And now for the improvement of this digression. I find a parallel to Mr.

Sawin's fortune in an adventure of my own. For, shortly after I had first broached to myself the before-stated natural-historical and archaeological theories, as I was pa.s.sing, _haec negotia penitus mec.u.m revolvens_, through one of the obscure suburbs of our New England metropolis, my eye was attracted by these words upon a sign-board,--CHEAP CASH-STORE. Here was at once the confirmation of my speculations, and the substance of my hopes. Here lingered the fragment of a happier past, or stretched out the first tremulous organic filament of a more fortunate future. Thus glowed the distant Mexico to the eyes of Sawin, as he looked through the dirty pane of the recruiting-office window, or speculated from the summit of that mirage-Pisgah which the imps of the bottle are so cunning in raising up. Already had my Alnaschar-fancy (even during that first half-believing glance) expended in various useful directions the funds to be obtained by pledging the ma.n.u.script of a proposed volume of discourses. Already did a clock ornament the tower of the Jaalam meeting-house--a gift appropriately, but modestly, commemorated in the parish and town records, both, for now many years, kept by myself. Already had my son Seneca completed his course at the University. Whether, for the moment, we may not be considered as actually lording it over those Baratarias with the viceroyalty of which Hope invests us, and whether we are ever so warmly housed as in our Spanish castles, would afford matter of argument. Enough that I found that sign-board to be no other than a bait to the trap of a decayed grocer. Nevertheless, I bought a pound of dates (getting short weight by reason of immense flights of harpy flies, who pursued and lighted upon their prey even in the very scales), which purchase I made, not only with an eye to the little ones at home, but also as a figurative reproof of that too-frequent habit of my mind, which, forgetting the due order of chronology, will often persuade me that the happy sceptre of Saturn is stretched over this Astraea-forsaken nineteenth century.

Having glanced at the ledger of Glory under the t.i.tle _Sawin, B._, let us extend our investigations, and discover if that instructive volume does not contain some charges more personally interesting to ourselves.

I think we should be more economical of our resources, did we thoroughly appreciate the fact, that, whenever Brother Jonathan seems to be thrusting his hand into his own pocket, he is, in fact, picking ours. I confess that the late _muck_ which the country has been running, has materially changed my views as to the best method of raising revenue.

If, by means of direct taxation, the bills for every extraordinary outlay were brought under our immediate eye, so that, like thrifty housekeepers, we could see where and how fast the money was going, we should be less likely to commit extravagances. At present, these things are managed in such a hugger-mugger way, that we know not what we pay for; the poor man is charged as much as the rich; and, while we are saving and scrimping at the spigot, the government is drawing off at the bung. If we could know that a part of the money we expend for tea and coffee goes to buy powder and ball, and that it is Mexican blood which makes the clothes on our backs more costly, it would set some of us athinking. During the present fall, I have often pictured to myself a government official entering my study, and handing me the following bill:--

WASHINGTON, Sept. 30, 1848.

REV. HOMER WILBUR _to_ UNCLE SAMUEL, _Dr._

To his share of work done in Mexico on partnership account, sundry jobs, as below.

" killing, maiming, and wounding about 5,000 Mexicans $2.00

" slaughtering one woman carrying water to wounded .10

" extra work on two different Sabbaths (one bombardment and one a.s.sault) whereby the Mexicans were prevented from defiling themselves with the idolatries of high ma.s.s 3.50

" throwing an especially fortunate and Protestant bomb-sh.e.l.l into the Cathedral at Vera Cruz, whereby several female Papists were slain at the altar .50

" his proportion of cash paid for conquered territory 1.75

" do. do. for conquering do. 1.50

" manuring do. with new superior compost called "American Citizen" .50

" extending the area of freedom and Protestantism .01

" glory .01 ------ $9.87

_Immediate payment is requested._

N.B. Thankful for former favours, U. S. requests a continuance of patronage. Orders executed with neatness and despatch. Terms as low as those of any other contractor for the same kind and style of work.

I can fancy the official answering my look of horror with,--"Yes, Sir, it looks like a high charge, Sir; but in these days slaughtering is slaughtering." Verily, I would that every one understood that it was; for it goes about obtaining money under the false pretence of being glory. For me, I have an imagination which plays me uncomfortable tricks. It happens to me sometimes to see a slaughterer on his way home from his day's work, and forthwith my imagination puts a c.o.c.ked-hat upon his head, and epaulettes upon his shoulders, and sets him up as a candidate for the Presidency. So, also, on a recent public occasion, as the place a.s.signed to the "Reverend Clergy" is just behind that of "Officers of the Army and Navy" in processions, it was my fortune to be seated at the dinner-table over against one of these respectable persons. He was arrayed as (out of his own profession) only kings, court-officers, and footmen are in Europe, and Indians in America. Now what does my over-officious imagination but set to work upon him, strip him of his gay livery, and present him to me coatless, his trousers thrust into the tops of a pair of boots thick with clotted blood, and a basket on his arm out of which lolled a gore-smeared axe, thereby destroying my relish for the temporal mercies upon the board before me.--H. W.]

No. IX.

A THIRD LETTER FROM B. SAWIN, ESQ.

[Upon the following letter slender comment will be needful. In what river Selemnus has Mr. Sawin bathed, that he has become so swiftly oblivious of his former loves? From an ardent and (as befits a soldier) confident wooer of that coy bride, the popular favour, we see him subside of a sudden into the (I trust not jilted) Cincinnatus, returning to his plough with a goodly-sized branch of willow in his hand; figuratively returning, however, to a figurative plough, and from no profound affection for that honoured implement of husbandry (for which, indeed, Mr. Sawin never displayed any decided predilection), but in order to be gracefully summoned therefrom to more congenial labours. It would seem that the character of the ancient Dictator had become part of the recognised stock of our modern political comedy, though, as our term of office extends to a quadrennial length, the parallel is not so minutely exact as could be desired. It is sufficiently so, however, for purposes of scenic representation. An humble cottage (if built of logs, the better) forms the Arcadian background of the stage. This rustic paradise is labeled Ashland, Jaalam, North Bend, Marshfield, Kinderhook, or Baton Rouge, as occasion demands. Before the door stands a something with one handle (the other painted in proper perspective), which represents, in happy ideal vagueness, the plough. To this the defeated candidate rushes with delirious joy, welcomed as a father by appropriate groups of happy labourers, or from it the successful one is torn with difficulty, sustained alone by a n.o.ble sense of public duty.

Only I have observed, that, if the scene be laid at Baton Rouge or Ashland, the labourers are kept carefully in the background, and are heard to shout from behind the scenes in a singular tone, resembling ululation, and accompanied by a sound not unlike vigorous clapping.

This, however, may be artistically in keeping with the habits of the rustic population of those localities. The precise connexion between agricultural pursuits and statesmanship I have not been able, after diligent inquiry, to discover. But, that my investigations may not be barren of all fruit, I will mention one curious statistical fact, which I consider thoroughly established, namely, that no real farmer ever attains practically beyond a seat in General Court, however theoretically qualified for more exalted station.

It is probable that some other prospect has been opened to Mr. Sawin, and that he has not made this great sacrifice without some definite understanding in regard to a seat in the cabinet, or a foreign mission.

It may be supposed that we of Jaalam were not untouched by a feeling of villatic pride in beholding our townsman occupying so large a s.p.a.ce in the public eye. And to me, deeply revolving the qualifications necessary to a candidate in these frugal times, those of Mr. S. seemed peculiarly adapted to a successful campaign. The loss of a leg, an arm, an eye, and four fingers, reduced him so nearly to the condition of a _vox et praeterea nihil_, that I could think of nothing but the loss of his head by which his chance could have been bettered. But since he has chosen to baulk our suffrages, we must content ourselves with what we can get, remembering _lactucas non esse dandas, dum cardui sufficiant_.--H. W.]

I spose you recollect thet I explained my gennle views In the last billet thet I writ, 'way down frum Veery Cruze, Jest arter I 'd a kind o' ben spontanously sot up To run unanimously fer the Presidential cup; O' course it worn't no wish o' mine, 't wuz ferfiely distressin', But poppiler enthusiasm gut so almighty pressin'

Thet, though like sixty all along I fumed an' fussed an' sorrered, There did n't seem no ways to stop their bringin' on me forrerd: Fact is, they udged the matter so, I could n't help admittin'

The Father o' his Country's shoes no feet but mine 'ould fit in, Besides the savin' o' the soles fer ages to succeed, Seein' thet with one wannut foot, a pair 'd be more 'n I need; An', tell ye wut, them shoes 'll want a thund'rin' sight o' patchin', Ef this ere fashion is to last we 've gut into o' hatchin'

A pair o' second Washintons fer every new election,-- Though, fur ez number one 's consarned, I don't make no objection.

I wuz agoin' on to say thet wen at fust I saw The ma.s.ses would stick to 't I wuz the Country's father-'n-law (They would ha' hed it _Father_, but I told 'em 't would n't du, Coz thet wuz sutthin' of a sort they could n't split in tu, An' Washinton hed hed the thing laid fairly to his door, Nor dars n't say 't worn't his'n, much ez sixty year afore), But 't aint no matter ez to thet; wen I wuz nomernated, 'T worn't natur but wut I should feel consid'able elated, An' wile the hooraw o' the thing wuz kind o' noo an' fresh, I thought our ticket would ha' caird the country with a resh.

Sence I 've come hum, though, an' looked round, I think I seem to find Strong argimunts ez thick ez fleas to make me change my mind; It 's clear to any one whose brain ain't fur gone in a phthisis, Thet hail Columby's happy land is goin' thru a crisis, An' 't would n't noways du to hev the people's mind distracted By bein' all to once by sev'ral pop'lar names attackted; 'T would save holl haycartloads o' fuss an' three four months o' jaw, Ef some ill.u.s.trous paytriot should back out an' withdraw; So, ez I aint a crooked stick, jest like--like ole (I swow, I dunno ez I know his name)--I 'll go back to my plough.

Now, 't aint no more 'n is proper 'n' right in sech a sitooation To hint the course you think 'll be the savin' o' the nation; To funk right out o' p'lit'cal strife aint thought to be the thing, Without you deacon off the toon you want your folks should sing; So I edvise the noomrous friends thet 's in one boat with me To jest up killock, jam right down their h.e.l.lum hard a lee, Haul the sheets taut, an', laying out upon the Suthun tack, Make fer the safest port they can, wich, _I_ think, is Ole Zack.

Next thing you 'll want to know, I spose, wut argimunts I seem To see thet makes me think this ere 'll be the strongest team; Fust place, I've ben consid'ble round in bar-rooms an' saloons Agethrin' public sentiment, 'mongst Demmercrats and c.o.o.ns, An' 't aint ve'y offen thet I meet a chap but wut goes in Fer Rough an' Ready, fair an' square, hufs, taller, horns, an' skin; I don't deny but wut, fer one, ez fur ez I could see, I didn't like at fust the Pheladelphy nomernee; I could ha' pinted to a man thet wuz, I guess, a peg Higher than him,--a soger, tu, an' with a wooden leg; But every day with more an' more o' Taylor zeal I 'm burnin', Seein' wich way the tide thet sets to office is aturnin'; Wy, into Bellers's we notched the votes down on three sticks,-- 'T wuz Birdofredum _one_, Ca.s.s _aught_, an' Taylor _twenty-six_, An', bein' the on'y canderdate thet wuz upon the ground, They said 't wuz no more 'n right thet I should pay the drinks all round; Ef I 'd expected sech a trick, I would n't ha' cut my foot By goin' an' votin' fer myself like a consumed coot; It did n't make no diff'rence, though; I wish I may be cust, Ef Bellers wuz n't slim enough to say he would n't trust!

Another pint thet influences the minds o' sober jedges Is thet the Gin'ral hez n't gut tied hand an' foot with pledges; He hez n't told ye wut he is, an' so there aint no knowin'

But wut he may turn out to be the best there is agoin'; This, at the on'y spot thet pinched, the shoe directly eases, Coz every one is free to 'xpect percisely wut he pleases: I want free-trade; you don't; the Gin'ral is n't bound to neither;-- I vote my way; you, yourn; an' both air sooted to a T there.

Ole Rough an' Ready, tu, 's a Wig, but without bein' ultry (He 's like a holsome hayinday, thet 's warm, but is n't sultry); He 's jest wut I should call myself, a kin' o' _scratch_, ez 't ware, Thet aint exacly all a wig nor wholly your own hair; I 've ben a Wig three weeks myself, jest o' this mod'rate sort, An' don't find them an' Demmercrats so different ez I thought; They both act pooty much alike, an' push an' scrouge an' cus; They 're like two pickpockets in league fer Uncle Samwell's pus; Each takes a side, an' then they squeeze the old man in between 'em, Turn all his pockets wrong side out an' quick ez lightnin' clean 'em; To nary one on 'em I 'd trust a secon'-handed rail No furder off 'an I could sling a bullock by the tail.

Webster sot matters right in that air Mashfiel' speech o' his'n;-- "Taylor," sez he, "aint nary ways the one thet I 'd a chizzen, Nor he ain't fittin' fer the place, an' like ez not he aint No more 'n a tough ole bullethead, an' no gret of a saint; But then," sez he, "obsarve my pint, he's jest ez good to vote fer Ez though the greasin' on him worn't a thing to hire Choate fer; Aint it ez easy done to drop a ballot in a box Fer one ez 't is fer t' other, fer the bulldog ez the fox?"

It takes a mind like Dannel's, fact, ez big ez all ou' doors, To find out thet it looks like rain arter it fairly pours; I 'gree with him, it aint so dreffle troublesome to vote Fer Taylor arter all,--it 's jest to go an' change your coat; Wen he's once greased, you 'll swaller him an' never know on't, source, Unless he scratches, goin' down, with them air Gin'ral's spurs.

I 've ben a votin' Demmercrat, ez reg'lar ez a clock, But don't find goin' Taylor gives my narves no gret 'f a shock; Truth is, the cutest leadin' Wigs, ever sence fust they found Wich side the bread gut b.u.t.tered on, hev kep' a edgin' round; They kin' o' slipt the planks frum out th' ole platform one by one An' made it gradooally noo, 'fore folks know'd wut wuz done, Till, fur 'z I know, there aint an inch thet I could lay my han' on, But I, or any Demmercrat, feels comf'table to stan' on, An' ole Wig doctrines act'lly look, their occ'pants bein' gone, Lonesome ez staddles on a mash without no hay-ricks on.

I spose it 's time now I should give my thoughts upon the plan, Thet chipped the sh.e.l.l at Buffalo, o' settin' up ole Van.

I used to vote fer Martin, but, I swan, I 'm clean disgusted,-- He aint the man thet I can say is fittin' to be trusted; He aint half antislav'ry 'nough, nor I aint sure, ez some be, He 'd go in fer abolishin' the Deestrick o' Columby; An', now I come to recollect, it kin' o' makes me sick 'z A horse, to think o' wut he wuz in eighteen thirty-six.

An' then, another thing;--I guess, though mebby I am wrong, This Buff'lo plaster aint agoin' to dror almighty strong; Some folks, I know, hev gut th' idee thet No'thun dough 'll rise, Though, 'fore I see it riz an' baked, I would n't trust my eyes; 'T will take more emptins, a long chalk, than this noo party 's gut, To give sech heavy cakes ez them a start, I tell ye wut.

But even ef they caird the day, there would n't be no endurin'

To stand upon a platform with sech critters ez Van Buren;-- An' his son John, tu, I can't think how thet air chap should dare To speak ez he doos; wy, they say he used to cuss an' swear!

I spose he never read the hymn thet tells how down the stairs A feller with long legs wuz throwed thet would n't say his prayers.

This brings me to another pint: the leaders o' the party Aint jest sech men ez I can act along with free an' hearty; They aint not quite respectable, an' wen a feller's morrils Don't toe the straightest kin' o' mark, wy, him an' me jest quarrils.

I went to a free soil meetin' once, an' wut d' ye think I see?

A feller wuz aspoutin' there thet act'lly come to me, About two year ago last spring, ez nigh ez I can jedge, An' axed me ef I didn't want to sign the Temprunce pledge!

He 's one o' them thet goes about an' sez you hed n't ough' to Drink nothin', mornin', noon, or night, stronger 'an Taunton water.

There 's one rule I 've ben guided by, in settlin' how to vote, ollers,-- I take the side thet _is n't_ took by them consarned tee-totallers.

Ez fer the n.i.g.g.e.rs, I 've been South, an' thet hez changed my mind; A lazier, more ungrateful set you could n't nowers find.

You know I mentioned in my last thet I should buy a n.i.g.g.e.r, Ef I could make a purchase at a pooty mod'rate figger; So, ez there 's nothin' in the world I 'm fonder of 'an gunnin', I closed a bargin finally to take a feller runnin'.

I shou'dered queen's-arm an' stumped out, an' wen I come t' th' swamp, 'T worn't very long afore I gut upon the nest o' Pomp; I come acrost a kin' o' hut, an', playin' round the door, Some little woolly-headed cubs, ez many 'z six or more.

At fust I thought o' firin', but _think twice_ is safest ollers; There aint, thinks I, not one on em' but 's wuth his twenty dollars, Or would be, ef I hed 'em back into a Christian land,-- How temptin' all on 'em would look upon an auction-stand!

(Not but wut _I_ hate Slavery in th' abstract, stem to starn,-- I leave it ware our fathers did, a privit State consarn.) Soon 'z they see _me_, they yelled an' run, but Pomp wuz out ahoein'

A leetle patch o' corn he hed, or else there aint no knowin'

He would n't ha' took a pop at me; but I hed gut the start, An' wen he looked, I vow he groaned ez though he'd broke his heart; He done it like a wite man, tu, ez nat'ral ez a pictur, The imp'dunt, pis'nous hypocrite! wus 'an a boy constrictur.

"You can 't gum _me_, I tell ye now, an' so you need n't try, I 'xpect my eye-teeth every mail, so jest shet up," sez I.

"Don't go to actin' ugly now, or else I 'll jest let strip, You 'd best draw kindly, seein' 'z how I 've gut ye on the hip; Besides, you darned ole fool, it aint no gret of a disaster To be benev'lently druv back to a contented master, Ware you hed Christian priv'ledges you don't seem quite aware of, Or you 'd ha' never run away from bein' well took care of; Ez fer kin' treatment, wy, he wuz so fond on ye, he said He 'd give a fifty spot right out, to git ye, 'live or dead; Wite folks aint sot by half ez much; 'member I run away, Wen I wuz bound to Cap'n Jakes, to Mattysqumscot bay; Don' know him, likely? Spose not; wal, the mean ole codger went An' offered--wut reward, think? Wal, it worn't no _less_ 'n a cent."

Wal, I jest gut 'em into line, an druv 'em on afore me, The pis'nous brutes, I 'd no idee o' the ill-will they bore me; We walked till som'ers about noon, an' then it grew so hot I thought it best to camp awile, so I chose out a spot Jest under a magnoly tree, an' there right down I sot; Then I unstrapped my wooden leg, coz it begun to chafe, An' laid it down jest by my side, supposin' all wuz safe; I made my darkies all set down around me in a ring, An' sot an' kin' o' ciphered up how much the lot would bring; But, wile I drinked the peaceful cup of a pure heart an' mind (Mixed with some wiskey, now an' then), Pomp he snaked up behind, An', creepin' grad'lly close tu, ez quiet ez a mink, Jest grabbed my leg, and then pulled foot, quicker 'an you could wink, An', come to look, they each on 'em hed gut behin' a tree, An' Pomp poked out the leg a piece, jest so ez I could see, An' yelled to me to throw away my pistils an' my gun, Or else thet they 'd cair off the leg an' fairly cut the run.

I vow I did n't b'lieve there wuz a decent alligatur Thet hed a heart so dest.i.toot o' common human natur; However, ez there worn't no help, I finally gev in An' heft my arms away to git my leg safe back agin.