The American Gentleman's Guide to Politeness and Fashion Part 41

resumed the busy seamstress, drawing out her long needle and thread, and returning it with the speed and accuracy of nicely-adjusted machinery; "do you recollect his portraiture of the _Trimmer_?"

"It is very fine," I answered, like everything else Macaulay has written. "Nothing, however, has impressed me more, thus far, in his history, than his description of the condition of the clergy of the Established Church, in the rural districts, during the reign of James, and later even."

"I, too, was exceedingly interested in it," replied Rebecca. "And the more, that I was reminded of the fate of the _daughters_ of English country curates, even at this day; of 'gentle blude,' many times, born and educated ladies, they are subjected, frequently, through life, to toil and suffering that would excuse their envying the fate of a mere kitchen-drudge!"

"They are, usually, governesses for life, and never marry," continued I.

"Never marry--though they are so educated and disciplined, as to be peculiarly well-fitted for the fulfillment of woman's dearest and highest destiny! Thank G.o.d! I was born where such social thraldom, such hateful monstrosities, are not!" And the face that turned its glance upward, for an instant, with those last fervent words, was overspread with a glow bright as the crimson hue of sunset.

But, though my friend Rebecca, was the last woman in the world to

"Die of a rose, in aromatic pain,"

she was a perfect Sybarite, in some respects, as I will convince you.

Entering her mother's tasteful, pretty drawing-room, a few evenings after this conversation, I found the charming "Jewess," as I sometimes called her, in allusion to Scott's celebrated heroine, reading by the light of an astral lamp. She was elegantly, and, I suppose fas.h.i.+onably, dressed, and reclining in a large, luxurious-looking, stuffed chair, with her daintily-slippered feet, half buried in a soft crimson cus.h.i.+on.

In short, she was the very impersonation of the "unbought grace" of one of Nature's queens. Had I been younger, by some fifty years, I should have been tempted, beyond a doubt, to do oriental homage to so much loveliness.

"By the way, Rebecca," said I, after a few minutes' chat with my hostess, "I must tell you of a witticism you elicited, this morning, from one of your admirers!"

"One of my admirers! Who, pray?"

"Guess! Well, I won't tantalize you!--Howard Parker!"

"You tell me something, Colonel! I am not ent.i.tled to enter Mr. Parker on my list of friends."

"What, what! that to me, my dear? I have a great mind to punish you, by not telling you what he said."

"As you please, Colonel Lunettes!" with a coquettish toss of her long ringlets.

"Please, tell _me_, Colonel!" interposed her mother, smilingly; "don't mind Rebecca's nonsense--tell me!"

"In a whisper?" I inquired, laughing, and glancing at the "Jewess." "I hardly dare to venture that! Well! meeting Howard, who is a great favorite of mine, in the street, this morning, he told me he was coming here, to call. 'Steel your heart, then,' said I--'Or _she will steal it_!' he answered, as quick as thought."

"Quite a _jeu d'esprit_!" exclaimed Rebecca, laughing gaily. "But, Colonel, Mr. Parker may be witty, accomplished, and intellectual, but he is _not a gentleman_!"

"My daughter, you are severe," said her mother, deprecatingly.

"I don't mean to be, mother; but"--

"From what do you draw such a sweeping inference, my child?" I inquired.

"From _trifles_, dear sir, I admit; but

----'trifles make the sum of human things!'

and slight peculiarities often indicate character. For instance, Mr.

Parker keeps his hat on, when he is talking to ladies, and neglects his teeth and hair--you needn't laugh, mamma! Yesterday morning, he joined me in the street, and came home with me, or, nearly home; for he stopped short, a little way from the house, let me cross a great mud-puddle, as well as I could, alone, and open the gate for myself, though I had my hands full of things. It's true, he had the grace to color a little, when I said, significantly, as he bade me good morning, that I was glad I had crossed the Slough of Despond, without accident."

"That showed that a sensible woman could correct his faults," I remarked.

"I don't know about that," replied my hostess. "Such things, as Rebecca says, _indicate character_; and I would not advise any young lady to marry a man, with the expectation of reforming him."

"Not of a cardinal vice, certainly," said I; "but there are"--

Here a servant interrupted me with--"Mr. Parker's compliments, Miss,"

and offered my fastidious young friend a large parcel, wrapped in a wet, soiled newspaper, and tied with dirty red tape.

"Ugh!" exclaimed the Sybarite, recoiling, with unrepressed disgust.

"What is it, Betty? It can't be for me!"

"It _is_, Miss, an' no mistake--the boy said it got wet in the rain, widout, as he was bringing it, an' no umberrellar wid him."

"Will you just take it into the hall, and take off the paper, Biddy? Be careful not to let it get dirty and wet, inside, will you?"--With studied _nonchalance_.

Presently Biddy laid down a large, handsomely-bound volume, and a note, before the young lady.

"It is a copy of Macaulay's 'Lays of Ancient Rome,'" said she, skimming over the note. "Mr. Parker was alluding to some pa.s.sage in one of the poems, this morning. He says I will find it marked and begs me to accept the book, as a philopoena--oh, here are the lines--I thought them very fine as he recited them. Shall I read them, mamma? And you, sir, will you hear them?"

"'Then none was for a party; Then all were for the state; Then the great man helped the poor, And the poor man loved the great; Then lands were fairly portioned; Then spoils were fairly sold: The Romans were like brothers, In the brave days of old.'"

The enthusiasm with which the appreciating reader read this spirited pa.s.sage, did not prevent my observing that she held her handkerchief closely pressed upon the back of the exquisite antique binding of the volume, in the hope, as I inferred, of drying the stain of wet which I noticed, at once attracted her attention when she took up the gift. The open note, as it lay upon the table, disclosed a torn, ragged edge, as if it had been carelessly severed from a sheet of foolscap.

Whatever her reflections, the young lady had too much instinctive delicacy to comment upon these peccadilloes, and so, of course, I could inst.i.tute no defense of my friend. I, therefore, _tacked_, as a sailor would say.

"Howard's a n.o.ble fellow," said I, "in spite of his little oddities, but he has one fault, unfortunately, which I fear will prevent his winning much favor with the ladies."

"What is that?" inquired my young auditor, in a tone of seeming indifference, but with a heightened color, and an eager glance.

"He is _poor_!"

"Do you mean that he _lives by his wits_, as the phrase is?" asked my hostess.

"By no means! simply this:--Parker began the world without a dollar, and has had, thus far, to 'paddle his own canoe,' as he expresses it, against wind and tide."

"That is quite the best thing I ever knew of him!" exclaimed Rebecca, with animation. "It does him great credit, in my estimation! But, Colonel, I cannot agree with you in thinking Mr. Parker, _poor_!"

"No?"

"No, indeed! in my regard, _no man in our country is poor, who possesses health, education, and an unblemished reputation_!"

In the library of the only representative of the British government in this country--and he was the lineal representative, as well, of one of the oldest, wealthiest and most aristocratic of n.o.ble English families--whose guest I remember to have been, I found great numbers of books, which he had brought with him from home, but they were arranged upon simple, unpainted pine shelves, put up for convenience, while the owner should remain at Was.h.i.+ngton. He brought his books, because he wanted them for constant use--but, though accustomed to the utmost luxuriousness of appointment at home, he did not dream of bringing furniture across the Atlantic, or of apologizing for the absence of more than was demanded by necessity in his temporary residence.

I remember, too, to have heard it said that one of the recent governors of the Empire State had not a single article of mahogany furniture in his house at Albany; and yet, n.o.body complained of any want of hospitality or courtesy on his part, while making this discovery. The simple fact was, that, being without private fortune, and the salary of his office insufficient for such expenditures, _he could not afford it_--and no man, I believe, is bound to run in debt, to gratify either the expectations or the vanity of his political const.i.tuents.

As a contrast to these anecdotes, how does the following incident impress you?