two legs! There, likewise, may sometimes be seen the Virtuoso, "_rara
avis in terris_," at least in our land, whose affected skill in
ancient relics transcends, a sightless distance, that of the renowned
Dr. Cornelius Scriblerus, the antiquary, rendered so famous by
mistaking a barber's old rusty basin for an antique shield of some
long deceased warrior.
Although science and literature are articles generally in very bad
odor, if not actually contraband in such assemblages, (bodies and not
minds being the thing to be fed,) still both are now and then
introduced, and rare work are made of them by the would be scholars.
To the real scholar--the well educated gentleman, there cannot well be
any more severe trial of his politeness and self-command, than is
afforded by their ridiculous attempts to display their taste and
erudition. But the farce, incomparably the best of the whole, will
usually be enacted by the little party politicians, who almost always
constitute a considerable portion of a dinner party in these times.
With these the settling of their dinners is quite a secondary affair
to the settling of our national affairs, a most important part of
which duty they most patriotically take upon themselves. _Ex
necessitate rei_, their vehement volubility, their ardent zeal,
constantly blazes out with an intensity of heat in full proportion to
the self-imputed share of each in our national concerns. With this
volcanic fire burning in their bosoms, cotemporaneously with so large
a portion of the government of fifteen millions of human beings
pressing on their shoulders--gigantic though they be--it is truly
amazing with what alacrity and perseverance they at the same time
talk, eat, and decide on the most difficult problems in political
science--the most complex and really doubtful measures of national
policy and legislation--when their whole outfit for so arduous a work
consists, in all human probability, of a few hours of weekly reading
in some party newspaper, edited by some man equally conceited,
ignorant, and opinionated with themselves.
All this while, although the entertainer and a portion of his guests
may be well qualified to sustain conversation both highly improving
and interesting, _fashion_ has vetoed the attempt--and they must
either be silent, or join in the usual frivolous, desultory, and
useless verbosity generally uttered on such occasions. Alas! that man,
made after God's own image, and endowed with the noble gifts of
speech, intellect, judgment, and taste, should so often and so
deplorably abuse them.
When satiated with the dinner party, should you still wish to see more
of the Would Be's, hasten to the Soirée or the Squeeze, and you will
_there_ find fresh and most titillating food for your _moral_ palate,
if you will pardon the figure. All that is most exquisitely
ridiculous, either in attitude, gesture, or language, may, not
unfrequently, be there witnessed in its most comic, most
laugh-provoking form. There you may often witness nearly every
possible disguise under which vulgarity apes gentility--every
imaginable grimace and gesticulation that can be mistaken for graceful
ease of manner--and every style of conversation or casual remark which
"the Would Be's" may imagine best calculated to substitute their
counterfeit currency for _that_ which is genuine and acceptable to
all. In these motley assemblages {365} you may prepare to behold,
among other sights, the now universally prevalent walk for fashionable
ladies, in its highest style. This consists in a kind of indescribable
twitching of the body, alternately to the right and left, which the
gazing green-horns, not in the secret that _fashion commands it_,
would surely mistake for the annoyance occasioned by certain pins in
their dresses having worked out of place, and would accordingly
commiserate rather than admire the supposed sufferers.
But to cap the climax of these abortive contests against nature, you
must move about until you come to the _rocking-chairs_, those articles
which, in bygone times, were used only by our decrepid old ladies, or
the nurses of infant children; but which, in our more refined age, are
now deemed indispensable appendages of every room for entertaining
company. When you come to one of these former depositories for nearly
superannuated women and nurses of infants, instead of similar
occupants to those of the olden time, you will find them sometimes
occupied by those of "the woman kind" who are making their first
fishing parties after "_a tang-lang_,"[1] and who have been taught to
believe that a well turned ankle and pretty foot are very pretty
things, the sight of which it would be quite unreasonable and selfish
that the possessor should monopolize. But generally, the operatives in
these quasi-cradles for decrepitude and helpless infancy, will be
found to be youths of the male sex scarcely of age, and surrounded
often by ladies old enough to be their mothers, and wanting seats--but
wanting them in vain. These exquisite young gentlemen will always be
found, when thus self-motive, so entirely absorbed, as to have
forgotten completely not only the established rule, even in our rudest
society, of offering our seat to any standing lady, but almost their
own personal identity, which is frequently any thing but
prepossessing. Rocking away at rail road speed, self-satisfied beyond
the power of language to describe, with head thrown back, and
protruded chin, "bearded like the pard," as much as to say, "Ladies,
did you ever behold so kissable a face?--pray come try it"--they rock
on to the infinite amusement, pity, or contempt of all beholders.
[Footnote 1: "Tang-lang." For this term and the little story in which
it is introduced, I am indebted to that admirable writer Oliver
Goldsmith; but before I give the tale itself, I must beseech your
readers not for a moment to suspect me of any such treasonable design
against the fair sex, as to represent all young ladies, upon their
first entrance into company, as fishing for tang-langs. My purpose is
merely to supply them with a few very useful moral hints, in the
highly entertaining language of an author, who being "old fashioned,"
may probably be little known to many of them. But now for the story.
"In a winding of the river Amidar, just before it falls into the
Caspian sea, there lies an island unfrequented by the inhabitants of
the continent. In this seclusion, blest with all that wild,
uncultivated nature could bestow, lived a princess and her two
daughters. She had been wrecked upon the coast while her children as
yet were infants, who, of consequence, though grown up, were entirely
unacquainted with man. Yet, inexperienced as the young ladies were in
the opposite sex, both early discovered symptoms, the one of prudery,
the other of being a coquet. The eldest was ever learning maxims of
wisdom and discretion from her mamma, whilst the youngest employed all
her hours in gazing at her own face in a neighboring fountain.
"Their usual amusement in this solitude was fishing. Their mother had
taught them all the secrets of the art: she showed them which were the
most likely places to throw out the line, what baits were most proper
for the various seasons, and the best manner to draw up the finny
prey, when they had hooked it. In this manner they spent their time,
easy and innocent, till one day the princess being indisposed, desired
them to go and catch her a sturgeon or a shark for supper, which she
fancied might sit easy on her stomach. The daughters obeyed, and
clapping on a goldfish, the usual bait on these occasions, went and
sat upon one of the rocks, letting the gilded hooks glide down the
stream.
"On the opposite shore, farther down at the mouth of the river lived a
diver for pearls, a youth who, by long habit in his trade, was almost
grown amphibious; so that he could remain whole hours at the bottom of
the water, without ever fetching breath. He happened to be at that
very instant diving, when the ladies were fishing with a gilded hook.
Seeing therefore the bait, which to him had the appearance of real
gold, he was resolved to seize the prize; but both hands being already
filled with pearl-oysters, he found himself obliged to snap at it with
his mouth; the consequence is easily imagined; the hook, before
unperceived, was instantly fastened in his jaw; nor could he, with all
his efforts or his floundering, get free.
"Sister, cries the youngest princess, I have certainly caught a
monstrous fish; I never perceived anything struggle so at the end of
my line before; come and help me to draw it in. They both now,
therefore, assisted in fishing up the diver on shore; but nothing
could equal their surprize upon seeing him. Bless my eyes! cries the
prude, what have we got here? This is a very odd fish to be sure; I
never saw any thing in my life look so queer; what eyes--what terrible
claws--what a monstrous snout! I have read of this monster somewhere
before, it certainly must be a tang-lang that eats women; let us throw
it back into the sea where we found it.
"The diver in the mean time stood upon the beach, at the end of the
line, with the hook in his mouth, using every art that he thought
could best excite pity, and particularly looking extremely tender,
which is usual in such circumstances. The coquet, therefore, in some
measure influenced by the innocence of his looks, ventured to
contradict her companion. Upon my word, sister, says she, I see
nothing in the animal so very terrible as you are pleased to
apprehend; I think it may serve well enough for a change. Always
sharks, and sturgeons, and lobsters, and craw-fish, make me quite
sick. I fancy a slice of this nicely grilled, and dressed up with
shrimp sauce would be very pretty eating. I fancy too mamma would like
a bit with pickles above all things in the world; and if it should not
sit easy on her stomach, it will be time enough to discontinue it,
when found disagreeable, you know. Horrid! cries the prude, would the
girl be poisoned? I tell you it is a tang-lang; I have read of it in
twenty places. It is every where described as the most pernicious
animal that ever infested the ocean. I am certain it is the most
insidious, ravenous creature in the world; and is certain destruction,
if taken internally. The youngest sister was now, therefore, obliged
to submit: both assisted in drawing the hook with some violence from
the diver's jaw; and he, finding himself at liberty, bent his breast
against the broad wave, and disappeared in an instant.
"Just at this juncture, the mother came down to the beach, to know the
cause of her daughters' delay: they told her every circumstance,
describing the monster they had caught. The old lady was one of the
most discreet women in the world; she was called the black-eyed
princess, from two black eyes she had received in her youth, being a
little addicted to boxing in her liquor. Alas! my children, cries she,
what have you done? The fish you caught was a man-fish, one of the
most tame domestic animals in the world. We could have let him run and
play about the garden, and he would have been twenty times more
entertaining than our squirrel or monkey. If that be all, says the
young coquet, we will fish for him again. If that be all, I'll hold
three tooth-picks to one pound of snuff, I catch him whenever I
please. Accordingly they threw in their lines once more, but with all
their gliding, and paddling, and assiduity, they could never after
catch the diver. In this state of solitude and disappointment they
continued for many years, still fishing, but without success; till, at
last, the Genius of the place, in pity to their distress, changed the
prude into a shrimp, and the coquet into an oyster."]
But in tender mercy to your own patience and that of your readers,
both of which I have so severely taxed, I will conclude for the
present, and remain your friend,