appropriately, but modestly, commemorated in the parish and town records, both, for now many years, kept by myself. Already had my son Seneca completed his course at the University. Whether, for the moment, we may not be considered as actually lording it over those Baratarias with the viceroyalty of which Hope invests us, and whether we are ever so warmly housed as in our Spanish castles, would afford matter of argument. Enough that I found that sign-board to be no other than a bait to the trap of a decayed grocer. Nevertheless, I bought a pound of dates (getting short weight by reason of immense flights of harpy flies who pursued and lighted upon their prey even in the very scales), which purchase I made, not only with an eye to the little ones at home, but also as a figurative reproof of that too frequent habit of my mind, which, forgetting the due order of chronology, will often persuade me that the happy sceptre of Saturn is stretched over this Astræa-forsaken nineteenth century. Having glanced at the ledger of Glory under the title Sawin, B., let us extend our investigations, and discover if that instructive volume does not contain some charges more personally interesting to ourselves. I think we should be more economical of our resources, did we thoroughly appreciate the fact, that, whenever brother Jonathan seems to be thrusting his hand into his own pocket, he is, in fact, picking ours. I confess that the late muck which the country has been running has materially changed my views as to the best method of raising revenue. If, by means of direct taxation, the bills for every extraordinary outlay were brought under our immediate eye, so that, like thrifty housekeepers, we could see where and how fast the money was going, we should be less likely to commit extravagances. At present, these things are managed in such a hugger-mugger way, that we know not what we pay for; the poor man is charged as much as the rich; and, while we are saving and scrimping at the spigot, the government is drawing off at the bung. If we could know that a part of the money we expend for tea and coffee goes to buy powder and balls, and that it is Mexican blood which makes the clothes on our backs more costly, it would set some of us athinking. During the present fall, I have often pictured to myself a government official entering my study and handing me the following bill: WASHINGTON, Sept. 30, 1848. REV. HOMER WILBUR to Uncle Samuel, To his share of work done in Mexico on partnership account, sundry jobs, as below. 66 66 "killing, maiming, and wounding about 5,000 Mexicans, his proportion of cash paid for conquered territory, Dr. $2.00 66 66 do. do. for conquering do. 1.50 66 manuring do. with new superior compost called "American Citizen," .50 "extending the area of freedom and Protestantism, 66 glory, . Immediate payment is requested. .01 .01 $9.87 N. B. Thankful for former favors, U. S. requests a continuance of patronage. Orders executed with neatness and despatch. Terms as low as those of any other contractor for the same kind and style of work. I can fancy the official answering my look of horror with, "Yes Sir, it looks like a high charge, Sir: but in these days slaughtering is slaughtering." Verily, I would that every one understood that it was; for it goes about obtaining money under the false pretence of being glory. For me, I have an imagination which plays me uncomfortable tricks. It happens to me sometimes to see a slaughterer on his way home from his day's work, and forthwith my imagination puts a cocked-hat upon his head and epaulettes upon his shoulders, and sets him up as a candidate for the Presidency. So, also, on a recent public occasion, as the place assigned to the "Reverend Clergy " is just behind that of "Officers of the Army and Navy" in processions, it was my fortune to be seated at the dinner-table over against one of these respectable persons. He was arrayed as (out of his own profession only kings, court-officers, and footmen are in Europe, and Indians in America. Now what does my over-officious imagination but set to work upon him, strip him of his gay livery, and present him to me coatless, his trowsers thrust into the tops of a pair of boots thick wit clotted blood, and a basket on his arm out of which lolled a goresmeared axe, thereby destroying my relish for the temporal mercies upon the board before me! -H. W.] No. IX. A THIRD LETTER FROM B. SAWIN, ESQ. In [UPON the following letter slender comment will be needful. what river Selemnus has Mr. Sawin bathed, that he has become so swiftly oblivious of his former loves? From an ardent and (as befits a soldier) confident wooer of that coy bride, the popular favor, we see him subside of a sudden into the (I trust not jilted) Cincinnatus, returning to his plough with a goodly-sized branch of willow in his hand; figuratively returning, however, to a figurative plough, and from no profound affection for that honored implement of husbandry, (for which, indeed, Mr. Sawin never displayed any decided predilection,) but in order to be gracefully summoned therefrom to more congenial labors. It would seem that the character of the ancient Dictator had become part of the recognized stock of our modern political comedy, though, as our term of office extends to a quadrennial length, the parallel is not so minutely exact as could be desired. It is sufficiently so, however, for purposes of scenic representation. An humble cottage (if built of logs, the better) forms the Arcadian background of the stage. This rustic paradise is labelled Ashland, Jaalam, North Bend, Marshfield, Kinderhook, or Bâton Rouge, as occasion demands. Before the door stands a something with one handle (the other painted in proper perspective), which represents, in happy ideal vagueness, the plough. To this the defeated candidate rushes with delirous joy, welcomed as a father by appropriate groups of happy laborers, or from it the successful one is torn with difficulty, sustained alone by a noble sense of public duty. Only I have observed, that, if the scene be laid at Bâton Rouge or Ashland, the laborers are kept carefully in the background, and are heard to shout from behind the scenes in a singular tone resembling ululation, and accompanied by a sound not unlike vigorous clapping. This, however, may be artistically in keeping with the habits of the rustic population of those localities. The precise connection between agricultural pursuits and statesmanship I have not been able, after diligent inquiry, to discover. But, that my investigations may not be barren of all fruit, I will mention one curious statistical fact, which I consider thoroughly established, namely, that no real farmer ever attains practically beyond a seat in General Court, however theoretically qualified for more exalted station. It is probable that some other prospect has been opened to Mr. Sawin, and that he has not made this great sacrifice without some definite understanding in regard to a seat in the cabinet or a foreign mission. It may be supposed that we of Jaalam were not untouched by a feeling of villatic pride in beholding our townsman occupying so large a space in the public eye. And to me, deeply revolving the qualifications necessary to a candidate in these frugal times, those of Mr. S. seemed peculiarly adapted to a successful campaign. The loss of a leg, an arm, an eye, and four fingers, reduced him so nearly to the condition of a vox et præterea nihil, that I could think of nothing but the loss of his head by which his chance could have been bettered. But since he has chosen to baulk our suffrages, we must content ourselves with what we can get, remembering lactucas non esse dandas, dum cardui sufficiant.-H. W.] I SPOSE you recollect thet I explained my gennle views In the last billet thet I writ, 'way down frum Veery Cruze, Jest arter I'd a kind o' ben spontanously sot up To run unanimously fer the Presidential cup; O' course it worn't no wish o' mine, 't wuz ferflely distressin', But poppiler enthusiasm gut so almighty pressin' Thet, though like sixty all along I fumed an' fussed an' sorrered, There did n't seem no ways to stop their bringin' on me forrerd: Fact is, they udged the matter so, I could n't help admit tin' The Father o' his Country's shoes no feet but mine 'ould. fit in, Besides the savin' o' the soles fer ages to succeed, Seein' thet with one wannut foot, a pair'd be more 'n I need; An', tell ye wut, them shoes 'll want a thund'rin' sight o' patchin', Ef this 'ere fashion is to last we've gut into o' hatchin' A pair o' second Washintons fer every new election, Though, fur ez number one 's consarned, I don't make no objection. I wuz agoin' on to say thet wen at fust I saw The masses would stick to 't I wuz the Country's father 'n-law, (They would ha' hed it Father, but I told 'em 't would n't du, Coz thet wuz sutthin' of a sort they could n't split in tu, An' Washinton hed hed the thing laid fairly to his door, Nor dars n't say 't worn't his'n, much ez sixty year afore,) But 't aint no matter ez to thet; wen I wuz nomernated, 'T wor n't natur but wut I should feel consid'able elated, An' wile the hooraw o' the thing wuz kind o' noo an' fresh, I thought our ticket would ha' caird the country with a resh. Sence I've come hum, though, an' looked round, I think I seem to find Strong argimunts ez thick ez fleas to make me change my mind; It's clear to any one whose brain ain't fur gone in a phthisis, Thet hail Columby's happy land is goin' thru a crisis, tracted By bein' all to once by sev'ral pop'lar names attackted; 'T would save holl haycartloads o' fuss an' three four months o' jaw, Ef some illustrous paytriot should back out an' withdraw; So, ez I aint a crooked stick, jest like - like ole (I swow, I dunno ez I know his name) - I'll go back to my plough. Wenever an Amerikin distinguished politishin To hint the course you think 'll be the savin' o' the nation; To funk right out o' p'lit'cal strife aint thought to be the thing, Without you deacon off the toon you want your folks should sing; So I edvise the noomrous friends thet's in one boat with me To jest up killock, jam right down their hellum hard a lee, Haul the sheets taut, an', laying out upon the Suthun tack, Make fer the safest port they can, wich, I think, is Ole Zack. Next thing you'll want to know, I spose, wut argimunts I seem To see thet makes me think this ere 'll be the strongest team; Fust place, I've ben consid❜ble round in bar-rooms an' saloons Agethrin' public sentiment, 'mongst Demmercrats and Coons, An' 'taint ve'y offen thet I meet a chap but wut goes in Fer Rough an' Ready, fair an' square, hufs, taller, horns, an' skin; I don't deny but wut, fer one, ez fur ez I could see, Seein' wich way the tide thet sets to office is aturnin'; sticks, "T wuz Birdofredum one, Cass aught, an' Taylor twenty-six, An' bein' the on'y canderdate thet wuz upon the ground, They said 't wuz no more 'n right thet I should pay the drinks all round; Ef I'd expected sech a trick, I would n't ha' cut my foot cust, Ef Bellers wuz n't slim enough to say he would n't trust! Another pint thet influences the minds o' sober jedges pledges; |