Class ^EM.^^. 
 
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 ;j3 iBF 
 
 NEW ORLEANS 
 
 
 AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 /J5r-i 
 
 BY H. DIDIMUS. 
 
 *' Dieser sahe die welt wie sie wirklich war." -Sckillkr. 
 
 <^.CAN27j;^> 
 
 IIBKARY ' j 
 
 ^Tr-Yo;RV^ 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY HARPER «fc BROTHERS, 
 No. 83 Cliff- Street. 
 
 1845. 
 

 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1845, 1>J- 
 
 Harper & Brothers 
 Jr the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 TO M— R— E. 
 
 My dearest Friend : 
 
 With great pleasure I dedicate to you these sketches of some of the incidents of my 
 first visit to New Orleans, in the winter of 1835-36. 
 
 In a " Second Part" I shall add other compartments to an unfinished picture of the 
 most remarkable city of our country. But when I again appear before you, you must 
 not expect to find in the New Orleans of "to-day" an exact counterpart of "the New 
 Orleans of 1836." A few years tell much in its story; and herein consists the diffi- 
 culty of my subject. The city's rapid growth in population, in business, and in wealth 
 — causes which will continue to operate for centuries to come — the frequent change 
 of actors upon its scenes— owing, in part, to the periodical visitation of its great 
 scourge, but mostly to the annual influx of new men from northern climes, with nor- 
 thern habits and northern thought — render it impossible to draw a portrait which will 
 be equally recognised from every point of time. H. D. 
 
 The Hook, N. H., 1835. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 iv 
 
 (!X 
 
 \r'r: 
 
 PAR T vl.^ ivy V ^ T ' ^ 
 
 " Taking the age as it now stands, and with reference to conferapOTaiy maftfers, we haife already said that 
 we consider the judgment of the public, which presumes some foundation, in fact, for every current state- 
 ment, to be in the majority of cases a just one. Fiction, though siiJl powerful £krvd active, is in a minority — 
 on the whole, in a dechning minority. In her old, time-honOared-€a«tles, 8l»«- does indeed preserve unsha- 
 ken authority ; but her new conquests, if not diificuit to be made, are at least difficult to be maintained." 
 . — Westminster Review. 
 
 DAY THE FIRST. 
 
 " The divisions of a work, whether they be styled parts, or books, or chapters, or sections, or whatsoever 
 else the fancy of the writer may devise, are a happy invention — they are breathing points for the mind." 
 —Dr. Williams. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " We entered into this citie, and observed its make 
 and people." — Hackluyt, Voyages 
 
 AilGUMENT. 
 
 The Reader introduced to the Scene of Action. — The 
 Levee. — Fiat-Boats.— A Flat-Boatman. — An Ac- 
 quaintance made. 
 
 By whatever route the traveller ap- 
 proaches New Orleans — vvhether by the 
 river, the sea, or the lake — the feature 
 which first attracts his attention is its Le- 
 vee ; and I could not have chosen a better 
 starting-point from which to commence 
 my observations upon this " world in min- 
 iature" — where one may meet with the 
 products and the people of every country 
 in any way connected with commerce — 
 than its upper or most southern extremity. 
 
 The traveller loses the points of the 
 compass at New Orleans, and knowing 
 that the general course of the river is from 
 north to south, is surprised to learn that 
 the city lies west of the Mississippi, which 
 here flows due north — that the American 
 or upper part of the city, as it is called, is 
 really its most southern extremity ; and 
 that the frosty Yankee has actually taken 
 up his habitation south of the sunny de- 
 scendants of France, Spain, and Italy ! 
 This exchange of geographical position is 
 to be attributed to the northerners superior 
 judgment and foresight ; and is here refer- 
 red to, that the reader may fully compre- 
 hend the locale of the theatre I am about to 
 describe, and observe its action without 
 being disturbed by the discovery that the 
 sun is rising in the west ! 
 
 Levee is a French word, of primary im- 
 portance within the State of Louisiana : it 
 pervades its statute-book, and is daily 
 heard within its halls of justice. " There 
 is little or no land," says Judge Porter, 
 "on the banks of the river, within this 
 state, if we except an inconsiderable 
 quwnrity in the neighbourhood of, and 
 above Baton Rouge, which would not be 
 covered with the waters of the Mississippi 
 
 in the spring months, were it not for the 
 artificial embankment which the industry 
 of man has raised to exclude them." Thus 
 the Dutch are not the only people who 
 have won their domain from the watery 
 element. The State of Louisiana, whea 
 we consider its recent existence, the pau- 
 city of its population, and that population 
 sparsely scattered over a large extent of 
 country, has done more than Holland : yet 
 we overlook the wonder which lies at our 
 own door, to lose ourselves in admiration 
 of the not greater wonder three thousand 
 miles off. 
 
 The traveller from the north, as he 
 touches the region of the orange and cane, 
 of smiling plantations, bounded in the back- 
 ground by dense forests, aiid stretching 
 onward to a seemingly illimitable extent 
 towards the south, and looks down upon 
 the planter's mansion, the cluster of white 
 cottages hard by,* the slave at his daily 
 task, and the mounted overseer, as one 
 would look down from a balcony upon the 
 busy street below, appears first to be made 
 conscious that the Mississippi, the father 
 of waters, the receiver of so many mighty 
 rivers, is here, near the close of its course, 
 where its stream is most rapid, controlled 
 by the puny hand of man— that the ocean- 
 stream upon whose bosom he is floating, 
 here restricted, hemmed in, and directed^ 
 sweeps down to the sea over an artificial 
 ridge, and that he is passing through a 
 huge aqueduct, which raises the dweller 
 upon water above the dweller upon land ! 
 Here the waves do indeed bound beneath 
 him as a steed that knows his rider; yet 
 the traveller sees, admires, and forgets. 
 But if he forgets the whole, he cannot for- 
 get the part : when once seen, once re- 
 marked, he cannot forget the Levee of New 
 Orleans — the storehouse of the great Val- 
 
 * The northerner, accustomed to extravagant por- 
 traitures of the slave's deprivations, is agreeably sur- 
 prised to find the servant sheltered by a roof often 
 equal with, and sometimes 'superior to, that which 
 protects the master. 
 
6 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 ley of the Mississippi ; the receptacle of 
 the products of a hundred cHmes, of a 
 country extending from the frigid to the 
 torrid zone, ilUmitabie in resources,' as al- 
 most inimitable in extent ; the goal of a 
 thousand steamboats, and of more than a 
 thousand merchantmen ; the exchange, the 
 place of purchase, of sale, and of barter ; 
 the huckster's shop, the news-room, and 
 the Prado* of the greatest exporting city 
 in the world. f 
 
 * Prado, in its original signification, is an epithet 
 little applicable to the dust and total absence of every 
 green thing which characterizes the Levee ; but the 
 descendants of the daughters of Spain have not in 
 any degree degenerated in their love of public walks, 
 and if, to enjoy a taste so beneficial, they have been 
 compelled to encroach upon the common landing of 
 the city, they may be permitted to refer to it in lan- 
 guage calculated "to recall the pleasures of Madrid. 
 
 t Perhaps there is no better gauge of what may 
 be, than what has been ; the writer has, therefore, 
 •collected in the following note a few historical data, 
 to justify such hopes of the future as the reader may 
 meet wiih in the course of this work. 
 
 In the year 1717, the government of France found 
 it advisable to place its province of Louisiana under 
 the direction of a company ; and a charter, conferring 
 upon its proprietors nearly all the powers of sover- 
 eignty, was registered in the parliament of Paris, on 
 the 6th of September, 1717. At that time the popu- 
 lation of the province, comprising an o.xtent of coun- 
 try stretching from Mobile to the head waters of the 
 Mississippi, amounted to seven hundred souls ! On 
 the 9th of February, 1718, three of the company's 
 ships arrived in the province, freighted with soldiers 
 and colonists. " lis apperterent," says a late writer, 
 " I'agreable nouvelle que Bienville etait nomme gouv- 
 erneur ; un homme qui avail passe vingtant dans la 
 colonie, et qui connaissait toutes Ics resources et 
 toutes les besoins et qui s'etait rendu cher a tons les 
 habitans." The first act of that gentleman's admin- 
 istration was to select upon the banks of the Missis- 
 sippi a site favourable for the capital of the province. 
 ■" II choisit," continues the writer above quoted, " I'en- 
 droit oQ se trouve maintenant la Nouvelle Orleans ; 
 et il y laissa cinquante hommes pour nettoyer le ter- 
 rain, et y construire des baraques !" 
 
 What will not a century bring forth ! Is there a 
 descendant of Bienville among us? If there is, let 
 him stand now upon the banks of the Mississippi, 
 shut out the present, call up the past, and assume 
 the feelings, the knowledge, the character, the iden- 
 tity of his ancestor. When the spell breaks, and the 
 dream disperses, he will find that ages of action have 
 been compressed into one little age of time. Surely, 
 what once required ten centuries is now done in one. 
 In 1722, New Orleans was officially proclaimed 
 the capital of the colonial government, having at that 
 time a jiopulation of 200 ! On the 22d of January, 
 1732, the Company of Louisiana resigned its charter 
 into the hands of the king, with an agsregate popu- 
 lation in the whole province of 5000 whiles and 2000 
 slaves. On the 3d of November, 1763, the King of 
 France ceded to the King of Spain all that part of 
 the then Province of Louisiana which lay west of the 
 Mississippi, together with the city of New Orleans. 
 in September, 1706, Ulloa arrived at New Orleans, 
 with authority to take possession of the ceded terri- 
 tory in the name of the King of Spain ; the province 
 then numbered 5000 whiles and 6000 blacks. On the 
 16th of August, 1769, the Spanish general, O'Reily, 
 exhibited his credentials, and formally took posses- 
 sion of the province, Ulloa having refrained from so 
 doing, from motives of policy : the city then possess- 
 ed a population of 3190; of whom 1902 were free, in- 
 cluding 31 of pure and 68 of mixed African blood ; 
 1225 slaves, and 60 Indians. The houses were in 
 
 The Levf e of New Orleans is one con- 
 tinued landi ig-place or quay, four miles in 
 extent, and "f an average breadth of one 
 hundred feet. It is fifteen feet above low- 
 water mark, or that stage of the river when 
 its waters retire wholly within their natu- 
 ral bed ; and six feet above the level of the 
 city, to which it is graduated by an easy 
 descent. Like the river it margins, it 
 holds a serpentine course ; advancing or 
 receding, as the Mississippi encroaches 
 upon the city, or falls off towards the op- 
 posite bank. It is constructed of deposUe, 
 a rich alluvion swept from the north, and 
 held in suspension by the waters of the 
 Mississippi until their rapidity is checked 
 by a sudden change of direction, or, swoll- 
 en to overflowing, they spread over the ad- 
 jacent swamps, again to retire, and again 
 to bless the land they have visited with an 
 increase of soil. The deposite is so great, 
 and the consequent formation of new land 
 so rapid, immediately in front of that por- 
 tion of the quay which is most used for the 
 purposes of commerce, that it has within 
 a few years become necessary to build 
 piled wharves, jutting out from fifty to one 
 hundred feet into the river. The new for- 
 mation, which is governed, as to its local- 
 ity, by what may well be termed the freaks 
 of the Mississippi, is called " Batture ;"* 
 and when it has progressed to such an ex- 
 tent as to be left bare by the retiring water 
 at its lowest stage, is held capable of own- 
 ership : a sort of property which has giv- 
 en birth to an indefinite amount of long- 
 continued, intricate, and vexatious litiga- 
 tion, dating from the first appearance of the 
 late Edward Livingston in the courts of 
 Louisiana up to the present moment. 
 
 I have now introduced the reader to that 
 part of the city vvliich will first occupy our 
 attention. The city of Lafayette is busy 
 behind me — a mere suburb of rusty, wood- 
 
 number 468. In 1785, the population of New Or- 
 leans had increased only 1770 — 4960 ; and in 1793, 
 only 2148—5338, in a period of nineteen years. 
 
 On the 21st of March, 1801, Louisiana was ceded 
 to France, in conformity with the stipulations of a 
 treaty concluded between his Catholic majesty and 
 the First Consul of the French Republic, at St. Ilde- 
 fonso, the 1st of October, 1800. On the 30th of No- 
 vember, 1803, Lausat took possession of the province 
 in the name of the Republic. The population of the 
 city then amounted to 8056. On the 20th of Decem- 
 ber following, the province again changed masters, 
 and passed into the possession of that power which, 
 with a liberality unknown to history, has raised the 
 purchased to an equality with the purchaser — has 
 stripped the servant of the badges of servitude, and 
 clothed his limhs with sovereignty. In 1810, the 
 population of New Orleans had increased to 17.242; 
 in 1820, to 27,176; and, in 1830, to 46,310: but it is 
 to be remembered that these numbers give only its 
 fixed population, or that which is to be found in the 
 city in midsummer. During the busine.ss season it 
 wiil not now (1839) fall far under 150,000. Such are 
 the effects of Liberty! 
 
 * A Creole corruption of battures, a French "'""^ 
 having no singular, and signifying flats, sh; 
 shoals.— Vide 6. M. Reps., p. 21. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 • en houses; on my left I hear a confused 
 Babylonish dialect, sounds harsher than 
 harshness, the patois, provincialisms, and 
 lingual corruptions of all the Germanic 
 tribes — it is the German quarter; and on 
 my right flows the Mississippi, a stream of 
 jnud, whose very filth constitutes its puri- 
 ty. And here one may see what New Or- 
 leans was before the application of steam 
 to navigation. Hundreds of long, narrow, 
 black, dirty-looking, crocodile-like rafts 
 lie sluggishly, without moorings, upon the 
 8oft batture, and pour out their contents 
 upon the quay : a heterogeneous compound 
 of the products of the Upper Mississippi 
 and its tributaries. These rafts, or flat- 
 boats, as they are technically called,* are 
 covered with a raised work of scantling, 
 giving them the appearance of long, nar- 
 row cabins, built for the purpose of habi- 
 tation, but designed to protect from the 
 ■weather- a cargo often of the value of from 
 three to fifteen thousand dollars. They 
 are guided by an oar at the stern, aided 
 with an occasional dip of two huge pieces 
 of timber, which move on either side like 
 fins, and float with the stream at a rate of 
 three miles the hour. Such was the car- 
 riage of the products of the up-country 
 twenty years ago ! their number has not 
 been diminished by the introduction of the 
 steamboat. It is, indeed, a natural,^imple, 
 and cheap mode of transportation ; and as 
 long as the Mississippi passes with such 
 rapidity from its source to its embouchure 
 in the gulf, the traveller will meet with 
 these unsightly masses floating on its bo- 
 som, swayed to and fro by its currents, 
 counter-currents, and eddies, often shift- 
 ing end for end, like some species of shell- 
 fish, and not unfrequently, like the crab, 
 preferring the oblique to the forward move- 
 ment. Yet hundreds are at times sunk by 
 sudden squalls, and of the many freighted 
 in the up-country, perhaps not more than 
 two thirds ever reach New Orleans. The 
 insurance offices look upon them as very 
 unsafe bottoms. 
 
 Of the many which lie before me, ground- 
 ed upon the batture, some are filled with fat 
 cattle, whose lowing discourses eloquently 
 of the distant pastures of the north. The 
 States of Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, Mis- 
 souri, Arkansas, and Louisiana, and the Re- 
 public of Texas, annually send more than 
 twenty thousand head of horned cattle to 
 this market. Arkansas, Missouri, and Tex- 
 as raise numerous herds, which run wild 
 over their extensive prairies, and are tamed 
 and caught with salt. Kentucky, with 
 
 ♦ The flat-boat may claim the honour of antiquity. 
 " Man nahen zwei unif dreissig Playten (Platte 
 Fahrzeuge), jede sechs und sechzig Fusz lang und 
 zwanzig breit, und diese fiigte man." — U. s. v. Schill- 
 er, Belagerung von Antwerpen. This description is 
 literally applicable to the flat-boats of the Missis- 
 sippi. 
 
 greater progress in the arts of husbandry, 
 pastures and stalls its beef, which, conse- 
 quently, bears off" the palm for size, condi- 
 tion, and general excellence. Henry Clay 
 is an accomplished farmer ; not the least 
 of his merits : and the eflfects of his labours 
 at " Ashland" may be seen in the short 
 horns, broad chests, full, round proportions, 
 and sleek, glossy hides of the monsters 
 which are now passing from the water to 
 dry land, snuffing the air, conscious of for- 
 eign parts, yet treading the earth firmly, 
 and with measured step, without any of 
 the frolic meaner breeding would have ex- 
 hibited. 
 
 Others are freighted with horses, mules, 
 and sheep ; corn in sacks or in bulk, and 
 upon the cob — a method of transportation 
 which has its advantages, what is lost in 
 stowage being gained in protection from 
 must and rot. 
 
 Here is a boat stowed with apples, infe- 
 rior enough in quality, cider, cheese, pota- 
 toes, butter, chickens, lard, hay — coarse, 
 the rank growth of a virgin soil — all offered 
 for sale, in the mass or by the lot ; a variety 
 storehouse which would make a Yankee's 
 heart leap for joy. And there lie thirty 
 more, side and side, reeking with grease, 
 steaming in the sun, and smelling — faugh ! 
 none but a Christian could live amid such 
 a mass of swine's flesh. Pork, alive, in 
 bulk, in barrels, fresh, salted, smoked, of 
 all sizes and conditions ; the corn-fed fat- 
 ness of Ohio, and the lean acorn-growth 
 of Illinois : were Judaism to prevail, where 
 would be the greatness of Cincinnati ? 
 Flour from Virginia and Ohio, old and new, 
 sweet and sour ; the leading breadstuff", yet 
 the most fickle in price : cotton from Ar- 
 kansas and Mississippi, lumber from Ten- 
 nessee, whiskey from Missouri, tobacco 
 from Kentucky, twice foundered, twice 
 drenched, to be here dried, cured anew, 
 disguised, and repacked, close the list. 
 
 But the men who make these things of 
 wood their dwellings ; who launch them 
 upon the Ohio, the Illinois, the Upper Mis- 
 sissippi, the Missouri, the Arkansas, and 
 the Cumberland, with all their tributaries, 
 and guide them to this their final resting- 
 place, should not be forgotten. They are 
 a distinct class of beings, livers on the wa- 
 ter, known and designated as '• boatmen of 
 the Mississippi," an expression which em- 
 braces all that is strong, hardy, rough, and 
 uncouth, with much that is savage, wild, 
 and lawless. They cannot be supposed to 
 have been born in habitations constructed 
 for so temporary a purpose ; yet the con- 
 geniality of their dispositions with their 
 situation and employment might justify 
 one in suspecting that their mothers, like 
 Antonia Perez, often visited the scenes of 
 their husband's labours. " Mi nacimienlo," 
 says Lazanllo, " fue dentro del rio Termes, 
 par la qual cosa tome el solsenombre" (de 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 Tecmes), " y fue de esta manera. Mi pad- 
 re (que dios perdone), tenia cargo de pro- 
 veer una molienda de una acefia que esta 
 ribera de aquel rio, en la qual fue molinero 
 mas de quiaer afios : y estando mi madre 
 una noclie en la acefia prefiada de mi, to- 
 m61a el parto y pariome alii, de manera 
 que con verdad me puedo decir nacido en 
 el rio." Undoubtedly, like Jacob the Faith- 
 ful, many of them in that way first smelled 
 the mud. 
 
 There is now before me a model of his 
 kind, et tabula uni, discriptio omnium. He 
 stands six feet, broad shouldered, broad 
 breasted, large boned, fatless, but well 
 strung and knit with muscle. He stoops 
 in the back, his head projects a foot be- 
 yond his breast, his hair is long, shaggy, 
 and falls dishevelled about his ears; his 
 feet are broad enough to serve as a base 
 to the hanging tower above, and his hands 
 are of the compass of a goodly-sized di- 
 ning plate. His chin is unreaped, his mouth 
 capacious ; his nose massive, projecting, 
 and of a warm, whiskey hue ; his eyes are 
 swollen, red, and watery, the effects of ex- 
 posure ; his eyelashes gone, and eyebrows 
 long, thin, and scraggy; his costume, a 
 large felt hat, worn u la slouche, with an im- 
 mense brim, from which the rains of heav- 
 en have long since extracted the glue ; it 
 looks for all the world like an old lady's 
 cap-ruffle of a Saturday morning, unstarch- 
 ed ; a round linsey-woolsey jacket, with 
 sleeves which halt half way between the 
 elbow and the wrist, and trousers to match, 
 of stout Kentucky jeans : the nether, like 
 the upper garment, exhibiting a strong dis- 
 inclination towards extension. There he 
 stands, faithfully drawn, a flat-boatman of 
 the Mississippi. There are exceptions, 
 sed exceptio probat regulam. 
 
 " Good-morning, sir," said I, approach- 
 ing the figure, and touching my hat re- 
 spectfully. 
 
 " Good-morning, good-morning," replied 
 the boatman ; and dc.;:;hingthe rheum from 
 his eyes with one hand, he mechanically 
 extended the other, not in token of friend- 
 ship or recognition ; but every seller upon 
 the Levee sees a purchaser in a stranger, 
 and baits his hook with the little courte- 
 sies of life when he would fish for a cus- 
 tomer. I met the proffered member half 
 way ; it felt like a piece of well-tanned 
 leather, hard, solid ; there was no give to 
 it ; it had seen service ; yet the grasp was 
 as gentle as a woman's ; for it was one of 
 formal habit. 
 
 " A very cool morning, sir." 
 
 '■' D — d cool," replied the boatman, en- 
 ergetically, while he rubbed his two fins, 
 one over the other, with a rapidity which 
 .must' have excoriated common flesh. 
 
 " What may be the price of corn i" said 
 I, innocently. 
 
 " The price of corn ]" The boatman's 
 
 eye twinkled. " Closed at seven bits* 
 yesterday ; will be eight to-day ; shouldn't 
 be surprised if it ran up to twelve before it 
 stops; mildew — rot — cold summer — wet 
 fall— played the devil with it— told that 
 ten boat-loads were sunk in the late squall, 
 near island No. 23. I have a right smart 
 sprinkle of the article in a small chunk of 
 a boat hard by." 
 
 " My dear sir — " 
 
 " Half in sacks, and — " 
 
 " I am no purchaser — " 
 
 '' Half on the cob—" 
 
 " I merely inquired — ''' 
 
 " Five thousand bushels in the heap — " 
 
 " Out of curiosity." 
 
 " Growed on the best rib in old Ken- 
 tuck—" 
 
 " I am very sorry — " 
 
 " Right from Little Bear Creek—" 
 
 " I have—" 
 
 " Sound and sweet — ' 
 
 " Put you—" 
 
 " Never seed better — " 
 
 " To the—" 
 
 " Must go up river to-morrow — ' 
 
 " Trouble—" 
 
 " Will sell cheap—" 
 
 " Of—" 
 
 " Have chance for a speculation — " 
 
 " Enumerating — " 
 
 " Do you wish to buy"?" 
 
 I had, unintentionally, touched the right 
 spring. The machine was wound up, and 
 it would go on until it ran down. 
 
 "Do you wish to buyl" and the boat- 
 man drew a long breath. 
 
 The question was to be answered : and, 
 as soon as my admiration of the man's vol- 
 ubility had somewhat abated, I renewed 
 my asseverations of entire disinterested- 
 ness in the condition of the market ; sta- 
 ting, in a deprecating tone, that I was a 
 mere idler upon the Levee, a stranger to 
 these parts, one whose sole object was to 
 hear what was to be heard, and to see 
 what was to be seen. My friend looked 
 at me narrowly, but soon resolved his 
 doubts. 
 
 " Come !" said he, pointing to one of the 
 many flat-boats which lay aground near 
 us ; "I have lived thirty years on this riv- 
 er, and this is my last trip. I am old, and 
 a twinge of the rheumatics is what I call 
 a broad hint. Perhaps you are about to 
 enter upon that scene which I find it time 
 to leave — we must drink together." 
 
 The old boatman's words went to my 
 heart. " I have lived thirty years on this 
 river, and this is my last trip !" I bowed 
 more than respectfully, and, putting his 
 arm within mine, walked towards his hab- 
 itation. 
 
 "This is my home!" said the boatman, 
 
 * Bit — a local term for the Spanish coir: 
 and a half cents value. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 9 
 
 as we stepped into the queer craft over 
 which he held command. It was a long, 
 narrow trough, fifty feet from stem to stern, 
 with a beam of twelve ; the floor and sides 
 were made of thick plank, double, and 
 cross-laid, and well calked and tarred in 
 the seams ; the whole covered with the 
 light raised work of scantling of which I 
 have already spoken ; a man of ordinary 
 height might have stood erect beneath its 
 roof. The boat was filled with corn fore 
 and aft, excepting a small cabin on the 
 prow, which the captain had reserved for 
 his own accommodation. 
 
 " Put two cups on the table, and a 
 flask of the real, Nanny," said the boat- 
 man, addressing a little old woman of some 
 fifty years ; she might have been younger 
 — she probably was — it is wonderful how 
 exposure takes from the youth of a woman. 
 The little old woman rose from the only 
 chair in the apartment, and commenced 
 fumbling amid a heap of rubbish which lay 
 at her elbow, while the boatman, having 
 placed two rough stools before a table in 
 the centre, seated himself upon one, and 
 motioned me to the other. 
 
 " A snug apartment this !" said I, sur- 
 veying, with no small curiosity, its narrow 
 walls, garnished with many a string of 
 traced onions, bunches of beets, red pep- 
 pers, and other culinary plants. 
 
 " Very ; but large enough for my wants. 
 Young man, I am used to it. I have lived 
 in this 'ere sort of thing the better part of 
 thirty years, and have seen more happy 
 days in than out of it. Habit, nothin' like 
 it. From the day of my first trip, 1808, 
 never sailed in any other craft : wouldn't 
 do it." 
 
 " You might tell many strange things of 
 old times." 
 
 " Rather reckon I could. Saw the first 
 steamboat that descended the Mississippi : 
 it was of a fine frosty morning in the early 
 part of the month of January, 1812.* Lord! 
 how queer she looked. The wild water- 
 fowl, that used to consider me a kind of 
 one of themselves, were terrible frighten- 
 ed. I then thought there was an end o' 
 my trade, but steam hasn't affected me. 
 Yet it has killed the keelboats ; and I thank 
 Heaven for it. I always thought it a dis- 
 grace to human nature to, walk through 
 the world backward,! and have preferred 
 
 * The first steamboat upon the Mississippi arrived 
 at New Orleans from Pittsburg on the 19th of Janu- 
 ary. 1812. 
 
 + The keelboat, in ascending a stream, is pro- 
 pelled by means of poles of from twenty to thirty 
 feet in length. The boatmen, ranging themselves in 
 equal numbers on either side of their craft, thrust 
 one end of their slicks into the mud, and, placing the 
 other against the right shoulder, apply forpe suffi- 
 cient to move the heavy mass u['jii which they 
 Btand. Thus each passes successively from stem to 
 
 ■-: -i---» "i-'-iging his position, and with his 
 
 3 point towards which he is mo- 
 
 floating down in a thing like this. Sell 
 out ; bre?ik her up for the wood-yard ; take 
 my money, and walk over the ' Old Natch- 
 ez Trace.' " 
 
 " Have you, indeed, been a traveller 
 upon the ' Old Natchez Trace V It is a 
 famous track, and has many a wild legend 
 connected with its history." 
 
 " A traveller !" exclaimed the boatman, 
 with a leer out of the corner of his eye ; 
 "one hundred times, if once. And as for 
 legens, I think I can give ye an anecdote 
 which will please ye, and which I know to 
 be true." 
 
 I thanked my host, and expressed a great 
 desire to hear his story. 
 
 " We must drink first," said he, as the 
 little old woman placed two small tin dip- 
 pers and a flask upon the table. " My 
 name is Ebenezer Longfellow ; what 
 mought be yours !" 
 
 " Henry Didimus, at your service," said 
 I, somewhat surprised at the boatman's 
 abrupt move towards a better acquaintance. 
 
 " So so," replied the old captain, nod- 
 ding, and raising one of the dippers to his 
 lips, while he pushed the other towards 
 me ; " your health, Mr. Did'mus." 
 
 " Yours, Captain Longfellow." 
 
 " Have you ever drank better*?" 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " Then you shall have the story." 
 
 The reader will find it in the next chap- 
 ter. I have remodelled the boatman's 
 phraseology ; his incidents and descriptioa 
 remain unchanged. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A TALE OF THE OLD NATCHEZ TRACE. 
 
 " I have not ty'd myself to a literal translation ; 
 but have often omitted what I judg'd unnecessary , or 
 not of dignity enough to appear in the company of 
 better thoughts." — Dryden. 
 
 " If a history, so circumstantiated as that is, shall 
 be resolved into fable or parable, no history whatever 
 can stand secure." — Waterland. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 The Party enumerated. — Mode of travelling. — Mi- 
 chael la Flore. — The Forest. — The Deer. — Jowler. 
 —Gruff.— Tenor.— The Frenciiman's Wife.— The 
 Potation. — Camping for the Night. — The Robber. 
 — The Contest. — The Eclaircissement. 
 
 "It was a cold, overcast, drizzly morn- 
 ing of the month of March, 1816, when I, 
 with six companions, took friendly leave 
 of the ' Boatman's Retreat,' a very good 
 house of entertainment then standing under 
 
 ving. Schiller alludes to the same peculiar method 
 of navigation : " Er veschaffto den Schiffen aus 
 Gent, nicht nur einen sichern, sondem auch einen 
 Melhlick kiirzern VVeg zu den Spanischen Qtiar- 
 tieren, well sic nun nicht mehr nothig halten, den 
 weitliinsigen Krummniigen der Schelde zu folgen, 
 sondern bei Gent unniittelbar in die Moor tralen, 
 und von da aus hn Stfckcn durch den Kanal und 
 durch das iiber schwemmte Land bis nach Kalloo 
 gelangten." — Schiller, Balagerung von Antwerpen. 
 
10 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 the ' hiir at Natchez.* There were six of 
 «s : the two Pinis — twins, sir — looked so 
 much alike, couldn't distinguish one from 
 the other; only Ben was just about the 
 ugliest man I ever saw. Such a nose ! 
 I have seen it a mile off, and measured the 
 distance, on a wager. There were six of 
 us, with Ben's daughter, as stout, good- 
 looking a lass as you would wish to see 
 of a summer's day, bating her size, which 
 ■was rather under for one of her years." 
 
 " La, Eben !" exclaimed the little old 
 woman. 
 
 The boatman did not notice the inter- 
 ruption. 
 
 " There were the two Pims weis one, 
 myself was two, John Jones was three, 
 Eben's daughter was four, and Jeems 
 i(James) Wilson was five." 
 
 The boatman put his hand to his fore- 
 head. 
 
 " Certainly there were six of us," said 
 he, renewing the enumeration upon his fin- 
 gers. " Myself was one, Eben's daughter 
 was two, John Jones was three, the two 
 ■Pims was four, and Jeems — well, well, 
 there is a slip of the memory somewhere : 
 let that pass. We had a long journey be- 
 fore us, four hundred and eighty-seven 
 miles from Natchez to Nashville, accord- 
 ing to my reckoning ; but we were well 
 mounted on strong horses, and well armed. 
 We had five thousand dollars in the com- 
 pany, all in hard silver. The old ' Bank 
 t)f the United States' then had a ' Branch' 
 at Orleans ; but there were so many coun- 
 terfeits on its ' bills,' we would not trust 
 them. The five thousand we divided into 
 five parcels, enclosed each in a stout can- 
 vass bag, and, rolling them in our blankets, 
 made the whole fast to the pummels of our 
 ■saddles. When travelling, sir, always fast- 
 en your valise to the pummel of your sad- 
 dle ; the horse bears ir, better ; his loins are 
 aio place for an extra weiglil. We jogged 
 ?ilong, at an even pace of thirty-five and 
 forty miles a day, halting at the regular 
 stands, and meeting with no incident of 
 importance, other than straining our rifles 
 ■over a hollow of some six hundred yards 
 after a stray deer, which would at times 
 cross our path, or swimming a creek. 
 When you have occasion to swim a creek, 
 sir, draw but lightly on the reins — he will 
 keep his own nose out of the water — and 
 give hini his way. You will be the safer 
 for it. We passed Fort Gibson, Grindstone 
 Forge, Choctaw Line, Choctaw Good- 
 spring, Osborn's, Dinsmoie's, Breschin's, 
 Ward's, Doak's Stand, and Choat's.f and 
 on the evening of the fourth day drew up 
 at Little French Camp, before the door of 
 
 * The boatmen of 181C travelled the coast -road to 
 Natchez, or, crossing Lake Ponchartrain, started 
 from the small town of Madison. 
 
 + The names of the " stands" at that time upon the 
 ■« track" 
 
 Michael la Flore, a crooked-backed French- 
 man, who had moved in among the Choc- 
 taws, taken a squaw to his bed, and settled 
 down upon the track ; perhaps with the 
 hope of finding happiness among savage.s, 
 or, more probably, with the intention of 
 amassing a competence by selling the ne- 
 cessaries of life to travellers. The man 
 had some half dozen negro boys, runaways 
 from the low-country, caught and brought in 
 by the Indians, who hustled about us as we 
 dropped our bridles on our horses' necks and 
 dismounted, eased our beasts of their sad- 
 dles, and made each fast to a black-jack, 
 with a box nailed against its trunk to hold 
 corn. It was a beautiful site the French- 
 man had built upon. His house, a double 
 log cabin, stood upon a natural mound, 
 which fell ofl^'on every side to an even plain 
 of ten thousand acres. And the woods 
 about it, cleared of all underbrush (an In- 
 dian fire keeps that down), resembled long 
 vistas of finely-tapered pillars, with capi- 
 tals of living green, the wild vines twining 
 about their bodies, and hanging from top to 
 top, like festoons upon a triumphal arch ; 
 the ground beneath carpeted with flowered 
 velvet. There is nothing, sir, in the art 
 of the cities which can vie with the handi- 
 work of Nature in her deep woods ! Her 
 colouring is the rainbow, and the tracery 
 of her fingers lighter than the single web 
 that crosses your path at noonday, floating 
 and glittering in the sun. And then, if you 
 wander into her more inaccessible recesses 
 — where the seal of time is strong and vivid 
 upon everything about you ; where trees 
 of a century'.=^ growth lie prostrate, their 
 trunks in every stage of decay, heaped one 
 upon the other ; where whole forests have 
 crumbled into dust — you stand in the very 
 temple of God ! 
 
 " Pardon me, sir," continued the boat- 
 man, brushing aside the moisture which 
 glistened in his eye, " but when I refer to 
 my past travels in the woods, the same 
 sort of feeling will come over me as then 
 often unmanned me, as I trudged along in 
 solitude through some deep glen or dell, 
 thinking of Him who made these things. 
 
 " The Frenchman," said the captain, re- 
 suming his story, " was salting his cattle,* 
 of which he owned some hundreds, as we 
 came up." 
 
 " ' How do, Cap'n Longfellow' — I was an 
 old customer — ' how all do T Vat news 
 from Orleans 1 Valk into de cabine — Jean- 
 net, supper for six. You tam plack rascal, 
 vy you no pigger fire in de chimney 1 'tis 
 Mars» not July — vill you take a little vis- 
 key V 
 
 " The Frenchman's hcspitality was open, 
 if interested ; and we did not scruple to tax 
 it, knowing that a few hard dollars would, 
 in the morning, cancel the obligation. 
 
 * The expression will be understood by a farmer. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 11 
 
 That man, sir, was a true model of a land- 
 lord ; and if he had not buried his genius 
 in a forest, he might have attained emi- 
 nence in a city.* A large fire was soon 
 blazing upon the hearth. The evening was 
 cold, and we had come in well bundled up 
 in big coats and comforters ; but our outer 
 garments soon gave way to the genial in- 
 fluence of the heat, and all, excepting my- 
 self, sat lolling lazily over the backs of 
 their chairs, waiting the appearance of sup- 
 per. I had fallen into a brown study, and 
 stood, half conscious, watcliing the moon, 
 which had just risen, and was struggling 
 Tip through the forest, flinging a beam, now 
 and then, where the foliage was thinnest, 
 into the unglazed window before me. Her 
 orb was full that night, and one might see 
 a goodly distance into the wood. How 
 still it is, said I, involuntarily ; the wind 
 does not breathe, and nothing is to be heard 
 but the low moan of the air, which, like 
 the sea, is never hushed. As I spoke, a 
 deer sprang from his lair, and, with nose 
 erect, and its branching horns thrown back 
 so as to rest upon its shoulders, came lo- 
 ping in an even line directly towards me. 
 At another time I should have resorted to 
 my rifle ; but it had closed in towards the 
 settlement at night to avoid the wolves, 
 and I would not betray its confidence. It 
 is strange, said I, observing that the ani- 
 mal turned neither to the right hand nor 
 tlie left, but kept straight forward, as if de- 
 termined to make my acquaintance. The 
 report of a rifle struck sharp upon my 
 ear, the deer leaped into the air, and fell 
 dead beneath the window. My compan- 
 ions started from their seats. He is dead, 
 said I." 
 
 " ' Who V inquired they, pressing around 
 me. 
 
 " ' The deer.' 
 
 " ' Pshaw !' exclaimed a gruff voice from 
 ■without, ' you have won the bet.' 
 
 '' ' How !' replied a second, in tenor ; 
 * didn't hit him in the head, eh V 
 
 "'No!' said the one in gruff; 'wish I 
 had staked on the heart — tliat's my game !' 
 
 " ' Hush !' said tenor ; ' we are just under 
 the window !' 
 
 "'That shot will secure us a night's 
 lodging, I take it !' said gruff. ' Here, 
 Jowler! here, Jowler! .lovvlerl Jowler!' 
 and the voice died suddenly away, as if 
 the speaker had turned a corner of the 
 building. The next moment two men en- 
 
 * A descendant, perhaps a son, of the Frenchman 
 
 now lives upon the same spot. He was captain over 
 
 one portion of the Choctaw tribe of Indians prior to 
 
 their removal beyond the Mississippi ; but has since 
 
 become a planter of cotton, holds large possessions, 
 
 and was, a few years since, selected to represent the 
 
 county of Carroll, in which he resides, in the Legisla- 
 
 *■ '! tate. He is of mixed Indian and white 
 
 ' 1 illustration of the fact that the race is 
 
 :apable of civilization. 
 
 tered the room, followed by a large blood- 
 hound. 
 
 " ' Good-evening, gentlemen !' said he 
 of the gruff voice ; ' it is cold, and your 
 fire looks cheery !' Then, doffing a close 
 otter cap, he turned back from his fore- 
 head a mass of long, coarse black hair, 
 which fell, in heavy ringlets, almost to his 
 shoulders. Tenor nodded distantly to our 
 company, and, with much seeming bash- 
 fulness, imitated the example of his com- 
 panion, who had thrown himself into a va- 
 cant seat before the fire ; and for a few 
 minutes both were intently engaged in 
 ameliorating the temperature of their fin- 
 gers. 
 
 " Grutf was much above the ordinary 
 size, compactly built, with no superfluity 
 of flesh about him, but of muscle that might 
 have strung a tiger. His features were 
 massive, heavy, hard — harder than the 
 nether millstone — and they spoke his soul. 
 Tenor was a mere boy ; he had a girl's 
 face, and his hand was more like a wom- 
 an's than a man's; and his form, too, not- 
 withstanding the concealment of a rough 
 dress, was strangely light and airy. A 
 maid, just budding into womanhood, might 
 have thought him handsome ; but I do not 
 like to see in our sex the lineaments of the 
 other. Both the strangers were plainly, 
 rather coarsely dressed, in apparel fitted 
 to the season and the journey, and were 
 apparently unarmed, excepting a long rifle, 
 which the larger of the two seemed chary 
 of parting with, as he still held it reclining 
 within the hollow of his arm. 
 
 " ' Here, Jowler !' said Tenor. The dog 
 crouched beneath the boy's feet. 
 
 " ' You killed a deer just under the win- 
 dow V said I, addressing Gruff. 
 
 " ' Aha ! you saw that, did you ? A pret- 
 ty shot — two hundred yards by moonlight ! 
 The dog had got upon his track, and start- 
 ed him. He is a still creature, sir! makes 
 no noise — says nothing — does not open — 
 goes straight forward to his object. I al- 
 ways know when he has struck a scent, 
 sir; he stops, turns round, and looks up 
 into my face, as much as to say, " I have 
 found it !" ' 
 
 " ' A valuable dog that,' said I ; ' have 
 you any more of the breed "?' 
 
 "The stranger smiled. 
 
 " ' Well, well, jesting aside, you may 
 teach a dog anything! Here, Jowler!' 
 
 " The dog sprang to his feet, and eyed 
 his master. 
 
 " ' Take this rifle, and set it up in yonder 
 corner !' 
 
 " The dog grasped the rifle firmly by the 
 breech, held it erect, and walking sedately 
 across the room, set it up against the w-all 
 in the corner designated. 
 
 "'It is wet!' said the stranger, holdmg 
 out liis cap ; ' hang this over its muzzle I' 
 
 " The dog took the cap, and, crossing to 
 
12 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 the corner, dropped it upon the floor. Then 
 grasping the rifle as before, he brought it 
 down gently, fixed the cap as directed, and 
 replaced the weapon in its former position. 
 
 " ' I want that cap and rifle,' said the 
 stranger. 
 
 " The dog returned them to his master. 
 
 " ' And now, gentlemen,' said the stran- 
 ger, ' please to examine this breech ; the dog 
 knows that I am rather nice about the tool, 
 and would not be well pleased to see it 
 scarred.' 
 
 " There was not the mark of a tooth 
 upon it ! 
 
 " ' Will you now believe the dog knows 
 when to hold his peace V continued the 
 stranger, looking into my face with a leer. 
 
 " ' A rare animal that,' said I ; ' shall I 
 put you down twenty-five hard dollars for 
 himr 
 
 " 'Not a thousand." 
 
 " The door opened, and three black girls 
 brought in, sat out, and arranged the sup- 
 per-table — lighted by two boys bearing 
 huge torches of pitch-pine — a sort of can- 
 dle much used to this day. All was in 
 readiness, and waited only the coming of 
 the landlady. She soon made her appear- 
 ance ; a beautiful Indian of twenty years ; 
 tall, slim, regular features, a fine forehead, 
 piercing eye, high cheek bones, a mouth 
 like a bow, softly-moulded chin, and her 
 long, straight, black hair flowing upon her 
 shoulders and down her back like Eve's in 
 the picture. She moved along the floor, 
 her eyes drooping, like a fawn half tamed, 
 and, though inclined to trust, you looked 
 every moment to see her start aside and fly 
 off", from whim or fright. 
 
 "'And how is my lady since we last 
 met V cried the stranger in gruff, rising 
 from his chair and mechanically moving it 
 towards the supper-table,' while he fixed 
 his eye keenly upon the Frenchman's wife. 
 
 " An involuntary movement passed 
 through her frame as the voice struck her 
 ear ; and when she raised her eyes and 
 looked upon the speaker, they burned like 
 coals of fire. 
 
 " ' I was fearful,' continued the man in 
 gruff", ' that I should not settle for my fare 
 in the morning, after the usual way ; but 
 Jowler, who knows as much of his mas- 
 ter's wants as he does himself, started a 
 rare one just on the rise of the hill ; 'tis a 
 fat buck ; an inch on the ribs.' 
 
 " ' Me the gun hear ; me know your shot,' 
 replied the fair Indian, clothing the soft, 
 silvery tones of her voice in a smile. 
 'Will eat r 
 
 " We did not require a second invitation, 
 and were soon in the midst of the repast, 
 conversing at intervals of things in gen- 
 eral, the times, politics, trade, and the 
 Toad. We were going to Nashville, the 
 strangers were travelling in an opposite 
 direction, and were well pleased to have 
 
 fallen into our company, even for a night. 
 But there was something about the larger 
 of the strangers I did not like ; yet I could 
 not well tell myself what it was. His 
 hair looked unnatural — so long, thick, and 
 heavy — while the head of his companion 
 was shorn so close you could not have 
 lifted a lock with your thumb and finger; 
 however, the supper passed off" kindly, 
 and, after hanging an hour about the fire, 
 ' It is nine,' said I, addressing my party ; 
 'shall we camp^ Such was the custom 
 upon the road ; the stands were small, and 
 were at night wholly occupied by those 
 who kept them. The stranger in gruff 
 proposed a mug of warm whiskey before 
 separating. We would not decline the po- 
 tation. 
 
 " ' I have a trick at mixing which will 
 tickle your palates,' said the stranger, 
 taking the well-filled beaker from a slave 
 who had answered the call. 
 
 " The hot water and the sugar were added 
 openly enough — there was no secret about 
 it — yet when he filled and passed round, 
 there was a taste, a something I did not 
 relish ; it was like burned cork. 
 
 " ' Rather nutty, stranger,' said I. 
 
 " ' All the better ; the barrel was charred. 
 Always char the cask for good whiskey.' 
 
 " ' I thought so,' said I. 
 
 " He looked rather queer, but as Ben Prn, 
 who was esteemed a good judge in such, 
 matters, drank with a smack, ' I let it pass.' 
 
 " ' Did you drink your mug dry V said I to 
 Pirn, as we were making arrangements to 
 camp for the night. 
 
 "'Yes, I did.' 
 
 " ' I am sorry for it.' 
 
 " ' Why so V 
 
 " ' There was medicine in it.' 
 
 " ' Fudge,' said Pirn. 
 
 " ' I hope so,' said I, and turned away ta 
 collect a bundle of twigs for my bed. 
 Never spread your blanket on the naked 
 ground, sir ; the earth is always damp. I 
 knew a man who, by neglecting that pre- 
 caution, caught a disease which changed 
 him wholly to bone — head, body, limbs, and 
 all.* 
 
 " We slept on the leeward side of the rise, 
 with a fire at our feet to drive off the chill 
 air. The night was cold, and the wind had 
 begun to rise ; yet the broad sky was our 
 canopy, and we did not wish to lay our 
 heads upon pillows softer than our silver ; 
 it was safer there than elsewhere. Ben's 
 daughter was on one side of her father, I 
 was on the other. How she slept is a wan- 
 der. Ben's nose ! it was like distant thun- 
 der, sir. I have known it to shake a build- 
 ing from the roof to the cellar, and have 
 felt the jar myself. I looked a long while 
 into the blue heavens, and watched the sl- 
 
 * Professor Silliman, in his Travels, speaks of 
 similar facts, related to him by a collector of ana- 
 tomical preparations. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 13 
 
 lent stars, wondering why the lights of 
 some flashed, while others burned with a 
 steady flame ; that is still beyond my phi- 
 losophy. The owls answered each other, 
 as if conscious that their music grated on 
 my ears ; and the shrill cry of the wolf — 
 howl ! I have heard men say that a wolf 
 howls — such men, sir, never travelled in 
 the forests of Mississippi — and I had a sus- 
 picion hanging about me. It cost many a 
 turn before watchfulness gave way to wea- 
 riness ; but finally I, like the rest of my 
 company, sank into a deep sleep, Ben's 
 nose sounding in my ears like the hum of 
 a fly-wheel. 
 
 " Phew ! what a roar I it was like a young 
 bull's under the torture of the marking-iron. 
 ' The withered Frenchman has taken time 
 by the forelock, and is branding his cattle 
 by moonlight,' said I, half waking ; and 
 with a curse upon my lips against so hea- 
 thenish an operation, I was again fast sink- 
 ?ng into sleep, when I felt some one fum- 
 bling about my arms, as if he would have 
 put a cord about them. You may sleep be- 
 neath a thunder-cloud, sir, yet the settling 
 of a mote will wake you. I sprang to my 
 feet — the man in gruff' stood before me, 
 his left foot resting on Ben's nose ; it was 
 a mere chance — he did not intend it — he 
 could not well have avoided it, it was so 
 large ; his right advanced, and slightly 
 bending, as if just recovering from a stoop- 
 ing posture. In his hands he held a cord ; 
 there was no time to be lost ; his costume 
 had undergone a change since we parted, 
 and his side arms were hanging belted 
 about his waist ; mine were with my sil- 
 ver ; I had rested my head upon them ; I 
 closed with my antagonist ; he was strong 
 — a giant, sir ; but these limbs had then also 
 some strength." 
 
 The boatman rolled up the sleeve of his 
 jacket, and exposed an arm ridged with 
 muscle. 
 
 " I was a boy, then, of thirty-five ; now 
 I am sixty. The struggle was desperate. 
 When two men of courage and strength 
 are matched, there is something fearful in 
 the contest. Twice the stranger tugged 
 at his belt, and I as often prevented his at- 
 tempt to draw. We now stood like two 
 wrestlers skilled in the art — life dependant 
 on the fall. There was no trusting to the 
 little tricks of the ring, no relaxing of the 
 hold ; where the grasp once fastened it re- 
 mained. Every muscle strained, the veins 
 swollen, we stood, toe to toe, looking into 
 each other's eyes. This could not last long. 
 ' Cleante,' cried the stranger. He was an- 
 swered by a shrill whistle, and the boy in 
 tenor fell dead at our feet. The ebbing 
 life's-blood spurted high into the air, and 
 faUing, covered us like rain ; the dog stood 
 over his master and lapped the wound. 
 Our hands relaxed their hold, our arms fell 
 from each other. The stranger looked 
 
 upon the corpse, groaned, turned, and 
 fled. 
 
 " ' Send a ball after him, Eben,' said a 
 soft voice at my side. Ben's daughter 
 was there. With one hand she presented 
 a rifle, in the other she held a knife reek- 
 ing with blood. I raised the piece to my 
 shoulder — it never miscarried before : but 
 when one aims at a man, there is a blur on 
 the vision. ' And what is that on the knife V 
 said I to Ben's daughter. 
 
 " ' The boy's blood. Did you not hear his 
 whistle 1 1 awoke with the first cry of my 
 father, and watched every movement. The 
 larger stranger had bound all the company, 
 excepting you and myself, and I feared 
 lest you also were about to become his 
 victim. But when I saw you rise and close 
 with the stranger, I watched my time ; 
 the boy could not be far distant, and would 
 come when called. He did so, the dog 
 following close at his heels ; as he passed 
 where I lay, I sprang upon him, and buried 
 this blade in his side. The horses he held 
 when called yet stand, ready harnessed, 
 behind yonder tree.' 
 
 " One horse stood there ; the other was 
 gone. We unbound our companions, and, 
 with much shaking, brought them to a 
 knowledge of what had happened. We 
 then took up the youth's body, and carried 
 it within the house. The withered French- 
 man opened his coat to examine the wound, 
 and displayed the full, budding breasts of a 
 woman ! Yes, the boy was indeed a wom- 
 an," cried the boatman, starting from his 
 seat ; " the stranger in grufl^ was Joseph 
 Thompson Hare, who was finally hanged 
 at Baltimore, for a robbery of the United 
 States mail, in 1818 ; and my wife, in the 
 corner there, is Eben's daughter. Come, 
 Nanny," he continued, seizing the little old 
 woman by the waist, " step out, step out. 
 My wife, Mr. Didimus ; Mr. Didimus, Nan- 
 ny ;" and he kissed the little old woman 
 on each cheek, danced round her three 
 times, and, raising her in his arms, sat her 
 down upon his own vacant seat. 
 
 " To Nanny's health ! may she live a 
 thousand years !" cried the boatman, refill- 
 ing the dippers. 
 
 I drank the toast with a hearty sood 
 will. ^ ^ 
 
 " May we meet again," said I, stepping 
 upon the narrow plank which led from the 
 boat to dry land. 
 
 Captain Longfellow took my hand, press- 
 ed it more warmly than before, and bowed. 
 
 " Good-morning." 
 
 " Good-mornin'." 
 
 That man has lived from his childhood 
 upon the Mississippi. He knew every 
 winding and islet from the mouth of the 
 Ohio to the Gulf, long before the labours of 
 Fulton were appreciated. He has been 
 tiio architect of a hundred boats, has met 
 and mastered a thousand dangers, and de- 
 
14 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 livered a hundred cargoes in safety and 
 good order. Yet he is not rich, and never 
 was ; it is unnecessary to say, he never 
 will be. The freight disposed of, his tem- 
 porary habitation sold to the lumber-mer- 
 chant, or at the wood-yard, he would, in 
 times past, repair to the gaming-table, and 
 squander in a night tlie gains of months of 
 toil and danger; then turn, with a laugh, 
 a jest, or a song, shoulder his rifle, and plod 
 his weary way homeward, more than a 
 thousand miles, over long and dreary roads, 
 through dense forests, and along Indian 
 trails, to build anew, again embark, again 
 float down the stream, again sell out, again 
 gamble, and again plod — a ceaseless round 
 — thp horse at the cistern. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "We venture somewhat farther into this strange 
 land."— DaMPIEr's Voyages. 
 
 ARGUMENT. '"^ 
 
 The Levee continued.— Steamboats. — P'ultoii. — The 
 Bowie Knife.— Oysters.— An Irish Rc^vv.— Its Con- 
 sequences.— Mrs. O'Toole. — Shriving.' "'■- 
 
 I HASTEN over piles of lumber, old flues, 
 barrels of pork, and hogsheads of tobacco, 
 to that part of the quay which is most pe- 
 culiarly characteristic of New Orleans ; an 
 index of its future greatness : a living, vis- 
 ible story of what are its resources, and 
 what it is to be. The daily-increasing 
 cluster of merchantmen which lie moored 
 hard by, waiting a freight of pressed bales, 
 look as if they had deserted their fellows, 
 and strayed frorn their proper station. 
 Some few years sin<?6 a Yankee captain, 
 smarting under the inconvenience of a self- 
 ish French policy, bid defiance to the port 
 laws, cast off his hawsers, and, deserting 
 the French, bore away for the American 
 port of the city. Les Francais were thun- 
 derstruck. Should the Yankee's assump- 
 tion of " the responsibility" be overlooked 
 and the example become contagious, the 
 glory of their quarfer was gone forever. 
 But in the midst of the levying of fines and 
 the paying them, the city was reorganized 
 by legislative enactment, and the three 
 municipalities sprung into existence. Lit- 
 igation was dropped, and the Yankee per- 
 tinaciously retains his position with a now 
 numerous " sail" of backers. 
 
 " That part of the quay which is pecu- 
 liarly characteristic of New Orleans," I 
 mean the steamboat landiner Here all is 
 action ; the very water is c vered with life. 
 Huge vessels float upon us bosom, which 
 acknowledge none of the powers of air, 
 and wait no tide. One is weighed down 
 to the guards with cotton — a freight of 
 three thousand bales — one hundred and 
 eighty th(*iisand dollars ! Twenty more 
 lie side and side, laden with the same pre- 
 cious, gambling, national, ruinous com- 
 
 modity.* The twenty-first has just ar- 
 rived, and is puffing, blowing, and wheel- 
 ing in the stream, seeking a mooring. She 
 is covered all over ; a mountain of cotton ! 
 Docs its consumption keep pace with its 
 growth 1 What will be the effect of bring- 
 ing into cultivation all the productive land 
 of Mississippi, Arkansas, Alabama, Louis- 
 iana, and Texas 'if Terra ingens et Inter- 
 minata ! The southerner may well trem- 
 ble for the future : a market glutted, with- 
 out the possibility of a recovery from the 
 surfeit. The planter can never grow silk ,- 
 that requires a poor, dense, white popu- 
 lation ; and he can never grow wine, for 
 his soil will produce none but an inferi(;»r 
 grape, which will not cover the cost of 
 slave labour.J 
 
 Huge piles, bale upon bale, story above 
 story, cover the Levee. A gang of lusty 
 negroes is still adding to a heap of tea- 
 thousand — $600,000 — unguarded, unpro- 
 tected ; the winds fan it, the rains beat 
 upon it, the sun bleaches it, the bagging 
 and the rope rot and fall off; a consignee i 
 at Liverpool, who is accust9jTJ€id;to handl6'' 
 the commodity so preciously, would rwvi* 
 stark mad with imagining one half of whaft 
 is here to be seen. 't 
 
 Pork without end ; as if Ohio had emp-' 
 tied its lap at the door of New Orleans. 
 Flour by the thousand barrels ; rolled out 
 upon the quay, headed up, pounced up)On 
 by the inspector, who pierces each through 
 and through with a long hollow tubjfe-, ■ 
 well calculated to bring away his peV- " 
 quisites. A large area is covered \;^ith 
 these two products of the up-country, E^'d 
 still appears seemingly undiminished, ^ 
 though the seller, the buyer, and the dray-, 
 man are busy in the midst of it. ^" 
 
 H'ere is a boat freighted with lead from' 
 Galena ; another brings furs and peltry 
 from the head waters of the Missouri — A 
 three thousand miles to. the northwests'' 
 When I contemplate the Vast re'gion;^/" 
 country which is now just opening to cul^ 
 tivation, and of which New'Orleans is the 
 
 * Of all those who traffic in the raw material of 
 cotton, the grower .and manufacturer appear aloi)e 
 really to secure wealth. The great body of specular.' . 
 tors, after many reverses of fortune, generally retix.pf'' 
 irretrievably ruined. 
 
 t Texas, from the extent and superiority of its 
 soil, the congeniality of its climate, and the great 
 and daily increasing influx of population from the.^ 
 planting sections of our country, will probably, in lesS: 
 than a quarter of a century, send more cotton to mar- 
 ket than is now produced in all the Southern States. 
 
 X Wme has been attempted to be grown, with 
 equal want of success, in nearly all of the states; a 
 fact which would seem to demonstrate the unfitness 
 of our soil for its production. Upon the Continent of 
 Europe, two adjacent vineyards will produce wnnes 
 of a very different character and quality, thus proving- 
 that more is dependant upon locality than upon the 
 method of cultivation. 'I'he best wine of this coun- 
 try is grown in North Carohna; it posses.ses the 
 mildness and flavour of Muscat, without its cioymg^ 
 sweetness. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 15 
 
 natural mart, I find it impossible to set 
 limits to the city's future increase ; how 
 can I resist the conclusion that at some 
 and not very distant day northern prod- 
 ucts will be here collected in such quan- 
 tities as will reduce its present great staple 
 of export to an inferior rank in mercantile 
 importance.* 
 
 I could not have found an occasion more 
 appropriate than the present to speak of 
 the merits of that man who first applied 
 steam to navigation. The creations of his 
 genius are before me ; and I stand amid 
 the traffic of a city which owes its increase 
 mainly to the success of his labours. 
 
 It is not necessary to look abroad in or- 
 der to appreciate tlie extent of. the debt 
 which commerce, agriculture, every de- 
 partment of the business of life, owe to the 
 memory of Fulton. I will merely allude 
 to the nature of the carriage upon the Mis- 
 sissippi prior to 1812 ; to the sparsity of a 
 population scattered over immense tracts, 
 unsubdued by the arts of culture, and ex- 
 isting in a state of territorial dependance. 
 What was at that time a voyage of montiis, 
 performed with infinite toil and hazard, is 
 now but a voyage of days. The keelboat 
 is even retiring from the smaller water- 
 courses ; and where a few thousand miles 
 were traversed with much difiiculty and 
 small profit, steam now visits its thirty 
 thousand, scattering wealth throughout all 
 its path. A population of one million has 
 grown to seven millions ; towns and cities 
 have sprung into existence, and territories 
 have assumed the form of independent 
 states. There grows not a hill of corn 
 west of the Mississippi which may not be 
 referred to the labours of Fulton ; and of 
 the millions of our citizens, now enjoying 
 the benefit of life upon the banks of that 
 river and its tributaries, it is not too much 
 to say, that two thirds would never have 
 been blessed with existence, had not he 
 despised the scoffs of ignorance, and been 
 too conscious of the reality of his inven- 
 tion to be turned aside by charges of folly 
 and madness. He has made the great 
 Mississippi Valley what it now is ; and yet, 
 we may travel from the junction of the 
 Alleghany and Monongahela, orthe Springs 
 of the Mississippi, or the head- waters of 
 the Missouri, through a country which is 
 all his own, to a city which is indebted to 
 him for what it is, and for what it is to 
 be, without meeting a single monument 
 erected by gratitude,! and without hear- 
 ing his name once syllabled by those 
 
 * Unless the projected railroad from Charleston, 
 S. C, 10 Cincinnati shall create a new and success- 
 ful competitor for the mart of those products. 
 
 t .'^n intelligent foreigner lately asked whether 
 the city had yet erected a statue to Fulton. He was 
 refevred to the foot of Canal-street— the Steamboat 
 Landing— " Those are his monuments," said he, 
 " but you have raised them laiher for your own gain 
 than his honour !" 
 
 who are hourly reaping the harvest for 
 which he toiled. 
 
 I touch Canal-street, the dividing line 
 between the American and French inter- 
 ests. The population of the quay thick- 
 ens. The staple productions of the river 
 states lie piled about me in masses. The 
 huckster cries his wares, and a show-box 
 attracts the eye at every step, with its glit- 
 tering contents of old watches, gewgaws^. 
 Arkansas toothpicks, and bowie-knives. 
 
 " Do you visli to buy V cried a little, 
 thin-legged man, with a verjuice, coppery- 
 face, in a villanous Jewish accent. He 
 had watched my ej'e, and spoke, as he sawr 
 it rest upon his wares. 
 
 A beautiful bowie lay within his case, 
 mounted with silver. I pointed to the 
 weapon. 
 
 " Aha, you will kill," said Verjuice, 
 handing me the knife. 
 
 I drew the blade from its sheath ; it was 
 of excellent workmanship. 
 
 "It is best to have these things," said L. 
 
 Conscience said " No." 
 
 "The city's reputation is bad." 
 
 Conscience said " Fudge." 
 
 " One might find occasion to use them." 
 
 Conscience said, " It will be of your own 
 seeking;" and I returned the bowie to its 
 owner. 
 
 Perhaps there is not one among those 
 into whose hands these pages may rea- 
 sonably be expected to fall who has not. 
 seen a bowie-knife ; yet, as the opinion of 
 society, even here, appears to be rapidly 
 setting against its open exposure and sale 
 in the market, I may be permitted to give 
 the reader a hasty sketch of a weapon, 
 which will enter, largely into the story of 
 the. manners of our country, and be here- 
 after spoken of as the anomalous product 
 of an unsettled age, whose introductioa 
 into the West set the laws at defiance, and 
 retarded the progress of good order and re- 
 finement a quarter of a century. 
 
 Thp blade measures twelve inches ia 
 length, fashioned of excellent material — 
 the true Damascus was never better, lis- 
 edge is keen, smooth, and so perfect, a 
 barber might use it in his trade. The point 
 is curved and hollowed at the back, cutting 
 both ways, like a two-edged sword. It, is 
 two inches broad at the heel, and of pro- 
 portionate thickness. Its weight alone is 
 sufficient to give effect to a descending;, 
 blow ; and a child, thus armed, might well, 
 intimidate a man of strength and courage. 
 The Roman short-sword conquered the 
 world. The Turkish cimeter at ene time 
 threatened the liberties of Europe, and the- 
 destruction of Christianity. The bowie- 
 knife combines the superior qualities of 
 both its predecessors ; the downward blow 
 and home-thrust lopping a limb or piercing 
 the stoutest armour, and the light sabre- 
 stroke halving a silken cushion, or sever 
 
16 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 ing a*liead with an ease and rapidity which 
 leaves the hapless loser half nnconscious 
 of his loss. Among the many means in- 
 vented for man's destruction, it is the most 
 effectual in execution, the most fearful to 
 the sight and imagination ; and should its 
 right use and exercise ever be made a part 
 of the military education of our common 
 soldiery, it will render them the most for- 
 midable body of men that ever moved upon 
 a field of battle. 
 
 I walked forward. The clerks of the 
 boats, with little paper books in their 
 hands, and busily engaged in every direc- 
 tion discharging freight ; and the clerks 
 of the mercantile houses, also with little 
 paper books in their hands, are busily en- 
 gaged in every direction receiving con- 
 signments. 
 
 The houses themselves — the specula- 
 tors in corn, flour, pork, whiskey, and mo- 
 lasses (cotton, sugar, and tobacco are man- 
 aged elsewhere), are scattered sparsely 
 over the quay. Irish draymen, of whom 
 there are upward of two thousand in the 
 ■city, are driving to and fro, Jehu-like, break- 
 ing all the ordinances at once, cursing and 
 railing, lashing their poor beasts, and not 
 unfrequently, and with more propriety, 
 lashing each other. Oyster-houses, small 
 sheds, dot the inner margin of the quay. 
 They are supplied from the numerous lit- 
 tle bays which indent the gulf in the vi- 
 cinity of the Mississippi, yielding the fish 
 in immense quantities, and of a fine quali- 
 ty : citizens- of every class, tribe, and col- 
 our — the merchant and his clerk, the di- 
 vine, the lawyer, and the physician, the 
 captain and his crew, the hackman and his 
 patrons, the master and the slave — maybe 
 there found partaking of the luxury in ev- 
 ery form, fresh from the shell, fried, stew- 
 ed, and baked. 
 
 " An' och, my darlin', are you the child 
 to take away that same V. cries an Irish 
 cartman to his brother, who is raising a 
 barrel of flour to ^is dray. 
 
 " An' it is you, it is, that'll say no to me 1" 
 says the second, tugging at his load. 
 
 " If ye be a man, by St. Pathric and the 
 Yargin, I'll bate ye like a sack." 
 
 The barrel is dropped like hot iron ; 
 their loaded whips are shifted end for end 
 — to it, brave hearts — pellmell, clip clip, 
 tuck tuck, smash smash, their blows may 
 be heard at a distance of three squares ; 
 the battle thickens — the combatants in- 
 crease : Irish draymen spring up armed 
 from the ground, and take sides by instinct. 
 
 Sccvitque aniniis ignobile vulgus ; jamque 
 faces et saxa volant, furor arma ministrat ; 
 »he clerks close their paper books — the 
 merchant speculators give in to curiosity — 
 the poor negro, whose true position the 
 Irish labourer has usurped, and who hates 
 an Irishman as he hates death, yells joy 
 and grins approbation. Les gens d'armes, 
 
 a body of police, whose chief qualification 
 is to speak no language intelligibly, hover 
 in the distance — and this is a scene upon 
 the Levee. 
 
 An affray intoxicates an Irishman ; the 
 sound of blows acts like magic upon his 
 nerves. As some men, from long habit, 
 cannot resist the sweet enticements of 
 brandy, so an Irishman, however peacea- 
 bly disposed, cannot resist the allurements 
 of a row. The remark is based upon ex- 
 perience, upon the observations of travel- 
 lers, of men noted for their acuteness in 
 the estimate of character ; it is part and 
 parcel hdminis, without which an Irishman 
 would not be what he is. 
 
 There is a certain inborn, ingrained pro- 
 pensity, which urges him within the vor- 
 tex of rowdyism as mysteriously, and, 
 withal, as irresistibly as the magnetic prin- 
 ciple draws the needle to the pole. And 
 he is made of most endurable stuff. He 
 may be mauled from morning to eve, and 
 his intellects will appear all the brighter 
 for the castigation. He will come out of 
 the fight shaking his ears like a well-bred 
 bull-dog, swearing by St. Patric that he 
 has, as yet, had but a taste of the sport — 
 they do these things better in Ireland. He 
 will,.in the course of twelve hours, encoun- 
 ter more mishaps than befell Mendez Pinto 
 in as many years. " The Marquis of Water- 
 ford is a complete impersonation of Erin ; 
 and even his title is a bull," said I, closing 
 the train of thought which had naturally 
 sprung from the past scene of riot. 
 
 " In faith, my honey, is it nothin' at all 
 at all, to stand a botherin' o' bulls when 
 the sowl in a fellow-cratur is aboot lavin' 
 his body !" 
 
 I looked sharply around me, in search 
 of the owner of the voice which had so 
 uncourteously assumed the right of chiding 
 my meditations, and now first observed, 
 curled up under the lee-side of a heap of 
 paving-stones, something which had the 
 semblance of humanity about it. I ap- 
 proached, with some little misgiving, this 
 new object for my investigation, which lay 
 much like an opossum, feigning a total dis- 
 interestedness towards worldly matters, 
 and, after a close scrutiny of some min- 
 utes, was about giving over the examina- 
 tion to others, more skilled in the myste- 
 ries of natural history, when the animal 
 favoured me with a grunt, and, opening an 
 eye, enabled me to discover the true posi- 
 tion of its head. 
 
 "A sad case!" said I, sympathetically, 
 recognising in the lump before me a vic- 
 tim of the Iri-sh row. 
 
 The eye, which was red and fiery, an- 
 swered the remark more expressively than 
 words, and said, as plainly as an eye could 
 say, that, although it lacked the strength, 
 it had the will for a little more of the fun. 
 
 "Will you die here, or shall I remove 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 17 
 
 you to quarters more suitable to your con- 
 dition V said I, half suspecting that my 
 taciturn acquaintance was too far gone 
 to exhibit a second specimen of the voice 
 •which had first attracted my attention ; 
 but I was quickly undeceived in my specu- 
 lations. 
 
 " Thruly, yur ivery inch a gintlemin." 
 
 " Your name V 
 
 " Pathric M'Cormic, God bless yur 
 sowl !" 
 
 " And where do you live V 
 
 " Lave yur askin', is it 1 It's jist where 
 ye find me, I'm thinkin'." 
 
 " Where do you boards' 
 
 " Ach ! an' it's there ye are, my darlin' ! 
 it's the owld 'oman yur arter — an' a bluth- 
 erin' good body she is, with her two purty 
 ■eyes a blinkin' on each side her reth nose ! 
 it's whiskey that's the cause on't, it is — 
 but the dear crater is sober any day o' the 
 week 'cept sev^^.; The street, yur hon- 
 our — " and the Inslunan sank into a state 
 of insensibility. 
 
 There he lay, abandoned, neglected, un- 
 noticed ! The transient glance of the pass- 
 er-by, attracted more by the peculiarity of 
 my position — bending over the body, and 
 laying my hand upon its bosom, to discov- 
 er whether the heart yet beat — than by the 
 every-day spectacle of a mauled truckman. 
 
 " It is strange !" said I ; " I should have 
 supposed a sick dog might excite more 
 sympathy." 
 
 " Yoti are unacquainted with the city !" 
 said one, with a smile, and passed on. 
 
 A dray drove past — I called — the boy* 
 drew up. 
 
 " Where is your load ]" asked the boy. 
 
 I pointed to the body at my feet. 
 
 "Drive to street," said I, seating 
 
 myself upon the dray, and staying the 
 Irishman's head in my lap ; and away we 
 whirled up Canal-street, the rattling of 
 carts and carriages, the bustle of business, 
 the mingled voices of every language 
 drowning whatever expressions of pain 
 the sick man may have uttered. 
 
 " Drive slower." 
 
 " Can't help it, massa ; he won't hold in, 
 his mouth so hard." 
 
 " W'hy, you black rascal, you will jolt 
 what little of life there is in the man's body 
 out of it." 
 
 " Massa say I loo long carrying loads ; 
 must drive quick ; never fined. Make no 
 sposable diff'erence whether he white man 
 or goods," said the boy, turning to the left, 
 and shooting into an unpaved street, where 
 the soft path, yielding to the wheels, both 
 checked his course and eased the sick 
 man's couch. 
 
 " Dis be—" 
 
 The street was, as all the streets of New 
 Orleans were a few years since, and as all 
 
 * A male negro, whatever may be his age, is, 
 Ittiroughout the slave- holding states, called a "boy." 
 C 
 
 which have not been visited by the effects 
 of American enterprise are now, filthy, cut 
 up by deep ruts, lined on each side with a 
 narrow strip of stagnant water, and bor- 
 dered with low, one-story, frame-built 
 dwellings, whose roofs, old, covered M'ith 
 moss, jutting over the footpath, and doors 
 and window-shutters of solid timber, never 
 open,* impart to the whole a most sombre 
 and gloomy appearance. The Irishman's 
 reference was general, j^et I hoped to meet 
 with some one in the street who might 
 recognise the sick man, and direct me to 
 his lodgings. I had passed nearly through 
 its whole length, anxiously watching the 
 couiatenances of the passers by, and of 
 those who, at intervals, went into and 
 came out of the neighbouring houses, as 
 silent as the grave. 
 
 " It is a very still street," said I. 
 
 " You neber here in de night, I reckon, 
 massa," replied the boy, drawing up before 
 a row of unpainted, black, ancient-looking, 
 wooden buildings, which sat back some 
 thirty feet from the street, and were wall- 
 ed about by a high, close board fence, with 
 an entrance opposite each tenement. 
 
 " Why do you stop !" 
 
 "You no see her motion, massa V re- 
 plied the boy, pointing with his whip to a 
 large, burly Irish woman, who sat smoking 
 her pipe near the third door in the wall, 
 while a second was dipping mud from the 
 gutter and throwing it into the yard. 
 
 " Ask the good woman what she wants." 
 
 " Maybe it's no' the carcase iv Pathric 
 M'Cormic you'ld 'ave there ?" screamed 
 the old herridan. 
 
 I assured her, after the mildest manner 
 possible, that she was correct in her sup- 
 position, and that, as the man was very 
 much hurt, it would be a deed of charity to 
 show me his lodgings. 
 
 " Lodgin's ! It's lodgin's ye'd be arter? 
 The divil a bit, for the matter o' that, had 
 Pathric tasted these sax weeks agone, 
 'cept the floor o' his dthray. But I'm the 
 'oman that 'ates him, and you can jist come 
 in wid the dthrunkard." 
 
 I accepted the invitation, with many 
 thanks for her kindness, which so won 
 upon her heart, that she loaned me the 
 chair upon which she was sitting, to be 
 used for removing the sick man into the 
 house. As we stepped into the yard, my- 
 self bearing one end of the chair, the mys- 
 
 * Towards evening the rambler will find them set 
 just ajar, in a position which enables the quiet, un- 
 obtnisive inmate to catch upon the walls of his room 
 kaleidoscopic portraiiufes of the passers by. The 
 jealous customs of the early Sjjanish colonists yet 
 tinge the manners of the city's native population. I 
 have often admired, while strolling through the 
 French Quarter, the double doors, opening outward- 
 ly, and window shutters of thick plank, peculiar to 
 its dwellings; and have as often had my curiosity 
 excited by a brilliant eye, or a well-turned nose, cas- 
 ually presented before a modest opening of half an 
 inch. 
 
18 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 tery of the woman with the ladle was 
 solved. The whole area, with tlio excep- 
 tion of a narrow path, was covered with 
 filth, and fifteen or twenty hogs, of differ- 
 ent sizes and condition, were turning it 
 over, thrusting their snouts into it, blow- 
 ing, grunting, and eating; apparently well 
 contented to be thus fed. 
 
 " Where shall we lay him ?" said I, 
 somewhat puzzled to find an unoccupied 
 spot, in a room of moderate dimensions, 
 filled with filthy beds, old chairs, cooking 
 utensils, pickaxes, spades, and a mass of 
 trumpery beyond use, if not value. 
 
 " Adoon the floor ; an' softer bed he 
 never cared to lay his bones on," said 
 Herridan. 
 
 " Saftly, hinney ; saftly, saftly, Mrs. 
 O'Throole," said the sick man, as we lay 
 him upon the piece of mattress which the 
 thawing feelings of the old lady finally 
 prompted her to draw into the centre of 
 the room, and spread out for his reception. 
 
 " They ha' no bate the crook out o' yiz 
 throat, Pathric. O'Toole is no O'Throole, 
 ye baste." 
 
 The sick man groaned. 
 
 " Shall I call a physician V 
 
 " A physician !" repeated Mrs. O'Toole, 
 with a sneer, at the same time thrusting 
 towards me a chair, as a hint not to be too 
 quick in my movements. " I wid be plased 
 to set my two eyes on the man who is 
 betther than Mrs. O'Toole in that way. 
 Yiz no saw the 'oman, perhaps, wid sax- 
 teen sons all a dthrivin o' dthrays in this 
 blessed city, an' one dauther by Mr. 
 O'Toole that was. She's in owld Ireland 
 at this present time, the darlint." 
 
 The sick man screamed with torture. I 
 bent over him, and felt his pulse ; it was 
 feeble. I looked at his face. I had from 
 the first seen but one eye ; both were now 
 invisible. 
 
 " He is going!" 
 
 "Coin'! Where?" 
 
 " To the next world, I fear." 
 
 " The blessed Virgin ! and noo confess- 
 ed!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Toole, starting 
 from her seat. " I'll rin for a praste." 
 
 " I fear it is too late." 
 
 " I'll call a neighbour.'' 
 
 " Do." 
 
 Mrs. O'Toole returned, after a short ab- 
 sence, with the woman I had before seen 
 throwing mud into the yard, accompanied 
 by her husband and five or six children. 
 They arranged themselves in a circle about 
 the piece of mattress, and looked down 
 upon it in silence. 
 
 '' Pathric, my boy !" said the male comer. 
 
 The sick man did not answer. 
 
 " Pathric, my hinney 1" said the woman 
 ■who had dipped the mud from the gutter. 
 
 " Out of the way, ye baste," cried the 
 sick man, accompanying his words with a 
 motion of his liead, as if cracking a whip. 
 
 " It's the dthray he's dthriving, it is," said 
 Mrs. O'Toole, wiping her eyes with the 
 skirt of her gown. 
 
 " Pathric, my lad, yiz be no hurti" said 
 the male visitant. 
 
 Patrick made several attempts to ^eak. 
 
 " Thry it agin, my jewel," said the man, 
 
 " Dead," said Patric. 
 
 " An' ye no confessed !" exclaimed Mrs. 
 O'Toole. 
 
 " Call fadther— " said Patric. 
 
 " It's no forbotherin'," said Mrs. O'Toole. 
 I heartily coincided with the old lady. " Ye 
 will confess to Red ; an' it's all one as a 
 praste in extrimity." 
 
 " Ye'U no kirn blather with me," replied. 
 Patric. 
 
 He groaned. 
 
 Mrs. O'Toole beckoned Red, the male 
 visitant, to follow her out of the room. 
 When she returned, she put her finger upon 
 her lips in token of silence, and, winking 
 with each eye alternately upon the com- 
 pany, approached the piece of mattress. 
 
 " Here's a praste, good luck to ye, Path- 
 ric, my darlint." 
 
 " Is it fadther—" 
 
 " It's no jist him, but a better, Pathric ; 
 jist from the ould counthry, adown by Kil- 
 nadock ; Father O'Shiney it is, my dear." 
 
 " Wid ye confiss, an' throw up yer ugly 
 sins, my son V inquired Red, in an assu- 
 med tone. 
 
 " Be we wid ourselves V asked Patric. 
 Poor fellow ; he had given over all at- 
 tempts at seeing. 
 
 " Th' divil in the wide world else," replied. 
 Red. 
 
 " Is Mrs. O'Throole gone V 
 
 " Intirely." 
 
 "Thin, Fadther. O'Shiney, I'll jist begin 
 at the ind." 
 
 " If yir sure it's the right one." 
 
 The sick man attempted to turn over, 
 but was unable. He pointed to his mouth 
 Red moistened his lips with a mixture of 
 whiskey and water, and he made the dis- 
 closure which will be found in the next 
 chapter 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE IRISH.MAN's CONFESSION. 
 
 " For he had power of confession, 
 As saide himselfe, more than a curat, 
 For of his order he was licenciat. 
 Ful swetely horde he confession, 
 And pleasant was his absolution." 
 
 Chaucek. 
 " blissful God, that art no good and trewe, 
 Lo how that thou bewreyest mordre alway 
 Mordre wol out, that see we day by day." 
 
 Ibid. 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Shriving. — The Confession. — Mary. — The Death. 
 "My mother was an honest woman," 
 commenced the dying man. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 ir 
 
 " As is her son aflher her," said Red. 
 
 " An' dropped me in the hog in Avon, 
 where I lay sax weeks a suckiu' the swate 
 dews iv hivin." 
 
 " Och ! none o' yer blather ; would you 
 be made a saint, an' put in the calendar for 
 a miracle 1" 
 
 " My mother — " 
 
 "An' had ye niver a fadther at alii" 
 
 "He nistled in Abraham's bosom afore 
 the likes o' me was born." 
 
 •' An' ye kim into this sinful world a pur- 
 ty, cryin' orphin ; better luck to ye ; I'll no' 
 forget the consideration in fixing the spell 
 o' yer bastin'." 
 
 Patric groaned dismally. 
 
 " Wid ye no' quit blowin' like a stuck 
 pig, ye fool 1 confiss clare ; spake thruth, 
 an' I'll put out a bit o' the blaze." 
 
 " I was edikit in the thrue faith." 
 
 " Yer purty mother's a saint in hivin." 
 
 " An' became a unithed son of Ould Ire- 
 land, wid O'Connell the big." 
 
 " Bether and bether." 
 
 "An' kilt two Orangemen." 
 
 " There go two whole years off purga- 
 thory for that," said Red, striking his hands 
 after the manner of a cymbal. 
 
 " An' flid to Amirica." 
 
 " Jist the place for the like o' ye." 
 
 " Where they swore me a born native, 
 an' dropped me five dollars for my vote for 
 Prisident." 
 
 " An' who was the lucky man that got 
 itl" 
 
 " In thruth, an' that's more than I can 
 tell ; but he was born in Dublin, an' wrote 
 a big htther to Christ's Vicar, the Pope." 
 
 " Another year off purgathory." 
 
 " I thin was promoted." 
 
 " Aha !" 
 
 " At a dollar a day, an' perkesites." 
 
 " What might they be ?" 
 
 " Bein' carried to all the elections for a 
 hundther miles about, an' murphies found." 
 
 And thus the sick man appeared, in the 
 early part of his confession, more disposed 
 to be humorous than grave. Indeed, the 
 " ugly sins" he disclosed were so veiled in 
 excuses, and so interlarded with circum- 
 standtes extenuating their committal ; so 
 frequently interrupted by the adjudgment 
 of purgatorial penances, delivered ex cathe- 
 dra by Red, to be appealed from and set 
 aside by the dismal groans and whining 
 importunities of the criminal ; all clothed 
 in the richest brogue of old Erin, and often 
 set off with the choicest Irish bulls, that I 
 could, at times, have given in to peals of 
 laughter. 
 
 Patric had resided some months in 
 New York, where he opened his career by 
 throwing an illegal vote, as above intima- 
 ted, and ended it with committing many a 
 peccadillo which richly deserved hang- 
 ing. He subsequently visited this city, 
 and commenced " with dlhrivin a dthray ;" 
 
 and " was no' the boy to worse his condi- 
 tion." 
 
 " An' now I'll confess a thrue sin, if yer 
 sure Mrs. O'Throole is no hearin'," contin- 
 ued Patric, after a long pause, which may 
 be said to have appropriately divided the 
 former and more light, from the latter and 
 more serious, part of the shriving. 
 
 " Sorry one else thin ourselves," said 
 Red. 
 
 "You must know, Fadther O'Shiney," 
 commenced Patric, in an altered and more 
 sepulchral tone, and in a phraseology which 
 seemed to fall from the dying man's lips, 
 purified in proportion to the weight of 
 crime it revealed ; " You must know, Fad- 
 ther O'Shiney, that I loved a young worn- • 
 an in the ould country, who also loved me ; 
 an' whin she learned I was about to flid to ■ 
 Amirica, she kim to my mother's aa' 
 watched at the stile by the fince. 
 
 " There was no moon that night ; it was 
 sorry dark ; so I cript from my hiding- 
 place, an' kissed my poor ould mother for 
 the last time, an' received her blessin' upon 
 my head. ' May St. Patric keep you,' said 
 my mother. I dropped upon my knees be- 
 fore her an' prayed. Fadther O'Shiney, I 
 have not prayed since. 
 
 " ' Pathric,' said a voice I knew full 
 well, as I stepped over the stile. 
 
 " ' Well, Mary V " 
 
 Mrs. O'Toole started and changed col- 
 our. 
 
 " ' It's kind o' you to watch here alone 
 for the partin'." 
 
 " ' Pathric,' said she, ' you must make 
 an honest woman of me before you go, for 
 the swate little crature will come laughin" 
 into the world before you have half cross- 
 ed the water.' 
 
 "But there was no time for doing such a 
 thing when the heritics were hot upon the 
 scent ; so I quieted the girl by promises 
 of writin' and sendin' for her whin I should 
 be safe in a land o' liberthy. 
 
 " ' May the great God bless ye, an' the 
 one that is to be yours,' said Mary. 
 
 " I did not speak, for the words choked 
 in my throat ; an' whin I put my face to 
 hers, our tears mingled ; it was a weak- 
 ness, Fadther O'Shiney, which I am not 
 ashamed of. I came to Amirica an' forgot 
 the girl. I did not write, neither did I 
 hear from her ; an' I had hoped she was 
 dead, whin, about a month since, as I was 
 dthrivin' my dthray home for the night, 
 who should stand by the door but Mary ! 
 I knew her, but she was awfully changed ! 
 She was the purtiest girl in all Killarney 
 whin I parted with her by the stile ; the 
 smallpox had since done its work. ' Mary,' 
 said I, irresolute what course to pursue. 
 
 " ' Ah, Pathric ! Patluic !' said she ; ' have 
 f followed you over the broad seas, an' 
 thravelled two thousand miles, the larg- 
 er part of the way on foot, to look on him I 
 
2a 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 love, an' will ye not kim down from the 
 dthray to welcome me V 
 
 " ' An' wliose is that swate little jewel in 
 your arms, Mary T 
 
 " ' An' whose should it be, but yer own, 
 Pathric 1 It's bether than a year old ; I 
 have brought it in my arms that you might 
 look on it.' 
 
 " I got down from my dthray an' kissed 
 the child ; but I could not kiss Mary. She 
 understood it, an' her tears flowed i'ast. 
 
 " ' I have not come to ask you to marry 
 me, Pathric,' said she ; ' I did hope that 
 once, but disease has so changed me that 
 I can't expect your love. But this child is 
 yours, Pathrick, an' I wish you to acknowl- 
 edge an' keep it.' 
 
 " It was eight o'clock in the evening, an' 
 the devil stood at my elbow. ' An' if I do 
 not acknowledge it, will ye swear it before 
 a justice, MaryV 
 
 '" I must, Pathric' 
 
 *' I took my horse from the dthray an' 
 put him up for the night. ' An' now, Mary,' 
 said I, ' let us walk to the edge of the river, 
 ■where we can see the boats glidin' up and 
 down; we will there talk over the matter.' 
 Mary put her arm within mine ; we walked 
 to the ind of one of the wharves, an', sit- 
 tin' down, talked till late in the night. 
 
 " ' It's cold ; I must go. I'll see ye in 
 the mornin', Pathric,' said Mary, wrappin' 
 an ould cloak about her wasted body, an' 
 huggin' her child to her bosom. 
 
 " The hour was still — there was no one 
 about us — the lamps of the city burned 
 dim — the face of the Mississippi was un- 
 ruffled — I could feel the mighty river sweep 
 past in its course — the bells of the boats 
 an' shippin' struck the middle watch. 
 
 " ' Mary.' 
 
 " ' Well, Pathric' 
 
 " ' Did you ever do any great sin V 
 
 " She trembled an' pressed the child clo- 
 ser to her breast. 
 
 "'Then kneel down here with me, an' 
 let us ask the good God to forgive us.' 
 
 " * An' shall the cmld kneel also V 
 
 " ' No, it was no sin of his ; clasp it to 
 your bosom, Mary.' 
 
 " We knelt. She prayed. 
 
 " ' Do you think we are forgiven, Mary V 
 
 " ' I hope so,' she replied ; an' risin', I — " 
 
 There was the sound of the rattle in the 
 dying man's throat. 
 
 " Plunged her, as she knelt pray in' for 
 me an' the little one, into the bosom of the 
 Mississippi. There was a splash ; the cry 
 of a child ; a bubble ; an' the river swept 
 on." 
 
 "What may be the young woman's 
 nameV asked Red, after a long silence, 
 and choking in his utterance. 
 The rattle was again heard. 
 " Mary O'Throo— " 
 
 Mrs. O'Toole staggered; she would 
 Jiave fallen had I not supported her ; she 
 
 attempted to speak ; her utterance was 
 broken, disconnected, indistinct. 
 
 The dying man became conscious of our 
 presence and screamed. 
 
 "Hellhound!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Toole, 
 recovering her strength, and springing like 
 a tiger at the dying man's throat. She lay 
 upon him, with her hands clutched about 
 his neck ; his face became livid ; we hast- 
 ened to release her hold ; the man was 
 dead. 
 
 " Shall I call a coroner V 
 
 " An' is it no' a nat'ral death that he 
 diedV 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Let us do justice." — Jones. 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Police.— Better Order of Things. — To be attributed 
 to American Influence. — The Division of the City 
 into three Municipalities.— Its Effects. — The Ed- 
 itor of the " True American." — Saxon Race. 
 
 The incidents related in the preceding 
 chapter naturally lead me to speak of the 
 police of a city which enjoys, even at 
 home, a rather questionable reputation for 
 good order, and whose name abroad is held 
 synonymous with midnight robberies and 
 assassinations. That there was a time 
 when much of what is said of the dangers 
 of New Orleans — its desperate population, 
 its ineflicient police, the inactivity of the 
 administrators of its criminal jurispru- 
 dence — was true, is proved by the very ex- 
 istence of prejudicial opinions now gen- 
 erally entertained, and not lightly resigned, 
 by those who have not visited our city 
 within the last ten years, and who were 
 accustomed to see the gaming-table spread 
 "by authority" at the corners of our prin- 
 cipal streets, and to hear the ringing of 
 silver, as the stakes were lost and won, at 
 all hours of the day and night. But that 
 time has passed by, and, as one somewhat 
 acquainted with all the leading cities of 
 our country, I hope 1 may be entitled to 
 belief when I say, that I know of none 
 whose citizens deserve a higher character 
 for order and general propriety of conduct, 
 or whose thoroughfares are stiller to the 
 ear, and safer to the stranger after night- 
 fall, than that of which I am writing.* 
 
 * Of the large number accused of every variety of 
 crime, aiKl annually arraigned l)efore the Cnminal 
 Court of New Orleans, but a very small portion are 
 connected with the city by residence or business. 
 The darker crimes are mostly perpetrated by foreign- 
 ers freshly imported from the prisons of Europe, or 
 by such of the citizens of the river states as. having 
 been long accustomed to a life subjected to little re- 
 straint, suppose that here even such slight checks 
 upon vice as they have been made acquainted with 
 are wanting. For the crimes of such persons, whose 
 characters were formed elsewhere, the resident cit- 
 izens of New Orleans are not answerable. The quiet 
 and security of the city after nightfall is a subject 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 21 
 
 This extraordinary change of things is 
 mainly to be attributed to the moral influ- 
 ence of that portion of the city's popula- 
 tion which is strictly American, or of Eng- 
 lish descent. It will be seen, by reference 
 to a note introduced in my first chapter, 
 that the prosperity of New Orleans is to be 
 dated from the day of its purchase from 
 France ; and that its progress in popula- 
 tion, wealth, and good order, has kept even 
 pace with American immigration. It is 
 difficult to eradicate old evils, and it re- 
 quires many years to correct the vicious 
 habits of a whole people ; it has not, there- 
 fore, been, until within the last ten years, 
 that the city has been relieved from those 
 scenes of violence whose memory even 
 now colours its reputation, and makes 
 vogue the reports of transient visiters, 
 who judge without examination, and give 
 to the world as facts the results of a mor- 
 bid imagination. 
 
 No event has, of late years, so much ad- 
 vanced the prosperity of New Orleans as its 
 division into three municipalities, giving to 
 each a separate municipal government, with 
 all its attendant powers. This partition has 
 enabled the American portion of our pop- 
 ulation — whose interests lie almost wholly 
 south of Canal-street — to transact business 
 after their own way, untrammelled by 
 French legislation ; and to expend, in the 
 erection of public buildings, in the improve- 
 ment of streets, in a more effective organi- 
 zation of the police, those taxes which 
 were before exacted without an adequate 
 return. The gentleman who first project- 
 ed an arrangement which has judiciously 
 separated the clashing interests of the 
 American and French population, and 
 which gives to the rival energies of each 
 free scope for action, has, as yet, received 
 no reward adequate to his services — I speak 
 of the editor of " The True American" 
 newspaper — " Faithful and Bold" — a mot- 
 to which possesses the extraordinary merit 
 of being characteristic of the man who has 
 adopted it. But it is of the nature of free 
 institutions to forget the individual bene- 
 factor, in an anxiety for the general weal ; 
 and perhaps that quality in their constitu- 
 tion, which subjects them to the charge of 
 ingratitude, is the sole source of those hap- 
 py results which have rendered our histo- 
 ry one of unexampled prosperity. The 
 same power is everywhere at work; and 
 if the march of improvement, which is so 
 plainly observable at New Orleans, is not 
 equally obvious throughout the state, it is 
 because its effects are here compressed 
 within a narrower compass. 
 
 There is among the moderns but one 
 race of men who have shown a capacity 
 
 of surprise to every stranger, who finds all his pre- 
 conceived notions in this respect falsified, and learns 
 that the tales of violence so rife abroad are not less 
 applicable to New York than New Orleans. 
 
 to perfect, by practical application, those 
 great discoveries in science which distin- 
 guish the last few centuries : it is the An- 
 glo-Saxon. That race alone colonizes 
 with success, and never recedes from the 
 soil upon which it has once placed its foot. 
 The very spot upon which I now stand 
 has felt the successive feeble rule of the 
 Spaniard and the Frenchman, only to pass 
 into the possession of a people who, un- 
 like their predecessors, grow stronger with 
 age ; and who, rather than curtail their 
 wants, create the means of supplying them. 
 But if the Anglo-Saxon, like the ancient 
 Roman, is remarkable for the develop- 
 ment of those solid qualities which are 
 the architect of national and individual 
 greatness, he is wanting in the more deli- 
 cate perceptions of taste, which refine the 
 manners as well as perfect the productions 
 of art and literature ; and he seems to halt 
 as far behind the Sybarite, in the conven- 
 tional courtesies of society, as he outstrips 
 him in action. I cannot better illustrate 
 the above remark than by inviting the 
 reader to dine with me at my hotel. 
 
 The clock is striking upon 3 P.M., and 
 the passage leading to the dining-hall is 
 filled, jammed, wedged in, with hungry 
 expectants. The gong sounds, and the 
 wedged mass shoulders itself into the 
 room. If you step upon your neighbour's 
 heel, there is no time for begging his par- 
 don ; and if he disarranges your dress, you 
 cannot expect the compliment in return. 
 The chairs of a very long table are all 
 filled, and nothing is heard but the hurry- 
 ing to and fro of servants, and the clashing 
 of knives and forks, and the other colabor- 
 aters of mastication. It is wonderful in 
 how short a time these things may be done ! 
 Five minutes are long enough for a business 
 man to devour his dinner ; and it is not 
 until his appetite is somewhat blunted that 
 he indulges in the sweet enjoyments of 
 table-conversation. Then, indeed, the in- 
 tercourse of intellect commences, and con- 
 tinues to increase in a geometrical ratio, 
 until a confused murmur, with a word, or 
 even a whole sentence, at times distin- 
 guishable, alone fills the room.* The ex- 
 emplification deserves a separate chapter. 
 
 * A late female writer upon the manners of the 
 Americans has been accused of painting a caricature, 
 and holding it up to the public as a picture of socie- ^l 
 ty as she found it in the United States. I believe no-j 1 
 unprejudiced American who has visited the same 
 places, and conversed with the same people which. 
 M rs. Trollope visited, and with whom she conversed, 
 will question the truth of her pencil. The men and 
 the manners which she has so vividly portrayed ex- 
 ist ; the error which she has committed is one of ex- ._ 
 tension, springing out of an illogical reasoning from ip 
 particulars to generals. She has asserted that to be 
 common to our whole country, which is only to be 
 found in confined sections, and draws portraits of 
 Boston after sittings at Memphis. 
 
-22 
 
 NEW ORLExVNS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "Talking is not always to converse." — Cowper. 
 
 " Talkativeness is greatly to be preferred to tacitur- 
 nity, both for our own and others' pleasure." — Knox. 
 
 " I believe those men who possess brilliancy of 
 conversation in the highest degree are such as do not 
 advance beyond elementary truths." — Stewakt. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Table-talk. — The Respectable-looking-old-Gentle- 
 man. — Prospects of the City. — '■ Bob." — City of 
 Alabama. — Town-projecting. 
 
 " Beans !" says one. 
 
 " Sugar !" cries another. 
 
 " Lead—" 
 
 " Five thousand sacks of corn — " 
 
 " The Mogul, freighted with flour — " says 
 a snub-nosed man, in a mealy coat, at the 
 head of the table. 
 
 " Sold fifty hogsheads of medium tobac- 
 co, at one half per cent, advance," cries a 
 long, thin-nosed man, with lips steeped in 
 ambia, at the opposite extremity. 
 
 " What do you think of the ginseng V 
 asks a gentleman in red hair and whiskers, 
 some six chairs off at my right. 
 
 " A better bargain than the furs," replies 
 another gentleman, in a dirty shirt-collar 
 and new stock, some six chairs off at my 
 left. 
 
 " I trust that molasses was not sour," 
 observes a neat, dapper, bandbox little man 
 of forty years, with a very broad ruffle at 
 his bosom, edged with thread lace, as were 
 liis wristbands. 
 
 " I knocked the hides down at twenty 
 cents," cries a large, brawny, red-faced per- 
 sonage, bringing his fist down upon the table 
 until it rings again, as if to enforce the fact. 
 
 " Can we trade for that shot V asks a 
 mere youngster of fourteen years, picking 
 his teeth with a fork. 
 
 " I think I'll try the other speculation, 
 and buy lard," replies an old, white-headed, 
 greasy-looking gentleman of sixty. 
 
 "And how did you like the bagging?" 
 cries a large-boned Kentuckian, in green, 
 to his factor, in bl^3, hardly within hailing 
 distance. 
 
 " The rope was better," replies Blue, 
 "but don't touch bees' wax." 
 
 " Candles are running down, and soap is 
 almost nothing," observes the dirtiest man 
 at the table. 
 
 " Colonel, suppose we exchange ; my 
 
 lime for your shingles." 
 
 /,"'^i, " Can't do it, unless you take the staves," 
 
 *■* '' replies the colonel, who might be taken 
 
 for a carpet-weaver, and would sit a horse 
 
 like a bag of wool. 
 
 " Lost a thousand on butter ; but oats 
 are quick." 
 
 " Feathers and flaxseed — " 
 
 •' Pickles—" 
 
 " Cheese — " 
 
 " Sell your beer and castor oil to — " 
 
 " This is not much of a market for leath- 
 er " remarks a long, thin-faced man, whose 
 
 skin hangs about his countenance in folds, 
 and looks much as if it had passed through 
 one of his own pits. 
 
 " And buflfalo-robes merely stop to be 
 reshipped," says a gentleman with a very 
 ashy visage, and who is seized witli a fit 
 of the ague as he closes the obsei-vation. 
 
 " And what do you think was his first 
 shipment ■?" asks a thick-set, coarse-look- 
 ing fellow, with his knife and fork, one in 
 each hand, upright, the butt-ends resting 
 on the table. 
 
 " Wouldn't undertake to say," drawls out 
 his counterpart, sipping brandy and water 
 
 " Hay and vinegar," replies the gentle- 
 man of the knife and fork. " The first mus- 
 ty, and the other as flat as my hand," suit- 
 ing the action to the word. 
 
 " Rum," cries a man with a very brill- 
 iant countenance. 
 
 " Ale," says another, with a large belly. 
 
 " Coal—" 
 
 " Wheat—" 
 
 " Twine—" 
 
 " Iron—" 
 
 " Deerskins — " 
 
 " Will you do me the honour to drink a 
 glass of wine with me ?" said I, pushing 
 my bottle towards a respectable-looking 
 old gentleman who sat opposite. 
 
 The respectable-looking old gentleman 
 accepted the compliment. 
 
 " Win you be pleased to inform me, sir, 
 of the cause of this ceaseless reference to 
 many of the articles of trade and staples 
 of life, in which the whole table appears to 
 be so intently engaged T' 
 
 " These men," replied the respectable- 
 looking old gentleman, "are planters, farm- 
 ers, merchants, and merchants' clerks, en- 
 gaged in buying and selling the produce of 
 the up-country and the coast, and are con- 
 versing with each other on matters of bu- 
 siness." 
 
 "And does the country lying upon the 
 Mississippi produce, and send to this mar- 
 ket, all the products I have here heard enu- 
 merated V 
 
 " Upon the Mississippi and its tributa- 
 ries. But you, who have visited the Valley 
 of the Mississippi but yesterday, and found 
 the arts of husbandry already introduced, 
 and in active operation throughout a great 
 and fertile extent of country, have no rea- 
 son to be surprised that this city, its natu- 
 ral outlet, should exhibit a population, a 
 concentration of capital, an activity, a ca- 
 pacity for business unexampled in the his- 
 tory of commerce. Situated upon the 
 largest river in the world, with tributaries 
 having their sources in distant regions, 
 commanding already the trade of twelve 
 provinces, with a stretch of country from 
 which may be created twelve more, its 
 destiny is illimitable. The world has yet 
 seen no city with its natu ' 
 and the time will come v ■ " 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 23 
 
 liave seen one more numerous in popula- 
 tion or greater in wealth." 
 
 " Smoke him," said one on my left. 
 " He's on his hobby," replied the person 
 addressed. 
 
 " I have watched the growth of this city 
 from its kernel," continued the respectable- 
 looking old gentleman, " ever incredulous, 
 astonished, and momentarily expecting a 
 reverse. It has kept steadily onward, un- 
 til no accident, other than a change in the 
 course of the river which feeds it, can stay 
 its progress." 
 
 " The old rat !" exclaimed the person on 
 my left. 
 
 " How he soaps him," said the other. 
 The respectable-looking old gentleman 
 scowled as if he had caught the last remark, 
 and went on. 
 
 " Sir, I remember when the sites upon 
 ■which now stand our finest buildings, and 
 the very places over which now run our 
 most business streets, were a mere mire, 
 a bog, a frog-pond, sir ; and might have 
 been bought for a song. Had I then fore- 
 seen the things which were to be, I might, 
 at this moment, have been the possessor 
 of millions. The rising generation may 
 profit by the short-sightedness of the past," 
 said the old gentleman, drawing from his 
 side-pocket a neatly-folded paper. 
 
 " Now for it," said the one on my left. 
 " A rare farce," replied his neighbour. 
 " This plan," continued the respectable- 
 looking old gentleman, unfolding the paper, 
 and spreading it out before me upon the 
 table, " will convey to your mind a faint 
 idea of what is to be the central point of 
 the business of New Orleans. I may not 
 see it ; you will : yes, you will. I am an 
 old man, without direct heirs ; no other con- 
 sideration would induce me to part with an 
 estate of such immense value in prospect 
 — mark me, in prospect — with the present 
 I have nothing to do — it is the great future 
 I look at." 
 
 The respectable-looking old gentleman 
 paused, and contemplated with much ap- 
 parent satisfaction the elegant lithograph 
 which gave the metes and bounds of the 
 landed estate he spoke of. It was a well- 
 executed plan of a well-laid-out city. The 
 streets had their names, even the houses 
 were numbered, and the public squares sha- 
 ded with a luxuriant growth of the most es- 
 teemed ornamental foliage ; while church- 
 es and public buildings innumerable dot- 
 ted its surface, like islets upon a mariner's 
 chart. I had supposed I had already vis- 
 ited the different parts of the city, but the 
 map before me induced me to conclude 
 there was one, and that the most impor- 
 tant portion, which had escaped my obser- 
 vation. 
 
 " Will you be so kind, sir," said I, " as to 
 inform me whether these streets, squares, 
 and blocks of buildings lie in the German, 
 American, or French part of the city?" 
 
 " Excellent !" cried the man on my left. 
 
 " Sir, this is a map of neither of those 
 suburbs,'''^ replied the respectable-looking 
 old gentleman, '• but of what is to be the 
 heart of the city. That theatre, sir, Le 
 Theatre des Langues, so called from its ad- 
 mitting on one and the same night repre- 
 sentations in each of the five languages spo- 
 ken by our motley population ; that theatre 
 will stand on the lot now occupied by the 
 ' Red Church.' " 
 
 " The Red Church !" I exclaimed, in as- 
 tonishment ; " why, sir, that is twenty-five 
 miles up the coast!"* 
 
 The one on my left, and his neighbour, 
 burst into a shout of laughter. The re- 
 spectable-looking old gentleman eyed me 
 for a moment, shook his head, gathered up 
 the map, refolded it, replaced it in his side- 
 pocket, and, as he rose from the table, ob- 
 served, " Some of us may live to see the 
 city mingle with Natchez !"t 
 
 There was a great noise at the entrance 
 of the Hall ; a confused mingling of voices 
 — loud talking : " How are ye, Ned V 
 " Right hearty, my dear boy." " Ah ! how 
 are ye, Bob^" together with many other 
 similar interesting questions and answers. 
 The noisy group ascended the room, and, 
 as it approached the respectable-looking 
 old gentleman, a young man, who wore 
 his hat on one side, with an immense breast- 
 pin, and a large chain hanging from his 
 neck, and festooned about the button-holes 
 of his vest, sprang from among his com- 
 panions, and seizing the old gentleman's 
 hand, gave it three hearty shakes. 
 "How are ye, old-stick-in-the-mud?" 
 
 * The banks of the Mississippi, within the State 
 of Louisiana, are always spoken of as "The Coast." 
 t New Orleans is yet in its infancy ; what may it 
 not be when the States of the Valley of the Missis- 
 sippi, its tributaries, have developed all their re- 
 sources? Cordova, the seat of the Omrniads, say 
 the historians, occupied a space of twenty four miles 
 in length and six in breadth, along the margin of the 
 Guadalquiver ; and for ten miles the citizens could 
 travel by the light of lamps along an uninterrupted 
 extent of buildings. Surely New Orleans will some 
 day be greater than Cordova has been. But we must 
 distrust the historians when speaking of the extent, 
 the population, or the wealth of ancient cities. El- 
 macin computes the value of the gold and silver, the 
 various wardrobes and precious furniture which fell 
 a prey to Saad when he sacked the Persian capital, 
 Madayn, at 3,000,000,000 pieces of gold ; notwith- 
 standing the Persian monarch, foreseeing the fate 
 which awaited his metropolis, fled to Jelwallah, ta- 
 king with him his family, and the more valuable of 
 his effects. " If we take" each of these pieces at the 
 value of a dionar," says Crichton, " then the whole 
 will be equal to £ J, .387, 500,000 sterling, exceeding, 
 by X139, 159,375 sterling, the total value of gold and 
 silver extracted from the mines of America between 
 the years 1499 and 1803, a period of 304 years. But 
 when we take into account the difference in the 
 value of money then and now, the whole produce of 
 all the gold and silver mines on the globe would not 
 amount to that sum in lfX)0 years." A computation 
 which, notwithstanding Crichton's sneer at the skep- 
 ticism of Gibbon, effectually confutes itself. As a 
 general rule, we should always divide by ten, when 
 reading the historians of past centuries. 
 
24 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 *« Why, well— well, Bob, w^ell. Glad to 
 see you. Have you done anything ?" 
 
 " Done anything ! I should rather reck- 
 on I have, if fifty thousand dollars are worth 
 looking at." 
 
 The respectable-looking old gentleman 
 brightened up. " Fifty thousand dollars !" 
 said he, examining the young man with 
 the large chain and immense breastpin 
 from head to foot ; " did you touch any 
 money, Bob ?" 
 
 " All paper," replied Bob. 
 
 The respectable-looking old gentleman 
 looked disappointed. 
 
 " Good, though," continued Bob. " Cred- 
 it from one to twenty years, with a mort- 
 gage on the lots — purchasers must build 
 before they die, or forfeit." 
 
 A crowd gathered about the two wor- 
 thies, and the respectable-looking old gen- 
 tleman thrust his hand into his side-pocket. 
 
 " Can you inform me, sir," said I, turn- 
 ing to the person on my left, " who that 
 respectable-looking old gentleman is 1" 
 
 " A well-known character in this city," 
 replied the individual addressed, smiling 
 condescendingly. " The projector of Un- 
 cle Sa7n, an imaginary town lying in the 
 piny woods, some sixty miles to the north- 
 east. A very healthy location, sir ; fine 
 water privilege in cold weather, and des- 
 tined to become the ' Birmingham' of the 
 South — at least the green-grocers on New 
 Levee thought so, and were ruined by the 
 speculation. He laid out ' Bath,' which 
 was to be a noted watering-place ; and is 
 — -for bullfrogs. He has lately got a new 
 crotchet in his head, and proposes to de- 
 stroy Mobile by building up a rival lower 
 down the bay. ' Bob,' the swaggering 
 young man who addressed him so famil- 
 iarly as ' old-stick-in-the-mud' — a title, by- 
 the-way, acquired in his vocation — is his 
 factotum, or right hand. A neatly litho- 
 graphed plan of the ' City of Alabama'— a 
 mere sand-bank, sir, about as fit for a place 
 of trade as the Lv.ach at Nahant — was 
 struck off some months since, and dissem- 
 inated through the country. At the ap- 
 pointed day ' Bob' repairs to the ground, 
 and holds a sale ; and returns, as he has 
 just intimated, with paper to the amount 
 of fift}'' thousand dollars, which will never 
 be paid." 
 
 " That must be a losing business." 
 
 " Not at all, sir ; on the contrary, it is 
 considered thriving, and one half of our 
 men of capital have gone into it. It is like 
 shooting at a mark— you must sometimes 
 hit. At the South, this kind of gambling 
 works no permanent injury ; for by some 
 strange distortion of taste, or, perhaps, 
 foresight, those locations are alone select- 
 ed which, from their barrenness, or stale 
 of submersion, could not be put to any oth- 
 er possible use ; but at the North, many a 
 fine farm has been turned out to commons. 
 
 The old gentleman's history is somewhat 
 curious, and if you are at leisure, and 
 would be pleased to listen, I will recount 
 it." 
 
 The noisy group had departed. The 
 person on ray left, with his neighbour, to- 
 gether with myself, and a man in black, 
 with a ministerial air, were all that re- 
 mained of the many who but ten minutes 
 before sat at the same table. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE BIOGRAPHY OF THE RESPECTABLE-LOOK- 
 ING OLD GENTLEMAN. 
 
 "All is owing to the mercenary, low humour of 
 the times we live in, who, grovellinpf in the baser 
 modes of getting money by fraud and bite, by deceiv- 
 ing and overreaching one another, scorn the glorious 
 ways by which our ancestors grew rich, when they 
 pursued, together with their private advantages, the- 
 humour and interest of their native country, and of 
 their posterity." — Humorist. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 His Debut. — Difference with his Consignees. — The 
 Mayor. — French Language. — The Auction. — The 
 Dancing-house. — The Swamp. — Brandy-cocktail. 
 — Doctrine of Derivatives. — Slop-shop Bess. — 
 Charivari. — Community of Acquits and Gains. — 
 Another Rise. — Sues his Creditors. 
 
 "That man, sir," commenced the nar- 
 rator, " came to this city in the fall of 1812, 
 the captain of a flat-boat, freighted with to- 
 bacco. The freightage was to be paid b}' 
 the consignees ; but, after the delivery of 
 the cargo at the Levee, a dispute arising as 
 to the good and sound condition of certain 
 hogsheads of the weed, they, after the 
 most mild and respectful manner, informed 
 the old gentleman that they could not, as 
 honest factors of their principals in the up- 
 country, pay his charges without making a 
 liberal deduction therefrom for certain spe- 
 cified deteriorations suflfered by the tobac- 
 co, and caused, as they alleged, by his neg- 
 lect and want of good seamanship. 
 
 " Now, although the old gentleman had 
 never before been at New Orleans, or 
 transacted business with a commission 
 merchant, yet, as he was of good parts, 
 and naturally observant, he was not long 
 in comprehending to how great an extent 
 the factors' regard for the interest of their 
 principals influenced their refusal to pay 
 his charges ; so he snapped his fingers in 
 the face of messieurs the consignees, and 
 cried out for the governor of the city. 
 
 " ' I am de maire of dis city,' said a slim, 
 bilious-looking, attenuated Frenchman, 
 dressed, a dandy of that age, in the cast-off 
 fashions of the preceding ; ' I am de maire 
 of dis city.' 
 
 " You must know, sir, that a Frenchman 
 never speaks pure English. The race is 
 constitutionally, physically, and mentally 
 incapable of acquiring a foreign tongue. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 25 
 
 It has been said that the Germans are good 
 linguists, because, when they have mas- 
 tered their own language, they have mas- 
 tered the most difficult; perhaps it may, 
 with equal truth, be said, that the French 
 are bad linguists, because, when they have 
 mastered their own language, they have 
 mastered none at all ; however, you may 
 have your own opinion, I have mine : it is 
 not the want of mind, sir ; the vis animi, 
 furor, they possess more largely than the 
 English. 
 
 "The old gentleman made known his 
 grievance ; the mayor leaped upon a hogs- 
 head of tobacco, and put it at once up at 
 auction. ' Who bids for dis fine lot tobac 1 
 qui offre, qui offre — fifty dollar do I hears ] 
 cinquante piastres — going, allant — cin- 
 quante et une — going, allant — alle.' 
 
 " The gentlemen consignees, concluding 
 this was nearly as strong a game as the 
 noted 'open and shut,' or 'heads I win, 
 tails you lose,' paid the disputed bill upon 
 the spot. 
 
 " ' You are a very smart man,' said the 
 old gentleman to the mayor, pocketing his 
 money. 
 
 " ' Un beau garron,' replied the mayor, 
 * will you join de guard V 
 
 " ' Don't care if 1 do,' said the old gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " ' Vous parlez Fran^aise et Anglais 
 aussi V 
 
 " It is a city ordinance, sir, that a 
 guardsman must speak the two dominant 
 languages. 
 
 " ' Ya, monsear.' 
 
 " The mayor shook his head. 
 
 " ' That's a settler,' said the old gentle- 
 man, winking at the by-standers. 
 
 " The mayor looked doubtful. 
 
 " ' Ya, monsear,' reiterated the old gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 " The mayor, concluding that the words 
 he found it awkward to translate were a 
 Creole or negro corruption of ' la belle lan- 
 gue,' closed with the old gentleman and 
 walked away, thinking he had done the 
 city some service ; and that was the first 
 of the respectable-looking old gentleman's 
 acquaintance with New Orleans. 
 
 " But the old gentleman was too shrewd 
 to remain long in the service of the city. 
 He soon discovered, in his capacity of lifter 
 of odd characters, and visiter of respecta- 
 ble houses, that money might be made in 
 a less arduous and more agreeable busi- 
 ness. He therefore resigned his commis- 
 sion, and, with two others, one of whom is 
 now among our largest holders of real es- 
 tate, opened a dancing-house in what was 
 
 then called ' the Swamp,' now street. 
 
 Were you ever in a dancing-house, sir?" 
 
 " Judging of its character from the lo- 
 cality you are pleased to give it, I most 
 probably never was," said I. 
 
 "Ah! in the Swamp; eh! always in the 
 D 
 
 Swamp, sir. They move as that moves ; 
 or, rather, they keep upon the confines of 
 the city, as your Western pioneer does 
 upon that of advancing civilization. You 
 must become acquainted. I shall be hap- 
 py to give you an introduction some light 
 night ; don't like to visit such places with- 
 out a good moon, for fear of accidents. 
 
 " The three worthies succeeded admira- 
 bly ; just enough in number to fill all the 
 offices and save servant hire. One played 
 the fiddle, another beat the drum, and the 
 third dealt out nectar in the form of brandy- 
 cocktail." 
 
 " Brandy-cocktail !" 
 
 " Ah ! I see ; not acquainted with the 
 mixture ! Boy, bring up four glasses of 
 brandy-cocktail immediately ! 
 
 " To go on with my story, sir : the three 
 partners succeeded so well, that at the 
 close of a twelve-month they had grown 
 beyond their business ; always the way in 
 this country — no man follows the trade of 
 his father, or his own, longer than he can 
 help it. You may find a man a shoemaker 
 to-day, a dry- goods dealer to-morrow, a 
 lawyer the next day, a divine the day after, 
 and if he ends a state convict you have no 
 cause for surprise." 
 
 The slave returned with four partially- 
 filled tumblers upon a waiter, a spoon in 
 each. 
 
 " Ah, this is it !" exclaimed the narrator, 
 his eyes glistening with animation ; " help 
 yourselves, gentlemen ; touch* — very fine. 
 Now the difference between a brandy- 
 cocktail and a brandy-toddy is this : a 
 brandy-toddy is made by adding together a 
 little water, a little sugar, and a great deal 
 of brandy — mix well and drink. A brandy- 
 cocktail is composed of the same ingredi- 
 ents, with the addition of a shade of Stough- 
 ton's bitters ; so that the bitters draw the 
 line of demarcation. Boy, bring up four 
 brandy-toddies ; you shall taste the dis- 
 tinction, sir." 
 
 I decUned the favour of a second glass. 
 
 " You are new to the city, sir ? We all 
 drink ; must do it. Nothing like keeping 
 up a heat within, to counteract the heat 
 without. It is in accordance with the doc- 
 trine of derivatives, and I never knew a 
 prescription after that school to fail. Had 
 a boy of some ten years under my charge 
 — very bright— remarkable head — caught 
 in a shower — took cold — fever set in— set- 
 tled upon the brain — raving mad — sent for 
 a pliysician — prescribed a pair of tight 
 shoes and bri.sk walking, till the toes should 
 blister — carried into effect — boy mended 
 rapidly — second day, repeat — third day, as 
 
 ♦ A late distin^nishcd representative in the na- 
 tional councils from the State ot Mississippi nearly- 
 lost his life in complying with this Southern cus- 
 tom ; his glass broke in his hand, and he swallowed 
 one of the fragments. 
 
«8 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 clear-heiBled as myself — never sick after- 
 ward! 
 
 " The old gentleman stepped from the 
 dancing-house to the slop-shop. It was 
 rising a round on the ladder. He pur- 
 chased out an establishment of long stand- 
 ing, next door to an elderly lady who kept 
 a popular sailors' boarding-house. There 
 was an advantage in it. The two propri- 
 etors might play into each other's hands : 
 a deep game. They did so. This led to 
 an acquaintance which, with the course of 
 time, naturally ripened into mutual esteem. 
 She was rather a large woman — couldn't 
 have weighed much less than eleven stone 
 — with a broad face, pock-marked, red nose, 
 pink eyes, capacious mouth, double chin, 
 pendulous cheeks, bull neck, beruffled and 
 beflounced with costly lace, fine rings on 
 each finger, bating the thumb, a watch at 
 her girdle, and rejoiced in the name of 
 * Bess.' I think I see her now." 
 
 " Where V exclaimed I, looking around 
 the hall. 
 
 " In my mind's eye, sir. If you see her 
 once, you never lose her picture. The 
 extremes of beauty and ugliness meet. 
 She was one of them. 'Tis said the old 
 gentleman once begged a lock of her hair 
 to string his fiddle-bow, and found it too 
 coarse for his purpose ! However, I never 
 meddle with hearsay ; it is not good evi- 
 dence. How they were married, or when 
 they were married, I would not undertake 
 to say ; although I have understood that 
 the good lady wore two watches on the 
 occasion, with extra rings on her thumbs ; 
 while the old gentleman indulged to such 
 an extent as to mistake the sounds of tin 
 pans, gongs, cracked bells, French horns, 
 clarionets, and all other villanous instru- 
 ments, made by a charivari of some thou- 
 sand strings, for a common Jews'-harp 
 which Bess had unaccountably resolved to 
 play upon for his amusement. Were you 
 ever at a charivari, sir!" 
 
 " Never," said i. 
 
 " Never ! You should see one. Almost 
 the only rational amusemeftt we have. No 
 fashions in the city. No style. Balls no- 
 thing ; parties nothing. The theatre and 
 the drinking-shop are, indeed, always open ; 
 but the last is too gross, and the first is not 
 always intellectual : so we are, in a meas- 
 ure, compelled to resort to the charivari. 
 You should have visited the city a year 
 since, sir. An old gentleman, well known, 
 wealthy, married a young wife : fine lady 
 —handsome. We congratulated him upon 
 "his good fortune, and politely requested a 
 contribution of five hundred dollars for the 
 support of the Orphan Asylum. Old gen- 
 tleman very crabbed ; wouldn't do it. So 
 we gave him a charivari, ten thousand 
 strong ; all kinds of instruments, from a 
 table-bell to a steamboat : ten thousand 
 -musiciaas, and thirty thousand spectators ! 
 
 We kept it up three nights, raising two 
 hundred and fifty dollars each niglit to 
 cover casual expenses ; the third night the 
 lady went into fits, and the old gentleman 
 paid the thousand." 
 
 " It was an indictable offence." 
 
 " Indictable ! Would you indict the 
 whole community! We were, moreover, 
 disguised : a perfect carnival. You would 
 have been amused by the characters. 1 
 dressed as a cock ; always dress as a cock 
 on such occasions : can enact the part so 
 perfectly. Ecce .'" 
 
 The narrator gave a shrill, clear, well- 
 modulated crow. Chanticleer could not 
 have done the thing better. 
 
 " Cato ! turn that cock into the yard," 
 cried the landlord, thrusting his head into 
 the door, which he happened to be passing 
 at the moment. 
 
 " Admirable !" exclaimed the narrator ; 
 " that man ouglit to know chicken, since 
 he purchases two dozen daily ; yet he is 
 deceived. 
 
 " The respectable-looking old gentleman 
 and his wife joined capital ; they became 
 partners in trade : that is a provision of 
 our law. Husband and wife are consider- 
 ed partners in trade, and divide the profits. 
 You are worth fifty thousand dollars, and 
 marry a woman not worth a cent. Sub- 
 sequently to marriage you accumulate fifty 
 thousand more. Your wife dies child- 
 less, without a will. Her fifteenth cousin, 
 whom you never heard of before, comes 
 forward and modestly demands an equal 
 division of the acquits, and obtains it ! An 
 equitable law, that ! However, such has 
 not yet been the case with the old gentle- 
 man. Bess not dead yet, and bids fair to 
 live a hundred years. 
 
 " The respectable-looking old gentleman 
 joined capital, and opened a large grocery, 
 ship stores, &c. : another rise ! They suc- 
 ceeded. Luck is blind. I have resided 
 six years in this city, and not made a far- 
 thing. An Irish lad, who polished my 
 boots the first season, is now at the head 
 of one of our heaviest houses ! There 
 must be a next world to correct the ine- 
 qualities and oversights of this : the strong- 
 est argument I know of in favour of a fu- 
 ture life. They succeeded ; and in the 
 course of five years obtained credit suffi- 
 cient to declare themselves insolvent, sue 
 their creditors with a good grace, and clear 
 one hundred thousand dollars by the spec- 
 ulation." 
 
 " Sue their creditors !" 
 
 "Aha, you don't understand it! The 
 thing is done in this way. You are a gro- 
 cer, and hold goods on credit to the amount 
 of fifty thousand dollars ; you ship twenty- 
 five thousand ' up river' on pretended sales, 
 and dispose of the remainder, part cash, 
 part time ; the cash you put in your pocket, 
 the time you transfer to your • books ;' all 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 27 
 
 plain and above-board. Should a friend 
 have stored a few goods with you, all the 
 better ; they will quiet your landlord, and 
 pay the last year's rent. You then write 
 out two schedules, one containing the 
 names of your creditors, with the amount 
 due each — sum total, $50,000 ; the other 
 enumerating your assets, thus : 
 
 " Imprimis. — A little ready money, perhaps . $750 
 " Second. — Five hundred lots in a town laid 
 out upon a quarter section of land lying 
 somewhere, at 100 dollars per lot . . . 50.000 
 .-•' Third. — Notes drawn by individuals resi- 
 dent in Texas, and endorsed by ditto . . 9,250 
 ■"Pourth. — Claims upon that government . 15,000 
 
 " Total, $75,000 
 
 " You put the whole into the hands of a 
 lawyer ; he takes you before the clerk of 
 the court ; you swear that all is right." 
 
 "Swear!" 
 
 " The swearing is nothing ; oaths are as 
 common as blackberries, and about as 
 much regarded. I might trust in a man's 
 word — his honour would bina him — but, 
 when you require an oath, it is like taking 
 a pledge for loaned money ; the borrower 
 will cheat you if he can. I knew a pro- 
 fessor of metaphysics, who held that it was 
 as morally impossible for one to lie as to 
 jump one hundred feet into the air! That 
 man was acquainted with human nature ! 
 An order of court is made, a meeting of 
 creditors called, syndic appointed, proceed- 
 ings homologated, and you step forth a new 
 man, with a new credit, ready to renew the 
 game, and run over the same track. Thus 
 did the old gentleman. He mounted an- 
 other round, opened a commission-house, 
 received cotton on consignment, specula- 
 ted in the article, and stopped payment a 
 few weeks since for two millions ! It was 
 but the other morning that he purchased 
 strawberries to the amount of eighteen dol- 
 lars for his breakfast-table, and denied his 
 cobbler on the plea of poverty. ' Bess' has 
 grown magnificent, and is now refitting 
 their residence, which covers a whole 
 square. The old gentleman paid, in Paris, 
 a thousand dollars each for his window 
 curtains, and yesterday informed the up- 
 holsterer who put them up that he would 
 iind his name upon his ' schedule V* I Ihmk 
 you will know the gentleman when you 
 see him again," continued the narrator, 
 rising ; " permit me to leave my card with 
 you, No. — . My friend here, the doctor, 
 kills patients, and 1 wind up their estates. 
 Good-evening." 
 
 'i'he narrator bowed ; his friend, the doc- 
 tor, followed his example. 
 
 " Will you walk r' said I, addressing the 
 ministerial-looking gentleman, who now 
 sat alone at my side. 
 
 * He feeds his turkeys upon paccan nuts at ten 
 dollars the barrel, and boils them in Champagne. 
 
 The ministerial-looking gentleman call- 
 ed for his hat, and put his arm within mine. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "Perhaps it is not to be wondered at that there 
 is in this town a greater mixture of races than can 
 be found elsewhere throughout Asia." — Sir John 
 
 MANDEVir-LE. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 The Levee continued. — Evening. — The Shipping. — 
 No Twilight. — Spanish Colonists. — Livingston's 
 Code. — La Hermosa. — The Quadroon. — The 
 Place d'Armes. — Spanish Sailors. — Little Gio- 
 vanna. 
 
 I AM again upon the Levee ; my new- 
 formed acquaintance, the ministerial-look- 
 ing gentleman, walks at my side. 
 
 The sun is just dipping into the west, 
 and the broad bosom of the Mississippi is 
 bright with its departing rays, which dance 
 upon its surface, as upon a mirror quivering 
 in the breeze. The busy hum of life is 
 hushing to repose, the whole scene grows 
 mellow, and man, with all of nature, puts 
 on a softer aspect with the closing in of 
 night. A light south wind comes gently 
 from the gulf scented with the sea. All 
 that man has done, and all that man is, is 
 before me. The merchantman and the 
 steamship tell the whole story of art, of 
 science, and of luxury ; of discovery and 
 invention ; of the interchange between na- 
 tions, imparting knowledge, harmonizing 
 manners, creating refinement ; of the ex- 
 change of the products of distant climes, 
 supplying nature, and feeding artificial 
 wants ; of all that has been since 1492. 
 The Cathedral bells are chiming to ves- 
 pers ; the flags of every nation — our own, 
 the English, the French, the Spanish, the 
 Dane, the Russian, the Swede, the Hol- 
 lander, the Free Cities — are run to the 
 mast-head to salute the setting sun. That 
 custom speaks ; the most ignorant sailor 
 understands it ; and, as he sees the shade 
 cover the hull, and creep upward till the 
 colours of his country are alone bathed in 
 light, while all beneath is dark, his better 
 feelings gush forth in worship without 
 form. 
 
 I have chosen this hour to visit that por- 
 tion of the quay which is appropriated to 
 foreign and coastwise shipping, because it 
 is at this hour that the wharf \>Avi\c\\\y chan- 
 ges its character, and assumes the appear- 
 ance oizprado. The dull, dusty, dirty rou- 
 tine of business is the same throughout its 
 whole extent. The interminable chant of 
 the negro, with its full, sonorous chorus, 
 is here supplied by the hearty " Heav-yeo- 
 up !" of the sailor ; 'and the cotton-bale, to- 
 bacco-hogshead, and whiskey-barrel yield 
 to bales of foreign and domestic manufac- 
 tures, pipes of wine, and crates of ware. 
 
 The shipping stretches away from the 
 point at which I stand as far as the eye 
 
28 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 can reach, two miles in extent, three tiers 
 deep, with their heads to the current, curv- 
 ing with the river — a beautiful crescent. 
 The bosom of an American heaves with 
 honest pride as he looks upon the city, and 
 this, its chiefest ornament — the work of 
 only thirty years ! The last of sunlight 
 has disappeared ; the merchant, weary 
 with the day's activity, thoughtful, stoop- 
 ing, his eyes bent upon the ground, hur- 
 ries homeward, calculating his profits ; 
 " Y-augh ! y-augh ! y-augh !" a gang of 
 negroes, ever merry — there is not a surer 
 test of happiness than uniform hilarity. 
 Next come some half dozen sailors, in 
 tarred hats, clean check shirts, white trou- 
 sers, and slippers. They have just arrived, 
 have just received the little of money due 
 them, and are just starting into the city, 
 with a sober gait, and an honest, open face, 
 to see life, and get rid of their sea-legs. 
 
 " Do you see something skulking, like a 
 whipped hound, along the dark side of yon- 
 der building V 
 
 " A thief!" said my companion. 
 
 " No ; it is a land-shark, or sailors' land- 
 lord ; the pimp and pander to all his vices. 
 He i-s watching for, and will soon pounce 
 upon his prey. Poor Jack goes into the 
 city sober, honest, clean : how different 
 will be his return ! Is there no remedy 
 for so great an evilT' 
 
 My companion shook his head. " I have 
 been for ten years striving to dispel the 
 moral darkness which obscures the minds 
 of my fellow-men," said he, "and — have 
 lost my own soul!" 
 
 I turned with surprise. My companion 
 covered his face with his handkerchief. 
 
 There is no twilight at the 30th degree 
 north latitude. That sweetest of the sis- 
 ter-hours — that hovering between light 
 and darkness, in summer so mild, in win- 
 ter so brilliant, ai all seasons of the year so 
 tranquillizing to those whose feelings have 
 been set on edge by the past day's home- 
 ly labours, is here unknown ; and already 
 the stars begin to twinkle forth, one by 
 one, bright, and unobscured by vapour. 
 New Orleans, though lapped in swamp, 
 possesses a pure atmosphere. The stars 
 come twinkling forth one by one ; but 
 there are those which shine in pairs, and 
 of them, two are now beaming upon me 
 with all the power of youth and beauty. 
 The lady is a Creole, a native of the stale, 
 and is the- first harbinger of the change 
 now going on — of the metamorphosis of 
 the quay into the prado. The gentleman 
 upon whose arm she rests is a descendant 
 of Old Spain ; his ancestors came over with 
 O'Reilly ; and he has been taught, from 
 his youth, to speak of the days of the Bar- 
 on Caroudelet as the golden age of Lou- 
 
 isiana. He walks with a measured step,, 
 erect, proud, bewhiskered, and mustached ; 
 let him pass. It is, indeed, to be lament- 
 ed that the weaknesses of men prove he- 
 reditary, while their virtues die with the 
 possessors. There never existed a people 
 more heroic in action than were the peo- 
 ple of Old Spain ; and there never existed 
 a people more degraded in condition than 
 are at this time their descendants. The 
 enumeration of what has been but exposes 
 the nakedness of what is. 
 
 The greatness of Spain has left its im- 
 press upon the institutions of Louisiana. 
 Its laws, than which none are more simple 
 in structure, more equitable in spirit, or 
 better adapted to attain the end proposed, 
 pervade and colour all her legislation. 
 They compose the corner-stone whereon 
 Livingston and his coadjutors raised their 
 superstructure of codification ; and they 
 are the only valuable part of the whole 
 building.* The Spanish colonists introdu- 
 ced the laws of Spain into Louisiana ; and 
 they made the colony what it was at the 
 time of its sale to the United States. f The 
 Spanish colonists were men of action ; but 
 their descendants, numbering about eight 
 thousand, are fast decreasing, and are only 
 not less than the Italians in the city's mot- 
 ley population. 
 
 But the lady — La Hermosa— God bless 
 us, how they swarm upon one ! The whole 
 scene has changed while I have stood idly 
 talking. La Hermosa passed by some tea 
 minutes since ; I can just see her mantil- 
 la floating in the distance. The sweet 
 brunette ! But others, equally pretty, are 
 moving towards me with an even, sailing 
 motion — illae vel intactas segetis per sum- 
 mas volarent arenulas — and I may pencil 
 at leisure. 
 
 I stand, with my note-book in my hand, 
 reclining against one of the piles which, 
 driven deep into the earth, are fixed at short 
 intervals throughout the whole length of 
 the quay ; my eye bent upon the passing- 
 crowd, endeavouring to catch the traits of 
 La Hermosa. The moon, now mounting 
 its eastern steep, pours its soft and silvery 
 light full upon the open page. Have you 
 ever seen a cloud of paroquets upon the 
 
 * There is a strange misapprehension existing- 
 abroad of the late Edward Livingston'sc labours ia 
 codification. His great and original work on Crim- 
 inal Jurisprudence, containing " a Code of Crimes 
 and Punishments," "a Code of Proceeding," "a 
 Code of Evidence," and " a Code of Reform and 
 Prison Discipline," never has been, and probably 
 never will be, adopted by Louisiana. The " Civil 
 Code" and " Code of Practice" of Louisiana are 
 mere compilations — an attempt to amalgamate Ro- 
 man, Spanish, French, and English legislation and 
 customs, and the opinions of legal writers — hastily 
 got up, crude, undigested, full of redundancies, and 
 marred with omissions and glaring inconsistencies. 
 
 + Although the French were its first and last 
 possessors, I believe history will sustain the text. 
 France was never very successful in coionization. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 29 
 
 ^ing, glittering and shining with all the 
 colours of the rainbow in a noonday sun 1 
 And could Doughty select a bird from the 
 flock, and picture its plumage upon can- 
 vass 1 All shades, from deepest black to 
 purest white, are here so mixed and jum- 
 bled together, and pass in such close and 
 rapid succession, as to produce upon one's 
 vision an impression similar to that caused 
 by a revolving cylinder with the seven 
 
 Trimitive colours spread upon its surface.* 
 cannot, then, do better than to draw from 
 tlie pages of a popular writer, whose pen 
 is as true as it is graphic. f That sex, 
 whose chief and more esteemed qualities 
 are physical, never degenerates ; and La 
 Hermosa in New Orleans differs but little 
 from La Hermosa in Madrid. 
 
 " She is rather under than above the 
 middle size, with a faultless shape, which 
 is seen to tenfold advantage through the 
 elastic folds of her basquena. Though her 
 complexion be pale, it is never defiled by 
 rouge. Her teeth are pearly, lips red, eyes 
 full, black, and glowing. Such is La Her- 
 mosa at rest ; when she advances, each 
 
 * Domestic slavery is a great leveller. Through- 
 out the South there are but two classes, the white 
 and the black. Even here, upon the quay, moon- 
 jight, 8 P.M., the observation is most strikingly il- 
 lustrated. When I passed through Tennessee, I trav- 
 elled in company with a proprietor of the mail-coach 
 in which 1 w?.s riding. At Nashville one of his agents 
 compleiined most bitterly to the great man, because 
 "mine host of the Nashville Inn" would not suffer 
 " coachee" to dine at the same table with his " bag- 
 gage." " My drivers are gentlemen," replied the pro- 
 prietor ; " and if Mr. does not treat them as such, 
 
 I shall move the ' line' to another house !" " Slavery 
 is a conservative of liberty," said Duff Green. If 
 equality of intercourse is liberty, he might have gone 
 farther, and made it creative. Yet there is much 
 truth in the observation. 
 
 t North, in the"NoctesAmbrosianae," says, "The 
 author of ' A Year in Spain' and Washington Irving 
 are the only good writers which the American Re- 
 public has produced." And if good writing consists 
 in imparting enjoyment, without that irksomeness 
 which IS attendant upon the laboured periods and 
 measured rhythm of most of the line writing of the 
 present day, Lieut. Mackenzie may well rank with 
 the highest. Our modern traveller deals too much 
 in generals ; he is altogether too philosophical ; and 
 carries the admirable art of reasoning from particu- 
 lars to generals into subjects where its chemistry 
 cannot but be injurious. Endeavouring to impart 
 much in a few words, he evaporates rather than con- 
 solidates his knowledge. Instead of giving the reader 
 facts, he presents him with bold inferences, as the 
 square and compass wherewith to measure the height 
 and depth of the moral and political state of a people. 
 The author of " A Year in Spain" judged differently 
 of the duties of a writer of travels. He knew that 
 oiie can learn more of men and manners by half an 
 hour's living intercourse than from all the books that 
 ever were written ; and knowing this, he has given 
 us a faithful picture of what he saw. With him all 
 is life, action. His book is a continued drama 
 throu sellout, and the interest is sustained as well by 
 the freshness of the incidents, and the faithful de- 
 hneation of character, as by the admirable ingenuity 
 of the writer. We travel with him, enter into his 
 perils, and rejoice in his escapes, and, at last, close 
 the book almost persuaded that we ourselves have 
 made the tour of Spain. 
 
 0^ c 
 
 4^ Wv>*!Ct. 
 
 ^ J ■ 
 
 motion becomes a study. Her step, though 
 bold and quick, is yet harmonious, and the 
 rapid action of her arms, as she adjusts her 
 mantilla, is an index of the impatient order 
 of her temperament. As she moves for- 
 ward, she looks with an undisturbed, yet 
 pensive, eye upon the men that surround 
 her ; but, if you have the good fortune to 
 be an acquaintance, her face kindles into 
 smiles, she beams benignantly upon you, 
 and returns your salute with the most in- 
 viting grace. Then, if you have a soul, you 
 lay it at once at her feet." 
 
 This is a faithful picture of La Hermosa 
 in youth. What is she in age ] Perhaps, 
 as a faithful chronicler, 1 should pencil her 
 grandmother, who is now hobbling past, 
 muttering maledictions upon the slowness 
 of her foot, the hardness of the path, the 
 gayety of others, and her own loneliness ; 
 but it may be sufficient to remark that, if 
 the Spanish senorita is the most beautiful 
 of women, the spell, here at least, is broken 
 with marriage. The fine-moulded limb 
 loses its roundness, the lips grow thin, 
 even its lustre passes from the eye, and 
 the donna sinks into the duenna. 
 
 The fair northerner, with the glow of 
 health upon her cheek, regular features, 
 and an eye which has more of intellect 
 than of passion, asks no description ; and 
 La Belle Franqaise will adorn another page. 
 But there walks one, the representative of 
 a class whose look and every movement, 
 whose whole existence is love. Related 
 by blood to two of the races into which the 
 human family is divided, she is excluded 
 from each, and stands alone. Her station 
 in society is here by no means questiona- 
 ble. Her figure is perfect, and her face — 
 sensuality moulded into beauty. She has 
 known from childhood her true position, 
 and might teach the Roman poet his own 
 art. She is above the ordinary height, and 
 moves with a free, unrestrained air, distin- 
 guished for grace and dignity. There is 
 nothing of maiden coyness about her, while 
 she looks upon the passer by with an eye 
 which invites curiosity. She is a- rjaole , 
 and, perhaps I need not add, aquarteronne. 
 Her caste is numerous in the city, and is 
 now referred to, because it, at this hour, 
 forms the chief attraction of the quay ; its 
 origin and manner of living will be consid- 
 ered in a future chapter. 
 
 Jews and Gentiles, the Frenchman, Ital- K 
 ian, Spaniard,- German, and American, of 
 all conditions and occupations, with their 
 wives, or daughters, or mistresses, are 
 moving to and fro, turning to the right and 
 left, winding their way through labyrinths 
 of merchandise, unmindful of dust and dirt, 
 and chatting of all that occupies us mortals 
 here below. What a hubbub ! what an as- 
 semblage of strange faces, of the repre- 
 sentatives of distinct people ! What a con- 
 tact of beauty and deformity, of vulgarity 
 
 C-ti 
 
30 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 and good-breeding! What a collection of 
 costumes, from the habit of the German 
 boor, just imported, to the toilet of the 
 petit maitre, a la Paris ! And here we are 
 at the market, surrounded with fruiterers, 
 the venders of oranges, pineapples, cocoa, 
 monkeys, parrots, and ladies' lap-dogs. 
 The open square opposite is the Place 
 cfArmes, once the centre ornament* and 
 boast of the city, now the field wherein 
 " The Legion " delights to amuse itself 
 with military evolutions. It is now occu- 
 pied by a few persons, who are sitting 
 upon the green-sward near the jet-d''eau, 
 seemingly enchanted with the sounds of 
 a guitar which rise soft upon the ear. My 
 companion, the ministerial gentleman, who 
 had been hitherto taciturn, gloomy, and dis- 
 tracted, appeared enlivened by the music, 
 and proposed that we should enter within 
 the paling of the square. 
 
 The group is composed of Spanish sail- 
 ors, in the every-day dress of the ship- 
 board, arranged in a circle about one of the 
 company, who is both playing and accom- 
 panying his instrument with his voice. 
 The listeners keep time with their hands, 
 and join in the burden, which returns at 
 the close of each strophe of four lines. 
 The words are a lively, but rude romance, 
 in redondillas metre, made up of the usual 
 quantity of love, jealousy, and revenge. 
 
 " A pretty story, very prettily told," said 
 I, addressing the musician in Spanish, as 
 his last strain died upon the ear. 
 
 " I am glad you like it," replied the sailor. 
 
 " And who is the writer of the romance V 
 
 The hardy tar hung his head in all the 
 modesty of authorship. 
 
 " It is one of Jack's own," said a brother 
 of the forecastle. 
 
 "Indeed! is Jack a poetl" 
 
 "A bit of an improvisatore," replied 
 Tar. " A small gift from the Virgin, which 
 enables him and his friends to while away 
 an idle hour." 
 
 " I am but a p^or rhymer," said Jack, 
 " and hold but lightly a quality which is 
 not rare among my countrymen." 
 
 " Yet you are the first of your caste I 
 ever met with." 
 
 Jack shrugged his shoulders. " But if 
 your honour is truly not in jest, where can 
 your honour have passed all- the days of 
 your life ^ certainly not on the broad plains 
 of Castile, or among the green vines of 
 Italy !" 
 
 I assured Jack I had never seen the sun 
 rise on the other side of the water. 
 
 " Then you must listen to little Giovan- 
 na, the Italian improvisatrice ; she was 
 lapped in song, and pours forth verse as a 
 
 * " The old city, properly so called" — now inclu- 
 ded in the first municipality—'" is built in the form of 
 a parallelogram, of which ihe longer sides are 1320 
 yards, and the shorter, or the depth of the city to- 
 wards the swamp, 700 yards." — Encyc. Amer 
 
 boatswain pours out grog — all the freer for 
 gold." 
 
 " She does not prostitute her inspiration, 
 Jack?" 
 
 " She's no prostitute, your honour, but 
 turns an honest real by her gift." 
 
 " And I know no reason why she, more 
 than the nobler bard, should be debarred 
 from bartering rhyme for food. So play 
 the pilot, Jack, and I will settle the bill of 
 our night's entertainment." 
 
 The man of the guitar rose, and led the 
 way; his companions followed, while the 
 ministerial-looking gentleman and myself 
 brought up the rear of the procession, lis- 
 tening with much pleasure to a light im- 
 promptu, which the gifted sailor poured 
 forth in praise of the little Giovanna — start- 
 ing the stillness of the night, and often 
 bringing us in near approximation to the 
 watch-house. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE IMPROVISATRICE. 
 
 " And as the new abashed nightingale, 
 
 That stinteth first whan she beginneth sing. 
 Whan that she heareth any heerdes tale, 
 
 Or in the hedges any wight stearing, 
 And after siker doeth her voice out ring." 
 
 Chaucer. 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Locality. — The Bargain. — Little Giovanna. — The 
 Improvisation. 
 
 We halted before one of those hovels, 
 to be found in every city, which often lead 
 one to ask why it is that men are to be 
 found who prefer poverty in a crowded 
 town, with all its attendant evils, want of 
 every kind, impurity, disease, to the noble 
 independence of the wild woods, where 
 there is room without rent, and food, to be 
 purchased at a less expense of labour than 
 the hard-earned pittance which half sup- 
 plies the diurnal cravings of appetite ! 
 The whole structure of society is built 
 upon the shoulders of the poor : take away 
 poverty, and wealth grovels in the dust. 
 It is a long time since a wise and a holy 
 man asked, " Hath not the potter power 
 over the clay, of the same lump to make 
 one vessel unto honour, and another unto 
 dishonour ■?"' but who among the proud has 
 learned hurnility of this question ! 
 
 Jack threw open the door, and showed 
 us in, as if it had been his own house. 
 And well he might, for we were warmly 
 welcomed by a dozen human voices, with- 
 out enumerating the more questionable sa- 
 lute of dogs, monkeys, and parrots, a 
 beastly collection, which is invariably to 
 be met with in the dwellings of the lower 
 French, Spaniards, and Italians. Twelve 
 in a room of twenty feet by twenty-four, 
 with all the means and appurtenances of 
 living — chairs, tables, beds, and cooking 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 SI 
 
 utensils, with sundry heaps of West India 
 fruit, our Italian's staple in trade. After a 
 hasty introduction, we seated ourselves as 
 we best might, while Jack, in his own dip- 
 lomatic way, entered upon the object of 
 our visit. The terms were mutually agreed 
 upon, and the contract closed. The father 
 measured his daughter's inspiration by 
 time, and trafficked in it at so much the 
 " quarter of an hour." I bargained for the 
 duration of a story, a sort of wholesale pur- 
 chase, in which I might be gainer or loser, 
 according to the violence of the afflatus. 
 
 " Giovanna," cried the father, in Italian, 
 " here are two gentlemen who wish a touch 
 of your quality. They pay well ; sing 
 sweetly, and you shall have an hour of hol- 
 yday in the morning." 
 
 My eyes had twice circled the room in 
 search of the sibyl, but had fallen upon no 
 face which bore traces of the poetic fire, 
 always excepting my cicerone, whose fea- 
 tures, though ridged with many a tempest, 
 and blackened by a thousand tropical suns, 
 exhibited, as some one has said of Dampier, 
 that delicacy of contour which is always 
 the accompaniment of genius. 
 
 A girl of some fourteen years, who sat 
 in one corner of the apartment almost bu- 
 ried amid a heap of oranges, the rinds 
 of which she was most industriously en- 
 gaged in polishing, rose and presented 
 herself in answer to the call. She was 
 poorly, very poorly clad ; her feet uncov- 
 ered ; her hair dishevelled, torn, entangled ; 
 and her whole person exhibiting palpable 
 evidence of an utter ignorance of water. 
 It was the little Giovanna ! Her form was 
 good ; her face possessed of the fulness of 
 youth; her forehead oval, and projecting; 
 her eyes — but I could not see them, for 
 they were bent upon the floor. The father 
 spoke some words of encouragement, kiss- 
 ed her forehead, and placed her in the cen- 
 tre of the room. 
 
 " Will the gentlemen give me an argu- 
 ment ?" asked the little Giovanna, and, as 
 she spoke, she raised her eyes and look- 
 ed upon us. They were like the vault of 
 heaven, when clear, without a cloud ; it 
 justifies all our young hopes, and is the 
 home of all we love. 
 
 I hesitated. 
 
 " It is a better test of my child's power," 
 said the father ; " select yourself the sub- 
 ject of the story you wish woven into 
 verse, and you will be sure she does not 
 draw upon memory." 
 
 " David in the cave of AduUam," said my 
 ministerial-looking companion. 
 
 " That will never do," said I. " Italia's 
 poesy is so redolent with Holy Writ that the 
 young sibyl will find her path a travelled 
 one. Let us seek in our own wilds a theme 
 new to her genius." 
 
 But the breath of inspiration was strong 
 
 upon her, and the little Giovanna waited 
 not for our seeking. Her eyes glanced 
 rapidly from us to those of her friends who 
 surrounded her, and it soon became appa- 
 rent that she was strongly affected by the 
 contrast which our outward appearances 
 exhibited. Her form dilated ; her face be- 
 came flushed, and the veins of her neck 
 were filled near to bursting ; then, closing 
 her eyes, as if in sleep, she poured into- 
 our ears a song of verse so sweetly modu- 
 lated, yet in a voice so low that it seemed 
 like soft music heard at a distance — al- 
 most inaudible. It spoke of charity for the 
 poor; their wants, their sufferings, and' 
 their crimes, more than half excused by 
 their temptations. It drew a picture which,, 
 like all the pictures touched by genius, is 
 daily to be seen among men, a picture of 
 utter deprivation ; but the good Samaritan 
 stood not by, for she had met with none. 
 
 My ministerial-looking companion cov- 
 ered his face with his hands ; and I saw a 
 tear trickle down from between his fingers. 
 
 " It is too true," said he, mournfully. 
 
 " True !" The sibyl caught at the word ; 
 it turned the current of her thoughts ; it 
 planted passion where before was resigna- 
 tion, and excited anger and the hope of re- 
 venge, where before seemed only depreca- 
 tion and desire of pity. "True!" and 
 throwing her arms into the air, and un- 
 closing her eyes, which glared as if start- 
 ing from their sockets, she burst forth into 
 a flood of invective clothed in verse of the 
 wildest and most varied measure. We 
 started with astonishment ; it was passing 
 from the lute to the trumpet; it was hear- 
 ing words of defiance when most we look- 
 ed for peace ! The miser would have trem- 
 bled. How hardly shall a rich man entei 
 into the kingdom of Heaven ! " And in 
 hell, he lifted up his eyes, being in tor- 
 ments, and seelh Abraham afar off, and 
 Lazarus in his bosom." We were hurried 
 irresistibly along with the torrent; our feel- 
 ings caught the contagion, and the excite- 
 ment of attention, expectation, and won- 
 der had become painful, when the sibyl's- 
 own powers of endurance appeared ex- 
 hausted, and, descending gradually from the 
 height she had attained, she sang of Ruth 
 gleaning in the fields of Boaz till she sank 
 calm and helpless into her father's arnis^ 
 with words of universal love dying upon 
 her lips. 
 
 We turned from the house as we had 
 approached it, with honest Jack leading the ■ 
 way, and singing aloud to the praise of the 
 little Giovanna. while the remainder of the 
 company joined ever and anon in a chorus 
 wishing long life and a happy one to her 
 who had sung so divinely. We parted at 
 the square"; but not before the hearty tars 
 and the landsmen had poured a libation 
 together. 
 
32 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 • This examp/e was shewed to teache vs howe the 
 teachers of God's Worde should not grutche to de- 
 scend from their highnes or perfection, and abase 
 thernselues euen to the lowlines of the weake, there- 
 by to Wynne very many to theyr Lorde." — Udall. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Anna's DweUing. — Anna. — The good Samaritan. — 
 Anna's Story. — Anna's Apostrophe-, — The good 
 Samaritan's holy Exercise. — Anna's Burial. 
 
 " It is, indeed, horrible," remarked my 
 ministerial-looking companion, as we pass- 
 ed up street, on our return from the 
 
 •visit to little Giovanna, " it is, indeed, hor- 
 rible to find society so constituted that no- 
 thing can be obtained without money." 
 
 " Yet the evening's amusement was not 
 dearly purchased," said I, supposing my 
 companion alluded to the improvisation 
 we had just witnessed. 
 
 " It is not of the Italian girl that I am 
 thinking," replied my companion. " The 
 observation was suggested by the present 
 condition of one to whom I am about to in- 
 troduce you. Yes, this is the place ; she 
 lives, or, rather, is dying here," he contin- 
 ued, halting before one of those small, low, 
 French-built houses of one story, which, 
 
 in street, are usually habited by a 
 
 class of females more sinned against than 
 sinning. " Yes, this is the place ;" and he 
 grasped my arm as if fearful I should leave 
 him. " Now you will feel the force of my 
 observation. It is, indeed, horrible to find 
 society so constituted that nothing can be 
 obtained without money ! Virtue may 
 starve in the midst of a populous city ; want 
 subdues honesty, and chastity immolates 
 itself to supply the cravings of hunger! 
 Come, come in ; you shall not hear, but see 
 jny story. It is good to humble one's self 
 before men." 
 
 I followed my companion. 
 
 A single candle burned upon the hearth, 
 •throwing a dim ?-nd flickering light about 
 a room which had been once, in the palmy 
 days of its inmates — if any of the days of 
 wretchedness may be said to be palmy — 
 richly furnished. But sickness came, as 
 it always will come ; disease in its most 
 ioathsome form ; and the forced laugh, the 
 •wild cry of riot, the seeming of hilarity 
 were gone. How soon do even our co- 
 •workers in iniquity discover the footsteps 
 of misfortune ! No suiters came ; the week- 
 ly bills of rent, for food, for the very wa- 
 ter which cooled a feverish tongue, brook- 
 ed no delay ; and tables, sofa, chairs, otto- 
 mans, carpets, curtains, mirrors, pictures, 
 •were sold, one after the other, until the 
 room's emptiness looked chilling. The 
 bloated bed of better days had not been 
 spared, and upon a miserable pallet now 
 lay the wreck of what had been the habita- 
 tion of beauty, of refinement, of purity, and 
 
 all maidenly virtue. How rapid is the race 
 of vice ! How wonderful its alchemy ! 
 
 " It is Anna," said my companion, in a 
 low whisper, and pointing to the pallet. 
 
 Upon a crazy trunk — Anna's initials 
 were upon it ; it had known her in her 
 childhood, had held her first wardrobe, ac- 
 companied her in all her wanderings, and 
 might have told many a tale of pride, of 
 vanity, and of sorrow — sat a good Samari- 
 tan, who daily called and endeavoured to 
 smooth the poor girl's passage to the grave. 
 In learning to cure the body, he had not 
 forgotten the soul, and could pour words of 
 hope into the ears of one who seemed flut- 
 tering just above despair. 
 
 My ministerial-looking companion ap- 
 proached the pallet, dropped upon his 
 knees, and sobbed aloud. It was the first 
 intimation Anna had of our presence. 
 
 " Ha ! are you there, devil !" she ex- 
 claimed, in a shrill, yet hollow tone ; there 
 was death in it. " Get up, get up, and look 
 upon the work of two short years !" 
 
 My ministerial-looking companion rose, 
 and bending over the sick girl's pillow, 
 muttered something which was to me in- 
 audible. He faltered in his speech, his 
 knees shook, his whole frame was violently 
 agitated ; large, heavy drops rolled down his 
 face : he was in prayer. " Father, forgive — " 
 
 " Forgive ! never !" exclaimed Anna, in 
 a quick, hurried cry, as if fearful lest the 
 request might be granted before she could 
 interpose an objection. " Forgive ! and 
 shall you rise while I sink ! you, the sedu- 
 cer ! No, no, no ; no, no, no." 
 
 My companion again sank upon the floor, 
 and covered his face with his hands. 
 
 ******* 
 
 " Did you ever hear a woman curse 1 it 
 is fiendish." 
 
 " Forgive !" continued Anna ; " I cannot 
 ask forgiveness ; yet I was innocent till you 
 came. Ah, how sweet do the scenes of 
 childhood rise up before me ! My old pa- 
 rents ; poor, honourable : the neat farm- 
 house ; the country church, with its hoary 
 pastor : then I felt strong in virtue : O God, 
 is it possible ! The aged saint was remo- 
 ved from among us, and you took upon 
 yourself his holy ofldce. ' Beware of wolves 
 in sheep's clothing !' I should have pon- 
 dered upon that text. You took upon 
 yourself his holy office, and a look, a whis- 
 per, and I fell. Yet you might have saved 
 me, but would not. I was nothing ; you, 
 all in all. And have I not concealed your 
 guilt, traitor — traitor to Christ — as none 
 but woman could have concealed it 1 When 
 my time came, your name was never upon 
 my lips. When my friends looked cold 
 upon me, I did not murmur. When my 
 aged father drove me as a contamination 
 from his threshold, and my mother, who 
 had borne for me the pains I was about to 
 bear, turned from me as from a stranger. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 33 
 
 I did not seek your roof, but wandered, 
 without food, without shelter, day and 
 night, through the open fields. Without 
 money, without friends, the world would 
 not pity my wants — go starve, strumpet! 
 What could 1 do but what I have done 1 
 O, curse, curse, curse upon the serpent that 
 beguiled me."* 
 
 My companion cast himself along the 
 floor. He moaned aloud, " Guilty ! guilty ! 
 before God and men."' 
 
 The good Samaritan took a small vol- 
 ume from his pocket, and ran his eye va- 
 cantly over its spread page. Anna was 
 silent from exhaustion ; the moan of my 
 companion alone filled the room. 
 
 " It is not for us to measure the wisdom 
 or justice of the Creator ; neither shall our 
 soft affections judge the stern decrees of 
 Heaven," commenced the good Samaritan, 
 " but Christ—" 
 
 " Christ!" exclaimed Anna. 
 
 The good Samaritan gave way to the 
 interruption, and turned over the leaves of 
 his book as if in search of a passage not 
 readily to be found. 
 
 " Christ ! purest of created beings ; with- 
 out sin ; Son of God ! How mild in tem- 
 per ! how meek in deportment ! how sub- 
 lime in morals ! He taught without os- 
 tentation ; he rebuked without severity ; 
 h« cheered the penitent, he confirmed the 
 good, and wept over the iniquity of those 
 Avho hearkened not unto his doctrines. He 
 did not anathematize the guilty, but with 
 ■words of love strove to win the sinner 
 from his ways, and to save a soul of more 
 value than the temporal wealth, the earth- 
 ly pleasures it sought, and in seeking lost : 
 lost wealth, lost pleasure, lost itself! The 
 bruised reed he did not break, the smoking 
 flax ho. did not quench, and the poor he 
 had with him always. He loved the poor, 
 and he loved the rich also ; he loved the 
 just and the unjust, for all were his broth- 
 ers, and he would have saved all. Did he 
 sit among the wicked! it was to purge 
 them from their wickedness. Did the 
 weeping penitent of pleasure bathe his feet 
 with her tears ? she went her way reform- 
 ed, blessed with the forgiveness of her sins. 
 How I love thee, briglit visitant of this be- 
 nighted world ! Thou shalt be to me a fa- 
 ther and a mother, a sister and a brother. 
 
 * The lover of German literature will be remind- 
 ed of one of its most truly natural and pathetic pages. 
 
 "Wil. — Jenes Dorf, dessen Kirchthurmspitze Du 
 hier von feine sichst, ist mein Getjurtsart. In jener 
 Kirche ward ich getauft, in jener Kirche empfing ich 
 die ersten Lehren unsers Glaubens. Meine Aeltern 
 waren froname gute Bauersleule, arm und ehrlich," 
 \i. s. V. — Das Kind der Liche : von August vou 
 Kotzebue. — Erster Akte, Achle Scene. 
 
 E 
 
 At all hours I will think of thee : at the 
 opening morn, at high noon, and at closing 
 eve. 1 will contemplate thy character, I 
 will love, I will adore. Thou shalt be my 
 support in adversity, and should prosperity 
 come — which may never come — thy calm 
 influence shall temper the extravagance 
 of success." 
 
 Anna was silent. W^ho could have list- 
 ened to the poor girl's words unmoved T 
 The good Samaritan renewed his exami- 
 nation of the small volume, which he had 
 involuntarily closed, and held with his fore- 
 finger gently inserted between its pages ; 
 and observing that Anna, the ministerial- 
 looking gentleman, and myself were mute 
 with sorrow, he first attracted our atten- 
 tion to the exercise he was about to per- 
 form, and then read, with a voice sweetly 
 modulated to the tone of deep depression 
 mingled with high hope, the following ap- 
 peal to the Lord of Hosts : 
 
 " O most mighty God, and merciful Fa- 
 ther, who hast compassion upon all men, 
 and hatest nothing that thou hast made ; 
 who wouldst not the death of a sinner, 
 but that he should rather turn from his sin 
 and be saved ; mercifully forgive us our 
 trespasses ; receive and comfort us, who 
 are grieved and wearied with the burden 
 of our sins. Thy property is always to 
 have mercy ; to thee only it appertaineth 
 to forgive sins. Spare us, therefore, good 
 Lord ; spare thy people • whom thou hast 
 redeemed. Enter not into judgment with 
 thy servants, who are vile earth and mis- 
 erable sinners ; but so turn thine anger 
 from us, who meekly acknowledge our 
 vileness, and truly repent us of our faults, 
 and so make haste to help us in this world, 
 that we may ever live with thee in the 
 world to come ; through Jesus Christ our 
 
 Lord. Amen." 
 
 **#*♦♦ 
 
 On the second day subsequent to the 
 events just related, the ministerial-looking 
 gentleman, the good Samaritan, and my- 
 self followed Anna to the grave. The 
 good Samaritan performed the usual rites ; 
 the ministerial-looking gentleman, clothed 
 in habits of mourning, kneeled by the bier 
 in silence. He had selected one of the 
 many tenements for the dead of which the 
 wall which surrounds the Protestant bury- 
 ing-ground is composed, and Anna was 
 lifted softly into that home which, to her, 
 was indeed a home of rest. The good Sa- 
 maritan is willing to go about doing good 
 unknown. I left the ministerial-looking 
 gentleman still kneeling by Anna's tomb, 
 while the mason was busily at work clo- 
 sing up its mouth. 
 
3i 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 DAY THE SECOND. 
 
 " And every person of judgnnent, who loves a sincere relation of things, would be glad, if it were possible,, 
 to have the writer of them abstracted from all kind of connexion with persons or things that are the subject 
 matter ; to be of no country, no party ; clear of all passions ; independent in every light ; entirely uncon- 
 cerned who is pleased or displeased with what he writes ; the servant only of reason and truth." — William 
 Smith, D.D. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE SABBATH. 
 
 " Those Sabbath bells I love to hear, 
 Ringing merrily, loud and clear." 
 " Aha ! are you there, you old Puritanical ! — 
 'Ringing merrily,' eh? Why not ringing merrily 
 and dancing merrily ? Is it not strange that there 
 should be found, among the followers of every reli- 
 gion, those who would draw the thick cloud of their 
 own dark bigotry over the bright sun which God has 
 placed in the heavens to enliven and fertilize the 
 earth ?" — The Cavaliers. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Sabbath Morning.— The Cathedral.— The good Sa- 
 maritan's Discourse upon Religion. — La Belle 
 Creole.— The Militia.— Pietro.— The Levee.— The 
 Battle. — Little Giovanna. — The Young Huckster. 
 
 It is the Sabbath ! A Sabbath in New 
 Orleans ! here the noisiest day of the week 
 — so full of strange contrasts, of lights and 
 shadows, crossing and recrossing each 
 other: of the grave and gay, saints and 
 sinners, each engaged in his vocation — 
 that he may well tremble for his art who 
 attempts to fix it, living, upon canvass. It 
 is not the Sabbath of New England — there 
 all are church-going from habit. Neither 
 is it the Sabbath of Italy — there, too, cus- 
 tom has moulded the manners of the peo- 
 ple, and mirth and laughter usher in and 
 close the jubilee of the poor. But here 
 there are no manners, no customs, no fix- 
 ed habits ; all is unsettled, chaotic ; the el- 
 ements of society, as parti-coloured as the 
 rainbow, but waiting the passage of years 
 to blend them into one harmonious whole. 
 
 I was dreaming of poor Anna, whose 
 spectre haunted me as if I had myself been 
 the ministerial-looking gentleman who had 
 wronged her past, forgiveness, when the 
 roar of cannon dispelled the vision, and re- 
 minded me of an appointment I had made to 
 meet the good Samaritan at matins. And 
 yet he is not a Catholic ; why should he 
 have selected the Cathedral in preference 
 to the market-house, when both are equal- 
 ly well attended, and the last the more in- 
 teresting of the two; A drum and fife, 
 which suddenly struck up the lively nation- 
 al air of "Yankee Doodle" just under my 
 window, turned the current of my reflec- 
 tions, and, leaping out of bed, I thrust my 
 head into the open air, in search of the 
 cause of so unseasonable a mustering of 
 armed men in my immediate vicinity. 
 Two lusty blacks, in full regimentals, 
 were playing a duet to a solo audience of 
 their own colour, while a casual passer-by 
 bttstowed upon the group a grin of appro- 
 bation. 
 
 The gray streaks of morning were fast 
 thickening in the east, when I sallied forth 
 from my hotel, with a curiosity raised on 
 tiptoe by so unusual a commencement of 
 the first day of the week. The morning 
 was delightful — the atmosphere clear and 
 bracing ; yet, except a lady, whose hurried 
 steps, followed hard by a female slave, be- 
 spoke an amateur of mass or marketing, 
 and a straggling citizen-soldier, whose 
 martial propensities must have been rous- 
 ed thus early into action by the same pleas- 
 ing strains which had persuaded me from 
 my couch, I met with no living soul during 
 the whole of my walk from above Canal- 
 street to the Cathedral. The Americans* 
 sleep late, for they have a notion that the 
 rising sun is the only sovereign protection 
 against miasma,! and their morning slum- 
 bers are not yet broken by the harsh cries 
 of the venders of milk, fi;esh butter, and 
 eggs, which scare the matin hours of a 
 northern city. 
 
 The Cathedral. Let not the reader, who 
 has been accustomed to associate the most 
 gorgeous of all the religions with archi- 
 tectural excellence in its most imposing 
 forms, expect to find here the lofty spire 
 and growing dome, the fretted portal and. 
 painted ceiling, the "long-sounding aisles," 
 
 " Where awful arches make a noonday night. 
 And the dim windows shed a solemn light." 
 
 In this, the richest of all the Catholic dio- 
 cesses in the United States, the church has 
 no temple worthy of her ancient great- 
 ness ; and the Cathedral, the boast of the 
 city's Creole population, is the poorest 
 patch-work of bastard orders which brick 
 and mortar were ever made to assume. 
 Its utter insignificance as a work of art 
 would deprive it of all claim to notice, 
 were it not that in the earlier and best 
 points of New Orleans it occupies a posi- 
 tion so prominent as to induce one to sup- 
 pose the Orleanois had put their best foot 
 foremost, and were willing to make the 
 most of a doubtful ornament. Time, too, 
 hallows all things, and the touch of his 
 hand is more potent to beautify than the 
 painter's pencil : he mellows the colour- 
 
 * That portion of the population of New Orleans 
 whose mother tongue is English, whether of native 
 or foreign birth. 
 
 t There is not in the whole range of science a 
 greater bug-bear than this same miasma — a word 
 borrowed from the Greek, for the purpose of conceal- 
 ing the ignorance of D\ilncss. As applied to ati un- 
 known cause, it signifies nothiiifj, and gives birth to 
 a multitude of errors, by presupposing that to be tan- 
 gible which is not known certainly to e.xist. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 3& 
 
 ingf of Raphael, and sheds a grace over the 
 monuments of Wren. The Cathedral's 
 old age is honourable, and he who is curi- 
 ous in such matters will be as well pleas- 
 ed with the bare, dilapidated condition of 
 its inner economy, as with its weather- 
 beaten front, seamed with scars which 
 mark the passage of years. 
 
 I arrived before the hour ; the bell had 
 not yet tolled to matins. But, with the 
 Catholics, the house of God, like the king- 
 dom of heaven, is always open to the poor 
 in spirit ; and I found a side portal, leading 
 to the altar, inviting every passer-by to en- 
 ter freely and commune with his Maker. 
 A small marble vase, filled with holy water, 
 stood upon the right, just within the por- 
 tal ; and as I never enter a church with- 
 out conforming to its customs, I immersed 
 the tips of my fingers in the fluid and 
 made the sign of the cross. If there is any 
 virtue in such things, I would wish to re- 
 ceive the benefit of it ; if there is none, a 
 little salt and water cannot be otherwise 
 than harmless. The good Samaritan stood 
 •beside a lady, who knelt in prayer, as if 
 weighed down with sorrow ; he observed 
 my devotion, and advanced to meet me. 
 
 '"Chanty suffereth long and is kind,'" 
 said he. "The great Church of Christ is 
 divided into many families ; and it becomes 
 a true disciple to conform to the honest 
 prejudices of all his brethren. I worship 
 as often before this altar as within the 
 more Protestant walls raised by that sect 
 in the reformed religion to which I belong : 
 they are holy places, all. Yet I have re- 
 quested you to meet me here, not for the 
 purpose of compelling you to join in the 
 ceremonies of a ritual which may be a 
 stumbling-block to your faith, but that, as 
 a stranger to our city, you might see it on 
 every side — the darkest as the brightest. 
 The house of mourning is more instructive 
 than the house of joy ; but we should be- 
 come familiar with both if we would learn 
 truly to appreciate life. I have resided 
 many years in this city, and have long 
 since accumulated a large estate ; yet it is 
 but a short time since I learned how to en- 
 joy it, or discovered that the luxury of 
 ameliorating the sufferings of the unfortu- 
 nate was superior to the luxuries of the 
 table and the wine-cup. I am, perhaps, 
 too well known to justify feelings of false 
 dehcacy on my part ; yet the lady whose 
 side I have just left, and who still kneels, 
 absorbed in prayer, is too young and too 
 beautiful for me to follow where she will 
 lead the way, unattended by a friend of ei- 
 ther of the parties." 
 
 The good Samaritan bowed respectfully 
 as the officiating priest of morning passed 
 us on his way to the altar, and, bending 
 his knee before an image of the Virgin, he 
 resumed his former position beside the fair 
 woman, whose half-stifled sobs gave utter- 
 
 ance to a grief which had other origin than 
 her own venial sins. The matin bells now 
 rung out the accustomed peal, and, roused 
 from a short revery into which the good 
 Samaritan's last words had thrown me, I 
 found the Cathedral fast filling with sweet 
 faces, subdued by the occasion and the 
 place to the Madonna style of beauty. 
 Fashion pervades everything in this artifi- 
 cial world of ours ; and the fair descend- 
 ants of the French colonists choose to 
 attend mass before sunrise, and then, like 
 the first Christians, return to their usual 
 avocations. And when is woman more 
 lovely than at this early hour, with all her 
 native charms fresh from the couch — like 
 Venus from the wave — and just enough of 
 sleep hanging upon her eyelids to dull the 
 brilliancy of the orbs which roll beneath 
 into just harmony with the mellow light of 
 opening day ! La Belle Frangaise ! How 
 perfect her figure ; and then her walk ; 
 grace and love combined in motion ! With 
 what taste she wears her dress. Mind 
 presides over the arrangement of every 
 fold — the poetry of the toilet ! She makes 
 use of no illegitimate means to captivate ' 
 the heart. Her features are classic evew 
 unto sameness, with, perhaps, a little more 
 of embonpoint than would be found in a 
 statue of Praxiteles. The general expres- 
 sion of her face is rest. Her large black 
 eyes are soft as the gazelle's ; neither pos- 
 sessing the fire of the Spanish senorita, nor 
 rolling like those of the mixed race I have 
 already described, liquid with love. The 
 dark tresses of her hair are carefully ar- 
 ranged, and motionless as chiselled mar- 
 ble. Of quiet manners, she neither seeks 
 nor rejects attention ; wins without effort,, 
 and wears without arrogance ; secure of a 
 homage which is the more readily paid be- 
 cause seemingly unsought. Her small 
 hand and tapering fingers, her "little feet," 
 which, in the exquisite verse of Suckling, 
 " Beneath a petticoat, 
 
 bike mice, steal in and out, 
 
 As if they feared the light," 
 
 and finely-turned ankle — if you catch a 
 sight of it — complete the picture. She is 
 irresistible, and even in church steals us 
 from our devotions ; for while the good- 
 Samaritan, and all about me, have been 
 saying their prayers, I have stood, rapt 
 in admiration, before La Belle Francaise^ 
 and, instead of soberly repeating a "pater 
 nosier," have unintentionally put to flight 
 the object of my admiration by repeating- 
 in an audible voice the following lines of 
 the poor Elvira : 
 
 " I waste the matin lamp in sighs for thee, 
 Thy image steals between my God and me ; 
 Thy voice 1 seem in every hymn to hear, 
 With every bead I drop too soft a tear. 
 When from the censer clouds of fragrance roll. 
 And swelling organs lift the ri.sing soul, 
 The thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight, 
 Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight : 
 
36 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 In seas of flame my plunging soul is drowned. 
 While altars blaze and angels tremble round." 
 
 " That will do," whispered the good Sa- 
 maritan, tapping me upon the shoulder, 
 and meeting my stare with a smile ; " you 
 appear absorbed iu thought ; let us walk 
 awhile ; the lady, at whose command I am, 
 desires an additional hour for the confes- 
 sional." 
 
 The good Samaritan, like all those who 
 to a native benevolence of character have 
 added a thorough knowledge of the world, 
 was of a liberal mind, and therefore not 
 disposed to quarrel with the customs of the 
 people about him. 
 
 " The Christian Sabbath," said he, as we 
 passed down the aisle, " seems to have 
 been instituted, in the early days of the 
 Church, for the benefit of the working 
 classes, whose limbs, wearied and cramped 
 with six days of labour, need, not only rest, 
 but the revivifying influence of out-door 
 sports : they occupy a vacant mind, and fill 
 the heart with laughter, the best physician 
 for a sick body. We will visit the market ; 
 it is best seen at this early hour ; and as 
 we pass along the Levee, you will find it, 
 if not as busy as upon tlie other days of 
 the week, at least stirring with life in a 
 more joyous form." 
 
 The deep-toned notes of the organ had 
 not yet died upon the ear, when our atten- 
 tion was attracted by a well-dressed com- 
 pany of " Native American" militia, which, 
 preceded, followed, and hemmed in on 
 every side by a motley collection of all 
 colours, sexes, and conditions, marched 
 hurriedly along to the old familiar tune 
 which had so unceremoniously serenaded 
 my bedchamber. Drum and fife were now 
 more fortunate in their audience, and con- 
 sequently played with a corresponding ad- 
 dition of spirit. Bond and free were equal- 
 ly happy, and danced, sang, shouted, poked 
 each other under the ribs, and played at 
 shuttlecock with their neighbour's heads, 
 in the true equaii;,y of the Roman saturna- 
 lia. This is the Sabbath of the slave. 
 
 Though the " Place d' Amies" was as yet 
 vacant, the venders of fruit were busy ar- 
 ranging their wares in pyramidal forms 
 along the iron railing which surrounds it. 
 " That man's story is curious," said the 
 good Samaritan, pointing to a greasy, over- 
 grown merchant in the trade. " He has 
 sold fruit, just where he now stands, for 
 more than twenty years, and has grown 
 both rich and learned, without desiring to 
 change his condition iu life. His numer- 
 ous customers of every clime induced him 
 to masterall the languages of Europe ; and 
 the character of the commodities in which 
 he deals enticed him into botany. Once 
 fairly in the world of knowledge, he found 
 each path leading to another still more 
 beautiful ; his love of travel grew with the 
 space passed over, and he has gone on 
 
 until there is not a sunny spot in literature 
 or science with which he has not made 
 himself familiar. And then he bears his 
 acquirements with such meekness ! those 
 of his trade about him will never suspect 
 that he is other than one of themselves. I 
 never pass him without i-aising my hat in 
 homage of his worth ; and sometimes 
 while away a pleasant hour in his company, 
 eating oranges, and discussing the merits 
 of the different schools in therapeutics, or 
 threading the intricacies of the rival sys- 
 tems of Linnaeus and .lussieu. Buena Mat- 
 tina ; you are early at work, Pietro," con- 
 tinued the good Samaritan, as we approach- 
 ed the vender of fruit. " This attention to 
 business is praiseworthy ; but we should 
 give the first hour of this day to our great 
 Benefactor, in acknowledgment of the 
 many favours received at His hands." 
 
 " I am within reach of the bells," replied 
 Pietro, " and can send up a prayer here as 
 well as elsewhere ; besides, the best prool 
 of gratitude in the receiver is his enjoy- 
 ment of the good things received ; so put 
 two oranges in your pocket, one for your- 
 self and another for your companion— they 
 are best eaten with a rising sun — and come 
 along with me. An enmity of some stand- 
 ing has broken out afresh this morning, and 
 bids fair to become epidemical among the 
 ?narchands* who sell between the two mar- 
 kets. I have, indeed, exerted my influence, 
 without success, for the restoration of 
 peace ; but the mad-caps will listen to 
 your voice, for they know it was never 
 heard except upon the right side. So, beg- 
 ging your pardon, doctor, let us hurry on ; 
 I woi'ild not that a portion of our popula- 
 tion usually so peaceable, and among whom 
 I count myself, should loose caste through 
 the foolish differences of two hot-heads." 
 
 We crossed to the Levee. It was occu- 
 pied by such Creoles of both sexes as love 
 early walking, with now and then a quar- 
 teroon sweeping majestically by. Little 
 coteries of ,Tack Tars, in neat blue jackets 
 and trousers, clothed its surface, taking 
 observations of the rising sun, whose up- 
 per limb was just clearing the horizon. 
 All were alike indifferent to the hum of 
 distant voices, which bespoke the usual 
 "row upon the Levee." The market- 
 house — which, as a public building, is un- 
 worthy so large a city— was well stocked 
 with all a gourmand delights to find in a 
 second and third course ; and as we passed 
 down its centre, many a bright eye flashed 
 upon us, justifying the remark of one of 
 my city friends, that the market of a morn- 
 ing was not the last place to visit in search 
 of beauty ; and proving that les belles Cre- 
 oles are not unworthy of the reputation of 
 
 * Hucksters, pedlers of small wares, venders of 
 tape, pins, ribands, and fruit. They are of both sexes 
 and colours, bond and free, and are divided into two 
 classes, the sedentary and the peripatetic. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 37 
 
 their great-grandmothers for superior ex- 
 cellence in all that relates au menage de 
 la maison. 
 
 We now entered upon the scene of strife. 
 What a hubbub ! Men, women, and chil- 
 dren ; black, white, and mixed ; carts and 
 go-carts, horses, mules, and asses — the last 
 the more comprehensive genus — are jum- 
 bled together in one glorious " hotchpotch," 
 which word, my Lord Coke says, signifieth 
 " a conimixion of divers things together." 
 The greater number of the combatants ap- 
 pear not to have a very distinct idea of the 
 origin of the quarrel in which they are en- 
 gaged ; and while with one hand they re- 
 turn a blow received, they expose their 
 wares with the other — following up each 
 sacre with a complimentary observation 
 upon the quality of the goods they wish to 
 put off, clothed alternately in each of the 
 five languages of the city. 
 
 " Take that, you old scoundrel," cried a 
 fat dame of some sixty years, bestowing 
 upon a youngster of fifteen a coup de pied 
 par derniere, which quickened a sort of 
 dog-trot into something more than a run. 
 " Six bits, six escaliens ; only six bits ; tres 
 fin, very good, bon ;" and she closed with 
 thrusting into my face a pair of coarse 
 AvooUen hose, which, as the weather is 
 rather warm during the month of April in 
 New Orleans, I declined purchasing. 
 
 " Der teufel !" exclaimed a German ; 
 " wie up-down mein show-case, and alles 
 meine beauties gespielt !" and, by way of 
 making sure of the offender, he dealt out 
 a couple of blows to an ill-starred wight 
 who stood near him in the act of trying on 
 a shirt, in order to convince a chafferer 
 that the article was large enough for a man 
 of his size. The first stroke threw the poor 
 fellow off his perpendicular, but the second 
 brought him up again, so that he could not 
 well complain, and finally concluded to let 
 the matter pass as a joke. " Vill he puy a 
 razors sin paby fur die kleins kinder 1" 
 continued the German ; " Ein thaler vun 
 dollar sallein, huit arcalin, une piastre, pour 
 les de — " a stray projectile meted out poeti- 
 cal justice, and stretched the huckster 
 senseless among his wares. 
 
 " Stop thief ! Arretez le voleur !• Sacre 
 nom de Dieu ! le cochin !" cried a black 
 wench, who sold potatoes, with sausages to 
 match, served up warm ; while a sly rogue, 
 who, in a moment of forgetfulness, had 
 helped himself, made headway for the 
 thii kest of tiie crowd. He was a disciple 
 of Zimmerman, and loved solitude ; but the 
 fates overtook him. The rogue, in his 
 haste to put tlie spoils he had won extra 
 postliminium, had not counted upon their 
 artificial heat, and the consequence was no 
 less injurious to himself than were his an- 
 tics diverting to the sable dame, who saw 
 her right thus summarily avenged. 
 
 " My eyes !"— " Foutre !"— " Who bids V 
 
 I " Schwanhund, trois scalins !" — " Give it to 
 j him !"— " Schurke !"— " Only a dollar !"— 
 " Good fit !"— " Salope !"— " Bloody old vil- 
 lain !" — " Real habeneros, two for a pica- 
 yune !" — " Whiz !" — and thus they have it, 
 pellmell, the moving mass swayed to and 
 fro, while Jack and his messmate, mount- 
 ed upon the rigging of the neighbouring 
 shipping, overlooked the field, and cheered 
 on the combatants, well pleased to see 
 their old friends, who had often squared 
 their accounts with a night's lodging be- 
 tween two gens-d''armes, fitting themselves 
 for a similar enjoyment. 
 
 The good Samaritan stood calmly con- 
 templating the scene before him, seemmgly 
 waiting for one of those lulls which serve 
 as resting-places to the tempest, and pre- 
 pare it for new efl^"orts of violence. He 
 soon caught the eye of one of the most 
 sturdy and active among the combatants, 
 and the lion cowered into the lamb. 
 
 " Make way ! make way for the govern- 
 or ; God bless your soul, doctor, it does 
 my eyes good to see you. The Tower of 
 Babel has here a representative for ever}'' 
 tongue ; and they are belabouring each 
 other for want of an interpreter : and then 
 it is all about a silly woman !" 
 
 The good Samaritan moved forward, 
 and, uncovering his head, bowed alternate- 
 ly from side to side as he passed through 
 the crowd, which opened to admit him into 
 its centre. 
 
 " Conspexere, silent, arrectisque ; auribus astant ; 
 Ille regit dictis animos, et pectora mulcet." 
 
 His mild voice fell like oil upon the 
 troubled waves, and of all the angry multi- 
 tude which stood thick around him not one 
 was found who did not acknowledge the 
 good man's influence. Finding that the 
 fruiterer had not over estimated the moral 
 power of my companion, I ventured to 
 force myself within the circle which had 
 closed about him, for the purpose of learn- 
 ing what could have excited to such a 
 pitch the passions of a class of people who 
 usually err on the side of blandness, and, 
 from long practice in the art of putting off 
 bad wares at high prices, exhibit more of 
 the Jew than of the Irishman in their char- 
 acter. 
 
 The Little Giovanna stood quietly in the 
 midst, her eyes bent modestly upon the 
 ground, and, judging from the roseate hue 
 which mounted even to her temples, rather 
 ill at ease as the cynosure of so numerous 
 a company. Like Helen, she had waked 
 a storm which no spell of hers could quell. 
 Near her stood one of those awkward, ill- 
 shapcn, antiquated market-carts used ex- 
 clusively by the Islenos — a portion of hu- 
 manity with whom the reader will be 
 pleased to be made acquainted hereafter. 
 Attached to the vehicle were a yoke of 
 bony oxen, ruminating upon past events, 
 
38 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 and exhibiting all that soberness of char- 
 acter so typical of the Evangelist. 
 
 The Little Giovanna, now tricked out in 
 far different habiliments than when I first 
 saw her upon a former occasion, had been 
 accustomed to visit the populous area be- 
 tween the two markets at an early hour on 
 the morning of the first day of the week, 
 for the purpose of exposing to envious eyes 
 the finery with which the exercise of her 
 gift enabled her to deck her person. On 
 this occasion an admirer, distinguished 
 among the Islenos for his wealth, with 
 great gallantry requested the fair impro- 
 visatrice to mount his cart, and, after the 
 manner of the earlier Thespians, favour 
 his wondering countrymen with a speci- 
 anen of her art. The little Giovanna un- 
 fortunately yielded to the youth's soft per- 
 suasions ; nothing loath to ensure a vic- 
 tory which, with a woman's penetration, 
 she perceived was already more than half 
 ■won. 
 
 And there she stood ; her flowing tresses 
 not now neglected, but nicely bound in 
 parti-coloured ribands, and twisted into a 
 5cnot behind. Her dress was neat and be- 
 coming, dashed with a little of coquetiy 
 about the waist and neck. Her complex- 
 ion, too, now discovered its tints unob- 
 scured, clear and sunny as an Italian sky ; 
 but her eyes, thank Heaven, were un- 
 changed. The song commenced. The rich 
 Islenos and his friends smiled, then shouted, 
 then stood entranced ; while Giovanna, like 
 her own native "Rusignuolo," poured forth 
 music which thrilled the soul. As her 
 Toice rose upon the morning air, then died 
 away in all the ecstasy of the passion she 
 ■described and felt, the trial was too much 
 for one who had long hoped, but feared to 
 tell his love. 
 
 A young vender of petty finery upon the 
 Levee, who carried his little show-box 
 strapped about his neck, with so unobtru- 
 sive an air as to have gained many friends, 
 even among those of his own craft, had, in 
 an unlucky hour, listened to the fair Pytho- 
 ness in one of her happiest modes of inspi- 
 ration ; and what could he do but love ! 
 Once the merriest of the marchands, he 
 became moody, lost in thought, forgetful 
 of the passers-by, and retired at eve with 
 his case of wares unsold. The world went 
 badly with him; his friends fell off; his 
 small stock of wealth, unreplenished, 
 wasted away. He became negligent, un- 
 cleanly, even in his habits ; his neat jacket 
 and trousers fell into rags, and those who 
 had known him in better days said he was 
 crazed. In return for all this loss, a rich 
 return to him, he was accustomed to steal 
 of a Sunday morning into some obscure 
 stall near the market, and watch the little 
 Giovanna as she fluttered by with mincing 
 steps, conscious of her worth. That morn- 
 ing he was observed gliding to his post but 
 
 a few moments before Giovanna made her 
 appearance, seemingly labouring under 
 some late cause of excitement. He ges- 
 ticulated violently, and muttered to himself, 
 while his eye wandered as if in search of 
 some object on which to fasten its hate. 
 A kind old lady, who sold essences and 
 peppermint drops, interspersed with moral 
 instructions in verse for the instruction 
 of youth of both sexes, and to whom I am 
 indebted for the whole story of the young 
 man's love, suggested, with a sigh, the pos- 
 sibility of his having summoned up suffi- 
 cient courage that morning to waylay Gi- 
 ovanna as she left her father's house, for 
 the purpose of making an unrequited dec- 
 laration of his love. Be that as it may, the 
 young marchand was seen to tear his hair 
 with rage when Giovanna, acceding to the 
 Islenos' gallant proposal, leaped fawn-like 
 from the ground, and stood erect in the 
 centre of his queer vehicle, a vision just 
 lighted from above. As the song progress- 
 ed, and the afflatus grew stronger upon his 
 heart's choice, the tortures of jealousy, be- 
 came insupportable, and, rushing from his 
 hiding-place, he fell, like the maniac of the 
 tombs, upon all indiscriminately. The 
 Islenos were men of metal, and resented so 
 unlooked-for an intrusion upon their pleas- 
 ures. The marchands were unwilling to 
 stand by and see one of their own number 
 drubbed, however deservedly, and thus the 
 melee became general. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE LADY IN TEARS. 
 
 " Oh, thou hast touch'd upon a dreadful ill, 
 Forever open to the light of heav'n, 
 Inexpiable, monstrous, from the mind 
 Never to be effaced, our mournful lot." 
 
 Sophocles. 
 " Her eies full swollen with flowing streams aflote, 
 Were with her lookes throwne up full piteously, 
 Here forcelesse handes together oft she smote, 
 With doleful shrieks that echoed in the skye." 
 Mirror for Magistrates. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Grief. — The Brother's Story. — The Prison. — The 
 
 Interview. 
 
 The good Samaritan and myself return- 
 ed to the Cathedral. The lady in tears had 
 just left the confessional, and joined us at 
 the portal. 
 
 " I am ready," said she, addressing the 
 good Samaritan, " and may God support 
 me in this hour of trial I" The good Sa- 
 maritan would have said amen ; but, al- 
 though his lips moved, he made no audible 
 reply. The lady thanked me when the 
 good Samaritan informed her that I was 
 one of his friends, who would also accom- 
 pany and sustain her in the difficult duty 
 she was about to perform. Her large blue 
 eyes were turned searchingly upon me, 
 as if to inquire whether I was equal to the 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 39 
 
 task, and then were again suffused in tears. 
 ■"Does he know alll" she asked, sobbing 
 aloud. " Oh, my brother ! and must he die 1 
 is there no escape? Good God, that I 
 should have lived to see this day ! Oh, 
 that I might lay down my life a ransom for 
 his ; how sweet would be the refuge of the 
 grave ! Peace, peace ; be still — I shall go 
 mad !" and she wrung her hands in the 
 extremity of grief. Her moans attracted 
 the attention of the passers-by ; she saw it, 
 and with an effort repressed the passion 
 which seemed ready to deprive her of 
 reason. 
 
 " Forgive this forgetfulness," said she ; 
 " yes, I know you will forgive me, for you 
 know the terrible affliction which has over- 
 taken me. My brain is racked with doubt. 
 I resolve, then waver in my resolutions. 
 1 know not whether it is a crime or a vir- 
 tue ; yet, it was a virtue once — and has 
 Christianity wrought a change in the char- 
 acter of the act, or in the opinions of men ? 
 ' This day shall thou be with me in Para- 
 dise.' Christ said it to the thief upon the 
 cross ; and will he not say it to one who 
 i-s less a criminal, though a greater in 
 crime!" Her voice became husky — her 
 words choked in the utterance — she walk- 
 ed forward, making a sign for us to follow ; 
 but her steps were uncertain, and she 
 "would have fallen, had not the good Sa- 
 maritan hastened to her support. He drew 
 her arm gently within his, and they walked 
 on in silence together. It is good to be 
 made acquainted with grief — it wins the 
 soul from the grosser things of this world. 
 But what are the ordinary ills of life, that 
 "we should bewail them 1 How do they 
 dwindle in comparison with the magnitude 
 •of the evil which Heaven, in its providence, 
 poured upon the head of one so young, so 
 beautiful, so capable of the refined enjoy- 
 ments of the domestic circle ! My heart 
 sank within me as I contemplated the men- 
 tal agony of the mourner, forced into harsh 
 contrast with the piercing fife, and rattling 
 drum, and wild laugh, and coarse jest, which 
 now filled the air, as squad after squad of 
 -citizen soldiers, on foot and on horse, pass- 
 ed in front of the Cathedral, and filed off 
 into the Place d'Armes upon our left — yes, 
 the good Samaritan had told me all. 
 
 A young man, a resident of the country, 
 liberally educated, of extensive connex- 
 ions, and fair prospects in life, had visited 
 New Orleans a few months previous for 
 the purpose of passing a week with his 
 city friends. At a dinner given by an ac- 
 quaintance, the guests found each other's 
 company too agreeable to separate at an 
 early hour, and the wine-cup circulated too 
 freely to suffer them to do so in a sober 
 mood. Light with wine, merry, boister- 
 ous, they sallied forth in quest of adven- 
 tures ; and many a watchman sprang his 
 rattle as the revellers swept, with shout 
 
 and song, through the most populous 
 streets of the city. The night was well 
 advanced, when, weary and fleeing before 
 the guardians of the city, they entered a 
 drinking-house, an evil which, in New Or- 
 leans, is to be found at every corner. An 
 affray was the consequence. The manner 
 and cause of its commencement, by whom 
 instigated, all were too inebriated to ex- 
 plain. It closed with the death of one of 
 the servants of the establishment, who was 
 struck down by the young man from the 
 country. The guilty youth was arrested, 
 arraigned, tried, condemned, and adjudged 
 to suffer the last penalty of the law. His 
 widowed mother and a sister — she who 
 leaned upon the good Samaritan's arm — 
 hastened to the city when the story of the 
 son's misfortune burst upon their ears, 
 which listened only for his voice telling of 
 a happy return. The mother came stupi- 
 fied with grief; the evil was too great for 
 her to bear. She would sit for hours ga- 
 zing upon vacancy ; then wonder what 
 could have brought one of her years to 
 town, for her days of vanity had passed 
 away ; and then, when memory returned, 
 and the reality of the dreadful calamity 
 forced itself upon her, she would burst 
 forth into the wildest wo, calling upon 
 death. And what had this poor old wom- 
 an done, that she should be thus visited 
 upon the very brink of the grave 1 Why 
 should not the sun of her existence, just 
 sinking beneath the horizon, be suffered to 
 go down undimmed by a cloud! And is 
 the policy of that people who visit the 
 crimes of the child upon the head of the 
 parent founded in the eternal principles of 
 justice ? The ways of Providence are, in- 
 deed, past finding out ! But the sister, she 
 had youth, and youth is ever accompanied 
 by Hope. Up to that day her courage 
 never wavered. Though the body wasted 
 away, became weak and sometimes failed, 
 the soul within nerved itself against the 
 assaults of fate, and grew stronger in the 
 contest. Her voice was often heard in the 
 still hours of night at her mother's bedside, 
 in prayer, soothing her sorrows ; but never 
 in empty lamentation. She ministered 
 daily to her brother in prison — put to flight 
 his fears — pictured safety in the future — 
 sat at his side in the court-room — searched 
 the countenances of the jury ; and as wit- 
 ness came forward after witness, whose 
 every word heaped proof upon proof which 
 fastened the dead man's blood upon her 
 brother, she probed the testimony, and 
 searched for innocence where, alas! no- 
 thing was to be found but guilt. The bat- 
 tle was for life, and she was equal to it. 
 The evidence closed — the argument of 
 counsel was heard — the judge delivered his 
 charge — the jury left the box, and retired ; 
 as the last retreating form passed from the 
 view, all eyes turned upon the prisoner — 
 
40 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 npon the brother and the sister : there they 
 sat, side and side. His countenance chan- 
 ged — his head fell and rested upon his 
 breast. How much of life was crowded 
 into those few moments of expectation ! 
 It was too much for him to bear. Not so 
 the sister. Her face still beamed with 
 hope — she seemed an angel, with a mes- 
 sage of mercy to fallen man. The crowd- 
 ed court-room was still as the chamber of 
 death. Many a tear flowed, but her eyes 
 were undimmed. Many a half-stifled sob 
 was heard, but it was not her breast which 
 heaved. The ticking of the clock upon 
 the wall became painfully distinct, and sec- 
 onds were lengthened into minutes, as 
 each one counted the passage of time. 
 The jury returned ; twelve honest men 
 drawn from the body of the people. " Jury, 
 look upon the prisoner. Prisoner, look 
 upon the jury. What is your verdict V 
 The prisoner rose, and leaned over the 
 dock towards the foreman. How fearful 
 were the changing passions which chased 
 each other over his face ! " Guilty." The 
 blood, which had mounted to the brain, 
 rushed back upon the heart, and the pris- 
 oner fell heavily and senseless at his sis- 
 ter's feet. 
 
 There was yet a power greater than the 
 court — able to save. The sister embraced 
 the knees of the executive ; she literally 
 bathed his feet with her tears. She asked 
 for mercy, and was told that the law must 
 take its course. Then it was that hope 
 took a last farewell; and the woman, half 
 unsexed, assumed a sternness of character 
 which sat strangely upon one of a make 
 so delicate. Her tears dried up in their 
 sources, and from that hour to the morning 
 of the Sabbath when I first met her at the 
 Cathedral was never seen to weep, never 
 heard to complain. Her days she gave to 
 her brother in prison, preparing him for his 
 approaching passage from this world to the 
 next ; and her nights she passed with her 
 mother in prayer. She was then to visit 
 that brother for the last time — the morrow 
 was appointed for his execution. 
 
 We stood before the prison door — a long, 
 low, dingy-looking building, upon the same 
 square with the Cathedral, but fronting on 
 a cross street. It was built of brick, of the 
 same order of architecture, and apparently 
 of the same date with the church. Many 
 a queer story is told of its first uses, when 
 the priest, under the Spanish regime, was 
 more powerful than the civic authority ; 
 yet it has probably always filled the same 
 office, since a similar building, which flanks 
 the Cathedral on the opposite side, is occu- 
 pied by the courts of justice ; so that Ihw, 
 religion, and crime, the judge, the priest, 
 and the criminal, are here, in their dwell- 
 ings, made to typify that close juxtaposi- 
 tion which is known to exist in society. 
 
 The old gray-headed turnkey bowed re- 
 
 spectfully, and, used as he was to sucti 
 scenes, a shade of sorrow settled upon his 
 countenance as he recognised a face which 
 had so often presented itself before his gra- 
 ted portal. He even endeavoured to throw 
 something of kindness into his manner of 
 turning back the rusty bolts, and swing- 
 ing open the iron door which closed the 
 entrance. 
 
 We passed through a narrow, damp pas- 
 sage-way to a small cell upon the ground 
 floor. The old turnkey hobbled after us 
 and drew the bolts, although it was the of- 
 fice of another, for he said he loved to wait 
 upon the lady. The door swung heavily 
 back, and we stood in the presence of the 
 condemned. There he sat, upon a pallet 
 of straw, in the centre of the cell, gyved, 
 manacled, and chained to its stony floon 
 His head was bowed down and rested upon 
 his knees, which were drawn up so as to 
 serve for its support. How changed from 
 the youth of eighteen summers ! A few 
 short months of mental torture had already 
 impressed upon his vigorous frame many 
 of the marks of age. A pitcher of water 
 and a loaf of stale bread, his daily allow- 
 ance, remained untouched. What a mock- 
 ery ! Do hunger and thirst follow us intof 
 the grave ! 
 
 The lady withdrew from the good Sa- 
 maritan, and beckoning the old jailer to her 
 side, whispered with him apart ; he nodded 
 assent, and left the cell. The good Samar- 
 itan and myself would have followed, but 
 she arrested our steps, and, as the door 
 closed upon us, pointed to a small, narrow- 
 aperture which opened into the passage^ 
 and was designed for the purpose of ena- 
 bling the sentinel to watch, unobserved, the- 
 movements of the prisoner within. We- 
 placed ourselves before it. The lady ad- 
 vanced, and stood before her brother. He 
 moved not, unconscious of her presence.. 
 Where were his thoughts — in this worlds 
 or in the next 1 How much was to be left 
 — the whole of this busy life, its evil ani 
 its good, its joys and its sorrows, crowded- 
 into a few brief hours ! How much was- 
 to be entered upon — the mighty hereafter^ 
 vague, uncertain, terrible, also crowding 
 in, and claiming a divided empire over 
 thought ! The sister stood— also motion- 
 less—and looked down upon her brother 
 with the cold, still, fixed face of death-de- 
 spair copied in marble. It was a fearful- 
 sight ; yet I gazed till her features grew 
 rigid to my imagination, shadowing forth 
 some stern resolve of the mind within. 
 " George ?" The condemned sprang to his- 
 feet. "My sister!" She clasped him ia 
 her arms — hung upon his neck— glued her 
 lips to his — their hearts were in their 
 mouths, and choked the sobs which might 
 have given a relief to grief. The good 
 Samaritan turned to the wall. 
 
 " And I heard a great voice out of heav^ 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 41 
 
 en, saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God 
 is with men, and he will dwell with t1iem, 
 and they shall be his people, and God him- 
 self shall be with them, and be their God. 
 And God shall wipe away all tears from 
 their eyes ; and there shall be no more 
 death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither 
 shall there be any more pain ; for the for- 
 mer things are passed away." 
 
 " George," said the lady, tearing herself 
 from her brother, and resuming her former 
 self-possession, "you have endured much. 
 Those sunken cheeks and that wrinkled 
 brow should have come with the flight of 
 years ; but sorrow changes more rapidly 
 than time. You have suffered much ; but 
 there is one last shame which you must 
 not suffer. For yourself, fo-r me, for the 
 mother who travailed with you in pain, be 
 equal to the occasion. George, it is fin- 
 ished ; we part to meet no more. Have 
 you praye4 ?" 
 
 George raised his manacled hands. 
 " May God forgive me, and have mercy 
 upon my soul." 
 
 " Amen," responded the sister ; and ta- 
 king a small dirk from her bosom, she in- 
 serted the hilt between the iron and his 
 wrist, with its point turned towards his 
 breast. 
 
 " Hold !" 
 
 The condemned extended his arms to 
 their full length, then drawing them quick- 
 ly back, he buried the blade in his heart, 
 and fell without a groan. 
 
 The good Samaritan bent over the poor 
 youth, drew the weapon from his body, 
 felt his pulse, turned aside, and wept like 
 a child. 
 
 I called to the keepers without ; the old 
 turnkey and his assistants rushed in ; it 
 was too late : their office with the prisoner 
 was at an end. 
 
 But the sister] She stood, as before, 
 looking down upon her brother. 
 
 The old turnkey approached, and began, 
 in a querulous tone, to complain of the de- 
 ception she had practised upon him. She 
 put him gently aside. The good Samari- 
 tan offered his arm to conduct her out of 
 the prison. She raised her large blue eyes, 
 and scanned his face as if it had been that 
 of a stranger. 
 
 " My God ! she has lost her reason !" ex- 
 claimed the good Samaritan. 
 
 " Hist ! my brother sleeps," said the 
 lady ; " do not wake him. He has return- 
 ed from a long journey. How sweetly he 
 rests ; yet how changed ! When he left 
 us, that form, now so emaciated, glowed 
 with health ; but he shall leave us no 
 more." And she knelt down by her broth- 
 er's body, and kissed his forehead, and 
 smoothed back his hair, and whispered soft 
 words of endearment in his ear. " He will 
 dream of me," said she, " and will know 
 that I am with him." 
 F 
 
 That was the last that I saw of the lady 
 in tears. She was led out a maniac from 
 the cell, and died a few weeks after, raving 
 of her brother. A sister's love, who can 
 define it ! Less selfish than a mother, 
 more pure than a wife, she possesses the 
 warmth and devotedness of both. She has 
 the softness without the grossness which 
 springs from the distinction of the sexes, 
 and is like the spirits of Heaven, where 
 there is neither marriage nor giving in. 
 marriage. 
 
 CHAPTER XHf. 
 
 THE CEMETERY. 
 
 " Let every one, physician or not, freely declare- 
 his sentiments about it ; let him assign any credible 
 account of its rise, or the cause strong enough, in his 
 opinion, to induce so terrible a scene. 1 shall only 
 relate what it actually was ; and as, from an infor- 
 mation in all its symptoms, none may be quite at a 
 loss about it, if ever it should happen again, I shall 
 give an exact detail of them ; having been sick of 
 it myself, and seen many others afflicted with it." — 
 Thucydides. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Sabbath in New Orleans. — A Festival for the 
 Poor. — The Cemeteries of New Orleans. — Meet 
 the Biographer of the respectable-looking old Gen- 
 tleman. — Epitaphs. — Yellow Fever. — Contrast be- 
 tween January and September in New Orleans. — 
 New Orleans visited with Yellow Fever. — Its Ap- 
 proach, Attack, and Possession. — The readiness ' 
 with which its Ravages are forgotten. — Solomon. 
 Moses. 
 
 The good Samaritan and myself parted 
 at the prison door. We both desired to be 
 alone. He sought his closet ; for such 
 events, as he afterward told me, induced 
 feelings which could be relieved only by 
 prayer. I turned to the crowded thorough- 
 fares of the city, and strove to dissipate- 
 among the light of heart the gloom which' 
 oppressed me. The Levee was active- 
 with life. The merchant was there, en- 
 gaged in his usual pursuits ; and the man 
 of pleasure, whiling away a vacant hour.. 
 But the merry laugh, the buying and sell- 
 ing, the parade of dress, the vacant stare 
 of idle curiosity, the sober, anxious look 
 of business, the rattling of drays, the song- 
 of the negro at his never-ending task, all 
 ill accorded with my feelings, and I sought 
 another quarter of the city. 
 
 New Orleans cannot be said to " groan 
 beneath the weight of churches." With a 
 resident population of more than one hun- 
 dred thousand, one half of which is of the 
 reformed religion, it possesses but eight 
 Protestant houses of worship. These 
 ought to be well filled ; yet one is closed 
 for want of patronage, another — the Epis- 
 copal — is but thinly attended, and a third 
 is the private property of a wealthy Jew, 
 who, with a liberahiy never looked for 
 among those of his tribe, has bestowed the 
 usufruct of hi.s tomple upon the nitural 
 enemies of his faith. Such facts justify, ta 
 
42 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 the casual observer, opinions unfavourable 
 to the morals of the city ; but their causes 
 lie deeper than the surface, and spring 
 from the peculiar structure of its society. 
 The Sabbath, throughout much the largest 
 portion of Christendom, is regarded more 
 as a festival than as a day for severe reli- 
 gious discipline, strict quietude, and formal 
 manners ; and it may be doubted whether 
 that change in the mode of its observance, 
 which was first introduced by the Puritans 
 of England, has been favourable to virtue. 
 The earlier Christians appear in no way to 
 have distinguished the firstday of the week 
 from the five which immediately follow it, 
 excepting as being that upon which their 
 great Master rose from the dead. A con- 
 vert to Christianity was then necessarily 
 also a convert to Judaism, for one is based 
 «pon the other ; and if we take away the 
 Prophets, the Evangelists fall to the ground. 
 But as the new religion extended itself and 
 acquired strength, the first day of the week 
 naturally grew in favour, while the seventh 
 dwindled in consideration until it wholly 
 lost its pre-eminence. The great Church, 
 called the Catholic, whose history is so 
 full of wonders that we should deem it 
 fabulous, did we not know the machinery 
 "with which it wrought — means equal to its 
 ends — soon learned to turn to its own ad- 
 vantage the respect felt for a day distin- 
 guished by an event so important as the 
 first resurrection ; and with an admirable 
 policy, which consulted at one and the 
 same time its temporal and its spiritual 
 interests, it gave a festival to the believer 
 and a holyday to the poor. The poor, 
 wearied with six days of labour, need rec- 
 reation as well as rest ; and a compara- 
 tive view of the statistics of crime proves 
 mirth to be a better guardian of morals 
 than the ascetic institutions of Protestant- 
 ism. The earlier settlers of Louisiana 
 brought with them the liberal opinions of 
 Catholic Europe, and, whether right or 
 wrong, those who have come after them, 
 from whatever quarter of the globe and of 
 -whatever sect, have deemed it wise to 
 adopt the sentiments and the manners of 
 their predecessors. If, then, there is less 
 of church-going in New Orleans than in 
 any other city of equal magnitude in the 
 United States; if hilarity and lightness of 
 heart take precedence of soberness and 
 sectarian severity, the diversity ari«es, not 
 out of any inferiority in virtue, or lack of 
 those moral qualities which render man 
 acceptable in the eyes of his Creator, but 
 from a difference of education, and conse- 
 quent philosophic view of religion and its 
 institutions. It would be diflicult to choose 
 between the comparative excellences of 
 the Sabbath in New England and the Sab- 
 bath in New Orleans : both are fitted for the 
 people by whom they have been respective- 
 ly moulded and made to assume their sev- 
 
 eral characteristics, and both possess an 
 admirable moral influence. If the New- 
 Englarideris more strict in forms, and hedg- 
 es himself about with outer barriers against 
 vice, the Orleanois gains in liberality — in 
 that charity, without which ail else is but as 
 sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. The 
 wealthy Jew, spoken of above, is a fine 
 illustration of the truth of my observations ; 
 and. were additional proof necessary, I 
 might refer to a well-known invitation 
 proffered by a Protestant governor to a 
 Hebrew friend, requesting his attendance 
 at Te Deum. The Protestant and the Jew 
 entered the Cathedral side and side, and 
 were by no means among the least edified 
 by the service. 
 
 As I passed along the thoroughfares of 
 the city I found them crowded with walk- 
 ers, and children playing before every door. 
 It was a beautiful sight ; and on the Sab- 
 bath, too ! the innocent gambol^ of youth 
 are a sweet hymn in praise of the benefi- 
 cence of the Creator. 
 
 I sought the homes of the dead. 
 
 New Orleans has five cemeteries ; of 
 these, the Catholic and two Protestant are 
 unique in plan and method of interment. 
 Each is enclosed with a brick wall of 
 arched cavities, or ovens, as they are here 
 called, made just large enough to admit a 
 single coffin, and raised, tier upon tier, to 
 a height of about twelve feet, with a thick- 
 ness of ten. 
 
 The whole enclosure is divided into 
 plats, with gravel paths intersecting each 
 other at right angles, and is densely cov- 
 ered with tombs, built wholly above ground, 
 and from one to three stories in height. 
 This method of sepulture is adopted from 
 necessity ; and burial under ground is nev- 
 er attempted, excepting in '• the Potters' 
 Field," where the stranger without friends, 
 and the poor without money, find an un- 
 certain rest, the water, with which the soil 
 is always saturated, often forcing the cof- 
 fin and its contents out of its narrow and 
 shallow cell, to rot with no other covering 
 than the arch of heaven.* 
 
 * When burial beneath ground is impossible, sep- 
 ulture above must, it would seem, be resorted to 
 from necessity. But it may be questioned whether 
 the effluvia necessarily arising from the decompo- 
 sition of the dead of so large a city, more especially 
 during the hot months, is not one great source of the 
 fever that frequently scourges New Orleans, and is 
 now the only obstacle to its assuming, at an early 
 day, its natural position at the head of AmericaH 
 cities. It were well for the Orleanois if long custom 
 and the prejudices of education did not forbid a re- 
 sort to the most ancient and reasonable mode of in- 
 terment : I allude to the funeral-pyre and the urn. 
 Interments within the limits of the city, at least, 
 ought to be forbidden. In urbe sepelito, neve urito, 
 says a law of the twelve tables ; and the fourth ar- 
 ticle of a decree of the 23d Prairial, in the twelfth 
 year of the French Republic, wisely prescribes that, 
 aucune inhumation ne peut a voir lieu dans les 4gli- 
 ses, temples, synagogues, hopitaux, chapelles pub- 
 liques, et gene raliment dans aucun des edifices ferm6s 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 The cemetery in which I now stand 
 looks as if modelled after a growing city. 
 The tombs have an air of freshness about 
 them which betrays their newness — no- 
 thing seems of yesterday — the peculiarity 
 of their structure, their close juxtaposi- 
 tion filling the plats like blocks of build- 
 ings, the weJl-gravelled paths between, the 
 wall about the whole, with its numerous 
 receptacles for the dead rising story above 
 story, check the fancy, and almost per- 
 suade the visiter to believe he stands in the 
 midst of a panorama of what the great mart 
 which feeds it is to be. Even the little 
 slabs of black and while marble, affixed 
 like door-plates to the mouths of the tombs, 
 carved with the names of their occupants, 
 giving dates of birth and death, help out 
 tiie illusion — they were all so young, one 
 can hardly believe them to be of the dead! 
 Yet that fact tells a world of sorrow, and 
 discourses more eloquently than could the 
 most gifted tongue, of the true character 
 of that city, which here finds its final rest- 
 dng-place — its comparative newness, its 
 advantages of trade, the great influx of as- 
 piring youth, the periodical visit of the de- 
 stroyer; the periodical passing away of 
 thousands in the bloom of life, while more 
 than thousands rush in to fill their places, 
 again to pass away — again to be more 
 than supplied by new adventurers : thus 
 running a continual round ; a race after 
 death, while New Orleans, unchecked, 
 strides onward towards the goal of its des- 
 tiny. Is man, with all his intellect, a play- 
 thing in the hands of fate 1 Mephistophiles 
 ■would laugh till his sides cracked amid the 
 tombs of the cemeteries of New Orleans. 
 
 I sat myself down by a tomb newly 
 raised, and I'ead the inscription : " Died of 
 yellow fever, 17th Oct., A. L., a native of 
 Hamburg, aged 28." 
 
 " The dead speak to us more eloquently 
 than the living," said one at my elbow. I 
 turned, and recognised in the speaker my 
 late-formed acquaintance, the biographer 
 of the " respectable-looking old gentle- 
 man," accompanied by his shadow, the doc- 
 tor. 
 
 " Those who are buried here do, in- 
 <!leed, warn us of the shortness of life ; yet 
 they speak to us of but one disease," said 
 I, inviting the two friends to take a seat at 
 my side. 
 
 " Yellow fever — yes — ah, it makes the 
 heart bleed to read these dates," said the 
 doctor. " Life was with them, in truth, but 
 a span, yet " how crowded with activity 
 and hope — Hope! where is it? all buried 
 here. Cast your eye along that wall ; of 
 the hundreds who "now rest within it, not 
 one saw fifty years ! They were all for- 
 eign to the state ; and each came an ad- 
 
 ou les citoyens de reunissent pour la celebration de 
 leurs cultis, ne dans I'enceinle des villes et bourgs. 
 
 venturer — a man of promise, freighted with 
 the good wishes of friends, the prayers of 
 relatives, and hoping — what? to amass 
 wealth, return, and die, full of years, at the 
 same hearth which knew their boyhood. 
 The pestilence came ; the little marble 
 plates tell you much, but they do not tell 
 you all. The man dies ; but where are 
 parents, brothers, sisters, wife, children, 
 friends ? The blow which struck him down 
 planted a thorn in their several breasts. 
 The relations of society are more numer- 
 ous than the nerves of the body, and are 
 equally the recipients of pleasure and pain ; 
 multiply their number by three thousand, 
 and you will arrive at some estimate of 
 the sorrow consequent upon one season of 
 pestilence in New Orleans. Were you 
 ever in the city during an epidemic V 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " Then you do not Icnow it. The pen- 
 dulum vibrates equal segments on each side 
 of its point of rest ; and our eight months 
 of bustle, business, joy, fashion, and dissi- 
 pation are followed by a season of corre- 
 sponding quiet, stillness, death. A stranger 
 passing down Chartres-street on a warm 
 sunny day in the month of January would 
 imagine that he had at last found the El 
 Dorado of Francis Orellana, so happy looks 
 every face, so crowded are its walks with 
 the beauty of every clime. Houris from 
 Paradise, decked with all that is rare and 
 costly, shows on every side, the manners, 
 dress, luxury of every people, crowded 
 into one narrow street, with the polished, 
 fastidious taste of France presiding over 
 and harmonizing all. Walk through the 
 same street on a hot, sultry day in Sep- 
 tember. Where now are the crowds that 
 blocked your path, the man of pleasure 
 and of business, tlie beauty that demanded 
 homage and received it, the costly stuffs, 
 the roll of carriages, the busy shopman ; 
 life as civilization has made it, as the con- 
 gregating in cities has made it 1 A pesti- 
 lence stalks through the city, and you start 
 at the sound of your own footfall ! A soli- 
 tary passenger hurries past, giving a wide 
 berth lest contact might contaminate ; or 
 if he speaks, it is only to inform you that 
 the friend you parted with in health but 
 yesterday, he saw huddled into his grave 
 to-day. The shops are closed, for there 
 are no buyers ; and a bit of black crape 
 tacked to a panel of the door tells you that 
 the destroyer has been within. All is sol- 
 itude ; the solitude of the city, not of the 
 forest. The deep forest ! there is a luxu- 
 ry in its solitude; a returning to a stale 
 of nature ; an independence of all beings 
 save one ; a liberation from conventional 
 restraints; the mind is at rest; the heart, 
 the whole body dilates ; we become famil- 
 iar with every stream; the trees know us, 
 the wild flowers are our friends, and the 
 green leaves seem like old acquaintances. 
 
44 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 We look in every sunny spot, and stretch 
 ourselves beneath every shady copse ; we 
 grow better and milder of spirit, so that 
 even the little birds feel conscious of their 
 security, and chirp and carol about as if to 
 give a merry welcome to one who loves 
 what they love, and enjoys what they en- 
 joy. But the solitude of the city, the liv- 
 ing, growing city, is terrible I The trav- 
 eller who visits the seats of ancient great- 
 ness, Thebes, or Tyre, or Babylon, finds 
 but what he looks for. He peoples their 
 deserted places with generations whose 
 names are blotted out with the passage of 
 centuries ; imagination rebuilds the gor- 
 geous palaces which have crumbled be- 
 neath the touch of time, and the busy hum 
 6f multitudes rises up in their midst ; the 
 prince, the slave, the proud soldier, the 
 wealthy trafficker in barbaric commerce, 
 each in his appropriate costume, are there, 
 and he lives in an age of three thousand 
 years ago. The spell breaks ; the picture 
 which fancy limned passes away like va- 
 pour, and the desert is again present to 
 him; but it is not unpleasing: it does not 
 depress, for it is natural. Nations, like 
 men, have their old age, decay, and death. 
 The places they occupied are full of poe- 
 try ; to stand upon their grave is sublimity. 
 Such are not the feelings of. one who finds 
 silence where he expected noise, and vacu- 
 ity where he looked for a crowd. I de- 
 scribe what I have seen." 
 
 " I fear," said I, " what you have said 
 will not induce me to run the risk of accli- 
 mation ; do, then, my dear doctor, tell me 
 what yellow fever is. Is there no escape 1 
 Must all pass the ordeal?" 
 
 " Yes ; persons of every age, colour, and 
 condition ; even Creoles of the state are 
 not exempt from its attack. But do not 
 ask what yellow fever is. See it, and you 
 will know it, at least in its effects.* We 
 of the profession define it, and no two 
 
 * The common course of the fever is to commence, 
 often without any preceding indisposition or premon- 
 itory warning, with a chill, which lasts sometimes 
 half an hour, usually less ; though sometimes it is 
 absent. This chill is followed by high fever, with 
 an intense superorbitar pain, apparently unconnect- 
 ed with great disordered action of The brain, as 
 the intellectual functions are generally unimpaired, 
 though occasionally there is delirium ; a peculiar in- 
 flamed, glossy appearance of the eye, easily recog- 
 nised, but difTicult to describe, a strange compound 
 of muddiness and lustre ; pulse 120'^ ; great thirst, 
 and desire for cold drinks, with occasional vomiting ; 
 pain and heat of stomach ; tongue white on surface, 
 with red edges ; this generally continues, with more 
 or less intensity, from twenty-four to forty-eight 
 hours, when there is a remission of all the symp- 
 toms, and the patient often feels very well. There 
 is often an anxious expression of the countenance, 
 and jactitation. This condition continues from twelve 
 to twenty-four hours, depending very much upon the 
 treatment ; if it recur, fever returns, with vomiting 
 or delirium ; pain in the head ; often suppression of 
 urine ; hoemorrhages ; extreme sensibility of stom- 
 ach; black vomit; death. 
 
 agree in the definition. Science ! Physic a 
 science ! It may be in the books ; what is- 
 it in practice ? utter darkness. We grope 
 about like blind men, and find our way, if 
 at all, by accident. Thucydides has de- 
 scribed the plague at Athens ; Boccacio, 
 the plague at Florence ; De Foe, the plague 
 at London : read them, they are admirable ; 
 and when the horrors they portray take a 
 form and a reality — are around and about 
 you — when you find yourself in their very 
 midst, then do you stand in New Orleans 
 contending with its scourge. Misery, when 
 described, needs only to be added to ; its^ 
 recital is less appalling than its reality. 
 Look above you ; the air is clear, the sun 
 goes down unobscured even by vapour. 
 One would not look for pestilence in such 
 an atmosphere ; yet the sky is as pure, the 
 verdure as fresh, the breeze as tranquil, 
 in our season of sickness ! All is decep- 
 tion ; yo.u stand in the midst of dangers 
 you know not of, and, with the soft air 
 you breathe, inhale a poison destructive to 
 life!" 
 
 " And can there be happiness in the life 
 you describe V said I. " A large city's 
 population in health looking forward to the 
 annual return of sickness ! A sickness 
 which comes, not as it comes elsewhere, 
 in various forms, scattered through all the- 
 seasons, intermingled with health, a gradu- 
 al march from the cradle to the grave, im- 
 perceptible, and therefore unnoticed, but 
 of one form, certain ; certain as the travel 
 of the sun through its course ; universal,, 
 striking down all. Such a life would be 
 well bartered for a seat with Damocles at 
 the banquet-table. I should sit, like Faus- 
 tus, and count the hours, as they fled, till 
 the destroyer came." 
 
 " Is there anything more terrible than 
 the certainty of death V said the doctor. 
 " It is an evil we cannot escape ; it must 
 pass upon us all! Yet you mingle with 
 the busy throng of men, labour, get gain, 
 riot in pleasure, laugh, grow fat, and die. 
 Such is the constitution of man ; and it is 
 wise. The thousands who yearly crowd 
 our city to find a grave, are like the thou- 
 sands who crowd the cities of the Levant, 
 Constantinople, Alexandria, Cairo ; the 
 cities of British India, Calcutta, Bombay : 
 each hopes to live where he knows that 
 another will die. Stay with us, and s^ec 
 the change from health to sickness. As 
 the hot months draw near, the city's dense 
 population grows sparse, like the moon 
 waning from her fulness. The visitants 
 of a season, and the rich, who love life^ 
 leave us. As the summer draws to its 
 close, anxiety increases ; and our citizens 
 congregate in the public places and at the 
 corners of the streets, like the Athenians 
 of old, inquiring after some new thing. 
 ' Has it come V ' Will it come V Rumours 
 start up, are entertained, contradicted, and 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 45 
 
 die away ; the city gradually sinks into a 
 state of repose, and a feeling of security 
 takes possession of all. Then it is that 
 the pestilence strikes, like an armed war- 
 rior in the midst of a sleeping camp ! A 
 victim falls — the fearful fly, but fly too 
 late One hurries on shipboard, with the 
 vain hope of reaching a distant port ; an- 
 other trusts to the power of steam to bear 
 him beyond the reach of disease ; each 
 yields to his fate midway his journey to 
 a healthier clime. One mounts a noble 
 steed, and the horse and his rider are seen 
 flying as if from a battle-field ; fear sits at 
 his back — death follows hard at his heels — 
 safety in the distance — but, alas I that goal 
 is never to be attained. Death bestrides a 
 courser which knows not weariness, and 
 the speed of the racer is vain. Another 
 stands still, stupified with terror, and dies 
 without an eftbrt made for self-preserva- 
 tion. Another shuts himself up, resorts to 
 a system of non-intercourse, enforces the 
 laws of quarantine among his own house- 
 hold, and dies of fright. The pestilence, 
 which at first selected here and there a 
 Tictim, as if to awaken a general terror by 
 the suddenness and desultory method of 
 its attack, now assumes a more regular 
 mode of warfare, and passes through the 
 city by sections ; slow and sure in its 
 march, the door-posts of the acclimated 
 are alone passed by. The city is hushed 
 and quiet as the house of mourning ; si- 
 lence reigns through all its streets, undis- 
 turbed except by the rattle of the hearse 
 and physician's gig ; even the Levee, that 
 busy mart of the products of so many 
 climes, is deserted, and presents to the 
 eye a long, narrow strip of hot sand, un- 
 obstructed by a single proof of the wealth 
 which now covers its surface. New Or- 
 leans is in the midst of an epidemic, and 
 the young giant of the West stands shorn 
 of his strength, feeble, tottering, wrestling 
 with his enemy for existence !" 
 
 " And within one short month all is for- 
 gotten !" said L " Affliction, when passed, 
 usually leaves the prints of its footsteps 
 behind ; but one would look in vain for % 
 trace of them about the streets of your 
 city. Time ordinarily brings with him for- 
 getfulness, but forgetfulness here antici- 
 pates his coming." 
 
 " We become blunted to sorrow," said 
 the doctor ; " we see too much of it to per- 
 mit ourselves to brood over its effects. We 
 learn to forget from a principle of self-pres- 
 ervation, and fly to Democrilus, lest Hera- 
 clitus drive us mad. Were we to mourn, 
 we should scarcely doff" the weeds of one 
 season before we should be called to put 
 on those of another. Use changes our na- 
 tures most strangely ; yet there are scenes 
 which cannot be forgotten. I wish it were 
 otherwise, and the fabled Lethe a reality ; 
 1 would suffer an immersion, were it only 
 
 to blot out the memory of the poor wretch 
 who lies there. Read the inscription. 
 
 " 'S. M.'* 
 " Yes, it is he — Solomon Moses. I was 
 his physician ; the only patient over whose 
 death-bed I have not wept. A physician, 
 like a lawyer, takes a personal interest in 
 his case ; and as he watches the progress 
 of a disease through all its diff'erent stages 
 to its crisis, when the principle of life, like 
 the lambent flame, hovers upon a point, 
 uncertain whether to part or not, the man 
 subdues the profession, and something 
 more than practical skill is concerned in 
 the result. But his death was to me a re- 
 lief ; and I would barter my doctorate in 
 exchange for utter forgetfulness of that 
 small portion of his life, perhaps not the 
 saddest, with which I am acquainted. He 
 died of the last epidemic. I will tell you 
 his story. You may consider it fiction ; it 
 will be the better way to brush it from your 
 memory, should you find occasion. Solo- 
 mon was a Jew, a Hamburg Jew. Do you 
 not hate Jews ? I do. It is an acquired 
 prejudice, of late date. I was born in New 
 England, where a Jew is a natural curiosi- 
 ty ; and, until I came to this city, was dis- 
 posed to compassionate a race whose pres- 
 ent condition is a miracle, more strongly 
 evidencing the mission of Christ than the 
 many he performed while a pilgrim upon 
 earth. But here one comes in continual 
 contact with these outcasts of heaven, and 
 we soon learn that their moral, as their 
 physical character, is little changed from 
 what it was in the days of Pharaoh. Let 
 me tell you a secret. Never trust a Jew 
 until you know him to be a holder of real 
 estate ; he cannot put that into his pocket." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE Jew's story. 
 " Note how, even with the point of a diamond, by 
 what oblique steps and imaginable preparations the 
 High Disposer sometimes contrives the secrets of his 
 will." — Sir Henky Wotton. 
 " Allmachtig ist doch das gold, 
 Auch Moehren kanns bleichen." — Schiller. 
 
 "Tu me demandes s'il y a des juifs en France. 
 
 Sache que partout 6u il y a de I'argent 11 y a des 
 
 juifs." — Montesquieu. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Solomon flies Hamburg. — Arrives at Charleston. — 
 Migrates to New Orleans. — The Doctor makes "his 
 Acquaintance. — Solomon's Stock in Trade. — Sol- 
 omon's Tale of his Brother. — Solomon's Criticism 
 of Smollett's Count Fathom. — Solomon's Anxious 
 Inquiries after the Yellow Fever. — Solomon's 
 Speculation. — Solomon finds the Yellow Fever. — 
 Solomon sells his first Coffin.— Solomon visits the 
 Doctor at Night. — Solomon takes the Fever.— 
 The Doctor's Practique.— Solomon's Death. 
 
 " Solomon was compelled to leave Ham- 
 burg, in consequence of being detected in 
 an attempt to cheat the customs by intro- 
 
 * Qui nunquam quievit, quiescit. — Tac. 
 
46 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 ducing loaf-sugar within the city free of 
 duty. He cut it into small pieces, and 
 concealed the lumps in his mouth ; the 
 loss by dissolution was more than com- 
 pensated by the escape of the excise. He 
 fled ; and, concealing himself on board an 
 American aliip — it is a wonder she did not 
 founder at sea — reached Charleston, South 
 Carolina, in safety. The first person Sol- 
 omon met, on landing, was a Jew ; and he 
 used to say that the streets of that city so 
 swarmed with those of his tribe that he 
 was half inclined to believe himself not yet 
 clear of the justice of Europe. Were you 
 ever in Charleston 1 The people are hos- 
 pitable, noble, generous ; but the city, now 
 much fallen off from its former importance, 
 is in a state of gradual decay, and may be 
 best described as a town noted for the size 
 of its private dwellings, the number of its 
 negro population, its numerous private car- 
 riages, its poverty, pride, and Jews — the 
 last the greater evil of the catalogue. Was 
 it ever supposed that that city was the ap- 
 pointed gathering-place for the race T No 
 other hypothesis- will account for the mul- 
 titude we find there. However, the opin- 
 ion, if ever entertained, has been rejected, 
 for they are fast emigrating to every other 
 section of our country, and the largest 
 stream appears to have set in this direc- 
 tion. Solomon was a man to scent pov- 
 erty as far as a crow will scent carrion; 
 and, soon taking leave of his newly-acqui- 
 red friends, he made his appearance in this 
 
 city in the spring of . It was on the 
 
 twentieth of March of that year that I form- 
 ed his acquaintance. The date is fixed in 
 my memory, for he made a strong impres- 
 sion at our first interview. I was strolling 
 about the city in search of chambers, and 
 
 entered the open hall of a house in 
 
 street, to make inquiries. ' Come in !' 
 said a shrill, piercing, pipe-like voice, in 
 answer to my knock upon an inner door. 
 I accepted the invitation. A little, thin, 
 shrivelled-up ma.* of some fifty years — 
 you know his features ; a Jew's face is a 
 Jew's face all the world over ; pure blood 
 theirs, unmixed since the days of Abra- 
 ham — poorly clad in a dress made up of 
 the odds and ends of a slop-shop, present- 
 * ed himself before me. He bowed with 
 fawning reverence, and hoped he might 
 ' 'ave de 'onour von do me vun leetle ser- 
 vice.' I made known the occasion of my 
 visit. 
 
 " ' Vill de gintleman sit vun five minute !' 
 said Solomon, handing me the only chair 
 in his room ; ' I vill write his name on dis 
 leetle paper!' and he drew a pencil from 
 his pocket, and stood before me in the at- 
 titude of an amanuensis, awaiting the 
 words he was to inscribe. 
 
 " ' Do you keep an intelligence office V 
 I inquired. 
 
 " ' Anyting, ev'ryting, for get monish !' 
 
 said the little Jew, his small, dark, sunken- 
 eyes twinkling in their sockets with the 
 idea of adding to his scanty hoard. ' I 
 hunt monish all my life ; dis vun goot chity 
 — I look ev'ryvere — do anyting — fill all 
 commissions, von cotton to ol' clo' — shave 
 note — hire monish mit deposit, only fifty 
 per cent, per monsh — find lost tog ; goot 
 teal tog lost in dis chity — very poor; al- 
 ways poor — vill you puy a vatch !' and 
 Solomon drew from his breeches pocket 
 an old time-keeper of Romilly's make. 
 " I declined purchasing. 
 " ' Puy anyting else — penknife, razor, pen, 
 seal, finger-ring, breast-pin, fish-hook, tog- 
 collar, shpper, tooth-pick, handkerchief, 
 comb, soap, pomatum V continued the 
 Jew, producing all the different articles 
 enumerated, one by one, from about his 
 person. It was astonishing how he could 
 find stowage for so much, and yet look so 
 attenuated. It was a secret he had learn- 
 ed, as he afterward told me, in cheating 
 the customs of Hamburg. Not at all dis- 
 concerted by a second refusal, Solomon 
 again renewed his attack upon my purse, 
 by attempting to underlease me the cham- 
 ber he occupied at an advance upon his 
 own rent. 
 
 " ' And what will you do with all this 
 lumber, Mr. Moses T said I, looking around 
 the apartment, which was more than half 
 filled with the mixed stock in trade of all 
 the different departments in business he 
 aimed to fill. 
 
 "'Plunder! plunder!' exclaimed Solo- 
 mon, with the affrighted air of a rogue de- 
 tected in his villany, ' I plunders nobody. 
 Dis ish mein lawful gains — anyting you 
 vants V and he commenced turning over 
 and exhibiting the inner parts of heaps of 
 rubbish which the poor of the city would 
 have spurned to collect for comfort. Sol- 
 omon, as he subsequently told me, was sur- 
 prised to find, in looking about him in New 
 Orleans, what he called an immense ex- 
 travagance among the rich, and a corre- 
 sponding blindness among the poor, and he 
 at once resolved to profit by the oversight 
 of both classes. He had, in Europe, known 
 immense fortunes amassed by traffic in the 
 scrapings of the streets of its cities ; and 
 when he saw the sweepings of our stores 
 waiting the public carts, when he walked 
 upon the Levee, and saw its surface white 
 with flocks of cotton which lay unheeded 
 until trodden into the dust and mud, his 
 heart beat with the bright hope of an old 
 Spanish adventurer, when, amid the mount- 
 ains of Peru, he discovered a virgin mine, 
 which only needed working to ensure 
 wealth. But Solomon looked upon the 
 surface of things. He did not understand 
 society as it exists in this new world of 
 ours. Our population is not yet sufficient- 
 ly dense, the rich are not yet rich enough, 
 nor the poor poor enough to sustain that 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 47 
 
 branch of the business of life which, Hke a 
 mule, feeds upon the offal of all the others. 
 Solomon's merchandise found no buyers, 
 and often did he curse that newness of the 
 country, that sparseness of its population, 
 that facility of gaining a livelihood, which 
 rendered his pursuits not only worthless, 
 but a nuisance. I declined bargaining for 
 any part or parcel of his gatherings ; but 
 observing a richly-mounted fowling-piece 
 standing in one corner of the room, inqui- 
 red the price of it. 
 
 " ' Vat, niein gun !' exclaimed Solomon ; 
 ' I no sell him, nein, not for vun tousand 
 tollar. He save mein life.' 
 
 " ' Then you have some fear of burglars, 
 Mr. Moses,' said I, smiling at the idea of 
 thieves pouncing upon such treasure. 
 
 " ' Ich verstehe, I understand,' said Sol- 
 omon ; ' leetle danger of tief mit such 
 goots. But 'tis not for dat I love him ; 'tis 
 for vun sarvice he do me in mein vater 
 land ;' and the little Jew's eyes glowed 
 with an expression of mingled revenge and 
 satisfaction, and his swarthy features grew 
 blacker, as his memory turned back to the 
 event to which he alluded, and brought it 
 in review before him. ' Harkee !' said he, 
 approaching my side, and bringing his 
 mouth close to my ear. ' Mein bruder, 
 mein only bruder vould rob me, and I shot 
 him!' 
 
 - " ' Murdered your brother !' exclaimed I, 
 starting from my seat. 
 
 " ' Nein, nein, not murdered, not murder- 
 ed — quite ; yet it vere veil to do it — rob vun 
 of de tribe ! 'tis deash by de Talmut.' 
 
 " Solomon, when in his palmy days at 
 Hamburg, kept his money and most valued 
 jewels in belts, which, during the day, he 
 wore about his person, but at night depos- 
 ited in a small iron box concealed behind 
 a moveable wainscot near the head of his 
 bed. His brother discovered the secret, 
 and resolved to possess himself of the treas- 
 ure. ' Dat,' said Solomon, ' vasli not vun 
 eMsy ting for to do ; for I sleep mit vun eye 
 open lookin' dis vay — d'ye see ]' and the 
 Jew composed his features to a state of 
 rest, closed his left eye, and imitated sleep ; 
 the right, which was open, remained fixed 
 and motionless. ' It is a false one,' said 
 I ; he immediately reversed the experi- 
 ment. It was an art which he had acqui- 
 red after long practice and much suffering, 
 and was resorted to as the only safeguard 
 to one who lies down amid the starving 
 thousands of a European city. Bolts and 
 bars — what are they against the attempts 
 of men whose wits are quickened by gnaw- 
 ing hunger, or avarice, or a desire to ob- 
 taui the means of slaking those artificial 
 appetiles for pleasure which luxury first 
 created, and long use made necessary. 
 Straws — mere straws — worse than straws ; 
 for tliey induce a false security. The 
 brother knew of Solomon's acquired facul 
 
 ty, and leaped upon him at midnight, with 
 a drawn dagger in his hand. Solomon 
 eluded his grasp, sprang from his bed, and 
 fled to the opposite extremity of the room ; 
 the brother pursued him. Solomon had 
 that day purchased the gun I wished to 
 bargain for of a young spendthrift, a lover 
 of sporting ; it was the last wreck of his 
 fortune. ' He vash starving,' said Solo- 
 mon, ' and I gave him a ducat for it. De 
 poy said it vash true, ha ! ha ! ha ! it vash so.' 
 He made the young spendthrift charge the 
 piece as if to give it a trial, and then de- 
 clined the experiment to save tlie powder 
 and lead; ' dat vash clean gain.' Having 
 deposited the weapon in his bedchamber, 
 he now found an earlier use for it than he 
 had looked for. He had merely time to 
 seize, raise it, and fire ; the brother fell a 
 cripple for life. ' Ha ! ha ! ha ! yesh, vua 
 cripple forever,' said Solomon, and his 
 lank sides shook with laughter. What a 
 fiend! thought I. Solomon had been too 
 much among men not to read the thoughts 
 in their index, the face, and assuming a se- 
 rious air, ' Vash it not right? said he ; 'it 
 vash for mein life.' 
 
 " One may do that from necessity, which 
 he will grieve over afterward,' said I. The 
 Jew did not choose to understand the allu- 
 sion. 
 
 " ' And what became of your brother, Mr. 
 Moses V said I. 
 
 " ' He still at Hamburg,' said Solomon,, 
 'de richest 'Ebrew of de Jews' quarter.' 
 
 " And well he might be ; for, as Solomon 
 said, shortly after the attempt made upon 
 his life, his brother cheated him out of his 
 whole estate in a business transaction. 
 But for this last act of kindness he bore 
 him no ill-will. Solomon would have done 
 the same thing. When two expert gam- 
 blers sit down to play, honesty is out of 
 the question — to cheat is a part of the 
 game. Solomon had purchased of his 
 brother a hundred packages of diamonds, 
 which, on being opened for manufacture, 
 proved to be spurious ; Solomon's venders 
 returned them upon his hands, but the trans- 
 action between himself and his brother had, 
 for certain reasons connected with the cus- 
 toms, been a secret one, and he was ruined. 
 
 " I often met with Solomon subsequent to 
 this interview. His estimation of the mo- 
 rality of others was based upon a conscious- 
 ness of his own utter want of integrity ; 
 and nothing could be more bitter and gen- 
 eral than his denunciations, of which his 
 own nation, as they are the most deserv- 
 ing, so they received the largest portion. 
 Unfortunately, if ill-success, adduced by 
 vice, may be called misfortune, an emigrant, 
 poor, with the debilities of age creeping 
 upon him, he had settled down into a fixed 
 haired of his species. For what end was 
 such a being created ^ From his cradle to 
 his grave a lie had been more familiar to 
 
*9 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 his lips than the triilh ; and as he had been 
 taught that virtue had no beauty, he could 
 see in vice no deformity. He sometimes 
 came to my rooms for a hereditary com- 
 plaint he had, and would sit till late in the 
 Might, recounting stories of the dishonest 
 practices of his brethren, and the means 
 by which such immense fortunes have 
 been amassed in Europe, from sources 
 ?8eemingly the most humble and insignifi- 
 cant ; and, after relating some act of su- 
 perlative rascality, requiring for its design, 
 conduct, and final completion tact and 
 physical courage, as well as utter derelic- 
 tion of principle, he would rub his hands, 
 laugh, and wish he had been made such a 
 JTian. He had a German translation of 
 SraoUet's Count Fathom, which he made 
 his inseparable companion, and was the 
 text upon which all his discourses and 
 tales were a running commentary. He 
 used to say that Fathom was the most ad- 
 mirable character in the whole world of 
 fiction, and that Smollet's novel embraced 
 all those principles and maxims of conduct 
 ■which are best fitted to ensure success. 
 That Fathom was made to be finally unfor- 
 tunate, he attributed not to a just delinea- 
 tion of the natural consequences of crime, 
 but to the policy of a writer, who wished 
 to conciliate the foolish prejudices of his 
 readers. One who knew so well how to 
 delineate a villain, he thought might have 
 imparted much useful knowledge to a 
 friend, and often wished he might have re- 
 ceived the benefit of his instruction. I 
 hated him. I believe I have a proper 
 cliarity for my species — may Heaven for- 
 give me if I am wrong — but I hated the 
 little Jew mortally. He seemed so much 
 to resemble an incarnation of those less- 
 er and more malignant fiends Asmodius 
 speaks of. I avoided him ; and for three 
 months the reptile never crossed my path. 
 
 " It was in the latter part of the month of 
 July, when rumours of the expected epi- 
 demic became rife, that, passing along 
 • street, I saw Solomon coming hur- 
 riedly towards me, with an anxious look, 
 as if he had some important inquiry to 
 make, or communication to impart. 
 
 " ' Ah, toctor, no tead yet ?' said he, draw- 
 ing up so immediately in front of me that 
 I found it impossible to pass. 
 
 " ' Is there such a report, Mr. Moses V 
 said I. 
 
 " ' Oh, mein Got, no ; but the tarn fever 
 ish come ! You no see him yet, toctor V 
 aad the little Jew looked up into my face 
 with the expression of one who wishes 
 that his question may not be answered in 
 the negative. 
 
 " ' Do not be alarmed, Mr. Moses,' said 
 I ; ' if the epidemic comes at all, it is yet 
 too early for its appearance.' 
 
 " ' Alarmt ! early !' exclaimed Solomon, 
 echoing ray words in a tone of disappoint- 
 
 ment. ' Me no alarmt, toctor ; no, te tarn 
 fever no touch me. I vash porn in te filth 
 of Europe — lived in it — 'tish mine element 
 — should 'ave died long go, but 'ave not 
 blood enough to feed him — noting but skin 
 and bone — 1 vish he vash here — too early, 
 did you say, toctor 1 But he will come.' 
 
 " ' Why do you think so?' 
 
 " ' Because everybody say sho.' 
 
 " ' And what reasons do they give for 
 their opinion, Mr. Moses V 
 
 " ' Te best in te world, toctor; 'tis sho 
 very dry, and 'tis sho very vet — 'tis sho 
 very 'ot, and 'tis sho very colt — he must 
 come. Vat you say, toctor?' 
 
 " ' This is the season for rumours. When 
 the active business of the city is over, and 
 men have nothing else to do, they specu- 
 late upon a possible evil ; but, judging from 
 mj'^ experience in these matters, I think 
 we shall have no sickness this year, Mr. 
 Moses,' said I. 
 
 " ' Vash ! no shickness, toctor I Mein Got, 
 I pe vun ruined man!' 
 
 " ' Ruined ! How ? You have not turned 
 physician?' 
 
 " ' Pysic ! tarn pysic ; pegging your par- 
 don, toctor. No, no ; you may kill,' said 
 Solomon, ' I vill pury. Come vun five 
 minute ; look in mein room, den you see 
 vat for I vish him here, dat tam yellow 
 fever. He no come, py Got, I go bring 
 him,' and Solomon continued muttering 
 and gesticulating as he walked like one ill 
 at ease with himself, from some recent 
 disappointment. ' Dere, dere,' said he, 
 throwing open the door, ' he no come, I 
 be vun ruined man.' I started back with 
 surprise. The room in which we had held 
 our first interview was now nearly filled 
 with coflins of all sizes, packed in nests, 
 one upon the other, from the floor to the 
 ceiling. 
 
 " ' You have caught the facility as well 
 as the infection of the country, Mr. Moses,' 
 said I. ' We do not continue long in a 
 sinking business, and thrive by change. 
 Something of a leap from the man of all 
 business to the undertaker.' 
 
 " ' I vill untertake to pury de whole of dis 
 tam chity for half price, and clear vun mil- 
 lion py de speculation, dat I vill, toctor,' 
 said Solomon. ' Let me she : vun tousand 
 cofiin, one tousand people, twenty tousand 
 tollar ; twenty tousand dollar ish fifteen 
 tousand ducat : vun goot leetle sum for 
 nine monsh in dis tam country, toctor. 
 Den I go back and pribe dem tam officer of 
 de excise, and cheat mein bruder for mein 
 property. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Goot !' And 
 the little Jew slapped his breeches pockets 
 as if he had already won the money he so 
 unholily craved, by putting one half the 
 city's population under the sod. 
 
 " ' But, toctor,' resumed Solomon, assu- 
 ming an air of seriousness, ' spose me die ! 
 It may pe ! 'tis possible ! Ve vill all die 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 49 
 
 sometime : it ish too true. Vashyou say, 
 toctor?' 
 
 " ' From the great progress made of late 
 years in the science of chemistry, one may 
 be justified in believing,' said I, ' that a 
 medicine will soon be discovered capable 
 of counteracting the effects both of disease 
 and old age ; in that case, there would be 
 no reason why a man should not live for- 
 ever.' 
 
 " ' D'ye tink sho ? Hope you not find dat 
 secret 'fore next year. Shouldn't like to 
 live mitout monish. Ah I monish ish dat 
 means. Mit monish ve can puy anyting. 
 Mit monish I vould pribe death, and puy 
 out his kingdom. Ah ! get monish, toctor ; 
 get monish.' 
 
 " I turned from the Jew with disgust. 
 
 " ' Vun minute, toctor,' said he, detaining 
 me by the button. ' Your friend die ; he 
 vant coffin ; I sell him cheap. Only twen- 
 ty tollar.' 
 
 " And in what did the Jew differ from the 
 busy population of this great city 1 from 
 the thousands who lie here, his fellow- 
 sleepers in the grave ? — the reward of ava- 
 rice ! Money, what a god ! How potent 
 lo transform ! Beneath its touch, ugliness 
 becomes beauty ; vice, virtue. Even na- 
 ture looks doubly graceful when gilded by 
 its pencil. What is sunshine to the poor^ 
 What the bounteous profusion of Provi- 
 dence 1 Tantalus, standing in water to 
 his throat, dying of thirst. What to the 
 poor man are the beauteous tints of the 
 flower which springs up at Ijis feet ] the 
 -cheerful green of the even plain 1 the soft 
 murmur of the waving forest 1 the more 
 grand and sublime forms of nature ? The 
 mildest breeze is to him a cutting wind, 
 piercing to the heart. Plunger is within, 
 and all without is dark, dreary, desolate. 
 Life to the poor is a mystery ; a pilgrim- 
 age, crowded with trials, wants, sufferings, 
 from its beginning to its end. Life for 
 them has no happiness : why were they 
 •born 1 Why do they live 1 But to the 
 rich, winter is summer ; the rose looks up 
 ■where thorns meet the tread of want ; all 
 created things, even man, put on a smiling 
 aspect ; the world, to them, is a garden 
 made for pleasure. Why do they live 1 
 Why do they not live forever^ Gold, 
 thou art, indeed, worthy the homage of the 
 millions who daily bow at thy shrine, for 
 thou art all powerful, and alone, of all the 
 divinities of earth, receivest a universal 
 ■worship. Solomon, you were right. Get 
 money. I can more than half pardon the 
 errors of the Jew. 
 
 " Solomon, counting upon the possibility 
 of himself falling a victim to yellow fever, 
 had sought out an undertaker, to chaffer 
 for a coffin before an increase of demand 
 should induce a corresponding increase of 
 price. The sum asked for so indispensa- 
 ble an article surprised him, and excited 
 G 
 
 his cupidity. After revolving the matter 
 in his fruitful mind, he took his resolve, 
 gathered up his effects, left the city, re- 
 paired to Cincinnati, and bargained for a 
 thousand. They were made, and he h^d 
 just returned with his adventure, re-ady to 
 take advantage of the first rise in the mar- 
 ket. 
 
 " Soon after this interview, the fever 
 made its appearance. Solomon was the 
 first to inform me of its arrival. 
 
 "'I've seen him, toctor!' he exclaimed, 
 bursting into my bedchamber in the morn- 
 ing before sunrise. 
 
 " ' Seen him ! Seen who V 
 
 '" Vy, te tam fever. He ish come! Ha! 
 ha!' ha! You say he no come! ha! ha! 
 ha ! He ish here, in dis tam chity. I see 
 him mit mein own eye ; ha ! ha ! ha ! I shall 
 die for laugh ; ha ! ha ! ha ! Drizig tousand 
 tollar. dat ish fifteen tousand ducat. I bin 
 sick; ha! ha! ha! How de peoples fly! 
 Vun dis vay, vun dat. Mein Got ! mein Got ! 
 vat a very queer place dis New Orleans 
 ish ! All drink, laugh, sing, and dance in 
 vinter, as if he live forever ; and in summer 
 all tink he die in vun minute! Ha! ha! 
 ha ! I vish I vash executor of de chity.' 
 
 " ' Who is sick, Mr. Moses V 
 
 " ' Te pig merchant in street. He 
 
 die, certain : te first vun alvays die ; and I 
 sell mein first coffin.' 
 
 " The Jew did, indeed, sell his first coffin. 
 The merchant was taken sitting by the 
 side of his wife, playing with his children, 
 and died in three days. I saw Solomon at 
 his funeral, which he attended in order to 
 observe the good appearance made by his 
 ware. The fever now increased daily ; 
 and in the course of my professional rides 
 through the city, I always met with Solo- 
 mon, among the sick, the dying, and the 
 dead : active, full of business, lively, and 
 as happy as a Jew can be when making 
 money. He gained the earliest intelligence 
 of every fresh case. A recovery covered 
 his countenance with gloom ; a fatal termi- 
 nation filled it with joy ; and when the mor- 
 tality amounted to 200 a day, he was in ecs- 
 tasies. Whenever I met him, the salutation 
 was, ' Ha ! ha ! ha ! toctor, Fve sold an- 
 oder coffm !' Neither rich nor poor es- 
 caped his attention ; and I met with him 
 as often watching at the straw pallet of 
 some miserable outcast, that he might 
 chaffer with the authorities he knew would 
 order the burial, as in the apartments of 
 the rich, bargaining with a fresh-made heir. 
 
 " It was late one evening early in Octo- 
 ber, when the fever, which had reached its 
 height, began to decline for want of sub- 
 jects on which to feed its insatiate appe- 
 tite, and when, as if enraged, it assumes a 
 more virulent form, and relaxes its hold 
 with less willingness, that I returned to 
 my rooms, weary, broken down, from 3 
 day actively passed in the duties of my 
 
50 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 profession. I had scarcely retired — I 
 needed rest ; I felt my constitution sink- 
 ing beneath the fatigue of the past, two 
 months — when the door of my cham- 
 ber was thrown suddenly open, and Solo- 
 mon stood before me : his face flushed — I 
 did not suppose his thin body contained so 
 much blood — his eyes fiery, glowing like a 
 maniac's, and his whole frame violently 
 agitated as if by extreme terror. 
 
 " ' Ha ! ha ! ha ! toctor ; he ! he ! he !' he 
 commenced, with a wild, hysteric laugh; 
 ' I got him ! ha ! ha ! ha ! he ! he ! he.' And 
 he laughed, and grinned, and drew his face 
 into all sorts of distortions, and rolled him- 
 self from side to side, as if subject, at one 
 and the same time, to titillation and tor- 
 ture. 
 
 " ' The man is mad !' said I, leaping from 
 my bed. 
 
 " ' Ha ! ha ! ha ! toctor ; he ! he ! he ! 1 
 got him !' 
 
 " ' Got what, Mr. Moses V said I. 
 "'Te tam fever,' said Solomon. 
 " ' And where did you find him, Mr. Mo- 
 ses 1' 
 
 " ' Fint him 1 ev'ry vere ; dere ish no lee- 
 tle hole in dis tam chity vere he ish not 
 fint. Fint him! ha! ha! ha! he fint me. 
 Mein Got, vould it no be vun goot joke to 
 pe puried in vun of mein oun coffins ! 
 how queer I vould look ! Biter bit. Ha ! 
 ha ! ha ! vat vun good story to tell mein 
 bruder ; how he will laugh— he ! he ! he ! 
 ah, oh !' and he writhed with pain. 
 
 " ' How long since you first felt the at- 
 tack, Mr. Moses "!' said I. 
 
 " ' Not vun minute ; I vash veil — alvays 
 veil ; goot appetite ; happy ; I make mon- 
 ish ; had just put vun poor tevel in mein 
 coffin ; screwed him town — all goot — te 
 monish in mein hant — nevar trust — nevar 
 trust him live — vont trust him tead! ha! ha! 
 ha ! goot, dat, toctor. Ah ! oh ! vat shootin' 
 in mein pack ! te monish in mein hant, 
 ven, pop, te tap^ fever got me. First, he 
 cover me all over mit ice, den he ran up 
 and town mein pody mit mealted lead, mit 
 te gout, mit te stone, mit ev'ry pain in te 
 vorld. " Mein Got, you got te fever, Massa 
 Moses," say te old nigger who vash mit 
 me. " Aha, 1 tink sho too," say 1 ; put he 
 no sho cunning ash he spose ; catch a wea- 
 sel asleep ! ha ! ha ! ha !' and Solomon slmt 
 one eye, and then the other, alternately. 
 
 " I asked if 1 should send for his assist- 
 ant. 
 
 " ' He be here soon,' said he , 'can't run 
 sho fast ash me ; I started, nigger after — 
 stop him — mad tog — fire — stop tief — mur- 
 ter, cried nigger. Mein Got, vat a hubbub ! 
 how dey turn out ! up dis street— down dat 
 — couldn't catch me ! ha ! ha! ha ! ah ! oh !" 
 and Solomon sunk, exhausted, into a chair. 
 "The negro now entered, followed by a 
 crowd, breathless, and reeking with the an- 
 imation of the chase. The negro had, in- 
 
 deed, from the sudden manner in which his 
 employer took leave, supposed him to 
 have been struck daft — which often hap- 
 pens in the onset of the disease — and fol- 
 lowed hard in his wake, giving the alarm 
 for the purpose of arresting his progress. 
 1 formed a bier of two chairs, and the ne- 
 gro, with his companions, removed the 
 Jew to his lodgings. 
 
 " Solomon was one of the sudden cases ; 
 he was taken with a chill, immediately fol- 
 lowed by fever, and pains in the head, back, 
 and limbs. I found his skin hot and dry ; 
 pulse 110; occasionally delirious ; tongue 
 white, with red edges ; eyes red and glassy ; 
 bled him twenty ounces ; ordered cold ap- 
 plications to the surface generally ; mus- 
 tard bath to the feet; injections of oil and 
 salt, and left him for the night. On my re- 
 turn in the morning, he had slept but little, 
 yet felt better : pulse 98 ; tongue as be- 
 fore ; skin generally hot, though soft ; rath- 
 er more feverish, with increase of pain in 
 the head ; ordered cups to epigastrium and 
 neck ; he lay very quiet ; spoke not at all, 
 and seemed to have forgotten his coffins. 
 Thus he continued during that day. On 
 my next call, I found he had passed a bad 
 night. Ordered fifteen leeches to epigas- 
 trium, and two cups behind the ears, which 
 gave great relief ; he soon fell into a gen- 
 tle sleep ; a free perspiration ; his eyes 
 were clear, and his expression— if such a 
 thing can be said of a Jew's expression — 
 good. The third day, at ten o'clock in the 
 evening, the negro came to my rooms and 
 called me to see his master. He was 
 worse. On entering his chamber, I found 
 him sitting up in his bed, looking steadfast- 
 ly at the wall opposite. He was rational. 
 I approached tlie bed, and remarked that I 
 was glad to find him so well. 
 
 '" Toctor, vash ish dat?' saidhe, pointing- 
 to some dark flaky matter, like coffee- 
 grounds, sticking to the wall. 
 
 " 1 endeavoured to withdraw his attention 
 from the object upon which it was fixed. 
 The fearful truth flashed upon me, and I 
 wished to conceal it ; but without avail. 
 The Jew turned, and looked fixedly at me 
 with an eye which seemed to penetrate my 
 inmost thouglits. ' Toctor,' said he, in a. 
 slow, sepulchral tone, ' tish finished mit 
 me and mein coffins ; dat ish le plack vom- 
 it V 
 
 " The negro afterward told me that Solo- 
 mon, a short time before I was called, 
 ejected the matter from his stomach, and 
 threw it that distance without strain or ef- 
 fort. 
 
 " ' You vill not deceive me ; you can't 
 deceive me, toctor,' continued Solomon ; 
 ' mein time ish come ; I must die ; no 
 more speculation ; no more ducat. I pid 
 goot py to te vorld, and Moses vill lie town 
 ash his faters laid town von te tays of 
 Abraham, to sleep forever;' and he sank 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 Si 
 
 calmly back upon his pillow, folded his 
 arms upon his breast, and seemed compo- 
 sing himself to pass from this world to 
 that which is to come with the dignity and 
 resignation of a philosopher. 1 endeav- 
 oured to awaken hopes of recover}' ; my 
 eflbrts were answered with looks of incre- 
 dulity and displeasure. 
 
 " ' Can I do anything for you, Mr. Mo- 
 ses V said I, seeing a rapid change coming 
 over him, which told too certainly of ap- 
 proaching dissolution. 
 
 " ' Toctor,' said he, ' I tie mit sunrise ; 
 vill you perry meV 
 
 '"I will.' 
 
 " ' Und in vun of mein own cofRn ■? he ! he ! 
 he ! how mein bruder vill laugh ! ya, in 
 run of mein own coffin ; it vill to ; 'tvill 
 cost noting.' 
 
 " ' Will you lie in the Jews' burying 
 ground, Mr. Moses V 
 
 " ' No, mit te Christian,' said he ; 'I von 
 mein monish from mein enemy, und I 
 vould like get vun leetle bit of lant von 
 him too, he! he! he! pesides, te Christian 
 vill alvays keep te ground, put te Jew — ' 
 and Solomon opened and closed each eye 
 alternately. 
 
 " I promised that all should be done as 
 he desired. 
 
 " ' And put mein gun py my side in mein 
 coffin, veil sharged ; should vun person met- 
 tle mit mein poddy, it might go off ! he ! he ! 
 he ! vun goot idea. Mein bruder, if he 
 come, vill open mein coffin to fint te pelts 
 I vears, he ! he ! he ! it vould make me laugh 
 in mein grave ; he look for monish, und 
 fint ball ! he ! he ! he ! Now, toctor, vun 
 last request : vill you write mein vilH' 
 
 " ' I will call a notary,' said I. 
 
 "'Vill te notary take vun coffin for his 
 pay?' said Solomon; 'ah! te tam coffin. 
 If I live for pury five hundret more, I 
 vould die mit satisfaction; put ve never 
 prepared. No, toctor, you shall write 
 inem vill, and pe mein executor.' 
 
 '' ' Who are your heirs, Mr. Moses V 
 
 " ' I 'ave put vun, and dat ish mein bruder.' 
 
 " ' What, the cheat ? he who would have 
 robbed and murdered you at night ? you 
 will not give him your property V said I. 
 
 " ' Toctor, you ish no Ishraelite,' said Sol- 
 omon ; ' you not understand mein feeling. 
 For zwei tousand year mein racn is vun out- 
 cast on te face of te earth ; if ve hate te 
 Christian, 'ave we not cause ! Te Christian 
 taught us to scheet to live, and ve are lived 
 to scheet vun anoder — he ! he ! he ! I nevar 
 repent put vunce, und dat vash ven I give 
 alms to vun starving Christian — vun curse 
 upon te race ! I vill give all to mein bru- 
 der; it ish vun goot consolation to know 
 dat mein heir ish rich.' 
 
 " ' He will take it by right of succession, 
 without a will,' said I. 
 
 " ' You vill promish to teliver it into hish 
 hant, toctor V 
 
 " I promised. 
 
 " ' Take hish terection, toctor : Levi Mo- 
 ses, No. 164 strate, Hamburg ; und 
 
 here ish mein monish, mein all, pesides te 
 tam coffin — he ! he ! he ! Moses 'ave done 
 veil, goot, very goot !' he continued, rais- 
 ing himself up ; and with a trembling hand 
 he drew out from within the mattress on 
 which he lay a well-filled canvass bag. 
 He held it up, and examined the tie of the 
 string about its mouth. It was all right ; 
 he sank back upon his pillow, and clasped 
 it to his breast. ' Ah ! mein Got ! mein 
 Got !' he exclaimed, ' must ve part, mein 
 pest, mein only frient !' 
 
 " I endeavoured to call his thoughts to a 
 contemplation of the next world. 
 
 " I die vun Sadducee I' said he. 
 
 " The first ray of the rising sun entered 
 the bedchamber. The Jew drew the bag 
 to his lips, kissed it, and mourned aloud. 
 His breathing became difficult ; 1 ordered, 
 the negro to take the bag from him. 
 
 " ' Murter ! mein bruder ! give me light ! 
 ropper ! mein Got ! die ! Moses vill not 
 die !' he exclaimed, leaping from his bed, 
 with the bag clutched by both hands, with, 
 the firm hold of death. He stood for a 
 moment, his eyes fixed and glaring, as if 
 upon an object of terror. ' How dark it 
 grows !' said he ; fell back, and expired. 
 May God have mercy on his soul. 
 
 " I obeyed Solomon's instructions. He 
 lies there, with the gun at his side. The' 
 canvass bag contained near five thousand 
 dollars, mostly in gold, the result of his 
 venture in coffins. I wrote to his brother, 
 and put an advertisement in the Hamburg 
 newspapers. Six claimants started up, all 
 asserting themselves to be Solomon's 
 brother, and each backed by proof enough 
 to hang a hundred innocent men. The 
 matter has gone into our courts of law, 
 and when litigation is ended little will be 
 left of Solomon's ill-gotten gains." 
 
 " The doctor sometimes tells that storyr 
 differently," said the lawyer. 
 
 " It is horrible enough as it is," said I. 
 
 " He did say," continued the lawyer, 
 " that he forgot the Jew's gun at the burial, 
 and afterward carried it to his grave, with 
 the intention of laying it upon his coffin, 
 when Solomon knocked oflF the lid, seized 
 the weapon, carefully stowed it away in. 
 its place, and calmly resumed his former 
 position." 
 
 " Let us go to the theatre !" said the- 
 doctor. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE STRANGE GENTLEMAN. 
 
 'Fond worldlings there, involved in vain delight, 
 Who to the senses Iraile indulgent are, 
 
 And (as soft sounds the courage do invite), 
 With measured inadnesse inarch ujjon the aire." 
 
 Stikling. 
 
52 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Music. — The Theatre. — The Strange Gentleman. — 
 An Accident. — The Strange Gentleman at Home. 
 —The Opera. — Leonie. — Music and Poetry. — The 
 Mar.seillaise Hymn. — The .S\ippcr. — Good Breed- 
 ing. — Poets and Philosophers. — Hi.storians and 
 History. — The Dance. — The Judgemnt of Paris. 
 La Sylphide. — La Cachuca. 
 
 From the cemetery to the theatre ! and 
 of a Sabbath evening, too ! Both the time 
 and the contrast are equally cliaracteristic 
 of the city I describe. So true it is, that 
 the manners and opinions of a people are 
 best studied in the most common and ev- 
 cry-day acts of life. Neither the doctor 
 nor the lawyer was of that portion of the 
 population of New Orleans whose distinc- 
 tive character has coloured that of all the 
 rest. So true it is, again, that emigrants, 
 however diversified in extraction and edu- 
 cation, soon mould themselves to the cus- 
 toms of a new home, put off old habits, and 
 receive, instead of giving a lone to socie- 
 ty. In the French quarter it is fashionable 
 to go to the opera on Sunday evening. 
 Then it is that the '' dress circle" is most 
 graced, and the players excited to emula- 
 tion by a crowd which fills the " Temple" 
 from pit to ceiling ; but the Americans re- 
 tain many of the scruples of an early edu- 
 cation, and their theatres are then patron- 
 ised almost entirely by strangers. 
 i The doctor was a lover of the opera, 
 and kept his "box." "Music," he said, 
 " was the most refined, subtile, and pure 
 of all the pleasures of the senses ; and, as 
 he could not conceive how an enjoyment 
 ■which depended so much upon the physi- 
 cal structure of the body could exist in our 
 spiritual state, he thought it wise, and to 
 be in a measure his duty, to secure as 
 much of it in this life as possible." He 
 never missed the leader's first note, and 
 sat, during the whole performance, with 
 his eyes closed, and his head reclining 
 upon the cushioned rail, wrapped in elysi- 
 um. The pantoiiime of an opera was 
 nothing to him. He said " that the ges- 
 tures and grimaces of the actors interfered 
 \witli and lessened the effect of the music ; 
 that it was impossible to gratify, to their 
 utmost capacity for pleasure, any two of 
 the senses at one and the same time ; that 
 the words of an opera, however admirable 
 as a poetical composition, added nothing to 
 its effect, and Avere of use only as being 
 the model upon which sounds are con- 
 structed." He made the poet subservient 
 to the composer, and esteemed his verse 
 merely as the setting which held together 
 and exhibited to the best advantage the 
 diamonds of his colaberator. The doctor 
 possessed the two opposite passions of 
 love and hate in an extreme degree ; the 
 first he gave to music ; the other, judging 
 from the story he had just told, to the 
 Jews. The lawyer was the opposite of 
 liis friend. His sympathies were with Sol- 
 
 omon, and he was accustomed to say that, 
 throughout the entire history of the con- 
 flict between the Jew and the Christian, 
 the Israelite was the wronged, as well as 
 suffering party, with scarcely a shadow of 
 justification for those whose religion pro- 
 fesses to be founded in charity. He could 
 not distinguish one note from another, and 
 said that the doctor's passion for music 
 was to him inexplicable ; for he played 
 upon no instrument, and would probably 
 fail if he should make the attempt. 
 
 The doctor ridiculed the objections of his 
 friend, and explained the mystery by say- 
 ing, '• That there were two qualities requi- 
 site for the appreciation of music ; one 
 physical, and seated in the ear, the other 
 purely mental. An artist may perform 
 well, and yet not be so exquisitely sensi- 
 tive to the pleasure of the tones he produ- 
 ces as one who is incapacitated, by phys- 
 ical defect alone, from performing at all. 
 It is only when both quahties meet in the 
 same individual that a Paganini or a Mo- 
 zart is found. The magnificent rhythm of 
 Thomson's verse," continued the doctor, 
 " proves that he had a fine mental percep- 
 tion of music, yet he was not even a toler- 
 able reader of his own • Seasons.' The 
 first of English actors could modulate his 
 voice to the expression of every passion, 
 but he could not compose a song." 
 
 We now entered the theatre ; it is in 
 Orleans-street — a small building, without 
 any pretensions to beauty or regularity of 
 style in architecture ; but, as New Orleans 
 is the only city in the United States where 
 French plays and the French Opera are 
 performed, we cannot ask why its patrons 
 have done no more. The hour was early, 
 yet we found pit and boxes already filled 
 with the elite and beauty of the French 
 quarter, interspersed, here and there, with 
 a representative from the American. When 
 the opera commenced the whole audience 
 seemed composed of amateurs, so profound 
 was its attention, and so much enjoyment 
 was depicted upon the faces of all. I felt 
 transported to a European city — the lan- 
 guage sung was foreign to my ear, and the 
 features and dress of those about me equal- 
 ly foreign to my eye. The mustached lips 
 of the men, the richness of their toilet — 
 which had neither the plainness nor that 
 nice keeping in colours which mark the 
 American or English gentleman — the dark 
 hair, dark eyes, and somewhat dark com- 
 plexion of the women, with the exquisite 
 taste and set of the Frencli millinery, car- 
 ried me to Paris; everything was Parisian 
 about me, and I was, in spirit, three thou- 
 sand miles distant from American soil : 
 so easy it is in this, the most unique of 
 cities, to pass, in a walk of five minutes, 
 from Dover to Calais, or from New- York 
 to Madrid ; even the German boor may 
 find the clogged pattens and guttural patois 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 53 
 
 of his own Dorfschaft without wandering 
 far in the search. But Creole beauty lo- 
 ses by collection. The same embonpoint 
 of feature, the same bright black eyes, and 
 the same smoothly-combed, dark, glossy 
 hair, produced a uniformity of expression 
 — a strong family likeness— and might in- 
 duce a stranger to suppose their fair own- 
 ers all sisters : like the peach, the most 
 luscious of fruits, it shows to the best ad- 
 vantage in the single specimen, and clogs 
 the eye when exhibited in clusters. 
 
 More attracted by the novelty of the 
 show about me than by the music of the 
 opera — for in such matters 1 possess a 
 taste much similar to the lawyer's — I pass- 
 ed the evening in scanning the new world of 
 fashion in which I found myself. A gentle- 
 man who occupied a box opposite our own 
 most strongly fixed my attention. Although 
 the house was otherwise crowded in every 
 part, he sat alone, unobtruded upon, recog- 
 nised by, and recognising no one. His 
 dress, though rich and in high fashion, was 
 plain, and had an air of neatness which es- 
 chewed all attempt at show or dash. Of 
 a tall, slim person, with dark brown hair, 
 combed rather carefully back from a high, 
 marble forehead, with marked, heavy fea- 
 tures of a pale cast, he had the appearance 
 of a man of wealth, refinement, and ton ; 
 of one who had gained much from educa- 
 tion, and more from nature. Born, per- 
 haps, to fortune, and familiar with high so- 
 ciety from his birth, he had, by the aid of 
 good taste, corrected the grosieretes which 
 are to be found even there, reduced good- 
 breeding to a science, and, having system- 
 atized its somewhat arbitrary laws, applied 
 them to their legitimate end — the securing 
 of happiness to ourselves, and the impart- 
 ing it to others with whom we come in 
 contact in the interchange of the business 
 and civilities of life. 
 
 I asked the lawyer who the gentleman 
 was — the doctor was too much wrapped 
 in music to answer my questions. 
 
 '• No one knows who he is, that ever I 
 could find out," said the lawyer. " As you 
 see him now, so you might have seen him 
 for more than a year past — lounging in his 
 box, himself the sole occupant — listening 
 to the music and watching the movements 
 of the opera with an air of nonchalance, 
 as if he had studied of Epicurus, and pleas- 
 ure witli him was not a matter of excite- 
 ment — noticing no one, although many a 
 glass is turned stealthily upon him, in 
 hopes to solve the mystery. He is called 
 ' the Strange Gentleman." " 
 
 As the doctor, the lawyer, and myself 
 were leaving the theatre at the close 
 of the night's performance, we saw the 
 strange gentleman enter a light phaeton, 
 which stood among a crowd of carriages 
 at the door. The horses were restiff, and 
 getting entangled among the city cabs, be- 
 
 came frightened, and refused to obey the 
 bit. The altercation of the cabmen had no 
 tendency to quiet their fears, and the phae- 
 ton, notwithstanding many skilful attempts 
 made by the stranger, who had assumed 
 the reins to extricate himself, was soon 
 overturned. The doctor, followed by the 
 lawyer and myself, hastened to learn the 
 consequences of the accident, and, pushing 
 through the crowd which had gathered 
 about him, we found the stranger lying 
 upon the pavement, insensible. The doc- 
 tor assumed the authority of his profession, 
 put back the throng, felt the gentleman's 
 pulse, ordered him to be carried into a 
 neighbouring house, bled him, and, by ap- 
 plication of the means ordinarily used in 
 such cases, soon restored consciousness 
 and health. The gentleman had, in reali- 
 ty, suffered but little injury by the acci- 
 dent, and after expressing his gratitude for 
 our kind services, he warmly pressed us to 
 accompany him to his house and sup with 
 him. It was already past eleven, but he 
 said it was his hour; and although the doc- 
 tor excused himself on account of a pa- 
 tient he wished to call upon, and the law- 
 yer on account of a brief he was to argue 
 in the morning, I accepted the invitation. 
 
 The strange gentleman's house, which is 
 
 in street, is the only pure specimen of a 
 
 peculiar style of Spanish architecture, call- 
 ed the " entre suelo," now reinaining in 
 the city. The first, or ground floor, he ap- 
 propriates exclusively to his horses ; the 
 second, or " entre suelo," to the stowage 
 of grain and hay, and for servants' rooms ; 
 while the third, or upper story, contains 
 his own private apartments : thus retain- 
 ing, in the disposition of the different parts 
 of his house to their several uses, the ori- 
 ginal design of its architect. The same 
 economy of arrangement is still retained 
 in many parts of old Spain and the south 
 of France, and elucidates numerous pas- 
 sages of the older Spanish romances which 
 would be otherwise inexplicable. The 
 first and third stories are high and airy, 
 while the second is but a half story thrust 
 in between the other two. An iron balcony 
 projects from the third floor, and encircles 
 the house ; a promenade from which a lady 
 may look down upon the streets below with- 
 out being subjected to the gaze of the 
 passers-by. It must, indeed, have required 
 a silken ladder of some length to mount to 
 such a height, and much caution on the 
 part of the venturous lovers to escape the 
 observation of vigilant servants below ; 
 while the old don, on discovering the flight 
 of his bird, might easily descend, saddle a 
 steed, and follow in hot pursuit, without 
 allowing time for an English squire to pass 
 from his house to his stables. 
 
 The strange gentleman drove within the 
 building, and we alighted at a marble step, 
 leading by a side door into a narrow hall. 
 
54 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 at the end of which a steep flight of stairs 
 ascended, without break or resting-place, 
 from the first to the third floor. 
 
 " You live in a fortified place," said I, as 
 we readied the landing half out of breath ; 
 " one might as easily scale a wall as this 
 staircase." 
 
 " It does, indeed, little comport with our 
 ideas of comfort and convenience," replied 
 the stranger; "but it is significant of the 
 character of the people who introduced and 
 use it. No man would live upon tlie top of 
 his house who was not jealous of his wife, 
 nor willingly subject hiniself to such an 
 ascent twenty times a day, did he not think 
 the fatigue more than compensated by the 
 capacity of surveying at a glance the whole 
 extent of so efficient an aid to an intrigue. 
 This would not do for a man of family ; 
 but a bachelor, who loves retirement, can- 
 not be better situated ; the very difficulty 
 of getting to you keeps out intruders," con- 
 tinued the stranger, showing me into a 
 large, well-proportioned room, furnished 
 with whatever the wit of upholstery ever 
 invented to pander to ease and sensual en- 
 joyment : luxurious chairs, sofas, and otto- 
 jnans, cushioned with tapestry represent- 
 ing the history of Cupid and Psyche ; a 
 magnificent Turkey carpet, soft as eider to 
 the tread ; pictures old enough to be by the 
 old masters ; while four large mirrors, hung 
 opposite each other on either wall, multi- 
 plied the apartment in every direction, un- 
 til it was lost in distant perspective. 
 
 My host conducted me to a seat, and, re- 
 clining languidly upon a sofa, ordered a 
 slave who stood in waiting to bring a bot- 
 tle of hock wine. 
 
 '• Hock, like olives," said he, "quickens 
 the sensibility of the palate, and it will give 
 me much pleasure to be permitted to drink 
 a glass with you prior to supping." 
 
 I alluded to the opera. 
 
 " The opera," said the strange gentle- 
 man, " combining, as it does, two arts pro- 
 ceeding from th-^ loftiest qualities of the 
 mind, is at once the most artificial and 
 most perfect of man's intellectual crea- 
 tions. Music, like poetry, is incapable of 
 being defined. The difficulty consists part- 
 ly in the barrenness of language, its inabil- 
 ity to give expression to many of our 
 highest thoughts and feelings, and partly in 
 ourselves. One who is devoid of musical 
 taste would hardly understand what it is 
 were it most clearly defined, and he who is 
 blessed with the Divine gift needs no other 
 definition. Language is not subtile enough 
 nor flexible enough to comprehend it ; nor 
 does the resemblance end here. Poetry is 
 one and the same to all, as the sun is one 
 and the same to all ; seen with a clear or 
 more obscure vision. It is confined to no 
 class of objects, and dwells equally with 
 life, decay, and death ; music walks hand 
 in hand at her side." 
 
 The slave returned, bearing the wine and 
 three appropriate glasses upon a silver 
 waiter. My host's luxury extended even 
 to his wine cups : they were cut of an octa- 
 gon shape, and upon each face was ground 
 a scene from the Orgia of Bacchus. Men 
 and women, sileni, satyrs, and Maenades, 
 crowned with vines and ivy, brandished the 
 thyrses, and danced around the soft and 
 graceful form of the naked deity to the 
 tones of flutes and tymbrels. 
 
 " The third glass is for Leonie," said the 
 strange gentleman, filling it with wine ; 
 " though she seldom touches the nectar to 
 her lips, I always pour a libation to her ; 
 and here she comes to acknowledge my 
 worship." 
 
 As the stranger spoke, a beautiful wom- 
 an of some eighteen summers entered the 
 room, and walked hurriedly towards us. 
 
 " John, I was told you were hurt I" said 
 she, in a tone of mingled anxiety and sur- 
 prise, while she contrasted the stranger's 
 disordered and soiled dress with the pleas- 
 urable occupation in which he was en- 
 gaged. 
 
 The strange gentleman rose, and intro- 
 duced me as one who had extended to him 
 much kindness on the occasion of the late 
 accident. " Will mademoiselle sit ?" and 
 he handed Leonie to a seat at his side upon 
 the sofa. 
 
 Leonie was a brunette, with just enough 
 of colour to give ripeness to her beauty. 
 One would have said that she was a native 
 of the south of Italy, or those parts of 
 Spain which yet retain a mixture of Moor- 
 ish blood. In stature rather above the 
 medium size, her form was full, round as 
 chiselled marble — perfect; perhaps I might 
 better express its eff"ect as a whole, set oft" 
 as it was by a richness of dress and super- 
 fluity of ornament which was far from be- 
 ing attic, by saying it was magnificent. 
 Her features, although a little irregular, 
 approached the Grecian nearer than any 
 other model, and her large dark eyes, fine- 
 ly arched brows, and straight jetty hair, 
 put up a la grace, improved the resem- 
 blance. Her hands were rather too small 
 to be in just proportion with the other parts 
 of her person : a fault which, if it is one, 
 she was not unwilling should be observed, 
 for her little taper fingers were loaded 
 with precious stones, showing that the 
 stranger, for whom she dressed, approved 
 in woman a departure from that severity 
 of taste which regulated his own toilet, 
 and that his mind was not wholly free from 
 a stain of Asiatic barbarity, whicH loves to 
 heap pearl and gold upon the soft object 
 of its pleasures. 
 
 " I was in truth not much hurt, Leonie," 
 said the strange gentleman ; " though the 
 accident^ was an awkward one, and threat- 
 ened more serious consequences. Had 
 you have been with me, you might have 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 55 
 
 managed the horses better; for one who 
 knows so well how to curb a more in- 
 tractable animal should hold the reins 
 with no unskilful hand. Come, you will 
 take wine with my guest ; he sups with us 
 to-night, and I do not wish to see you with 
 too dainty an appetite at the table," con- 
 tinued my host, presenting the glass. 
 
 " I rule by following where you lead, 
 and drink wine that you may learn absti- 
 nence," said Leonie, smihng archly, while 
 she touched the divine Johannesberg to 
 her lips. 
 
 " We were speaking of the opera, Le- 
 onie," said the strange gentleman, return- 
 ing to the conversation which her entrance 
 had interrupted ; " and you will permit me 
 to run on in my way upon a subject which 
 we both love so much. The foundation of 
 music is rhyme and harmony : of poetry, 
 beauty ; beauty as abstracted from all ob- 
 jects, feelings, passions^ thoughts," he con- 
 tinued, resuming the parallel he had drawn 
 between the two arts. " There can be no 
 sublimity without beauty ; or, rather, sub- 
 limity is beauty of the noblest kind. Har- 
 mony is beauty — T speak of abstract qual- 
 ities — true passion is, therefore, beauty; 
 for we perceive its harmony with the 
 cause which gave rise to it, and the char- 
 acter in which it is exhibited. The inti- 
 mate connexion existing between music 
 and poetry may be traced in all their vari- 
 ous exhibitions, showing that they are in- 
 deed so nearly allied in nature that we 
 must wonder, not that they were in the be- 
 ginning invariably joined together, but that 
 the perfection of the compact was attained 
 at so late a date. There is a poetry which 
 seems not of this world, but to be altogether 
 of heavenly birth ; a song to be sung where 
 all is pure and holy. It has no sympathy 
 with the realities of life, sickens in our 
 murky atmosphere, and flies the haunts 
 of men. Its sweetest notes are heard in 
 the retired vale, or on the tops of distant 
 mountains, where the busy hum of men 
 does not come up and mingle their evil 
 passions, desires, gains, losses, and cares, 
 with its strains. There is a music, too, 
 which delights in retirement : the shaded 
 ■walk at noon, the lonely grot, whose tones 
 seem attuned to the twinkling stars, and to 
 love the wild and fanciful creations of na- 
 ture. Is it not so, Leonie 1 No one can 
 better appreciate what I am saying than 
 yourself ; do, then, please me, lend me 
 your aid, and exemplify to our friend the 
 truth of my remarks." 
 
 Leonie rose, and seating herself at the 
 piano, struck the keys. It was a short 
 Scottish air, so pure, so soft, so clear, so 
 mild and gentle in every tone, that I feared 
 lest a breath might break its melody, as 
 the notes floated upon the air like the sin- 
 gle web (A the spider — too delicate for 
 other touch than that of vision. 
 
 " But poetry has a wider range," contin- 
 ued the stranger. " It proceeds from all 
 nature, and is a part of all her works. 
 Every object, animate and inanimate, every 
 passion and affection of the mind, all the 
 different states of created things, are its 
 subjects. W'e find it in the crowded as- 
 sembly, mingling in the occupations of 
 men, rejoicing in their success, and mourn- 
 ing over their misfortunes. The same 
 may be said, with equal truth, of music. 
 There is a poetry which is purely didac- 
 tic — listen to the compositions of Henry 
 Purcell. There is a poetry which is pure- 
 ly imaginative — Leonie has given us a 
 specimen from a similar department in 
 music. There is a poetry distinguished 
 for grace, expressive taste, and sensibility; 
 so also is the music of Tartini. There is 
 the poetry of Ariosto's great poem ; it 
 stands alone, protean in its character: of no 
 school, yet embracing all. Such, also, is 
 the music of Rossini. There is a poetry 
 of maimers, of men, and society, which 
 correctly depicts the customs of the times, 
 and satirizes with an even stroke its foi- 
 bles ; which delights by its humour, and 
 satisfies by apt illustration ; the poetry of 
 Chaucer, of Hudibras, of Pope, of Boileau, 
 of Horace, and of A ristophanes ; such, also, 
 was the music of Damon, which Plato as- 
 serted could not be changed without chan- 
 ging the constitution of the state. Again, 
 there is a poetry of empires and kingdoms, 
 which sings their rise and fall, with their 
 causes ; the strifes of the ambitious, thfe 
 triumphs of the successful, the utter ruin 
 of the conquered — is there not a corre- 
 sponding class of music 1 Leonie, play 
 the Marseillaise Hymn." 
 
 Leonie passed from the piano to the or- 
 gan. The music rose and filled the room ; 
 the full notes pealed upon the ear, crowd- 
 ing upon each other in hurried succession, 
 varying with the passions of the stern re- 
 publicans who, goaded to madness by the 
 sting of tyranny, poured out blood like wa- 
 ter, now swelling with triumph, and now 
 sinking, not with fear of defeat, but in low, 
 plaintive tones of evils endured. The 
 whole history of the French revolution 
 passed in wild and gloomy review before 
 me, act by act, called from their graves by 
 the sorcery of association. The stranger 
 sat looking out upon vacuity — his lips firm- 
 ly pressed together — his features pale, fix- 
 ed, stern ; he felt as the actors in that great 
 drama felt : how deep and fearful were 
 the emotions which then held sway in his 
 breast! Such is the power of sounds. Even 
 Leonie's dark eyes flashed with the excite- 
 ment, and her heaving bosom bespoke the 
 furor which is caught from sympathy. 
 There is indeed " a music of empires and 
 of kingdoms, which sings their rise and fall, 
 with their causes." 
 
 " Music and poetry are twin-sisters, born 
 
56 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 in the same hour," said the strange gentle- 
 man, as the last note died upon the ear. 
 " Ah ! it was too much for me. Leonie, 
 you play too well ; you move the passions, 
 destroy the appetite ; our friend will not 
 do justice to our hospitality." 
 
 Leonie rose from the organ, and tears 
 stood upon her eyelids. 
 
 " Come, come to me, poor dove," said 
 the strange gentleman ; " your extreme 
 sensibility will destroy you ;" and Leonie 
 swnk down at his side, and buried her face 
 in his bosom. 
 
 "It is strange," said she, raising her 
 head after a short interval, and a little 
 abashed by the weakness she had discov- 
 ered ; " of what material are we made ■? 
 John would have me read to him the dark 
 story of that terrible revolution in a hun- 
 dred books, and I cannot play the hymn 
 but its tragic memories rush back upon and 
 overwhelm me. Yet philosophy tells us 
 it is but a dream that is past, and I will 
 learn to forget it. John, you will arrange 
 your toilet for supper V 
 
 The strange gentleman ordered a slave 
 to conduct me to my room, while he re- 
 tired to make those changes in his dress 
 which the late accident had rendered ne- 
 cessary. 
 
 Perhaps it is well that wealth induces 
 luxury ; the poor are benefited when the 
 rich seemingly squander. A bottle of wine 
 puts a thousand hands in motion, and gives 
 bread to a hundred families ; I will not, 
 then, complain of the luxury of my host, 
 which grew upon me at every step, and 
 was not least to be seen in the complete- 
 ness of the garniture of the dressing-room, 
 and the costliness of the material of which 
 the several articles of the toilet were form- 
 ed. In a niche in the wall was a marble 
 bath, surmounted by a crouching Venus. 
 The slave offered to fill it, but I declined 
 using it, and, as I am not nice in my dress, 
 was soon ready for the call to supper. 
 
 The slave ushered me into a third apart- 
 ment — the library — where I found Leonie 
 and the strange gentleman waiting my 
 coming ; the latter en dishabille, in a green 
 velvet gown, spotted with gold tags, and 
 worked slippers of the same material, fast- 
 ened upon the foot with ruby clasps. The 
 walls of the rooms were hidden by books, 
 while many a musty tome in folio lay in 
 heaps about the floor. 
 
 " I always sup here, I feel so much at 
 home and at ease among my books," said 
 the strange gentleman, as we sat down to 
 a light supper : it should not have been 
 otherwise, taken at midnight. The chan- 
 ges were few, but of exquisite choice ; and 
 it was upon this occasion that I first tast- 
 ed the LacrimcE Christi. Leonie presided 
 with a simplicity of manner that won my 
 heart. 
 
 Curious to learn something of the life 
 
 and habits of my host, I spoke of society 
 in New Orleans. 
 
 " I do not mix in it," said the stranger, 
 "The society of New Orleans, like its pop- 
 ulation, is of a composition too heteroge- 
 neous to be agreeable. Civilization neces- 
 sarily creates distinct classes among men, 
 differing in knowledge, in refinement, and 
 in manners. Can the illiterate find pleas- 
 ure in the company of the learned, or a 
 boor enjoy the conversation of a man of 
 the world "? You may depress the one, but 
 you cannot raise the other. 
 
 " Good breeding and vulgarity are like 
 oil and water : every attempt at amalga- 
 mation will prove futile. Good breeding, 
 or propriety of manners, address, and con- 
 versation, is as much a matter of the un- 
 derstanding as any science or learning' 
 whatever. Some minds acquire knowl- 
 edge by their own internal efforts, without 
 the help of outward aids, and this we call/ 
 genius. Some men are by nature grace- 
 ful and polite : their conversation is never 
 gross, their carriage always correct, all 
 without the tutoring of much or high com- 
 pany; and this, too, is equally genius. 
 There are other minds which acquire 
 knowledge from books, and there are oth- 
 er men who acquire politeness from obser- 
 vation ; the operation which brings im- 
 provement is in both equally intellectual. 
 There is a beauty in good manners, which, 
 to be seen and understood, requires the 
 same delicacy of taste that is necessary to> 
 perceive and feel the beauty of a landscape,, 
 a picture, or a piece of statuary. If we 
 were all masters of the propriety of speech, 
 knew what words to receive and what to 
 reject, we might all be good writers ; but 
 it is not so ; neither is it otherwise in good 
 breeding. But here the elite are of a dif- 
 ferent opinion, and I busy myself among 
 my books, with Leonie, a perennial flower, 
 to smile upon my waking, and shed sweet 
 odours over my sleeping hours." 
 
 The cloth was removed, and upon 
 the small round table of polished ebony, 
 around which we sat on circular seats, 
 cushioned with scarlet-coloured damask,, 
 were placed baskets of wrought silver, 
 loaded with fruit that might have closed a 
 regal feast. Flagons of the same rich ma- 
 terial, curiously embossed with scenes 
 from the vintage, and filled with choice 
 wines — Madeira, it is my favourite — stood 
 on ivory stands, while slaves served the 
 grape in small goblels of cut crystal. The 
 stranger grew eloquent, and Leonie's wit 
 enlivened many an anecdote of her resi- 
 dence in Paris. She had been educated 
 there. 
 
 " You give your days to the poets and 
 the philosophers," said I, looking around 
 upon the crowded shelves which were oa 
 every side of us. 
 
 " No !" said the stranger. " There was 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I ]?OUND IT. 67 
 
 a time when I loved them ; and consulting 1 " Eloquence ' He closes his ears to the 
 the pleasures of sight as well as those of j wonderful cadence of the orators of 
 the mind, I purchased the most rare and Athens—" 
 elegant editions ; but my taste has changed 
 of late, and Lfeonic, who now differs from 
 me in such matters, has become heir to all 
 these treasures. History and biography 
 are the only true wells of knowledge, 
 apart from personal observation. It was 
 not truth Avhich inspired the ancient philos- 
 ophers, and created those systems of Eth- 
 ics, so grand in their conception, so varied 
 in their doctrines, so imposing in their 
 pretensions, and so beautifully imbodied ; 
 which fed the vanity of those who taught, 
 blunted the moral perception of those who 
 heard, and have been the source of that 
 strange obliquity which characterizes the 
 larger portion of modern literature, and 
 pervades its more serious compositions, 
 even in theology ; which taught the wise 
 of those days to reject the religion of the 
 people, and have affected with unbelief the 
 minds of the learned from their age to the 
 present. Truth did not inspire the poets : 
 the bacchanalian, the erotic, the comic, 
 the epic, and the tragic, all are imbued 
 with error. Instructed by truth, does the 
 tragic muse clothe deformity in verse sweet- 
 er than the honey of Hybla or Hymittus, 
 moving the passions of men with a pathos 
 which forgets the crime in compassion for 
 the criminal "!" 
 
 " How changed !" said Leonie. " There 
 was a time when John carried a poet in 
 each pocket : now he sits in judgment 
 upon them all, and condemns all. The 
 Grecian comic, the Roman lyric, the lux- 
 urious stanza of Italy, the wild imaginings 
 of Calderon and De Vega, the broad humour 
 of Jonson, the pastorals, rondeaux, fableux, 
 and chansons of France, all of ancient and 
 modern poesy, he, like the licentiate Pero 
 Perez, would now devote to the flames, 
 did I not interpose and save them. Phi- 
 losophy ! he will not even listen to the di- 
 vine discourses of Socrates." 
 
 " Who, in his last hour, ordered a sacri- 
 fice to p]sculapius ; thereby assenting to 
 the superstitions he had spoken against, 
 and destroying, at a blow, the sublime 
 fabric he had raised, and which but waited 
 its consummation in the poisoned chalice," 
 said the strange gentleman. 
 
 " Art ! He speaks against the inspired 
 sculptors, who fixed in marble those per 
 
 " Which sustained their power, and filled 
 the city with the dissipation consequent 
 upon refinement and luxury ; luxury in 
 buildings, luxury in dress, luxury at the ta- 
 ble, luxury at the bath, luxury at the thea- 
 tre, and luxury at the public shows, till the 
 people were contaminated, their character 
 debased, honesty trampled upon, patriot- 
 ism fled, and it sunk beneath a power, then 
 more virtuous, but alike destined to tread 
 the same steps of decay," said my host. 
 
 " Alas !" cried Leonie, laughing, and 
 pointing to a volume in vellum which lay 
 open, turned upon its face, on a side-table, 
 " old Philip de Comines engages all his 
 waking hours, to the exclusion even of 
 myself; and, although he has read the book 
 a hundred times, he says he still finds, new: 
 interest in its pages." 
 
 "There have been but few histomal 
 minds ; that is, among the many who have- 
 written, few have handled the subject 
 with success," said the strange gentleman. 
 " Fine writing you may find everywhere ; 
 genius you may find everywhere ; but the 
 historian requires something more. He 
 should understand men ; possess the pow- 
 er to analyze motives, as well as to enu- 
 merate effects. His must, indeed, be a 
 mind of many and rare qualities, which en- 
 circles poetry, learning, philosophy, and 
 political acumen ; for he who would suc- 
 ceed in historical writing must be a poet, 
 qui nascitur, non fit ; a man of learning, 
 qui fit, non nascitur ; a philosopher, qui non 
 fit nee nascitur ; and a man, especially a 
 politician, qui nascitur et fit. Yet all of his- 
 tory, whether it comes in the legitimate 
 form of a Thucydides, a Tacitus, an Abul- 
 feda, a Machiavelli, a Mariana, a Ferreras, a 
 Thuanus, a Clarendon, and a Hume ; or ia 
 the more questionable shape of a Herodo- 
 tus, a Nepos, a Khondemir, a PiUgar, a Ze- 
 noras, a Comines, and a Froissart; or with 
 the tittle-tattle garrulity and old granny- 
 ism of a Plutarch, a Maximus, a Vopis- 
 cus, a Procopms, a Turpin, and a Smollett, 
 is the mirror of truth. The immutable past 
 is its theme ; the changeable present, the 
 dubious future, it scorns to place upon its 
 truth-telling page. The present it leaves 
 to the prejudiced writer of the memoirs of 
 a party ; the sycophantic biographer of liv- 
 
 fect conceptions of ideal beauty which an- ing greatness; the credulous traveller into 
 imale the Venus and the Apollo — " distant lands, and the fantastic sketcher of 
 
 " And which slowly but surely corrode ' living manners. The future ; where is it? 
 the virgin chastity of her who gazes upon | The Chaldees ! the Egyptians ! the jug- 
 their voluptuous forms," said the strange glers ! vain pretenders; it is their history : 
 
 gentleman. 
 
 * "The ancients," says Hazlitt, speaking of the 
 Greek statues, " excelled in beauty of form. The in- 
 
 thou teachest the present by the past, and 
 foretellest that which is to be by that which 
 has been." 
 
 terest which they excite is, in a manner, external ; ance, joined with e.-tquisite symmetry, and refined 
 it depends on a certain grace and lightness of appear- susceptibility to voluptuous emotions." 
 
 H 
 
«S8 
 
 NEW ORCEANS as I FOUND IT. 
 
 " And can I not prove that all are a part 
 of the study you love ?" said Leonie. " The 
 venom of the writer of memoirs is the acri- 
 mony of his party ; the adulation of the 
 biographer is the corruption of his age ; the 
 marvellous of the traveller is the ignorance 
 of his readers ; the fantasy of the sketcher 
 is the sickly taste of a morbid refinement ; 
 and the Chaldee, who reads the distant 
 stars, the Egyptian, who traces the lines 
 upon our palms, and the juggler, who min- 
 gles his cups, are emblematic of a rude and 
 superstitious people. But its sphere is still 
 wider; for its subject is man, and embraces 
 all that acts upon him, or he, in return, acts 
 upon," continued Leonie, her dark eyes 
 kindling with animation, while all her fea- 
 tures beamed with an intelligence which 
 subdued the voluptuous expression they 
 wore when at rest. " It is philosophical ; 
 for man has created a philosophy which 
 has ascended to his origin, laid bare the 
 causes of his advancement and retroces- 
 sion, and made known his final end. It is 
 learned, for man is learned ; learned in the 
 usages of the past, learned in its literature, 
 learned in its politics, and learned in its 
 science ; a learning which has reacted upon 
 its possessor, and produced eflects which 
 it is its province to chronicle, that after- 
 times may ascend from them to their 
 causes. It is poetical, for man is poetical ; 
 his existence is poetry, and his passions 
 are its expression; the twinkling star, the 
 fiery sun, the gentle moon, the blue arch 
 of heaven, vapour and cloud, the mountain 
 top, the extended plain, the broad ocean, 
 river, torrent, and rill, tree and herbage, all 
 are poetry ; and the balmy air, which is 
 around all, above all, and beneath all, is 
 also poetry ; acting upon man, affecting 
 his being, refining his nature. It is criti- 
 cal ; for man is a critic, extracting from 
 surrounding objects the forms of beauty, 
 of strength, of majesty, of grandeur, and 
 of sublimity ; and imbodying them in mar- 
 ble, upon canvas", and in language." 
 
 " Leonie, you have conquered ; poets, 
 orators, philosophers, and historians, all 
 are yours," said the strange gentleman, 
 rising from his seat, well pleased with the 
 enthusiasm with which his fair antagonist 
 had urged her argument ; " history is 
 sometiiing more than a barren catalogue 
 of events, and he who is ignorant of the 
 manners, costume, religion, literature, and 
 private life of the people w-hose story he 
 writes, wants the key to all its mysteries, 
 finds an enigma in every character, and 
 will search in vain for the causes of the 
 elfects he enumerates ;" and drawing a 
 string of pearls from his pocket, he put 
 them about her neck. " I reserved them 
 for an occasion like this," said he, " when 
 the gift might seem more the reward of 
 intellect than of love. Let us return to i 
 the drawing-room, Leonie, and you shall 
 
 discourse to our guest in a language yet 
 more eloquent, which speaks to the eye, 
 is superior to painting and statuary, and is 
 only not higher than music or poetry." 
 
 " John alludes to the dance," said Leo- 
 nie, examining the pearls in a small mir- 
 ror which a slave presented for that pur- 
 pose. "Dancing, he says, is coexistent 
 with language, if not the elder-born, and 
 is equally a medium for the interchange 
 of thought — in some respects inferior, 
 but in many much superior to its more 
 popular rival. Adapted to the expres- 
 sion of the higher and more severe, as 
 well as the softer sentiments, each mo- 
 tion, like the articulations of speech, is an 
 emanation from the mind, more or less 
 perfect, possessing more or less of grace, 
 energy, or grandeur, and, consequently, 
 more or less significant, in accordance 
 with the intellectual excellence of the art- 
 ist by whom it is exhibited. Motion is 
 not more evanescent than sound, and if 
 painting and statuary could do as much for 
 the dance as the invention of the alphabet 
 has done for language, its influence would 
 be as permanent." 
 
 " Leonie has correctly translated my 
 ideas into words, she shall now illustrate 
 them by action," said the strange gentle- 
 man, gently inserting his arm about the 
 beautiful brunette's waist, and leading the 
 way to the apartment I first entered. 
 
 Leonie walked to the centre of the room ; 
 the strange gentleman handed me to a seat, 
 and then threw himself upon a sofa, assu- 
 ming a reclining position, so as best to sur- 
 render himself to the half intellectual, half 
 sensual pleasure which springs from the 
 poetry of motion. A young female slave, 
 whose personal charms would have been 
 acknowledged by that portion of the human 
 family which delights in a sooty complex- 
 ion, sat on a cushion upon the floor, with 
 her feet drawn up and crossed after the 
 Oriental style ; a small French lute* rested 
 upon her lap. She was the musician ; and 
 the quiet, easy assurance with which she 
 bore herself, showed that she was used to 
 the part she was required to perform, and 
 that it was her peculiar office in the strange 
 gentleman's household. Leonie stood for 
 a few moments motionless, her hands rest- 
 ing at her side, her head bent slightly for- 
 ward, and her eyes cast modestly down, 
 as if waiting that inspiration which alone 
 stirs the powers of genius in whatever de- 
 partment of the knowledge or arts of life 
 they may be exerted. How like a sibyl 
 of the ancient days, waiting the advent of 
 the mysterious influence which was to in- 
 vest her with superior gifts, did that beau- 
 tiful woman then look. The slave fasten- 
 ed her eyes intently upon her mistress ; 
 
 * The Saracens, to whom we are indebted for the 
 invention of the Inte, considered it the most beauti- 
 ful of all instruments. 
 
 
 
 /I 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 59 
 
 Leonie raised her head— the slave struck 
 the hue ; it was an air from the ballet of 
 " The Judgment of Paris." Leonie moved 
 over the floor the queen of the gods. 
 "Vera incessu patuit Dea." 
 
 The proud competitor for the reward of 
 beauty was there ; noble in every step, 
 stately, relying for victory more upon her 
 rank above the powers of Olympus than 
 upon those external allurements of form 
 which had been great enough to conquer 
 Jove. Dignity and grace in every move- 
 ment — blended together— striving joyously 
 with each other— the weaker and more ef- 
 feminate subdued by the stronger quality. 
 *' She did not sue for, but demanded the 
 golden prize : if she had assented to the 
 contest, it was from humour, or the certain- 
 ty of success, and not because any claims 
 she might assert could be questioned by 
 mortals or immortals of inferior birth." I 
 did not know that motion could say so 
 much : it said all this, and more. The ap- 
 ple was hers ; I would have given it to her, 
 and half rose from my seat to make the 
 award. 
 
 The strange gentleman lay, still recli- 
 ning, his eyes following the extraordinary 
 being, who passed before him seemingly 
 scarce of earth : the expression of his face 
 was rest, quietness ; for his mind drank, 
 without emotion, of an enjoyment to which 
 it had become used. 
 
 The air changed, and Leonie was the 
 mother of love as she rose from the wave, 
 pure, in all her virgin modesty, as she af- 
 terward sprang from the hands of Praxite- 
 les, blushing, trembling, frighted at the kiss 
 of the air which surrounded her. Grace 
 now obtained the mastery, and avenged it- 
 self. Half retiring, half advancing, she 
 pleaded her cause the more eloquently, be- 
 cause she seemed to fear to plead it. Ev- 
 ery gesture, while it strove to win the good 
 opinion of the judge, deprecated the anger 
 of her rival. " She had not sought the tri- 
 al ; she would have avoided it, had she not, 
 even from her birth, been pronounced the 
 paragon of beauty ; she was compelled to 
 sustain the judgment of the gods." The 
 dance said this too ; but there was an un- 
 der-tone, a whispering in the ear of Paris, 
 which urged arguments of persuasion more 
 irresistible than the faultless person — she, 
 with well-feigned reluctance, exposed na- 
 ked, unencumbered even by the girdle, to 
 the eye of earth. The trees saw her, the 
 hill upon which she stood, the bright orbs 
 that travelled their courses in the blue 
 empyrean, the cloud which encircled the 
 court like a wall, hiding its mysteries from 
 the curious who watched upon the towers 
 of Ilium, saw her, and she shrank from 
 the exposure. Woman mingled with di- 
 vinity, and mortality triumphed. She ad- 
 dressed the passions ; her large, liquid eyes 
 
 danced to the soft measure of the music , 
 every motion distilled love, and told the son 
 of Priam that Venus, the Aphrodite, would 
 willingly expire upon the lips of the fairest 
 of the youth of Troy. She conquered. 
 The strange gentleman pronounced the 
 judgment. 
 
 " Venus is greater than Juno among mor- 
 tals ; her reign is from the beginning, and 
 will continue unto the end. All that is of 
 earth is hers ; even the soul, that higher 
 principle, surrenders itself, not displeased, 
 to the chains which her roseate fingers 
 fasten upon it." 
 
 The music again changed, and Leonie 
 hovered over us as La Sylphide, the most 
 ethereal of all the creations of fancy, a spir- 
 it of air, how light, just rising, ever threat- 
 ening to mount to a more attenuated and 
 congenial atmosphere. In her met all that 
 poets have imagined, or the credulous be- 
 lieved, of those shadowy beings which, too 
 pure for earth, too gross for heaven, ride 
 upon a moonbeam, and pillow their heads 
 upon the down of sleeping flowers. How- 
 perfect, how exuberant ol ^race, how ex- 
 quisitely beautiful was each attitude ; like 
 the prismatic colours of the dew-drop glit- 
 tering in a rising sun, changing with the 
 rapidity of thought, each worthy to be 
 caught in marble and made immortal, each 
 rivalling the master-works of art, all com- 
 posing a series which the united excellence 
 of Italy's statuary would not parallel ; 
 while her many-twinkling feet passed 
 through the transitions with an ease we 
 wondered not of, for their hold was upon 
 air. On how lofty an eminence shall we 
 place an intellect which can thus create, 
 instantaneously and without end, forms of 
 such infinite sweetness and variety of con- 
 tour ! 
 
 Again the music changed, and again did 
 Leonie undergo another transformation. 
 The demi-divinity of the sylph fell from her 
 like a garment, and she stood forth a wom- 
 an — full, ripe, glorious woman — woman as 
 she is found upon the sunny plains of 
 Castile, born for dalliance. The castanets 
 were upon her fingers, and she moved 
 through the intoxicating maze of Spain's 
 most national, most voluptuous dance, La 
 Cachuca. The loftier, but colder charms 
 of intellectuality were exchanged for the 
 softer characteristics of the Spaniard and 
 the Moor. La Cachuca ! it was all that 
 passion ever said, all that passion ever 
 wrote ; now pure as the aspirations of Pe- 
 trarch, and now glowing with tlie ques- 
 tionable warmth of Anacreon — the coquet, 
 the tempter — with more than a maid's coy- 
 ness, and with more than the boldness of 
 Phryne. There he lay, the stranger, like 
 an Eastern sensualist, stretched upon silken 
 cushions, while dancing girls swim before 
 his dreamy sight, assuming as they move 
 such postures as may best rouse his flag- 
 
60 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 ging passions, and stimulate to new acts 
 of love. Leonie approached with that 
 short, quick, sidelong, rolling, ambling step, 
 which, when once seen, is never to be for- 
 gotten : it was the voluptuous of motion. 
 She sank upon the floor before him, threw 
 back her head, and, raising her arms, wove 
 them into a wreath which floated upon the 
 air like the circle of Urania, while the 
 merry castanets rang out a peal of joy : 
 intextas habebat cupiditates, voluptates, 
 delicias, illicebras, suspiria, desideria, ri- 
 sas, jocos, blanda verba, gaudia, jargia, et 
 hujusmodi, quibus araatorum vita constat. 
 The smouldering fire burst into flame : a 
 storm now swept over his late quiet face, 
 the flush of desire came and went like 
 shadows of summer clouds chasing each 
 
 other, and every nerve trembled with emo- 
 tion. The picture was complete. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " I cannot wonder," said I, as I entered 
 my host's carriage at the foot of the long^ 
 stairway ; " I cannot wonder that for you' 
 society has no attractions, since you pos- 
 sess more than it can give, in one who 
 is—" 
 
 The strange gentleman did not finish the 
 sentence. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " Boy," said I to the slave, as I alighted' 
 at my hotel, "who is your master?" 
 
 " Massa Jack !" 
 
 And this was all I could learn of the 
 strange gentleman. 
 
 DAY THE THIRD. 
 
 " My relation, because quite clear of fable, may prove less delightful to the ear. But it will afford suffi- 
 cient scope to those who love a sincere account of past transactions, of such as in the ordinary vicissitude 
 of human affairs may fully occur, at least be resembled again." — Thucvdides. 
 
 " Mendez Pinto, though one of the most fabulous among the travellers of these latter times, has yet pre- 
 served many important facts," — Modern Universal History. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE COURTS. 
 
 " Who so vpon himselfe will take the skill 
 True justice unto people to diuide, 
 Had need of mighty hands to fulfill 
 That, which he doeth with righteous doome de- 
 cide, 
 And for to maister wrong and puissant pride." 
 Spenser. 
 
 "The place of justice is a hallowed place; and 
 therefore not only the bench, but the foot-pace, and 
 precincts, and purprise thereof ought to be preserved 
 without scandall and corruption." — Bacon. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Judicial System of Louisiana. — The Young Lawyer 
 at his Chambers. — His Character and Personal 
 Appearance. — Equality of Remuneration of the 
 Northern and Southern Practitioners.— The Law- 
 yer's Library. — V'"^\ and Common Law. — Su- 
 preme Court. — The Inferior Courts. — Multiplicity 
 of Languages. — The Bar. — Criminal Court. — Dis- 
 trict Court.— A Suit at Law. — The Parish Court. 
 — John Gravien. — Ensurance. — Court of Probates. 
 — Practice. — Oceanus. 
 
 On the morning following my introduc- 
 tion to the household of the strange gen- 
 tleman — having first, as I have before inti- 
 mated, followed Anna to the grave — I call- 
 ed upon the lawyer at his office, for the 
 purpose of accompanying him on his 
 rounds in the courts. He had promised to 
 act as my cicerone, and to aid me in gain- 
 ing some knowledge of the judicial system 
 of a state which is as unique in its laws, 
 and their practical application, as in the 
 character of its population. Based upon 
 the labours of the Roman jurists, they par- 
 take largely of the modifications which the 
 wisdom of Caius, Papinian, Ulpian, and 
 Paulus has been made to undergo in order 
 
 to adapt it to the genius of modern barbar- 
 ism and modern civilization as found du- 
 ring the last seven centuries upon the Con- 
 tinent of Europe, and more especially in 
 the kingdoms of France and Spain. Ex- 
 hibiting, too, many traces of innovation 
 springing from the laws of the Anglo-Sax- 
 on race, introduced by immigrants from 
 what are here called the common-law 
 states, the whole structure is a sort of mo- 
 saic work, not the less durable, nor less 
 fitted for the ends proposed, because the 
 materials composing its several parts were 
 cut from diflTerent quarries. -Such a body 
 of laws discovers, at least, a wonderful 
 spirit of compromise, and says much for 
 the good feelings of the heterogeneous pop- 
 ulation of the state, and the durability of 
 its institutions. 
 
 I found my friend surrounded by his cli- 
 ents ; for in New Orleans a young lawyer 
 may have clients ; and it is not necessary 
 that he should pass through a dishearten- 
 ing novitiate of two lustrums before being 
 thought capable of holding a brief. He 
 was tying up his papers with what Lord- 
 chief-justice Somebody said was the sine 
 qua non of a lawyer's success — red tape ;. 
 and as he contributed much to my happi- 
 ness, and will be hereafter often intro- 
 duced to the notice of the reader, I cannot 
 do better than give a short description of 
 his person, togcthcv with such leading 
 traits in his character as will render him 
 more familiar to those who, if they follow 
 me through these pages, will show me the 
 courtesy to love what I love. 
 
 To find one who is worthy of our affec- 
 tions is the best gift of life ; and such was 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 61 
 
 the lawyer. He was a young man of about 
 twenty-five years, of a tall, thin person, 
 slender make, with blue eyes, high cheek 
 bones, a Grecian nose, slightly inclining to 
 Enghsh, an exceptionable mouth, the chin 
 of a sensualist, dark auburn hair, and a 
 forehead which, rising full and round, fell 
 suddenly back, betraying the promise it 
 had given, and exhibiting no extraordinary 
 development of the higher faculties. In 
 disposition he was as mild as a spring 
 morning in the month of May, when blos- 
 soming trees smile upon the Giver of all 
 good, and little birds send up from their 
 topmost twigs songs of unalloyed joy. 
 He loved everybody and everything; Heav- 
 en knows how he happened to select a 
 profession so ill calculated to foster such 
 a temper. If he had enemies — and who 
 has not ? — he had the satisfaction of know- 
 ing that their hatred was without justifica- 
 tion, and commiserated rather than re- 
 sented the error into which they had fall- 
 en ; thus, stained with many of the foibles 
 of humanity, he was, without any preten- 
 sions to religion, more than half a Chris- 
 tian. 
 
 His mental, like his moral qualities, were 
 of a gentle character; without severity, 
 nor exhibiting much of energy in their ac- 
 tion. Educated at the first of our univer- 
 sities, he was much given to books, placing 
 his delight in the older English dramatists, 
 as Marlowe, Webster, Decker, Ford, and 
 Massinger, with their more than half 
 brothers, the Chroniclists. He was a 
 man of sympathies — one whom the out- 
 ward forms and appearances of matter 
 much affected : a circumstance which he 
 turned to account in rather an odd way, 
 and was thus enabled, by the power of as- 
 sociation, to live in times long since pass- 
 ed, and to enjoy the scenes depicted upon 
 the pages of history as if he himself was 
 an actor in the events he read. You might 
 sometimes find him at his rooms of a Sat- 
 urday evening, after the business of the 
 •week had cleared away, sitting with a vol- 
 ume of old Ben Jonson, or, perhaps. Sir 
 Walter Raleigh's History, in his hand, lost 
 to the life around him, and looking, for all 
 the world, like a resuscitation from the 
 grave of centuries. 
 
 In his ordinary toilet he was neat, with- 
 out anything like ornament, excepting a 
 broad, plain gold ring, which he wore upon 
 the third finger of his left hand, the pledge 
 of a love long since broken, and a massy 
 gold pencil-case, set with a cornelian, 
 which projected conspicuously from his 
 vest pocket. During the warm months, 
 when it is the fashion here to dispense with 
 the vest, the eye of an observer might be at- 
 tracted by two heavy gold suspender-buck- 
 les, which proved that their bearer carried 
 weight, and set off to advantage the snow- 
 wliile braces to which they were attached ; 
 
 and sometimes a large gold chain, and cor- 
 responding ponderous seal, hung from his 
 watch ; adornments which he usually dis- 
 pensed with, and never assumed excepting, 
 as he said, when he felt unusually poor. 
 There was another peculiarity about the 
 dress of my friend, which sometimes led 
 to ludicrous mistakes ; when in the streets, 
 he always wore spectacles ; at his rooms, 
 never. So that a casual introduction in 
 one place would not enable you to recog- 
 nise him in the other. 
 
 Those who are acquainted with the 
 straitened circumstances of my young 
 friend's brethren during their apprentice- 
 ship in other cities, will draw, from the 
 cursory description which I have here 
 given, conclusions favourable to the pro- 
 fession in New Orleans; and many facts, 
 which I shall hereafter set forth, will tend 
 to confirm such an opinion ; but as it is 
 generally found that the goods and evils 
 of this world are pretty equally distributed, 
 so, where most money is received, most is 
 necessarily expended, and, at the close of 
 a twelvemonth, the northern practitioner 
 will probably find as large a surplus in his 
 pocket as will his seemingly more pros- 
 perous brother of the South. If the sum 
 laid up, forming the " capital" of life, is the 
 true test of success, which is to be farther 
 graduated by the wants it will supply in 
 the country in which it is used, we may 
 safel}^ conclude that, at the close of a series 
 of years, the northern lawyer will prove to 
 be a richer man than he who has received 
 more, expended more, and is in possession 
 of only the same numerical wealth. 
 
 The lawyer welcomed me to his ofliice. 
 For one so young in the practice, it was 
 well supplied with what the profession 
 term, by way of eminence, "The Books," 
 or ««t' tSoxnv ; a department in learning 
 which, if we confide in the eloquent eulo- 
 gium of one of its most brilliant ornaments, 
 is " worthy of being studied even by schol- 
 ars of taste and general literature, as being 
 authentic memorials of the business and 
 manners of tlie age in which they were 
 composed. Law reports," continues Chan- 
 cellor Kent, " afb dramatic in their plan 
 and structure. They abound in pathetic 
 incident and displays of feeling. They are 
 faithful records of those little competitions, 
 factions, and debates of mankind that fill 
 up the principal drama of human life ; and 
 which are engendered by the love of power, 
 the appetite for wealth, tiie allurements of 
 pleasure, the delusions of self-interest, the 
 melancholy perversion of talent, and the 
 machinations of fraud." The office was 
 otherwise furnished with not only the ne- 
 cessary garniture of sucli an establishment, 
 but with many things which looked strong- 
 ly towards ease, if not the less pardonable 
 weakness of luxury. 
 
 While my friend was listening to the 
 
62 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 thrice-told tales of his clients, probing the 
 testimony they offered to sustain their alle- 
 gations, and giving opinions which were 
 received as oracles, I ran my eye hastily 
 over the contents of his library, induced 
 by a curiosity to learn in what it diftered 
 from those I had examined elsewhere, in 
 places which " continue wedded to the use 
 of the common law." I found its works 
 upon the legal science, as well as the lan- 
 guages in which they were written, as 
 mixed as the people among whom he found 
 his patrons, or the sources from which 
 their jurisprudence is drawn. The per- 
 spicuous style, philosophical arrangement, 
 and plain common sense of the marvellous 
 Cujus stood side and side with the involved 
 periods, undigested learning, and pedantry 
 of Coke. Merlin was superior to Bacon 
 in the number and cumbersomeness of his 
 tomes, and Pothier, the Fenelon of law- 
 yers, stood quietly by Blackstone, his su- 
 perior in elegance of diction, his inferior 
 in the perception of the principles of jus- 
 tice. Las Siete Partidas, and Chitty's 
 Pleading, Murillo's Cursus Juris Canonici, 
 Hispani et Indici, and Starkie on Evidence, 
 the whole body of the Corpus Juris Civilis, 
 with its interminable commentators, and 
 the Elementary Treatises of the English 
 Lawyers, the " Arrets"* of Dalloz and of 
 Tirey, and the reports of the Sister States, 
 Emerigon, Benecke, Stevens, Bowlay, Pety, 
 Frebrero, and Jacobson's Sec. Laws, Cor- 
 vinus and Perezius, with hundreds of for- 
 eign and uncouth titles, deployed rank and 
 file before me, themselves seemingly won- 
 dering at their own juxtaposition, and the 
 strange judicial organization of a country 
 "whose jurisprudence is a patchwork of 
 laws and opinions drawn from opposite 
 sources, and imbued with principles both 
 of liberty and despotism. What can be 
 more antagonistical in their nature than a 
 system of civil rules based upon the codi- 
 fications of a courtiftr lawyer, acting under 
 the commands of the most tyrannical, un- 
 grateful, mean, and debased of monarchs, 
 who, according to a contemporary histori- 
 an, sold equally his judgn^nt and his laws,| 
 
 * " Les decisions des cours souveraines s'appellent 
 Arrets" says M. Dupin, '' parceque, iretant pas sus- 
 ceptibles d'etre reforinces siir appel par iin tribunal 
 superieur, elles mitlent ordinairement fin aux proce's, 
 et arr^lent toutes contestations ulterieures entre les 
 parties." 
 
 t •' Far be it from me," says Sir William Black- 
 stone, " to derogate from the study of the Civil Law, 
 considered (apart from any binding authority) as a 
 collection of written reason. No man is more thor- 
 oughly persuaded of the general excellence of its 
 rules, and the usual equity of its decisions, nor is 
 belter convinced of its use as well as ornament to the 
 scholar, the divine, the statesmen, and even the com- 
 mon lawyer. But we must not carry our veneration 
 so far as to sacrifice our .'Alfred and Edward to tho 
 manes of Theoilorus and Justinian : we must not 
 prefer the edict of the praetor, or the rescript of the 
 Koman emperor, to our own immemorial customs, 
 or the sanctions of an English Parliament ; unless 
 
 and " that product, not of the wisdom of 
 some one man, or society of men, in any 
 one age, but of the wisdom, counsel, ex- 
 perience, and observation of many ages 
 of wise and observing men," to be found 
 in the Reports of P^nglish Judicial Deci- 
 sions — the decisions of a tribunal "which 
 have been almost uniformly distinguished 
 for their immaculate purity !"* 
 
 When the last of the lawyer's clients 
 had retired, I alluded to the heterogeneous 
 character of his library, where the materi- 
 als seemed to have been collected from 
 nearly all the languages in which judicial 
 science had been cultivated, observing that 
 I should not be surprised to find upon its 
 shelves the Laws of the Medes and Per- 
 sians, in their original character, bound up 
 in vellum, with the chops of the Chinese 
 emperors. 
 
 "There was a time," said the lawyer, 
 "when the writings of the civilians, the 
 codes and recopilacions of Spain, the four 
 hundred and thirty-eight coutumes of 
 France, the labours of Justinian, and the 
 Ordinances of O'Reilly were, more or less, 
 the law of the state ; but since the great 
 repealing clause of 1828, abrogating all the 
 civil laws which were in force before the 
 promulgation of our civil code,f these 
 books were referred to in argument as the 
 depositories of reason, and sometimes en- 
 able an advocate to sustain an opinion with 
 a corresponding judgment of the wise. 
 The Creole and French practitioners, who 
 have been educated under the civil system, 
 and are, for the most, part, ignorant of the 
 common law — of the practical common 
 sense of our elementary writers, cite the 
 civilians, and we, of English descent, per- 
 haps equally ignorant of the excellences 
 of the French jurists, answer them with 
 references to our reporters. But this mon- 
 grel state of things, which renders law un- 
 certain, and its administration unsatisfac- 
 
 we can also prefer the despotic monarchy of Korne 
 and Byzantiuin, for whose meridians the former 
 were calculated, to the free constitution of Britain, 
 which the latter are adapted to perpetuate." 
 
 * Chancellor Kent. " Every person," says the 
 writer above quoted, "well acquainted with the con- 
 tents of the English Reports, must have been struck, 
 with the unbending integrity and lofty morals with 
 which the courts were inspired. I do not know where 
 we could resort, among all the volumes of human 
 composition, to find more constant, more tranquil, 
 and more sublime manifestations of the intrepidity of 
 conscious rectitude. If we were to go back to the 
 iron times of the Tudors, and follow judicial history 
 down from the first page in Dyer to the last page of 
 the last reporter, we should find the higher courts of 
 civil judicature generally, and with rare exceptions, 
 presenting the image of the sanctity of a temple, 
 where truth and justice seem to be enthroned and to 
 be personified in their decrees." 
 
 t That all the civil laws which were in force be- 
 fore the promulgation of the civil code lately promul- 
 gated be, and are hereby aiirogated, except so much, 
 of title tenth of the old civil code as is embraced in 
 its third chapter, which treats of the dissolution of 
 communities or corporations. — La. Acts of 1S28. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 63 
 
 tory, is fast passing away. The act of 
 18'28 has prodaced great changes ; and its 
 influence is still at work, growing stronger 
 with success. The common law, through 
 the medium of state legislation, the immi- 
 gration of citizens of the sister states, the 
 immigration of advocates educated in its 
 principles, the consequent growing knowl- 
 edge of its worth, is fast gaining the as- 
 cendency ; and I hope to see the time when 
 our codes — a crude, undigested mass of le- 
 gal maxims and positive provisions — shall 
 be themselves proscribed by a legislative 
 clause as sweeping as is that which has 
 driven from our courts a body of laws op- 
 pressive from their bulk and their obscuri- 
 ty, locked up, as they are, in languages 
 unknown to our Constitution, and breath- 
 ing a spirit hostile to its genius. There is 
 . much in the civil law to admire ; there is 
 w much in the civil law which the sages who 
 ^ raised the structure of the common law 
 *>^' have borrowed ; but because a part is wor- 
 . ^ thy of being received, we are not, therefore, 
 ^ to take the whole, or to adopt even the 
 part, seamed and scarred as we at present 
 hold it. The Civil Code of Louisiana is a 
 •vj^' piebald work, made up of shreds of the 
 T civil law, modified first by Spanish and 
 'i r French decrees, again by our own legisla- 
 ~ tion, with not a little of the awkward, and, 
 in many respects, senseless coutumes of 
 the provinces of France." 
 ^ " You do not speak very favourably of 
 y your laws," said L 
 
 " Not, certainly, of their sources," said 
 the lawyer ; " but if we have some cause to 
 object to the laws themselves, we may be 
 also permitted to complain of the cost of 
 their administration ; which, from the enor- 
 mous fees allowed our officers of justice, 
 in many cases brings ruin rather than re- 
 lief to the poor creditor. These things 
 demand reform, and will receive it when 
 the iSmerican population predominates 
 throughout the state.* They will receive 
 it, also, when the law is studied less as a 
 means for acquiring wealth, and more as a 
 science — looking forward mainly to the 
 noble object of reputation ; when the stu- 
 dent gives his nights to the pages of Ben- 
 tham, and drinks deeply of the wisdom of 
 that man who is to his profession what 
 Bacon is to physical knowledge. He, per- 
 
 * In the case of " Ellis Prevost et al.," 13 La., p. 
 236, Rost, J., delivering the opinion of the court, 
 says, '• The court cannot be ignorant of the mode in 
 which our codes were prepared and became laws. 
 They were written by lawyers, who mixed with the 
 positive legislation definitions seldom accurate, and 
 points of noctrine always unnecessary. The legis- 
 lature modified and changed many of the provisions 
 relating to the positive legislation, but adopted the 
 definitions and abstract doctrine, without material 
 alteration ; from this circumstance, as well as from 
 the inherent difficulty of the subject, the positive 
 provisions of our code ate often at variance with the 
 theoreiical part, which was intended to elucidate 
 them." 
 
 feet in morals, strove to cleanse the Auge- 
 an stable of the law ; and we turn from the 
 contemplation of his labours, convinced of 
 the truth of the words of Bolingbroke, and 
 of their applicability to much that has 
 been written, and which now cumbers the 
 shelves of our libraries. Read Selden, 
 read Grotius, read Cumberland, read Puf- 
 fendorf, to mention no others, if you have 
 leisure and patience for it ; and, after you 
 have done so, I will appeal to you for the 
 judgment I make. There are many curi- 
 ous researches, no doubt, and many excel- 
 lent observations, in these writers, but they 
 seem to be great writers by much the same 
 right as he might be called a great travel- 
 ler who should go from London to Paris 
 by the Cape of Good Hope." 
 
 The lawyer picked up his papers secured 
 with red tape, stowed them away in a ca- 
 pacious side-pocket of his paletot, and, as 
 it was Monday morning, when the judges 
 of the Supreme Court read their decisions 
 upon cases argued before them during the 
 past week, and when he was desirous to 
 learn the fate of some of his own suits, he 
 first introduced me to the highest tribunal 
 of the state. The court was held in the 
 Capitol, a small two story, half-French, 
 half-Dutch looking building, situated in the 
 centre of a square of ground fronting on 
 Canal-street. 
 
 The court-room was small, and nearly 
 filled by that portion of the bar whose busi- 
 ness is of sufficient importance to be ad- 
 judicated upon by the highest tribunal. I 
 counted fifty — the elite — being, perhaps, 
 one fourth of the profession : a calcula- 
 tion which would give two hundred prac- 
 tising attorneys to the city. When we 
 consider that its litigation springs not, even 
 in a greater part, from within itself, but 
 proceeds from the whole valley of the Mis- 
 sissippi, and those places at the North and 
 East, and in Europe, with which New Or- 
 leans transacts business, we must con 
 elude that it is not as yet, like most of the 
 other cities of our country, overrun with 
 lawyers.* 
 
 The court presented a truly venerable 
 appearance. The presiding judge, a gen- 
 tleman of some seventy-five years, at 
 once one of the wealthiest men of the 
 state — a wealth whose foundation was laid 
 at the bar, and increased by the practice of 
 the strictest economy — and one of the 
 most eminent lawyers of our country, ex- 
 hibited in physical aspect the beau ideal of 
 an old i^nglish sergeant. A time-wora 
 resident of the Inns of Court would feel 
 young again to look upon him ; and, with 
 so familiar an object before his eyes, would 
 find himself at home, though removed 
 three thousand miles from his chambers. 
 
 * Since these pages were written the 
 doubled. 
 
 ' bar" has 
 
64 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 My friend the lawyer, after moving the 
 court in an easy, oft-hand way, for an or- 
 der upon one of the inferior judges to show 
 cause why a mandamus should not issue, 
 requiring him to grant an appeal in a cer- 
 tain suit wherein he was retained as coun- 
 sel, took me under his arm for the purp'ose 
 of visiting the forums of subordinate juris- 
 diction. This thing of the mandamus, I 
 found, was indeed so common as to be con- 
 sidered a matter of course ; for no sooner 
 had my friend filed his motion, than some 
 half dozen others followed in his wake on 
 a similar errand ; and, on subsequently call- 
 ing his attention to the subject, he showed 
 me that the Reports of the State were 
 filled with instances of the issuing of that 
 w^rit : a frequency which he explained by 
 saying that the inferior courts were no re- 
 specters of precedents, and usually re- 
 tained their first impressions, unless they 
 found other cause for change than a con- 
 tradictory opinion of the appellate tribu- 
 nal ; so that what Bacon says of it, " that 
 it is now an established remedy, and every 
 day made use of to oblige inferior courts 
 and magistrates to do that justice which 
 they are in duty, and by virtue of their of- 
 fices, obliged to do," seems here to be veri- 
 fied to the letter.* 
 
 We next visited the building of which I 
 have spoken in a former chapter, as situa- 
 ted below and on the left of the Cathedral, 
 with its fa?ade looking upon the " Place 
 d'Armes." I was met upon the threshold 
 by the hubbub of the law ; it was a perfect 
 bedlam : the judges, jury, lawyers, clients, 
 and loungers of five courts crowded togeth- 
 er; three of them upon the same floor. The 
 bustle of litigation kept up in all at one 
 and the same time was, in its effects upon 
 the ear, much similar to the clatter of the 
 interminable machinery of an eastern cot- 
 ton manufactory : a resemblance by no 
 means diminished by a real exemplifica- 
 tion of an error with which southern advo- 
 cates are too often chargeable, in mistaking 
 sound for eloquence. Of the five langua- 
 ges most spoken in the city, two were here 
 dominant, because those two were alone 
 made use of by counsel in argument ; 
 yet all were freely bandied about among 
 the crowd which besieged the courts ; and 
 I even detected one judge speaking in four 
 different tongues in the course of a fifteen 
 minutes' charge to a jury ! The advocates 
 argued in French or English, according as 
 one or the other was their mother tongue ; 
 and if the Frenchman sometimes opened 
 in the language of the Constitution out of 
 courtesy to his opponent — a compliment 
 
 * A judge who refuses to acknowledge the au- 
 thority of "Decided Cases" as lound in the "Re- 
 ports" of the " Decisions" of the highest tribunals, 
 destroys the certainty of the law, delays its adminis- 
 tration, and subjects the rights of suiters to the sole 
 test of his own private opiruon. 
 
 which the American always returned — he 
 soon slid into the dialect most used to his 
 lips : a piece of good sense which the 
 American was equally willing to imitate. 
 It may well be supposed that a judge who 
 is not as great a proficient as was Mithri- 
 dates or Al Tarabi in the knowledge of 
 words, would not be thought capable of 
 performing the duties of his office in New 
 Orleans. 
 
 Courts of law, the courts of original ju- 
 risdiction, are certainly admirable schools 
 for the study of humanity — perhaps not in 
 its best features — yet there is more of 
 comedy than of tragedy evolved in a hot 
 dispute over the fragments of a broken 
 contract. A student could not find a bet- 
 ter locale for his purpose than this — to 
 which I have introduced the reader — where 
 all that engrosses our attention in life, our 
 hopes, ambition, and energies, even life it- 
 self, is discussed, adjuged, given, and ta- 
 ken away ; where suitors, born under every 
 sun, educated in different principles of gov- 
 ernment, follow each other in rapid suc- 
 cession, seeking redress in the equity of a 
 body of laws which is a melange of all 
 that each has at one time acknowledged to 
 be his own. 
 
 The lawyer carried over his own busi- 
 ness for the day with a " continuance," 
 and, taking a position which enabled us to 
 observe the action of three courts, while 
 listening to the eloquence of two others, 
 he directed my attention to whatever was 
 peculiar to the drama passing before us. 
 The gentlemen of the bar, who were ex- 
 tremely well dressed, exhibiting in many 
 instances a toilet bordering upon foppery, 
 embraced a larger proportion of j'oung 
 men than are usually to be found in the 
 higher courts of New York, Pennsylvania, 
 and Massachusetts : a fact which, if it 
 speaks in favour of the lucrativeness of 
 the profession, says something, too, of the 
 shortness of life in New Orleans, and of 
 the mutability of its population ; neither 
 favours the accumulation of business in a 
 few hands, and both promote a willingness 
 to intrust our interests to the care of the 
 young, healthy, and energetic. If the vet- 
 eran is enabled to retire at the close of his 
 thirty years of service — a long period in the 
 history of the city — it is to be feared that 
 few are permitted to reach so honourable 
 a distinction. 
 
 " The court on our right," said the law- 
 yer, " I scarcely need inform you, is one 
 of exclusive criminal jurisdiction. The 
 idle, the indigent, and the dissolute, un- 
 shaved and unwashed, who crowd within 
 its precincts, sufficiently designate its char- 
 acter. Of the many who are there con- 
 gregated, some have come to while away 
 a vacant hour in sweet contemplation of 
 the misfortunes of those who were but of 
 late a part of themselves ; others, to inure 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 65 
 
 their constitutions to the atmosphere of a 
 pbice which they have good cause to sus- 
 pect they will soon be called upon to visit 
 in a different capacity ; and a few to watch 
 the fate of a father or a son who may be 
 this day arraigned before a jury of his 
 country. The countenance and bearing of 
 each individual tell you at once to which 
 of the three classes I have enumerated he 
 belongs ; so truly is nature beyond the 
 reach of imitation. Comedy and tragedy 
 are both every day more perfectly deline- 
 ated in the bosom of society than within 
 the walls of a theatre ; and he who does 
 not acknowledge this truth, is not an ob- 
 server of what is continually passing be- 
 fore his own eyes. 
 
 " The wretch who occupies the dock is 
 about to receive the sentence awarded to 
 the crime of ' striking with a deadly weap- 
 on with an intent to kill ;' his predecessor 
 was more fortunate. He struck with a 
 surer aim, and was acquitted ; because, 
 here, we are disposed to consider every 
 act of personal violence as the conse- 
 quence of a fair quarrel ; and his victim 
 "Was too far removed from this world to op- 
 pose the justice of the conclusion. 
 
 " You will observe that the attorneys sit- 
 ting within the bar are not so well dress- 
 ed, and are, on an average, much younger 
 in practice, as well as years, than those 
 •who follow the civil courts ; for it is easy 
 to distinguish a young from an old practi- 
 tioner ; the novice mouths trifles as if they 
 were matters of importance, and the hack 
 handles matters of importance as if they 
 were but trifles. In truth, they are mere 
 beginners, who resort to that forum for the 
 purpose of testing their strength. It is not 
 diflicult to secure a retainer from a poor 
 devil who is without the means of obtaining 
 abler counsel ; and, perhaps, the exercise 
 thus afforded the oratorical propensities of 
 a young aspirant sufficiently compensates 
 his labours. In a court of crimes, the at- 
 torneys form a third estate, distinct from, 
 and holding no sympathy with, the other 
 two. The prisoner is all despair, praying 
 for mercy ; the judge all compassion, tem- 
 pered and restrained by justice; but the 
 attorney, like the surgeon accustomed to 
 the daily use of his knife, cool and collect- 
 ed, unmoved by the heart-rending scenes 
 which are continually passing before him, 
 hoping for success oidy as it may advance 
 his interests, thinks of but little besides 
 himself. The client in a civil suit stands 
 upon the same platform with his advocate; 
 but the dock places an impassable gulf be- 
 tween the prisoner and his counsel. 
 
 " That court," continued the lawyer, 
 " presents, in the jurisprudence of a people 
 professing to be practical admirers of civil 
 liberty, the strange anomaly of a single 
 judge, who holds in his hands the honour, 
 the liberties, and the lives of his fellow- 
 
 citizens, without appeal even in matters 
 of Liw ! ' Another method of preventing 
 crimes,' says the Marquis of Beccaria, ' is 
 to make the observance of the laws, and 
 not their violation, the interest of the ma- 
 gistrate. The greater the number of those 
 who constitute the tribunal the less is the 
 danger of corruption ; because the attempt 
 will be more difficult, and the power and 
 temptation of each individual will be pro- 
 portionably less !' Our legislators never 
 read the marquis's excellent little ' Essay 
 on Crimes and Punishments.'* 
 
 "We will now turn to the court upon 
 our left. It has a territorial jurisdiction, 
 which embraces six parishes, but takes 
 cognizance only of civil matters. Like all 
 our courts of original jurisdiction, the Dis- 
 trict Court for our first judicial district is 
 composed of one judge, a policy which 
 loses in security more than it gains in 
 energy. 
 
 " Our rights ought never to be made fle- 
 pendant upon the judgment of a single in- 
 dividual. The minds of the best of men 
 are so liable to be warped by prejudice or 
 interest, or to be blinded by error, that 
 checks and balances are as necessary upon 
 the bench as in a division of the powers of 
 a well-regulated government. A court of 
 law should be so constituted as to com- 
 mand the confidence of its suitors in its 
 integrity and ability, so that even the losing 
 party may leave its halls convinced that 
 justice has been meted out to him, at 
 least in as far as it is to be attained by 
 means of the most perfect of human insti- 
 tutions. Our ' appeal dockets' teach us 
 that the great majority of litigants are not, 
 nor ever have been, willing that their 
 claims should abide the sole, unaided opin- 
 ion of one judge, however eminent may be 
 his reputation for honesty, legal knowl- 
 edgejiand acumen. The history of juris- 
 prudence in every country where the 
 rights of the citizen have been consulted, 
 sustains the principles I advocate. The 
 High Court of Chancery of England does 
 not afford an exception ; and it has been 
 heretofore only in despotic countries, 
 where the liberties of the subject are known 
 but to be trampled upon, that courts were 
 to be found possessing an unlimited juris- 
 diction, and consisting of one man, whose 
 will is law to the weak, and whose judg- 
 ments are to be bought by the strong. 
 
 " You may form some opinion of that 
 court 'docket' from the fact that it sits 
 every day in the week, Sundays excepted, 
 during eight months of the year, and its 
 clerk receives, for performing duties which 
 are merel)- mechanical, and which, from 
 the simplicity of our practice, require no 
 
 X^ . \^ 
 
 * A " Court of Errors and Appeals in Criminal 
 Matters," having appellate jurisdiction, with power 
 to review qviestions of law, was established by act, 
 approved 5ih ApiiJ, 1813. 
 
66 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 previous and peculiar mental preparation 
 beyond a common education, the moderate 
 compensation of some twenty-five thou- 
 sand dollars a year ; only five times the 
 salary of the judge, whose physical labours 
 are greater, and whose mental duties, to 
 be faithl'ully performed, require years of 
 toil and study 1 That system of legisla- 
 tion which is parsimonious to the judge 
 and extravagant to the clerk, reverses their 
 true position, and pays the hands which 
 work more than the head which plans. 
 The salary of a judge should be sufficiently 
 large to place him above the temptation of 
 a bribe, and to secure for the ' bench' the 
 most eminent talent at the ' bar ;' but a 
 clerk's office draws more largely upon hon- 
 esty than upon mind, and honesty is as 
 often destroyed by great and unmerited 
 gains as eaten out by want. The adminis- 
 tration of justice should be speedy, certain, 
 and cheap ; and the last requisite is not the 
 least important of the three. Litigation 
 should be taxed in an amount nearly suffi- 
 cient to defray its necessary expenses ; so 
 that large ' bills of costs' may not con- 
 sume the substance of the debtor, and the 
 creditor may not be deterred from the pur- 
 suit of his rights through fear of entailing 
 upon himself a debt greater than that 
 which he desires to reclaim.* Law, as a 
 science, and the courts, its administrator, 
 are the result of civilization, and were 
 meant to ensure, for a small premium, the 
 property, the life, and the character of the 
 citizen ; when we find the tax upon justice 
 to have become so great as to be almost 
 tantamount to its denial, it is time to re- 
 turn to first elements, and, profiting by ex- 
 perience, reconstruct the edifice anew. 
 'AH human constitutions,' says Algernon 
 Sidney, in his admirable Discourses on 
 Government, ' are subject to corruption, 
 and must perish unless they are timely re- 
 newed, and reduced to their first princi- 
 ples.' 
 
 "The gentleman who is now arguing so 
 
 earnestly," continued the lawyer, "and 
 
 whose voice is to be heard, like the deep 
 
 tones of Niagara, above all other noises, is 
 
 . - here at the head of his profession. He is 
 
 ^^ a German, and emigrated in his boyhood 
 
 • ^ 
 
 * By act approved April 5, 1843, it is enacted, 
 "That the fees and other emoluments collected by 
 each officer, whose compensation consists in whole, 
 or part, of fees of office, shall be applied as follows: 
 first, to the payment of the expenses of the office, in- 
 cluding the salaries of clerks or deputies ; second, to 
 the payment of said officer's compensation, up to the 
 sum of three thousand dollars, if so much shall re- 
 main ; afid, third, the surplus, if any there be, shall 
 then be divided between such officer and the state, 
 in the proportion of one third to said officer and two 
 thirds to the state " 
 
 In what way is the poor debtor or the suitor ben- 
 efited by the above enactment ? The same mon- 
 strous tax upon justice remains; and the only change 
 made is in the division of the spoils — and the state 
 has reserved for itself the lion's share ! 
 
 to this country. He is an extraordinary 
 example of what may be done by perse- 
 verance combined with energy. He uses, 
 with equal fluency, all the dialects of Eu- 
 rope, and no one among us has a more per- 
 fect command of a language which, if, as 
 Lord Bacon says, ' it is the richer for be- 
 ing mixed,' is also, for the same reason, ac- 
 quired with more difficulty than the inter- 
 minable variations of the Chinese charac- 
 ter. It may be said of that gentleman, as 
 has been said of Quintius Scaevola, 'Ar- 
 tem quae docet universam tribuere in 
 partes — latentem explicare definiendo — ob- 
 scuram- explicare interpretando — ambigua 
 primum videre deinde distinguere — pos- 
 tremo habere regulam qua vera et falsa 
 judicarentur, et qua?, quibis positis, es- 
 sent, quaeque non essent, consequential 
 Hie enim attulit banc artem, omnium arti- 
 um maximam, quasi lucem adea, quaj con- 
 fuse ab aliis aut respondebantur aut ageban- 
 tur ' The venerable, gray-haired old gen- 
 tleman, who sits at the advocate's side, his- 
 eyes fixed upon the speaker, his mouth, 
 open, devouring each word as it falls fronx 
 his lips, purchased, some twenty years- 
 since, a sugar plantation upon the ' coast,' 
 for which he paid a hundred thousand dol- 
 lars. He was hardly warm in possession,, 
 when, one pleasant morning, as he stood 
 in his doorway, admiring the sloping rays 
 of a rising sun which played about the 
 green waving tops of his cane, as if they 
 rejoiced over the wealth they were crea- 
 ting, a leaner of moneys silently drew near, 
 politely doflfed his hat, and quietly in- 
 formed the old gentleman that he held a 
 mortgage upon his grounds for twenty-fiv& 
 tnousand dollars, which he would be very 
 well pleased to see paid. The old gentle- 
 man was so little acquainted with the ways 
 of the world as to take offence at so rea- 
 sonable a request : swore roundly that he 
 had bought his place as clear of all encum- 
 brance as his hand, and very awkwardly 
 intimated to Shylock that he was the 
 owner of a few very vicious dogs, which 
 were much given to bite, and that there- 
 fore it might be as well for his corporeal 
 health if he should go as he came, without 
 giving any extraordinary notice of his 
 movements. The old gentleman was 
 wrong. Shylock held a mortgage which 
 had been overlooked, and was not noted ia 
 the certificate given by the judge in whose 
 office it was recorded. Shylock resorted, 
 to the law; the old gentleman resisted, 
 and, after five years of litigation, paid the 
 mortgage, with interest, and five thousand 
 dollars expended in counsel fees and costs 
 of court. The loss of thirty thousand dol- 
 lars was a heavy blow to a man of his prop- 
 erty ; his vender became a bankrupt, died, 
 and was buried long before the close of 
 the lawsuit, and it required three good 
 crops, managed with much economy, to 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 m 
 
 replace him in his former posiiion. He 
 had scarcely forgotten his losses, and re- 
 turned to his ancient equanimity, when the 
 widow of his vender, a nice, hale, buxom 
 lady of thirty-five, discovering that the old 
 gentleman was not a bachelor, thought it 
 advisable to claim her dotal and parapher- 
 nal rights of some fifty thousand dollars, 
 which her poor husband had received and 
 forgotten to account for, out of the planta- 
 tion. Here was another mortgage — one 
 of the tacit kind, which attaches and has 
 its eflfect without registration, and is the 
 more dangerous because it is quiet. ' Lex 
 in omnibus tacitis hypothecis fingit pac- 
 tionem et conventionem partium contra- 
 hentium, quamvis expressa non fuerit, 
 et est perinde ac si in veritate hypotheca 
 ilia fuisset constituta per conventionem 
 partium,' says Megazantius. The old 
 gentleman, who is a good man, and had 
 learned something during his late com- 
 monancy about the courts, would have di- 
 vided his plantation with the widow, had 
 not his friends, more kind hearted than 
 wise, opposed equity to law, and persuaded 
 him again to run the gauntlet through the 
 halls of justice. At the close of another 
 five years of litigation, the old gentleman 
 did what he had proposed to do in the be- 
 ginning — compromised with the widow — 
 and paid five thousand dollars more to the 
 attorneys and officers of court. The old 
 gentleman's luck was surely none of the 
 best ; but he is no heathen, and acknowl- 
 edges the truth of the adage, that ' half a 
 loaf is better than no bread;' so he once 
 more smoothed down his rufiled feelings, 
 and was content to send one hogshead to 
 his factors where he before sent two. 
 Great is the mutability of human affairs ! 
 The old gentleman had become familiar 
 with the prayer of Horace, 
 
 " ' Modus agri non ita magnus, 
 
 Hortus ubi, et tecto vicinus jugis aquae fons, 
 
 Et paulum sylvae super his foret;' 
 discovered that to be happy it is not necessa- 
 ry to be rich — taken to reading Seneca, ' Si 
 ad naturam vives, nunquam eris pauper; 
 si ad opiniones, nunquam eris dives' — when 
 the last and greatest of his misfortunes, 
 that which is now pressing him down, and 
 beneath which he will finally expire, insinu- 
 ated itself into his presence under the form 
 of a third process in the courts. The un- 
 wary sailor, sleeping upon a smooth, sum- 
 mer sea, and dreaming of everything save 
 danger, hears not with more surprise the 
 rush of the tornado which sinks ship and 
 all a hundred fathoms deep, than did the 
 good old gentleman the soft foot- fall of the 
 law again upon his threshold. Decrepit, 
 broken by former losses, he would have 
 been content to live; but there could be 
 now no compromise ; he was to fight for 
 existence, for the claim swept all, and, like 
 a worn-out warrior, he put on his armour, 
 
 and went forth with tottering steps to do 
 battle the last time for his rights. 
 
 " The vender of the plantation had been 
 twice married. His first wife died, leav- 
 ing one child, a minor, and sole heir of her 
 estate. After the dissolution of the mar- 
 riage by death, the tutorship of the minor 
 belonged, of right, to the surviving father. 
 He was not required to give security for 
 the faithful administration of his trust ; but 
 the law gave the orphan a protection in the 
 shape of a tacit and general mortgage upon 
 the real estate of his tutor, then in posses- 
 sion, or subsequently acquired. The mi- 
 nor has attained his majority, and is now 
 seeking to reclaim the amount of the dovy-- 
 ry, and matrimonial acquits and gains of 
 his deceased mother, which the father also 
 forgot to account for prior to his death. 
 He asks for one hundred and fifty thousand 
 dollars ; his proof sustains the demand ; the 
 old gentleman's already- contracted lands 
 will pass from him, and even the nice, hale, 
 buxom widow of thirty-five trembles lest 
 she shall be compelled to secede before a 
 prior mortgagee. 
 
 " There he sits ; look at him. Hoary with 
 age ; without children to smooth his silver 
 locks, pour words of kindness into his 
 ears, and sustain his weakness with their 
 strength ; he puts his trust in what ? the 
 eloquence of an advocate ! Does the speak- 
 er feel as that old man feels % be hangs- his • 
 ho{>es upon every word. Does the coupt.'^ 
 feel as that old man feels \ its judgment 
 takes away all he has on earth. Do the 
 idlers about the bar feel as that old maa 
 feels? he has a partner in his fortunes^ 
 one who has climbed with him to the top- 
 of the hill of life, and who has descended, 
 with equal step, near to its base. She will 
 go forth, his companion, again into the 
 world: that aged couple, hand in hand, 
 looking forward, not as before, when, in 
 the prime of life, they saw pleasure and 
 happiness dancing together in the distance, 
 but to the grave, the common comforter, 
 the place of certain rest, and rejoicings in 
 their years, because these years have 
 brought them nearer to their journey's end. 
 That is what I call tragedy." 
 
 The lawyer was moved by the picture he 
 bad drawn, turned his face from me, and 
 drew his hand across his eyes to clear his 
 vision. 
 
 " The court immediately before us," h» 
 continued, resuming his character of cice- 
 rone, " is the ' Parish Court,' for the Par- 
 ish of New Orleans. Although of an equal 
 jurisdiction, in matters of a civil nature, 
 with that of which I have last spoken, it 
 has a narrower territorial limit, and is, so 
 far, inferior. It sits during an equal num- 
 ber of months ; its docket is equally crowd- 
 ed ; its clerk equally well paid; and if its 
 judge is not equally learned, he is distin- 
 guished for the possession of a large fund 
 
68 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 of common sense, which, being better than 
 law, draws into his court all suits involv- 
 ing titles to property of an extraordinary 
 amount. It is the theatre of llie important 
 and endless litigation growing out of the 
 conflicting interests of those who claim to 
 have succeeded to the rights of John Gra- 
 vier ; a man to whose memory the bar of 
 New Orleans owe a monument of gratitude 
 for the unskilful and reckless manner in 
 which he divested himself of an estate 
 which, had it been managed with common 
 prudence, would have secured to his heirs 
 a wealth princes might envy. The larger 
 and better portion of what is now the Sec- 
 ond Municipality was formerly his planta- 
 tion. He ploughed our most commercial 
 streets, and owned to the Avater's edge, em- 
 bracing that long, broad, noble reach of 
 Levee, which is annually enlarged by the 
 deposites of the Mississippi, and is now val- 
 ued at ten millions of dollars. There is 
 not, in the whole history of the rise of 
 cities, a more wonderful instance of rapid 
 increase in value of landed estate, nor a 
 more instructive lesson of foolish prodigal- 
 ity and strange want of foresight. It was 
 then only necessary to look out upon the 
 broad Mississippi to. read all that New Or- 
 leans now is ; as it is now only necessary 
 to turn to the same page to read all that 
 New Orleans will be. What Marco Polo 
 says of Sin-gui, is more than equalled by 
 our city. 
 
 " The small gentleman whom you see 
 sitting at the table within the bar, looking 
 over a big bundle of papers almost as large 
 as himself, is a native of Bordeaux. You 
 would know him for a Frenchman, from 
 the ceaseless agitation of his nervous sys- 
 tem, in consonance with the train of 
 thought which is passing through his mind. 
 He was once attached to the P'rench navy, 
 and, with two others, embarked in a pin- 
 nace of ten tons, on a wager that he would 
 reach New Ori<^ans without touching at 
 Davy's Locker. A man who has tlie cour- 
 age to win against such odds, has the 
 courage to do anything ; there is, therefore, 
 no cause for surprise in his present position 
 — a lawyer of distinguished and most lucra- 
 tive practice — in advance of all who claim 
 the same origin with himself The well- 
 dressed, middle-aged, intellectual-looking 
 gentleman who sits at his side is a mer- 
 chant, who some few years since shipped 
 a valuable cargo for a foreign port. It was 
 safely insured in one of the offices of the 
 city, and fairly lost by one of the perils 
 covered by the policy, ' the detainments of 
 princes.' The merchant accompanied his 
 adventure. Although all ' the books' agree 
 that the insured is never obliged to aban- 
 don, but has his election, and may recover 
 for a total or a partial loss, yet there are 
 some cases, say they, where he will have 
 HO claim against the insurer, unless he 
 
 makes an abandonment — a specimen of 
 legal ratiocination which the merchant 
 may be pardoned for not comprehending. 
 When, therefore, he should have folded 
 his arms, and, as Mr. Justice Arhurst says, 
 ' sought the first opportunity to signify his 
 election,' he inconsiderately put his shoul- 
 der to the wheel, and laboured for the 
 common benefit. After six months of toil, 
 he discovered ' the detainments of princes' 
 to be the greatest of the risks of the poli- 
 cy, and returned to claim his insurance. 
 But ' a corporation,' saith my Lord Coke, 
 ' hath no soul.' The company refused to 
 indemnify, because he, in his haste to pro- 
 tect the interests of others, had forgotten 
 his own. The merchant was ruined. 
 Within a few days thereafter, the com- 
 pany itself suffered a great loss, declared 
 itself bankrupt, and made an assignment 
 of its assets for the benefit of those upon 
 whose premiums it had lived. The day 
 following the assignment, the meixhant 
 received advice that the warring princes 
 had become reconciled ; his goods, decreed 
 to be restored, found a rising market, and 
 doubled the adventure — the merchant is 
 rich — and that is what I call the comedy 
 of life. 
 
 " The court upon our right," continued 
 the lawyer, as, having changed our posi- 
 tion, we stood within the colonnade which 
 runs along the fa(;ade of the building, " is 
 the Court of Probates. Its presiding offi- 
 cer is distinguished for the possession of 
 the first chief requisite in a'.judge : a de- 
 termination U) do his duty, and the courage 
 to back it. A short time since he killed 
 three of five assassins who attacked him — 
 at night, masked — in his own house, alone 
 with his wife, because he would not recon- 
 sider and reverse a judgment which was 
 unpopular with their humours. 
 
 " Those who are familiar with the sim- 
 ple practice known in similar courts at 
 the North would wander, bewildered, amid 
 the mazes of our forms : the putting on 
 and the raising of seals ; the notarial in- 
 ventories ; the appointment of curators 
 of vacant estates, attorneys of absent heirs, 
 tutors to minors, and sub-tutors to tutors ; 
 the filing and homologation of tableaus ; 
 the oppositions and interventions ; the 
 judgments interlocutory, and the judg- 
 ments final ; the exception, the appeal, and 
 the reversal ; the calling of fatnily meet- 
 ings, and the homologation of family pro- 
 ces-verbals : the last two evils so great, 
 that a gentleman, who unfortunately found 
 himself the father of four orphan children, 
 heirs of their deceased mother's estate, 
 lately offered a large reward to anyone of 
 the profession who would write an argu- 
 ment against such troublesome provisions 
 of our law. When we consider the great 
 expense necessarily attendant upon the 
 multifarious forms and intricate practice 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 69 
 
 of that court, and the startling fact pro- 
 niulged by Judge Porter, ' that every twen- 
 ty-five years nearly all the property of the 
 state passes through the Court of Probates,' 
 we may well conclude that no small por- 
 tion of the whole sticks by the way, and 
 passes through different rivulets into other 
 hands than those of its heirs. The estate 
 of poor Solomon suffered its ordeal, and 
 was sensibly diminished by the operation. 
 Il was afterward taken to the Supreme 
 Court of the State, then passed into the 
 Circuit Court of the United States, was 
 carried, upon error, to Washington, and 
 has just returned to pass through a new 
 series of litigation. The estate bears all 
 costs — one thousand dollars paid to the at- 
 torney for absent heirs, one thousand dol- 
 lars to the attorney of the curator — the 
 sack will be empty before the ink<#of the 
 final decree is dry. Solomon's brother 
 reckons without his host if he believes he 
 will receive a rich legacy. 
 
 " ' The mere form of bringing a question 
 before a court,' says Maddock, ' is of itself 
 a science, an art less understood, and more 
 difficult to learn, than the construction and 
 use of the most complicated macliine, or 
 even the motions of the heavenly bodies.' 
 The observation may be justly applied to 
 our Court of Probates, whose jurisdiction 
 is as undetermined as the misty substance 
 of Ossian's spirits, through which the stars 
 shone darkly." 
 
 We looked into the court. The lawyers 
 were busy, a| equal crowd filled the room, 
 and among tire suitors I observed a boy of 
 some fourteen years, who sat listening to 
 the argument of an advocate with an in- 
 tenseness and anxiety of countenance be- 
 yond his age. A small dog stood upon the 
 boy's knees with ears erect, nose thrust 
 out, and eyes that followed each movement 
 of the speaker as if he, too, had an interest 
 in the case. I directed the lawyer's atten- 
 tion to the group. 
 
 " Ah !" said he, " that is young Oceanus ; 
 he has just jumped into a fortune — that is, 
 if he gets it — and is here asserting his title. 
 I fear he will be some years older before 
 he sees the end of his suit, and that the 
 finale will strongly illustrate a passage to 
 be found in Diderot's Story of ' Jacques the 
 Fatalist.' ' Un limonadier,' says Jacques, 
 ' decede il y a quelque temps, dans nion 
 voisinage, laisser deux pauvres orphclins 
 en bas age. Le commissaire se transporte 
 chez le defaut; on oppose un scelle. On 
 leve ce scelle, on fait un inventoire, une 
 vente ; la vente produit huit a neuf cents 
 francs. De ces neuf cents francs les frais 
 de justice preleves, il reste deux sous pour 
 chaque orphelin ; on leur suit a chacun ces 
 deux sons dans la main, et on les conduit 
 k rh6pital.' The boy's story is a curious 
 one ; I will relate it to you as it was told 
 me by his uncle, a gentleman of Mobile." 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " For he that hath each star in heaven fixea, 
 AikI gives the moon her homes, and her ec/ipsing, 
 Alike hath made thee noble in his working." 
 
 Wyatt. 
 
 " Life's no resting, but a moving : 
 Let thy life be deed on deed." — Goethe. 
 
 " The childhood shows the man, 
 As morning shows the day." — Milton. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 Oceanus's Birth.— Abaco. — The Sea. — Providence 
 Channel. — The Soul. — Oceanus Bathing. — A 
 Shark. — OceanusOverboard -The Rescue. — The 
 Storm. — A Leak. — The Ship goes Down. — Open 
 Boat Navigation. — Oceanus loo.ses his Mother. — 
 Oceanus Adrift.— The old Tar of the Fife.— Ocea- 
 nus and the Ocean. — Key-West. — Oceanus ar- 
 rives at Mobile. — The Innamorata. — Oceanus finds 
 a second Mother. — Oceanus claimed by his Uncle. 
 — Oceanus's Learning. — Oceanus resolves to visit 
 Cuba. — Oceanus puts to Sea. — Is arrested as a 
 Pirate. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 "Young Oceanus came nto the world 
 about half past four o'clock one stormy af- 
 ternoon of the month of October, in the 
 year 18-22, his mother then being midway 
 the passage from Bombay to Liverpool ; a 
 circumstance which gave the boy his name, 
 and has since exerted a vast influence in 
 moulding his character. Although it is not 
 said that the gallant ship stood still in its 
 course wheir so important an event trans- 
 pired within its bowels, yet, in obedience 
 to that mysterious sympathy which exists 
 between all matter, and through matter up 
 to mind, it moved easier upon- its track, 
 and leaped over the tops of the curling 
 waves with a joy which reflected that of 
 the young mother, who was then listening 
 to the low breathings of her first-born, and 
 heard that sweet mu'^ic above the whistling 
 of the winds and the dashing of an autum- 
 nal sea against the oak which ribbed her 
 about and shut out danger. How many 
 hopes, reaching far into the depths of time, 
 are concentrated in that first hour when 
 the wife knows herself to be a mother! 
 The tiny hands and tender arms of the in- 
 fant are, to her vision, the full-grown limbs, 
 Knit and ridged with muscle of thirty 
 years ; strong, and able to sustain and pro- 
 tect her. 'i'hose little features, expressive 
 of nothing save the weakness of humani- 
 ty, and that small swelling brow, are to 
 assume the marked lines of manliood ; 
 changing in youth with every feeling which 
 sways by turns the mortal breast, and fixed 
 in mature age by the one dominant pas- 
 sion, which surrenders but to the grave. 
 And what is he to be, in return for the 
 pains she has borne, and the toils she is to 
 endure in leading him up to the vantage 
 ground of life] Imagination works, and 
 builds a tower of expectations, while fancy 
 weaves a web of brilliant colours, and cov- 
 
^■0 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 <^rs its walls with a tapestry glorious with 
 scenes of triumph, of wealth, and of hon- 
 our — a mother's hopes! bUnd, seeing not 
 the evils which h;ing in the air around her, 
 sJie possesses in that first hour a joy which 
 is not the less real, not the less beyond ap- 
 preciation, because its promises are false. 
 
 " Oceanus was two years old when his 
 mother, then a widow, changed in her for- 
 tunes, embarked, a strange passenger, for 
 America. The noble ship moved onward; 
 the young Oceanus grew apace ; aud upon 
 the thirtieth day of the voyage, the man at 
 the mast-head cried out, 'Land, ho!' 
 
 " It was Abaco ; the first land which the 
 •sailor makes in entering from the north, 
 the most dangerous navigation known to 
 commerce, where the hardy seaman push- 
 es bravely on, through a tortuous course, 
 -winding his way among banks, islands, 
 ieys, shoals, ancl rocks, beset thick with 
 'iiidden aud apparent dangers, and boldly 
 navigates an iron-boimd coast, whose 
 shores, lashed with frequent tempests, are 
 •everywhere covered with fragments of 
 "wrecks, and white with the bones of the 
 unfortunate. Were you ever at sea V 
 
 " Often," said L 
 
 "I aai sorry for it," said the lawyer; 
 ■'' for you have been disabused of a large 
 part of those beautiful and sublime imagin- 
 ings which fancy conjures into being, and 
 the restless waters of the deep have lost 
 to you more than half their poetry. There 
 is sublimity in the vast expanse of the 
 ocean ; but there is a monotony, too, which 
 sorrows upon the eye, wearies the spirit, and 
 ■jfiiudly subdues the nobler feeling. The 
 ceaseless swell, in calm as in storm, wave 
 following wave, rising and falling in regu- 
 lar succession, palls upon the mind sooner 
 than the fixed stillness of the desert. The 
 lofty summit of Mount*Washington, living 
 in the regions of eternal cold, immoveable 
 and unchanged from the beginning, wakes 
 in the soul more of grandeur than the sea 
 it looks upon. Its greatness we can partly 
 comprehend ; its strength we can partly 
 know. Like the giants of the air, whose 
 walk is upon tlie glaciers of the Apennines, 
 it fills, but does not overpower the mind. 
 It is connected with and surrounded by' 
 life. Its associations are of those things 
 which the eye loves to dwell upon. Its 
 barrenness, rugged, inhospitable, unculti- 
 vated, is in harmonious contrast with the 
 sunny fields which smile, half hidden, amid 
 the valleys at its base, while mountain- 
 stream and forest relieve and refresh an 
 over-excited imagination. The land has 
 more of poetry than the water. 
 
 "The night was starry and bright when 
 the ship bore through Providence Channel, 
 due west by nortii, and Oceanus's mother, 
 carrying him upon deck, held him up above ! 
 the bulwarks, that he might see the light . 
 which the banks there reflect into the air, 1 
 
 like an aurora borealis springing upward 
 from the sea. Oceanus made big eyes, 
 leaped in his mother's arms, clapped his 
 hands, and gave divers other signs of un- 
 mixed joy. From that moment his spirit 
 was wedded to the water ; a fact which 
 was abundantly corroborated by a sudden 
 attachment which the child soon after 
 formed for a tar-pot, together with the ex- 
 hibition of a corresponding morbid appetite 
 for the chewing of oakum. 
 
 " The soul is perfect, full grown at the 
 moment of its creation ; the body is born 
 weak and helpless ; and strength is mar- 
 ried to imbecility. The mind, during its 
 strange connexion with matter, exists un- 
 der two states or conditions of being : the 
 one, purely spiritual ; the other, modified 
 by the gross material with which it is 
 hemmed about, caged in, and restrained 
 from giving outward evidences of those 
 workings which are continually passing 
 within itself. The composition, man, 
 knows little of the soul in its simple state ; 
 yet, at times, we catch a glimpse of its ac- 
 tion, and startle at the maturity, clearness, 
 and grasp of our own thoughts. Expe- 
 rience, which comes with age, and what is 
 called knowledge, is the victory which the 
 soul gains over its earthly and perishable 
 associate ; the power, which it acquires af- 
 ter long toil, of making known to its com- 
 plex existence what itself knew from Uie 
 beginning. The object of all education 
 should be to render matter subservient to 
 mind, and those systems whigh attain this 
 end most completely and raTOst readily, 
 approved and adopted. These facts will 
 explain why it is that Oceanus now says 
 that his love of the sea was born of the 
 bright light which he then saw springing 
 up from its bosom, and justify him in say- 
 ing that he has a vivid recollection of the 
 compact then made between his spirit and 
 the water. ^ 
 
 " Oceanus doubled the Isaacs, and run- 
 ning south to the Orange Keys, entered the 
 Gulf, a stream which has puzzled the learn- 
 ed from the day of its discovery to the 
 passing hour. They dispute over its rise, 
 and the laws of its progress, while naviga- 
 tors are equally undetermined whether it 
 most aids or injures commerce. There, 
 Oceanus's mother, learning that the water 
 within the stream was many degrees 
 warmer than that which she had left, strip- 
 ped him to the skin, put him into a basket, 
 and let him down over the ship's side into 
 the sea. She gave him a bath as a preserv- 
 ative against the scurvy, which had made 
 its appearance upon her own person. Poor 
 creature ! she had fed upon salt junk during 
 the whole voyage, and she feared he might 
 have drawn in the disease with her milk. 
 
 " The basket filled and dipped beneath the 
 surface, and Oceanus was baptized in the 
 element he loved. The little fellow was 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 71 
 
 l3rge and strong for his age, and clamber- 
 ing up the sides of his leaky vessel, he 
 grrasped its rim, and danced and shouted 
 for very happiness. Born upon the ocean, 
 he had already enrolled himself among the 
 x,mphibii, and could not help taking to the 
 water, which he knew, in preference to the 
 land, which, to his soft feet, was strange, 
 ■hard, and unyielding. The gentle fish of 
 the great deep played around him, wel- 
 coming his coming as one whom they were 
 willing to crown their king. The porpoise, 
 Delphinus phoccena, in shoals, outstrip- 
 ping, in their course, the fleetest navies, 
 gambolled, rolled, tumbled, and spouted in 
 the distance, throwing up the brine like a 
 cloud of steam, and exhibiting their white 
 beUies, smooth, soft, glossy skin, porrect, 
 depressed snouts, and big jaws, with forty 
 curved pointed teeth upon a side, to the 
 wondering eyes of Oceanus, who shouted 
 again in acknowledgment of the homage 
 which was paid him. The sturdy tars, who 
 had already adopted Oceanus as one of 
 themselves, and initiated the bantling into 
 many of the mysteries of their craft, such 
 as drinking smuggled grog out of the heel 
 of an old boot, sleeping upon the watch 
 with both eyes open, and purloining tit-bits 
 from the caboose when the cook's back 
 was turned, gathered upon the forecastle, 
 ran up the shrouds, laughed, swore, and 
 made the welkin ring with huzzas. One 
 old Jack who was fond of music — and what 
 true sailor is not] — drew a well-worn fife 
 from his chest, walked amidships, where 
 Oceanus's mother stood holding the line 
 which gave her command over the frail 
 bark to which she had trusted a freight so 
 precious, and played a gentle tune, whose 
 soft, melodious notes drew towards him 
 the tumbling fish, and calmed their excited 
 spirits, while they swam round and round 
 in regular gyrations, moving to the meas- 
 ure of the music, which charmed their lis- 
 tening senses. The smaller tribes, seeing 
 their destroyers, those who fed daily upon 
 their fatness, suddenly assume a demean- 
 our so docile, with a countenance of such 
 meekness, believed the promised day had 
 come, when the wolf should dwell with 
 the lamb, and the leopard lie down with 
 the kid, and the calf, and the young lion, 
 and the fatling together, and a little child 
 should lead them. They herded about the 
 ship, leaped in its wake, kissed the rudder, 
 played around the basket, tipped the water 
 iwith their fins, and flashed back to the sun 
 all the colours of the rainbow. Clouds of 
 .flying-fish, Exocetus volitans, filled the air; 
 not now frightened from their element, but 
 springing from the grosser to the thinner 
 iluid, pushed by the impulse of pleasure. 
 One, of more temerity than the rest, or 
 drawn by the silken cords of afl'ection, 
 lighted upon young Oceanus's head, and 
 fanned the air with its large, filmy, pecto- 
 
 ral fins, till it lost its strength with its moist- 
 ure, and fell exhausted back to its waves. 
 The temperate breeze, the tranquil sea, the 
 noble ship moving steadily onward without 
 pitch or roll, conscious of the general jubi- 
 lee, the mother's joy, the crew's merriment 
 and triumph, the infant's innocent delight, 
 the beauty and the happiness of the inhab- 
 itants of the deep, the bright sun shining 
 upon all — it was a scene the gods might 
 have looked down upon and smiled ! 
 
 " Does not winter follow summer, and 
 the freezing blast of December the scent- 
 ed breath of autumn] There is not a 
 pleasure in the round of life which has not 
 its sister — pain ; and every green and flow- 
 ery spot of earth is but a point upon the 
 broad surface of sterility. Such is the 
 mystery of Heaven ! Oceanus's mother 
 could not be always happy. The scene 
 changed. The little fish fled dismayed. 
 The dolphins, no longer charmed, left their 
 gyrations, and tacked in and out with an 
 equal movement, as if uncertain which 
 way to seek safety. The look-out at the 
 mast-head discerned the danger from afar. 
 There was no mistaking the broad, sail- 
 like dorsal fin of the most voracious of the 
 monsters of the deep, ploughing the even 
 surface of the sea. He shouted the alarm, 
 ' A shark ! a shark !' The crew caught the 
 cry, ' A shark ! a shark !' The old, weath- 
 er-beaten tar dropped his fifej.-sprang to the 
 line, which the mother, paralyzed, held 
 with an uncertain grasp, seized what then 
 seemed a single thread, too frail to bear 
 the weight of life it well protected before, 
 and gently drew the unsuspecting, laugh- 
 ing Oceanus from his play. But the bas- 
 ket had scarcely cleared the water, when . 
 the monster, certain of his scent, demand- 
 ed his prey. The sea boiled around him 
 like a caldron ; he ''rolled upon his back ; 
 with one blow of his tail threw more than 
 half his length into the air, seized the as- 
 cending basket, and sank fifty fathoms 
 deep into the chambers of his dwelhng- 
 place. The mother fell lifeless upon the 
 deck, and the hardy tars sent forth one 
 common groan, followed quick with curses 
 upon themselves, upon the ship, upon the 
 sea, with all its fish, upon everything; 
 swore they should recognise the monster 
 at some future day, and would pursue him 
 for his heart's blood from the tropics to 
 the pole. 
 
 " ' Heave the ship to !' roared the cap- 
 tain. ' Let go the jib-sheets! Back the 
 main-top-sail! Hard down your helm!' 
 The ship, like a slave, obeyed its master. 
 'Clear away the boat! Lower away! 
 Trim aft the jib-sheets ! Stretch out !' 
 And there he lay, the young Oceanus, float- 
 ing upon the stream, and thinking of no- 
 thing save the newness of his position, 
 which he loved the better for being free. 
 The old tar of the fife was the first to man 
 
72 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 the boat, and the first to rescue the general 
 favourite ; bearing him aloft with shouts 
 of triumph, and initiating his young ship- 
 mate in tiie science of aerology through the 
 diverse circles he made him describe above- 
 his head. ' Hook on !' cried the captain. 
 ' Hoist away ! Right your helm ! Fill 
 away the main-top-sail !' and the ship kept 
 her course, southwest by south, to the 
 double-head shot-keys. 
 
 " When the shark closed his jaws upon 
 the basket in which young Oceanus was 
 disporting himself, the pUant material of 
 which it was made yielded so readily to 
 the pressure as to retain its elasticity, and 
 the bottom bending inward, projected its 
 burden with a happy velocity quite under 
 the ship's counter. The monster, finding 
 a sort of wicker-work wedged in about his 
 teeth, which would neither be swallowed 
 nor cast out, and which very much incom- 
 moded the proper and comfortable stowage 
 of his grinders — a shark lays back his ivo- 
 ry when not in use, as a dog does his ears 
 — concluded he had encountered one of 
 the tricks which travellers are ever sub- 
 ject to, and concealed his chagrin in flight. 
 Oceanus was restored whole to his resus- 
 citated mother ; all was well again ; and 
 both soon returned to their former courses : 
 Oceanus chewing oakum, besmearing him- 
 self with tar and slush, and poking fun at 
 the cook, and his mother devising new 
 preventives against the scurvy. 
 
 " On the second evening subsequent to 
 the events just related, Oceanus was run- 
 ning free, all sails set, under an eight knot 
 breeze, due west-northwest, in the longi- 
 tude of Key West. 
 " ' Two bells !' cried the man at the helm. 
 " The bells ushered in the second hour 
 of the first watch. The sky was clear ; 
 the gentle moon just peeping above the 
 waves over the starboard quarter, and not 
 yet old enough to dim the brilliancy of her 
 sister stars, which burned above and around, 
 thick set in th'^ garments of the night. 
 Oceanus, in his mother's arms, walked the 
 deck. Sleep never pressed down his eye- 
 lids at such an hour, for he is of a gentle 
 spirit, and loves to commune with nature 
 in her quiet moods. All hands except the 
 watch had turned in ; those rough, weath- 
 er-worn tars, dreaming of the scenes of 
 childhood. I love a true sailor ; his vices 
 are the vices of the land, his virtues are 
 his own ; fair weather or foul, a lee shore 
 or a safe haven, he is always the same. 
 Brave, generous, he carries his life, as he 
 does his wages, in his open palm, and gives 
 it away as freely ; and when, at the close 
 of his checkered voyage on earih, he shall 
 safely moor in the port of heaven, God will 
 reward his toils with promotion. The cap- 
 tain, with the first officer, paced the quarter- 
 deck ; while here and there a drowsy pas- 
 senger leaned over the bulwarks, and 
 
 watched the fiery foam which flashed 
 along the ship from stem to stern. 
 
 " ' The barometer indicates change,' said 
 the captain ; ' the mercury has fallen twen- 
 ty hundredths within the last half hour.' 
 
 " ' All's right, with clear, open weather,' 
 said the mate. 
 
 '" Nothing offV said the captain to the 
 man at the helm. f. 
 
 " ' Nothing off", sir !' replied the helms- 
 man. 
 
 " ' Luff", there ! luff"! keep the sails full !' 
 cried the captain, as the ship fell off" half 
 a point to the north. 
 
 " ' Luff", sir !' 
 
 " ' Luff", you land-lubber, luff"! keep her 
 on her course ! don't you see that you are 
 shaking the wind out of her sails 1' roared 
 the captain. 
 
 " ' Luff, sir !' 
 
 " ' The wind is hauling round over the 
 larboard quarter,' said the captain. 
 
 " ' Not a rag of a vapour to be seen,' said 
 the mate. 
 
 " A small cloud, not bigger than a man's 
 hand, rose above the horizon in the south- 
 west ; the breeze freshened gradually, and 
 veered towards the south. 
 
 "'There is something there!' said the 
 captain, pointing to the cloud, which grew 
 larger and blacker every moment. 
 
 "' A flaw, with rain!' said the mate. 
 
 " ' Worse than that, I fear, Mr. Merrill ! 
 All hands ahoy ! we'll brace up a little ! 
 If the wind continues to increase, take in 
 the studding-sails and royals, ^tL Merrill !' 
 
 " ' Ay, ay, sir ! All hands^hc 
 out, there ! turn out !' 
 
 " The watch below turned upon deck. 
 
 " ' Bear ahead ! ease oflf the weather- 
 braces !' 
 
 "' Ease off", sir!' 
 
 " ' Port the helm !' 
 
 "'Port the helm, sir!' 
 
 " ' Haul in the lee braces !' 
 
 " ' Haul in, sir !' 
 
 " ' Heav-o-yo — heav-o-yo-up !' 
 
 "'Belay!' 
 
 "'Belay, sir!' 
 
 " ' Meet the helm !' 
 
 " ' Meet the helm, sir !' 
 
 " ' What's your course V 
 
 " ' W^est-northwest, a point north !' said 
 the man at the helm. 
 
 "'Luff!' 
 
 " ' Luff, sir !' 
 
 " The wind increased rapidly, still haul- 
 ing round to the south. The captain braced 
 up sharp to leeward. The little cloud grew 
 apace. The drowsy passengei-s left the 
 ship's side, and retired to their berths. 
 Oceanus still walked the deck, catching at 
 the air, and puzzled by the mystery of feel- 
 ing without sight. 
 
 " ' Take in the studding-sails, Mr. Mer- 
 rill !' said the captain. 
 
 " ' Man the studding-sails — down haul. 
 
 loy ! turn 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 73- 
 
 lower away the halyards, ease away the 
 tack; haul in the sheet.' 
 
 " ' Heave-o-y-o-o — heave-o-yo-up !' 
 
 " ' Belay !' 
 
 " The small cloud grew into a thousand, 
 piled like mountains crowding upon each 
 other, and blackening one quarter of the 
 heavens. 
 If " ' In with the royals !' 
 
 " ' Let go the halyards ; man the clew- 
 ine ; let go the sheets ; clew up, lay aloft, 
 and hand it !' 
 
 '^ The thunder muttered at a distance ; 
 the clouds rolled onward, like a sea bro- 
 ken from its barriers ; the wind chopped 
 suddenly into the southwest — the pattering 
 rain fell upon the deck — Oceanus went be- 
 low — it blew a gale. 
 
 " The captain seized his trumpet. ' Take 
 in the top-gallant-sails !' 
 
 " ' Let go the halyiirds ; man the bunt- 
 lines ; let go the sheets ; clew up, lay aloft, 
 and hand it !' 
 
 " The rain fell in torrents — the light- 
 ning's llash and the thunder's roar were 
 simultaneous. 
 
 " ' Take in the jib !' 
 
 '"Man the jib; down haul; let go; let 
 go the halyards : haul dowir ; belay ; lay 
 out, and furl it 1' 
 
 " The flapping of sails and ropes — 
 •Take in the spanker!' — the howling of 
 the winds through the rigging — 'Brail up 
 the spanker !' — the hurrying to and fro of 
 the ship's crew — ' Close-reef top-sails !' — 
 the dashing<).f the rain — ' Let go the top-sail 
 halyards !'-^the working of the pumps — 
 ' Haul up the reef tackle ; haul up the bunt- 
 lines ; lay aloft, and reef! — the ceaseless 
 artillery of the clouds — ' Haul up the main- 
 sail !' — the darkness which covered all — 
 ' Man the clew-garnets, buntlines, and 
 leechlines ; ease away the sheet ; pull 
 up !' — and made Danger more huge in his 
 proportions — ' Hand tlie main-sail !' — the 
 sharp, forked lightning — ' Lay aloft ; hand 
 the main-sail !' — which hissed in the vex- 
 ed and trembling billows — ' Set the spen- 
 cer !' — the wail of the awakened and af- 
 frighted women — ' Let go the brails ; haul 
 aft the sheet !' — the labour of the stout 
 ship — ' Take in the fore and mizzen top- 
 sails !' — which wrestled with the elements 
 like a strong man striving with his enemy 
 — ' Man the clewlines ; let go the sheets 
 and halyards ; clew up, lay up, and handle 
 it !' — the orders and responding orders of 
 the captain and his mate, given in hot haste, 
 screaming through the night, and piercing 
 the ear of the sailor boy who swung uncer- 
 tain upon the topmost spar — all were full 
 of terror. 
 
 " Oceanus was now sailing close-hauled, 
 under a close-reefed main-top-sail, and 
 spencers set, with a West India hurricane 
 blowing from the southwest, hard on to the 
 coast of Florida. Such weather, with a 
 
 lee shore, and that shore a Florida reef, 
 made the strongest heart in all that sea- 
 worn crew, who had often looked danger 
 in the face and laughed, quake with fear. 
 
 " The captain and his mate consulted to- 
 gether on the quarter-deck, looking out 
 upon the sea, whose waters, lashed to mad- 
 ness, burned like the fiery gulf, while, on 
 each hand, the flames, rolled in billows-, 
 served only to discover sights of wo. 
 
 " ' This cannot last long, Mr. Merrill !' 
 said the captain, clinging to the mizzen- 
 top-mast back-stay, while every single hair 
 of his head sang a separate tune ; ' she 
 will either go down head foremost, or be 
 dashed to pieces on the rocks. Get the 
 boats ready quietly ; do not alarm the 
 passengers ; and bend a line to a hauser ; 
 if thrown upon the reef, we may get it 
 ashore.' 
 
 " The mate turned away to obey orders, 
 which showed the desperation of the mo- 
 ment. Get the boats ready ! What boat 
 could live in such a sea ! Bend a line to 
 a hawser ! A man-of-war's cable would 
 crack like twine, grappled by such a tem- 
 pest ! /*^ 
 
 " TheCm^te returned to the quarter-deck.. 
 ' All is ready.' 
 
 " ' Mr. Merrill,' said the captain, ' we 
 must claw off; the current, with the winds, 
 will carry us upon the reef before morning, 
 standing on this course. Wear ship. 
 Square the aft yards.' 
 
 " ' Man the weather-braces ; ease off the 
 lee-braces; haul in; helm hard up.' 
 
 " The ship came round with a lurch. 
 
 " ' Meet the helm.' 
 
 " The ship sat upon the waves like a 
 duck, wearing at short intervals, and safely 
 riding out the storm. The morning came, 
 so long wished for ; how leaden are the 
 wings of time to misery ! the tempest had 
 passed. The sea heaved from its bottom ; 
 the ugly clouds broke asunder, and fled 
 before the rising sun ; the captain raised 
 his glass, and looked out upon the waste 
 of waters ; if others had been less fortunate 
 than himself, they had left no trace behind. 
 All were happy again, and exchanged mu- 
 tual congratulations, when the carpenter, 
 pale, his hair erect, sprang through the 
 hatch upon deck, and with quivering, livid 
 lips, announced a leak, with three feet of 
 water in the hold, and gaining fast ! ' All 
 hands to the pumps !' The ship had start- 
 ed a plank. .Toy fled, like a bird of passage. 
 They work for life — death stands palpable- 
 in their midst. The tempest is the sailor's 
 foster brother : they have wrestled together 
 from the cradle ; but a leak comes like aa 
 assassin — fatal ; the arm of the bravest can- 
 not ward off a secret blow. ' Thirty-six 
 inches of water in the hold !' A thrummed 
 top-sail is got ready to be hauled under tlie 
 ship's bottom. ' Four feet of water iu the 
 hold !' All labour alike, men and women. 
 
7i 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 The pumps, to their anxious hopes, look 
 like pipe-stems. ' Eight feet of wlker in 
 the hold !' They bail at the hatchways — 
 the water-casks on deck are stove, and 
 they throw overboard such parts of the 
 cargo as are nearest at hand. The ship 
 settles — the hold is full — the water is be- 
 tween decks. ' Get out the boats.' The 
 two yawls, which hang at the davits upon 
 the ship's quarters, are lowered into the 
 sea; the longboat amidsliips swam like a 
 sieve. A small quantity of bread and wa- 
 ter is put into them — the ship is on the 
 very point of sinking — the captain, the 
 ■crew, and the passengers crowd the boats 
 — the ship groaned, 
 
 " ' Gave a keel, and then a lurch to port, 
 And, going down head foremost, sank.' 
 " During the storm of the preceding 
 night, Oceanus's mother, who was a good 
 ■woman, and read her Bible, cast about for 
 means by which she might cheat the hun- 
 gry waves of the richest jewel of all the 
 spoil they gaped for. She was not selfish — 
 what young mother is 1 She would will- 
 iiigly go down to a watery grave, so the 
 life of her first-born might be saved ; she 
 asked that boon only in her prayejs, and it 
 •was granted. She remembered how Mo- 
 ses was exposed by the river's brink, 
 and, taking a small wooden box, which 
 she found between decks, she calked its 
 seams, and daubed it within and without 
 with tar, until she had made it seaworthy. 
 Then, gently raising the sleeping Occanus 
 — the tempest had rocked him to his dreams 
 — she softly laid him in the ark, strapping 
 him down, lest his love for the element 
 might induce him to rise and destroy its 
 balance, and packing him on every side 
 with oakum, until .she had made an even 
 surface, which she also tarred thickly over, 
 that the wave might leave it as it found it. 
 In that condition Oceanus entered the boat, 
 nunconscious of the change which a few 
 ■short hours had wrought in his fortunes. 
 Posthumous born, he knew a mother but to 
 lose her. Scarcely had the boats escaped 
 the whirl caused by the sinking ship, when 
 that in which Oceanus was embarked was 
 swamped. His mother, the captain, and 
 liis mate, with eight otliers, passengers and 
 seamen, went down amid cries of despair, 
 which soon grew faint, then died away, 
 and all was still ; and of that goodly ship 
 the sea showed noihing but one frail bark, 
 filled with those who scarcely hoped for 
 life, and that little ark, with its rich freight, 
 tossed from wave to wave, like a weed 
 cast upon its bosom, there to rot. The 
 old Tar of the Fife, who sat in the living 
 boat, seeing his favourite buflettcd about 
 •without compass or helm, would have 
 leaped overboard to his rescue, but his 
 companions held liim down ; the sea rolled 
 on — the ark disappeared behind a mountain 
 .of waters — thsn rose, showing like a pin's 
 
 head in the distance — and the old Tar, with 
 a groan, commended his young shipmate 
 to his Maker. The angel of death over- 
 shadowed the child with his wings, dropped 
 a tear, and passed on.* 
 
 " The ship was lost off Key West, and 
 a wrecker's boat, which follows in the 
 wake of a storm as do wolves in the track^x 
 of hostile armies, soon picked up the sur-\) 
 vivers before they had tasted of famine, or 
 expended their strength in struggles for 
 existence. 'About ship !' cried the old Tar 
 of the Fife, as he leaped upon deck ; ' Oce- 
 anus lives !' Remonstrance was vain ; the 
 saved would have risen upon their salvors. 
 Many a weary hour had they cruised with- 
 out falling in with the young navigator, 
 when the old Tar, who stood at the mast- 
 head with a glass at his eye, descried a 
 black speck just under the horizon over 
 the lee-beam, threw ttie telescope into the 
 sea, and came down with a run. ' Heave 
 to ; clear away the boat ; lower away ; 
 trim aft ; stretch out. Pull !' cried the old 
 Tar, ' pull !' while the oars buckled in the 
 hands of the oarsmen; 'if he drowns, I'll 
 hang you all for murder !' It was Oceanus 
 and his ark, and, as the wondering sailors 
 put up their oars and bent over him, the 
 boy looked up into their faces and smiled,, ^ 
 Old Ocean, pleased with the charge which 
 had been confided to his keeping, wrapped 
 him about with his waves as with a gar- 
 ment, rocked him upon his rough breast as 
 upon a downy pillow, played with him as 
 the noble-hearted lion plays with a poodle, 
 and like an old man who takes his grand- 
 child to his knees, kissed and laughed, and 
 laughed and kissed again. 
 
 " The old Tar of the Fife now adopted 
 Oceanus, and the wreckers carried him 
 into Key West, without benefit of salvage. 
 Were you ever in Key West ■?" 
 
 " Never," said I. 
 
 " It is a very moral place, where a wise 
 man may readily make a 'fortune,'" said 
 the lawyer. " Its population consists of 
 a worthy government judge and his posse, 
 lawyers, and wreckers ; should you ever 
 have the good fortune to be thrown upon 
 their reefs, they will extend to you such 
 acts of kindness as you will never forget. 
 
 " The wreckers fed Oceanus upon turtle- 
 soup till such time as his newly-acquired 
 father was enabled to ship both his son 
 and himself, before the mast, on board a 
 small coaster bound for Mobile. The 
 judge, his posse, the bar, and the wreck- 
 ers took leave of Oceanus as one who gave 
 
 * " The angel of death, on being asked whether, 
 in the discharge of his inexorable duties, an instance 
 had ever occurred in which he had felt some com- 
 passion towards his wretched victims, admitted that 
 only twice had his sympathies been awakened ; once 
 towards a shipwrecked infant, exposed on a solitary 
 plank, to struggle for existence with the winds and 
 waves." — Al Talisi. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 75 
 
 great promise of future distinction, and 
 already discovered talents which might 
 thereafter be usefully employed in either 
 of the four honourable professions which 
 they so honestly represented. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 " On arriving at Mobile, the old Tar pla- 
 (fced Oceanus with a good-natured inam- 
 orata, who was somewhat advanced in 
 5'ears, and had, consequently, shaken hands 
 with the wildness of youth, forgotten its 
 love of change, and assumed a position 
 which possessed the advantage of stabili- 
 ty, if wanting in many of the elements of 
 honour. She had known, in better days, a 
 higher condition of life, but, in obedience to 
 that law which God has affixed to crime, 
 she descended regularly through all the 
 grades of her profession until she was fair 
 to become the mistress of the old Tar of 
 the Fife, and add another to the list of those 
 whom he kept, dotted over the face of the 
 globe, living in every part, which he, fol- 
 lowing the track of commerce, visited in 
 the round of years. 
 
 " Commerce ! Where now are the mer- 
 chant princes of Tyre, who went down to 
 the sea in ships, creeping along the shores 
 of the Mediterranean, fearing every cloud 1 
 How has the knowledge of man grown, 
 until its head reaches the heavens, and 
 with its hands it clasps the earth ! Yet 
 with knowledge the wisdom of the few has 
 become as foolishness ; and with power 
 the wealth of the few has been divided 
 among many. The coffers of the mer- 
 chant of Tyre were richer than the coffers 
 of the merchant of England ; magnificent, 
 he lived in palaces, dressed in purple and 
 fine linen, and fared sumptuously every 
 day. The age of the wealth of the few is 
 gone ; the present is the age of the wealth 
 of the many. Thus it is that knowledge 
 levels ; it is ignorance which raises one 
 man above another. 
 
 " ' Here is a boy of mine, signora,' said 
 the old Tar, as he laid the playfuUOceanus 
 in the inamorata's lap ; ' be not over jeal- 
 ous, and it will be the better for us all.' 
 
 " The inamorata was pleased with the 
 gift, and honest Jack, after a little of mys- 
 tery, told his story. 
 
 " ' We must see what we can make of 
 him,' said the old Tar; 'you have virtue, 
 and know something of books, and I know 
 something of the world ; perhaps he may 
 command a merchantman before he dies.' 
 
 " Oceanus found a mother in the inam- 
 orata, and increased in stature every day. 
 Her kindness, uninterrupted during eight 
 years, made an indelible impression upon 
 his memory ; and he speaks of her now 
 with tears in his eyes. The old Tar re- 
 turned to salt water, made many a voyage, 
 and when bargaining for his wages, al- 
 ways laid aside for Oceanus the half 
 
 month's pay in advance. ' The young ras- 
 cal will have learning enough,' he would 
 say ; ' signora can read and write, and with 
 reading and writing he can himself find out 
 all that others know ; but he must have a 
 start in the world ;' and then he would add 
 a dollar to the small sum put by. He vis- 
 ited Mobile as often as once a year, and 
 was never so happy as when that port was 
 one of the termini of his voyage. At such 
 times he took the growing Oceanus wholly 
 under his own charge, in order to give him 
 what he called a practical knowledge of 
 life ; and if the inamorata may be said to 
 have taught him much that was practical 
 within doors, he cannot be said to have 
 lost, by pursuing, under a temporary ex- 
 change of masters, the same course of 
 study without. There were many things 
 necessarily falling under Oceanus's vision 
 while living with the inamorata, which 
 cannot be said to have a decided moral 
 tendency ; but as he was not then initia- 
 ted into the science of ethics, and was, con- 
 sequently, not well able to judge between 
 right and wrong, it is to be hoped their in- 
 fluence has neither been important uor 
 lasting. 
 
 " Oceanus exhibited at all times, during 
 the days of his swaddling-clothes, of his 
 petticoats, and that third stage of jacket and 
 trousers, the same predilection for water 
 which was so striking a characteristic of 
 his sojourn in the basket at sea. The in- 
 amorata used to say that he was half fish ; 
 and he now often says that it is a mystery 
 with him why Heaven confined man to the 
 earth, instead of giving him for his dwell- 
 ing-place that element which forms so 
 much the larger portion of the globe. Du- 
 ring his earlier days at Mobile, he passed 
 one third of his time in the gutter : a lo- 
 cality which the inamorata was disposed 
 to consider healthy ; and whenever he was 
 out of humour, and disposed to be trouble- 
 some, he could t^e easily pacified by being 
 put into a tub of*water. He would not run 
 out of a shower for all the world, for he 
 loved rain better than sunshine, and used 
 to account others the most arrant of fools 
 for avoiding that which gave him so much 
 pleasure. 
 
 " As Oceanus increased in years, the old 
 Tar introduced him to the more enterpri- 
 sing amusements of life ; of which, as may 
 be supposed, fishing was his favourite ; 
 and already, at six years of age, he might 
 be seen, with his master, of an overcast 
 morning, in Mobile Bay, 'angling and 
 crossing the sweet air from isle to isle, 
 over the silent streams of a calm sea.' 
 Before he was seven he could make spun- 
 yarn, weave matting, splice a rope, reeve a 
 block, call all a ship's ropes, sheets, stays, 
 sails, and yards in their order, backward 
 and forward, and box the compass ; and 
 had also, under the tuition of the inamo- 
 
 'i 
 
76 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 rata, got far into the history of the flood, 
 besides having committed to memory the 
 story of Jonah in the whale's belly. 
 
 "It was in the spring of Oceanus's eighth 
 year, that a gentleman, who had then late- 
 ly come to reside in Mobile, learning his 
 story, introduced himself to the inamo- 
 rata, and claimed possession of her pro- 
 tege, as being the boy's uncle by the fa- 
 ther's side. The gentleman, together with 
 a brother, late of this city, and of whose 
 fortune Oceanus is the heir, immigrated to 
 the United States some twenty years since, 
 and, being of an aspiring disposition, ap- 
 plied himself to that profession which, in 
 republics, and all constitutional govern- 
 ments, opens a highway to political pref- 
 erment. Having practised the law with 
 good success in one of the Northern cities, 
 he subsequently removed to Mobile for the 
 purpose of recruiting a broken constitu- 
 tion. A third brother, who had visited the 
 Indies only to return, wanting in enter- 
 prise, died poor at home, leaving a young 
 widow, whom the lawyer invited to make 
 one of his own family. Too proud to make 
 known to a stranger the extreme poverty 
 of her condition, the lawyer was ignorant 
 of her wants, and the young widow em- 
 barked in the steerage of a merchantman 
 for the port to which he at that time pro- 
 posed, and has since removed. The law- 
 yer learned the loss of the ship, together 
 with the young widow's melancholy fate ; 
 but he was ignorant of the birth of his 
 nephew, and discovered by accident the 
 existence of one whom he has since adopt- 
 ed and declared his heir in prospectu. 
 
 " The inamorata surrendered with many 
 tears a charge which had become dear to 
 her, but which her own good sense taught 
 her would be much the gainer by the ex- 
 change. But Oceanus was not so easily 
 persuaded ; and it was not until after long 
 argument, and many stipulations, with a 
 full guarantee that his widest liberty should 
 not be encroached upon, that he consented 
 to pack up his fishing tackle, his bits of 
 rope, his small compass, his little tele- 
 scope, and his rough models of all kinds of 
 vessels, from a ship of a thousand tons to 
 a Mediterranean felucca, fashioned by the 
 old Tar in his hours of calm, and remove 
 from the humble roof of the inamorata to 
 the more comfortable and more respecta- 
 ble residence of a gentleman of moderate 
 fortune. Yet he never forgot one whom 
 he very properly regarded as more deser- 
 vmg of his gratitude than a mother ; for 
 she had done all that a mother could do 
 without being moved thereto by blood ; and 
 if he found all his wants prevented, and all 
 his humours indulged in the house of his 
 uncle, he found joy, increased by a thou- 
 sand reminiscences, and ten thousand ca- 
 resses, in the home of the mistress of the 
 old Tar of the Fife. 
 
 " When the old Tar again returned to Mo- 
 bile, he was much grieved to learn that 
 Oceanus had found a new protector. He 
 missed him at the inamorata's door to 
 welcome his coming, and the long-wished- 
 for spot, which he had looked for over the 
 distant seas, counting the hours as they 
 passed, had lost its charm. He sang not 
 out the merry words which Oceanus de4| 
 lighted to hear, ' north, north by east, north- 
 northeast, northeast by north, northeast ; 
 northeast by east, east-northeast, east by 
 north, east ;' and when the old Tar and the 
 inamorata met upon the threshold, grief 
 choked them ; their hearts were in their 
 mouths, and they could not speak. 
 
 " But the old Tar was soon schooled to 
 forget self, and to rejoice in the growing 
 fortunes of one whose affections he found 
 unchanged ; and as he believed Oceanus's 
 increasing years now demanded the con- 
 tinual supervisorship of a watchful pre- 
 ceptor, he resolved to take advantage of 
 his old age and the stiffness of his joints,, 
 and surrender his right to the seas ; throw- 
 out his best bow anchor, and moor himself 
 alongside of the inamorata for the re- 
 mainder of his days. The inamorata was 
 well pleased with having finally fixed so 
 roving a lover; her vanity was flattered, 
 and the aged and still loving couple, having 
 exchanged, through the instrumentality of 
 the approved forms in such cases made 
 and provided, their former questionable in- 
 timacy for a more lawful cohabitation, the 
 old Tar of the Fife became thereafter a 
 worthy denizen of Mobile. The few pas- 
 sages which I have given of his life prove 
 the honesty of his heart ; and it gives me 
 much pleasure to bear farther testimony ta 
 the soundness of his political principles ; 
 during his subsequent residence in Mobile^ 
 he was never absent from the polls, and 
 always voted the democratic ticket. 
 
 " Oceanus was of a nature too independ- 
 ent to subject himself to the petty tyranny 
 of a schoolmaster. The old Tar had well 
 said, that the inamorata could read and 
 write, and, with reading and writing, he 
 could find out all that others knew. The 
 inamorata Avas not far behind her lover iiv 
 aflTection for the common favourite ; and 
 before he had completed his seventh, year,^ 
 she had taught him to read without spell- 
 ing, except very big words, and to write a 
 continuous hand in large letters. Being 
 of that class of women who have much 
 leisure, and possessing herself a good ed- 
 ucation, she had turned her attention some- 
 what to the lighter literature, and had 
 upon her shelves many of the old novels, 
 and books of voyages and travels, which, 
 in younger and brighter daj's, graced the 
 tables of her withdrawing room. To the 
 best of these, Oceanus was early intro- 
 duced. He read with avidity that most ex- 
 cellent of sea stories, Roderic Random, 
 
 « 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 77 
 
 ■and the voyages of that honest old sailor, 
 William Danipier, in three volumes, writ- 
 ten by himself; and if he digested a trans- 
 lation of Le Sage's curious ' Aventures de 
 liobert, dit le Chevalier de Beauchesne,' 
 containing the real history of a buccanier, 
 from papers furnished by his widow, his 
 ., reading was not wholly confiued to annals 
 of ancient dale, but embraced, through the 
 special indulgence and generosity of the 
 inamorata, who incurred some expense 
 in procuring the books, ' Scoresby's Jour- 
 nal,' ' Parry's Narrative,' and the account 
 given by Captain Bligh of the mutiny of 
 the Bounty. He dwelt much upon the ad- 
 ventures of the captain's open-boat naviga- 
 tion, and wished a thousand times he had 
 been there to participate in its excitement. 
 " When ten years old, having revolved 
 the matter in ' a mind capacious of such 
 things,' he determined to visit the island 
 of Cuba, which he had heard much spoken 
 of, in a way most consonant to his love 
 of adventure. After the many lessons he 
 had received from the old Tar in the art 
 of boat-building, he believed he could fash- 
 ion something which would carry him 
 safely over what, to his comprehensive 
 jf^ imagination, was nothing more than an or- 
 dinary pond ; so, secretly collecting to- 
 gether the requisite materials, he laid his 
 first plank in a small cove, well covered 
 by shrubbery, upon the banks of the Bayou 
 Chatique, about two miles out of the city. 
 , To this selected spot he would steal away 
 % upon every opportunity, excusing his ab- 
 k sence by well-devised stories, and, at the 
 '^llpnd of six months, succeeded in building a 
 vessel ten feet by four, in shape much like 
 a baker's trough. Well strengthened with 
 numerous knees fastened to the bottom 
 and sides, the seams nicely calked and 
 tarred, it was altogether as seaworthy as 
 such a box could be. From the many and 
 very particular questions touching nautical 
 matters which he daily put to liis precep- 
 tor during the progress of his labours, the 
 old Tar was sometimes led to believe that 
 his protege was about to play the truant ; 
 but Oceanus always contrived to lull the 
 ^^mnd man's suspicions, while he gained the 
 ^Bnga^^on he sought for; and, having laid 
 ^RtPBR for three weeks, and provided 
 himself with two extra suits of jackets and 
 trousers, besides linen, and a small sum 
 of money to pay port•^cha^ges on the other 
 side of the Gulf, he was ready to enter upon 
 his voyage. 
 
 " It was of a soft, starry evening, in the 
 month of May, when the tiny waves, called 
 into existence by a gentle breeze blowing 
 from the land, crowned their curling tops 
 with u light foam, which sparkled for a 
 moment like a gemmed coronet, and then 
 broke to give place to a succeeding ripple 
 as beautiful and as short-lived as its prede- 
 cessor, that the vouthful navigator, in the 
 
 language of the insurance companies, 
 'broke ground,' and 'got under way,' so 
 that, had he taken out a policy upon the 
 risk, it must have then attached. Oceanus 
 selected the evening for the time of depar- 
 ture, lest, both from an unwillingness to 
 clear from the custom-house and the queer 
 character of his craft, he might attract ob- 
 servation and be overhauled in the bay be- 
 fore he had well got to sea. Yet he would 
 not leave his benefactor to the inquietudes 
 of doubt, and therefore, before casting 
 loose from his moorings, he put into the 
 hands of a slave whom he had hired to as- 
 sist in launching his boat, a letter, written 
 in his loudest character, and addressed to 
 the old Tar under the affectionate title of 
 father, with instructions to deliver it in the 
 morning. The letter ran after this wise : 
 
 " ' Dear Dad— Fm off for Cuba in the 
 good ship Adventure ; stout built, copper 
 fastened, well calked, and no mistake. 
 Victualled for twice the voj^age. Captain, 
 officers, and crew sound as a nut. Hope 
 to see your jolly old phiz in less thair 
 three months. 
 
 " ' Your loving and obedient son, 
 " ' Ocea'nus.' 
 
 " The slave no sooner saw Oceanus mo 
 ving off under a shoulder-of-mutton sail 
 at the rate of three knots an hour, than h' 
 hastened to secure the postage that he ex 
 pected to receive at the old Tar's hands 
 by a penny-post delivery made many houra 
 earlier than the time specified by his young 
 master. Oceanus, in his estimation, had 
 regarded only the bearer's comfort and 
 convenience in fixing a more remote pe- 
 riod for the accomplishment of his errand ; 
 but the poor slave was sadly in want of 
 money, and was willing to incur extra 
 trouble, in hopes of an extra reward. The 
 old Tar sat quietly smoking his pipe in his 
 own doorway when he received the impor- 
 tant epistle, and, on reading its contents, 
 burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. 
 There lie sat, laughing and roaring, until 
 the tears ran down his cheeks and wet his 
 breast ; while the inamorata stood over 
 him, horror-struck, supposing her best-be- 
 loved suddenly attacked with a fit of the 
 hysterics : a disease which one of his hatf- 
 its and age could not take except in its 
 most violent form. The old Tar hauled in 
 from exhaustion. 
 
 "'My old boy! what is the matter'' 
 cried tlie inamorata. 
 
 " The old Tar replied by breaking oui 
 afresh with renewed vigour ; throwing up 
 his feet, and bringing them down again with 
 great violence, while both pipe and lottt.T 
 alternately ascended and descended nnich 
 after the style of a juggler's balls whon he 
 endeavours to awaken the admiration of 
 the- unsophisticated by keeping at leust 
 one continually in the air. The inamo- 
 
 i 
 
78 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 rata, driven to desperation, caught at and 
 secured the letter in one of its descents, 
 and hastily sought in the mystic scrawl 
 which blotted its first page the cause of 
 her husband's strange convulsion. The 
 inamorata was a woman, and fear for 
 Oceanus's safety stifled in her all inclina- 
 tion to merriment. She questioned the 
 slave ; and, learning that Oceanus had ac- 
 tually taken to water, with the time and 
 the manner, she soon brought the old Tar 
 to his wits, and hastened him off", together 
 with six of his neighbours, in search of the 
 fugitive. 
 
 " Piloted by the slave, he first visited 
 the cove, but found there only evident tra- 
 ces of Oceanus's skill in ship-carpentry. 
 ' I knew the young rascal would be a man 
 before he was a boy,' said the old Tar. 
 ' He will never crawl through the lubber's 
 hole in his way to the mast-head, and if he 
 lives to grow up, will find the northwest 
 passage. Blow me, if I don't think he is 
 half way to the Havana before this.' 
 
 " One of the company suggested the pos- 
 sibility of the boat's having capsized, and 
 the poor child drowned. 
 
 " ' Drowned !' exclaimed the old Tar, 
 touched by the insinuation ; ' would you 
 drown a fish? I picked him up ten years ago 
 in the middle of the Gulf, sailing, like a 
 mermaid, in a box not bigger than my hat. 
 Drowned ! I have held his head under 
 water ten minutes by a watch on a wager, 
 and he came out laughing ! When Oceanus 
 dies of drowning, I will forswear salt 
 water.' 
 
 " The old Tar and his companions return- 
 ed to the city, obtained a yawl, and rowed 
 down the bay in search of ' the Adventure.' 
 They had laboured some two hours, look- 
 ing through the night, shouting his name, 
 and resting at intervals on their oars, in the 
 vain hope of catching a reply, when, sud- 
 denly, there rose upon the air, afar off, just 
 audible over the quiet bay, the shrill, piping 
 tones of a youthfui singer. 
 " ' The sea, the sea, the open sea ! 
 
 The blue, the fresh, the ever free ; 
 
 Without a mark, without a bound, 
 
 It runneth the earth's wide region round ; 
 
 It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies, 
 
 Or like a cradled creature lies !' 
 
 " ' Hurrah ! that is he !' exclaimed the old 
 Tar. 'Drowned! Stretch away! I taught 
 the j'oung rascal that song ; the best in all 
 the service. Give us another strain, you 
 young dog; give us another!' 
 " ' I'm on the sea I I'm on the sea I 
 
 1 am where 1 would ever be ; 
 
 With the blue above, and the blue below, 
 
 And silence wheresoe'er I go ; 
 
 1 f a storm should come, and awake the deep, 
 
 What matter ? I shall ride and sleep.' 
 
 " ' That you will,' cried the old Tar ; ' you 
 have done it before. You'll do ; I'll risk 
 you. Blow me, if he don't sing nearly as 
 well as myself!' 
 
 " ' I love, oh ! how I love to ride 
 
 On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide ; 
 When every mad wave drowns the moon,- 
 Or whistles aloud his tempest tune, 
 And tells how gocth the world below, 
 And why the southwest blast doth blow!'' 
 
 " ' You may well ask that question, you 
 young rogue,' said the old Tar ; ' a south- 
 west blast drowned your mother. By 
 G — d, how my eyes water ! I shall cry like 
 a child. Isn't he a captain !' 
 
 " ' I never was on the tame, dull shore, 
 But I loved the great sea more and more ; 
 And backward flew to her billowy breast, 
 Like a bird that seeketh its mother's nest ; 
 And a mother she was and is to me, 
 For I was born on the open sea !' 
 
 " ' I'll swear to that ; for I stood as good 
 as godfather to your baptism, you young 
 scapegrace,' said the old Tar. ' It was a 
 little after eight bells in the afternoon, in 
 latitude 50° north, longitude 15° west of 
 Greenwich. Ship ahoy ! Heave to, or 
 I'll blow ye out of water !' 
 
 " ' The waves were white, and red the mom, 
 In the noisy hour when I was born — ' 
 
 " ' I say, shipmate — ' 
 
 " ' The whale it whistled, th^orp " " ^Il'd, 
 And the dolphins bar^ti their backs o. goW 
 
 " ' Avast ! belay that !' 
 
 " ' And never was heard such an outcry wild, 
 As welcomed to life the ocean child — ' 
 
 " ' Damn the boy, he is as deaf as a had- 
 dock !' 
 
 lMi|^ 
 
 'And Death, whenever he comes to me, 
 Shall come on the wide, unbounded sea !' 
 
 " ' But not yet, my little monkey of Ih 
 forecastle,' said the old Tar, seizing the no- 
 ble ' Adventure' by the poop, and staying 
 all farther progress of Oceanus and his for- 
 tunes. 
 
 " Oceanus had been too much engaged 
 with his song to notice the approach of his 
 pursuers, or hear the old sailor's running 
 commentary upon its execution; and when 
 he felt the sudden stoppage of his boat, 
 which nearly threw him off his centre, ho 
 thought he had struck upon one of those 
 sunken rocks which are laid down in.jpiai 
 chart, and are found only to be 1|^^' <" ^ 
 But the old Tar soon corrected hiMw*u.;<t5; 
 and, grasping him firmly by the collar, put 
 to flight all his dreams of discovery, by 
 gently raising him in air, and putting him 
 down with a flourish in the centre of the 
 yawl. 
 
 " ' I arrest you,' said the old Tar, ' in the 
 name of their high mightinesses, the United 
 States of America, as a common enemy, 
 pirate, and Turk, for proceeding to sea 
 without a certificate, sea-letter, register, 
 muster-roll, log-book, or any papers what- 
 ever ; for which high crime, I'm thinking, 
 young man, the old woman will soundly 
 box your ears.' 
 
 I 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUN"D IT. 
 
 " Oceanus was not in a comic mood. The 
 labour of months, and the project nearest 
 his heart, were gone ; he pouted, swore a 
 little, and, for a time, seemed disposed to 
 rise upon his captors ; but the old Tar knew 
 how to persuade him, and he soon signed fa- 
 vourable articles of capitulation, in accord- 
 ance with the first of which, ' the Adventure' 
 
 Awas made fast and towed safely into port. 
 
 ' " The inamorata was happy, and Ocea- 
 nus returned to his former courses. But 
 the old Tar did not long survive this adven- 
 ture ; the immoderate fit of laughter caused 
 by reading Oceanus's letter brought on an 
 inveterate relaxation of the bowels — di- 
 arrhaea fusa — and at the end of three 
 months he died, and was gathered to his 
 fathers. The old sailor, like the ancient 
 lyric poet, fell a victim to laughter. The 
 inamorata could not long outlive one whom 
 she had loved so much, and, of late, so 
 honestly. She went down to the grave 
 within the first month of her widowhood ; 
 and now they lie side and side ; their dust 
 is in the earth ; their souls safe anchored 
 in heaven." 
 
 " Gentlemen, will you permit me to close 
 the doors 1" said the janitor of the court- 
 
 .XQflm.f ' '"^fr <9^ 
 
 ^e looked arounBws. The court, the 
 
 'advocates and their clients, the audience, 
 
 and Oceanus, had all departed, and we, the 
 
 story-teller and his listener, were left alone. 
 
 The lawyer looked at his watch. " It is 
 
 late ; you will ditie with me at the doctor's 
 
 rooms ; it is his request." 
 
 I accepted the invitation. 
 
 " Will you finish Oceanus's story over 
 
 ^ihe wine ?" 
 
 The lawyer assented. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 OCEANUS SETS OUT UPON HIS TRAVELS. 
 
 "Behold the youth just now set free 
 On land, imnnersed again at sea, 
 Stow'd with his cargo in the hold 
 In quest of other worlds for gold." 
 
 SOMKRVir.LE. 
 
 " As near neighbours as we are, ninety-nine in a 
 hundred among the French are as httle acquainted 
 with th< ;i <ide of our island as with that of Japan." 
 
 — BoLlXi BKOKE. 
 
 " Attrf^WnViay, with assurance, be said, that, as 
 there is no creature that possesses so great a share 
 ef sagacity and reflection as man, so there is scarce 
 any more subject to be deceived." — Polvbius. 
 " Was ! quod she, that ever this should happe ! 
 For wend I never by possibilitee 
 That svviche a monstre or mervaille might be." 
 
 CUAUCER. 
 
 ARGU.MENT. 
 New and Old City.— The Doctor at his Chambers.— 
 The Doctor's Character and Personal Appear- 
 ance. — The Lawyer resumes Oceanus's Story. — 
 Oceanus's Uncle proposes that he shall visit Le 
 Havre.— He ships before the Mast.— Oceanus in- 
 Tests his Fortune in Cotton.— His Library.— Tom 
 Jones.— Gil Bias.— Don Qui.xote.— Wilhelin Mei.- 
 
 7-9 
 
 ter.— The Old Testament and Pilgrim's Progresi. 
 —Oceanus sets sail.— He teaches a Heretic Doc- 
 trine. — The Captain's energetic Interposition in 
 Favour of the True Faith.— Le Havre.— Oceanus 
 in the Streets of Le Havre. — Admiration of the 
 Women.— Jealousy of Les Vauriens.— Result of 
 his Speculation in Cotton.— His Despair. — Runs 
 away from his Ship.— Becomes a Vanupied.— Is 
 in want of a Dinner. — Takes to the Water. — A 
 Problem in Political Economy.- He raises the 
 Wind. — He concocts a Scheme to replenish his 
 Pockets. — Gustave. — Oceanus lays open his 
 Scheme to his Friend.— The Affiche.— The E.xhi- 
 bition. — Preparations for a Second Campaign. — 
 The Carte du Jour.— Monsieur Macaroni.— Pierre 
 Jean deB6ranger.— Oceanus and Gustave get Mel- 
 low. —'Le Roi d'Yvetot. — Monsieur Vinaigre. — 
 Malbrough. — The Policeman. — Gustave's Pres- 
 ence of Mind.— Preparation.— A new Way to Pay- 
 old Debts.— 'Gustave's admirable Management. — 
 Oceanus exhibits Signs of Cannibalism.— The Ne 
 gro's Retreat.— The old Gentleman with a Cane. — 
 Oceanus's admirable Acting.— Oceanus's Stomach- 
 tried. — The old Gentleman's Attack upon Ocea-^ 
 nus's Tail.— The Tables turned upon the old Gen- 
 tleman. — Unfortunate second Appearance of the 
 Perruquier's Apprentice.— The Show closes soon- 
 er than was expected.— Poetical Justice.— Ocea- 
 nus resolves to visit Paris. — He takes an affec- 
 tionate leave of Gustave. 
 
 SECTION III 
 
 The Cathedral, standing at the foot of 
 Chartre, and at the head of Conde street,- 
 marks, with clearness, the dividing line be-- 
 tween what may be now called the New 
 and the Old City. The shades run into 
 each other at Bienville-street ; but at the 
 Cathedral you step at once from a grow- 
 ing city of the New World, with its wide 
 thoroughfares, convenient walks, well-built 
 houses, of three, four, and five stories — 
 bustle and business — into a decayed town 
 of Europe. The streets are narrow, the 
 buildings low and mean, exhibiting few 
 signs of improvement, and the popuhition, 
 fixed, wanting in enterprise, fearful of 
 change, in fit unison with its own labours. 
 Even the names painted over the door- 
 \yays of the shops carry you to France,. 
 Spain, or Italy, and are familiar, because 
 they recall the characters and the events 
 of that history or story from which the 
 poets and novelists of old drew their plots, 
 if not their inspiration — a mine which has 
 ever been more fruitful than the cold im- 
 agination of the North. Look around you 
 — everything is strange, because you did 
 not expect to find upon the Western Con- 
 tinent, within the territories of the new, 
 ever-changing, inward-moving, great Re- 
 public, the architecture, dress, manners, 
 languages, and faces of the old, retrogra- 
 ding, palsied monarchies of tlie Eastern 
 hemisphere ; but if you have travelled, or 
 have read the travels of others, or are 
 steeped in the olden literature, everythinjr 
 is familiar, because you have .seen or read 
 of all that is about you. The clerks in the 
 little shops, severe with nuistachcs and the 
 imperial, vend tape and bagatelle ; and the 
 barber and the chirurgeoii, as they were to 
 be found in the days of Ga Bias, meet io. 
 
 i 
 
«0 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 one and the same person. The helmet of 
 Mambrino swings bravely from the apex 
 of a riband-painted pole, reminding the 
 passer-by that blood-letting and shaving 
 are sister arts, and that the royal company 
 of bath-keepers and barbers, like the more 
 renowned, but not more ennobled, Society 
 of Jesus, have retired from the inhospita- 
 ble shores of France, to drag out a harm- 
 less existence in a land of toleration. It 
 is now near one hundred years since 
 George II. of Enghxnd built up a parti- 
 tion wall between knights of the lancet 
 and knights of the- strop ; but here innova- 
 tion is an evil, and the traveller below the 
 Place d'Armes walks amid a generation 
 Aviiich was born a century too late. O 
 New Orleans, thou most nuiltiform of cit- 
 ies! In the past, thou wast habited in the 
 costume of France or Spain ; in the future, 
 thou wilt put on the dress of the plain Re- 
 publicans who bought thee with a price ; 
 but in the present, thy garments are as 
 particoloured as was tlie coat of Israel's 
 favourite. The past is fixed, immutable, 
 and known ; the future will be what the race 
 ■whose language I write may make it ; but 
 the changeable present, the expiring past 
 struggling with the growing future, exhibit- 
 ing all the hues of the dying dolphin, as fleet 
 as the shadow npon the wall, to be caught 
 in the moment of existence or lost forever, 
 it is my province to chronicle — and can the 
 limner's pencil equal in rapidity the ob- 
 server's thought ! Thy amusements ; thy 
 hours of relaxation ; thy houses of play, 
 once legalized, now thriving under the 
 anathemas of the law ; thy slave marts ; 
 thy pohtical gatherings, unique, partaking 
 largely of the barbacue ; thy modes of bu- 
 siness, full of the excitement and uncer- 
 tainty of speculation, eschewing the quiet, 
 even progress of regular trade, with small 
 but certain gains : the story of all is to be 
 told, and one may be pardoned if he fails 
 in its telling. 
 
 " These are oui friend's chambers !" said 
 the lawyer, stopping before a comforta- 
 ble French-built house in street, with 
 
 its wide corridor, admitting two horses 
 abreast, high stories, and windows hung 
 with doors, opening inward, so as to make 
 the most of those means of ventilation, 
 and breaking short off the train of thought 
 to which the objects in the immediate vi- 
 cinity of the courts had given birth, and 
 which the name of Rizzio, blazoned over 
 the entrance to a cafe, quickened into ac- 
 tivity. Every name connected with the 
 history of the fair Queen of Scots belongs 
 to Romance. Rizzio, the favourite secre- 
 tary, the proprietor of a cafe amid the 
 swamps of a new world ! What changes 
 have swept over Europe since the day 
 when that name passed from the halls of 
 Holyrood, to reappear upon a theatre 
 which, to me, is ever new, and ever yield- 
 
 ing food for admiration — " New Orleans as 
 1 found it!" Time is the Mephistophiles 
 of life. 
 
 I found my friend the doctor surround- 
 ed, as are all bachelors of cultivated minds, 
 and with money at command, with a curi- 
 ous mixture of luxury and destitution. 
 Many things were rendered useless by 
 want of order, and even beauty was made 
 offensive by slovenliness. His chambers 
 needed the careful hand of woman, whom 
 Providence, in its wisdom, has alone en- 
 dowed with the qualities requisite to make 
 home comfortable. A skeleton strung on 
 wires, the vertebrae eked out with bits of 
 soft white leather, was the most prominent 
 ornament of the room we first entered, 
 while its walls were liberally adorned with 
 coloured maps of dissections of the human 
 body, which might well illustrate a hot- 
 press edition of Phineas Fletcher's " Pur- 
 ple Island." The doctor, as if aware that 
 such things are not, to the uninitiated, very 
 strong stimulants of appetite, conducted 
 us at once into a second apartment, where 
 we found a temperate repast waiting our 
 coming. 
 
 And now, while the dcujtor is doing the 
 honours of his tabl^|jiKviu make the read- 
 er somewhat better acquainted with the 
 person and character of a gentleman who, 
 both in his external appearance and men- 
 tal organization, exhibits, in close approx- 
 imation, the most opposite qualities. 
 
 The doctor is diminutive in stature, but 
 the several parts of his body hold that true 
 proportion, one with the other, which gives 
 to every combined whole the most pleas- 
 ing effect. His head, though small, is fine- 
 ly turned ; his forehead high, broad, and 
 projecting ; his eyes float beneath brows 
 so sweetly arched, that they seem touched 
 by the hand of Raphael ; and his nose is so 
 truly Grecian as to impart an air of effem- 
 inacy to the face it adorns. Here all beau- 
 ty of feature ends. There plays a wither- 
 ing smile about his thin, straight lips, 
 whether at rest or in motion, which dis- 
 covers the workings of a mind ill at ease 
 with the things of this world, and with dif- 
 ficulty repressed by the influences of edu- 
 cation. His chin belongs to that class 
 which Lavater would have st^dMjjlie li- 
 bidinous, and, when observed iii Connexion 
 with his mouth, mingles sensuality with 
 recklessness of principle. So conscious 
 is the doctor of this deformity, that he usu- 
 ally covers the lower half of his face with 
 his hand, even when conversing — then, in- 
 deed, he looks like an angel ; but when he 
 reverses the position, and conceals the 
 higher features. Heaven's outcasts are not 
 more changed. The doctor is careless in 
 his dress, without that pretension to fop- 
 pery which slightly characterizes the law- 
 I yer's toilet. My friend's intellectual por- 
 [tion involved even more contradictions 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 81 
 
 than his face. Poor Solomon's stor}- 
 shows that he is, what Dr. Johnson loved, 
 " a good hater ;'" and some passages, which 
 I shall hereafter have occasion to set down, 
 will prove that he is not deficient in kind- 
 ness, or wanting in sympathy for the mis- 
 erable. Although of a grave, if not severe 
 temper, he can at times give in to mirth 
 of a broad character, as will be seen here- 
 after. He is more learned than the law- 
 yer, but not equally a lover of literature ; 
 and prefers the dark, uncertain walks of 
 medicine to the flowery paths which the 
 law)-er treads too often for decisive suc- 
 cess in his profession. ^Yhile the lawyer 
 reads, and compares one with another, the 
 latest literary productions of the five prin- 
 cipal languages of Europe, the doctor 
 probes and criticises the last theory in 
 therapeutics. The lawyer lives for him- 
 self, and is wise in securing the largest 
 portion of intellectual pleasure, and there- 
 fore of happiness ; the doctor enjoys a 
 greater reputation with the world. It may 
 seem strange that two men of such oppo- 
 site qualities should be such fast friends ; 
 but they are both good — one by nature, the 
 other by force of education. Which is the 
 -most meritorious ? 
 
 When the cloth was removed, I remind- 
 ed the lawyer of his promise to relate the 
 remainder of Oceanus's storj'. The doc- 
 tor joined me in my request. ' He had him- 
 self heard a part of it from the uncle's lips, 
 and was willing to learn the whole history 
 of a boy who, at the early age of fifteen 
 years, had seen a good deal of the world. 
 The lawyer had done well when within 
 the influence of the drowsy precincts of 
 the court ; he could not but do better when 
 the wine circulated freely, and two listen- 
 ers supplied the place of one. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 " Oceanus," said the lawyer, resuming 
 the bo}-'s story, " was ten years old when 
 he lost his early protectors ; two who were 
 worthy of a love which they had purchased 
 with ten thousand favours. The sorrow 
 which came with that event welled up from 
 his soul, aivl for months he was sad, for- 
 got the water, and passed his days in the 
 buryilBg-^und upon the fine sandy plain 
 back of the city, strewing the inamorata's 
 grave with flowers, and that of the old Tar 
 with sea-weeds, which he believed he loved 
 better. When time, at length, wooed him 
 from his sorrow, he returned to his uncle, 
 moody, restless, and even more self-willed 
 than when, in the house of the inamorata, 
 every wish was prevented by indulgence. 
 Love, with its gentle wings, represses the 
 rougher humours of our nature ; but he had 
 buried his love in the graves of his bene- 
 factors, and now there was no one who 
 could put a bridle upon that spirit which 
 they had been unwilling to curb. He had 
 Li 
 
 learned freedom of thought and of action 
 from the inamorata : and the subdued con- 
 versation and artificial manners of his un- 
 cle, and of those he met with at his house, 
 were little in harmony with the plainness 
 and independence of his late teacher. If 
 his lip often curled with contempt for what 
 he considered as marking both the effem- 
 inacy and imbecility of his uncle's guests, 
 he was at no pains to conceal his thoughts, 
 and thus fanned the flame of his own ha- 
 tred of nature in stays, while he marred 
 the happiness of those who were good of 
 heart, if weak of mind, and whose follies 
 are to be attributed rather to education 
 than to mental deformitj-. It may be well 
 supposed that his restless desire to wander 
 abroad, and see other towns and other 
 countries, was not lessened b}'' the death of 
 the old Tar, or by an ungentle intercourse 
 with his uncle's company. The uncle, too, 
 was willmg to try the eff'ect of a sea-voy- 
 age upon his nephew's character; hoping 
 that, like adversity, it might bring out the 
 better parts, while it wore down and pol- 
 ished its rough and uncourtly projections. 
 
 " ' Oceanus, you shall see Havre,' said 
 the uncle one day to his nephew. 
 
 " The boy's face lighted up ; but recol- 
 lecting his uncle's wealth, and the many 
 repriraands which he had been pleased to 
 bestow upon him for what he called a love 
 of low pleasures, it was as quickly over- 
 shadowed with doubt. 
 
 " ' Before the mast V said Oceanus, in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 " ' Consult your own taste," said the 
 uncle. 
 
 " ' My father," said Oceanus — he always 
 thus honoured the manes of the old Tar of 
 the Fife — ' used to say that it was a disgrace 
 to enter the cabin througli the windows.' 
 
 " The matter was easily arranged : joy 
 works with nimble fingers, and Oceanus, 
 in tarred hat and sailor's jacket, a black 
 silk neckerchief, white trousers of coarse 
 duck, buttoned tigluly about the hips, and 
 shining pumps with large ties, was a sec- 
 ond time, and at the age of twelve years, 
 shipped before the mast. 
 
 " When the old Tar of the Fife died, the 
 small sums of money which he had laid 
 aside for the purpose of giving Oceanus a 
 start in life had swelled, in the aggregate, 
 to the handsome bequest of two hundred 
 and twenty dollars : the remainder of his 
 fortune, which fell to the inamorata, was, 
 shortly afterward, willed by the dying Mag- 
 dalen to the common favourite. Thus pos- 
 sessed of the means of acquiring wealth, 
 Oceanus told his uncle that he was willing 
 to double his estate. The uncle was cau- 
 tious, Oceanus determined ; and, as the 
 stronger ever conquers the weaker quality, 
 the hard earnings and parsimonious sa- 
 yings of the old Tar were soon transmuted 
 into cotton. Oceanus had lived too long 
 
82 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 amid the buying and selling of the great 
 southern staple not to be tainted by that 
 species of gambling. He had often heard, 
 while listening to the conversations of his 
 uncle's visiters, of large fortunes lost and 
 won by bold adventurers who were willing 
 to stake more than they possessed upon 
 the rise or fall of a penny in the pound, and 
 remembered only those who were the fa- 
 vourites of success. Calculations may be 
 based upon the value of cotton at a day to 
 come, and calculations may be based upon 
 the turn of a card ; but the sportsman who 
 trusts to one or the other will, sooner or 
 later, be fain to sit, like Beauvarlet, upon 
 the steps of the mansion which was once 
 his own, and gamble with the money which 
 may be thrown to him by his old associ- 
 ates. Oceanus's marine propensities had 
 gained him the acquaintance of most of the 
 shippers in Mobile, and with the old Tar's 
 estate in his pocket, in a country where 
 credit has been systemized, and paper, 
 without the intervention of the precious 
 metals, made to represent the value of 
 things, he was enabled to make up an ad- 
 venture which might double the invest- 
 ment, or overwhelm him with debt. But 
 cotton, with its expected profits, did not 
 constitute the whole of the wealth which 
 Oceanus intrusted to the dangers of the sea. 
 The inamorata's library, no mean collec- 
 tion of the writings of the older novelists, 
 enriched, during her later years of matri- 
 monial life, with works oT a serious cast, 
 was what we lawyers calf a donatio mortis 
 causa; and he was willing to relieve the 
 monotony of those hours of calm which 
 smooth the sea like a mirror, of which the 
 old Tar had often spoken in his tales of life 
 upon the ocean, with something better than 
 the coarse jests and clumsy practical tricks 
 of his shipmates. He did not forget his 
 favourite, Roderic Random, and as he had 
 heard the inamorata say that Tom Jones 
 discovered mc'" knowledge of the human 
 heart than any book she ever read, he 
 put that work also into his chest. And he 
 did well. The pilgrim who boldly assumes 
 the staff to travel, alone and unprotected, 
 the thorny and dangerous paths of life, 
 should lake his first lessons from a book 
 of infinite wit and perfect delineation of 
 character. Its truth will teach him how to 
 plant his steps aright, and its humour will be 
 a continual sunsiune. playing about his way, 
 and lighting him to the goal of happiness 
 he seeks. Tom Jones, Gil Bias, Don Quix- 
 ote, 11 Decameron, and VVilhelin Meister, 
 stand alone ; each without a rival in the 
 prose fiction of the language in which it is 
 written. The last four are full of delight- 
 ful incidents and characters well drawn ; 
 but they are disjointed and scattered : the 
 master-work of Fielding forms a whole. 
 ' It is,' said Northcote, ' a regular composi- 
 tion, with what the ancients called a be- 
 
 ginning, a middle, and an end : every cir-i 
 cumstance is foreseen and provided for ; 
 and the conclusion turns round to meet 
 the beginning.' We should study a book 
 which has secured for its writer the merit- 
 ed title of ' Prince of Novelists.' 
 
 " In literature those writers are most wor- 
 thy of praise, and w ill live, acquiring fresh 
 youth with the passage of time, whose 
 works bear the strongest impress of na- 
 tionality. 
 
 " Good-natured, with the obstinacy and 
 courage of the bull-dog ; open hearted, full 
 of rough frolic and fun ; stained with vices 
 of the surface, easily committed, and as 
 readily repented of; independent, free, and 
 yet loyal ; the spirit of Magna Charta, the 
 Bill of Rights, of the whole Constitution^ 
 moulded into and more than colouring the 
 character of the man ; overflowing with, 
 prejudices which are guarded as virtues,, 
 and rightly, for they have made the peo- 
 ple — Tom Jones is English, pure and un- 
 mixed. 
 
 " Gil Bias is French all over : a petit mal- 
 tre in full dress, admiring himself before 
 a mirror ; a creature of fashion, skilful ia 
 all the attitudes of the posture-master ; 
 volatile, clothed with the most harmless;^ 
 vanity, which injlires no one, and secures 
 to its possessor endless happiness ; life, 
 with him, consists in motion ; thought is 
 nothing — frivolity everything ; he lives ia 
 the outer world, and would droop and die 
 in confinement, like a flower without sun- 
 shine. He clutches at the ribands and 
 stars of courts as an infant clutches at 
 painted bawbles ; take them away, and he 
 will be happy with a fiddle, an onion, a 
 dance, and the open air. Those who ac- 
 cuse Le Sage of plagiarism cannot dis- 
 tinguish between the pencil of Hogarth and. 
 Michael Angelo ; discover that the French- 
 man and the Spaniard are portraits of each, 
 other, and find the prototype of Don Quix- 
 ote upon the Boulevards of Paris. 
 
 " The immortal creation of Cervantes !' 
 the noble pride of Spain, born of merit 
 when her sons were heroes ; formal, learn- 
 ed, intellectual, generous, and full of all 
 knightly qualities ; the soldier, the cour- 
 tier, and the poet blended into one whole ; 
 heroism, courtesy, and taste acting upon,, 
 refining, and raising each other : all sub- 
 dued by superstition —Don Quixote is 
 Spain run mad. 
 
 " 11 Decameron, the book of a hundred 
 tales, of endless variety, crowded with ac- 
 tion. The Ro4nan, emasculated ; the Ital- 
 ian, full of fiery impulse, and nothing more ; 
 the fire of ancient liberty not quenched, 
 but smouldering ; a soul, capable of great 
 things, squandered upon painting, statua- 
 ry, and the opera; taste dominant over 
 reason; the Spaniard and the Frenchman, 
 pride and frivolity, mixed together, hating 
 tyrants, yet readily bowing the neck to 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 83 
 
 each new usurper ; unclean, with the cor- 
 ruptions of the universal church ; morality 
 lost, is seen but to be wondered at ; vice 
 of every shade, from the first turning aside 
 from virtue to the blackest deeds of night, 
 acknowledged and vaunted of, under the 
 broad sun of day : an angel ruined. What 
 Italy was in the days of Boccacio, it is 
 now — a house divided against itself ; and if 
 others cannot find what I have said in the 
 Decameron, I can. In those hundred sto- 
 ries, men of all ranks, characters, and ages, 
 incidents of every kind, the most extrava- 
 gant and comical, the most touching and 
 pathetic, pass before us in rapid succes- 
 sion, like the shifting scenes of a theatre. 
 What genius, what manners, and what 
 morals ! The ground-plot of the work, 
 which holds its several parts together, is 
 descriptive of the times and the people. 
 ' Quando nella egregia citta di Fiorenza, 
 oltre ad ogn' altra italica bellissima, per- 
 venne la mortifera pestilenza,' says Boc- 
 cacio, 'sette Giovani Donne, tutte I'una 
 air altra o per amista o per vicinanza o per 
 parentado congiunte, delle quali niuna il 
 venti e otterimo anno passato avea, ne 
 era minor di diciotto ; savia ciascuna, e di 
 sangue nobile, e beila di forma, e ornata 
 di costunii, e di leggiadria inerta, ed tre 
 Giovani, non per cio tanto, che meno di 
 venticinque anni forre I'eta di colui che 
 piu giovane era di loro ; ne quali ne perver- 
 rita di tempo, ne perdita d'amici o di pa- 
 renti, ne paura di se medesimi, avea potu- 
 lo amor, non che spegnere, ma raffreddare 
 usciti della citta, si misero in via: ne oltre 
 a due piccole miglia si dilungarono da 
 essa, che essi pervennero al luogo da 
 loro primieramente ordinato.' And for 
 what end ? To bemoan their fair city, 
 stricken by the hand of God! To depre- 
 cate a plague which had spread its devas- 
 tations throughout Italy, and driven Louis 
 of Hungary from his prey 1 To weep over 
 the loss of friends ■? No. To shut out wo 
 with a wall of pleasure ! To steep their 
 lips in all uncleanness! The Decameron 
 is Italy. The spirit of its people lives in 
 every page. 
 
 "A German, outwardly, is dull andheavy; 
 compared, physically, with the Italian, he 
 is the dray-horse matched with the racer ; 
 but he carries the jewel, intellect, in his 
 head. If he draws his inspiration from 
 beer, like alcohol, it holds small resem- 
 blance to the gross material from which it 
 is distilled. Philosophical, metaphysical, 
 he is more refined than the Platonists, and 
 seeks for the causes of things anywhere, 
 except where they are oftenest to be found, 
 under his own nose. Transcendentalism 
 mingles with the common affairs of life, 
 giving to existence the patchwork hue of 
 reality and fiction. Capable of the highest 
 poetry and the lowest buffoonery, which 
 move before him, hand in hand, as if born 
 
 of the same mother, he can soar where 
 Milton feared to fly, amid that darkness 
 which proceeds from excessive light, and 
 will laugh until his sides ache over wit as 
 refined as that of the harlequin in the 
 French comedy which Pickle saw at the 
 Hague, got up to flatter Dutch taste. The 
 most acute of critics, he knows the soul as 
 it will be when set free by death ; and he 
 knows the body, as a mass of clay, unin- 
 spired ; but of that complex being, the 
 marvel of the Creator, the union of body 
 and soul, acting upon each other — a har- 
 monious compound — he is ignorant. W^il- 
 helm Meister is the wondrous intellect of 
 Germany spread out upon the pages of a 
 book ; and all who run may read. Wil- 
 helm Meister could not have been writtea 
 by Homer. The Iliad is the off"spring of 
 barbarism, mollified by poetry. Wilhelm 
 Meister is the offspring of civilization, pass- 
 ing into pure intellectuality, or mysticism. 
 Wilhelm Meister is the application of phi- 
 losophy to the most ordinary duties of life, 
 which it adorns and ennobles ; and, with 
 its German love of blood, its grossness, its 
 German love of buffoonery, is a perfect im- 
 age of its creator. 
 
 " I have said that the inamorata became 
 honest in the last years of her life. Upon 
 her death-bed, she called Oceanus to her 
 side, and presented to him a small copy of 
 the New Testament. ' Read this often/ 
 said she ; ' in it you will find those sweet 
 portraitures of our common Father — over- 
 flowing with love and mercy — which were 
 drawn by Christ. Read ; you will love, 
 and therefore obey.' The inamorata had 
 wept over the story of Jacob and Esau. 
 She had felt the beauty of the affection of 
 the elder brother, and revolted from the hate 
 and cool deception of the younger bora. 
 She believed it to be, not frailty, but a nat- 
 ural sense of justice, that caused her to 
 sympathize, even unto tears, with Esau, 
 when he cried ' with a great and exceeding^ 
 bitter cry, and said unto his father, Bless 
 me, even me, my father !' ' The moral- 
 ity of the older volume, separated from 
 foreign matter, is pure ; the religion it in- 
 culcates, cleared of Jewish superstition, is 
 divine — it is the one true and holy. But 
 there are acts therein chronicled, and char- 
 acters therein portrayed, approved of, and 
 now held up as exemplars unto men, whose 
 virtue might be questioned.' She feared 
 the prejudices of education — she distrusted 
 the judgment of men, and sought the ap- 
 proval of Heaven in the assent of that 
 reason by which we gain a knowledge of 
 right and wrong. The acts and the char- 
 acters which she would have condemned 
 in profane story, she equally condemned 
 in Holy Writ, and therefore substituted for 
 the older book John Bunyan's great prose 
 poem, where virtue is clothed in words 
 which shine like the garments of the just. 
 
64 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 Oceanus put the little Testament, and the 
 Pilgrim's Progress also, into his chest. 
 
 " The ship rode at anchor in the outer 
 bay. Oceanus stood among the sailors 
 upon the forecastle, with his hands upon 
 the tarred ropes he loved ; a favourable 
 wind blew from the land, and he departed. 
 The sun looked prosperously upon his way, 
 and the smile of nature without was re- 
 turned with an equal gladness of heart 
 within. How joyous is young Hope when 
 he first steps upon the theatre of life ! 
 The world, like a skilful juggler, plays its 
 tricks before him, till it cheats his wonder- 
 ing eyes into a belief that all which seems 
 to be is reality. Youth starts upon its ad- 
 ventures with the high imaginings of the 
 Knight of La Mancha, and is rewarded, 
 most frequently, with an equal success. 
 
 " Few events, other than those which, in 
 their ceaseless round, give to the sea its 
 monotony, characterized Oceanus's second 
 voyage across the Atlantic. 
 
 " When the acquisition of knowledge is 
 a pleasure, the student learns rapidly ; and 
 Oceanus was soon familiar with the ropes, 
 knew every sheet, sail, and tack, and be- 
 came as ready at a reef as the oldest tar 
 of the forecastle. His tender years, deli- 
 cate make, small, regular features, soft, 
 quiet eyes, and long, flowing locks of light 
 auburn, which rested in ringlets upon his 
 shoulders, together with the neatness of 
 his attire — for he took a pride in dress — 
 gave him an air of effeminacy, and won 
 from his companions both their favour and 
 the expressive sobriquet of ' the ship's 
 baby.' But Oceanus was not disposed to 
 take advantage of his youth, or the partial 
 friendship of the crew, to escape even the 
 most dangerous of the duties of a sailor ; 
 and he secured the good-will of his captain 
 as effectually by prompt obedience and ac- 
 tivity, as the love of his companions by the 
 more attractive qualities of his person and 
 character. 
 
 "In times of c<Jm, and when the ship 
 ran free before a prospering breeze, he 
 •would sit upon the fore-hatch and read the 
 story of his favourite Random, or discourse 
 wisdom from the pages of Tom Jones, to 
 a circle of weather-beaten and delighted 
 listeners, who forgot the toils they had 
 passed, and the dangers which were to 
 come, in peals of heartfelt laughter. But 
 he did not forget the dying injunctions of 
 the inamorata, and, upon the Sabbath, ex- 
 changed the novelists for the inspired biog- 
 raphers of our Saviour; and, in the sim- 
 ple language and apposite illustrations of 
 Christ, taught the comeliness of virtue with 
 more power than do all the laboured ser- 
 mons and glosses which on that day echo 
 through the vaulted roofs of ten thousand 
 churches. And when the rough sailors, 
 equally moved by the pathos of the narra- 
 tion and the silver cadence of the reader, 
 
 had wept at the tomb of Lazarus, and re- 
 joiced with the widow of Nain, he would 
 turn to that other book which he had also 
 received from the dying inamorata, accom- 
 panied with equal injunctions to read and 
 ponder on its contents, and which, in happy 
 simplicity, he consequently believed to be 
 the older covenant. He became warmly in- 
 terested in the allegorical progress of Chris- 
 tian through life, and his audience was 
 never more numerous or more attentive 
 than when he read from the glorious pages 
 which record the crosses and the triumphs 
 of the saint. But some among his listen- 
 ers were disposed to question the accuracy 
 of his knowledge, when, on opening John 
 Bunyan's immortal work, he would say, 
 ' Come, let us read a little from the Old 
 Testament.' Oceanus had been told that 
 ' the Bible' comprised both the old and the 
 new covenants, which were most com- 
 monly found in close juxtaposition under 
 the same cover ; a proximity not greater 
 than the fellowship of the inamorata's 
 last gifts, and he would not be persuaded 
 from his belief in the identity of Christian's 
 life with that book to which there are such 
 frequent allusions in the biographies of 
 Christ, although he was wholly unable to 
 find the cited passages. This innocent er- 
 ror gave rise to two sects among the 
 dwellers of the forecastle — those who re- 
 ceived the creed of Oceanus, and those 
 who scoffed at the idea of the story of the 
 trials of the Pilgrim being one and the 
 same with the writings of Moses, of David, 
 and the prophets. The schism threatened 
 to disturb the harmony of the ship's crew, 
 and to end in the destruction of the disci- 
 pline of the ship, when both parties agreed 
 •to refer the subject of their disputes to the 
 arbitration of their captain. The captain, 
 who was little of a theologian, and less of 
 a bibliographer, adjudged, with a round 
 oath, both parties to be in error, without 
 deigning to give the reasons of his decision. 
 But he so far resembled the councils which 
 of old were accustomed to settle points of 
 faith, that he resolved to enforce his judg- 
 ment with something more convincing 
 than argument, and, after anathematizing 
 Oceanus and his followers for a pack of 
 ignorant land-lubbers, who could not dis- 
 tinguish between ' Old John Banyan's' lies 
 and King Solomon's songs, and stigmati- 
 zing the opposite party as a set of idle 
 knaves, who troubled themselves about 
 matters which they did not understand, 
 when they might be better employed in the 
 manufacture of spun-yarn, he condemned 
 the whole forecastle to a penance of a half 
 allowance of salt-junk for a week, and 
 commanded his first officer to trice up and 
 give a sound dozen to the first delinquent 
 whom he should detect reading either the 
 New, or the true or spurious copy of the 
 Old Testament. A decision enforced with 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 85 
 
 a violence which proved it truly ex cathe- 
 dra, was calculated neither to convert the 
 heretics nor soothe the true believers ; and, 
 although the New Testament and John 
 Bunyan were never afterward read from 
 the forward-hatch, yet no one of Oceanus's 
 party acknowledged the evil of his ways, 
 while some of the opposite side came over, 
 and, having exchanged truth for falsehood, 
 will probably live and die in an error, which 
 can neither increase nor lessen their happi- 
 ness in this world or the next. But Oce- 
 anus was happy. His element compassed 
 him about, and on all sides, as far as the 
 eye could reach, an ever beginning, never 
 ending expanse of water met his smile, 
 giving joy to a heart which loved the ocean 
 as a child loves its parent. Life, without 
 passion, is like a placid bay, that sleeps, 
 land-locked, undisturbed by the currents 
 of the air, and knows no change but the 
 rising and falling of the tides, which, to the 
 sea, are what instinct is to the herd of 
 men, prompting to motion only to avoid 
 stagnation and death. There are those 
 who call quietude happiness ; but pleasure 
 is the offspring of passion, and is most per- 
 fect, most intense, when its origin is most 
 simple, attracting and concentrating upon 
 itself all the powers of the mind. Ocea- 
 nus's passion was the water; in its purity 
 he found an emblem of that Deity of whose 
 existence he had been taught by the inam- 
 orata. In his Steeping hours he dreamed 
 of it ; in the morning he saluted it with his 
 blessing; and it Avas the last object upon 
 which his eye lingered at night. Were 
 you ever in Le Havre T' 
 
 "No, sir!" 
 
 " Then it would be idle for me to de- 
 scribe it. If I were to tell you that, when 
 Oceanus was there, it was a flourishing 
 town of some twenty-five thousand inhab- 
 itants — since greatly increased — the sea- 
 port of Paris, situated in a flat, marshy 
 soil, at the mouth of the Seine, surrounded 
 by a wall and ditch, defended by a citadel, 
 and consisting of long, narrow streets, with 
 high houses of a heavy, mean appearance, 
 filled to the top with noisy, chattering, 
 light-hearted, and light-headed French pro- 
 vincialists, you would know no more about 
 it than you do now. You may read all 
 that has been written, converse with every 
 traveller who has visited a foreign land, 
 and yet, when you yourself go there, you 
 will find it as unlike your picture as are 
 the delineations of the actors, to the high 
 imaginings which Shakspeare has clothed 
 in verse. The minds of men are as vari- 
 ous as their bodies ; their eyes, like glass, 
 of different colours, different thicknesses, 
 and different purity, reflect, receive, and 
 refract different rays of light, so that no 
 one sees society as another sees it. It is 
 wise in youth to lay up a store of reminis- 
 cences for the diversion of old age ; and it 
 
 is wise to talk of what we know and of 
 what we have seen, in order to keep the 
 traces of past thought, and the images of 
 things gone by, fresh and vivid in the mind ; 
 but when 1 describe a place with which 
 you are unacquainted, you are deceived iii 
 more respects than one. If language was 
 perfect, you would see through my vision, 
 and not your own ; but as language is im- 
 perfect, you are removed one step farther 
 from the truth, and read the copy of a 
 copy. 
 
 " At the close of a voyage of thirty-five 
 days, Oceanus saw the windmills which 
 stand thick along the low coast of France, 
 from Cape la Heve to Le Havre ; and run- 
 ning within the walls of the town betweerj 
 two stone piers which form the entrance 
 of its harbour, he moored in safety, to the 
 entire satisfaction of all underwriters. 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 " Oceanus, by permission of his captain, 
 who had good-naturedly forgotten the he- 
 retical tendency of the boy's religious 
 opinions, passed the first week of his resi- 
 dence in Le Havre in the gratification of a 
 worthy curiosity. A new people, with 
 new manners, and a new language, occu- 
 pied and amused all his faculties ; and he 
 wandered through the streets of the town, 
 staring at everything which was to be seen, 
 admiring the voluptuous forms of the 
 women — Oceanus is a little precocious — 
 laughing at the practical jokes of the 
 merriest people on earth, and weeping, in 
 his simplicity, over the pantomimic tales 
 of wo of a sturdy army of beggars, whose 
 mmibers filled his mind with wonder, and 
 whose wants he supplied with a sailor's 
 liberality, until his pockets had nothing 
 more to give. But if he was himself all 
 eyes and all ears to the infinite novelties 
 around him, his own beautiful person, his 
 youth, the neatness of his professional at- 
 tire, his silent admiration, and, more than 
 all, his national character, at a time when 
 all France rang with the rap of General 
 Jackson's hickory club upon its portals de- 
 manding the six million reclamation, at- 
 tracted equal attention. 
 
 " ' Ah ! qu'il est beau ! Si jeune, et mate- 
 lot! C'est un ApoUon nascent. C'est 
 Cupidon, qui a quitte son metier pour tra- 
 vaser la mer!' exclaimed les belles citoy- 
 ennes de Le Havre, as Oceanus sauntered 
 along, looking up into their eyes, uncon- 
 scious of the praise he elicited, all the fine 
 qualities of his person heightened by the 
 genuine na'icete which sat upon his boyish, 
 unschooled face. 
 
 " ' Sacre coquin ! C'est un jeune Ameri- 
 cain. Un de ce pays qui vent nous ecor- 
 cher!' cried some half dozen idle, ragged 
 petit vauriens, wlio hang about the corners 
 and public places of every city, taking les- 
 sons in vice, and who claimed Oceanus's 
 
86 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 attention only as speaking a language 
 which he could not understand. 
 
 " ' Mon Dieu !' exclaimed les belles 
 dames, whose admiration was turned into 
 another channel by a knowledge of Ocea- 
 lius's citizenship. ' Mon Dieu ! le petit 
 Leau sauvage ! Avcc les longues tresses 
 de sa chevelure blonde. Ah, c'est un ange 
 habilie comme un petit gari^on I' 
 
 " ' Sacre foutre ! qu'il est villain, en fai- 
 sant parade d'une telle fierte. Ce n'est, 
 sans doute, qu'iin vanupied comme nous !' 
 cried les vauriens, pressing upon his heels, 
 and huddling about him witli sundry dem- 
 onstrations of fight ; and they were not 
 required to wait long for a touch of Ocea- 
 jius's quality. After the true American 
 style, which knows nothing of rules, and 
 cheered on by the encouragements of the 
 "women — God bless them! their sympathies 
 are always with the weaker side — he put 
 forth his strength right and left, and ma- 
 king up in agility what he wanted in sci- 
 ence, he demolished six noses in less time 
 than it would take to count them. 
 
 " Similar scenes were frequently enacted 
 in the course of Oceanus's week's ramble 
 about Le Havre, so that he early acquired 
 some knowledge of the French language, 
 especially of its stronger and more idio- 
 matic phrases, together with an insight 
 into certain national traits of character 
 ■which he could in no other way have gain- 
 ed. But as an offset against such advan- 
 tages, he returned to the ship at the close 
 of his leave of absence with two very black 
 eyes and the better part of his wardrobe 
 in a condition which rendered it unfit for 
 future service. The gains and losses of 
 this guerilla sort of warfare were in that 
 ■way so equally balanced, that Oceanus 
 resolved to make no more incursions into 
 the enemy's country, except in the legiti- 
 mate and protected character of a man of 
 business. 
 
 " Our hopes are ever to be dashed to 
 earth when highest ; and Oceanus's dreams 
 of wealth were roughly compelled to shake 
 hands with poverty. When the region 
 about his eyes had recovered its natural 
 colour, thinking it time to look after his 
 adventure, he called upon his consignee. 
 Cotton had fallen ! It may be difficult to 
 understand how these things happen, but 
 every blow of General Jackson's hickory 
 club knocked it down a centime in the 
 pound, and the important merchant, instead 
 of gently stroking down Oceanus's fair 
 hair, and telling him tliat he was a smart 
 boy and would die rich, coldly turned from 
 his inquiries, with the soothing information 
 that his venture had wrecked twice his in- 
 vestment. Oceanus returned to his ship, 
 and sought the inmost recess of the fore- 
 castle. For the first time in life he knew 
 what it was to be a debtor ; and for the 
 first time in life that horrid phantom which 
 
 day and night traverses the earth, entering 
 the dwelhngs and claiming the companion- 
 ship of men — Want — deformed with filth,^ 
 rags, and disease, offered her embrace,' 
 while she whispered in his ear, we have 
 many years to live together. Depressed, 
 regretting the past, despairing of the fu- 
 ture, he gave way to a flood of tears. His 
 self-willed arguments, and his uncle's 
 doubts ; his sanguine promises of success, 
 and his uncle's cold sneers, returned to 
 him, and entered like a two-edged sword 
 into his heart. He wanted courage to 
 meet the jeers which a^vaited his return to 
 Mobile, and from day to day, while the 
 ship was reloading with the products of 
 France, and as the time drew near for her 
 departure, he grew absent and moody, 
 neglected his duties, drew down upon him- 
 self the anger of his captain, and quarrel- 
 led with his companions, till, failing in 
 moral strength, he committed his first false 
 step in life — and ran away. 
 
 " We gain wisdom from loss, and a harsh 
 lesson learned in youth is often experi- 
 ence cheaply paid for ; but nothing com- 
 pensates a turning aside from duty ; pun- 
 ishment is as sure as justice is certain. 
 Oceanus has found bitter proof of this 
 truth, both in the vice and filth of Europe 
 and in the vice and filth of our own pris- 
 ons. His first act, after leaving his ship, 
 was to make his peace with his late ene- 
 mies, les petits vauriens ; a stroke of pol- 
 icy which was quickly followed by his be- 
 coming, without a figure, the veriest va- 
 nupied that infested the docks, blind-alley&, 
 and public places of the city. For two 
 weeks he I'ay concealed in one of those 
 hells to be found in every port, called a 
 sailor's boarding-house, and when, at the 
 close of that period, he ventured abroad, 
 he was told that the pittance which the 
 pawnbroker had advanced upon his last 
 shirt was exhausted, and that he must find 
 lodgings elsewhere. 
 
 " Oceanus, the truant, was able to smug- 
 gle from his ship but little more of his 
 wardrobe than what he wore upon his 
 back ; his wages had been already portion- 
 ed out among the beggars of Le Havre ; 
 and those four great works, Roderic Ran- 
 dom, Tom Jones, the New Testament, and 
 Pilgrim's Progress, which he believed to 
 contain all knowledge, worldly and moral, 
 besides a vast fund of pleasure and con- 
 solation, which satisfy the wants of the 
 mind, he would not part with in order to 
 satisfy the grosser wants of the body. 
 Surely, as he wandered, houseless and 
 cheerless, about the city, there was in his 
 carriage but little of that fierte which had 
 excited the envy of his late friends, the 
 vanupieds. But the body must be fed; 
 and he who is starving cannot steal ; for 
 all he takes to stave off hunger is, by the 
 first law of n ;ure, his own. The truth of 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 87 
 
 this proposition, which men readily assent 
 to in the abstract, but question when prac- 
 j;ically enforced, suggested itself to Ocea- 
 lius's ruminating spirit, and, like Brindley, 
 who always took to his bed when puzzled 
 by any difficulty in mechanical science 
 which threatened to checkmate his ge- 
 nius, he took to the water. And there he 
 lay, floating upon the surface, in the midst 
 of the harbour, surrounded Avith shipping, a 
 thousand small boats flying in every direc- 
 tion, unheeded and unheeding, his head 
 iilled with crude notions of political econ- 
 omy. ' Ireland,' says Ebenezer Elliott, ' is 
 brought down to the lowest force that will 
 support life ; and when that is the case, 
 neither life nor property can be safe.' And 
 why not 1 Because, when it is brought so 
 low, it may be brought still lower ; and 
 then property is swallowed up in self-pres- 
 ervation. This was the problem which 
 jOceanus desired to solve — At what point 
 does starvation commence ^ and when are 
 we permitted to take that which is held by 
 another without incurring guilt ^ He could 
 see through the matter pretty clearly in 
 theory ; but the practice of every well-reg- 
 ulated government clouded it with difficul- 
 ties. The law says that starvation com- 
 mences when it has done its work, and 
 will hardly give to the dead pauper that 
 Test which it denied him while living. As 
 ratiocination became perplexed, and grew 
 darker and darker, Oceanus would dive and 
 swim some fifty yards under water, com- 
 ing up at a new point, blowing like a seal, 
 and shaking his dripping locks as would a 
 sea-horse his mane, if he had one. This 
 evolution was repeated so often as to at- 
 tract the attention of the busy walkers 
 upon the adjacent quays, whose shouts 
 soon drew together a crowd of curious 
 idlers, with voices equally ready for ap- 
 plause. Oceanus, discerning the cause of 
 the noisy admiration of the landsmen, laid 
 aside his knotty problem in political econ- 
 omy, and gave up his whole strength to an 
 exhibition of his skill in hydrostatics. He 
 rolled and tumbled like a porpoise, sank, 
 then rose, threw himself entirely out of 
 water, re-entered the element head fore- 
 most, rose again, fanned the air with his 
 hands, skimmed along just above the sur- 
 face like a flying fish, and disappeared. 
 Then he would dart through the water like 
 a shark, approach a boat loaded with fruit, 
 turn a somerset over the heads of the as- 
 tonished market-women, and reappear 
 where the spectators least looked for him. 
 
 " Lcs bons Citoyens were in ecstasies. 
 They shouted, clapped their hands, and 
 cried bravo, until Oceanus, like a new 
 candidate for histrionic fame, obeyed a 
 hundred calls, and landed to receive the 
 congratulations of his light-hearted admi- 
 rers. They pressed around him before he 
 had time to make his toilet. 
 
 " ' Qui etes-vous?' 
 
 " ' Un Americain.' 
 
 '" Et votre pereV 
 
 " ' II est mort.' 
 
 " ' Et votre mere V 
 
 " ' Elle dort au fond de la mer.' 
 
 " ' Ah, Le pauvre Orphelin ! Tenez done 
 — la ! la !' and they filled his hands with 
 sous and franc pieces. 
 
 " If Oceanus now spoke French passably 
 well, and understood it better, it is not to 
 be wondered at. A boy of his years, with- 
 out diffidence, and urged on by necessity, 
 will learn a language in three weeks. 
 When the memory is young and ductile, 
 it readily retains the three thousand words 
 which are bandied about in the every-day 
 conversations of business, social wants, 
 and social recreations. 
 
 " Oceanus put on his dirty, ragged clothes, 
 and walked joyously back into the heart of 
 the city. He had forgotten his problem in 
 political economy, and thought only of 
 hunger and the present means of satisfy- 
 ing it. He soon found a cafe which admit- 
 ted to its tables patrons of an external ap- 
 pearance as questionable as his own, and 
 with the larger half of a roasted cat in one 
 hand, and a bottle of claret, which was too 
 sour ever to have been sweet, in the other, 
 he turned his thoughts towards the future, 
 in search of a way whereby he might gain 
 a subsistence less precarious than that 
 which Heaven, in its abundance, had just 
 poured into his lap. Swimming in the 
 harbour, while it would lose its attractions 
 with its novelty, was necessarily an exhi- 
 bition which must depend for its remuner- 
 ation upon the generosity of the lookers- 
 on ; and it is hard to pay for pleasures al- 
 ready enjoyed. That scheme he laid aside 
 with his first bottle, and took up another 
 with the second half of the chat deguise. 
 The echoes of General Jackson's hickory 
 club still rang in the ears of France, and, 
 remembering the interest which his own 
 person excited when accused of being an 
 American by the petits vauriens, who, with 
 a Frenchman's adoration of glory, were 
 willing to receive more kicks than coppers 
 in defence of the national honour, he re- 
 solved to turn the whole matter to the ad- 
 vantage of his pocket by exhibiting him- 
 self to the curious public as a rare speci- 
 men of the genus homo, species America- 
 nus. He cast about him for the means by 
 which to put into execution so admirable 
 a project, and soon bethought himself of 
 one of the sturdiest of his new friends, the 
 vauriens, who possessed that quickness 
 of parts and knowledge of the world which 
 were necessary to insure success. The 
 bottle of sour claret and the chat deguise 
 had produced a revolution in Oceanus's 
 feelings ; there is all the difference in the 
 world between a full and an empty belly ; 
 and he sallied forth from the cafe surround- 
 ed with his former hopes, while visions of 
 
88 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 wealth again floated before his eyes. As 
 he walked dreamingly along through the 
 streets, no jolies dames stopped to admire 
 the beauty of his flowing- locks, for they 
 had already passed into the hands of a per- 
 ruquier before the pawnbroker received 
 his last extra shirt, and, however lofty may 
 have been the flight to which his spirit then 
 soared, his more earthly part, disguised 
 with rags and dirt, reduced him to a level 
 with the veriest vanupied in Le Havre. 
 He was not compelled to go far in search 
 of his friend ; for he had retraced but half 
 his steps towards the docks, when he es- 
 pied, on the opposite side of the way, the 
 hopeful youth, whom he was willing to 
 make a partner in his fortunes, in the act 
 of relieving the pockets of an honest, pa- 
 triotic old gentleman, who stood gaping in- 
 to a shop window at a well-drawn carica- 
 ture of the Citizen King piling cannon balls 
 and bombshells upon the back of the Old 
 Hero, in answer to the dun for the six 
 millions reclamation. Ocearius arrived in 
 time to prevent an act of disinterested be- 
 nevolence which neither Bunyan, nor ei- 
 ther of the other three great works which 
 he then always carried about his person, 
 had thought it politic to praise ; and taking 
 his friend under his arm, he led him away 
 to a more favourable situation, where he 
 might, undisturbed, open to his wondering 
 mind a scheme which was to pour gold in- 
 to their laps more freely than fortune was 
 then pouring want. 
 
 " Oceanus and his companion sat upon 
 a little stone step, deep within one of the 
 blind alleys of Le Havre, the listener assu- 
 ming an air of grave reflection, as if he 
 weighed each word as it was spoken, and 
 the schemer talking and gesticulating after 
 the manner of one who is determined that 
 his project shall not fail for want of an ad- 
 vocate. 
 
 " ' What do you think of it, Gustave ■?' 
 said Oceanus, drawing a long breath, at 
 the close of his '>arration, and addressing 
 his friend, who was a big boy of some two 
 years more of life, without education, 
 without morals, without anything except- 
 ing a long, lanky person, scantily covered, 
 a sinister look, with such a knowledge of 
 men as necessity always gives to those 
 whom she compels to exist by their wits, 
 and a right to live. 
 
 '• ' Sacre foutre ! it is a good thing, and 
 would succeed, my young Arab of the 
 woods I' exclaimed Gustave, applying to 
 Oceanus the soubriquet by which he was 
 known among the vanupieds of Le Havre, 
 who conceived that little difference, other 
 than their homes, existed between him and 
 the Moor, whose quiet their royal master 
 then disturbed upon the shores of Africa ; 
 ' but we want capital. Twenty francs is 
 a great deal of money ; and twenty francs 
 would hardly cover the outlay.' 
 
 " Oceanus laid his hand significantly 
 upon his pocket. 
 
 "'Tut! my little moralist — you who 
 have the four saints always with you — 
 Sacre Dieu ! our Church puts no such 
 nonsense into our heads ! have you lifted 
 a purse to-day ? Aha ! I thought so — il y 
 a jamais dans le langage d'un hypocrite 
 une certaine douceur que n'a pas la 
 verite !' 
 
 " Oceanus sprang to his feet, and stood 
 looking down upon the vanupied with min- 
 gled rage, wonder, and shame. ' Does 
 contact with sin, indeed, so contaminate ! 
 His associate, he believes me a thief ! 
 Then the honest have long since drawn a 
 similar conclusion !' 
 
 '• The vanupied looked up into Oceanus'S' 
 face : ' Fi done ! Get out of that ! I under- 
 stand you : you can't play Tartufe with 
 me !' said he, sneeringly. 
 
 " Oceanus sprang at the vanupied's 
 throat. 
 
 " ' That will teach you better manners !' 
 said the vanupied, as Oceanus rolled upon 
 the pavement, the blood spirting from his 
 nostrils, and adding little to the comeliness 
 of his appearance. ' D — n you, you are 
 no better than an Englishman, and I have 
 a great mind to treat you to a few extra 
 kicks, by way of a gentle hint to leave your 
 brusquerie nationale at home the next time 
 you visit La Belle France.' 
 
 " Oceanus rose, pretty well convinced 
 that, if his own folly had led him into bad 
 company, he could not well complain of 
 its inconveniences ; besides, as Gustave 
 remarked, since he Avas a stickler for mor- 
 als, he might have found out that there is 
 little diff'erence between picking a pocket 
 and swindling the public. 
 
 " The quarrel between the two friends 
 was soon healed : Gustave scraping the 
 blood from Oceanus's face, and Oceanus 
 laughing heartily at his late astonishment 
 at finding himself stretched along the pave- 
 ment, when he expected to have proved, 
 in the twinkling of an eye, that one Amer- 
 ican can whip three Frenchmen. Yet there 
 was something more than a mere verbal 
 diff'erence between the characters of the 
 two boys. Gustave said well, that picking 
 a pocket and swindling the public are, in 
 crime, one and the same thing; yet the 
 law does not say so — neither does society 
 say so — and Oceanus had not then learned 
 to distrust the moral perception of both the 
 one and the other. Gustave had a strong 
 mind, but, unfortunately, it was so warped 
 that it reasoned crookedly from straight 
 premises. Seeing others do that securely 
 which he knew to be wrong, he was will- 
 ing to go farther, and commit acts which 
 society punishes as crimes — railing against 
 the blmdness and partiality of the law, in- 
 stead of striving to remove the ignorance 
 and prejudice of its makers. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND It. 
 
 89 
 
 SECTION M. 
 
 " Young hearts are energetic, and Oce- 
 anus's project was no sooner approved of 
 than it was carried into effect. Soap and 
 water are great beautifiers of the skin ; 
 even Gustave was benefited by ablution, 
 and looked less the coquin for having a 
 clean face. They cast their old clothes, 
 as a serpent casts his slough, and a highly 
 respectable slop-shop kindly volunteered 
 its services to give them a genteel appear- 
 ance at half cost. A large, airy room was 
 taken, in the neighbourhood of the most 
 fashionable hotel of the city, and, as land- 
 lords there, as well as here, are the most 
 privileged class of creditors, the pets of the 
 law, who live by the game of grab, they 
 were not required to pay rent in advance. 
 Gustave put the chamber in order, arrang- 
 ing everything for effect — the French have 
 a natural taste for such things — and Oce- 
 anus's last franc pieces were paid away 
 for parti-coloured atiiches, which set forth 
 in grandiloquous periods the curious nov- 
 elty that was to be exhibited, for a few 
 days only, at No. — Rue de Paris. They 
 r^n much after this wise : 
 
 " ' Grande Curtosite Naturelle! 
 " ' Le Soussigne a I'insigne honneur d'in- 
 former le public tres-eclaire qu'il offrira a 
 ses regards dans une vaste salle No. 10 
 
 Rue , un jeune Americain et Yankee, 
 
 citoyen de la grande nation democratique. 
 II a et6 pris dans les plaines immenses des 
 Cannes a Sucre naturelles de I'etat de Mo- 
 bile. On vient de le transporter en France, 
 ou il n'a pas eu le temps de perdre par le 
 contact de la civilisation ses mceurs sauva- 
 ges. 
 
 " ' Caraclere Physique et Morale. 
 
 " ' Ses cheveux sont lisses, comme ceux 
 d'un Chretien, et son teint est un peu clair 
 pour un idolatre. II ne mange que des ne- 
 gres vivants et du tabac. Son intelligence 
 est superieure, et audessus de cette d'un 
 ourang-outang, car il salt faire usage d'un 
 couteau et d'une fourchetle — pourvuque 
 celle-ci n'ait pas plus de deux branches. 
 
 " ' P. S.— Son Altesse Royale le Roi de 
 Fran(;ais ayant exprime confidentiellement 
 un vif desir de voir ce phenomene de la 
 nature, on ne pourra le donner en specta- 
 cle que peu de jours, aux habitants de cette 
 ville — Prix d'entree, un franc' 
 
 " Oceanus pointed out to his friend Gus- 
 tave several small errors in this affiche ; 
 such as the arbitrary erection of the town 
 of Mobile into a sovereign state, and the 
 locating vast fields of wild sugar-cane in a 
 country where that useful plant can be 
 hardly forced to grow by dint of the most 
 unwearied cultivation; and then, Heaven 
 knew, he was not such a cannibal as to 
 feed upon live negroes, neither had he, as 
 M 
 
 yet, contracted the filthy habit, so common 
 among his countrymen, of chewing to- 
 bacco. 
 
 " ' The affiche was written by a very 
 learned acquaintance of mine, who has 
 read everything, and knows more about 
 your country than you do yourself,' said 
 Gustave, doggedly. ' You are wrong ; but 
 it would be all one if you were right. We 
 Frenchmen believe all my friend has said 
 of you Americans, and it would be bad 
 policy not to humour the error. Take 
 care, too, lest, in attempting to instruct the 
 public, the public do not set you down for 
 an ass.' 
 
 " There was much sound sense in the va- 
 nupied's reasoning, and Oceanus is a youth 
 open to conviction ; so the affiches were 
 posted up at the corners of the streets and 
 in the public places, drawing together large 
 crowds, who laughed, shrugged their shoul- 
 ders, doubted, convinced each other, and 
 resolved to attend the show. 
 
 " Oceanus and Gustave passed the night 
 prior to the opening of the exhibition in the 
 quiet streets of Le Havre, anxiously dis- 
 cussing their hopes, and mutually suggest- 
 ing such rules of conduct as each thought 
 necessary to success. 
 
 " ' I shall be compelled to act as door- 
 keeper as well as showman of the wild 
 beast, and treasurer of the establishment ; 
 I know no one we could trust to take the 
 money at the entrance,' said Gustave. 
 
 '"We must let in but a limited number 
 at a time, close the door, stir me up with 
 a long pole, and then, turning them all out 
 at once, admit a new set,' said Oceanus. 
 
 " ' That will never do,' said Gustave. 
 ' They without will break in from curiosi- 
 ty ; and, ten to one, they within will break 
 out from fright — for you are a terribly ugly 
 looking aniuial, Oceanus.' Oceanus bow- 
 ed, and the vanupied gave his late-pur- 
 chased shirt-collar a twitch with an air 
 which said, ' There, were you as good- 
 looking a fellow as myself, you might hope 
 to do something among the women.' ' No, 
 no ; I will keep at least one eye upon the 
 entrance ; not a franc shall escape me ; 
 and if we do not live hereafter like fight- 
 ing-cocks, it will be because you do not 
 understand your part. You must roar like 
 a mad bull ; and if a live nigger should 
 happen to come into the room, jump at him, 
 and look as if you wanted to eat him up.' 
 
 '"I can eat anything but tobacco,' said 
 Oceanus. 
 
 " ' Ah ! we will eat nothing, unless the 
 public insist upon it; then, perhaps, it 
 would be better for you to swallow the to- 
 bacco, though it may go against your stom- 
 ach, rather than run your neck into a hal- 
 ter by tasting t'other article,' said Gustave. 
 
 " ' Is it murder to kill a negro in France V 
 inquired Oceanus. 
 
 "The vanupied assured him they wer© 
 
90 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 there esteemed rather more highly than 
 ■white men. 
 
 " The exhibition opened. It was a fine 
 jnorning in the month of June, and the sun, 
 as it peeped into the windows, promised 
 to bring many visiters who would pay, in 
 return for the compliment of being permit- 
 ted to see the show gratis. Oceanus stood 
 at one end of the hall, with a heavy chain 
 encircling his waist, and made fast to a 
 large iron staple driven into the floor. His 
 dress, perhaps, indeed, none the better for 
 past wear, gave little indication of the 
 feigned ruggedness o-f his manners, for it 
 rivalled, in elaborate arrangement, the fas- 
 tidious toilet of the petits maitres of Le 
 Havre. This was Gustave's policy ; Oce- 
 anus would have selected the blanket, feath- 
 ers, and paint of a North American Indian ; 
 but Gustave understood his countrymen ; 
 they are great lovers of antithesis, and he 
 clothed Oceanus with the trickeries of 
 fashion for the same reason that the mu- 
 sic-grinder clothes his monkey in the ha- 
 Taihments of a man — the contrast between 
 covering and character is pleasing. 
 i " Gustave stood midway between Ocea- 
 nus and the grand entrance to the hall, his 
 face turned from his friend, with whom he 
 conversed in a half-suppressed tone of 
 voice, while he watched for the first of 
 that public which he expected to darken 
 his portal. 
 
 " ' Sacre coquin, it is now nine o'clock, 
 and no one comesJ' said the vanupied. 
 'It would be a fine joke if, instead of our 
 making an ass of the public, the pubMc 
 should make asses of us ! D— n it, clank 
 your chain, and growl so that you can be 
 lieard in the streets. I wish we had a big 
 drum, or a horn, or a grinding-organ ; there 
 is nothing like them for getting' together a 
 crowd. Walk in, gentlemen, walk in ; walk 
 in, and see the great natural curiosity that 
 never was seen, and never will be seen 
 again ; only one franc. I wish, Oce, you 
 liad them super>^ curls you wore the day 
 ■you knocked down some half dozen vau- 
 Tiens in the Rue de Paris; they would take 
 mightily with the women. Walk in, ma'am, 
 •walk in ; walk in and see the great natu- 
 ral curiosity what never was seen, and 
 never will be seen again ; only one franc,' 
 continued Gustave, addressing an old lady 
 who stepped up to the threshold of the hall, 
 and stood looking in, uncertain whether to 
 advance or recede. 
 
 " ' Is this the show ■?' inquired the old 
 lady. 
 
 " ' Yes, ma'am ; don't be afraid — he won't 
 bite — tame as a kitten,' said Gustave, ap- 
 proaching the old lady, with his left hand 
 stretched out to receive the piece of one 
 franc, while he doffed his hat with the oth- 
 er, and bowed with the sycophantic polite- 
 ness of the trade. 
 
 " The old lady paid the franc, walked 
 Into the hall, and put on her spectacles. 
 
 " ' La me ! is that a Yankee 1 I thought 
 he had a tail !' said the old lady, examining 
 Oceanus from a respectful distance. 
 
 " ' Yes, ma'am ; the first in the country ; 
 fresh imported ; he had a tail once, ma'am, 
 but wore it off" coming out, sitting down on 
 the hard deck of the ship,' said Gustave. 
 
 "^ What a pity ! He looks now just like 
 any other man,' said the old lady. 
 
 " ' Sacre bleu ! keep quiet, and look fierce, 
 or you will spoil all,' said Gustave, in a 
 whisper to Oceanus, who gave audible 
 signs of an inclination to laughter, while 
 his face was drawn into all sorts of comi- 
 cal shapes by the Violent exertions made 
 to suppress his feelings. 
 
 " ' What a queer way he has of screwing 
 up his mouth and nose ; maybe it's St. 
 Vitus's dance he's got,' said the old lady. 
 
 " ' D — n the old punk, she'll blow us. 
 Growl, Oce, growl ! and jump at her,' said 
 Gustave, in a second whisper. 
 
 " Oceanus snorted like a horse ; the old 
 lady, startled by the suddenness of the ex- 
 plosion, stepped back a few paces, and 
 made big eyes ; Oceanus, recovering him- 
 self, broke forth into a wild Indian whoop, 
 shook his chain, and leaped about like mad. 
 
 " ' Mon Dieu ! Lord bless us ! Quel sau- 
 vage ! I must go. What if he should 
 break loose ! Do, dear Mr. Keeper, give 
 him something to eat, and keep him still 
 till I get out,' exclaimed the old lady, hur- 
 rying towards the door, and looking over 
 her shoulder every second step to see 
 whether Oceanus was not upon her back. 
 
 " ' I am glad she is gone, the old quiz, if 
 we don't have another to-day,' said Gus- 
 tave, drawing a long breath. 
 
 " But Gustave was to have another, and 
 many another, too ; for Oceanus's wild 
 whoop had served all the desired purposes 
 of drum, trumpet, and hand-organ. It re- 
 verberated through the hall, and passed 
 into the streets, leaping from house to 
 house, thrown back in a hundred echoes, 
 now high, now low, like the wild gibberish 
 of some mad fiend. Sounds so foreign to 
 the ears of the good citizens of Le Havre 
 arrested the passers-by, and the curious 
 came pouring in, their love of the marvel- 
 lous rendered yet more active by the evi- 
 dent fright of the old lady, who descended 
 the short flight of steps which mounted to 
 the entrance with an agility that took forty 
 years from her age, and hobbled away at a 
 rapid pace, upsetting several small boys in 
 her course, until she had put two squares 
 between herself and the imaginary danger. 
 '• Gustave was too much occupied in re- 
 ceiving franc pieces to reply to the many 
 questions which were asked concerning 
 the rare qualities of the animal exhibited; 
 but Oceanus h-ad learned a lesson from the 
 credulity of the old lady, and acted his 
 part so well as to keep his visiters at a 
 distance. They saw all the savageness 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 91 
 
 of the wild man sleeping under a very mild 
 exterior, and Oceanus would have had no 
 cause to complain of the minuteness of the 
 examination to which he was subjected, 
 had not an old gentleman with a cane, who 
 had travelled beyond Le Havre, and under- 
 stood trap, given him sundry pokes in the 
 ribs and backside for the purpose of try- 
 ing his metal. Oceanus parried the old 
 gentleman's thrusts as he best might, and 
 rattled his chain, and growled, and whoop- 
 ed so fiercely that some young ladies pres- 
 ent became alarmed, and insisted that the 
 old gentleman should let the young savage 
 alone ; a courtesy he was too much of a 
 Frenchman to deny, although he was over- 
 heard to exclaim, as he walked away, 
 * Quelles sottes ! But I have not yet done 
 with the Yankee !' 
 
 " Many came and went. Those who 
 had paid, if they discovered the cheat, 
 were unwilling to acknowledge their folly, 
 and the day's exhibition closed to the seem- 
 ing satisfaction of all parties. Gustave 
 counted three hundred and forty francs ; 
 and, as soon as Oceanus could put off his 
 disguise, the two friends sallied forth for 
 the purpose of treating good luck to a good 
 supper and good wine. 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 " ' I like the old woman's idea of the 
 tail; you must have one!' said Gustave, 
 as they walked along, arm in arm, in search 
 of a restaurant. 
 
 " ' It might have done very well to have 
 begun with one, but now, those who have 
 seen me will not be persuaded that so im- 
 portant a piece of me can grow out in one 
 night !' said Oceanus. 
 
 " ' Never fear, man, you will see no old 
 faces ; those who have paid one franc are 
 not such fools as to pay a second ; I say 
 you shall have a tail — a long, hairy tail I 
 and I know who will make it — the perru- 
 quier right over the way — it will not cost 
 much !' said Gustave. 
 
 " ' Well, just as you say ; you know the 
 French people better than I do ; yet it is a 
 speculation, and I hate speculations !' said 
 Oceanus, thinking of his cotton. 
 
 " ' It will be capital well invested !' said 
 Gustave, as they entered the perruquier's 
 shop. ' Monsieur Faussechevelure, can 
 you make me a tail before morning T 
 
 " ' I can make you a whole ga^on in one 
 tenth of the tin.e !' said Monsieur Fausse- 
 chevelure. 
 
 " ' Fi ! monsieur, badinage aside ; I have 
 done you many a good turn in the way of 
 clipping off tails a la Chinois from young 
 misses' heads of an evening, and now you 
 shall return the favour by making me une 
 grosse queue a la bobouin !' said Gustave. 
 
 " The perruquier took Oceanus's meas- 
 ure. 
 
 " ' And now I will have some new affi- 
 
 ches struck off, with a nota bene, thus : 
 " 11 a une queue !" It will be money well 
 laid out !' said Gustave. 
 
 " ' Just as you say ; you know the 
 French people better than I do,' said Oce- 
 anus. 
 
 " The affiches were ordered ; the printer 
 promised to see them stuck up in all the 
 public places before daylight ; and the two 
 friends renewed their search for a supper. 
 
 " ' Don't turn in there,' said Gustave, as 
 Oceanus, leading the way, was about to 
 descend into the cellar where he had the 
 day before obtained a dinner which hunger 
 made exquisite ; ' they will give you stew- 
 ed cat for rabbit, and sour logwood for 
 chateaux Margaux. That will do for a 
 filthy vaurien, but we have money in our 
 pockets, and it is money that makes a king. 
 Faugh, how I hate a poor man !' and Gus- 
 tave piloted his friend to the most fashion- 
 able restaurant of the city. 
 
 " Gustave entered the eating-house with 
 an air of importance, seated himself at a 
 vacant table, and, after a patronising man- 
 ner, invited Oceanus, who had not yet lost 
 the modesty of virtue, to take the chair 
 opposite. A servant presented the carte 
 du jour ; Gustave examined it carefully, 
 gave vent to several terms of contempt, 
 said it was a meager bill, and ordered 
 ' potage de tontue' for two. 
 
 " ' Passable,' said Gustave, as he tasted 
 the soup. Oceanus thought it delicious. 
 
 "'Will you have anything morel' said 
 the servant. 
 
 " ' More !' exclaimed Gustave, fiercely ; 
 ' more ! Whom do you take us for 1 We 
 have come to dine, sir ; we want a din- 
 ner — a whole dinner — and one fit for a 
 prince !' 
 
 " The servant trembled for his place. 
 
 " ' Coquille d' huitres and two bottles of 
 Lafitte,' roared Gustave. 
 
 " The oysters were excellent ; the wine 
 better. 
 
 " ' This will cost something,' said Ocea- 
 nus. In his mind, it was possible the franc 
 pieces might not hold out. 
 
 " ' Tush ! we are lords ; money freely 
 won should freely go,' said Gustave. ' Tru- 
 ite a la Genoise, et Monies aux fines her- 
 bes, with a bottle of Chably.' 
 
 " ' Fine fish,' said Oceanus. 
 
 " ' Tolerable," said Gustave. ' Let me 
 give you a taste of this Chably.' 
 
 "'Chably! what is Chably 1' inquired 
 Oceanus. 
 
 " ' I wish you would ask such questions 
 in a lower tone,' said Gustave. ' Bceuf a 
 la chicoree, with pommcs de terre an na- 
 turel.' 
 
 "'I have eaten almost enough,' said 
 Oceanus. 
 
 " ' Enough ! what a Hottentot ! We have 
 but just begun,' said Gustave. ' Filet de 
 bceuf aux truffcs • Oreille de veau au bcurre 
 
92 
 
 NEW ORLEAN>^ AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 noir ; Rognens au vin de Champagne ; 
 Epinards au jus ; Chicoree a la cr^me ; 
 and a bottle of Hochkeimer.' 
 
 " The proprietor rubbed his hands ; an- 
 other servant was added to the cortege of 
 the two friends. 
 
 "'I shall burst,' said Oceanus, forcing 
 down a morceau of the filet de bceuf aux 
 truffes much against his appetite. 
 
 " ' Quel b6te ! Do the Tich leave off 
 when hunger is satisfied ] Pish ! they don't 
 know what hunger is. We are rising in 
 the world. We have a character to sus- 
 tain. Let me give you a glass of this 
 Hochkeimer.' 
 
 " Oceanus did not ask what it was, but 
 looked imploringly towards the street. 
 
 " ' You need not look in that direction ; 
 you will not get away for an hour to come,' 
 said Gustave, with rather a thick accent. 
 'How d — d s-l-o-w these — hiccough — ser- 
 v-a-n-t-s are ; sacre coquin ! I say, Mon- 
 s-i-e-u-r Macaroni, you must ke-e-p — hic- 
 cough — better servants.' 
 
 " The proprietor bowed, made an humble 
 apology, coolly stuck a fork in the back- 
 side of one of the waiters, in order to 
 quicken his pace, hoped the gentlemen 
 were satisfied, and would continue to pat- 
 ronise his establishment. 
 
 " ' I don't know — hiccough — as to 
 t-h-a-t," said Gustave ; ' P-i-g-e-o-n en — 
 hiccough — cra-pau-dine ; but if you — hic- 
 cough — canard a-u-x olives — we'll pat- 
 ron-ise — hiccough — Truffes ranl^es au 
 Champagne — me.' 
 
 " ' May 1 be permitted to ask in what 
 wayV said Monsieur Macaroni, with a look 
 of astonishment. 
 
 " ' A bottle of Madere,' cried Gustave, 
 fiercely ; then, leaning across the table, he 
 pulled Oceanus's nose. 'Wake up, my 
 little cock of the walk.' 
 
 " The proprietor returned to his desk. 
 
 " ' Sacre nom de Dieu ! I was very near 
 betraying — hiccough — the noble secret,' 
 said Gustave, as Oceanus raised his eyes, 
 heavy with an overcharged stomach, in 
 answer to the gentle admonition of his 
 friend. ' But it is safe yet, the old prig,' 
 and he cast a furtive glance at the propri- 
 etor. 
 
 " ' Come, 0-c-e,' said Gustave, filling 
 two tumblers with Madere, ' I'm not go- 
 in-g — hiccough — to drink eight glasses to 
 your one. Ay, this is it — this it is to live 
 like a king — 1-i-k-e a — hiccough — little 
 king — vive — hiccough — le Roi d'Yvetot !' 
 and he broke forth into one of the deserv- 
 edly most popular chansons of the most 
 national poet of France. 
 
 " Pierre Jean de Beranger is the most 
 national of the poets of France, because 
 he is the most original ; and he is the most 
 original because his verse involves, to a 
 greater degree than that of any other wri- 
 ter, the possession of those mental quali- 
 
 ties which characterize the French people. 
 The nations of the earth are as widely sep- 
 arated in manners and habits of thought 
 as in language and government ; and it is 
 a picture of those manners, and an exem- 
 pHfication of those habits of thought which 
 we first seek and most prize in the repre- 
 sentatives of their literature. The poetry 
 of Beranger is the mirror of French intel- 
 lect ; and it is something more. There 
 are mental qualities which belong to na 
 one people — the heirlooms of genius, when- 
 ever and wherever to be found. Inven- 
 tion, fancy, enthusiasm, taste, sublimity, 
 wit, humour, satire — these belong to man- 
 kind ; and Beranger is possessor of them 
 all. Their modifications, the peculiar 
 modes and phases under which invention, • 
 fancy, enthusiasm, taste, sublimity, wit, 
 humour, and satire are evolved in litera- 
 ture and the fine arts, belong to a people — 
 and Beranger is France. 
 
 " ' Vive le — hiccough — Roi d'Yvetot,' 
 shouted Gustave. '0-c-e, wake — hic- 
 cough — up, my 1-i-t-t-i-e man, and join in 
 the chorus. 
 
 "'Oh! oh! oh! oh! — hiccough — ah! ah! ah! ah! 
 Quel bon petit roi c'etait la 
 La — hiccough — la. 
 
 " ' En avant, stand from under. 
 
 " ' II etait un — hiccough — Roi d'Yvetot, 
 Peu connu dans I'histoire, 
 Se levant tard — hiccough — se couchant tot, 
 
 Dormant fort bien sans gloire ; 
 Et couronne par — hiccough — Jeanneton 
 D'un simple bonnet de colon. 
 Dit — hiccough — on. 
 Oh! oh! oh !— hicco'ugh— oh ! ah! ah! ah! ah? 
 
 Oce. 
 Quel bon petit roi c'etait la ! Oce. 
 La — hiccough — la Oce. 
 
 " ' You are in a monstrous — hiccough — 
 hurry to get through with a good thing,' 
 said Gustave to Oceanus, who came out a 
 whole length ahead in the race of the cho- 
 rus. 
 
 " ' I did not know,' drawled out Oceanus, 
 nodding, ' I did not know that my name 
 was to be tacked on at the close of each 
 line !' 
 
 " ' Your name to — hiccough — be tacked 
 — hiccough — on ! It was not— hiccough — 
 Oce ; you are— hiccough— drunk, Oce.' 
 
 " ' Not so far drunk as asleep,' said Oce- 
 anus. 
 
 " ' Vive le Roi d'Yvetot ! try it again — 
 hiccough— Oce,' shouted Gustave. 
 
 " ' II faisait ses quatre repas 
 
 Dans son— hiccough— p-a-la-i-s de chaume, 
 Et sur un ane, pas a pas. 
 
 " ' Salmi de becassine ; olives farcies ; 
 and a bottle of " Beaume.'" 
 
 " ' Is that a part of the song V inquired 
 Oceanus. 
 
 "'WhyV said Gustave. 
 
 " ' Because, if it is an order, I'm tight as 
 a drum already,' said Oceanus 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 93 
 
 *' ' Parcourait son royaume. 
 
 Joyeux, simple, et — hiccough — croyant le bien, 
 Pour toute garde il n'avait nen, 
 Q'un — hiccough — chien. 
 
 " ' Now then : 
 •" Oh ! oh ! oh ! oh ! Ah ! ah ! ah ! — hiccough— ah ! 
 Quel bon petit roi c'etait la ! Oce, 
 La — hiccough — la ! 
 
 " ' Oceanus, it is my solemn opinion that 
 you have no literary taste,' said Gustave. 
 
 " ' How can you expect a boy of my 
 age, with his belly crammed full of French 
 gimcracks, to have literary taste?* said 
 Oceanus. ' Besides, John Eunyan— ' 
 
 " ' Ay, there you are again, with your 
 four — hiccough — saints; queer company 
 for them — hiccough. Oce — come, taste 
 this — hiccough — Beaume. 
 *' ' II n'avait de gout oneneur, 
 Qu'une soif un peu vive ; 
 
 Mais, en — hiccough — rendant son peuple heureux, 
 II faut bien qu'un roi vive.' 
 
 " ' I believe I'll go,' said Oceanus, rising. 
 " ' Lui-m6me, a table et sans suppot, 
 Sur chaque nuit levait un pot 
 D' — hiccough — impot. 
 Oh! oh! go! go! ah! ah! ga ! — hiccough — ga! 
 
 Oce. 
 Quel bon petit roi c'etait la ! 
 Ga ! — hiccough — ga, Oce—' 
 
 " A gentleman who sat at another table 
 beckoned to M. Macaroni to come to him. 
 M. Macaroni descended from his desk, 
 walked to the gentleman, and they con- 
 versed in an under tone together. 
 
 " ' This is an unusual noise — a strange 
 noise — a very extraordinary noise to be 
 made in your highly-respectable establish- 
 ment, Monsieur Macaroni,' said the gentle- 
 man ; ' and I must say that I am greatly 
 surprised thereat ; and farther, that if it is 
 continued, I shall deem it advisable to walk 
 out ; and farther, that if I walk out, I shall 
 not conclude to return — I shall not, Mon- 
 . sieur Macaroni !' 
 
 " * Aux fiUes de bonnes maisoiis 
 
 Comme il — hiccough — avail su plaise.' 
 
 " ' I beg a thousand pardons, Monsieur 
 Vinaigre,' said M. Macaroni, bowing with 
 great humility. 
 
 " ' Ses sujets — hiccough — avaient ceat raisoas.' 
 " ' But these English milords — ' 
 " ' Sucre lonnerre ! that fellow is not an 
 Englishman,' said M. Vinaigre. 
 " ' De le nommer leur p^re.' 
 " ' The younger is, I know by his ac- 
 cent ; and the elder must be, he eats and 
 drinks so much !' said M. Macaroni. 
 " ' D'ailleurs il ne levait de— hiccough — ban.' 
 " ' Englishmen or devils, this is no place 
 for a drunken carouse. Monsieur Maca- 
 roni — ' 
 
 " ' Que pour lirer, quatre fois I'an, 
 Au— hiccough — blanc' 
 
 " ' And since you are not inclined to keep 
 order in your own house, I will — ' 
 "'Oh! oh! go! go— hiccough— ah ' ah! ga! ga !' 
 
 " ' Leave,' said M. Vinaigre, rising aft«r 
 a very tempestuous manner. 
 " ' My dear sir — ' 
 
 " ' Quel bon petit roi — ' 
 " ' Sit still for one little minute.' 
 
 " ' C'etait la ! Oce—' 
 " ' I will not sit still.' 
 
 " ' La — hiccough — la ! Oce — * 
 " ' The youngest is going.' 
 " ' II n'agrandit — ' 
 " ' And so am I.' 
 
 " ' Hiccough— point ses etats— ' 
 " ' And the oldest will soon — ' 
 
 " ' Fut un voisin — ' 
 " ' Be under the table.' 
 
 " ' Commode — ' 
 " ' Good-evening, Monsieur Macaroni.' 
 
 " ' Et mo— hiccough — dele—' 
 " ' I am, indeed, very sorry. Monsieur 
 Vinaigre — ' 
 
 " ' Des potentats — ' 
 
 said M. Macaroni, gently detaining that 
 
 gentleman, while he regarded him with a 
 
 most lugubrious aspect ; ' but — ' 
 
 " ' Prit le plaisir pour code — ' 
 
 " ' These English milords pay so well.' 
 
 " ' Ce n'est que — hiccough — ' 
 " ' You will excuse me — ' 
 
 " ' Lorsqu'il expira — ' 
 " ' If I consult—' 
 
 " ' Que le peuple qui I'e-n-t-e-r-r-a — ' 
 " ' My own interest.' 
 
 " ' Pleu — hiccough — ra. 
 " Monsieur Vinaigre bounced out of the 
 room looking daggers. 
 
 " ' Will your lordships call for anything 
 more?' inquired Monsieur Macaroni, in a 
 very mild, insinuating tone of voice. 
 "'Oh! oh!—' 
 " ' Is your lordship unwell V 
 "'No! no! — ' 
 
 "' Will your lordship take another bottle 
 of—' 
 
 " ' Ah ! ah !— hiccough — ' 
 
 " ' Jean, bring his lordship a bottle of 
 that old—' 
 
 '"Ha! ha!—' 
 
 " ' Jean, his lordship has changed his 
 mind ; you need not — ' 
 
 " ' Quel bon petit r-o-i c'etait 1^ ! Oce, 
 La! Oc-e— Ik!' 
 
 drawled out Gustave, rising slowly to his 
 feet, and reeling towards Oceanus, who 
 stood with his back against the wall, his 
 hat drawn down over his eyes, and more 
 than half asleep, waiting the dissolution of 
 the little King of yvet6t. 
 
 " ' Oce, mon cher ami,' said Gustave, 
 throwing his arms affectionately about the 
 boy's neck, which he embraced more as a 
 staff for support than from any promptings 
 of affection; 'shall we — hiccough — have 
 another b-o-u-l ? 
 
94 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 " ' On conserve en — hiccough— core le portrait.' 
 
 " ' Yet again !' murmured Oceanus ; ' the 
 little king dies hard.' 
 
 " ' De ce d-i-g-n-e et bon prince,' 
 
 continued Gustave, swinging to the right 
 and left, while Oceanus's neck served as a 
 centre. 
 
 " ' D — n the song,' ejaculated Oceanus ; 
 'it will never end !' It was the first time 
 profanity ever stained his lips, and he re- 
 members it, and will remember it forever. 
 
 " ' Does my lord want anything V inqui- 
 red M. Macaroni, who thought it good 
 policy to remind his worthy patrons that 
 they were still in his restaurant ; hoping 
 that if their wants were fully supplied, they 
 might begin to think of his own. 
 
 " ' He wants grace,' said Oceanus. 
 
 " ' Mon Dieu I I beg — a — thousand — par- 
 dons, milord duke ; I am a little — blind ; 
 I ought to have known— your grace's rank,' 
 stammered M. Macaroni, bowing profound- 
 
 ly- 
 
 " ' I want — hiccough — your b-i-1-1,' said 
 Gustave, giving over his affection for Ocea- 
 nus's neck, much to the comfort of its pro- 
 prietor, and turning full upon the bowing 
 Frenchman, with his legs spread apart 
 something after the style of the Colossus at 
 Rhodes. 
 
 " 'It is a trifle, milor — your grace, I 
 mean ; a mere trifle ; only one hundred and 
 twenty francs,' said M. Macaroni. 
 
 " ' C'est I'enseign d'un cabaret.' 
 
 " ' May it please your grace, I keep a 
 restaurant,' said M. Macaroni. 
 
 " ' Fameux dans la province.' 
 
 " ' It is so,' said M. Macaroni. 
 
 " ' It is — hiccough — what V demanded 
 Gustave. 
 
 " ' Just one hundred and twenty francs,' 
 said M. Macaroni. 
 
 " ' Count the — hiccough — money,' said 
 Gustave, empty-ng the contents of one of 
 his breeches pockets upon the table. 
 
 " M. Macaroni made big eyes at the 
 sight of so many franc pieces, concluded 
 that his grace was a man of humour, and, 
 as M. Macaroni was an honest man, and 
 would not steal, he swept them off into a 
 plate, and said it was all right. 
 
 " ' Les jours de — hiccough — f6te, bien 
 souvent,' continued Gustave, thrusting one 
 of his own arms inside of another belong- 
 ing to Oceanus, and moving in a zigzag line 
 towards the door. 
 
 " ' Glad to hear it ; hope your grace will 
 always give me the preference,' said M. 
 Macaroni, rubbing his hands one within the 
 other. 
 
 " 'La foule s'ecrie en — hiccough — bu- 
 vant.' 
 
 " ' No, no ; no crowd admitted into my 
 establishment ; your grace will be entirely 
 alone,' said M. Macaroni. 
 
 " ' Hiccough — Devant.' 
 
 " ' Yes ; everybody outside ; turn theia 
 all out,' said M. Macaroni. 
 
 " .' Oh ! oh ! ho ! ho ! Ah ! ah ! ha ! ha !' 
 
 " ' Your grace is very facetious,' said M^ 
 Macaroni. 
 
 " ' Quel bon — hiccough— petit roi c'etait la !' 
 " ' A very good little king,' said M. 
 Macaroni. 
 " ' La — hiccough — la !' 
 
 " ' Quel bete !' exclaimed M. Macaroni, 
 as the door closed upon his patrons. 
 
 " ' How quiet the streets are !' said 
 Oceanus. 
 
 " ' Qui — hiccough — et ! yes ; everybody 
 is drunk — dead d-r-u-n-k, like yourself, 
 Oce. We'll wake them up ; we'll show 
 them how to live — pah ! how I hate a 
 poor — hiccough — man ! En avant. 
 " ' Malbrough s'en va-t-en guerre, 
 
 Mironton, mironton, miron— hiccough — taine, 
 
 Malbrough s'en va-t-en guerre, 
 
 Ne salt qu — hiccough — and reviendra.' 
 
 " ' I have heard that tune before,' said' 
 Oceanus. 
 
 " ' Very 1-i-k-e ; 'tis older than both of us.^ 
 
 " ' I have heard it in Mobile,' continued 
 Oceanus. 
 
 " ' Glad of it ; do you remem — hiccough 
 — ber the words V 
 
 " ' I think I do.' 
 
 " ' Then join in. We'll wake them up.. 
 En avant. 
 
 " ' 11 reviendra z-k Jaques,' 
 " ' Moll Brooks, she's gone to the army, 
 
 " ' Mironton, mironton, mirontaine,' 
 " ' She sold her buckles for brandy,' 
 
 " ' 11 revivendra z — hiccough — a Jaques,*' 
 " ' Her shoes for sugar-candy,' 
 
 "'OualaT-r-in-i-t-6.' 
 " 'I hope she'll never return.' 
 " ' Bravo ! we'll wake 'em up !' cried" 
 Gustave, too drunk to discern that Ocea- 
 nus sung, not only words, but a language^ 
 different from his own. 
 
 " 'Are you not afraid the night air may 
 injure your voice V said a gentleman who 
 was connected with the police of the city, 
 something of a humorist in his way, and 
 one who took the world quietly. 
 
 " Gustave had met with the gentleman's 
 face before, and, drunk as he was, his blood 
 ran cold when he felt the policeman's hand? 
 upon his shoulder. 
 
 " ' Can't I persuade you to pass the night 
 with me V continued the policeman, closing, 
 his fingers upon the collar of the vanupied'* 
 coat. 
 
 " ' What a nice city this Havre is !* 
 thought Oceanus; 'the people are so at- 
 tentive, and take so much interest in your- 
 personal comfort!' 
 
 " ' Jesu Maria ! what a clutch he has ! I 
 must contrive some way to shake off this 
 fungus of the law, or there is an end of the 
 show !' thought Gustave. 
 
 " ' Don't be bashful ; I can accommodate 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 93 
 
 you both ; I know you wont refuse,' con- 
 tinued the policeman. 
 
 " ' By all means, accept monsieur's invi- 
 tation ; remember we must otherwise sleep 
 upon the show-room floor,' whispered Oce- 
 anus, tucking his elbow into Gustavo's ribs. 
 
 " ' You are an ass,' said Gustavo, in an- 
 swer to Oceanus's whisper. 
 
 " 'Who is an ass]' inquired the police- 
 man, fiercely. 
 
 " ' You !' said Gustave, ' and I will prove 
 the fact to your satisfaction,' he continued, 
 drawing a handful of franc pieces from his 
 breeches pocket, and quietly transferring 
 them into the unoccupied hand of the police- 
 man. ' Haven't I the air of a gentleman ]' 
 
 " ' You have the action of one,' said the 
 policeman, releasing the vanupied's coat. 
 
 " ' Will you do me the favour to go about 
 your business?' said the vanupied, drawing 
 a second handful of franc pieces from his 
 pocket. 
 
 " The policeman, who understood his 
 duty, raised his hat, bowed very politely, 
 received the second handful of franc pieces 
 very gratefully, and, thrusting his fingers 
 into the place where they came from, very 
 adroitly relieved the vanupied of what re- 
 mained of the proceeds of the day's exhi- 
 bition. 
 
 " Although Gustave was quite sobered by 
 the policeman's presence, yet he feigned 
 to be too drunk to observe that gentleman's 
 last act of kindness, and having waited un- 
 til he had put himself beyond ear-shot, he 
 took his revenge in a volley of sacres. let 
 off against the law generally, and its ad- 
 ministrators in particular, interspersed 
 with divers attempts to renew the "Mort 
 et convoi de Tinvincible Malbrough," which 
 as often failed for want of that spirit which 
 wine had given, and a knowledge of the 
 emptiness of his pockets had taken away. 
 
 " ' What an air of authority you put on 
 when talking to the policeman !' said Oce- 
 anus, in his simplicity, as the two friends 
 rolled themselves in a blanket upon the 
 floor of the show-room. Having discov- 
 ered the nature of that gentleman's office, 
 he was wondering at their deliverance out 
 of his hands. 
 
 " ' And what an effect it had !' said Gus- 
 tave. 
 
 " ' Marvellous !' said Oceanus. 
 
 " Gustave hummed a stanza of * Le Roi 
 d'YvetOt' — that most admirable political 
 satire upon the policy of the empire — and 
 fell asleep. 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 " The jolly sun rose laughing upon the 
 second morningof the show, as if refreshed, 
 and well content with his night's rest — the 
 tearful Aurora had proved kind. The new 
 affiches, in parti-coloured type, and nota 
 bene, ' 11 a une queue !' stared from every 
 corner upon the early risers of the city, 
 
 whetting appetite with merriment. Ocea- 
 nus and the vanupied were up betimes, and 
 as they looked out upon the growing day, 
 and saw the little knots of passers-by col- 
 lected at the crossings, talking, gesticula- 
 ting, their sides shaking with mirth, the 
 fumes of the previous night's debauch 
 passed away, or were forgotten in the 
 hope and certainty of expected gain. The 
 vanupied set the hall in order, while Ocea- 
 nus, who was too grateful not to acknowl- 
 edge both favours received and favours to- 
 come, drew John Bunyan from his pocket,, 
 and read a chapter against the vanity of 
 wealth. 
 
 " ' When you have done with your devo- 
 tions, I will thank you to dress in charac- 
 ter, and give me an opportunity to make 
 fast to your hinder parts this magnificent 
 tail,' said Gustave, holding up, for his- 
 friend's admiration, the handiwork of the- 
 perruquier, which a small boy had just de- 
 livered, with a polite request that he would- 
 return ten francs by the bearer. The little 
 boy. could not reasonably expect to get what 
 was- not to be had ; and as he was very im- 
 portunate, and said he must otherwise take 
 the tail back to his master, the vanupied 
 very properly kicked him out of doors, and,, 
 with a sangfroid peculiar to his constitu- 
 tion, proceeded to exhibit the article as al- 
 ready stated. 
 
 " ' We will first take a little breakfast : 
 very simple ; only a cup of coffee and a- 
 mutton-chop,' said Oceanus, closing Joha 
 Bunyan, and stroking down his stomach, 
 which felt all the more hungry for being- 
 over-stuffed the night before. 
 
 "'Breakfast!' exclaimed Gustave, who 
 had not a- sou in his pocket, and wished to- 
 conceal from his friend so suspicious a 
 fact. ' Breakfast ! One would have sup- 
 posed that you had eaten enough at the 
 restaurateur's to have kept you alive for a 
 twelvemonth. No, no; business before- 
 pleasure. It wants but fifteen minutes to 
 eight, and at eight we receive visiters ; so 
 come, my little wild man of the woods, 
 stand up, and let me attach to your rump 
 that most important member, which na- 
 ture, in her haste, forgot to give to the hu- 
 man family. So, tliere, ventre-bleu ! it 
 fits charmingly ! 'Sblood, but that Mon- 
 sieur Faussecheveleur is a genius !' 
 
 " ' Why did you kick the little boy who 
 brought it out of doors V inquired Oceanus, 
 quietly, while he contemplated with mucli 
 admiration the curious mechanism of his.' 
 new appendage, which was so constructed" 
 as to enable him to roll it up, and lash it 
 about from side to side at pleasure. 
 
 " ' Because he was impudent, and said 
 the franc pieces I gave him were counter- 
 feit,' said Gustave. 
 
 " Oceanus was satisfied with Gustave's 
 explanation of the motives which induced 
 him to hasten the little boy's retreat, and 
 
96 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 dressed himself for the show, silently re- 
 solving to give his appetite its revenge 
 ■when he next visited the establishment of 
 Monsieur Macaroni. 
 
 " Oceamis had resumed his former posi- 
 tion at the foot of the hall, and the vanu- 
 pied stood instructing him in the art of 
 moving his tail in a life-like manner, so as 
 to deceive the narrowest observer, when a 
 lady and two gentlemen entered, and walk- 
 ing warily down the room as if not well 
 assured of their safety, inquired if a young 
 American was to be exhibited there on that 
 day. The vanupied, before answering the 
 question, held out his hand, and receiving 
 three francs, very politely replied that he 
 had the inexpressible honour and distin- 
 guished satisfaction of introducing to an en- 
 lightened public the greatest natural curios- 
 ity of the known world ! Immediately upon 
 which speech, Oceanus, vvho, when he saw 
 the lady and gentlemen enter the hall, had 
 coiled up his tail nicely between his legs, 
 suddenly deployed the same after the most 
 "wonderful manner, throwing it about with 
 great vigour, first over the right shoulder 
 and then over the left, to the great aston- 
 ishment of the two gentlemen, and no 
 small terror of the lady. 
 
 "'Moft DieuP exclaimed mademoiselle, 
 recoiling a few steps, so as to place her- 
 self beyond the reach of so formidable an 
 instrument for attack, ' le farouche ! le 
 sauvage ! what a tail !' 
 
 " ' Don't be afraid, mademoiselle ; he 
 won't hurt you; he is quite tame, and is 
 chained,' said the vanupied, bowing and 
 rubbing his hands with glee. Then turn- 
 ing to the two gentlemen, ' Now, that is 
 "what I call a tail !' said he, in a tone of tri- 
 umph — ' such as no animal, except the na- 
 tive American of the great Democratic Re- 
 public, can produce !' 
 
 " The two gentlemen were somewhat 
 incredulous, and asked permission to ex- 
 amine more clo.^oly, and by touch, so 
 strange an appendage of the human form ; 
 but Oceanus beginning to look fierce, and 
 shake his chain, and growl a little, and 
 the lady objecting to the experiment, ex- 
 pressing much fear lest the tail might have 
 a sting in it, while the vanupied said that 
 lie would not be answerable for the conse- 
 <}uences, they were content to remove a 
 little farther off, and look at the monster 
 through an opera-glass. 
 
 " The curious now poured in, and the 
 vanupied was too busily engaged in the 
 pleasurable occupation of receiving franc 
 pieces to respond to the many inquiries of 
 those whose inquisitiveness was of that 
 kind which usually destroys its possessor's 
 happiness. All that is beautiful in imagin- 
 ation, all the creations of fancy, the myri- 
 ads of joyous spirits which of old peopled 
 the air, the earth, and the water, have dis- 
 appeared, or are fast disappearing, before 
 
 the rude attacks of advancing knowledge ; 
 and hiiving destroyed the source of more 
 than half of our intellectual enjoyments, 
 we live in a matter-of-fact world, the re- 
 cipients of matter-of-fact pleasures, be- 
 cause we are unwilling to live deceived 
 where wisdom is foolishness. 
 
 " One wished to know if the Americans 
 could talk, while another assured the look- 
 ers-on that we were quite an intelligent 
 people, considering that we lived entirely 
 on one side of the world ; and that it was 
 our dexterity in the use of the remarkable 
 limb which excited their astonishment that 
 carried us triumphantly through the Revo- 
 lution. A miss, of some fourteen years, 
 and great simplicity of manners, asked 
 if the American ladies also had tails ; and 
 a very promising youth, of about the same 
 age, vvho knew everything, replied that he 
 rather suspected they had. Many other 
 similar questions were asked, and answers 
 given, which discovered no small degree 
 of intelligence, and were no otherwise dis- 
 agreeable, excepting that they compelled 
 Oceanus to carry his tail in his mouth for 
 many minutes together to stifle laughter. 
 While the good people of Le Havre were 
 thus showing themselves to be possessed 
 of that accuracy of information touching 
 the great Democratic Republic which dis- 
 tinguishes Europeans in general, a gentle- 
 man of colour entered the hall, thereby 
 proving that a love of knowledge is com- 
 patible with a black skin. The vanupied 
 smacked his lips when he received the 
 gentleman of colours franc piece, for he 
 believed that Oceanus was too quick-wit- 
 ted to let such an opportunity to prove at 
 least one of the truths set forth in their 
 affiche pass unimproved ; and he was not de- 
 ceived in his estimate of his friend's parts. 
 
 " No sooner had Oceanus put his eyes 
 upon the black gentleman than a sudden 
 change swept over his countenance and 
 seized upon his whole frame. Amenity 
 of manners, and a seeming mildness of 
 disposition, were exchanged for the feroci- 
 ty of the bull-dog. He growled, stamped, 
 rattled his chain, and made, apparently, 
 the most violent efforts to break from the 
 staple to which he was fastened. The 
 good people of Le Havre there present, 
 not discerning the exciting cause of the 
 monster's rage, were panic-struck, and, 
 retreating towards the entrance of the hall, 
 called upon the vanupied to quiet their 
 fears. The black gentleman, whose curi- 
 osity was as yet fresh and unabated, look- 
 ing upon Oceanus's activity as a part of 
 the show, retained his position, and now 
 stood in advance of the whole company. 
 The vanupied drew an affiche from his 
 pocket, and reading aloud the passage, ' II 
 ne mange que des negres vivants et du ta- 
 bac,' pointed to the black gentleman. The 
 whole company simultaneously rushed for- 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 97 
 
 ward to his rescue. The ladies — God bless 
 them, they are always before us in deeds 
 of charity — were the first to lay hold of 
 him. The black gentleman remonstrated ; 
 he had been in America, had seen some- 
 thing of slavery, and knew better. Ocea- 
 nus growled ; the women, if they had not 
 been in America, and had seen nothing of 
 slavery, had read horrid tales of its abuses, 
 ^nd were vociferous ; the men, acting in 
 -the cause of humanity, which looked both 
 ways, and did not permit them to forget 
 self, seized their victim by the shoulders 
 and pitched him into the street ; while the 
 -vanupied said he was very sorry, but, in- 
 deed, he did not observe the gentleman 
 when he came in, or he should have pre- 
 vented so untoward an accident ; asked a 
 thousand pardons, and requested a poor 
 devil present, connected with the press, to 
 give an account of the affair in his morn- 
 ing paper, as a warning to such respectable 
 •coloured gentlemen as might happen to be 
 then in the city. 
 
 " Oceanus had not yet laid aside his fe- 
 rocity, and his visiters were still talking 
 of the unfortunate black, saved by their 
 disinterested benevolence from an unnatu- 
 ral grave, when one entered whose franc 
 piece the vanupied received with many 
 misgivings. The new-comer carried a 
 large store of mischief in the corner of his 
 eye, and a large roll of tobacco under his 
 arm. It was the old gentleman with a 
 cane, who had poked fun at Oceanus the 
 day before by poking his stick most un- 
 mercifully into his ribs. To the vanupied 
 the heavens looked lowering ; he expected 
 a squall, and followed close at the old gen- 
 tleman's heels, prepared with ready wit to 
 parry any thrust which he might make at 
 the vitality of the exhibition. It was a loss 
 to the vanupied ; for many came in, and 
 finding no one at the door to receive their 
 franc pieces, very honestly returned the 
 money to their pockets, and said no more 
 about it. The old gen^eman made his 
 way through the spec tat *-s, who stretched 
 dense across the centre of the hall, and, 
 although warned by many friendly voices, 
 among which that of the vanupied was not 
 the least earnest, of the danger to which 
 he exposed himself, considering the mon- 
 ster's present appetite for blood, he walk- 
 ed deliberately onward, with the bundle of 
 tobacco under his arm, as if determined to 
 test still farther the truth of the cited pas- 
 sage of the affiche, ' II ne mange que des 
 negres vivants, et du tabac' 
 
 " Oceanus recognised his old enemy at a 
 fiance ; and as it is ever the best policy to 
 .forestall attack by carrying the war at 
 «nce into Africa, he did not wait a renew- 
 al of the old gentleman's tricks, but, when 
 he found him within reach of his tail, gave 
 him so smart a blow over the right ear 
 with that instrument, that he spun round 
 N 
 
 like a top, and ended with dancing a horn- 
 pipe, much after the lively manner of his 
 younger days, and to the infinite diversion 
 of the lookers-on, all of whom were well 
 pleased to see their warnings thus summa- 
 rily verified. The vanupied approached 
 the old gentleman, asking a thousand par- 
 dons, and endeavoured to lead him away; 
 but the old gentleman's nose was not made 
 of wax ; a visitant of the day before, he 
 had not been induced to make a second 
 call by the remarkable fact set forth in the 
 nota bene of the second affiche, which, in- 
 deed, he had not read, but he wished quiet- 
 ly to expose an imposture to wliich the ig- 
 norance and prejudices of his fellow-citi- 
 zens alone gave vogue. The blow which 
 he had received, together with the instru- 
 ment with which it was given, went far to 
 unsettle the old gentleman's skepticism — 
 an effect which was not a little aided by 
 the cat-like manner in which Oceanus cel- 
 ebrated his victory — swinging his tail from 
 side to side, curling it about his body, and 
 waving it above his head with an air of 
 triumph, which spoke eloquently in favour 
 of its genuineness. But the old gentle- 
 man, willing to examine farther before 
 parting with his doubts, and scrutinizing 
 the object of his surprise for a moment in 
 silence, ' Est il possible !' he exclaimed, 
 turning to the vanupied; 'did that tail 
 grow out in one night !' 
 
 " The vanupied assured him that Ocea- 
 nus was born with it. 
 
 " The old gentleman remonstrated, as- 
 serting that, on the day before, the monster 
 was not possessed of so curious an ap- 
 pendage. 
 
 " The vanupied appealed to the company 
 present to contradict the old gentleman's 
 calumnies ; and as not one of them had 
 seen Oceanus before, they all agreed that 
 the old gentleman was in error. ' It is 
 more than probable,' said the vanupied, 
 ' that the monster carried his tail between 
 his legs when you first visited him.' Oce- 
 anus took the hint, and coiling the mem- 
 ber up, packed it away very nicely out of 
 sight. The company gave a shout of ap- 
 plause, and the vanupied smiled compla- 
 cently upon the old gentleman, as much 
 as to say, ' Go on, old quiz, I am secure of 
 the victory!' 
 
 " ' Will you do us tlie favour to feed 
 your beast r said the old gentleman, gath- 
 ering up the tobacco, wliich had been wide- 
 ly scattered over the floor in the scene of 
 the hornpipe. 
 
 " ' With great pleasure ; yet at such 
 times vivid recollections of home are ex- 
 cited, and he is apt to be rather wild and 
 unmanageable !' said tlie vanupied, with an 
 appealing look at the women. 
 
 '• But the desire to see the monster eat 
 overcame the fears of the tender sex, and 
 the vanupied was compelled to trust to his 
 
98 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 companion's wit to evade the snare which 
 the old gentleman had so cunningly devi- 
 sed. Oceanus was not wanting in strate- 
 gy ; he seized with avidity the first leaf 
 presented for his consideration by the va- 
 nupied, scented it, turned up his nose at it, 
 tasted it, ejected the contents of his mouth, 
 and ended with throwing it under his feet, 
 and trampling on it with great rage. 
 
 " ' This tobacco is very much damaged !' 
 said the vanupicd to the old gentleman ; 
 ' do you wish to poison my animal by giv- 
 ing him a rotten weed V 
 
 " The company all agreed that the to- 
 bacco was in a very damaged condition, 
 and much admired the wonderful sagacity 
 which had enabled the monster to detect 
 the fraud. 
 
 " ' Give the monster another leaf ; it may 
 prove better!' said the old gentleman. 
 
 " Oceanus received the second as he had 
 received the first ; but, in his anxiety to 
 exhibit a degree of fury which would deter 
 a third trial of the strength of a stomach 
 which began already to feel somewhat 
 squeamish, his tail uncoiled itself, and lay 
 extended upon the floor of the hall, mo- 
 tionless, like a snake gorged with food. 
 The old gentleman noticed the tail's expo- 
 sed situation, and, without being observed 
 either by the vanupied or by Oceanus, ad- 
 vanced a step, and planted his foot upon 
 the end of it. 'The second leaf appears 
 to be as bad as the first!' said the old gen- 
 tleman, throwing his whole weight upon 
 that foot which rested on the tail, and grin- 
 ning, winking, and blinking at the compa- 
 ny, who were much surprised to see tliat 
 the monster did not resent such a liberty 
 taken with the most important part of his 
 person. 
 
 '•'Give him a third leaf; tobacco is an 
 excellent narcotic and blunter of the feel- 
 ings !' said the old gentleman, dancing up 
 and down, while the tail cracked bene;ith 
 his step, as if it," indeed, possessed bones 
 to be broken. 
 
 " The company laughed. The vanupied, 
 discernmg the cause of their merriment, 
 turned pale with fear, then red with rage, 
 while Oceanus, still ignorant of the fate 
 which impended over him, played the wild 
 monster with pantomimic grace. The com- 
 pany were about to go over to the old gen- 
 tleman and declare openly in his favour, 
 when the miss of some fourteen years, and 
 great simplicity of maimers, who had read 
 Cooper's novels through the medium of a 
 translation, said ' that she was now con- 
 vinced the monster was a genuine speci- 
 men of tlie American citizen, for that all 
 who have written upon the subject assert 
 that the Americans are long-suffering, and 
 wonderfully patient of corporeal torment!' 
 Tliis remark turned the tide of opinion back 
 to its former channel. The old gentleman 
 was requested, in a very rough manner, to 
 
 keep his feet at home, and told that he 
 would be expected to foot the physician's 
 bill, inasmuch as the monster's tail appear- 
 ed to be so greatly injured as to render it 
 impossible for him to coil it up and stow it 
 away in its proper place. Its mechanism 
 was indeed destroyed, so that Oceanus 
 had no longer absolute command over its 
 movements ; yet the vanupied triumphed, 
 and was about to resume his station at the 
 entrance of the hall, when his steps were 
 arrested by a small piping voice, which 
 was more to be feared than all the sly in- 
 sinuations and systematic attacks of his 
 implacable enemy, the old gentleman with 
 the cane. The perruquier's little appren- 
 tice, whom the vanupied had kicked into 
 the street just before opening his show in 
 the morning, was not wanting in that per- 
 severance which distinguishes a French 
 dun, and finding, upon his return, the en- 
 trance clear, he had slipped in and quietly 
 taken a position in the crowd, just behind 
 the old gentleman. He had been an atten- 
 tive listener to all that was said, and an at- 
 tentive observer of all that passed between 
 the vanupied and his antagonist, and when 
 the former turned upon his heel, snapping 
 his fingers in the exultation of success, he 
 concluded that it was the fittest occasion 
 for him to speak, and advancing a step or 
 two in front of the company, he looked up 
 into the vanupied's face, crying out, at the 
 top of his lungs, 'Master says if you don't 
 send him them ten francs for that tail, toute 
 suite, he will send a lawyer after you — 
 that he will!' 
 
 " The vanupied boiled with rage ; Ocea- 
 nus turned pale ; the company looked sur- 
 prised ; the little apprentice trembled in his 
 shoes ; the old gentleman's eyes twinkled. 
 
 " ' What tail, my little fellow V said the 
 old gentleman, in a tone of encouragement. 
 
 " ' Th-the t-tail th-that the sh-shovT 
 wears,' stammered out the little apprentice. 
 
 "The old gentleman sprang forward, 
 seized the tail with both hands, and with 
 one jerk cleared it from the monster's pos- 
 teriors. The company gave a shout, and 
 rushed upon the impostors. The men 
 cursed, the women shrieked, and the vanu- 
 pied, owing to his skill in ground and lofty 
 tumbling, and long exercise in threading 
 blind alleys, and dodging round sharp cor- 
 ners, found his way unscathed to the door, 
 and passed into the street, taking with him 
 all the franc pieces he had received : an 
 act of forgetfulness which must be attrib- 
 uted to the hurry of his departure. 
 
 " Oceaims was less fortunate. His pow- 
 ers of locomotion were paralyzed by the 
 sudden turn which events had taken ; 
 crushing to earth his growing hopes of 
 wealth, and adding to poverty the shame 
 of detected imposition. The men fell upon 
 him ; the old gentleman repaid the tap 
 over the ear which he had received, with 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 Si&" 
 
 ttiany a thwack of the tail which had given 
 It ; every one bestowed upon him at least 
 one blow and a kick, while none were so 
 liberal of such favours as those who had 
 been doubly disappointed by paying no fee 
 at the entrance. The poor boy was finally 
 thrust out of doors, soundly belaboured, 
 bruised in every limb, bellowing with pain, 
 nis dress hanging in tatters about his per- 
 son, and his pockets none the heavier for 
 nis temporary success in this his second 
 speculation. A mob gathered routld the 
 hall, all eager to learn the news ; all talked, 
 and none listened ; they swayed to and fro, 
 hustled each other about, and gave the 
 young scape-grace an opportunity to draw 
 oft' unnoticed. 
 
 '• Oceanus fled — where ! Whither should 
 he fly, but to his element ? The salt sea 
 would heal his wounds, collect his scattered 
 thoughts, and aid in forming a plan for fu- 
 ture action ; so he ran down to the harbour, 
 stripped, and plunged in. When he touched 
 the water, hope revived, and joy came back 
 and nestled in his bosom. As a spoiled 
 child, who has quarrelled with his play- 
 mates, seeks his mother's lap and finds 
 elysium in her fond caresses, so Oceanus 
 was happy again, and rolled, and tumbled, 
 and stretched himself out in the lap of the 
 sea, until he laughed from very pleasure, 
 ■forgot his late evils, and looked only at 
 the future, which, to the young, is always 
 oright. 
 
 '• The game which he had played was 
 lost ; it was dishonest, and therefore well 
 lost. Oceanus is not of an evil temper ; 
 he has less of Adam's sin about him than 
 any boy I ever met with. He conceived 
 and executed the scheme of the show un- 
 der the pressure of want ; and want often 
 compels a good man to do many bad things. 
 Oceanus had received the wages of vice, 
 and he resolved to work no longer for such 
 a paymaster. But he must do something, 
 or starve. There he was, a second time 
 immersed in the waters of the harbour, as 
 poor and much less whole of skin than 
 when he first resorted to them for conso- 
 lation and reflection. He feared to remain 
 in Le Havre — how was he to get out of it 1 
 Le Havre is largely engaged in the whale- 
 fisheries. It is a place of oil, and many 
 staves are annually shipped from this city 
 for that market, where they are manufac- 
 tured into casks. Two ships — whalers — 
 AVere in port, ready fitted for sea ; with a 
 fair wind, they were to leave on the mor- 
 row. Oceanus was more than two thirds 
 inclined to put his name upon the rule 
 d'equipage of one of them, but recollecting 
 that, soon after his arrival in Le Havre, he 
 Was present when their owners purchased 
 a cargo of staves, counting one hundred 
 and twenty for a hundred, he concluded 
 that a busine/is which admitted of sucii a 
 reckoning was not the most honest that a 
 
 man might be engaged in. Paris ! He 
 had heard much of Paris while at Le Ha- 
 vre ; Paris, he had been told, was France : 
 what could he not do if once in that city 
 of all the people of the earth ? London is 
 England, Madrid is Spain, but Paris is 
 more than France ; all languages are spo- 
 ken in its streets, all nations are repre- 
 sented in its population, and Oceanus could 
 not do better, in his own mind, than add 
 one to its thousands. He resolved to hunt 
 up the vanupied, demand his share of the 
 show's receipts, take a diligence, and drive 
 to Paris. Poor Oceanus, he was not yet 
 sufficiently a moralist to understand that 
 the reception of the wages of sin is as 
 criminal as the act which earns them. 
 He left the water, put on his tattered 
 clothes, and went in search of the vanu- 
 pied. The vanupied sat counting his franc 
 pieces upon the little stone step, deep 
 within the retired and dark alley to which 
 Oceanus had led him when he first made 
 known to that worthy confident, counsel- 
 lor, and abettor, his project of the show. 
 There he was found by Oceanus, after a 
 weary search through many of the other 
 by-places of the city, still counting and re- 
 counting his franc pieces. Oceanus raa 
 towards his friend with a shout of recog- 
 nition, and a hearty ' How are ye, Gustave 1' 
 The vanupied hastily gathered up • his 
 franc pieces, and thrust them into hiS' 
 pocket. Oceanus extended his hand, with' 
 congratulations upon their mutual escape. 
 The vanupied rose slowly from his seat, 
 and, examining the tattered Oceanus from 
 head to foot, remarked, ' that he had no^ 
 recollection of ever having seen him be-' 
 fore !' Oceanus stood mute with aston- 
 ishment. The vanupied commenced whis- 
 tling the ' Mort et convoi de I'invincible 
 Malbrough.' ' What !' exclaimed Oceanus, 
 recovering his voice, ' you will not cheat 
 me out of my share of the spoils V The 
 vanupied coolly knocked him down, and- 
 walked away. 
 
 " Oceanus got up, concluded that friend- 
 ship is sometimes a synonyme of self-in- 
 terest, relinquished his idea of travelling to 
 Paris in the diligence, walked down to the 
 Seine, and bartered with one of the many 
 little coches which ply upon that river, for' 
 his carriage to the capital, in exchange for- 
 his labour at the oar." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 OCEANUS IN PARIS. 
 The Leprous Infections of Paris. 
 " This part of the country was much more civil- 
 ized, and it maybe presumed that vice had kept pace 
 with civilization." — Quarterly Review. 
 
 * ARGUMENT. 
 
 Paris. — Oceanus's arrival in that City. — Oceanus at 
 a Loss. — The Brunette. — Oceanus in Love — Oce- 
 anus enters into Service. — Oceanus transformed. 
 
100 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 — Oceanus incurs the Displeasure of his Mistress. 
 — Oceanus in the Hands of the Police.-^Jacques, 
 the Spruce-looking young Gentleman. — Jacques 
 at his Rooms. — Jacques's Address upon Wealth. — 
 Jasmin. — Jacques and Oceanus's Plan for acqui- 
 ring Riches. — Trouve. — The Affiche. — Jacques 
 dismisses Oceanus. — Paul de Kock. — Oceanus be- 
 comes the Protege of Paul. — Fenelon. — Oceanus 
 reads the French Classics. — Balzac. — Oceanus re- 
 solves to return to his Uncle. — He takes Leave of 
 Paul. — He ships for New Orleans. 
 
 SECTION IX. 
 
 The shadows of the evening had closed 
 imperceptibly around us. The lawyer had 
 talked well, accompanying his story with 
 a sort of running commentary upon the 
 text ; the doctor and myself had listened 
 ■well, and we had all drank well of good 
 wine. But the wine was of one kind only ; 
 and good wine, unmixed, will hurt no one. 
 
 The lawyer proposed that we should 
 rise from the table, saying that he would 
 give us the remainder of Oceanus's history 
 at another time. 
 
 " No time like the present, when you 
 are in the humour for story-telling, and we 
 are in the humour for listening," said the 
 doctor, pushing the bottle towards his 
 friend. 
 
 If I could give the lawyer's manner, his 
 acting, as I have given his words, the read- 
 er would not be surprised that I should 
 have joined the doctor in his request, and 
 asked for an immediate continuance of the 
 story. 
 
 The doctor ordered lights, coffee, and ci- 
 gars ; the lawyer could not complain of 
 his audience, and resumed his narrative of 
 the adventures of young Oceanus after his 
 own way, with an apostrophe to Paris, in- 
 terspersed with observations, which ap- 
 peared to be more particularly addressed 
 to the doctor and myself. 
 
 " Paris !" said the lawyer ; " and what 
 could Oceanus do in Paris ? What could 
 he do but take new lessons in vice 1 Vice, 
 more artificial i.; its appearances, more re- 
 fined, and therefore more seductive. Par- 
 is is the world. In it are to be found ab- 
 ject want and bloated superfluity ; utter 
 barbarism and the most perfect civiliza- 
 tion ; universal skepticism, which blots out 
 God, the living principle of all things, and 
 the blindest superstition, which makes a 
 God of nothing ; all in the extreme, and 
 all equally removed from that point of rest 
 which the Creator fixed in the beginning, 
 when he made man the recipient equally 
 of sensual and of intellectual pleasures, and 
 gave to neither the ascendency. There 
 goodness is to be foinid almost pure and 
 unmixed; and wickedness, also, almost 
 pure and unmixed, with every grade which 
 shades the two into each other. There 
 may be found the chastity of Lucretia and 
 the prostitution of Theodora— faugh ! mor- 
 tality in the charnel-house is less repulsive 
 than the chamelles of its suburbs. In Par- 
 
 is the philosopher is a sensualist, and the 
 sensualist is a philosopher. The intellect 
 of the philosopher is blinded by its own 
 brilliancy, and after groping about for a 
 time in the upper air, descends to the earth 
 and grapples with matter. The sensualist 
 is a philosopher from refinement, from ad- 
 vance in knowledge, from the same causes 
 which have made the cooks of Paris chem- 
 ists, and the tailors, and hatters, and shoe- 
 makers of Paris artists— and the sensual- 
 ist is a gainer by his philosophy. He lives 
 longer, husbands his health, husbands his 
 sources of enjoyment, and therefore en- 
 joys more. He has reduced pleasure to a 
 system — does not destroy by overtasking 
 its instruments ; is not a debauchee in 
 wine, nor in women, nor in anything. He 
 does not gorge himself with meat, like an 
 Englishman, nor with drink, like a German, 
 that both his intellectual and physical pow- 
 ers may lie torpid for a season, anaconda- 
 like, never again to recover their former 
 strength, nor their former delicacy of per- 
 ception — he knows better. The sensual- 
 ist of Paris has gained by philosophy, and 
 the philosopher of Paris has lost by sensu- 
 ality — I might say sensualism, coining a 
 word for a new science — and in that 
 way, like two farmers driving a bargain, 
 they have chalked up to each other. In 
 Paris, the influence of philosophy — French 
 philosophy, tlie philosophy of Voltaire, 
 Condorcet, Diderot, the philosophy of the 
 Encyclopaedists, which, like paint cast 
 into living water, has flowed down and 
 tainted the stream to our time — is to be 
 detected in the every-day affairs of life. 
 If the trades are affected by it, so is the 
 domestic circle, and the thousand relations 
 springing from social intercourse. If it 
 shapes the public morals, so does it the 
 private : the wife makes it the test of the 
 duties she owes her husband, and the maid 
 of the purity of her chastity. What pol- 
 lutes the body does not pollute the mind, 
 is the first and most false of its maxims. 
 It stains French literature. The cultiva- 
 ted are affected by it, and know it ; the ig- 
 norant are affected by it through the culti- 
 vated, and do not know it. Like a part of 
 the air, it pervades all things, and pene- 
 trates all things : the most spotless ermine 
 upon the bench, and the vilest pad in the 
 city's kennels. It dims virtue, and renders 
 vice more brazen. Such is Paris ! hollow 
 and rotten in all its ramifications — as hoi 
 low and as rotten as civilization must ever 
 be when pleasure, intellectual and seiisual, 
 is the sole object of its pursuits. 
 
 " And what could Oceanus do in Paris \ 
 There are not many of the wise, nor many 
 of the virtuous, who visit that city and 
 leave it without taint. A boy of thirteen 
 years, in want, alone, and unprotected, 
 may be said to have done well if he es- 
 l caped a moral death. After a voyage of 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 101 
 
 five days, in the course of which he neces- 
 sarily passed Rouen, he arrived at the 
 great heart of the world just as night had 
 settled down upon it. No sooner did his 
 foot touch the stone steps near the Marche- 
 au-fleur than he bid adieu to the master 
 and his fellow-labourers of tbe coche. He 
 owed them nothing, for he had toiled at 
 the oar for his passage. He might have 
 rested with his late companions for the 
 night, but he was young, and youth loves 
 liberty, and youth is brave, never more so 
 than when thrown upon its own resources. 
 Besides, Oceanus, in the course of his voy- 
 age upon the Seine, gave in sundry times 
 to instinct, leaped into the water, passed 
 under the boat, sprang aboard, and resumed 
 his position at the oar, with all the sang- 
 froid of an old sailor drinking his accus- 
 tomed allowance of grog ; an evolution 
 which, although it gave him pleasure, 
 roused his spirits, and secured health, filled 
 his companions first with anxiety for his 
 safety, then with wonder, and at last with 
 superstition ; so that they both hated and 
 feared him as something supernatural : a 
 doubt which the captain very worthily en- 
 deavoured to remove by an active disci- 
 pline, enforced in the shape of cuffs applied 
 to the boy's ears, and kicks pointedly ad- 
 dressed to the region of his hinder parts. 
 At Rouen, too, where the coche halted for 
 a few hours, Oceanus was desirous of re- 
 plenishing his pockets by an exhibition 
 similar to that which he had given in the 
 port of Le Havre, a proposition which the 
 master answered with one of his knock- 
 down arguments, logically enforced upon 
 the poor youth's scull. We need not won- 
 der, then, that the boy, though moneyless 
 and hungry, was willing to leave such 
 friends at the stone steps near the Marche- 
 au-fleur, and of two evils, choose the most 
 uncertain. 
 
 " Oceanus was now in the city which he 
 had sought for the same reason that a 
 moth seeks the candle ; and it was no fault 
 of his if he left it without being pretty well 
 scorched. If misfortunes try the mind as 
 fire tries gold, his must be something more 
 than twenty-two carats fine. The streets 
 were full of life and bustle, the shops well 
 lighted, and novelty, in its most brilliant 
 shapes, so engrossed his attention as to 
 stifle, for a time, all consciousness of his 
 real condition : a solitary wanderer in the 
 midst of a desert. He walked on, gazing 
 about on every side ; the faces around 
 were happy, or seemed to be so ; all talk- 
 ed, joyously and loud, mostly in French, 
 but every language had its representative. 
 A thrill of pleasure passed through and 
 possessed his nerves ; he thought not of 
 the morrow — sufficient unto the day is the 
 evil thereof— he thought not of the night, 
 for hunger and weariness were subdued by 
 a stronger feeling, and to his young ima- 
 
 gination so much of beauty, though it flow- 
 ed in a thousand streams, could not pass 
 away in a few hours. He walked on, turn- 
 ing to the right and left, and threading 
 many a street as chance led him, or a pret- 
 ty face, or a loud voice, or a petty broil, 
 beckoned to him, till the lights began to 
 grow dim, the ways more clear, the pas- 
 sengers more hurried in their steps, and 
 the guardians of the night more circum- 
 spect in their investigations. The patient 
 will live while the fever is on him, but 
 when it leaves him, he often sinks for 
 want of excitement. Curiosity requires its 
 aliment, and darkness and loneliness are 
 not its best food ; so Oceanus found it, and 
 when curiosity left him, hunger and wea- 
 riness returned. 
 
 " He sat himself down upon a small step 
 near the corridor or grand entrance of one 
 of those large hotels which disfigure Paris, 
 and serve, not as the homes — a Parisian 
 knows not what home is — but as the ken- 
 nels of one half of its population. There, 
 the rich and the poor enter, as they enter 
 the world, through the same gate ; and are 
 distinguished from each other by the floors 
 they occupy. The poor mount highest, 
 reversing, in that respect, the ordinary 
 etiquette of societj% and assuming in this 
 world that position which has been prom- 
 ised to them as an heritage hereafter. 
 
 " Reflection now came to him, and sat 
 down at his side. What was he to do in 
 Paris? He could not answer that ques- 
 tion. Why was he there 1 Because he 
 had deserted his ship ; and he deserted his 
 ship from false shame. It was something 
 to know the origin of the evils which had 
 overtaken him ; but pride would not per- 
 mit him to retrace his steps ; so, like a 
 mule, which, when it has put one foot into 
 the mire, will never draw back until it has 
 brought the other three into the same pre- 
 dicament, he resolved to bring his nose 
 still nearer to the grindstone. A lamp 
 hung from the arch at the entrance or 
 grand passage-way of the hotel, and Oce- 
 anus drew ' Tom Jones' from his pocket, 
 and ran over its pages as a mariner runs 
 over his chart ; he was lost upon land, and 
 sought in that rich store-house of worldly 
 maxims rules of conduct which should pi- 
 lot him safely over the unknown ground 
 he was treading. But when the heart is 
 heavy, the wisdom of this world is foolish- 
 ness ; so he soon put aside ' Tom Jones,^ 
 and opening the New Testament, read the 
 parable of the prodigal son. The applica- 
 tion was not difficult, and Oceanus burst 
 into tears. Is it not strange that when a 
 good angel is whispering at one ear, the 
 devil should be whispering at the other? 
 Oceanus sprang to his feet ; he would seek 
 the stone steps near the Marche-au-fl<^ur, 
 return in the coche, with his late hard 
 master, to Le Havre, and ship for the near- 
 
102 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 est home port, repentant for the past, and 
 resolved to do better in the future. ' My 
 uncle will fors^ive me,' said he, as he put his 
 right foot forward. ' And who is your un- 
 cle, paiivre gar^on ■?' inquired a pretty bru- 
 nette of some sixteen summers, with a full, 
 ■well-turned figure, jauntily set off by a toi- 
 let which discovered taste, a small, round, 
 plump face, and large gazelle eyes that 
 sparkled in the light of the lamp, and seem- 
 ed to give back more of brilliancy than 
 they borrowed. Oceanus's good resolu- 
 tions passed away as they came ; the off- 
 spring of emotion, they died with the feel- 
 ing which created them. ' Who is your 
 uncle, mon cher petit amil' repeated the 
 pretty brunette, who had approached Oce- 
 anus unobserved, and now stood directly 
 before him, blocking his way, and looking 
 full into the boy's face. Oceanus looked 
 modestly down upon the pavement, made 
 hieroglyphics with the toe of his shoe, and 
 answered the question. 
 
 " ' And what brought you over so many 
 jniles of water to Paris ?' asked the brunette. 
 " Oceanus looked into the brunette's 
 «yes, and saw something there more than 
 pity ; a thread of fire ran rapidly along 
 through all his limbs, while the blood 
 mounted to his temples, and his heart beat 
 so irregularly and so violently as nearly 
 to deprive him of utterance. To him it was 
 a new sensation ; he did not understand it ; 
 it was enough, that under its influence he 
 forgot everything but the beautiful object 
 before him, and lost every anxiety except 
 the fear lest that object might leave him. 
 He had entered upon a new existence. 
 He felt, yet was ignorant of the nature of 
 the change. He dashed asi ie his tears, 
 "was ashamed of his late weakness, and 
 assumed the front of courage ; for love 
 inspires a courage equal to any evil. He 
 became reconciled to himself, to every 
 one ; even his last master of the coche he 
 no longer hated, for love is wondrous kind. 
 Love is the creative spirit, ever fresh, and 
 ever young ; always beginning, never end- 
 ing ; antagonistical, yet most harmonious ; 
 Protean, yet always the same ; weak, yet 
 stronger than the angels which surround 
 the throne. What water is to the diamond, 
 love is to the soul : it gives to it its purity, 
 brilliancy, worth. Oceanus took the pretty 
 brunette's liand in his, and asked her to sit 
 down with him upon the step, and he would 
 tell her the whole of his story. The pretty 
 brunette smiled at the boy's simplicity, and 
 said it was too cool to remain in the open 
 air, and that she was weary and hungry. 
 * I have not had supper ; have you, mon 
 pauvre gargonV Oceanus shoidd have 
 been hungry also ; he had been long enough 
 ■without eating ; he certainly was so before 
 a stronger feeling had taken possession of 
 his breast, and he answered in the negative. 
 The pretty brunette said he should mount 
 
 to her chamber — it was upon the fifth floor 
 of the hotel before which they were stand- 
 ing — and sup with her. How could he re- 
 fuse ? He held her hand in his ; it was a 
 small, plump, soft hand ; and when she 
 moved, he would not have loosed his hold 
 for the world : so she drew him after her, 
 as with a silken cord, up four flights of 
 stairs, into tiie neat, airy apartment she 
 occupied. 
 
 " The room had two small dormitories 
 attached to it, both of which the brunette 
 threw open, in order to show Oceanus how 
 comfortably she lived. One was applied 
 to its proper use, and contained a low 
 French bedstead, an armour, a mirror, a 
 dressing-table, queer-looking chairs which 
 might be turned into many shapes, together 
 with whatever else would be looked for in 
 a small but luxuriously furnished sleeping 
 apartment ; the other was well stocked 
 with the furniture and the dainties of the 
 table, and was at one and the same time 
 both kitchen and pantry, while it served 
 occasionally as a wine-house, and was not 
 unfrequently the refuge of an intriguant. 
 
 " The brunette soon covered a small 
 round table — it was made for two — which 
 stood in the centre of the larger chamber, 
 with good substantial food, in the shape of 
 a cold boiled chicken, a ham which had 
 not been more than twice cut, two loaves 
 of bread, and two bottles of claret. Ocea- 
 nus sat down opposite to his young hostess, 
 and she did the honours of her table with 
 a generous hand. Oceanus's appetite re- 
 turned with remarkable strength, and he 
 ate faster, and longer, and consequently 
 more than one could well have expected 
 of a boy of his age. The truth is, love is 
 a great whetter of the stomach. At the 
 first onset it almost annihilates hunger, but 
 when it has gained a lodgement in the 
 breast, and feels secure, and is quiet, it re- 
 quires to be well fed. This is a physiolo- 
 gical fact ; and if you do not know it, I do. 
 The pretty brunette praised the boy's mas- 
 ticatory powers, and having herself drank 
 a bottle and a half of claret, while he drank 
 the other half, she expressed a willingness 
 to hear his story. When Oceanus had 
 ended his bit of autobiography, she return- 
 ed the compliment. Oceanus now felt 
 sleepy, and tlie brunette, who was a quick 
 observer, and had a good heart, proposed 
 that they should retire for the night ; a 
 proposition which may have sprung partly 
 from the fact that she had herself eaten a 
 great deal, as is the habit with tliose of her 
 way of life. Another physiological fact, 
 which if anj^ one doubts, he will find cor- 
 roborated in a most remarkable and meri- 
 torious book written by A. J. B. Parent- 
 Duchatelet, and entitled, ' De la Prostitu- 
 tion dans la Ville de Paris ;' a book which 
 should be translated into every language 
 of Europe, and put into the hands of every 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 103 
 
 mayor, alderman, or supervisor of police 
 of every city in Christendom. Parent- 
 Duchatelet sacrificed his life in the cause 
 of humanity ; and if a man's moral worth 
 is to be gauged by the degree of ameliora- 
 tion which his acts induce in the condition 
 of his fellow-men, his was not less than 
 Howard's. 
 
 " The kind brunette extended to Oceanus 
 more than the rites of hospitality ; he was 
 a lone orphan, lost in the world ; she pitied 
 his condition, and wished to give him shel- 
 ter. With the morning, Oceanus blushed 
 to see the rising sun, and the rising sun 
 blushed to see him ; but the pretty bru- 
 nette soon chased away shame, and resto- 
 red his good opinion of himself. 
 
 " The pretty brunette rose, and applied 
 herself to her toilet. Oceanus was, at first, 
 surprised to see her give so much of her 
 time to her mirror, her washes, and her 
 brushes ; but when she at last turned to 
 him, and showed upon his person the effi- 
 cacy of an art with which he was before 
 wholly unacquainted, he acknowledged 
 that her early hours could not have been 
 better employed. If we set aside the im- 
 mediate present physical and mental pleas- 
 ures of a quiet, unhurried toilet — pleasures 
 ■which spring from friction applied in a 
 thousand ways to the body, and pleasures 
 which spring from arrangement, and have 
 their seat in the mind — yet do we, by 
 means of it, so preserve health and pro- 
 long youth, that both vanity and length of 
 years are, with good reason, its advocates. 
 The face is much like a piece of steel, it 
 needs to be kept bright to wear. The cost 
 of false teeth will more than compensate 
 for the time expended in the preservation 
 of those which nature has given us, with- 
 out computing th^ multitude of diseases 
 we avoid by the possession of a clean 
 mouth. When the hair falls, and prema- 
 ture old age furrows the brow and cheeks, 
 we learn to appreciate an art whose influ- 
 ence is not confined to the material portion 
 of ourselves ; through the body it reaches 
 the intellect, purifies it, gives it strength ; 
 smooths the temper, and keeps it equable. 
 The pretty brunette was right ; many a 
 crude notion, and more than one half of 
 the immorality of society, spring from a 
 want of cleanliness of person ; the best 
 writings of the physicians tell us so — Hip- 
 pocrates tells us so, and so does Boerhaave. 
 The philosophic Cousin would do well to 
 take a lesson from the brunette. 
 
 " At the breakfast table the brunette ex- 
 plained to Oceanus the part which she 
 played in life ; a part which, had he been 
 bred in a large city, he might have easily 
 guessed at. She proposed to take him in- 
 to her service : a proposition which, had 
 he been bred in a large city, he would not 
 have hesitated to reject ; as it was, he be- 
 gan to suggest objections, and, in some 
 
 things, when we begin to suggest objec- 
 tions we fall. The brunette lihined an en- 
 ticing picture of what his hours would be 
 under her soft rule ; his own conscious- 
 ness of present destitution limned a repul- 
 sive one of what tliose hours would be if 
 he was to return to the step at the en- 
 trance of the hotel ; and he became her 
 servant. 
 
 " Oceanus's position was much like that 
 of the favourite slave of an Eastern despot, 
 and he filled as many oflices. He was 
 prime minister, secretary, manager of the 
 household, chief counsellor in intrigues, 
 pimp, caterer, chamberlain, valet, lackey, 
 boy of all work, and bosom friend. The 
 tailor cast his outward man anew, and few 
 would have recognised in the perfumed, 
 jaunty youth who stood behind the bru- 
 nette's chair when she supped with a lover, 
 or himself occupied the lover's place when 
 no one else was present to fill it, the am- 
 phibious protege of the old Tar of the Fife. 
 Oceanus had lived several weeks in this 
 way, giving great satisfaction to his mis- 
 tress, and enjoying an equal popularity 
 with her visiters, who found him very 
 handy in brushing their coats of a morn- 
 ing, and in performing those ten thousand 
 other little services which a man who 
 knows how to dress knows how to value 
 when one evening he happened to recol- 
 lect that, although he had discarded moral- 
 ity from his conduct, he still carried it in 
 his pocket. So, as the brunette was out, 
 and he had little else to do, he resumea 
 his somewhat long-neglected acquaintance 
 with old John Bunyan. He sat with the 
 book open upon his knees, his eyes fixed 
 upon one of those prints which, in most 
 editions, wonderfully elucidate the text, 
 when the brunette returned, and, observ- 
 ing the intentness with which he gazed 
 upon the picture, walked up quietly behind 
 him, and looked over his shoulder. The 
 brunette could not read lOnglish, but any 
 one can read a good print. The blood 
 mounted to her face. 
 
 " ' What love story are you reading, my 
 little prince of male beauties V asked the 
 brunette, coquettishly pinching his ears in 
 order to conceal her own emotion, and to 
 wheedle him into the antiquated virtue of 
 telling the truth. 
 
 " Oceanus's face was now also suff'used 
 with a ruddier tinge than ordinary, for he 
 had not wholly parted with shame ; and, 
 although honest, blunt John Bunyan might 
 have rejoiced to have found his book in a 
 brothel, and would not have despaired of a 
 proselyte, yet our hero has a natural apti- 
 tude for the fitness of things, and knows 
 when the laws of propriety are violated. 
 
 " ' It is no love story, but a copy of iha 
 Old Testament,' said Oceanus, closing the 
 book, and attempting to return it to his 
 pocket. 
 
104 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 " The brunette took it from his hands 
 and turned over its leaves in search of the 
 print which had fixed her attention. ' A 
 copy of the Old Testament ! And vi^hat is 
 the Old Testament V 
 
 " The brunette was a Catholic, and had 
 never read, perhaps never seen or heard of, 
 that book which, aside from its sanctity, is 
 a wondrous anomaly in literature. It has 
 ever been an enigma with me how Israel 
 could have given us the poetry of [saiah 
 and of David, the history of the two books 
 of the Kings, the Chronicles, and the Mac- 
 cabees, the Apothegms of Solomon, the 
 tales of Ruth and of Tobin — all showing ca- 
 pabilities for excellence in every class of 
 writing — and yet have given us no more. 
 Is Pindar more sublime than her prophets'? 
 Are the historians of Greece and of Rome 
 more graphic, better delineators of man- 
 ners, deeper investigators of character, or 
 better expositors of the springs of action 
 than Samuel? Is the philosophy of Soc- 
 rates and of Seneca superior in wisdom, 
 and in practical application, to the philos- 
 ophy of the builder of the Temple 1 Is the 
 verse of Simonides or of Euripides richer 
 in pathos than the story of Jacob? Yet 
 where else shall we look for Israelitish lit- 
 erature ? 
 
 " Oceanus related to the brunette all that 
 he knew about the Old Testament. 'It 
 was written in English, a long time ago, 
 by Mr. Bunyan,' said he, ' and has perhaps 
 never been translated. I am sorry y.ou 
 do not understand the language, for you 
 would like the story ; it is so full of won- 
 ders.' 
 
 " ' Aha !' exclaimed the brunette, in a 
 tone of voice which pierced the youth like 
 a two-edged sword — it was pitched upon 
 altissimo ; ' you are an English heretic, are 
 you ! and thrust the sacred Volume into 
 your greasy pockets as you would one of 
 the filthy novels of Pigault Le Brun? 
 Quel sacrilege ! And you defile, by actual 
 contact with your anathematized body, a 
 book which my confessor has told me is 
 too holy for me to look upon ! Quelle 
 profanation ! And now tell me, what is the 
 meaning of this picture, you little, miser- 
 able imp of purgatory V 
 
 " ' It is an efilgy of the whore of Baby- 
 lon,' said Oceanus, in a very uncertain, 
 hesitating manner ; for he saw that his 
 mistress was angry, and could not well 
 imagine with what or why. The picture 
 was a queer thing ; perhaps she had given 
 it a personal application, and perhaps she 
 had been quafRng too freely of eau de vie. 
 
 " ' The whore of Babybon !' screamed 
 the brunette, choking with rage, while 
 she tore the offensive print into a thousand 
 pieces, and danced up and down, throwing 
 her arms and legs about much after the 
 manner of the Essler in La Tarantula ; ' it 
 is not enough that you profane our reli- 
 
 gion and defile our most holy books, hut 
 you must insult me ; I, who took you into 
 my own house when you had not a decent 
 rag to your back ; and gave you bread and 
 meat when your belly was as thin as an 
 old case knife. Out upon ye, you eel-gut- 
 ted, lantern-jawed son of a heretic ; I'll 
 teach you better, that I will ; a French 
 woman is equal to two Englishmen, and 
 ever has been since the days of Joaa 
 d'Arc ;' and with that she kicked our hero 
 down four flights of stairs, through the big' 
 corridor, into the street ; not forgetting to 
 send .Tohn Bunyan after him, in a way that 
 showed that she was not an admirer o£ 
 tjiat gentleman's writings. 
 
 SECTION X. 
 
 " Oceanus's retreat from the pretty bru- 
 nette's chamber was as unforeseen, and 
 quite as honourable, as had been his intro- 
 duction. He had lost nothing, and had 
 gained a lesson in morals, if he knew how 
 to appl)'^ it; besides, he carried away upon 
 his person a small sum of money given 
 him by the brunette, and a dress more be- 
 coming than that in which he had entered" 
 the city. Oceanus has a stout heart ; so 
 he gathered up honest John, and, lest op- 
 portunity might invite a renewal of the at- 
 tack, walked hurriedly away in search of 
 some spot, at least six squares distant from 
 his late domicil, where he might sit him- 
 self down and ruminate upon the transito- 
 ry nature of everything in life. As he 
 moved along, careless of his walk, and 
 swayed alternately by the most opposite 
 emotions, now biting his lips with anger, 
 and now melting into sorrow, he planted 
 his foot upon the tail of a small, inoffen- 
 sive dog, which, for reasons undoubtedly 
 sufficient, had concluded to pass the night 
 in the public street. The dog's feelings- 
 were much hurt, for he complained bitter- 
 ly, running to and fro, and waking the 
 night with his howling. Two men, armed 
 with leathe»;n caps and big muskets, hear- 
 ing the little dog's outcries, peered cau- 
 tiously out from behind the corner of a 
 neighbouring building, and carefully recon- 
 noitered the groimd in a manner which 
 proved that they possessed a sufficiency 
 of discretion to keep themselves out of: 
 harm's way. Oceanus was too much en- 
 gaged in endeavouring to make his peace 
 with the testy cur he had inadvertently in- 
 jured, to perceive the approach of the en- 
 emy ; so that he was already in the hands 
 of the law before he knew that he had 
 roused it from its slumbers. The two 
 men with big muskets swore roundly^ 
 having been long accustomed to enlarge 
 their oaths in exact proportion to the di- 
 minutiveness of the object upon which, 
 they were to be expended. They jerked 
 Oceanus about from right to left, after a 
 fashion v/hich convinced him that the brn- 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 105 
 
 nette was not the only monster in that 
 quarter of the city ; and having bestowed 
 upon his person sundry alternate kicks 
 and cuffs, which had the effect of inducing 
 him to join in a chorus with the little dog, 
 who sang the louder for company, they in- 
 formed him that they were parcel of the 
 city's police, and that he was arrested for 
 an attempt to supply the city markets with 
 a sort of meat which was used to be eaten 
 only in times of famine. Oceanus protest- 
 ed his innocence ; the little dog, even, ei- 
 ther because, like some men, his friendship 
 was only to be purchased with stripes, or 
 from sympathy with misfortune, quit his 
 howling, and commenced leaping upon 
 Oceanus's legs, wagging his tail, as much as 
 to say that he fully repented of his agen- 
 cy in getting him into trouble. But the 
 dog's rhetoric, if more persuasive than the 
 boy's protestations, would have hardly 
 saved Oceanus from a lock-up, had not a 
 very spruce-looking young gentleman sud- 
 denly entered upon the stage to give anew 
 turn to its affairs. The young gentleman 
 was a frequent visiter of the brunette's, and 
 was then on his way to her chambers, when 
 he met the police moving off at a quick step, 
 with Oceanus between them, and the dog 
 following in the rear to see the end of the 
 matter. The young gentleman immediate- 
 ly recognised in Oceanus the brunette's 
 valet-en-chef, and supposing that the mis- 
 tress might be in some way connected Avith 
 the servant's untoward condition, very 
 prudently inquired of one of the parties 
 whither he was going, and of the other 
 what they were about. It was a civil ques- 
 tion, and the police could not well refuse 
 to answer it ; so they told their story, in- 
 terlarded with many oaths, and corrobo- 
 rated by certain strange and startling 
 facts, such as, that Oceanus was an old 
 offender ; that they had long had their eyes 
 upon him ; that he was well known as a 
 vender of dog-meat in the markets ; and 
 that they had just caught him in the act of 
 noosmg a mangy cur which had been dy- 
 ing of the rot for the past six weeks ! 
 Oceanus, seeing a face he knew, took cour- 
 age, and told his story ; to the truth of 
 which the dog bore witness with a pathetic 
 howl at the close of each period. The 
 spruce-looking young gentleman knew too 
 much of the world to confound argument 
 with assertion. Argument, saith my Lord 
 Bacon, is like an arrow shot from a cross- 
 bow, it matters not whether a giant or a 
 child pulls the trigger ; but assertion is like 
 an arrow shot from a long-bow, a strong 
 arm must draw the string. The spruce- 
 looking young gentleman chose the long- 
 bow, as being, in most cases, the readier 
 and more effectual weapon ; and he appli- 
 ed his arrows so industriously and so hap- 
 pily, that he soon convinced the two po- 
 licemen not only that he had known Oce- 
 
 
 anus from his birth upward, but that he was 
 his cousin-german ; and that the little dog, 
 so far from being a mangy cur, ready to 
 drop to pieces with the rot, was as sweet 
 as a nut, and was a present which he had 
 himself made his relative but the day be- 
 fore. All of which the little dog corrobo- 
 rated, as a dog might, by readily answer- 
 ing to the name which the spruce-looking 
 young gentleman, with an admirable stroke 
 of genius, gave him upon the spot. 
 
 '* If Oceanus had been horror-struck by 
 the false accusations which the pohcemen- 
 had urged against him, his admiration now 
 gained the ascendency, and he stood mute 
 with wonder when he heard the brunette's.- 
 lover not only assert that he was a pas- 
 senger with him in the ship within whose 
 bowels he was born, but also claim a near 
 consanguinity to him, and profess to have 
 presented him with a dog which he had 
 never seen before he had been so unfortu- 
 nate as to tread upon the poor animal's 
 tail. * 
 
 " The policemen were satisfied, apolo- 
 gized for their mistake, and the spruce- 
 looking young gentleman, Oceanus, and 
 the little dog walked away together. 
 
 " Oceanus readily made known to his 
 liberator both the fact and the cause of his 
 ejectment from the service of his late mis- 
 tress. The spruce-looking young gentle- 
 man laughed heartily, said that the bru- 
 nette was a brute, and knew as much about 
 religion as the grand Turk ; that he might 
 well be glad to be so easily rid of her, and, 
 lest he might be a loser from so sudden a 
 notice to quit, offered to receive him into 
 his own chambers. Oceanus was too full 
 of gratitude to express his thankfulness in 
 words ; but his eyes ran over with tears, 
 and, as he looked up into the spruce-look- 
 ing young gentleman's face, his benefactor 
 saw in them more than he could have said 
 if his tongue had been as ready with bless- 
 ings as a beggar's who has received alms. 
 The spruce-looking young gentleman was 
 satisfied ; and that he might show his confi- 
 dence in his newly-acquired protege, he ask- 
 ed Oceaiuis to loan him a five franc piece ; 
 saying that he had inadvertently left his 
 purse at his rooms, and that in talking with 
 the filthy policemen he had inhaled so 
 much garlic as to turn his stomach, which 
 needed a glass of cau de vie to give it tone. 
 Oceanus turned his pockets inside out, and 
 presented his benefactor with their con- 
 tents. The spruce-looking young gentle- 
 man hesitated fora moment, and, in refusing 
 to accept, accepted ; he chided Oceanus for 
 his extravagant generosity, stepped into a 
 shop by tlic way, expended three sous in 
 brandy, put the remainder by for another 
 occasion, and ended with a lecture upoa 
 economy. 
 
 " ' My rooms are upon the fifth floor ; I 
 detest noise and love air,' said the spruce- 
 
lOG 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 looking young gentleman, as he, Oceanus, 
 and the dog entered the corridor of an- 
 other of those luige hotels which concen- 
 trate the vice of Paris by housing poverty 
 and wealth under tlie same roof. The 
 laughter of superfluity and the groans of 
 want ascend together ; if one is a hymn of 
 gratitude, what is the other ! Poverty and 
 wealth make queer associates ; wealth 
 grows humble when it steps to pleasure 
 upon the neck of want ; and poverty is 
 content when it sees the good of all en- 
 grossed by a few ! It is pleasant to have 
 ever before our eyes an abundance we can- 
 not partake of ! Tantalus in hell is more 
 than matched by Tantalus on earth. 
 
 " The spruce-looking young gentleman's 
 rooms consisted of a single apartment of 
 some eight feet by ten, furnished as a 
 bachelor's kennel is best furnished, with a 
 cot, the better part of a chair, a triangular 
 piece of looking-glass, and a pot of poma- 
 tum. Oceanus was a little disappointed in 
 the appearance of things ; but one who is 
 houseless cannot well complain of the roof 
 which offers him shelter. The spruce- 
 looking young gentleman consulted his 
 mirror, arranged his hair, politely invited 
 his friend to possess himself of the only 
 seat in the room, assumed a patronising 
 air, and, like a good general, at once open- 
 ed the campaign. Although a novice in 
 years, he was old in knowledge of the world. 
 He knew better than to apologize for the 
 poverty which gaped around him ; that 
 spoke for itself, and might be attributed to 
 whim, if too much was not said about it. 
 Disguise, hke every other garment, will 
 wear out, and lasts longest when not put 
 on too often : he had no use for it on this 
 occasion ; and lest Oceanus might ruminate 
 upon home, and thereby become intracta- 
 ble, he gave him other thoughts to occupy 
 his attention, 
 
 " ' Did you ever dream of growing rich V 
 said the spruce-looking young gentleman, 
 drawing himself up to his full height before 
 the admiring Oceanus, whose eyes opened 
 with the question, while his memory ran 
 Ijack to his speculation in cotton. 
 
 " ' You know something of my story f 
 said Oceanus, hesitatingly. 
 
 " ' I know something of every man's 
 story ; for dreams of wealth are a part of it,' 
 said the spruce-looking young gentleman. 
 ' Wealth is comparative, and however base, 
 or however eminent may be a man's con- 
 dition in society, however great may be 
 his deprivations, or however numerous his 
 superfluities, wealth is just beyond his 
 reach. You will, then, never grow rich ". 
 but you may, in striving to get too much, 
 get enough. And I both can and will make 
 known to you a way of getting that enough, 
 honestly, surely, speedily.' Oceanus cast a 
 furtive glance at the triangular bit of look- 
 ing-glass fastened against the wall. The 
 
 spruce-looking young gentleman under- 
 stood the allusion, and answered it. ' Ac- 
 tivity is not cradled in ease, nor is luxury 
 the mother of great deeds. We must win 
 honour before we wear it. A thousand 
 francs created by the workings of our own 
 brain are of more worth than ten thousand 
 which come to us without our agency. 
 Wealth is kind to those who generate it ; 
 it poisons those who are its heirs. He who 
 has never had an acid upon his tongue has 
 little knowledge of sweetness. Poverty is 
 to be loved, because she fits us for the at- 
 tainment of riches, which, when attained, 
 she has taught us how to enjoy.' 
 
 " Oceanus was won. He heard the 
 sounds of joy, of laughter, of revelry, as- 
 cending up from the habitations of those 
 who, according as they were nearer earth, 
 partook most largely of its pleasures. The 
 roll of the carriages of the rich, as they 
 passed within and out of the grand corri- 
 dor, added persuasion to his host's elo- 
 quence ; and the contracted dimensions of 
 the chamber in which he sat, the meanness 
 of its garniture, and the evident want of its 
 possessor, seemed but the gauge of near 
 prosperity. The past, which, even for him, 
 contained a lesson full of instruction, was 
 forgotten, and he felt equal to any enter- 
 prise. 
 
 " The spruce-looking young gentleman 
 was quick to perceive his victory ; and 
 knowing when he had said enough, very 
 leisurely descended from the high oratori- 
 cal tone which he had assumed, put on a 
 conversational manner, and, stretching 
 himself out at full length upon his little 
 cot, poured into the greedy ears of his will- 
 ing pupil the argument of a scheme which 
 was to flood both the talker and the lis- 
 tener with good fortune. 
 
 " As the projector proceeded, opening 
 prospect after prospect, the last more brill- 
 iant than the former, and while Oceanus's 
 eyes grew bigger and bigger, dilating with 
 each new certainty of success, the noise 
 of revelry below was hushed, and the full, 
 strong voice of a male singer alone broke 
 the general stillness. 
 1. 
 " ' Faribolo pastouro, 
 
 Serine al c6 de glas, 
 
 Oh ! digo, digo couro 
 
 Entendren tinda I'houro 
 Oun t'ainistouzaras. 
 
 Toutjour fariboulejes, 
 
 Et quand parpailloulejes, 
 
 La t'oulo que mestrejes, 
 
 Sur toun cami se mit 
 Et te siet. 
 
 Mais res d'acos, mayn&do, 
 Al bounhur pot inena ; 
 
 Ou'es acos d'estre aymado, 
 Quand on sat pas aynna?' 
 
 " ' That is the fool .Tasmin, the coiffeur 
 of Agen, a townsman of my own, for I am 
 a Gascon,' said the spruce-looking young 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 107 
 
 gentleman. 'Now if I should meet him 
 in the streets of Paris, he would nod dis- 
 tantly, and pass on ; yet, with money in 
 my purse, he would sing for my amuse- 
 ment, as he now sings for that of the stolid 
 wealth which stares at him as it would 
 stare at a learned pig ; and whose admira- 
 tion is excited, not by the intellect dis- 
 played, but by the fact that he should dis- 
 play any intellect at all.' 
 
 2. 
 
 " ' Nostro joyo as bis creche, 
 
 Quand luzis lou sourel; 
 Ebe, cado dirneche, 
 Quand te bez^n pareche, 
 
 Nous fas may plaze qu'el, 
 Ayman ta boues d'angfelo, 
 Ta courso d'hiroundelo, 
 Toun ayre doumayzelo, 
 Ta bouco, amay tous pitils, 
 
 Et tous els; 
 Mais res, d'acos, maynado, 
 
 Al bounhur pot mena; 
 Qu'es acos d'estre aymado, 
 
 Quand on sat pas ayma V 
 
 " ' What has genius to do Avith wealth 1 
 it has its own immortality ; yet will it 
 fawn and lick the dust from the feet of 
 riches, as does that singer : proving that 
 the means of compassing a present pleas- 
 ure are of more worth than a world of 
 merit, to be acknowledged hereafter.' 
 3. 
 " ' Tristos soun las contrados 
 Quand s'abeouzon de tu ; 
 Las s6gos ni las prados 
 
 Non soun pins embaoumados, 
 Lou ci^l n'es plus tan blu. 
 Quand tomes, faribolo, 
 La langulno s'embolo, 
 Cadun se rebiscolo, 
 Minjayan tous ditous 
 
 De poutous ! 
 Mais res d'acos maynado, 
 Al bounhur pot mena ; 
 Qu'es acos d't^stre aymado 
 Quand on sat pas ayma?' 
 
 " ' The hair-dresser of Agen, at work at 
 his trade, does not debase the poet of rare 
 worth : the glorious gift of verse raises 
 him aloft above his station ; but Jasmin, 
 the puppet for a day of Parisian vanity, 
 oppresses with a weight of baseness those 
 qualities which can alone give him a clnim 
 wpon immortality.' 
 
 4. 
 " ' Ta tourtero enfugido 
 Te baillo uno litsou : 
 Es al bos que t'oublido, 
 Et que ben pu poulid 
 Dunpey qu'y fay I'amou. 
 Pel I'amou, tout palpito; 
 Siet-lou ! perquc t'enbito, 
 Aoutromen, de ta bito, 
 Lous bes jours sayon nuts 
 
 Et perduts; 
 Gn'a que I'amou, maynado, 
 Qu'al bounhur pot mena ; 
 Acos tout d'festre aymado, 
 Mais, quand on sat ayma ! !' 
 
 " ' The song is at an end ; and now Jas- 
 min feels himself more than repaid by the 
 
 clapping of hands, and cries of "bravo," 
 which have followed its close. Poor sim- 
 plicity ! as if inanity could appreciate in- 
 tellect ; or as if he will not be forgotten 
 when a new wonder, like a new fashion, 
 calls off attention to another quarter. 
 "Bravo" again; and again a clapping of 
 hands. Jasmin has been witty, perhaps in 
 an allusion to his calling ; and they cry 
 " bravo," and clap their hands, to drive 
 away ennui, while he smiles, and hugs 
 himself, and finds noise, fame. Thus will 
 wealth, even in the hands of fools, compel 
 wisdom to pimp for its pleasures : what 
 may it not do when possessed by those 
 who know how rightly to use it! I love 
 poverty for its own sake ; it is amiable, 
 sociable, will seek you out, stay with you, 
 is not readily lost, and is easily found ; but 
 civility has turned the world upside down, 
 and, as most men are wanting in philoso- 
 phy, it is necessary to embrace an evil to 
 secure consideration. 
 
 " ' And now let me tell you, my dear 
 Oceanus, the whole secret of success in 
 life,' continued the spruce-looking young 
 gentleman, rising from his cot, and making 
 sundry demonstrations towards retiring for 
 the night : ' it is in appearing not to need 
 success. When most in want, seem, like 
 a starving town besieged, most to riot m 
 abundance. No man aids another without 
 expecting the return of his principal, with 
 usury ; and a beggar is not the best of se- 
 curities.' 
 
 " The spruce-looking young gentleman 
 put off his coat and vest, and Oceanus was 
 surprised to discover that his friend want- 
 ed a shirt. When dressed, he so arranged 
 his cravat as to conceal so great an incom- 
 pleteness in his wardrobe. He next put 
 off his shoes, and was without stockings ; 
 he then divested himself of his pantaloons, 
 and was without drawers, if Oceanus 
 could have seen his patron's heart, he 
 would have found it as naked of principle 
 as his person was of clothing. 
 
 " ' I am not an advocate for a superfluity 
 of dress,' said the spruce-looking young 
 gentleman, as he now stood, in his natural 
 state, before the averted eyes of his young 
 protege ; ' it would have been better to 
 have abided by the simplicity of our first 
 ancestors. But we must conform to fash- 
 ion; and you may readily perceive how 
 easy it is to do so, even at a cheap rate. 
 I am what few others are, a practical illus- 
 tration of my own maxims : and when most 
 in want, seem most to riot in abundance. 
 Good-night. I am sorry I have not another 
 cot ; you can stretch yourself upon the 
 floor, Oceanus. You will do very well. 
 The plank has grown soft with age. In the 
 morning we will adjust matters.' And the 
 spruce-looking yoimg gentleman was soon 
 in the land of dreams. 
 
 " ' One can hardly call this even a seem- 
 
108 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 ing to riot in abundance ; to me it looks 
 mightily like real want,' murmured Ocea- 
 nus, as he composed himself to rest, as he 
 best might, upon a bed he had not been 
 used to in the earlier days of his young 
 life. He thought of the generous old Tar 
 of the P'ife, of the kind inamorata, of his in- 
 dulgent uncle, and sobbed with a violence 
 which would have awakened any other 
 sleeper but one who, like the spruce-look- 
 ing young gentleman, was an offspring of 
 an actor in the French Revolution. Those 
 who have no conscience, like those who 
 have a conscience unstained, sleep well ; 
 and that terrible convulsion has left but 
 little of the commodity to the generations 
 which have come after it. But it is good 
 to become early acquainted with the lot 
 which an inexorable fate has decreed to 
 the millions of the earth. While the mul- 
 titude cry daily to Heaven for bread, those 
 who have enough, and those who have 
 more than enough, tempt its justice with 
 complaints of imaginary evils. 
 
 SECTION XI. 
 
 "The first light of morning found the 
 spruce-looking young gentleman active at 
 his toilet. He was no sluggard, and pos- 
 sessed an energy and versatility of char- 
 acter which, had they been guided by in- 
 tegrity, would have soon won the wealth 
 he sighed for. Although aided with few of 
 the appliances which modern luxury has 
 invented to cleanse, beautify, and reno- 
 vate a decaying body, and which, like the 
 more refined arts of ancient voluptuaries, 
 bring health as well as physical pleasure 
 with their use, he was able to step forth 
 from beneath the plastic touch of his own 
 fingers as nice a young man as ever li- 
 belled humanity upon the Boulevards of 
 Paris. Such is the skill which is ever the 
 result of practice ; such is the success 
 which is born of determination. The tricks 
 of the juggler put to shame the complaints 
 of those seekers after a higher fame who 
 bemoan the shortness of life. 
 
 " The spruce-looking young gentleman 
 laboured effectually to seem more than he 
 was, while Oceanus, embraced by sleep, 
 ran merrily along upon the asymptote of 
 his waking existence. 
 
 " ' Childhood has no cares, and rests 
 well,' said the spruce-looking young gen- 
 tleman, standing over the dreamer, and 
 watching the gentle heavings of his breast, 
 which rose and fell like the measured swell 
 of a sea becalmed. ' What storms of pas- 
 sion shall ruffle that smooth water! and 
 none more violent than the desire of 
 wealth ; even now its seeds quicken to ger- 
 mination. Blind we enter the world — blind 
 we leave it ; let it, with all its mysteries, 
 roll on ; he alone is wise who seeks in ac- 
 tion a refuge from thought. Ho ! Ocea- 
 nus, up ; up, my Trojan, up ; a thousand 
 
 francs are won and ten thousand lost 
 while you are dozing off the most precious 
 hour of day. That man will never effect 
 much who is caught in bed by a rising 
 sun.' 
 
 " ' A rising sun, however unseasonable 
 may be his movements, will never catch 
 me in bed here, I take it,' said Oceanus, 
 rubbing his eyes, and staring about, uncer- 
 tain whether to consider himself in his wa- 
 king or dreaming existence. 
 
 " ' If you are not abed, and asleep too, 
 these words have different significations 
 according as they are used in the Old or 
 the New World,' said the spruce-looking 
 young gentleman ; ' for I can assure you 
 that of the inhabitants of this great city 
 one hundred thousand know no softer rest 
 nor any deeper slumber than you now en- 
 joy. Want and crime are hard task-mas- 
 ters ; one forbids ease, the other enjoins 
 watchfulness ; you are acquainted with the 
 first ; I know something of both, and nei- 
 ther of us is desirous of prolonging his 
 apprenticeship ; so rouse yourself, and let 
 us mature the plans of the past night.' 
 
 " Oceanus rose up as he had laid down, 
 with his wardrobe upon his back ; and hav- 
 ing well yawned and looked sharply about 
 him, so as to assure himself of his identi- 
 ty, he declared himself ready for business. 
 The spruce-looking young gentleman took, 
 a seat upon the cot, Oceanus drew the chair 
 to its side, and both again forgot present 
 poverty in a future possession of millions. 
 " ■ Tins is the exordium to my prospec- 
 tus,' said the spruce-looking young gentle- 
 man, drawing a paper from his pocket, 
 ' which we will stick upon all the walls of 
 Paris ; it will go hard if we cannot afford 
 to retire from the business before a twelve- 
 month calls either of us a year older. Let 
 me read it to you ; it is what I call a proc- 
 lamation, and will pour into our laps a 
 greater revenue than Augustus received, 
 after his famous decree which, as one of 
 your fine novels says, went forth that all 
 the world should be taxed. Oceanus, hold 
 your breath ; I open with a flourish of 
 trumpets : 
 
 '' ' Compagnic cV Assurance Mutiielle pour les 
 
 FuneraiUes. 
 
 " ' Honneur a la philanthropic du siecle 
 
 ou nous vivons ! Honneur a sa bienfai- 
 
 sante sollicitude qui le porte incessam- 
 
 ment a rechercher ces moyens ingenieux 
 
 qui rendent si facile raccomplissamment 
 
 des devoirs les plus importants, et les plus 
 
 sacres ! Quel homme sensible ne mettra 
 
 pas au nombre de ces dernieres, celui que 
 
 la nature nous impose a I'egard de ce 
 
 qu'elle nous a donne de plus cher, d'un 
 
 pere, d'une mere, d'une epouse, et de nos 
 
 enfants ? Mais, si chacun de nous, quand il 
 
 1 perd un de ces precieux objets de notre 
 
 1 tendresse, pent payer pas de sinceres lar- 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 100 
 
 ines ce tribut si doux d'amour, d'attache- 
 ment, et de reconnaissance, pent il tou- 
 jours joindre a ces teinoinages de regrets, 
 <ies marqnes exterieiirs et publiques ; de 
 -ces sentiments qui desirerent de mani- 
 fester toiijours, et dans tons les siecles les 
 ames nobles et genereuses ! Non, sans 
 doute ! Et c'est ce qui dechire nos coeurs, 
 quand nous sommes obliges de rendre, in- 
 appercus, ces derniers devoirs si cher a 
 tous les hommes. 
 
 " ' Ambitionnant la gloire de fermer cette 
 place sociale, nous avons I'honneur d'offrir 
 a nos concitoyens le moyen le plus sim- 
 ple et le plus aise d'atteindre un but si hon- 
 orable. Quel est, en effet, celui d'entre 
 nous, quelque peu favorise qu'il soit de la 
 fortune, qui ne puisse dans la semaine re- 
 trancherquelques centimes de ses besoins ; 
 et qui ne le fasse avec delice, lorsqu'il son- 
 gera qu'il va assurer a sa famille, a lui- 
 m6rae, les funerailles les plus honorables ■? 
 Nous n'en dirons pas davantage ; e'en est 
 assez pour tout coeur bien ne — contentons- 
 nous de renvoyer a notre prospectus d'as- 
 surance mutuelle pour les funerailles, que 
 Ton trouvera ptiblic dans tous les Journaux 
 de la capitale. 
 
 " 'Jacques D'Orleans, 
 •" ' President de la Compagnie dWssurance 
 
 Mutuelle pour les Funerailles. 
 
 " ' Rue, Palais Koyal, No. 645.' 
 
 " The spruce-looking young gentleman 
 blew out the last blast, closing with his 
 own name in a full, rotund note of tri- 
 umph, and then waited in silence the ad- 
 miration of his companion. 
 
 " ' Do you think it will go down V asked 
 Oceanus, doubtingly. 
 
 " ' Down 1 no ; it will go up, my little 
 fellow, up ! you do not know the Parisians 
 as I do. A Frenchman's ruling passion is 
 vanity ; and it is strong, not only in, but 
 after death. There are fifty thousand per- 
 sons in this city who would starve both 
 themselves and their families for the cer- 
 tainty of being followed to the grave by a 
 score of empty carriages. I know what I 
 am about.' 
 
 " ' We can try !' said Oceanus, musing 
 upon the affiches of his late friend the va- 
 nupied. 
 
 " ' And we can perform ; never talk of 
 trying. Man is a god, and can do any- 
 thing, if he has the will. When you read 
 the story of the great, Oceanus, never 
 wonder that they have done so much, but, 
 rather, that they did no more. Had I have 
 lived, as my grandfather lived, in the time 
 of that great struggle whose history is a 
 page of blood, I would l^iive made the guil- 
 lotine my slave, and not have died, as he 
 died, its victim. But the times have chan- 
 ged, and we must rise in another way. 
 The franc piece is now almiglity; it gives 
 consideration, rank, power. The man of 
 millions is now upon the throne, and his 
 
 avarice is catching. Maximilian, the in- 
 corruptible, in his little chamber over the 
 cabinet-maker's shop, would ill suit this 
 corruptible age. Money must be got ; for 
 in getting monej'' we get everything else. 
 Do you suppose that I look only for an es- 
 cape from' this narrow room, and a change 
 of linen for every twenty-four hours 1 Such 
 things are worthy of our solicitude as 
 means of rising, for there is nuich truth in 
 the adage, that " the tailor makes the 
 man ;" but he who regards his personal 
 adornment, or even the grosser pleasures 
 of life, as an end, merits not the little of 
 the common air he breathes. We must 
 look higher, higher, higher! These are 
 days of instability ; the blow which was 
 struck in eighty-nine has not yet had its 
 full effect, and every man in France who 
 possesses the will has the right — to jostle 
 Philip from his stool !' said Jacques, lower- 
 ing his voice to a whisper. ' He who 
 stands upon the volcano when it bursts 
 will be thrown highest into the air. You 
 do not understand these things now ; you 
 are too young ; but if you live to the age 
 of manhood you will see them. Follow 
 me ; I will not mislead you. The ladder 
 which mounts to power is long, and its 
 first rounds are lowly. But in what do we, 
 dravving money from the pockets of fools, 
 differ from them, speculating in the funds ! 
 Who hanged the Duke de Bourbon ? No, 
 no ! no hesitation, no doubting, no qualms 
 of conscience ! We must play our game 
 boldly, with assurance, or we lose it. 
 Humbug ! Humbug pervades everything — 
 politics, religion, literature, and money- 
 getting. Many an intriguer has risen by 
 it, many a saint has been canonized by it, 
 many a writer has built up a school by it, 
 and many a schemer has grown rich by it ; 
 and we, Oceanus,' continued Jacques, look- 
 ing around upon the poverty which dwelt 
 in his little apartment — ' and we, most as- 
 suredly, cannot lose by it. Listen to the 
 Prospectus !' 
 
 " Although Oceanus was, indeed, too 
 young to appreciate much of the argu- 
 ment, or understand many of the allusions 
 of his spruce-looking associate, he was 
 subdued by the warmth and vigour of his 
 conversation, and sat at his knees, looking 
 up into his face with open mouth, as if a 
 thousand francs hung upon each word. 
 
 " The little dog, wlio had shared his 
 young master's bed, and risen when he 
 rose, appeared to be not the least interest- 
 ed of the party. He had got upon the back 
 of Oceanus's chair, and stood, with iiis fore 
 feet planted upon the boy's head, looking 
 straight forward at the speaker, whose el- 
 oquence he relished so highly, that it cost 
 him an effort to refrain from breaking forth 
 into tlie most noisy applause. Both .lacques 
 and Oceanus were too much absorbed in 
 contemplation of the briUiant prospects 
 
110 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 their scheme was opening upon them to 
 notice so strong an iHustration of canine 
 intelligence, and the little dog retained his 
 position during the reading of the Pros- 
 pectus, wagging his tail, and now and then 
 licking his chops, with a low, half-sup- 
 pressed whine, whenever a proposal of 
 peculiar gusto met with his decided appro- 
 bation. 
 
 " ' Reglement de la Compagnie d'Assu- 
 rance Metuelle pour les Funerailles !' 
 
 " The little dog pointed his cars forward. 
 
 " ' II est inutile, continued Jacques, ' pour 
 ceux qui ont lu notre Prospectus affiche 
 sur tous les murs de cette ville, de deve- 
 lojper les motifs qui, a grands frais, et aux 
 risques de plus grandes pertes encore, nous 
 ont portcs k oftrir aux sensibles et intelli- 
 gens citoyens de Paris, une forme d'assu- 
 rance dictee par les plus purs sentiments 
 de la philanthropic, et dont le seul but est 
 de procurer aux vivants la satisfaction bien 
 grande d'acheter, d'avance, les honneurs 
 dus aux morts. 
 
 " ' You perceive the advantage of such 
 an opening !' said Jacques ; ' those who 
 read the " Prospectus" are referred to the 
 " Regulations," and those who read the 
 " Regulations" are referred to the " Pros- 
 pectus ;" so that, in running from one to 
 the other, they lose a little of each, add 
 much to both, and make a grand affair of 
 the whole !' 
 
 " Oceanus nodded assent, and the little 
 dog, as a matter of necessity, nodded also. 
 
 " ' Ainsi, done,' continued Jacques, ' apres 
 avoir rappele que le capital de la com- 
 pagnie est compose d'actions payees et 
 placees sur I'etat en fonds consolides, aussi 
 stables que le gouvernment. 
 
 '"That is intended as a compliment to 
 government, and will induce it to wink at 
 our proceedings. Cod knows, were the 
 funds believed to be as uncertain as Phil- 
 ip, holders would be beggared within the 
 hour !' 
 
 " Oceanus, not knowing what funds 
 meant, looked wise ; the little dog imita- 
 ted his master. 
 
 "' Nous offrons an public les conditions 
 auxquelles la Compagnie d'Assurance Mu- 
 tuelle se chargera de fournir tout ce qui 
 est necessaire pour le service funebre de 
 tout homme, toute femme, et tout enfant 
 decedes dans la ville de Paris, suivant la 
 dignite des honneurs que le defunt aura 
 choisee pendant sa vie, pour sa sepulture 
 et sa derni^re demeure.' 
 
 " ' That is promising a great deal !' said 
 Oceanus. 
 
 '"We can afford to be profuse in prom- 
 ises ; they cost nothing !' said Jacques. 
 
 " ' It seems to me,' said Oceanus, ' very 
 necessary that we should have a small cap- 
 ital to start with, in order to meet the pos- 
 sible happening of an early death among 
 our subscribers I' 
 
 " ' Never fear that,' said Jacques ; ' the 
 strong and healthy alone will subscribe ; 
 the rich and the old fear death too much 
 to provide for it. I will now read the 
 " Conditions;" you will find them reasona- 
 ble enough : 
 
 " ' ARTICLE 1". 
 
 " ' Pour une biere commune, et corbillard 
 commun, 25c. par mois.' 
 
 " ' How much is a " centime '" ' inquired 
 Oceanus. 
 
 " ' Five centimes are equal to one sous ; 
 and twenty sous are equal to one franc,' 
 said Jacques. 
 
 " ' Then " twenty-five centimes a month" 
 is a very small sum of money,' said Ocea- 
 nus, despondingly. 
 
 " ' But there are in this city,' said 
 Jacques, ' a hundred thousand who will 
 subscribe under that " article" alone ; ma- 
 king two million five hundred thousand 
 centimes — equal to twenty-five thousand 
 francs — or three hundred thousand francs 
 per year; a very pretty revenue, eh !' 
 
 " ' Read on,' said Oceanus, in a tone of 
 courage. 
 
 " ' ARTICLE 2''. 
 
 " ' Pour une biere peinte et corbillard, 
 avec quatre panaches, 40c par mois. 
 
 " ' This " article" will net us at least one 
 third as much as the first,' said Jacques. 
 
 " ' ARTICLE 3'"^ 
 
 " ' Pour une bi6re peinte et corbillard a 
 six panaches, plus quatre glands fins, pour 
 les coins du drap mortuaire, et quatre por- 
 te-flambeau. If. par mois. 
 
 " ' There is something to meet the wants 
 of the mechanics who are well to do in 
 the world, and the small shop-keepers, 
 who have a house to live in, enough to eat, 
 and a little over,' said Jacques ; ' it will 
 give us five thousand francs a month.' 
 
 " ' What is the sum-total to be received 
 under the three articles V asked Oceanus, 
 whose ideas of wealth were already out- 
 stripped by his patron's magnificent com- 
 putations. 
 
 " ' Twelve times five are sixty ; one hun- 
 dred thousand under the second article ; 
 only four hundred and sixty thousand 
 francs a year.' 
 
 "Oceanus was not yet sufficiently ac- 
 quainted with the artificial wants of soci- 
 ety to comprehend the use, or even the 
 possible existence, of so large an income. 
 To him it was infinite ; even imagination 
 could not reach it ; and he took refuge 
 from doubt in wild schemes of expen- 
 diture, which sooit danced in troops before 
 his mental vision. 
 
 " ' ARTICLE 4""". 
 
 " ' Pour biere en acajou, corbillard de- 
 core, drap mortuairo en velours avec galon 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 Ill 
 
 et Iranges en argent, six porte-flambeaux, 
 six pauvres, et dix voitures de suite, 8/. 
 par mois. 
 
 " ' This article will not gain us so much 
 as either of the others," said Jacques ; ' for 
 non,e but those who once possessed for- 
 tunes, and have lost them, with now and 
 then a decayed nobleman, and perhaps 
 one or two fools from among the lower 
 classes, will sign under it. We may put it 
 down at one thousand francs per month.' 
 
 " ' I wish the francs were dollars,' said 
 Oceanus, who, in imagination, had already 
 bestowed a fortune upon his uncle, raised 
 a mausoleum to the combined memory of 
 the inamorata and the old Tar of the Fife, 
 settled his differences with the pretty bru- 
 nette, to the utter discomfiture of John 
 Bunyan, and now sat at the girl's feet while 
 she perfumed his hair with aromatic oils. 
 
 " ' Young fool, where are your thoughts 1' 
 exclaimed Jacques, in a tone of severity 
 which rudely awakened Oceanus from his 
 dream, drove Trouve from his position, 
 and sent him crouching beneath his mas- 
 ter's feet. ' Have not my words yet kin- 
 dled a nobler ambition in your breast ! Is 
 money to be sought for only as the giver 
 of pleasures which bring down man to the 
 beast !' Jacques sprang from his seat upon 
 the cot, and, drawing a crayon from his 
 pocket, rapidly sketched upon the wall a 
 picture, which, as it grew beneath his pen- 
 cil, chilled Oceanus's young blood until the 
 boy covered his eyes with his hands from 
 very terror. 
 
 " It was a passage from the Revolution. 
 Jacques had seized upon the point of time 
 when the Duke of Orleans, on his way to 
 the guillotine, halted before the palace of 
 his orgies, and smiled upon that witness of 
 his riots and his crimes, and made no sign. 
 The infuriated populace of the faubourgs, 
 tempest tossed with every passion whicfi 
 defiles the human heart, raged around him 
 like a sea, while the fearful agent of the 
 Revolution rose and fell, and with every 
 fall gave another life to eternity. Upon 
 every face was written 'blood;' 'blood' 
 was the cry which filled every mouth ; 
 and it flowed until a nation reeled, drunk 
 with its own gore. 
 
 " ' That man is my ancestor,' said 
 Jacques, pointing to the principal figure in 
 the picture, ' and in that death he redeemed 
 a life of infamy. He lived for pleasure, and 
 yet would not barter a daughter's chas- 
 tity for safety. Springing from his loins, 
 though with a " bar sinister," I possess his 
 ambition without his weakness ; and may 
 claim power in equal right with him who 
 now grasps more than did the emperor at 
 his zenith. The Revolution broke the I 
 bonds which linked man to man, dissolved 
 the ties even of consanguinity, reshuffled 
 the cards, and threw me at the bottom of 
 the pack. The days of violence have pass- 1 
 
 ed ; the arts of peace are in the ascendant ;. 
 it is by money alone we rise, and therefore 
 I would have it.' 
 
 " Jacques carefully rubbed the drawing 
 from the wall, and returned to his ' Propo- * 
 sals.' 
 
 " 'article 5""". 
 
 "'Pour une pierre commune placee sur 
 la tombe avec inscription du nom du de- 
 funt, du jour de sa naissance et celui de 
 son deces, 5c. par mois. 
 
 " ' There is an article,' Jacques contin- 
 ued, ' which will bring us all of two thou- 
 sand francs a month ; for those who bury 
 themselves will buy their grave-stones of 
 us ; and since you are so avaricious while 
 yet so young, I will consent that you shall 
 receive all the proceeds of it.' 
 
 " Oceanus, with equal generosity, de- 
 clined anything more than a fair division. 
 He said that he did wish to prove to his 
 uncle that he was capable of taking care 
 of himself; and that his greatest joy was, 
 that he was now in a fair way of do- 
 ing so. 
 
 " ' Your uncle — I will buy him with my 
 sixth article ; " Pour pierre de marble 
 blanc, avec croix en fer et inscription. If. 
 par mois ;" a thousand francs at least,' 
 said Jacques. 
 
 " ' Can you give me a glass of water V 
 said Oceaiuis; 'that horrid picture has 
 made me sick.' 
 
 " ' Ha ! you must get nerve. I have no 
 such luxury as a tumbler; and water you 
 will find in the Seine. If a picture makes 
 you sick, you must be stone blind to ac- 
 tual life ; for this very roof, as quiet as it 
 now is, covers more of suff'ering than my 
 pencil set forth. It is not hard to die ; but 
 it is to live, when society creates wants it 
 cannot gratify. I have but a " Nota Bene" 
 to read, and then we will go in search of 
 both water and bread.' 
 
 " This hint at a spare diet caused Ocea- 
 nus's memory to run back to the evening 
 which he had passed with the vanupied 
 at the restaurant at Le Havre; but as 
 Jacques had told him that 'great things' 
 had never been conceived or executed upon 
 a full stomach, he was content to starve for 
 a time, in expectation of the feast which 
 was preparing in the future. 
 
 '" Nota. 
 
 " ' Les personnes qui voudront avoir un 
 mausolee, presenteront le plan de celui 
 qu'ils auront choisi, et prendront a cetefl'et 
 des arrangements avec la compagnie. 
 
 " ' L'on fournira gratis des croi.x noires 
 en bois aux personnes qui n'auront ni pierre 
 ni tombe.' 
 
 " ' Les enfants audessous de douze ans, 
 et les hommes audessus de soixanie. se- 
 ront sujets a des variations de prix. et 
 s'arrangeront pour cela avec la compagnie. 
 
 " ' There, that is a proper finale, and wili 
 
112 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 yield us ten thousand francs in round num- 
 bers.' 
 
 " ' But can we afford to give away the 
 little black crosses V said Oceanus. 
 
 " ' We can afford to promise them,' said 
 Jacques ; ' and now, Oceaiuis, take your 
 hat, and I will show you how you can live 
 on two sous a day.' 
 
 SECTION XH. 
 
 "For several days immediately subse- 
 quent to the conversation which I have just 
 detailed, Jacques and Oceanus were busily 
 engaged in making preparation for the 
 grand public denouement of a scheme which 
 the genius of a Frenchman alone could 
 have projected, and which Jacques knew 
 the vanity of Frenchmen could alone ren- 
 der successful. Jacques's spruceness, and 
 the debonair air which even a short resi- 
 dence in Paris had imparted to Oceanus's 
 manners, passed as current coin with those 
 of whose aid they had need ; and proved 
 the truth of the maxim, so well understood 
 among merchants, that a good face Avill 
 give credit, and credit is better than money. 
 
 " An office was taken in the Rue Palais 
 Royal, amid the bankers and money-chan- 
 gers, the Jews and sharpers of the most 
 knowing city of the world. But Jacques was 
 not one to fear a contact with the shrewd, 
 for among the shrewd he was the shrewd- 
 est. The affiches were struck off, the pub- 
 lic journals bargained with, and Jacques 
 and Oceanus took a Breathing day pre- 
 paratory to their first grand move upon the 
 chessboard of life. It was on the morning 
 of that day, calm and serene as a morning 
 in June ever is, giving no portent of evil, 
 •when the sun had got high enough to 
 throw its rays over the tops of the houses, 
 and light up one side of the streets it 
 crossed, while the other was buried in deep 
 shade, that the two friends, with Trouve, 
 sallied forth to look upon the fatness of 
 the city they were about to lay under con- 
 tribution. As tl.cy sauntered along its 
 busy thoroughfares, Jacques pointed out 
 such persons as he supposed would sub- 
 scribe his ' articles,' and classifying them 
 into families, re-enumerated the probable 
 a"evenue which each would yield per month. 
 Oceanus's heart dilated with gratitude to- 
 wards those who were to be to him the 
 source of such infmite good ; and he walk- 
 ed on, Uving m the future, while Jacques, 
 at his side, poured into his ear an endless 
 tale of magnificent promises. 
 
 " The schemers had in this way pass- 
 •■ed the larger part of the morning, when 
 Ihey came to a high blind wall which, abut- 
 ting upon two streets, afforded an admi- 
 rable locality for the posting of ' affiches.' 
 Jacques scanned the object before him with 
 the eye of an artist, and at once compre- 
 hended the advantage of its form and posi- 
 tion. He called Oceanus's attention to it, 
 
 and discoursed eloquently upon the possi- 
 ble sums of money it might put into their 
 pockets. While he talked thus jjleasingly, 
 a man with a huge roll of paper, a paste- 
 pot, and a brusli under one arm, and a long 
 slender ladder under the other, stepped 
 quickly over from the opposite side of the 
 way, planted his ladder very unceremoni- 
 ously against the wall, smeared over some 
 hundred square feet of its surface, unrolled 
 his paper, fitted it nicely to the paste, and 
 passed on. 
 
 " It was an affiche ; and the lar^e ru- 
 bric characters in which it was printed, 
 visible from a distance of three squares, 
 admitted of no question as to its import. 
 While the master discoursed, the scholar, 
 with greedy ears, caught each word as it 
 fell, as he woidd have caught fresh coined 
 franc pieces in his hat ; but the affiche told 
 a story which, like the magic of an Eastern 
 tale, at once dissipated the wealth that 
 both felt to be already within their grasp. 
 Jacques's voice faltered, his oration upon 
 the value of riches was brought abruptly to 
 a close, he gazed upon the wall, then upon 
 Oceanus, then upon the wall again, and 
 stood rooted to the spot. Oceanus opened 
 his eyes very wide, and imitated Jacques ; 
 Trouve sat himself down upon his haunch- 
 es, and imitated Oceanus ; and thus was 
 formed a tableau vivant which the idle of 
 that quarter of the city were not slow in 
 appreciating. 
 
 " When one man looks into the air, a 
 hundred others are readily found to follow 
 the example. A crowd soon gathered 
 about the three friends, alternately scan- 
 ning, with an equal appetite for knowledge, 
 the affiche, Jacques, Oceanus, and the dog. 
 The outer circles pressed upon the inner, 
 the inner pressed upon the tableau, until 
 Jacques, roused to a consciousness of his 
 position by the impossibility of longer re- 
 taining it, turned suddenly upon his heels, 
 scowled upon the now sorrowful Oceanus, 
 kicked- the faithful Trouve far over the 
 heads of the impertinent by-standers into 
 the gutter, which ran along midway the 
 street, and hastened, with lengthened 
 strides, back to his little chamber at the 
 
 top of his magnificent hotel in Rue ; 
 
 Oceanus turned slowly, overwhelmed with 
 sorrow, and followed Jacques ; Trouve 
 picked himself out of the gutter, looked 
 about him with an air of surprise, and fol- 
 lowed Oceanus. 
 
 " The affiche, which had destroyed the 
 equanimity of Jacques, turned Oceanus's 
 joy to grief, and afflicted with soreness 
 Trouve's bones, purported to be published 
 by authority ; and announced, almost in the 
 words of Jacques, ' The formation of a roy- 
 al company of eminent capitalists, who, 
 moved by compassion for the wants of the 
 poor, were willing to bury their dead in a 
 style of magnificence beyond the compass 
 
NEW ORLEANS AvS I FOUND IT. 
 
 11? 
 
 of ordinary fortunes.' The plan was one 
 of mutual insurance ; the subscriptions 
 were graded from a costly mausoleum to 
 a simple burial in an ordinary grave, with- 
 out head-stones, without crosses, without 
 carriages, without mourners, without lights, 
 and without prayers. Exordium and per- 
 oration, article for article, it was Jacques's 
 scheme forestalled, and got up after a rich- 
 er manner. 
 
 " When Oceanus and Trouve arrived at 
 Jacques's little room at the top of the hotel, 
 they found him pacing its narrow floor, 
 highly excited, and venting two curses 
 against fortune to one against himself. 
 
 " ' You have betrayed me,' cried Jacques, 
 fiercely, as Oceanus entered the apartment. 
 
 " Oceanus sat himself down upon the 
 only chair, with Trouve at his feet, bowed 
 his head to his knees, and wept aloud. 
 
 " Jacques's anger was subdued, but his 
 policy continued unchanged. ' You have 
 betrayed me,' he continued, ' if not with 
 words, at least with looks. Your face is 
 hke an open page, and in it one may read 
 all your thoughts. I pitied your destitu- 
 tion, and took you in ; but you were not 
 born for wealth, and I have no farther use 
 for you. Go ; go forth to the million, and 
 starve. Such is the lot awarded to the 
 mass of men. Made to creep for a time 
 amid the slime of the earth, they rot, fat- 
 ten the soil which denied them food, and 
 pass from life to an eternity of forgetful- 
 ness. I was not created for an ordinary 
 existence ; and he who would walk at my 
 side must not halt in his gait, nor learn of 
 the enthusiasts, whether in morals or reli- 
 gion, to weigh his acts in a balance. Go ; 
 go forth to the million, and starve ; but re- 
 member, and be silent upon all which you 
 have seen and all that I have said. If 
 questioned, tell the story differently ; it 
 ■will be better for you ; for a probable lie is 
 ever believed before an improbable truth. 
 And now that we are to part, let us part in 
 kindness,' continued Jacques, extending his 
 hand, which Oceanus took within his own, 
 and bathed in tears. 
 
 " Fallen from the high pinnacle of his 
 hopes, the world was again before Ocea- 
 nus where to choose. He protested his 
 innocence of any intentional betrayal of 
 Jacques's great scheme ; told how much 
 he confided in the good ofhces of his pa- 
 tron ; besought that he might be retained 
 for yet one more trial ; suggested new 
 methods of gaining money ; spoke of his 
 loneliness, without a friend, in a great and 
 strange city ; and, with many sobs, fell 
 upon .Jacques's neck, which he burned with 
 kisses. 
 
 " Jacques hardened his heart. ' No,' 
 said he, ' it cannot be ; we are not fashion- 
 ed of the same metal. Go ; and may the 
 great God, who giveth all things, give you 
 bread. Go ; think no more of riches ; re- 
 
 turn to your uncle, and be content to live 
 a life of insignificance — it is your destiny. 
 Happy destiny ! " It were better to be a 
 poor fisherman than to govern men.*' 
 Faugh ! a sentiment fit for a man with his 
 head upon the block ;' and Jacques led Oce- 
 anus to the door, and gave him his blessing. 
 " Oceanus moved slowly down the long 
 stairway ; Trouve, faithful to his new- 
 formed friendship, walked at his side, a 
 partaker in his sorrow ; the joy of abun- 
 dance, the laughter of revelry, rose up 
 from the lower floors ; the youthful wan- 
 derer was desolate in the midst of ten 
 thousand. 
 
 SECTION XIII. 
 
 " As Oceanus passed without the corri- 
 dor, he halted upon the threshold and look- 
 ed out upon the busy street, now, at mid- 
 day, crowded with passengei's, as one born 
 upon land and unacquainted with water 
 might stand upon a rock and look out upon 
 a sunny sea ; to him strange and untried — 
 enticing, yet repelling, full of loveliness 
 and of fear. Rich and poor, the thought- 
 less and the thoughtful — a hundred times 
 he wished himself one of the multitude 
 which hurried along in a ceaseless stream 
 before him : and Avhen Trouve sallied forth 
 to make an acquaintance with his kind, he 
 wished himself a dog, or anything other 
 than what he was. Wearied, at length, he 
 sat down upon the paved floor, and sought 
 for consolation as well as courage in the 
 pages of honest John Bunyan. From the 
 Old Testament he turned to the New, and 
 read of Paul's shipwreck upon Melita, un- 
 til the vivid picture there drawn of the sea 
 and its tempests soothed his spirit, and he 
 fell asleep. ' 
 
 " While Oceanus slept, with his back 
 against the wall, honest John Bunyan and 
 the New Testament open upon his knees, 
 and Tom Jones and Roderic Random peep- 
 ing from each side pocket, a gentleman of 
 some forty years, carelessly dressed, with 
 a pale, thin face, dark, lanky hair, a broad 
 forehead, inquisitive eye, and a nose which 
 seemed to say that it smelt something, 
 passed along the corridor, looking upon 
 every side as if in search of news. He 
 had called upon a friend who had his cham- 
 bers in the hotel, and was returning to his 
 house upon the Boulevard Saint Martin, 
 when the sleeping Oceanus, the books, and 
 the dog watching over all, arrested his at- 
 tention. Who has not read Frere Jacques, 
 and Mon Voisin Raymond, and Gustave. 
 and the hundred other talcs of the most 
 simple, natural, lively, and entertaining, if 
 not the most moral novelist of the day' 
 Paul de Kock loves an incident, even 
 though it may be a grave one, for he has 
 an alchemy to extract fun out of it, or the 
 art to throw it into a grotesque form, with- 
 out destroying its pathos, which he would 
 
114 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 be the last to lessen. So Paul de Kock 
 looked at Oceanus, and the books, and the 
 dog, and smiled ; and as Trouve saw no- 
 thing but good humour in his eye when he 
 borrowed John Bunyan, without saying 
 ' with your leave,' the dog said nothing, 
 and quietly waited to see what might come 
 of it. Paul de Kock, although he hates 
 English as he hates an Englishman, and 
 hates an Englishman as a good Catholic 
 should hate a heretic, can yet read an 
 English book ; but the lofty fiction and 
 stern morals of Bunyan's homely prose 
 epic were as little appreciated by the nov- 
 elist as are his own light, licentious pages 
 by the disciples of the divine. He could 
 not understand Pilgrim, nor find anything 
 worthy of note in his story, excepting his 
 adventures at ' Vanity Fair.' But, in ex- 
 changing the Pilgrim for the New Testa- 
 ment, Paul opened a volume which he had 
 often read of, if he had never read. There- 
 in he could have found much music to 
 which a sympathy in his own heart would 
 have responded ; and as his eye fell casu- 
 ally upon the sorrow of the widow of Nain, 
 it did not leave it until a tear told that her 
 grief was his own. He next drew Roderic 
 Random from his hiding-place, and thought 
 more kindly of the boy who had made a text- 
 book of the best sea story ever written. 
 There was one other volume behind ; and 
 when thy pages, full of frolic, of humour, of 
 wit, of all that is joyous in life, met his eye, 
 Tom Jones, how did a kindred spirit kin- 
 dle ! Paul now loved the sleeping Ocea- 
 nus, caressed Trouve, sat himself down 
 at the boy's side, and, blind to the wonder 
 of the passers-by, who stopped, and stared, 
 and marvelled what the popular novelist 
 might be doing there, he resuscitated the 
 merry Middlesex justice, made the old 
 corridor ring again with Fielding read by 
 one who knows liow to read him, and 
 laughed and shouted until his eyes ran 
 over. Trouve went mad with joy, and Oce- 
 anus awoke, witn a scream, from a dream 
 of the old Tar and his boisterous mirth. 
 
 " With such an introduction, the com- 
 pact was soon made ; and the kind novel- 
 ist led the youthful truant and Trouve to 
 his house upon the Boulevard Saint Martin. 
 There Paul and Oceanus seated them- 
 selves at the window which the former 
 loved ; for it looked out upon the prome- 
 nade, and exhibited life, civilized life, in 
 its hours of relaxation, when the spirit, re- 
 leased from the cares of the body, from the 
 thousand wants, natural and artificial, from 
 the thousand ambitions, and the thousand 
 jealousies, which spring from the contact 
 of man with man, herded in cities, from 
 the strifes for mastery in power, in wealth, 
 for food, gambols as it gambolled in the 
 beginning, taking little thought of aught 
 else than present pleasure. Oceanus told 
 his story, and Paul said it was worth the 
 
 telling. He called for wine. ' Drink,' said 
 he ; 'it is light, it is Hemenes ; your head 
 is strong, and can bear it. Drink to the 
 good old Tar ; drink to your mother, the 
 inamorata ; drink to the knowing Gustave 
 and his show ; drink to the frail brunette ; 
 drink to the spruce-looking Jacques, with 
 his poverty and aspirations : we are all 
 players in this theatre of ours, and it mat- 
 ters little what rule we choose, so we do 
 not mar the drama by our unskilfulness. 
 You have brought a letter to me, Oceanus, 
 from one I love. A page of Fielding 
 would open my heart, were it locked with 
 adamant. He should have lived in Paris ; 
 and certainly it was by accident that he 
 was born out of it. There is no place like 
 Paris, Oceanus : Paris is to the earth what 
 the sun is to the universe, and all without 
 its walls are "outside barbarians." Now 
 tell me what you intend to do, you little 
 demi-savage. Here is my house ; it is at 
 your service : stay with me. I will be 
 your master, and you shall learn my own 
 trade. I will make a novelist of you ; no- 
 thing is easier. Writing books is much 
 like making shoes ; it all comes with prac- 
 tice. You have but to look out of this 
 window, catch a figure in your eye, ob- 
 serve its nose and mouth — for a man's 
 nose and mouth tell all that he is — and 
 copy away after nature. Do you see that 
 woman? I can tell you her story in fif- 
 teen pages, merely from her walk ! She 
 is engaged in an intrigue, and will meet 
 her lover in less than ten minutes by a. 
 stop-watch. Now, starting with such data, 
 we have only to catch up some dozen of 
 the odd characters who are continually 
 passing and repassing before us, put them 
 down again as we may want to use them, 
 move them about as one would the pieces- 
 upon a chessboard, pitch A against. B, and 
 C against both, pass between the two lov- 
 ers, and so mix events as to beat out an 
 interval of six minutes into six days, and 
 the work is done I Egad ! I think your 
 own history would furnish a very pretty 
 web for a tale ; suppose we commence 
 weaving upon that V 
 
 " Oceanus was a little abashed by Paul's 
 characteristic address; and he looked out 
 of the window, and knew not what to say. 
 But he had not yet lost the desire of ma- 
 king money ; and his ear had beew too 
 lately used to Jacques's flattering elo- 
 quence to listen willingly to a proposition 
 which seemed to take away all hops of 
 wealth. So, as the wine worked upoa 
 him, and gave him courage, and as Paul 
 pressed him for his resolution, he told his 
 generous host that he was young indeed, 
 but would become old ; and that in his 
 country old age without money would not 
 command respect from the youths of the 
 Republic. 
 
 " ' You are a precocious boy, and have a 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 115 
 
 brave heart,' said Paul. ' Here you are, 
 without a friend in all Paris, unless it be 
 myself; dropping from the open street into 
 a brothel, from a brothel into the hands of 
 the police, from the police into the hands 
 of a sharper, or a crackbrained fool, who 
 fattened your imagination at the expense 
 of your body, and yet, when I ofler you a 
 plate at the merriest table in the city, you 
 hesitate to accept it. But you shall have 
 money, since money is the appetite of your 
 countrymen. Stay with me a year, and 
 I will give you the proceeds of my next 
 novel.' 
 
 " Oceanus felt like driving a bargain, so 
 he asked what the proceeds of his next 
 novel might be. 
 
 " ' Why, you little Thiers in embryo,' 
 exclaimed Paul, ' you will one day be rich- 
 er than the king. But you will make me 
 angry with you. Fy ! this window is 
 worth a thousand francs to one who es- 
 teems the world to be nothing more than 
 a large puppet-show, as I do. C'est fini ! 
 you are mine for a twelvemonth. And 
 now, after you have looked about your 
 quarters, selected your room, and visited 
 my cabinet of natural history, we will sit 
 down together and play ecarte until the 
 hour for dinner.' 
 
 " It had been a long time since Oceanus 
 had had a choice of chambers ; he loved 
 nothing of nature except its water ; and as 
 to ecarte, he had never held a pack of cards 
 in his hands so as to know them ; but Paul 
 had a fury for ecarte, and as it is a simple 
 game, easily learned with a little instruc- 
 tion, the novelist and Oceanus were soon 
 counting tries, which all fell to the boy's 
 side, he being a beginner. 
 
 " And there was Oceanus, by the merest 
 chance in the world, snugly quartered upon 
 the good feelings of the liveliest writer of 
 the day. Paul de Kock, with all his gross- 
 ness, and I may say impurity, is the most 
 healthy, and therefore the best delineator 
 of manners to be found in modern French 
 literature. He speaks without effort, and 
 tells his story with all the simplicity of 
 style and richness of incident that charac- 
 terize the artless histories of glorious 
 childhood. What can be more sunny than 
 his scenes of innocent frolic, moving our 
 mirth, not with coarse laughter, like the 
 broad pencil of Smollett, but quietly giving 
 birth to the silent intellectual joy which is 
 ever created by an hour's converse with 
 Sir Roger de Coverly^ And what can 
 possess a deeper pathos than some of the 
 pages of the story of Frere Jacques ? Paul 
 de Kock is the Herodotus of fiction. He 
 writes for the kitchen, say the Parisians ; 
 and his works are found in the boudoir of 
 the palace. He is unworthy to take rank 
 with Balsac, and La Martine, and Hugo, 
 and George Sand ; and the holy father at 
 Home first asks you if you have read the. 
 
 inspirations of Paul de Kock. I will not 
 say that Paul de Kock is Fontaine writing 
 prose, but he is something like it. He is 
 immortal, and that is enough. 
 
 " If Oceanus had been older, or if he had 
 been differently educated, he might have 
 appreciated the frequent converse of brill- 
 iant wit and polished manners which en- 
 livened and graced the novelist's table ; 
 but, as it was, he cared little for excellen- 
 ces which, both from their newness and 
 their subtilty, he could not value ; and he 
 had no sooner become used to his improved 
 position than his thoughts returned to the 
 sea, and, forgetting all things else, lived 
 upon the water. Paul was somewhat dis- 
 appointed in finding his protege's learning, 
 as well as his literature, wholly confined 
 to the four books he carried at all times 
 upon his person ; and however much the 
 adventures of Scoresby and Parry, with 
 the open boat navigation of Captain Bligh, 
 might enliven one of Oceanus's yarns 
 about the ocean, yet such materials were 
 ill fitted to form the groundwork of the 
 structure which Paul hoped to build, a 
 monument to his own generosity and pen- 
 etration. He therefore resolved to put the 
 boy in training ; and knowing very well 
 that no one mind was ever made to grasp 
 all things, he wisely determined to com- 
 mence with that subject which was to 
 claim his sole attention in life. With this 
 intention, he one day put into the hands 
 of our hero a small copy of the most im- 
 portant of the writings of the Archbishop 
 of Cambrai. 
 
 " If Oceanus could not bear the restraints 
 of a school in the days of the inamorata, 
 his subsequent wanderings had certainly 
 not fitted him for the reception of a strict- 
 er discipline ; and Le Telemaque, cold, 
 prosy, monotonous, and tiresome, moral 
 and philosophical, and therein feeble, fell 
 from his drowsy hands unread. If, as 
 Villemain says, Homer, Xenophon, and 
 Plato begot the good Fenelon's epic, we 
 can only regret they were not better em- 
 ployed. It is precisely that mfelange of 
 ' idees bienfaisantes,' borrowed from the 
 Cyropedia, with the imagination and the 
 philosophy of Plato, diluted, and more than 
 half lost by their translation into a language 
 possessing neither vigour nor compass, 
 that casting of the fables of Homer anew 
 in the wisdom of Socrates, that union of 
 philosophy the most pure with policy the 
 most humane, that gives to ' Le Telemaque'* 
 all its dulness. 
 
 " National prejudices blind the most far- 
 seeing ; and it is possible that Paul may 
 esteem Le Telemaque the first of epics; 
 but we must, in charity, conclude that the 
 book was selected more for its purity of 
 style than for its artistical excellence. 
 Oceanus was apprenticed to the trade of 
 an author, and, as it is wise to put the mo«t 
 
116 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 perfect tools into the hands of the learner 
 of the most humble of the mechanical arts, 
 so it is best that a student of the humani- 
 ties should be first made acquainted with 
 the most classic writers. In this respect, 
 Telemaque holds a place pre-eminent in 
 French literature, and is all that a lan- 
 guage irremediably barren, and incapable, 
 from its very structure, of giving fit ex- 
 pression to our higher thoughts, can attain. 
 Who would recognise the orations of De- 
 mosthenes in French prose ! 
 
 " Paul was not at all surprised that a 
 lover of Tom Jones should not take to the 
 Archbishop of Cambrai ; and perceiving a 
 strong inclination on the part of Oceanus 
 to better his condition by running away, 
 rather than be crammed, against his will, 
 with food which did not fit his digestion, he 
 wisely substituted the vigour of Corneille ; 
 the strength of Racine, like the electric 
 fluid, passes off upon highly polished points, 
 and the comedies of Moliere, which, being 
 nature, the simplest mind readily compre- 
 hends, is soon in unison with, and most 
 vividly enjoys, for prose whose dulness is 
 more than redeemed by its music. 
 
 " Oceanus devoured the comic writer ; 
 although he had read but little French, he 
 learned rapidly, and, living amid his scenes, 
 he passed through many weeks of happi- 
 ness. But Corneille and Moliere were not 
 the only authors to whom Paul introduced 
 his pupil. He would often read his own 
 novels to him ; and when Oceanus's eyes 
 ran over with laughter, the master rested 
 content with his labour. Sometimes Paul, 
 when the humour was upon him, would 
 write a volume, currente calama, throwing 
 it off in fifteen days ; then would the house 
 ring from morning until late into the night 
 with the boy's merriment ; for he would 
 sit at the novelist's side, join in the la- 
 bour of composition, catch the new-coined 
 wit as it fell from his master's pen, criti- 
 cise, and roar again, until Paul caught the 
 contagion, joined in the laughter, and 
 swore, with a Frenchman's ' sacre,' he be- 
 lieved he had done enough for that sitting. 
 
 " Oceanus sometimes dipped into the 
 olden literature, and was once caught 
 shaking his sides over the ' Pleasant and 
 joyous History of the great Giant Gargan- 
 tia.' It may appear incredible that one so 
 young, and so new to the French language, 
 should be capable-of, mastering the difficul- 
 ties and appreciating the wit of Rabelais ; 
 but those who will take the trouble to ex- 
 amine critically into the matter, or test 
 truth by experiment, will find that the lan- 
 guage of Rabelais has, in many points^ so 
 strong an affinity with our own, bastardized 
 as the last is by the forced marriage of the 
 old Saxon with the Norman of William, 
 that the father of Pantagruehsm is more 
 readily understood by a native of London 
 than by a citizen of Paris. No student in 
 
 my own profession, although wholly unac- 
 quainted with French, will find it difficult 
 to read the original text of the ' Tenures' of 
 Littleton. 
 
 " In this way Oceanus lived six months 
 in the house of the novelist ; a neophyte 
 literator, giving fair promise of the future. 
 His days were varied with many pleasures, 
 among which the chiefest was bathing in 
 the Seine ; a luxury he indulged in at all 
 hours, notwithstanding the protests of the 
 police, who made Paul pay in fines, for the 
 redemption of his protege, a sum nearly 
 equal to the proceeds of a novel. He be- 
 came acquainted with the brilliant De Bal- 
 zac, whom he hated for his want of heart ; 
 and he often met with Dumas, whom he 
 disliked for his Ethiopic extraction. But 
 De Balzac had heart enough to overlook the 
 boy's coldness, and often took occasion to 
 encourage his labours by recounting his 
 own early and seemingly hopeless strug- 
 gles for fame. With rare intrepidity, and a 
 constancy which nothing could shake, he 
 wrote and published twenty romances be- 
 fore the good-natured public would be con- 
 vinced that he could write at all ; and as 
 volume after volume fell still-born from the 
 press, he affected a most sovereign con- 
 tempt for the taste of others, and wrote on 
 to please his own. De Balzac would have 
 done much for Oceanus, had he not, in at- 
 tempting to do a great deal, have deprived 
 himself of the possibility of doing anything 
 at all. De Balzac is a vain man, and 
 thinks that he writes better than any man 
 who ever came before him, or tliat shall 
 ever come after him ; and that of all he has 
 written, his satire, entitled ' Physiologie du 
 Mariage,' is the very best. So one day, 
 when Oceanus was refreshing his moral 
 faculties with allegorical wisdom out of 
 honest Jolin Bunyan, De Balzac presented 
 him with a copy of his ' Physiologie du 
 Mariage.' The gift and the time of its 
 presentation were both equally unfortu- 
 nate. Oceanus had often shrunk from the 
 grossness of Paul ; but grossncss carries 
 its own antidote, is open, and warns us of 
 our danger before it strikes ; it is the gloss- 
 ing of obscenity, the clothing of vice in the 
 vestments of beauty, which deceives and 
 entraps the unwary ; which does its work 
 here, and sliall be rewarded hereafter, even 
 as the erratic poet in the Russian fable is 
 rewarded — he sits in a kettle heated by fires 
 a thousand fold hotter tlian those which 
 burn beneath his neighbour who died con- 
 victed of theft. And here I might draw a 
 parallel between the Physiologie du Ma- 
 riage of Balzac and Petronius Arbiter, as 
 histories of the morals of the two great 
 capitals of the world at the widely separ- 
 ated eras of perfect ancient and perfect 
 modern civilization ; but he who has read 
 the Roman will hardly confess his knowl- 
 edge, and the day approaches when the 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 117 
 
 Frank will receive an equal condemna- 
 tion. 
 
 " Oceanus read the book, fascinated by 
 its wit, the point of its satire, the lustre of 
 its periods, from its beg-inning to its close. 
 And this is Paris ! the great heart of the 
 world ! Meretricious, rotten to its core. 
 False in everything, except in its base- 
 ness and its misery. Wanting in virtue, 
 and therefore wanting in everything which 
 renders the condition of liumanity — always, 
 and under all circumstances, encompassed 
 with evil — even supportable. Oceanus 
 threw the book from him, and sought the 
 open street. He stripped the pages of the 
 satirist of their eloquence, and Paris, naked, 
 in its moral deformity, stood before him. 
 The truth had come to him, and he could 
 not breathe freely in the confined atmo- 
 sphere of a room. ' All is not gold that 
 glitters.' So it ever is with the freshness 
 and purity of youth. When the deceits of 
 manhood first break upon it, and, half 
 awaked from its dreams, it begins to dis- 
 trust, it seeks the open thorouglifares, the 
 fields, mountain, and wood, and, avoiding 
 mortality, holds communion with the great 
 elements, fire, and earth, and water, and 
 air ; for they are types of the power which 
 created them. 
 
 " Oceanus walked to the Seine ; the roar 
 of the vast ocean he loved filled his imagi- 
 nation. He went down to the stone steps 
 near the Marche-au-Fleur ; the earlier days 
 of his childhood came back to him, and 
 home, with all its associations. Eight 
 months had passed away since, escaped 
 from the coche, alone, houseless, weary, 
 and hungry, he had there thanked Heaven 
 that he found himself in Paris ; and those 
 eight months had brought to him more of 
 sorrow than of happiness. What had he 
 done, and what was he doing? What, but 
 to tread from the beginning in the paths 
 of vice ! Now more pleasant, misnamed, 
 and misunderstood, indeed, but equally 
 certain in their course towards a moral 
 death. An el6ve of Paul de Kock, and 
 Honore de Balzac ! A fit sequence to the 
 wisdom of the fair brunette and tlie philos- 
 ophy of Jacques. Oceanus sat upon the 
 stone steps near the March6-au-Fleur, and 
 mused long and deeply. He returned to 
 the house of the novelist thoughtful and 
 depressed. He sought for a book to dissi- 
 pate his melancholy ; he put his hand upon 
 ' Attala.' He opened the volume, and 
 read : ' Ne pouvant plus resister a I'envie 
 de retourner au desert, un matin je me 
 presentai a Lopez, vetu de mes habits de 
 sauvage, tenant d'une main mon arc et 
 mes filches, et de I'autre mes vetements 
 Europeens. Je les remis a mon gencreux 
 protecteur, aux pieds duquel je tombai en 
 versant des torrents de larmes. Je me 
 donnai des noms odieux, je m'accusal d'in- 
 gratiiude. Mais enfin, lui dis-je — 6 mon 
 
 pere ! tu le vois toi-m^me, je meurs si je 
 ne reprends la vie de I'lndien.' 
 
 " The following morning Oceanus pre- 
 sented himself before Paul, dressed like 
 one about to start upon a journey. In one 
 hand he held a small bundle, which con- 
 tained whatever of his wardrobe he did not 
 carry upon his back ; in the other was Le 
 Vicomte de Chateaubriand's pretty tale of 
 ' Attala.' 
 
 " ' Where are you going, mon brave gar- 
 Qonf demanded Paul, in a tone of surprise. 
 
 " Oceanus opened Attala, and pointed to 
 the passage just cited. 
 
 " ' And so hastily !' said Paul, huskily, 
 much moved by the incident : ' but I have 
 expected it. Yes, return to your uncle, mon 
 petit sauvage. I would have tamed you ; 
 but happiness is alone worthy of pursuit in 
 life ; and we must seek for it where we 
 have reason to believe it is most easily to 
 be found. Return to your uncle ; yet let 
 me make better preparation for your de- 
 parture.' 
 
 " Oceanus threw himself into the arms 
 of his benefactor, acknowledged his many 
 kindnesses, said he was ready, and w'ould 
 go — go as he came, taking with him little 
 else than some knowledge of vice dearly 
 paid for, and the warm love of one whom 
 he should always name among the fore- 
 most in his prayers. 
 
 " Paul and Oceanus parted at the stone 
 steps near the Marche-au-Fleur. The boy 
 descended the Seine as he had ascended it, 
 in a coche ; and when the last farewell 
 was given, and the oars dipped into the 
 water, the novelist confessed the pathos of 
 a real scene in the romance of life. 
 
 " If Oceanus's second entrance into Le 
 Havre wanted the sunshine of hope, he a 
 second time left it less depressed by the 
 memory of crushed expectations. For- 
 getful of Gustave, forgetful of the scenes 
 of his late joy and sorrow, forgetful even 
 of the old merchant who so kindly made 
 known to him the result of his speculation 
 in cotton, he shipped for New Orleans ; 
 and, as he stood out of the harbour, and 
 sailed along the coast, until the last of the 
 windmills dipped beneath the sea, his hea/J 
 mounted to his throat, and he thau'"^^ 
 his God, the Maker of the ocean '^^'*J 
 there, upon the waters, men could iv' build 
 and congregate in cities." 
 
 CHAPTER -T^X. 
 
 oceanus's return. 
 
 " And I might have f'ied the;*,' imprisoned as I 
 was, had not a friend Ound nie but."— Hackluyt s 
 Voyages. 
 
 ARGUI/ENT. 
 A Meeting at Sea. — Oceanus arrives at New Or- 
 leans. — le Imprisoji*d. — The Cicerone. - Ocea- 
 nus's First Lessgrt in Prison.— Oceanus and tli* 
 
118 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 Cicerone in the Vaults.— Legerdemain.— The Ci- 
 cerone instructs Oceanus how to become a Fin- 
 ished Rogue— Bulwer'sWrituigs. — Tlie Cicerone 
 in Pantomime. — The Priest— Oceanus learns that 
 " Pilgrim's Progress" .is not the Old Testament. — 
 Oceanus meets with his Uncle. — Conclusion. 
 
 SECTION XIV. 
 
 " And now," continued the lawyer, " I 
 will give you the last chapter in this boy's 
 history, the conclusion whereof will bring 
 ns unto that middle hour of the night which 
 our host most loves, and to whose utmost 
 limit he is ever anxious to draw out that 
 most social of all meetings, a dinner served 
 for three. 
 
 " Oceanus's third voyage across the At- 
 lantic was, in its immediate consequences, 
 little less disastrous than the former two, 
 of which the first deprived him of his moth- 
 er, and the second wrecked his fortune. 
 He had been out hardly ten days, when 
 the whole ship's crew, taking in high dud- 
 geon the drudgery which, on board a mer- 
 chantman, occupies a sailor's hours off 
 watch, moved aft in a body to urge their 
 grievances upon their captain. Oceanus, 
 as the smallest and most innocent-looking 
 of the company, was compelled, much 
 against his will, to act as spokesman. 
 He knew the duties and subordination be- 
 coming a sailor as well as another, and re- 
 fused to have part or lot in the matter ; 
 but a large, brawny Spaniard, with a breath 
 much like that of the Caliph Abd'almalec 
 Ebn Merwan, who, by a fine figure in rhet- 
 oric, was called the ' father of flies,' grasp- 
 ing him firmly about the neck, so plied one 
 ear with threats against the youth's liver 
 if he did not speak according to dictation, 
 while he whispered into the other what 
 was to be said, that he could not hand- 
 somely decline doing all that was required 
 of him. 
 
 " The captain, who was a man of decis- 
 ion, was not loi.^ in making up an opinion 
 upon the subject of his crew's complaints ; 
 and rightly judging that a boy, with his 
 neck between the jaws of a vice, could not 
 be well held accountable for the sounds it 
 emitted, he very kindly advised Oceanus 
 to dodge the weight of an argument which 
 was to fall, in the shape of a handspike, 
 upon the head and Herculean shoulders of 
 the Spaniard. These things are soon end- 
 ed. The big Spaniard's courage sank to a 
 level with the ship's deck, and handcuflTs 
 and gyves were received by some half doz- 
 en of his associates as quietly as a lady 
 receives her bracelets from the hands of a 
 lover. 
 
 The remainder of Uie voyage was even 
 enough ; and, notwithstanding the captain 
 had some misgivings as to Oceanus being 
 an idolater, from his seeming worship of 
 the sea, and frequent communion with that 
 element, the Balize were made in good 
 time. 
 
 "As the ship, with all sails furled, and 
 yards neatly trimmed, moved towards the 
 city, drawn against the current by the 
 power of steam, Oceannus's heart beat 
 with a thousand conflicting emotions. His 
 travels were at an end, and memory, which, 
 with the rapidity of light, ran back through 
 all their iiijcidents, told him that he had not 
 done well. As he stepped from shipboard 
 upon land, the blush of shame mantled upon 
 his cheek ; his uncle, in imagination, stood 
 before him ; he wanted courage to go for- 
 ward ; and he turned back, and hid him- 
 self within the forecastle, which received 
 him as a friend. But a deeper suff'ering 
 was to overtake him than his own self- 
 abasement ; for, wherever he might hide 
 himself, he could not escape the searching 
 fingers of the law. 
 
 " A sailor is a ward in admiralty, with- 
 out the capacity of ever arriving at years 
 of discretion. The captain had been made 
 acquainted with this maxim of the books,' 
 and was too wise not to profit by his 
 knowledge. No sooner, therefore, had 
 his vessel touched the Levee, than he fore- 
 stalled an action for damages by an affida- 
 vit of mutiny. That was what he called 
 'laying out an anchor to windward.' 
 
 " It is astonishing how much position 
 affects opinion ! The captain as prosecu- 
 tor, and the captain as defendant, finds 
 that justice has two faces ; and Jack soon 
 learns that a court, with all its professions 
 of protection, is much like a stepmother 
 when he stands in the dock. 
 
 " A sailor can give no better security 
 than the four walls of a prison ; and, as 
 Oceanus's testimony was material, he, too, 
 was joined in the same bond with the big 
 Spaniard and his half dozen associates. 
 The law says wisely, ' that married wom- 
 en and children, not being able to bind 
 themselves, must procure some other to 
 be bound for them.' But who, in this large 
 city, would enter into a recognisance for 
 the appearance, on a day stated, of the 
 youthful, runaway sailor-lad, Oceanus ? 
 So the boy was fain to come forth from 
 out his hiding-place, and, eschewing all 
 unnecessary fear of soon meeting with his 
 uncle, take chambers for a time at the 
 state's expense. 
 
 SECTION XV. 
 
 "A prison! God save the young who 
 enter within its portals ! Many have cross- 
 ed its threshold in purity, to come foiih a 
 contamination ! The pest-house, where 
 civilization collects and herds its vices, to 
 sweat and rot until, like the slime of a 
 stagnant pool, they generate life innumer- 
 able, and go forth, under new shapes, and 
 with a new existence, to vex the earth. 
 Thus it is that crime is renewed, transmit- 
 ted from generation to generation, and 
 made immortal. As surely as the blood 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 119 
 
 fiows from the centre to the extremities, 
 so surely do we of this age drink of the 
 ■cup which was mixed in the prisons of the 
 most ancient of days! Alas! how fearful 
 is the responsibility of him through whom 
 sin first came into the world '■ 
 
 " Oceanus's young heart lost its bold- 
 ness, his joyous face its colour, and his 
 soft limbs shook like an aspen leaf, when 
 the grated door swung harshly to, and its 
 bolts were drawn, one by one, upon him. 
 Why was he there ? Had he escaped so 
 many perils ni the old world, to meet with 
 such a reception on his return to the new ? 
 Ignorant of the wisdom and the justice of 
 the law, he asked an explanation of its 
 mysteries of those who were about him, 
 equally unfortunate with himself, and his 
 inquiries were answered with shouts of 
 laughter. The murderer, the prowling pad, 
 the burglar, the sneaking thief, the repre- 
 sentative of every crime, sullen, silent, 
 thoughtless, noisy, clothed with filth, naked, 
 tricked out with the ready trappings of a 
 slop-shop foppery, were there, and receiv- 
 ed with merriment each new-comer. 
 
 " The scene was new, and Oceanus's spir- 
 it was new, unhackneyed, notwithstand- 
 ing his travels, to all the ways of the world ; 
 so curiosity soon got the better of fear and 
 ■wonder, and the boy, instinctively thrust- 
 ing his hands into his pockets, looked 
 coolly about him, asked no more questions, 
 and began to think that he might possibly 
 have been worse accommodated. But 
 knowledge of every kind has its price; and 
 even vice exacts a premium of its appren- 
 tices. Oceanus soon learned this truth ; 
 for as he walked along the cells, and into 
 the common yard, opening his eyes to all 
 he saw, and admiring the strange mixture 
 of filth and strivings after cleanliness, ex- 
 treme debility and physical strength, tears 
 and laughter, hardened crime and appa- 
 rent innocence, groans, curses, and depre- 
 cations exhibited by the company, amid 
 which he found himself, a figure that sat 
 apart, enthroned within a dirty blanket, the 
 seeming genius of the place, very kindly 
 volunteered his services as guide and cice- 
 rone. 
 
 " The cicerone explained to Oceanus the 
 mysteries of the place, pointed out to him 
 its greatest geniuses, told a great deal of 
 biography, and closed with what he called 
 the investiture of citizenship. That cere- 
 mony was performed after this manner: 
 tlie cicerone first calling around him a mot- 
 ley crowd of the inmates of the yard, threw 
 his own filthy blanket very gracefully over 
 Oceanus's head in such a way as to shut 
 out the light from every point of the com- 
 pass ; then drawing the four corners tight- 
 ly about the boy's neck, he held him in a 
 quiet, erect position, while his companions 
 picked his pockets and his back until they 
 left him iiaked, without wealth, excepting 
 
 old .John Bunyan and the New Testament ; 
 and without clothing, excepting the sailor 
 trowsers, which they spared to his youth- 
 ful modesty. Oceanus, when released from 
 the blanket, looked a little wild ; but that 
 expression wore ofi' with the congratula- 
 tions of his new friends, who generously 
 informed him that he was now one of 
 themselves — equal in privileges and ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 " Naked from the waist upward, one can- 
 not say much for the boy's appearance ; 
 yet the costume had its advantages, inas- 
 much as, by reducing him to an equality 
 with those with whom he was to consort, 
 it gave him an easy assurance which he 
 would not otherwise have readily attained. 
 But the privileges conferred were impor- 
 tant, and consisted in being admitted to par- 
 ticipate, in full communion, in all the eu; 
 joyments and secrets of the prison-house. 
 And let no one esteem too lightly such en- 
 joyments ; fellowship is much, even with 
 the guilty, when cut off from all other as- 
 sociation ; and the hand of the murderer is 
 capable of many kindnesses. Oceanus ex- 
 perienced this truth, and acknowledged it 
 long before he went out from the walls he 
 had entered, he knew not why, and which 
 he left with some feelings of regret. 
 
 " ' Crime is spread like a pall over the face 
 of the earth !' Oceanus had gone aside to 
 give vent, unobserved, to the grief he felt 
 at parting with his constant companions in 
 travel, Roderic Random and Tom Jones ; 
 they had just passed through the grated 
 window in exchange for a more liquid com- 
 modity. ' Crime is spread like a pall over 
 the face of the earth I' Oceanus turned 
 around, and saw an old man standing near 
 by, whose eyes, suffused in tears, were bent 
 mournfully upon him ; his feeble limbs 
 could ill sustain the thin weight which 
 rested upon them, and he soon sank, ex- 
 hausted, upon the pavement ; then calling 
 to the boy, he bid him sit down at his side. 
 Oceanus obeyed, much wondering what 
 the old man wished to say. 
 
 " ' My son,' said the old man, putting his 
 shaking hand upon Oceanus's head, ' I was 
 once young in crime like yourself.' 
 
 " Oceanus interrupted the old man, and 
 very innocently assured him that he was 
 there for no crime, or for any cause, that 
 he wot of. 
 
 " My son,' said the old man, heaving a 
 deep sigh as he looked upon the boy's 
 white skin and delicate limbs, not yet tan- 
 ned and hardened by exposure, ' deceit is 
 out of place with me. You can neither 
 gain by falsehood, nor lose by truth. Be 
 silent and listen, if your lips are wedded to 
 a lie. I was once as young in crime as 
 yourself; my skin was as fair, and my 
 feet, which have trod the stony floors of a 
 hundred cells, were as soft and velvety as 
 your own. Even now, with eighty winters 
 
120 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 upon my head, memory is fresh and green 
 within me, and I feel the prints of a moth- 
 er's kiss upon sobs which have worn away 
 the flint of many prisons. Oh ! that I had 
 died before I had eaten of the tree whose 
 fruit gives us the knowledge of good and 
 evil. The first crime is the greatest, for it 
 is the father of all which come after it. 
 The first impure thought moulds the vir- 
 gin to a whore, and leads the boy upward 
 to a manhood of shame. I was taught 
 this truth early in life, for I cannot cloak 
 my deeds with lowliness of birth or the 
 blindness of ignorance. I embraced sin 
 knowingly, and walked onward in its paths 
 until my garments were like unto his who 
 came from Edom, red with the blood of 
 men. Crime became my passion, and I 
 sought evil as the drunkard seeks his cups. 
 My son, turn while there is yet time, and 
 not enough of habit to render repentance 
 impossible. God may forgive one so 
 young, and years of good works may blot 
 out the record of an incipient wrong ; but 
 who will forgive me a long life of wicked- 
 ness, or what farther lime may I expect to 
 win forgetfulness of the past ? My son, it 
 is not this body, heavy with tears, that I 
 bemoan, but a spirit crushed beneath a load 
 of crime which I must bear throughout 
 eternity. Be warned, and may your re- 
 pentance plead for me.' 
 
 " The old man rested his head upon 
 Oceanus's breast, put his fingers slyly into 
 Oceanus's side pockets, turned them inside 
 out, and finding nothing, thrust the boy 
 from him with curses, saying ' that he was 
 a young and most incorrigible sinner, who 
 would never come to any good !' 
 
 " And this was Oceanus's first lesson 
 within the walls of a prison. 
 
 SECTION XVI. 
 
 " Many days passed, and Oceanus grew 
 used to his new condition. The captain 
 of the merchantman had gained his point, 
 and the mutineers were soon discharged 
 for want of a prosecutor ; but Oceanus, 
 who had committed no crime, was not 
 upon the books ; he therefore was at first 
 overlooked, and then, being small, finally 
 forgotten. He insensibly put on the hab- 
 its of those around him, and learned to 
 love their pleasures. He caught the slang 
 of the prison-house, and studied hard to 
 add many new words to Mr. Grose's Dic- 
 tionary. He grew filthy about his person, 
 forgot the toilet lectures of his friend 
 Jacques, and became ragged in his nether 
 and only garment, so that his popularity 
 with his associates exceeded that of the 
 famous Salem Ebn Ziyad, protector of the 
 province of Khorasan, who, during the two 
 months he held office, stood as godfather to 
 twenty thousand children. 
 
 " Oceanus's acquaintances changed with 
 each opening and shutting of the prison 
 
 doors; with him, it was much like one 
 walking through the crowded thorough- 
 fares of a large city, where we meet with 
 new and old faces, give a nod of recogni- 
 tion, say a word, and pass on. But there 
 were some who remained with him, fast 
 friends, and faithfully taught him all they 
 knew. Of these, the cicerone of the 
 blanket, who had been there time out of 
 mind, and a young physician, imprisoned 
 by his shoemaker, stood highest in his con- 
 fidence. The cicerone took great pains 
 with the youth, so that he became wonder- 
 fully expert at picking a pocket, and hailed 
 each new investiture of citizenship with a 
 shout of joy. He taught him how to fare 
 sumptuously by means of his wit, even 
 when his genius was cramped within the 
 compass of four walls. 
 
 " AH doors, excepting the outer portal's, 
 opened to the cicerone ; so one night he 
 led Oceanus from his cell, and introduced 
 him to certain queer vaults beneath the 
 prison floors, and then known only to the 
 elect within and without the walls. 
 
 " Oceanus was filled with amazement, 
 and jumped up and down, and shook him- 
 self, thinking it a dream ; for he could not 
 trust his eyes when he saw around him, in 
 that strange place, rich goods, and wines, 
 and all the appliances of a fat table. 
 
 " The cicerone laughed, and asked if he 
 thought the owners of those wares would 
 search for them there. ' It is not to feed 
 upon stale bread and small cubic pieces of 
 cold boiled beef that I remain so long with 
 you, or find means to return as often as I am 
 ejected,' said the cicerone. ' There are 
 as many ways of making money as there 
 are lives to a cat ; and this is one of them. 
 Every bottle that passes the grate does not 
 contain whiskey ; nor are those who are 
 sent here upon sham claims of debt lightly 
 freighted. This is our storehouse, and I 
 am its keeper. There is no good reason 
 why an honest thief should not grow rich, 
 retire, as other tradesmen do, and live re- 
 spectably upon his gains. Most of us con- 
 tinue in business too long : it is like spec- 
 ulating at the gambling-table — speculating 
 in cotton — tlie pitcher that goes too often 
 to the well is finally broken. Now sit you 
 d»wn upon the stone bench, my little Oce- 
 anus, and I will tell you the history of the 
 place, while we drink the health of our 
 keepers in as good a glass of Burgundy as 
 ever was ripened in garret or cellar.' 
 
 " Oceanus and the cicerone sat down 
 upon the stone bench together. Upon the 
 floor at their feet, and upon the wall above 
 their heads, and on each side of them, 
 were massy iron rings, fastened into the 
 rock, and used, most probably, in times 
 long passed, more as means of torture than 
 of security. 
 
 " ' There is a tradition among us,' said 
 the cicerone, ' which says, that many 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 12r 
 
 years since, when this miserable country 
 was young — and I call it miserable be- 
 cause, like a slave, it has had many mas- 
 ters — the Holy Inquisition — the most 
 damnable of all the inventions of men — 
 builded these vaults. That tribunal, like 
 the unclean bird which hovers over ap- 
 proaching armies, and scents the carnage 
 before it is made, followed the Spanish 
 arms around the earth ; and where they 
 conquered it fastened itself, and made cor- 
 poreal in the present the hell it threatened 
 in a hereafter. It taught morality by the 
 application of the thumb-screw, and en- 
 forced its articles of faith with fire and fag- 
 ot. Wherever it colonized it built a pris- 
 on, and the wail of men, and women, and 
 children went up to Heaven in the track 
 of its footsteps. It digged more graves 
 than it ever saved souls, and gloated after 
 blood with an appetite keener than that of 
 the young lion when he first tastes of the 
 spoils of the forest.' 
 
 " ' It was a rare monster,' said Oceanus. 
 
 " ' It would seem to have been so,' said 
 the cicerone ; ' for my own part, I know 
 nothing about it. But if it did, in truth, 
 build these vaults, the devil himself must 
 have been at the head of it ; for there is 
 nothing here, excepting my own wines, 
 victuals, and merchandise, which smells 
 of Christianity. See ! the walls are dotted 
 v/ith iron rings and crucifixes ; upon that 
 small altar of hewn stone in the centre stood 
 the taper and crucifix; and upon these lit- 
 tle stone benches were seated the victims, 
 their limbs braced with chains, so that they 
 could neither stand nor lie, but died and 
 rotted where they sat. Groan answered 
 groan, and both were echoed back from 
 the vaults still beyond. Each maniac 
 glared upon his opposite, and each raved 
 for the flesh he saw dropping from the 
 other's bones !' 
 
 " Young Oceanus's teeth clattered one 
 upon the other as he looked upon the pic- 
 ture the cicerone had drawn ; and he won- 
 dered that man. unaffrighted by the many 
 forms of wo which daily stalk the earth, 
 should strive to engender it in yet more 
 horrid shapes within her very womb ! 
 
 " ' Sit closer to me, boy, and drink more 
 wine ; you seem chilled with the dampness 
 of the place,' said the cicerone. 
 
 " ' See ! see !' screamed Oceanus, spring- 
 ing to his feet, and crouching between the 
 cicerone's knees ; ' a wretch sits upon ev- 
 ery stone, and mocks us !' 
 
 " ' Hush, child !' said the cicerone ; ' the 
 keepers will hear your cry, and suspect 
 that rats are working beneath the pave- 
 ment. Why stare you so 1 there is no- 
 thing here but my own goods and blank 
 walls. Fy ! you see nothmg but the crea- 
 tures of a fancy even less real than the 
 shadows of my lantern, which come and 
 go with every change of the slides. It is 
 
 the only machine that I make use of ia 
 my profession, and it is an important one. 
 With it I can play as many tricks as a fox 
 carries in his bag, and it has often saved 
 me in extremity. Look ! it is managed in 
 this way ;' and the cicerone, shutting ire 
 the light, exhibited group after group, fro-m. 
 the most threatening to the most gro- 
 tesque, until Oceanus lost his fears, and 
 laughed till his sides cracked. 
 
 " ' And thus, with a proper combination 
 of reflectors,' continued the cicerone, ' I 
 can bring a whole family of portraits into 
 position, give action to a painting, and turn 
 a house inside out. I have more than once 
 shaken the nerves of men wuth stout hearts 
 by carrying the public street, with all its 
 passengers, directly through the centre of 
 a receiving-room. But this is the ma- 
 chinery of the profession, which every fool 
 may master ; I will show you other arts, 
 \vhich are to be attained only after infinite 
 toil, and, as you are a boy of some genius, 
 in for life, since you are here for no cause,, 
 perhaps you had better divert yourself with 
 striving to become an adept in them.' 
 
 " The cicerone rose, and, throwing off 
 his blanket, stood stripped to the waist be- 
 fore Oceanus ; then tying a handkerchief 
 about his loins, so as to form a pocket at 
 his back, ' Now,' said he, ' I am about to 
 exhibit to your admiring eyes the most 
 beautiful, the most simple, and the most 
 difficult of all the tricks of the juggler ;; 
 it is that of the •' cups and balls." The' 
 greater part of his wonders are wrought 
 out with the aid of machinery, but this de- 
 pends wholly upon the velocity of his 
 movements. Come, let us go to the altar ; 
 you shall sit upon one side, while I stand 
 upon the other, and if, with the closest at- 
 tention, you can detect the cheat, you will 
 do that which I cannot, even when prac- 
 ticing before a mirror.' 
 
 " Oceanus and the cicerone took their 
 positions. Had an inquisitor, loosed for a 
 time from his trial of fire, then have look- 
 ed in upon the master and his scholar, he 
 would have made the old vault ring again 
 with boisterous joy ; for the altar of super- 
 stition was covered with tlie tools of a 
 mountebank as cunning as himself 
 
 " The cicerone put tlie cups and balls 
 into Oceanus's hands, tliat he might see 
 there was no fraud about them. The cups 
 were of porcelain, and rang clear, without 
 crack or false bottom. 
 
 " ' Look sharp,' said the cicerone, arran- 
 ging the cups in a line upon the altar ; 
 ' you shall fully understand the method by 
 which I perform this trick, and yet shall 
 not be able to detect the means in the per- 
 formance.' 
 
 " The cicerone commanded the balls at 
 his pleasure ; they were where he willed 
 them to be, single or together, while he 
 stood with his naked arms stretched out 
 
122 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 over the altar, and seemingly moved nei- 
 ther hand nor finger. 
 
 " ' The devil, or an inquisitor, aids you,' 
 shouted Oceanus, as, at the close of the 
 show, cups and all vanished openly before 
 his wondering eyes. 
 
 " The cicerone turned, and showed the 
 tools he had played with lying in the pock- 
 et at his back ! 
 
 " 'Thus it is that a wondrous skill comes 
 after and rewards a long-continued labour,' 
 said the cicerone, packing away the ' cups 
 and balls,' and setting out the vacant al- 
 tar with pieces of roast fowl, bread, and 
 ■wine. 
 
 " ' Our profession no longer admits of the 
 rough carriage and open violence which 
 distinguished its magnates of a century 
 since. This is the age of a true civiliza- 
 tion, when, by a frequent intercourse, all na- 
 tions have become as one great family, and 
 there is no concealment for crime other 
 than the dress of manners. We must now 
 live within the very bosom of society in 
 order to escape observation, and practise 
 the arts of a luxurious refinement if we 
 •would hedge about our acts with a defence 
 against suspicion. Take a piece of the 
 duck, Oceanus ; it was brought in yester- 
 day by the fat gentleman, who, you will 
 remember, was imprisoned for an hour on 
 a false suspicion of debt. He carried a 
 brace in each sleeve of his coat, and cov- 
 ered with his doublet stores for a month. 
 Should you ever get into the world again, 
 you will find it more convenient to pick a 
 pocket than to demand a purse upon the 
 highway ; and learn that a well-sustained 
 system of genteel financiering is, in the 
 end, more productive than the most suc- 
 cessful hits at housebreaking. Tear the 
 meat with your fingers, Oceaiuis ; don't 
 use the knife too much ; above all things, 
 never cut bread : these are matters of im- 
 portance, for bree''ing is never so well 
 tested as at the dinner-table ; and there, if 
 there is anything false about you, it is 
 much apt to peep out. The tricks which 
 I have just played before you are the best 
 preparative for one who is determined to 
 excel in a delicate adaptation to the exi- 
 gences of a polished and advancing state 
 of society. Never eat more than one sort 
 of vegetables with any single dish, Ocea- 
 nus ; nor load your plate with condiments : 
 you may in that way detect a cook. They 
 give ease and quietness to the carriage, 
 and enable you to remove a gentleman's 
 snuff-box from beneath his very nose. Put 
 the wine in the other glass, Oceanus ; you 
 must be very circumspect in such trifles, 
 or you will be thought to have been suck- 
 led upon a more vulgar liquid. But if the 
 ' cups and balls' are the best manual exer- 
 cise which my experience, and it is not of 
 a late date, can recommend to a youth 
 who js ambitious of the highest distinction 
 
 in the profession, yet there are other and 
 more intellectual labours, which impart a 
 corresponding adroitness to the mind, and 
 are equally necessary to success. Hold 
 your knife jauntily in your hand, as if eating 
 were more a matter of amusement than 
 of necessity ; and remember that, upon no 
 occasion whatever, must you carve ; starve 
 first. In directing you what, and in what 
 way to eat, I have plainly intimated that 
 the manners and dress which are the fash- 
 ion of the time must be assumed and worn 
 as if they had been put upon your back at 
 your birth ; and this is a thing not easily 
 to be accomplished ; for although many 
 may dress to a character, but few know- 
 how to act it. Never pick your teeth at 
 the table, Oceanus ; if the Italians do so, 
 it is because they are as wanting in deli- 
 cacy as in morals. Now, there are two 
 ways of studying men : the first and better 
 is personal observation, the other is obser- 
 vation at second hand. Hold your glass 
 as if its weight oppressed you ; and when 
 you drink your wine, do not appear to taste 
 it : it should be as familiar to your hps as 
 water, and no one tastes that. Neither is 
 to be neglected, for neither can alone give 
 perfect knowledge. The first source of 
 instruction is wholly dependant upon our- 
 selves ; the second is more so than we are 
 in general willing to confess. As one can- 
 not do all things, neither can he see all 
 things ; for although ubiquity promises to 
 be attainable somewhere in the course of 
 the next century, it will not be so in this ; 
 we must therefore permit others to see 
 many things for us. Sit erect in your 
 seat, Oceanus, and do not stoop forward, 
 nor lay your whole body upon the table. 
 One should be neither a lounger, nor a sol- 
 dier upon guard, over his dinner ; there is 
 a medium between the dressing-gown and 
 buckram, which, combining ease and grace 
 with self-respect, is beauty in posture. 
 Now, of all who have written about living 
 manners. and character, for with the past 
 you and I have nothing to do, the novelists 
 are the most true, and therefore the most 
 instructive ; and of the novelists, I do think 
 Mr. Bulwer to be, for our purpose, the best. 
 Do not run your fingers through your hair, 
 for if it is in order, as it ought to be, such 
 an operation will displace it ; and if it is 
 filled with oil, as it ought to be, your hand 
 is made unfit for the courtesies of the 
 table. In his writings we find most per- 
 fectly portrayed, not the finished gentle- 
 man alone, but the finished villain also ; 
 the one within the other. They present 
 many a model which we may well imitate. 
 Give your days and nights to them, Ocea- 
 nus, for they will richly reward an aspi- 
 ring student. At table, never put your 
 bare hand to your face, or touch any part 
 of it with your fingers ; if you have occa- 
 sion, use a napkin. There are other wri- 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 123 
 
 ters whom you may consult ; I know not 
 whether to call theiii of a higher or a low- 
 er grade, for they have an equal quantity 
 of truth scattered sparsely through a mass 
 of fiction ; yet fiction, if it be possible, is 
 as instructive as past realities. Vidocq, 
 Ainsworth, and the biographers of noted 
 sharpers generally, are very instructive ; 
 and no young man who has not made him- 
 self familiar with these, " the text-books" 
 of our profession, should attempt to prac- 
 tise in its higher departments. If you have 
 dined, or supped, or taken your breakfast, 
 whichever you please to call it, it being 
 about two in the morning, you had better 
 refill your glass and wash your fingers ; I 
 have no water ; it would not pay the risk 
 rim in the smuggling. And now I will do 
 in pantomime a character or two taken 
 from my favourite author.' 
 
 " The two greatest mimics of the servile 
 herd of voluntary bondsmen to the public 
 breath, Roscius and Garrick, whose names 
 time yet syllables, while nobler spirits 
 mourn the loss of that high heritage, might 
 have caught a grace to refine abasement 
 from the cicerone of the blanket. He 
 walked, sat, and looked the hero of the 
 master-piece of the best English novelist 
 of our day. Sloth entwined with energy ; 
 without morals, as without belief; regard- 
 less of all law, htiman and divine, except 
 those conventional rules which are born of 
 luxury, and change with each passing gen- 
 eration ; polished in body and in mind, as 
 if the sister arts. Education and Breeding, 
 had laboured in rivalry, and met in the 
 self-same object ; passion, like a well- 
 trained horse, obedient to the bit ; and self- 
 ishness glossed over with a philosophy 
 which gives to the meanest of our attri- 
 butes the show of gold — such is Pelham. 
 To whose pages will the future historian 
 of the English refer for the private and do- 
 mestic habits, in this our age, of that class 
 in society which moulds the form of every 
 people, and gives to them their greatness 
 and their humility ^ I will answer this 
 •question with another ; and ask, in what 
 estimation would the learned now hold the 
 writings of Bulwer had he flourished at 
 Athens during the administration of Peri- 
 cles, or at Rome under Augustus 1 
 
 " But it was as Clifford, Harry Finish, 
 Augustus Tomlinson, MacGrawler, Old 
 Bags, Long Ned, and Gentleman George, 
 that the cicerone revelled in the fulness 
 of joy, and exhibited all his talent ; while 
 Oceanus, as audience, applauded without 
 stmt, and wondered at the completeness 
 of his friend's transformations. Here was 
 neither dress, nor perspective, nor voice to 
 cheat the senses ; but, when the soul 
 changed, the body, with all its movements, 
 which aro its life, changed also, and the 
 actor passed from being to being, as one 
 would put off and on a garment. If it is 
 
 only after long continued and severe toil 
 that one can master the ' cups and balls,' 
 how great must be the labour which sub- 
 dues the subtle spirit, making it a slave 
 even unto itself ! Thus did the cicerone 
 receive into himself, and was possessed by 
 turns of each character as it lives, and will 
 live forever, in that strange book where 
 the high in place are degraded, and the 
 mean raised to an unenviable eminence ; 
 where civilization is stripped naked to the 
 skin, and stands uncovered, exposed, in 
 hideous deformity — drawn with a truth of 
 colouring which the pencil of neither poet 
 nor painter of ancient or modern breath 
 has excelled. I heard a divine read that 
 book, and, as he closed its last page, 'he 
 cried mightily with a strong voice, saying, 
 Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen, and is 
 become the habitation of devils, and the 
 hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of 
 every unclean and hateful bird. For all 
 nations have drunk of the wine of the 
 wrath of her fornication, and the kings of 
 the earth have committed fornication with 
 her, and the merchants of the earth are ' 
 waxed rich through the abundance of her 
 delicacies. Come out of her, my people, 
 that ye be not partakers of her sins, and 
 that ye receive not of her plagues. For 
 her sins have reached unto heaven, and 
 God hath remembered her iniquities.' 
 
 SECTION XVII. 
 
 " Oceanus did not neglect the instruc- 
 tions of such a master. At night they 
 were often in the vaults together ; and 
 during the day, acting upon one of the 
 cicerone's leading maxims, which was, 
 that he knows most who probes deepest, 
 he learned of the young physician all that 
 the young physician knew. His love for 
 the physician sprang from sympathy ; for, 
 although he and his friend entered that 
 house at different seasons, and under differ- 
 ent circumstances, yet the probability of 
 their exit thence seemed with both to be 
 equally indeterminate. The physician had 
 been incarcerated for the sum of ten dol- 
 lars, and as his weekly board was weekly 
 added to the original debt, the prospect of 
 an early liberation could not be said to be 
 very flattering. He taught Oceanus the 
 whole art of phlebotomy, which, saving 
 the presence of our host, I esteem to be 
 the most certain part of physic ; and, as he 
 was of a good temper and had a memory, 
 Oceanus assigned him a character in sev- 
 eral little dramas which the pantomime of 
 the cicerone induced our hero to compose 
 from fading recollections of the histories 
 of his late companions, Tom Jones and 
 Roderic Random. And to these books a 
 third was subsequently added, which you 
 will be surprised to find linked to such 
 company for such a purpose ; the whole 
 forming a well from which the youth drew t 
 
124 
 
 NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 an inexhaustible supply of plot and char- 
 acter. It happened in this way. 
 
 " Six months of imprisonment had rolled 
 by, and Oceanus had forgotten the days of 
 the week. With him, time was divided 
 into two parts, which alternated with each 
 other, and had their beginning and ending 
 with the rising and setting of the sun. 
 The Sabbath was no longer holy, for he 
 had lost its position ; and he deemed it no 
 sin to play when the chances that the hour 
 was unsanctified were as six to one in his 
 favour. Then it was that one of that sect 
 of the religion of Christ which is most uni- 
 versal, most unchangeable, and therefore 
 most truly Catholic, which, after the man- 
 ner of its divine Master, enforces its pre- 
 cepts by its practice, passed within the 
 prison walls upon an errand of mercy. 
 The good priest turned not aside from the 
 poor of purse, and he loved the poor of 
 spirit ; for where there is humility there 
 is virtue. As he walked from cell to cell, 
 bestowing consolation, inspiring hope, and 
 promising pardon, his slow step, mild vis- 
 age, and bowed form, habited after his or- 
 der, attracted Oceanus's attention. The 
 boy was ignorant of the difference between 
 Protestant and Romanist ; but goodness 
 has its own beauty, easily to be discerned 
 by young eyes ; so he drew nigh unto the 
 holy father, and, kneeling upon the pave- 
 ment, as he had seen many an old lady in 
 Paris do, asked a blessing. The holy fa- 
 ther blessed Oceanus, and grieved much 
 to find one so young in such a place. 
 
 " ' My son,' said the holy father, ' to one 
 of your age the world is wont to show a 
 face of marvellous brightness. You are 
 in the morning of life, and the green field, 
 with its soft sunshine and laughing flow- 
 ers, should better please your light step 
 than this damp stone ; how comes it, then, 
 that you are here, amid the miserable, 
 Avho know what ear'h is — a place of terri- 
 ble trial and never-ending sorrow !' 
 
 " Oceanus hung his head. What to him 
 was the green field 1 He was born upon 
 the ocean and reared upon a sandy coast, 
 dreary in everything but the habitations of 
 men. He never knew the pure delight 
 drank in by innocent childhood chasing 
 the butterfly over a Northern meadow, 
 with young, buoyant, hoiden spring urging 
 on the race, and rejoicing in the pleasure 
 she gave — those hours of unbought lux- 
 ury, without a past and without afuture, 
 which neither the wealth, nor the power, 
 nor the knowledge of manhood learns us 
 to forget, and which, alone of all the 
 epochs of busy life, expiring age closes its 
 eyes upon with regret. 
 
 " ' Did no mother mould your first half- 
 formed words into prayer?' 
 
 " Oceanus's memory knew no mother 
 other than the inamorata, who loved too 
 well. 
 
 " ' Did no father watch over your grow 
 ing days, and fill your eager spirit with 
 stories of the virtuous V 
 
 " Oceanus's father died ere he was born. 
 
 " ' Alas ! poor youth ; you bear the pen- 
 alty, while to others belongs the crime. 
 Ignorant — ' 
 
 " Oceanus thought otherwise. 
 
 " ' Without friends—' 
 
 " Oceanus trusted in the cicerone. 
 
 " ' Without morals — ' 
 
 " Oceanus thought his own better than 
 those of most he had met with. 
 
 " ' Without religion — ' 
 
 " ' I have a religion,' cried Oceanus, rais- 
 ing his head and standing erect before the 
 holy father, while his eyes gleamed with 
 triumph ; ' I have a religion, and it is that 
 of the Old and New Testament ;' and, draw- 
 ing the books from his pocket, he put them 
 into his accuser's hands. 
 
 " The holy father opened the larger of 
 the volumes, and, finding nothing there 
 which appeared to be even a free transla- 
 tion from the Vulgate, was at a loss what 
 to make of it. To him it read much like 
 some one of those books which the (Ecu- 
 menical Council of Trent condemned as 
 apocryphal ; and he doubted whether it 
 might not be a heretical version of one of 
 those equally heretical originals. 
 
 " ' My son,' said the holy father, ' who 
 told you that this was the Old Testament*" 
 
 " ' One who was more than a mother to 
 me,' said Oceanus, dropping a tear to the 
 manes of the inamorata. ' She gave me 
 both books upon her death-bed ; and, as^ 
 one of them is certainly the New Testa- 
 ment, the other, being its companion, must 
 be the Old.' 
 
 " This was an argument which the holy 
 father found it difficult to combat ; asser- 
 tion may be met with assertion, but, like 
 two bull-dogs, each will hold to its grip. 
 The holy father, like most of his order,, 
 knew the world better than many wha 
 seemingly mix more in its bustle, so he did 
 that which wisdom and experience had 
 taught him was the only eff"ectual mean for 
 rooting out a fixed heresy. He sat down 
 upon the pavement, and, placing Oceanus 
 between his knees, began at the beginning. 
 He first opened the New Testament, re- 
 lated the whole story of Christ, without 
 ornament, in all its native simplicity and 
 beauty, and showed how his coming, cliar- 
 acter, and mission had been prefigured by 
 the prophets. He then took up the Old 
 Testament, which he carried fastened to a 
 leathern strap that was bound about his 
 waist, and, quoting copiously from its 
 pages, showed the wide distinction be- 
 tween truth and fiction ; and proved that 
 Bunyan's allegory was anything other than 
 those inspired writings which are con- 
 tinually alluded to by the biographers and 
 apostles of the Saviour. 
 
NEW ORLEANS AS I FOUND IT. 
 
 " Oceanus doubted, and then believed. 
 It is a hard thing to give up one's religion, 
 or to release the mind's hold upon the mi- 
 nutest parcel of its faith. So Oceanus 
 found it ; and he took the ' Trials of Chris- 
 tian' in his hands, and wept over them, and 
 bid them an eternal farewell. Of all the 
 sufferings of his short pilgrimage, this cer- 
 tainty of knowledge, this opening of his 
 eyes to the falsehood of what he had be- 
 heved to be divine, was the severest. He 
 felt like one bereaved of a first love, and 
 the consolations of the holy father were 
 Tain to quiet the heavings of his breast. 
 Does knowledge give virtue ? These things 
 must be left to time. And thus did the 
 *■ Pilgrim's Progress' fall from its position, 
 to hold rank and use with the other stories 
 of fiction with which Oceanus delighted his 
 associates in bonds. 
 
 SECTION XVIII. 
 
 " Pass the wine ; the story of Oceanus 
 draws to its close. 
 
 " Our youth had lost his old religion, and 
 was not yet quite settled in the new, when, 
 one day, as he talked with the cicerone 
 upon matters of high import, and drew fine- 
 spun distinctions between the true and false 
 characters of men, a gentleman of some 
 forty-five years, with a face which thought 
 had made severe, and an eye that rogues 
 love not, entered the prison court. His 
 errand was a professional one. A cunning 
 Jew, who, in these piping times of irre- 
 sponsibility, held much, owed much, and 
 paid nothing, left Mobile with a large por- 
 tion of the profits of the bank of that city 
 in his pocket. He came to New Orleans 
 to take advantage of the peculiarity of our 
 laws, and do what the respectable-look- 
 ing old gentleman did, and what thousands 
 of others have done — sue his creditors ! 
 There are in most matters many ways of 
 doing the same thing ; and here, one may 
 sue his creditors either upon a voluntary 
 or a forced surrender, or after an arrest 
 upon mesne process : the Jew, out of the 
 subtilty of his wisdom, selected the last of 
 the three modes, and thus gained his food 
 at the expense of others. The gentleman 
 of some forty-five years was the attorney 
 of the losing corporation, and had entered 
 the prison for the purpose of having an in- 
 terview with its absconding debtor. 
 
 " Age soon forgets youth ; for, with years, 
 the younger gains upon the elder born ; but 
 youth never forgets age ; for, in the eyes of 
 childhood, age is always the same. The 
 cold attorney did not recognise injiiostjuak 
 id boy who stood before him, Jterdjog Avilh 
 the outcasts of civilization, tlip Wu&irr 
 ew he had long mourned as lost t© all that 
 is good in life, if not to life itself; but the 
 
 126 
 
 nephew^ recognised the uncle, and pride, 
 humbled by suffering, no longer held him 
 back. 'With a cry of joy which made the 
 lazy keepers start and look about them, 
 he bounded across the court, leaped upon 
 the attorney's neck, kissed him over and 
 over, asked forgiveness for the past, prom- 
 ised reformation in the future, and laughed 
 and wept by turns, until the man of severe 
 habits, like the father in the simple parable 
 told by Christ, received the repentant prod- 
 igal to his bosom. 
 
 " Oceanus parted from the cicerone with 
 some feelings of regret. Deserted by all 
 the world, he had been his friend in bonds ; 
 and if the instruction he gave was not fit- 
 ted to lead our youth to honour, he had 
 turned to merriment days which might 
 otherwise have crushed a spirit capable of 
 good things. It is much, when fallen, to 
 retain even the power of recuperation. 
 The cicerone, too, exhibited an emotion 
 to which he had been long unused. His 
 heart was hard, and written all over with 
 crime ; yet it was capable of friendship — 
 what heart is not? — and he had lost a 
 scholar apt to learn. 
 
 " He bid farewell to the young physi- 
 cian, thanked him for the knowledge he 
 had imparted to him, and marvelled at the 
 justice of the law which adds to the evils 
 of poverty the punishment of incarcera- 
 tion. All the inmates of the yard crowded 
 about him, and congratulated him upon his 
 release ; for he was loved by all, and he re- 
 turned it. It was a pleasing sight to see 
 those debased men raised, for a time, high 
 above their deep and damning degradation 
 by the soft influence of affection. These 
 things teach us that there is to be found, 
 even in the most vile, the means of re- 
 demption ; that one love possesses us all, 
 binding together witth one cord all of hu- 
 manity, the ends whereof are in the hands 
 of the Creator. 
 
 " As the uncle and the nephew passed 
 without the prison, Trouve, who had nev- 
 er forgotten his master, but watched daily, 
 during his long imprisonment, before the 
 gates, obeying no one, and living in hope, 
 met them at the portal, and the cup of 
 Oceanus's happiness ran over. 
 
 " Our hero returned to Mobile wiser, 
 perhaps we may say better, for the perils 
 he had passed. He no longer shunned his 
 uncle's company, nor turned a deaf ear to 
 healthy instruction ; and, excepting the 
 honours which he continued to pay to the 
 graves of the inamorata and the old Tar 
 of the Fife, there was nothing in his acts 
 which recalled the memory of other days, 
 is now here, claiming the fortune to 
 
 I ^Vhich \\B has so lately fallen heir ; let us 
 drink a pumper to his early escape from 
 I the delajs and vexations of the law." 
 
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