Chapter XX

MELANCHOLY PRESAGES-TURBULENCE OF THE

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PEOPLE

HE conversations between my father and aunt assumed a melancholy cast. Their hopes of a golden age in that country (now that the flames of war were entirely quenched) grew weaker. The repeal of the stamp act occasioned excessive joy, but produced little gratitude. The youth of the town, before that news arrived, had abandoned their wonted sports, and begun to amuse themselves with breaking the windows and destroying the furniture of two or three different people, who had, in succession, been suspected of being stamp-masters in embryo. My father grew fonder than ever of fishing and shooting, because birds and fish did not talk of tyranny or taxes. Sometimes we were refreshed by a visit from some of aunt's nephews, the sons of the mayor. They always left us in great good humor, for they spoke respectfully of our dear king, and dearer country. But this sunshine was transient; they were soon succeeded by Obadiah or Zephaniah, from Hampshire or Connecticut, who came in without knocking; sat down without invitation; and

lighted their pipe without ceremony; then talked of buying land; and, finally, began a discourse on politics, which would have done honor to Praise God Barebones, or any of the members of his parliament. What is very singular, is, that though the plain-spoken and manly natives of our settlement had a general dislike to the character of those litigious and loquacious pretenders, such are the inconsistencies into which people are led by party, that they insensibly adopted many of their notions. With Madame I was quite free from this plague. None of that chosen race ever entered her door. She valued time too much to devote it to a set of people whom she considered as greatly wanting in sincerity. I speak now of the Hampshire and Connecticut people. In towns and at sea-ports the old leaven had given way to that liberality which was produced by a better education, and an intercourse with strangers. Much as aunt's loyal and patriotic feelings were hurt by the new mode of talking which prevailed, her benevolence was not cooled, nor her mode of living changed.

I continued to grow in favor with aunt this winter; for the best possible reasons, I was the only one of the family that would sit still with her. The young people in the house were by no means congenial with her; and each had a love affair in hand fast ripening into matrimony, that took up all their thoughts. Mr. H. our chaplain, was plausible, but superficial, vain, and ambitious. He too was

busied in hatching a project of another kind. On pretence of study, he soon retired to his room after meals, dreading no doubt that aunt might be in possession of Ithuriel's spear, or to speak without a figure, might either fathom his shallowness or detect his project. One of these discoveries he knew would sink him in her opinion, and the other exclude him from her house. For my own part, I was always puzzling myself to consider, why I did not more love and reverence Mr. H., who I took it for granted must needs be good, wise, and learned; for I thought a clergyman was all but inspired. Thus thinking, I wondered why I did not feel for Mr. H. what I felt for aunt in some degree; but unfortunately Mr. H. was a true bred native of Connecticut, which perhaps helped more than any intuitive penetration to prevent any excess of veneration. Aunt and I read Burnet's memoirs and some biography this winter, and talked at least over much geography and natural history. Here indeed, I was in some degree obliged to Mr. H. I mean for a few lessons on the globe. He had too an edition of Shakespeare. I have been trying but in vain to recollect what aunt said of this. Not much certainly, but she was much pleased with the Essay on Man, etc. Yet I somehow understood that Shakespeare was an admired author, and was not a little mortified when I found myself unable to appreciate his merits. I suppose my taste had been vitiated by bombast tragedies I had read at Colonel

E's. I thought them grossly familiar, and very inferior to Cato, whom aunt had taught me to admire; in short I was ignorant, and because I could read Milton, did not know my own ignorance. I did not expect to meet nature in a play, and therefore did not recognize her. 'Tis not to be conceived how I puzzled over Hamlet, or how his assumed madness and abuse of Ophelia confounded me. Othello's jealousy, and the manner in which he expressed it, were quite beyond my comprehension.

I mention these things as a warning to other young people not to admire by rote, but to wait the unfolding of their own taste, if they would derive real pleasure from the works of genius. I rather imagine I was afraid aunt would think I devoted too much time to what I then considered as a trifling book. For I remember reading Hamlet the third or fourth time, in a frosty night, by moonlight, in the back porch. This reiterated perusal was not in consequence of any great pleasure it afforded me; but I was studiously laboring to discover the excellence I thought it must needs contain; yet with more diligence than success. Madame was at this time, I imagine, foreseeing a storm, and trying to withdraw her mind as much as possible from earthly objects.

Forty years before this period, a sister of the deceased colonel had married a very worthy man of the name of Wendell.' He being a person of an

1 Jacob Wendell, a half-brother of Aunt Schuyler, settled in Boston as a merchant, and attained to a high position in business and civil life.

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active, enterprising disposition, and possessing more portable wealth than usually fell to the share of the natives there, was induced to join some great commercial company near Boston, and settled there. He was highly prosperous and much beloved, and

for a while cultivated a constant commerce with the friends he left behind. When he died, however, his wife, who was a meek, benevolent woman, without distrust, and a stranger to business, was very ill-treated her sons, who had been married in the country, died. Their connections secured the family property for their children. In the primitive days of New York, a marriage settlement was an unheard of thing. Far from her native home, having out-lived her friends, helpless and uncomplaining, this good woman, who had lived all her days in the midst of deserved affluence and affection, was now stripped by chicanery of all her rights, and sinking into poverty without a friend or comforter. Aunt, immediately upon hearing this, set on foot a negotiation to get Mrs. Wendell's affairs regulated, so that she might have the means of living with comfort in a country in which long residence had naturalized her; or that failing, to bring her home to reside with herself. Perhaps in the whole course of her life, she had not experienced so much of the depravity of human nature as this inquiry unfolded to her. The negotiation, however, cheered and busied her at a time when she greatly needed some exertion of mind to check