_Cit._ "Speak, speak."
_I Cit._ "You are all resolved rather to die than to famish?"
_Cit._ "Resolved, resolved."
_I Cit._ "First you know, Caius Marcus is chief enemy to the people."
_Cit._ "We know't, we know't."
_I Cit._ "Let's kill him, and we'll have corn at our price.
Is't a verdict?"--_Coriolanus._
The most inveterate Manhattanese, if he be anything of a man of the
world, must confess that New York is, after all, but a rag-fair sort of
a place, so far as the eye is concerned. I was particularly struck with
this fact, even at that hour, as we went stumbling along over an
atrociously bad sidewalk, my eyes never at rest, as any one can imagine,
after five years of absence. I could not help noting the incongruities;
the dwellings of marble in close proximity with miserable, low
constructions in wood; the wretched pavements; and, above all, the
country air of a town of near four hundred thousand souls: I very well
know that many of the defects are to be ascribed to the rapid growth of
the place, which gives it a sort of hobble-de-hoy look; but, being a
Manhattanese by birth, I thought I might just as well own it all at
once, if it were only for the information of a particular portion of my
townsmen, who may have been under a certain delusion on the subject. As
for comparing the bay of New York with that of Naples on the score of
beauty, I shall no more be guilty of any such folly, to gratify the
cockney feelings of Broadway and Bond Street, than I should be guilty of
the folly of comparing the commerce of the ancient Parthenope with that
of _old_ New York, in order to excite complacency in the bosom of some
bottegajo in the Toledo, or on the Chiaja. Our fast-growing Manhattan is
a great town in its way--a wonderful place--without a parallel, I do
believe, on earth, as a proof of enterprise and of the accumulation of
business; and it is not easy to make such a town appear ridiculous by
any jibes and innuendoes that relate to the positive things of this
world, though nothing is easier than to do it for itself by setting up
to belong to the sisterhood of such places as London, Paris, Vienna, and
St. Petersburg. There is too much of the American notion of the
omnipotence of numbers among us Manhattanese, which induces us to think
that the higher rank in the scale of places is to be obtained by
majorities. No, no; let us remember the familiar axiom of "_ne sutor
ultra crepidum_." New York is just the queen of "business," but not yet
the queen of the world. Every man who travels ought to bring back
something to the common stock of knowledge; and I shall give a hint to
my townsmen, by which I really think they may be able to tell for
themselves, as by feeling a sort of moral pulse, when the town is rising
to the level of a capital. When simplicity takes the place of
pretension, is one good rule; but, as it may require a good deal of
practice, or native taste, to ascertain this fact, I will give another
that is obvious to the senses, which will at least be strongly
symptomatic; and that is this: when _squares_ cease to be called
_parks_; when horse-bazaars and fashionable streets are not called
Tattersalls and Bond Street; when _Washington_ market is rechristened
_Bear_ market, and Franklin and Fulton, and other great philosophers and
inventors, are plucked of the unmerited honors of having shambles named
after them; when _commercial_ is not used as a prefix to emporium; when
people can return from abroad without being asked "if they are
reconciled to their country?" and strangers are not interrogated at the
second question, "how do you like _our city_?" then may it be believed
that the town is beginning to go alone, and that it may set up for
itself.
Although New York is, out of all question, decidedly provincial,
laboring under the peculiar vices of provincial habits and provincial
modes of thinking, it contains many a man of the world, and some, too,
who have never quitted their own fireside. Of this very number was the
Jack Dunning, as my uncle Ro called him, to whose house in Chambers
Street we were now proceeding.
"If we were going anywhere but to Dunning's," said my uncle, as we
turned out of Greenwich Street, "I should have no fear of being
recognized by the servants; for no one here thinks of keeping a man six
months. Dunning, however, is of the old school, and does not like new
faces; so he will have no Irishman at his door, as is the case with two
out of three of the houses at which one calls nowadays."
In another minute we were at the bottom of Mr. Dunning's "stoup"--what
an infernal contrivance it is to get in and out at the door by, in a
hotty-cold climate like ours!--but there we were, and I observed that my
uncle hesitated.
"_Parlez au_ SUISSE," said I; "ten to one he is fresh from some
Bally-this, or Bally-that."
"No, no; it must be old Garry, the nigger"--my uncle Ro was of the old
school himself, and _would_ say "nigger"--"Jack can never have parted
with Garry."
"Garry" was the diminutive of Garret, a somewhat common Dutch Christian
name among us.
We rang, and the door opened--in about five minutes. Although the terms
"aristocrat" and "aristocracy" are much in men's mouths in America just
now, as well as those of "feudal" and the "middle ages," and this, too,
as applied to modes of living as well as to leasehold tenures, there is
but one porter in the whole country; and he belongs to the White House,
at Washington. I am afraid even that personage, royal porter as he is,
is often out of the way; and the reception he gives when he _is_ there,
is not of the most brilliant and princely character. When we had waited
three minutes, my uncle Ro said:
"I am afraid Garry is taking a nap by the kitchen fire; I'll try him
again."
Uncle Ro did try again, and, two minutes later, the door opened.
"What is your pleasure?" demanded the _Suisse_, with a strong brogue.
My uncle started back as if he had met a sprite; but he asked if Mr.
Dunning was at home.
"He is, indeed, sir."
"Is he alone, or is he with company?"
"He is, indeed."
"But _what_ is he indeed?"
"He is _that_."
"Can you take the trouble to explain which _that_ it is? Has he company,
or is he alone?"
"Just _that_, sir. Walk in, and he'll be charmed to see you. A fine
gentleman is his honor, and pleasure it is to live with him, I'm sure!"
"How long is it since you left Ireland, my friend?"
"Isn't it a mighty bit, now, yer honor!" answered Barney, closing the
door. "T'irteen weeks, if it's one day."
"Well, go ahead, and show us the way. This is a bad omen, Hugh, to find
that Jack Dunning, of all men in the country, should have changed his
servant--good, quiet, lazy, respectable, old, gray-headed Garry, the
nigger--for such a bog-trotter as that fellow, who climbs those stairs
as if accustomed only to ladders."
Dunning was in his library on the second floor, where he passed most of
his evenings. His surprise was equal to that which my uncle had just
experienced, when he saw us two standing before him. A significant
gesture, however, caused him to grasp his friend and client's hand in
silence; and nothing was said until the _Swiss_ had left the room,
although the fellow stood with the door in his hand a most inconvenient
time, just to listen to what might pass between the host and his guests.
At length we got rid of him, honest, well-meaning fellow that he was
after all; and the door was closed.
"My last letters have brought you home, Roger?" said Jack, the moment he
_could_ speak; for feeling, as well as caution, had something to do with
his silence.
"They have, indeed. A great change must have come over the country, by
what I hear; and one of the very worst symptoms is that you have turned
away Garry, and got an Irishman in his place."
"Ah! old men must die, as well as old principles, I find. My poor fellow
went off in a fit, last week, and I took that Irishman as a _pis aller_.
After losing poor Garry who was born a slave in my father's house, I
became indifferent, and accepted the first comer from the intelligence
office."
"We must be careful, Dunning, not to give up too soon. But hear my
story, and then to other matters."
My uncle then explained his wish to be incognito, and his motive.
Dunning listened attentively, but seemed uncertain whether to dissent or
approve. The matter was discussed briefly, and then it was postponed for
further consideration.
"But how comes on this great moral dereliction, called anti-rentism? Is
it on the wane, or the increase?"
"On the wane to the eye, perhaps; but on the increase so far as
principles, the rights, and facts, are concerned. The necessity of
propitiating votes is tempting politicians of all sides to lend
themselves to it; and there is imminent danger now that atrocious wrongs
will be committed under the form of law."
"In what way _can_ the law touch an existing contract? The Supreme Court
of the United States will set that right."
"That is the only hope of the honest, let me tell you. It is folly to
expect that a body composed of such men as usually are sent to the State
Legislature can resist the temptation to gain power by conciliating
numbers. _That is out of the question._ Individuals of these bodies may
resist; but the tendency there will be as against the few, and in favor
of the many, bolstering their theories by clap-traps and slang political
phrases. The scheme to tax the rents, under the name of quit-rents, will
be resorted to, in the first place."
"That will be a most iniquitous proceeding, and would justify resistance
just as much as our ancestors were justified in resisting the taxation
of Great Britain."
"It would more so, for here we have a written covenant to render
taxation equal. The landlord already pays one tax on each of these
farms--a full and complete tax, that is reserved from the rent in the
original bargain with the tenant; and now the wish is to tax the rents
themselves; and this not to raise revenue, for that is confessedly not
wanted, but most clearly with a design to increase the inducements for
the landlords to part with their property. If that can be done, the
sales will be made on the principle that none but the tenant must be, as
indeed no one else _can_ be, the purchaser; and then we shall see a
queer exhibition--men parting with their property under the pressure of
a clamor that is backed by as much law as can be pressed into its
service, with a monopoly of price on the side of the purchaser, and all
in a country professing the most sensitive love of liberty, and where
the prevailing class of politicians are free-trade men?"
"There is no end of these inconsistencies among politicians."
"There is no end of knavery when men submit to 'noses,' instead of
principles. Call things by their right names, Ro, as they deserve to be.
This matter is so plain, that he who runs can read."
"But will this scheme of taxation succeed? It does not affect us, for
instance, as our leases are for three lives."
"Oh! that is nothing; for you they contemplate a law that will forbid
the letting of land, for the future, for a period longer than five
years. Hugh's leases will soon be falling in, and then he can't make a
slave of any man for a longer period than five years."
"Surely no one is so silly as to think of passing such a law, with a
view to put down aristocracy, and to benefit the tenant!" I cried,
laughing.
"Ay, you may laugh, young sir," resumed Jack Dunning; "but such _is_ the
intention. I know very well what will be your course of reasoning; you
will say, the longer the lease the better for the tenant, if the bargain
be reasonably good; and landlords cannot ask more for the use of their
lands than they are really worth in this country, there happening to be
more land than there are men to work it. No, no; landlords rather get
less for their lands than they are worth, instead of more, for that
plain reason. To compel the tenant to take a lease, therefore, for a
term as short as five years, is to injure him, you think; to place him
more at the control of his landlord, through the little interest
connected with the cost and trouble of moving, and through the natural
desire he may possess to cut the meadows he has seeded, and to get the
full benefit of manure he has made and carted. I see how you reason,
young sir; but you are behind the age--you are sadly behind the age."
"The age is a queer one, if I am! All over the world it is believed that
long leases are favors, or advantages, to tenants; and nothing can make
it otherwise, _caeteris paribus_. Then what good will the tax do, after
violating right and moral justice, if not positive law, to lay it? On a
hundred dollars of rent, I should have to pay some fifty-five cents of
taxes, as I am assessed on other things at Ravensnest; and does anybody
suppose I will give up an estate that has passed through five
generations of my family, on account of a tribute like that!"
"Mighty well, sir--mighty well, sir! This is fine talk; but I would
advise you not to speak of _your_ ancestors at all. Landlords can't name
_their_ ancestors with impunity just now."
"I name mine only as showing a reason for a natural regard for my
paternal acres."
"That you might do, if you were a tenant; but not as a landlord. In a
landlord it is aristocratic and intolerable pride, and to the last
degree offensive--as Dogberry says, 'tolerable and not to be endured.'"
"But it is a _fact_, and it is natural one should have some feelings
connected with it."
"The more it is a fact, the less it will be liked. People associate
social position with wealth and _estates_, but not with farms; and the
longer one has such things in a family, the worse for them!"
"I do believe, Jack," put in my uncle Ro, "that the rule which prevails
all over the rest of the world is reversed here, and that with us it is
thought a family's claim is lessened, and not increased, by time."
"To be sure it is!" answered Dunning, without giving me a chance to
speak. "Do you know that you wrote me a very silly letter once, from
Switzerland, about a family called De Blonay, that had been seated on
the same rock, in a little castle, some six or eight hundred years, and
the sort of respect and veneration the circumstance awakened! Well, all
that was very foolish, as you will find when you pay your incognito
visit to Ravensnest. I will not anticipate the result of your schooling;
but, go to school."
"As the Rensselaers and other great landlords, who have estates on
durable leases, will not be very likely to give them up, except on terms
that will suit themselves, for a tax as insignificant as that mentioned
by Hugh," said my uncle, "what does the Legislature anticipate from
passing the law?"
"That its members will be called the friends of the people, and not the
friends of the landlords. Would any man tax his friends, if he could
help it?"
"But what will that portion of the people who compose the anti-renters
gain by such a measure?"
"Nothing; and their complaints will be just as loud, and their longings
as active, as ever. Nothing that can have any effect on what they wish
will be accomplished by any legislation in the matter. One committee of
the Assembly has actually reported, you may remember, that the State
might assume the lands, and sell them to the tenants, or some one else;
or something of the sort."
"The Constitution of the United States must be Hugh's aegis."
"And that alone will protect him, let me tell you. But for that noble
provision of the Constitution of the Federal Government, his estate
would infallibly go for one-half of its true value. There is no use in
mincing things, or in affecting to believe men more honest than they
are--AN INFERNAL FEELING OF SELFISHNESS IS SO MUCH TALKED OF, AND CITED,
AND REFERRED TO, ON ALL OCCASIONS, IN THIS COUNTRY, THAT A MAN ALMOST
RENDERS HIMSELF RIDICULOUS WHO APPEARS TO REST ON PRINCIPLE."
"Have you heard what the tenants of Ravensnest aim at, in particular?"
"They want to get Hugh's lands, that's all; nothing more, I can assure
you."
"On what conditions, pray?" demanded I.
"As you 'light of chaps,' to use a saying of their own. Some even
profess a willingness to pay a fair price."
"But I do not wish to sell for even a fair price. I have no desire to
part with property that is endeared to me by family feeling and
association. I have an expensive house and establishment on my estate,
which obtains its principal value from the circumstance that it is so
placed that I can look after my interests with the least inconvenience
to myself. What can I do with the money but buy another estate? and I
prefer this that I have."
"Poh! boy, you can shave notes, you'll recollect," said Uncle Ro, dryly.
"The calling is decided to be honorable by the highest tribunal; and no
man should be above his business."
"You have no right, sir, in a free country," returned the caustic Jack
Dunning, "to prefer one estate to another, more especially when other
people want it. Your lands are leased to honest, hard-working tenants,
who can eat their dinners without silver forks, and whose ancestors----"
"Stop!" I cried, laughing; "I bar all ancestry. No man has a right to
ancestry in a free country, you'll remember!"
"That means landlord ancestry; as for tenant ancestry, one can have a
pedigree as long as the Maison de Levis. No, sir; every tenant you have
has every right to demand that his sentiment of family feeling should be
respected. His father planted that orchard, and he loves the apples
better than any other apples in the world----"
"And my father procured the grafts, and made him a present of them."
"His grandfather cleared that field, and converted its ashes into pots
and pearls----"
"And _my_ grandfather received that year ten shillings of rent, for land
off which his received two hundred and fifty dollars for his ashes."
"His great-grandfather, honest and excellent man--nay, superhonest and
confiding creature--first 'took up' the land when a wilderness, and with
his own hands felled the timber, and sowed the wheat."
"And got his pay twenty-fold for it all, or he would not have been fool
enough to do it. I had a great-grandfather, too; and I hope it will not
be considered aristocratic if I venture to hint as much. He--a
dishonest, pestilent knave, no doubt--leased that very lot for six years
without any rent at all, in order that the 'poor confiding creature'
might make himself comfortable, before he commenced paying his sixpence
or shilling an acre rent for the remainder of three lives, with a moral
certainty of getting a renewal on the most liberal terms known to a new
country; and who knew, the whole time, he could buy land in fee, within
ten miles of his door, but who thought _this_ a better bargain than
_that_."
"Enough of this folly," cried Uncle Ro, joining in the laugh; "we all
know that in our excellent America, he who has the highest claims to
anything must affect to have the least, to stifle the monster envy; and
being of one mind as to principles, let us come to facts. What of the
girls, Jack, and of my honored mother?"
"She, noble heroic woman! she is at Ravensnest at this moment; and as
the girls would not permit her to go alone, they are all with her."
"And did you, Jack Dunning, suffer them to go unattended into a part of
the country that is in open rebellion?" demanded my uncle,
reproachfully.
"Come, come! Hodge Littlepage, this is very sublime as a theory, but not
so clear when reduced to practice. I did not go with Mrs. Littlepage and
her young fry, for the good and substantial reason that I did not wish
to be 'tarred and feathered.'"
"So you leave them to run the risk of being 'tarred and feathered' in
your stead?"
"Say what you will about the cant of freedom that is becoming so common
among us, and from which we were once so free; say what you will, Ro, of
the inconsistency of those who raise the cry of 'feudality,' and
'aristocracy,' and 'nobility,' at the very moment they are manifesting a
desire for exclusive rights and privileges in their own persons; say
what you will of dishonesty, envy, that prominent American vice,
knavery, covetousness, and selfishness, and I will echo all you can
utter; but do not say that a woman can be in serious danger among any
material body of Americans, even if anti-renters and mock-redskins in
the bargain."
"I believe you are right there, Jack, on reflection. Pardon my warmth;
but I have lately been living in the Old World, and in a country in
which women were not long since carried to the scaffold on account of
their politics."
"Because they meddled with politics. Your mother is in no serious
danger, though it needs nerve in a woman to be able to think so. There
are few women in the State, and fewer of her time of life anywhere, that
would do what she has done; and I give the girls great credit for
sticking by her. Half the young men in town are desperate at the thought
of three such charming creatures thus exposing themselves to insult.
Your mother has only been sued."
"Sued! Whom does she owe, or what can she have done to have brought this
indignity on her?"
"You know, or ought to know, how it is in this country, Littlepage; we
must have a little law, even when most bent on breaking it. A downright,
straightforward rascal, who openly sets law at defiance, is a wonder.
Then we have a great talk of liberty, when plotting to give it the
deepest stab; and religion even gets to share in no small portion of our
vices. Thus it is that the anti-renters have dragged in the law in aid
of their designs. I understand one of the Rensselaers has been sued for
money borrowed in a ferryboat to help him across a river under his own
door, and for potatoes bought by his wife in the streets of Albany!"
"But neither of the Rensselaers need borrow money to cross the ferry, as
the ferrymen would trust him; and no lady of the Rensselaer family ever
bought potatoes in the streets of Albany, I'll answer for it."
"You have brought back some knowledge from your travels, I find!" said
Jack Dunning, with comic gravity. "Your mother writes me that _she_ has
been sued for twenty-seven pairs of shoes furnished her by a shoemaker
whom she never saw, or heard of, until she received the summons!"
"This, then, is one of the species of annoyances that has been adopted
to bully the landlords out of their property?"
"It is; and if the landlords have recourse even to the covenants of
their leases, solemnly and deliberately made, and as solemnly guaranteed
by a fundamental law, the cry is raised of 'aristocracy' and
'oppression' by these very men, and echoed by many of the creatures who
get seats in high places among us--or what _would_ be high places, if
filled with men worthy of their trusts."
"I see you do not mince your words, Jack."
"Why should I? Words are all that is left me. I am of no more weight in
the government of this State than that Irishman who let you in just now
will be five years hence--less, for he will vote to suit a majority; and
as I shall vote understandingly, my vote will probably do no one any
good."
Dunning belonged to a school that mingles a good deal of speculative and
impracticable theory with a great deal of sound and just principles; but
who render themselves useless because they will admit of no compromises.
He did not belong to the class of American _doctrinaires_, however, or
to those who contend--no, not _contend_, for no one does _that_ any
longer in this country, whatever may be his opinion on the subject--but
those who _think_ that political power, as in the last resort, should be
the property of the few, for he was willing New York should have a very
broad constituency. Nevertheless, he was opposed to the universal
suffrage, in its wide extent, that does actually exist; as I suppose
quite three-fourths of the whole population are opposed to it, in their
hearts, though no political man of influence, now existing, has the
moral calibre necessary to take the lead in putting it down. Dunning
deferred to principles, and not to men. He well knew that an infallible
whole was not to be composed of fallible parts; and while he thought
majorities ought to determine many things, that there are rights and
principles that are superior to even such _unanimity_ as man can
manifest, and much more to their majorities. But Dunning had no selfish
views connected with his political notions, wanting no office, and
feeling no motive to affect that which he neither thought nor wished. He
never had quitted home, or it is highly probable his views of the
comparative abuses of the different systems that prevail in the world
would have been essentially modified. Those he saw had unavoidably a
democratic source, there being neither monarch nor aristocrat to produce
any other; and, under such circumstances, as abuses certainly abound, it
is not at all surprising that he sometimes a little distorted facts and
magnified evils.
"And my noble, high-spirited, and venerable mother has actually gone to
the Nest to face the enemy!" exclaimed my uncle, after a thoughtful
pause.
"She has, indeed; and the noble, high-spirited, though not venerable,
young ladies have gone with her," returned Mr. Dunning, in his caustic
way.
"All three, do you mean?"
"Every one of them--Martha, Henrietta, and Anne."
"I am surprised that the last should have done so. Anne Marston is such
a meek, quiet, peace-loving person, that I should think _she_ would have
preferred remaining, as she naturally might have done, without exciting
remark, with her own mother."
"She has not, nevertheless. Mrs. Littlepage _would_ brave the
anti-renters, and the three maidens _would_ be her companions. I dare
say, Ro, you know how it is with the gentle sex, when they make up their
minds?"
"My girls are all good girls, and have given me very little trouble,"
answered my uncle, complacently.
"Yes, I dare say that may be true. You have only been absent from home
five years this trip."
"An attentive guardian, notwithstanding, since I left you as a
substitute. Has my mother written to you since her arrival among the
hosts of the Philistines?"
"She has, indeed, Littlepage," answered Dunning, gravely; "I have heard
from her three times, for she writes to urge my not appearing on the
estate. I did intend to pay her a visit; but she tells me that it might
lead to a violent scene, and can do no good. As the rents will not be
due until autumn, and Master Hugh is now of age, and was to be here to
look after his own affairs, I have seen no motive for incurring the risk
of the tarring and feathering. We American lawyers, young gentleman,
wear no wigs."
"Does my mother write herself, or employ another?" inquired my uncle,
with interest.
"She honors me with her own hand. Your mother writes much better than
you do yourself, Roger."
"That is owing to her once having carried chain, as she would say
herself. Has Martha written to you?"
"Of course. Sweet little Patty and I are bosom friends, as you know."
"And does she say anything of the Indian and the negro?"
"Jaaf and Susquesus? To be sure she does. Both are living still, and
both are well. I saw them myself, and even ate of their venison, so
lately as last winter."
"Those old fellows must have each lived a great deal more than his
century, Jack. They were with my grandfather in the old French war, as
active, useful men--older than _my_ grandfather!"
"Ay! a nigger or a redskin, before all others, for holding on to life,
when they have been temperate. Let me see--that expedition of
Abercrombie's was about eighty years since; why, these fellows must be
well turned of their hundred, though Jaap is rather the oldest, judging
from appearances."
"I believe no one knows the age of either. A hundred each has been
thought now for many years. Susquesus was surprisingly active, too, when
I last saw him--like a healthy man of eighty."
"He has failed of late, though he actually shot a deer, as I told you,
last winter. Both the old fellows stray down to the Nest, Martha writes
me; and the Indian is highly scandalized at the miserable imitations of
his race that are now abroad. I have even heard that he and Yop have
actually contemplated taking the field against them. Seneca Newcome is
their especial aversion."
"How is Opportunity?" I inquired. "Does she take any part in this
movement?"
"A decided one, I hear. She is anti-rent, while she wishes to keep on
good terms with her landlord; and that is endeavoring to serve God and
Mammon. She is not the first, however, by a thousand, that wears two
faces in this business."
"Hugh has a deep admiration of Opportunity," observed my uncle, "and you
had needs be tender in your strictures. The modern Seneca, I take it, is
dead against us?"
"Seneky wishes to go to the legislature, and of course he is on the side
of votes. Then his brother is a tenant at the mill, and naturally wishes
to be the landlord. He is also interested in the land himself. One thing
has struck me in this controversy as highly worthy of notice; and it is
the _naivete_ with which men reconcile the obvious longing of
covetousness with what they are pleased to fancy the principles of
liberty! When a man has worked a farm a certain number of years, he
boldly sets up the doctrine that the fact itself gives him a high moral
claim to possess it forever. A moment's examination will expose the
fallacy by which these sophists apply the flattering unction to their
souls. They work their farms under a lease, and in virtue of its
covenants. Now, in a moral sense, all that time can do in such a case,
is to render these covenants the more sacred, and consequently more
binding; but these worthies, whose morality is all on one side, imagine
that these time-honored covenants give them a right to fly from their
own conditions during their existence, and to raise pretensions far
exceeding anything they themselves confer, the moment they cease."
"Poh, poh! Jack; there is no need of refining at all, to come at the
merits of such a question. This is a civilized country, or it is not. If
it be a civilized country, it will respect the rights of property, and
its own laws; and if the reverse, it will not respect them. As for
setting up the doctrine, at this late day, when millions and millions
are invested in this particular species of property, that the leasehold
tenure is opposed to the _spirit_ of institutions of which it has
substantially formed a part, ever since those institutions have
themselves had an existence, it requires a bold front, and more capacity
than any man at Albany possesses, to make the doctrines go down. Men may
run off with the notion that the _tendencies_ to certain abuses, which
mark every system, form their spirit; but this is a fallacy that a very
little thought will correct. Is it true that proposals have actually
been made, by these pretenders to liberty, to appoint commissioners to
act as arbitrators between the landlords and tenants, and to decide
points that no one has any right to raise?"
"True as Holy Writ; and a regular 'Star Chamber' tribunal it would be!
It is wonderful, after all, how extremes do meet!"
"That is as certain as the return of the sun after night. But let us now
talk of our project, Jack, and of the means of getting among these
self-deluded men--deluded by their own covetousness--without being
discovered; for I am determined to see them, and to judge of their
motives and conduct for myself."
"Take care of the tar-barrel, and of the pillow-case of feathers,
Roger!"
"I shall endeavor so to do."
We then discussed the matter before us at length and leisurely. I shall
not relate all that was said, as it would be going over the same ground
twice, but refer the reader to the regular narrative. At the usual hour,
we retired to our beds, retaining the name of Davidson, as convenient
and prudent. Next day Mr. John Dunning busied himself in our behalf, and
made himself exceedingly useful to us. In his character of an old
bachelor, he had many acquaintances at the theatre; and through his
friends of the greenroom he supplied each of us with a wig. Both my
uncle and myself spoke German reasonably well, and our original plan was
to travel in the character of immigrant trinket and essence pedlers. But
I had a fancy for a hand-organ and a monkey; and it was finally agreed
that Mr. Hugh Roger Littlepage, senior, was to undertake this adventure
with a box of cheap watches and gilded trinkets; while Mr. Hugh Roger
Littlepage, junior, was to commence his travels at home, in the
character of a music-grinder. Modesty will not permit me to say all I
might, in favor of my own skill in music in general; but I sang well for
an amateur, and played both on the violin and flute, far better than is
common.
Everything was arranged in the course of the following day, our wigs of
themselves completely effecting all the disguises that were necessary.
As for my uncle, he was nearly bald, and a wig was no great encumbrance;
but my shaggy locks gave me some trouble. A little clipping, however,
answered the turn; and I had a hearty laugh at myself, in costume, that
afternoon, before Dunning's dressing-room glass. We got round the felony
law, about being armed and disguised, by carrying no weapons but our
tools in the way of trade.