The circumstances _were_ a little peculiar,--it is in vain to deny it.
No wonder that several friends of mine, who were struggling and
stumbling up to position at the city bar, could never understand why I
was selected, by a nearly unanimous vote, to represent Foxden at the
General Court. Though I had occupied an old farm-house of Colonel
Prowley's during part of the summer, and had happened to be in it about
the first of May to pay taxes, yet it was well known that my city office
occupied by far the greater part of my time and attention. And really,
when you think of the "remarkable men" long identified with this ancient
river-town, an outside selection seems quite unaccountable.
Chosen a member of the "Young Men's Gelasmiphilous Society" during my
first visit to Foxden, of course I tried to be tolerably lively at the
meetings. But my innocence of thereby attempting the acquisition of
political capital I beg explicitly to declare. The joke of the thing
was----But stop!--to tell just what it was, I must begin, after the
Richardsonian style, with extracts from correspondence. For, as the
reader may suspect, my friend Colonel Prowley was not inclined to
slacken his epistolary attentions after the success of his little
scheme, of which the particulars were given last April. And as my wife
turned out to possess the feminine facility of letter-writing, and was
good enough to assume the burden of replying to his voluminous
productions, they became the delight of many Saturday evenings devoted
to their perusal.
It was about the middle of September when an unusually bulky envelope
from the Colonel inclosed a sealed note containing the following
communication:--
"Rooms of the Young Men's
Gelasmiphilous Society.
"SIR: You will herewith receive a copy of a resolution
nominating you as the Young Men's candidate for the next
Legislature. You are doubtless aware that it is the custom
for all new candidates to deliver a lyceum-lecture in Foxden
on the evening before the election. We have therefore
engaged the Town Hall in your behalf on the P. M. of
November fifth. Knowing something of the taste in lectures
of those disposed to support you, I venture to recommend the
selection of some light and humorous subject.
"I am fraternally yrs.,
"THADDEUS WASPY,
"Secretary Y. M. G. S.
"P. S. Dr. Howke, who was run last year without success, is
upon the opposition ticket. As the old-fogy element of the
town will probably rally to his support, it is very
important that you bring out the entire strength of Young
Foxden. Thus you see the necessity of having your lecture
lively and full of fun. If you feel equal to it, I am sure
that a Comic Poem would be a great hit."
As illustrating this extraordinary missive, there is subjoined an
extract from the accompanying epistle of my regular Foxden
correspondent.
"I inclose what I am given to understand is a nomination to
the Honorable Legislature, a distinction which, I need not
say, gives the highest gratification to my sister and
myself. You will be opposed in this noble emulation by one
Howke, a physician of North Foxden, with whom our venerable
and influential Dr. Dastick has much osseous sympathy. Dr.
Howke (long leaning to the Root-and-Herb School of Medicine,
and having wrought many notable cures with such simples as
sage, savory, wormwood, sweet-marjoram, sassafras,
liverwort, pine-cones, rosemary, poppy-leaves, not to speak
of plasters of thyme, cowslips, rose-buds, fit to refresh
the tired wings of Ariel) has latterly declared his
conversion to the Indian system of physic. The celebrated
Wigwam Family Pills, to the manufacture of which he at
present devotes himself, are not unknown to city journals.
As I am informed that Captain Strype, editor of the "Foxden
Regulator," has a large interest in the sale of these
alterative spherules, you will necessarily encounter the
hostility of our county journal. I advise you of the full
might of these adversaries, that you may come to fuller
justification of your supporters in the lecture to be read
before us on election-eve. Dr. Dastick, with some of the
elder of this town, has little liking for this laic
preaching of the lyceum, by reason of the slight and foolish
matter too often dispensed, when in the mean time there be
precious gems of knowledge, the very onyx or sapphire to
bedeck the mind, which the muck-rake of the lecturer never
collects. I add for your consideration a few wholesome
subjects:--Caleb Cheeschateaumuck, the Indian Bachelor of
Arts; A Monody on the Apostle Eliot; A Suggestion of Some
New Claimant for the Honors of Junius; Mather's Four
_Johannes in Eremo_, being Notable Facts in the Lives of
John Cotton, John Norton, John Wilson, and John Davenport;
The Great Obligations of Homer to the Illustrious Mr. Pope;
"New England's Jonas cast up in London," Some Account of
this Remarkable Work; Natootomakteackesuk, or the Day of
Asking Questions, whether this Ancient Festival might be
profitably Revived?--I should feel competent to give
assistance in the treatment of any of these subjects you
might select. If the Muse inspire you, why not try a
descriptive poem, modelled, let us say, upon William
Morrill's 'New England'? The silver ring of verse would be
joyfully heard among us, and work strong persuasions in your
behalf.... I must not forget to mention, that, on the day of
your lecture, you will meet at dinner at my house my
esteemed Western correspondent, Professor Owlsdarck, (his
grandmother was a Sodkin,) whose great work upon Mummies is
the admiration of the literary world. He has been invited to
deliver an address upon some speciality of erudition before
the trustees, parents, and pupils of the Wrexford Academy,
and that upon the same evening you are to speak in Foxden.
As the distance is only ten miles, I shall send him over in
the carryall after an early tea. And now to share with you a
little secret. The office of Principal of the Academy is
vacant, and the well-known learning of Professor Owlsdarck
gives his friends great hope in recommending him for the
place. He formerly lived in Wrexford, where his early
'Essays on Cenotaphs,' published in the local paper of that
town, were very popular. Indeed, I think the trustees have
only to hear the weighty homily he will provide for them to
decide by acclamation in his favor. Thus you see my double
interest in your visits next November; for, as I think, both
my guests will come upon brave opportunities for fame and
usefulness."
"And what shall you do about it?" asked my wife, after we had thoroughly
read the documents which have been quoted.
"Stand," I replied, with emphasis. "I don't think there's any chance of
an election; but Heaven knows I want the rough-hewing of a political
campaign. If I could get a little of the stump-orator's brass into my
composition, it would be worth five years of office-practice for putting
me on in the profession."
"But you have always had such unwillingness to address an audience,"
faltered Kate.
"The more reason why an effort should now be made to get over it," I
replied. "In short, I consider this nomination quite providential, for I
could never have descended to the vulgar wire-pulling by which such
distinctions are commonly gained; and I confess, it promises to be just
the discipline I want. Of course I have no expectation of being chosen."
"But why should you not be chosen?" urged my wife. "You are tolerably
well-known in Foxden; Colonel Prowley, an influential citizen, is your
warm friend; and Mr. Waspy tells you how you may get the support of the
active generation."
"Yes,--by playing literary Grimaldi an hour or so for their diversion! A
very good recipe, were it not probable that the elder portion of the
town would fail to see the humor of it."
"But you may be certain that everybody likes to laugh at a
lyceum-lecture."
"Everybody but a clique of pseudo-wiseacres in Foxden perhaps may," I
replied. "But our good friend, the Colonel, has so established his
antiquarian dictatorship over his contemporaries, that I believe
nothing adapted to the present century could possibly please them."
"You may depend upon it," argued Kate, consolingly, "that all the lieges
of Foxden will be so taken up with this Professor Owlsdarck, who is
fortunately to be there at the same time, that they will give little
thought to your deficiencies. At all events, there is nothing to be done
but to try to please the Young Men who give you the nomination."
Of course I agreed in this view of the case, and began to cast about for
some grotesque subject for my lecture. But regret at disappointing the
expectations of my old friend caused me to dismiss such light topics as
presented themselves, and after searching for half an hour, I declared
myself as much at a loss as ever.
"I think I have it!" cried Kate, at length. "Both your correspondents
say that a poem would be particularly acceptable,--and a poem it must
be."
"Modelled on William Morrill's 'New England'?" I said, dubiously.
"Not at all; but a comic; poem, such as the secretary asks for. The dear
Colonel will be pleased at the pretension of verse, and your humorous
passages may be passed off as poetic license."
"There is much in what you say," I replied; "and if I put something
about New England into the title, it will go far to reconcile all
difficulties."
"Why not call it 'The Whims of New England'?" suggested Kate.
"'The Whims of New England,'" I repeated. "Let me think how it would
look in print:--'We understand that the brilliant, sparkling, and highly
humorous poem, entitled "The Whims of New England," which convulsed the
_élite_ of Foxden on Friday evening last,' etc., etc. Yes, it sounds
well! 'The Whims of New England,' it shall be!"
It was a great satisfaction to have decided upon the style and title;
and I sat down at once and began to jot off lines of ten syllables.
"What do you think of this for a beginning?" I presently asked:--
"Who shall subdue this headlong-dashing Time,
And lead it fettered through a dance of rhyme?
Where is the coming man who shall not shrink
To lay the Ocean Telegraph--in ink?
Who comes to give us in a form compact
Essence of horse-car, caucus, song, and tract?"
"But why begin with all these questions?" inquired Kate.
"It is the custom, my dear," I replied, decisively. "It is the
conventional 'Here we are' of the poetical clown."
"Well, you must remember to be funny enough," said my wife, with
something like a sigh. "It is not the humorous side of her hero's
character that a woman likes to contemplate; so give me credit for
disinterestedness in the advice."
"'Motley's the only wear'!" I exclaimed,--"at least before the Young Men
of the Gelasmiphilous Society. I have a stock of Yankee anecdotes that
can be worked off in rhyme to the greatest advantage. In short, I mean
to attempt one of those immensely popular productions that no
library--that is, no circulating library--should be without."
Easier said than done. The evenings of several weeks were pretty
diligently devoted to my poem. I determined to begin with a few moral
reflections, and in these I think I succeeded in reaching the highest
standard of edification and dulness. Not that I didn't succeed in the
revel of comicalities I afterward permitted myself; but the selection
and polishing of these oddities cost me much more labor than I had
expected. I was really touched at the way in which my wife sacrificed
her feminine preference for the emotional and sentimental, and heard me
read over my piquant periods in order that all the graces of declamation
might give them full effect. And when my poem was at length finished,
when my stories had been carefully arranged with their points bristling
out in all directions, when every shade of emphasis had been studied, I
think it might have been called a popular performance,--perhaps _too_
popular;--but that is a matter of opinion.
I felt decidedly nervous, as the time approached when I should make my
first appearance before an audience. And the receipt of long letters
from Colonel Prowley, overflowing with hopes, expectations, and offers
about my contemplated harangue, did not decrease my embarrassment.
"How shall I tell the old gentleman," I exclaimed, one day, after
reading one of his Pre-Adamite epistles,--"how shall I tell him, that,
instead of the solid discourse he expects, I have nothing but a
collection of trumpery rhymes?"
"Why tell him anything about it?" said Kate. "The committee have not
asked you to announce a subject, or even to declare whether you intend
to address them in prose or verse. Then say nothing; when you begin to
speak, it will be time enough for people to find out what you are to
speak about, and whether they like it or not."
"A capital plan!" I cried; "for I know, that, if Prowley, Dastick, and
the rest of them, can once hear the thing, and find out how popular it
is with the audience, they will come round and talk about sugared
verses, or something of the sort."
So it was decided that no notice of what I was to say, or how I was to
say it, should be given to any inhabitant of Foxden. The town,
unprepared by the approaches of a regular literary siege, must be
carried by a grand assault. At times I felt doubtful; but then I knew it
was the distrust of modesty and inexperience.