Sheppard Lee, Written by Himself. Vol. I (of 2)

The next profession in point of dignity is law; and lawyers, as I may say, form the true effective nobility of America; for though the mere gentlemen deem themselves higher and purer, they are pretty generally considered by others as only the lady-dowagers of society. But the lady-dowagers sometimes consider the gentility of lawyers doubtful.

The third profession is that of arms, which owes its consideration mainly to the women; who, although the ministers of love and mercy to man, are wondrous fond of those who deal in blood and gunpowder. These are the only respectable professions in America.

Divinity, physic, merchandise, agriculture, and politics, are the only others from which a man is occasionally allowed to enter good society. But they are considered low, and it is only peculiar circumstances which can give any of their followers a claim to rise.

I have said that the claim of the gentlemen to consider themselves the highest class is founded in nature. They form the nucleus of society, and around them, as they are admitted, the members of the other professions establish the grand order of fashion. According to their creed, law is a respectable profession, because it keeps down the mob, or people, by keeping them constantly by the ears, and because it makes money; and arms they hold to be reputable, because it does the same thing, and paves the way to the presidency. Divinity and physic they consider to be naturally low occupations, since their provinces are only to take care of dirty souls and bodies. Merchandise is denounced, since it consists of both buying and selling, whereas, buying is the only part of traffic that is fit for a gentleman. Agriculture is contemned, because there are so many clodhoppers engaged in it; and politics, because it demands consociation with the mob.

In these five professions, however, certain fortunate circumstances may give a claim to notice. Parsons (who are often doctors of divinity and always reverends) and physicians are titled gentry, and this counts in their favour; and the same thing may be said of politicians, when they rise to be secretaries of departments or foreign ministers, or become renowned as orators: great distinction will secure them favour, for they are then people that people look at. Merchants are allowed to be respectable as soon as they are worth a million, provided they have two or three daughters and no sons, and are willing to be splendid in their entertainments. An agriculturist of our own latitudes can never expect to be made respectable; but a planter of cotton or tobacco, who owns a hundred negroes, and puts the name of his farm or the county he lives in after his own, has as good a chance as any.

All other classes are vulgar and mechanical, and therefore ineligible. Men of science and genius are excluded on account of their manners, which are outlandish, and their arrogant display of superiority, which is disagreeable; and as for the actors, dancers, and singers that are sometimes met with, the two first are admitted, because they are foreign and famous, and the last, because they bring good music for nothing.

From this exposition of the code of society, it will be seen that my uncle Wilkins could boast but slender claims to an introduction. His occupation had been vulgar, and he had not made money enough to ennoble him. I trebled his two hundred and ninety thousand, as is usual, but I could not deny that his son was named Sammy, and his daughter Pattie.

But what spoke highly in his favour was, that whatever had been his profession, he had now abandoned it, with the praiseworthy intention of living a gentleman during the remainder of his life; and what was also advantageous, he had pursued it at such a distance from the haunts of fashion that his new friends might, with the greatest propriety, affect an entire ignorance of it.

His having a daughter, too, and but one son to divide with her his eight hundred and seventy thousand – that is to say, his two hundred and ninety – was also a strong recommendation to those mammas who had sons to provide for; and his determination to indulge the fair Pattie in as many balls and parties as she desired, was another circumstance to propitiate favour.

But, to crown all, I countenanced him; and that settled the matter. In a few days' time there was such a rattle and trampling at the brewer's door as had never been known before. The whole square was in commotion, being choked up with carriages; and such was the throng of genteel people rushing into the house, that an unsophisticated dealer in second-hand furniture, supposing there was an auction to be held, stalked into the parlour, and electrified everybody by wondering, in the way of a question not addressed to any particular person, "when the sale was to begin?"

In short, the thing was settled; my uncle was dubbed a gentleman, and every occurrence went to show that in the approaching season his rank would be confirmed, and his daughter recognised as a belle by everybody in town.

But before that time a change came o'er the spirit of my fate, and – But I shall confess the whole affair to the reader.

CHAPTER XVII.

IN WHICH SHEPPARD LEE RELATES THE PASSION HE CONCEIVED FOR HIS FAIR COUSIN, AND HIS ENGAGEMENT TO ELOPE WITH HER

My uncle Wilkins, it seems, was not merely ambitious to get into good society; he was ambitious to have his daughter married, and, as he said, into the best family in the land: an object not very difficult to compass, considering the fortune he intended to leave her. But my uncle was resolved her husband should be rich as well as distinguished; and I discovered the old curmudgeon had an extreme horror of poverty. Perhaps one of the strongest reasons for his leaving the country was a fear he had lest his adorable daughter should be snapped up by that aforesaid Danny Baker, whom my cousin had pronounced "one of the truest and handsomest sweethearts I ever saw;" although I never saw him at all, nor, indeed, any other extremely true and handsome sweetheart of the male gender in all my life; for those that are true are ugly, and those that are handsome are as uncertain as politics. I say this was my uncle's fear, and, indeed, he confessed to me his belief that Pattie had really a sneaking kindness for the young rustic; for which reason he was anxious to have her married as soon as possible.

I may here observe, that if a bachelor is to judge of the excellence of love by the character of its vocabulary, he will discover no stirring reason to lament his insensibility. All the expressions on the subject go to show that there is something mean and contemptible in the tender passion, which men otherwise profess to be the most heavenly of the passions – as if, indeed, heaven had any thing to do with any of them. The moment a man begins to think a woman uncommonly charming, he is said to cast a "sheep's eye" on her; when he feels a friendship for her, it becomes "a sneaking kindness;" and the moment his heart is in a hubbub, he is "deep in the mire." From these terms, and others that might be mentioned, it results as I have said, namely – that men and women who have experienced the tender passion, are, notwithstanding their pretences to the contrary, really ashamed of it; that a lover is a sheep and a sneaking fellow, ordained to grovel in the mud at the feet of his mistress; and, finally, that a bachelor has no good reason to execrate his stars for keeping him single.

But I had other notions when I was in Mr. I. D. Dawkins's body.

I was entirely of my uncle's way of thinking, and proposed to take her myself; to which my uncle replied, in some perturbation, "None of your jokes there, Ikey, my boy;" and gave me plainly to understand that was a thing he would never think of. Nay, the proposition seemed to him so unpalatable, that I was compelled to pretend I had made it entirely in jest; though I demanded, supposing I had been serious, what objection he could have to me. "Oh, none in the world," said he, "except your being so near of blood; for a cousin-german is almost the same as a brother."

I understood the old hunks better than he thought; he had, somehow or other, found out that I had spent my fortune, and was therefore, in that particular, no better off than Mr. Danny Baker. I saw, too, clearly enough, that he only valued me as a sort of stepping-stone into society; and that, having once had all the advantage of me he could, he would be ready to forget all my benefits. The curmudgeon! he had found out I had been borrowing money of his son Sammy, and he was already longing for the time to come when he might safely discard me.

I resolved to marry Pattie in spite of him; and began to cast about for some device by which to secure her share of his two hundred and ninety thousand, which it was more than probable he would withhold, in the event of her marrying against his will. This device I soon hit upon.

I told him there was, among all my acquaintance, not above one man whom I could recommend as a husband for Pattie; for though there were dozens of genteel young fellows, fortunes were by no means so plentiful. My friend Tickle, I assured him, was just the man, – a little gay, to be sure; indeed, quite dissipated; and, what was worse, an enemy to matrimony; which was the more extraordinary, as by marrying he might come at once into possession of a splendid fortune. And thereupon I told him that Jack's father, who was a saint in his way, and a bigot, to reclaim him, had, by will (for I assured him the poor man was dead), bequeathed his superb estate to him only upon condition that he married before the expiration of five years; failing in which, the whole property, now in the hands of trustees, would revert to other persons, with the exception of a shabby annuity of a thousand a year. The five years, I told my uncle Wilkins, were now nearly expired, and Jack, being in some alarm, was already expressing an inclination to seek a spouse; but she must be a rich one, otherwise he would never think of her.

This story, which I fabricated for the purpose, produced a strong effect upon my uncle Wilkins; and I concluded it by recommending he should without delay settle half his fortune upon Pattie, by legal grant of dedi et concessi, as the lawyers call it, and register the same; in which event, I would do all I could to bring the marriage about, not doubting that we should succeed, since Pattie was, as I averred, just the sort of girl that Tickle liked.

My uncle was rather dumbfounded at the last proposal, and swore he would do no such thing. "He was not going," he said, "to bribe anybody to take his girl off his hands, not he; she should have her share when he was dead, and if she married to his liking, why she should have something before. I might bring my friend Tickle to see her if I would, and he would see what he thought of him."

My uncle put a bold face upon the matter, but I perceived he was eager to make the acquaintance of my friend Tickle, and would be soon brought to reason. And, indeed, after having seen the intended son-in-law, and listened some half a dozen times over to my arguments, he opened his heart so far as to settle the sum of forty thousand dollars upon Pattie, which – or rather the yearly interest of that sum, for the crafty old sly-boots took care to constitute himself trustee for the girl, and retain the principal in his own hands – he conditioned to pay her after her marriage.

I was provoked at his stinginess; but as no better terms could be had, I thought I might as well bring the matter to a conclusion, trusting that something better would turn up after my marriage.

I say my marriage, for I had no thoughts of bestowing forty thousand dollars, or the interest thereof, upon my friend Tickle. I made him my confidant in the matter, and easily prevailed upon him to assist me in deceiving my uncle Wilkins, by appearing to Pattie in the light of a wooer. As for Pattie herself, who, I was persuaded, had fallen in love with me at first sight, I made her a declaration, which diverted and delighted her beyond expression; and revealing to her also my project to secure her an independence, she agreed to do her part in the play, pretend a great fancy for Mr. Tickle, and run away with me, the moment her father should make her the grant in question.

The grant was made, as I mentioned before; but by that time I was in a dilemma, having made an engagement to elope with another lady, who was in some respects highly attractive, and had fallen devouringly in love with me. Indeed, I may say, she made me the first offer, though it was not leap-year; but her situation excused her, especially as it was I she made love to. She was, the reader will be surprised to learn, the daughter of old Skinner, or Goldfist, the usurer; and she was rather handsome than otherwise. The engagement was brought about as will be shown in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XVIII.

IN WHICH SHEPPARD LEE RECOUNTS AN ENGAGEMENT OF A SIMILAR NATURE WHICH

HE FORMED WITH THE FAIR ALICIA

My creditors, looking with great certainty for their money, now that my long-talked-of uncle had got to town, having waited a couple of weeks for payment in vain, began to besiege me in a highly importunate way; and as no assistance was to be had of my uncle, and Sammy's purse was not so well filled as I could have wished, I was reduced to great straits.

Conversing on this subject with my friend Tickle, he advised me to visit old Goldfist, as I (that is, my prototype, the true Dawkins) had often done before, and see what could be had out of him on the strength of my projected nuptials.

The advice being as good as could be had (for Tickle's pockets were as empty as my own), I proceeded to the old fellow's house after nightfall – for I did not care to be observed.

Having knocked at the door, it was opened by no less a person than Skinner's fair daughter herself, as I soon discovered; and, in fact, I had some faint recollection of having seen her before. There was a lamp on the pavement before the door, by which I could see her very plainly. She blushed, and smiled, and looked confused, and when I asked for her father, made me some answer which I did not understand; but, as she invited me to enter, I followed her into the house, expecting to be led to the money-lender. She conducted me, however, to a parlour, not over and above well furnished, for Skinner was a notorious skinflint, when, having vouchsafed to converse with her a while, I again asked after her father.

She told me he was not at home; but seeing me rise to depart, she stammered out an assurance that he would soon return; which caused me to resume my seat, evidently to her great pleasure.

Seeing this, I condescended to make myself agreeable, and with such effect, that the simple-hearted foolish creature began to tell me how often she had seen me at her father's house a year or two before, when she was a little school-girl, as she said, and how glad she was to see me back again; as if, a year or two before, we had been intimate acquaintances; when, on the contrary, as my associations assured me, I (or my original) had never taken the slightest notice of her – as, in truth, why should I, her father being so much beneath me?

I believe I rather gave her a stare; but she looked so admiringly at me, I could do no less than continue to be agreeable; and, to tell the truth, I was afterward amazed at my condescension.

By-and-by there dropped in one of her brothers, a very fine looking young man for one of his rank in life, but of a dissipated, under-the-table look, and, I thought, somewhat julapized – which is a word that, among certain classes, signifies that one is not sober. However, he behaved with great decorum, and instead of taking a seat, as I expected, to make my acquaintance, he gave me a nod and a laugh, as much as to say, "I know what you're after, my boy," and went stumbling into the back part of the house.

In a few moments after there came another equally good looking, but not so obliging; for he helped himself to a seat without any ceremony, and, with just as little, proceeded to inform "me he supposed I was after dad; but dad was fast on an arbitration, and would not be home for at least three hours."

Poor Alicia, for that was her name (and in this particular she was better provided than my cousin Pattie), gave her brother an angry look; for at this announcement I got up and took my leave. She followed me, however, to the door, and told me if I would come at about eight o'clock on the following evening, I would find her papa at home; and she added, softly, that she would be glad to see me. —She glad to see me! poor soul!

I went, though, according to appointment; and, poor soul, she was glad to see me, as was plain enough, but "sorry that papa had not yet got through with that arbitration; and so I could not see him, unless I would be so good as to wait until he came home; and, if I would, it would be charity, for there was nobody in the house with her except old Barbara, the housekeeper, who was but poor company, – and, indeed, she had but poor company always, living a very lonesome life of it," &c. &c.; and she concluded by promising, if I would sit down, to play me a tune upon the piano!

She played me a tune accordingly, and horrid work she made of it; but, as she did her best, I praised her, and that pleased her. She then, to show me that she was accomplished, introduced me to divers bits of paper with colours on them, which she told me were drawings, and, as I knew but little of such things, I took her word for it; after which she exhibited some two or three dozen handsome-looking volumes in French and Italian, of which languages I knew no more than dandies in general; and for that reason I told her such things were now considered bores, and left to children and schoolmasters.

I perceived we were to have a tête-à-tête of it, and I began to suspect the lassie knew so when she invited me. When this idea entered my mind, I felt a little indignant; yet it was diverting to think of her simplicity. I thought I would amuse myself with her a little while, and unbend from the austerity of dignity, which seemed to gratify her most.

In this humour I permitted myself to be merry and easy; and having romped with her one way and another, much to her delight, I at last seized upon her, and gave her a buss; whereupon she acted pretty much as my cousin Pattie had done before her, – that is, she laughed, and blushed, and cried "Oh la!" but looking all the time any thing but incensed.

In short, my condescension affected her to that degree, that she began to treat me as her most undoubted friend; and, in the height of her confidence, informed me that she was just eighteen years old, minus two months (the very age of my cousin Pattie); that she was her father's favourite (as far as any one could be the favourite of such a curmudgeon); and that besides her fine expectations from him, she enjoyed in her own right a fortune of twenty thousand dollars – a bequest from some old aunt or other – which she would come into possession of as soon as the aforesaid two months and a few odd days had expired.

This was news that affected me very strongly; and had her father been a gentleman, all things considered, I believe I should have made her a declaration on the spot.

As it was, I felt my soul growing tender towards her; for though twenty thousand dollars was but a small sum, it was, if I could take her word for it, certain; which was not yet the case with any of my cousin Pattie's expectations. However, before I could digest the information, we were surprised by the turning of a dead-latch key in the front door, and Alicia cried, with a tone of disappointment, "Oh la! it is papa!" – And so it was.

The old gentleman looked upon the open piano, and the books and drawings upon the table, with surprise, and then upon me with uneasiness.

"Mr. Dawkins has been waiting, papa," said Alicia.

"Humph!" said old Goldfist, and pointed her to the door. She stole me a look, and, as she passed out, raised her hand archly to her lips. She was rather free, I confess; but she had lived a secluded life, and knew no better.