Afloat and Ashore: A Sea Tale

by James Fenimore Cooper

  CHAPTER XXII.

  "Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats, and water-rats, water-thieves, and land-thieves; I mean pirates; and then, there is the peril of waters, winds and rocks: the man is, notwithstanding, sufficient;--three thousand ducats;--I think I may take his bond."--_Shylock_.

  I saw Grace, and Lucy, and Rupert, and good Mr. Hardinge, every day; butI could not find time to call on the Mertons, until near the close of aweek. I then paid them a visit, and found them glad to see me, but notat all in want of my attentions to make them comfortable. The Major hadexhibited his claims to the British consul, who happened to be a nativeManhattanese, and was well-connected, a circumstance that then gavehim an influence in society, that his commission alone would not haveconferred. Colonel Barclay, for so was this gentleman called, had takenthe Mertons by the hand, as a matter of course; and his example beingfollowed by others, I found that they were already in the best circle ofthe place. Emily mentioned to me the names of several of those with whomshe had exchanged visits; and I knew at once, through Lucy's and Grace'sconversation, and from my own general knowledge of the traditions of thecolony and state, that they were among the leading people of the land,socially if not politically; a class altogether above any with whomI had myself ever associated. Now, I knew that the master of amerchantman, whatever might be his standing with his owner, orconsignee, or the credit he had gained among his fellows, was not likelyto get admission into this set; and there was the comfortable prospectbefore me, of having my own sister and the two other girls I admiredmost and loved best in the world--next to Grace, of course--visitinground in houses, of which the doors were shut against myself. This isalways unpleasant, but in my case it turned out to be more.

  When I told Emily that Grace and Lucy were in town, and intended comingto see her that very morning, I thought she manifested less curiositythan would have been the case a month before.

  "Is Miss Hardinge a relative of Mr. Rupert Hardinge, the gentlemanto whom I was introduced at dinner, yesterday," she demanded, afterexpressing the pleasure it would give her to see the ladies.

  I knew that Rupert had dined out the day before, and, there being no oneelse of the same name, I answered in the affirmative.

  "He is the son of a respectable clergyman, and of very good connections,I hear."

  "The Hardinges are so considered among us; both Rupert's father andgrandfather were clergymen, and his great-grandfather was a seaman--Itrust _you_ will think none the worse of him, for that."

  "A sailor! I had supposed, from what some of those present said--thatis, I did not know it."

  "Perhaps they told you that his great-grandfather was a _Britishofficer?_"

  Emily coloured, and then she laughed faintly; admitting, however, that Ihad guessed right.

  "Well, all this was true," I added, "though he was a sailor. Old CaptainHardinge--or Commodore Hardinge, as he used to be called, for he oncecommanded a squadron--was in the English navy."

  "Oh! that sort of a sailor!"--cried Emily, quickly--"I did not know thatit was usual to call gentlemen in the navy, seamen."

  "They would make a poor figure if they were not, Miss Merton--you mightas well say that a judge is no lawyer."

  This was enough, however, to satisfy me that Miss Merton no longerconsidered the master of the Crisis the first man in the world.

  A ring announced the arrival of the two girls. They were shown up, andI soon had the satisfaction of seeing these three charming young womentogether. Emily received her two guests very courteously, and wasfrank--nay warm--in the expression of her gratitude for all that I haddone for herself and her father. She even went back so far as to speakof the occurrence in the Park, at London, and was gracious enough todeclare that she and her parents owed their lives to my interference.All this gave her listeners great pleasure, for I believe neither evertired of hearing my praises. After this opening, the conversation turnedon New York, its gaieties, and the different persons known to themmutually. I saw that the two girls were struck with the set Miss Mertonwas in, which was a shade superior even to that of Mrs. Bradfort's,though the fusion which usually accompanies that sort of thing, broughtportions of each circle within the knowledge of the other. As thepersons named were utter strangers to me, I had nothing to say, andsat listening in silence. The opportunity was improved by comparing thegirls with each other.

  In delicacy of appearance, Grace and Lucy each had the advantage of theEnglish beauty. Their hands and feet were smaller, their waists finer,and their _tournures_, generally, I thought the most pleasing. Emilyhad the advantage in complexion, though her colour had less fineness anddelicacy. Perhaps her teeth were the most brilliant; though Grace andLucy, particularly the latter, had very fine teeth. The English girl'sshoulders and bust, generally, would have been more admired than thoseof most American--particularly than most New York--girls; but it was notpossible to surpass those of Lucy. As a whole, Emily's countenancehad the most spirit, Lucy's the most finesse and feeling. I makeno comparison with the expression of Grace's countenance, which wasaltogether too remarkable for its intellectual character, to be includedin anything like a national classification. I remember I thought, asthey sat there in a row conversing frankly and cheerfully together, Lucythe handsomest, in her pretty neat morning-dress; while I had my doubtswhether Emily would not have extorted the most applause in a ball-room.This distinction is mentioned, because I believe it national.

  The visit lasted an hour; for I had expressed a wish to all parties thatthey would become acquainted, and the girls seemed mutually pleased. Asthey chatted, I listened to the tones of their voices, and fancied,on the whole, that Emily had slightly the advantage in intonation andaccent; though it was scarcely perceptible, and it was an advantage thatwas attended by a slight sacrifice of the charm of natural utterance.She was a little more artificial in this respect than her companions,and insomuch less pleasing though, had the comparison been made with theManhattan _style_ of the present day, the odds would have been immenselyin her favour. In 1802, however, some attention was still paid to theutterance, tones of voice, and manner of speaking of young ladies. Thewant of it all, just now, is the besetting vice of the whole ofour later instruction of the sex; it being almost as rare a thingnow-a-days, to find a young American girl who speaks her own languagegracefully, as it is to find one who is not of pleasing person.

  When the young ladies parted, it was with an understanding that theywere soon to meet again. I shook hands with Emily, English fashion, andtook my leave at the same time.

  "Well, Miles," said Grace, as soon as we were in the street, "you havecertainly been of service to a very charming young woman--I like her,excessively."

  "And you, Lucy--I hope you agree with Grace, in thinking my friend,Emily Merton, a charming young woman."

  Lucy did not speak as frankly, or as decidedly as Grace, so far asmanner was concerned; though she coincided in words.

  "I am of the same opinion," she said, in a tone that was far lesscheerful than her usually very cheerful manner. "She is one of theloveliest creatures I ever saw--and it is no wonder--"

  "What is no wonder, dear?" asked Grace, observing that her friendhesitated to proceed.

  "Oh! I was about to say something silly, and had better not finish thespeech. But, what a finished manner Miss Merton possesses;--do you notthink so, Grace?"

  "I wish she had a little less of it, dear; that is precisely what Ishould find fault with in her deportment. It _is_ manner; and, though weall must have some, it strikes me it ought not to be seen. I think allthe Europeans we saw in town, last winter, Lucy, had more or less ofthis manner."

  "I dare say it would seem so to _us_; notwithstanding, it may be veryagreeable to those who are used to it--a thing to miss, when one getsmuch accustomed to it."

  As Lucy made this remark, I detected a furtive and timid glance atmyself. I was mystified at the time, and was actually so silly as tothink the dear girl was talking at me, and to feel a little resentment.I fan
cied she wished to say, "There, Master Miles, you have been inLondon, and on a desert island in the South Seas--the very extremesof human habits--and have got to be so sophisticated, so veryun-Clawbonnyish, as to feel the necessity of a _manner_, in the youngladies with whom you associate." The notion nettled me to a degree thatinduced me to pretend duty, and to hurry down to the ship. Whom shouldI meet, in Rector Street, but Mr. Hardinge, who had been across to theHudson in search of me.

  "Come hither, Miles," said the excellent old man, "I wish to conversewith you seriously."

  As Lucy was uppermost in my thoughts at the moment, I said tomyself--"What can the dear old gentleman have to say, now?"

  "I hear from all quarters the best accounts of you, my dear boy," Mr.Hardinge continued, "and I am told you make a very superior seaman.It is a feather in your cap, indeed, to have commanded an Indiaman atwelve-month before you are of age. I have been conversing with my oldfriend John Murray, of the house of John Murray and Sons, one of thevery best merchants in America, and he says 'push the boy ahead, whenyou find the right stuff in him. Get him a ship of his own, and thatwill put him on the true track. Teach him early to have an eye to hisown interests, and it will make a man of him, at once.' I have thoughtthe matter over, have had a vessel in my eye, for the last month, andwill purchase her at once, if you like the plan."

  "But, have I money enough for such a thing, my dear sir--after havingsailed in the John, and the Tigris, and the Crisis, I should not like totake up with any of your B's, No. 2."

  "You have forgotten to mention the 'Pretty Poll,' Miles," said thedivine, smiling. "Be under no fear, however, for your dignity; thevessel I have in treaty, is all you could wish, they tell me, havingmade but one voyage, and is sold on account of the death of her owner.As for money, you will remember I have thirteen thousand dollars of yourincome invested in stocks, and stocks that cost but ten. The peace hasbrought everything up, and you are making money, right and left. Howhave your own pay and private venture turned out?"

  "Perfectly well, sir. I am near three thousand dollars in pocket, andshall have no need to call on you, for my personal wants. Then I havemy prize-money to touch. Even Neb, wages and prize-money, brings me ninehundred dollars. With your permission, sir, I should like to give thefellow his freedom."

  "Wait till you are of age, Miles, and then you can do as you please. Ihold four thousand dollars of your invested money, which has been paidin, and I have placed it in stocks. Altogether, I find we can muster,in solid cash, more than twenty thousand dollars, while the price of theship, as she stands, almost ready for sea, is only fifteen. Now, go andlook at the vessel; if you like her, I will close the bargain at once."

  "But, my dear Mr. Hardinge, do you think yourself exactly qualified tojudge of the value of a ship?"

  "Poh! poh! don't imagine I am so conceited as to purchase on my ownknowledge. I have taken some of the very best advice of the city.There is John Murray, to begin with--a great ship-holder, himself--andArchibald Gracie, and William Bayard--all capital judges, have taken aninterest in the affair. Three others of my friends have walked round tolook at the vessel, and all approve--not a dissenting voice."

  "May I ask, sir, who have seen her, besides the gentlemen you havenamed? they, I admit, are, indeed, good judges."

  "Why?--why--yes--do you happen to know anything of Dr. Benjamin Moore,now, Miles?"

  "Never heard of him, sir, in my life; but a physician can be no greatjudge of a ship."

  "No more of a physician than yourself, boy--Dr. Benjamin Moore, thegentleman we elected Bishop, while you were absent--"

  "Oh! he you wished to toast, instead of Miss Peggy Perott--" cried I,smiling. "Well, what does the Bishop think of her--if he approve, she_must_ be orthodox."

  "He says she is the handsomest vessel he ever laid eyes on, Miles; andlet me tell you, the favourable opinion of so good a man as Dr. Moore,is of value, even though it be about a ship."

  I could not avoid laughing, and I dare say most of the readers willalso, at this touch of simplicity; and yet, why should not a Bishop knowas much of ships, as a set of ignoramuses who never read a theologicalbook in their lives, some of them not even the Bible, should know aboutBishops? The circumstance was not a tittle more absurd than many thatare occurring daily before our eyes, and to which, purely from habit, wesubmit, very much as a matter of course.

  "Well, sir," I replied, as soon as I could, "I will look at the ship,get her character, and give you an answer at once. I like the idea, forit is pleasant to be one's own master."

  In that day, $15,000 would buy a very excellent ship, as ships went.The vessel I was taken to see, was coppered and copper-fastened,butt-bolted, and she measured just five hundred tons. She had a greatreputation as a sailer, and what was thought a good deal of in 1802,was Philadelphia built. She had been one voyage to China, and was littlemore than a year old, or the best possible age for a vessel. Her namewas the "Dawn," and she carried an "Aurora" for her figure-head. Whethershe were, or were not inclined to Puseyism, I never could ascertain,although I can affirm she had the services of the Protestant EpiscopalCatholic Church read on board her afterwards, on more than one occasion.

  The result of my examination and inquiries was favourable, and, by theend of the week, the Dawn was purchased. The owners of the Crisis werepleased to express their regrets, for they had intended that I shouldcontinue in the command of their vessel, but no one could object toa man's wishing to sail in his own employment. I made this importantacquisition, at what was probably the most auspicious moment of Americannavigation. It is a proof of this, that, the very day I was put inpossession of the ship, good freights were offered to no less than fourdifferent parts of the world. I had my choice between Holland, France,England, and China. After consulting with my guardian, I accepted thatto France, which not only paid the best, but I was desirous of seeingmore of the world than had yet fallen to my share. I could make a voyageto Bordeaux and back in five months, and by the end of that time Ishould be of age, and consequently my own master. As I intended to havegreat doings at Clawbonny on that occasion, I thought it might be wellnot to go too far from home. Accordingly, after shipping Talcott and thePhiladelphian, whose name was Walton, for my mates, we began to take incargo, as soon as possible.

  In the meantime, I bethought me of a visit to the paternal home. It wasa season of the year, when most people, who were anybodies, left town,and the villas along the shores of the Hudson had long been occupied.Mr. Hardinge, too, pined for the country and his flock. The girls hadhad enough of town, which was getting to be very dull, and everybody,Rupert excepted, seemed anxious to go up the river. I had invited theMertons to pass part of the summer at the farm, moreover, and it wastime the invitation should be renewed, for the Major's physicians hadadvised him to choose some cooler residence than the streets of a hotclose town could furnish, during the summer months. Emily had beenso much engrossed with the set into which she had fallen, since herlanding, and which it was easy for me to see was altogether superiorto that in which she had lived at home, that I was surprised at thereadiness with which she urged her father to redeem his promise.

  "Mr. Hardinge tells me, sir, that Clawbonny is really a pretty spot,"she said, "and the country around it is thought to be very healthy. Youcannot get answers from home (she meant England) for several months, andI know Captain Wallingford will be happy to receive us. Besides, we arepledged to accept this additional favour from him."

  I thought Major Merton felt some of my own surprise at Emily'searnestness and manner, but his resistance was very feeble. The oldgentleman's health, indeed, was pretty thoroughly undermined, and Ibegan to have serious doubts of his living even to return to Europe. Hehad some relatives in Boston, and had opened a correspondence with them,and I had thought, more than once, of the expediency of apprising themof his situation. At present however nothing better could be done thanto get him into the country.

  Having made all the arrangements with the others, I went to persuadeRupert to be of
the party, for I thought it would make both Grace andLucy so much the happier.

  "Miles, my dear fellow," said the young student, gaping, "Clawbonny iscertainly a capitalish place, but, you will admit it is somewhat stupidafter New York. My good kinswoman, Mrs. Bradfort, has taken such a fancyto us all, and has made me so comfortable--would you believe it, boy,she has actually given me six hundred a year, for the last two years,besides making Lucy presents fit for a queen. A sterling woman is she,this cousin Margaret of ours!"

  I heard this, truly, not without surprise; for, in settling with myowners, I found Rupert had drawn every cent to which he was entitled,under the orders I had left when I last went to sea.

  As Mrs. Bradfort was more than at her ease, however, had no nearerrelative than Mr. Hardinge, and was much attached to the family, I hadno difficulty in believing it true, so far as the lady's liberality wasconcerned. I heartily wished Rupert had possessed more self-respect; buthe was, as he was!

  "I am sorry you cannot go with us," I answered, "for I counted on you tohelp amuse the Mertons--"

  "The Mertons!--Why, surely, they are not going to pass the summer atClawbonny!"

  "They quit town with us, to-morrow. Why should not the Mertons pass thesummer at Clawbonny?"

  "Why, Miles, my dear boy, you know how it is with the world--how it iswith these English, in particular. They think everything of rank, youknow, and are devotees of style and appearance, and all that sort ofthing, you know, as no one understands better than myself; for I passmost of my time in the English set, you know."

  I did not _then_ understand what had come over Rupert, though it is allplain enough to me, _now_. He had, truly enough, got into what was thencalled the English set. Now, there is no question, that, so far as thenatives, themselves, were concerned, this was as good a set as everexisted in his country; and, it is also beyond all cavil, that manyrespectable English persons, of both sexes, were occasionally found init; but, it had this great defect:--_every_ Englishman who wore agood coat, and had any of the slang of society, made his way into theoutskirts, at least, of this set; and Rupert, whose own position was notyet thoroughly confirmed, had fallen a great deal into the associationof these accidental comers and goers. They talked large, drank deep, andhad a lofty disdain for everything in the country, though it was verycertain they were just then in much better company where they were,than they had ever been at home. Like most tyroes, Rupert fancied theseblustering gentry persons to imitate; and, as they seldom conversedten minutes without having something to say of my Lord A----or Sir JohnB----, persons they had _read_ of, or seen in the streets, he was weakenough to imagine they knew all about the dignitaries of the BritishEmpire. As Rupert was really a gentleman, and had good mannersnaturally, it was a grievous thing to see him fashioning himself anew,as it might be, on such very questionable models,

  "Clawbonny is not a stylish place, I am ready to allow," I answered,after a moment of hesitation; "still it is respectable. There is a goodfarm, a valuable mill, and a good, old, comfortable, straggling, stonehouse."

  "Very true, Miles, my dear fellow, and all as dear to me, you know, asthe apple of my eye--but _farmish_--young ladies like the goodthings that comes from farms, but do not admire the homeliness of theresidence. I speak of young English ladies, in particular. Now, yousee, Major Merton is a field-officer, and that is having good rank in arespectable profession, you know--I suppose you understand, Miles, thatthe king puts most of his sons into the army, or navy--all this makes adifference, you understand?"

  "I understand nothing about it; what is it to me where the king ofEngland puts his sons?"

  "I wish, my dear Miles, if the truth must be said, that you and I hadbeen a little less boyish, when we were boys, than happened to be thecase. It would have been all the better for us both."

  "Well, I wish no such thing. A boy should be a boy, and a man a man. Iam content to have been a boy, while I was a boy. It is a fault in thiscountry, that boys fancy themselves men too soon."

  "Ah! my dear fellow, you _will_ not, or _do_ not understand me. What Imean is, that we were both precipitate in the choice of a profession--Iretired in time, but you persevere; that is all."

  "You did retire in season, my lad, if truth is what you are after; for,had you staid a hundred years on board ship, you never would have made asailor."

  When I said this, I fancied I had uttered a pretty severe thing. Ruperttook it so coolly, however, as to satisfy me at once, that he thoughtdifferently on the subject.

  "Clearly, it is not my vocation. Nature intended me for somethingbetter, I trust, and I mistook a boyish inclination for a taste. Alittle experience taught me better, and I am now where I feel I ought tobe. I wish, Miles, you had come to the study of the law, at the time youwent to sea. You would have been, by this time, at the bar, and wouldhave had a definite position in society."

  "I am very glad I did not. What the deuce should I have done as alawyer--or what advantage would it have been to me, to be admitted tothe bar?"

  "Advantage!--Why, my dear fellow, every advantage in the world. You knowhow it is, in this country, I suppose, in the way of society, my dearMiles?"

  "Not I--and, by the little I glean from the manner you sheer about inyour discourse, I wish to know nothing. Do young men study law merely tobe genteel?"

  "Do not despise knowledge, my boy; it is of use, even in trifles. Now,in this country, you know, we have very few men of mere leisure--heirsof estates, to live on their incomes, as is done in Europe; but,nine-tenths of us must follow professions, of which there are onlyhalf-a-dozen suitable for a gentleman. The army and navy are nothing,you know; two or three regiments scattered about in the woods, andhalf-a-dozen vessels. After these, there remain the three learnedprofessions, divinity, law and physic. In our family, divinity has runout, I fear. As for physic, 'throw physic to the dogs,' as Miss Mertonsays--"

  "Who?" I exclaimed, in surprise. "'Throw physic to the dogs'--why thatis Shakspeare, man!"

  "I know it, and it is Miss Emily Merlon's, too. You have made usacquainted with a charming creature, at least, Miles, by this going tosea. Her notions on such subjects are as accurate as a sun-dial."

  "And, has Miss Emily Merton ever conversed with you, on the subject of_my_ profession, Rupert?"

  "Indeed, she has; and regretted it, again and again. You know as wellas I do, Miles, to be a sailor, other than in a navy, is not a _genteel_profession!"

  I broke out into a fit of laughter, at this remark. It struck me asinfinitely droll, and as somewhat silly. I knew my precise positionin society, perfectly; had none of the silly swaggering about personalmerit, and of "one man's being as good as another," that has since gotinto such general use among us; and understood perfectly the usefuland unavoidable classifications that take place in all civilizedcommunities, and which, while they are attended by certain disadvantagesas exceptions, produce great benefits as a whole, and was not disposedat all to exaggerate my claims, or to deny my deficiencies. But, theidea of attaching any considerations of _gentility_ to my noble, manly,daring profession, sounded so absurd, I could not avoid laughing. In afew moments, however, I became grave.

  "Harkee, Rupert," said I: "I trust Miss Merton does not think Iendeavoured to mislead her as to my true position, or to make her thinkI was a greater personage than I truly am?"

  "I'll not answer for that. When we were first acquainted, I found shehad certain notions about Clawbonny, and your _estate_, and all that,which were rather English, you know. Now, in England an _estate_ gives aman a certain consideration, whereas land is so plenty with us, that wethink nothing of the man who happens to own a little of it. _Stock_,in America, as it is so much nearer ready-money, is a better thing thanland, you know."

  How true was this, even ten years since; how false is it to-day!The proprietor of tens of thousands of acres, was, indeed, under thepaper-money _regime_, a less important man than the owner of a handfulof scrip, which has had all its value squeezed out of it, little bylittle. That was truly th
e age when the representative of property wasof far more importance than the property itself; and all because thecountry existed in a fever, that set everything in motion. We shall seejust such times, again, I fear.

  "But what had Emily Merton to do with all this?"

  "Miss Merton? Oh! she is English, you know, and felt as English personsalways do, at the sound of acres. I set it all right, however, and youneed be under no concern."

  "The devil you did! And, pray, in what manner was this done? _How_ wasthe matter set right?"

  Rupert took the segar from his mouth, suffered the smoke to issue, bya small, deliberate jet, cocking his nose up at the same time as ifobserving the stars, and then deigned to give me an answer. Your smokershave such a disdainful, ultra-philosophical manner, sometimes!

  "Why, just in this way, my fine fellow. I told her Clawbonny was a_farm_, and not an _estate_, you know; that did a good deal, of itself.Then, I entered into an explanation of the consideration of farmersin this country, you know, and made it all as plain as A B C. She is aquick girl, is Emily, and takes a thing remarkably soon."

  "Did Miss Merton say anything to induce you to suppose she thought theless of me, for these explanations."

  "Of course not--she values you, amazingly--quite worships you, _as asailor_--thinks you a sort of merchant-captain Nelson, or Blake, orTruxtun, and all that sort of thing. All young ladies, however, areexceedingly particular about professions, I suppose you know, Miles, aswell as I do myself."

  "What, Lucy, Rupert?--Do you imagine Lucy cares a straw about my notbeing a lawyer, for instance?"

  "Do I?--out of all question. Don't you remember how the girlswept--Grace as well as Lucy--when we went to sea, boy. It was all onaccount of the _un_gentility of the profession, if a fellow can use sucha word."

  I did not believe this, for I knew Grace better, to say the least; andthought I understood Lucy sufficiently, at that time, to know she weptbecause she was sorry to see me go away. Still, Lucy had grown from avery young girl, since I sailed in the Crisis, into a young woman, andmight view things differently, now, from what she had done three yearsbefore. I had not time, however, for further discussion at that moment,and I cut the matter short.

  "Well, Rupert, what am I to expect?" I asked; "Clawbonny, or noClawbonny?"

  "Why, now you say the Mertons are to be of the party I suppose I shallhave to go; it would be inhospitable else. I do wish, Miles, you wouldmanage to establish visiting relations with some of the families on theother side of the river. There are plenty of respectable people within afew hours' sail of Clawbonny."

  "My father, and my grandfather, and my great-grand-father, managed, asyou call it, to get along, for the last hundred years, well enough onthe west side; and, although we are not quite as genteel as the _east_,we will do well enough. The Wallingford sails early in the morning, tosave the tide; and I hope your lordship will turn out in season, and notkeep us waiting. If you do, I shall be _ungenteel_ enough to leave youbehind."

  I left Rupert with a feeling in which disgust and anger were blended.I wish to be understood, more particularly as I know I am writing for astiff-necked generation. I never was guilty of the weakness of decryinga thing because I did not happen to possess it myself. I knew my ownplace in the social scale perfectly; nor was I, as I have just said, inthe least inclined to fancy that one man was as good as another. I knewvery well that this was not true, either in nature or in the socialrelations; in political axioms, any more than in political truths. Atthe same time, I did not believe nature had created men unequal, in theorder of primogeniture from male to male. Keeping in view all the facts,I was perfectly disposed to admit that habits, education, association,and sometimes chance and caprice, drew distinctions that produced greatbenefits, as a whole; in some small degree qualified, perhaps, by casesof individual injustice. This last exception, however, being applicableto all things human, it had no influence on my opinions, which weresound and healthful on all these points; practical, common-sense-like,and in conformity with the decisions of the world from the time of Mosesdown to our own, or, I dare say, of Adam himself, if the truth could beknown; and, as I have said more than once in these rambling memoir's,I was not disposed to take a false view of my own social position. Ibelonged, at most, to the class of small proprietors, as they existed inthe last century, and filled a very useful and respectable niche betweenthe yeoman and gentleman, considering the last strictly in reference tothe upper class of that day. Now, it struck me that Emily Merton, withher English notions, might very well draw the distinctions Rupert hadmentioned; nor am I conscious of having cared much about it, though shedid. If I were a less important person on _terra firma_, with all theusages and notions of ordinary society producing their influence, than Ihad been when in command of the Crisis, in the centre of the Pacific, sowas Miss Merton a less important young lady, in the midst of the beautyof New York, than she had been in the isolation of Marble Land. This Icould feel very distinctly. But Lucy's supposed defection did more thanannoy me. I felt humbled, mortified, grieved. I had always known thatLucy was better connected than I was myself, and I had ever given Rupertand her the benefit of this advantage, as some offset to my own andGrace's larger means; but it had never struck me that either the brotheror sister would be disposed to look down upon us in consequence. Theworld is everywhere--and America, on account of its social vicissitudes,more than most other countries--constantly exhibiting pictures of thestruggles between fallen consequence and rising wealth. The last may,and does have the best of it, in the mere physical part of the strife;but in the more moral, if such a word can be used, the quiet ascendencyof better manners and ancient recollections is very apt to overshadowthe fussy pretensions of the vulgar aspirant, who places his claimsaltogether on the all-mighty dollar. It is vain to deny it; men everhave done it, and probably ever will defer to the past, in matters ofthis sort--it being much with us, in this particular, as it is with ourown lives, which have had all their greatest enjoyments in bygonedays. I knew all this--felt all this--and was greatly afraid that Lucy,through Mrs. Bradfort's influence, and her town associations, might havelearned to regard me as Captain Wallingford, of the merchant-service,and the son of another Captain Wallingford of the same line in life. Idetermined, therefore, to watch her with jealous attention, during thefew days I was to remain at Clawbonny. With such generous intentions,the reader is not to be surprised if I found some of that for which I soearnestly sought--people being very apt to find precisely the thing forwhich they look, when it is not lost money.

  The next morning we were all punctual, and sailed at the proper hour.The Mertons seemed pleased with the river, and, having a fresh southerlywind in our favour, with a strong flood-tide, we actually landed atthe mill the same afternoon. Everything is apt to be agreeable when thetraveller gets on famously; and I thought I never saw Emily in betterspirits than she was when we first reached the top of the ascent thatlies above the landing. I had given her my arm, as due to hospitality,while the others got up as they could; for I observed that Rupertassisted no one. As for Lucy, I was still too much vexed with her, andhad been so all day, to be as civil as I ought. We were soon at a pointthat commanded a view of the house, meadows, orchards and fields.

  "This, then, is Clawbonny!" exclaimed Emily, as soon as I pointedout the place to her. "Upon my word, a very pretty farm, CaptainWallingford. Even prettier than you represented it to be, Mr. RupertHardinge."

  "Oh! I always do justice to everything of Wallingford's, you know. Wewere children together, and became so much attached in early life, thatit's no wonder we remain so in these our later days."

  Rupert was probably nearer the truth than he imagined, when he made thisspeech; my regard for him, by this time, being pretty much reducedto habit; and certainly it had no increase from any fresh supplies ofrespect. I began to hope he might not marry Grace, though I had formerlylooked forward to the connection as a settled thing. "Let him get MissMerton, if he can," I said to myself: "it will be no great acquisition,I f
ancy, to either side."

  How different was it with his father, and, I may add, with Lucy! The oldgentleman turned to me, with tears in his eyes; pointed to the dear oldhouse, with a look of delight; and then took my arm, without referenceto the wants of Miss Merton, and led me on, conversing earnestly of myaffairs, and of his own stewardship. Lucy had her father's arm, on theother side; and the good divine was too much accustomed to her, to mindthe presence of his daughter. Away we three went, therefore, leading theway, while Rupert took charge of Emily and Grace. Major Merton followed,leaning on his own man.

  "It is a lovely--it is a lovely spot, Miles," said Mr. Hardinge; "andI do most sincerely hope you will never think of tearing down thatrespectable-looking, comfortable, substantial, good old-fashioned house,to build a new one."

  "Why should I, dear sir? The house, with an occasional addition, allbuilt in the same style, has served us a century, and may very wellserve another. Why should I wish for more, or a better house?"

  "Why, sure enough? But, now you are a sort of a merchant, you may growrich, and wish to be the proprietor of a _seat_."

  The time had been, when such thoughts often crossed my mind; but Icared less for them, then. To own a _seat_, was the great object ofmy ambition in boyhood; but the thought had weakened by time andreflection.

  "What does Lucy think of the matter? Do I want, or indeed deserve, abetter house?"

  "I shall not answer either question," replied the dear girl, a littlesaucily, I thought. "I do not understand your wants, and do not chooseto speak of your deservings. But I fancy the question will be settledby a certain Mrs. Wallingford, one of these days. Clever women generallydetermine these things for their husbands."

  I endeavoured to catch Lucy's eye, when this was said, by leaning alittle forward myself; but the girl turned her head in such a manner asprevented my seeing her face. The remark was not lost on Mr. Hardinge,however, who took it up with warmth, and all the interest of a most pureand disinterested affection.

  "I suppose you _will_ think of marrying one of these days, Miles," hesaid; "but, on no account, marry a woman who will desert Clawbonny, orwho would wish materially to alter it. No good-hearted woman, indeed--no_true_-hearted woman--would ever dream of either. Dear me! dear me! thehappy days and the sorrowful days--the gracious mercies of Providence,and the chastening afflictions--that I myself have seen, and felt, andwitnessed, under these same roofs!"

  This was followed by a sort of enumeration of the events of the lastforty years, including passages in the lives of all who had dwelt at thefarm; the whole concluding with the divine's solemnly repeating--"No,no! Miles; do not think, even, of marrying a woman who would wish you todesert, or materially alter, Clawbonny."