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the clergy actually used cigars in the pulpits, was affirmed on

the authority of Mr. Truck himself, and, coupled with his present

occupation, the point was deemed to be settled. Even Florio yielded,

and his plastic mind soon saw a thousand beauties in the usage, that

had hitherto escaped it. All the literati drew round the captain in a

circle, to enjoy the spectacle, though the honest old mariner

contrived to throw out such volumes of vapour as to keep them at a

safe distance. His four demure-looking neighbours got behind the

barrier of smoke, where they deemed themselves entrenched against the

assaults of sentimental petticoats, for a time, at least.

 

"Pray, Mr. Truck," inquired S.R.P., "is it commonly thought in the

English literary circles, that Byron was a developement of

Shakspeare, or Shakspeare a shadowing forth of Byron?"

 

"Both, marm," said the captain, with a coolness that would have done

credit to Aristabulus, for he had been fairly badgered into

impudence, profiting by the occasion to knock the ashes off his

cigar; "all incline to the first opinion, and most to the last."

 

"What finesse!" murmured one. "How delicate!" whispered a second. "A

dignified reserve!" ejaculated a third. "So English!" exclaimed

Florio.

 

"Do you think, Mr. Truck," asked D.O.V.E. "that the profane songs of

Little have more pathos than the sacred songs of Moore; or that the

sacred songs of Moore have more sentiment than the profane songs of

Little?"

 

"A good deal of both, marm, and something to spare. I think there is

little in one, and more in the other."

 

"Pray, sir," said J.R.P., "do you pronounce the name of Byron's lady-

love, Guy-kee-oh-_ly_, or, Gwy-ky-o-_lee_?"

 

"That depends on how the wind is. If on shore, I am apt to say 'oh-

lee;' and if off shore, 'oh-lie.'"

 

"That's capital!" cried Florio, in an extasy of admiration. "What man

in this country could have said as crack a thing as that?"

 

"Indeed it is very witty," added Miss Monthly--"what does it mean?"

 

"Mean! More than is seen or felt by common minds. Ah! the English are

truly a great nation!--How delightfully he smokes!"

 

"I think he is much the most interesting man we have had out here,"

observed Miss Annual, "since the last bust of Scott!"

 

"Ask him, dear D.O.V.E.," whispered Julietta, who was timid, from the

circumstance of never having published, "which he thinks the most

ecstatic feeling, hope or despair?"

 

The question was put by the more experienced lady, according to

request, though she first said, in a hurried tone, to her youthful

sister--"you can have felt but little, child, or you would know that

it is despair, as a matter of course."

 

The honest captain, however, did not treat the matter so lightly, for

he improved the opportunity to light a fresh cigar, throwing the

still smoking stump into Mrs. Legend's grate, through a lane of

literati, as he afterwards boasted, as coolly as he could have thrown

it overboard, under other circumstances. Luckily for his reputation

for sentiment, he mistook "ecstatic," a word he had never heard

before, for "erratic;" and recollecting sundry roving maniacs that he

had seen, he answered promptly--

 

"Despair, out and out."

 

"I knew it," said one.

 

"It's in nature," added a second.

 

"All can feel its truth," rejoined a third.

 

"This point may now be set down as established," cried Florio, "and I

hope no more will be said about it."

 

"This is encouragement to the searchers after truth," put in Captain

Kant.

 

"Pray, Hon. and Rev. Mr. Truck," asked Lucius Junius Brutus, at the

joint suggestion of Junius Brutus and Brutus, "does the Princess

Victoria smoke?"

 

"If she did not, sir, where would be the use in being a princess. I

suppose you know that all the tobacco seized in England, after a

deduction to informers, goes to the crown."

 

"I object to this usage," remarked Captain Kant, "as irreligious,

French, and tending to _sans-culotteism_. I am willing to admit of

this distinguished instance as an exception; but on all other

grounds, I shall maintain that it savours of infidelity to smoke. The

Prussian government, much the best of our times, never smokes."

 

"This man thinks he has a monopoly of the puffing, himself," Pindar

whispered into the captain's ear; "whiff away, my dear sir, and

you'll soon throw him into the shade."

 

The captain winked, drew out his box, lighted another cigar, and, by

way of reply to the envious remark, he put one in each corner of his

mouth, and soon had both in full blast, a state in which he kept them

for near a minute.

 

"This is the very picturesque of social enjoyment," exclaimed Florio,

holding up both hands in a glow of rapture. "It is absolutely

Homeric, in the way of usages! Ah! the English are a great nation!"

 

"I should like to know excessively if there was really such a person

as Baron Mun-chaw-sen?" said Julietta, gathering courage from the

success of her last question.

 

"There was, Miss," returned the captain, through his teeth, and

nodding his head in the affirmative. "A regular traveller, that; and

one who knew him well, swore to me that he hadn't related one half of

what befel him."

 

"How very delightful to learn this from the highest quarter!"

exclaimed Miss Monthly.

 

"Is Gatty (Goethe) really dead?" inquired Longinus, "or, is the

account we have had to that effect, merely a metaphysical apotheosis

of his mighty soul?"

 

"Dead, marm--stone dead--dead as a door-nail," returned the captain,

who saw a relief in killing as many as possible.

 

"You have been in France, Mr. Truck, beyond question?" observed

Lucius Junius Brutus, in the way one puts a question.

 

"France!--I was in France before I was ten years old. I know every

foot of the coast, from Havre de Grace to Marseilles."

 

"Will you then have the goodness to explain to us whether the soul of

Chat-_to_-bri-_ong_ is more expanded than his reason, or his reason

more expanded than his soul?"

 

Captain Truck had a very tolerable notion of Baron Munchausen and of

his particular merits; but Chateaubriant was a writer of whom he knew

nothing. After pondering a moment, and feeling persuaded that a

confession of ignorance might undo him; for the old man had got to be

influenced by the atmosphere of the place; he answered coolly--

 

"Oh! Chat-_to_-bri-_ong_, is it you mean?--As whole-souled a fellow

as I know. All soul, sir, and lots of reason, besides."

 

"How simple and unaffected!"

 

"Crack!" exclaimed Florio.

 

"A thorough Jacobin!" growled Captain Kant, who was always offended

when any one but himself took liberties with the truth.

 

Here the four wags in the corner observed that head went to head in

the crowd, and that the rear rank of the company began to disappear,

while Mrs. Legend was in evident distress. In a few minutes, all the

Romans were off; Florio soon after vanished, grating his teeth in a

poetical frenzy; and even Captain Kant, albeit so used to look truth

in the face, beat a retreat. The alphabet followed, and even the

Annual and the Monthly retired, with leave-takings so solemn and

precise, that poor Mrs. Legend was in total despair.

 

Eve, foreseeing something unpleasant, had gone away first, and, in a

few minutes, Mr. Dodge, who had been very active in the crowd,

whispering and gesticulating, made his bow also. The envy of this man

had, in fact, become so intolerable, that he had let the cat out of

the bag. No one now remained but the party entrenched behind the

smoke, and the mistress of the house. Pindar solemnly proposed to the

captain that they should go and enjoy an oyster-supper, in company;

and, the proposal being cordially accepted, they rose in a body, to

take leave.

 

"A most delightful evening, Mrs. Legend," said Pindar, with perfect

truth, "much the pleasantest I ever passed in a house, where one

passes so many that are agreeable."

 

"I cannot properly express my thanks for the obligation you have

conferred by making me acquainted with Mr. Truck," added Gray. "I

shall cultivate it as far as in my power, for a more capital fellow

never breathed."

 

"Really, Mrs. Legend, this has been a Byronic night!" observed Pith,

as he made his bow. "I shall long remember it, and I think it

deserves to be commemorated in verse"

 

Fun endeavoured to look sympathetic and sentimental, though the

spirit within could scarcely refrain from grinning in Mrs. Legend's

face. He stammered out a few compliments, however, and disappeared.

 

"Well, good night, marm," said Captain Truck, offering his hand

cordially. "This has been a pleasant evening, altogether, though it

was warm work at first. If you like ships, I should be glad to show

you the Montauk's cabins when we get back; and if you ever think of

Europe, let me recommend the London line as none of the worst. We'll

try to make you comfortable, and trust to me to choose a state-room,

a thing I am experienced in."

 

Not one of the wags laughed until they were fairly confronted with

the oysters. Then, indeed, they burst out into a general and long fit

of exuberant merriment, returning to it, between the courses from the

kitchen, like the _refrain_ of a song. Captain Truck, who was

uncommonly well satisfied with himself, did not understand the

meaning of all this boyishness, but he has often declared since, that

a heartier or a funnier set of fellows he never fell in with, than

his four companions proved to be that night.

 

As for the literary _soiree_, the most profound silence has been

maintained concerning it, neither of the wits there assembled having

seen fit to celebrate it in rhyme, and Florio having actually torn up

an impromptu for the occasion, that he had been all the previous day

writing.

Chapter VII. ("There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the)

times deceased, The which observed, a man may prophesy With a near

aim, of the main chance of things, As yet not come to life."

 

KING HENRY VI

 

The following morning the baronet breakfasted in Hudson Square. While

at table, little was said concerning the events of the past night,

though sundry smiles were exchanged, as eye met eye, and the

recollection of the mystification returned. Grace alone looked grave,

for she had been accustomed to consider Mrs. Legend a very

discriminating person, and she had even hoped that most of those who

usually figured in her rooms, were really the clever persons they

laid claim to be.

 

The morning was devoted to looking at the quarter of the town which

is devoted to business, a party having been made for that express

purpose under the auspices of John Effingham. As the weather was very

cold, although the distances were not great, the carriages were

ordered, and they all set off about noon.

 

Grace had given up expecting a look of admiration from Eve in behalf

of any of the lions of New-York, her cousin having found it necessary

to tell her, that, in a comparative sense at least, little was to be

said in behalf of these provincial wonders. Even Mademoiselle

Viefville, now that the freshness, of her feelings were abated, had

dropped quietly down into a natural way of speaking of these things;

and Grace, who was quick-witted, soon discovered that when she did

make any allusions to similar objects in Europe, it was always to

those that existed in some country town. A silent convention existed,

therefore, to speak no more on such subjects; or if