Home as Found by James Fenimore Cooper (diy ebook reader txt) 📕

redemption is secure. I only edit a newspaper, by way of showing an

interest in mankind."

"I hope, Mr. Dodge, the press does not mean to let this matter of the

Point sleep; the press is the true guardian of the public rights, and

I can tell you the whole community looks to it for support, in this

crisis."

"We shall not fail to do our duty," said Mr. Dodge, looking over his

shoulder, and speaking lower. "What! shall one insignificant

individual, who has not a single right above that of the meanest

citizen in the county, oppress this great and powerful community!

What if Mr. Effingham does own this point of land--"

"But he does _not_ own it," interrupted Mrs. Abbott. "Ever since I

have known Templeton, the public has owned it. The public, moreover,

says it owns it, and what the public says, in this happy country, is

law."

"But, allowing that the public does not own--"

"It _does_ own it, Mr. Dodge," the nameless repeated, positively.

"Well, ma'am, own or no own, this is not a country in which the press

ought to be silent, when a solitary individual undertakes to trample

on the public. Leave that matter to us, Mrs. Abbott; it is in good

hands, and shall be well taken care of."

"I'm piously glad of it!"

"I mention this to you, as to a friend," continued Mr. Dodge,

cautiously drawing from his pocket a manuscript, which he prepared to

read to his companion who sat with a devouring curiosity, ready to

listen.

The manuscript of Mr. Dodge contained a professed account of the

affair of the Point. It was written obscurely, and was not without

its contradictions, but the imagination of Mrs. Abbott supplied all

the vacuums, and reconciled all the contradictions. The article was

so liberal of its professions of contempt for Mr. Effingham, that

every rational man was compelled to wonder, why a quality, that is

usually so passive, should, in this particular instance, be aroused

to so sudden and violent activity. In the way of facts, not one was

faithfully stated; and there were several deliberate, unmitigated

falsehoods, which went essentially to colour the whole account.

"I think this will answer the purpose," said Steadfast, "and we have

taken means to see that it shall be well circulated."

"This will do them good," cried Mrs. Abbott; almost breathless with

delight. "I hope folks will believe it."

"No fear of that. If it were a party thing, now, one half would

believe it, as a matter of course, and the other half would not

believe it, as a matter of course; but, in a private matter, lord

bless you, ma'am, people are always ready to believe any thing that

will give them something to talk about."

Here the _tete a tete_ was interrupted by the return of Mrs. Abbott's

different messengers, all of whom, unlike the dove sent forth from

the ark, brought back something in the way of hopes. The Point was a

general theme, and, though the several accounts flatly contradicted

each other, Mrs. Abbott, in the general benevolence of her pious

heart, found the means to extract corroboration of her wishes from

each.

Mr. Dodge was as good as his word, and the account appeared. The

press throughout the country seized with avidity on any thing that

helped to fill its columns. No one appeared disposed to inquire into

the truth of the account, or after the character of the original

authority. It was in print, and that struck the great majority of the

editors and their readers, as a sufficient sanction. Few, indeed,

were they, who lived so much under a proper self-control, as to

hesitate; and this rank injustice was done a private citizen, as much

without moral restraint, as without remorse, by those, who, to take

their own accounts of the matter, were the regular and habitual

champions of human rights!

John Effingham pointed out this extraordinary scene of reckless

wrong, to his wondering cousin, with the cool sarcasm, with which he

was apt to assail the weaknesses and crimes of the country. His

firmness, united to that of his cousin, however, put a stop to the

publication of the resolutions of Aristabulus's meeting, and when a

sufficient time had elapsed to prove that these prurient denouncers

of their fellow-citizens had taken wit in their anger, he procured

them, and had them published himself, as the most effectual means of

exposing the real character of the senseless mob, that had thus

disgraced liberty, by assuming its professions and its usages.

To an observer of men, the end of this affair presented several

strong points for comment. As soon as the truth became generally

known, in reference to the real ownership, and the public came to

ascertain that instead of hitherto possessing a right, it had, in

fact been merely enjoying a favour, those who had commit ted

themselves by their arrogant assumptions of facts, and their indecent

outrages, fell back on their self-love, and began to find excuses for

their conduct in that of the other party. Mr. Effingham was loudly

condemned for not having done the very thing, he, in truth, had done,

viz: telling the public it did not own his property; and when this

was shown to be an absurdity, the complaint followed that what he had

done, had been done in precisely such a mode, although it was the

mode constantly used by every one else. From these vague and

indefinite accusations, those most implicated in the wrong, began to

deny all their own original assertions, by insisting that they had

known all along, that Mr. Effingham owned the property, but that they

did not choose he, or any other man, should presume to tell them what

they knew already. In short, the end of this affair exhibited human

nature in its usual aspects of prevarication, untruth, contradiction,

and inconsistency, notwithstanding the high profession of liberty

made by those implicated; and they who had been the most guilty of

wrong, were loudest in their complaints, as if they alone had

suffered.

"This is not exhibiting the country to us, certainly, after so long

an absence, in its best appearance," said Mr. Effingham, "I must

admit, John; but error belongs to all regions, and to all classes of

institutions."

"Ay, Ned, make the best of it, as usual; but, if you do not come

round to my way of thinking, before you are a twelvemonth older, I

shall renounce prophesying. I wish we could get at the bottom of Miss

Effingham's thoughts, on this occasion."

"Miss Effingham has been grieved, disappointed, nay, shocked," said

Eve, "but, still she will not despair of the republic. None of our

respectable neighbours, in the first place, have shared in this

transaction, and that is something; though I confess I feel some

surprise that any considerable portion of a community, that respects

itself, should quietly allow an ignorant fragment of its own numbers,

to misrepresent it so grossly, in an affair that so nearly touches

its own character for common sense and justice."

"You have yet to learn, Miss Effingham, that men can get to be so

saturated with liberty, that they become insensible to the nicer

feelings. The grossest enormities are constantly committed in this

good republic of ours, under the pretence of being done by the

public, and for the public. The public have got to bow to that

bugbear, quite as submissively as Gesler would have wished the Swiss

to bow to his own cap, as to the cap of Rodolph's substitute. Men

will have idols, and the Americans have merely set up themselves."

"And you, cousin Jack, you would be wretched were you doomed to live

under a system less free. I fear you have the affectation of

sometimes saying that which you do not exactly feel."

Chapter XVII.

"Come, these are no times to think of dreams--

We'll talk of dreams hereafter."

SHAKSPEARE.

The day succeeding that in which the conversation just mentioned

occurred, was one of great expectation and delight in the Wigwam.

Mrs. Hawker and the Bloomfields were expected, and the morning passed

away rapidly, under the gay buoyancy of the feelings that usually

accompany such anticipations in a country-house. The travellers were

to leave town the previous evening, and, though the distance was near

two hundred and thirty miles, they were engaged to arrive by the

usual dinner hour. In speed, the Americans, so long as they follow

the great routes, are unsurpassed; and even Sir George Templemore,

coming, as he did, from a country of MacAdamized roads and excellent

posting, expressed his surprise, when given to understand that a

journey of this length, near a hundred miles of which were by land,

moreover, was to be performed in twenty-four hours, the stops

included.

"One particularly likes this rapid travelling," he remarked, "when it

is to bring us such friends as Mrs. Hawker."

"And Mrs. Bloomfield," added Eve, quickly. "I rest the credit of the

American females on Mrs. Bloomfield."

"More so, than on Mrs. Hawker, Miss Effingham."

"Not in all that is amiable, respectable, feminine, and lady-like;

but certainly more so, in the way of mind. I know, Sir George

Templemore, as a European, what your opinion is of our sex in this

country."

"Good heaven, my dear Miss Effingham!--My opinion of your sex, in

America! It is impossible for any one to entertain a higher opinion

of your country-women--as I hope to show--as, I trust, my respect and

admiration have always proved--nay, Powis, you, as an American, will

exonerate me from this want of taste--judgment--feeling--"

Paul laughed, but told the embarrassed and really distressed baronet,

that he should leave him in the very excellent hands into which he

had fallen.

"You see that bird, that is sailing so prettily above the roofs of

the village," said Eve, pointing with her parasol in the direction

she meant; for the three were walking together on the little lawn, in

waiting for the appearance of the expected guests; "and I dare say

you are ornithologist enough to tell its vulgar name."

"You are in the humour to be severe this morning--the bird is but a

common swallow."

"One of which will not make a summer, as every one knows. Our

cosmopolitism is already forgotten, and with it, I fear, our

frankness."

"Since Powis has hoisted his national colours, I do not feel as free

on such subjects as formerly," returned Sir George, smiling. "When I

thought I had a secret ally in him, I was not afraid to concede a

little in such things, but his avowal of his country has put me on my

guard. In no case, however, shall I admit my insensibility to the

qualities of your countrywomen. Powis, as a native, may take that

liberty; but, as for myself, I shall insist they are, at least, the

equals of any females I know."

"In _naivete_, prettiness, delicacy of appearance, simplicity, and

sincerity--"

"In sincerity, think you, dear Miss Effingham?"

"In sincerity, above all things, dear Sir George Templemore.

Sincerity--nay, frankness is the last quality I should think of

denying them."

"But to return to Mrs. Bloomfield--she is clever, exceedingly clever,

I allow; in what is her cleverness to be distinguished from that of

one of her sex, on the other side of the ocean?"

"In nothing, perhaps, did there exist no differences in national

characteristics. Naples and New-York are in the same latitude, and

yet, I think you will agree with me, that there is little resemblance

in their populations."

"I confess I do not understand the allusion--are you quicker witted,

Powis?"

"I will not say that," answered Paul; "but I think I do comprehend

Miss Effingham's meaning. You have travelled enough to know, that, as

a rule, there is more aptitude in a southern, than in a northern

people. They receive impressions more readily, and are quicker in all

their perceptions."

"I believe this to be true; but, then, you will allow that they are

less constant, and have less perseverance?"

"In that we are agreed, Sir George Templemore," resumed Eve, "though

we might differ as to the cause. The inconstancy of which you speak,

is more connected with moral than physical causes, perhaps, and we,

of this region, might claim an exemption from some of them. But, Mrs.

Bloomfield is to be distinguished from her European rivals, by a

frame so singularly feminine as to appear fragile, a delicacy of

exterior, that, were it not for that illumined face of hers, might

indicate a general feebleness, a sensitiveness and quickness of

intellect that amount almost to inspiration; and yet all is balanced

by a practical common sense, that renders her as safe a counsellor as

she is a warm friend. This latter quality causes you sometimes to

doubt her genius, it is so very homely and available. Now it is in

this, that I think the American woman, when she does rise above

mediocrity, is particularly to be distinguished from the European.

The latter, as a genius, is almost always in the clouds, whereas,

Mrs. Bloomfield, in her highest flights, is either all heart, or all

good sense. The