Chapter V

Bought a pair of gloves; dry-goods stores the genuine schools of politeness—true Parisian manners there—got a pair of gloves and a pistareen’s worth of bows for a dollar—dog cheap!—Courtlandt street corner—famous place to see the belles go by—query, ever been shopping with a lady?—some account of it—ladies go into all the shops in the city to buy a pair of gloves—good way of spending time, if they have nothing else to do.—Oswego market—looks very much like a triumphal arch—some account of the manner of erecting them in ancient times; digression to the arch-duke Charles, and some account of the ancient Germans. N. B.—quote Tacitus on this subject.—Particular description of market-baskets, butcher’s blocks, and wheelbarrows;—mem. queer things run upon one wheel!—Saw a cartman driving full tilt through Broadway—run over a child—good enough for it—what business had it to be in the way?—Hint concerning the laws against pigs, goats, dogs, and cartmen,—grand apostrophe to the sublime science of jurisprudence;—comparison between legislators and tinkers; query, whether it requires greater ability to mend a law than to mend a kettle?—inquiry into the utility of making laws that are broken a hundred times a day with impunity;—my Lord 274Coke’s opinion on the subject; my Lord a very great man—so was Lord Bacon: a good story about a criminal named Hog claiming relationship with him.—Hogg’s porter-house;—a great haunt of Will Wizard; Will put down there one night by a sea-captain, in an argument concerning the era of the Chinese empire Whangpo;—Hogg’s a capital place for hearing the same stories, the same jokes, and the same songs every night in the year—mem. except Sunday nights; fine school for young politicians too—some of the longest and thickest heads in the city come there to settle the nation.—Scheme of Ichabod Fungus to restore the balance of Europe;—digression;—some account of the balance of Europe; comparison between it and a pair of scales, with the Emperor Alexander in one and the Emperor Napoleon in the other: fine fellows—both of a weight, can’t tell which will kick the beam:—mem. don’t care much either—nothing to me:—Ichabod very unhappy about it—thinks Napoleon has an eye on this country—capital place to pasture his horses, and provide for the rest of his family.—Dey street—ancient Dutch name of it, signifying murderers’ valley, formerly the site of a great peach orchard; my grandmother’s history of the famous Peach war—arose from an Indian stealing peaches out of this orchard; good cause as need be for a war; just as good as the balance of power. Anecdote of war between two Italian states about a bucket; introduce some capital new truisms about the folly of mankind, the ambition of kings, potentates, and princes; particularly Alexander, 275Cæsar, Charles the XIIth, Napoleon, little King Pepin, and the great Charlemagne.—Conclude with an exhortation to the present race of sovereigns to keep the king’s peace, and abstain from all those deadly quarrels which produce battle, murder, and sudden death—mem.—ran my nose against a lamp-post—conclude in great dudgeon.

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR.

Our cousin Pindar, after having been confined for some time past with a fit of the gout, which is a kind of keepsake in our family, has again set his mill going, as my readers will perceive. On reading his piece I could not help smiling at the high compliments which, contrary to his usual style, he has lavished on the dear sex. The old gentleman, unfortunately observing my merriment, stumped out of the room with great vociferation of crutch, and has not exchanged three words with me since. I expect every hour to hear that he has packed up his movables, and, as usual in all cases of disgust, retreated to his old country house.

Pindar, like most of the old Cockloft heroes, is wonderfully susceptible to the genial influence of warm weather. In winter he is one of the most crusty old bachelors under heaven, and is wickedly addicted to sarcastic reflections of every kind, particularly on the little enchanting foibles and 276whimwhams of women. But when the spring comes on, and the mild influence of the sun releases nature from her icy fetters, the ice of his bosom dissolves into a gentle current which reflects the bewitching qualities of the fair; as in some mild, clear evening, when nature reposes in silence, the stream bears in its pure bosom all the starry magnificence of heaven. It is under the control of this influence he has written his piece; and I beg the ladies, in the plenitude of their harmless conceit, not to flatter themselves that because the good Pindar has suffered them to escape his censures he had nothing more to censure. It is but sunshine and zephyrs which have wrought this wonderful change; and I am much mistaken if the first northeaster don’t convert all his good nature into most exquisite spleen.

FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ.

How often I cast my reflections behind,

And call up the days of past youth to my mind,

When folly assails in habiliments new,

When fashion obtrudes some fresh whimwham to view;

When the foplings of fashion bedazzle my sight,

Bewilder my feelings—my senses benight;

I retreat in disgust from the world of to-day,

To commune with the world that has mouldered away;

277To converse with the shades of those friends of my love,

Long gather’d in peace to the angels above.

In my rambles through life should I meet with annoy,

From the bold, beardless stripling—the turbid, pert boy—

One reared in the mode lately reckon’d genteel,

Which, neglecting the head, aims to perfect the heel;

Which completes the sweet fopling while yet in his teens,

And fits him for fashion’s light changeable scenes;

Proclaims him a man to the near and the far,

Can he dance a cotillon or smoke a cigar;

And though brainless and vapid as vapid can be,

To routs and to parties pronounces him free:—

O, I think on the beaux that existed of yore,

On those rules of the ton that exist now no more!

I recall with delight how each yonker at first

In the cradle of science and virtue was nursed:

—How the graces of person and graces of mind,

The polish of learning and fashion combined,

Till softened in manners and strengthened in head,

By the classical lore of the living and dead,

Matured in his person till manly in size,

He then was presented a beau to our eyes!

My nieces of late have made frequent complaint

That they suffer vexation and painful constraint,

By having their circles too often distrest

By some three or four goslings just fledged from the nest,

Who, propp’d by the credit their fathers sustain,

278Alike tender in years and in person and brain,

But plenteously stock’d with that substitute, brass,

For true wits and critics would anxiously pass.

They complain of that empty sarcastical slang,

So common to all the coxcombical gang,

Who the fair with their shallow experience vex,

By thrumming forever their weakness of sex;

And who boast of themselves, when they talk with proud air

Of Man’s mental ascendency over the fair.

’Twas thus the young owlet produced in the nest,

Where the eagle of Jove her young eaglets had prest,

Pretended to boast of his royal descent,

And vaunted that force which to eagles is lent.

Though fated to shun with his dim visual ray,

The cheering delights and the brilliance of day;

To forsake the fair regions of ether and light,

For dull moping caverns of darkness and night:

Still talk’d of that eagle-like strength of the eye,

Which approaches unwinking the pride of the sky,

Of that wing which unwearied can hover and play

In the noon-tide effulgence and torrent of day.

Dear girls, the sad evils of which ye complain

Your sex must endure from the feeble and vain,

’Tis the commonplace jest of the nursery scapegoat,

’Tis the commonplace ballad that croaks from his throat;

He knows not that nature—that polish decrees,

279That women should always endeavor to please:

That the law of their system has early imprest

The importance of fitting themselves to each guest;

And, of course, that full oft when ye trifle and play,

’Tis to gratify triflers who strut in your way.

The child might as well of its mother complain,

As wanting true wisdom and soundness of brain;

Because that, at times, while it hangs on her breast,

She with a “lullaby-baby” beguiles it to rest.

’Tis its weakness of mind that induces the strain,

For wisdom to infants is prattled in vain.

’Tis true at odd times, when in frolicsome fit,

In the midst of his gambols, the mischievous wit

May start some light foible that clings to the fair

Like cobwebs that fasten to objects most rare,—

In the play of his fancy will sportively say

Some delicate censure that pops in his way.

He may smile at your fashions, and frankly express

His dislike of a dance or a flaming red dress;

Yet he blames not your want of man’s physical force,

Nor complains though ye cannot in Latin discourse.

He delights in the language of nature ye speak,

Though not so refined as true classic Greek.

He remembers that Providence never design’d

Our females like suns to bewilder and blind;

But like the mild orb of pale ev’ning serene,

Whose radiance illumines, yet softens the scene,

280To light us with cheering and welcoming ray,

Along the rude path when the sun is away.

I own in my scribblings I lately have nam’d

Some faults of our fair which I gently have blam’d,

But be it forever by all understood,

My censures were only pronounc’d for their good.

I delight in the sex; ’tis the pride of my mind.

To consider them gentle, endearing, refin’d;

As our solace below, in the journey of life,

To smooth its rough passes—to soften its strife:

As objects intended our joys to supply,

And to lead us in love to the temples on high.

How oft have I felt, when two lucid blue eyes,

As calm and as bright as the gems of the skies,

Have beam’d their soft radiance into my soul,

Impress’d with an awe like an angel’s control!

Yes, fair ones, by this is forever defin’d

The fop from the man of refinement and mind;

The latter believes ye in bounty were given

As a bond upon earth of our union with heaven;

And if ye are weak and are frail, in his view

’Tis to call forth fresh warmth and his fondness renew.

’Tis his joy to support these defects of your frame,

And his love at your weakness redoubles its flame;

He rejoices the gem is so rich and so fair,

And is proud that it claims his protection and care.

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