CHAPTER III. TYING A NIGHT-CAP.
In the preceding sketch I have given Mr. Slick's account of the Englishclimate, and his opinion of the dulness of a country house, as nearlyas possible in his own words. It struck me at the time that they wereexaggerated views; but if the weather were unpropitious, and the companynot well selected, I can easily conceive, that the impression on hismind would be as strong and as unfavourable, as he has described it tohave been.
The climate of England is healthy, and, as it admits of much out-doorexercise, and is not subject to any very sudden variation, or violentextremes of heat and cold, it may be said to be good, though notagreeable; but its great humidity is very sensibly felt by Americans andother foreigners accustomed to a dry atmosphere and clear sky. That Mr.Slick should find a rainy day in the country dull, is not to be wonderedat; it is probable it would be so any where, to a man who had so fewresources, within himself, as the Attache. Much of course depends on theinmates; and the company at the Shropshire house, to which he alludes,do not appear to have been the best calculated to make the state of theweather a matter of indifference to him.
I cannot say, but that I have at times suffered a depression of spiritsfrom the frequent, and sometimes long continued rains of this country;but I do not know that, as an ardent admirer of scenery, I would desireless humidity, if it diminished, as I fear it would, the extraordinaryverdure and great beauty of the English landscape. With respect to myown visits at country houses, I have generally been fortunate in theweather, and always in the company; but I can easily conceive, that aman situated as Mr. Slick appears to have been with respect to both,would find the combination intolerably dull. But to return to mynarrative.
Early on the following day we accompanied our luggage to the wharf,where a small steamer lay to convey us to the usual anchorage groundof the packets, in the bay. We were attended by a large concourse ofpeople. The piety, learning, unaffected simplicity, and kind dispositionof my excellent friend, Mr. Hopewell, were well known and fullyappreciated by the people of New York, who were anxious to testifytheir respect for his virtues, and their sympathy for his unmeritedpersecution, by a personal escort and a cordial farewell.
"Are all those people going with us, Sam?" said he; "how pleasant itwill be to have so many old friends on board, won't it?"
"No, Sir," said the Attache, "they are only a goin' to see you onboard--it is a mark of respect to you. They will go down to the "Tyler,"to take their last farewell of you."
"Well, that's kind now, ain't it?" he replied. "I suppose they thoughtI would feel kinder dull and melancholy like, on leaving my native landthis way; and I must say I don't feel jist altogether right neither.Ever so many things rise right up in my mind, not one arter another, butall together like, so that I can't take 'em one by one and reason 'emdown, but they jist overpower me by numbers. You understand me, Sam,don't you?"
"Poor old critter!" said Mr. Slick to me in an under-tone, "it'sno wonder he is sad, is it? I must try to cheer him up, if I can.Understand you, minister!" said he, "to be sure I do. I have been thatway often and often. That was the case when I was to Lowel factories,with the galls a taking of them off in the paintin' line. The dearlittle critters kept up such an everlastin' almighty clatter, clatter,clatter; jabber, jabber, jabber, all talkin' and chatterin' at once,you couldn't hear no blessed one of them; and they jist fairly stunned afeller. For nothin' in natur', unless it be perpetual motion, can equala woman's tongue. It's most a pity we hadn't some of the angeliferouslittle dears with us too, for they do make the time pass quick, that'sa fact. I want some on 'em to tie a night-cap for me to-night; I don'tcommonly wear one, but I somehow kinder guess, I intend to have one thistime, and no mistake."
"A night-cap, Sam!" said he; "why what on airth do you mean?"
"Why, I'll tell you, minister," said he, "you recollect sister Sall,don't you."
"Indeed, I do," said he, "and an excellent girl she is, a dutifuldaughter, and a kind and affectionate sister. Yes, she is a good girl isSally, a very good girl indeed; but what of her?"
"Well, she was a most a beautiful critter, to brew a glass of whiskeytoddy, as I ever see'd in all my travels was sister Sall, and I used tocall that tipple, when I took it late, a night-cap; apple jack andwhite nose ain't the smallest part of a circumstance to it. On such anoccasion as this, minister, when a body is leavin' the greatest nationatween the poles, to go among benighted, ignorant, insolent foreigners,you wouldn't object to a night-cap, now would you?"
"Well, I don't know as I would, Sam," said he; "parting from friendswhether temporally or for ever, is a sad thing, and the former istypical of the latter. No, I do not know as I would. We may use thesethings, but not abuse them. Be temperate, be moderate, but it is a sorryheart that knows no pleasure. Take your night-cap, Sam, and then commendyourself to His safe keeping, who rules the wind and the waves to Himwho--"
"Well then, minister, what a dreadful awful looking thing a night-cap iswithout a tassel, ain't it? Oh! you must put a tassel on it, and thatis another glass. Well then, what is the use of a night-cap, if it hasa tassel on it, but has no string, it will slip off your head the veryfirst turn you take; and that is another glass you know. But one stringwon't tie a cap; one hand can't shake hands along with itself: you musthave two strings to it, and that brings one glass more. Well then, whatis the use of two strings if they ain't fastened? If you want to keepthe cap on, it must be tied, that's sartain, and that is another go; andthen, minister, what an everlastin' miserable stingy, ongenteel crittera feller must be, that won't drink to the health of the Female Brewer.Well, that's another glass to sweethearts and wives, and then turn infor sleep, and that's what I intend to do to-night. I guess I'll tie thenight-cap this hitch, if I never do agin, and that's a fact."
"Oh Sam, Sam," said Mr. Hopewell, "for a man that is wide awake andduly sober, I never saw one yet that talked such nonsense as you do. Yousaid, you understood me, but you don't, one mite or morsel; but menare made differently, some people's narves operate on the brainsens_itively_ and give them exquisite pain or excessive pleasure; otherfolks seem as if they had no narves at all. You understand my words, butyou don't enter into my feelings. Distressing images rise up in my mindin such rapid succession, I can't master them, but they master me. Theycome slower to you, and the moment you see their shadows before you,you turn round to the light, and throw these dark figures behind you.I can't do that; I could when I was younger, but I can't now. Reasonis comparing two ideas, and drawing an inference. Insanity is, when youhave such a rapid succession of ideas, that you can't compare them. Howgreat then must be the pain when you are almost pressed into insanityand yet retain your reason? What is a broken heart? Is it death? I thinkit must be very like it, if it is not a figure of speech, for I feelthat my heart is broken, and yet I am as sensitive to pain as ever.Nature cannot stand this suffering long. You say these good people havecome to take their last farewell of me; most likely, Sam, it _is_ a lastfarewell. I am an old man now, I am well stricken in years; shall I everlive to see my native land again? I know not, the Lord's will be done!If I had a wish, I should desire to return to be laid with my kindred,to repose in death with those that were the companions of my earthlypilgrimage; but if it be ordered otherwise. I am ready to say with truthand meekness, 'Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.'"
When this excellent old man said that, Mr. Slick did not enter into hisfeelings--he did not do him justice. His attachment to and venerationfor his aged pastor and friend were quite filial, and such as to dohonour to his head and heart. Those persons who have made character astudy, will all agree, that the cold exterior of the New Englandman arises from other causes than a coldness of feeling; much of therhodomontade of the attache, addressed to Mr. Hopewell, was uttered forthe kind purpose of withdrawing his attention from those griefs whichpreyed so heavily upon his spirits.
"Minister," said Mr. Slick, "come, cheer up, it makes me kinder dismalto hear you talk so. When Captain McKenzie hanged up t
hem three free andenlightened citizens of ours on board of the--Somers--he gave 'em threecheers. We are worth half a dozen dead men yet, so cheer up. Talk tothese friends of ourn, they might think you considerable starch ifyou don't talk, and talk is cheap, it don't cost nothin' but breath, ascrape of your hind leg, and a jupe of the head, that's a fact."
Having thus engaged him in conversation with his friends, we proceededon board the steamer, which, in a short time, was alongside of the great"Liner." The day was now spent, and Mr. Hopewell having taken leave ofhis escort, retired to his cabin, very much overpowered by his feelings.
Mr. Slick insisted on his companions taking a parting glass with him,and I was much amused with the advice given him by some of his youngfriends and admirers. He was cautioned to sustain the high characterof the nation abroad; to take care that he returned as he went--a trueAmerican; to insist upon the possession of the Oregon Territory; todemand and enforce his right position in society; to negotiate thenational loan; and above all never to accede to the right of searchof slave-vessels; all which having been duly promised, they took anaffectionate leave of each other, and we remained on board, intending todepart in the course of the following morning.
As soon as they had gone, Mr. Slick ordered materials for brewing,namely: whisky, hot water, sugar and lemon; and having duly prepared inregular succession the cap, the tassel, and the two strings, filled histumbler again, and said,
"Come now, Squire, before we turn in, let us _tie the night-cap_."
The Attaché; or, Sam Slick in England — Complete Page 3
