This is no fancy sketch, but a dread reality. It has filled our cup with sorrow; it is mingled with every tear that falls upon the dying patriot's couch; it is wafted with every agonizing sigh that follows the departed spirit; it is felt in every house of mourning, and is seared, in letters of fire and blood, upon the memory of every American.
But England now says that Slavery was not the cause of the war. Yet it was so avowed in every secession ordinance, and in the confederate constitution. None but a slave State revolted; none but a slave State can be admitted into the rebel confederacy; and slavery is extended by their constitution over all existing or after-acquired territory. If England should ever form a part of slavedom, slavery would be extended there, and slaves could be bought and sold in London. Other revolts have been against tyranny, but this is a rebellion of slavery against freedom, of the few against the many, of the bayonet against the ballot, of capital invested in man as a chattel, against free labor and free men. The tariff was scarcely referred to in the contest at the South. The tariff then existing was a free-trade measure, prepared by the leaders of this rebellion, and passed in 1856, by the aid of their votes. That tariff was twenty per cent lower than the revenue act of 1846. The tariff of 1846 was proposed in the Treasury Report of December, 1845, which report was quoted by Sir Robert Peel in his speech of January, 1846, and made the basis of his motion to repeal the corn laws. But the free-trade bill of 1856 (duties on exports being prohibited) wasthe law of the landwhen the Cotton States seceded in December, 1860, and January and February, 1861, and inaugurated the rebel government. It was not untilafterall this, that this measure was repealed, in March, 1861. This repeal could never have occurred but for the prior withdrawal of the Cotton States from Congress. The great agricultural and exporting North-west was opposed to high tariffs; so also was New-York, the great mart of foreign commerce. The South has always been greatly divided on this question, and, since the act of 1846, the aggregate popular vote of the North has always been nearly double that of the South against high tariffs. The author of the tariff of 1846, is now, as always heretofore, devoting all his energies to the support of the Union. So is the distinguished Republican Senator from Pennsylvania, the author of the celebrated anti-slavery Wilmot Proviso, who, with many other Republican Senators and members supported the tariff of 1846. So is the eminent ex-Vice-President, (who gave the celebrated casting vote for the tariff of 1846,) supporting the Union. But it is enough that a majority of Mr. Lincoln's Cabinet supported the tariff of 1846. No, the tariff had nothing to do with the rebellion. It was slavery alone that produced the revolt. There are, however, thousands who favored the act of 1846, and even of 1856, desiring enlarged trade betweenfriendlynations, who regard England now, as the enemy of our Union, the champion of secession, and the friend of this infernal pro-slavery rebellion.
I have stated that the South must know what course we intend to pursue in regard to slavery. But not only the South, but our friends and enemies, andall the worldmust also know, that theAmerican Union shall never be dismembered. It is the great citadel of self-government, intrusted to our charge by Providence, and we will defend it against all assailants until our last man has fallen. The lakes can never be separated from the Gulf, nor the Eastern from the Western Ocean. As the sun high advanced in the heavens illumes our flag on the Atlantic, its first morning beams shall salute our kindred banner-stars on the shores of the Pacific, the present western limit of this great republic. Already the telegraphic lightning flashes intelligence from ocean to ocean, and soon the iron horse, starting from the Atlantic on his continental tour, shall announce his own advent on the shores of the Pacific, The lakes of the North are united by railroads and canals with the Atlantic, the Gulf, the Ohio, and Mississippi, and our iron gunboats, bearing aloft in war and in peace the emblems of our country's glory, are soon to perform their great circuit from the Albemarle, the Potomac, the Chesapeake, the Susquehanna, the Delaware, and the Hudson, to the Lakes and the Mississippi. Above all, the valley of the Mississippi was ordained by God as the residence of a united people. Over every acre of its soil must forever float the banner of the Union, and all its waters, as they roll on together to the Gulf, proclaim that what 'God has joined together, man shall never put asunder.' The nation's life-blood courses this vast arterial system, and to sever it is death. No line of latitude or longitude shall ever separate the mouth from the centre or sources ofthe Mississippi. All the waters of the imperial river, from their mountain springs and crystal fountains, shall ever flow in commingling currents to the Gulf, uniting evermore in one undivided whole, the blessed homes of a free and happy people. The Ohio and Missouri, the Red River and the Arkansas, shall never be dissevered from the Mississippi. Pittsburgh and Louisville, Cincinnati and St. Louis, shall never be separated from New-Orleans, or mark the capitals of disunited and discordant States. That glorious free-trade between all the States (the great cause of our marvelous progress) shall in time, notwithstanding the present suicidal folly of England, go on in its circuit among accordant peoples throughout the globe, the precursor of that era of universal and unrestricted commerce, whose sceptre is peace, and whose reign the fusion and fraternity of nations, as foretold by the holy prophets in the Scriptures of truth.
This great valley, one mighty plain, without an intervening mountain, contains, west of the Mississippi, seven States and Territories of an area sufficient for thirteen more of the size of New-York. East of the Mississippi, it embraces all the remaining States except New-England, New-Jersey, Delaware, South-Carolina, and Florida. New-York is connected with the great valley by the Alleghany River; and Maryland by the Castleman's River and the Youghiogany, and Alabama, North-Carolina, and Georgia, by the Tennessee and its tributaries. Nearly one half the area of Pennsylvania and Virginia is within its limits. Michigan is united with it by the Wisconsin River, and Texas by the Red River; whilst Ohio, Indiana, and Kentucky, Wisconsin, Illinois, Tennessee, and Mississippi, Minnesota, Iowa, Missouri, Kansas, Louisiana, and Arkansas own almost exclusively its sway.
And who will dare erect the feeble barriers designed to seclude the great valley and its products from either ocean, the Lakes, or the Gulf, or persuade her to hold these essential rights and interests by the wretched tenure of the will of any seceding State? No line but one of blood, of military despotisms, and perpetual war, can ever separate this great valley. The idea is sacrilege. It is the raving of a maniac. Separation is death. Disunion is suicide. If the South presents the issue that the Union or slavery must perish, the result is not doubtful. Slavery will die. It will meet a traitor's doom, wherever it selects a traitor's position. The Union will still live. It is written on the scroll of destiny, by the finger of God, that 'neither principalities nor powers' shall effect its overthrow, nor shall 'the gates of hell prevail against it.'
Nor will we ever surrender the grave of Washington. There, upon the Potomac, on whose banks he was born and died, the flag of the Union must float over his sacred sepulchre, until the dead shall be summoned from their graves by the trump of the resurrection.
The Fourth of July, 1776, when our name was first inscribed upon the roll of nations, shall be forever commemorated under one flag, and as the birthday of one undivided Union. The memorable declaration of American Independence, the Articles of Confederation, the Constitution of the United States, all subscribed upon that consecrated ground at Independence Hall, Philadelphia, shall ever mark the noble commonwealth of Pennsylvania as the keystone of the arch of a perpetual and unbroken Union.
Nor shall any but the same banner be unfolded over the graves of the patriots and statesmen of the Revolution, or the battle-fields of the mighty conflict.
And around the graves of Washington and Jackson, and in memory of their solemn farewell appeals in favor of the Union, how could Virginia or Tennessee ever have been disloyal? No, they were not disloyal, but were torn, by rebel fraud and violence, from that banner round which they will again rejoice to rally.
We must not despair of the Republic. All is not lost. The Union yet lives. Its restoration approaches. The calmwill soon follow the storm. The golden sunlight and the silver edging of the azure clouds will be seen again in the horizon. The bow of promise will appear in the heavens, to mark the retiring of the bitter waters, proclaiming from on high, that now, henceforth, and forever, no second secession deluge shall ever disturb the onward, united, and peaceful march of the Republic.
As loftier rise the ocean's heaving crests,Ere they sink, tempest-driven, on the strand;So do these hearts and freedom-beating breasts,Sublimed by suffering, fall upon our land.Wounded! O sweet-lipped word! for on the pageOf this strange history, all these scars shall beThe hieroglyphics of a valiant age,Deep writ in freedom's blood-red mystery.What though your fate sharp agony reveals!What though the mark of brother's blows you bear!The breath of your oppression upward steals,Like incense from crushed spices into air.Freedom lies listening, nor as yet avertsThe battle horrors of these months' slow length;But as she listens, silently she girtsMore close, more firm, the armor of her strength.Then deem them not as lost, these bitter days,Nor those which yet in anguish must be spentFar from loved skies and home's peace-moving ways,For these are not the losses you lament.It is the glory that your country bore,Which you would rescue from a living grave;It is the unity that once she wore,Which your true hearts are yearning still to save.Despair not:it is written, though the eye,Red with its watching, can no future scan:The glow of triumph yet shall flush the sky,And God redeem the ruin made by man.
A friend 'down South' has kindly sent us a number of 'De Bow's Review, Industrial Resources, etc.,' as its elegantly worded title-page proclaims. It is true that the number in question is none of the freshest, it having appeared at Charleston, in December last. Yet, as a Southern magazine published during the war, and full of war matter, it is replete with interest.
Its first article on Privateers and Privateersmen, by George Fitzhugh of Virginia—as arrogant, weak, and Sophomorical as Southern would-be 'literary' articles usually are—is written in a vein of reasoning so oddly illogical as to almost induce suspicion as to the sanity of the author. Let the reader take, for instance, the following extracts:
'To show how untenable and absurd are the doctrines of the writers on the laws of war, we will cite the instance of pickets. According to their leading principle that in war 'only such acts of hostility are permissible as weaken the enemy and advance and promote the ends and purposes of the war,' pickets are the very men to be killed, for the death of one of them may effect a surprise and victory, and do more injury to the enemy than the killing of a thousand men in battle. According to their doctrine, it is peculiarly proper and merciful to shoot pickets; yet they propose to interpolate on the laws of war a provision that pickets shall not be shot. This provision is, in accordance with our philosophy, founded on Christian principles and the dictates of healthy humanity, for pickets are not active belligerents, and can oppose no force to the stealthy attacks made on them by unseen enemies. To kill a picket is like fighting an unarmed man, a child or a woman. It is eminently right according to the selfish and silly philosophy of writers on national law, but inhuman, and therefore wrong, according to our philosophy, which is founded on Christian injunctions and natural feelings.'Yet, as a matter of necessity, we would encourage the shooting of pickets. We of the South are accustomed to the use of arms, are individually brave and self-reliant, can creep upon their pickets and shoot them in the night, and thus carry out our defensive policy of exhausting in detail the superior numbers of the invading North. We must be conquered and subjugated unless we take advantage of all our peculiarities of habits, customs, localities, and institutions. We have to make a choice of evils; either shoot pickets, or by neglecting to do so, cut off one of our most available arms of defense. We must fight the 'devil with fire.' Our enemy professes no allegiance to the laws of morality nor to the laws of God. We must deal with them as Moses dealt with the people of Canaan, so long as they invade our territory. But we are not God's chosen people, not his instruments to punish Canaanites, and we will not follow them when they retreat to their barren Northern homes. There a just and avenging God is already punishing them for their crimes. Left to themselves, and our real enemies—those of the North-east—will perish, for they have little means of support at home, and have not learned to avail themselves of those means, trusting that a generous and confiding South would continue to feed and clothe them.'In old countries, where there are few trees, forests, or other hiding-places, and where the country people are unused to firearms, an invaded country gains little by shooting pickets; but in a new, rough country like ours, where pickets can be approached furtively, and where all the country people are first-rate marksmen, there is no better means of harassing and exhausting an invading army than by cutting off its outposts in detail.'It is the obvious interest of the North to make the persons of pickets sacred; and equallyourobvious policy to shoot them down at every opportunity.'
'To show how untenable and absurd are the doctrines of the writers on the laws of war, we will cite the instance of pickets. According to their leading principle that in war 'only such acts of hostility are permissible as weaken the enemy and advance and promote the ends and purposes of the war,' pickets are the very men to be killed, for the death of one of them may effect a surprise and victory, and do more injury to the enemy than the killing of a thousand men in battle. According to their doctrine, it is peculiarly proper and merciful to shoot pickets; yet they propose to interpolate on the laws of war a provision that pickets shall not be shot. This provision is, in accordance with our philosophy, founded on Christian principles and the dictates of healthy humanity, for pickets are not active belligerents, and can oppose no force to the stealthy attacks made on them by unseen enemies. To kill a picket is like fighting an unarmed man, a child or a woman. It is eminently right according to the selfish and silly philosophy of writers on national law, but inhuman, and therefore wrong, according to our philosophy, which is founded on Christian injunctions and natural feelings.
'Yet, as a matter of necessity, we would encourage the shooting of pickets. We of the South are accustomed to the use of arms, are individually brave and self-reliant, can creep upon their pickets and shoot them in the night, and thus carry out our defensive policy of exhausting in detail the superior numbers of the invading North. We must be conquered and subjugated unless we take advantage of all our peculiarities of habits, customs, localities, and institutions. We have to make a choice of evils; either shoot pickets, or by neglecting to do so, cut off one of our most available arms of defense. We must fight the 'devil with fire.' Our enemy professes no allegiance to the laws of morality nor to the laws of God. We must deal with them as Moses dealt with the people of Canaan, so long as they invade our territory. But we are not God's chosen people, not his instruments to punish Canaanites, and we will not follow them when they retreat to their barren Northern homes. There a just and avenging God is already punishing them for their crimes. Left to themselves, and our real enemies—those of the North-east—will perish, for they have little means of support at home, and have not learned to avail themselves of those means, trusting that a generous and confiding South would continue to feed and clothe them.
'In old countries, where there are few trees, forests, or other hiding-places, and where the country people are unused to firearms, an invaded country gains little by shooting pickets; but in a new, rough country like ours, where pickets can be approached furtively, and where all the country people are first-rate marksmen, there is no better means of harassing and exhausting an invading army than by cutting off its outposts in detail.
'It is the obvious interest of the North to make the persons of pickets sacred; and equallyourobvious policy to shoot them down at every opportunity.'
In the midst of these slightly confused arguments on war, the writer suddenly introduces a very out of place eulogy of 'De Bow's Review, Industrial Resources, etc.,' as a periodical 'which occupies a much wider range than any English periodical, and which,as an Encyclopedia, would be more valuable than any other Review, were equal pains and labor bestowed upon its articles.' We suspect this bit to be office-made—it has the heavy, clumsy ring of the great cracked bell of De Bow. For instance:
'I know, Mr. Editor, you intend, so soon as the war is over, to enlarge theReview, without increasing the subscription-price ...and then if Southern patronage ceases to be bestowed chiefly on the flimsy and immoral literature of the North, and Southern pens cease to prostitute themselves for pay by ministering to the vile and sensual literary appetites of the Yankees, then, we say, thisReviewwill rank with the ablest for ability, and far above them for usefulness. But this result can be attained only when we cease to be Yankee-worshipers, and when the semi-traitorous imbeciles of the Virginia Convention and of Kentucky are remembered only to be detested and despised. Already hundreds of scientific and philosophic minds who have thrown off the debasing influence of Yankee authority have contributed learned and valuable articles to your pages.'
'I know, Mr. Editor, you intend, so soon as the war is over, to enlarge theReview, without increasing the subscription-price ...and then if Southern patronage ceases to be bestowed chiefly on the flimsy and immoral literature of the North, and Southern pens cease to prostitute themselves for pay by ministering to the vile and sensual literary appetites of the Yankees, then, we say, thisReviewwill rank with the ablest for ability, and far above them for usefulness. But this result can be attained only when we cease to be Yankee-worshipers, and when the semi-traitorous imbeciles of the Virginia Convention and of Kentucky are remembered only to be detested and despised. Already hundreds of scientific and philosophic minds who have thrown off the debasing influence of Yankee authority have contributed learned and valuable articles to your pages.'
Unfortunately the character of De Bow as a deliberate and accomplished liar, and the exposure of his infamous falsification of statistics, have somewhat sunk the character of his 'Review, Industrial Resources, etc.,' out of Dixie, where, only, due honor is paid to those who are like him
——'for profoundAnd solid lying much renowned.'
'Art. II.' or Article the Second, in this magazine, 'which only needs equal pains and labor' [we might add paper, ink, and a Yankee Grammar and Dictionary] to be made equal to 'any other Review'—treats of 'The Bastile—Tyranny, Past and Present.' All the doleful stories of prisoners of earlier or later ages, in the Bastile, including much sentimental balderdash, are drawled out by a very stupid and would-be effective writer, for the purpose of proving that the imprisonment of political offenders and captives by the North is precisely on a par with that of 'Bastiling' them, and that Abraham Lincoln is only a revival of the worst kings of France in an American form. We of the North have, according to this writer, 'reached the goal of despotism at a single leap. In a few months the government has achievedeternal infamy.' We commend to the reader the following superbly Southern conclusion:
'With all these evils comes the inevitable Bastile. It is an inseparable part of the system. A philosophical Cuvier, from one act or condition of tyranny, will supply the rest of the organism. Wherever despotism exists, we look for the Bastile as naturally as we do for the character of a robber in an Italian story. Like the ponderous step of the statue of the commander in theDon Juanof Molière, its approach is audible above civil commotion, above the shrieks of frenzied orators, the howlings of a demoralized clergy, and the sound of battle. It brings with it the destruction of civil liberty, and darkens all the perspective.'
'With all these evils comes the inevitable Bastile. It is an inseparable part of the system. A philosophical Cuvier, from one act or condition of tyranny, will supply the rest of the organism. Wherever despotism exists, we look for the Bastile as naturally as we do for the character of a robber in an Italian story. Like the ponderous step of the statue of the commander in theDon Juanof Molière, its approach is audible above civil commotion, above the shrieks of frenzied orators, the howlings of a demoralized clergy, and the sound of battle. It brings with it the destruction of civil liberty, and darkens all the perspective.'
To us, to whom the approach of despotism with all its horrors is not quite so apparent as the heavy footfall 'in theDon Juanof Molière,' this all sounds as if Dixie would very much like to have the little privilege of keeping all the prisoners to itself. Nothing is said, by the way, of Southern Bastiles—of tobacco-factories, in which mere boys are allowed to die of wounds in utter solitude, to which officers come for the purpose of spitting upon and kicking the 'Yanks,' and where sentinels in wanton fiendishness were allowed to daily shoot through the windows at those within. No word is spoken of officers thrown into a common dungeon with negroes and thieves, nor is there any allusion to the ingenious system of keeping Northern prisoners as long as possible, so that they may die and thereby diminish the numbers of the enemy, in accordance with the Southern plan of Fitzhugh, already cited, as 'our defensive policy of exhaustingin detailthe superior numbers of the invading North.'
'Article III.' gives us a rehash of the views of Dr. Cartwright on 'The Serpent, the Ape, and the Negro.'
'Article IV.' by E. Delony, of Louisiana, is the great political gun of the magazine, and inquires: 'What of the the Confederacy—the Present and the Future?' It is of course full of hope, bluster, and self-praise. 'Our armies,' says Delony, 'are not like the miserable hirelings of Lincoln—the scum of infamy and degradation—hunted up from the dens, sewers, and filthy prisons of the North, with the low vandalism of foreign importations, picked up wherever they can be found. Yet such are thecreatures our brave soldiers have to meet.Ourarmies are composed of men who have not volunteered for pay, nor for food or clothing!'
Since copying this paragraph, it was recalled to us—within a few hours—by meeting some half-dozen of the 'scum of sewers' in question, in the persons of half-a-dozen young gentlemen, privates in a Massachusetts regiment, several of them college graduates—all of them sons of wealthy citizens and gentlemen. It would be interesting to ascertain, taking man for man, what proportion of the Southern and Northern armies are respectively able to read, or are otherwise personally familiar with the decencies and proprieties of civilized life. From this assumption of superiority Mr. Delony argues victory, asks, 'What about the peace?' and inquires if the Federal Government will offer to negotiate for it?
'We canproposeno terms, but we mustdemandthem. We desire nothing that is not right and just, and we will submit to nothing that is wrong. But no peace will be acceptable to the people that permits the Lincoln Government to hold its Abolition orgies and fulminate its vile edicts upon slave territory. Much valuable property of our citizens has been destroyed, or stolen and carried off by the invaders; this should be accounted for, and paid. The Yankees were shrewd enough to cheat us out of the navy, but we must have half of the war-vessels and naval armament in possession of the North at the commencement of this war. We should enter into no commercial alliances or complications with them, but assume the entire control of our commercial policy and regulations with them, to be modified at our own discretion and pleasure. They have closed against us all navigation and trade on the Mississippi, Missouri, and other rivers; it is our right and duty hereafter so to regulate the navigation of these streams as may best conform to our own interests. It can not be expected that we should permit the free navigation of the Lower Mississippi to the West after they have closed it against us above, without the most stringent regulations. There is no palliation in the pretense that the blockade above was a war measure; they can not so claim it unless we had been acknowledged as belligerents, and hence they have forfeited all right to free navigation as a peace measure. If, then, permission be given to the Free States of the West to navigate the Lower Mississippi, it should be under such restrictions as to afford a commensurate revenue to the confederacy, and the strictest rules regulating the ingress and egress of passengers, officers, and hands. The West is learning us how to do without her, and we thank her for it; we shall have but little need of her produce, as we shall soon have a plentiful supply among our own people. An absolute separation from all the North, with the sole and independent control of all regulations with its people, are our best and safest terms of peace.'
'We canproposeno terms, but we mustdemandthem. We desire nothing that is not right and just, and we will submit to nothing that is wrong. But no peace will be acceptable to the people that permits the Lincoln Government to hold its Abolition orgies and fulminate its vile edicts upon slave territory. Much valuable property of our citizens has been destroyed, or stolen and carried off by the invaders; this should be accounted for, and paid. The Yankees were shrewd enough to cheat us out of the navy, but we must have half of the war-vessels and naval armament in possession of the North at the commencement of this war. We should enter into no commercial alliances or complications with them, but assume the entire control of our commercial policy and regulations with them, to be modified at our own discretion and pleasure. They have closed against us all navigation and trade on the Mississippi, Missouri, and other rivers; it is our right and duty hereafter so to regulate the navigation of these streams as may best conform to our own interests. It can not be expected that we should permit the free navigation of the Lower Mississippi to the West after they have closed it against us above, without the most stringent regulations. There is no palliation in the pretense that the blockade above was a war measure; they can not so claim it unless we had been acknowledged as belligerents, and hence they have forfeited all right to free navigation as a peace measure. If, then, permission be given to the Free States of the West to navigate the Lower Mississippi, it should be under such restrictions as to afford a commensurate revenue to the confederacy, and the strictest rules regulating the ingress and egress of passengers, officers, and hands. The West is learning us how to do without her, and we thank her for it; we shall have but little need of her produce, as we shall soon have a plentiful supply among our own people. An absolute separation from all the North, with the sole and independent control of all regulations with its people, are our best and safest terms of peace.'
What is further hoped for is shown in remarks on the
'We have conquered an outlet to the Pacific which must be maintained, though we can desire no dominion on the Pacific coast, but such as may be sufficient to secure the terminus of our great Pacific railroad through Texas and Arizona. Toward the north and east, the Maryland and Pennsylvania line, including Delaware, is our true landmark. Kansas, on the other side, must be conquered and confiscated to pay for the negroes stolen from us, abolitionism expelled from its borders, and transformed into a Slave State of the confederacy. Perhaps, after we have done with Lincoln, this arrangement may be very acceptable to a majority in Kansas, without force. We will have no desire to disturb Mexico so long as she conducts herself peaceably toward us, and, as a neighbor, maintains good faith in her dealings with us. Central America must remain as a future consideration; and, instead of the acquisition of Cuba, she has become ourfriendly ally, identified with us in interests and institutions, and, so long as she continues to hold slaves, connected with us by the closest ties.'
'We have conquered an outlet to the Pacific which must be maintained, though we can desire no dominion on the Pacific coast, but such as may be sufficient to secure the terminus of our great Pacific railroad through Texas and Arizona. Toward the north and east, the Maryland and Pennsylvania line, including Delaware, is our true landmark. Kansas, on the other side, must be conquered and confiscated to pay for the negroes stolen from us, abolitionism expelled from its borders, and transformed into a Slave State of the confederacy. Perhaps, after we have done with Lincoln, this arrangement may be very acceptable to a majority in Kansas, without force. We will have no desire to disturb Mexico so long as she conducts herself peaceably toward us, and, as a neighbor, maintains good faith in her dealings with us. Central America must remain as a future consideration; and, instead of the acquisition of Cuba, she has become ourfriendly ally, identified with us in interests and institutions, and, so long as she continues to hold slaves, connected with us by the closest ties.'
But the strong point of the article consists in a fierce onslaught on foreigners, all of whom, save those now resident in the South, are to be excluded from citizenship and office. 'With the exception of these, and after that time, no more votes should be allowed, and no' more offices be held, except bynative-borncitizens of the confederacy.'
'The naturalization law of the old Government has proved of little benefit to the Southern States. Whilst our Southern adopted citizens have proven themselves reliable,faithful, and true to our institutions of the South, those of the North, who outnumber them twenty to one, have universally arrayed themselves foremost and in front of Lincoln's hordes in the work of rapine, murder, and destruction against the South.Hereafter then, we can make no distinction between the Yankee and the foreigner, and both must necessarily be debarred of the privilege of citizenship in this confederacy.'
'The naturalization law of the old Government has proved of little benefit to the Southern States. Whilst our Southern adopted citizens have proven themselves reliable,faithful, and true to our institutions of the South, those of the North, who outnumber them twenty to one, have universally arrayed themselves foremost and in front of Lincoln's hordes in the work of rapine, murder, and destruction against the South.Hereafter then, we can make no distinction between the Yankee and the foreigner, and both must necessarily be debarred of the privilege of citizenship in this confederacy.'
Delony, it seems, has 'viewed this question in all its bearings,' 'foremost and in front' of course included, and deems its adoption eminently essential to the future stability and welfare of the confederacy. The abolition ofallimpost duties and a system of direct taxation, are of course warmly advocated—meaning thereby the ruin of Northern manufactures by smuggling European goods over our border. In short, he sets forth plainly what is as yet far from being felt or generally understood, that the independence of the Southern confederacy must inevitably bring with it the total ruin of the North, and the entire exclusion from its citizenship and offices of all persons other than native-born Southerners.
'Article V.' is one of those intensely snobbish, sickening, self-conscious essays on 'Gentility,' which none but a Southerner is capable of writing. The innate vulgarity of its author, 'J. T. Wiswall, of Alabama,' is shown in such expressions as 'a pretty Romeo of seventeen, that looks as charming as sweet sixteen,gallused upin tight unmentionables,' and in artless confessions that he—J. T. Wiswall—belongs to a class above the snob, but still to one 'whose conversation stalks as on stilts,' and which is foppish, effeminate, and ostentatious. The conclusion is, of course, the worship of 'aristocracy,' a worship of which, as J.T. Wiswall infers from his own shallow reading and flimsy experience, exists 'in every heart.' The wants of the rich, their 'toys and gauds,' 'were made to relieve the sufferings of the poor,' and the 'ceaseless abuse of aristocracy isthereforeabsurd.' Without the great truths, based on these relations of rich and poor, J. T. W., the apostle of 'Gentility,' thinks that 'society is a murderous anarchy; without these, revolution follows revolution, and barbarism closes the hideous drama of national existence. On these alone hang all the law and prophets.'
The remaining articles of 'De Bow's Review, Industrial Resources, etc.,' are devoted to Free Trade, the Progress of the War, and the Coal-Fields of Arkansas, none of them, with the exception of the latter, presenting aught like an approach to a useful truth. The magazine is, however, as a whole both curious and characteristic. It shows, as in a mirror, the enormous ambition, the uneasy vanity, the varnished vulgarity of the Southerner, his claims to scrupulous honor, outflanked and contradicted at every turn by an innate tendency to exaggerate and misrepresent, and his imperfect knowledge employed as a basis for the most weighty conclusions. And it is such writers and thinkers who accurately set forth the ideas and principles on which the great experiment of the Southern aristocratic confederacy is to be based—in case of its success. A tremendous Ism, fringed with bayonets! There is strength in bayonets, but what stability is there in the Ism which supports them?
In the far East the imperial ruleIs aided by the British rod;While in the West the rebel schoolReceives full many a friendly nod.Can no new Mithra ever beTo slay this Bull of tyranny?
'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Everyonelivesit—to not many is itknown; and seize it where you will, it is interesting.'—Goethe.'Successful.—Terminating in accomplishing what is wished or intended.'—Webster's Dictionary.
'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Everyonelivesit—to not many is itknown; and seize it where you will, it is interesting.'—Goethe.
'Successful.—Terminating in accomplishing what is wished or intended.'—Webster's Dictionary.
Hiram entered on his new duties—I was about to say with zeal and activity; such are not the words I would employ to describe his conduct or character, but rather earnestness and fidelity. Neither do these terms precisely convey my meaning, but none better occur to me. He was quiet and unobtrusive, at the same time alert and ready. Absolutely negative in his manner, he did not leave a salient point for Mr. Burns to lay hold of. His first object was to learn exactly the situation of his employer's affairs, and that without manifesting the least curiosity on the subject.
Of course, such an event as the introduction of a young man into Mr. Burns's private office was soon known all over town. The appearance of the new-comer was scrutinized, and every word and gesture watched. This Hiram knew very well, and bore himself accordingly. Wherever he went, whether on some business to Slab City with Mr. Burns's horse and wagon, or into the store, or about the village, he carried with him the careful, considerate air of one who is charged with affairs of the greatest importance.
Do not think Hiram was so foolish as to assume a consequential air—not he. His manner appeared quite involuntary; produced necessarily by the grave matters he had in charge. He was by no means reserved. He was always ready to enter into conversation and to answer questions, provided the questions did not refer to his employer's business. Thus he soon gained the reputation in Burnsville which he had in Hampton, of being a very agreeable young man. At first his presence rather puzzled the good people, and some would inquire of Hiram what he was 'hired for;' his answer was ready and explicit: 'To act as confidential clerk for Mr. Burns.' This would be pronounced in a tone so decided, that while it only stimulated the curiosity of the inquirer, it checked further questioning.
In this way, without appearing conceited, arrogant, or consequential, our hero managed to impress every body with the importance and responsibility of his position. Wherever he appeared, folks would say: 'There goes Meeker.' As Mr. Burns's representative, he was noticed more than Mr. Burns himself. Hiram knew very well how to manage all this, and he did so to perfection.
It would have done you good to see Hiram on Sunday, elaborately dressed, going to church with the Widow Hawkins on his arm, followed by the two Miss Hawkins. Walking up the aisle, his countenance composed and serious, he would open the pew-door and wait reverently for Mrs. H. and the young ladies, to pass in. They, 'the young ladies,' would flutter along and enter the pew with a pleased, satisfied air—they were already in love with Hiram—and after the usual turnings and twistings and adjustments, would take their seats, the one next our hero giving him a little bit of a smile or a brief whisper ere she settled down into the ordinary church decorum.
Hiram all the while would not move a muscle. He never cast his eyes around the congregation—he never looked any where except at the clergyman, to whom he paid profound attention. When the services were over, he escorted Mrs. Hawkins back to her house, while the young ladies sometimes stopped to say a few words to their companions.
In a fortnight Hiram had taken a classin the Sunday-school, of which Mr. Burns was superintendent, and on the next communion Sabbath he joined the church by letter.
For some time Hiram confined himself in the office to following implicitly the instructions of Mr. Burns, without venturing to ask any questions or make any suggestions. He carried out these instructions to the letter. He wrote a beautiful hand. He was, as the reader knows, an admirable accountant. For several days Mr. Burns seemed disposed to ascertain his capabilities by putting a variety of matters into his hands. He gave him a contract to copy, and then asked for an abstract of it. He submitted several long accounts to him for arrangement. He sent him to the mill or factory, sometimes to deliver a message simply, sometimes to look after a matter of consequence. Mr. Burns found Hiram on all these occasions to be intelligent, accurate, and prompt. He invariably manifested this single characteristic, to wit, undivided attention to the matter in hand.
'He is an invaluable fellow, I declare,' said Mr. Burns to himself; 'I wish I could feel differently toward him. Strange how a first prejudice will stick to one!'
'I think I am gaining ground,' soliloquized Hiram. 'Let him try me—the more the better. I shall do him good in spite of himself.'
During this period, which we may term Hiram's novitiate, he had been careful, without appearing to avoid her, not to come in contact with Sarah Burns. Mr. Burns was a very hospitable man, but he had omitted to ask Hiram to visit him. The latter was not slow to perceive and appreciate the neglect. He did not mind it much, though. He had gained his position, and felt he could take care of himself.
Meantime Sarah frequently inquired of her father how he liked his new clerk. At first, as we have stated, she felt jealous that any one should share his business confidences with her, but soon she resigned herself to this, and learning who was to enter her father's service, she hoped that she would find an agreeable acquaintance in the young man with whom—if the truth be told—she was really much pleased when they met at Mrs. Crofts'. We have already described the wrath of young Meeker at receiving, as he supposed, the cut direct from Sarah Burns the first day he visited the place. Sarah, entirely unconscious of having given offense, began to wonder how it happened that she never encountered him on any occasion. They attended the same church, each had a class in the Sunday-school, they met in the lecture-room, but never where an opportunity was afforded for them to speak. At last, one Sunday, after he had finished with his class, Hiram started to go to the library to procure some books for his pupils, and perceived, when it was too late, that Miss Burns herself was making choice of some. Another moment, and Hiram was close at her side, but intent on his selections.
'He is diffident,' said Sarah to herself, 'and thinks I do not recognize him because I did not when we met so unexpectedly. It is proper I should speak to him.'
'How do you do, Mr. Meeker?' she said.
Hiram looked up with well-feigned surprise.
'Very well, I thank you,' he replied, with polite formality; 'I hope you are quite well;' and barely waiting for her bow of assent, he busied himself with the books again.
'How hehasaltered! What can be the matter with him?' thought Sarah as she turned to resume her place.
'Pretty well for encounter Number two,' muttered Hiram, as he walked back to his class. 'Wait a little, young lady, and we will see who comes off second best.'
Louisa and Charlotte Hawkins were both very pretty girls. Their mother, now several years a widow, was an estimable lady, who had by no means losther good looks. Possessing excellent health, she made a very youthful appearance, and seemed more like an elder sister than the mother of her daughters. Her husband left her a moderate income, which an unforeseen occurrence had the last season diminished. It was this circumstance which induced her to listen to Hiram's application to become a member of her family. His recommendations were so ample, what Mr. Burns said about him was so satisfactory, and the price which Hiram volunteered to pay for his accommodations so generous, that Mrs. Hawkins found it impossible to refuse him. I will not say that Hiram's manner and address did not serve to turn the scale. The widow was gratified with the extraordinary deference paid to her, with which was mingled a species of admiration, while the young ladies, who were of course brought into the consultation, were somehow severally impressed with the idea that Hiram must be perfectly charming in a privatetête-à-têtewith mamma and sister out of the room.
Hiram's plan with the ladies was literally to divide and conquer. Mrs. Hawkins had too much good sense to take matters seriously, but she could not help being flattered by the assiduous and persevering attentions of so young and handsome a fellow. In fact, she looked five years younger herself, after Hiram came to her house. These attentions, however, were not out of the common course. They were apparently just what it was eminently proper and polite to render; but we have already explained that Hiram had a delicate and most insinuating way of giving force and meaning to them.
Ah! well, after all, we would not intimate that the widow Hawkins, now forty years of age, ever entertained any other thought toward Hiram than that he would make a most delightful son-in-law, or if she did experience feelings which people take for granted belong only to the young, (people are much mistaken,) it is not for me to betray or expose them.
But the young ladies, Miss Louisa and Miss Charlotte—here was a more difficult task, to render equal justice to each. Candidly, however, I think Hiram accomplished it. Louisa was already one-and-twenty, but she had glossy dark hair which she wore in curls down her neck, and served to give her a very youthful appearance. Charlotte, who was nearly two years younger than her sister, was always taken by strangers to be the eldest. She was a blonde, and wore her light brown hair plain over her face. Both these young ladies soon had their private impression that there were peculiar confidences between them and Hiram. It was the old story again. Our hero had lost none of his powers of fascination in removing from Hampton to Burnsville.
You see, reader, how pleasantly Hiram was quartered. I do not suppose that a thought of Mary Jessup ever entered his brain (to say nothing of his heart, if he had any) after he came to Mrs. Hawkins's. He attended to his business devotedly, and never in a single instance sacrificed it to his pleasure, his comfort, or his inclinations. When it was finished, he found solace and enjoyment in the society of these ladies, much as he would enjoy his dinner, though in a higher degree, and with a keener zest.
After the meeting with Miss Burns at the Sunday-school, Hiram no longer avoided her. Still, he confined himself to courteous salutations, in which he appeared perfectly at his ease, and unrestrained, without getting into conversation or alluding to a previous acquaintance. But pray, understand, if Sarah Burns had had the slightest idea that Hiram's course was premeditated, she would have cut his acquaintance instanter, for she was a girl of spirit, with a vein of her father's impetuosity of character. As it was, she imagined every reason for Hiram's reserve but the right one, and so was anxious he should do away with it. To this end she always returned his greeting in a manner calculated to give him confidence if he werediffident, and courage if he were timid. It seemed to little purpose. 'What can be the matter with the fellow?' she said to herself. She was piqued; she was puzzled; she felt annoyed.
Young ladies must excuse me for letting the public into some of their secrets, but as a faithful historian, I am forced to record precisely how Sarah Burns felt, as well as just what she did during the early part of her acquaintance with my hero—an acquaintance which led, as the reader may remember, to an engagement of marriage.
Meantime, Hiram began to gain in Mr. Burns's regard. He soon discovered how very capable his new clerk was. He certainly had never had any such person in his employment before. He found himself by degrees leaving many things for Hiram to attend to which he supposed no one but himself was capable of transacting. In such cases he was astonished with what facility Hiram performed the work; how apt and ready he was. What a comfort for a man with as much on his hands as Mr. Burns, to have such a person near him!
Yet, somehow, with all his readiness, and capability, and actual value to his employer, he wasnota comfort to him. Despite all, Hiram's presence cast a shadow across thesoulof Mr. Burns. While he approved of every thing he did, while he appreciated his extraordinary business abilities, while he could not but feel satisfied and pleased with his competency, his assiduity, and his untiring devotion, the quick, sensitive nature of this truthful, genuine man felt magnetically the malign force working in the brain of the subtle and calculating schemer.
It was remarked after a while about the village, that Hiram never visited. It was soon understood though, what a moral, pious youth he was. The Rev. Mr. Baker said he never conversed with a young person whose religious experience was so interesting, and who manifested such implicit trust in Providence.
Hiram was quick-witted enough to perceive that his situation with Mr. Burns was enough of itself to give him a prominent position in the village. The girls were crazy to be introduced to him, and one young lady who had hitherto held out against it, took a class in Sunday-school so as to make young Meeker's acquaintance at the meetings of the teachers. I have said Hiram never visited; I will tell you why. So long as he madenovisits, it would not appear singular that he did not call at Mr. Burns's, otherwise his omission to do so would certainly attract attention. True, Hiram did not, perhaps, require an invitation to justify his going to see Miss Burns, but he resolved he would not go without one. He was careful, however, that not a soul should know he felt slighted, and this led him to spend his time at home, and devote himself to the widow Hawkins and her daughters. It is true he rapidly made the acquaintance of the whole church. Some very pleasant seasons he enjoyed with the young ladies at the various gatherings connected with it. He was rallied on his being so much of a recluse. Arch hints were conveyed that doubtless his home was specially agreeable. Was it Louisa or Charlotte? Both these young ladies would simper and look conscious when they were attacked on the subject; for both candidly believed they were liable to the innuendoes.
Thus matters went on during the first six months of Hiram's career at Burnsville. In that time he managed to make himself fully acquainted with Mr. Burns's affairs. In fact, he knew more about them with reference to value and availability than did Mr. Burns himself. For with the latter life possessed higher objects than the mere acquisition of property; while with Hiram it wasthegreat earthly good, and not a thought or a fancy entered his brain which did not have reference to it. We can see how very useful such a person would be to Mr. Burns. Indeed, after a while he found himself listening to occasionalsuggestions which Hiram modestly put forth about this or that matter.
The liberal terms allowed to every one in his service was a matter of great annoyance to the confidential clerk. But here he touched a vital principle in Mr. Burns's course of action, which was, to regard all who served him as entitled to share according to their usefulness in the benefits of the business or enterprise in which they were engaged. The result was, that their wages or salaries were on a generous scale. A further result appeared in the pleasing aspect of the village, betokening a more diffused prosperity than is ordinarily observed.
Now, Hiram had early mastered the doctrine of making the many contribute to the success and fortunes of the few. It had already become one of his cardinal ideas. The reader will recollect that about the first thing which impressed our hero on coming to Burnsville, was the fact that Mr. Burns was not as rich as he ought to be considering the facilities he had to make money. Here was a point beyond Hiram Meeker's comprehension. Turn it whichever way he would, he failed to understand Mr. Burns in this. You see, Hiram could have no more idea of his employer's large and humanizing views than a blind man of colors. He could not attribute it to lack of sagacity, for he saw such abundant proofs as compelled his admiration and respect. It did not appear to grow out of any strict religious theories, for Mr. Burns held mere professions in such low esteem that he neverspokeof an act or of a course as dictated or regulated by a sense of duty, so called. Since his wife died, he had tried to obey her dying injunction, 'to live right,' which he soon discovered had reference to the state of his heart, and thus to his motives, while his actions were such as would naturally flow from such a condition of the 'inner man.' Hiram, on the other hand, practiced on the philosophical principle of 'means to ends.' He had two ends in view, namely: To beSUCCESSFULhere, and to beSUCCESSFULhereafter. He was determined to omit nothing which could further these ends. But since these (as we have before stated) had no reference to or connection with any thing exceptself, the reader will readily see how Hiram failed to understand Mr. Burns.
On other points there was no difficulty. And on his part, Mr. Burns could not help being struck with the clear, rapid, comprehensive business mind of the young man. Despite his prejudices, Hiram advanced daily in his confidence.
There was one matter, and that an important one, in Mr. Burns's affairs which was going wrong. I refer to the paper-mill. Mr. Burns had undertaken the enterprise in connection with an excellent man, an old friend and an extensive paper-dealer, residing in New-York. Each furnished half the capital for the erection of the mill and for the machinery, and they were, therefore, joint owners of the property. The season after it went into operation, his friend failed and felt himself obliged, without having time to consult Mr. Burns, to convey his portion of the mill to a Mr. Joslin—Mr. Elihu Joslin, one of the largest paper-merchants in the city, to whom he owed a heavy confidential debt. This Joslin was a very rich man and also very unscrupulous—such was his reputation with the trade. Not a few thought he was the means of forcing his brother-merchant into bankruptcy, having first lent him considerable sums of money on a pledge that it should be considered confidential in any event. In this way Elihu Joslin came to be owner of one half the paper-mill with Joel Burns. At the first interview every thing passed pleasantly between the two. Joslin was planning how to get the other in his power, and so finally possess the whole of the property. It was arranged, as was very proper, that Mr. Joslin should act as merchant for the mill, as his predecessor had done. He was to purchase and forward rags of which to manufacture paper, and should receive on consignment all paper produced at the mill. He sounded Mr. Burns on his own wants for money, andwas disappointed to find him in no need whatever. On the rendering of the first accounts, Mr. Burns was much chagrined at the state of things which they discovered. True, every thing was correct on paper. Rags were entered at the market price; consignments when sold were properly credited. But there were charges for all sorts of commissions, for accepting, and paying, and accepting again, because paper remained unsold, and for a variety of things hitherto unheard of in ordinary dealings, and which the previous correspondent of Mr. Burns had never made, which were positively startling. Mr. Burns remonstrated by letter. It did not do the least good. He was dealing with a bold, daring, unscrupulous man, who, in the language of his acquaintances, always practiced the grab-game.
Mr. Burns finally made the best settlement of the account in his power, determining, before another six months should pass, that he would make a change of some sort. Unfortunately, he was at that time rather short of money, for he was expending considerable sums in other enterprises, and supposed the paper-mill could not fail of taking care of itself. So he continued to send forward to Mr. Joslin the consignments of paper, and to draw on him as usual. The next rendering of accounts showed affairs in a sad plight. Paper was very dull, so Joslin wrote. The lots sent forward were not as good as usual, (which was a falsehood,) so that much that had been sold was returned to him, (another lie,) and he had been forced to sell the most of it at auction to cover his advances, and the last cargo of rags still remained unpaid.
Mr. Burns was thunderstruck. He saw at once that he had fallen into the hands of a knave; but what was to be done? The idea of going to New-York to obtain satisfaction and thus encounter the scoundrel on his own ground was not pleasant; but what else could be done? He decided, after some reflection, as he could not just then leave the place, to send the superintendent of the mill to Mr. Joslin for the purpose of investigating the account, and all the circumstances connected with the business. He prepared a strong letter to Joslin, in which he spoke with great severity of the course pursued by that individual.
At this juncture Hiram was taken into the consultation. He begged Mr. Burns to write no letter, but to send any message he chose. 'The man will accomplish nothing,' he rather curtly added, 'still, it is well enough to send him.' Mr. Burns thought Hiram's suggestion a prudent one, so the head man of the paper-mill was dispatched with his instructions. He returned in three days very well satisfied with his journey. He had been received by Mr. Elihu Joslin with the utmost politeness. He expressed entire willingness to go over the account and correct any mistakes in it. Indeed, he had succeeded in convincing Mr. Joslin of one error of thirty-one dollars and twenty-six cents, which the latter at once made right. As to the main points at issue, however, Mr. Joslin could not alter the amount. There were the advances, here the sales, there the charges, here the credits. As to the commissions for buying, for selling, and guaranteeing, and for accepting, why, let him consult the very first houses in the city, theveryfirst. He would leave it to Mr. Burns to select the house, and abide by its decision.
The man came back to Burnsville completely bamboozled. Hiram was present in Mr. Burns's office when this report was made. Mr. Burns received it in silence. He saw at once how his messenger had been over-reached.
When the latter left the office he turned toward Hiram and said:
'This is an unfortunate business.'
'I want to ask an especial favor of you,' said Hiram.
'What is it?'
'I want you to permit me to go to New-York and try what I can do.'
'Have you any plan?'
'I can not say I have. It would depend on circumstances.'
'Have you confidence in achieving something?'
'I have sufficient to induce me to wish to make the attempt.'
'Well, you shall go.'
'I would like to start to-morrow.'
'Very well; come to my house after tea and we will look over the papers.'
'I am much obliged to you, sir.'
Mr. Burns started to leave the office; he opened the door and was half out; then he turned.
'By the way, Meeker, come and take tea with me; we will then be ready to go at once into the accounts.'
'Thank you, sir.'
The door closed and Hiram was left alone. What a moment of triumph, as he regarded it!
'Invitedto the house at last! I knew I should fetch it. Let us see ... very good.... Now, young lady....'
The murmurings finally became inaudible as Hiram rose and walked up and down the room, stopping occasionally, and then starting rapidly on.
Mr. Burns proceeded homeward, quite unconscious of the excitement he had raised in Hiram's breast. Always considerate and just, it occurred to him since he had requested the young man to come to his house on business, thus breaking over his usual rule, that he ought to ask him to tea, and accordingly he did so. He announced the fact to Sarah as he entered the house. He was too much preöccupied to observe a slight flush rise to her cheeks as he spoke. She, however, only replied:
'Any thing unusual, father?'
'Yes; Stevens has returned from New-York, accomplishing nothing. I am going to send Meeker. We are to look over matters this evening.'
'Indeed, Do you think he can do better than Stevens?'
'Yes, I think so. Besides, he wants to go. He volunteered to go.'
'Is it possible?'
'Why not, my child?'
'I am sure I don't know; it seems strange.'
'Perhaps it does; but I confess I have a great deal of confidence that he will bring something about.'
That evening the appearance of the table was slightly changed—not enough to attract Mr. Burns's attention, but there was a greater display of silver than usual, and a nicer regard to arrangement. The same might be said of Sarah herself. The casual observer would not notice it, one of her own sex would.
One minute past the appointed time master Hiram arrived, direct from the office, where he had been so immersed in accounts, head and hands so full of business, as almost to forget the tea-hour.
Yes, he came direct from the office. But previously he had stepped to his room, and without 'dressing up,' or apparently disturbing the usual arrangement of his wardrobe, managed to make himself especially presentable. In short, he had done just what Sarah Burns had done.
I wish you could have witnessed the meeting between them. You would have thought Hiram in the habit of going all his life to the house, instead of entering it for the first time. No forwardness, though, no assumption, yet entire freedom from awkwardness or embarrassment.
Sarah, on her part, received him with a pleasant lady-like greeting, quite unconscious, as we have already intimated, of having given Hiram any cause of offense.
Various topics were discussed: the condition of the Sunday-school, the health of the clergyman, the high water at Slab City, the lecture of the celebrated Charles Benjamin Bruce, the prospects of the Lyceum, the new town-hall.
Mr. Burns said but little. It was very unusual to see him engrossed with any business matter to the exclusion of social enjoyments.Washe thinking of business altogether? Occasionally and unconsciously his eye would glance from his daughter to Hiram and then back again. Little did he know, little could he guess what was passing in that crafty, scheming brain—else....
Mr. Burns was called out for a few moments just as tea was concluded.
'So,' exclaimed Sarah suddenly, 'you are going to New-York?'
'How do you know that?' returned Hiram.
'How do I know it? Are you not aware that I knowevery thinggoing on? I was very jealous of you at first.'
'Of me?'
'Yes, for depriving me of my situation.'
'You speak in riddles.'
'Did you not knowIwas father's 'confidential clerk' before you cut me out?'
'Indeed I did not. If I had, I should never have presumed to offer my services.'
'I suppose it was well you did. Some time I will tell you what I used to do. But father talks to me about every thing just as ever. Oh! I hope youcando something with that Mr. Joslin. Do you think you can?'
'I hope so; I shall try, and—(he hesitated, looked down, and blushed—consummate actor that he was)—'and all the harder now that I findyoutake such an interest in it.'
'Oh! thank you,' replied Sarah.
[There was the slightest perceptible hauteur in her tone, and the slightest perceptible drawing in from her previous pleasant, free manner—only the slightest.]
'For,' continued Hiram, lifting his eyes and looking at her boldly, as if not noticing the remark, 'if you take so much interest in my mission, you will be forced to feel some sort of interest in me.'
'If yousucceed, why, I will say yes,' replied Sarah, with entire good humor. 'If you do not—'
'I accept the alternative,' interrupted Hiram, 'but do not forget your pledge.'
Here Mr. Burns came in, and the two proceeded at once to business. He did not see Sarah again.
It was at a late hour that Hiram left the house. With Mr. Burns's aid he had mastered the whole subject, accounts and all. He was happy. Once as he walked along he turned and cast his eyes up at the window. I do not like to think of the look which flitted across his face. He nodded significantly, and went on his way.
Louisa Hawkins opened the door for him the moment he put his foot on the step.
'Wherehaveyou been?' she whispered, 'I was so frightened. I persuadedthemto go to bed. Did you think I would be waiting for you?'
'I was sure of it, Lily.'
'Youwere, weren't you?'
They went in and sat half an hour in the parlor together. But Hiram gave her no inkling of where he passed the evening.
The next day our hero started for New-York. Of his adventures there, and the result of his interview with Elihu Joslin, we will speak in another chapter.
The Dark and Bloody Ground of yore,Kentucky, thou art that once more.But where is he who gave the name—The Indian? Lost like meteor's flame!Gone, as the bandits soon shall be,Who brought the name again to thee!