"With look, like patient Job's, eschewing evil;
With motions graceful as a bird's in air;
Thou art, in sober truth, the veriest devil
That e'er clinched fingers in a captive's hair."
--_Red Jacket._
Although an immense progress has been made in liberating this country
from the domination of England, in the way of opinion and usages, a good
deal remains to be done yet. Still, he who can look back forty years
must see the great changes that have occurred in very many things; and
it is to be hoped that he who lives forty years hence will find very few
remaining that have no better reasons for their existence among
ourselves than the example of a people so remote, with a different
climate, different social organization, and different wants. I am for no
more condemning a usage, however, simply because it is English, than I
am for approving it simply because it is English. I wish everything to
stand on its own merits, and feel certain that no nation ever can become
great, in the higher signification of the term, until it ceases to
imitate, because it is imitation of a certain fixed model. One of the
very greatest evils of this imitative spirit is even now developing
itself in what is called the "progress" of the country, which is
assailing principles that are as old as the existence of man, and which
may almost be said to be eternal as social truths, at the very moment
that notions derived from our ancestors are submitted to in the highest
places, the Senate of the United States for example, that are founded in
facts which not only have no existence among ourselves, but which are
positively antagonistic to such as have. So much easier is it to join in
the hurrah! of a "progress," than to ascertain whether it is making in
the right direction, or whether it be progress at all. But, to return
from things of moment to those of less concern.
Among other customs to be condemned that we have derived from England,
is the practice of the men sitting at table after the women have left
it. Much as I may wish to see this every-way offensive custom done away
with, and the more polished and humanizing usage of all the rest of
Christendom adopted in its stead, I should feel ashamed at finding, as I
make no doubt I should find it, that our custom would be abandoned
within a twelvemonth after it might be understood it was abandoned in
England. My uncle had long endeavored to introduce into our own
immediate circle the practice of retaining the ladies at table for a
reasonable time, and of then quitting it with them at the expiration of
that time; but it is hard to "kick against the pricks." Men who fancy it
"society" to meet at each other's houses to drink wine, and taste wine,
and talk about wine, and to outdo each other in giving their guests the
most costly wines, are not to be diverted easily from their objects. The
hard-drinking days are past, but the hard "talking days" are in their
vigor. If it could be understood, generally, that even in England it is
deemed vulgar to descant on the liquor that is put upon the table,
perhaps we might get rid of the practice too. Vulgar in England! It is
even deemed vulgar here, by the right sort, as I am ready to maintain,
and indeed know of my own observation. That one or two friends who are
participating in the benefits of some particularly benevolent bottle,
should say a word in commendation of its merits, is natural enough, and
well enough; no one can reasonably find any fault with such a sign of
grateful feeling; but I know of nothing more revolting than to see
twenty grave faces arrayed around a table, employed as so many tasters
at a Rhenish wine sale, while the cheeks of their host look like those
of Boreas, owing to the process of sucking syphons.
When my dear grandmother rose, imitated by the four bright-faced girls,
who did as she set the example, and said, as was customary with the old
school, "Well, gentlemen, I leave you to your wine; but you will
recollect that you will be most welcome guests in the drawing-room," my
uncle caught her hand, and insisted she should not quit us. There was
something exceedingly touching, to my eyes, in the sort of intercourse,
and in the affection, which existed between my uncle Ro and his mother.
A bachelor himself, while she was a widow, they were particularly fond
of each other; and many is the time that I have seen him go up to her,
when we were alone, and pat her cheeks, and then kiss them, as one might
do to a much-beloved sister. My grandmother always received these little
liberties with perfect good humor, and with evident affection. In her
turn, I have frequently known her to approach "Roger," as she always
called him, and kiss his bald head in a way that denoted she vividly
remembered the time when he was an infant in her arms. On this occasion
she yielded to his request, and resumed her seat, the girls imitating
her, nothing loath, as they had done in rising. The conversation then,
naturally enough, reverted to the state of the country.
"It has much surprised me, that the men in authority among us have
confined all their remarks and statements to the facts of the Rensselaer
and Livingston estates," observed my grandmother, "when there are
difficulties existing in so many others."
"The explanation is very simple, my good mother," answered Uncle Ro.
"The Rensselaer estates have the quarter-sales, and chickens, and days'
works; and there is much of the _ad captandum_ argument about such
things, that does very well to work up for political effect; whereas, on
the other estates, these great auxiliaries must be laid aside. It is
just as certain, as it is that the sun has risen this day, that an
extensive and concerted plan exists to transfer the freehold rights of
the landlords, on nearly every property in the State, to the tenants;
and that, too, on conditions unjustly favorable to the last; but you
will find nothing of the sort in the messages of governors, or speeches
of legislators, who seem to think all is said, when they have dwelt on
the expediency of appeasing the complaints of the tenants, as a high
political duty, without stopping to inquire whether those complaints are
founded in right or not. The injury that will be done to the republic,
by showing men how much can be effected by clamor, is of itself
incalculable. It would take a generation to do away the evil
consequences of the example, were the anti-rent combination to be
utterly defeated to-morrow."
"I find that the general argument against the landlords is a want of
title, in those cases in which nothing better can be found," observed
Mr. Warren. "The lecturer, to-day, seemed to condemn any title that was
derived from the king, as defeated by the conquest over that monarch, by
the war of the revolution."
"A most charming consummation that would have been for the heroic deeds
of the Littlepages! There were my father, grandfather, and
great-grandfather, all in arms, in that war; the two first as general
officers, and the last as a major; and the result of all their hardships
and dangers is to be to rob themselves of their own property! I am aware
that this silly pretence has been urged, even in a court of justice; but
folly, and wrong, and madness, are not yet quite ripe enough among us,
to carry such a doctrine down. As 'coming events cast their shadows
before,' it is possible we are to take this very movement, however, as
the dawn of the approaching day of American reason, and not as a
twilight left by the departed rays of a sun of a period of mental
darkness."
"You surely do not apprehend, Uncle Ro, that these people can really get
Hugh's lands away from him!" exclaimed Patt, reddening with anxiety and
anger.
"No one can say, my dear; for, certainly, no one is safe when opinions
and acts, like those which have been circulated and attempted among us
of late years, can be acted on without awakening very general
indignation. Look to the moneyed classes at this very moment, agonized
and excited on the subject of a war about Oregon--a thing very little
likely to occur, though certainly possible; while they manifest the
utmost indifference to this anti-rentism, though the positive existence
of everything connected with just social organization is directly
involved in its fate. One is a bare possibility, but it convulses the
class I have named; while the other is connected with the existence of
civilized society itself; yet it has ceased to attract attention, and is
nearly forgotten! Every man in the community, whose means raise him at
all above the common level, has a direct interest in facing this danger,
and in endeavoring to put it down; but scarcely any one appears to be
conscious of the importance of the crisis. We have only one or two more
steps to make, in order to become like Turkey; a country in which the
wealthy are obliged to conceal their means, in order to protect it from
the grasp of the government; but no one seems to care at all about it!"
"Some recent travellers among us have said that we have nearly reached
that pass already, as our rich affect great simplicity and plainness in
public, while they fill their houses in private with all the usual
evidences of wealth and luxury. I think De Tocqueville, among others,
makes that remark."
"Ay, that is merely one of the ordinarily sagacious remarks of the
Europeans, who, by not understanding the American history, confound
causes and make mistakes. The plainness of things in public is no more
than an ancient habit of the country, while the elegance and luxury in
private are a very simple and natural consequence of the tastes of women
who live in a state of society in which they are limited to the very
minimum of refined habits and intellectual pleasures. The writer who
made this mistake is a very clever man, and has exceeding merit,
considering his means of ascertaining truth; but he has made very many
similar blunders."
"Nevertheless, Mr. Littlepage," resumed the rector, who was a gentleman,
in all the senses of the word, and knew the world, and the best part of
it, too, even while he had preserved an admirable simplicity of
character, "changes _have_ certainly taken place among us, of the nature
alluded to by M. de Tocqueville."
"That is quite true, sir; but they have also taken place elsewhere. When
I was a boy, I can well remember to have seen coaches-and-six in this
country, and almost every man of fortune drove his coach-and-four;
whereas, now such a thing is of the rarest occurrence possible. But the
same is true all over Christendom; for when I first went to Europe,
coaches-and-six, with outriders, and all that sort of state, was an
every-day thing; whereas, it is now never, or at least very seldom,
seen. Improved roads, steamboats, and railroads, can produce such
changes, without having recourse to the oppression of the masses."
"I am sure," put in Patt, laughing, "if publicity be what Mons. De
Tocqueville requires, there is publicity enough in New York! All the
new-fashioned houses are so constructed, with their low balconies and
lower windows, that anybody can see in at their windows. If what I have
read and heard of a Paris house be true, standing between _cour et
jardin_, there is infinitely more of privacy there than here; and one
might just as well say that the Parisians bury themselves behind _porte
cocheres_, and among trees, to escape the attacks of the Faubourg St.
Antoine, as to say we retreat into our houses to be fine, lest the
mobocracy would not tolerate us."
"The girl has profited by your letters, I see, Hugh," said my uncle,
nodding his head in approbation; "and what is more, she makes a suitable
application of her tuition, or rather of yours. No, no, all that is a
mistake; and, as Martha says, no houses are so much in the street as
those of the new style in our own towns. It would be far more just to
say that, instead of retiring within doors to be fine, as Patt calls it,
unseen by envious neighbors, the Manhattanese, in particular, turn their
dwellings wrong side out, lest their neighbors should take offence at
not being permitted to see all that is going on within. But neither is
true. The house is the more showy because it is most under woman's
control; and it would be just as near the truth to say that the reason
why the American men appear abroad in plain blue, and black, and brown
clothes, while their wives and daughters are at home in silks and
satins--ay, even in modern brocades--is an apprehension of the masses,
as to ascribe the plainness of street life, compared to that within
doors, to the same cause. There is a good deal of difference between a
_salon_ in the Faubourg, or the Chaussee d'Antin, and even on the
Boulevard des Italiens. But, John is craning with his neck, out there on
the piazza, as if our red brethren were at hand."
So it was, in point of fact, and everybody now rose from table, without
ceremony, and went forth to meet our guests. We had barely time to reach
the lawn, the ladies having run for their hats in the meantime, before
Prairiefire, Flintyheart, Manytongues, and all the rest of them, came
up, on the sort of half-trot that distinguishes an Indian's march.
Notwithstanding the change in our dresses, my uncle and myself were
instantly recognized, and courteously saluted by the principal chiefs.
Then our wigs were gravely offered to us by two of the younger men; but
we declined receiving them, begging the gentlemen who had them in
keeping to do us the honor to accept them as tokens of our particular
regard. This was done with great good-will, and with a pleasure that was
much too obvious to be concealed. Half an hour later, I observed that
each of the young forest dandies had a wig on his otherwise naked head,
with a peacock's feather stuck quite knowingly in the lank hair. The
effect was somewhat ludicrous; particularly on the young ladies; but I
saw that each of the warriors himself looked round, as if to ask for the
admiration that he felt his appearance ought to awaken!
No sooner were the salutations exchanged than the red-men began to
examine the house--the cliff on which it stood--the meadows beneath, and
the surrounding ground. At first we supposed that they were struck with
the extent and solidity of the buildings, together with a certain air of
finish and neatness that is not everywhere seen in America, even in the
vicinity of its better-class houses; but Manytongues soon undeceived us.
My uncle asked him why all the red-men had broken off, and scattered
themselves around the buildings, some looking here, others pointing
there, and all manifestly earnest and much engaged with something;
though it was not easy to understand what that something was; intimating
his supposition that they might be struck with the buildings.
"Lord bless ye, no, sir," answered the interpreter; "they don't care a
straw about the house, or any house. There's Flintyheart, in particular;
he's a chief that you can no more move with riches and large housen, and
sichlike matters, than you can make the Mississippi run up stream. When
we went to Uncle Sam's house, at Washington, he scarce condescended to
look at it; and the Capital had no more effect on any on 'em, than if it
had been a better sort of wigwam; not so much, for that matter, as
Injins be curious in wigwams. What's put 'em up on a trail like, just
now, is the knowledge that this is the spot where a battle was fit,
something like ninety seasons ago, in which the Upright Onondago was
consarned, as well as some of their own people on t'other side--that's
what's put 'em in commotion."
"And why does Flintyheart talk to those around him with so much energy;
and point to the flats, and the cliff, and the ravine yonder, that lies
beyond the wigwam of Susquesus?"
"Ah! is that, then, the wigwam of the Upright Onondago?" exclaimed the
interpreter, betraying some such interest as one might manifest on
unexpectedly being told that he saw Mount Vernon or Monticello for the
first time in his life. "Well, it's something to have seen _that_;
though it will be more to see the man himself; for all the tribes on the
upper prairies, are full of his story and his behavior. No Injin, since
the time of Tamenund himself, has made as much talk, of late years, as
Susquesus, the Upright Onondago, unless it might be Tecumthe, perhaps.
But what occupies Flintyheart, just at this moment, is an account of the
battle, in which his father's grandfather lost his life, though he did
not lose his scalp. That disgrace, he is now telling on 'em, he escaped,
and glad enough is his descendant that it was so. It's no great matter
to an Injin to be killed; but he'd rather escape losing his scalp, or
being struck at all by the inimy, if it can possibly made to turn out
so. Now he's talking of some young pale-face that was killed, whom he
calls Lover of Fun--and now he's got on some nigger, who he says fit
like a devil."
"All these persons are known to us, by _our_ traditions, also!"
exclaimed my uncle, with more interest than I had known him to manifest
for many a day. "But I'm amazed to find that the Indians retain so
accurate an account of such small matters for so long a time."
"It isn't a small matter to them. Their battles is seldom on a very
great scale, and they make great account of any skrimmage in which noted
warriors have fallen." Here Manytongues paused for a minute, and
listened attentively to the discourse of the chiefs, after which he
resumed his explanations. "They have met with a great difficulty in the
house," he continued, "while everything else is right. They understand
the cliff of rocks, the position of the buildings themselves, that
ravine thereaway, and all the rest of the things hereabouts, except the
house."
"What may be the difficulty with the house? Does it not stand in the
place it ought to occupy?"
"That's just their difficulty. It _does_ stand where it ought to stand,
but it isn't the right sort of house, though they say the shape agrees
well enough--one side out to the fields, like; two sides running back to
the cliff, and the cliff itself for the other. But their traditions say
that their warriors indivor'd to burn out your forefathers, and that
they built a fire ag'in the side of the buildin', which they never would
have done had it been built of stone, as this house is built. _That's_
what partic'larly puzzles them."
"Then their traditions are surprisingly minute and accurate! The house
which then stood on, or near this spot, and which did resemble the
present building in the ground plan, _was_ of squared logs, and might
have been set on fire, and an attempt was actually made to do so, but
was successfully resisted. Your chiefs have had a true account; but
changes have been made here. The house of logs stood near fifty years,
when it was replaced by this dwelling, which was originally erected
about sixty years ago, and has been added to since, on the old design.
No, no--the traditions are surprisingly accurate."
This gave the Indians great satisfaction, as soon as the fact was
communicated to them; and from that instant all their doubts and
uncertainty were ended. Their own knowledge of the progress of things in
a settlement gave them the means of comprehending any other changes;
though the shape of this building having so nearly corresponded with
that of which their traditions spoke, they had become embarrassed by the
difference in the material. While they were still continuing their
examinations, and ascertaining localities to their own satisfaction, my
uncle and myself continued the discourse with Manytongues.
"I am curious to know," said my uncle, "what may be the history of
Susquesus, that a party of chiefs like these should travel so far out of
their way to pay him the homage of a visit. Is his great age the cause?"
"That is one reason, sartainly; though there is another, that is of more
account, but which is known only to themselves. I have often tried to
get the history out of them, but never could succeed. As long as I can
remember, the Onondagoes, and Tuscaroras, and the Injins of the old New
York tribes, that have found their way up to the prairies, have talked
of the Upright Onondago, who must have been an old man when I was born.
Of late years they have talked more and more of him; and so good an
opportunity offering to come and see him, there would have been great
disappointment out West had it been neglected. His age is, no doubt, one
principal cause; but there is another, though I have never been able to
discover what it is."
"This Indian has been in communication, and connected with my immediate
family, now near, if not quite ninety years. He was with my grandfather,
Cornelius Littlepage, in the attack on Ty, that was made by Abercrombie,
in 1758; and here we are within twelve or thirteen years of a century
from that event. I believe my great-grandfather, Herman Mordaunt, had
even some previous knowledge of him. As long as I can remember, he has
been a gray-headed old man; and we suppose both he and the negro who
lives with him to have seen fully a hundred and twenty years, if not
more."
"Something of importance happened to Susquesus, or the Trackless, as he
was then called, about ninety-three winters ago; that much I've gathered
from what has fallen from the chiefs at different times; but what that
something was, it has exceeded my means to discover. At any rate, it has
quite as much to do with this visit, as the Withered Hemlock's great
age. Injins respect years; and they respect wisdom highly; but they
respect courage and justice most of all. The tarm 'Upright' has its
meaning, depend on't."
We were greatly interested by all this, as indeed were my grandmother
and her sweet companions. Mary Warren, in particular, manifested a
lively interest in Susquesus's history, as was betrayed in a brief
dialogue I now had with her, walking to and fro in front of the piazza,
while the rest of the party were curiously watching the movements of the
still excited savages.
"My father and I have often visited the two old men, and have been
deeply interested in them," observed this intelligent, yet simple-minded
girl--"with the Indian, in particular, we have felt a strong sympathy,
for nothing is plainer than the keenness with which he still feels on
the subject of his own people. We have been told that he is often
visited by red-men--or, at least, as often as any come near him; and
they are said ever to exhibit a great reverence for his years, and
respect for his character."
"This I know to be true, for I have frequently seen those who have come
to pay him visits. But they have usually been merely your basket-making,
half-and-half sort of savages, who have possessed the characteristics of
neither race, entirely. This is the first instance in which I have heard
of so marked a demonstration of respect--how is that, dear grandmother?
can you recall any other instance of Susquesus's receiving such a
decided mark of homage from his own people as this?"
"This is the third within my recollection, Hugh. Shortly after my
marriage, which was not long after the Revolution, as you may know,
there was a party here on a visit to Susquesus. It remained ten days.
The chiefs it contained were said to be Onondagoes altogether, or
warriors of his own particular people; and something like a
misunderstanding was reported to have been made up; though what it was,
I confess I was too thoughtless then to inquire. Both my father-in-law,
and my uncle Chainbearer, it was always believed, knew the whole of the
Trackless's story, though neither ever related it to me. I do not
believe your grandfather knew it," added the venerable speaker, with a
sort of tender regret, "or I think I should have heard it. But that
first visit was soon after Susquesus and Jaaf took possession of their
house, and it was reported, at the time, that the strangers remained so
long, in the hope of inducing Sus to rejoin his tribe. If such was their
wish, however, it failed; for there he is now, and there he has ever
been since he first went to the hut."
"And the second visit, grandmother--you mentioned that there were
three."
"Oh! tell us of them all, Mrs. Littlepage," added Mary earnestly,
blushing up to the eyes the moment after at her own eagerness. My dear
grandmother smiled benevolently on both, and I thought she looked a
little archly at us, as old ladies sometimes will, when the images of
their own youth recur to their minds.
"You appear to have a common sympathy in these red-men, my children,"
she answered, Mary fairly blushing scarlet at hearing herself thus
coupled with me in the term "children,"--"and I have great pleasure in
gratifying your curiosity. The second great visit that Susquesus
received from Indians occurred the very year you were born, Hugh, and
then we really felt afraid we might lose the old man; so earnest were
his own people in their entreaties that he would go away with them. But
he would not. Here he has remained ever since, and a few weeks ago he
told me that here he should die. If these Indians hope to prevail any
better, I am sure they will be disappointed."
"So he told my father, also," added Mary Warren, "who has often spoken
to him of death, and has hoped to open his eyes to the truths of the
gospel."
"With what success, Miss Warren? That is a consummation which would
terminate the old man's career most worthily."
"With little, I fear," answered the charming girl, in a low, melancholy
tone. "At least, I know that my father has been disappointed. Sus
listens to him attentively, but he manifests no feeling beyond respect
for the speaker. Attempts have been made to induce him to enter the
church before, but----"
"You were about to add something, Miss Warren, which still remains to be
said."
"I can add it for her," resumed my grandmother, "for certain I am that
Mary Warren will never add it herself. The fact is, as you must know,
Hugh, from your own observation, that Mr. Warren's predecessor was an
unfaithful and selfish servant of the Church--one who did little good to
any, not even himself. In this country it takes a good deal in a
clergyman to wear out the patience of a people; but it can be done; and
when they once get to look at him through the same medium as that with
which other men are viewed, a reaction follows, under which he is
certain to suffer. We could all wish to throw a veil over the conduct of
the late incumbent of St. Andrew's, but it requires one so much thicker
and larger than common, that the task is not easy. Mary has merely meant
that better instruction, and a closer attention to duty, might have done
more for Trackless twenty years ago, than they can do to-day."
"How much injury, after all, faithless ministers can do to the Church of
God! One such bad example unsettles more minds than twenty good examples
keep steady."
"I do not know that, Hugh; but of one thing I am certain--that more evil
is done by pretending to struggle for the honor of the Church, by
attempting to sustain its unworthy ministers, than could be done by at
once admitting their offences, in cases that are clear. We all know that
the ministers of the altar are but men, and as such are to be expected
to fall--certain to do so without Divine aid--but if we cannot make its
ministers pure, we ought to do all we can to keep the altar itself from
contamination."
"Yes, yes, grandmother--but the day has gone by for _ex officio_
religion in the American branch of the Church"--here Mary Warren joined
the other girls--"at least. And it is so best. Suspicions may be base
and unworthy, but a blind credulity is contemptible. If I see a chestnut
forming on yonder branch, it would be an act of exceeding folly in me to
suppose that the tree was a walnut, though all the nursery-men in the
country were ready to swear to it."
My grandmother smiled, but she also walked away, when I joined my uncle
again.
"The interpreter tells me, Hugh," said the last, "that the chiefs wish
to pay their first visit to the hut this evening. Luckily, the old
farm-house is empty just now, since Miller has taken possession of the
new one; and I have directed Mr. Manytongues to establish himself there,
while he and his party remain here. There is a kitchen, all ready for
their use, and it is only to send over a few cooking utensils, that is
to say, a pot or two, and fifty bundles of straw, to set them up in
housekeeping. For all this I have just given orders, not wishing to
disturb you, or possibly unwilling to lay down a guardian's authority;
and there is the straw already loading up in yonder barn-yard. In half
an hour they may rank themselves among the pot-wallopers of Ravensnest."
"Shall we go with them to the house before or after they have paid their
visit to Susquesus?"
"Before, certainly. John has volunteered to go over and let the Onondago
know the honor that is intended him, and to assist him in making his
toilet; for the red-man would not like to be taken in undress any more
than another. While this is doing, we can install our guests in their
new abode, and see the preparations commenced for their supper. As for
the "_Injins_" there is little to apprehend from them, I fancy, so long
as we have a strong party of the real Simon Pures within call."
After this, we invited the interpreter to lead his chiefs toward the
dwelling they were to occupy, preceding the party ourselves, and leaving
the ladies on the lawn. At that season, the days were at the longest,
and it would be pleasanter to pay the visit to the hut in the cool of
the evening than to go at an earlier hour. My grandmother ordered her
covered wagon before we left her, intending to be present at an
interview which everybody felt must be most interesting.
The empty building which was thus appropriated to the use of the Indians
was quite a century old, having been erected by my ancestor, Herman
Mordaunt, as the original farm-house on his own particular farm. For a
long time it had been used in its original character; and when it was
found convenient to erect another, in a more eligible spot, and of more
convenient form, this old structure had been preserved as a relic, and
from year to year its removal had been talked of, but not effected. It
remained, therefore, for me to decide on its fate, unless, indeed, the
"spirit of the institutions" should happen to get hold of it, and take
its control out of my hands, along with that of the rest of my property,
by way of demonstrating to mankind how thoroughly the great State of New
York is imbued with a love of rational liberty!
As we walked toward the "old farm-house," Miller came from the other
building to meet us. He had learned that his friends, the pedlers, were
his--what I shall call myself? "Master" would be the _legal_ term, and
it would be good English; but it would give the "honorable gentleman"
and his friends mortal offence, and I am not now to learn that there are
those among us who deny facts that are as plain as the noses on their
faces, and who fly right into the face of the law whenever it is
convenient. I shall not, however, call myself a "boss" to please even
these eminent statesmen, and therefore must be content with using a term
that, if the moving spirits of the day can prevail, will soon be
sufficiently close in its signification, and call myself Tom
Miller's--nothing.
It was enough to see that Miller was a good deal embarrassed with the
dilemma in which he was placed. For a great many years he and his family
had been in the employment of me and mine, receiving ample pay, as all
such men ever do--when they are so unfortunate as to serve a malignant
aristocrat--much higher pay than they would get in the service of your
Newcomes, your Holmeses and Tubbses, besides far better treatment in all
essentials; and now he had only to carry out the principles of the
anti-renters to claim the farm he and they had so long worked, as of
right. Yes, the same principles would just as soon give this hireling my
home and farm as it would give any tenant on my estate that which he
worked. It is true, one party received wages, while the other paid rent;
but these facts do not affect the principle at all; since he who
received the wages got no other benefit from his toil, while he who paid
the rent was master of all the crops--I beg pardon, the _boss_ of all
the crops. The common title of both--if any title at all exist--is the
circumstance that each had expended his labor on a particular farm, and
consequently had a right to own it for all future time.
Miller made some awkward apologies for not recognizing me, and
endeavored to explain away one or two little things that he must have
felt put him in rather an awkward position, but to which neither my
uncle nor myself attached any moment. We knew that poor Tom was human,
and that the easiest of all transgressions for a man to fall into were
those connected with his self-love; and that the temptation to a man who
has the consciousness of not being anywhere near the summit of the
social ladder, is a strong inducement to err when he thinks there is a
chance of getting up a round or two; failing of success in which it
requires higher feelings, and perhaps a higher station, than that of Tom
Miller's, not to leave him open to a certain demoniacal gratification
which so many experience at the prospect of beholding others dragged
down to their own level. We heard Tom's excuses kindly, but did not
commit ourselves by promises or declarations of any sort.