^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Hhb -> \' V "^^^^^ "is- ,f ■=V-/'' OO '/ ^ \" \^^^- -''o. N - V- ^^^ "^>. .•^V^ t- V .0 o_ ■••'i .(*' G 0' .^^ .^^-^^ 0^^ ■^.. .,^ .\- ■ 0- . V 1 i-Jv ,'?-• ^-^-^i.^^^ V N .0'^ ^- '..^ •->\- .-^^ •./' ^ % ■"o,V - '*. ,*■ x^^ "^^. .-■c- J- -X N \ .-N A •/'• <--. .^ ^^ ^^.^' .A\^ -\ 3 0' aV ./■-, O ■ * Ok ' ' ^ ^ -^^ .^'^ ■; '-."'.. Ol- V \' \^ .^^^ ' ,. ^ S\- •1^, '/ .^^' ^.- v^' ~ _/ x^^^. \> s ^ " ^ ' /, > 'p ■^^•^' - ^^- ' - s^ % A^^' -X. ,0' O -< :,"*/% ,-^^ ■'^o<^ .^ -^. ■, ^^... '%.'-, '^'^^>' ^ o- 'o 0^ .>'' ""' \>' ^^<<. <■>, '>'^ ^. A^- ->- cJ-^ C' X' , '<-' '^ ,^' ~^ ^ V "-^ .X^ %<< A A - ■i-'. •>> <^ THE TWO PAKSONS; CIJPIFS SPOMS; THE DEEAM; AND THE JEWELS OE VIRGINIA. BY y GEOEGE WYTHE MUNFORD. WITH A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR. RICHMOND J. D. K. SLEIGHT, 1001 Main Street. 1884. OOPYKIGHT BY Mks. e. t. munfokd. 18S4. Primed by Bound t>y WmrTKT & SuKi'rKRSOS, Raxdolfh & Engli!>ii. Kichmoud, V:i. Kichmoud, Ta. THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THE SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF OLD VIRGINIA, WHOSE HEARTS ARE EVER LOYAL TO HER. CONTENTS. PAGE BioGEAPHiCAii Sketch of the Authok, .... 9 The Two Parsons : Chapter I, — Introduction of the Parsons, ... 23 Chapter II. — Two Denominations in One, ... 36 Chapter III. — Why they Preached together, and how they Disposed of their Fees, . . . . . . .50 Chapter IV.— The Winston Family, .... 57 Chapter V. — The Mamage of Jemmy Winston, . . 78 Chapter VI. — Parson Buchanan Ministering to the Sick, . 93 Chapter VII. — Parson Blair's Sermon, "I go a fishing," . 105 Chapter VIII.— Dinner with Mr. Munford, . . .125 Chapter IX. — Mr. Rutherfoord's connection with our Par- sons. — The Oratory of Samuel D. Denoon, . . . 138 Chapter X. — Richmond Light Infantry Blues' Dinner, . 154 Chapter XI. — Parson Blair's School for Boys, . . . 168 Chapter XII. — Death of William Blak. — Sermon by Parson Buchanan, ......... 182 Chapter XIII. — Election for Member of Congress, . . 202 Chapter XIV. — Duel between Parson Buchanan and Colonel Tateham, 212 Chapter XV. — The Partridge Hunt, and the Parson's Sermon on Hunting, 234 Chapter XVI. — Parson Blair's Female Seminary, . . 265 Chapter XVII. — Parson Buchanan's Mode of Discharging Parochial Duties. — The Cobbler and his Shoe, . . 276 Viii COKTENTS. Chapter XVm. — Parson Blair's Dinner Party, . . . 289 Chapter XIX.— The ImiDOsition upon Parson Buchanan, and how he turned it to advantage, .... 308 Chapter XX. — Miss Lnly Ingledon Reading a Gentleman's Countenance, and giving him an Answer Unquestioned, 219 Chapter XXI. — Dinner at Buchanan's Spring. — Barbecue Club, J^26 Chapter XXII. — Mrs. Ingledon, Col. Eobert Brain tree and Mr. Thomas Clairborne, 342 Chapter XXIII. —Parson Blaii-'s Snack. —Chancellor "Wythe, 357 Chapter XXIV. — Mrs Ingledon and her Daughter. — A Par- lor Lecture. — Col. Brain tree and Miss Luly. — Our Thom and Little Luly, ........ 366 Chapter XXV. — The Genealogy of the Braintrees, and the Arrangements for Col. Braintree's Wedding, . . . 380 Chapter XXVI. — Unexpected Interview between Little . Luly and Mr. Claiborne, 393 Chapter XXVII. — The Assembling of the Guests at the Marriage, 404 Chapter XXVin.— Chancellor Wythe's Death. . . .41^ Chapter XXIX.— The Richmond Academy and the Burn- ing of the Theatre, 434 Chapter XXX.— Conclusion of the Wlaole Matter, . . 450 Cupid's Sports. — No. I., 470 No. II., 485 " " No. in., 506 No. IV., 520 The Dream, 535 The Jewels of VrRGnsriA, 542 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR. COLONEL GEORGE WYTHE MUNFORD, the author of the sketches contained in this vohime, was for more than half a century well known, as an accomplished public officer in the legislative and executive departments of the State. His reputation as a literary man has been confined to (comparatively) a small circle of intimate friends, who thoroughly appreciated his varied talents. The following- publication will, we trust, introduce him to a much wider circle, and give those who were acquainted with him only in his public capacity, an opportunity to know and admire him in the more endearing relations of private life. "We propose to select from a variety of notices, running- through an extended period, a few paragraphs, which will give to those who are not familiar with his services in the councils of the State, and with his social qualities, a just es- timate of his character as a citizen, of his ability as a states- man, and of his virtues as a patriot and Christian. We present from the correspondence proposing his name as a candidate for the office of governor, in 1863, such ex- tracts as will furnish, in a concise form, many striking par- ticulars of his public and private career, and show the esteem in which he was held by those who knew him best. A letter was addressed to him by a number of influential gentlemen of Richmond— representative men of all parties. After sketching the circumstances of the times and the peril- ous condition of public affairs, they say : " At so troublous an epoch in our history, the man who 10 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH should uphold the sovereignty and protect the interests of the State, should possess a deep and abiding affection for Virginia, an inflexible resolution never to see her integrity impaired, a thorough acquaintance with her resources and the genius and temper of her people, a large knowledge of the science, and a ready familiarity with the practical details of government, and a character above reproach. Believing that you combine these qualities in an eminent degree, and recognizing the invaluable and distinguished services you have rendered the State in many posts of usefulness through a long series of years, we ask authority to place your name before the people of Virginia for their suffrages as the next governor of the State. These are no days for party nomi- nations or party conventions, and we flatter ourselves with the hope that your name brought forward in this way will secure the vote of a decisive majority of your fellow-citizens." In response to this letter. Colonel Munford gives concisely some of his views upon public afiairs : "Proud of Virginia's ancient renown, zealous that her present should equal her former fame, recognizing but one Virginia, and that containing all her peoj)le and her whole territory, I give my heart and mind to maintain and perpet- uate her integrity unimpaired. " I am a strict constructionist, with the constitution as my compass and chart ; believing it to be the duty of the execu- tive faithfully to execute, not to make laws ; not to usurp the prerogative of the Legislature, nor to interfere with the just action of the judiciary. " I am an advocate of State rights ; opposed to consolida- tion of powers in the federative system. I would, if I could, restrain the Confederate government within its appropriate functions. It has enough to do to secure our independence without violating personal rights. It has enough to do to attend to its external relations ; to smooth the way for in- tercourse with foreign nations ; to care for and provide ad- equate supplies for our patriotic and glorious armies. It has enough to do to provide an adequate revenue, and to curtail its redundant currency, leaving the States to attend to their OF THE AUTHOR. 11 internal affairs, ample for their noblest exertions ; leaving individuals free to regulate their own pursuits, unstimulated by governmental aids, unseduced by governmental bribes, unawed by the exercise of unwarrantable powers. I will give to the President a zealous co-operation, confiding in his talents, fidelity, patriotism, firmness, and Christianity." In the following extracts from a letter urging the nomi- nation of Colonel Munford, Ex-Governor (then General) Henry A. Wise, the distinguished patriot and statesman, thus outlines his public and private character : '' Colonel George Wythe Munford is here presented as a candidate for the office of governor. At a time when Vir- ginia needs the best talents and the experience, skill and counsel of her truest and most devoted sons, such a nomi- nation, it is hojied, will be generally acceptable. " His claims for promotion are the best foundation for the State's claim to his services. He has been intimately con- nected with the public affairs of Virginia for nearly forty years. He has at his fingers' ends the rolls of her legisla- tion ; he has been the keeper of the journal of the reforms of her organic law ; he has, as commissioner of the Sinking Fund, been officially obliged to scan her fisc with the accu- racy of a calculator and a critic ; he has practised her whole system of militia organization ; he has had to state the ac- counts and pay-rolls of her claims and pensions, and the cat- alogue of her library, and to conduct her international ex- changes ; he has had to supervise the audits and settlements of her literary and monument funds ; he has lately revised all her statutes ; and he has been her Secretary of State, in- timately counselling her executive administration, for a long series of years. In offices with very moderate, if not inade- quate, pay, he has waited assiduously, and often extra-offici- ally on her people ; he is universally known and greatly ajj- proved in all the places he has filled and yet fills ; he is thoroughly acquainted with the capabilities of the Common- wealth, and with the genius and wishes and instincts, and even prejudices of her people; and he is intus et in cute, a Virginian, beloved of Virginians, inbued with their genius, 12 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH tlieir wishes, their instincts, their prejudices, their pride^ their passions, their grace, and their glory ! " He is unambitious, except to serve and be useful, and has served and been useful a long time in subordinate places. He is now in the full maturity of his talents. Though time has silvered his head, his energies are yet vigorous as ever, and now, as they have been for many years, are incessantly exerted to do his part well, in the brightest of sunny days as in the night and gloom of the storm which palsies some and appalls almost all. " Colonel Munford is a gentleman in the true sense — ur- bane, even-tempered, calm, patient,honest, just, firm, manly, and liberal. He is a scholar of classical education, and amidst all his practical life has cultivated, not unsuccessfully, the field of polite literature. He is an alumnus of the ven- erable college of William and Mary, with her degree of Bachelor of Law. " At the beginning of the session of the General Assembly in 1825 he was elected clerk of the House of Delegates, to which oifice he was re-elected at each succeeding session for twenty-seven years by unanimous votes. And in December, 1852, he was elected by the General Assembly Secretary of the Commonwealth. On the last day of his service as clerk, the House of Delegates unanimously adopted a resolution tendering to him their thanks for the prompt, able, and im- partial manner in which, for twenty-seven years, he had discharged the unportant and responsible duties of that office. " On the 5th of October, 1829, he was elected Secretary of the State Convention called to revise the Constitution. Of this Convention Mr. Ritchie, in his preface to the Report of their Proceedings and Debates, says : " ' Much of what was venerable for years and long service; many of those who were most respected for their wisdom and their eloquence, two of the ex-presidents of the United States, the Chief-Justice of the United States, several of those who had been most distinguished in Congress or the State Legislature, on the bench or at the bar, were brought OF THE AUTHOR. , 13 together for the momentous purpose of laying anew the fun- damental law of the land. ' " This office he resigned, after a service of two months, having been then re-elected, for the fifth time, Clerk of the House of Delegates. In his letter of resignation he states that, so long as the sessions of the Convention and the House would not have conflicted, he would, with pleasure, have served both, without receiving double compensation. " But brief as was his 'association with the Convention of 1829-'30, it brought him into contact with some of the fore- most men of their time, and their proceedings and debates taught him lessons of jurisprudence and law making, and held before his eyes examples of wisdom and virtue in the art of governing, the like of which we may well pray for again. He could not but be inspired by their spirit ; he could not but be enlightened by the illumination of such minds ; he could not but be made more wisely patriotic by the dignified deliberations of such fathers and founders of civil liberty, of social order, and of constitutional guarantees. " Since he entered upon the duties of Secretary of the Com- monwealth, he has filled, either e.e-ojficio or by special ap- pointment, various other offices. " In March, 1860, the duty of revising the Code of Virginia ■was devolved on him by law, and he has executed his task to the entire satisfaction of the bench and the bar. " Thus he has been required to fill many important but still subordinate offices. All of them, and most of them together, he has filled with ability, assiduity, punctuality, accuracy and dignity. And when we look at the nature of the offices, they are all such exactly as train a man for the comprehensive views and various details required in the executive office, which superintends them all. With the legislation, with the forms, with tlie history of accounts and claims, he is more familiar than any other man. And with the larger subjects he has had to labor still harder and more constantly. He knows all our liabilities, all oui* resources, all our expedients for punctual preservation of State honor, and he knows how to detect the tricks of money-changers, and the frauds of 14 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. claimants. Himself economical, lie lias jealously watched others who would plunder, either by corruption or extrava- gance. There is not a subject of the State's policy with which George Wythe Munford is not habitually familiar, and with which he has not been practically familiar for twenty- five years. What man living can justly lay claim to so large and long, so comprehensive and yet so minute, an experience ? What better mau, then, is there to be found for the office of governor ? "Is there any personal objection to him? His private is even more exemplary and commendable than his public life. He is of an old stock, and a good old Virginia stock. In manners, morals, and principles, as well as by birth and ed- ucation, he is a gentleman. In all those more intimate and tender relations which bind him to family, friends, kindred, and servants, he is all that friendship could ask, or affection claim, or humanity and kindness enjoin. " Is he agreeable in his office ? Go and ask Governors Johnson, Wise, and Letcher what a valuable officer and in- valuable friend in office he was and is ! Go and ask the Legislatures of his time, their members and committees, of what use he is, and ever has been, and how he has volun- teered to serve them with counsel and labor ! Go to the four winds of the State, and ask every poor pensioner and claimant and petitioner for pardon, how many calls of theirs he has answered with much labor without pay ! Go to the Treasurer, Auditors, and the whole persoiiel of the executive service, and enquire how much aid he has rendered them ! And ask everywhere, whether he has an enemy ? If he has none, is he a sycophant to all ? Not one can be found to say so. All will say he is no time-server — he is a State- server. Why then should be, who has been careful and faithful in few and comparatively small things, not be made ruler in many and great things?" In addition to the Code of 1860, referred to by Governor Wise and published by the Legislature upon his recommen- dation, which was known as the second edition of the Code of Virginia, it became apparent, in 1873, to Colonel Munford, OF THE AUTHOR. 15 that a third edition of the Code was indispensable, and in a letter to the General Assembly of that year he assigned the following reasons for a new Code : " The entire change in the organic law since that time (1860), the revolution through which the Commonwealth has passed ; the dissolution of the connection with the govern- ment of the United States by the ordinance of the secession convention ; her independent existence prior to her union with the government of the Confederate States ; her subse- quent union with that government, and the adoption of its constitution ; the continuation of the State government at Richmond during the whole war ; the successful establish- ment of the restored government for the State at Wheeling ; the action of its legislative and executive authorities there ; the ordinances and acts of the convention at Wheeling ; the organization of the State of West Virginia within the estab- lished boundaries of this State ; the assent of the restored government to the formation of the new State, and its final reception into the Union by the Congress of the United States, recognizing the dismemberment of the State, and authorizing the representation of the new State in the Sen- ate and Hoiise of Representatives ; the removal of the re- stored government from Wheeling to Alexandria ; the acts of the Legislature there; the assembling of a convention, which adopted a new constitiition for the government of the State under these auspices ; the resumption of the powers and functions of the restored government at the close of hostilities in the city of Richmond, sustained and supported by the Federal troops ; the subsequent destruction of that government under the reconstruction acts of Congress, sub- jecting the State to military rule and authority as Military District, No. 1 ; the permission given by Congress to the State to form again a new constitution, and the authority granted to elect members to a convention for that purpose ; the action of that convention by its ordinances and resolu- tions ; the submission of that constitution for approval to Congress ; the proclamation of the President of the United States extending to the people the right to ratify or reject 16 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH the coustitutiou itself, or specified clauses in that coustitu- tion ; the ratification of the constitution by the people, and the rejection of the two clauses submitted to them ; the ap- proval of the constitution afterwards by Congress, upon condition of the adoption of the fourteenth and fifteenth amendments to the Federal constitution, and of certain other provisions ; the final reception of senators and representa- tives from this State in Congress, and the action of the Gen- eral Assembly since, to adapt the laws of the State to the new constitution, fundamentally changing the political and civil structure of the government; all combined have ren- dered the laws so chaotic and conflicting in many instances, and produced such radical changes by amendments and re- peal, that the citizens of the State find it impossible to know what the laws are under which they live ; and it requires the deejDCst research and investigation of the bar and the judici- ary to ascertain the law as it is, and then to construe it cor- rectly and satisfactorily. "Under these circumstances, I have prepared another edition of the Code, and I offer it to the General Assembly for publication and distribution to the officers of government for such remuneration as it may deem just. I have encoun- tered great difficulty in its preparation, and have spared neither time nor care in the work, my undivided aim having been to make it as correct as the materials at my disposal would justify. " I have prefaced the constitution as it now exists with an epitomized historical account of the revolution through Avhich the State has passed, (which I believe will be of great use in future,) acd have made many notes to other chapters, show- ing the changes made in the polity and government of the Commonwealth. I have endeavoured to do this without bias or prejudice. I propose, if the General Assembly shall deem the work worthy of publication, to insert in their projaer places such amendments to the laws as may be adopted at the present session." The entire subject Avas referred, in both branches of the General Assembly, to the judiciary committee, and an act OF THE AUTHOR. 17 was passed unanimously iu each house, providing for the publication of the new edition of the Code of Virginia, known since and now as the Code of 1873. MEMOEIAL SERVICES IN THE LEGISLATURE. The House of Delegates of Virginia adopted the following resolutions : " Whereas, The House of Delegates has been informed of the death of Colonel George Wythe Munford, who for a quarter of a century was Clerk of this House, and for more than fifty years filled various oflfices of honor and trust under the government of this Commonwealth, with distinguished ability and exemj)lary fidelity — ^'Resolved \st, That a committee of five be appointed to draft suitable resolutions of respect in honor of the memory of Colonel George Wythe Munford, to be entered on the journal of this House. " Resolved 'ind^ That this House adjourn at 2 p. m. in re- spect to the memory of Colonel Munford, for the purpose of attending his funeral." The committee made the following report to the House of Delegates of Virginia, January 12, 1882 : " The committee appointed to prepare resolutions of re- spect in honor of the memory of Colonel George Wythe Mun- ford, beg leave to submit the following report : " George Wythe Manford was born in the city of Rich- mond, Virginia, on the 8th day of January, 1803. He was named Iq honor of the distinguished Chancellor Wythe, the intimate friend of his father, William Munford, Esq. He in- herited from his father, who was a man of great native abil- ity and high literary and legal attainments, that strength of mind and fondness for intellectual labor which were his life- long characteristics. Reared in the refining and cultivating atmosjihere of a Virginia home of the olden time, all the faculties of his nature were developed and rounded into a symmetrical model of the Christian gentleman. He com- pleted his classical education at the college of William and 18 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Mary, that venerable alma mater, to whom the nation and the State are indebted for so many of the brightest names that adorned their annals in the past. After graduating at Wil- liam and Mary College, he entered upon the study of the law, with the purpose of devoting his life to the practice of that profession. But he was called to another sphere of useful- ness. He was employed b}^ his father, at that time Clerk of the House of Delegates, to assist him in discharging the duties of that office. On the death of his father, in 1825, he was elected to succeed him as Clerk of the House. With what accuracy and diligence he fulfilled the duties of his of- fice, the journal of this House bears most conclusive testi- mony. For more than twenty-five years he kept that jour- nal in a manner that does credit to his skill and industry. When the Convention of 1829 assembled, Colonel Munford's reputation as Clerk of the House of Delegates secured his election as secretary of that body. In that capacity he was thrown into daily contact with James Monroe, James Madi- son, John Marshall. William B. Giles, John Randolph, Abel P. Upshur, and the many other distinguished men who were members of that Convention. " In this way Colonel Munford became more thoroughly acquainted with the public men of Virginia, and her political history, than any other man of his generation "After his long service as Clerk of this House, he was elected Secretary of the Commonwealth. In that office he continued to serve with marked ability until the fall of the Confederacy destroyed the autonomy of the State. " For several years after the war Colonel Munford lived in the county of Gloucester, in the midst of a most interesting family, and surrounded by a large circle of devoted relatives and friends. " After the re establishment of the civil government of the people of Virginia, Colonel Munford was appointed clerk of the committee of this House for courts of justice : and his thorough familiarity with the history of the legislation of this State, his legal acquirements, and his unsurpassed abil- OF THE AUTHOR. 19 ity as a draughtsman of bills, rendered bis services in that capacity eminently valuable. " Subsequently he occupied a position in the office of the First Auditor, and more recently he held an appointment in the Census Bureau at Washington. " During all this long period of public service Colonel Munford maintained the same high standard of official duty, performing the functions of every office incumbent upon him with unswerving honor and fidelity, and thorough ef- ficiency. "In addition to these labours in the service of the State, Colonel Munford succeeded in accomplishing a task which probably no other man would have attempted, on account of the magnitude of the undertaking, and the painstaking application it would impose. We refer to his great and suc- cessful labors in compiling and editing the Code of Virginia of 1860, and afterwards in publishing the Code of 1873. " These works will stand for ever as imperishable monu- ments to his fame, bearicg witness to his ability and exten- sive information. In the paths of general literature, also, Colonel Munford made several efforts, which showed unusual gifts as an author. In looking back over his loDg life, which came to a close at his residence in Richmond, Virginia. Jan- uary 10th, 1882, we may well say : " ' He was indeed A pillar of State ; deep on his front engraved Deliberation sat, and public care. And princely counsel in his face did shine majestic' " In honor of his memory, we recommend the adoption of the following resolutions : " Resolved, That in the death of Colonel George Wythe Munford, the Commonwealth of Virginia has lost a loyal son, who devoted the best dajs of bis life to her service ; one whose mind was stored with useful knowledge ; who knew how to say what was best to say. and what was best to do ; whose whole life was but the expression of the goodness, wisdom, and purity of his heart and soul ; and who, in all 20 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH the relations of life, was the honorable and honored gentle- man. " Resolved, That this memorial of Colonel George Wythe Muuford be entered on the journal of this House, and that the Clerk be directed to transmit a copy to his family." The report was unanimously agreed to. PORTRAIT OF COLONEL MUNFORD. On the 5th of October, 1875, a portrait of Colonel Mun- ford, executed by Elder, of this city, was presented to the Secretary of the Commonwealth, General James McDonald, for the gallery of distinguished Virginians in the State Li- brary. General McDonald, in acknowledging the present, says : " It gives me sincere picture to be able, through the liber- ality and thoughtfulness of Mrs. Munford and you.rself, to place the portrait of your brother. Colonel George AV. Mun- ford, in our gallery of those who have deserved well of the State. His long i^ublic service, characterized through its whole course by singular j&delity and efficiency, and illus- trated by a purity on which the breath of suspicion has never blown, will stand as a high and enduring example for those who come after him, of duty well performed, and merit pro- perly appreciated." MEMORIAL RESOLUTIONS OF THE R. L. I. BLUES. At a meeting of the R. L. I. Blues, held at their armory, January 30th, 1882, the following resolutions were unani- mously adopted : '■ Whereas, It has pleased God to take from us a beloved comrade and former commander, therefore be it "■ JRe solved. That in the death of George Wythe Munford this command has lost one of the truest men upon its rolls, the community a beloved and honored member, and the State one of its best citizens and most faithful public servants. By a life which, in private, was singularly lovable and pure, and in its public acts useful, disinterested, and patriotic, he has left an example most worthy of the emulation of all his OF THE AUTHOR. 21 fellow-citizens, especially of the members of this organization, to which he was sincerely attached from his early manhood to the hour of his death. " That in performing the sad office of bearing him to his grave, we have felt a deep sense of personal loss, and pain- fully realized that his death has broken another connecting link in the chain binding us to the past record of this comr mand. " Colonel Munford was the type, and his name the synonym, of all that made the Richmond Blues of the past the beloved representative of the manhood and hospitality of Richmond, and the Blues of the present peculiarly the object of the af- fection of many of her citizens. Twice commander of the Company, and resigning against the protest of every mem- ber, he never ceased, in war or peace, to evince the liveliest interest in all things concerning it, and when elected first President of the Blues' Association, at an age when most men who had attained his station and were surrounded by his cares, would have lost interest in the Company, he en- tered upon the duties of his office with his old-time fervor, and elevated the organization with that grace and dignity which had always given him such influence and so endeared him to his old command. " That the sympathy of this command be tendered to his family, and a copy of these resolutions be spread upon the minutes, and another copy be sent to his family." In the December number of the Southern Historical So- ciety Papers, we find the following tribute from its editor, the Rev. J. Wm. Jones, T>. D. : •'The death of Colonel George Wythe Munford, which occurred suddenly at his residence in Richmond, on the night of January 9tb, 1882, has caused universal sorrow, any delicately alluding to it and playfully punning on the croitcKing lion that was l)esetting her path. The time came for the marriage, and the good Parson, of course, was the minister ; and he alone of all ministers the only proper man to unite the two in wedlock. The groom handed the Parson three gold pieces (eagles), in anticipation of the ceremony. Pope has it, that " Arts still followed where Rome's eagles flew." And we know that gold pieces of this denomination of the United States contribute much to make more than eagles fly. The Parson chuckled to himself when the gold touched his palm, and a happy idea struck him. And so in the morning, after the wedding, he took up his hat and cane r.,..d wended his way, albeit uninvited, to breakfast with the bride. Of course she met him with smiles and win- ning kisses ; but he said he must give her a cordial shake of the hand, too, for that was the way fast friends sealed HOW THEY DISPOSED OF THEIR FEES. 55 their friendship in old Virginia. And then, when he put his hand in hers, he left in it a little package, tied with a white ribbon, containing the gold pieces he had received as his fee. Untying the ribbon, she read : " From an old godfather to his sweet little Fanny." And when she threw her arms aromid his neck and began her thanks, he put his finger on his lip, and said, this is my secret, and was as merry as a cricket. These were the little by-plaj^s between the sober and the gay — between the solemnity befitting the pulpit, the tears surrounding the dying, the pathos at the grave, and the merriment of peaceful and quiet retirement in private — which gave a charm to the intercourse of our estimable friends. They were the unstringing of the harp after its softest tones have been elicited, only to be drawn up the higher, to loftier strains on suitable occasions. We know of another incident worthy to be recorded. Parson Blair was notified by Mr. Meredith, a friend in Hanover County, that he was going to be married, and would call with his intended at five o'clock in the after- noon of the next day, and hoped he would marry them at his own house; which, of course, could not be declined. • Accordingly, after the ceremony was performed, the groom went to his buggy at the door and brought in as fine and fat a turkey as could well be raised, and laugh- ingly said, " Parson, I must say to you as the Apostle Peter said to the lame man in the temple, ' Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have give I unto thee.' " And this was his fee, and of course it could not be refused. After the groom and bride had retired, the good man sat down at his desk and wrote the following note : ^'Ad Reverendissime Joannem Buchanan: " Dear Brother : — I received to-day as a marriage fee 56 THE TWO PARSONS. an elegant tnrkey. You are so obstinate that you will not take unto yourself a rib. I know you cannot eat a whole turkey by yourself — come and eat it with me, and I will help you to a ' side hone^ or a ' hug me closed and this perhaps will remind you of your duty. "Affectionately, J. D. B." The Parson contented himself with saying, pleasantly : " He feels badly about tliat fee he owes me, and is trying, to pay the debt." CHAPTER lY. THE WINSTON FAMILY. WE have taken pleasure in describing our two Par- sons, and they linger in our memory with a rever- ential feeling. The recollection of the charming inter- course kept up between them and our cherished parents brings back many of the ]ojs> of our boyhood. As years roll on, and the friends of our youth are passing away, Ave partially fill up the gap. by musing over the incidents in the lives of these good men and their delightful com- panions. In order to know them, it is necessary to know those with whom they were intimate, both by family connection and by social intercourse. As only one of our Parsons was married, we desire to have a knowledge of the wife who was the object of his affection, whose happiness contributed to his enjoyment, and whose dis- tress cast gloom and sorrow upon his brow. Then we wish to know her family ties, and become acquainted with her friends and relatives. In fact, we want to be introduced to Mrs. Blair. Those who did not know her or them may well envy those who did ; and thinking we may contribute to their pleasure by giving them an ink- ling of these charming characters, we shall endeavour to climb such limbs of the genealogical tree as we may per- chance be able to reach. Time will soon cut down all these old trees, and even the stumps will be pulled up, for the destruction of the system of primogeniture in this country must destroy every vestige of the aristocracy of the olden time, and 4 58 THE TWO PARSONS. will leave little or no inducement to the son to enquire of his father who his grandfather was. Shoddy will certainly not care to show who Shoddy was, nor how he acquired his money. Indeed, we knew a gentleman, not a representative of Shoddy either, who was profoundly disgusted when asked to give his assistance in the con- struction of his own genealogy, declaring he took more interest in the progenitors of his dog, Carlo, than in all the old Winstons in creation. As an apology for this gentleman, we will say that he was suffering at the time with a twinge of the gout. Somebody, however, may have the curiosity to ask who was Mrs. Blair; and as she was unlike mother Eve in having had a mother, they may desire to know who that mother was. The good Parson used to call his wife "Mary," and in his younger days, no doul)t, went so far as to say "Mary, dear," or "Mary, honey." We have seen it stated in Parson Blair's memorandum book that on a particular day he sent to Mrs. Mary Winston, his wife's mother, the sum of twenty dollars. By these two links we make out that the wife and her mother were both named Mary Winston. We have had the curiosity to ask for our own satisfac- tion, Who was old Mrs. Mary Winston? And while musing among the tomb-stones in St. John's old church yard, on Church Hill, in this city, we discovered one tablet, sacred to the memory of Geddes Winston and Mrs. Mary Winston, his wife; the lirst of whom died in the month of June, 1784, and the last in December, 1811. We thus ascertain the father of Mrs. Blair. Having ob- tained this foot-hold on the genealogical tree, we shall squirrel-fashion play among the branches. It is proper that our readers should know this family circle — this group of bright minds and warm hearts that gave fascination to the society in which they moved. We THE WINSTON FAMILY, 59 can give them a shadowy outHiie. It may help some of our friends to find out their cousins, uncles and aunts, nephews and nieces, and even their grandmothers and grandfathers. We have ascertained that this Mr. Geddes Winston was the son of Wm. Essex Winston, who was the son of old Isaac Winston, who descended from the ancient and honorable family of that name in England. We men- tion this fact because it will explain why Mrs. Blair, in a subsequent chapter, imdertakes to show how she was de- scended from the Earl of Essex.* Mr. Thomas Rutherfoord, with whom we shall l)ecome gradually acquainted as we progress, says in a communi- cation before us: "When I first knew Mr. Geddes Wins- ton, that gentleman was pretty far advanced in years. He was remarkable for his quiet, but social, disposition, with rather indolent habits. He possessed at one time considerable property, but had become involved in diffi- culties by securityships. He had a facility for placing his name on the back of small slips of paper, to accom- modate friends, who assured him he should never hear from them again; but which, without much ceremony, usually paid him domiciliary visits in about sixty or ninety days, and thereafter kept continually pulling at his purse strings, as if they were bell wires. At times he was troubled with a curious impediment in his speech, which prevented him from speaking audibly the mono- syllable ' No ;' but this impediment was not perceptible in usual conversation. It would be well for some peo- ple in reading these reminiscences to stick a pin in that word 'No,' and give a moment's reflection to its import. *The most remote progeuitor of whom we have knowledge was Isaac Winston, who was born in Yorkshire, England, in 1620. Three of his sons emigrated to America, and settled near Richmond, in 1704. These were William, Isaac and James. Isaac, the second of these brothers, was Mrs, Blair's immediate progenitor. / 60 THE TWO PARSONS. "Notwithstanding the loss of property brought about by this failing, it did not seem to give him much anxiety, nor break in upon his rest; for when it became neces- sary, and after the bell had been sufficiently pulled, and had become distinctly audible, his innate honesty induced him to provide the means to cause these unwelcome visi- tors to depart in peace at whatever sacrifice, and thus his property was in a gradual process of diminution." Mr. Winston and his wife then lived in the old family mansion in the county of Hanover, in which their lovely daughters and lively sons were born. This old mansion was noted for the magnificent oaks around it, for the old well on the lawn, with its ever cool and refreshing water, overshadowed as it was by two magnificent weeping-wil- lows, which kept off the rays of the sun and caused the old bucket, from the constant dampness which surrounded it, to become in truth, "The moss-covered bucket that hung in the well." Through the avenues and approaches to the house, and all about it, there were hundreds of wild laurel trees, with their ever-green, glossy leaves and pure white flowers, constantly emitting delicious fragrance, and making the atmosphere which pervaded the cheerful rooms redolent with delicate perfume. From these, the old people had given to the homestead the appropriate name of "Laurel Grove." While the young ones were basking in the sunshine of budding affections, tlie old gentleman managed to keep up the place, and with the' help of a little paint, and a few strips of weather-board- ins" here and there, to s-ive the old house an air of cheer- fulness and comfort that invited the young and gay to sociability and enjoyment. But when the older daughters were married, and Mr. Winston's difficulties increased, and the old house began to decay, at the urgent solicita- tion of Mr. Kutherfoord, who had married one of his daughters, he and his wife and two younger daughters,. THE WINSTON FAMILY. 61 removed to Ricliraond and made Mr. Rutlierfoord's house their home. From that time forth, annoyances to the old gentleman from money matters ceased to exist. In Mr. Rutlierfoord's memoranda, he also says that Mrs. Winston was a woman of excellent sense and good manners, and possessed the remains of great beauty. Our business is at present with her, because she is the mother of Mrs. Blair, the Parson's wife, and of a goodly brood of fascinating offspring. We are delighted that in his journey through life the good Parson should liave been blessed with a wife so congenial, whose mother, re- lations and friends were so devoted and kind, in whose society his weary hours were brightened, his relations rendered joyous, and his ministerial career made honor- able and useful. It was our pleasure, in the long, long past, to see old Mrs. Winston ; and though only eight years old when she died, with the aid of the oft repeated descriptions received from her daughters, we imagine that we can accurately recall her appearance. We respected and venerated the very cap that encircled her head, and through which her sweet face shed its radiance around. There is pleasure in the reflection that we were once dandled upon her knee. She lived to see her great-grandchildren playing at her feet, and practised with them what we are play- fully repeating with our own grandchildren, tossing and catching them, to their infinite deliglit. When such per- sons are gathered to their fathers, we experience a mel- ancholy satisfaction, even in looking at the old portrait hanging on the wall, whicli is but their counterpart. Her's is still extant, and the last time we saw it, after tracing the form and features, and dwelling upon the lineaments, we seemed to be looking at one of her daughters, so striking was the resemblance. The fashion of the dress has changed. She is seated as in quiet re- 62 THE TWO PARSONS. pose, listening to the merry conversation of her descen- dants. She is attired in a rich black silk of the olden times. It is an old lady's dress, perfectly plain and sim- ple, without flounces or fnrbelows ; but it enfolds her per- son with perfect ease, and there is not a line to give the appearance of stiffness or pride. The sleeves are not unlike those of the present day ; they cover the arms, but do not constrain the hands, which gracefully lie enfolded in her lap. There is on her neck a thread cambric hand- kerchief, doubled and crossed over her bust, over which is also a half square of spotted black lace, finished at the edge with a rich border. Her head is decorated with a plain book-muslin cap, or rather the head decorates the cap; but however this may be, the cap is drawn closely around her face, with a narrow^ frill in front, a plain black gauze ribbon behind the frill, passing around the head, and tying in a single bow under the chin. Though age has thrown touches of shade in her cheeks, making wrinkles where the roses and lilies used to Ijloom, yet the features indicate still the beauty that lurked beneath in laughing youth. The black eyes, yet a family feature, keep their lustre in the portrait, the expanded brow shows indications of well developed intellect, and the toiit en- semhle exhibits a lady of refinement, grace and modesty. Such were the father and mother of our estimal)le Par- son's wife. "We must retrace our steps to gain some information of those whom we shall sometimes meet in these pages. It has descended to us as part of our family history that old Samuel Jordan, the father of Mrs. Winston, was the first of the name in Virginia. He is mentioned in the Col- onial Kecord, page 9, as bemg one of the delegates from Charles City at the first election of delegates to the first Legislature that assembled in Virginia, in 1619. And it is stated in Smith's History, page 150, that "Siselye Jor- THE WINSTON FAMILY. 63 dan, Mary and Margery Jordan, lived at Jordan'' s Jorney, the same as Jordan's Point, a short distance below City Point, and that after the massacre by the Indians on 22nd March, 1622, many of the inhabitants fortified them- selves against other attacks, and Master Samuel Jordan gathered a few about him at Bigger's Bush (the title of one of Fletcher's comedies), where he fortified." From this oldest of the Jordan's descended Col. Samuel Jordan, who lived in Buckingham county, opposite the Seven Islands in James Piver. He had seven daughters, all of whom married men well-known and of high position in society, to-wit: Mrs. Wm. Cabell, of Union Hill, in ^Nelson; Mrs. John Cabell, of Buckingham; Mrs. .Hugh Rose, of Amherst; Mrs. Irvine, of Buckingham; Mrs. Wyatt, of Lynchburg; Mrs. Hunter, of New York, and Mrs. Winston, of Hanover. They had an only brother. Col. John Jordan, who was wounded in the war of 1812, and was afterwards serjeant-at-arms to the House of Delegates. These sisters were the belles of their day, requiring neitlier ringing nor chiming to make them known. Their personal attractions drew the beaux from all parts of the State, as electricity gathers the summer clouds. The home of their father became the centre from which the flashes of lieauty darted, in whose halls and corridors the smiles of loveliness played, in which mirth and gayety revelled. They were not puffed in paragraphs of the press, as the nobodies of the present day not unfrequently are, as being millionaires. They were not thought of as the possessors 'of wealth ; they were not visited for the expectation of dowry. Each person raised his voice in praise of their beauty, and all were enchanted with their manners, their intelligence, grace, dignity and worth. This is high praise, but it is such as has been handed down from father to son, from mother to daughter from that day to this. 64 THE TWO PARSONS. It was a common thing to hear the gentlemen say, "Where are you going?" "To old Sam Jordan's." It was a very uncommon thing to hear, what are you going for ? If you were going there, you would find more than pictures to please the eye, better than flowers to regale the sense : more than meats and drinks to o;ratify , the palate; better than birds to display gay plumage and fill the groves wath warblings. Tliere were living, animated forms, moving with queenly step, simply and neatly at- tired, from whose velvet lips mellow words escaped with unusual fascination. There were eyes that sparkled, liquid eyes that softened, eyes that shot heart-quakes. There were ringlets whose glossy folds shaded and softened the damask cheek, and when the breezes played among them, let in the sun-light to show the warmth and glow springing from the fresh life of their untroubled hearts. There were smiles that played around and among the dimples, and lingered over the face, to dispel the gloom that might trouble another's brow. There was merry laughter and sparkling wit, and hope and fear and love in that ancestral home. Cupid had a gay time of it, in and about that old mansion. We cannot say that among the many spirits these bright, peculiar stars attracted, there were not disappoint- ments which saddened riven hearts and cast a gloom over despairing souls. This is always the fate of those who enlist under Cupid's banner. How can it be otherwise, when Cupid is blind, and shoots his arrows sometimes at a venture ; they strike right and left, but not unfrequently miss their aim. There is consolation in the thought that love cannot be controlled. We cannot love others merely because they love us. There is a something, an inde- finable feeling, that keeps some hearts asunder — a repul- sion that cannot be conquered; while on the other liand, there are throljs and pulsations that burst bars and bolts, THE WINSTON FAMILY. 65 and defy the powers of earth and air, and iri'esistibly exe- cute the inevitable decree that these twain shall be one. We have given this leaf of family history to show what a bevy of aunts and uncles Mrs. Blair possessed, and in what a wide circle of relatives she moved. When we shall hear her hereafter talking of Aunt Wyatt, and Aunt Irvine, and Aunt Rose, and quoting the sayings and doings of Uncle Hunter, Uncle Will, and Uncle John Cabell, we shall have some idea of whom she is talking. When she begins to descant upon high descent and blood, and makes out her pedigree, as she is sure to do when her sisters and brother Jordan disparage any of them, we shall not be surprised to hear the good Parson exclaim- ing, after his humorous fashion, "Well, well, well, dear me!'' But it is time to return to tlic more immediate family group of Winstons. If we cast our eyes into the dim distance of the past, we can see old Isaac Winston, with his exceedingly bald head. Baldness was a trait, a never- failing personal characteristic by which the males of this family have ever been distinguished. It is a remarkable fact, that not only will hair not grow on the top of their heads, but even wigs in a very short time have a dingy, half-burnt look, and becjome very thin in spite of the free use of cosmetics. This old Isaac had two sons, Wm. Essex and Isaac the second. Wm. Essex was the father of Geddes; and Isaac was, therefore, the uncle of Geddes. It so happened that Isaac, with a few sprinkles of grey liair on his head, was reclining on the bench in the old porch at Laurel Grove on a very hot day in midsummer, while his nephew, Geddes, was sitting on an opposite bench, with as round a head as ever was seen, and as slick as ice. Geddes has his back to the wall, his knees drawn up to the height of his chin, and his hands with lingers interlaced over the knees. In these comfortable positions 66 THE TWO PARSONS. both of these gentlemen appear, in then- shirtsleeves, and have just been settling the affairs of the nation. After some time, Geddes said, "Uncle Isaac, I wish yon wonld trace out for me the relationship between Patrick Henry and my father." "Let me see," says Isaac, putting his right forefinger on his left thumb, and moving on from finger to finger as he counted ; " there is William, Isaac, Anthony, Lucy, Mary and Sarah;" or rather, to tell it as he did, "there is Billy, Ike, Tony, Luly, Molly and Sally." He made no remark about Tony. "I am proud of Billy," he said; "they have nicknamed him Langaloo, and he is pretty nearly, if not quite, equal to Patrick; but I think Patrick knocks the black out of him sometimes. Patrick, when he speaks, stirs the boys so that I've seen them jump up and crack their heels together, and slam their caps on the ground and stamp them. I have seen a fellow, under Patrick's inspiration, seize another by the collar and wheel him around off his feet for no other assignable cause than that inspiration, and the other hardly conscious what he was doing. Billy, you see, don't come up to that quite ; but I have heard him speak on election days, and he would roll his rich words into the crowd until the very hair would stand on my head, and I would cry like a baby." Uncle Isaac skipped the other sisters, and said : " Sally, she first married John Syme, of Petersburg, and secondly. Col. John Henry, who was the father of Patrick, the first constitutional governor of Virginia. Some of old Isaac's blood courses through all of your veins. But I tell them all, 'handsome is as handsome does.'" We cannot pause to fill up all the gaps, for in this restless, roving, ever-moving, never-tiring population, they are as Uncle Toby said, " Here to-day and gone to- morrow." To-day they are whacking down primeval forests, living in log cabins with mud chimneys — imitat- THE WINSTON FAMILY. 67 ing dirt-daubers; to-morrow, in the city, vieing with nabobs, roUing in carriages, surrounded with velvets, silks, tapestry, and all such paraphernalia; then pushing onward for new lands — liunting for the place where the sun sets. The generations are scattered, and natural marks lost and forgotten. They are driven from the old hives, and if new gums are not provided, will clean out hollow trees and make new honey in the wild woods. We cannot avoid adding of this Sally Winston, daugh- ter of Isaac, and mother of Patrick Henry, what Wil- liam Wirt says of her in his life of Henry : " She pos- sessed in an eminent degree the mild and benevolent disposition, the undeviating probity, the correct under- standing, and easy elocution, by which that ancient family has been so long distinguished. Her brother, William, (Langaloo,) the father of the present Judge Winston, is said to have been highly endowed with that peculiar cast of eloquence for which Mr. Henry became afterwards so justly celebrated." Mr. Pope, our old friend Billy Pope, of Powhatan,. says : " I have often heard my father, who was intimately acquainted with this Wm. Winston, say, that he was the greatest orator he ever heard — Patrick Henry excepted." We now come back to Geddes Winston, and as we are able to tell of his family, we shall tell it in our own w^ay. We can count on our fingers, and use rather more of them than old Isaac did, and shall have to take both hands to do it. " Let me see," as old Isaac said. There was Rebecca, the oldest, who married Wm. Kadford, of the county of Goochland; Samuel Jordan Winston, who w^as named after his grandfather, Samuel Jordan. It is curious to see what assistance you wall obtain in tracing genealogies by the names parents give their children. He lived an old bachelor, and was constantly pretending he was looking for that nice little widow whO' 68 THE TWO PARSONS. promised him her hand and heart. But we have heard him say in a semi-stage whisper, " what fools these old fellows are, who, with one foot in the grave and the other out, expect a young girl to be picking up shrivelled turnips, as they are, and hunting for fresh blood there." But he would add aloud, "Don't tell tlie girls I say so." Then there was Mary, the wife of our good Parson Blair. We call him good, and cannot help it, for he M'as, and deserved the reiteration. There was Sarah, the wife of Thomas Rutherfoord, wlio was a father among our fathers ; and we will add, for we know of what we speak, a father to the fatherless. Margaret and Martha, the two youngest, were called by all their cotemporaries Peggy and Patsy. The first married Dr. John Adams, and the last Captain Henry S. Shore. Besides these, there was a younger son, William, who was a doctor, and practised his profession with con- siderable success in the counties of Hanover and Louisa. He married a Miss Shelton. We cannot be satisfied, how^ever, with this summary process of dismissing the brothers and sisters, w'ith the simple enunciation of their names. They we?-e the wit- nesses upon whom we rely for the incidents we give of our " Two Parsons." " Were,^'' did we say ? Yes ; they are all gone now, and there are not many left who can describe their appearance, much less relate their interest- ing conversations. Of Samuel Jordan Winston, we take the liberty to quote from Mr. Rutherfoord's memoranda, to which we have before referred : " He was the eldest son of Geddes Winston; was born about 1766; was a very handsome young man, distinguished for his good temper and agree- able manners; and although he had not the advantage of a liberal education, or of having been brought up to any regular profession, was a most pleasant companion; of THE WINSTON FAMILY. 69 great ease of manner, without forwardness; of line ad- dress, good temper and sociable habits." He was univer- sally known throughout eastern Virginia as old Major Winston; but he spurned the epithet olrl. He was Brigade-Major and Military-Instructor of the Militia for a great number of years. He possessed in perfection the imagination to conceive, and the faculty to describe and portray, in veri-similitude, the most laughable and mirth- stirring anecdotes, composed of real incidents in every- day life, so blended and interwoven with the figments of his fancy, that you could not tell where reality com- menced or fancy ended. He was a born story-teller, with the talent to vary the minuti;^ after repetition, which gave his stories the charm of novelty, and caused him to be always encored, even by those who had listened to them greedily over and over again. He knew how to adapt his anecdotes to the company and the circumstances by which he was surrounded. He saw things on their funny side, and could extract amusement where others saw nothing but melanchol}^, and his descriptions defied competition. While no gravity could keep its counte- nance, and no composure fail to yield to the merriment his thoughts and language would elicit, his countenance was imperturbable. One of the charms about him was, that his manner indicated implicit belief in all the cir- cumstantial details and most extravagant exaggerations his fertile fancy would playfully fabricate. He never said a harsh word of any one, nor uttered an unkind re- mark to wound the most sensitive feeling. There was something in his stories rather " too high," as we would say of venison when it has been hanging too long; but epicures relish such venison, and delight in the flavor. He, himself, would say, " I would not shock brother Blair or brother Buchanan with this kind of refinement " — winking at the word "refinement" — "nor would I de- "70 THE TWO PARSONS. sire to tell jokes from the pulpit; but when the boys want a little merriment after a long military drill, it re- lieves the tedium, and keeps them in good humour until the bu2;le sounds to horse." His stories would relieve any man from a lit of the blues. In the latter part of his life he was getting too far advanced for active employment, and Laurel Grove, his old home, had put up more chinquapin and whortleberry bushes, more sassafras and persimmon grubs, than he •could well subdue, and the wheat and oats were thin, and corn rather scarce in the crib. But before " the years drew nigh when he might say, I have no pleasure in them," the Legislature came to the rescue, and he was ap- pointed by the House of Delegates its sergeant-at-arms. With stately step and military air he would ever and anon, with dignity becoming the situation, proclaim, " Si- lence in the lobby!" The truth was, on such occasions he generally intended saying, "Silence in the House;" but from respect to the Speaker, whose duty it was to preserve order there, he would cast the censure on the lobby. Rebecca Winston, the eldest daughter, was a frank, cheerful lady, and at the time of which we write possessed much of the freshness of youth. She resembled her mother in face and person more than any of the sisters, and had a good deal of her brother Jordan's talent for description and anecdote. There were few children she could not attract by telling them incidents of the Revolutionary war. She married Wm. Radford, of the county of Gooch- land, who afterwards moved to Richmond, and for some time resided in the large frame building, with a two- storied portico in front, which then stood on the corner of Grace and First streets, on the square at pre- sent owned by Mr. James Thomas, and which he has con- verted into handsome houses for his sons-in-law. Mr. THE WINSTON FAMILY. 71 Radford was at one time joint-owner with Mr. Ruther- foord of the Albion Mills, in Richmond, and subsequently became the proprietor and manager of the Eagle Tavern in its palmy days. Mr. Radford, when a mere boy, in the seventeenth year of his age, while on a visit to Mr. Win- ston's family, at Laurel Grove, had gone with the crowd to Hanover Courthouse to hear one of Patrick Henry's great speeches. Henry was urging his hearers to rise against the English, rush to arms, save their liberties, and never be contented until their independence was se- cured. Such was the eifect produced that a company was instantly formed, which Radford joined against the will of his mother. In spite of her urgent entreaties, he could not be persuaded to return. In the celebrated raid of General Tarlton to Charlottes- ville, which he made with the design of capturing tlie Governor (Mr. Jefferson) and the Legislature of Virginia, Radford, and a part of the company to which lie belonged, were captured and sent as prisoners to England, where they were confined in the Tower of London. After hav- ing been imprisoned there for a long time, neglected and forgotten, he and his comrades, with a great deal of in- genuity and perseverance, managed to escape, and suc- ceeded in o;ettinai; across the Eno'lish channel to France. They were treated with tlie utmost hospitality by Lafay- ette, and furnished with ample funds to enable them to return to Virginia. When he reached his former home he found it unin- habited and desolate, and not having received any intelli- gence from his mother, and obtaining no information about her, he visited Laurel Grove with the intention of tracing her, through the instrumentality of her old friend, Mrs. Winston. There he ascertained that she had mar- ried a gentlem.an by the name of Prather, from the State •of Maryland, and had gone with him to live upon the 72 THE TWO PARSONS. land given to lier sister and herself by her father. This, her father's old homestead, was situated in the county of Tyler, now in West Virginia, and was the site upon which the town of Sistersville was subsequentl}'' located. This town derived its name from these two sisters. He heard, too, that his mother had a son since her marriage with Prather, and since the birth of that son had removed to the State of Maryland and died there; he could hear no- thing further about her after diligent inquiry. At Laurel Grove he became acquainted with Miss Rebecca Winston,, and subsequently married her. Our readers are thus in possession of information ne- cessary to make them acquainted wdth Mrs. Radford, Mrs. Blair's sister, and will understand the connection ex- isting between these families, as they shall be referred to in subsequent chapters. There are other links in the chain we are weaving Avhich we must endeavour to describe. The third daughter, Sallie, deserves more than a passing notice. The devotion of these sisters to each other so continually threw them and their families together in most intimate relations, that we cannot speak of one without in .some measure alluding to the others. Their husbands and our good Parsons were so friendly and cordial in their intercourse, that when any circumstance is related of one, the others are necessarily involved, and the circle is not complete without their presence. We will permit Mr. Rutherfoord, who knew her best, to speak of her in his own words : " When I first knew^ her," he says, " about the beginning ^ of the year 1787, she was in her eighteenth year, of deli- cate and extremely interesting appearance, and much ad- mired for the sweetness of her manners, which were rather too retiring to attract general notice. At this time, how- ever, in her ow^n neighborhood, she was a belle, and a good deal courted. She possessed a sweetness of voice THE WINSTON FAMILY. 73 which enabled her on many occasions to delight ns with her exquisite music. Her placid and agreeable manners did not fail to interest me, and perhaps the more because I saw she was not in the enjoyment of full health. I suppose I did my best to render myself agreeable to her, as she always appeared pleased with my attentions ; and it soon became evident that I was more attracted to her than to any other female of my acquaintance. Our inti- macy and seeming mutual attachment, became therefore a subject of rather general notice amongst our acquaint- ances, whilst as yet no profession or propositions of love had passed our lips. I was uncertain whether, after visit- ing my friends and the land of my birth, I should again be enabled to return to this country on such terms as to induce me to take up my abode in it ; I therefore felt myself restrained from making any declaration of love, or soliciting a return, and she, 'conscious of worth that would be wooed, and not unsought, be won,' of course was also silent." It is amusing to listen to the accounts of our ancestors- when telling of their loves, but we cannot go into the par- ticulars of this courtship. Mr. Rutherfoord, as we have- seen, speaks of visiting his friends in the land of his birth,, and this affords an opportunity of saying that he was born in Glasgow, in Scotland, on the 9th of January,, 1766, and came over to Virginia to engage in mercantile pursuits at the early age of eighteen. He was sent out by his friends with a cargo of goods of various descrij> tions, amounting in value to ten thousand pounds sterling, entrusted entirely to himself to manage, the cargo being mostly on their own account. Suffice it to say, he met with varying success, until at last he entered business on his own account, and commenced the purchase of tobacco,, carrying on a large wholesale mercantile establishment 5 Y4 THE TWO PARSONS. besides, and laid the foundation for the fortune he after- wards acquired. We will return, however, and permit Mr. Rutherfoord to unfold to us the way in whicli the people of his day entered into a matrimonial engagement. He says, " At last I was emboldened to make a declaration of my love. This happened when we were paying a visit in a carriage. Of course it took a great many words to express all I had to say," and as happens nine times in ten, the expression of all this brought him to the place to which he was go- ing before he could even expect a reply. After the ice was broken, he waited on her at her father's, and she re- ceived him with much kindness ; without finally commit- ting herself, she referred him to her mother, who left him at liberty to ingratiate himself with the daughter and the rest of the family. And after all this he says : " The ardour of my attachment drew from my beloved the con- fession of a mutual flame." The happy day was fixed for the 21st of August, 1790, and during the interval he spent the time with her at Laurel Grove. " At length the happy day arrived ; the nuptial knot was tied by our good and worthy friend, the Rev. Mr. Blair, in the pre- sence of many of the friends and connections of the family, and also of Mr. and Mrs. William Hay, of Richmond, who had been long acquainted with our mutual passion, and now participated in our joy." Thus, with the assistance of one of them, we have in- troduced two more of this family circle to our readers. And we must still further invoke that assistance, for we find in his memoranda the follow^ing paragraph : " Besides her, there were two younger daughters, Patsy and Peggy, the one about four and the other six years younger than their sister, Sally, both promising to be handsome and agreeable, as they turned out to be. In truth, I do not THE WINSTON FAMILY. T5 know whether I ever saw a handsomer woman than Patsy was when she arrived at her prime." We have said elsewhere that these two sisters came with their parents to live at Mr. Rutherfoord's house, and, therefore, his ac- count of them is more reliable than any other we could give. "About March, 1795, the marriage of Miss Patsy Winston with Mr. Henry S. Shore took place at my house. I have said before she was a most promising- girl. As she advanced to womanhood her disposition and manners kept pace with the beauty of her person. Kever have I seen a more striking beauty than she was at the time of her marriage. As the sweetness of her disposition developed, I took such an interest in her that I scarcely knew a man whom I thought worthy of her." Mr. Shore held the position of both Recorder and Mayor of the city of Richmond, and was also Captain of the Richmond Blues, as we shall see hereafter from a cor- respondence between Parson Blair and himself. We are going through with our introduction to the Winston family, and their large circle of connections and friends. Mr. Rutherfoord is a good witness, and though what the lawyers would term a swift witness, on account of his bias and natural partiality, yet a true and faithful one, in whom all contidence may be placed. "Some- where in the month of January, 1799, Dr. John Adanig was married to our sister, Peggy, (identifying himself so far with his wife as to call her sister — ' our sister.') This marriage was greatly to our satisfaction, for we regarded him as a gentleman every way worthy of her, and having the fairest prospects before him. A remarkable circum- stance occurred on this occasion for which I have never been able to account. An eight-day clock which I had imported from Liverpool soon after my marriage, and which had been frequently out of order, and had not been 76 THE TWO PARSONS. going for some time, suddenly, and just when Dr. Adams and one of his friends came into the house for the celel)ra- tion of his marriage, struck, and continued sti'iking about two hundred times or more, when it ceased, leaving us to wonder at the phenomenon." No man possessed greater influence or wielded more energetic authority than did Dr. Adams when he was a member of the city council and the honored mayor of the city, for a number of years. He secured an extremely efficient police, and became the terror of evil-doers in the mayor's court. He undertook the thorough grading of the streets, levelling hills, tilling up valleys, and giving it the appearance of a live city. He gave an impetus to its docks and wharves, and commenced those wonderful im- provements in its buildings in all the eastern portion of the city, which have shown their effects from that day tO' this. He was the proprietor and builder of the Union hotel, and many of the largest warehouses and manu- factories, and inaugurated lines of stages to every part of the State. Few men ever exhibited, for his means and opportunities, more enlarged views and gi-eater enter- prise. He was a gentleman, moving in the first circle of society, and his large family was one of the centres of attraction in the city. There was another brother of these sisters, whom we cannot omit; this was Dr. William Winston, the second and youngest son of Geddes. In his earlier days his education had been a good deal neglected. As he ad- vanced in life, how^ever, he not only exhibited a strong desire for the study "of medicine, but thenceforward de- voted himself assiduously to its acquisition as a profes- sion. He attended the medical lectures in Philadelphia, graduated there, and afterwards practised his profession with considerable success in the counties of Hanover and. THE WIJSrSTON FAMILY. 77 Louisa. His memory is cherished in many of the best families, as their physician, in whose skill great reliance was placed. We have thus prepared our bark to take on its cargo and crew any where, and with such friends we may push our boat to any harbour with entire satisfaction. CHAPTER y. THE MARRIAGE OF JEMMY WINSTON. PARSON BLAIR and his wife were cosily seated together, when she asked : "' How are you going to Hanover? You promised, you know, to marry Jemmy Winston and Phcebe Overton at Pole Green meeting- house day after-to-morrow, but your horse is too lame to travel. I am anxious to go witli you, to pay a visit to brother Jordan. Can't you borrow a horse and' buggy ?" "Well; I hate to borrow," said the good man; "and Remus may get over his lameness." " Paris says there is something more than lameness the matter with the horse. I'm sure," she said, " our friend Mr. Gibson will lend you his horse and buggy, particu- lai'ly when he knows you want the horse for your wife. When he reflects you are a parson, he will lend him with- out hesitation. Besides," she added, "if he does not intend to use him, it will be an accommodation to him to have the horse taken care of and regularly fed. At any rate, he will lend him to you as a friend." " Dear, dear, dear, better reasons were never assigned. It is an accommodation to the owner to lend his horse to everybody to have him fed and attended to. I am a parson, and it will pay for the preaching; and when a lady's in the case, all other things give place. Well, well, well, I'll make the effort." So, in a little while, he sent the following note to Mr. Patrick Gibson, his friend and neighbor : the marriage of jemmy wijstston. 79" " Dear Sir : " We're going to ' see the world ' — of course Our first enquiry's for a horse. My wife, expert at calculation, And cunning in negotiation. Suggests that you, from impulse pious, Will, at a word, with this supply us, By reason (just to urge the 'farce on,') That she's my wife and I'm a parson. Forgetful that these Sabbath-day-men Are held as nothing by the laymen. But then, as seldom she's inclined on Surrendering what she sets her mind on, And never at a loss, in season, For urgent and conclusive reason, She added, if you do not need him. You'll gain by having not to feed him. Both reasons, then, are set before you. To try which has most influence o'er you. If you shall think the last the Ijetter, Then send the horse, and be our debtor ; But if you're of a different mind. And wholly to your interest blind, Take your own way at last, and lend Just purely to oblige a friend. "Yours, J. D. B." Mr. Gibson not only sent -the horse, but a handsome buggy; and man and wife, in pleasant mood, wended their way to the old church in Hanover, where the marriage cei-emony was to be performed at twelve o'clock. The invitations were very general, and couched in the following terms: "Mr. James Winston and Miss Phoibe Overton will be married at Pole Green Meeting-house on Wednesday next, at 12 o'clock. After the ceremony, 80 THE TWO PAKSONS. reception at Mrs. Overton's. Glad to see you." Mr. Jemmy Winston was the son of old Isaac's son Tony, whom we heard of in our fourth chapter, and, therefore, was Mrs. Blair's cousin. He w^as a young farmer, well enough to do — had a pretty fair farm, with everything about it clean and neat — gates in order, fences repaired, garden well weeded, vegetables growing as if to be eaten by a bride, and even on the parlour mantle a vase of flowers, as if fixed by a lady's hand. The truth was, Jemmy had some old family servants given him by his father ; and being industrious and having some taste, he, with their assistance, had brought things about him in man-of-war shape — "a place for everything, and everything in its place." Jemmy's old mammy, too, having a pride in fixing up for "young mistis," had gathered some white and red roses^ and white jessamine, and fixed them quite tastefully in the old flower pots. The bridal chamber, though everything was very plain, looked as clean and tidy as a new pin ; and Jemmy had even bought a new mirror for the bureau, for he thought to himself, " Phoebe is right down pretty, and will like to show herself off to the best advantage, and will take pleasure in smoothing her hair. There is no necessity," said Jemmy, " to be pinching cheeks or biting lips, for ' they are like rubies — all rubies above.' They have been tinged by the fresh air of the morning, where the dew and the first dawn of sunlight can kiss them. The pores of the skin have not been filled with powders and starch, but the blood courses under the skin in a healthy current, and when a blush comes, the cheek fairly burns." Jemmy was a merry farmer, lived in the neighljor- hood of old Major Winston, and had many a hearty laugh with him listening to his jokes; was full of fun and innocent mischief, and was much beloved. "Miss THE MARRIAGE OF JEMMY WINSTON. 81 Phoeb," as he called her, was his "pet lamb," and his friends knew her by that name. She was plump, rosy and as full of merriment as he ; was the only daug-hter of Mrs. Overton, an old friend of the Winston family, and Jemmy and herself had a hankering for each other for several years. She possessed not a particle of coquetry, and ^when Jemmy asked her to marry him, in a half joking, half earnest way, she replied : " When you have made up your mind. Jemmy, I'll make up mine." "Done," says Jemmy. "Done," said Plicebe. Courtships are queer things. They are sometimes fanciful in the extreme. You are travelling a road full of cross roads and branches leading in every direction, and do what you will, you are almost certain to take the wrong one. The first thing you know, you come right up against a fai-m gate, and you see, beyond perad- venture, that you have lost your way. You back out with the greatest difficulty, turn and twist about, this way and that, and before you know whether you are right or wrong, find an immense tree fallen down across the road ; in fact, evidently cut to obstruct the way. You back out again, and determine to return to the place at which you took the wrong road, when, before you get there, you perceive another, wliich you are induced to take because there are tracks which look fresh and newly travelled ; and you trot along, around and about, without further impediment, until first one object, then another, appears familiar. So completely have you been bewildered that you are uncertain whether you have ever seen them be- fore ; V»ut on and on you go, until, without knowing how, you find yourself at your own barn. All this time your lady-love is getting up and going to the window, then sitting and trying to read, without the power to do so, believing that she is uncared for and neglected. 82 THE TWO PARSONS. This was not the case however with Jemmy and Phoebe. " Done," says Jemmy ; " Done," says Ph(X^be, and the com- pany were invited and the Parson was on the way to make them both very happy, simply because each of them uttered the same word at the same time. Sister Blair said, "She must call and see brother Jor- dan. It would never do to pass him by. She wanted to see ' Laurel Grove,' too. She had not been at ' Laurel Grove ' since her father's death. It was the place where she was born. Brother Jordan was a confirmed old bachelor, and she wished to see whether he was com- fortable." The Parson said, "It is getting late. I am afraid Jemmy and Phfjebe would make faces at each other if they had to wait." "It won't hurt them," she said; "and there' is brother Jordan sitting in the old porch. I know he is waiting for us. There stands his horse — of course he is going to the wedding." "Mar}'," said the Parson, "I always did say you could give more reasons to carry your point than any woman in Christendom." And he drove through the open gate. Jordan said, " I have been looking: for vou all the morn- ing. I expected you to breakfast. Get out, sister." " Old bachelors' breakfasts !" said Parson Blair. " Peach and honey, and then honey and peach. Falstaif's bread and sack, but more sack than bread." " Fried chub," said the Major. "New eggs, fresh but- ter and cream right out of the well, where we keep it cool; good bread, and p'each and honey to boot." " I'll take them now," said the Parson ; " I never re- fuse fresh cliub." " Brother," said sister Blair, " I'd rather have one of your best melons out of the well — the fish is cold." THE MARRIAGE OF JEMMY WINSTON. 83^ " Not at all," said the Major, " I was just going to have the chub for a snack." " Bi'other Blair can have the chub, and I'll give you a melon hard to l)eat." He said, " I'll have the horse fed, and we Mali let Jemmy wait." He called out in a military tone, " Frank."^ " Yes, sir." " Heads up, eyes right. Feed that horse. Quick ! March !" And, resuming the thread of his discourse, " They don't jump broom-sticks here. Wait for the Par- son, wait for the word, Amen. Jemmy is a lucky dog," said the Major. Then, looking in the dining-room, said, " Here's the chub, caught since sunrise, fluttering in the pan, kicking on the table. Fit for a king or any parson. Come, sister. How is Becky, and Sally, and Patsy, and Peggy ? How is brother Buck ? Good old fellow ! Up to snuff with anybody, and don't hesitate to say ' mind your pints ^. I thought he Would have come along ; kept the peacli and honey for him ; Brother Blair don't like it." The Parson ate the chub, while the Major hauled up a basket out of the well containing one of the largest melons that ever was raised in the county of Hanover, and of all the counties in the State, Hanover seems to be better adapted to the growth and perfection of watermelons and canteloups than any other. It has been notorious from generation to generation ; the masters know, the negroes know, how to manure the land, how to work the melons, when they are precisely ripe, and the necessity of keeping them cool as the coldest water will make them. Simms' watermelons, and Jones' and Carter's melons cannot be surpassed. We remember, in our boyhood, the water- melon carts in August, covered with thick-leaved limbs, passing through the streets, and how we rejoiced to hear- cried : 84 THE TWO PAESONS. " Fine watev millions^ fresh and fine, Jnst from the vine ; Blaclv seed, red meat, Full of juice, and so sweet. Those who have money, come up and buy, Those who have none, stand off and cry. y^?itev millions, ini\&kmillio?i6; very nice." "I have a (iouple more,"' said brother Jordan, (cutting open the huge mekm and revealing the most delicious meat, full of juice,) "a couple more to take with you on your return. Carry them to sister Becky and sister SaWy. I wish I had something better to seud.'' " When I marry the widow Marron," said brother Jor- dan, "you will all have to come out here to make the roost fit for two. But," said he, " I rather think, sister, her roost will be better tlian mine. Peach and honey both grow there; l)ut I defy her to beat the A\''inston melons." In the meantime the entire company who were expected had assembled at the church, except the Parson and his wife and Major Winston. Jemmy had become exceed- ingly fidgety, walking up and down the church aisle, go- ing to the door, looking down the road, and finally he lost his spirits, however merry he was inclined to be. He went under a tree and sat in a cart, followed by his groomsmen. " Now," said he, " this is some of Major Winston's devilment. I'll bet he has let the Parson's horse get out of the stable. Suppose I was to send Phosbe word I had changed my mind ! That pet lamb !" said he, in a pity- ing tone. The truth was, the thought that she might change ker^s was in his mind. " I'll take her off your hands," said Thom Wingfield. "You?" cried Jemmy. "There is not a man in this THE MARRIAGE OF JEMMY WINSTON. 85' crowd can do it." He said it in a pleasant tone, indicat- ino; his entire confidence in Phcfbe. Some of them went and repeated what he said to one of the bridesmaids, and she repeated it to Phoebe. "Tell him," said she, langhing ; "he'd better not be too certain. Some people have two strings to their bow." And the message went straight to the cart. Jemmy jnmped npon the nearest horse tied to the fence, and rode down the road as swift as the horse conld carry him. He made up his mind to ride to Major Winston's, and hunt him up at least, believing the Parson was there. They told Phoebe, Jemmy had gone oif in a fury as soon as he heard what she said. " I am not afraid of Jemmy, nor is he afraid of me," she said, perfectly calm. " We know each other like a l:)ook." He had scarcely got out of sight, when he met the Major, and saw the Parson in the buggy close behind. Wheeling his horse, he went back like mad, without saying a word to either. His heart was full. He dismounted, tied the horse, went to the church door, and said: "Phoebe, they are coming." The little heart pit-a-patted ; there was a crimson blush, and she made her fan flutter. Jemmy's spirits rose as high as the quick-silver could go. " How are you, Ma- jor ?" " You are late. Parson," said Jemmy. " Cousin Molly, did you keep them back ?" " No," said Parson Blair ; " you are only in a hurry. Jemmy. You have not acquired the patience of Job yet, but you have got the pet lamb at last, and you will l)e happy." "When you fix the noose," said Jemmy. They hurried the Parson direct to the chancel. Brother Jordan led sister Molly to old Mrs. Overton, and he went up to Phcebe, and said: "Is this Jemmy's pet lamb?" Another crimson blush suffused the entire face. " You had better take me," said the Major. She tapped ^6 THE TWO PARSONS, him with her fan. Phoebe never loolved better in her life. In her white robes and modest veil, without affec- tation, she looked her best, and everybody said she was one of the sweetest brides they ever saw. Jemmy, from his excitement and his ride, had brightened up exceed- ingly; and when she placed her arm in his, and they walked up the isle, followed by the groomsmen and bridesmaids, neatly and tastefully dressed, two and two together, it was a pleasant sight. We have them at last close up to the Parson; the church full; no organ to peel forth the grand entre, "Behold the conquering hero comes." In consequence of the delay, no time had been af- forded for preliminary questions, and Parson Blair, with his usual solemnity and gravity, addressing Mr. Winston, said: "I presume you have the marriage license?" " Oh, yes," says Jemmy ; and fumbling in his pockets, first in his pantaloons, and then in his vest, without finding it, lie finally drew from the inside of his coat his pocket book, tied with a green tape string; and putting the end of the string in his mouth, opened the book, and handed the Parson a paper neatly folded. The good man imme- diately opened the paper, and running his eyes over it, blandly smiled. " Did the clerk of the court issue this paper as a mar- riage license ?" said Parson Blair, in a solemn tone, with a slight twinkle of the eye in the direction of his brother- in-law. Major Winston. "Yes, sir," said Jemmy; "he certainly did." " I am sure," said the Parson, " it is all right, but I would not be justified in marrying a couple under the State law with such a license." And he read aloud: " Mr. White will please deliver to Mr. James Winston my pet ewe lamb. Thomas Oveebt." " Stop," says Jemmy ; " that's not it," talking with the THE MAKRIAGE OF JEMMY WINSTON. 87 string still between his teeth, and hunting among a num- ber of receipts and other papers. Major Winston immediately stepped up to Jemmy's side, and held out to him a small bottle of aromatic salts, to prevent his fainting. "No occasion, Major," says Jemmy. "Ah! here is the license." The Major gave the military salute, raising his hand to his forehead, with the palm to the front, and resumed his position in line. It was simply impossible not to laugh. The bride tittered; the company were convulsed with merriment. Jemmy, for the first time in liis life, lost his self-possession. Everybody knew he called his intended his pet lamb. The truth was, he had bought Mr. Over- by's pet ewe lamb as a fancy, associating the lamb with his sweetheart, and intending it as a present to her. When the lamb order was replaced, and the pocket book retied. Jemmy regained his confidence, and the Parson assumed his wonted gravity, which had been mo- mentarily disconcerted. The Parson then proceeded with the ceremony according to the usual form adopted by the Presbyterian clergy. We do remember an exceptional form of pi'ayer ut- tered by one of the shining lights of the Church, who in his simplicity prayed that they miglit always have their lamps trinnned and their bread-baskets full. Instead of tliis formula, the Parson having put up a fervent prayer to the Almighty for temporal and spiritual blessings, pronounced the benediction, and then said to the groom : " Salute your bride." Jennny obeyed the injunction with a will. Major Winston cried out: "Attention! keep your eye on the fugleman." He then followed Jemmy's example, and all the rest went through the manual after the fashion of the fugleman. Jemmy had a handsome turnout for the bride, and 88 THE TWO PARSONS. helping her into his carriage, and then Mrs. Overton, who- was insisting upon Mrs. Blair's returning to the reception? he jumped in himself, and with prancing steeds, gaily caparisoned, they rolled away, and the merry-making- company followed, as chance should guide, without re- spect to the order of their going. Marriages, as a general thing, only occur once in a life- time, and it is natural on such occasions to put the big pot into the little one ; in fact, after placing everything in the neatest possible order, to turn them upside down for the sake of the frolic; and girls and boys in the country like of all things to whirl each other round and round until their heads are giddy, (they did not dance the "German" in those days); the fiddler enjoys the fun,, rosins his bow, gives his elbow additional oil, and makes- his fiddle talk. The cook heats her furnace many times hotter, and wrings off the heads of her victims merely to keep up the flutter. The law^n is full of every imagin- able style of vehicle, from the tumbril to the chaise, and horses are neighing, and mules — we do not know a word to express their vociferation, but, in a language between the German and the Russian, they wheeze forth an un- earthly laugh. This exuberance of animal spirits is some- times the result of eating fruit in its distilled form — apples and peaches, for example — or from simply imbib- ing the expressed juice of grapes, or by resurrecting old- John Barleycorn after the manner of Burns: " They took a plough and ploughed him down,, Put clods upon his head, And they hae sworn a solemn oath, John Barleycorn was dead. But genial spring came trooping on, And showers began to fall, John Barleycorn got up again. And sore surprised them all." THE MARRIAGE OF JEMMY WIKSTON. 89 Jemmy had a tearing down wedding, and when the Parson and Sister Blair left them, about an hour before sundown, Major Winston had a select coterie around him, giving in his experience about his courtship with the widow Marron, and Jemmy and the boys shouted until the hills re-echoed with their merriment. When Parson Blair arrived at home, he sent old Paris with the horse and buggy to Mr. Gil)son, with the follow- ing note: " I now send back, kind sir, your horse, And as I hope, in naught the worse. Save as the truth I can't conceal, I own he sweated a good deal ; But then, I think, the cause of that Was that the horse was over fat. And that kind nature, by depletion, Thus counteracted inflammation. My celebrated horse, old Remus, Of the horse-kind, sans doute, supreiaiis^ Can carry me from morn till night. And still remain in driest plight ; Por as he is a Parson's horse. The poor thing's diet's scant, of course'; We judge, and the conclusion's fair. That he has not much juice to spare. N. B. — This to a neii^hbor and a friend In strictest confidence I send ; Show you it not, 'twill never do To be a priest and poet too. "J. D. B." The day after the marriage, the bridal party came into the city for a frolic, and Parson Blair received the follow- ing note from the groom : G 90 THE TWO PARSONS. "The Rev. J. D. Blair: " Dear Sir : You tied the Gordian knot so handsomely, and I am so well pleased Avith my pet lamb, notwith- standing the Lamb order, that I send the enclosed as a remembrancer and fee. " Yery truly your friend, "James Winston." Thereupon Parson Blair immediately dispatched the following to Parson Buchanan : "Dear Brother: " I have just received twenty dollars as a fee for marry- ing Jemmy Winston. To settle tliat old-standing fee account between us, I have tnade the necessary entries, and I am gratified to find the account is now precisely balanced. J. D. B." Answer : "The Rev. J. D. Blair: " I am delighted to hear it. I was afraid the necessary entries would entrench upon your fee. I know you are a first-rate accountant. " Sincerely, J. B." About a week after the poetical note to Mr. Gibson, though the injunction was "show you it not," that gentle- man read it to his friend, Mr. Alexander Fulton, of ^' Mount Erin," who stored in his memory the couplet — " For, as he is a parson's horse. The poor thing's diet's scant, of course." As soon as he reached his country seat, he sent Parson Blair as a present a wagon load of clover hay. The idea of having a load of hay without a horse to THE MARRIAGE OF JEMMY WINSTON. 91 eat it (for Remus had died since his return home) amused the good man, and smiling at his own thoughts, he said : ^'He is so kind, I sliould not be surprised if he should send a horse to eat it." He sat down and indited the following : "To A. Fulton, Esq. : '"'■ Mo%i7it Erin, near' Richmond : " Accept my thanks, sir, ten times over. For your wagon load of clover ; To you I'll make amends for that By covering my horse with fat ; That is to say, when I get one, For at the present I have none, Which makes my obligation stronger, Because the hay will last the longer; However, I am looking out. And always keep my eyes about. To find a steed I tnink will suit For riding, and the gig to boot. I ever was, and still will be. Your friend and servant, J. D. B." Answer : " Wednesday Night. ^' To the E-ev. John D. Blair : " Dear Sir : "Your note of thanks I just have got, Beturning from my fields, quite hot; Amends I seek not for my clover ; Those you have made me ten times over. My wife and children, night and day, Prompt me for J. D. B. to pray. I wish I had a handsome steed To suit your reverence, now in need. 92 THE TWO PARSONS. Should such a nag come in my view, Doubt not, my friend, I'll think of you. Believe me, without pro or con^ Your humble servant, A. Fulton." And when Parson Blair read the reply, he said " Well, well, well, I was not far WTong, — " For if a good nag he should see, Of course, kind man, he'll think of me." CHAPTEK YI. PARSON BUCHANAN MINISTERING TO THE SICK. WE wish to give our readers a further insiglit into tlie kind heart of Parson Buchanan. He has called this morning at the house of Parson Blair for his daughter Betsj. She is a cheerful, laugliing, saucy lass, healthful and blooming, with a pretty face and jaunty mien ; but she has that great drawback to beauty in the estimation of many — a full suit of red hair, rich ringlets curling naturally without defect, but unmistakably red. She has learned to be useful in all domestic concerns, and no one knows better how to render assistance around a sick-bed than she. She is perfectly easy in the society of the good Parson, from his great intimacy with her father and mother, and looks upon him as she would on her grandfather. They are M'alking along, arm in arm, chatting as cosily as two lovers. He has en his right-arm a good sized basket, covered with a neat wliite napkin, and seems to be as happy as his companion is joyous. " I am going to take you to see a poor sick woman. She has been a highly respectable woman in her day, and is a most worthy one now ; but the long sickness of her husband, and his subsequent death, with the children she has to support, and her own illness, have brought her to extreme poverty, and I fear to the verge of the grave. She lives in a miserable shanty, with no comforts around her, and I wish to see what we can do to relieve her dis- tress. She is a Scotchwoman, whose husband, Alexander Brown, a countryman of mine, came here only a few 94 THE TWO PARSONS. years ago. He was a hard working, industrious and sober man, and was doing very well until afflicted with disease. She attended him wdth all the kindness and affection of the most devoted wife, and has evinced the same affection for her children since ; but adversity has pressed hard upon her, and those children, whom she always kept clean and neat, and tried to train in all that was right and good, are now almost vagabonds in the streets. " I have asked Dr. McCaw to give the poor widow his medical advice, and he is doing his best for her, but thinks she is in a critical condition. I generally talk to her in the Scotch dialect, because it seems to revive old recollec- tions, and it soothes her, bringing back old friends and associates to her mind." They reached the poor woman's house, and' a gentle rap at the door w^as answered by a feeble voice, saying, " Come in." He went to the sick w^oman and took her by the hand. " I hope ye are better, Mrs. Brown." He felt her pulse, and laid his soft hand on her forehead. " I hae brought my little sweetheart wi' me to cheer ye up a bit." " The gude Lord bless ye," she replied, and a faint smile lighted up her faded eye as it glanced upon that cheerful face. " Come near me, hiney ; ye look sae sonsie." Our Bet gave her hand, and gently smoothed the disheveled hair. " A little fever yet," she said. " Ah, yes, hiney ; nae sleep, and unco dreams, and muckle cares." " But, Mrs. Brown," interposed the Parson, " we'll get ye up for a' that. Ye're nae sae bad as ye seem to think. I hae brought ye something to gie ye strength ; ye want nom-ishment, Mrs. Brown. Maybe a little jelly w^ad taste your mou'. And here's some chicken and nice bread for the liairns, and a wee drap o' wine for your MINISTERING TO THE SICK. 95 ainsel." He took from the basket a little jar of jelly and handed it to Bet, and a bottle of old port, and poured out a mouthful or two into a little cordial glass, and brought it to the side of the bed. Our Bet delicately carried a teaspoonful of the jelly at a time to the poor woman's mouth, and placed it between her lips ; then, gently rais- ing her head, she gave her a taste of the wine. When she laid her down there was a grateful glance, and the tears just glistened in her eyes. She slowly shook her head. , " Ah ! wae's me ! it will nae a' do ; there's a flittering in the auld heart, hiney, and the saul seems ready to gae. I hae nae lang to stay. Parson, and what'll become o' the bairns ? That's a' that keeps the spirit hovering here. Ah ! if I could only hae strength to look for my ain lass^ and the ither wee anes ! It is sad and sair, Parson. Will ye see to the lielpless anes when the inither is gane ? Will ye try to keep them frae harm and frae evil ? They hae naething to eat mony times ; very tattered and torn ; and I, wae's me ! hae naething to gie. Mony an hour there isna ane here to gie me a drap o' water, and I hae nae the power to get it mysel' ; and the bairn has gane awa." Her dry eyes looked wistfully in his face. The tears trickled down our kind Bet's cheek, and her lips quivered with emotion. The good Parson, who was ac- customed to sorrow and tales of woe, heaved a deep sigh, and extending his hands said : " Dinna be sae sair, Mrs. Brown. We will take care o' the bairns, and send them to school. They sha'nna \vant ; but ye shall get well yoursel', Mrs. Brown. Ye maunna think o' deeing. I know ye are prepared, and rely upon the gude Shepherd ; but, then, ye may live mony years, and be a blessin' to your bairns." " It will nae be," she persisted ; and she looked doubly anxious. " There is something on my mind, Parson, 96 THE TWO PARSONS. — about my child. Ah I I fear the worst." Her lips turned like ashes. The Parson, thinking only that she wanted the children fed and. attended to, said, "Ye maun remember the words of the Good Shepherd. Ye ken He said to Peter, ' Lovest thou Me V and then He said, ' Feed My lambs.' It is the duty of gude people now to feed the needy ones, not only with the Bread of Life, but to minister to their temporal necessities. We will see that they are cared for, Mrs. Brown. And then, my gude woman, ye maun re- member what the psalmist said, ' I have been young and now am old, yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken nor his seed begging bread.' Cheer up, Mrs. Brown, we'll send a gude woman to help ye to care for yourself, and keep your bairns neat and clean ; and here is some siller to buy what ye may need," and showing her his purse, he gently placed it under the pillow. " And ye maun eat some mair jelly, and drink a mouthful mair of wine now and tlien to keep ye strong, and let the bairns dip into the basket." Our sweetheart smoothed the bed- clothes, and made up the pillow, and laid her head in a cooler place. " Ah ! but. Parson !" A deep sigh seemed to heave her troubled breast, as though it were the last. She paused, as if fearing to unburden her heart, and then looked from one to the other with a mournful expression. " What am I to do ! My girl. Parson !" And turning to our Bet, said, " My daughter, dear ! I have tried to bring her up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; but she was winsome, and though owre 3'oung, — nae mair than fifteen, — she had a lover, — a gude man, I thought; but I have been sick sae lang, and sometimes daft, and couldna watch and guide, and the twa were left ane wi' the ither. And, Parson, they were married without my presence. Alack-a-day ! And now she has gane frae hame, and left her ain mither to die MINISTERING TO THE SICK. 97 :and starve. I dinna care to die ; but disgrace, Parson ! ■Gane, I ken nae whitlier. And I, wae's me ! am left to mourn and to die. I hae wepit and wepit until my auld een hae gane dry. Alas ! it lies heavy on my auld heart, and I canna rest, nor day nor night. The neebors hae kindly made enquiry, but hae nae tidings ; and I, my auld limbs winna move ony mair !" She placed her shrivelled hand upon her heart, and said, "It'll break! I feel faint, hiney !" She turned deadly pale, and lay speechless and motionless. Our Bet ran hurriedly to the basin, dipped her handkerchief in the water, and wiped the pallid brow and face, while Parson Buchanan administered a spoonful of the wine, and the poor soul revived and looked vacantly around. " Eliza," she called. There was no response. "Dinna speak, Mrs. Brown; ye are owre weak." She shut lier eyes, and her whole frame shook; and he gave her a little more of the wine, and the color came again to her cheeks. At this moment Evelyn, a colored nurse belonging to Mrs. Munford, who lived in the neighborhood, came in to enquire after the poor woman, sent by her mistress to give such assistance as she might want. The Parson said, "My girl, stay here and attend to Mrs. Brown, until I send the docitor and a nurse, and I will pay you for your trouble." "And now, Mrs. Brown, we maun gang awa'; dinna talk ony mair now ; dinna disturb yoursel' about the bairn. She maun be in the city. We will find her, gude woman, and send her hame. We will send a gude nurse, and the doctor will como till ye, and ye maun ne'er be cast •doun." She shook her head, and then closed her eyes as if weary unto death. He felt her feeble pulse, and said, " God will not de- sert you." And Bet took her by the hand and pressed it 98 THE TWO PARSONS. kindly. " We will come and see you again." As they went along, the Parson said, " ' It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men ; and the living will lay it to his heart.' We must get your mother and her kind sisters to look after the nurse, and see that Mrs. Brown is properly cared for. I will make diligent enquiry for the girl; and the young bairns must be kept out of the streets. Here is work for the true Christian. Now, dear, I must part with you here; tell your mother what you have seen, and ask her to go at once to that house of sorrow. She had better go by Mrs. Munford's, and let them take with them a good nurse, who can stay with the helpless woman, and minister to her necessities. I will remunerate the nurse. The poor woman will -not suffer many days ; she is going the way of all flesh." Then Parson Buchanan, with his warm heai't full and his sympathies thoroughly aroused, went directly to the house of Mr. Robert Greenhow, one of his parishioners, who was an overseer of the poor, and from his position acquainted with the police of the city. "Greenhow," he said, "I have come to consult you about a poor woman, a Mrs. Brown, who is respectable, and was once in good circumstances. She lives in a small house near the State armory. Her husband is dead, and she is left in extreme poverty, with three chil- dren, and is very ill, perfectly helpless, and almost in a starving condition. She is at the point of death, and cannot live more than a day or two. I have endeavoured to provide for her immediate wants; it is about the chil- dren I desire your aid. She has a daughter, who is young and pretty, and who says she married a man privately, by the name of White, and they have either gone off together or are still somewhere in the city ; but it is probable that he has persuaded her to abandon her mother, and accom- MINISTERING TO THE SICK. 99 pany him to some other place. Then there are two little boys, who are wandering about the streets begging for bread, and likely to become vagabonds. They will neces- sarily, as far as I can see, become chargeable upon the parish. I want you, as a "good Christian man and ofhcer, to exert your influence to have them protected ; and more, can't we get the aid of the police to look for and restore the girl to her unhappy mother ?" Mr. Grreerihow said, "What was her husband's name?" "Alexander Brown," said the Parson. " Then," said Mr. Greenhow, " I think I have a clue to the girl already. About a week ago, when ray servant opened the front door in the morning, there was a covered basket on the door-mat, which he brought in, and said,. 'Here is a basket I found at the door, and there is a baby in it.' Upon examination, we found it to be so ;. there was a new-born babe, very plainly dressed, but comfortably wrapped in a new blanket, fast asleep, and on its breast was pinned a slip of paper with these words upon it : ' Alexander B. White.' I sent the babe to th& poor house, and directed a proper nurse to be provided for it. The worthy matron there informed me the child is doing well. We have made all enquiry for the mother, but the only trace we have had of her is that a well- dressed man by the name of White, and a very delicate- looking young woman took passage about the time the basket was found, in the stage for Lynchburg. We have written to ascertain whether any further trace can be ob- tained from that town, but as yet have had no answer." Now, we will add that, though fifty years have elapsed from that day to this, no further trace has ever been found of Eliza Brown, the unfortunate daughter of the dvino; woman whose fate we have here recorded. Neither White nor herself ever made enquiry for their destitute child, and no one is able to tell where thev went or what 100 THE TWO PAKSONS. has been their fate. Such is the sad story developed by the visit of Parson Buchanan. Having learned this mnch, and believing further search of no avail, the Parson returned to his home. He was very sad, but felt that he had performed the part of a neighbor to a poor helpless woman. He took his arm-chair, opened his Bible, in which he had made many italicized marks and marginal comments, and calmly read page after page of the inspired word. At length, closing the book, he sat musing over the events of the day, and the part his little sweetheart, as he called her, had played in the morning visit. He then thought how often he had heard it said, " What a pity it is she has red hair. In spite of this she is really quite hand- some, and she is so ver}' kind-hearted." He, took up his pen and devoted an hour to writing, and when he had tinished, folded what he had w^ritten in letter form, and directed his servant to carry it to Miss Betsy Blair. Having a copy of the letter by us, we give it as char- acteristic of his playfulness and kindness. He even wished to contribute to the happiness of everybody, by making them better pleased with their personal appear- ance. "Miss Blair: "In my younger days, I well remember, I was gifted by nature with hair of a color similar to yours, and though time has not much thinned, it has considerably changed its hue. A wag, in those days, willing to have a little sport at my expense, exclaimed that my head was all in a blaze. I was thrown into a momentary conster- nation, but at last found that he alluded to the radiancy of my locks, I was glad it was no worse, and gave him •due credit for the brilliancy of his wit. "None, I dare venture to say, will treat you in this MINISTERING TO THE SICK. 101 unfeeling manner; but, perhaps, among your own sex some may be found, who, not being able to discern any personal or mental defect, will malignantly point to your hair. Should this ever happen, you may console yourself with the following anecdote concerning the celebrated Christopher Smart, and with reading some beautiful verses written by him on the occasion. He, who was a very affectionate lover, as well as an ingenious poet, was enamored in his youth of a lady who, though tender and beautiful, was, in the opinion of many of her charit- able and rival sisters, a mere dowdy, because she had red hair. Indignant at the abuse lavished upon his fair one, the poet undertook the apparently ditiicult task of prais- ing hair of that color. He accordingly wrote a song, entitled " The Lass with the Golden Locks," which im- mortalized his mistress. "The praise is finely and classically unfolded. The simile in the initial lines of the second stanza is one of the most beautiful in poetry, and in the closing stanza the office of the charmer's eyes is most happily worded : " ' No more of my Harriet, of Polly no more, Nor all the bright beauties that charmed me before; My heart for a slave to gay Yenus I've sold. And bartered my freedom for ringlets of gold. I'll throw down my pipe, and neglect all my flocks, And will sing to the lass with the golden locks. "'Tho' o'er the white forehead the gilt tresses flow. Like the rays of the sun on a hillock of snow, Such painters of old drew the queen of the fair, 'Tis the taste of the ancients, 'tis classical hair ; And tho' witlings may scoff, and tho' raillery mocks,. Yet I'll sing to my lass with the golden locks. 102 THE TWO PARSONS. " ' To live and to love, to converse and be free, Is loving my charmer, and living with thee ; Away go the hours in kisses and rhyme. Spite of all the grave lectures of old Father Time ; A fig for his dials, his watches and clocks. He's best spent with the lass with the golden locks. ^' ' Than the swan in the brook she's more dear to my sight, Her mien is more stately, her breast is more white ; Her sweet lips are rabies, all rubies above ; They are fit for the language or labor of love. At the park, on the street, at the play, in the box, My lass bears the bell with her golden locks. ^' ' Her beautiful eyes, as they roll or they flow. Shall be glad for my joy, or shall weep for my woe ; She shall ease my fond heart, and shall soothe my soft pain, While thousands of rivals are sighing in vain ; Let them rail at the fruit they can't reach, like the fox, While I have the lass with the golden locks. "'J. B.'" In the playfulness which existed between the good Christian brothers and their families, which constituted the charm of their private lives, this kind epistle was an- swered for his daughter by Parson Blair, and the answer sent by her in her own name : "■ To THE Key. John Buchanan : '' To you, reverend sir, I return from my heart My best thanks for your verses from Christopher Smart ; I rejoice, sir, to find, among sages of old. Red hair was depictured by ringlets of gold ; So henceforth, if the witlings shall scoff at its looks, MINISTERING TO THE SICK, 103 I'll refute all their malice from classical books. You tell me in prose, yet in poetic phrase, Tour own head was once said to be in a blaze, But changing of late, aud no doubt for the worse, You've put grey on your head and the gold in your purse ; Your example, however, this lesson will teach, To be red in one's youth is the way to be rich. But ' my father insists ' that ' the taste of the fair,' Is at present in favor of classical hair ; For that those to whom nature has been less indulgent, Oet red wigs from the barber to make them refulgent; It is my fairer lot, then, as long as youth blooms. To be quite in the fashion without borrowed plumes. " Your young friend, "E. D. Blair." Beauty, and the adornments that make up the beauti- ful, are matters of taste, and it is fortunate that heaven has so decreed it; for in the vast variety of human faces, the features that compose them, and in the color and dis- position of the hair, every taste is provided for, every eye is gratified, and every heart finds some one to cling to and love. Fashion not unfrequently makes that which is esteemed at one time a beauty, at another an object of aversion. So the poets have changed with their fancies and loves, and we have songs lauding " The lass with the lint-white locks," " The lass with the raven locks," and " The yel- low haired laddie," and so, too, " the mild blue eye," " the coal-black ej'e," " the diamond eye," and " the poet's eye in a wild phrenzy rolling ;" and some have even found beauties in the squinting eye. As for the Parson's sweet daughter, she was l)lessed with a bevy of beaux, some of whom would have " bartered their free- dom for ringlets of gold ;" some of whom could not see 104 THE TWO PARSONS. the ringlets for the sparkling; of the eye and the beaming,, smiling face. Others, again, were attracted by the jaunty air, the sweetness of temper, the kindness of heart, and the sprightliness of the mind. Any of them would have rejoiced in saying : " Let those rail at the fruit they can^t reach, like the fox,. When I get the lass with the golden locks." She contented herself with singing, " I'm owre young, to marry yet." CHAPTER VII. PARSON BLAIR'S SERMON: " I GO A FISHING." OH ! for some place where I can think, — where the mind can revel free, — where the sonl, when it feels an inspiration, may breathe forth its outpourings in adora- tion of the Diety, — where the heart may unloose its loves, its friendships, its pleasures and its woes; where, when reading or dreaming over a pathetic scene, the big tear may start without a cold eye to moderate, or an unbidden laugh to chill and congeal it ! Oh ! for a private spot, where uninvited footsteps may not intrude, and the very fear of interruption may not prove a '■'•mare clausum^'^ to the mind ! What can be more trying to an author in the the full tide of composition, when the mind is working as smoothly as a well oiled machine, and you see the wheat separated from the chaff, and all ready to be stored, than a visit from one of those good prosy fellows who sits down cosily, and delighted to see you, begins in his dull way, going back to Adam, and a little before Adam, and tells you the minutiae of his affairs througli all the succeeding generations; all of which he has narrated be fore, without a particle of variation, yet oblivious of ever having mentioned the subject to a human being in the whole course of his life ? It is a painful thing to fret internally, and still remain apparently polite, when all the while you wished to terminate the enjoyment of the in- truder b}^ taking him by the collar and leading him gently to the door. After such an interruption you see in your mind's eye the little angels that were unfolding the 7 106 THE TWO PARSONS. treasures of your l)ram, and laying them before you to be read and daguerreotyped with all their beauties of colors and shading, gently closing the doors and folding up the jewels, until all are hid and gone. Whea these things take place you are ready to go off into caniptions, and lament the day you were born. Thus soliloquized Parson Blair, when he had seated himself in his study (if a room to which every member of the family had free access could be so-called), to com- pose his sermon for the approaching Sabbath. lie took up his Bible reverently, and silently turned over its leaves until he reached the twenty-first chapter of the gospel according to St. John. Then he said, "Here is Jesus after His resurrection, showing Himself for the third time to His disciples, at the sea of Tiberias, where there were seven of them together." Then he stopped at the third verse, " Simon Peter saith unto them, I go a fish- ing." " This shall l)e my text." Just as he had reached this point, had removed from his mind its pre-occupying thoughts, and had begun to spin the thread for a train of ideas with which to weave the woof and warp of his discourse, an old-fashioned Vir- ginia darkey, who was pretty much mistress over the younger brood of the family, and certainly over all the other servants, both because of her age, respectful de- meanor and general good character — in fact was what we, in former days, called " mammy," entered abruptly and said, " Master, missis say, dar aint no sugar in de house, .and she sent me to axe you please send for some coffee." Patience is a great virtue. The good man blandly re- plied, "Pll attend to it by-and-by." Then, having always had a keen sense of the i-idiculous, he soliloquized after this fashion: "'She sent me!' Dear, dear, dear, 'To axe you !' As if I was a log of w^ood to be cut up with an axe. Where did the creature pick up such language ? PARSON BLAIr's SERMON. 107 Because there 'aint no sugar, please send for some cof- fee,' " and then he rummaged in his pockets and said, "A Flemish account of empty boxes." But the sugar and the <3offee must be forthcoming. He shut up the Bible, and said aloud, " It is of no use ; I am not in the vein." He picked up his pen again and took another tack, in order to remove these last thoughts vidth something more sprightly ; and as we have a copy of the letter he wrote, we will make a few extracts, to show how he relieved his mind when he was otherwise disposed to fret. The letter is directed to Mr. John Rutherf oord, Dublin. Mr. Buther- foord was the nephew of Mr. Thomas Butherfoord, who, we have seen, married Mrs. Blair's sister. " BicHMOND, IZth FeFy, 1806. " Dear Sir : I have had a letter ready for you ever since some time in October of the last vear, and I mention it to show that I have not been unmindful of you; but I have never known of an opportunity of sending it. Indeed, I never go to your uncle's, or to his worship's, without thinking and hearing of you." We will simply say, that his worship was no other than our old friend, Barson Buchanan, who occupied so much of his thoughts, and upon whom he took so much pleasure in cracking a sly joke. The good Barson was known to have no taste either for fishing or hunting, and therefore had no skill in either, while Barson Blair, being fond of both recreations, was a first-rate shot and a skilful angler. But we will permit him to proceed in liis own way: " His worship now and then talks about shooting per- drix on the ground and catching them in traps ; but I tell him, as to you, I certainly saw you shoot one on the wing. Your uncle, who you know deals in tobacco, has seldom failed to tell me of his late advices from your side of the water; such particularly as inform him that 108 THE TWO PAESONS. his cargo proved superior to the choice selection of fifty hogsheads which you made while in this country. Such and so various are the tastes of men !" He then talks of other matters among the connections of the family. " Pray have you seen the celebrated river or brook in which the Colonel killed so manv salmon in a forenoon ? I am not certain whether it was in Scotland or the West Indies, but should suppose it was in the place farthest distant from America. I think he told us he killed a gross between breakfast and dinner, and from the number one would conclude that the exploit had been achieved at Khodes, where, you know, the man in the fable made the great jump. If I remember right, our calculation made it about three salmon in four minutes, or two in three minutes, which certainly must have been very expeditious. It must have been fatiguing besides ; for supposing, as I think he stated, each fish to have weighed five pounds,, they must have been equal in all to about thirteen fifty- sixes. This must have required such exertion of his muscular powers, that I dare say he slept without rock- ing the night after. I believe, indeed, that you enter- tained a suspicion that he only dreamt it. Unacquainted as I was with the catching of salmon, I could not judge so well as you ; but he told us marvelous things, too, about his shooting grouse on the mountains, and I really did think he shot out of a long gun that time. , " You, my dear sir, may be said to be now entering, upon life. Remember that you hold it and all its com- forts on a precarious tenure. Then let no company nor temptations of any kind seduce you from the principles of piety and the practice of virtue, which are infinitely the most valuable, and the only lasting portion. " I am, dear sir, your respectful friend, " John D. Blair." PARSON BLAIr's SERMON. 109 This was invariably tlie way in which he endeavored, in the midst of pleasantry and temporal affairs, to lead the mind to think on greater pleasures in store for the righteous in the world to come. The anecdote of fishing- was no doubt brought to his mind by the text he had se- lected. Having thus come back to the solemn and the serious mood befitting the theme he had chosen, he again took up his note-book and began jotting down the outlines for his discourse. We have had the advantage of running over these notes, and the thoughts for this sermon are mostly taken from them. " ' Simon Peter saith unto them, I go a fishing. They say unto him, We also go with thee.' We note that the Saviour, after His resurrection, does not chide those whom He had chosen to gaide and govern His Church for attending to their secular aifairs. These apostles were fishermen. They were partners in ships, in seines, in the business and occupation of fishing, by whicli they supported themselves and their families. Peter, in par- ticular, we know had a wife ; for we are told in the Bible that his wife's mother lay sick of a fever. Early writers testify that she was a most devoted wife, and followed him in all his travels, and clung to him in all his perils, faithfully ministering to him in the blindness of his old age, through all his troubles, to his terrible end. Her name was Perpetua ; and it is well for good wives to have their names registered, not only in the hearts of men, but perpetually in that final home suited to their lovely char- acters. " Fishing, by individuals, is an occupation which has the advantage of being an amusement, a recreation, an unbending of the mind. It affords time for meditation without the intrusion of others. It furnishes food in moderate supply for an ordinary family. If carried on 110 THE TWO PARSONS. as a business by co-operative industry, and men devote their labor continually to it, it not only gives employment to large numbers of people, supports them and their families, but gives a scope for extensive operations with large capital. It becomes the nursery for a national ma- rine, aids in building up a navy of hardy and experienced navigators to protect and defend the country, and is the prolific source from whence is drawn the material for carrying on the commerce of the world." He had just advanced thus far when his little son, Tom, came running into the room, full of glee, in the eager- ness of youth, catching him by the sleeve, and saying : " Oh ! pa, here is the man with the organ and the monkey: Do, pa, do come and see him. Oh ! he is cutting so many capers. Please, pa, give me a four-pence,-ha'penny to give to the monkey." " Dear ! dear !" said the patient man. " The monkey ! What has become of Peter !" " Peter," said Tom, " I saw him working in the garden just now." " Well, well ! Peter working in the garden ! I thought he had gone a-fishing." " No, sir ; he is rolling out the grass from the aspara- gus beds. Oh ! pa, do come and see the monkey !" He gave the child the money, and said, " Don't bother me again with organs and monkeys." Tom ran away overjoyed, but the idea of Peter working asparagus beds would not flit away. " I was just thinking," he said, "of St. Peter, who had been crucified in his old age with his head downwards, the position he had begged for himself in humility, as unworthy to occupy, even in death, the position of his blessed Master." " Oh ! Mr. Blair, one of the children has fallen down the steps and hurt his arm," cried Mrs. Blair. The kind heart drew a long breath, a smothered sigh — PARSON BL air's SERMON. Ill first for the interruption, and then for the cause — hustled the papers into the table drawer, and went forth im- mediately. There was a terrific scream, and then the holding of the breath, and when nature required an exhalation, another scream. The bystanders had picked up the child and stood him on his feet, and he was bawling lustily. The Parson turned upon his heel and retreated quickly into the house. He was met by his sister, Hannah. " What is the matter, brother ?" " Nothing," he said. So it turned out. When a child is severely hurt, it rarely cries loudly. The little scamp, in his hurry to give the fourpence to the monkey, had fallen down the steps and skinned his elbow — that was all. In a few moments he was capering around the monkey, which was dressed in a red uniform, with a cocked hat under its arm and a pair of specs on its nose, and peeping and peering, was catching everything thrown to it wdth invariable certainty. So much for the monkey and this unfortunate interrup- tion. The man with the monkey, however, was not satis- fied. Seeing the Parson going back into the house, he followed him and said, " Parson, don't you wish to see a picture of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the fiery furnace ?" This was too much for the Parson's gravity ! The man who could compose himself to write anything worthy of the attention of an intelligent audience after such scenes must be more than mortal. He threw himself back in his chair, put the feathered end of his pen between his teeth, and looked up at the ceiling. Then the association of ideas brought up the thoughts relative to Simon Peter. He mused and said, "I can follow Peter's example — ' I go a fishing.' I know I lack the order from the Lord, ' Go thou to the sea and cast a hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up ; and wdien thon hast opened his mouth, thou shalt find a 112 THE TWO PARSONS. piece of money ; take that and give unto them for Me and for thee.' But that was to pay faxes, not to buy sugar and coffee. I can at least compose my mind by the side of a quiet stream, and gather my scattered thoughts. Yet this will probably be the result : notwith- standing all the evidence we have in the Bible of the best of men fishing and hunting, and of the Master of the best of them approving and ordering it, yet some of the good people who are righteous overmuch will think it sacrilege for a parson to go a-iishing. I have already had rebukes whispered at me for doing the self-same thing. I can only reply, ' Ye blind guides, which strain out a gnat and swallow a camel. Woe imto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ; for ye make clean the outside of the cup and the platter, but within they are full of extortion and ex- cess.' But what is that to going deliberately to see a farce?' " So the first thing we know, we find the Parson wending his way along the banks of a shady pond (it was Bowles' pond), a few miles from the city, and hear him talking to himself : "Worn with the routine of the school And with the mental strain Of teaching boys by rote and rule The same thing o'er again, I come for recreation and for meditation ; ''I take my fishing rod and lines And seek the limpid streams. Where pike and chub near beech and pines Dart swift as lively dreams." We see him with a few green willow twigs twisted into a hoop, and winding around this hoop the ends of his large silk handkerchief, forming a net, and skimming PARSON BLAIr's SERMON. 113 in the deep holes emptying from the pond. He is catch- ing minnows from the brook, which he carefully drops into a bucket of fresh water, to serve as bait and to keep them alive. Some kind heart will say, "Fishing with live minnows, how cruel !" He seats himself upon an old log, near a clump of brush, then prepares for the sport. He takes his cane, the gift of his old friend, and nicely screws its joints together, forming a beautiful rod. His newest hooks from their case, he inspects one by one; examines the lead, scrutinizes the cork, poises it, nnwinds the silken line, adjusts it to the rod, takes out the freshest minnow and carefully puts it on the hook, so as not to wound it more than possible. He drops the line gently just outside the clump of brush, and patiently awaits the coming of the finny tribe. In a little while the minnow begins to revive and moves very slowly along, the cork upon the unrippled water showing the weakly motion. There was a stillness one could almost feel. Not a sound, no one near, all quiet and serene. The good man begins to ruminate. " The Master said, ' Come ye after Me, and I will make you to become fishers of men.' 'And Jesus said unto Simon, Feai- not, from henceforth thou shalt catch men.' '" He mused here, and thus so- liloquized : " To catch fish there must be time, place and circum- stance. The same thing is applicable to tlie fisher who is endeavoring to catch men for his Master's table. If you neglect this simple rule, you may angle a life-time in vain. You cannot catch fish with a hook and line without suitable bait. Plain bread for some, a worm for others, a buzzing fly and a jumping minnow for tlie ravenous. Nor can you catcli men with the same food. Man, of all animals, is the hardest to please in his appe- tite. What he eats to-day with a relish disgusts him to- 114: THE TWO PARSONS. morrow. The oratory which attracts now is stale and insipid then. Some will he satisfied with skimmed milk. Nothing will suit others but the finest flavors, the juciest viands, the richest seasoning, the fattest and freshest solids, served up in silver and gold, and garnished with imagination's raciest, rarest and most tempting appetizers. Some are wearied with the fislierman, worried with his mode of fishing, despise his hooks, turn up their noses at the lightness of his corks and the heaviness of his leads. Some thiow their nets on the wrong side, and in the wrong way, and toil all night and catchno fish. Others heeding their Master's command, in full confidence and faith ' cast the net on the right side of the ship,' ' and now they are not able to draw it for the multitude of fishes,' " Some fish are very shy — dart off if you move ; others play around your feet. Some men have wings if you open the Bible in their presence. But they have their feeding times, like fish. There are times when fish will not bite, though you place their favorite bait within reach of their mouths. At other moments they will scarcely wait until the hook touches the w^ater. They snap at it in the twinkling of an eye. It is the part of a good fisherman for men to humor tlieir whims and warily watch for the appropriate opportunity. They are like cattle in the morning rapidly passing over a field, leaving often the best and richest grass, and seeking the bare and poor spots, but coming back in the evening and delight- ing to crop what they had before neglected. So," said he, " you must study the habits of fish. You must do more in fishina; for men. You must search into the depths of human nature. You have to open up to their view the panorama of heaven and of earth, with their un- told riches and all their mao-nificent surroundings. You must fly on the wings of the wind to keep pace with the PAKSON BLAIr's SERMON. 115 rapidity of their aspirations. If you soar with the wings of the morning, with all its freshness, they are still rush- ing onward and upward. If you come like the Sun of righteousness, with healing in His wings, they will scarcely pause to take the soothing balm. You must study with more than twenty years of lucubration all characters, both sexes, all ages. You must know how they are at- tracted, by w^hat they are caught, and how^ they are gathered into the fold. The theme opens upon my view, ' I go a fishing.' " He looked up ; suddenly the cork bobbed up and dowTi twice ; then it ran along two or three feet. In a moment he had ea(;h muscle strung to its utmost tension. He looked as rigid as a pointer with eyes and head slightly turned towards a flock of partridges. With nerves keenly excited, he held his breath, and gazed at the cork with intense anxiety ; then raised the rod wnth cautious hand, and gently tightened the line. In an in- stant down went the cork ; he gave a rapid twitch, and the line fairly whizzed through the w^ater in the opposite direc- tion, until it was stretched to its full extent. The sud- den check whirled the huge fish over. It then ran towards the surface, and flounced its tail out of the water with a splash ; and, seeing the parson, darted with the rapidity of light to the bottom ; then, changing direction, ran for the shore, bending the rod until every moment it was in danger of being snapped in twain. The experienced angler slipped the rod gradually backward, and catching the line wound it round his hand, saying, " Aha, old fel- low, I've got you now ; go ahead." We have heard Parson Buchanan on such occasions cry out, " Play him, brother Blair ; play him." But brother Blair was up to all that sort of thing, and knew what he was about. He began forcing the fish to the surface, and when he found it worried and almost exhausted, he 116 THE TWO PARSONS. gradually curtailed the line, bringing it nearer and nearer, till at last he flounced it on the ground. It was a mag- nificent chub, weighing six or eight pounds, fluttering, gasping, bouncing, seeming determined never to surrender. He found the hook sticking securely, and as he took it out, said, " That is precisely the way some men act when they feel the workings of the Holy Spirit. They resist with might and main, but by and by they are very still and tractable." But now the fish began to bite in earnest, rapidly and most excitingh^ He could scarcely arrange himself • to his work before bite after bite indicated there were many playing around his bait. Sometimes he was a little too quick — didn't give them time enough; they would snap and run, and then let go ; then he waited too long, and the}'^ would take his bait; but ever and anon he caught large and fine fish, and had all the sport he desired. Pike, silver perch, chub — some of the largest and finest the pond contained. " This silver perch," he said, " is brother Buchanan's ; he enjoys its juicy relish." And so he went on, never forgetting brother Buchanan, until, be- copiing fatigued, he threw himself upon the grass, and opened a bucket he had ]:)roiight along, and found wrap- ped in a clean napkin a nice lunch his good wife had daintily and carefully provided for his comfort, to say nothing of his hunting flask and cup, containing a little something for his stomach's sake. " Simon Peter's wife," he said, "no doubt flxed up many nice things for Peter and his friends when they went a-fishing ; but my wife, I think, could beat her making pickle, curing ham, and broiling chickens. I doubt whether Peter's wife would touch a ham, for I dare say she was a Jewess, and a pretty Jewess too, for they are always pretty. What a blessed thing it is that bacon and greens and jowl and turnip- tops are not prohiliited now. The only fault of my wife PARSON BLAIR'b SERMON. IIT is that she is not Perpetual." And while he lay resting himself, he mused as before upon his theme : " What a pity it is that we should have an enemy among us fishing for men. Ah ! the devil is a marvellous tempter. He throws his lines, and takes especial care to hide his hooks. They are covered with the most fascinating baits. He fished for our Saviour. ' And the devil, taking Him up into a high mountain, showed unto Him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time.' And he said, ' All this power will I give Thee, and the glory of them ; if Thou wilt worship me all shall be Thine.' A most tempting bait ; and he assured Him, ' To whomsoever I will, I give it.' How many men and women would have resisted this offer ? Suppose I were to say to them, Be- lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ — nothing more — and I will make you president of the United States. Would they bite ? Suppose I were to say, not to make it too tempting, Here are from two to five hundred thousand dollars; believe and be baptized, and they shall be for the man and his children who can reach them first. There would be such a rush I should be in danger of being trampled to death. "When the devil is fishing, he most generally tempts his fish with silver hooks and golden bait. Ah! but he does not limit himself to silver and gold. He offers the bait of Vermillion cheeks and cherry lips, diamond eyes and flowing ringlets. Aye, ambition too is an inviting morceau. He dresses it up nicely and tickles the palate with self-deluding flattery, with public applause, ci-ying, 'Hear him, hear him.' They take out the horses from his carriage, and yoke themselves to the traces and draw him through 'the streets. They tickle his pride with public preferment until the victim is prepared to say and apply it to himself, ' Lift up your heads, O ye gates ; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of 118 THE TWO PARSONS. fflorv shall come in.' Forc-ettirii!; that there is one who asks, 'Who is the King of glory?' And who answers, 'Tlie Lord of hosts, He is the King of glory!' And forgetting that He who weighs him in the balances has the power to say, ' Depart from Me, ye cursed, into ever- lasting fire, prepared for the devil and liis angels.' "Another thought presents itself. Fish of the same kind swim together, associate together. Different kinds keep asunder. You may sometimes find a shark among them, taking his prey and frightening them to death. But even the shark keeps to his species. You find a large school of shad, an immense school of herring, myriads of salmon, myi-iads of macherel, every species and genera, and of all sizes, coming from the same ocean, sometimes one or two different species running in the same stream ; but generally each school separate and apart, and each species unerringly true to its instincts and habits, as if guided by one spirit. There is a Master who impressed His law upon them, and they obey it with undeviating aun. "Do you see no likeness in this to man? 1 speak of his intercourse in the churcli. Is there no reason for separate and distinct denominations? The world is the great ocean. Here dwellcth leviathan, and here, the tiniest living thing that hath scales and tins. Thou canst not see even with a microscope the ten thousand myriads of atoms that float through immensity, all of different races and species and genera, governed by laws suited to the purposes for whicli they were created. " When a mighty monarch gathers his million army to go forth to battle, tliey come from every province. Every sub-division, each company, each battalion, each regiment, each brigade, each division, each corps d'armee under sepai'ate leaders, are kept togetlier with one great com- mander — the autocrat, and he saith, 'Go, and he goeth; PARSON BLAIr's SERMON. 119 come and he cometh.' Do the corps of the grand army in- termix, the one with another ? Mihtary men know better than to make this confusion, — this fruitful source of un- mitigated discord. They hurl them in masses, preserving their distinctions, against the enemy ; and the result is as God shall decree. "How are the religious sects formed? Our Saviour proclaims, ' Search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life ; and they are they which testify of Me.' They all go to the fountain; but men's minds are various, and the reasons which satisfy you will not satisfy another. The Bible is like other books, susceptible of different constructions. But there is one universal truth wliich pervades it, and scarcely a sect denies the essentials to salvation. Those who believe that particular passages are construed in one way flock together, because their belief is more congenial to each other, and there is no danger of quarrelling; while those who believe there is another interpretation more in accordance with the tenor and scope of the Divine word, gather themselves together. To keep up their organizations, they require different governments and different rules: bishops, priests, deacons and elders, presbytery, and every other name in accord with their fancy or their interpretation of the Bible, and the traditions of the fathers. Where is the necessity for dissension among them ? And yet how bitter and acri- monious some of them are. How many ordinary members can tell what the differences are ? They do not even state correctly what their adversaries believe. Why should each set up his opinions as the only true and infallible standard ? They are both fallible because they are mortal. The true principle is for each 'to practise Christian for- bearance and charity towards the other.' If God hath given unto other sects the like gift as He gave unto us, let us receive them with joy and kindness, and we will 120 THE TWO PARSONS. fight the common enemy under the same banner of the cross. "Oar Saviour selected His apostles from among fisher- men. There was a meaning in this. He intended to make them fishers of men. Some of His most extra- ordinary miracles were performed with fish, and they had a signification too, to a thoughtful mind. " Once when He sat down in Simon's ship at the lake of Gennesaret, and taught the people out of the ship, ' when He had left speaking. He said unto Simon, Launch into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught.' 'And when they had this done, they inclosed a great multitude of fishes, and their net brake. And they beckoned to their partners which were in the other ship that they should come and help them. And they came and filled both the ships, so that they began to sink.' And when Peter and all that were with him were alarmed and astonished, 'He said unto Simon, Fear not, from hence- forth thou shalt catch men.' " This miraculous draught of fishes Mas emblematical, and was designed to show wliat power they would have after they became fishers of men in drawing great multi- tudes unto salvation. And when Simon told Him, ' We have toiled all night and have taken nothing,' the im- mense draught that was taken at the next haul was in- tended to show that success in catching men would be attended with toil, and many a haul would be made and nothing would be taken; but for all that, perseverance and patience and launching out into the deep — not skim- ming among the shoals, not clinging close to the shore, but going forth into the deep abyss of the world — into the deep hiding places of iniquity, studying and expound- ing satisfactorily the deep mysteries of the Scriptures, and ^ then letting down the net, multitudes would be caught, so great as to alarm and astonish those of little faiths PAKSON BLAIr's SERMON. 121 And the miracle was intended to show that when the net bralve and the ships were at)out sinking, they must not be discouraged, but beckon to their partners in other ships — men of other denominations — to come and help them. There must be concert and assistance. They must mend and repair their frail endeavors, and make sure of the multitudes they could catch. This miracle was before the resurrection, before the sending of the Holy Ghost, when the nets and the ships were not strength- ened by the power that was to come and abide in them. " The other occasion was after His resurrection, at the sea of Tiberias, when they had again set their nets at night and caught nothing. In the morning He saith un- to them, ' Children, have ye any meat V They answered Him, ' No.' Now they were to go forth no more in the night, groping in the dark, and taking nothing, but in the full blaze of day, to throw their nets, made strong and irresistible, and draw ' the net to the land full of great fishes.' And for all there were so many, yet the net should not be broken. They should no more, when asked if they had any meat, answer ' No,' but should have abun- dance. The Master should say unto them, ' Come and dine ;' and when strengthened for the work they would become shepherds of the great flock, and go forth able to obey the commandment, ' Feed My lambs,' and not only the tender, helpless young, but ' Feed My slieep,' the strong and mighty of the flock. "This is a great theme," said he; "We have almost the indefinite multiplication of fishes by other miracles. ' Do ye not understand, neither remember the five loaves of the five thousand, and how many baskets ye took up ? neither the seven loaves of the four thousand, and how many baskets ye took up ?" This is designed to show how the bread of life, the inspiration of holy writ, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, can be multiplied until it 8 122 THE TWO PARSONS. feeds the world. What mighty events flow from small causes, when touched by a ^naster hand ! There is no end to the multitudes that may be fed. If there were ten thousand denominations, a few loaves of this bread of life would feed and strengthen them to mighty works. There is comfort in the tliought that the gospel affords ample food for all, and that it may be multiplied to suit the number and the condition of all, without regard to denomination, age or sex, Jew or Gentile. " There is still another thought. Let down your nets, and drag for them out of the evil net, where they were snared in an evil time, and gi\'e them freedom of life and the joys of salvation. Aye, fish them from their igno- rance, from their bigotry, from their false gods. Fish them from their conceited wisdom; fish them from their vanity and their folly. ' Behold, I will send for many fishers, saith the Lord, and they shall fish them ; and after will I send for many hunters, and they shall hunt them from every mountain, and from every hill, and out of the holes of the rocks.' And as the Lord will fish up Israel from the land of the north and from all the lands whither He hath driven them, and will bring them again into their land, so shall the fishers sent by the Lord Jesus gather the multitudes from all the corners of the earth. Well might Peter say, ' I go a-fishing ;' and well might the other disciples say, ' And we. also go m ith thee.' It was a work worthy of the Lord's disciples. " Fishing for multitudes of fish implies that after they are caught provision must be made for preserving them for future use. And when you are fishing for multitudes of men, provision must be made for utilizing them for the Lord's service. They must be fed with the bread of life, and with the water ' that shall be in them a well of water springing up into everlasting life.' They must be served with the bread and the wine, the body and the PAKSON blair's seemon. 123 blood of Christ ; for He saitli, ' He that eateth Mj flesh and drinketh my blood dwelleth in Me and I in him.' This is the way that men are to be preserved for eternity, Fish are to be salted, that they may be kept for a brief period, but this blood and wine preserveth for ever. But take heed that ye be not offended at this, saith the Lord Jesus. 'It is the Spirit tliat quickeneth, the flesh profit- eth nothing.' I am talking of my flesh and my blood in a spii'itual sense. The spirit and the life are the reality to which you must cling. You utilize men by sending them forth to form other swarms, and construct other hives, and gather honey from all herbs and flowers ; and when they are dead and gone, their good deeds live on, and the evil that they do is often the warning to be shunned ; and tlie thoughts that they uttered become the food for other generations ; and many of those they never littered are stored in books, to live for ever, and generate other thoughts better and more noble." He paused, and said, " Many more thoughts crowd up- on me ; but it is growing late. Our sun may set, but the Sun of righteousness will shine for ever. What in- spiration entered the mind of Addison when he wrote that glorious hymn beginning with these words : ' The spacious firmament on high. With all the blue ethereal sky.' It opens to the soul the contemplation of all the heavenly host and their great Creator," He looked at the sun setting, and then repeated : "'Soon as the evening shades prevail. The moon takes up the wondrous tale. And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth ; 1 24 THE TWO PARSONS. While all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as thej roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.' " How often have I heard Parson Buchanan repeating these words with the greatest gusto ! But I must be- gone." We left him gathering up his fish and tackle, well pleased with the results of the day's work. CHAPTER yill. DINNER WITH MR. MUNFORD. IF, gentle reader, you will accompany us in a pleasant re-union with our kind friends, who are old in years but playful as hoys, we will endeavor more fully to ex- hibit their dispositions and characters. We wish it to be distinctly understood in the outset, that ministers of the gospel in the times of which we are speaking were not so straitlaced in their associations and habits as many of them are at this day. But at the same time we aver that there were no characters, in or out of the church, more exemplary than they. No one was more reverential, more devout, more sin- cerely attached to the great work to which they had de- voted their lives. They were temperate and advocates of temperance in all tilings, but they did not run wild with total abstinence in drinks any more than in meats, Witli whatever class of the community they happened to associate, they set before them in their own lives ex- amples of virtue and purity, and they believed thut each and all could be influenced by them more effectually in this way than by solemn sighing or mournful ejaculations. They not only preached but acted moderation, toleration, simplicity and ease of manner, happy, social and genial intercourse, and they delighted in generous liospitality and true unostentatious charity. Their cheerfulness added zest to their presence, which attracted many to their liberal homes, and induced friends and acquaint- ances to invite them to participate in their innocent 126 THE TWO PAKSONS. entertainments. While they freely conversed about the temporal concerns of their flocks, and the political affairs of the country, when suitable opportunity offered, they mingled pleasant unrestrained allusions to sacred sub- jects, and enforced all by argument and reason, without pretension to superiority of intellect or knowdedge. We think the contrary course, with a domineering dic- tatorial manner, has a repulsive tendency. It prevents ministers from knowing the i-eal feelings and opinions of their congregations, prevents the presentation of both sides of doubtful questions, disgusts the gay and thought- less, and makes men of real talents, and those who take the liberty of thinking for themselves and of judging the motives and actions of men, avoid their society. They are thus left not unfrequently without proper advisers and counsellors, possessing themselves every kind of knowledge except common sense. We return from this digression to Parsons Blair and Biichanan. They did not hesitate to eat and drink with their friends, though they might not be members of their churches. They acted upon the principle that "they that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." Like their Master, they were "not sent to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance." They had both been invited to dine with their friend, William Munford. He had married Sally Kadford, the niece of the excellent wife of Parson Blair, and, there- fore, as well for his own sake as for hers, there was a cordiality inducing unrestrained innocent pleasantries be- tween them rarely excelled. This marriage made him a Winston among the Winstons, at least in their eyes, which they showed by their conduct and devotion. Mr. Munford was at that time a member of the Council of State, and had been elected by the General Assembly as a leading Democrat of the day. We mention this cir- DINNER WITH MR. MUNFORD. 127 ciimstance to explain allusions in his letter of invitation, and to say the party reference was made simply to draw out Parson Blair, and afford him an opportunity to venti- late a little of his humour. The Parsons, though both were Federalists, as was the party name of that day, really took no part in politics other than to run riggs upon their intimate friends of opposite political opinion. The invitations, for the sake of pleasantry, were usually in rhyme, not pretending to the higher strains of poetry. They were written off-hand, and often without regard to measure or rule. We happen to have the note addressed to Parson Blair, and have reason to believe a duplicate was sent to Parson Buchanan, intended as a parody on poetic letters: , "William Munford hopes his reverence will favor him with his company to-day to dinner ; For we are told in the Scripture that a saint may some- times eat with a sinner ; He therefore presumes, that although you are a good Fed. ^ And he a poor Democrat, yet "nay" will not be said. If you come, he will treat you as well as he is able, With some tisli and some flesh and vegetable ; As for drink, he has no better than cogniac and whiskey. But both are strong enough to make a parson frisky. As to fine madeira, burgundy, champagne or claret, A Virginia councillor's salary is not able to bear it. However, to such as he can afford your welcome will be sincere, Which, for a man of your moderation, will be enough to bring you here. 5? The invitation had the effect intended, and called forth the spicy reply about the repentance of political sinners: 128 the two parsons, " Dear Sir : " I've received your poetic and kind invitation To dine, and accept it without hesitation. With your company cliarmed, it ne'er enters my head That you are a Demo., and I am a Fed. ; But when I think on't, with the hope I'm content, That political sinners may sometimes repent. The fare you have named is an excellent dish, And Democracy's self cannot taint a good tish; Your whiskey, kind sir, is an excellent liquor, And the same I believe that made Burns take a 'bicker.* Excuse these dull lines without measure or rule. For the muse is so coy she'll not come into school." Our readers have been able, from the perusal of a f o r mer chapter, to understand the allusion to the muses not coming into school. The truth is, the rhyming vein was so fully developed in him that it came to him naturally, whether in or out of school. He was ever ready for a pleasant rejoinder. The Parsons came to dinner according to invitation, and they walked together arm in arm. It so happened that Parson Blair permitted his little dog Towser to ac- company him ; and they had scarcely entered the room w^ien a beautiful family cat, a pet of Mr. Munford's, which was purring musically in a chair, pounced upon the terrier, and a furious fight ensued. It was with dif- ficulty that peace could be proclaimed by taking puss into another room. "I know," said Parson Blair, "That cat is a Demo- crat." " To be sure she is," said Mr. Munford, " and she had instinct enough to know that little Towser was a Fed- eralist. She couldn't stand that. If, as Plautus says, DINNER WITH MR. MUNFORD. 129 Homo homini ignoto lupus est, is not a Fed. dog a wolf to a Dem. cat V " Ah ! yes," said Parson Buchanan, checking the po- litical reference, " and let us remember, ' In omnibus partihus, esse multos optimos et pessimos homines.'' " " And we may say with equal truth," retorted Parson Blair, " Parmi les animuux. II y a heaucoup de hon chiens et de chats he pins inalinsr And so they had a hearty laugh over that incident. A short time after they had been able ^^ componere lites " between the dog and the cat, a colored boy, who had been raised by the family, and had something of the gentlemanly deportment of servants of the ancient regime, came in with a waiter containing a pitcher of ex- cellent punch, as cool as a plentiful supply of ice could make it. His master immediately poured out for each of his guests and for himself a tumblerful. " Beverley," he said, " set the pitcher on the table, and we will discuss the punch calmly." As the boy did so, he made a respectful bow to each of our Parsons, which attracted their attention. " Is this Evelyn's son ?" said Parson Blair, addressing Beverley and extending his hand — and Parson Buchanan did the same — " Old Fanny's grandson ?" " The same," said Mr. Munford. " She is the greatest aristocrat," said Parson Blair, " that I ever saw. It is a treat to hear her describing the old times — ' ole miss and ole master.' I heard her telling my wife a few days ago how ' ole miss,' in her rich brocade, that stood up in the floor without any support, used to dance the minuet with ' ole master,' in his powdered hair and shorts, when ' they was gals and boys together.' And she said, ' Why, mistiss, there aint nothing like it in these times.' " " I like to hear these old people," said Parson Buch- 130 THE TWO PARSONS. anan ; " but they are passing away. The same levelling spirit that puts down the old time gentleman will wipe out the old time negro too." "Brother Buchanan," said Parson Blair, "you are preaching over your punch, and you are punching cousin Munford's Democracy." And then they would nudge each other, like a parcel of mischievous boys; and we think we hear Parson Blair saying, after his inimitable manner, " Well, well ! dear, dear ! what a fellow you are.' " That is a remarkable boy," said Mr. Munford. " My sisters, Mrs. Kennon and Mrs. Byrd, have, at odd times, taught his mother to read and write, and she has taught him, and with no other assistance; he is not content now unless he is reading Shakespeare or Homer, and he un- derstaiids what he reads. I was engaged in my transla- tion of the Iliad a few days ago, and left it a ^short time ; afterwards, I overheard him repeating a line or two he had thns accidentially seen, and he quoted it with ap- proved emphasis : ' jS^o man can send me hence To Pluto's hall before the appointed time ; And surely none of all the human race, Base or e'en brave, has ever shunn'd his fate.' It has changed my mind, at least about the mulatto ; the infusion of white blood seems to brighten the intellects. On another occasion I overheard him readins: aloud from the scene between Hector and Andromache, when the great hero played with his boy, Astyanax, before he went to battle, and he greatly enjoyed the beauties of the scene. Give them the same education, and after a generation or two, with the civilization they obtain from association with their masters, they will astonish those who maintain that their minds cannot be developed." DINNER WITH MR. MUNFORD. 131 Parson Buchanan said he had seen many strikhig ilhis- trations of this truth. Parson Blair said ho had noticed a slight propensity that these descendants of Cush had for pilfering. "Yes," said Mr. Munford, "but they don't call it stealing ; they call it ' taking,' particularly when it is taken from their masters. As a corroboration of what you say, however, Mr. Blair, my wife, having heard Beverley spouting Shakespeare, went to her store-room to open a jar of brandy peaches, and had just untied the string when she was suddenly called away. As she re- tired, Beverley entered, and linding the door ajar, thought to regale himself with one of the largest and finest of the white heath peaches ; but, hearing his mistress returning, and having no place so handy, he crammed a peach into his mouth, and slipped out of the door, not, however, without exposing at least the shadow of his person. The ladies, like game keepers, being death upon those who poach on their preserves, my wife stopped him in mid career, and asked him what he w^as doing in the closet. " It was as much as he could do to cram the peach in his mouth ; there was no possibility of swallow^ing it, and the inability to make a reply required no explanation, so he simply grinned a ghastly smile. " ' I desire to hear you repeat those lines of Shakespeare I heard you spouting a little while ago, ' He who steals my purse steals trash,' but he who steals my peaches ought to be- — how is it? "He turned on his heel and ran out of the room; but the scene was so ludicrous my wife contented herself with tying up the jar. " In a short time, however, having disposed of the peach, he returned, and very respectfully said, 'Mistiss, I ask your pardon, ma'am. I know if I had asked for a peach you would have given me one, and I am sorry 132 THE TWO PARSONS. • for what I did.' And that was the end of tliat little incident." Parson Blair said, " I am sorry you told me that story before dinner, for if cousin Sally should happen to have peaches, I shall see in my mind's eye that boy spouting Shakespeare, and shall not be able to contain myself. I see his jaws protruding and his eyes nearly popped out of his head now." Dinner was then annoimced, and they passed into the adjoining room and regaled themselves with the fare, nothing having l)een omitted promised by the muses, but many et cmteras added. Peaches were not mentioned, but we noticed Parson Blair cut his eye at Beverley, and there was a playful smile in the corner of his mouth. They repaired to the parlor for a sociable chat. As soon as they entered, little Towser came up, rubbed him- self against their legs, and would have wagged his tail from affection, if it had not been cut off ; but that being impossible, laid himself quietly down on the rug. Pussy looked in at the door, raised her back to its full height, every hair on end, lashed her tail in anger, spit at him, and went off in a fury. Looking first at the dog and then at the cat. Parson Buchanan said, and there was a perceptible playfulness in his manner, " I have been conning the matter over in my mind, and should like to know two things, — first, why they always cut off the ears and tails of terriers '. and next, why a dog when pleased shakes his tail, while a cat when angry shakes hers V Seeing that sport was intended, Parson Blair went into it con arnore. " Perhaps," said he, " it may have been to prevent them from fatiguing themselves by running round and round after their own tails, and biting off their own «ars, when they snap at the flies that light upon them in July." DINNER WITH MR, MUNFORD. 133 "Very unsatisfactory," said Parson Buchanan, with great composure, "it must have been, as they are rat catchers, to prevent the rats from biting their ears and tails." "And of course," said Mr. Munford, "the rats can't bite their legs and heads and bodies, after the ears and tails are cut," '"'■Quod erat demonstrandum^'' said Parson Buchanan, " But why does the dog when pleased wag his tail, and the cat when angry wag hers?" Parson Buclianan looked at Mr. Munford as if he thought this was a poser to his reverence. "That depends, in the case of the dog," says Parson Blair, " upon the fact whether his tail has been cut off or not ; for if he has no tail of course he cannot wag it, and the first problem presupposes that terriers have neither tails nor ears. But if this dithculty is removed, then I can imagine that a pedantic physician, or surgeon, or anatomist would explain it very lucidly thus: 'When the dog is much pleased, the spinal cord, which is a cylindriform column of nerve substance, connected with the brain through the medium of the medulla oblongata, is susceptible to the emotion ; and when that emotion is communicated to the dog's brain, through his sense of sight and smell, the medulla oblongata, which terminates about the first or second lumbar vertebra, in a slender filament of gray or vascular substance, the filum terminale which lies in the midst of the roots of many nerves, forming the cauda equina, become affected, and then an uninterruupted con- tinuity of nerve fibres, essential to the condition of im- pressions, are transmitted through the nerve vesicles of the spinal cord to the filaments and cord of the tail, and the reflex action of the brain produces its vibratory mo- tion, which continues like a pendulum, until tl:e pleasur- able sensation ceases," 134 THE TWO PARSONS. Parson Bncdianan nudged Mr. Munford, and said, " Hear him ! " " But in the case of the cat," said Parson Blair, witliout noticing the interruption, "inasmuch as the spinal cord is capable of conducting impressions arising from nervous excitement, and the cat is supposed to be irate, the nerve corpuscles and filaments connecting them, receive the irate impressions, and all impressions made upon the brain are bj reflex action communicated to the peripheral extremities, and the stimulus of the irascible will excites the action of the muscles, supplied from it with motor nerves ; and the caudal cord is lashed to and fro as long as the anger remains." " And this fascinating and extremely lucid reasoning," Baid Parson Buchanan, " is perfectly satisfactory." " And this convincing and powerful argument," said Mr. Munford, " for want of refutation, is irresistible. We see now why the equine species switch their tails when the flies bite ; why the bovine races curl their tails when they are on a rampage ; why the pig twists his tight when he is eagerly trotting along the highway look- ing for corn ; and why the peacock opens his like a fan when strutting in front of his dames. The medulla ob- longata is softened in each case, and the marrow of the back-bone becomes the thermometer which raises or de- j)resses the tails of all animals under all circumstances." Parson Buchanan threw himself back in the large arm diair, and said, " I'll take care how I propound a philo- sophical question hereafter. Certainly not in this learned presence." " Naturalists contend," added Parson Blair, " that ani- mals have no reasoning powers, but are prompted in their actions entirely by instinct, and do not reason, which, in many animals, I think is a great mistake. I have seen them exert their reasoning faculties unmistakably. When DINNER WITH MR. MUNFORD, 135 I am about to leave home, to prevent Milo following me, I have turned him back and shut the front gate, and there he stands perfectly passive, yet saying to himself, ' You think you have stopped me up, do you ? I know you are watching me, Init as soon as you get out of sight, I shall find the way out easy enough.' And no sooner do I tui'n the corner than he whips around to the back gate, and is ahead of me more than a half -square in a giffy ; and when he sees I do not order him back, comes up to me wagging his peripheral extremity ; and then, playing around, he says, as plainly as I could say, ' I got the better of yon that time, old fellow.' " And then they laughed and playfully recounted the won- dei'ful actions and curious tricks of all sorts of animals. " I have seen it in dogs and horses over and over again." continued Parson Blair. " A short time ago two or three of my neighbors' sons, not accustomed to shooting on the wing, begged me to loan them Milo. In great glee, away they went, dog and boys together — Milo, as soon as he saw the guns, frantically joyous. He very quickly found a covey of birds, and bang, bang went the guns, and away flew the partridges — not a feather touched. Milo looked blank, and listened — no fluttering could be heard. He remained still until they reloaded, and said to himself, '^ This is an accident ;' then circled around, and soon found a single bird, which had been scattered from the flock. He has a fine nose ; never flushes — is dead staunch at a stand. All came np, and they had a fair shot. Bang, bang again, and the same result. Upon which, Milo said to himself, (I know he said it,) ' It is wasting time to hunt with you.' And without more ado he trotted deliber- ately home, and all the whistling, calling, and chasing in the world had no effect to divert him from his purpose. ' That's not the way my master shoots. I shall have no 136 THE TWO PARSONS. full with you/ I know he thought it, and the boys con- curred with him in that opinion." And here Mr. Munford said, " I have driven a steer out of my lawn, when in the country, and chased him in a rage to punish him for having destroyed my shrubbery. But he knows he can outrun me, and he runs just fast enough to keep out of the reach of my stick. As I in- crease my speed, he doubly increases his, curling his tail, or, as Mr. Blair would say, his cauda bovina; he makes directly for the water, and runs in up to his neck, where he knows I cannot follow, and then waits, as if perfectly unconcerned, until I am compelled to give it up in dis- gust. This is not only an exertion of reason, but it is cunning and deception and amusement, and a disposition to annoy, as well as a determination to obtain a choice bite which he relishes. ' Look at that old booby,' he says to himself, ' he is sitting on that stump pretending he will sit me out, and thinks I will go away. I am keeping off the flies, and it is very pleasant in the water this hot day. I know he is too busy to sit there. I am amused at his impotent rage. He is getting fidgety already.' As soon as my back is turned, he is industriously cropping the grass and shrubbery again. And you tell me this is no- thing but instinct !" " But there is this diiferenee," said Parson Blair, " be- tween human beings and animals, you cairt make a bar- gain with an animal. You may train them to do certain things to a certain extent, but their natures will tell against the training. Solomon has said, however, ' Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.' Brother Buchanan, this is a o;ood theme for a sermon." And the good man, who had been fondling Mr. Mun- ford's little boy, placed his hand upon his head, and in his mellow tones, such as he used in the pulpit, said^ DINNER WITH MR. MUNFORD. 137 " You may enforce your text, brother, by that otlier not less forcible one addressed to the young, ' Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them.' This is in the last chapter of Ec- clesiastes, and the preacher sums it all up with an admo- nition — Tear God, and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.' " We venture to say, though the remark was not address- ed to him, and no other application was made of it further than by placing his hand upon, the lad's head, that these w^ords sank deep into his heart, and time has not oblite- rated them from his mind to this day. CHAPTER IX. MK. KUTHERFOOED'S CONNECTION WITH OUR PARSONS.— THE ORATORY OF SAMUEL D. DENOON. WE have said, in a previous chapter, that the Win- stons were so intimately connected, both by af- fection and business, that it was absohitely necessary to know them thoroughly to understand the motives by which they were actuated. Their business transactions, though apparently without the least connection, were yet of the greatest importance to the interests of them all. Though Parson Buchanan was in no way related to them, yet the intimacy betw^een himself and Parson Blair threw him frequently into the society of Parson Blair's bro- thers-in-law, and made him acquainted with their views, their hopes, and their pleasures. We have said that Mr. Thoiuas Rutherfoord married Miss Sarah Winston, Parson Blair's wife's sister, and that Mr. Radford had married Miss Rebecca Winston, another of the sisters. We shall now see how these cir- cumstances influenced the affairs of both the Parsons. In the summer of 1793, Mr. Rutherfoord, for the benefit of his wife's health, accompanied by some friends, paid a visit to the Green Springs, in the county of Louisa, at that time the resort of many of the best fami- lies from the city of Richmond, seeking either health or pleasure. Among the rest were old Col. Ilarvie, the father of Gen. Jacqueline B. Ilarvie; Mr. Archibald Bryce, of Goochland; and the two brothers Alexander MR. RUTHERFOORD's CONNECTION WITH OUR PARSONS. 139 and John Buchanan. Mr. James Buchanan, the eldest of the brothers, died but a short time before, leaving the bulk of his property to his brother John. In their conversations they naturally alluded to the pleasant recreation thej^ were then enjoying. They felt that relaxation from business, freedom from the cares of life, a change of air, and new scenes and company pro- duced a buoyancy of spirit which contributed more to health than the use of the waters. It was a delight to be freed from the dust and heat of the city. Perhaps to a confirmed invalid who required renovation, who was radically out of order, some of our celebrated mineral waters would act like a charm ; but in general it was the jolting over rough roads, the change of diet, and the new atmosphere that improved the health and gave vigor to the mind. Mr. Rutherfoord said he had frequently noticed that a change from one house to another, and sometimes, if only for a mile or two, from the town to the country, was of incalculable advantage to children. He had experienced great uneasiness from the extreme illness of several of his children, who revived in an hour after a change of place. Their little lungs seemed to expand with the oxygen inhaled, their appetites were restored, and from mere skeletons they would become ruddy and plump in a very short time. He was anxious, he said, to purchase some place near the city, to which he could retire at his pleasure, without being forced to leave his business. "Kow," said he, addressing himself to Parson Buchanan, "you have just such a farm as I want, and I should be much pleased to buy it, if you could be induced to sell. There is a delightful spring upon it, such as is rarely met with in the neighborhood of a city, bold, limpid, and as cool as ice; a good site for a house, with shady trees in abundance, fruit trees of many varieties, and nothing in 140 THE TWO PARSONS. the world to make it unhealthy." "You are so different from other purchasers," said the Parson, "praising in- stead of depreciating what you wish to purchase, that I am almost tempted to oblige you; but nobody can pur- chase that piece of land. I acquired it as a gift from my lamented brother James, and I now put upon it the pre- tixmi affection is, which renders it unsalable during my life." On which his brother Alexander observed : " Well, Mr. Rutherfoord, you can buy a hundred acres from me which will suit you better, as it is nearer town, and I shall sell it for what it is worth, without any pretixiin affectionis. Tliere is no house, except an overseer's house; no fine spring, nor shade, nor fruit trees; but the price will be lower on that account, and it will bring, more in future, When the city advances westward, as it certainly will." On further inquiry, Mr. Rutherfoord ascertained from Mr. Buchanan that it was an hundred acre lot, running into the town, and bounded by the Westham road; that he w^ould take eight hundred pounds for it, payable in two years without interest, and if desired he would wait three years longer on interest being added. Subsequently, after examination, when Mr. Kuther- foord was ready to make the purchase on the terms men- tioned, Mr. Buchanan, at the instance of our estimable Parson, with great liberality, agreed to add to the hun- dred acre lot certain other lots adjoining it which he owned, without additional price, and the purchase was consummated. Col. Harvie afterwards purchased a considerable farm adjoining this tract, and running down to James River, embracing the land now known as Hollywood Cemetery, in which in by-gone days the old family burying ground was located, and which was retained for that purpose, and remains undisturbed to this day. Mr. Ruth erf oord MR. RUTHERFOORd's CONNECTION WITH OUR PARSONS. 141 and Col. Harvie and their families became warm and in- timate friends. Very soon after this purchase, Mr. Rutherfoord built the house he so long occupied on west Franklin street; and in 1796 took possession of his new residence, and lived there in comfort aud elegance. Though we do not always see how we are benefited at the time, and often repine over our sufferings, yet it not unfrequently hap- pens that in after life, in looking back on our career, we not onl}'' discover the personal advantages we derived, but the benefits resulting to our friends, or to those who are near and dear to us. We have been surprised at the extent to which mere etiquette, or a punctilious regard for the niceties of pro- fessional intercourse is carried, particularly bj' the medical faculty. It sometimes induces the best of them to dis- regard the courtesies and even the charities of life. We record an incident of this kind for the benefit of those who do not view such circumstances in the light in which we regard them. On the night of the 27th of December, just after Christ- mas, when we are more disposed to be merry and to pass off a cold evening in a comfortable way with a few friends, Mr. Rutherfoord was invited by Mr. Abram Venable to come down to Mrs. Randolph's boarding house to play a quiet game of whist, and partake of a bowl of egg-nog, such as Mrs. David Meade Randolph, in her palmiest days, could brew. They were to have a quartette of old cronies, a clean hearth, a blazing fire, and the very rigor of tlie game. Mr. Rutherfoord was fond of such a game in those days, and about six o'clock in the evening was on his way to fulfil his engagement. The night was cloudy, very dark, exceedingly cold, and portending snow. He was wrapped in an overcoat, folded over his arms, and in con- 142 THE TWO PARSONS. sequence of the cold hurrying on rapidly. Through the square — the greater portion of which is now owned by the descendants of that honorable and valued citizen, Wm. C. Allen, — there ran a path diagonally across from Frank- lin to Main street, from which, on the day before, had been taken a load of gravel, leaving a fall of about two feet. Heedless or ignorant of this obstruction, he hurried along without perceiving the declivity, and slipping, lighted on a rolling stone, which caused him to fall. The sudden- ness of the jolt, combined with the hardness of the frost, caused the fracture of both bones of his right leg;. Un- conscious of the injury he had received, he attempted to rise, but found he could not place his foot to the ground, and there being no one near, was compelled to cry out for help. An old negro man first came to his assistance, who, supposing he had found a drunken man, made light of his condition; l)ut after being told the truth of the case, of- fered to go to the nearest house to procure additional aid. While he was gone, a gentleman on horse-back, who had also heard his outcry, rode up and en(]uired, " Who are 3"0u 'i " Mr. Rutherfoord recognizing the voice, replied, " Dr. Leiper, I must ask your assistance. I have broken my leg.'' He immediately dismounted, and recognizing his friend, said he would give him all the aid in his pow.er. By this time the negro, with several gentlemen from the house to wdiich he had gone, came to see what was the matter. With great care and attention they carried him to the house of Mr. Carter, at which tlie gentlemen had been assembled for the purpose of spending a sociable evening. Mr. liutherfoord, anxious to be at home as soon as possible, and to save troul:)le to his new acquaint- ances, enquired of Dr. Leiper if he eoidd not set his broken limb, and whether he might not be carried home before the operation was performed. The doctor said it MR. RUTHERFOOEd's CONNECTION WITH OUR PARSONS. 143 would be best; that he was going to Mrs. Singleton's, at the corner of Fifth and Main streets, only one square off, where he would be detained but a few minutes, and would be at Mr. Ilutherfoord"'s as soon as they could take him there. Accordingly, preparations were rapidly made ; the gentlemen soon came with a table covered with blankets which were wrapped entirely around hijn, and all of them assisted in carrying him home, a distance of about a half mile. They waited a considerable time after their arrival for Dr. Leiper's return, the fractured limb causing intense suffering. These gentlemen then united in advising that another surgeon should be called in. Out of sheer respect for Dr. Leiper, Mr. Rutherfoord again waited ; but at last, the pain becoming excessive, he sent for Dr. Cringan, who, on his arrival, having heard that Dr. Leiper had been present and promised to return, expressed an unwill- ingness to perform the operation on account of profes- sional eti(|uette. He said, however, he would make all necessary preparations, to avoid loss of time after the doctor's arrival. Everything being in readiness, the gentlemen insisted that common humanity required that no longer delay should be made. Thus repeatedly urged. Dr. Cringan proceeded to perform the operation, which waa attended with much troul>le, and great pain to the sufferer. What a srlorious advantage the use of ether and of chloroform has been in these days ! The idea that the nerves of sensation should be held in abeyance while the nerves of motion continue to act, is indeed wonderful. That the tongue should move and utter sensible sentences, and yet that the mind should be unconscious of its utter- ances, and the body deprived of its feeling, is one of those mysterious things in man's organism that can scarcely bo realized. That the whole system should be relaxed, every 144 THE TWO PARSONS. muscle unstrung, consciousness gone, and yet the heart perform its functions, and the circulation be can-ied on, and the lungs play as usual, is wonderful. That the senses should be aliv^e, and yet that the person under the influence of these powerful agents cannot see, hear, smell, taste, or feel ; that the most painful surgical operations may be performed, bandages placed around the parts, re- quiring the body to be moved and turned, without per- sonal knowledge, and that the agents should be harmless after their effects have passed away, shows the march of sciencic, and the blessing of heaven in bestowing such gifts to man. The heart is impelled to adoration and praise. The operation of setting Mr. Rutherfoord's leg, how- ever, had been performed without these aids, and the gen- tlemen who assisted in carrying him home contributed, by all the means in their power, to lessen his pain, and to give comfort to himself and to his anxious wife. The doctor had been careful, attentive, kind, and to all ap- pearances the operation had been skilfully performed, and the patient was comparatively comfortable. When the friends who had kindly acted the part of neighbor to him whom they had found on the wayside in suffering and pain were in the act of departing. Dr. Leiper arrived. Dr. Cringan explained to him the cir- cumstances under which he had acted, invited him to ex- amine and see whether the operation had been performed to his satisfaction, stating that he was acting for him, and had delayed until he had supposed some pressing case had prevented his return, and even then he had not acted until urged by the remonstrances of the gentlemen present. Without apology or explanation he declined making any examination into the case. Mr. Kutherfoord invited him to call and see him the next day, to which he replied, he would come and see him as a friend, but never MR. KUTHERFOORd's CONNECTION WITH OUR PARSONS. 145 again as a physician. He was as good as his word, for he never afterwards visited the family as a physician. Now the question arises, must a man, when he re- quires the aid of a physician or surgeon, because he cannot get that aid in a reasonable time, abstain from sending for another? He may risk his own life, if he pleases ; but has he a right to risk the life of his wife or his child, and suffer the anxiety of a husband or father, for another's whim or pleasure, or even necessary deten- tion, no matter how good an excuse he may have ? We say that common sense and feeling answer in the nega- tive. If the physician or surgeon come in good faith, in a reasonable time, he ought to be compensated ; but he has no riglit to exclusive preference. There is another question: Ought the physician last sent for to wait at all if the patient require immediate assistance? We have no hesitation in answering in the negative. There should be no etiquette in the matter. The patient is responsible for the action, and not the physician. We return to our friend Mr. Rutherfoord. A short time before the accident occurred, Mr, Alexander Buch- anan and his brother had become frequent visitors at Mr. Rutherfoord's, and an intimacy sprang up between the Parson and himself, which continued with increasing af- fection as time sped on. Mr. Alexander Buchanan still owned a square of land in the city, below Mr. Rutherfoord's, on the north side of Franklin street, lying between Franklin and Grace streets, containing two acres, being the square on which Linden Row now stands; and in a casual conversation he mentioned that he desired to sell it. It was natural that Mr. Rutherfoord should desire to induce his friends to settle in his neighborhood and to build good liouses. It would gratify his wife to have her sister only a few doors off, and the family circle would be cemented by the plea- 146 THE TWO PARSONS. sant intercourse of mutual friends. Mr. Rutherfoord, therefore, mentioned these facts to his brother-in-law, Mr. Radford, and advised him to buy it, which he ac- cordingly did, for the sum of eiglit hundred dollars, being at the rate of two hundred dollars a half-acre, in one of the most elevated and beautiful parts of the city. Mr. Kutherfoord at the time of the purchase was confined to the house, and continued for a great portion of six months on his crutches, without the ability to attend to business. In the mean time, the Legislature of the State passed an Act for the establisliment of a Penitentiary, and au- thorized the executive to procure a suitable site for its location. It must be observed, that at that time there were not more than three or four houses from Fifth street to Mr. Rutherfoord's own dwelling, and that this portion of the city was looked upon as being in the country, the elite of the population, as a general thing, living below Ninth, and cliiefiy on Main street. Mr. Radford, therefore, without considering, or consulting Mr. Rutherfoord, or mentioning his intentions to any of his friends, offered the square he had just purchased to the Governor, James Wood, as a suitable site for the Penitentiary, and the proposition was readily accepted. After the bargain was consummated, Mr. Radford communicated tlie fact to Mr. Rutherfoord, affording to him and his family the prospect of a Penitentiary, in which the worst criminals in the land were to be incar- cerated, and by the doors of which tliey w^ould have to pass the residue of their lives in going to and returning from business, or on jaunts of pleasure, thus deterring fi'iends from visiting them, preventing all who might de- sire to build and improve that part of the town from investing in the lots, and destroying the value of the property he owned in that vicinity. Of course this was MR. RUTHERFOORD's CONNECTION WITH OUR PARSONS. 147 calculated to disturb and distress any man, particularly one who had become nervous by pain and the worries of inability to attend to his own affairs, and more especially when he had hoped to have a friend and companion as his neighbor. As soon as Mr. Radford perceived that the wliole family connection was annoyed and disconcerted Dy his sale, and how mortified Mr. Rutherfoord was, he apolo- gized in the most sincere manner; said it never occurred to him that it would give his friends the least concern, that he thought the State would erect an ornamental building which would improve that part of the city, and he should obtain individually a handsome profit on his recent purchase. Since, however, it was so thoroughly distasteful to those he wished to please, he promised if possible to induce the executive to cancel the contract. Upon applying to Governor Wood and stating the cir- cumstances as they really existed, the governor said he was willing to abrogate the contract, provided another site should be furnished in lieu of the one purchased which he might consider equally eligible. Mr. Rutherfoord agreed to take the square off Mr- Radford's hands at the price he had obtained from the State; and offered, in lieu of the two acres purchased by the State, the present site of the penitentiary, with up- wards of twelve acres of land. The State paid two hun- dred dollars difference on account of some valuble timber then on the new site. Thus the contract was annulled satisfactorily to all parties. We have stated all these facts to show the character of the man who was so long honored and beloved by many of the best and most talented citizens of Richmond, and for the further purpose of showing how it affected and benefited Parson Blair. After the conveyances had been made, so sensitive was 148 THE TWO PAKSONS. Mr. Kiitherfoord, that he determined it never should be said that he had gotten possession of this square from any sellish or improper motive. The chief reason as- signed by himself was, that he had felt under many ob- ligations to his friend, Mr. Blair, for the kindness and consolation afforded him during his severe sufferings; and having wished for an opportunity of making him a suit- able testimonial, he divided the square into four half-acre lots, and gave one to each of Mr. Blair's children, — John G., Sanuiel Jordan, James and Betsy, — in fee simple. We will state in passing, that at a subsequent day, these lots were sold for the benefit of these children, at the price of about ten thousand dollars each, making forty thousand dollars, given from motives like these. He acted upon the principle, "Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth." Few persons ever knew of these circumstances. On the property purchased from Mr. Buchanan, there stood within our recollection a wooden building, in very good order, which had been used for his overseer and family. After it became the property of Mr. Ruther- foord, he heard of a verj^ respectable lady, — a widow who had seen better days, — a Mrs. Denoon, whose husband had been the editor, or at any rate was connected with the editorial department of the newspaper called the Aurora., in Philadelphia; and who having died, had bft his widow with several children, uneducated and nearly in a destitute condition. Mr. Kutherfoord offered her this house as a residence, free of rent, and she resided there for many years, supporting herself almost entirely by her needle, and such assistance as the family of Mr. Rutherfoord and other kind neighbors freely and con- stantly afforded. Her two sons had received little or no ■education, but being industrious boys, had been placed as apprentices, the one under McNaught, a first-rate gun- THE ORATORY OF SAMUEL D. DENOON. 149 smith, and the other became a brass and iron founder, — manufacturing grates, fenders, fire-irons and ahnost all the essentials in his line for kitchen furniture. They were both doing well, when, without fault, the oldest was killed by a gun-shot by McNaught, with whom he was apprenticed. We only allude to this without giving particulars, our object being to detail an occurrence to the honor of the other, the younger son, Samuel D. Denoon. Having at- tended strictly to his business and prospering in the world, he began to increase his fortune, and became, for a long time, the stay and prop of his mother in her old age. He was really an extraordinary man, having one of the strongest minds and possessing the most original thoughts and the most original manner of expressing them that ever came under our observation. On one Christmas Eve, we were spending the evening with Mr. Rutherf oord and his family, when all were happy, having a good time generally. The dooi- bell rang, and a servant was ushered into Mr. Rutherfoord's presence^ bearing one of the handsomest and most ornamental brass fenders we ever saw, a set of brass mounted fire-irons to match, a brass footman, coal-scuttle and blower, all made by Mr. Denoon's own hands, and of exquisite workman- ship. They were accompanied with the following note : " Christmas Eve. " Thomas Kutherfoord, Esq. : ^'Dear Sir. — I send you a small Christmas present as a specimen of my workmanship ; not so much for the work- manship either, as from a feeling of gratitude for your kindness to my mother and her children, when she had few friends, who came like angel visits from the far off firmament. She still remembers you. She has impressed 150 THE TWO PARSONS. it upon me not to forget you. Accept these as a poor return from your friend, " Samuel D. Denoon." We saw the big tears roll down the cheeks of the worthy man when he read the note, and he told the ser- vant to say to his master, he would write him an accept- ance in the morning. We have gone out of our way to mention these little circumstances, because we consider the gift and the letter a feather in any man's cap, making such a return, accom- panied by kind and natural words, thirty odd years after, for benefits received by his mother and family, for which no return was ever expected. He possessed a kind heart ; was fearless and indepen- dent ; and though he had not words to express his strong feelings, his principles w^ere of the highest ordei". He was a Democrat to the core, and often spoke to thousands in times of high political excitement, often to their edifi- cation, often to their infinite amusement. When he first began to speak, he was the laughing-stock of the crowd, but as he became more familiar with language, and listened to the oratory of others, he improved daily ; and while at first he was called " Orator Denoon " out of de- rision, at last his oratory was invoked to aid the cause. He would be listened to with astonishment for his bold thoughts, his striking and sometimes ludicrous figures and fancies. He did not think as other men thought ; his conclusions did not flow from his premises ; but there was a mixture of good sense and an indescribable flow of incongruous words. The association of ideas in his mind was wholly unlike that of any other mortal, and hence his speeches defied the skill of all the reportorial fraternity. We will give a few choice extracts w^hich we remem- THK OKATOEY OF SAMUEL D. DENOOJST. 151 ber. He had been appointed by the then governor one of the directors of the penitentiary, on account of his pe- cuHar fitness as an artisan to estimate the value of the fab- rics that were manufactured by the convicts ; and an ex- cellent director he made. At the expiration of the gub- ernatorial term, the succeeding governor did not renew the appointment, but gave the office to another. The consequence was that the governor was handled with gloves oif by Denoon on all suitable occasions. A short time afterw^ards, in a conversation with the governor, he asked us if we were aware of the fact that Denoon had left the Democratic party and turned Whig. We at once declared such an act an impossibility. N^o money could buy, and no temptation induce such action on his part. We stated to the governor that, in conse- quence of Denoon's removal from office, we knew he had denounced him, and that was the extent of his tergiver- sation. The governor, liowever, maintained the accuracy of his information. On tlie next day we happened to pass his foundry, and Denoon was standing at the door. We stopped, and, slapping him on the shoulder in a familiar way, said, "Sam, we have been told by a gentle- man high in authority, who ought to know, that you have turned Whig." He turned square to face us; then slowly placing his right hand inider the hollow of his left arm, he brought his left arm underneath the right, and placed his right hand over the left arm, thus majestically enfolding his person ; then straightened himself to his full height, and in a tone of solemn import, betokening deep feeling, broke forth slowly : "Sir, my father edited the Aurora, in Philadelphia, in high party times, and put forth pure Democratic prin- ciples; my mother was brought up at the feet of Game- aly-al. The wind bloweth whither it listeth, and whistleth 152 THE TWO PAKSONS. through the tops of the trees ; but when my body is laid low under the clod of the vale it will utterly refuse to manure Whig ground." After that we said : " We will take our oath that your mind never conceived such a thought." His defence was perfect, and could not be excelled. On another occasion, he was speaking to the Demo- cratic Association in Richmond, when Mr. Thomas Kit- chie, who was the very life and soul of the association, and who generally opened the ball at their meetings, said some people pretended to believe that Henry Clay would be elected President of the United States, and he called upon his friend Mr. Denoon to say what was his opinion on the subject. Mr. Denoon immediately responded. He said he had been in constant correspondence with his friend Silous Wright, of New York; with another friend, Martin Van Buren; with Mr. George M. Dallas, and other lead- ing men of liigh standing, who were not mud-gutter poli- ticians, lambasterading on both sides of the fence, and who were not cohorting with the collapsed flue of the damned, and they each and all scorned the imputation. "But," said he, "Mr. President, the immortal Spartan band of Richmond, who rode upon a chaptered railroad company to vote against the inderrated Henry Clay, con- vinces me by their indermitable spirit that the God of battles are with us." This was received with thunders of applause scarcely conceivable, and he was encored to the tip-top of the echo. But he went on without noticing the encore, and soon brought down the house in a perfect uproar. He never cracked a smile; he was in dead earnest; and the words came hissing hot from his overburdened heart. We will illustrate our notice of this extraordinary man by one other quotation from a speech delivered at THE ORATORY OF SAMUEL D. DENOON. 153 the African churcli to at least tM'o thousand hearers. He first stated the fundamental principles by which he thought the general government should be guided; and then went on, asserting that if they departed from these principles they became usurpers; that usurpers stepped up to the platform of tyranny, and raised the red flag at which even a bull Mould poise his horns and throw up the dirt in token of defiance; and if the people did not tear that red flag to tatters they would become abject slaves. " As for me," said he, " when that day comes, and the tyrant is enthroned, I shall leave the unbounded limits of this American continent, and I shall go — yes, sir, I'll go " — and he paused a second time, and then in a climacteric tone — "I'll go to the fertile plains of Han- Over, where the watermelons do grow and where the huckleberries flourish, and, basking in the sunshine of my own vines and flg trees, I'll robe myself with their umbrageous foliage. Then, sir, I will stand on my own pedestal, and work out my own salvation!" This style of oratory cannot be told effectively. The earnestness of the man; the tone, the gesture; the breath- less suspense of the hearers; the wonder at what will come next, and the total surprise of the conclusion, carries everything before it like a tornado. And yet a dignified wave of the hand, and they would hang in anxious ex- pectation for something equally strange, unique, and fanciful. 10 CHAPTER X. RICHMOND L. I. BLUES' DINNER. IT is a great pleasure to us, and we hope will Ije to our readers, to see how a parson can pass through the ordeal of public as well as private celebrations and merri- ments. The test of the propriety of these things depends upon the ability to do good amid the surroundings in which they may be placed, and the self-control and con- trol over others which they can exercise. If they find it impossible to control themselves, and cannot resist temp- tation, they have no business with the clerical robes. To obtain the control of others it is necessary to go where men are seen in moments of relaxation, and when freed from usual restraints. Unbending themselves, they may exercise all the influence in their poM^er with judgment and discretion, with mildness and persuasion, by exam- ple and by precept. If they have tact and common sense, their position will give them the advantage ; and when that control is obtained, they can wield the greater power, because they will then act on numbers and masses, who move like waves of the sea with concentrated energy. Such an opportunity was afforded oul- estimable friends iby the Richmond Light Infantry Blues, who were then in full feather, under the command of their popular cap- tain, William Murph3\ This volunteer company is well known throughout the State, and its fame has extended, as it justly deserves, into the neighboring States, and will be transmitted to posterity in the records of history. It RICHMOND L. I. BLUEs' DINNER. 155 was commissioned on the 10th of May, 1793, and is in existence at the present day. In those days, when volun- teer companies were few, the ranks of this corps were filled to its complement with the elite of the city. They were not confined to the young men of the day, but men of all ages considered it an honor to be dubbed a " true blue." The anniversary of American Independence ap- proached ; one-third of a century had elapsed, and the government was stable, and rested on a sure foundation. The people were happy and prosperous ; they felt a noble pride in recalling the events of the Revolution, and re- counting the glorious deeds of their fathers. Everything' was done to honor the day, and all united in zealous ex- ertions to give animation and life to the occasion. It was a day of recreation from business, and save the show and pomp of military uniforms and arms, all was peace and quiet. The uniform of the Blues was very showy, consisting of a dark navy-blue coat with white cassimere facings on the breast ; collar and cuffs confined with globular silver buttons, having stamped upon them the coat-of-arms of Yirginia. The skirt was turned back at the corners, with similar white facings, and a blue cloth star in the centre of the facings. A broad white cassimere stripe ran down the outer seam of the pantaloons. They wore white vests and black stocks ; black leather caps, helmet shaped, with broad bands of leopard skin around them, and a fox-tail over the top. A light-blue plate was in front of the cap, surrounding the American eagle, and emblazoned with the name of the company and date of commission in white letters. On the left- side there was a wide leather cockade, from which sprung a large black plume, eighteen inches high, tipped with several inches of white feathers. We have been thus particular, because in modern times the hand of innovation and fashion has 156 THE TWO PAKSONS. changed the old uniform, and we wish to prolong the re- collection of the days that are gone. The day before the Fourth our Parsons received each an invitation couched in the following terms. The one we happen to have is to the Rev. J. Buchanan. " The Richmond Light Infantry Blues, at their late meeting, instructed me specially to invite the Rev. John Buchanan and the Rev. John D. Blair to unite with them in celel)rating the anniversary of American Independence on the fourth instant, at Buchanan Spring, at two o'clock. In performing this pleasing duty, I will add, that the company will not only be gratified, but highly honored by your presence. A carriage will be at Mrs. Cringan's for your accommodation, and tlie company will escort you from thence to the Spring. " With tlie highest veneration and esteem, I am, " Truly yours, &c., " Wm Murphy, " Captain R. L. I. B^ The invitation 'vvas accepted, and after the usual cere- monies of the day, the evolutions of the military, and fii'ing of the national salute on the Capitol Square, the company, with a platoon of honorary members and other guests on their right, was drawn up in line on Eighth street, between Grace and Franklin, facing west, in front of Mrs. Cringan's door, the house of the lady with whom Parson Buchanan boarded. In a few moments Captain Murphy appeared with our friends, one on each arm,, when the first lieutenant gave the command, " Company, present arms," The salute was acknowledged by the Parsons, each taking off his hat, and the band played a stave or two of " Hail Columbia " in fine style, the cap- tain amd guests passing along the line to the carriage on RICHMOND L. I. BLUEs' DINNER. 157 the riglit, into which they entered. The heutenant tak- ing command, the company was broken into cohimns of platoons, and marched in quick time, with gay music, to their rendezvous at Buchanan's Spring. The farm on which the spring was located was the pro- perty of Parson Buchanan, and from him the spring de- rived its name. The water was pure, transparent, cool .and delightful, embowered under old oaks ; and the place was resorted to by all the volunteer companies on their festive occasions, because of its tine water, magnificent shade, perfect quietude and exemption from dust. By special donation from the proprietor, the Blues had the preference of occupation, and continued its use until within a few years past. There was a spacious wooden shed fitted up especially for these occasions. Arrived within the enclosure, the company stacked arms, and then were brought into line, in single rank, and the captain, with a parson as before on either arm, pro- ceeded down the line, 'introducing them to every man, and an old-fashioned Virginia shake of the hand was given. They had proceeded but a short distance, when Willie Walroun, a Scotchman, — then a young man and lately married — stepped out of the line, and said with great animation, "Why, Parson Buchanan, dinna ye ken me? Why, ye joined our hands, — Betsy and I, — and said, 'Wham God hath joined together let nae man put asunder.' Gie me your hand." And he shook it as 'twould be his last. " Indeed, and I do," said the Par- son, "And I gae ye a bonnie leesorae lassie for your wifie; and ye maun cling till her wi' kindness and affec- tion sae lang as ye baitli shall live." " Sae I will, God willing," said he. A little further on, Peter Boatwright, said, "And Par- son Blair, you christened my little Willie." "And you 158 THE TWO PAKSONS. promised, Peter, to bring him up in the way he should go ; and I told you when he was old he would not depart from it. Mind you keep your promise." " So I will,' he said. " Come and break bread with us," said another ; " And the latch string is on the outside of the door for both of you," said a fourth. "It does me good to see you here," said another; and still another said, "A grip of your hand,, old friends." So they went on, every man giving them a hearty welcome after his own fashion. The company was then dismissed, and the captain said, " I must introduce you, my friends, to an old customer of ours who is never neglected. I present to you the 'Blues' bowl,' and here is Jasper Crouch, the special at- tendant of his majesty." Tiiey both knew Jasper better than they did the bowl. He was a genial mulatto, who officiated at all tlie Blues' dinners, and his appearance showed he indulged in good living and high seasonings. He knew his place, and never transcended the privileges allowed him. This bowl deserves a short notice. It was in the pos- session of the company some time before the period of this celebration, and so continued until the memorable lire which destroyed the Spotswood Hotel, on Christmas Eve, 1870, when it was broken and melted by the fervent heat at that conflagration. Tliere are now remaining but a few pieces, scraped from the embers, and kept as relics of former times by devoted honorary and regular mem- bei-s of the company. This was an India china bowl, with the capacity to hold thirty-two gallons. We have seen it often filled with julep, punch and apple toddy, and once with egg-nog; and we have seen it emptied by enthusiastic admirers. Jasper not only knew his place, but could not be sur- passed in compounding liquors by young or old, or in RICHMOND L. I. BLUEs' DINNER. 159 politeness in serving the company and its guests. When he died, the worthy old man was buried with military honors by the company. On this occasion the bowl was filled with punch, made of the freshest lemons, of Robert Gordon's best old Cog- niac brandy and Jamaica rum, and was mixed by Jasper in the proportion of four-fifths of brandy to one of rum, and a dash of old Murdock Madeira just to give it a flavor and tone, and to take off the fieiy edge. It was made strong and sweet, but reduced by pouring into the capacious bowl at least one-third of transparent ice. It is no easy matter to mix thirty-two gallons of any beve- rage and make it good. Jasper rarely failed. This was the compound, this the vessel which contained it, and this the servitor who filled the glasses. "Jasper," said the captain, "these are our welcome guests, your old friends, who touch lightly, you know. Give them something delicate and nice." "Mars Blair," says Jasper, "yon is a judge. Is de 'I'orna' of de proper flavor^ — is it all smooth and sa- vory ? " " Mars Buchanan, I l^nom you knows what's good. I thinks it's all right. What you say ? " " Couldn't be beat, Jasper," said both of them. Jasper made them a low bow, and smiled wdth a self- satisfied look. "And now, gentlemen," said the captain, "you have seen the elephant; mingle among the men at your ease, and make yourselves at home. But stay : let us pass be- hind the scenes and see what John Dabney is doing." John was the cook — not a French cook, famed for the preparation of confections and made dishes of magnifi- cent names — but a real old-fashioned Virginia cook, who knew how to serve a hospitable gentleman's dinner boun- 160 THE TWO PARSOJ^S. tifuUj, and ill a style that might be creditable to a Lord Mayor or a Queen. " What are yon about, Dabney ? " said the captain. " Giving it the last touch," said John, without turning round, as he poured a bottle of old port-wine into the magnificent pot of green-turtle soup. " Catsup, wine, and some Worcester, Mars Captain, keeps the turtles' ghosts from haunting the men." Then turning, he said, " Lor', if it aint Mars Blair and Mars Buchanan ! I ax your pardon. I wouldn't have mentioned ghosts if I had known 'twas you. I knows you loves fish, Mars Blair. We is gwine to give you sheepshead to-day," " Turtle soup and sheepshead ! " replied Parson Blair. '•'Well! well! That will do, brother Buchanan. We will let the curtain drop now." And they mingled with the men in social chat. In due time dinner was served, our two Parsons seated on the right and left of the captain, and the other guests immediately around them, — the company falling in pell- mell. Turtle and fish then regaled their palates, while punch enhanced the flavor and washed them down. "Now mourn, ye geese; ye turkeys, mourn; And hens for chickens from you torn ; Ye beeves and sheep, your fate lament, And grunt, ye hogs, with one consent ; How bravely were your limbs attack'd, And by the foe in pieces hack'd ! Amidst the busy work of death. At first no mortal paused for breath ; So long, indeed, had been their fasting, Their appetites seemed everlasting." But when appetites are appeased, noise and bustle comparatively cease, and men grow calmer. Then there RICHMOND L. I. BLUEs' DINNER. 161 came a fresh supply of ammunition, and bottles of cham- pagne displayed their gray heads from one end of the table to the other, and the popping of the bottles re- minded one of the running fire from a line of skirmishers who have been pushed forward to bring on a battle." Here Captain Murphy rose from his seat, and said: "As usual. Blues, the committee have prepared'a set of regular toasts in honor of the day ; but desirous of wel- coming our guests before announcing them, they have re- quested me to give this toast. You will do me the favor, therefore, to ' charge your glasses.' I give you : ' The Rev, John D. Blair and the Rev. John Buchanan, recruiting ofticers for a holy army. The bounty they offer for devoted service is a blissful future, without money and without price.' " This toast was received with boisterous applause, and with one voice they called for Parson Blair. He slowly rose, and said : " Gentlemen of the Blues, I glory in being a recruiting officer for a holy army — the emblem on our flag is Peace. In the language of the heavenly host at the birth of our Master, I give you peace, ' Glory to God in tlie highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.' And in the language of the Master Himself, I will say to the tumultuous waves of strife and sin, 'Peace, be still.' " This toast was received evidently with reverence, but it was responded to by rising and giving three cheers with a will. Then before seating themselves, they vociferously called for' Parson Buchanan. He seemed to be thinking for a moment, then raising his face with a beaming smile, rose and said, " Blues, you know the perfect concord that exists between brother Blair and myself, and yet, on this occasion we are ap- parently sundered. He is for peace, I am for vjar." And he paused, to give them time to think of the dif- 162 ■ THE TWO PARSONS. f erence. . " Yes, 1 give you war /" and his voice rang out clear as. the mellow notes of a deep toned bell. "Un- compromising war^ against the devil and his host of sin and iniquity." He resumed his seat amidst roars of laughter; for the surprise was complete, and the turn he gave to their ex- pfi'ctations was extremely felicitous. Tliey gave three tirhes three and a tiger; and the bugle sounded a few animating, war-inspiring notes. Such were the men we are commending, and such their opportunities for doing good. Think you the men of this company did not remember these toasts; think you they did not speak of the sentiments to their friends ; think you they were not restrained from indulging too freely in the bowl by the reverence they felt for these good men? The regular toasts were then announced, and in a short time the troop of (javalry, who had dined at God- din's spring, commanded by that fine ofhcer and accom- plished gentleman, Robert Gamble, came over to help the Blues, as they said, empty their big bowl. The governor at the captain's side, and old Frederick, the black bugler, at the head of the column, playing Wash- ington's march, rode up in fine style. In a short time they accomplished the emptying of the bowl to the en- tire satisfaction of both companies, and in mutual friend- ship and fine harmonious feeling escorted their guests back to the city. While the companies repaired to the Capitol Square to fire the evening salute, our two Par- sons returned together to Mrs. Cringan's, where Parson Blair had the pleasure of finding his good wife. They concluded, therefore, to spend the evening with Parson Buchanan, and recount the pleasant incidents of the day, and laugh over their peaceful and war -like speeches. The evening's entertainment gave rise, as usual, to the RICHMOND L. I. BLUEs' DINNER. 163 following correspondence. The letter of Parson Blair was addressed to Mrs. Cringan : " Dear Madam : "A doubt between my rib and me Arose about last evening's tea, ' It was the best black tea,' she said, ' That ever in the world was made.' 'Black tea,' says I, 'it we'nt black tea.' ' Indeed, indeed it was,' says she. ' Well, well,' says I, ' its not material. But yet, I think it was imperial.' Now pray decide and end the strife Between the husband and the wife, Or else, or else, or else, who knows, But it may come at last to blows ; For many wives have made a clatter About a much more trifling matter. " Yours, Arc, J. D. B." This letter drew forth Parson Buchanan in his first effort at rhyme : " To his reverence, J. D. B., I send a history of the tea. My friend, I tell you in a crack. The tea 1 drank is called the black ; But out of compliment to thee. My hostess gave imperial tea. J. B." This is the old story of the chameleon. One drank black tea and the other imperial — both were right and both were wrong. Thus the difficulty was amicably adjusted, and there was no necessity for resorting to the direful alternative — " Or else, or else, or else." 164: THE TWO PARSONS. While we are relating incidents connected with the Blues, we cannot avoid laying before our readers a poeti- cal letter sent by Parson Blair to Captain Henry S. Shore. This gentleman, you will remember, had married the beautiful sister of Mrs. Blair, and M^as, at the time the letter was written, ma^^or of the city, and had been honored by the Blues by being chosen captain of their company the year preceding the second election of Cap- tain Murpliy. Parson Blair's letter was to congratulate him on his election : "To Capt. Henky S. Shore, of the R. L. I. Blues: " It is ' His Worship ' now no more, But the brave Captain Harry Shore ; Yet still, to raise the title higher, To ' captain ' we may add ' esquire.' And now, with Captain Shore's permission, I wish him joy of his commission. And hope he'll guard his native land Against its foes with sword in hand. No enterprise M'ould /refuse, Back'd hj the gallant Bichmond Blues. "Yom-s, &c., J. D. B." Answer by Captain Shore : " Right Kev'd sir, accept the captain's thanks For verses rare, quite free from 'jests and pranks,' In which it seems, indeed, you scorn to flatter, Yet mix not praise e'en with a spice of satire ; But strange it is, one of your peaceful trade Should thus congratulate a martial blade, Who for the sword his aldermanic gown And honors worshipful has now laid down To lead the dauntless sons of Richmond town. KICHMOND L. I. BLUEs' DINNER. 165t 'Tis stranger still thou should'st in war delight, And be like Jonathan, ' chock full of fight.' What enterprise, dread warrior, wilt thou choose ? Whate'er it be I'll back thee with my Blues ; Whether in battle British troops to maul, Or beat the legions of the furious Gaul ; Or dost thou, in thy bravery, hint to me. That Tny true Blues were better led by thee ? For if they back thee, thou must strut before. And thou their captain be, not Henry Shore. Explain this point, then, as my honor's nice, For men of war will quarrel in a trice ; But if you mean not any competition. Come drink with me success to m^^ commission ; That proof of friendship will suffice, I think ; Bi vino Veritas, we say, who drink. " Yours truly, H. S. S." In reply to which mock sharp and mock heroic epistle, which, from the intimacy existing between the brothers- in-law and their families, was perfectly understood to be not entirely "free from jests and pranks," the following, grave and formal explanation was made: "To Captain Shore: " I acknowledge, sir, with compliments. The receipt of yours of fierce contents ; 'Twas Sunday night it came to hand. An explanation to demand Of some civilities of mine, On your promotion in the line ; Had it come earlier in the dav, I had been filled with such dismay. With fear and wonder so perplexed,. As scarcely to have found my text. 166 THE TWO PARSONS. Thanks to the bearer's kind discretion, For a few honrs of its suppression. 'Tis hard the talent of a poet, Whene'er he takes in hand to show it In civil phrase and courtly letters, Should be mistaken by his betters ; But yet sometimes so high his flight, His meaning is left out of sight. ' Dost thou,' you say, ' in bravery hint to me, That my true Blues were better led by thee. For if they back thee, thou must strut before. And thou their captain be, not Henry Shore.'' Explain this point then, as my honor's nice. For men of war will quarrel in a trice.' Not Agamemnon's self, by passion sway'd, In singular number could so well upbraid. Your daahes too, italic's place supplying. Must doubtless be intended for defying. Good lack-a-day ! What will become of me ? A parson I — a blood}^ warrior he ! For one short moment, pray, keep up your sword ! Captain ! I meant no harm, upon my word. I said not, I was better^ no, nor bolder ; Your own hiice honor'' can but make me older. 'Tis true, when you were in your nurse's arms, I served in war, nor dreaded war's alarms; Yet I boast not of this, I can assure ye, Most noble captain, to be born before ye. Had you been with us, and your gallant train. You would have sav'd us many a hard campaign ; We should have seen you, like the lightning, fly on The roaring, swagg'ring, crouching British Lion ; But when our Washington bade battle cease, I turned attention to the ' trade ' of peace ; In that employment, handling arms no more. KICHMOND L. I. BLDEs' DINiSTER. 167 I take protection under Captain Shore, And hope he will th' ill-gotten power retrench Of up-start Corsican and bloody French; For if not, '/,' much less would he, refuse The gallant action ' backed by Richmond Blues.' This was ' the sum and front of my oifending,' 'No more' — a compliment to both intending.' "J. D. B. "P. S.: "I hope you will not deem me indiscreet. To equal you, in number of your feet ; Your flowing lines with harmony full fraught, Drew me along 'a'maist' before I thought. "KB.: "I hear that since the date of your commission, Your household, too, has had a large addition ; Health to the mother, and young mother Bunch. I'll come at five — have you a bowl of punch. "J. D. B." CHAPTER XL PAKSON BLAIR'S SCHOOL FOR BOYS. WE have said that Parson Blair was in moderate circumstances. Being dependent, as a preacher, upon the gratuitous contributions of his congregation, which were frequently small and not regularly paid, his receipts from this source could not be relied upon for the support of his family, and he was compelled to resort to the occupation of a teacher. He had opened at his own house a private school, at which a limited number of boys were taught ; it being his aim conscientiously to benefit his scholars, and b}^ their advancement in their studies to remunerate the parents and prepare the pupils to become useful citizens in after life. His system was founded on the idea of moral suasion, leading the boys to obedience bv kindness and patience, attracting their attention by rendering their studies intelligible and instructive, and making them perceive the benefit and utility of what they were taught. He possessed the rare faculty of in- teresting the youthful mind upon the subjects before it, and inducing inquiry and investigation under the hope of discovering for itself something new. He delighted in leading the mind to analyze every question, to trace its ramifications, connections and associations, and open up to inquisitive youth new thoughts and suggestions, con- necting and linking them together in a chain of argument for logical deductions. He would say, that whenever he went into a machine-shop, in which the blacksmith was w^orking upon heated metal, and saw at each stroke of PARSON BL air's SCHOOL FOR BOYS. 169 the sturdy arm the sparks flying in every direction and tlie new form given to the shapeless mass, he could not avoid thinking of the youthful minds under his care, with their brains heated by attrition to ductility; and he often thought, when lie saw the sparks elicited, that he was that blacksmith, and ought to prepare and brighten up that malleable brain to be a thing of utility and orna- ment. With such views and aims, it is not remarkable that his boys rapidly improved, and were devoted to him in the school and throughout their subsequent lives. Many of his scholars became men of distinction and in- fluence. We remember to have heard, long subsequent to these times, Joseph Tate, one of his scholars, who in after years was the honored Mayor of the City of Kichmond, refer to scenes that occurred in that old school-room at Parson Blair's with peculiar pleasure. He said there was no teacher in his day who, when he saw a boy did not understand a subject or a word, would take more pains or could make him understand it more thoroughly. His explanations were full, explicit, plain, and covered the entire ground. He knew how to impart knowledge; he knew how to interest and captivate the mind ; he went to the root, and followed its main stem and fibres, and then went up through the body and the limbs to the leaves, the blossoms and the fruit. We remember to have heard that, on a certain occasion, he called up one of his more advanced scholars, who was studying Greek, and said to him: "Jack, here are the words '• Megathumos AcMllexis^ what do they mean? What is the meaning of megathumos V The little fellow looked around to be prompted. Another boy, close to him, said in an undertone, "jPe«r^," and without think- ing, Jack very confidently said, "The peart Achilles.''^ The good man smiled and chuckled inwardly at his own 11 170 THE TWO PARSONS. thoughts. " The peart Acliilles !" this is certainly a new- idea ; well, well !" But instead of flying into a passion, as some teachers would have done, and cracking the boy over the head with the book, he said, in a mild tone, "Come here. Jack; stand between my knees and let us talk it over ; I want you to understand these words. Now, don't wait next time to be prompted by Thom, who, out of miscihief, has misled you, but always look for the words in the diction- ary yourself; and if you cannot find them, or have for- gotten the meaning, say so, and ask me to explain it. It will always give me pleasure to do so. Now listen, and don't forget this as long as you live. In the first place? there is no such word as peart. It is a negroism — a cor- ruption of the word pert. If you ask them how they are this morning, they are apt to reply, 'Why, sir, I feels right peart.' It denotes that he feels not entirely well, but smartly better, tolerably lively. The poet Milton uses it as 'brisk,' 'smart,' 'lively.' Sometimes it signifies over-assuming, over-forward, impertinent. Pert some- times may mean bold and garrulous ; but peart does not convey that idea to me. By and by, when you come to be a man, and associate with men of talents, some one may say, ' What a grand-sounding language the Greek is.' Then he may say, ' What comes nearer to the sense than the sound of the epithet so often applied by Homer to his heroes, and particularly to Achilles?' You know, Jack, that Achilles was a great general. He commanded the myrmidons at the siege of Troy. Homer was the great Greek poet. He calls Achilles '■ Megathumos Achil- leus.^ Do you think it would do to call a general like Achilles the peart 'Achilles? There is something finical, frisky, trifling in the word peart. Would you like to hear any body call General Washington the peart Wash- ington ? It would be supremely ridiculous. The mean- PARSON BLAIR's SCHOOL FOR BOYS. 171 ing of megathiimos is magnanimous. The words them- selves, without knowing the signification, have a grand sound — give the mind an elevating thought of the person to whom they are applied. You are learning Greek; now, you ought to know what megathumos comes from. "Well, listen. It is composed of two words — megas, great, and thumos, the mind. Now, when you look in your Greek dictionary, you will find it megas — magniis^ and thumos — animus. And the English word magnani- mous is composed . of these two Latin words, magnus animus. Magnanimous means greatness of mind. Think about it ; it is that elevation or dignity of soul which en- counters danger and trouI)le with tranquillity and firmness ; which raises the possessor above revenge, and makes him delight in acts of benevolence; which makes him disdain injustice or meanness, and prompts him to sacrifice per- sonal ease, interest and safety for the accomplishment of useful and noble objects. " The same thought is carried out in the French lan- guage. The word in French is wagndnime. Then 7negath'U7nos Achilleus is the magnanimous Achilles. At the same time, I must tell you, when you are able to read Homer easily, you will, I think, perceive that Achilles was not always magnanimous. He was too often hurried into improprieties and wrong by giving way to his passions. No man ought to be carried away by passion. Now, go to your seat, and don't forget as long as you live that megathimios does not mean jo^ar^, " And now, Thom, for your turn. You ought to be ashamed of yourself to prompt Jack wrong, because I know you know better. Never deceive any body, but par- ticularly a friend, my boy. God does not love deception." Boys, as everybody knows, take the greatest delight in playing pranks upon each other, and quizzing is one of the principles by which smart youths are actuated. It 172 THE TWO PARSONS. displays the activity of their minds. This boy Thorn, whom our good schoolmaster had just reproved, was a remarkable boy — very quick, very intelligent, full of fun and mischief. He was a leader in the school, and the boys looked up to Thom whenever any devilment was on foot, to bring them out of the scrape, precisely as brave men look with admiration upon their cavalry leader when he orders them to follow him in a charo-e against the enemy. " Come on, boys,'' he says. They know it is a desperate affair, but they follow, yelling and shouting, expecting that he will bring them safely from the melee. They rely upon his valor, but they rely, too, upon his discretion and judgment ; and if they should perchance be unsuccessful, they feel that he will know when and how to get them out of the difficulty. The boys had half an hour for recreation at midday, and the Parson generally left them to themselves, and did not choose to see the peccadillos of which they would be the perpetrators, nor to hear the noise they would certainly make. The truth was, they made less noise, and were guilty of fewer pranks, because they found it did not annoy him. If it had, their ingenuity would have been brightened ten fold. On this day, however, as soon as the Parson's back was turned, Thom said, " Boys, if you won't tell, I will pour this half -bottle of ink into the pitcher of water, and we will see how the Parson will take it." They were all full of it, and Thom, witliout more ado, carried out his purpose to perfection. "Xow, Bill, when the Parson comes in, ask him if he will take a glass of fresh water, just from the spring." Accordingly, in a minute or two, the little school bell tingled, and they began scuffling for their seats. Bill stepped up and said : " Mr. Blair, will you have a glass of water, fresh from the spring ?" " Yes," said the good man, " I will." The boy poured out the supposed water, PARSON BLAIr's SCHOOL FOR BOYS. 173 and holding it up, expressed great surprise at its color. " It is as black as soot," lie said. The Parson looked at it and smiled. " "Which of you scamps has done this ?" All who spoke denied it. Thom was looking in his desk for a book, and said nothing; but his pretended search did not escape the Parson. He went to the fire, and taking up the poker, put it in where it would quickly heat. " Now," said he, " I don't often notice little tricks done for mischief, because I know it is the nature of a boy to do these little things; it is their fun, and they would not be happy without something of the kind ; but I will venture to say that I can tell who was guilty of this trick. Whoever it was had better confess, for I shall certainly detect the one who did it." Xot one would confess, and it was a principle not to tell tales upon each other. This point he did not press. He knew it was always impressed upon the school boys' minds that they should not tell tales out of school, and nothing was more natural, therefore, than that they should think it equally improper to tell tales on each other in school. He would always say, '' A tale-bearer is a mischief-maker. I do not permit them to come whispering in my ear. The habitual tell-tale is one of the meanest and most despicable char- acters, x^fter a wliile he learns to accuse others falsely, and not unfrequently covers his own sins by imputing them basely to his friends. I do not tolerate tell-tales among my scholars." So, instead of saying, " If you do not tell me who did it,'' he said, kindly, " The boy who did it ought to own it manfully. Well," said he, " I shall subject you all to a test that I know will succeed in discovering the guilty party. You must all of you stand here in a row, with your backs to me, each one holding both hands open behind him." It took some time to arrange them properly and to keep them still. Then, taking the red-hot poker out of the fire and show- 174 THE TWO PARSONS. ing it, he again said : " I shall go along the line, and lay the poker, hot as it is, right in the hands of the guilty boy. I shall not touch a boy who is innocent, but I will lay it in the hands of the one who did it. Be sure you do not look behind, for if you do, I shall suspect that you are guilty and afraid." They stood up, and most of them very firmly. He passed slowly along, as if examining the palms of the hands, and when he came to Thom, he flourished the poker, and Thom jerked his hands in- stantly away. "Aha!" said the good man, "it is you, is it ? You could not stand the test." Thom was fairly caught, and all the boys roai-ed with laughter. The Parson took his seat in his arm chair and ordered all to their seats. " Now, Thom," he said, softening his tone, " I am con- fident you will not commit a similar offence again. Take the pitcher to the spring, clean it thoroughly, and bring a fresh pitcher of pure water ; Wash the tumbler, too. And go and sin no more." Thom did as he was required, and not another word was ever said to him on that subject. The boys enjoyed the joke, and admired the Parson more than ever. How different from the course of many persons we have known in our day. Before punishment, it is dinned into their ears and turned over as a sweet morsel under their tongues. It is a delightful episode. Even after punishment, at every occurrence of the least fault, every previous offence is rooted up from whence it should have been buried and thrown at the offender with a fresh re- minder of harsh epithets and abusive threats. There is no Lethe even for petty offences ; oblivion wipes out no sin, but memory delights in keeping the offence ever green and blooming. At last the offender becomes callous, angry and careless of consequences. He not only don't care, but delights in giving trouble and vexation. PARSON BL air's SCHOOL FOR BOYS. 175 The person thus vexes himself by a continual repetition of evil thoughts and passions, frets the culprit without doing any good, and annoys everybody else who notices his course. Heproof has ceased to have effect, and the reprobate is not changed by such a course as this. Reader, did you ever see anytliing like this ? If you have, let it be a lesson to you ; if you have practised it, pause and reflect. Go, as the good master said, and sin no more. There are occasions, however, when the mildest persons will become fretted. There is nothing more difficult than to control the feelings, if not the passions. We should be more than mortal if a continued I'cpetition of annoyances that excite the nervous system should not sometimes momentarily cause us to give way to exasper- ation. The really good person who is thus led astray repents afterwards most sincerely, and takes himself to task the more severely because he has permitted himself to be fretted by trifles. In grave matters, the man will sometuxies say to himself, " Am I a dog, that I should do this thing ?" resolving firmly in his mind to abstain from it, and then, before he is aware of his own action, he finds that he is the guilty person. " Thou art the man,'^ said Nathan to David. He does not believe it is possible for him to do it. " Though I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee," said Peter. " This night, before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice." In these little matters of the management of boys, our good Parson had often schooled himself to patience and endurance, and had resolved never to show passion or permit anger to control his actions. He called up Williamson, one of the boys, to demonstrate a problem in Euclid at the blackboard. While he was soino- on very well, another boy, Whitlock, sitting a little out of view, at the end of the bench, commenced pinching him keenly. Williamson at first contented himself with 176 THE TWO PARSONS, gently kicking Wiiitlock in return for d^ch pinch. The Parson, not seeing the real offender, gently reproved Williamson. "Attend to your demonstration and quit kicking your neighbor," he said. As soon as the Parson's eye was turned, the little shaver deliberately stuck a pin in Williamson's leg, which made him jump and gave him the desire to scratch his leg, as if a flea had inserted his proboscis exactly in that point of the back which no one can reach with his hands. " What is the matter with you ?" said the Parson to Williamson. Upon which Whitlock stuck the pin deeper ; and the boy, not being able to bear it longer, slapped Whitlock on the side of the head, saying, "Take ihat^ sir." This made the Parson give way a little to anger. "If you do that again," he said, " I will assuredly slap you in return, and you know I do not promise and then fail to comply." There was a tumbler of water near by. Williamson, by this time, having his young blood up, picked up the tumbler and threw the water deliberately into Whitlock's face. At the same moment, to be as good as his word, the good man let fly, and gave Williamson a slap that sounded through the room. Williamson, stumbling over Whitlock, fell sprawling to the floor. All the passion oozed out at the Parson's Angers with the blow ; he went to Williamson and picked him up. Whitlock, immedi- atel}' regretting what he had done, said, manfully, " M:\ Blair, I pinched Jemmy and stuck a pin in him ; he was not to blame. I did it." " Come here, boys," said the Parson. " Kow we are all to blame. Whitlock was wrong to pinch and stick Jemmy. Jemmy was wrong ; he ought not to have slapped George in the face and ought not to have tlirown the water. I was wrong not to have investigated the matter and ascertained the cause of such unusual behavior; and then I was to blame for giving way to excitement. 1 sincerely regret what I did, PARSON BLAIR's SCHOOL FOR BOYS. 177 and I think we have all cause for regret. Let it sink into our hearts, and be a lesson to all for the future." We happen to know, from hearing these boys speak of it in after life, that the mildness of the good man and his subsequent course made them both love him with sincere affection ; and when they were grown men, they would sometimes recall the circumstances to the good Parson himself, and they would have a merry laugh over the event. We have seen, and everybody knows, the habit of boys at school to prompt each other — sometimes with a real desire to help their comrades out of difficulty, sometimes, from sheer mischief, to get them into trouble. Whitlock, as we have just had occasion to know, was a generous boy, but a very mischievous one, and when the boys were all playing together, used to say, " What do you all stand up like fools for when you are stumped ?" (or caulked, as they sometimes call it.) " Why don't you say some- thing ? I always growl or mumble something or other, and appear to know, if I don't. I am not going to stand still like a gump and bite my fingers." The next time the history class was called up to recite, little Bedloe Dunscombe was singled out. " Bedloe, who was the first historian of Virginia?" " Who was the first V said Bed, repeating the question. ■•' Yes," said the Parson, " I desire to know who was the first person who gave an account of what was done — of what happened after our forefathers landed at Jamestown." Bed, to gain time, looking at Whitlock anxiously, said, in an enquiring manner, " When they landed at James- town ?" " Yes," said the Parson, patiently. " Who was the first Virginia historian ?" " Growl," said Whitlock, in a whisper. 178 THE TWO PARSONS. " Oh, yes," said Bedloe, promptly, " it was Growl." " Well, well, well ; I never heard of him before," said the Parson, amused. " Mumble," whispered Whitlock. " No," said Bedloe, " I made a mistake ; " not Growl, I meant Mainhle^'' "Mumble," said the Parson ; " dear, dear me. "Where did he come from ?" " Kamtchatka," whispered Whitlock. " From Kamtchatka," said Bed. " That will do," said the Parson. " Growl or Mumble, from Kamtchatka, was the very first Virginia historian. Dear, dear ; I have one more new wrinkle. I never did hear of these famous historians in all my reading. Why did you not confess at once that you had no, knowledge on the subject? Whitlock told you to growl, but you did not even know the meaning of growl ; and then he told you to nuimble, and you did not know" that. Growl is to make a low" murmur or a hoarse noise of suppressed anger — to snarl like an angry dog. Do you think that would make a Virginia historian % Mumble is to utter an indistinct sound, with the lips half closed. In other words, to pretend you were saying something when yon were not. A historian ought to write a very clear, dis- tinct account, and have no mumldino- about the matter. And then, when I asked where Mr. Mumble came from, prompted by your knowing friend, you said Kamtchatka. Now, Whitlock, where is Kamtchatka V Whitlock was as much posed as Bedloe. " I do not wish you to go away from this school," said the Parson, " without knowing something about the words you use. Kamtchatka is in the empire of Russia. It is on the northeast of the continent of Asia. It is a penin- sula, with seventeen volcanoes in full blast upon it. The people are of diminutive stature, but stout, with flat PARSON BLAIr's SCHOOL FOR BOYS. 179 features, small ejes, thin lips, lank black hair, and scarcely any beard. They transport produce and other things in sledges, drawn by dogs. They are mostly hunters and fishermen. " Now, you see, it's not likely that these people should become the first historians of Virginia. I wanted you to know who was the first historian, so that you might go to the fountain-head to learn all about the first settlement of the State in which you live — how old the State was, and from what sort of people Virginians as a general thing descended. So now I tell you Capt. John Smith wrote the first book upon the subject. Ask for his history — tliere are some queer things in that book. He was a brave man, and possessed a great deal of ready knowledge, enabling him to l)ecome a noted pioneer in settling a new country and controlling men. Smith came over from England in the fleet of three vessels sent out by the London Company. They landed on James River, at a place they afterwards called Jamestown, both river and town so called in honor of James I, who was then King of England. This was the first English settlement in the United States. This Jamestown was a noted place in former days. It was founded in 1607 ; was burned to the ground by Nathaniel Bacon at the time of Bacon's rebellion, and there are now only two or three old houses, the ruins of an old church and the remains of a fort, and these constitute the sole relics of the ancient town. " Capt. Smith was taken prisoner by Powhatan, the great Indian chief, who was king over the Indians at that time; and when he was about to be put to death, by order of the chief, he was saved by Pocahontas, the daughter of the chief. He wrote a book, which he styled 'The General Historic of Virginia, New England and the Summer Isles,' in 1626. " Now, when I ask you again any questions, I will 180 THE TWO PAKSONS, have bath of you to understand, Whitlock and Bed, that I want rather more intelligence than will suffice to" growl or mumble." When the school was dismissed. Parson Buchanan, as usual, stopped by to see what progress Parson Blair was making in enlightening the youthful intellect, and seeing the boys kicking up their heels and playing all sorts of antics, took note of what they were doing and saying ; and being full of what he saw and heard, said to Parson Blair : " Did you ever hear the rigmarole these boys make use of in their games ? It sounded so queer to me that I asked one of them to wiite it down. I have been studying it since, but cannot make head or tail of it." " What is it ■?" "Why— " ' One's all, two's all, zig, zall, zal, Bob tail vinegar, and tittle tall tal ; Harum scarum, spiriti vorum, Singulum sangulum, buckwheat fritters.' " " Indeed," said Parson Blair, " this distitch has occupied many of my spare moments. It is to be unravelled like ancient hieroglyphics, and will bear much scientific re- search. I like the poetry, the dog Latin and the uncom- mon conclusion. It jumps \vith my humor and curiosity. The boys use these lines when pla^dng, as tliey call it, 'high spy,' that is, 'I spy,' imitating military men in giving their word of coinmand ; for you know when they mean 'right face,' they say, with grave demeanor, 'hight hace,' and 'left face' is 'heft hace,' and so on. The boys assemble, all in the game, in a row. One of them stands and counts, and when he gets to the last they all scamper off and hide in some imagined place of security. The distitch shows the process of counting and PAESON BLAIr's SCHOOL FOR BOYS. 181 developes the meaning thus : ' One's all, two's all, zig zall zaL' That is, one of all, two of all; then he counts with his fingers until he says six of all, and, touching the little girl, he says, Sail. Then he comes to a boy with a bob-tail coat on, who he imagines is looking as sour as verjuice, so he says a bob-tail vinegar, and then a little tall gal. But in his rapid way of speaking, and for the sake of the alliteration, he makes it tittle tall tab Harum scarum, that is, hurry off in every direction belter skelter, pell mell. Spiriti vorum, with the spirit of us or you. Singulum sangulum, each and all, and when you come back you shall eat your buckwheat fritters. ' Quod erat demonstrandu'/n.'' " "A very probable solution," said Parson Buchanan. " You are a trump." "Now," said Brother Blair, "what do you make of this other conundrum: " ' One a me newry Ochra Ann, Mulberry wax and tarry tan ; Giscum, garricum — very good time; Humblum bumblum — twenty-nine.' " This I give you as a study. When you have made it out, let me have the solution. I have worked it out, but I defy you to do it." CHAPTER XIL DEATH OF WILLIAM BLAIR.— SERMON BY PARSON BUCHANAN. LIFE is checkered with pleasant and with mournful scenes. Though it is often said that they are nearly evenly balanced, yet if we will only pause and think for a moment, the memory of joys that are past will generally more than counterbalance the woes. The poet hath truly said that "the memory of these joys is mournful to the soul." It is mournful because we know the scenes will never return, and in many in- stances the actors are gone, and we shall see them no more. But the scenes were pleasant and the actors be- loved, and we remember them with pleasing en:otions. Similar scenes will come in their places, new friends will spring up, and we shall enjoy more happiness than pain. As we grow older we will have to lament " Friendships that now in death are hushed, And fond affection's broken chain." But God has so constituted our natures that, however deep our grief, the hand of time will wipe away our tears. We are led to these remarks by occurrences that are taking place in the hitherto cheerful home of Parson Blair. We have said in a preceding chapter that his little son William had been sick for a long time, growing gradually worse, yet oft times reviving, and with the wonderful recuperative energy of youth, seeming to be almost w^ell, when a sudden change in the weather, or DEATH OF WILLIAM BLAIR. 183 somethin*^ disagreeing with liim, would throw him again to the very brink of the grave. The child was but eight years of age, of uncommon intellect, and of a very cheer- ful disposition. He was afflicted with an exceedingly painful disease, and suffered at intervals excessive agony. This had continued nearly eighteen months. His attenu- ated frame indicated his sufferings, and he had wasted away until he was a mere shadow. His bright eyes sparkled with flashes, which assured you of an active, restless mind and vivid imagination, and he would some- times talk with great animation, and a vigor of thought far beyond his years. On the occasion to which we refer, Parson Buchanan called to see him, and as he was about entering the apart- ment, he found Dr. James D. McCaw just coming out. The Dr. had u sad countenance, and when asked after his patient, said: "Mr. Buchanan, it is a mournful thought; he is a tine boy, but I must tell you his days are numbered. Dr. Foushee has been here with me to-day. We have done the best we could, but he is sinking fast, and oc- casionally his mind is becoming flighty. We are only giving stimulants now to bolster him up a few hours longer. Go in, sir; you will fin J his father and mother in deep distress." The good man gently entered. He shook hands cor- dially with both of the afflicted parents, and saw the big tears standing in their eyes, each attempting to conceal them from the other. He walked up to the bed, and with a cheerful tone and countenance, in which kindness beamed with encouragement and hope, said : " Willie, dear, how do you feel this morning ?" He looked up in the old gentleman's face : " Grandpa, is it you ?" " Yes, dear. I hope Grandpa's little boy feels better to-day." ISl THE TWO PARSONS. " Grandpa, I can't sleep ; the nights are so long and I get so tired. Grandpa, don't you want to go to heaven ? I do. Mamma says there is no night there. I want to go where there is no night." "God is the light of heaven," said the good man; "it is all day there ; but He has placed us here, my boy, and we must be contented to live till He calls us." " Oh ! but, Grandpa, He has called me. I heard some- thing whispering to me," and he lowered his voice to a whisper, " ' Come up here, Willie.' " And then his mother said : " Willie, dear, you must not talk so much, you are too weak ; you know the doctor said you must be quiet." The good man took a seat by the bedside, and Willie's eyes brightened up. " Grandpa, I heard you say once, before God's throne in heaven there was a sea of glass. Is that for God to see through to look at everything down here ? I can hear Him whispering now. Hold your ear here. Grandpa." And he whispered in his ear, " Willie, come up and see the glass." Then he stopped and gasped for breath. The good man felt for his pulse, but it was im perceptible. Parson Blair came to his side and looked anxiously at him. He raised his eyes to heaven and went to his seat. The mother came and gave him a stimulant. He revived and the pulse fluttered, but he remained motionless. She looked at him a Ions; time, then sat down on the foot of the bed and sobbed aloud. His father placed his handkerchief over bis eyes, and his whole frame shook. Parson Buchanan still kept his hand on the pulse. There was deep silence. The spirit seemed to plume its wings for flight, and then it paused. "Grandpa," (in a fainter tone), "did yoa see them? Did you. Grandpa ?" " Wiio, dear ?" said the good man. DEATH OF WILLIAM BLAIR. 185 " Wings ! Faces of light ! eyes of stars ! They are whispering, 'Little lamb, come with us.' Grandpa, you carry me in your arms. I would love to go with you." The old gentleman stooped down and kissed his lips. Oh, how cold ! The poor little fellow exerted all his remaining strength, and put his arms around the good man's neck, and his pure soul winged its way to heaven. The devout Christian looked above: "O God, receive this cherub to Thyself." There was a wail from the fond mother's heart. There was a convulsive shudder in the father's frame. That prayer told him too well his Willie was gone. Sister Adams softly came in^w^ent to the bed, gently closed his eyes, and laid his little hands across his breast- She touched her mourning sister's hand; they fell into each other's arms and passed into the next room. Parson Buchanan took the hand of the bereaved father and pressed it in deepest sympathy. "It is natural, brother, that we should mourn the loss of so sweet a boy. But you have been taught to know that such spirits 'are as the angels of God.' The sweet boy's wish is gratified. 'I want to go,' he said, 'where there is no night;' and God hath heard the voice of the lad. 'When Reuben returned to the pit to look for Joseph, and found him not, he rent his clothes, and said, The child is not; and I, whither shall I go V Ah ! it was a natural exclamation. Jacob, too, 'rent his clothes, and put sackcloth upon his loins, and mourned for his son many days, and refused to be comforted, saying, I will go down into the grave unto my son mourning.' But it shows how little we know of God's ways. Joseph lived to save his father and his brethren from starvation, and became great in the sight of God and man. I can say, as Jesus did to the noble- man, with perfect assurance, ' Thy son liveth.' We will 12 186 THE TWO PARSONS. mourn nevertheless, and yet it would be better to say with David, ' He is dead, wherefore should I fast ? Can I bring him back again ? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.' " There was something so sweet and mournful in the tones of the voice, so comforting in the reminiscences the good brother called up, that it brought consolation to the bereaved heart. Parson Blair looked up and said: "Brother Buchanan, such sympathy has been ever dear to me in all the trials of life. I can say with a fervent spirit, God's will be done. ' The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away : blessed be the name of the Lord.' " In the course of the evening our old friend Robert Poore, the undertaker, passed through the apartments to the bed on which our little Willie lay neatly shrouded, looking as calm as when alive in sweet repose. His office was soon performed. The next morning a plain walnut coffin coniined the mortal remains of the beloved boy, and on it the little children of the neighborhood placed a sweet wreath of evergreens and white roses, in token of his purity and immortality. He was buried in the old grave-yard on Church Hill, Parson Buchanan officiating at the service, and making a most feeling and pathetic address. There his mortal body reposes until " we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump." The- immortal spirit has gone " where infinite day excludes the night, and pleasm^es banish pain." The following letter of sympathy was received from his friend, William Munford: "To THE Rev. J. D. Blair: " My Dear Friend : I sympathize mth you for the loss of your dear boy with lieartfelt emotion. I would give you all the consolation in my power, but what can I say DEATH OF WILLIAM BLAIR. 187 to a minister of the Gospel, wlio knows that in holy wait he has the example of the good and the wise who were afflicted by similar losses. You, wiio have given consola- tion to so many under deepest afflictions, will know whence to derive.comfort under your bereavement. Grieve you will — you must ; nature will require it ; but I know you will be able to say : ' Oh ! pardon my weakness when nature's full sway To sadness my soul would resign ! Instruct me, whatever Thy will, to obey. And never at woes to repine.' Your affliction must be softened by the reflection that Christ has said, 'Suifer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is tlic kingdom of heaven.' " Your sincere friend, "W. M." Time sped onward. Friends came with kind sympathy, the business cares of life, the necessity of rousing himself from his sorrow to attend to his ministerial duties, the soothing influence of holy writ, the prayerful utterances of the softened heart — all liad their influence in restoring the mind to its wonted peace, and his cheerful nature made him mingle once more with his friends. In the meantime, he composed the following sweet and touching elegy on the death of his son : " By the muse I have often been led Into scenes that were pleasing and gay; And by turns I have sung of the dead. While with tears I bedewed the sad lay. 188 THE TWO PARSONS. " I have comforted parents that wept For dear children consigned to the tomb ; For I told them the grave, where they slept, Was a refuge from evils to come. " Thus I soothed their sorrows to rest, Distress'd their affliction to see; ISTow of you, my dear friends, I request To do the same office for me. " Do you ask me my sorrows to state ? Your sympathy why I implore ? Ah, me ! it is sad to relate — My Willie — my Willie's no more. " He has bid me a final adieu ; Yet this is not all that I bear, For the tears of a fond mother, too, Increase the affliction thev share. " To give consolation I try. And wipe off the tears as they flow ; But alas ! a poor comforter I, Sore wounded myself by the blow. •" Be it yours, then, her grief to restrain ; Go tell her to comfort her heart; We shall see our dear William again, Altho' for the present we part. *'Thus accost her with tidings of joy; Go, tell her her William 's at rest. Ah, methinks I can see the dear boy Keclining on Abraham's breast. DEATH OF WILLIAM BLAIR. ISO- " In the grave for a while he must lie, But in peace and in silence profound, That when Jesus shall call from the sky^ He may instantly wake at the sound. " With his cousins departed before, Again he shall live ere it's long, And in heaven, where death is no morCy Together praise God in their song. " Meanwhile, then, dear William, adieu, Thy father now bids thee farewell ; But thy grave he will often review. And on thy dear memory dwell. " To my heart he was ever most dear, Aifectionate always and mild ; Of affliction he had a great share. Which still more endeared the sweet child. " He was brought to my mind by a lamb I early this morning espied, As the innocent stood by its dam, And attempted to feed by her side. " By a plaint, too, I heard from the groves, A likeness I found for ray son ; Yes, his heart was as mild as the dove's His brown hair as soft as its down V, _ " Last night, and methinks it is strange That the night such illusions should bring, He came 'a good morn' to exchange, And I took him away to the spring. 190 THE TWO PARSONS. " 'Tis thither we used to repair, When the night to the morning gave place ; There we sauntered awhile in the air, Then back to the house in a race. " I shall never forget while I live His childlike manoeuvres and art — How the dear little fellow would strive For more than his odds in the start. " In the morning I went to the spout, Though I knew that it was but a dream. Yet for William aloud I called out. Then mingled my tears with the stream. " Remembrance of joys that are gone ! Oh, how thou afflictest my heart ! Could not death, when he pierced my dear son, Obliterate thee with his dart ? ^' But to murmurs I will not give way, Nor repine at the will of the Lord ; He gave, and has taken away, And His name be for ever adored." SEKMON BY PARSON BUCHANAN. 191 SERMON BY PARSON BUCHANAN. THE HOUSE OF MOURNING TO BE PREFEREED TO THE HOUSE OF FEASTING. '• It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting." — Eccles. vii. 2. Many of the maxims contained in this book will appear strange sayings to the men of the world. But when thej reflect on the character of him who delivers them, they cannot but admit that his tenets deserve a serious and attentive examination. For they are not the doctrines of a pedant, who, from an obscure retirement, declaims against pleasures he never knew. They are not the in- vectives of a disappointed man, who takes revenge upon the world by satirizing those enjoyments which he sought in vain to obtain. They are the conclusions of a great and prosperous prince, who had once given full scope to his desires, who was thoroughly acquainted with life in its most flattering scenes, and who now, reviewing all that he had enjoyed, delivers to us the result of long ex- perience and tried wisdom. None of liis principles seem, at first view, more dubious and exceptionable than those which the text presents. To assert that sorrow is prefer- able to mirth, and the house of mourning to the house of feasting ; to advise men to choose mortification and sad- ness when it is in their power to indulge in joy, may ap- pear* harsh and unreasonable doctrines. They may, per- haps, be accounted enemies to the innocent enjoyment of life who give countenance to so severe a system, and thereby increase the gloom which already sits suflicieutly heavy on the condition of man. But let this censure be 192 THE TWO PARSONS. suspended until we examine with care into the spirit and meaning of the sentiments here delivered. It is evident that the wise man does not prefer sorrow, upon its own account, to mirth, or represent sadness as a state more eligible than joy. He considers it in the light of discipline only. He views it with reference to an end. He compares it with certain improvements which he supposes it to produce when the heart is made better by the sadness of the countenance, and the living are led to lay to heart what is the end of all men. Now, if great and lasting benefits are found to result from occasional sad- ness, these, sure, may be capable of giving it the prefer- ence to some fleeting sensations of joy. The means which he recommends in order to our obtainina; those benefits are to be explained according to the principles of sound reason, and to be understood with those limitations which the eastern style in delivering moral precepts frequently requires. He bids us go to the house of mourning, but he does not command us to dwell there. When he pre- fers sorrow to laughter, he is not to be understood as prohibitmg all mirth, as requiring us to wear a perpetual cloud on our brow, and to sequestrate ourselves from every cheerful entertainment of social life, Such an in- terpretation would be inconsistent with many other ex- hortations in his own writings, which recommend tem- perate and innocent joy. It would not suit with the proper discharge of the duties which belong to us as members of society, and would be most opposite to the goodness and benignity of our Creator. The true scope of his doctrine in this passage is, that there is a certain temper and state of heart which is of far greater conse- quence to real happiness than the habitual indulgence of giddy and thoughtless mirth ; that for the attainment . and cultivation of this temper, frequent returns of grave reflection are necessary ; that, upon this account, it is SERMON BY PARSON BUCHANAN, 193 profitable to give admission to those views of human dis- tress which tend to awaken such reflection in the mind ; and that thus, from the vicissitudes of sorrow, which we either experience in our own lot, or sympathize with in the lot of others, much wisdom and improvement may be derived. Among the variety of dispositions which are to be found in the world, some, indeed, require less of this dis- cipline than others. There are persons whose tender and delicate sensibility, either derived from nature or brought on by repeated attlictions, renders them too deeply sus- ceptible of every mournful impression ; whose spirits stand more in need of being supported and cheered than of being saddened by the dark views of human life. In such cases, we are commanded to lift up the hands which hano; down, and to confirm the feeble knees. But this is far from being the common disposition of men. Their minds are in general inclined to levity, much more than to thoughtful melancholy, and their hearts more apt to be contracted and hardened than to relent with too much facility. I shall therefore endeavor to show them what bad inclinations their compliance with Solomon's advice would correct ; what good dispositions, with respect to God, their neighbors, and themselves, it w^ould improve ; and how, upon the whole, his doctrine is verified, that by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better. I begin by observing, that the temper recommended in the text suits the present constitution of things in this world. Had man been destined for a course of undis- turbed enjoyment, perpetual gaiety would then have cor- responded to his state, and pensive thought have been an' unnatural intrusion. But in a state where all is chequered and mixed, wdiere there is no prosperity without a reverse, and no joy w^ithout its attending griefs, where from the 194 THE TWO PARSONS. house of feasting all must, at one time or other, pass into the house of mourning, it were equally unnatural if no admission were given to grave reflection. The mind of man must be attempered to his condition. Providence, whose wisdom is conspicuous in all its works, has adjusted with exact proportion the inward powers to the outward state of every rational being. It has for this purpose implanted in us the serious and sympathetic feelings, that they might correspond with the vicissitudes of sorrow in our lot. He who endeavors to repel their influence, or to stifle them in unseasonable mirth, acts a violent and unnatural part, contradicts the intentions of his Maker, and counteracts the original impulses of his own heart. It is proper also to observe, that as the sadness of the ■countenance has in our present . situation a proper and natural place, so it is requisite to the true enjoyment of pleasure. Worldly and sensual men often remark not, till it is too late, that, by the studied efforts of constant repetition, all their pleasures fail. They draw them off so close to the dregs that they become insipid and nauseous. Hence, even in laughter, their heart is sorrow- ful, and the end of their mirth is heaviness. It is only the interposal of serious and thoughtful hours that can give any lively sensation to the returns of joy; tliat is, wdien the mind retreats into itself, and is open to the sentiments of religion and humanity. Such serious hours give to the temperate enjoyments of the pious and humane a refined and delicate relish to which the hardened and insensible are entire strangers. For it will be found, that in proportion as the tender affections of the soul are kept awake, how much soever they may sometime distress the heart, they preserve'it open likewise to the most agree- able sensations. He who never knew the sorrows of friendship never also knew its joys. He whose heart cannot relent in the house of mourning, will, in the most SEKMON BY PARSON BUCHANAN. 195 social hour of the house of feasting, partake of no more than the lowest part of animal pleasure. Having premised these observations, I proceed to point out the direct eifects of a proper attention to the distresses of life upon our moral and religious character. In the first place, the house of mourning is calculated to give a proper check to our natural thoughtlessness and levity. The indolence of mankind, and their love of pleasure, spread through all characters some degree of aversion to what is grave and serious. They grasp at any object, either of business or amusement, which makes the present moment pass smoothly away, which carries their thoughts abroad, and saves them from the trouble of re- flecting on themselves. If some measures ought to be taken for rescuing the mind from this disgraceful levity, if some principles must be acquired which may give more dignity and steadiness to conduct, where, I pray you, are these to be looked for? Not, surely, in the house of feasting, where every object flatters the senses and strengthens the seductions to which we are already prone, where the spirit of dissipation circulates from heart to heart, and the children of folly mutually admire and are admired. It is in the sober and serious house of mourn- ing that the tide of vanity is made to turn, and a new direction given to the current of thought. When some affecting incident presents a strong discovery of the de- 'ceitfulness of all worldly joy, and rouses our sensibility to human woe; when we behold those with whom we had lately mingled in the house of feasting sunk by some of the sudden vicissitudes of life into the vale of misery ; or when, in sad silence, we stand by the friend whom we had loved as our own soul, stretched on the bed of death ; then is the season when the world begins to appear in a new light; when the heart opens to virtuous sentiments, and is led into that train of reflection which ought to 196 THE TWO PARSONS. direct life. He wlio before knew not what it was to commune w^ith his heart on any serious subject, now puts the question to himself, for what purpose he was sent forth into this mortal, transitory state, what his fate is likely to be when it concludes, and what judgment he ought to form of those pleasures which amuse for a little, but which he now sees cannot save the heart from anguish in the evil day. Touched by the hand of thoughtful melancholy, that airy edifice of bliss Avhich fancy had raised up for him vanishes away. He beholds in the place of it the lonely and barren desert, in which, sur- rounded with many a disagreeable object, he is left musing upon himself. The time which he has misspent, and the faculties which he has misemployed, his foolish levity and his criminal pursuits, all rise in painful pros- pect before him. That unknown state of existence into whicli race after race of the children of men pass, strikes his mind with solemn awe. Is there no course by which he can retrieve his past errors ? Is there no superior power to which he can look up for aid ? Is there no plan of conduct which, if it exempt him not from sorrow, can at least procure liim consolation amidst tlie distress- ful exigencies of life ? Such meditations as these, sug- gested by the house of mourning, frequently produce a change on the whole character. They revive those sparks of goodness which were nigh being quite extinguished in the dissipated mind, and give rise to principles of conduct more rational in themselves and more suitable to the human state. In the second place, impressions of this nature not only produce moral seriousness, but awaken sentiments of piety and brino- men into the sanctuary of religion. One might, indeed, imagine that the blessings of a prosperous condition would prove the most natural incitements to devotion, and that when men were happy in themselves,, SERMON BY PARSON BUCHANAN. 197 and saw nothing but happiness around them, they could not fail gratefully to acknowledge that God who giveth them all things richly to enjoy. Yet such is their cor- ruption that they are never more ready to forget their Benefactor than when loaded with His benefits. The Giver is concealed from their careless and inattentive view by the cloud of His own gifts. WJien their life continues to flow in one smooth current, unruffled by any griefs; when they neither receive in tlieir own circum- stances, nor allow themselves to receive from the circum- stances of others, any admonitions of human instability, they not only become regardless of Providence, but are in hazard of contemning it. Glorying in their strength, and lifted up by the pride of life into supposed inde- pendence, that impious sentiment, if not uttered by the mouth, yet too often lurks in the hearts of many during their flourishing periods, " What is the Almighty that we should serve Him, and what profit should we have if we pray unto Him ?" If such be the tendency of the house of feasting, how necessary is it that, by some change in their situation, men should be obliged to enter into the house of moui'ning, in order to recover a proper sense of their dependent state ? It is there, when forsaken by the gaieties of the world and left alone with God, that we are made to perceive how awful His government is, how easily human great- ness bends before Him, and how quickly all our designs and measures at His interposal vanish into nothing. There, when the countenance is sad and the affections are softened by grief, when we sit apart, involved in serious thought, looking down as from some eminence on those dark clouds that hang over the life of man, the arrogance of prosperity is humbled, and the heart melts under the impressions of religion. Formerly we were taught, but now we see, we feel, how much we stand in need of an 198 THE TWO PARSONS. I Almighty protector amidst the changes of this vain world. Our soul cleaves to Him who despises not, nor abhors the affliction of the afflicted. Prayer flows forth of its own accord from the relenting heart, that He may be our God, and the God of our friends in distress; that He may never forsake us while we are sojourning in this land of pilgrimage, ma}^ strengthen us under its calamities, and bring us hereafter to those habitations of rest where we and they whom we love Aiay be delivered from the trials which all now are doomed to endure. The discovei'ies of His mercy which He has made in the gospel of Christ are viewed with joy, as so many rays of light sent down from above, to dispel, in some degree, the surrounding- gloom. A mediator and intercessor with the Sovereign of the universe appear comfortable names, and the resur- rection of the just becomes the powerful cordial of grief. In such moments as these, which we may justly call happy moments, the soul participates of all the pleasures of devotion. It feels the power of religion to support and relieve. It is softened without being broken. It is full, and it pours itself forth ; pours itself forth, if we may be allowed to use the expression, into the bosom of its merciful Creator. Further, such serious sentiments produce the happiest effect upon our disposition towards our fellow creatures. It is a common and just observation, that they who have lived always in affluence and ease, strangers to the miseries of life, are liable to contract hardness of heart with re- spect to all the concerns of others. Wrapped up in them- selves and their own pleasures, they behold with indiffer- ence the most affecting scenes of distress. Habituated to indulge all their desires without control, they become impatient of the least provocation or offence, and are ready to trample on their inferiors, as if they were creatures of a different species from themselves. Is this SERMON BY PARSON BUCHANAN. IDO" an amiable temper, or such as becomes a man ? When appearing in others, do we not view it with much dis- pleasure ? When imputed to ourselves, can we avoid accounting it a severe reproach ? By the experience of distress this arrogant insensibility of temper is most effectually corrected, as the remembrance of our own sufferings naturall}^ prompts us to feel for others when they suffer. But if Providence has been so kind as not to subject us to much of this discipline in our own lot, let us draw improvement from the harder lot of others. Let us sometimes step aside from the smooth and flowery paths in which we are permitted to walk, in order to view the toilsome march of others through the thorny desert. By voluntary going into the house of mourning, by yield- ing to the sentiments it excites, and mingling our tears with those of the afflicted, we shall acquire that humane sensibility which is one of the highest ornaments of the nature of man. Perceiving how much the common dis- tresses of life place us all on a level, and render the high and the low, the rich and the poor, companions in mis- fortune and mortality, we shall learn to set no man at nought, and least of any our afflicted brother. Prejudices will be extinguished and benevolence opened and enlarged, when, looking around on the multitude of men, we consider them as a band of fellow-travellers in the valley of woe, where it ought to be the office of every one to alleviate as much as possible the common burden. While the vain and the licentious are revelling in the midst of extravagance and riot, how little do they think of those scenes of sore distress which are going on at that moment throughout the world — multitudes strno-o-lino; for a poor subsistence to support the wife and children whom they love, and who look up to them with eager eyes for that bread which they can hardly procure; multi- tudes groaning under sickness in desolate cottages, un_ 200 THE TWO PARSONS. tended and unmourned : many, apparently in a better situ- ation of life, pining away in secret with concealed griefs ; families weeping over the beloved friends whom they have lost, or, in all the bitterness of anguish, bidding those who are just expiring the last adieu ! May we not appeal to the heart of every good man, nay, almost to the heart of every man who has not divested himself of his natural feelings, whether the admission of such views of human life might not, sometimes at least, furnish a more worthy employment to the mind than that mirth of fools which Solomon compares to the crackling of thorns under a pot, the transient bursts of unmeaning joy ? Those sallies of jollity in the house of feasting are often forced from a troubled mind. "Whereas compas- sionate affections, even at the time when they draw tears from our eyes for human misery, convey satisfaction to the heart. The gracious appointment of heaven has ordained that sympathetic pain should always be accom- panied with a certain degree of pleasure, on purpose that we miglit be more interested in the case of the distressed, and that by this mysterious bond man might be linked closer to man. Again, by accustoming ourselves to such serious views of life, our excessive fondness for life itself will be moderated, and our minds gradually formed to wish and to long for a better world. If we know tliat our continuance here is to be short, and that we are in- tended by our Maker for a more lasting state, and for employments of a nature altogether different from those which now occupy the busy or amuse the vain, we must surely be convinced that it is of the highest consequence to prepare ourselves for so important a change. This view of our duty is frequently held up to us in the sacred writings, and hence religion becomes, though not a morose, yet a grave and solemn principle, calling off the attention of men from light pursuits to those which are of eternal . SERMON BY PARSON BUCHANAN. 20 L moment. What is a man profited if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? — if he shall lead a life of thoughtless mirth on earth, and exclude himself from eternal felicity in heaven. Worldly affection and sensual pleasure alienate the soul from God and heaven, and de- ject it with slavish and unmanly fears of death. Whereas, by the discipline of religious seriousness, it is gradually loosened from the fetters of sense. Assisted to discover the vanity of this world, it rises above it, and in the hour of sober thought cultivates connection with those divine and immortal objects among which it is designed to dwell. To conclude. Wouldst thou acquire the habit of recol- lection and fix the principles of thy conduct ? Wouldst thou be led up to thy Creator and liedeemer, and be formed to sentiments of purity and devotion ? Wouldst thou be acquainted with those mild and tender affec- tions which delight the compassionate and the humane ? Wouldst thoR have the power of sensual appetites tamed and corrected, and thy soul raised above the ignoble love of life and fear of death ? Go, my brother, go — not to scenes of pleasure and riot, not to the house of feasting and mirth, but to the silent house of mourning, and adventure to dwell for a while among objects that will soften thy heart. Contemplate the lifeless remains of what once was fair and flourishing; bring home to thyself the vicissitudes of life : recall the remembrance of the friend, the parent, or the child whom thou tenderly lovedst ; look back on the days of former years, and think on the com- panions of thy youth who now sleep in the dust; let the vanity, the mutability, and the sorrows of the human estate rise in full prospect before thee ; and though thy counte- nance may be made sad, thy heart shall be made better. 13 CHAPTEE XIII. ELECTION FOR MEMBER OF CONGRESS. ONE of the most beautiful charaeteristics of the ministers of the olden time in Virginia was their entire freedom from the spirit of the partisan in the excit- ing arena of politics. We will say to their credit, that it rarely occurs in the South that ministers, even of the present day, indulge themselves in party contests or con- taminate their religion with the asperities and bitterness of political strife. Both then and now they would deem it sacrilegious to introduce party allusions, party prefer- ences, principles, prejudices or passions into their sermons; and they never indulge themselves in speaking of the administration of the government or its officials in their religious discourses. It is wise and proper that this should be so, for every congregation in a republic is com- posed of men of all parties. If the minister were to take sides with one party, he would certainly offend and excite the other. Heated arguments and bitter denunciations would inevitably be the result ; coldness would be en- gendered, the pastor and his flock sundered, and a bar to all social and free intercourse be set up, that could not be surmounted by invocations to forbearance and Chris- tian charity. They inculcated in the olden time in their discourses principles of true religion — good will to all, harmony among brothers, concord and goodfellowship, and frowned upon everything that could alienate them from holy matters of spiritual concern. They taught obedience to ELECTION FOR MEMBER OF CONGRESS. 203 the laws, linman and divine. They discussed not the question, " Is it lawful to give tribute unto Caesar ?" nor whether the laws promulgated by Caesar were proper or not; but like the great Master, they proclaimed from their pulpits, "Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's." They did not profess to be more than men, and there- fore, in their intercourse with their fellow men, they heard, and, as was natural, formed their opinions of public acts and of public men; but to make either the subject of comment from the pulpit would have been deemed, both by themselves and their congregations, in- delicate, improper and entirely out of place. When any- thing in the management of public affairs displeased them, they discussed it in private, without reference to it in the pulpit. To show how our Parsons thought and acted on such occasions, we would mention that a correspondence in Latin passed between them on this subject. ^ In those days, as we have said, party spirit was at its | height, and there was a rancour and bitterness between the Republicans (as the Democrats were then called) and the Federalists which could not be surpassed. Mr. Jefferson was the exponent of Republican views, Mr. John Adams of the Federal, and each was maligned and abused by the followers of the other with an antipathy that almost prevented intercourse between political oppo- nents, even in private. It pervaded all classes, and it is not wonderful, therefore, that ministers, under such cir- cumstances, sometimes among friends made allusions to ^ the subject. ^ We have seen in these pages that in the private inter- course of our good brothers, the subject, when alluded to, was treated as a jest, and always in the best possible 204 THE TWO PARSONS. humor. The embargo and non-intercourse measures of Mr. Jefferson's administration were peculiarly hateful to the Federal party ; they looked upon them as the im- perious decrees of a tyrant, and there was nothing that could be said too violent or too acrimonious against the head of the administration. Our friend Parson Buchanan, however, set an example worthy of imitation. He said he made it an invariable rule never to introduce the subject of politics among hi& parishioners, and never to be drawn into discussion by them. He preferred to be a listener ; and on occasions, when contentions arose, he endeavored, as far as practi- cable, to impose upon himself the habit of silence, or to allay the irritation between the disputants. When ap- pealed to by either or both, he would answer, it was not the part of a Christian minister to take sides in political controversies. "The truth is," he would say, "you can never agree as to your facts. What one asserts the other positively denies ; and you only believe such facts as suit your own views. A calm observer, who is not carried away by passion, may extract good from both sides, and frequently sees a great deal of bad to which both are utterly blind. As a general rule, the bad men constitute the majority, and of course the good men are in the minority. At any rate, the minority are those who rail at the majority; l^ut when the minority happens to be- come the majority, then the matter is not mended, for they in turn become the party denounced. For my own part, I can understand and believe that a political oppo- nent may be actuated by the most honest and patriotic motives. The matters upon which politicians differ are often of the most difficult and delicate nature, upon which men may justly differ; and because my friend happens to be opposed to me he does not necessarily become an enemy of his country. It is better to believe that both ELECTION FOR MEMBER OF CONGRESS. 205 of US are aiming to accomplish what is for the best in- terests of the country." With these general views he would content himself. Parson Blair, being more mer- curial, would sometimes indulge in a little bitterness and severity, but then immediately turn it off with some kind or humorous remark, as if he regretted such things should have escaped his lips. In consequence of the war between Napoleon and Great Britain, the commerce of the United States suffered greatly, and was virtually suspended, both with France and England, as well as with the rest of Europe. The celebrated orders of council of Great Britain, declaring the ports of Europe under the control of France in a state of blockade, thus authorizing the capture of Ameri- can vessels bound to those ports, caused the counteracting policy of Napoleon, and induced him to issue his no less celebrated Berlin decrees, by which he not only declared Great Britain to be in a state of blockade, and all inter- course suspended, but forbade the introduction of any English goods into the Continent of Europe. Upon which England retaliated by declaring the wliole coast of Europe in a state of blockade, and prohibited neutrals altogether from trading with the Continent. Napoleon tlien issued his Milan decree, which confiscated not only the vessels of neutrals which should touch at an English port, but such as should submit to be searched. This condition of things proved most disastrous to American commerce. Upon this Congress declared an embargo or prohibition to American ships to leave their ports. But not hav- ing a navy sufficient to enforce the embargo, they had re- course to the expedient of interdicting trade and inter- course with both France and England. These laws having been approved by Mr. Jefferson during his administration, all the odium of these measures 206 THE TWO PARSONS. attached to him and the Kepublican party, of which he was the exponent. This was the origin of the embargo and non-intercourse laws. We have given this brief review to explain the excitement and bitter feeling that ' existed at the time of which we are writing. The Federalists denounced the measures as unmitigated tyranny. The Kepublicans thought the time had not yet arrived for war, but began to place the country in condition to meet it if it must come. Mr. Rutherfoord, therefore, though knowing Mr. Buchanan's disinclination to be drawn into political mat- ters, ventured, as a, feu d^esprii, to write him an anonymous letter, to let off a little of his vwn steam, — a letter couched in Latin, and purporting to be written by Sallust. It was sent by Parson Blair's old servant Faris, which caused Parson Buchanan to suppose it was sent by Parson Blair, or at any rate with his knowledge and consent. The answer, marked as it was with good sense, great liberality and much latent humor, shows that he thought there was too much bitterness and acerbity in the politics of the day. He said it is certain that an embargo ought to be imposed on the pens of those who persecute the best men, and who, by stimulating a discussion of such matters between a pastor and his flock, would thereby establish a non-intercourse between them, and interrupt the harmony and brotherly love that ought to prevail. He tells them emphatically to attend to their own busi- ness, and permit him to manage his without mingling in such troublous waters. We have referred to these letters to show this displeasure and dissatisfaction, particularly as they were written by warm personal friends. It checked the effort to draw liim into the maelstrom, and left him free to attend to the more important work of good-will and charity to all. We commend his course as both prudent and wise. ELECTION FOR MEMBER OF CONGRESS. 207 On the perusal of this letter, Parson Blair sent to Par- son Buchanan a poetical answer in Latin. Parson Blair tells him his letter is most excellent and highly approved. He tells him he is mistaken in supposing that he either instigated the writer, or was aider or abetter in sending it; and passes a high eulogium upon Parson Buchanan for his Christianity, his learning and the fascination of his writings ; for his genius and virtue ; and concludes by saying that, for all these reasons, he is happy to be con- sidered as his friend. It is true, he says he grieves in silence over the administration of public aifairs, and there is no doubt that he thought it a mal-administration. Yet he concurs that it is better for pastors not to mingle in these strifes. It is better to set an example of quiet repose. Some of the actors in the s(;enes of the present day, and some of the shining lights wlio lead them, might find many things worthy of study and application in the quiet,, calm, serene characters of our venerable pastors, and might imitate them with advantage to themselves, their flocks, and the country at large. The views of both of our pastors on these subjects were so different from those entertained and acted upon by some other divines of the days of which we are writing, that they are worthy of notice. They thought it their duty to preach politics in and out of the pulpit, and de- nounced the administration and their opponents of the Kepublican, then the Democratic party, in the most viru- lent manner. A great many sermons were preached against Mr. Jefferson, and disseminated broadcast over the land. Our good parsons, on the contrary, thought that, if any embargo should be imposed, it ought to be on the pens of those who persecuted the best men with slanders. Notwithstanding these opinions the excitement was so great at the time it was almost impossible to avoid being drawn into the whirlpool. A most animated con- 208 THE TWO PAES0N8. test took place between the two parties at the election of a member of Congress from the Kichmond district. The candidates were John Marshall, who had been minister to France and secretary of state nnder Mr. Adams, and John Clopton, an eminent member of the bar; each the exponent of the principles of his party. Their success or defeat involved what each party believed the wellbeing and future prosperity of the country. It was believed the contest would l)e very close. The parties were drilled to move together in a body ; and the leaders and their business committees were never surpassed in activity and systematic arrangement for bringing out every voter. Sick men were taken in their beds to the polls ; the halt, the lame and the blind, were hunted up, and every mode of conveyance was mustered into service. The election had progressed until a short time after dinner, when the vote exhibited a tie. The committees were continually bringing in their men; and as one man would vote for Marshall, another on the opposite side would immediately give a plumper for Clopton. Liquor in abundance was on the court green for the friends of either party. A ban-el of whiskey for all, with the head knocked in, and the majority took it straight. Indepen- dent of the political excitement, the liquor added fuel to the flame. Fights became common, and every now and then there would be a knock-down and drag-out affray, to quell which required all the power of the county justices. In those days there were no precinct elections. All the voters of a county assembled at the court house, and the crowd was frequently excessive. On this occasion it was almost impossible to obtain ingress or egress to and from the polls. In truth, none could enter but a voter, and he only with the greatest difficulty. The candidates, as was then the custom, were seated on the justice's ELECTION FOR MEMBEK OF CONGRESS. 209 bench, and it was usual, when a vote was cast, for the candidate in question to return thanks.-^ Sometimes, "I thank you, sir." Sometimes, " May you live a thousand years," etc. There were several noisy, impudent fellows, who made comments on the voters as they came up — sometimes amusing, sometimes insulting ; and then the partisans of each would make the welkin ring with their exhilarating huzzas and animated retorts. As the scene waxed hot and furious, the committees examined their list to ascertain who had not voted. It was soon found that Parsons Blair and Buchanan were among the de- linquents. Some of the most influential and leading men immediately took carriages and hurried to bring them to the polls. It so happened they were together at Parson Blair's. Several gentlemen — their intimate and personal friends — had called at different times during the day, requesting them to vote, but ineffectually, each insisting that it was better for ministers of the gospel not to in- terfere in such matters. But at last, when the leading men of the Federal connnittee came and urged them as a duty which they owed their country to vote ; that the salvation of the party depended upon it, and the great in- terests of the country demanded it ; after first a peremp- tory refusal on the part of Parson Buchanan, and then, upon continued pressure by the committee, a partial yielding on the part of Parson Blair, upon condition that Parson Buchanan would go, both assented, and were es- corted to the carriages, and finally managed to be elbowed and squeezed up to the polls. Mr. Marshall had a few minutes before been two votes ahead, then amid the fiercest excitement, Clopton had made up the gap, and was one ahead of him. There were shoutings and hurrahs perfectly deafening. Men were shaking fists at each other, rolling up their sleeves, cursing and swearing, with angry and furious 210 • THE TWO PAKSONS. denunciations. Some became wild with aoitation. Then came Mr. Thomas Rutherfoord and voted for Marshall, and there was again a tie. One fellow growled out an imprecation, and another replied, "You, sir, ought to have your mouth smashed for your impudence." The crowd rolled to and fro like a suro-inp" wave. Parson Blair came forward. A swaggering fellow just above him said, "Here comes two preachers, dead shot for Marshall." Both candidates knew them intimately, and rose from their seats, and the shout was terrific. "Mr. Blair," said the sheriff, "who do you vote for ?" "John Marshall," said he. Mr. Marshall replied, "your vote is appreciated, Mr. Blair." Another fellow cried out, " bring out the Darby town boys. The Darbys have another shot in the locker. 1 see you, old Thorn, you are the devil to plump the Parson." And old Thom came pushing and elbowing with a howl ; l)ut Parson Buchanan was at the sheriff's elbow. The whole Federal party, and the Democrats too, thought this vote was certain, beyond the possibility of a doubt, for Marshall. " Who do you vote for, Mr. Buchanan?" "For John Clopton," said the good man. Mr. Clopton said, "Mr. Buchanan, I shall treasure that vote in my memory. It will be regarded as a feather in my cap for ever." The shouts were astound- ing. Hurrah for Marshall ! Hurrah for Clopton ! The astonishment expressed in Mr. Marshall's face, in Parson Blair's countenance, by the friends of Mr. Buchanan gen- erally, can only be imagined. Then old Thom Enroughty (the whole family of Enroughtys were universally called Darbys) shouted out, "I'll go with that Parson, Clopton! I was going to swear, but I won't, because I respect that old chap. Thank you, old fellow. Hm-rah for Clopton !" Another voter cried out, " One a my neio.'''' And the vote was re- ELECTION FOR MEMBER OF CONGRESS. 211 corded. "Well done, Darby," said Clopton. "Any more of the Darby boys ? Go it, boys !'' said Darby. There was a pressure from both sides. When our friends entered the carriage on their return home, Parson Bucha- nan said, " Brother Blair, we might as well have staid at home. When I was forced against my will to go, I sim- ply determined to balance your vote, and now we shall hear no complaints of the clergy interfering in elections." ^}f' When the returns came in from the district it was found that Clopton was elected. CHAPTER XIV. DUEL BETWEEN PAESON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM. STRANGE things happen m this world, which may astonish at the moment, but we do not pause to con- sider them. When told to others, they are so strange that they are looked upon as exaggerations or falsehoods, not worthy of a passing comment. "We were riding out on a certain occasion with tw^o friends, one of whom was exceedingly absent-minded. In a short time this one, for- getting our presence, spurred up his horse and cantered off, humming to himself ; then musing awhile, he remembered our existence, deliberately rode back, and checking his horse, remarked to our companion : " William, man is a strange animal, I say ; I say, William, man is a s-t-r-a-n-g-e animal," and immediately rode off rapidly again. Now, if anybody doubts the proposition after this enunciation, it occurs to us that he does not know the meaning of strange. We are led into this strain of thought by reading a letter from Parson Blair to the celebrated William Wirt, in which he says : " It is true indeed that Parson Buch- anan was once challenged by Col. William Tateham. But this is a singular instance, and it happened many years ago. This Tateham told me a few days ago that he was justly entitled to three peerages in England, and moreover, when he left there he had a whole parish in his gift. What he meant by a whole parish in his gift, I did not fully comprehend ; but as to the peerages, I concluded that a better title kept him out of them. It DUEL PARSON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM. 213 is no wonder that this man challenged a parson to fight him a duel." To show Parson Blair's appreciation of the practice of duelling, we shall quote another passage from this letter. " I find by the papers, my dear sir, that you were very near entering the lists yourself ,, with a Mr. Pinckney, of Baltimore. I confess I cannot but shudder when I think what might have been the consequence if you had met each ©therein single combat. I thank God that you did not. If a man of your talents and celebrity will excuse me, I could wish that you were a parson, to display those talents in the pulpit in praise of the Redeemer and of His matchless grace to our ruined world. In that case you would be free from the imagined necessity of chal- lenging, and not liable to be challenged." Here was an opportunity to put in a word to a man of talents against the practice of duelling, and to invoke his aid in praise of the Redeemer, which he did not hesitate to embrace. Who knows that this good seed, sown in this good ground, did not bring forth its fruit in due season. We know, at any rate, that this shining light of the bar became in after years a luminary of the church ; and though not a parson, one who exerted his influence in every practicable way in acknowledging this matchless grace and singing praises to the Redeemer. But we return to the circumstance of the challenge to Parson Buchanan by Col. Tateham, and we shall see how he treated it. This Col. Tateham was a gentleman at one time of good intellect and high standmg; but he possessed a monomania on a subject which led him into the wildest vagaries, while on all other topics he was per- fectly sane. On ordinary occasions, he would not only converse intelligibly, but could make himself exceedingly agreeable. In the main, he was harmless and inoffensive; 214 THE TWO PAES0N8. but as his disease increased in intensity, he became hope- lessly insane. He was fully persuaded that he was entitled to three peerages in England. He would descant for hours upon his high honors and immense wealth. Then, again, he cherished the belief that he had a right to a benefice, and was the patron to whom an advowson of the church be- longed, possessing this privilege under a grant from King George the Third. Accordingly, with a view to select some parson to be his rector or perpetual curate, as he might determine, he went to hear Parson Buchanan preach, and this he followed up for two or three Sundays, paying particular attention to his doctrine, his mode of inculcating it, and his arguments as drawn from the Bible. Besides this, he went about in the most cautious man- ner, investigating the moral character of the good man, after the modern manner of detectives, dogging his steps from house to house,' and nosing out all the little tittle- tattle that might be gossiped about him. After the closest and strictest scrutiny, he heard but one universal testi- mony, that this was a good and holy man, without re- proach. On one occasion he commenced his investigation by making inquiries of a gentleman, which the latter thought ■derogatory to the Parson. He was instantly stopped, and in an angry tone informed that no such remarks would be permitted in his presence. With perfect com- posure, and in the mildest manner, he replied : " My dear sir, you mistake me entirely; I have the most unbounded confidence in Parson Buchanan, but I am in the discharge of a solemn duty. I have a right to present to the bishop the Parson as a proper person to be inducted into my benefice, and the bishop has the right to refuse him for many reasons; therefore I desire to be armed at all DUEL PARSON BUCHANAN AND COL, TATEHAM. 215 points to meet and overcome his objections, should he offer any. He may object on the ground of unfitness ; that is, if he be an outlaw, an excommunicate, an alien, under age, or the like, Next, with regard to his faith or morals, as for any particular heresy or vice, that is, '"'•malum, in se^ This is good cause for refusal. But, you perceive, if the bishop alleges in general that he is schisviatimis iaveteratus, or cites a fault that is malum j)rohihitam merely,, as haunting taverns, playing at un- lawful games, or the like, it is not good cause for refusal. Or lastly, the person presented may be unfit to discharge the pastoral olfice for want of learning. In any of which cases he may be rejected. Can you not perceive, there- fore, that my motive is good ? I intend to offer this bene- fice to Parson Buchanan, and as a man of honor, I am bound to investigate all these points thoroughly. I have satisfied myself that he is not wanting in learning. I discovered, it is true, that he did go into a tavern, but it was to administer to the wants of a sick fi-iend. I found out that he played a game of drafts with Parson Blair one very dreary, rainy day, when he could not get home in the rain; but I'll overlook this peccadillo, I could not fix upon him any schismaticxis inveteratus^ though I have listened carefully to detect even an approach to heresy. I think I am justified in appealing to his appearance alone to prove he is not under age. I presume, therefore, I may be excusable for any inquiries I may have made. I am satisfied that he is the man for the place, and I shall call upon him this morning to ascertain if he will accept my offer," With this view, while his mind was fully occupied with the subject, he walked rapidly to Mr. Buchanan's oflice, and in a hesitating manner rapped at the door. " Come in," said the Parson, He walked in, respectfully taking off his hat, and 216 THE TWO PARSONS. offered his band, saying: "I have taken the liberty to call upon a matter of business, and having come without introduction, must say that my name is William Tate- ham." " Be seated, Mr. Tateham ; I will attend to you \\dth pleasure.'' " I have been on several occasions to liear you preach ; I have been much pleased with the simplicity and beauty of your style, the clearness with which you present your opinions and doctrine, and the soundness, as I think, of your views. I hope you will excuse me, but I greatly admire also the simplicity of your dress, the plainness of the place in which you preach, and the apparent concord of yourself and flock, together with the harmony with which you and Mr. Blair unite in advancing the cause of God." "'I fear," said the Parson, "you are disposed to flatter. This is one of the most serious perils ministers of the gos- pel have to encounter ; they are constantly praised to their faces, and it is not often that they are even contradicted ; no wonder their heads are sometimes turned, and they be- come puffed up with vanity. I endeavor to discharge my duty to the best of my ability, and in such a cause there is no necessity for affectation, pride or vain-glory. If tlie heart is right and the intellect sound, the natural words that present themselves after due reflection are always the best, and in my opinion will be more apt to reach the conscience. Too many of o\ir public men, and even members of parliament, fritter away their best thoughts by a multiplicity of words. The sword of the Spirit is covered up with a fine spun cobweb that can scarcely be seen through." As soon as the w^ord pai'liament was pronounced, CoL Tateham became all animation ; this being a theme which touched every fibre of his brain, "My dear sir," said he DUEL PARSON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM. 217 excitedly, "have you ever been in parliament? Have you been in the House of Lords ? Are you a peer of the realm ? " " Of course not," said Parson Buchanan, " I only al- luded to the mode of speaking by members in delil;)erative bodies, and sometimes by members both of the House of Commons and House of Lords, whom I have heard in former days, and of whom I have read in more modern times." "Sir," said Tateham, with nmch assumed dignity, "you should have been in the House of Lords wdien I was in my seat." Here he stood up, raised himself to his full height, and put himself in position for entering into de- bate. " The style you speak of as so appropriate was the very mode I adopted in all my efforts as a peer, as the most effective and powerful. By this means I never failed to bring down the House, and even grave bishops would forget their dignity and unite in cheering." " Indeed," said the Parson, " I beg pardon ; but I was not aware I was in the presence of a peer of the realm." " Of course, my dear sir, no man would suppose that one who had been accumstomed to wear parliamentary robes of scarlet cloth, with bars of ermine to designate his rank w^ould be seen here in your sanctum wdth such a dress as I prefer now, for its simplicity. You know dukes are distinguished by having four ermine bars on their robes, and earls by three bars. Do you know sir, that any man convicted of spreading a scandalous report re- garding a peer of the realm, no matter whether true or false, is guilty of scandahim magnatmn, and is subject to an arbitrary fine, and to remain in prison until the fine is paid?" " But, my friend, what has all that to do with the busi- ness you had with me ?" said the Parson. "A great deal, sir. I was coming to the point, but it 14 218 THE TWO PARSONS. will not do in these grave matters to be hurried. It is essential for me to tell you that I am a duke, and have a thousand times been styled by my compeers, ' His Grace,' and the ' Most Noble,' and have had communications from his most gracious Majesty, King George, addressing me as ' Our right trusty and right entirely beloved cousin and councillor.' Why sir, His Grace is likewise, upon some occasions, entitled to l)e styled 'Most High, Potent and Noble Prince.' There is a dignity about a peer that can scarcely be comprehended by a common man. When arraigned even for a (iriminal offence it must be before his peers, who return their verdict, not upon oath, but upon honor." "But," said the Parson, beginning to think he was dealing with a madman, and, therefore, that it was proper to humor him, " To what am I indebted for the honor of this visit from 'Our right trusty and right entirely be- loved cousin and councillor.'" "I see, sir, you appreciate me, and, therefore, I will re- veal to you what I have heretofore kept secret from my new acquaintances. There is that in your face which in- duces me to believe I may trust you. You see. Parson, the dukedom, the most elevated dignity in the English peer- age, after having become extinct, was revived in the per- son of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, and the dukedom has descended regularly through the Grenvilles to the present Richard Plantaganet Temple, Duke of Cornwall and Lancaster ; Nugent-Brydges-Chandos-Gren- ville. Earl Temple, Viscount and Baron Cobham in the peerage of the United Kingdom ; Earl Nugent in the peerage of Ireland, K. G. and G. C. K., Knight of the Garter and Grand Chamberlain of the Household." "You say, sir," replied the Parson, "that yoti are the identical Richard Plantaganet Grenville." " Permit me, sir, to interrupt you. I said Richard DUEL PARSON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM. 219 Plantaganet Temple, Niigent-Brydges-Chandos-Grenville, Duke of Cornwall and Lancaster, and F. S. A." " I beg pardon," said the Parson. If you are that most high, potent and noble prince, how do you happen to pass by the name of Tateham ?" " Why, sir, it is the simplest question to answer in the world. There seems to be a difficulty, I admit ; but you see, sir, I am the actual possessor of two peerages of dif- ferent rank, and these entitle me to assume any name I please. To your luminous mind, I have no doubt, I have made the matter quite plain. I beg you will permit me to develop my title to my earldom, and then you will see the reason why these statements are essential to your just appreciation of this important business." "My dear sir," said the Parson, "I confess I do not perceive your ol)ject, or the drift of your argument; but you will proceed." "Then, sir, it becomes me to be concise, and I shall not go so fully into this grand theme. You will now be able to perceive that I am unquestionably an earl. You know the title of earl, which existed in England before the Conquest, was originally annexed to a particular tract of land. There were three descriptions of earldoms. The first, being the one through which I receive my title, was annexed to the seisin and possession of an entire county with jura regalia^ in which case the county be- came palatine, and the person created earl thereof ac- quired regal jurisdiction and royal seignory. By reason of the royal jurisdiction, the Earl Palatine had power over all the high courts and offices of justice, which the king had, with a civil and criminal jurisdiction, and by reason of his royal seignory, he had all the royal services and estreats also ; so that a county Palatine was in every respect a feudal kingdom of itself, but held of a superior lord. The style of an earl is 'Right Honorable,' and he 220 THE TWO PARSONS. is officially addressed by the crown, ' Our right trusty and well-beloved cousin,' and also has the title of 'Most noble and puissant Prince.' In short, Parson, I am, be- yond the power of contradiction, Charles John Howard, Earl of Suffolk, and Earl of Berkshire, Yiscount Andover, of Andover county, Hants, and Baron Howard, of Charl- ton, county Wilts, and was married to Isabella, daughter of the late Lord Henry Molyneux Howard, who, my dear sir, I have had the misfortune to lose, she dying without issue." "Well then, it appears plain to my mind," said tlie Parson, "that you claim to be Duke of Buckingham, Earl of Suffolk, and many other noble names at the same time, whilst, like many evil disposed persons and de- ceivers, you pass under the alias of William Tateham. Now, you will pardon me for saying, as I am too plain a man to associate with men of your rank and immense wealth and power, I hope our intercourse will terminate with this interview." " I perceive," he said, carelessly, " you are like the rest of mankind — ^}'ou have not the discrimination to decide between a real and a counterfeit jewel. Yery well. I have schooled myself to keep cool, and to avoid anger and rashness, and as I came here for your good, I will,, without regarding your insinuation, proceed to business." " You are long in coming to it," said the Parson, " and my time is valuable." "Yery well, sir; I shall take a note of your remark. !Now, you know, for you were compelled to learn it in your studies for the ministry, that, in very early times, election was the usual mode of elevation to the Episcopal chair throughout all Christendom ; and this was promiscuously performed by the laity and clergy, till at length, it be- coming tumultuous, the emperors and other sovereigns of Europe took the appointment in some degree into their DUEL PARSON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM. 221 own hands, by reserving to themselves the right of con- firming these elections, and of granting investiture of these temporalities, without which confirmation and in- vestiture, the elected bishop could neither be consecrated nor receive anj secular profits. Then, sir, you will admit I am, as earl, a patron with a right of presentation to a benefice, and I desire to present you with any benefice in my gift, giving you the right of selection at any time within the next sixty days. The fact is, I may present you either as parson or vicar. A parson, you know, is so called from persona^ because, by his person, the church, which is an invisible body, is represented, and he is in himself a body corporate, in order to protect and defend the rights of the church which he personates. I will say to you, sir, that the appellation of parson, however it may be depreciated by familiar, clownish and indiscriminate use, is the most legal and most honorable title that a parish priest can enjoy, because such a one is said ' vicem sen personam ecclesice gerere.'' If you accept my offer, the bisliop will institute or invest you into the spiritual part of the benefice; for by institution the care of the souls of the parish is committed to the charge of the parson. After this is done, I shall be prepared to induct you into the corporeal possession of the church, or grant you investiture of the temporal part of the benefice. I shall do this by having a bell tolled, to give all the parish- ioners notice and sufiicient certainty of their new minister, to whom their tithes are to be paid. Now, sir, I have unfolded my plans and purposes, and I must solemnly require you to accept this charge, and permit me to put you in possession of this valuable benefice." Here he paused for a reply. The Parson scanned him closely, looking him full in the eye. Few madmen can stand this test. Tateham tried hard to return the stare, but his eye 222 THE TWO PARSONS. quailed and turned in another direction. " I demand to know," he said," " will you accept this charge ?" "I have," said the Parson, (who had quite lost his patience during this rigmarole,) "listened to you with what forbearance I could summon from beginning to end, and to cut the matter short, will say unequivocally, if you had all you say you have in your gift, and a thousand- fold added, I would not accept it. I have no such am- bition." " Will you condescend so far from your dignity as to tell me why you will not ? Assign me a reason^ sir," emphasizing the word reason, and slamming his fist against the table with violence. "Sir," said the Parson, wdth great coolness, and in a mild tone, "I am perfectly satisfied with the position I now occupy, and do not desire to add to my pecuniary means. I have, by the blessing of the Almighty, enough to supply my wants." " You profess to be a parson, and assign to me that as the true reason for your rejection of my proposition, when you know, before God, that you do not credit my sincerity, my identity, or my truthfulness, and that those are the reigning motives that actuate you." "I have no hesitation in saying that the motive I as- signed was the one which would actuate me under any circumstances; and I shall not hesitate to say, in addition, I do not believe one word of the rigmarole and nonsense you have bored me with for the last hour, and not one word of your ability to accomplish what you propose." "Do you mean to say, sir, that I am not a duke or an earl, and that I have uttered here deliberate falsehoods V " I mean to say that I do not believe that there is one word of truth in the whole statement. You are an im- postor; either deceived yourself, or wilfully deceiving others." DUEL PAESON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM. 223 "You are not aware of the import of yonr words, sir," said Tateham, gra^dl3^ " You will be called to a strict accountability for this language. In an hour's conversa- tion I have not uttered one word of truth ! I an im- postor! My statements a rigmarole and filled with non- sense ! I have bored you and made pi'opositions which I am not able to fulfil!" Then, rising from his seat with great dignity, he took his hat. "I will let you know you are not at liberty to treat a gentleman with indignity. I have stored this language in my sensorium, and you will hear from me further through my friend, Sir Granville Orville. I bid you good morning, sir," and he majesti- cally stalked out of the room. As soon as he was gone the Parson soliloquized after this fashion : " Well, the man is certainly a monomaniac, and has stored his mind with a great deal of knowledij-e upon the subjects which have unhinged it, and as soon as I discovered his delusion, I determined to keep cool and humor his vagaries. He uses good language, and is thoroughly convinced of his privileges and rights; and besides, it is evident he intended to do me a service, and I regret that I permitted myself to be roused to contradict him. It is hard for a man to bear a dictatorial manner, and to be taken to task by one whom he knows is repre- senting himself to be what he is not. I suffered myself to be roused, when reflection for a moment would have excited my pity. I do pity the poor man from the bot- tom of my heart, and if the matter were to do over again should humor him to the end. "Here is a question for casuists to decide. The pro- priety of admitting the truth of a statement made to you, when you know it to be false. The propriety of making an effort to undeceive a mind thoroughly possessed of a false belief, when contradiction only strengthens the belief, and brings yourself into danger." 224 THE TWO PARSONS. We leave the Parson to his meditations, and to discuss the propriety of the exercise of his pity in a case like this. We happen to know that, at another time, another gentleman took this course, and as soon as he exhibited the least inclination to commiserate Col. Tatcham, he as- serted his dignity with tenfold aggravation, and could scarcely be restrained from inflicting personal chastise- ment upon him, for supposing that a duke or an earl could be cast down as low so to be the subject of pity by a commoner. We follow Col. Tateham to his own apartment, where we find him in consultation with his friend. Sir Grenville Orville, who was an ofiicer of the Englisli army, and had no knowledge of the actual monomania of Col. Tateham. The truth is, on ordinary occasions, he appeared to be an intellectual, high-toned man of honor, agreeable, socia- ble and friendly, and he had manifested his hospitality to Col. Orville, and loaned him a small sum of money, which had placed liim under obligations, rendering him more in- clined to aid him in the present difficulty. "Now," said Tateham, "permit me to lay the subject before you truthfully and calmly, and then, as a man of honor, I wish you to give me your advice. I do not desire to do anything liastily or in a passion, but I do not intend to brook an insult. I made a proposition to a gentleman by the name of John Buchanan, who, I admit, is a wortliy man — a proposition for his benefit — which he did not deny was so intended ; upon which, he stated in the most unequivocal language, that, in an hour's con- versation, I had not uttered one word of truth: asserting that I was an imposter ; that my statements were nothing but a rigmarole of nonsense ; that I bored him, and made propositions which I knew I was not able to fulfil. This language, I told him, I should store in my sensorium, and it is here," touching his forehead. "Now I ask you, as DUEL PARSON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM. 225 a man of honor, not accustomed to permit sucli language to be used to yourself, what ought I to do ? " "Are you certain," said Col. Orville, "that you have made no mistake in quoting his language ^ It seems to be very strange conduct. In what way had you insulted him? I must know all the facts to give you proper advice." "I know I have quoted his language almost verbatim. Such things are not easily effaced from my memory. The only thing that I can recall is, that I told him I could see from his manner that he had rejected my offer, because he did hot credit my sincerity, my identity, or my truth- fulness; and you know, my friend," said Col. Tateham, "you can tell what a man means by his manner as cer- tainly as by his words. If he doubted my sincerity, he doubted my veracity; and if he doubted my identity, after I had candidly told him who and what I was, of course he equally doubted my veracity ; and I am not the man to permit any one to tell me to my face that I am a liar." " Col. Tateham," said Col. Orville, " I do not see, if I put the case to myself, what I could do but send him a challenge, and demand the satisfaction which his un- justifiable conduct and language has given you the right to claim." "That, sir, is my unalterable determination, and I have only one more request to make; will you, as a military man, an officer in his Majesty's service, do me the favor to act as my friend in this matter ? I want a man of dis- cretion, in whose sense of what is due from one gentleman to another my honor will be kept unsullied. I have no passion in this matter, not a whit, but I intend to take this gentleman down a peg or two from the high-horse he has mounted. Will you be the bearer of my chal- lenge ?" 226 THE TWO PARSONS. " Certainly. It will afford me pleasure," said the Colo- nel. "Do you want the matter brought to a speedy issue, or will there be any necessity for delay ?" " In these concerns," said Col. Tateham, " I am a minute man; I will brook no delay. The gentleman must retract, or his life or mine shall be the forfeit. I mean work, quick, sharp and decisive. I know he will have the right to select weapons ; but I am ready for any- thing, from a pistol to a seat together on a keg of powder, each with a lighted match in his hand. Of course, then, you will not higgle about terms. As to the place, any- where will answer for me." " I think," said Col. Orville, " I understand you per- fectly. There is to be a light, and no withdrawal of notes and that sort of diplomacy. Now, my dear sir, shall I draw up the challenge, or will you ?" " Do it yourself," said Col. Tateham. " 1 put myself in your hands;" and wdiile Orville took paper and pen, he commenced slowly pacing the floor, as if in deep thought. In a few minutes the following note was sub- mitted for approval: "Richmond, Ya. "Sir: This moi"ning, in a conversation between you and myself, without the slightest provocation, you in- sulted me most grossly, by the use of language to which no gentleman can submit without degradation and dis- honor. Your attention was called to the language, and you neither apologized nor retracted. I therefore de- mand the satisfaction usual among gentlemen under such circumstances. I take it for granted that this will not be evaded or denied. My friend, Col. Grenville Orville is- authorized to make the necessary arrangements. "I am, with due respect, your obedient servant." DUEL PARSON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM. 22T^ Col. Tatehara took the note and solemnly read it through. " Sir," he said, " I shall not dot an i or cross a t. You will oblige me by carrying it forthwith." He attached his signature without further comment. The interview between Col. Tateham and Parson Buchanan, and the arrangements w'e have just detailed, took place in the morning. In the afternoon, when the Parson returned to his sanctum, and was engaged in his ecclesiastical studies, he was interrupted by the knock of Col. Orville. He im- mediately opened the door, and asked the gentleman to walk in. "Is this Mr. John Buchanan?" said Col. Orville. "It is, sir," was the response. "I am, sir, Col. Grenville Orville, of his Majesty's light dragoons. I have the honor of being the bearer of a note from Col. Wm. Tateham to you, sir." Saying this, he handed him the note. Col. Orville took out his watch, ascertained the time of day ; and whilst Parson Buchanan was reading the note, made a memorandum of the precise hour and minute when delivered. After the good man had perused the note, he raised his face and smiled. " I do not know," said he, " whether this is intended in jest or in earnest. The whole affair is supremely rid- iculous." " I caution you, sir," said Col. Orville, respectfully, " to weigh the w^ords you may use, and not characterize any- thing my friend Col. Tateham or I may do in this matter as ridiculous. You have used language already which has been excepted to, and I cannot permit language dis- respectful to my friend to be used in my presence." " Do you know, sir," said Parson Buchanan, " who CoL Tateham is ? Are you aware that he is a monomaniac ?' '228 THE TWO PARSONS. I think it probable you do not know that I ara^a minister of the Episcopal church ?" " Do you not know, sir," said Col. Orville, " that ex- ceptions taken to the character of the principal in matters of this kind — taken to his sanity or insanity — his bravery or cowardice, only transfers the quarrel from the principal to the second ? K he is a monomaniac, I am not. If he is in jest, I am not aware of it, and I am in dead earnest. You have only to accept or reject the demand made upon you. I am not here to bandy epithets. If you object to my principal, I am here to stand in his shoes. As to your being a minister of the Episcopal church, that is of no manner of consequence. If as such you cannot re- strain yourself from insulting a gentleman; and yet more, if after the insult is given, and your attention is called to it, you neither apologize nor retract the offensive words, you are and ought to be more amenable to responsibility than others." "Now, my dear sir," said our estimable friend, "I do not intend to be placed in a false position upon this sub- ject. I know, until this day you were a stranger to me ; and I doubt if you even know my position in society. I believe you are comparatively a stranger to Col. Tateham, and do not know his condition, for I understand he is very cautious at times. I am satisfied you have not had an opportunity to ascertain his mental delusions; and, therefore, I ask you to listen to me patiently. I have no feeling or passion in this matter. I am a man of peace. I am not afraid of man or any injury that man may in- flict on my person ; but I tell you that, in regard to my relations with my Maker, I am a very coward in doing wrong. I am afraid to violate my Master's command, ' Thou shalt do no murder.' 'And ye know that no mur- derer hath eternal life abiding in him.' ' Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.' If I kill another wilfully with DUEL PARSON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM. 229' malice in my heart, or if I induce another to kill me, it is deliberate murder. Duelling involves a violation of the moral and divine law. It is my duty to reprobate this practice as a relic of barbarism. It is not based either on reason or justice; and on this liead I might urge many grounds for positively refusing this challenge. But the truth is, there is no just foundation for a quarrel or offence between Col. Tateham and myself ; and much less for <:»ffence between Col. Orville and myself. " Now, I beg you to give me your attention a little longer. There is one subject upon which Col. Tateham is a monomaniac. He maintains that he is entitled to two peerages in England, and requires his hearers to believe this statement. And then he believes that he has at- tached to this peerage the right of presentation, institu- tion and induction of a parson to any parish either in England or the State of Virginia. He offered me this parsonage, which I declined to accept, and upon inspect- ing my countenance he professed to have discovered that I doubted his whole story and the foundation upon which it rests; and then he demanded of me categorically, to admit or deny my belief in his assertions. And I as categorically asserted that I did not believe a word of its truth, that it was nothing but a figment of his brain. Now, does any man believe that I, a minister of the gos- pel, in good repute among my brethren, would be justi- fied in taking the life of a gentleman of diseased mind upon such a cause as this, or in risking my own life to vindicate my honor upon such a flimsy ground ? I must say, therefore, unequivocially, that I decline to accept the challenge under any and all circumstances. But I will say still further. Col. Orville, if you will subject Col. Tateham to the test of alluding to his peerages, you will be satisfied of the impropriety of this challenge. I have a pity and regard for this gentleman. He is evidently a. 230 THE TWO PARSONS. man of talents and good family, and has been accustomed to the amenities and courtesies of good society, and from his pecular idiosyncrasy of n:iind is not accountable for his actions: I am willing, thei'efore, to humor him, and T3y conciliation, to restore his composure and regain his good opinion. You can take time to make the trial I recommend, and then if you concur with me and think it advisable, we will counsel together as to what further steps it may be proper to take." " I have listened to you patiently, sir," said Col. Orville, "and considering your position, which I was not aware of, and the candid statement you have made, which your manner assures me is not fictitious, I shall content my- self for the present with informing Col. Tateham that his challenge is not accepted." AVith this intimation. Col. Orville offered his hand and bade the Parson adieu. The next day the following note was received : " Friday Morning. " The Rev. J. Buchanan, " Dear Sir : It affords me pleasure to tender to you an apology for my conduct in our interview on yesterday. I have seen Col. Tateham, and upon addressing him as ' our right trusty and right entirely beloved cousin and councillor, the Duke of Buckingham,' he evinced so clearly his monomania, that I am entirely satisfied that he is not responsible for his actions. I have prevailed upon him also to apologize to you, whicli I am authorized to do in the fullest manner. 1 ask to withdraw the note I presented on yesterday. Col. Tateham desii-es to mani- fest his friendship for you ; and I am sure, from your character, if you should accidentally meet, you will show him all civility. It is probable the subject will not be alluded to again. DUEL PARSON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM. 231 " Sincerely lamenting that your eqaanimity should have been in the least disturbed, I beg to subscribe myself, " Your friend and obedient servant, " Granyllle Orville, Col. L. DP We desire to add but one more incident to the circum- stances we have just related. At the time of which we are writing, there was an old wooden building on the south-west corner of Capitol Square, called the " Barracks." In this building the Pub- lic Guard of the State was stationed. This was a military company established by the General Assembly in 1801, at the time when the contest for the election of Mr. Jeffer- son was at its height, and when party spirit was most bitter and virulent — after the passage of the alien and sedition laws by Congress. The preamble recites that " it is expedient, in the present crisis of affairs, that proper guards should be kept for the security of the public pro- perty in the city of Richmond," and this corps was in- tended to guard the Capitol and the public armory, then about being established. At first it was composed of the riff-raff and scum of the city, and was really of little or no service. But when the command was entrusted to that gentleman and fine officer. Captain Blair Boiling, it was soon elevated into respectability ; and subsequently, under the command of such oflicers as Captain John B. Richardson and Captain Charles Dimmock, became, as it justly deserved to be, equal to any of the regulars in the United States army. Captain Boiling was the commander at the time of which we are writing, and his first lieutenant was Elijah Brown. The company had attached to it a battery of four iron pieces, which were used to fire national salutes •on the fourth of July and the twenty-second of February. At other times it was drilled as an infantry corps. 232 THE TWO PARSONS. On the twenty-second of February, at the evening pa- rade, the company was drawn up in force on the phiteau in front of the old barracks, and was prepared to lire the sun-down salute. The command devolved on Lieutenant Brown, in con- sequence of the temporary absence of the captain, and the ensign and orderly-sergeant were each in charge of a half battery. We happened accidentally to be passing at the time, and hearing the exhilarating sound of the drum and fife, then played by Gardner and blind Edwards, than whom it was rare to find better musicians in their line, we paused to witness the firing of the salute. The first thing that struck us was the appearance of Col. Tateham, with whom we had been acquainted for some time, and of whose harmless monomania we had been aware for years. We saw him close to the musi- cians, and heard him say to Gardner, " I am going, Gardner, directly into eternity, and have but one request to make of you : Play the long roll, crescendo, and then diminuendo until it dies away as if in the far distance. Edwards, throw your soul into that fife. I have heard you do it until the big teai- started in my eye. Let it be sweet, old fellow." He then came to us, and, recognizing us, placed his arm in ours, and said cheerfully, " I am going to the re- surrection morn." We walked together in the rear of the guns, from the right to the left of the company. " Will you uot go with me to my long home ?" We saw from his excited manner that he had been drinking freely, but thought what we had heard was only one of his vagaries. It so happened that, to make a louder report, the guns were loaded with tobacco stems, twisted into a wad, and rammed tight upon the powder, and for some distance they flew with the force of a cannon ball. It happened,. DUEL PARSON BUCHANAN AND COL. TATEHAM, 233 too, that the guns were posted facing the east, and that the wind, which was light, and the atmosphere heavy, drove the smoke slowly from the south, the right of the line, towards the left, at which point we had paused. " In two minutes," said Col. Tateham, " I shall be in eternity." We heard Lieutenant Brown give the command, "Right half battery, ready." The ensign, " Right gun, lire !" The gun w^as iired. In the next half minute, before the smoke had cleared away, we heard the order, " Left half battery, ready." The orderly, " Left gun !" At this moment Col. Tateham, withdrawing his arm from ours, sprang directly before the muzzle of the gun, and raising his arms to their height, cried at the same moment with the officer, " Fire !" The tiring immediately ceased, and when the smoke was lifted, nothini*; remained Ijut the lifeless bodv of Col. Tateliam. The mortal was there; the immortal spirit had gone to the presence of its Maker. Before the company was dismissed, by permission of the lieutenant commanding, Edwards and Gardner stood over the remains of the unfortunate gentleman and com- plied with his request. Very few of those who surround- ed the body went away without shedding a tear. All were moved by the mournful pathos of that solemn dirge. Parson Buchanan read the service over his grave, and shed a tear of pity for his melancholy end. 15 CHAPTER XY. THE PARTRIDGE HUNT, AND THE PARSON'S SERMON ON HUNTING. WE have said that Parson Blair was very fond of fishing, and we have shown how he improved a fishing excursion, and endeavored to promote the cause of his Master b_y the analogy he drew between fishing for fish and fishing for men. We know, too, that he was equally fond of hunting, and that with his dog and gun he not unfrequently sought exercise and recreation in the fields, where he indulged in reflections which were stored in his mind for similar improvement. On a frosty morning in the latter part of October he was cleaning his gun, oiling the lock, filling his powder- flask and shot-pouch, and picking out a couple of new flints, for in those days percussion locks were not in use. He drew his rammer, and, wrapping a little soft tow around it, inserted it in each barrel ; then drawing it out, examined it closely, and found it free from rust or dirt. Then he wiped the pan and inserted the picker in the touch-hole, let down the hammer, loaded both barrels, and threw his bird bag over his shoulder. In his last reading of the Bible he had opened the book accidentally, and his eyes fell upon the First Book of Samuel, twenty-sixth chapter, and twentieth verse : "Now, therefore, let not my blood fall to the earth be- fore the face of the Lord ; for the king of Israel is come out to seek a flea, as when one doth hunt a partridge in the mountains." We can imagine how his mind played THE PARTRIDGE HUNT. 235 with this passage, for he delighted in themes like these. The idea of David comparing himself to a flea, and the king of Israel taking so much trouble and pains, even with an army, to catch him, and to hunt him as one doth a partridge in the jnountains, jumped with his humor. He said, " This shall be the text for my next sermon." We have had occasion to remember some notice he took of his famous dog Milo, and now that he is going hunting we must lament with him over the death of Milo, and present his epitaph on his old friend. It is pleasant to see the notice a good man takes even of his beasts ; but when he devotes more than a passing thought upon his dog, it displays the kindness of his nature. Hear him : The death of Milo, now no more, Ye tender muses, come, deplore. And aid his master to rehearse His merits in elegiac verse, For he was old and nearly blind; He was the truest of his kind. My coming he would always hail. Old as he was, and wag his tail. In hunting he had more renown Than any dog in all the town ; For though thick films his eyes enclose. He'd find a covey by his nose. Oft by his mistress he would stand And eat his morsel from her hand ; Then show his gratitude of heart By signs his instinct could impart; And when of sickness he'd complain. She'd pat his head and soothe his pain ; But to no purpose all her care. For death came in and claimed his share ; 236 THE TWO PARSONS. Worn out with sickness and with age, Last night poor Milo left the stage. Epitaph. Here lies Milo, aged ten; More faithful he than many men. The Parson was not long, however, wdthont another dog ; for his friend Jemmy Winston, whom we have had the pleasure of seeing with his pet lamb, hearing of his loss and knowing his fondness for a pointer, sent him his own well-trained dog, with a pleasant note, condoling with him for the loss of Milo, and saying that Milo's mantle had fallen on Clio, and he hoped " with a double portion of his spirit." The Parson smiled at the conceit, and as he mused he said: "Elijah said to Elisha, when he asked that a double portion of his spirit might fall upon him, 'Thou hast asked a hard thing.' It would indeed be a difficult thing to iind a dog with a double portion of Milo's spirit; but Jemmy's Clio roams the lields with splendid life and motion, has a first rate nose, and is well broke besides." There are many strait-laced people who think a parson must wear a demure face, must abandon all recreation, and devote no time to exercise or amusement — must lite- rally " pray always." This is not our opinion. A real Christian has more cause to be cheerful than a sinner. His face ous-lit to shine with the cheerful love which he bears to all men, and he ought to take pleasure in seeing others happy. He ought to know that there is a time for all things — "a time to weep, and a time to laugh." God has "made everything beautiful in his time." We know, and have had cause to feel, that recreation to the mind is as necessary as rest to the weary body. The man that devotes himself entirely to one occupation may become proficient in that, but he is apt to become dull THE PARTKIDGE HUNT. 237 and stupid on other subjects, and is unfit to enliven or instruct others; and this is the reason so manj^ people sleep while some good parsons are preaching. They have not learned the mode of propping open people's eyes with straws. The old mode was to split the straws and catch the upper lid in the split. The new mode ought to be to say something animating and instructive, and not in the dove-cooing tone. Recreation gives an elasticity to the mind, and the thoughts leap and spring with new vigor after relaxation. Amusement is a relative term. That which will amuse one man is dull, flat, stale, and insipid to another. One man amuses himself with books ; another with an inspection of the beauties of nature. Some enjoy driving, some riding, some fishing, some hunting; some scientific conversation, others light gossip. The young prefer dancing. The old — when the joints are stiff, and rheumatism has taken possession of the bones and the gout has rusted their aristocratic hinges — think that dancing is the last of all amusements, and denounce it as a folly and a sin. Everything depends upon the excess to which it is carried. Excessive dressing is sinful; ex- cessive eating is gluttony ; excessive drinking is destruc- tive to the mind, the body, and the soul; excessive pray- ing is fatiguing, and a neglect of other essential duties. But everything is beautiful in the time God has appointed for it. We have been led into these remarks by having before us a letter, addressed by a sanctimonious, over-zealous member of the church, to Parson Blair, reproving him for indulging in mere amusements, while he himself, with- out perceiving the beam in his own eye, indulged as zealously in other amusements to his taste, which some people would think far more objectionable. We make a short extract from this letter : " Such things, if they were ever so true, would not make me un- 238 THE TWO PARSONS. mediately conclude, with some, that you have no religion ; I would leave that for your own examination; but they would make me think that religion was in a low state in your soul, and afraid that sufficient pains were not taken to cherish divine impressions. If the soul is often under the cheering beams of Divine love, there will not be much time to spend in mere amusements. If we were much more engaged to find Christ living in us, we should live more to him." This is hyper-criticism. Such phrases as " low state of religion in your soul," "Divine impressions," "cheer- ing beams of Divine love," " no time to spend in mere amusements," are very proper in their place. A letter like this never did create other feelings than those of dis- gust since the world began ; and such were precisely the feelings of Parson Blair, for he put the letter in his desk, and it was never answered. There was another specification, however, of improper conduct, and that was the practice " of hunting and fish- mg." We have exhibited to our readers, without the least concealment, the characters of our beloved Parsons — placing them in positions which might be called equivocal, where, among intimate friends, there were playful levities, where fishing was adopted as a recreation. We now propose to exhibit Parson Blair perpetrating the sin of hunting, and we are not afraid to commend our parsons to Divine justice when all shall be required to give an account of their actions before the throne of God. Parson Buchanan, as we have seen, owned a farm, ex- tending into the present limits of the city, upon which ■was the celebrated spring known as Buchanan's spring. This farm had, during the summer, been cultivated in wheat. The land was rich, the crops were fine, the stubble was high, the cover excellent, the wheat shocks THE PARTRIDGE HUNT. 239" were still standing, and the birds had gathered there in large numbers. This was one of the days, too, when Parson Buchanan sought recreation at his farm. "Birds of a feather flock together," so there was nothing more natural than that Parson Blair should wend his way in that direction. Clio had been watching him with a practised eye. When he hung the powder-flask on his right side, she got up and looked in his face; when the shot rattled in the pouch, as he put his left arm through the strap, she ran around to the other side, and lay at full length, wagging her tail against the ground, until he put the wadding in his bag and lifted the gun, then she frisked about in the greatest delight, running ahead and stopping to obtain the direction. When he turned up the street, she knew perfectly where he was going, and ran off without waiting for orders. To watch all these motions of the dog was one of the enjoyments of the man. " Dogs," he said, " were made to be companions for man." He had no more devoted friend than Clio. There were then only a few old wooden houses in that part of Richmond. The open, unenclosed commons, in which all the cattle browsed, were close at hand, with their ravines and branches in every direction, filled with briers, Ijamboo, wild roses and all sorts of bushes. Away they hied over these, imtil they came to the cultivated fields. Through the fence Clio pressed sideways and the Parson climbed up and sat on the top of the rail, watch- ing the dog, who, fleet as the wind, swept before it, then coming back and sniffing, with head erect, and slowly passing to and fro, up and down, trailing, with nose on the ground, along the furrows. Suddenly she l)egan to creep, and then, with head turned to the right and eye- balls strained, she stood staunch. "Take care," shouted the Parson, and rapidly ap- proached ; but as he advanced, Clio wagged her tail. 240 THE TWO PARSONS. " Ah," said be, " tliat's a hare I Clio never shakes her tail at a partridge. Hie on, Clio I" Up sprang the hare in the stubble, but the quick eye of the Parson saw the cotton on its tail, and bang went the gun. Clio had it in an instant. "I could not help it," said the Parson ; " what can I do with such small game so early in the day ?" But he took it from the dog, patted her on the head, and bagged it. "Mrs. Perpetua will know what to do with it. A barbecued or fricasseed hare is not bad to take." A minute more the gun ^vas re-loaded. Clio was a hundred yards ahead, and began to show unmistakable signs of a cov^ey of birds. She Avould suddenly stop, then run on rapidly a few yards, and stop again. Now she ran aronnd, circling the birds in a narrow compass, and then stood dead staunch. " Take heed ! take heed !" ex- citedly shouted the Parson ; then, more deliberately, draw- ing the words out slowly, " Take he-e-e-ed, ta-ke heed," and getting close enough, he cried, "Hie on! hie on!" Clio sprang among them, and up rose a splendid covey of well-grown birds. First to the right, then to the left — both barrels in quick succession were discharged, and two birds were fluttering on the ground. Flurried marks- men hurry after the fallen l)irds; not so the Parson. He was marking the flight of the covey — Clio was taking- care of the game. " Gone to the branch," he said. He loaded again. Clio brought l)otli birds and laid them at his feet. They were speedily bagged. The Parson waved his hand in the direction of the branch; Clio took a bee line for the place, as if she had marked the covey while catching the two birds. "I am not afraid she will flush them," he said ; " Milo's mantle is certainly upon her, but the double portion is another thing." We show the direction the Parson's mind was taking by quoting what he said aloud : " As when one doth hunt THE PARTRIDGE HUNT. 241 a partridge on the mountains." A commentator on this passage makes this remark: "The Arabs have another, though more laborious, method of catching these birds, for observing, they become languid and fatigued after they have been put up twice or thrice, they immediately run in upon them and knock them down with their bludgeons. Precisely in this manner Saul hunted David, coming hastily upon him, putting him up incessantly, in the hope that at length his strength and resources would fail, and he would become an easy prey to his pursuer." The difference was very great, however, for Saul had with him three thousand chosen men, while David had only six hundred followers. Therefore David said, " For the king of Israel is come out to seek a flea." The same commentator remarks, " Tlie well-known little contemp- tible and troublesome insect, the flea, seems to be so called from its agility in leaping and skipping. David, by com- paring himself to this insect, seems to import that, while it would cost Saul much pains to catch him, he would ob- tain but very little advantage from it." The Parson knew he could not catch these partridges •with bludgeons, but he thought he would put them up as long as his own strength would permit. When he came to the branch, the undergrowth was so thick tliat he could not see the dog. " Hie on, Clio !" Away flew a bird on the other side of the branch. " That was my fault." He called the dog to him. " Close, Clio." She began smelling in the sedge close to the briers, and instantly stood in the most eager way, but like a statue. The whirr of the bird showed he was up, but by the time he reached the height of the bushes he was flut- tering in the branch, and the report of the gun caused another to rise, but the other barrel told the same tale. Both of them fell into the thicket. " Dead, Clio, dead." 242 THE TWO PARSONS. Li a little while first one and then the other was brought to the Parson's feet. "We had prepared this description of the partridge hunt in our prosy wav, when we remembered that we had laid aside a spirited poetic narrative of the same hunt by the Parson himself. We stop the press, as the newspapers say, to let the Parson tell it in his own style. THE PARTRIDGE HUNT. When tired with business, worn with care, I would unbend my mind, I call my pointer, take the air. And leave my cares behind. With gun in hand, I onward jog, To some adjacent fields, Where the true-scented pointer dog Abundant pastime yields. Now Clio beats with willing mind, Well skilled to act her part. With nose erect she snuffs the wind. While transport fills her heart. Big with expectance, forward I With quickened step pursue ; Not doubting that some game is nigh, I keep her full in view ; Till, bounding o'er a rising hill. At once she 'scapes my sight, Onward I press with eager zeal. And quick surmount the height. THE PARTRIDGE HUNT. 243 AVhen, see, with cautious feet and slow Slie creeps along the ground ; She goes, yet scarcely seems to go, In stillness most profound ; . With anxious voice yet half suppressed, ' Take heed ! take heed !' I cry, I feel a fluttering at my breast, The game, the game's liard by, 'Tis so; she stands as staunch as death, (Such is the sportsman phrase;) With sinews stiff, slie holds her breath. And I with ardor gaze. The partridofe squats with great affright Under its covert close. Hoping to scape the pointer's sight ^ Nor once suspects her nose. At distance yet, I pick the lock, Prepared for the surprise. Then slow advance to flush the flock, Which thunder as they rise. Precaution's vain, I'm all confused; They fly from left to right. Around, across, all interfused. They quite distract my sight. I flre at last, but they are gone. From every fear exempt ; Safe from the pointer and the gun, They mock my vain attempt. 24:4: THE TWO PARSONS. A while I stand, and at them look, As swift they skim the plain ; With care I mark the course thej took, And load mj gun again. 'Tis done, but with less sanguine hope, Thither I bend my way ; Meanwhile I cheer the pointer up, And briskly cry, " hie way !" The very word new joy supplies. It makes her gay and brisk. In blithesome mood away she hies. And bounds with wanton frisk. Anon, she winds them from afar, And high with joy she leaps ; But cautious as she draws more near. With weariness she creeps. If e'er you saw the wily cat Steal on a little bird, A semblance strong then, just to that The pointer stands compared. Description would but tire the muse ; Again, at distance fit. Staunch Clio stands, and with her nose Points to the place they sit. They rise, but now with sm-er sight, I straightway single one ; It falls, to Clio's great delight, A victim to the gun. THE PAETBIDGE HUNT. 245 I run and pick it up with joy, But sorrow soon succeeds ; The pleasure's mixed with great alloy, My heart with pity bleeds. "Poor helpless bird," I cry, "what harm Hast thou e'er done to me. That I against thy race should arm, And death inflict on thee ! " But such was nature's law; she gave For use their savory brood; Then blame not him whose wishes crave, Or birds or beasts for food. The Israelites of old were fed With manna and with quails. Then he that would their use forbid Man's privilege curtails. Yet let compassion's voice be heard. Full grateful in its sound, Ne'er kill for mirth a harmless bird, Nor give a wanton wound." Parson Buchanan having for some time heard some one banging away in his fields, took it into his head that it was brother Blair; so he called up Phoebe, his cook, and said to her, "He'll be coming up here by-and-by, as hungry as a wolf. He's always talking about feeding people with manna and quails. Take the quails out of his bird-bag, — they are my birds — cook them hot and juicy, and fix up something nice for his dinner." " Dats Mars Blair ; I know'd 'twas him," said Phoebe. Parson Buchanan put on his hat, and taking his cane 246 THE TWO PARSONS. trudged away toward the spring, rightly judging he would find his old crony there. Sure enough there he was, sitting with his back against the large willow that shaded the spring, with Clio lying at his feet. As Parson Buchanan approached, he sang out to his old friend, " I say, Nimrod, have you brought joiw own venison along for dinner? I told Phrcbe to cook the venison, and she wants to know, ' whar hit V " "Nimrod! indeed!" said Parson Blair, "Do I look like Cush ? Did 1 come from that branch of the family ?" He did not budge; hardly looked up. "Venison! old man; I see how it is. You are getting blind, and you think I am your son Esau, and that you called me to your side this morning and said, ' take, I pray thee, thy weapons, thy bow and thy quiver, and go out to the field and take me some venison.'" Then pleased v/ith the conceit, he took the hare out of his bird-bag. " Here is some small deer that Phoibe may make savory meat, such as thou lovest. When thou eatest it, rinse thy mouth wdth a little wine." Upon which he got up and shaking his brother's band most cordially, said, " You are too fond of venison." "Blair," said he, "you need not try to come over me wdth your subtlety like Jacob, substituting your hares for deer. You have some sermon in your head at this very minute, and because, seeing your gun and happen- ing to call you Nimrod, and to mention venison, you have gone off into quotations about hunting and quivers and bows and arrows. Come to the house, and we'll rest you, feed you, and thank and bless you to boot." Parson Blair picked up his trapping, exclaiming in his playful manner, "Well! well! well!" and the two fast friends jogged on together. "Put down your hat, man; give me your gun, and take off your duds ;" then raising his voice, " Here, Phoebe, THE I'AKTKIDGE HUNT. 247 take the bird-bag, you know !" and he winked at Parson Blair. Phfcbe coming in, made a low curtesy, bobbing up and down twice, " Mars Blair, how is you, master ? and how is Miss Molly ? f know'd that child when she was no bi";c;er than so — when old Mistis Winston used to come sweeping in the room in the ra'el old style. Ump-ooh ! Has you seed old Mistis lately, Mars Blair ^" "Well, Bhoobe, my old woman, Molly is toVrable spry, and though old missis has a little rhearnatin, Bhfobe, as old folks will have, you know, now and then, yet when- ever your Mars John comes in the door, the old lady will smooth her cap and prink a little ;" and he winked at brother Buchanan. "Now, Mars Blair, de ladies me!" And Blui'lje went out of the room, laughing and raising both hands, l)ring- ing them together, and twisting her fingers in great delight. "Brother Blair," said Buchanan, "how do you cv^er compose yourself in the pulpit to look so grave V This was the way these two old boys invariably carried on together." We once asked an old negro after his children. "Ah? master, they is carrying on such carrying on as you neber seed in your born days, dey is." After a while they became composed, the rub of the meeting passed ofP, and Parson Buchanan drew his chair near the lire, stretched out his feet, and crossed his hands in his lap. " You told me, some time ago, you were going to preach a sermon on hunting; is that on your mind still? Out with it, and PU help you, may be, with some heads or suggestions. It will pass off time pleasantly." " You must know, then," said Parson Blair, " that I had gone into my school room, where there was not a soul, had seated myself at the table, blank sheets before 248 THE TWO PARSONS. me, made a new pen, and put down in black and M'liite 1 Samuel xxvi. 20 : ' For the king of Israel is come out to seek a flea, as when one doth hunt a partridge in the mountains.' 1 was looking at it, waiting for the inspira- tion to come." " Lookino; at what ?" said Parson Buchanan. "There it is now; I knew it; I thought it; I said it to myself; it has been so ever since I was born. I would have bet — no, not bet — I would have prophesied that it would happen." " That what would happen ?" " That McCaw, or some other friend who had a right to interrupt me, would happen in at this express moment. And so he did, as cheerful, and cosy, and kind, and friendly as ever in his life. He is an open-hearted fel- low, you know. "'Blair,' sai'd he, in his rolicking style, 'what are you doing V "'Nothing,' I said, in utter helplessness of tone. " ' How do you do that ? It is the hardest thing that ever I undertook to do.' " ' Y^ou seem to be doing it with great facility,' and I laid the emphasis on you. '"But, Blair, you said you were doing nothing — pen in hand, paper before you, spectacles on, door closed.' " ' Yes ; but now, pen laid down, spectacles raised up, door wide open, friend entered, and, as he is doing notliing, sympathy induced me to follow his example.' " 'I just came to see what you were doing.' " ' I hope you have ascertained it.' "'Now, you see, Blair, parsons should not fret.' " ' TTas not Job a parson ? (If he was not, he was perfect and upright, and one that feared God and es- chewed evil.) Did he not say, 'I will not refrain my mouth. I will speak in the anguish of my spirit ; I will THE PARTRIDGE HUNT. 249 complain in the bitterness of mj soul.' Do you not know bow Bildad tbe Sbubite, and Zopbar the Naama- thite, and Eliphaz the Temanite, came to see Job when he was composing?' " ' Good morning,' said the Doctor. ' Fret on in peace.' '•'I do like the Doctor,' I said to myself; 'he knows how and when to take a hint. Some people do not. You tell them, 'Do you see that door?' they reply, ' Cer- tainly ; what is the matter with the door ?' Whereupon I have frequently ■ dropped into caniptions." Then slowly adjusting his spectacles to his nose, he sat as if waiting for another question. "What are the heads of the discourse, Blair?" " Haven't got one." " Well, what are the tails then ?" "Never have tails. Neither heads nor tails." " All body ! ha ?" said our patient brother, sooth- ingly. " Let's have a rib or two. Give us some of the heart." Then they stretched themselves out as before. Coincidences are curious things sometimes. There are but two passages in the Bible in which the word "part- ridge" is mentioned, and yet we remember a circumstance that happened many years ago in which that word played the part of a witness. A man, who looked like a gentleman, came into the Bank of Virginia, in Richmond, to change a fifty dollar note; and while the teller was counting the money, the cashier, who was talking to a gentleman at the counter, said: "Mr. Holcombe, you promised to carry a package of notes for me to the bank at Lynchburg;" and, in an undertone, added, " twenty thousand dollars. The pack- age is ready ; will you take it?" " I'll put it in my trunk, but it must share the fate of 16 250 THE TWO PARSONS. my clothes. I'll take the same care of it that I do of my own, but will not be responsible for loss." "Yery well," said the cashier; "we take the risk;" and he handed him the package. The stranger seemed to take no notice of what was said, received his change, and went out before the gentle- man. When he reached the door, he crossed to the other side of the street. The gentleman went on direct to the Eagle Tavern, and the stranger followed not far behind. Holcombe passed on up the stairs to his room. The stranger saw him close the door, and paused a moment at the top of the steps. In a little while he stepped to the door and knocked. "Come in," was the response. Holcome had taken oif his coat and was putting the package in his open trunk. "I beg pardon, sir; I simply wish to know which is Mr. Sampson's room." And while he waited for the reply, took a rapid glance at the trunk. It was a medium- sized black leather trunk, and had a pair of coarse boots tied through the straps to the leather handle. " You had better ask at the bar. I do not know Mr. Sampson's room." And, without looking up, he con- tinued repacking the articles in the trunk. The stranger closed the door and disappeared. That night, about three o'clock, the stage left the Eagle for Lynchburg. Mr. Holcombe and three others were the only passengers. His trunk, with the other baggage, was placed in the boot behind, and strapped on by the Sriver on the top of the other trunks. After slowly ascending a long hill, al)out five miles from Manchester, the driver, when near the top, thought he heard a trunk drop upon the ground from the boot, and, giving the reins to one of the passengers, got down and went behind, when, to his surprise, he found his THE PARTRIDGE HUNT. 251 straps cut, one trunk on the ground and another miss- ing. "Here's the devil to pay," he said. "I have not seen or heard a soul, and yet, since I left the foot of the hill, some rascal has stolen one of your trunks." Out jumped the passengers, without regard to the order of their going, each eager to discover his loss. "There goes twenty thousand dollars belonging to the Bank of Virginia," cried Mr. Holcombe, and he exhibited the greatest possible anxiety. The driver said: "The trunk with the boots tied to the handle is gone." "That was mine," said our friend. Away they went down the hill, hunting in every direc- tion, on both sides of the road, for tracks, for the lost trunk, or for some evidence to explain its disappearance. The driver was left with his horses, endeavoring to mend his straps and fasten up the boot. They could discover nothing. They concluded the driver must have been mistaken in asserting that all was right at the foot of the hill. Holcombe said he could not proceed with them ; he felt it to be his duty to return to Eichmond and give in- formation at once of what had happened. He trudged on to the nearest house he could find, and obtained a con- veyance to carry him to the city. The bank immediately oifered a reward of five thousand dollars for the recovery of the money and the detection of the thief. In a few days thereafter, the stranger who had changed the note in the bank when the package was delivered to Mr. Holcombe informed the cashier that he had recovered the money, and delivei-ed to him the entire amount. His account was that, while he was hunting partridges in the fields, he had shot a bird which flew into the woods in a crippled condition ; he pursued it some time, till he came 252 THE TWO PARSONS. near a thicket in a dell, and there he saw three negroes, sitting around a trunk and appearing to be counting out money to divide it ; that he had fired at and dispersed them, and then had found the package of money, and seeing the advertisement of the bank, had brought it to obtain the reward. The cashier questioned him very closely as to what had become of the trunk and its contents, and the only ac- count he could give of it was that he had left it where he found it, intending to have it taken home after his hunt, but when he returned it had been taken away. His account was contradictory and confused. This caused suspicion, and officers were sent to search his house, and, if necessary, to arrest him. They found in his chamber, from the ashes in the fire-place, that many substances had been recently burnt ; among the rest, the remnant of a great deal of printed paper, marks of the type still visible on the page. But in stirring minutely among tlie mass, they found a small piece unburnt, with these words perfectly distinct: "hunt a partridge." Mr. Holcomljo having said that he had bought a new Bible the day before he left the city from a book store, of a particular edition, and that it was in the trunk with the money, they took the imburnt piece to the store, and, by the help of the concordance of the Bible, found the passage in which these words occur, and the piece of paper fitted precisely the place, and demonstrated beyond doubt that it was a part of the leaf of that Bible. The man was arrested, tried and sent to the peniten- tiary, and one of the principal links in the chain of evidence against him was a part of the sentence, " As when one doth hunt a partridge in the mountains." This was the text our two parsons were consulting over when we were led into this digression. "Blair, we have to consider the circumstances which SERMON ON HUNTING. 253 surrounded Saul and David. David fled from Saul's presence, because Saul had not only threatened, but had attempted to take his life, and had sent emissaries to hunt and arrest him. David had induced a few of his personal friends to accompany him as a guard of protection from Saul's wrath. These had increased by his popularity to the number of six hundred; and Saul, from his jealousy, which nothing could allay, persisted in believing that David desired to overthrow him and usurp his throne. He had gathered to himself an army of three thousand picked men, with Abner, his best general, to command them, and they had pursued David, hunting him in caves and hiding places in the mountains, and driving him out of the very holes of the rocks. David continued at every opportunity to remonstrate with the king. 'N^otwith- standing all I have done, yet thou huntest my soul to take it.' Why does the king take so much trouble for nothing ? ' After whom is the king of Israel come out ? After wliom dost thou pursue ? After a dead dog — after a flea V He endeavors to impress upon the king his own insignificance, and makes himself to be as worthless as a dead dog, as diminutive as a flea. "And still there is a caution to be derived from the text. Few animals of its size are capable of giving greater annoyance and are more difficult to catch than a flea, and there are few things more fatiguing than hunting part- ridges in the mountains. I am a poor shot, as you know, brother Blair, and have not the endurance you have in pursuing a bird after its first flight, but I once attempted to hunt a covey of partridges which flew to the sides of the mountain. There are steep ascents, which are not visible until you come upon them; there are wide and. deep ravines here, there and everywhere, briers and brambles; you overcome one only to be met by another obstacle. Bj' the time you reach the point to which the 254 THE TWO PARSONS. birds flew, thej fly straight across a ravine, and alight certainly not more than a couple of hundred yards on the other side. To reach them, you must descend on one one side and immediately ascend on the other, until you are utterly exhausted, slipping, falling, rolling, scratched and plugged by every sort of rough and jagged impedi- ment. The intimation is, your army is perfectly worth- less in following me into positions like this. "But there is another lesson to be gained by the sur- roundings of Saul. A man, when he imagines himself safe, feels a degree of security, which of itself makes him doubly insecure. Saul knew that he had around him the pick and choice of all his host; he felt that Abner, with chosen sentinels, guarded his tent, and he placed implicit reliance on Abner. What was the consequence ? Saul in his imagined security gave himself up to repose, and slept most soundly. Abner hearing David proclaim him- self as worthless as a dead dog, and as insignificant as a flea, omitted to post the pickets, failed to require the sentinels to walk to and fro before the king's tent, or even before his own tent; in truth, the whole force, having been engaged for days hunting David in the caves of the mountains, were utterly fatigued and gave themselves up to rest. "Then David, hearing the stillness of the camp, said: 'Who will go down with me to Saul's camp?' And Abishai said, ' I will go down with thee.' Two as brave and daring men as ever attacked wild beasts in their lairs. " They found Saul sleeping within the trench, and the spear stuck in the ground at his bolster. And Abner and the people lay around about him. And Abishai, seizing the spear, w^as about to smite Saul to the earth, saying, ' I will do it so effectually it will not be necessary to smite him a second time.' And David said, 'destroy SERMON ON HUNTING. 255 him not, for who can stretch his hand against the Lord's anointed and be guiltless.' " "There is another consideration," said Parson Bucha- nan. "Now all these things happened unto them for ensamples; and they are written for our admonition. We must not be too secure, even as to our own religious con- dition. 'Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.' " Few men, when puffed up with their own self-im- portance, are able to look within, and contemplate the frequent recurrence of evil thoughts that intrude them- selves upon the very best of men. They begin to think and to say, 'Lord, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all that I possess.' I neither hunt nor fish, nor dance, nor indulge in frivolities of dress or entertainments. Then they imagine that the three thousand guards that they have thrown around themselves will be ample to protect them from the assaults of the evil one. They stick their spear in the ground by the side of their bolster, having no use for any protection. But there are times when the conscience sleeps, and cannot be awakened ; when the heart either softens or else becomes hard as flint; when the eye and the ear, the guards of the intellect, are enchanted, and all the sentinels are reposing in fancied security; then it is that the devil comes softly by the bolster, and seizing the spear, thrusts it into the soul; and nothing but the Lord's anointed can revive and re- suscitate that soul. Here is the lesson. David spared the Lord's anointed. The Lord's anointed may spare the sinner. There is but one way to ensure that salvation. Repent and believe. But how often does it occur that while the bridegroom tarries, the sinner is slumbering 256 THE TWO PARSONS, and sleeping. Be assured there will be a time when the door will be shut." "Brother Buchanan," said Parson Blair, "I thought this was my sermon." " Well, you know, you went forth and shot my birds, and appropriated them. I doubt not you will have less scruples in appropriating my ideas, if they suit you." " You have had all the partridge hunt to yourself," says .Parson Blair, " but you have said not a word about the advantages of having helps in a hunt. What chance has a man hunting birds without a dog; he must be a trained dog, too, or he is not only in your way, but spoils all your sport ? What chance has a huntsman without a gun against a bird that flies ?" " You put it too flne. Brother Blair ; he might use a bow and an arrow, a trap or a net. The j^rabs, for in- stance, knock down partridges with bludgeons; and the experienced kill bags full of sora with common paddles." " Gun, without powder and shot ? " continued the speaker, not heeding the interruption. "Did David have a gun, or powder or shot, when he went to hunt Saul at the camp ?" urged Parson Bucha- nan. " He had Abishai with him, and that helped to steady his nerves ; and Abishai took the spear in an instant, and that gave him strength." Here we will interpose one remark. Preachers have great advantages in one respect: they have no one to in- terrupt the flow of their ideas, none to arrest the current of their thoughts, none to dispute their premises; wliile a popular orator, on the other hand, is liable to be ques- tioned by every listener, and to have fun poked at him from every side, and sometimes he is contradicted flatly. To the ready and smart, even this is a great advantage, for the quick repartee, well put and highly seasoned, will SERMON ON HUNTING. 257 shut up the most brazen, impudent scamp, and elevate the speaker in the estimation of the crowd. But it must be ready and a point-blank shot. "JSTow, Brother Buchanan, I am astonished at you. "What would the Arab do Mdthout the help of his blud- geon ? What would the sora catcher do without the help of his paddle, and the boat to push through the mai'shes? I say, the ignorant sinner requires help; he is gi'oping in the dark ; he does not understand half the passages he reads in the Bible ; perchance he cannot read the Bible at all. What a help it is when a man of pati- ence, a man of real piety, a man of undoubted truth, a man of good heart and holy soul, of unblemished life, an example to the faithless, a well-trained hard student of the divine word, like you. Brother Buchanan, comes to such a sinner, and expounds and explains to him^ the dif- licult passages, smooths the ruts and opens the ditches by the side of his road, that he may pass along without jolts, and keep out of the mud and mire of despondency. If the preacher or expounder knows not what he attempts to expound, roams over the field like an unbroken dog without finding a covey ; runs on the back-track of some animal of which w^e have no thought or care; or after finding the birds, flushes them before the gunner can get in shooting distance, and bounds aloft wildly, yelping at nothing, it would be better to confine him in a lunatic asylum. So with the dog: tie him in his kennel, and if you have a kind heart, feed him, but let him not hunt with you for partridges. "Suppose the gun is defective, the lock out of order, the powder damp, the flint has lost its fire, — what use is it to the huntsman ? Place such a man at a deer stand. Bet it be by the side of a shallow pond ; stand him up by the side of a tree ; let him get behind it, so as to liave a good rest ; let the deer come slowly and cautiously to the 258 THE TWO PARSONS. water; let it walk in and lie clown, and let our friend, with cocked . gun, shivering with a buck ague, sum up courage to pull the trigger. Snap ! Let him see that the deer hears the snap, and let him, in his flurry, cock and snap as fast as a flurried man would ; let him become cool, and take the gun down from his shoulder, and pick the flint and rub the steel with his hat : let him then take aim at the deer's eye, at his heart, at every part of his body — snap ! snap ! snap ! Up jumps the deer, and away in an instant, leaving our friend shouting at the top of his voice, ' Clear yourself, you good-for-nothing scamp,' and you will have a vivid conception of the value of a good gun, and the propriety of never going deer hunting with a bad one. " Could you expect to bring proselytes into a church with such a gun as that ? or with such a minister as that, shivering with a buck ague, and never al)le to Are a single shot ? " Let the presbyters and leading members be sound asleep ; let all the judicatories, rising in a series one above the other, be gently composed into a profound slumber, and let the reviewing and controlling body be so feeble as to be scarcely alive. Let the ministry be uneducated, and incompetent to interpret and decide matters of faith, and in matters of worship and discipline to legislate and decide what is most conducive to edification and godliness. Let the bishops, priests, and deacons, lay deputies and communicants follow the example of Saul and Abner. Let a ' deep sleep from the Lord fall upori them,' and David may say to all of them, as he said to Abner, ' This thing is not good that thou hast done. As the Lord liveth, ye are worthy to die, because ye have not kept your master, the Lord's anointed.' " Here Parson Buchanan interposed : " There are many and various kinds of hunting. There is such a thing as SERMON ON HUNTING. 259' hunting for lost sheep. ' "What man of yon, having an hnndrecl sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety-and-nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it V If the sheep has strayed away and laid down in the thicket and fallen asleep, or per- chance has been wounded, and cannot return to the fold, how much greater the necessity to hunt till he find it ! There are many lost sheej), wounded, not with spear or gun, but by evil tongues, by hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, envyings ; ' restore such an one in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself lest thou also be temp- ted.' When he can, by gentleness and kind persuasion, bring back such an one into the fold, he may well say to his friends and neighbors, ' Rejoice with me, for I have found ray sheep which was lost.' " Besides hunting for partridges, our huntsmen some- times take infinite delio;ht in huntino; foxes. The old- fashioned fox-hunting gentleman found it necessary to hunt foxes to protect their lambs and poultry. "The country was thinly settled, and the foxes were exceedingly troublesome and destructive. Every gentle- man prided himself on his pack of tlioroughbred fox hounds. Now they are kept almost entirely for amuse- ment. It is a luxury in which the wealthy chiefly in- dulge. They are men who generally love their ease and repose in indolence. Their dogs are kept in fine condi- tion, and over and over again we have seen them on their beautiful lawns, winding their silver horns for the pleas- ure of hearing their pack howl. They know the voice of each dog, and can descant by the hour on their (jualities and pedigree. They are able to rouse themselves to the most laborious and exciting chase for hours and days to- gether. One would think, to see their preparation, that the fate of the country was in the keeping of each noted squire ; and when they get under way, with a full pack of 260 THE TWO PARSONS. good hounds, the coldest looker on gives them an animat- ing cheer. The_y are all animated with generous rivalry to obtain the brush, and notwithstanding the recklessness of the riders and the worthlessness of the prize, when, you see them returning, the old squire in the lead with the brush in his hat, and behold the flush of success on his cheek, and hear his laugh and cheer, you cannot but feel elated. This is the result of hunting for fame, even in a fox chase. To be the foremost, outstripping the dogs, and to obtain the applause of your comrades is the object and end in view. "But excitement like this palls on the appetite when repetition has taken off the novelty, and such excesses not unfrequently induce those who partake of them to go hunting with Satan as their companion. It is a law of our nature that sinful indulgence begets a craving for further excess, and dissipation gradually glides into drunk- enness, and the drunkard becomes a pitiable dotard. He cannot even obtain the relief vouchsafed to Saul. Sleep is denied him. He has not the strength left to stick his spear by the side of his bolster as a means of protection. But he gives himself up, soul and body, to his wary and wily companion. In such cases the wretched man not only hunts with the devil, but he hunts for him — be- comes his decoy duck to bring Abner and his friends to sleep in the trenches, an easy prey to fatal security. " We must remember, too, that when we are hunting for the devil he has the ability to return the compliment ; and he has the advantage, for he hunts with fascinations that are overpowering. He places before us temptations that frail humanity can scarcely resist. He takes us up into the holy city, and sets us on the pinnacle of the temple, puffed up with pride at our great exaltation. He takes us, again, into an exceeding high mountain, and offers us all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them. SEEMON ON HUNTING. 261 He applies his opiates to lull us to sleep. There is but one alternative left. Invoke the Spirit of the Lord, and the cords upon thine arms shall become as flax that was burnt with Are, and thy bands shall be loosed from off thy hands. Let the tempted resort to the teachings of the wise, and forget not the admonitions of the prophets and the fathers who are dead. These shall become th& spear at thy bolster, which may be seized at the propitious moment. We know that the Lord's Anointed still liveth. His holy word is our best hunting-ground. Moses and the prophets are dead, but their precepts and teachings and example are living. Hunt among them. 'If ye hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will ye be per- suaded though one rose from the dead.' " The dev.il is not over particular about hunting his partridges in the mountains. The trouble is not as great with him as it was with Saul, but there the game is more scarce. He prefers gay courts and crowded marts, great cities and populous kingdoms. He delights in sleeping congregations and unguarded camps. At such times he gathers his partridges by thousands, as the Israelites did their quails in the wilderness. Few of us have an idea of the number of quails that were gathered. Moses com- puted the people before the Lord, and said, 'There are six hundred thousand footmen.' Then there were wo- men, and children under twenty years of age, and all these were to be fed with quails for an entire month. Moses said, ' It will take all the fish of the sea to sufiice them.' 'But there w^ent forth a wind from the Lord and brought quails from the sea, and let them fall by the camp, as it were a day's journey on this side, and as it were a day's journey on the other side, round about the camp, and as it were two cubits high upon the face of the earth' — that is, upwards of three feet high. Some have it they were flying about two cubits high above the 262 THE TWO PARSONS. earth. And as the people stood up, according to the narrative, 'all tliat day, and all that night, and all the next day,' and as he that gathered the least gathered ten homers, and each homer was equal to about eight bushels, each person must have gathered about eighty bushels of quails, which would make an aggregate of about a thousand million of bushels that were gathered. How many quails in each bushel we have not computed, but it could not have been much less than fifty, and this would give fifty thousand million of quails. No wonder in that hot climate that it produced a very great plague. " If Satan gathers into his garners his partridges in the same proportion, not by the month, but by decades even, there will be an awful number. Therefore well saith the Lord, 'Enter ye in at the strait gate; for^wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat.' "There is such a thing, too, as hunting for riches — hasting to be rich. 'There is,' saith Solomon, 'that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing; tliere is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches.' 'He that hasteth to be rich shall not be innocent.' He will not be content with the slow but honest means of accom- plishing his purpose. He must take short cuts and use unscrupulous means. He has a mania for speculation. He goeth forth into the streets, and on the curb-stones hunteth for those who are 'hard up,' as they call it, and he will not be satisfied until he has a mortgage on every- thing possible to be obtained, deeds of trust and good collaterals, and interest far exceeding what the law allows, and the oflicers of the law hunting his victim until he leaves him without a shelter for his head, or a pillow for his wife and children. He forgettetli" that 'as the partridge sitteth on eggs, and hatcheth them not, so he that getteth riches, and not by right, shall leave SERMON ON HUNTING. 263 them in the midst of liis days, and at his end shall be a fool.' Riches, properly obtained, are given to us by God as a blessing, and as a means of doing good to the wretched and needy. David saith, 'Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord, that delighteth greatly in his com- mandments; wealth and riches shall be in his house, and his righteousness endureth for ever.' " God said unto Solomon, ' Because thou hast asked wisdom and knowledge, that thou may est judge My people, over whom I have made thee king, wisdom and know- ledge is granted unto thee; and I will give thee riches and wealth and honor.' But when a man is not content, and goes about with but one aim, and that one to amass great wealth, he will necessarily fall into temptation, and his wealth will become to him a snare ; he will hunt after many foolish and sinful lusts, which will drown him in destruction and perdition. ' For the love of money is the root of all evil, which while some coveted after they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.' " " Besides, brother Buchanan," said Parson Blair, " we must not omit what the Lord intends to accomplish for His people Israel. ' Behold,' saith the Lord, ' I will send for many fishers, and they shall fish them; and after, I will send for many hunters, and they shall hunt them from every mountain and from every hill, and out of the iioles of the rocks, and I will bring them again into their land that I gave unto their fathers.' " How wonderful the prophecy, and how fully it has been accomplished, so far as their dispersion to the ends of the earth was foretold. ' Thou hast scattered us among the heathen.' 'For I am with thee, saith the Lord, to save thee; though I make a full end of all nations whither I have scattered thee, yet will I not make a full end of thee; but I will correct thee in measure, 264: THE TWO PARSONS. and will not leave thee altogether unpunished.' 'Who can stretch forth his hand against the Lord's anointed and be guiltless V ' Behold, I will bring them from the north country, and gather them from the coasts of the earth.' " May that great people, and all others, of every hue and clime, be able to say, as David said to Saul when he removed his spear from his bolster and spared his life : ' As thy life was much set by this day in mine eyes, so let my life be much set by in the eyes of the Lord, and let Him deliver me out of all tribulation. Amen.' " "Brother Buchanan," said Parson Blair, "are you as good at taking a hint as Dr. McCaw? I will quote one of Solomon's proverbs: 'The slothful man roasteth not that he took in hunting.' " "Pho3be," shouted Parson Buchanan, "is not the venison roasted yet?" " I thought I smelt it," said Parson Blair. They understood each other thoroughly, and so did Phcebe. In a few minutes she came to the door and said : " Mars John, dinner ready." There was a dinner for Saul himself — a hare stewed a la venison, broiled partridges basted with the finest fresh butter, a cold ham, sundry vegetables and suitable condi- ments. Phoebe placed a pitcher of fresh spring water on the table, and left the parsons to enjoy their bountiful repast. CHAPTER XVI. PARSON'S BLAIR'S FEMALE SEMINARY, IN a former chapter we have given a few scenes that occurred in Parson Blair's school for boys. He kept this school for a year or two after that time. Havino; been appointed principal in a female seminary, subse- quently established, he was, in addition to his parochial duties, devoting liis time and talents in training young ladies for the important duties of life. Our worthy Parsons often thought of each other, and Parson Buchanan, knowing how closely Parson Blair was occupied, would frequently look in at the seminary to see what progress the young ladies were making. Having a matter of moment to communicate, he came about eleven o'clock to the school, and as he walked into the room, pat- ted this young lady on the head, took that one by the hand, and had something kind to say to each as he passed. Coming up to the smallest girl, he slipped slyly into her hand a stick of peppermint candy, saying, " Hold fast what I give you." There was a short conference with Parson Blair, and the good Dominie said, " Miss Lnly Ingledon, I wish you to try your hand in hearing the French class while I am absent. I shall return in about jfifteen minutes. You are fully competent, and I shall rely upon you to keep order." This was a compliment, and the young lady came up immediately and thanked him for his kindness. "We must give our readers a' sketch of Miss Ingledon. She was a smart, sprightly girl, both in mind and man- 17 266 THE TWO PARSONS. nei's, with a bright, speaking eye. indicative of mischief, and a countenance that foreshadowed a warm heart, af- fectionate, but full of fun and good humor. Quite pretty, and just beginning to bud into womanhood, she was likely to play the very Dickens with youths who were coaxing their mustaches, brushing their hats and coats, and gal- lanting young ladies to church. She was one of the more advanced scholars, with a few ringlets adorning her face, and the Parson had devoted much time in preparing her for her dehtit. She possessed a fine memor}'', and liad a talent for mimicry. The Parsons went into an adjoining room for conference, leaving Parson Blair's cloak and hat hanging upon brack- ets in full view. His spectacles w^ere on his table, and his stick in the corner. The sight of these things put Luly in the notion of personating the Principal. She was a first-rate mimic, and had caught the voice, the solemn demeanor, and the very manner of the Parson. So robing herself in the overcoat, she buttoned it close to the chin, and folded her hair into the hat. Slie then placed the double spectacles on her nose, and taking the stick rapped it on the floor several times, throwing her- self back in the arm-cliair, and to the delight of tlie whole school, in the tones of the Parson, said, " The French ■class will come up for recitation. We will dispense with the text-books to-day, and take a running fire along the line. Miss Stockdale, do you see that blackboard against the wall ? " " Ves, sir,''"' said that young lady, tittering. " Well, Miss, you have been in the habit of making arith- metical calculations on that board, will you tell me what you call a ' blackboard ' in French ?" Miss Stockdale did not seem quite so amused, and began hemming and hawing, but she neither " growled nor grumbled." " I desire you to answer this question," said the teacher, PAKSON BLAIr's FEMALE SEMINARY. 267 with great gravity, placing her forefinger across her lips, and awaiting the answer. " That's not in my lesson," said the young lady. The girls laucrhed with ffreat o;lee. " I hope, young ladies, you will show proper respect to your teacher. I desire you. Miss, to play upon some other piano, and to use some other music-book than your own. Listen, I wish you to know something when you go from this school. ' Blackboard ' in English, is a com- pound word, formed of ' black ' and ' board.' Thus, I should say, ' black ' is ' dark,' dismal, like night. You, now getting a little moody, are ' blackbrowed.' Your hair is black, and I may say you have black eyebrows. ' Board ' is a piece of wood, of more length and breadth than thickness, and is made of plank. In French, this is a compound word too, composed of ' noire,' an adjective, signifying ' black ' — or as we say of a brunette, ' she is of rather a dark complexion ' — and ' planche ' is a sub- stantive, signifying a plank, a board, and, being feminine, we say, ' la planche no'ire^ — a blackboard. Now, don't forget this as long as you live." Then she said, " Why do you not applaud ?" Upon this the older girls clapped their hands and hurrahed, and the little ones danced. " I have another reason. Miss, for desiring to impress this word upon your memory. I have had a suspicion of late, when the arithmetical class was about to recite, that you had a fancy for rubbing a greasy rag over the board to prevent the chalk from marking. It is a very naughty trick. I hope you will not do so any more." This pro- duced an uproarious laugh, and Miss Stockdale rather archly joined in, while her face was suffused with blushes. " Young ladies, remember you must not tell tales out of school. Miss Stockdale is excused. " Miss Patsy Roe, will you do me the favor to tell me what is the French for ' blushing V " 268 THE TWO PARSONS. " ' Rougissant^ I believe," she replied. " Very well ! And this reminds me that blushing, which is a beautiful suffusion of the blood, forming a na- tural vermilion over the cheek, when caused by modesty, is also produced by shame or confusion. Eouge is a paint with which some ladies attempt to imitate nature ; but they are generally so unskilful, that even an unpractised eye can detect it." " I do not paint," said Miss Patsy, indignantly. "I did not charge it," said the teacher; "but merely spoke of the paint which some ladies use." The girls shouted and applauded. " If I have been unfortunate in my suggestion I regret it. Rouge, when an adjective, in French is red, rosy, scarlet; and when a person is charged accidentally with an olfen(;e which they have actually committed, the blood is very apt, unless it be a hardened sinner, to rush to the face and suffuse cheeks, forehead, and ears." This was the precise case at this time, with Miss Roe's face. " Now, young ladies, I wish you to understand that I do not approve of using rouge, carmine, saucers or pearl powders, and the like. The early riser, who, after hav- ing made her ablutions, takes the fresh air in the morn- ing and a rapid walk, will have roses in her cheeks, and vermilion lips, and be beautified far more than by all the rouffe in the world." " i^ow," said our mimic, taking off her hat. " I have delivered the counterpart of what Mr. Blair told me a few days ago, when I asked him privately what were the meanin2;s in French of these two words, 'blackboard' and 'blushing.' But, young ladies, as we have a few minutes left, I shall undertake here, in your names, to enter my protest against that monstrous ' anti-candy ' regulation, which I understand has been promulgated by the trustees of this academy, against which we have raised our voices. PAKSOJsr blair's female seminary. 269 I will do Mr. Blair the justice to say he was not the author of it. The idea that a young lady, who every- body says is a sweet creature, should for that reason be denied the right of adding to her sweetness, is preposterous. Why may we not go to the confectioners to purchase candy ? Should we not improve our minds, brighten our understandings and increase our wisdom, if we can ? May we not ' add to faith, virtue, and to virtue, knowledge V May we not ' add to godliness, brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kindness, charity ?' And why may we not, I pra}^, add sugar-candy to sweetness, icing to cake, mo- lasses to buckwheat cakes, and currant jelly to wild ducks and partridges?" The girls applauded with all their hearts. " I protest against this rule. It is arbitrary and against reason. If young ladies should become a little sour, is there any reason in the world why they may not tone down the sourness with a morceau of cream candy ? "Besides, we have had it dinged into our brains a thousand times that contentment brings happiness and peace. A contented mind is a continual feast. Is there any truer representative of contentment than to see a little girl sitting down on the floor with a molasses stick in her hands, sucking the large head, while the juice beautifully displays itself over the greater portion of her face ? What is more delightful than for a young lady, just turning out, to have her pockets full of the nicest bon-bons, which she has the pleasure of eating, as you would chinquapins and chestnuts, from morning until night. Even Parson Buchanan knows how to reach the heart with nice papers of sugar-candy." Extending her arm to its full length, she raised the hat from the table, and flourishing it over her head, shouted, "Hurrah for Parson Buchanan." At this moment the Parsons entered, and catching the oratrix in her climax, each made her a low bow, and Par- 270 THE TWO PAKSONS. son Buchanan thanked her for the applanse with which she had o-reeted his name. With hurry and confusion she immediately commenced discarding her borrowed phimes, and, bhishing, good hu- moredly retired to her seat; and the school quickly came to order. Parson Blair smilingly said : " Luly, I know you have been in mischief, but you cannot help it." Parson Buchanan, with a pleasant salutation, quietly retired. A short time after the scenes we have recorded, there was a public examination of the scholars of the academy at the end of the scholastic session. They were not in the habit in those days of giving young ladies diplomas as Bachelors or Masters of Art, thus preparing them to take the place of the sterner sex. They were fitted for more appropriate duties, and an ample arena was opened before them for the duties of life. They could give an appearance of neatness and comfort to everything around them, and make their homes pleasant retreats for their families and friends. They had no unuatural desire for the habiliments of men; for the occupations to which their strength was not adapted; for the exercise of the ballot, and the crowded contests of excited elections ; for the lower or higher offices of the State, the duties of which could not be discharged without a neglect of household matters, a disgraceful abandonment of children in their helplessness, and a disregard of all delicacy of feeling and sentiment. At the close of the session the teachers would give the most proficient a certificate of moral deportment and of high mental culture, and the heads of the classes had silver medals, to gratify their ambition and stimulate those who were to succeed them. Then there would be a feast of watermelons and canteloupes, in which all would indulge to their hearts' content. PARSON BI-AIr's FEMALE SEMINARY. 271 On the present occasion there had been a pubhc ex- amination of the scholars, in which the fair pupils liad acquitted themselves to the satisfaction of all the visitors and parents. It was a rule that the scholars should select as their representative the young lady deemed by them the most talented, amiable, and beloved, and they had with great unanimity selected our friend Miss Luly In- gledon. Both parsons thought the honor fully deserved, and were greatly gratified. Parson Buchanan had specially desired to send to the scholars, in addition to the melons furnished by Parson Blair, a present as a token of regard from himself; but by some mistake the articles he had ordered arrived too late, much to his mortification and to the loss of the scholars. After the school had been dismissed, and all had de- parted, the following note was addressed to him by Parson Blair, which explains itself : " To THE Rev. John Buchanan : " Dear Brother : "I send you back the present rare You had intended for the fair. My female pupils had dispersed, So plums and almonds are reversed. Yes, they're reversed, — I see you smile, But, sir, it's Jeffersonian style. Almonds that might regale a rector, And plums as sweet as any nectar; Candy, in its rich completeness. Adding sweets to lassies' sweetness. Leslie will send you bill of costs, See you the parcels be not lost ; And sure they need not, for, in truth, They can't hut please a parson's tooth. 272 THE TWO PARSONS. Or if tliej make too large a stock, Distribute them among your flock ; Or send to vendue, with condition To pay the auctioneer's commission. Or if at this your Rev'rence spurn. Then keep them till my girls return. Horace, you know, advised his master. Just that his boys might learn the faster, To srive them' now and then a cake, For love of them and learnino-'s sake. My pretty girls must learn still better. With plums to sweeten every letter. "J. D. B." We have mentioned only two of the young ladies who distinguished themselves at Parson Blair's Female Acad- emy, though many of them helped to adorn the society of Richmond in after years. We hope to be excused for going a little out of our way to mention another of those pupils, who, like Luly Ingledon, was a favorite both at school and in the society in which she afterwards moved. There are few in old or modern times more deserving of admiration and praise than was Miss Agnes S. B. Gamble, the daughter of Col. Robert Gamble, then living in the noted mansion on the hill known ever since as Gamble's Hill. She subsequently became the wife of Governor William H. Cabell, nephew of old Col. William Cabell, of Union Hill, who jnarried Margaret Jordan, sister of old Mrs. Winston. Governor Cabell was in office from 1805 to 1808. He was afterwards elected judge of the Supreme Court of Appeals, of Yirginia, and was eminently distinguished for incorruptibility as a judge, for suavity of manners, high talents, and a fair and honor- able career until the day of his death. We have been favored with a letter, written by Mrs. PARSON BLAIr's FEMALE SEMINARY. 273 Cabell to a friend, who was a merchant in New York, just after her husband had been elected Governor, which we feel justified in making public, as it gives a little in- sight into the style of furniture thought necessary for the Governor's house in those days, and the mode of supply- ing it. It shows, too, the taste and playful manner of our friend in selecting her bonnet, china and table-cloths. "Richmond, February ISth, 1806. "Dear Sir: "I take the liberty to request your attention to a few commissions wliich I wish to have executed. , "I know I need make no apology for the trouble to which I shall put you, since I am not acquainted with any person on wliom I could so well depend for the choice of the articles I need. " I will thank you to purchase for me the handsomest straw honnet you can meet with, after the spring fashions come in. As the ladies know more about these things, your choice may be assisted by some of the belles of your acquaintance. " You will be so good as to inform me if an elegant set of dessert china can be procured in Kew York. I wish it to be richly gilt, and adorned with some color and figure. "I think you saw my tea china. There is now in town for sale a dessert set that is figured just like it, viz.: a little green sprig, edges gold. It is handsome, but 7iot showy enough. Dr. Brockenborough has received this fall a very splendid set, the edges bordei-ed above an inch deep with pm-ple and gold, the centre ornamented in like manner; ground perfectly white. I should prefer mine to be differently figured, Ijut have no objection to its being equally elegant. "You know I have a set of dinner china; therefore 274 THE TWO PARSONS. am only in want of a dessert set. If you find you can- meet with such as you tliink I should be pleased with, I will thank you to give me a description of the figure ^ number of pieces, and cost of a complete set. You will find that the dishes of dessert china are not formed like those of dinner china; tliey are various — some square, some oval — like boats, grape leaves, &c. "I will also thank you to look out for two of the handsomest damask table-cloths the city can produce. They must be each large enough to cover a table sixteen feet long, four feet nine inches wide, and to hang over each end and each side at least a foot. " Your correspondents here will give you the town news. We have had a number of belles from different parts of the country this winter, who, while here, have made no little racket. Miss Ward is the only one of them likely to get a husband by the trip. She is to be married the first of next month to Peyton Randolph. Miss Edmonia Randolph is also, it is affirmed, to marry Thorn. Preston. The Misses Foushee have been verj quiet all the winter. I have not heard of their making any new conquests. And as for the rest of our town belles, I believe they are likely to remain unmolested the remainder of the season. " Mamma sends her love and best wishes for your health and happiness, in which she is joined by "Your sincere friend, "A. S. B. Cabell. ''Mr. John Tahh, New Yorl\'' Agnes Sarah Bell Cabell (we give the full name), and her sister, Mrs. William Wirt, were both pupils of Parson Blair, and the ladies Mrs. Cabell mentions were well known as belles in reality. We are greatly tempted to give our readers an outline PARSON BLAIr's FEMALE SEMINARY. 2Y5- sketch of their beauty, grace, elegance, and refinement. Tliey gave eclat to the society of Richmond for half a century. We will only mention two of them. Miss Isabella Foushee married Tliomas Ritchie, the " Napoleon of the Press," and her daughter, Mrs. Harri- son, of Lower Brandon, still dispenses the hospitalities of that elegant old mansion. Her sister, Charlotte, who bore off the palm of beauty undisputed in that day in all Virginia, married Williams Carter. CHAPTER XVII. PAKSON BUCHANAN'S MODE OF DISCHAllGING PAROCHIAL DUTIES.— THE COBBLER AND HIS SHOE. WE now call attention to Parson Buchanan, to his manner of performing parochial duties, visiting parishioners, dispensing blessings of consolation to the distressed, and bestowing charity upon all in need within his sphere. When he cannot perform these pleasing duties himself, he is ev^er enquiring for worthy objects of bounty, and stimulating the benevolent to bestow kindness in al- leviating the wants of others. It frequently happened in his intercourse with wealthy men of business, who were too much occupied to attend to such matters, that he would put in a kind word, not as if he came specially upon an errand for collecting money, but incidentally he would mention facts within his know- ledge which called for investigation. " You know, my friend," he would say, " how difficult it is for one person, single-handed, to aiford any great relief to those requir- ing assistance." On one occasion he was talking in a friendly way with old Mr. Wm. Gait, a Scotchman, who had made and was still amassine- a laroje fortune. He said he had often been struck with the fact that there were persons in middle life, who, from untoward circumstances, had fallen into poverty, -with whom the suifering was much greater than with those who were lower in the scale of society. These latter knew how to scuffle, had been enured to MODE OF DISCHARGING PAROCHIAL DUTIES. 277 work, and did not hesitate to beg when sorely pinched by- want. He alluded to a class who were educated, whose minds from culture were sensitive, who felt neglect keenly, could fancy coldness to them from old associates where no coldness was intended. He had in his mind people who had not the physical strength to work, did not know how to labor, having no previous training, and were accustomed to • better days — to comforts now denied. They had, day after day, seen their furniture gradually disappearing — pawned or sold for food. People wdio liad no income, living without even decent apparel ; keeping up appear- ances in a single room to conceal from the few fi-iends left the want that environed them ; too honest to do a mean action, and ashamed to l^eg, were those especially commended to his care. He said, while a single dollar would help them, which was more than people generally gave to ordinary beggars, yet it was too small and too soon gone to alleviate their sufferings. When hope had ceased, and the heart was sick from deferred expectations, then the mind suffered most keenly and the body wasted away. He knew cases like these, but some of them had the additional burden of two or three small children, coming, as children would do, at unseasonable hours to ask for bread, when there was no bread to give, and no money to buy it. He had known cases where ladies had gone to work and obtained one and sixpence a day ; left their little ones to shift for themselves, and worked with a needle on a long summer's day without a murmur. True, they received their own food ; but what was twenty-five cents to feed and clothe themselves and their children ? to purchase fuel and pay house -rent ? Those who had not felt it could not tell the wear and tear of mind and body of those who had to look it fairly in the face day and nisht. 278 THE TWO PARSONS. " I mention these things, Mr. Gralt," said he, " that you may, on some suitable occasion, make enquiry for your- self. They will not knock at your door and beg, but liberality will not be misplaced by giving to such as these." Mr. Gait said " he had not the time to make personal investigation, but he would make the Parson his al- moner." He went to his desk, opened his check-book, ^nd gave a check on the Bank of Virginia, for one liun- dred dollars, saying, " When you come across cases like those you have described, give it as may seem to you best." Wherever he went, he was the harbinger of good tid- ings, seldom using reproof, but with beaming smiles and soft tones, ever bringing words of love, and referring in gentlest manner to the truths of holy writ as the foun- tain and source of all happiness and blessing. He con- sidered the ills of life, the turmoil and strifes among con- nections, and the jarrings in family circles, as the shadows in the picture, tliat ought to be softened down by gen- erosity, kindness and love. Indeed, both of our good Parsons took real pleasure in trying to quiet family disturbances, and would so repre- sent matters as to compose and mollify ruffled tempers ; and thus bring about reconciliation and peace, where there would have been discord and open rupture. " Blessed are the peace makers, for they shall be called the children of God." How distressing it is to see brothers and sisters, parents xmd children, and worse still, husbands and wives, es- tranged from each other about petty differences, that seem continually to grow larger in proportions, and to be aggravated by the very relationship between them. How unenviable is the character of those who continually pass from one to the other, and carry backwards and for THE COBBLER AND HIS SHOE. 279 wards remarks stimulated at the moment by anger and passion, and induced by the exaggerated accounts of the tale-bearers themselves, who have mao-nilied the lano-uase and manner of those they are falsely representing. It was the delight of our good brothers to endeavor to counteract the evil effect produced by such characters. They would listen patiently to the grievances of both parties, and then showing them how trifling the real dif- ference l>etween them was, they would palliate harsh epithets, and excuse both. They would then condemn such estrangements as anti-christian, wanting in charity and brotherly love, and particularly censural>le in mem- bers of the church. Not unfrequently, by their disin- terested kindness, taking sides with neither, and in all things showing affectionate regard for both, they suc- ceeded in removing all obstacles to agreement, and brought the parties lovingly together. It was, after having heard of a bitter dispute between two brothers, in which both displayed Ijlind rage and re- sentment, the quarrel unfortunately resulting in the death of one of the disputants, that, without the slightest refer- ence to them or their controversy. Parson Blair wrote his versification of the " Tale of the Cobbler and his Shoe :" "A cobbler, blythe and debonair. Whose shop and song were all his care, Had an old shoe one day to mend. Which baffled both his awl and end. It was of such a curious cast He couldn't lit it to his last ; And as repeatedly he tried, Now turning this, then t'other side. And always finding something wrong. Fainter and fainter grew his song. At length quite mute the man became. 280 THE TWO PARSONS. Not knowing what or whom to blame, And, sullen, looked about to see 'Whatever could the matter be.' Then try'd once more, but all in vain, 'Twas just the same thing o'er again. The cobbler, being thus perplext, And at the shoe completely vext, Took aim against the harmless wall, And hurled the shoe and last and all; But as he threw without reflection, He missed, of course, the right direction, And threw them, by mishap, alas ! Directly through a pane of glass. A while in angry mood he sat. And by himself exclaimed, 'Take that.' He then went out to pick them up. And throw them by within his shop ; But in returning, as he drew Near to his shop, his anger grew; He told the shoe, ' As you're to blame. You shall go back the way you came.' He threw, but missed his aim again, — The shoe went through another pane. And further to increase his ire. He found he'd thrown it in the fire. Reader, in this you have a view What mischief a blind rage may do.*' The misfortune in all such matters is, that each partj charges the entire blame on the other, when nine times in ten each is equally at fault. Ladies particularly, we hate to say it, cannot — will not — refrain from giving the last word, forgetting the old adage, "The last tag is poison." If gentlemen do so too, be it so ; let them take it to heart likewise; we will not give advice and then THE COBBLER AND HIS SHOE. 281 present in our own persons an example of deviating from it. Where reconciliations are desiral)le, the fewest words said are the soonest mended. Parson Blair said : " He told the shoe, as you're to blame, you shall go back the way you came." But for this M'Ord shall, the matter might have been adjusted. "But what right has he to order me?" says the other. " In the first place, he knows he is to blame himself. If I do not choose to go back, he shall not make me. I will see him in — (Guinea, to put it mildly,) before I'll go that way, for him or anybody else." Of course he misses his aim — he has shown his anger ; it has done no good ; he has only made it worse. Then, to inci'case his ire, he has thrown the fat into the fire, and it has blazed up with uncjuenchable flame. The consequence is, neither will give up or relax in the slightest particular, though the difliculty is of less importance even than this little trifle. Each is too stout to yield one iota, and will not consent to make concessions for fear of admitting that he is to blame, but requires apologies from the other side. Parson Buchanan would say, " Now, my friend, this estrangement on both sides is easily composed. It is not necessary for either to make concessions. Write a kind note, and say you ask no concessions. There has been some misunderstanding, no doubt, but let it pass. We are brothers, (it may be neighbors,) let us forget and for- give, and come together in kindness and love." Hard must be the heart that will not soften and thaw after such an appeal. Sometimes it is true, as Solomon says, " A brother of- fended is harder to be won than a strong city, and their contentions are like the bars of a castle." But strong cities have been taken by stratagem, and the bars of many a castle have yielded to love. Tliere is no quotation in the Bible that was used by 18 282 THE TWO PAKSONS. Parson Buchanan of tener to his commanicants than, " If thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way ; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift." " Parson Buchanan," said sister Margrave, when he called to see her, " do you know that Brother Courtney has been endeavoring to induce Brother Thompson to quit your congregation, and join the Baptist Church ? And they do say that Brother Thompson is mean-spirited enough to do it. I have no opinion of such people, and less of their religion." " Let us," said the Parson, " reason the matter over without feeling or passion. If it be true, as you say, I see nothing wrong in it. In the first place, Brother Thompson is a man of mind and capacity, and is compe- tent to judge for himself what church he prefers. If he thinks he will be made a better man by the change, why should he not make it ? You cannot prevent it. Opposi- tion in such matters is certain to confirm the person in his determination. When you have lived as long as I have, you will find that the human mind cannot be con- trolled by coercion in religion. The Baptists have as many good people among them as there are in other churches, all things considered. Brother Courtney is a most estimable man, and will not lend himself to an im- proper or mean act. I shall be pleased to see his church thrive. If Brother Thompson, after investigation, prefers that denomination, why should he not join it? Suppose Brother Courtney should come to me and say, 'Brother Buchanan, I have ])een thinking over the matter, and I intend to join the Episcopal Church.' Would joii have me say, ' No, sir, you shall not ; it is a mean thing ' ? In either case, I think such an act ought not to be con- demned." MODE OF DISCHARGING PAROCHIAL DUTIES. 283 " But," said she, " they ought not to be underhandedly undermining you or your congregation. I despise the whole set." " I hope not," said Parson Buchanan. " What would you do with the Mahommedans, and all the other religions that God has permitted to exist in the world ? If they ap- ply to join our churches, must we slam the door in their faces ?" "Ah! but they are not Christian churches." " But the Baptist is a Christian church ; and though in one sense there is but one church, and all denominations of Christians belong to it, yet in common parlance there are many churches. We are all commanded to go forth and bring all outsiders into the fold, and these are at liberty to unite themselves to any denomination they may select. Toleration in religion is the only thing to bring about that consummation. Above all things, sister Mar- grave, let us have no contentions, nor strifes, nor envy- ings, but brotherly love, and charity for all denomina- tions." But Parson Buchanan was not satisfied with this en- deavor to calm the troubles that were brewing, and to allay this unnecessary excitement. He made it a point to call upon brother Courtney, and in a kind, frank man- ner, told him the circumstances as they had been re- counted to him ; assured him he did not participate in the ill-feeling excited by this sul)ject; that he conscientiously thought every man had an undoubted right to select the church which he believed would contribute most to his own edification. Brother Courtney had the undoubted right to welcome Brother Thompson to his fraternity. For his part he delighted in hearing of the success of all the churches, and would rejoice to welcome all Christians, no matter whence they came." This frankness and liberality gratified Brother Court- 284 THE TWO PARSONS. ney, and the two good men continued working in har- mony and friendship to the end of their days. There was a young married couple in liis congrega- tion, remarkably amiable and pleasant before marriage, who were surrounded with every comfort, but evidently becoming estranged from one another, and apparently without cause. He said to himself, such a case is really very much like monomania; easily cured if subjected to proper treatment in the incipient stages; but not to be re- stored to its normal condition when the mind becomes thoroughly diseased. So he called in the morning, under the expectation that the thoughts that were uppermost would be sure to be elicited during tlie conversation. He was ushered into the parlor, and ]:>efore taking his seat was looking at the old family portraits hanging in the room. In a few moments, Mrs. Smith, whom he admired for her youthful gayety, frank, open manners and kind heart; and who was, beyond doubt, one of the handsomest ladies of her day, came in, and received him in a most cordial and friendly manner. " Emily," said he, " I am so glad to see you looking so happy and cheerful tliis morning. You are as bright as a May morn." "Ah!" said she. "Mr. Buchanan, the face is not always the true index to the state of the mind. I mope and fret myself into a fever sometimes, and can't help it." " Oh ! but you ought not to do that. Take things by the smooth handle," said the good man. " Contentment is a first-rate recipe to cure the mopes, and fretting only adds fuel to the flame; the fretter irritates himself." "But, Mr. Buchanan, I will leave it to you. Don't 3^ou think I have enough to make one mope and fret ? Only look at this room ! My husband, possessed of ample means, has brought me to this fine old house, which, with MODE OF DISCHARGING PAROCHIAL DUTIES. 285 a little taste, might be made a mansion worthy of any- body's care or ambition. He wishes to keep everything in the style it was when Methuselali dwelt on the earth, and groans and sighs because I w^ant to sweep out the old rubbish and modernize the room. Now, just look at it ! I have no patience. Look at these old pictures." "I was just admiring their quaintness," said he. " Quaintness, indeed !" said she. " There hangs old Mr. Smith, and there the first Mrs. Smith and the second. Mrs. Smith ; and there is old Mr. Smith's pa, and old Mrs. Smith's ma. Did you ever see anything so prim, stiff and starched ?" Parson Buchanan saw that this was the pinch of the game. She had put her foot down, and there was no use to tell her it was a small matter. It had become life and death — a fight or a foot race. But she continued. " There's that first Mrs. Smith's first little baby, with its little fat hands and fat legs, and dumpy fingers and dumpy toes. I shall die if I am to be stuck up here all my life with all these dead people. What do I care about old Mr. Smith's grandpa, and the first Mrs. Smith and the second Mrs. Smith ? Now, dear Mr. Buchanan, just look here! Look at that old wax box on the mantle piece. Noah's ark! There's General Washington's old brass stirrup. My husband prizes that more than he does me. Rattlesnakes' rattles, Indian arrow-heads, old Admiral Noah's snuff-box, and Mrs. Noah's pin-cushion. Who cares for wax flowers when we can step into the garden or greenhouse and gather any variety of real beau- tiful flowers, far superior to any old Mrs. Smith could make? Who wants a dead humming-bird sticking on a wire, with his bill in a wax flower, and all as stiff as a poker, when she can see humming-birds, with green and gold, drinking real honey out of jessamine cups, and coming into the greenhouse, then, for variety's sake, 286 THE TWO PARSONS. flitting away in an instant? Noah might have taken the old box into the ark, to remind him of his flower garden before the flood. Wouldn't I give the world just to up- set the whole room — pitch the old wax box out of the window, stuff the pictures into the garret, and have an old-fashioned revolution. Now, dear Mr. Buchanan, do help me to persuade Mr. Smith to take the old wax box out. You do not know how it will contribute to my happiness. I do believe he would give up his life before he would let it be moved one inch and a half. Indeed , if it stays there much longer I shall go raving mad. Look at these old chairs. They can't be broken ! Would you believe it ? I tried the other day to have the legs sawed oif : one of them, to make it low enough for me to sit down in comfort, but it could not be done, because old Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith's pa, eighty years ago, had them made out of the best seasoned oak in the w^oods, and to make them stronger, actually bored holes in the legs and inserted iron rods the whole length, so that the carpenter, when he went to saw them off, broke out the teeth of the saw against the iron. And now I am obliged to sit here with my toes scarcely touching the floor. No wonder my friends And me moping and fretting. Now, dear Mr. Buchanan, do help me to persuade Mr. Smith." As she uttered the last sentence, Mr. Smith, who used to be one of the most cheerful, gay and happy men I ever saw, full of life and animation, walked . slowly into the room, with downcast looks and dejected mien; sighing deeply, he put down his hat and seated himself in an old arm chair, his young wife passing out at the opposite door. The Parson felt that this was not the happy man he once knew; that this was not the merry, light-hearted girl that once was the joy of the company in which she moved. That these two young people had made each MODE OF DISCHARGING PAROCHIAL DUTIES. 287 other miserable about little nothings, when they were sarrounded by every comfort, and when, by a little yield- ing to each other's tastes, or even whims and fancies, every- thing might have been smootli and fair l)etween them. He shook hands with Mr. Smith, and in a kind voice, said, " Well, Edward, I am delighted to see you and your pretty wife so comfortably fixed here in our neighbor- hood. How liappy you should both be." Scarcely raising his eyes, and sighing as if the thought would break his heart, he replied : " Ah ! Mr. Buchanan, I do not talk of these matters to everybody ; but you are discreet, and I have confidence in your judgment. You do not know what cause I have for moping and sighing. When I first became acquainted with Emily she was the sweetest tempered girl I ever saw ; she had the lightest, gayest heart, and her face was all smiles. She was kind to everybody ; went to the prayer-meetings, and taught in the Sunday-schools. Now she won't go near them ; pouts and frets, and won't put her foot inside of the church or the school-room. Here we have every comfort around us, and I would take so much pleasure in keeping up the old mansion just as my father and his father left it, and yet nothing pleases her. She wants to tui-n every- thing upside down. Even these old pictures — my vene- rable ancestors, whom I have been taught to revere — she turns lier nose up at each of them. Could you believe it? She says she will not live in this graveyard with these tombstones sitting up around her. Indeed, it is enough to run a man mad. Then she laughs at General Washington's stirrup, and I do believe in my soul, if she had her way, she would throw the wax box my grand- mother made out of the window. I have no doubt, be- fore you leave the house, she will implore you to beg me to hide that and the pictures in the garret." And he groaned in spirit. 288 THE TWO PARSONS. " Why not permit her to have her way ? " said Parson Buchanan. " Go up to her as yon did in old times, and say, ' Emily, my dear, you do not like these old pictures and sombre things in our parlor ; take them down, and hang them up in my study ; order up such furniture as you like, and make yourself cheerful. Your cheerfulness will make me cheerful, and we shall both be happy. Lock the wax box up. Fix the room to suit your own notion.' I doubt not she will turn the room upside down ; but never mind, let her display her own taste. The room will seem gay and cheerful to her ; she will be gay and cheerful to you ; her old feelings will gradually return ; and when she sees you are determined to make her happy, you both will be happy. I should not be surprised in a little while, when your special friends come to see you, if she should bring out the wax box and praise your grandmother's work as a specimen of rare art, and hunt up General Washington's stirrup as a precious relic, and say, ' I like to keep tliese things be- cause Mr. Smith pi'izes them so highly." Mr. Smith thought a moment, and then said : " Parson, I'll try it." CHAPTER XVIII. PAKSON BLAIR'S DINNER PARTY. PARSON BLAIR had partially recovered from the loss of his little boy, and his friends desired to cheer him up, and at tlie same time enjoy his agreeable com- pany. Parson Buchanan therefore started the Inill by sending the following note, which duly came to hand : " John Buchanan is coming to take his dinner to-mor- row^, nolens volens, with Brother Blair, and such friends as Brother Blair may invite. J. B. r To which tlie following answer was returned : " To Brother Buchanan : " Come on ; the sooner tlie better. ' Laughter,' they say, ' draws nails out of coffins.' We will have several taken out of ours. J. D. B." Then turning to his wife, he said, " Now, Mary, you'll have to stir your stumps^ " Stirring stumps won't make a dinner," quoth she. As she made this remark, old Paris entered with a box on his shoulder, which he placed on the floor. On the top was a card with these words, " Mr. Mutter hopes his Reverence, Mr. Blair, will accept the within." When 290 THE TWO PARSONS. the box was opened, it was found to contain a dozen bot- tles of choice old cogniac. John Mutter was an old friend of the Parson, and the father of Dr. Mutter, who subsequently was professor of surgery in the Jefferson Medical College of Philadelphia. The following reply was indited impromptu : " I wish I had a couplet handy, To thank that Mutter for his brandy. I can't conceive what he can find In me to render him so kind ; But kindness in his heart revolves. And this all difliculty solves. Without expecting to receive A quid pro quo, he loves to give. ]!^ot long ago, with same design, He sent a demijohn of wine, With whicli, when B. an hour would pass, We drank his health in sparkling glass; And noM', as still I find no lack, 1*11 do the same in Cogniac. Hence his good health he'll keep the longer. By reason that the brandy's stronger. " J. D. B." He determined to take Mr. Buchanan at his word, and invite Mr. Munford to meet him, and with the invitation to enclose a copy of the foregoing, as he said, "to let him see in part what he had to expect." Mr. Munford added this emendation, to be sent to Mr, Mutter : " Then come to-morrow ; we will taste it, Sip it, smell it — never waste it ; At halfpast two we'll draw the cork, Por want of corkscrew, with a fork." PAKSON BLAIr's DLNNER PARTY. 291 And liere is tlie easj-fiowing invitation to friend Mim- f ord : "Dear Sir: "If you will come to-day to dinner, On turkey, with good stuffing in her, And bring your pretty Sally, too, By three o'clock, or rather two. We'll gladly entertain your suite, And give you many thanks to boot. Excuse, I pray, this, petit chose, I have not time to write in prose. "J. D. B." Answer : " I've hardly time to write in verse, Since now-a-days my rhymes are terse, Yet let me say, as I'm a sinner, I've still an appetite for dinner ; And in your house we always find Food for the body and the mind. "W. M." ISTote on the above by J. D. Blair : " This answer is a rich repast. And shows that I wrote prose at last. 'Twas all hap-hazard, hit or miss; But Phcebus' self indited this. There's in the true poetic vein Something that I could ne'er attain ; And if the muse don't serve me better Next time I go to write a letter, I am determined I will prose it, Nor do I care how soon she know^s it. The jilting, laughter-making wench. 292 THE TWO PAKSONS. Set me a blundering too in French; And as a sample of her cheat Made me write petit for petite ! And tlien she whispered in my ear In my own skin henceforth t'appear ; Quoting the maxim with a slam, ' Ne sutor ultra crepidam.'' Well, from this time I say farewell ; But, first for spite, the truth I'll tell : Not one, I say, of all the nine, Nor Phcsbus' self, is quite Divine. "J. D. B." "It happened, whether by concert with Parson Buch- anan or not we are not able to say, but on the next morning Mr. Thos. Rutherfoord sent old Joe, his carriage driver, with one of the nicest legs of nnitton that the market afforded, accompanied with this note: "Rev. J. D. Blair: "Tell Mrs. Blair to cook it to-day with caper sauce, and I'll come and help you eat it. We will worry it down with something, I venture to affirm. T. R." Answer. "Dear Sir: "I had just told Mrs. Blair 'to stir her stumps for dinner,' and she had said 'she had no stumps to stir.' Now, Brother Buchanan has sent her a turkey, and he is coming to eat that; and you a leg of mutton, and Mutter has sent me some cogniac, and he is coming to uncork that. I think we will be able to worry them down. " You know when I sent my runlet to you to fill, Kin- caid said we had better fill it with water. If you think PARSON BLAIr's DINNER PARTY. 293 SO, we will lock up the cogniac and send down to the spring. Mr. Munford is also coming to dine with us» Mrs. Blair thinks the stumps will stir now. "J. D. B." It is a remark often made, " that it never rains bnt it pours," and the application is frequently made to the affairs of life, and not unfrequently with great force and truth. So it was on the present occasion. Present after present came in rapid succession to Parson Blair. After breakfast a cart was driven to the door, and the driver handed in the following note : " John J. Werth begs leave to present his most affec- tionate regards to Mr. and Mrs. Blair, with sincere wishes^ for their health and happiness through many seasons yet to come, and begs their kind acceptance of a New- Year's cake, in a barrel of family flour." The good man sat down with overflowing heart, and immediately returned the following answer : " I thank you for your New-Year's cake. Which came in welcome hour, And hope that of it you'll partake Whenever in your power. "Pve often found just such a friend. Who proves a friend indeed ; Such, a kind Providence shall send In every time of need. "And still on Tliin my hopes rely. That He my friends will bless, And all my little wants supply, And all my wrongs redress. 294 THE TWO PARSONS. "I say to such as wish me ill, Perhaps I've been to blame; I feel their enmity, but still My love is all the same." Just before the arrival of the expected guests, as Par- son Blair was making his preliminary preparations, he saw his wife engaged in an occupation that gave him a ludicrous thought. Without appearing to notice it, he treasured it up in his mind for future use. For her dessert, sister Rutherfoord had sent her a large bowl of calf's-foot jelly, and sister Adams two shapes of blanc-mange ; one, representing a nest, full of eggs ; the other, a dove brooding on its nest. She had made a beautiful cake from some of friend Werth's family flour (Gallego's best) ; and had prepared a potato pudding, which had been cooked very brown and beau- tifid, but when the cook attempted to take the lid from the oven, it slipped from her hands, and the edge, falling upon the pudding, had not only deeply indented one side, but had filled it with ashes and embers. The good wife, as most ladies would have been, was in what they call *' a peck of troubles." It was too late to cook another, and the whole unity of her arrangements would have been ruined without this head dish. She bemoaned it for some time, fretted at the cook, sat down with her fingers interlaced on her lap, and looked the picture of woe. Then suddenly a new thought seemed to strike her. She had at breakfast a pan of egg-bread, the same size as that in which the pudding had been baked. She cut a tri- angular slice from the pudding where it was defaced, and then, taking its exact dimensions, cut a similar slice from the egg-bread, and fitted it with great nicety. She placed a pin in the centre of the slice that she might find it, and covered the whole with a thin layer of icing. It was as PAKSON BL air's DINNER PARTY. 295 pretty a disb as need grace any dessert. She breathed freer, and looked composed and self-approving. Her sister, Mrs. Radford, sent her by her daughter, Mrs. Munford, a basket of luscious oranges. The company arrived, and a merry greeting they had. No formality or stiffness ; there "svas an ease that said un- mistakably, " We are at home." " Mutter," said Mr. Eutherfoord, " I am like the giant in the story of ' Jack the Giant Killer,' ' Fee, faw, f um ! I smell the blood of an Englishman.' I smell the fumes of the old cogniac, as sure as you are born." " Mr. Munford rejoined, " I take it for grante4 it is all ready on the sideboard." " We'll be moderate," said Parson Buchanan, with a gleeful face. The host took the silver ladle, and, stirring it round, helped each to a moderate share of first-rate toddy, made from the old cogniac, w^ith a slight dash of madeira. We have given you a bill of fare, and you know whence the materials came. We do not, of course, intend to enter into a description of the dinner in all its details. When all was ready. Parson Blair, raising his right-hand, said, " Our heavenly Father, Thou hast showered upon us these bounties. We thank thee from our hearts. Forgive us our sins, and continue Thy blessings. We ask all in the name of Thy Son. Amen." The sisters were enquired after, and the bairns, and they spoke of this friend and that, and cracked jokes and spun yarns. Then Parson Blair said he had told his wife " to stir her stumps in preparing the dinner for his friends, and with a woe-begone face she said, ' Stirring stumps didn't make dinners.' " Upon which she replied, " There are no stumps here." " No," said he, " God has given us more than stumps. Did I not tell you we would be provided for ? 'Are not 296 THE TWO PARSONS. five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God.' " " How beautifnl is that other text," said Parson Buch- anan, " ' Why take ye thought for raiment ? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow ; they toil not, neither do they spin ; and yet I say unto you, that even Solo- mon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.' Brother Blair, you have a practical illustration of the text. I saw you a short time since with a hat rather the worse for wear, and I thought 1 would send you one ; but next day 1 knew you received one from a good friend, for he gave me a copy of yonr reply. I will read it for the benefit of our friends. Response to Col. Adams fok His Present of a Hat. " On my return on Monday night Prom Hanover, in freezing plight, I had a present, I was told. And then I thought no more of cold ; But what it was I had to gness: 'Stockings,' said I, 'nor more nor less.' ' It is to wear, but yet, not that.' ' Oh, then,' said I, ' it is a hat.' " It's one of Col. Adams' jokes, Who plies with presents preaching folks, And never leaves them in the lurch, Although he seldom goes to church; And yet a sermon he will heed, Nor will he see the Parson need, Butf to be grateful to my friends, I'll make him, in my way, amends. " I'll preach hira, if he'll come to hear it,. A sermon, hour-long, or near it; PARSON BLAIe's DINNER PARTY. 297 'P'^oh;' said mj wife, famed for advising, 'He does not want your sermonizing; Take my advice, and just rehearse His kindness in your kind of verse.' ' Well, well,' said I, but thought it wrong, ' I'll pay the colonel with a song !' " " I think, brother, I came off much better than our friend, Mr. Munford, who went the other day to dine with a number of citizens at Mitchell's Spring, wdiere somebody stole his elearant new beaver. It was said to have been advertised in these words : "The other day while at my dinner At Mitchell's Spring, some thievish sinner, Well versed in tricks, the like o' that. Purloined my new $10 hat." "Yes," said Mr. Munford, "that's Mr. Blair's version of the matter. I lost the hat, but being one of the lilies that Solomon could not vie with, the Almighty enabled me to provide myself with another." And so they went on cracking jokes upon each other, and drawing nails out of coffins by hearty laughter. When the meats were removed, and Mrs. Blair had set her dessert out, and everything looked nice and inviting, and all had taken a glass of Matter's old maderia, the good brother, mindful of the occupation in which he had seen his wife engaged before dinner, said : " Brother Buch- anan, you have always agreed with me, that my wife was the most notal^le housekeepeer in the world. She beats the gude wife of auld Rabbie Burns; for that gude wife 'gars auld claithes look amaist as weel's the new;' but my wife not only mends old clothes and china and glass- ware, but is a first-rate hand at mending broken puddings." " Now, Mr. Blair !" cried the wife. 10 298 THE TWO PAKSONS. "Would you believe it?" continued parson Blair, " the pudding before her is a patched pudding ! Cousin Sally,"' said he to Mrs. Munford, " now look close, and you will see a pin's head protruding. That's the part tliat is patched. There is not a crack in it you see. My dear," he said, " please give me the piece with the pin in it. I have taken a great fancy for that piece." So, understanding his humor perfectly well, she cut out the egg-bread slice and sent it to him, remarking, in per- fect good humor, " Now, for your smartness, you are en- titled to that slice, and the icing will make it palatable, the rest we will share witli our friends." "Well, well, well! dear, dear! I think I've got the worst of the bargain by that move." But the pleasantry produced, as was intended, a heart}'' laugh, and all went on smoothly again. In cutting one of the oranges, Mr. Mutter's knife slipped, and he slightly cut his iinger, when Parson Buch- anan said: "I am reminded, brother Blair, of a story I read a few days ago about a Frenchman and a barber. The Frenchman, a lean, lank, cadaverous fellow, entered the barber's shop to be shaved, and, having lost his side teeth, his cheeks were so sunken that the barber was obliged to insert his iinger in the Frenchman's mouth, and press out the cheek to enable him to get at the beard. While the operation was going on, the Frenchman sud- denly sprang from the seat : ' Mestaire, you cut ze cheek tlirough and through. Is dat ze way you shave ze gentle- mens, by gar?' " The barber, holding up his own bleeding linger, said : ^Your vile lantern-jaws have made me cut my iinger to the bone.' " ' You cut ze cheek, and zen you cut ze lingair, by gar ; and you call zat ze clean shave, hey ? Suppose you cut ze throat !" PARSON BLAIe's DINNER PARTV. 299 "Dear, dear!" said Parson Blair. "The idea of blam- ing the Frenchman's jaws for cutting his own finger through them ; and lantern-jaws — so thin joii might see through them !" . So they went on, and when all were satisfied they passed into the parlor to prolong their pleasantries. "The last time I dined with Mr. Munford," said the Parson, "my terrier and Mr. Munford's cat had a terrific fight, and we have had a correspondence about it; or rather, I wrote a note to the cat, and she answered it, and, as this is an occurrence that does not often happen, I will read it for the benefit of our friends. I rather suspect Mr. Munford held the cat's paw when she wi'ote ; but this is a matter not proven." Note from J. D. B. to Grimalkin. A generous dog and spiteful cat, (A demo, this and federal that,) Happened the other day to meet At pussy's house, on Munford street. When instantl}^, as it appears, They got together by the ears. The dog, with neighborly intent. To pay a civil visit went ; But scarcely had he entered in, 'Till puss began to vent her spleen ; She spat and sputter'd, like a fiend. And put up every hair on end, Then sprang as if she was possesst. With teeth and claws upon her guest. The dog, as any creature would, Then made the best defence he could ; And in return gave such a bite To puss as made her squall outright. 'Twas thought the battle now was done. 300 THE TWO P ARSONS. As puss was glad to turn and run; But as the dog was going home, Puss sallied from anotlier room, And gave- him such a scratch behind. Where pussy knew the dog was blind, As made him hasten his retreat. And sent hmi velping through the street. This last assault was underhanded, For which puss should be reprimanded, But then we're not surprised at that, For pussy was a Deinocrat ; At any rate, the cunning mouser Got the last blow at little " Towzer." Answer. With more respect than needs repeating, Puss to his Reverence sends greeting ; • She thanks him for his pretty story. And for his saying she's no Tory. She owns herself a Democrat, And pray, sir, where's the harm of that ? She serves her country and her friend. Suppressing vermin that offend, Such as your Federal rats, who eat What's not their own, but other's meat ; And as for stratagems of war, 'Tis what she's oft occasion for. To save her life and catch her prey. And keep her numerous foes away ; But one thing, sir, she must deny, She did not squall, and scorned to fly ; Indeed (for truth is lier delight,) She fairly put the dog to flight, Who, being Federal, could not hite. W. M, PARSON BLAIe's DmNER PARTY. 301 Rejoinder. To Grimalkin, by the Rev. J. I). B. We're told, 'though not exactly when, That beasts could once converse like men, And J5sop gives us a narration Of many a beastly conversation. They met in council, it is stated. And sagely />rc> and con debated. Especially when 'twas the question, Who was best fitted foi- the " gestion " Of their concerns in peace and war. By wisdom, or the " ruses de guerre /" But yet, I thought 'twas all a joke. And that 'twas J^sop's self who spoke, Till ruminating o'er the matter, I found that monkeys still could chatter; Some quadrupeds on two can walk. And parrots, we all know, can talk; And it appears in black and white, That even now a cat can write, Unless she called in foreign aid. And did whatever she was made ; For who could think that e'en a cat "Would own herself a Democrat ? But if 'twas you that wrote indeed, I take for granted you can read. Accordingly I send you these To con them over at your ease; For I'd not have you miss your prey, Should a sleek mouse fall in your way. I may be wrong, but yet I thought, In the late battle which you fought, That I heard something like a squalling Which some, perhaps, call caterwauling; And you'll acknowledge after all, 302 THE TWO PARSONS. That if she will, a cat can squall. And as for running, I av^er, I saw yonr tail turn'd towards the cur ; But afterwards you faced about. And fairly scratched poor Towzer out. His handling, to be sure, was rough, But you were conqu'ror, that's enough, ^sop informs us once, that pug Gave a poor cat a gallic hug ; For as he had a great desire For chestnuts roasting in the fire ; When they were done, he cast about To see which way to get them out. And, contrary to every law, The cunning rogue took puss's paw; And tho' he knew it would provoke her. He used it as he would a poker, And one by one the fellow rolls The chestnuts from the burning coals. A cat's-paw ever since it's called: But then, I guess, poor pussy squall'd." On such occasions, nothing seemed to gratify Parson Blair more than to run a pleasant rig upon " Cousin Mun- ford," as he called him. The good man had fallen into this habit because his wife always called Mrs. Munford cousin, though she was in truth her niece. There was something so unsuspecting and kind in Mr. Munford's manner that the Parson was induced to believe he was easily imposed on by those who were keen at a bargain. Whenever, therefore, he could hear of any incident which called forth this trait in his character, it was his delight to make some ludicrous allusion to it. Mr. Rutherfoord had told him that on one occasion he was paying an evening call at Mr. Munford's. Sitting PARSON BLAIr's DINNER PARTY. 303 in the porch just about dusk, a countryman came by, cry- ing " Chickens, butter, eggs and vegetables." Mr. Mun- ford looked at the chickens, found them a shilling apiece, and told the man to take six of them to the back yard, giving him a dollar. When he had gone, he found only five had been left. This was a nut for Parson Blair which he did not fail to crack. He made Mr. Rutherfoord tell tJie incident again, which he did, with some emendations, making it as laughable as possible. Parson Blair said there had been a correspondence upon the subject, and as it was in the Sc;otch dialect, he would read it for the sake of brother Buchanan and Mr. Ruther- foord. "I've heard as how some country chiel, Wha broui^ht ve chickens in a creel, Play'd 3^e a pi-ank; Accustomed likely to such tricks, He sold vou five instead of six, J^eaving a " Pha?bus ayont the western hills Had just retired, and at his heels Twilight succeeded. What time the people hae their e'en, Things are but indistinctly seen. And no much heeded. "But tent me, Creif. this dousie joke, He wha kens Littleton on Coke, And Blackstone to it; He wha kens a' the beuks' report. And a' the usages o' court. He'll mak' vou rue it. 304 THE TWO PARSONS. "P. S. — Bat hold, since penning the abune, I learn the thing was righted soon, Just upon sight : The honest man, still unco willin' To do what's just, paid back a shillin', Sae a' was right." Mr. Munford, gratified to find that this little incident had afforded the Parson amusement, and had called forth the outpouring of his muse, sent in return a note, imitat- ing his Scotch, and showing his kind regard. " Pve read your lines of Scottish verse. As if your mither tongue were erse, Sae daft ye spell 'em ; Not tuneful Rabble's sel', nor Allan, The flower of highlan' bards and lawlan', Could e'er excel 'em. *' Yet since ye're not a man o' law, As 'tis my trade, I'll point a flaw That's in vour datfln' : Auld Littleton ne'er wrote on Coke : Ye read them backwards for the joke, Sae fond o' lauirhin' ! "& " But for a man who never leuks In ony but in goodly beuks, 'Twas weel eneugh. Law beuks ye dinna ken nor spier, But leave to those who toil for gear, In war Idly sugh. " 'Tis yours to form the youthful mind To virtue's bent to be inclined, And lessons teach, PARSON BLAIk's DINNER PARTY. 305 Derived from God's most holj bairn, Whence a' divine instruction learn Wha hear ye preach. " Hence comes your gaiety of heart And canty rhymes ye can impart, Baith douce and funnie. Could I thy pattern copy weel, I wad be sure a sonsie chiel', And unco bonnie. " Aiblins I might, if ye'd come hither. And aftener let us chat thegither. Nor rin away, As soothly, I must say, last night Ye did, ' as if 'twere out o' spite,' And wadna stay. " W. M." As we have said, Parson Blair was one of those men who must have ^he last blow in merriment or kindly com- pliment, so he returned the following ^^ rejoinder''\- " 'Tis unco strange, in my opinion, A native o' the ' Old Dominion,' Should just take up a Scottish pinion. And soar right off ; But poets, nature's fondest pride. Are by hersel' wi' wings supplied. Just ready iix'd on ilka side : That's plain eneugh. " ' Babbie ' and ye may weel shake ban', And a' the bards »' Scotia's Ian', For near o' kin ye surely maun Be to each ither. 306 THE TWO PARSONS. Ye represent them a' by turns, But when ye choose your brither Burns, The nicest critic scarce discerns The ane frae ither. " Prentis affirmed ' no Democrat Was e'er a bard ' — or like o' that ; But je, ye bring it in as pat As Burns or Pope. Soon as ye dip your pen in ink, Wi' utmost ease ye mak' it clink ; At core, ye maun be Fed., I think. At least wad hope. " Now, as to ' Littleton on Coke,' My error thankfu' I revoke, But must confess it was nae joke. In honest sooth ; For weel content just wi' the clink o't. Wrong as it was at the tirst blink o't, Yet at the bit I didna think o't, — That's just the truth. "J. D. B." Wlienever they had a pass at each other of this sort,, it was natural they should desire to laugh over it when they fell into company together ; and so now, when they were all enjoying themselves, such a specimen as this could not be hid. " Sister Blair," said Parson Buchanan, " I regret ex- ceedingly that my little Pet is not at home to-day." " So do I," she replied, "for I know she will be sadly disappointed when she learns that our friends have all been here in her absence. She has been down at ' Pow- hatan ' on a visit for a few days." PARSON BLAIk's DINNER PARTY. 807 " Ah ! " said he, " there may be something in the rumor that's floating about, then. 'Powhatan' is the seat of the May OS." And he gave a knowing wink. "Tell her, when she returns, that the good woman, Mrs. Brown, whom she visited with me, after lingering mucli longer than could be supposed, has been gathered to her fathers. Everything was done for her that she desired. God has raised up friends for her children. Mr. and Mrs. Mun- ford have taken the little boys to live with them, and we all know they wilj. not only take care of them, but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." Upon which Mrs. Munford said : " But, Mr. Buchanan, we were actuated a great deal by a sense of gratitude to Mrs. Brown." " Yes," said Mr. Munford, " when one of our babies was born, Sally was very ill, and Mrs. Brown, being in the neighborhood, heard of her illness and volmiteered to nurse the child, refusing to receive compensation when her services were no longer required. We are trying to make some return now for her kindness. We did not hear of her illness and suffering until she was near her end." "And so in converse, grave and gay. They passed tlie pleasant hours away." CHAPTER XIX. THE IMPOSITION UPON PARSON BUCHANAN, AND HOW HE TURNED IT TO ADVANTAGE. PARSONS are not exempt from the deceptions to which other men are subject. From their unsus- picious dispositions and charitable feelings, they are fre- quently induced not to scrutinize the conduct of others very closely, or judge their fellow men harshly. They tire less inclined to imagine evil of others, and are there- fore more liable to become the dupes of the harpies who prey upon the credulity of society and pick our pockets, under the garb of a smooth personal extei'ior and a plausible address. They are frequently, therefore, the subjects of gross imposition. Now, we have seen that Parson Buclianan was a con- firmed old bachelor; had no idea, really, of courting any lady, though he took great pleasure in pretending to be looking out for a helpmate. He professed a great hanker- ing for some lively young widow, whose warm heart was just recovering from the loss of her companion, "which," as he said, "showed itself by the exhibition of a little white ribbon, flower, or other insignia, which ladies par- ticularly discerned at a glance, and which keen-visioned gentlemen might readily discover." He was boarding with a most respectable old lady, but had an oflice, consisting of two apartments, down on the .street leading to Mayo's bridge, where his theological library was kept, and where he prepared his sermons. One day, while busily engaged in this engrossing occu- IMPOSITION UPON PARSON BUCHANAN. 309 pation, there was a knock at liis door. Answering the knock, he ushered into the room a delicate, slender young gentleman, with a rather feminine voice, dressed in clothes suitable to a preacher, but with uncommonly small hands and feet, the former unusually soft. After being motioned to a chair, and selecting a seat on the sofa, he took from the breast pocket of his coat a small memorandum book, be- tween the leaves of wliich was a letter, which he handed to the Parson. It was addressed to the "Rev. John Buchanan, Rich- mond," and purported to come from two well known ministers of the Episcopal Church in the city of Boston. It stated that the "Rev. Peter Smith," who was the bearer of the letter, was a highlv talented and well ac- credited minister of the Episcopal Church, lately ordained, was of limited means and of delicate constitution, and threatened with consumption. He had been advised by his physician to travel through the Southern States for his health. He was of estimable character and well con- nected in Massachusetts, and any assistance given him in money would be worthily bestowed, and upon his res- toration to his friends promptly returned. Upon reading the letter. Parson Buchanan remarked " that he had not the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with the writers, though he knew them by reputation." Mr. Smith said " they were two of the best men in the State of Massachusetts, that they preached to very large congregations, and were highly esteemed for learning and piety." " How lono; have vou been in the ministry ? You seem to be very young." "Yes," said he, "but I am older than I appear to be; and I have been preaching nearly five years. My health failing, I have gradually declined, until you see I have a hectic flush in my cheeks; and then," (suddenly cough- 310 THE TWO PARSONS. ing violently,) "you perceive, sir, I am afflicted with a severe cold that has affected my lungs, and once or twice caused severe hemorrhage. The other day I was taken sick in Baltimore, and was detained so long by the attack that my funds have run very low, and I am unable to proceed to my destination. I would not have presented the letter of credit which you hold, but from necessity, and I certainly expect to return any advance yon may make as soon as my remittances arrive." Here another lit of coughing nearly took away his breath, and he re- <}lined on the sofa apparently in extreme exhaustion. Parson Buchanan went to him, asking sympathizingly if he could do anything to alleviate his cough. "Nothing," lie said, but "just to assist him to rise, and as the Parson offered his hand, Mr. Smith took it with a gentle pressure, and said he would thank him for a glass of water, and resumed his former position." Our parson, being in eas}^ cii'cumstances, felt no hesita- tion in giving him a small amount of money, soliloquizing as he gave it, "If we do not assist others, how can we ex- pect God to assist us in our need ; and moreover, ' the end of the commandment is charity.' " He took from his pocket-book a five dollar note, and gave it cheerfully to the young brother. This was really all that he had about him. The young gentleman, blushing deeply, accepted the note, but rather showed by his manner that he was dis- a'^pointed in the amount. Parson Buchanan, interpret- ino- the blush as indicating his disappointment, said, " this is all the money I have to-day, but as, under the circumstances, it will not aid you materially in your journey, and I have authority to draw upon the treasurer of the Amicable Society of Richmond for small sums, to relieve the pressing necessities of the worthy, I will o-ive you a check for an additional amount of twenty IMPOSITION UPON PARSON BUCHANAN. 311 dollars, which you can return to the society when your remittances arrive." This society had existed nearly twenty years, having for its benevolent object the relief of strangers and way- farers in distress. At this time Parson Buchanan w^as president of the society, and continued such for many years, managing its affairs with great prudence, and dis- pensing its charities with numberless blessings on the un- fortunate. While the old gentleman was writing the check, the young man remarked: "My two friends, the parsons in Boston, bade me enquire particularly whether you were still a bachelor, saying that in former days you were always pleasantly and jocularly enquiring for young widows, and they hoped you had obtained one to your taste." " No," said the lively old gentleman, " not yet ; I am still looking out, but fear, among so many worthy ones, either I or they have been a little hard to please." He then handed him the check. The newly -ordained min- ister thankfully received it, saying : " I think I can show you a young widow that would have you at the drop of your hat." " That's rather too quick on trigger," said Parson Buchanan. '"'"'' Fest'ina leiite'' is my motto in such mat- ters." Thereupon the young minister fell into another ex- hausting tit of coughing, and promising to call again, to accompany the Parson to church on the next Sabbath bowed himself reluctantly away. It so happened that as Parson Smith went out of tlie door, our friend Dr. McCaw entered. He lived in Par- son Blair's neighborhood, was very blunt and free spoken and from his constant association with the Parsons, not ■only admired them most highly, but could take the liberty 312 THE TWO PARSONS. of bantering and joking them pretty much at pleasure^ As he entered, he said : " Why, Parson ! Is it possible I Have you, too, been imposed on? Do you know that this is a woman dressed in man's clothes ? I never should have thouo-ht that such an old bird could be caught with chaff ! What is the world coming to ? " Then seeing that the good man from his manner took it rather seri- ously, he changed his tone and laughingly said : " Well I that you should have been taken in by such an impostor ! I take it for granted she came to get money, and I know she got it. Why, I have heard of her in several places this morning, and I should not be surprised if she has taken in Parson Blair, too. You parsons need a guardian. Did you not notice her feet? Didn't she give you her little, tender hand ? Didn't you notice her hair, cut short, but soft, silky, and inclined to curl ? " "No," said the Parson, "I did not; but I did think, McCaw, he squeezed my hand rather tenderl3^" ^^He squeezed, did he ? A man with a bust like that I A man with a waist like that! He is a she; that's the amount of it." "McCaw," said the good man, "that w^as the Rev. Peter Smith, from Boston, an Episcopal clergyman, who brought me proper credentials vouching for his character and standing." " The Rev. Peter Fiddlesticks ! " said the Doctor. " No more a clergyman than I am. And you took a forged letter for genuine ! She is a notorious cheat, a swindler. If you can't tell a woman from a man better than that, you had better put on a double pair of spectacles next time. A baby would have known better." The Doctor being so positive, and the Parson begin- ning to think he had been imposed on, took his hat and cane, and said, " I will go and stop the payment of the check." IMPOSITION UPON PARSON BUCHANAN. 313 The Doctor said, " I'll go with you and enjoy the fun." They had not gone very far when they met Parson Blair coming down tlie street. "Whicli w^ay?" says the Doctor. "I was just on my way to see Brother Buchanan, knowing his admiration of widows, to put him on his guard about a Mrs. Peter Smith, a handsome young widow, who is dressed in men's clothing, representing herself as an Episcopal preacher, and who I lieard had a letter for him. She is discovered to be an impostor. Have you seen her?" "I have," said Parson Buchanan very gravely, "I am on my way now to stop the payment of a check I drew in her favor on the treasurer of the Amicable Society." Parson Blair, from Parson Buchanan's manner, soon saw it was a serious matter in his estimation ; but he set his triggers and baited his trap to give him time to cool; knowing that few men like the idea of being imposed on, and not many to be the subject of playful ridicule, so he began to sympathize with his friend; but he could not help suggesting how much more distressing it would have been if it had been himself instead of his friend. Said Parson Buchanan, " that's the way of the world ;" and smiling, he added, "come along, let's stop the pay- ment of the check." "Good-bye, Parson," said Dr. McCaw, "take care of yourself, or the widow will give you another pressure of the hand." Says Parson Blair, "What's that? Well! well! Dear me ! You surely ought to have another pair of spec- tacles, to enable you to distinguish between a man and a woman. It would give you the ' second sight.' " They went on their way, but arrived live minutes too late to stop the payment of the check, and the Parson 20 314: THE TWO PARSONS. returned to his office, grieving over the wickedness of this evil world. After a few days had passed, and his best friends had run their pleasant riggs upon him in a way to show it was all kindly meant, and Parson Blair knew that all feeling had been obliterated, and his usual equanimity and good humor established, he wrote the following soliloquy to Parson Buchanan, advising him to commit it to memory, and while slowly pacing across his room to speak it in his most approved manner aloud to himself, as a'pleasant pastime : " It's very hard that I should fear" The mortifying jest and jeer Of every one I meet in town, Whether across, or up, or down, Because Miss Smith, whose was the sin. By her palaver took me in ; I gave her a five dollar note, (I wish 'twas down the huzzy's throat,) To satisfy her present need. And prove myself ' a friend indeed.' It can in sooth be said by no man, That I could tell it was a woman ; But every body must believe I knew her not from mother Eve ; She was well dressed, in Parson's clothes, And hence the whole mistake arose. Besides all this, which is much worse, (I fume, but parsons must not curse,) Upon the Amicable store, I gave a check for twenty more; Which made — (I hope she'll never thrive), — The full amount of live times five." IMPOSITION UPON PARSON BUCHANAN. 315 Instead of answering this soliloquy, remembering Par- son Blair's suggestion to him to get a pair of specs to enable him to distinguish between a man and a miss, he sends him a note, tied around a handsome case, contain- ing a pair of gold spectacles, having two sets of glasses, one to see through and the other in the corners, intimat- ing thereby that brother Blair might himself have occa- sion for this second sight. It ran thus : " A nativo Caledonise, loci inclyti Secundo visu et cacoethe — Ad Joannem D. B., Cur non dicam D. D. ? Accept the specs which now I send; They are the present of a friend. Upon your text they'll throw more light. And eke will give the second sight. Yonr answer, I may well suppose. Will not be given in simple prose ; In rhyme I've gone beyond my pitcli, Alas ! from you I got the ?7c/i." Everything indicates tlie playfulness of these elder boys. Because one was exceedingly fond of inditing amusing notes in verse, the other, to give his brother pleasure, must imitate his example, and try his hand too. Then, having tlie idea that he had acquired the taste for such verses from his brotlier, " the cacoethes scrihendi^'' he commences his letter by saying, it came from a native of Caledonia, a place remarkable for second sight and the rage for writing. Then, playing upon the initials of Par- son Blair's name, J. D. B., he asks why should I not say " D. D.," doctor of divinity, showing how anxious he was to elevate him to the highest degree of the ministry. He 316 THE TWO PAESONS. could not help advising him very delicately of the neces- sity of his having the second sight himself. ■ To show that he understood the allusion, Parson Blair in his answer, with equal delicacy, without comment, simply italicizes the second sight. Not to be outdone either in Latin or compliments, he rejoins in French : "^ sa Reverence et meine qiCa sainte Reverendissvme Episcojpi : " Come, gentle muse, now do your best, And show your parts at my request ; To me you are a friend indeed. Helping me out in time of need ; Come, and your timely aid impart. To speak the language of the heart. The kindness of a friend rehearse In modest, pure and flowing verse ; For as the rhyming taste now goes. It will not do ' in simple prose.' My thanks, then, courtly nmse, present; See here the spectacles he sent ! 'Twas very thoughtful, very kind. To aid the sight of one near blind. Whose eyes were growing dim with age, Ere 3'ears had rendered him a sage. ' Upon my text they'll throw more light, And eke will give the second sigJd /' And furthermore, the two side-glasses Will seem to notice all that passes ; As if the wary preacher spied What folks were doing on each side. This will instruct them to l)ehave. And make the very flirt look grave ; For when I spread 'em out before 'em. They'll look upon them in terroremP IMPOSITION UPON PARSON BUCHANAN. 317 The conceit of the wary preacher spying what the con- gregation were doing, reminds ns of an anecdote which shows it were better for a preacher who has a keen sense of the ludicrons not to be able to see all that passes. We heard a worthy politician once say, that while he was soar- ing in one of his happiest flights, his eye was attracted by seeing a man in the gallery of the house bending over the banisters with a quid of tobacco in his fingers, sighting keenly over a gentleman who, with head thrown back and mouth wide open, was gently snoozing in his seat be- low. As the quid left his fingers, the aim being accurate, it fell directly in his mouth. The unlucky sleeper, wholly unconscious of what was the matter, or how it had hap- pened, sprang to his feet in great excitement, whilst the man in the gallery subsided demurely into his seat. The orator irresistibly laughed aloud ; upon which the audi- ence, many of whom had followed the speaker's eye, burst into an immoderate fit of laughter, which was greatly heightened by the savage gravity of the offended gentleman. Returning from this digression, we feel it a duty to say that Parson Buchanan was too good and too liberal to permit the Amicable Society to lose the amount of his check, but, upon the first opportunity, reimbursed the society in full, and added the amount of his own contri- bution to Miss Smith besides. Upon reperusing the poetical soliloquy which Parson Blair had cunningly written for his especial use and com- fort, instead of amusing him, as it had done at first, it rather threw him into a serious mood, and taking up his pen, he said : " It would be well to turn this thing to profit. It is a good theme for some future sermon." So he made this memorandum in his note-book: " Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's 318 THE TWO PARSONS. clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves." — Matt. vii. 15. " For I know this, that after my departing shall griev- ous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock." — Acts XX. 29. "What shall be done unto thee, thou false tongue?" — Psalm cxx. 3. " For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, trans- forming themselves into the apostles of Christ. And no marvel; for Satan liimself is transformed into an angel of light."— 2 Cor. xi. 13, 14. "Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits, whether they are of God : because many false prophets are gone out into the world." — 1 John iv. 1—3. " These things," he said, " will keep, and thought upon thought may be built thereon." CHAPTEK XX. MISS LULY INGLEDON EEADING A GENTLEMAN'S COUNTE- NANCE, AND GIVING HIM AN ANSWEK UNQUESTIONED. WE have lost sight for some time of onr sprightly teacher and orator of the Female Academy. We knew that whenever she " turned out," as the phrase is, she could not possibly be long without attracting ad- mirers worthy of her varied accomplishments, her merry and intelligent face, and her lovely person. As Parson Blair said, when he was fishing, " the bait had scarcely touched the water before it 'was seized.'^ It was not quite as bad as that, but there were several glorious nibbles. Parson Blair took a peculiar pride in her — we were about to say, the master spirit of the Academy, but we shall be satisfied with calling her the brightest specimen of his skill as a teacher. She was a feather in his cap that varied like the plumes of the peacock. She could be o;rave or 2;av»in a twinkling: dazzle in the sun with the tints of gold and the richness of many hues, and would even glisten as the shadows of the passing clouds flitted by her. We must bring up the intervening events by taking a retrospect of what transpired in another family. Our readers have had a bird's-eye view of Miss Ingledon, but they are ignorant of the circumstances by which she was surrounded. She was the only daughter of Mrs. Lucy Ingledon, widow of an ofiicer of the Revolution distin- guished for his bravery. Airs. Ingledon herself was an 320 THE TWO PARSONS. heiress, and Col. Ingledon, in addition to his own ample means, had obtained by his marriage with her a very considerable fortune. By luck}' and judicious invest- ments this had been greatly increased, and the proceeds invested in stocks and eligibly situated houses and lots in improving localities in the city. Parson Buchanan felt a peculiar interest in little Luly, not merely from the scenes at the Academy, but because he had officiated at her baptism, had been intimate in the family from his first arrival in the country, and especially because, just before Col. Ingledon's death, he had sent for him, advised with him as to the disposition of his pro- perty, and commended his daughter to the good man's kindness, hoping he would aid her with religious and secular advice. Several years had elapsed since the Colonel's death, and the mother and daughter had been in comparative seclusion; but time had alleviated their affliction. When the daughter left the Academy, at the age of sixteen, the mother launched l^er into society by taking her in full dress to one of the largest parties given dui-ing the winter. This was her debut. Mrs. Ingledon was a lady of high family connection, and prided herself upon her ancestral descent. When Mrs. Blair and herself visited each other, as was not unfrequently the case, it w§s a never failing source of entertainment to tliem to recall reminiscences of noble connections, including high dames and distin- guished noblemen. Mrs. Ingledon was somewhat formal, possessed a dhtlngue air, and quite a cultivated mind, with much refinement of manners. She had been in her younger days quite a beauty and a belle. Even now some of Parson Buchanan's parishioners would slyl}^ inti- mate that if these two were much thrown together it would not be very wonderful if he should be captivated by her. But the good man, it seemed, possessed a charmed MISS LULY INGLEDON. 321 life, for Cupid's arrows invariably glanced off as they ilew towards him. The daughter, unlike her mother, was life and anima- tion itself; and considering her youth, was easy, graceful, playful as a kitten, and demonstrably affectionate. She only wanted age and experience to give her the improve- ment which intercourse with the best society sooner or later generally brings. Every one knows that there is something attractive in the appearance of fine animals, and it needs no connois- seur to point out at first sight a blooded horse. His step is elastic and light, his carriage lofty and gay; there is a spring in every motion; he is neat and trim, sleek and silky. You see at once the genuine blooded stock. So you could see that Luly was of the old Virginia stock, whose souls scorned a mean action, whose thoughts were elevated, whose veins felt the genial warmth of bountiful hospitality, and who possessed the dauntless spirit to op- pose a manly breast to open or secret foes. When yon , saw her, you would say " she was one of these." She had a winning way about her, a native, inborn politeness, readiness in conversation, cheerfulness, "a laiighin' mou','' a joyous smile, and withal a good heart. She could, wlien proper, send a deserved satiric shaft and a quick repartee tliat displayed intellectual power which none could despise. She was a rare compound. There was a shade of melancholy, a tinge of sadness, and a ray of mirth combined in her face. She had an open counte- nance, and yet a downcast modesty that softened and sweetened the dash of fearlessness that indicated self- possession and character. She would greet you with both hands, and where affection was involved, with up- turned lips; and yet there was an undeiinable something in her manner that indicated the limit beyond which it was not safe to venture. 322 THE TWO PARSONS. She had a way of speaking kind things. It was flattery, upright and downright — nothing but unadulterated flat- tery — and laid on with the blade of a pen-knife, trowel or shovel, according to the subject, and as smooth as the sculptor's finished cast of a Venus or a Madonna. The art was in giving it the polish. You could see the flattery, but it was sugar-coated, and helped to enhance the sweet- ness. Slie had a nickname for each of her beaux, never ad- dressing them l,y their real names. She never mistered, or coloneled, generaled, or doctored them. She had an endearing epithet of her own. It gratified, because it looked as if it was used as an evidence of special kind- ness. Her manner was difficult to describe. If a gentle- man began to be over head and ears in love, and she could catch him gazing intently, in loving mood, right full at her, she would say, in the most winning manner, " I do ;" or ten to one if she didn't take the other tack and say, " I'll be switched if you do," or, " No, you don't.' The fellow would inevitably be thrown all aback. The attack is so sudden, unexpected, direct, he is caught so utterly defenceless, that he precipitately retreats, and only at his leisure to think " what did she mean " ? . We have given you these little insights into Luly's character that you may know her the better as we pro- gress. We cannot say she was a perfect beauty, for she was not ; but notwithstanding, if Cupid and she took a notion to smite, you may rely upon it you would be smit- ten past redemption. Mrs. Ingleton's house became one of the centres of attraction for beaux and belles. They found a ready reception there, and the mornings and evenings were occupied with gay meetings, pleasant con- verse, fine music, and sometimes with an impromptu dance. The beaux came flitting around, and some of them, like the moth playing about the candle, would flutter ofl^ with. MISS LULY INGLEDON. 323. wings singed, unable to reach the dazzling prize by which they were attracted. Among them was one who, though a beau in our younger days, was then flourishing like a green bay tree, and go when you would, you would find the hat of Mr. Nelson hanging on the same peg in the capacious hall, or twirling around in his hands over his lap, while he,, with genteel mein and pleasant air, would be seated " tete a tete " with little Luly, or standing by her side turning the music, while she sweetly sang at his request. She was decidedly leading him a dance, not caring much whether he danced or not. Driving along, as she said, holding the reins taut, keep- ing the animal up to his metal, but not allowing him to get the bit in his mouth. When her companions would say, " Flirting, Luly V she would reply, " Keeping my hand in ; nothing more." It so happened, whether by design or not is not ma- terial, that Miss Luly's piano fronted one of the hand- some mirrors in the parlor, and while she was playing and singing for him one morning, and endeavoring, after her manner, to look killiferous, die-away-abus, and " very lovey," she looked up in the mirror and saw him looking rather more so. Their eyes met through that medium. Not the least disconcerted, turning her head a little to one side and looking at him direct, she said, " De sparks what flashes from dem eyes aint nufhn to nobody. Did I catch you, Simon ?" She called him Simon from her first acquaintance,, without rhyme or reason, as far as any one knows. It was her way. "Can't I look at you?" he said. " Umph-oo," very soft. She turned square around in. her chair and faced him. 324 THE TWO PARSONS. "Miss Lilly," lie began, and paused. She said mus- ingly but very naively, " Umph." "I can't understand, you," he said. " Why ? you called my name interrogatively, and I said humph as sweet as I could, interrogatively, which was as much as to say ' w^hat, Simon V " "I was looking at your face, to see whether I could read it," he said. "And I turned around and looked into yours, and read it like a book. I say, No; I thank you. Parson Blair used to say when I was at tlie academy, 'Questions are the keys of knowledge ;' but they are of no account with- out the proper answers. There is a' vast deal of meaning in those two letters, No ! " " Then am I to V and he paused again and looked " We?y loveyr " Why, certainly, you are. I do not intend there shall be a quarrel between us, Simon. With a gentleman of your head and heart, I am not a whit sorter so to-day; I am altogether sorter not so. And to save you a great deal of trouble, vexation and disappointment, havng read your face through the mirror, I put my foot down and say, No !" "That's pretty decided," said Simon, "without being asked," " Well ! rather ; but I could add another word, and make it more so. Do you want to hear it, Simon ? I'll just say it to prevent mistakes. Never !" Mr. Nelson rising with hi^ hand stretched forward, said " Good-bye." Cupid disappeared early daring the interview. Simon went liis way, and soliloquized thus : " She's a curer ! 'No!' 'Never!' I didn't say a word. She read me like a book. Sic transit gloria imindi^'^ MISS LULT INGLEDON. 325 She waited until he was fairlv o-one. Then lookino; out of the window as he crossed the street, she said, " It w^ill not kill him. He will court somebody else before a sixtj-day note will fall due. "We can meet now as if nothing unusual had occurred. He will not look kill- iferous at me again." CHAPTEK XXL DINNER AT BUCHANAN'S SPEING— BARBECTTE CLUB. WE have endeavored to show, from the materials in om' possession, how our worthy Parsons acted on various occasions when they were accidentally thrown amid worldly amusements, and if our readers will bear with us, we shall proceed on our journey. Of all the good citizens of Richmond at this period, there were but few, we imagine, who had not heard of the celebrated Barbecue Club, which held its weekly m eet- ings on Saturday, during the summer months, at Buch- anan's Spring. This was the delightful retreat on Parson Buchanan's farm to which the volunteer companies re- sorted for recreation on festive occasions. The Barbecue Club was composed, at that time, of thirty members, all of high standing, of literary and scientific tastes, of genial dispositions and rare social qualities. Their humor, wit and knowledge of the world rendered their society most attractive. It was indeed de- lightful to them and their friends to pass an hour or two together when they wished to beguile their cares with innocent amusements. It was a pleasure to all to lay aside their several occupations, and with them the pomp and circumstance of official position, to throw off the weight and burden of public affairs, to get rid of the bustle, confusion and strife of the bar, the anxieties and troubles of frail humanity with which physicians are familiar, the quotations of the stock exchange, the deep- BARBECUE CLUB. 327 laid schemes for speculation, and the paraphernalia at- tendant on the routine of mercantile life. It was considered a great honor to bo elected a member of this Club, as it was known that selections were made with great care. Two members objecting would prevent an election. It was not often that a vacancy occurred. The number was limited, to avoid the danger of coteries and small circles, and to bring all around the social board within the range of hearing, allowing each to mingle in jests and repartees, and partake of the genial warmth that such spirits must elicit. Each member was allowed the privilege of inviting one guest, but with the restriction that the invitations were to be confined to distinguished strangers who might be in the city on the day of meeting. This afforded to each one the opportunity of becoming personally acquainted with them. It was considered a special privilege to be elected an honorary member of this Club. The governor, during his official term, had a standing invitation ; but as far as our information extends, there were no other honorary members except Parsons Blair and Buchanan. To show the class of men who at that day were mem- bers of this Club, we will name: John Marshall, the eminent jurist, ambassador. Secretary of State, and sub- sequently Chief Justice of the United States, with his plain, simple, unassuming manners and great intellect; Dr. John Brockenbrough, the President of the Bank of Virginia, who subsequently managed its affairs with such ability and skill ; the great barrister, John Wickham, a most courtly and genial gentleman, who pursued his pro- fession for more than thirty years with distinguished reputation; Dr. William Foushee, the head and front of the medical profession of this city; Thomas Ritchie, his 328 THE TWO PARSONS. son-in-law, who had then but Lately established his cele- brated Richmond JEnqidrer, and who Avas afterwards known as the Napoleon of the press; William Wirt, the author, scholar, lawyer, Clerk of the House of Delegates, Judge and Attorney General of the United States; Philip N. Nicholas, the Attorney General and Judge of the Circuit Court of the State, and subsequently President of the Farmer's Bank of A^rginia; Daniel Call, a lead- ing member of tlie bar, practising in the Court of Ap- peals, and the peer of the best law^^ers of that day; Thomas Rutherfoord and Charles Ellis, both prominent, upright, conscientious, influential merchants of the city; Major James Gibbon, the hero of Stony Point; William Munford, a member of the Executive Council, subse- quently Clerk of the House of Delegates, author of legal reports, and translator in blank verse of Homer's Iliad; Dr. Peter Lyons, an eminent physician, a gentleman of line acquirements and moral worth; Col. John Ambler and Col. John Harvie, the Mayor of Richmond and the Register of the Land Office, both worthy progenitors of illustrious families, each of exemplary character, of wealth and great popularity ; James Brown, Jr., then a most wortliy merchant and subsequently Second Auditor of the State; besides others, equally meritorious, full of life, joyous and grave, in every way qualified to add to the merriment and sober pleasantries of such a party. The meetings of the club were from May to October annually. The expenses were met by a regular contri- bution, assessed at the commencement of the season, and paid in advance to the treasurer. This officer had the power to select two members as caterers, who presided at the board on the following Saturday. At this time Major Gibbon was the treasurer, and he had appointed Mr. Marshall and Mr. Wiekham the cater- ers ; and as they were hon vivants, and had with them old BARBECUE CLUB. 329 Robin and Jasper Crou(;li, the colored caterers, we are certain tliey ol)tained for the dinner the best the market afforded. Being connoisseurs in drinks too, they would have nothing but the best. The rules of the Club pro- hibited wines except upon special occasions. Julep, punch or toddy, and porter or ale, were the ordinary A drinks. On this occasion the following note was addressed by the treasurer to Parson Blair; one equally friendly hav- ing been sent to Parson Buchanan. "To THE E.KV. John D. Blair: "Dear Sir: I am directed by the Buchanan Spring Barbecue Club, by special resolution, to remind you that your presence, as one of the honorary members, is desired on next Saturday. We esteem it a great honor for Mr. Buchanan and yourself to unite with us in our innocent amusements. It greatly enhances our pleasure. Besides the interest derived from your conversation, we enjoy the contests between yourself and Mr. Marshall in the game of quoits. " With great respect, your friend, etc., "James Gibbon, Treasurer P The following answer was received from Parson Blair : " I thank, my dear sir, your respectable Club, For inviting me still to repair to the hub. For I long to achieve, as before, some exploit. With my knife and my fork, and in throwing the quoit ; For I plainly perceive, tho' advancing in age, I shall never become either cynic or sage. Your social, gay meetings mu-ch pleasure afford; And festive politeness presides at the board. Long time have your members been used to repair To the spring, from the noise of the town and its air ; 21 330 THE TWO PARSONS. The merchant hi^ ledger shuts up for awhile. And suffers amusement his cai'cs to beguile ; The doctors, attentive to cure and to please, Give their patients an opiate, and leave them at ease ; Your judges and lawyei'S banish hence, too, afar. The decisions of courts and the pleas of the bar ; They throw aside all the "reports oi the books," And assemble Avith pleasure and glee in their looks; Our good parish Parson, too, there I see sit, And discern in his " e'en " the sure signal of wit, — Of wit which the table still sets in a roar. By courteous retort or by Innnor in store. TMien the dinner is done to the meg we repair, And by way of prelude send t>ur »jUoits in the air ; Then choosing our partners, each taking his side. In friendly contention the parties divide. With adroitness and skill every one takes his aim, To obtain for his partners the best of the game ; He e'en leans to du-ect the quoit after it's flung, And all shout and huzza if perchance it has rung. This game is athletic, of all things the best For bracing the nerves or expanding the chest; 'Tis productive at once both of pleasure and health, Where no cares can intrude, save thev come in bv stealth ; It's of ancient renown, for in Yirgil we're told. The discus was prized by the Trojans of old. Their kind invitation, allow me to say it. Is enhanced by the manner in which you convey it ; So friendly the note you were pleased to indite. And your style of expression so truly polite. " Truly, etc., ' J. D. B." Parsons Blair's allusions to the good parish Parson and his quotation of the Scotch word "e'en," proves his re- ference to Parson Buchanan; for he permits no oppor- BARBECUE CLUB. 331 tnnity to escape which will enable him to refer to his old friend in the kindest and most friendly manner. **^ Mr. Marshall sat at the head and Mr. Wickham at the foot of the table. A better dinner of the substantials of life was rarely seen. The only dessert they indulged in was a steaming, juicy mutton chop, cooked to a turn, and "dexdiled ham," highly seasoned with mustard, cayenne pepper, and a slight flavoring of Worcester sauce, and these were passed along the board. After these condiments had been discussed and dis- posed of, Mr. Marshall said, " The treasurer had, accord- ing to the request of the club at its last meeting, re- minded our honorary members, the Rev. John Buchanan and the Rev. John D. Blair, that it would be exceedingly agreeable to the club if they would meet us on this occa- sion, and he was happy to see them both present. He was also pleased to have received the written answer of Mr. Blair, which he woidd read to the club." This was received with marked approbation, each member taking the cue from Mr. Wickham and striking the table with the handle of his knife in three successive rounds. Mr. Marshall then added, "It w^as known to the club that two of the members at the last meeting had, con- trary to the constitution, introduced the subject of poll- ■ tics, which ought to be tabooed here, and though warned to desist, had continued the discussion. The consequence was that, b}' unanimous vote, they had been lined a basket of champagne for the benefit of the Club. They had sub- mitted to the imposition like worthy members, and the champagne was now produced as a warning to evil doers. It was so seldom the Club indulged in such beverages, they%had no champagne glasses, and must therefore drink it in tumblers." Mr. Wickham begged leave to add, " as nobody objects to the tumblers, we will drink to the health and happiness of our two lionorary members, who 332 THE TWO PARSONS. have gratified ns with their presence to-day." Parson Buchanan immediately said, '' that for himself he had no objection to a little wine for his many infirmities," and he emphasized the word little ; " but he hoped that those who indulged in tumblers at the table would not prove to be tumblers nnder the table." Parson Blair promptly said, " In looking around he saw so many gentlemen dis- tinguished for their oratorical powers and eloquence, that he had no fears they would ever sink into bathos, which he would define to be the art of tumbling from the sub- lime to the ridiculous, and this he considered would be the case with tumblers under the table." These brief remarks were received with great pleasure, and, as Parson Blair had said, " the table was set in a roar," and all formality was at an end. In a little while those who played quoits quitted the table, and, taking their coats off, were full of the game. Many of the members did not play, and remained at the table in pleasant converse, when jest and story and song were the order of the day. Parson Blair joined the quoit players, while Parson Buchanan remained with the jesters, saying he did not see much fun in pitching a quoit. Mr. Marshall challenged Parson Blair to make up the game, and each selected four partners. Most of those who were in the habit of ♦playing had procured for them- selves handsome, smooth, highly polished brass quoits, which were kept in order by Jasper Crouch. Mr. Mar- shall, on tlie contrary, had a set of the largest, most un- couth, rough iron quoits, which very few of the Club could throw with any accuracy from hub to hub ; but he threw them with great ease, and frequently rung the meg. It was exceedingly pleasant to witness the eager- ness with which such men engaged in this sport, and to see with what earnestness they would measure the dis- BARBECUE CLUB. 333 tance of each quoit from the hub. We have seen Mr. Marshall, in later times, when he was Chief Justice of the United States, on his hands and knees, with a straw and a penknife, the blade of the knife stuck through the straw, holding it between the edge of the quoit and the hub, and, when it was a very doubtful question, pinching or biting off the ends of the straw until it would fit to a hair. His extreme accuracy and justice were so well known that his decision was invariably submitted to without a murmur. Dr. Brockenbrough, Col. Harvie, Mr. Wirt, and Major Gibbon on one side, and Col. Ambler, Mr. Ellis, Mr. IS^icholas, and Dr. Lyons on the other; these, with the leaders, constituted the game. The leaders in the game generally reserved their throws to the last. The four gentlemen on each side had throw^n, and their quoits were all close around and about the meg. Mr. Marshall, with his long arms hanging loosely by his side, a quoit in each hand, leaning slightly to the riglit, carried his right hand and right foot to the rear; then, as he gave the quoit»the impetus of his full strength, brought his leg up, throwing the force of the body upon it, struck the meg near the ground, driving it in at the bottom, so as to incline its head forward, his quoit being forced back two or three inches by the recoil. Without changing his position, he shifted the remaining quoit to his right hand, and, fixing the impression of the meg on the optic nerve by his keen look, again threw, striking his first quoit and gliding his last directly over the head of the meg. There arose a shout of exulting merriment. It is amusing to see how different men perform the same action in different ways. We described Mr, Mar- shall's manner minutely just to note this difference. Our Parson placed his heels against the meg at which he was standing, his body square to the front, then bringing his 334 THE T\V(^ PARSOXS. quoit upon a level with bis eye, aimed it as if sighting a gun, giving the impetus entu-elv from the shoulder, — the quoit going like an Indian's arrow at the edge of a cent, performed the same exploit as Mr. Zvlarshall, ringing the meg on the top of his quoit. This was received with such uproarious applause that it brought all the Club fi-om the table. But the Parson had another tlirow. Taking his position, he again strnck the meg; but his quoit, l)eing too light, rebounded and ran into the grass. He called out, " Stop that colt ! " It was evident, from the pertinacity of the adversaries upon the question of who was the winner, that fun was the object. The importance of the subject requu-ed it should be decided by the Club. They adjourned, therefore, to the table, and the caterers were unanimously required to present the case faii-lv, concise' v, and humoronslv. •We wish we could reproduce the arguments, pro and con, as thev were delivered. We can onlv o-ive them as recounted to us by some of the hearers years afterwards. As thev were intended for fnn, a o'ood deal of the mock heroic was indulged in, and they relied less upon the strength of the point or the force of the argument than upon the effect in producing good humor and mirth. One object in the submission of the question was to afford an opportunity to crack another bottle of cham- pagne. TTe merely hint at the topics and elucidations. Mr. Marshall proposed the question : Wlio is winner when two adversary quoits are on the meg at the same time ? Having the first throw, he had succeeded with one of his quoits in ringing the meg. Parson Blair, the leader of the other side, had followed him, and he was pleased to say with his usual skill, had accomplished the same feat. The winner has a right to score two in the game. This was not a case for measurement, but was to be decided by the construction and application of the rules of tlie BARBECUE CLUB. 335 game. It matters not what was the conformation of the quoit, whether large or small, whether the cavity in the interior was dilated or contracted. Members had the privilege of selecting their own qnoits, so as to adapt them to their hands and tlieir ability to throw them grace- fully and manfully. Both quoits embrace the hub, and the one first ringing the meg has the advantage. It is the duty of the adver- sary to knock that quoit off, and then to take its position. This is the skill of the game, and unless he can rise to this pitch of perfection he cannot be decreed to be the winner. My friend, the worthy Parson, deserves to rise higher and higher in esteem, and I am sure he will be in that higher firmament to which we all aspire at some future day; but if he expects to reach Elysium by riding on my back, I fear, from my many backslidings and defici- encies, he may be sadly disappointed. I do not play back- gammon after that fashion. This new mode of playing it looks too much like the game of leap frog to meet my approbation. It would not be very seemly for my estim- able friend or myself to be playing at that game at this period of our lives. There is another view of the case. His position on the meg was the same with the old law maxim, '^Cujus est soluhi ejus est usque ad caelum.'''' He was the first oc- cupant, and his right extended from the ground up to the vault of heaven, and no one had a right to become a squatter on his back. If his opponent had adversary claim, he must obtain a writ of ejectment, or drive him from his position vl et armis. There was another game of great antiquity to which he would refer. It was a game plaved bv bovs, and they understood such matters fully as well as men; the game of "Man the King.'" The object was to get all the men out of the ring, or to kill the taw of the antagonist. 336 THE TWO PARSONS. Now, if one boy sees his adversary in a position to knock out all the men from the ring, it is his duty, with keen eye and practised aim, to plump him up from taw. When that feat is performed there is a regular dancing by himself and a kicking up of heels by his partners. Now, it is equally the duty of our good Parson to plump my quoit off the meg; and though it might be unseemly for him to dance, yet the rest of the club might take pleasure in elevating their heels for joy. This is the rule, and if so, judgment should be given for me. This speech was received with Hattering applause, and Mr. Marshall and Mr. Call indulged in a quiet ha! ha! Mr. Wickham said, "My friend Marshall, with his usual perspicuity has fairly submitted the question for the decision of the club, and ingeniously stated his view of the rule to govern the case. We intend to meet him squarel}'^, and deny his rule, his law and his inference. We have listened to both argument and banter, have been both nnstructed and amused, but not convinced. There is another view, which we believe the true one. Where two adversary quoits are on the same meg, neither is victorious. It must be considered a tie or drawn throw. It is well known to the club, that our friend Marshall's quoit is twice as large as any other; and yet it flies from his arm as flew the iron ball at the Grecian games, when thrown by the robust arm of Telemonian Ajax. It is an iron quoit, unpolished, jagged, and of enormous weight. It is impossible for an ordinary light quoit to move it from its position. No rule requires an impossibility. He is not entitled to such an advantage, ♦ Our friend facetiously remarks, that Parson Blair, by mounting on his back, had evinced a disposition to leave the earth for Elysium. We will all unite in saying here, that our Parson, in concert witli his comrade, Parson Buchanan, cannot be spared as yet, to be sent in the BARBECUE CLUB. 337 twinkling of an eye ''ad astral He has only mounted on an elevated position to get a commanding view, and is exceedingly indebted to his friend Marshall for the great height he has attained in public estimation ; for by rid- ing on that pinnacle, he will \)q, more apt to arrive in time at the upper round of the ladder of fame. " If two or more quoits on the same side should ring the meg, each of them would score two. But adversary quoits stand upon a different footing. If each of these should be entitled to score, they would simply produce an equation, become plus and minus quantities, and destroy each other, as Parson Blair and Parson Buchanan once did in a certain election. It was an even vote. It is a tie throw. As to the law maxim, ' cujus est solum ^^ that is the very question at issue. The first squatter on Par- son Buchanan's land is no better than the second, nor does a shingling of patents, one shingle lopping over the back of the other, give any advantage. You are to try the right to the soil. Parsons are men of peace, and do not vanquish their antagonists vi et arrais. We do not desire to prolong this riding on Mr. Marshall's back ; he is too much of a Rosinante to make the ride asjreeable. We do not perceive the resemblance between the game of quoits and that of ' man the ring,' the game of marbles, and the manly throwing of the discus. We cannot con- sent to derive a governing rule from such a source, since it has been so earnestly tabooed by a certain minister of the gospel, who proclaimed to his youthful hearers, as a solemn truth, that they should ' marvel not.' " Our friend Marshall, too, exhibiting his playful conceit, imagined that this mode of pitching quoits resembled the game of " leap frog," and maintained that he did not play backgammon after that fashion. We do not perceive the similarity. The game of leap frog was one of the most .ancient of games, having, we believe, been established anno 338 THE TWO PARSONS. tnundl 2513. There is a marked difference, however. Tlie boys at the conclusion of their game generally set up one boy on all-fours, and four of them taking another by the arms and legs, use him as a battering ram to over- throw the bulwarks of their antagonists. He lioped we- would indulge in no such penalty, but that our friends would consider this a drawn throw, and take a new chance accordingly." This speech was cheered to the echo, and the merri- ment produced was exceedingly jovial and pleasant. The Club then proceeded to vote, and the members seemed to take delight, as the roll was called, in making the vote as close as possible. It was iinally decided to be a drawn throw. When tlie parties resumed the game, Mr. Marshall placed his quoit about an inch from the meg, while Parson Blair's fell just behind, leaving Mr. Marshall undoubtedl}- victorious. Meanwliile the residue of the Club, wdth Parson Buch- anan, were enjoying themselves in delightful converse, in amusing stories, and some of the best songs of the olden time. Parson Buchanan pleasantly remarked, he thouglit music one of the greatest assistants to ministers of the gospel in the devotions of the sanctuary. An appro- priate hymn at the commencement of the service pre- pared the mind for the solemnities of the occasion, and, when sung with spirit and with feeling, it enforced the minister's remarks and made the occasion more impres- sive. For himself, he was exceedingly fond of fine poe- try, the outpouring of a devout heart, overflowing with lofty thoughts and heavenly inspiration. When set to sweet, melodious music, there was nothing better calcu- lated to inspire the heart and transport the mind. Next to such music, he was fond of the old-fashioned au-s, adapted to the words of the best poets. BARBECUE CLUB. 339' Mr. Kutherfoord said he knew Mr. Nekervis sang many of these old airs, and he hoped, for the gratification of Mr. Buchanan, he would sing a song or two from "auld Kobbie Burns." Parson Buchanan responded that Mr. Nekervis' tenor had often been heard amid the choir in the capitol, and his was a voice that many of the public singers might envy. Mr. Nekervis, without any protestations of inability, with great life and animation, and with a richness and sweetness not often surpassed, sang '' All the Blue Bon- nets are over the Border." "Ah," said Mr. Rutherfoord, always fond of poetry and quoting a sentiment that pleased him, "'Many a banner spread, flutters above your head — Many a crest that is famous in story; Mount and make ready then, sons of the mountain glen, Fight for your Queen and the old Scottish glory.' "Yes, old Burns used to say, " ' We'll laugh and kiss, and dance and sing. And gar the langest day seem short.' " Mr. Nicholas called upon Mr. James Brown, Jr., to follow the good example set by Mr. Nekervis, and he sang, in a rich voice and with much spirit, " La Marseil- laise." At the repetition of the chorus all the members united, Parson Buchanan, with his full, sonorous bass^ swelling the mellow tones. Again Mr. Rutherfoord with fine effect repeated — " ' En avant, marchons ! Contre leurs canons; Courons au feu An feu des bataillons.' " 340 THE TWO PARSONS. Parson Buchanan said be enjo3'ed this music very much, and hoped Mr. Nekervis would give him one more of Burns' songs. Mr. Nekervis said he would give a verse or two of '' There's Nae Luck About the House," and sang in a lively tone the following : " And are ye sure the news is true ? And are ye sure he's weel ? Is this a time to talk o' wark ? Ye jads, lay by your wheel ! Is this a time to talk o' wark. When Colin's at the door ? Gie' me my cloak ! I'll to the quay, And see him come ashore. "Rise up, and mak' a clean lire-side, Pnt on the muckle pat ; Gie' little Kate her cotton gown. And Jock his Sunday's hat ; And make their shoon as black as slaes. Their hose as white as suaw ; It's a' to please my ain gudeman, — He likes to see them braw." This song produced the most charming effect, and all, as before, joined in the chorus, Parson Buchanan keep- ing time with his hands. " What is more natural," said he, " or comes more direct from the heart than the two lines — " And will I see his face again I And will I hear him speak I" BARBECUE CLUB. 341 Mr. Rutlierfoord added, " Or tlian those other two in the next verse — " The present mament is our ain, The neist we never saw." The Chib in fine humor dispersed, no one being under the table. There was never a more pleasant party than when these congenial spirits were thrown together. CHAPTER XXIl. MRS. INQLEDON, COL. EGBERT BRAINTREE AND MR. THOMAS CLAIBORNE. WE concur with Parson Blair in his estimate of married and single life. We prefer, however, to give his views in his own way. Some wag ha^dng published in a newspaper a few humorous verses against w^edlock, and headed his piece, "Long metre;" Parson Blair answered it, but changed the measure to " Common metre," after this fashion : " Happy the man who timely takes A modest, virtuous wife, And thus the gloomy haunts forsakes. Of solitary life. " Adam in Eden was not blest Until he got his Eve ; Then he the choicest gift possessed That heaven to man could give. " Soon as the beauteous fair he view'd, And knew she was his own, He found by contrast 'twas not good For man to be alone. "The man who wisely takes a wife Has pleasures chaste and pure. MRS. INGLEDON COL. BEAINTREE MR. CLAIBORNE. 343 'Midst all the treacheries of life, Of one kind friend secure. " He's like a tree of tirraest root, And branches spreading wide ; His children are the precious fruit, His comfort and his pride. *' His wife encircled in his arms, He views his little ones; Sees in his girls their mother's charms, And statesmen in his sons. *'And when arrived at life's last stage. When years shall weigh him down, They'll prove the staff of his old age. Of his grey head the crown. "They give a pleasure to his mind. And they prolong his fame ; The num'rous race- he leaves behind, Perpetuate his name. "Not so the bachelor: he feels No pleasures so refined : A useless thing, thro' life he struts, T'oblivion consigned." When he had written this, he sent a copy to Parson Buchanan, saying : " The last stanza is particularly de- dicated to my good Ijrother. When he calls to look after tay little Luly, he may, perhaps, kill two birds with one stone, by looking sharper after sister Ingledon. That inspection may induce him to ponder over these com- mon metre lines, and give him a desire to 'perpetuate his name.' " 344: THE TWO PARSONS. Parson Buchanan generally permitted these banters to pass unnoticed. But he took up his pen, and smiling at his own conceit, his thoughts ran thus : " Dear Brother : What is a bachelor ? He is defined to be "one who takes his first degree at the university." I expect by application to have M. A. in due time. J. B." " Well, well !" says Parson Blair. " Swift says ' ap- plication' signifies 'solicitation.' He expects, by solicita- tion to have little Luly's ma, sister Ingledon. Dear, dear!" It passed through his mind, " I know him. He is Master of Arts! ^^ Nobody, as far as we know, had ventured to test Mrs. Ingledon's wishes upon a subject like this. The daughter was the great object of attraction, and the high-born dame held her head above " the common herd." Wealth and blood were the fascinations for her, and she had not felt the glow from these fires warming her own veins. She was engrossed in her daughter's success, and fixed her heart and ambition upon attaining these for that daughter's portion. We have said elsewhere she was formal and distant; but with those she considered her peers she could unbend and be very gracious. With Parson Buchanan she was easy and pleasant; nothing more. He could not be otherwise with anybody, high or low. She often consulted him about her daughter and those who were paying her attentions. On more occasions than one he said, " I do not know much about such things, Mrs. Ingledon, but my experience leads me to think that a parent had better not show too much anxiety in favor of any particular person, for it almost inevitably produces a dislike instead of a prefer- ence." The good man had seen into the mill-stone already. " I," said he, " take a great interest in her, in MRS. INGLEDON COL. BRAINTREE MR. CLAIBORNE. 345 consequence of her father's request, and really for her many excellencies and attractions. Let her have time to look about." Among those who had been paying her attention of late, Col. Robert Braintrce seemed to have been more fortunate than the rest in having attracted Mrs. Ingledon's notice and good will. Luly evinced no special regard whatever — hardly seemed inclined to make her appear- ance when the Colonel came, nnich less to set her cap for him. Mrs. Ino;ledon had known Col. Braintree in former days, and had been to his splendid mansion. She knew his progenitors, had dined and driven with his friends, sat behind his blooded bays, and looked at the style in wliicli his driver, in livery, handled his ribbons. She had seen tliQ silver service displayed on his sideboard, the old family portraits, the broad acres, and, in fact, had set her heart upon adding all these comforts and luxuries to the treasures she had in store for her Luly. Col. Braintree was a tobacco planter, living on an ele- gant estate. His residence was a splendid old family seat, which had passed through several generations, each improving and beautifying it, until it vied with many of the baronial estates of the English nobility. He was a, gentleman of about forty-iive years of age, of open, pleas- ing countenance, but swarthy complexion ; of medium stature, rather thick set ; a little distant, like Mrs. Ingle- don, but when drawn out in conversation, he displayed intellect and cultivated taste. His hair began to show a. sprinkling of gray, giving his head a slight appearance of pepper and salt, the pepper as yet predominating. He was fond of show and parade, rather inclined to ostenta- tion ; and when lie took a fancy to indulge in such things, came down with his purse liberally. He had ample means at his command to gratify fully his inclination or ambition in this respect. In truth, with coldness of man- 2-2 SttG THE TWO PARSONS. ner, he yet was a kind neighbor, an estimable gentleman, entertained like a prince, was good tempered, and tem- perate in all things. This was the gentleman Mrs. Ingledon had set her heart upon as a match for her daughter. This was the mill- stone into which Parson Buchanan thought he had seen. Col. Braintree had as yet made no unusual demonstrations except a few occasional calls. But Miss Luly was a very young girl, and when a gentleman of Col. Braintree's age calls in the mornings and asks especially for Miss Luly, Caesar, the old family servant of the Ingledons, began to think, " Well ! well ! this was indeed winter and spring coming together." There is a wide gaj) between forty- five and seventeen — considerably more than two to one. As we said in a former chapter, " man is a strange ani- mal." We are sometimes tempted to say, " woman is still more strange." Why should a lady like Mrs. Ingle- don wish her daughter to marry one who was not con- genial ? It often occurs that matches are made, not on account of similarity of tastes and dispositions, not be- cause of suitableness of age or appearance, but be- cause they are antipodes to each other. Sometimes a very lean, cadaverous man, and an un wieldly, fat woman ; sometimes an unusually tall woman and a five-footer — scarcely coming to her shoulders ; a two hundred pounder and a delicate little lassie ; and they often live harmoni- ously together. But when a sentimental, sweet-tempered, loving wife, and a boisterous, quarrelsome husband come together, then there is discord, and a bad time generally in that domicile. Mrs. Ingledon, considering this match as one much to be desired, embraced every opportunity to exhibit Col. Braintree in the most favorable light to her daughter. They were continually brought together by design, and it not unfrequently happened, by sheer accident. MKS. INGLEDON COL. BRAINTREE — MB. CLAIBORNE. 34:7 The city was all agog with rumors, and there was little that passed in the Ingledon family tliat liad not been spread abroad. Luly fought rather shy of the Colonel; he was not one she could call Simon or Peete, or to whom she could give any nickname. She could not be at ease with him; he was too dignified in her estimation. In truth, he was outside of her set. As fate would hav^e it, she was on her way, all alone, to Parson Blair's, to call upon his daughter Betsy, who, though older than herself, had yet contracted an intimacy with her. Tlieir friendship began at the Academ}', and was exceedingly pleasant and agreeable to botli. She was endeavoring to avoid an expected visit from Col. Braintree, whose praises her mother had been industri- ously singing, not mindful of Parson Buchanan's whole- some advice. It so happened that Parson Blair and Mr. Thomas Claiborne, a young gentleman whose father had been his intimate friend in Hanover, were walking together, when tliey unexpectedly encountered Miss Luly. The old gentleman, in the most joyous manner, greeted her with the warmest expressions of affection. " He had seen her,"" he said, "very seldom since she left the Academy." " Why, Mr. Blair," she said, " I scarcely ever think of your catcliing me with your cloak, hat and spectacles on, and making my eloquent speech against the candy regu- lations at the Academy, without having a hearty laugh." " Brother Buchanan and I," said he, " have had many a laugli over it ourselves. But, I beg pardon. Here is my young friend, Mr. Claiborne. I commend him to you as the son of my old classmate when we were boys together. Mr. Claiborne, Miss Lucy Ingledon. I used to say to my friends, ' She is the jewel of my Academy.' " "With Miss Ingledon's permission, I shall do myself the honor to call upon her shortly," said Mr. Clai- borne. 348 THE TWO PARSONS. "Do," she said. "Mother and I will be happy to see you.'" The two gentlemen passed on, the young ladj- in the opposite direction. Tiiere had been but a few words said,, only a glance or two, and a compliment to each from the Parson. But it sometimes happens so. Thought upon thouglit, in this mind and in that, material for castle- building, gathering and crowding together, piling up higher and higher, until the castles in the air assume a pretty outline. The columns have the light, airy capitals of the Corinthian order, but they are still only air-built. "Who is Mr. Thomas Claiborne? How has it hap- pened that we never met before?" said she. "I have heard of Miss Ingledon," he said, "but they say she is a drawn prize." " That would be a handsome couple, thought the Par- son," each making these passing comments as they mused.. Mr. Thomas Claiborne was a young gentleman of good birth and fair education, about twenty-five years of age^ six feet high, with a fine figure and well proportioned. He had a handsome, open, manly face; a kind, good heart, and was lil)eral to a fault. Everybody who knew him called him Thom, and nothing else. He was ex- ceedingly neat in dress, and no matter what kind of work he was engaged in, always managed to appear as if he had just completed his toilet. With coat well brushed and without a wrinkle, hat smooth and becoming, a fault- less ruffled shirt, with a small diamond pin, the gift of his mother, and clean white wristbands always managing to peep from under his cuffs, he appeared to the greatest advantage. These, with a well-fitting, neat boot caused him to be regarded as the very tip of the ton. Yet he was not at all inclined to foppery or dandyism, but was only very particular. His face was clean shaven, with neither moustache nor whiskers; his long hair smoothly MRS. INGLEDON COL. BRAINTEEE MR. CLAIBORNE. 349 brushed into a queue, was neatlj tied with a black ribbon. We have been thus particular in describing our Thom, because we like him; but our partiality has not induced us to over draw his picture. Thom was not what would have been called in those days, or these latter times, an eligible match for a rich heiress, because he was in no position of eminence, and had no great possessions of either real or personal property. He was the worthy recipient of a small salary as chief clerk in a wholesale auction establishment, where an extensive and lucrative business was carried on, and where he was busily and closely employed. He was respected and favored by his employers, and much beloved b}^ liis acquaintances and friends. There were but few liouses of public entertainment in the city of Richmond at that day, and they M^cre then called taverns. Among these, the "Eagle," the " Bell " and the "Swan" were the principal. Our story leads us to the "Swan Tavern." It was located on Broad street, ad- joining what is now the Richmond and Fredericksburg rail- road company's depot. It was a two-story wooden build- ing, with a porch in front, the full extent of the house, and from it swung, pendant, an old-fashioned square sign, with a swan painted in the centre; the bird seated on an unrippled lake, its yellow webbed feet projecting behind, and in large letters underneath, " The Swan Tavern." In Mr. Mordecai's pleasant book, among the reminis- cences of Richmond we find the following: "The Swan Tavern was kept by Major Moss. He exhibited good breeding, good feeding, and good fellowship in his full figure and face. His house might have been called the Lincoln's Inn or Doctor's Commons of Richmond; for there assembled in Term Time the non-resident judges and lawyers; and though of unpretending exterior, the Swan was the tavern of highest repute for good fare, 350 THE TWO PARSONS. good wine, and good company. Here centred 'the logic, and the wisdom, and the wit,' nor was the broad laugh wanting. It has lost its name and fame, and few of its professional guests survive." At this tavern our friend, and the no less elegant Col. Braintree, were boarding. But they were strangers to each other, and it did not appear that there was any reason for apprehending any clash of interests, or that discord could possibly spring up between them. This being Thorn's home, he was, after a hard day's work, lolling on the bench in the porch, just before sun- set. He was musing on the unexpected encounter of the morning, and upon what he had lately heard of Col. Braintree and that gentleman's prospects with Miss In- gledon. It was currently reported that they were already eno;ao;ed. At this moment a gentleman and lady, enjoying an evening ride upon two spirited bays, came cantering, around from the street leading by the Capitol Square at Ninth, and turned up Broad street. We have rarely seen a spirited lassie on a mettlesome charger who did not delight in a quick gait. The breeze gathered by the rapidity of the motion, the glow on the cheek, the novelty of the exercise — all combine to exhilarate the spirits to such a degree that it is almost impossible to restrain them. The consequence is, if any accident happens she is placed in great peril, and the danger aggravated if the gentleman gives his horse the rein, for l)oth horses then becoming excited, are apt to strive to be foremost, and a runaway race is commenced, in which the lady not un- frequently gets the worst of the bargain. So it was in the present instance. The lady, with her young blood full of excitement, under the elastic spring of her horse, had given him a loose rein, and her companion. Col. Brain- tree, wishing to keep pace, had freely applied the spur to MISS INGLEDON COL. BRAINTREE MR. CLAIBORNE. 351 bis horse ; so they were increasing in speed as they came up the street at a fearful rate. There happened to be coming down the street at this critical moment two men in charge of a vicious bull, an animal of great strength and power. He was held by a strong rope passed round his horns by one of the men, while the other restrained him by another rope around his hind leg; but he was pawing and throwing up the dust, dashing from one side to the other in a perfect fury. As soon as tlie lady's horse perceived the animal, he began suddenly springing, curvetting and kicking, while the gentleman tried, as far as possible, to prevent an en- counter by rapidly spurring his horse to her side; but hers, shying from him, whirled round and round. This was repeated again and again, spinning in a circle, the most dangerous evolution a horse can perform, even with a skilful master. The bull accelerated his motion, and a cry of " Take care, take care," in voices of terror, broke from the drovers. By a sudden dash, he had jerked the rope which held his foot from the hands of one of the drovers, and was dragging tiic other by the rope which restrained his horns, and with head down, horns pointed, and eyes on fire, was making directly for the horses. The attack was so sudden and unexpected it could not be averted ; but the weight of the dragging man, and his efforts to regain his footing, slightly diverted the aim of the bull, and grazing the prancing horse of the frightened lady, his horn passed through the lower part of her riding skirt. Tearing out a piece, he rushed on, flaunting it in the air. Never was lady in greater danger. JS^ot only from the horns of the animal, wliich she providentially escaped, but from the frightened horse on which she rode. She was young, without strength, and had but little experi- ence as a rider. Her torn skirt flapped upon his sides, 352 TiTE TWO PAKSONS. and the horse, having escaped the danger, but much ex- cited, reared to his full height, standing almost perpen- dicularly on his haunches. Our Thom had soon perceived that the lady was in imminent peril, and discovering who she was, rushed rapidly to her assistance. Just as she had lost her balance, and was in the act of falling, he caught her, breathless and colorless, in his arms, thus saving her from inevitable destruction. The horse, at the same time springing forward, dashed furiously up the street. Col. Braintree had hurriedly dismounted, and was making every effort in his power to assist in saving her, but was not so fortunate as our Thom. Luly had not fainted, as many a lady under such cir- cumstances would have done, but as soon as she found she was safely on her feet, and that Mr. Claiborne was her deliverer, her little heart pit-a-patted with a fervor of feeling she was not willing to display. The emotion was one hard to describe or to realize, although gratitude was ■one of its elements. Our Thom was merely a passing acquaintance of the morning; she knew nothing of him or his feelings. The sight of him again, under such circumstances, made her cheeks tingle. She had been undoubtedly greatly frightened, and been rescued from severe impending danger. Gratitude of no ordinary strength was awakened, and she ardently de- sired to give expression to her thanks. But words for utterance she had none. Slie could only hold out her little trembling hand. After a while, Avith blood rush- ing to cheek and brow, she said : " I thank you, Mr. Claiborne, from the bottom of my heart, for your timely aid. I am not hurt in the least; only frightened out of my wits." Col Braintree came up and said, " Permit me, sir, to MRS. INGLEDON COL. BRAINTREE MR. CLAIBORJSTE. 353 unite with Miss Ingledon. We both owe you many thanks. But for you, she would certainly have had a severe fall. I shall l)e happy to make your acquaintance." " Col. Braintree," said Miss Ingledon, " this is Mr. Claiborne." Our Thom said, " It has afforded me great pleasure to have been of service to you. Colonel, I have only done what you or any gentleman would liave done, if you had been near, — to give the assistance I was lucky enough to render. I reciprocate your desire for a better acquaint- ance." The whole affair occupied only a few moments, but the occasion had immediately gathered a consideralile crowd, who pressed forward eagerly to ascertain the identity of the lady, and the extent of the injury, if any had been sustained. The horse had been caught and was brought back ; but manifestly it was not proper for Miss Ingledon again to attempt the ride home. She insisted upon walking, but Col. Braintree stoutly maintained he could not permit it, as his carriage, which was kept at the Swan Tavern, would be ready in a few minutes. Our Thom coinciding in the opinion that it would be better for her to ride, she con- sented, withdrawing, meanwhile, from the midst of the crowd to the parlor of the Swan. As they went into the tavern, Col, Braintree's coach- man, dressed in full livery — blue coat and buff collar and cuffs, broad gold-laced band around his hat, and buckskin gloves — came from the stable. Walking up to a gentle- man in the crowd, with knowing look and self-importance, plainly denoting " I belongs to the Braintrees, I does," said: "Now, Master, when Mass Bob tole me to saddle up Roanoke witli a side-saddle, and dat I might put his saddle on Stanhope, I shuck my head, I did; caze how tho' Roanoke is a gentle horse like, yet when he gits in 354 THE TWO PARSONS. his tantrims, I can hardly sot him myself. Thinks I, ef dat horse gnine whirl round, and kick up, and rar and pitch, dar aint no ooman on de yarth giiine keep on him. But de young lady dun all she could ; I never hearn her hollow narer time. She's spunky, she is. Now, ef Roanoke begins wid Mass Bob, he socks de rowels onto him, and it 's no child's play den. Boanoke knows who 's who ; he know ladies don't wear no rowels. Look ahere now, dats a new saddle and new girth, and I zamined de buckle myself, and was monstrous purticilar; but you see, de tongue done pull out o' de buckle, and, in course, dar wan't no chance." Col. Braintree appeared at the door. Seeing his ser- vant in charge of the horses, said, in a commanding tone, " I say, Cyrus, take in those horses, and bring out the coach as soon as possible." " Yes, master, I gwine," said Cy., raising his hat. " Be quick, then." " I know'd what was coming," soliloquized Cy. " In course she aint gwine to ride Boanoke again. But you'll be safe enough now, honey, when dis child handles dem reins." In a very short time the wide double gate of the stable yard was thrown open. Cyrus, mo\inted on his high ex- pansive seat, with buff hammock cloth trimmed with gold lace, proudly managing his four-in-hand, came smoothly rolling along, scarcely making a rumbling noise, every- thing perfectly new, just imported from England express- ly for the Colonel. The coach was elegantly finished ; inside linings and cushions all of buff cassimere ; mould- ings and iron facings, inside and out, of the best silver- plate, with the most expensive harness, plated to corre- spond. The footman in livery, the counterpart of the driver, standing on the seat behind, supported himself by the buff-lined straps. Cyrus understood what he was MRS. INGLEDON COL. BRAINTKEE MR. CLAIBORNE, 355 about. As he made the circle he gave a sharp crack with his long whip, bringing the leaders prancing to the side walk, and reined them in as easily as he would have con- trolled a child, until tliey stood proudly pawing at the door. The footman immediately dismounted, and pass- ing into the parlor, hat in hand, accosted the Colonel : " Mass Braintree, de coach done ready, sah." " Very well," said the Colonel, waving his hand. Then offering it to- Miss Ingledon, she was escorted by Thorn and him- self to the carriage. The Colonel seated himself by her side, -when, turning, she said, very sweetlj', " Mr. Clair- borne, my mother will wish to thank you at her own house." " And I," added the Colonel, " hope to meet you again." The door was closed, and the stately coach driven grandly away. Our Thom sauntered back into the porch. Taking his former seat on the old bench, he re- clined, with head supported on hand, arm raised on elbow, and soliloquized with himself after this fashion, " She was near having a terrible fall, and I was just in time. If her little heart didn't thump when I caught her in my arms, then I am no judge of thumping. Braintree is a gentleman, though, and can run his genealogical tree up through the best families here, and then up, up, up through the British peerage to Jupiter Amnion, or any other Jupiter that might have previously existed. But what of that ? I can run back certainly to Noah, and then it is an easy matter to trace back to Adam ; and we all come from the same stock, therefore, and are even on that score. " Now, the Colonel is confounded rich, and I am con- founded poor ; that makes a confounded difference be- tween us. A poor man, unless he is a fortune hunter, feels so contemptible in his own eyes when accused of courting an heiress for her money. But for these things I'd call a new deal and shuffle, and cut him out of the •356 THE TWO PARSONS. ring. Such things have been done," and smiling at liim- self, he added, " It is in my mind, and I have a great mind to do it. When I was a boy, and was guilty of some peccadillo, my good father used to say, ' Thom, I have a great mind to whip you, sir,' and then, after paus- ing for a second thought, he would say again, ' It is a pity to spoil a great mind, and I will give it to you,' and die kept his word." ^ CHAPTEK XXIII. PAKSON BLAIR'S SNACK.— CHANCELLOR WYTHE. /~^ EORGE WYTHE, one of the signers of the De- xSJT claration of Independence, had removed to Rich- mond from the old city of WiUiamsburg, and was Chan- cellor of the State at this time. He lived in an old two- story framed honse immediately in the rear of that large tulip poplar tree at the corner of Grace and Fifth streets, on the handsome lot where Mr. Abraham Warwick for- merly resided. He had been intimate with John Blair, who had been president of William and Mary College when he was professor of law, and in consequence of that intimacy sought out our good Parson, John D. Blair, and delighted in his society and friendship, and through his means became equally intimate with Parson Buchanan. They soon became congenial companions and spent many happy hoars together, sometimes sitting in the yard under the shade of the poplar, reading the Greek and Latin poets together in the originals, and at other times dis- cussing questions suggested by Eurypides, Sophocles or Homer. Old Mr. Burwell Bassett, who for many years subse- quently represented the Williamsburg district in the Con- gress of the United States, and was a warm and intimate friend of the Chancellor, sent him a present of a large basket of fresh crabs, packed in ice, to keep, as he said, the kindly regard which each had entertained for the other fresh in their memories. The Chancellor sent the greater portion of them to his 358 THE TWO PARSONS. friend, Parson Blair, and then meeting Parson Buch- anan, as he was on. his way to court, told him he had better drop in, for Parson Blair had sent a note asking him to come and partake of crabs at twelve o'clock, which, on account of his engagement, he was compelled to de- cline. Parson Blair forthwith dispatched the following note to Mr. Munford, wdiich was intended for himself and his brother-in-law, Mr. William Padford: "Dear Sir: " Come over at twelve, And in a crab delve. And put by your books of the law ; "Without reading about it, I can give you, don't doubt it, A very substantial good clavi. Could I get a word pat in, ■ In English or Latin, About .my friend William, — Pd get you to tell him, I have crabs only two ; But if he'll come with you, I'll give him 'his fairin',' In a charming ' broiled herrin',' "J. D. B." Without a poetical answer all the amusement would have been lost; therefore Mr. Munford returns the fol- lowing card: "De^r Sir : "Your Pev'rence is good, Both in doctrine and food. And in neither is ever deficient; I'ABSON BLAIR'b SNACK CHANCEI,LOR WYTHE, 359 Yet two crabs for three, Yourself will agree, Can hardly be counted sufficient. "But so often you joke, Your intention I smoke, 'Twas only with more to surprise us ; And if they should fall short. You would well make up for 't, For your wit of itself satisfies us : " Your wit without fault. With choice Attic salt. We'll relish far more than a herring; So William and I From dull law books will fly. Our sorrows with you to be burying. " " W. M." Mr. Radford, in recurring to the pleasantries of Parson Blair, said that, to amuse the Parson, upon the reception of this invitation he wrote a few lines of rhyme — the first and last attempt of the kind lie had ever made. They ran thus : " Dear Sir : "Mr. Munford has just answered your note, Addressed to us both, and so cleverly wrote; For Mdiich we indeed must allow you great merit. And as for the fare, soon together we'll share it, "When I read it at first I was greatly perplex'd. And — cannot but say — was very much vex'd ; For against herrings I have an unconquerable spite. While crabs I devour with the greatest delight. 360 THE TWO PARSONS. "But when I re-read and consulted your letter, I fonnd I was wrong, which suited much better ; For you mentioned the claw, not a word of the corpus,. As if to be eaten 'twas unfit as a porpoise. "The 'dead man,' I know, will oftentunes choke 'em, And mightily plague, and sometimes provoke 'enj ; So at last I concluded that this was the law : I'll eat the crab, and you eat the claw. " W. R" Parson Buchanan, as was his, habit, had been making his parochial and charitable visits in the neighborhood, and having seen the two friends we have mentioned wending their way to the Parsonage, put his cane under his arm and his hands behind him, and said to himself : "Some mischief is brewing; friend Munford don't leave his business this time of day for nothing." Bearing in mind what the Chancellor had told him, he knocked at the door, and Parson Blair opening, gave him the wel- come of " Well ! well ! What a nose he has ! Clio is nothing to him. He can smell a crab a mile or more. Now, what shall we do ? " appealing to his friends. " Here's brother Buchanan, just dropped in to share the corpus of that lone crab with Mr. Eadford. William," said he, addressing Mr. Radford, " you will have to stick to the herring." In a little while his daughter Betsy came in with a nice broiled herring in a plate, with a cracker or two, and two fine crabs in another plate, and set them down on the table, which was still in its place since breakfast. Then running up to Parson Buchanan, she kissed him affec- tionately, and, shaking hands cordially with the other friends, said : " Now, cousin William, papa says the her- ring is for you ; one ci-ab for cousin Munford, and the PARSON BLAIr's SNACK CHANCELLOR WYTHE. 361 other for Mr. Buclianan, and papa will have to make out wdth the crackers." " Now," says Parson Blair, " you expected something more, I know ; but I sent you my bill of fare, and it is better and more bountiful than the dinner we obtained at Dr. McCaw's not long since." " What had you there ?" said Parson Buchanan. " Well, simply nothing," he replied. " Dr. McCaw had invited some friends to come and dine with him, but having been called off to visit a patient, and not sending to market in time, the butcher sold the lamb and veal and other things laid by for him, and he was compelled to send word to his intended guests that, for that day, his ' cake was all dough ;' upon which I sent him a remon- strance." Drawing from his pocket a small note, he read : " Well ! well ! well ! well ! and is it so, That all yonr ' cake is turned to dough V Then it has come to this at last, That, Parson-like, I'm left to fast ; But I must not of tliis repent. Because it seems it's time of Lent ; Yet still, as I'm not of the church That lives on catfish, shad, or perch. What need is there that I, a sinner. Should be so cheated of my dinner ? Were it ' all-fools-day,' I protest, I scarce could laugh at such a jest; But it appears the cause of all Arose from butcher Mettard's stall ; Who, by mistake, sold all the meat Intended for the guests to eat." " We had a dinner a few days after that was not to be 23 362 THE TWO PARSONS. sneezed at. Now, you see, my crabs and herrings are both in place ; so set to work and clean them out." At this there was a hearty laiigh^ and they began in good earnest. In a little while, however, old Faris came in and said, " Master, missis say you must bring the gem'men in the dining-room." When they repaired thither, the good wife welcomed them to a magnificent dish of crabs, all picked and baked in their own shells, steaming hot, with the best of butter, pepper, salt, and grated crackers, nicely browned, with many other nick-nacks, and a first-rate dish of fried perch. " Now," said she, " Mr. Blair has given you his snack in the other room; Betsy and I welcome you to ours here." A.S if it was all a surprise to him, he exclaimed, " Dear ! dear! This is better than Hiw crabs for three.'' ''^ " And I think, William, the perch are better than ' the charming broiled herring.' " Mr. Munford added, " and Mrs. Blair's cake is not ' all dough.' " Parson Buchanan said, "tliough he's not of the right church in keeping Lent, and couldn't get an}^ catfish or shad, he is very happy at having a nice dish of perch." " Well," said Parson Blair, " I've always heard it said that fish and crabs should swim three times: 'First in water, next in butter, then in wine.' As we have no wine, the next best substitute I know of is a glass of 'fun,' sipped all round, after the old style. Brother Buchanan, I have a little more of friend Mutter's old cogniac left, and I'll brew you something to keep the crabs from kicking." He made a tumbler of "fun," of which each having taken a mouthful, they adjourned to the next room, fully content with the repast. " Now," said Parson Blair, " I am going to give you a PARSON BLAIr's SNACK CHANCELLOR WYTHE. 363 history of the perch and the crabs. My sons went to the river this morning, and had fine sport catching the perch in the falls. They say the fishermen, with their skimming nets, were very successful catching the finest shad. I have seen them passing through the streets with hundreds, strung upon their boat poles, and selling them as low as ten cents for the best. No man, woman or child, need want when such fish are sold at this price ; and they sell still lower by the quantity. For the crabs I am indebted to our old friend. Chancellor Wythe. He sent me a large basket full this morning, with a kind note, saying they were a present to him from Mr. Bassett, in Williamsburg. So you see we had our dinner fur- nished by Him who feeds the sparrows and the ravens." Parson Buchanan added, " I did not let on, l)ut the Chancellor told me he had sent them, and that is the reason my nose was so sharp." Mr. Munford said : " Chancellor Wythe is the best friend I ever had, and one of tlic most remarkable men I ever knew, and he certainly has been as kind to me as a father. For what I know of Greek, Spanish, and Ital- ian I am indebted to him. When my father died, leav- ing his estate somewhat embarrassed with debt, I was attendino; the o-rammar school attached to the old colleore of William and Mary, and Mr. Wythe was then Professor of Law. My mother wrote that she feared her circum- stances would not permit me to return to college. Mr. Wythe sent her immediately one of his kindest letters, saying she must not think of stopping my education ; that he would take me into his own family, and give me such instruction as he could bestow, either personally or by paying the professor's fees. He had taken a fancy to me, and he said he greatly desired that she would comply with this request. From that time for three years, at all spare moments, he devoted himself without 364 THE TWO PAESOKS. reward to my instruction, giving me the best and most excellent advice, and imparting knowledge which I never could have acquired otherwise. Subsequently he gave me the use of his law library, and instructed me in the course pursued by himself in studying law, saying, ' Don't skim it ; read deeply, and ponder wliat you read ; they begin to make lawyers now without the vigiuti annorum lucubrationes of Lord Coke; thev are mere skimmers of law, and know little else.' Old as he is, his habit is,. every morning, winter and summer, to rise before the sun, go to the well in the yard, draw several buckets of water, and fill the reservoir for his shower-bath, and then drawling the cord, let the cold water fall over him in a glorious shower. Many a time have I heard him catching his breath and almost shouting with the shock. When he entered the breakfast room his face would be in a glow, and all his nerves were fully braced. Only a few days ago, when I called upon him he was teaching him- self Hebrew, studying closely with grammar and diction- ary, and once a week a Jewish rabbi by the name of Seixas attends him, to see how he progresses and to give him advice. He still shows me every kindness, and wel- comes me as one of his warmest friends. Many a kind note have I received from him since he removed to Rich- mond, with Greek, Latin, or Spanish sentences inter- spersed, for he evidently takes much pleasure in writing in those languages. I should indeed be ungrateful if I did not acknowledge my indebtedness to him ; and though he is in no manner connected with me by blood, I have, as you know, Mr. Blair, called my oldest son by his name, in memory of his attachment to me and my devotion to him. No remuneration would he ever accept, either for board or tuition, from my mother or myself." " And besides all that," said Parson Blair, " he does, not forget me, as you can now testify." PAKSON BLAIr's SNACK CHANCELLOR WYTHE. 365 " Kor does he forget the poor," said Parson Buchanan, " as I have had occasion to know ; for more than once he has enclosed money to me in a note, simply containing the request, ' Please devote the enclosed to such charity as you may think deserving.' Such a man is entitled to the popularity he has so richly earned." They thus continued in their usual pleasantries, until " Phoebus ayont the western hills had just retired." They then returned home, delighted with their pleasant reunion. CHAPTER XXiy. MRS. INGLEDON AND HER DAUGHTER.— A PARLOR LEC- TURE.— COL. BRAINTREE AND MISS LULY.— OUR THOM AND LITTLE LULY. WE find Mrs. Ingiedon and her danghter, Lnly, seated pleasantly enough, but not exactly in a pleasant mood, something evidently having gone wrong between them. Disagreeable sensations are aroused on such occa- sions, and make one feel uncomfortable. It was at their own home, in their own parlor, where, surrounded by every comfort and elegance that fashion required and money could procure, one miglit have supposed that there was harmony and perfect accord between mother and daughter. They were sw^eet tempered, mild in disposi- tion, and devoted to each other. In most things the word of the mother was sufficient to have ensured a full compliance, and this would have been given with cheer- fulness and alacrity. There is one subject, however, up- on which old and young do not think alike ; and when Cupid flutters around the young heart, he avoids the old ones, and not unfrequently throws a very delicate film over the youthful eyes. This prevents them from seeing in the same light with the old folks, who, wearing fine gold spectacles, that suit them and enable them to see comfortably, think it impossible that they can be mistaken in their vision. Now, Mrs. Ingiedon had this only daughter, who was in every respect her pet and darling, her companion and MBS. INGLEDON AND HER DAUGHTER. 36 T solace. She had brought her up with the tenderest care, had nurtured and cultivated her mind as higlily as her tender years would allow, and as she bloomed into woman- hood she had endeavored to train and adorn her, and had lavished indulgences which would have made most chil- dren vain and extravagant. In spite of this, her daughter remained gentle and obedient, though she did not hesitate to speak her sentiments freely in her mother's presence. Thus the current of their lives had run on smoothly and pleasantly together, and the falling or rising of an oppos- ing tide agitated the smooth surface, and produced break- ers that could not be counteracted with light or gentle breezes. Her mother was at all times remarkable for dignity of manner, for urbanity and courtesy towards others, for the slow and measured enunciation of her sentences, and for the deference paid to the wishes of her daughter. There w^as just a little air of stiffness and formality about her, which, while it prevented easy intimacy, was neither un- pleasant nor forbidding. The daughter, on the contrary, was playful, ingratiating, accessible, and fascinating. Her black eyes sparkled when animated by excitement. Op- position seemed to arouse the independent spirit in her bosom, which generally lay slumbering in repose. Mrs. Ingledon recommenced the conversation, in which there had been a disagreeable pause. "My dear, there has been heretofore such entire con- fidence between us that I cannot but regret that anything should occur to interrupt it for a moment. The truth is, you seem to have avoided me of late, and to be disin- clined to afford me an opportunity to give you the slightest admonition or advice. Why should my desire to gain for you an eligible match produce estrangement between us? It gives me pleasure to anticipate your future happiness, and I am sure such an alliance leads me 308 THK TWO PARSONS. to expect a realization of my liigliest hopes. And yet, if I mention tlie Colonel's name, yon not only seem inclined to treat him with disrespect, bnt will scarcely listen Avith composnre to your own mother. Yon are fnlly aware of Col. ih'aintree's intentions. A man of his character and position is not to be expected to be dilly-dallying with a young girl for months or years, like the whipper-snappers of the present day. He makes a formal proposal to her mother, and expects a graceful acceptance, or at least per- mission to pay the necessary attention and addresses to the daughter, and then not to be detained an unreason- able time, in trutli, he has already approached me upon the subject, and 1 think you know that your acquiescence M'ill give me r.nalloyed pleasure."" "Now, mother," she said in a playful tone, "Must I go into the parlor, and say, 'Col. Braintree, my motlier saj'S you made her a formal proposal. I am so glad to hear it. Do, Colonel, say the sweetest, softest little things to her in the world? I should so like to call you Pa, and would make you such a nice daughter. I give you unqualitied permission to pay the necessary attention and addresses. Do, Colonel, approach her on the sub- ject without unreasonable delay? But I cannot answer for the result! For she is a little cross sometimes.' " Then throwing ber arms around her mother's neck, she said : " This will do for the present.'' The politic mother burst into tears. "Must 1 marry a man whether I love him or not?" said the daughter. Her dark eyes twinkled, and a slight tear moistened the long lashes. It was just that moisture of the eye whicli wells up from generous emotion and makes it glisten. "Must I sit in my chair and say, 'lam ready to be courted. Come, court me.' I would be wooed after a different fashion from that. Tt is not natural." At this MRS. INGLEDON AND HER DAUGHTER. 369 point the conversation was abruptly brought to a close by the young lady's quick ear detecting the stopping of a carriage, and a double rap from the large brass knocker on the door assured both mother and daughter that the latter was not mistaken. The knocker was responded to by uncle Csesar, usher- ing Col. Braintree into the hall. Mrs. Ingledon swept out of the room with stateliness at the side door. Her daughter remained, endeavoring to appear to be arrang- ing flowers in a vase on a side table, and as she did so she said to herself, " I will try whether he has any soul or not. I'll meet him kindly — yes, I'll meet him more than half way." "Good morning, Miss Ingledon," said the Colonel, making a respectful bow as he entered the room. She had regained her self-possession and playfulness. " 'Miss Ingledon,' indeed ! " sweeping backward with a very disimgue courtesy. " Why don't you call me Lucy ? or, better still, Luly ? and it would have gone nearer the heart to have said, little Lute." (Offering her hand as she spoke.) He took the proifered hand deferentially, escorted her to the seat she had just occupied, and seated himself by her side. " If you like to be called Lute, or Luly," — he omitted "little Lute," — "of course I will call you so." His voice didn't sound like the concession came gushing from the heart. He might have said, in addition, "I thought Miss Ingledon was the sweetest term I could use." But he said, " I do not fancy nicknames, and I should not like to hear my wife called 'Lute' by every- body." There is nothing sweeter to a young married woman than to hear her husband call her his " wife." The term applied even problematically by the lover before engage- .ment shocks her sensibilities. 370 THE TWO PARSONS. a i Bj everybody,'" she said. " No, not 'everybody.'' There is a fitness of things. I heard an old gentleman, say, some time ago, it made the tear start to his eye when an old college-mate, a room-fellow, whom he had not seen for fifty years, accosted him with, ' I say, Bob.' ' I had not heard it,' he said, ' since I was a boy, and it renewed all the pleasant memories of my youth.' 'Everybody,'" she said, "would not have the right to call Col. Brain- tree's wife, if ho were married, 'Lute'; but Col. Brain- tree himself might consider it a term of endearment. I confess I am wrong," she added, "for I could not bring myself to say to Col. Braintree, 'How are you, Bob?' It would sound as if I were calling a negro ; it might indicate want of respect ; it might seem as if I desired to detract from his dignity. And yet, if Col. Braintree were married, and his wife were to say 'Roberty Bob," he might answer ' Yes, honey,' ' No, darling,' and it might not be v^ery unpleasant to his ears." Here was another opportunity, but it was not embraced.^ She alluded to what Col. Braintree's wife might do, to terms of endearment, and the pleasantries of old friend- ships; but the ice did not thaw. It kept on gathering. She began to be ready and anxious for regular sparring. She had met him more than half way. He was in a mood for business, and came for the very purpose. He drew from his pocket a magnificent gold snuff- box, and with a good deal of formality rapped it two or three times, took a small pinch, and then proceeded deli- berately, like a man of business. When a girl's mind has been nettled it is not very ad- visable to try the effect of an additional supply of net- tles. She reclined back in her cliair and prepared for defence. " Were you alone. Miss Lute, when I came into the hall ? " He ventured upon the Lute at last, but it came MRS. INGLEDON AND HER DAUGHTER. 371 too late; and then he placed the ^^Jliss^'' before it. A small expletive like that, under the circumstances, grated harshly, and the tone was not affectionate. "As I opened the door I thought I heard the rustle of your mother's silk as she retired." The ghosts of departed admonitions and unpleasant reflections came flitting before lier. The attractive electricity was gone, and the repulsive battery alone remained. She was ready for a regular sparring. "Yes, it was mother." "Did she say anything about our affairs ?" he said. " Our affairs ? Mother said you asked permission, and all that sort of thing, to make proposals and so forth, and the permission was granted." The Colonel thought to himself, as Mr. ^Nelson did, " She's a curer." He took his chair and rolled it a little closer. He began to be interested ; this was something un- usual. He commenced in a softened tone, unfolding his plans. His fondest hopes for a happy life depencled upon her. He spoke of his home and his loneliness there; dilated upon his possessions; his family mansion and its parterre of flowers and shrubs ; of the number of his slaves; the profltable crops they raised, and the glitter- ing array of coaches and horses. These and all he had should be hers. We must do the Colonel justice. He said all that a cold calculating man could say, tempting with evergreens and gorgeous landscapes, luxurious crops and golden har- vests. He embellished them to look like apples of gold in pictures of silver, with all that wealth could purchase or intellect portray. But he lacked the heart, the delicate way of making it attractive. It wanted the charm of being discerned without the parade of exhibition. The exhibition had the appearance of bargain and sale. In the mood in which she then was, she preferred love in a cottage with one she had seen, to the wealth of Crcesus 372 THE TWO PARSONS. with a heart not in sympathy with her own. She sat silent, and seemed musing rather than attentive as he pro- gressed. At length rousing herself, she said "Ah! Col- onel, wealth will not satisfy me. I do not crave it. I ask for congeniality of feeling; for aifection, and there must be love. It has not been nwakened in my heart by anything you have said. It is not right to marry without love." He softened more and more his tone and expression. "Kindness, you know, warms the heart. The warm heart will come by-and-by." " Marry for money," she said ; " young enough to wait for love ; is that the idea ?" She had in her heart to say sharp things, but her mother's earnestness, her tears, evi- dent deep distress, and frequent repetitions of the desire for her to accept Col. Braintree, made her pause. She knew her refusal would give her mother unalloyed pain. She looked up in his face and assumed her natural play- fulness. " Look here, young gentleman, you do not know what mother says about you. She commends you for liberal- ity and generosity, for descent from a long line of gen- tlemen, a man of talents, beloved by your neighbors, re- spected by your countrymen, steady in habits, sociable and friendly, of fine taste and cultivation. And you, you know, are like the old boy ; you have placed me upon the very pinnacle of greatness, and spread out before my fascinated eyes a panorama of broad possessions ; the fine old ancestral hall, embowered in shade and surrounded by the very spices of Araby. We are to have obedient .slaves, bowing the knee and spreading velvets for our feet to walk from the fairy coach over the marble pav^e- ments to the gilded rooms. We are to have fountains playing and flowers growing, exotics glistening, and — ■what else ? — any thing else ? Yes, little Cupid flying out MBS. INGLEDON AND HER DAUGHTER. 373 of the window, leaving all these attractions without a soul to enjoy them. Have I stated it fairly, old boy ? I can't, indeed I can't. Your fondest hopes of a happy life depend upon me ! My fondest hopes will not be re- alized unless little Cupid, who flew out of the window,, can be enticed back again. I think he has gone." " We will bring him back," he said. " It can't be done." She put her fingers on her pulse, shook her head gravely. " Pulse too calm ; not a flutter. Reason too composed. I tell you he's gone. Let us talk about something else." He was posed. Could not strike a bargain. Did not know what to say. " I'll come again," he said. " You'll change your mind. You are just trying me. It will all be right. I'll leave you. Come, give me your hand, and let us make peace." She extended her little hand. " I don't give it." He's gone. Li a few minutes his coach and four are far away. She sat musing. Scenes like this wdien they occur are certain to give pain to a sensitive mind. She said, "I could not do otherwise and preserve my self-respect. I would like to gratify mother, but I shudder to take this step." How long she would have continued in this mood we cannot say. Some half hour had elapsed, when a cheer- ful rat-tat-tat at the knocker announced a visitor, and Caesar's footsteps were heard answering the summons. A little hand rapidly pushed back one of the chairs to its position. A tall young gentleman was seen through the crack of the door, and a little fluttering heart ran out by the way her mother had disappeared. The tall young gentleman was ushered into the parlor. Turning to Ceesar, "Say to your young mistress, Mr- Claiborne has called to pay his respects." 374 ' THE TWO PARSONS. "Take a seat," said Cnesar, with unaiTected politeness. " Claiborne ! " said Caesar to himself, " Claiborne ? Old master and Mr. Claiborne of Hanover used to be down dare at Mars Braxton's togetlier." Xow, while the young lady is bathing her face with refreshing water and smoothing her raven locks, examin- ing her looks in the mirror, and culling from a vase on her toilet table two of the choicest and sweetest rose- buds and a sprig of geranium, and adjusting them in her dark hair, the young gentleman was surveying the neat room into which he had been introduced. We have said heretofore that our Thom was always genteel; but on this occasion he was gotten up simply and neatly, and, with his usual well brushed accompani- ments, had on a pair of new French fair top-boots, fitting to perfection. He was truly a handsome fellow; best of all, lie did not seem to know it, and certainly was uncon- scious of his dress, and perfectly at ease. Around the room hung the "'Cartoons of Raphael," over the mantle "The Crucifixion;" on tlie sides, two exquisitely gilded globe mirrors, with dragons, and an angel with outspread wings hovering above. In the back of the room, a grand piano, with a rich maroon velvet coverlet and broad gold border, handsome maroon cur- tains and chairs to match, and an elegant turkey carpet of exquisite pattern on the floor. On the tables, a beau- tifuU}' bound Bible and Prayer Book, and other books with fine engravings. All this our Tliom took in as he sauntered around, and before he had the opportunity to take a second survey our Luly came tripping into his presence, as gentle as a dove, and fresh as Aurora on a lovely May morn. " Glad to see you, Mr. Claiborne," and she reached out her little delicate hand. He met her with both hands, and said in his most MRS. INGLEDON AND HER DAUGHTER. 375 pleasant tone and manner, "Then there are two of us glad. Happy to find yon so bright this balmy day. Hiding and tumbling from horses seems to agree with you. Suppose old Cy. has not saddled Roanoke for you again ! Try Stanhope next time. They are a pair of fine horses, but you haven't the strength to manage them.'' "Ah!" she said, "we have cause to thank you for your timely assistance." "I hope," he said, "you will have better luck the next time you try it. Some of these fine evenings you may, perhaps, be persuaded to take a canter with me. But if all I hear is true, you will have other fish to fry. I heard from one of your intimate friends, that somebody is going to be married soon," and his look intimated who " the somebody " was. The blush of the roses in her hair seemed to spread over her cheek, and their loveliest tint was rivalled there • but the warmth of the young blood cooled in a moment and the delicately tinged lily was left in its place. " Somebody!" she said. "The world is a wide one, and there are not many minutes in which somebody is not marrying or being given in marriage." "Ah, but wlien I asked your friend, 'who is the some- body?' she made it plain enough by saying 'Lulv,' and his name begins with a B. I have no idea that you can divine whose name begins with a B. "Were I to ask you directly, you might say :" 'Amang the train there is a swain, I dearly lo'e mysel'. But what his name, or where his liame, I dinna care to tell.' " Going to be married ?" I said, " why, we haven't had 376 THE TWO PARSONS. a chance to look at her yet. It is like locking a diamond in a casket and hiding the kej." " You are poetical and very complimentary this morn- ing, Mr. Claiborne. I might use your poetry and make a different application of it. Some of our friends are not so sure in their calculations as they suppose. The dia- mond you allude to is not locked up yet; yonng lasses sometimes are queer little l)odies, and do not act always as people imagine. Two of my friends not long since declared they would sooner die than marry men whose names were those of animals, and yet one married a Wolf and the other a Fox. My friends think I will marry a Bee. I rather think I shall prefer another letter of the alphabet. I was taught my A, B, C's sometime ago." "And yet," said our Tiiom, "the circumstantial evi- dence is very strong. Your friend seemed positive, and said she had it from headquarters." " Headquarters sometimes send a column to the right as a sham when they intend to attack the left. There is nothing certain in human affairs ; yet, whatever else may happen, that will never be a B. You may tell your friends that you have been authorized by headquarters to contradict such assertions." " Shall I say little Luhj said so ? " and there was some- thing very soft in his way of saying " little Luly." He looked her in the face, and when their eyes met there- was a heartquake, and both eyes fell in a twinkling. (Did you ever feel one of these heartqnakes ? They are not easily forgotten.) "1 like," he said, "these pet names. Petting and being petted has always been ex- ceedingly pleasant." He was making an effort to recover from that glance ; he was afraid to trust himself. " There is a difference between the sexes, I believe," he said, " in the use of such terms when they are in love. A warm-hearted man delights in calling the one he loves by MRS. INGLEDOJSr AND HER DAUGHTER. 377 some pet name; sometimes the name itself is not very sweet, but the manner gives the charm. A lady, on the contrary, as soon as she feels that her heart is enlisted in a gentleman's favor, though she may have called him by his Christian name before, will immediately change it to his title, or she will Mister him. This is one of the signs of the discovery of her feelings, and she is afraid to be too familiar." " You are a close observer," she said. Neither of them ventured to take another glance, but the seed began to germinate. " I am compelled," he said, " to pay a fashionable call. We poor clerks haven't the time to spare in the morn- ings." " Come ia the evenings, then. We will try to amuse yon, and I'll introduce you to the belles. Are you fond of flowers ? Take these buds as a memento from me of your having saved my life," and she gracefully presented them. He placed them in the button-hole of the lappel nearest the heart, and bade her a pleasant adieu. There are men whose self-love and high appreciation of their own excellences render it impossible for them to believe that any lady can resist their continued impor- tunities. They cannot be induced to believe that they are not worthy of being beloved ; they imagine there is only some slight obstacle in their path, which, when as- certained, can be easily removed, and they coolly com- mence a regular siege, a refusal to surrender being a mere matter of moofishine. They act upon the principle that money is the key that opens all things to its possessor. They have no idea of the power of resistance which high principles, deeply imbedded in the human heart, can bring against the seductions and glitter of wealth. They have not the slightest conception of the fortifications 24 378 THE TWO PAKSONS. which Cnpid can throw around a heart which has looked into another heart, when the electric spark of sympa- thetic love has flashed between the two. Col. Braintree was one of those who had reasoned him- self into the belief that a very young girl could not easily forego the temptations that might be thrown into her path b}^ continued allurements of parade, pride, ambition, and the fascination of flattering attention. He believed that, if she were suddenly thrown into a gay circle of delight- ful society, courted and caressed by himself, and praised and deified by his friends, she would become desirous of continually shining in such a firmament, and would crave the opportunity to prolong its dm*ation. He accordingly set his triggers, and, like a bird-catcher behind a blind, kept himself out of sight while the bait and the attractions were thrown artfully in view. He induced his old friend, Lady Skipwith, to send an invitation to Mrs. Ingledon to pay her a visit and bring her daughter with her. Mrs. Ingledon was yet ignorant of the untoward interview which had taken place between Luly and the Colonel. She thought if slie could only remove her daughter from the ncM^ attraction which she began to fear might inter- vene between her own cherished hopes and their fruition, that she must prevail in tlie end. The least thought of the possibility of her child, the offspring of the Ingle- dons, the high-born descendants of the noblesse of old England, uniting with a " Clay-born," as she pronounced it, a nobody, embittered lier days, and hung like a pall upon sleepless lids in troubled nights. She was, therefore, pondering in her mfhd whither she should go, and how to afl^ect her object, and she hailed with pleasure Lady Skipwith's invitation, and said, " We will go into Col. Braintree's neighborhood." Luly, on the contrary, felt calm and composed. She had thrown off a weight which had become intolerable. MRS. INGLEDON AND HER DAUGHTER. 379 Her mind regained its elasticity, and she could have played with another Simon without the least compunc- tion. She felt there was one man with whom she could not play. She could not see him at a distance ; she could not hear his name mentioned without a palpitation which w^as not to be trifled with. Where was that man ? Why had he not called to see her again ? Col. Braintree and Mr. Claiborne were boardino- in the same house. The rumors of his engagement with Miss Ingledon were still rife throughout the city. Mr. Clai- borne had bantered the Colonel about the engagement. In a laughing way he admitted that he had asked her to give him her hand, and she had extended it to him. He said, also, her mother was going in a day or two into his neighborhood, and he believed all things would then be arranged to his satisfaction. Mr. Claiborne began to be anxious. He called and knocked at the old brass knocker. Ci^esar opened the door. " Mars Thorn, Miss Luly has gone out visiting this morning." " Tell her, Caesar," said Thom, " that I called. I will call again this evening." As soon as the door was closed, Mrs. Ingledon, who was near enough to hear the message, said, " You will tell her no such thing. She is going to spend the even- ing out." And she gave her head a consequential toss. As C^sar went along, we heard him say, " Umph-oo ! Missus done put on specs. I believe she gwine lock de door. Ef dey wants to, dey will get together, no matter how many keys you totes. I done see it. She ain't gwine to marry no Braintree. Young doves flies away from old hawks, dey does." When Thom called in the evening, Caesar met him as an old friend. " Misses says, Mars Thom, Miss Luly has gone to spend the evening out." CHAPTER XXV. THE GENEALOGY OF THE BRAINTKEES, AND THE AR- RANGEMENTS FOR COL. BRAINTREE'S WEDDING. IN our last chapter we left our young friends in the act of separating, each with a fluttering heart, the flutter only known to itself, suspected, it is true, as to the other, and apparently a few flowers constituting the link in the chain, that seems to be forging for them. There are,, however, old scores to be settled ; flames to be kindled or extinguished ; contracts to be adhered to or violated ; feelings to be composed ; complications among relatives and friends to be settled, that seem to baflie ingenuity in. adjustment. Our friends are not so insigniflcant as not to attract the attention of the gay monde, and are too attractive not to become the subject of conversation in the circle in which they moved. Go where you would, you would find this prolific theme the subject of conversation. The visit of Mrs. Ingledon and her daughter to Lady Skipwith, so ingeniously contrived by Col. Braintree, had taken place, and the result of the visit was all that Mrs. Ingledon had anticipated or desired. The engagement of Miss Luly and the Colonel was a fixed fact. Sldlful generalship and artful manipulation had accomplished their designs, and everything seemed to portend an early wedding. We are going with Mrs. Ingledon to pay a morning visit at Mrs. Munford's. We find there the old friends of Mrs. Ingledon, Mrs. Blair and Mrs. Adams, cosily THE BEAINTREES. 381 seated Math their sister, Mrs. Radford, Mrs. Munford's mother. They have accidentally assembled with their work, to spend the day together, as was not unusual with these loving sisters and their niece. These ladies were just in the prime of life, and still showing in their cheerful countenances evidences of that beauty for which each had been distinguished in the bloom of girlhood. They met Mrs. Ingledon with grace- ful attention, and showed by their manner that her visit was not unwelcome. They were all devoted to each other, and when an opportunity presented itself indulged in all the playful banter of well understood familiarity, and laughed at the little peculiarities of each with per- fect good humor and affectionate regard. Sister Adams, or, as she was generally called, sister Peggy, was the most lively and full of fun, and usually took the lead in playfulness. To avoid idleness, each had brought with her such light work as afforded occupation without fa- tigue, and which could at any moment })e thrown aside without inconvenience. They were accustomed to visit- ing and receiving visitors, and so enjoyed the advantage of hearing and knowing the little incidents that were transpiring in the city. Having received fine educations, they possessed the faculty of entertaining others with much humor, and consequently their associates sought them with unaffected pleasure. Sister Rebecca (Mrs. Radford) had been engaged for a long time, at intervals, making a large and beautiful calico quilt, of small pieces, exhibiting a kaleidoscope pat- tern of brilliant colors and regular symmetry ; but the pieces were, not like ordinary patch-work, of scraps and odds and ends of material, but were all of the newest and handsomest patterns that could be procured. She had displayed her exquisite taste, both in colors and figures, and had worked out her design with patient perseverance. 382 THE TWO PARSONS. The rest were all employed in making some article either for ornament or use. " Dear me," said Mrs. Tngledon, " I feel ashamed of mjself to be caught in this sewing society with my hands before me perfectly idle. Rebecca, who are you making that beautiful quilt for ? It is certainly a perfect gem of a quilt." " My dear," said Mrs. Radford, " I began it for amuse- ment, but when I heard that your daughter was going to be married, I devoted myself to the work with more pleasure, intending it for her as a bridal present. It is hardly worth presenting to the wife of the rich Colonel Braintree; but as a token of friendship from her mother's old friend, perhaps she will prize it. I am giving it the finishing touches to-day." " Of course she will prize it," said Mrs. Ingledon, "and I thank you for her in advance. I cannot hesitate to say,, in this bevy of old acquaintances, how much satisfaction this connection with Col. Braintree has given me. Of course, Rebecca, you know that Luly will not be depen- dent on Col. Braintree, for she will have enough without his wealth ; but I have always thought that good blood and position in society were of great importance in keep- ing up family pre-eminence and ancestral renown. I have no idea of connecting myself with upstarts and par- venues." "Yes," says sister Peggy, "you are just like sister Blair. She harps upon her genealogical tree. She comes, you know, from the Earl of Essex, on the Winston side, and has the satisfaction of claiming for Mr. Blair, that he comes from Sir David Hunter Blair, on his side ; and but for one circumstance, we should have every reason to hold our heads high. The Bible tells us, you know, 'Though thou settest thy nest among the stars, thence will I bring thee down ;' and brother Jordan always tells THE BRAINTREES. 383 sister Blair that he Icnows that she is undoubtedly de- scended through one branch of the Winstons from uncle Jacky Bobby, and by the other side from uncle Dicky Baubee." "Don't you mind what brother Jordan says, nor ^\llat Peggy says either,*" said sister Blair, " I will stand up for my descent." " To be sure," said sister Peggy, " It is so fascinating, when two large fortunes am,algamate. Two piles of gold brought into contact have a magnifying influence upon the optics, and bring into bold relief the thousands of comforts and elegances that may be obtained. And one feels so aristocratic seated in a carriage and four, and has the felicity of smiling and bowing, and being smiled and bowed at, and being run after and courted by the worshippers of the double pile. I hope, though, Mrs. Ingledon, you will give us some information of the lin- eage of the Braintrees. I know the Ingledons are equal to anybody. And then sister Blair may be induced to tell us about the Earl of Essex." " Well, dear, as we are all together this morning, and our families are to be so shortly united, I have no objec- tion. The Braintrees, you know, are of great ancestral descent themselves, and Col. Braintree's mother was Caroline Berkeley, and of the Berkeleys, you remember ; Norborne Berkeley de Botetourt was governor of this colony before the Bevolution, and he was descended from William Berkeley, who was three times governor of the colony, runing back to 1G41. He was undoubtedly from Berkeley, Earl of Berkeley, Viscount Dursley, and Baron Berkeley, of Berkeley Castle, Gloucester County, England. I might trace it ba(}k indefinitely, but this will suffice. There is no bad blood there." Sister Peggy sat back in her chair, interlaced her 384 THE TWO PAKSONS. fingers and twirled her thumbs and said, ^^ Indeed P^ which encouraged the good mother to proceed. " Yes, dear ;" Maurice de Berlveley, who married Alice, daughter of Roger de Berkeley, was ." "My dear madam," interrupted Sister Peggy, "how do you remember all this genealogy?" " Why, it has descended to me, honey, as an heir-loom, and wishing to impress it upon Luly, I have treasured it in my memory. But she, poor thing, cares no more for Koger de Berkeley then she does for a cat. Besides, the coat of arms comes direct to the Ingiedons by this mar- riage between our families. And then they have that Christian motto, ' Dieii avec noits.'' " "The marriage will certainly take place at the ap- pointed time, then," said sister Rebecca. " There was a rumor that it might be postponed." " Postponed, indeed," said Mrs. Ingledon. " When the word of an Ingledon is pledged, there is no such thing as a retraxit. It is certain. We have heard this rumor. I hope you will contradict it by authority." "Then," said sister Blair, "there is' nothing in the Claiborne affair? I thought it very strange; for Mr. Blair said that he happened to be walking with Mr. Claiborne a very short time ago, and accidentally met Luly, and he then, for the first time, introduced the two together." "Mr. Claiborne!" she said, in a tone of unmitigated contempt, " a counter-hopper ! — presumption indeed ! The descendants of the Fitzhardinges, whose father was one of the companions of William the Conqueror, to come to that! Upon my word! what will not the world say next ?" "Indeed," said sister Peggy, "I know nothing about the rumors; but I think, except Mr. Claiborne's want of the large pile, he is a very worthy gentleman. But, THE BRAINTREES. 3S5 sister Blair, do give us our descent from the great Earl of Essex." " Yes," said Mrs. Ingledon, •' I know the blood, and I can see it cropping out in this verj room." " Come, aunt Blair," said Mrs. Munf ord, " you know my husband comes from the Beverleys and the Blands, and as we are referrmg to high connections, I want to be posted on my side of the house." "Well, Sally, the Blairs, honey, were descended from Sir David Hunter Blair, of Blairquhain, county of Ayr; paternally descended from the Hunters of Hunterston, and maternally from the very ancient house of Blair of Dunskey, a scion of Blair of Blair. Now, James Hunter married Jane, daughter and heir of John Blair of Dnns- key, who came from David, Earl of Cassilis, upon which occasion he assumed the additional surname of Blair; and these Blairs have been settled in the county of Ayr full six centuries. Their motto was a Christian motto, like yours, Lucj'," — addressing Mrs. Ingledon, — "'j1/;i(? probos^ Then, you see, one of James Hunter's sisters married George Forbes, the fifth Earl of Granard, and he married the foui-th daughter of William, third Earl of Essex; and this Earl of Essex was descended from Arthur Algernon Capel, Viscount Maiden, of the coun- ty of Essex, and Baron Capel of Hadham, Hertford county. And while there were the Capels on one side, there were the Coningsbys on the other, and an illus- trious line on both sides; and hence in the coat of arms you will find a lion rampant between three cross croslets for Capel, and three conies sejant in sih^er f or Coningsby. The supporters are two lions, ducall}^ crowned, and the motto '■Fide et Fortitudine^ " "My dear," said sister Peggy, "and do you, believe all that ? How suital)le to have a lion rampant in a chapel, -and the three old hares done up in silver, the most timid 386 THE TWO PARSONS. things on earth, to represent fortitudine, which I have heard brother Blair saj was 'bravery.' No wonder bro- ther Jordan should say, 'Beyond donl)t, we are descended from the Boobies and the Baubees, whether named Jacky or Dicky.' " " I do not claim any elevation of moral standing from this or any other descent," said sister Blair; "but I state- a fact. 'Beauty is as beauty does.' That is the motto of the Blairs now. And moreover, I do not feel any de- gradation from brother Jordan's nonsense." " But," said sister Peggy, " you have all been flourish- ing under the green bay trees of the Ingledons, the Braintrees, and the Berkeley s, of the Blairs and the Es- sexes, and the Beverleys and the Blands, I must tell you how brother Jordan traces our ancestral lineage. 'Peg- gy,' said he, ' this is all nonsense. You know that uncle Jacky Bobby was originally named John Roberts, be- longing to the grand order of Masons, from having been a pewterer in a small shop over the creek. For some reason, best known to himself, he desired to be hicog., and being a lively fellow, he declared that John and Jack were all the same, and it sounded better to his ears to have it Jacky; it was more affectionate, and toned it down a little.' Then, again, he would say, 'liobert is contracted into Bob ; but Bob was too short, he preferred the endearing epithet of Bobby, — only another vulgarism for Booby, — and so made it Jacky Bobby, or Booby. I intend,' said brother Jordan, 'after the stvle of the Ca- pels, who named one of their sons Beginald Bandolph Algernon Capel, to name my first born son Jacky Bobby Booby "Winston.' As sister Blair has given the whole genealogy of the Essexes, it was but just that brother Jordan's account of the Bobbys should be given in full. And thus," said sister Peggy, " putting both geneal- ogies together, as far as the testimony goes, I do not see- THE BRAINTREES. 387 but that sister Blair and myself are lineally descended on the one side from the great Earl of Essex, and on the other from that noble mason, John Roberts, and the Riglit Honorable Ricardo Ban bee, or Jacky Bobby and Dicky Bobby." A servant came in with a nice waiter of plumcake and a decanter of cherry bounce for lunch, and all our good sisters stopped the genealogies to attend to the creature-comforts spread before them. We have heard in a former chapter our little Luly's protest against the anti-candy regulation at the academy, and how she had terminated it with a hurrah for Parson Buchanan. When she was engaged to be married, and arrangements were being made for the wedding, she had made it a sme qua 7wn, that Parson Buchanan should perform the ceremony, and Parson Blair should assist him in any way that might be agreeable to both. This morning Parson Buchanan was seated at the win- dow in his office, near the north-east corner of Mayo's bridge, which he called his studio, and was enjoying the cool breeze from the river, when an elegant coach wa& driven to the door. A coach, silver-mounted, with gilded embroidered housings, drawn by four blooded bays, with an ebo coachman handling the ribbons, like a Nabob's darkey, and dressed in livery to correspond to the hous- ings of the coach, and a footman behind similarly capari- soned. In a moment a gentleman, with whom the Par- son was not acquainted, ordered the footman to see whether Mr. Buchanan was in, and being informed that he was, ushered himself into the room, announcing himself as Col. Robert Braintree, of the county of Mecklenburg- After a few common-place remarks, he said, " I presume, Mr. Buchanan, you have heard that I am about to be mar- ried to Miss Ingledon. I have called to request you to hold yourself in readiness to perform the ceremony. It is tO' 388 THE TWO PARSONS, take place on Thursday evening next, at her mother's re- sidence, at eight o'clock. The young lady has made the performance of the ceremony by you an ulthnatum ; and moreover, requests that you will bring with you her old preceptor. Parson Blair." With some formality, but much politeness, he added, " It would be gratifying to me for both of you to comply with her request." " Nothing will give me more pleasure, I am sure," said the Parson- " This is the sprightly lassie I became acquainted with at the academy under peculiar circumstances, which made a great impression upon me. If she wishes it, tell her I will tie a hymeneal knot which neither of you will be able easily to unloose." With this the Colonel handed a paper neatly folded, which he hoped the Parson wonld accept, remarking that perhaps they might not see ea(;h other again before the ceremony. While the Parson was making many protestations, he bade him good morning, and the carriage, which we have seen once before in these chapters, rolled smoothly away. Parson Buchanan, without opening the paper, unlocked his desk, and placed it in one of the inner drawers. " I have read," he said " of the man ' which built his house upon the sand !' I suppose, however, this clinches the nail ; and yet, Bessy Blair said Miss Ingledon positively asserted to her that this marriage would never take place. Tiiat's the reason, said the old bachelor, I have been afraid of young girls ; they don't know their own minds." We follow the coach in the grand rounds it is making this morning. It has stopped at a jeweller's on Main street. We enter casually to look around. "You sent me," said the Colonel, "a note this morning, informing me that the set of pearls I ordered from London had been forwarded to your address. I have called to see whether it will answer the purpose for which it is intended." The THE BRAINTREES. 389 package was produced, and when opened, exhibited a white velvet casket, lined with crimson, containing a lovely set of pearls, including spray, necklace, ear-rings, bracelets and brooch. The jeweller said, " I have rarely seen a more exquisite set;" and the Colonel, after a close inspection, remarked, " They will do. I want a plain gold ring also," and taking from his pocket a neatly wrapped paper, he said, "of this size." Thereupon, not desiring to intrude, we bowed ourselves out. The next time we encountered the coach, we saw the Colonel with little Lilly's uncle going together arm in arm into the office of the clerk of the court. Tlie latter handed to the clerk a note from his sister, Mrs. Ingledon, , giving her consent to the issuing of a license for the mar- riage of Col. Braintree and her daughter, Lucy. While the clerk was preparing the license, he said, " Have you heard of the extreme illness of Chancellor Wythe ? He was taken soon after breakfast this morn- ing with great nausea, followed in a short time by spasms and the rumor is that he and several of his servants have been poisoned." " Poisoned !" said both gentlemen. " By whom ?" " That has not been discovered. I have only heard this much." Both gentlemen expressed unfeigned regret. The truth is, the character of the Chancellor, the position he occupied, and his advanced age, caused the rumor to fly over the city, and universal anxiety for the consequences was felt and expressed. Col. Braintree, having obtained the license, handed the clerk a piece of gold, which that gentleman, without dreaming of the change, as is usual on such occasions, blandly dropped into his pocket. The Colonel and his friend parting at the door, the Colonel directed Cyrus to drive to Mrs. Ingledon's. 390 THE TWO PARSONS. " Is Miss Ingledon at home ?" said the Colonel to Caesar, as he walked into the parlor. " I believe not," said Cjesar ; " but mistiss is." At this moment the high-descended widow came in, stepping like a queen, with her long train sweeping be- hind. But she condescended to offer her gloved hand to the coat-of-arms of the Braintrees and the Berkeleys. The Colonel, with courtly air, handed her to a seat, re- gretting to be informed that Miss Ingledon was not at home. " Indeed," said she, " Colonel, you will have to make great allowances for the child. She is not like a dame of the old school, such as you and I have been accustomed to ; and then she has her whims and fancies, and I fear her follies will try you deeply. But she is very affec- tionate. I tliink I can say all will be right in the end." " I have been bantered," he said, " by old friends, who retail rumors of postponements and that sort of thing; but I have full confidence in your assurances, my dear madam." " The idea !" she said, drawing herself up to her full height, " of an Ingledon violating her promise, or wilfully deceiving. When the word of an Ingledon is passed, it is as firmly established as a decree of Darius." " I have brought Miss Ingledon," he said, " a small casket, containing a trifling bridal present, which I hope will not be unacceptable. I could have desired a hand- somer set, but I left the selection to the jeweller in Lon- don, and the casket has just been received. I hope, my dear madam, you will think them appropriate." Opening the casket, she said, " They are chaste and elegant. The very counterpart of a set Lady Skipwith wore at her marriao:e." Leaving the casket in her hands, he said, " I go, madam, THE BRAIJSTTREES. 391 trusting in your kind offices and kind assurances," and the Colonel bowed himself gracefully from her presence. The magnificent coach had just passed beyond view when our Luly came into the parlor, where her mother was still sitting, making a second inspection of the casket and its contents. " See here, dear," she said, " you are of more conse- quence than you imagined ;" and she displayed the jewels. " Col. Braintree — " Little Luly's eyes flashed tire. " Take the hateful things out of my sight. I will not receive them. I in- tend to bring this matter to an end." " My dear, you are not aware of the import of your language, I am sure, nor to whom you are addressing it." " I have alfection for you, mother — none for Colonel Braintree ; and whatever the consequences may be, this match shall never take place." And she walked out of the room like an Ingledon. As soon as she entered her room, she threw off her wrappings, opened lier writing- desk, and indited the following note, while her feelings were aroused : " CoL. Robert Braintree, Swaji Tavern : " Dear Sir : My mother has just shown me a casket of jewels you left this morning as a bridal present for me. I return it with thanks for your liberality and kindness. You will see, I am sure, the impropriety of my accepting it. I have made up my mind, after too much delay, to terminate our engagement. This resolve is irrevocal>le. I shall respect you as my mother's friend ; but as to my- self, my feelings, or my want of proper feeling, leaves me no hope of happiness from this source. Remember me only as a thoughtless and foolish girl. «LULT." 392 THE TWO PARSONS. As soon as she had finished this note and directed it, she took it directly to her mother. " I have no secrets from you, dear mother ; read this, and please send it off with the jewels by Ctesar." The pride of the Ingledons tossed lier head. The ex- pected mother of the descendant of Viscount Dursley and Baron Berkeley of Berkeley, made a low obeisance. The blood of the Fitzhardinges mantled on her brow. " I shall do no such thing. My word is pledged, and it shall stand. And I tell you, moreover, you shall do no such thing. I shall guard your honor, and I am able to pro- tect my own. This is my unalterable determination." " Then," said Luly, " I wash my hands of the conse- quences." She returned to her room, threw herself on the bed, and sobbed aloud. CHAPTER XXYI. UNEXPECTED INTERVIEW BETWEEN LITTLE LULY AND ME. CLAIBORNE. SOME queer things happen in this world of ours. Young people who love one another are sometimes separated by a fate that seems to be inexorable, notwith- standing the most strenuous efforts made by themselves and their friends to keep them together. Then, again, others are drawn together irresistibly by circumstances entirel}^ beyond their control, when they are making earnest efforts to avoid one another. We happen to know that our Thom was precisely in this latter predica- ment. Though he had been assured by Miss Ingledon herself that her much-talked-of marriage would never take place, yet he had been as certainly assured by the clerk of the court that the marriage license had actually been issued; and he could not believe tliat a gentleman would obtain a license to be married unless he was cer- tain of his situation. He had heard, too, that Parson Buchanan had positively been applied to, to perform the marriage ceremony. These things were sufficient to silence any lambent feeling playing around his heart, amounting even to a delicate preference and sentiment. He had seen from his intercourse with Col. Braintree at the tavern from day to day, that his arrangements were progressing to consummation, and thinking it best to avoid such dangerous society, he had kept himself aloof from every place where, by possibility, he supposed Miss Ingledon and himself might meet. It so happened that 2.5 394 THE TWO PARSONS. the senior partner of the firm with whom our Thorn was living came into the oiiice where he was busily engaged in posting accounts, and with a letter in his hand, saidj "Mr. Claiborne, I have an important communication to make to the Governor this morning, and wishing to be certain that he receives it, I will thank you to take it to him." Of course tlie letter was taken with promptness, and an evident zeal for dispatch. Thinking he would find the Governor most probably at the Capitol, he sought him in the Council Chamber; and after delivering the letter, was about to retire, when the Governor said, " this is Mr. Claiborne, I believe." "It is, sir." "The information desired can be readily obtained from Mr. Patrick Gibson. I will endorse a request for him to furnish it. I will thank you to do me the favor to say to Mr. Gibson, I hope he will defer the little appoint- ment we made for day after to-morrow evening, as I in- tend being at the wedding of my friend, Col. Braintree." Mr. Claiborne said it -would give him pleasure to do so, but there was a considerable twitching of the muscles around and about the heart when the wedding was al- luded to. The certainty of the event, however, had cooled down our Thorn's blood several degrees. Lawyers in defending criminals, where the possibility of a doubt of guilt exists, invariably inform the jury that it is their duty to give the prisoner the benefit of the doubt. Now, Thom believed the evidence proved the coming wedding beyond all reasonable doubt ; and yet there was a single sentence uttered by Miss Ingledon at their last inter- view which had lingered in his mind, and been turned over and over, and would not vanish at his bidding. "When the day comes, and there has been no wed- ding," she had said, " then come and get another rose-bud in the place of the withered ones." LULY INGLEDOJSr AND MR. CLAIBOKNE. 395 " I ought to have taken advantage of the doubt which these words imply," thought Thorn, "and thrown m^^self in her way. How could she know what my feelings were when I never expressed them ? " And thus musing as he went, he encountered old Sy Gilliatt, the negro fiddler, who was as well known in those days in Virginia as Ole Bull and Yieuxtemps have been in the modern world. We do not pretend to say that Sy could rival these w^onderful musicians on their cremonas, but we doubt if there is a man in these days, uninstructed, who