The Attache or Sam Slick in England Part 16

Mc'Dougall to Nova Scotia; well, he knows all about mineralogy, and geology, and astrology, and every thing a'most, except what he ought to know, and that is dollar-ology. For he ain't over and above half well off, that's a fact. Well, a critter of the name of Oatmeal, down to Pictou, said to another Scotchman there one day, 'The great nateralist Dr. Mc'Dougall is come to town.'

"'Who?' says Sawney.

"'Dr. Mc'Dougall, the nateralist,' says Oatmeal.

"'Hout, mon,' says Sawney, 'he is nae nateral, that chiel; he kens mair than maist men; he is nae that fool you take him to be.'

"Now, I am not such a fool as you take _me_ to be, Squire. Whenever I did a sum to, school, Minister used to say, 'Prove it, Sam, and if it won't prove, do it over agin, till it will; a sum ain't right when it won't prove.' Now, I say the English have the Spy System, and I'll prove it; nay, more than that, they have the nastiest, dirtiest, meanest, sneakenest system in the world. It is ten times as bad as the French plan. In France they have bar-keepers, waiters, chamber galls, guides, quotillions,--"

"Postilions, you mean," I said.

"Well, postilions then, for the French have queer names for people, that's a fact; disbanded sodgers, and such trash, for spies. In England they have airls and countesses, Parliament men, and them that call themselves gentlemen and ladies, for spies."

"How very absurd!" I said.

"Oh yes, very absurd," said Mr. Slick; "whenever I say anythin' agin England, it's very absurd, it's all prejudice. Nothin' is strange, though, when it is said of us, and the absurder it is, the truer it is.

I can bam as well as any man when bam is the word, but when fact is the play, I am right up and down, and true as a trivet. I won't deceive you; I'll prove it.

"There was a Kurnel Dun--dun--plague take his name, I can't recollect it, but it makes no odds--I know _he_ is Dun for, though, that's a fact.

Well, he was a British kurnel, that was out to Halifax when I was there.

I know'd him by sight, I didn't know him by talk, for I didn't fill then the dignified situation I now do, of Attache. I was only a clockmaker then, and I suppose he wouldn't have dirtied the tip eend of his white glove with me then, any more than I would sile mine with him now, and very expensive and troublesome things them white gloves be too; there is no keepin' of them clean. For my part, I don't see why a man can't make his own skin as clean as a kid's, any time; and if a feller can't be let shake hands with a gall except he has a glove on, why ain't he made to cover his lips, and kiss thro' kid skin too.

"But to get back to the kurnel, and it's a pity he hadn't had a glove over his mouth, that's a fact. Well, he went home to England with his regiment, and one night when he was dinin' among some first chop men, n.o.bles and so on, they sot up considerable late over their claret; and poor thin cold stuff it is too, is claret. A man _may_ get drowned in it, but how the plague he can get drunk with it is dark to me. It's like every thing else French, it has no substance in it; it's nothin' but red ink, that's a fact. Well, how it was I don't know, but so it eventuated, that about daylight he was mops and brooms, and began to talk somethin'

or another he hadn't ought to; somethin' he didn't know himself, and somethin' he didn't mean, and didn't remember.

"Faith, next mornin' he was booked; and the first thing he see'd when he waked was another man a tryin' on of his shoes, to see how they'd fit to march to the head of his regiment with. Fact, I a.s.sure you, and a fact too that shows what Englishmen has come to; I despise 'em, I hate 'em, I scorn such critters as I do oncarc.u.mcised n.i.g.g.e.rs."

"What a strange perversion of facts," I replied.

But he would admit of no explanation. "Oh yes, quite parvarted; not a word of truth in it; there never is when England is consarned. There is no beam in an Englishman's eye; no not a smell of one; he has pulled it out long ago; that's the reason he can see the mote in other folks's so plain. Oh, of course it ain't true; it's a Yankee invention; it's a hickory ham and a wooden nutmeg.

"Well, then, there was another feller got bagged t'other day, as innocent as could be, for givin' his opinion when folks was a talkin'

about matters and things in gineral, and this here one in partikilar. I can't tell the words, for I don't know 'em, nor care about 'em; and if I did, I couldn't carry 'em about so long; but it was for sayin' it hadn't ought to have been taken notice of, considerin' it jist popt out permiscuous like with the bottle-cork. If he hadn't a had the clear grit in him, and showed teeth and claws, they'd a nullified him so, you wouldn't have see'd a grease spot of him no more. What do you call that, now? Do you call that liberty? Do you call that old English? Do you call it pretty, say now? Thank G.o.d, it tante Yankee."

"I see you have no prejudice, Mr. Slick," I replied.

"Not one mite or morsel," he replied. "Tho' I was born in Connecticut, I have travelled all over the thirteen united univarsal worlds of ourn and am a citizen at large. No, I have no prejudice. You say I am mistaken; p'raps I am, I hope I be, and a stranger may get hold of the wrong eend of a thing sometimes, that's a fact. But I don't think I be wrong, or else the papers don't tell the truth; and I read it in all the jarnals; I did, upon my soul. Why man, it's history now, if such nasty mean doins is worth puttin' into a book.

"What makes this Spy System to England wuss, is that these eaves-droppers are obliged to hear all that's said, or lose what commission they hold; at least so folks tell me. I recollect when I was there last, for it's some years since Government first sot up the Spy System; there was a great feed given to a Mr. Robe, or Robie, or some such name, an out and out Tory. Well, sunthin' or another was said over their cups, that might as well have been let alone, I do suppose, tho'

dear me, what is the use of wine but to onloosen the tongue, and what is the use of the tongue, but to talk. Oh, cuss 'em, I have no patience with them. Well, there was an officer of a marchin' regiment there, who it seems ought to have took down the words and sent 'em up to the head Gineral, but he was a knowin' c.o.o.n, was officer, and _didn't hear it_.

No sooner said than done; some one else did the dirty work for him; but you can't have a subst.i.tute for this, you must sarve in person, so the old Gineral hawls him right up for it.

"'Why the plague, didn't you make a fuss?' sais the General, 'why didn't you get right up, and break up the party?'

"'I didn't hear it,' sais he.

"'You didn't hear it!' sais Old Sword-belt, 'then you had ought to have heerd it; and for two pins, I'd sharpen your hearin' for you, so that a snore of a fly would wake you up, as if a byler had bust.'

"Oh, how it has lowered the English in the eyes of foreigners! How sneakin' it makes 'em look! They seem for all the world like scared dogs; and a dog when he slopes off with his head down, his tail atween his legs, and his back so mean it won't bristle, is a caution to sinners. Lord. I wish I was Queen!"

"What, of such a degraded race as you say the English are, of such a mean-spirited, sneaking nation?"

"Well, they warn't always so," he replied. "I will say that, for I have no prejudice. By natur, there is sunthin' n.o.ble and manly in a Britisher, and always was, till this cussed Spy System got into fas.h.i.+on.

They tell me it was the Liberals first brought it into vogue. How that is. I don't know; but I shouldn't wonder if it was them, for I know this, if a feller talks _very_ liberal in politics, put him into office, and see what a tyrant he'll make. If he talks very liberal in religion, it's because he hante got none at all. If he talks very liberal to the poor, talk is all the poor will ever get out of him. If he talks liberal about corn law, it tante to feed the hungry, but to lower wages, and so on in every thing a most. None is so liberal as those as hante got nothin'. The most liberal feller I know on is "Old Scratch himself." If ever the liberals come in, they should make him Prime Minister. He is very liberal in religion and would jine them in excludin' the Bible from common schools I know. He is very liberal about the criminal code, for he can't bear to see criminals punished. He is very liberal in politics, for he don't approbate restraint, and likes to let every critter 'go to the devil' his own way. Oh, he should be Head Spy and Prime Minister that feller.

"But without jokin' tho', if I was Queen, the fust time any o' my ministers came to me to report what the spies had said, I'd jist up and say, 'Minister,' I'd say, 'it is a cussed oninglish, onmanly, n.i.g.g.e.rly business, is this of pumpin', and spyin', and tattlin'. I don't like it a bit. I'll have neither art nor part in it; I wash my hands clear of it. It will jist break the spirit of my people. So, minister look here.

The next report that is brought to me of a spy, I'll whip his tongue out and whop your ear off, or my name ain't Queen. So jist mind what I say; first spy pokes his nose into your office, chop it off and clap it up over Temple Bar, where they puts the heads of traitors and write these words over, with your own fist, that they may know the handwritin', and not mistake the meanin', _This is the nose of a Spy_."

CHAPTER II. THE PATRON; OR, THE COW'S TAIL.

Nothing is so fatiguing as sight-seeing. The number and variety of objects to which your attention is called, and the rapid succession in which they pa.s.s in review, at once wearies and perplexes the mind; and unless you take notes to refresh your memory, you are apt to find you carry away with you but an imperfect and indistinct recollection.

Yesterday was devoted to an inspection of the Tunnel and an examination of the Tower, two things that ought always to be viewed in juxta-position; one being the greatest evidence of the science and wealth of modern times; and the other of the power and pomp of our forefathers.

It is a long time before a stranger can fully appreciate the extent of population and wealth of this vast metropolis. At first, he is astonished and confused; his vision is indistinct. By degrees he begins to understand its localities, the ground plan becomes intelligible and he can take it all in at a view. The map is a large one; it is a chart of the world. He knows the capes and the bays; he has sailed round them, and knows their relative distance, and at last becomes aware of the magnitude of the whole. Object after object becomes more familiar. He can estimate the population; he compares the amount of it with that of countries that he is acquainted with, and finds that this one town contains within it nearly as great a number of souls as all British North America. He estimates the incomes of the inhabitants, and finds figures almost inadequate to express the amount. He asks for the sources from whence it is derived. He resorts to his maxims of political economy, and they cannot inform him. He calculates the number of acres of land in England, adds up the rental, and is again at fault. He inquires into the statistics of the Exchange, and discovers that even that is inadequate; and, as a last resource, concludes that the whole world is tributary to this Queen of Cities. It is the heart of the Universe. All the circulation centres here, and hence are derived all those streams that give life and strength to the extremities. How vast, how populous, how rich, how well regulated, how well supplied, how clean, how well ventilated, how healthy!--what a splendid city! How worthy of such an empire and such a people!

What is the result of his experience? _It is, that there is no such country in the world as England, and no such place in England as London; that London is better than any other town in winter, and quite as good as any other place in summer; that containing not only all that he requires, but all that he can wish, in the greatest perfection, he desires never to leave it._

Local description, however, is not my object; I shall therefore, return to my narrative.

Our examination of the Tower and the Tunnel occupied the whole day, and though much gratified, we were no less fatigued. On returning to our lodgings, I found letters from Nova Scotia. Among others, was one from the widow of an old friend, enclosing a memorial to the Commander-in-Chief, setting forth the important and gratuitous services of her late husband to the local government of the province, and soliciting for her son some small situation in the ordnance department, which had just fallen vacant at Halifax. I knew that it was not only out of my power to aid her, but that it was impossible for her, however strong the claims of her husband might be, to obtain her request. These things are required for friends and dependants in England; and in the race of compet.i.tion, what chance of success has a colonist?

I made up my mind at once to forward her memorial as requested, but pondered on the propriety of adding to it a recommendation. It could do no good. At most, it would only be the certificate of an unknown man; of one who had neither of the two great qualifications, namely, county or parliamentary interest, but it might do harm. It might, by engendering ridicule from the insolence of office, weaken a claim, otherwise well founded. "Who the devil is this Mr. Thomas Poker, that recommends the prayer of the pet.i.tion? The fellow imagines all the world must have heard of him. A droll fellow that, I take it from his name: but all colonists are queer fellows, eh?"

"Bad news from home?" said Mr. Slick, who had noticed my abstraction.

"No screw loose there, I hope. You don't look as if you liked the flavour of that ere nut you are crackin' of. Whose dead? and what is to pay now?"

I read the letter and the memorial, and then explained from my own knowledge how numerous and how valuable were the services of my deceased friend, and expressed my regret at not being able to serve the memorialist.

"Poor woman!" said Mr. Hopewell, "I pity her. A colonist has no chance for these things; they have no patron. In this country merit will always obtain a patron--in the provinces never. The English are a n.o.ble-minded, generous people, and whoever here deserves encouragement or reward, is certain to obtain either or both: but it must be a brilliant man, indeed, whose light can be perceived across the Atlantic."

"I entertain, Sir," I said, "a very strong prejudice against relying on patrons. Dr. Johnson, after a long and fruitless attendance on Lord Chesterfield, says: 'Seven years, my Lord, have now past, since I waited in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pus.h.i.+ng on my work, through difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it at last to the verge of publication, without one act of a.s.sistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favour. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never bad a patron before."

"Ah!" said Mr. Hopewell, "a man who feels that he is wrong, is always angry with somebody else. Dr. Johnson, is not so much to be admired for the independence that dictated that letter, as condemned for the meanness and servility of seven years of voluntary degradation. It is no wonder he spoke with bitterness; for, while he censured his Lords.h.i.+p, he must have despised himself. There is a great difference between a literary and a political patron. The former is not needed, and a man does better without one; the latter is essential. A good book, like good wine, needs no bush; but to get an office, you want merits or patrons;--merits so great, that they cannot be pa.s.sed over, or friends so powerful, they cannot be refused."

"Oh! you can't do nothin', Squire," said Mr. Sick, "send it back to Old Marm; tell her you have the misfortin to be a colonist; that if her son would like to be a constable, or a Hogreave, or a thistle-viewer, or sunthin' or another of that kind, you are her man: but she has got the wrong cow by the tail this time. I never hear of a patron, I don't think of a frolic I once had with a cow's tail; and, by hanging on to it like a snappin' turtle, I jist saved my life, that's a fact.

"Tell you what it is, Squire, take a fool's advice, for once. Here you are; I have made you considerable well-known, that's a fact; and will introduce you to court, to king and queen, or any body you please. For our legation, though they can't dance, p'raps, as well as the French one can, could set all Europe a dancin' in wide awake airnest, if it chose.

They da.r.s.ent refuse us nothin', or we would fust embargo, and then go to war. Any one you want to know, I'll give you the ticket. Look round, select a good critter, and hold on to the tail, for dear life, and see if you hante a patron, worth havin'. You don't want none yourself, but you might want one some time or another, for them that's a comin' arter you.

"When I was a half grow'd lad, the bears came down from Nor-West one year in droves, as a body might say, and our woods near Slickville was jist full of 'em. It warn't safe to go a-wanderin' about there a-doin'

of nothin', I tell _you_. Well, one arternoon, father sends me into the back pastur', to bring home the cows, 'And,' says he, 'keep a stirrin', Sam, go ahead right away, and be out of the bushes afore sun-set, on account of the bears, for that's about the varmints' supper-time.'

"Well, I looks to the sky, and I sees it was a considerable of a piece yet to daylight down, so I begins to pick strawberries as I goes along, and you never see any thing so thick as they were, and wherever the gra.s.s was long, they'd stand up like a little bush, and hang in cl.u.s.ters, most as big and twice as good, to my likin', as garden ones.

Well, the sun, it appears to me, is like a hoss, when it comes near dark it mends its pace, and gets on like smoke, so afore I know'd where I was, twilight had come peepin' over the spruce tops.