英语天堂-第47部分

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fess　it；　cousin。　I　know　the　feeling　among　some　of　you　northerners　well　enough。　Not　that　there　is　a　particle　of　virtue　in　our　not　having　it；　but　custom　with　us　does　what　Christianity　ought　to　do；—obliterates　the　feeling　of　personal　prejudice。　I　have　often　noticed；　in　my　travels　north；　how　much　stronger　this　was　with　you　than　with　us。　You　loathe　them　as　you　would　a　snake　or　a　toad；　yet　you　are　indignant　at　their　wrongs。　You　would　not　have　them　abused；　but　you　don’t　want　to　have　anything　to　do　with　them　yourselves。　You　would　send　them　to　Africa；　out　of　your　sight　and　smell；　and　then　send　a　missionary　or　two　to　do　up　all　the　self…denial　of　elevating　them　compendiously。　Isn’t　that　it？”
“Well；　cousin；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　thoughtfully；　“there　may　be　some　truth　in　this。”
“What　would　the　poor　and　lowly　do；　without　children？”　said　St。　Clare；　leaning　on　the　railing；　and　watching　Eva；　as　she　tripped　off；　leading　Tom　with　her。　“Your　little　child　is　your　only　true　democrat。　Tom；　now　is　a　hero　to　Eva；　his　stories　are　wonders　in　her　eyes；　his　songs　and　Methodist　hymns　are　better　than　an　opera；　and　the　traps　and　little　bits　of　trash　in　his　pocket　a　mine　of　jewels；　and　he　the　most　wonderful　Tom　that　ever　wore　a　black　skin。　This　is　one　of　the　roses　of　Eden　that　the　Lord　has　dropped　down　expressly　for　the　poor　and　lowly；　who　get　few　enough　of　any　other　kind。”
“It’s　strange；　cousin；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　“one　might　almost　think　you　were　a　professor；　to　hear　you　talk。”
“A　professor？”　said　St。　Clare。
“Yes；　a　professor　of　religion。”
“Not　at　all；　not　a　professor；　as　your　town…folks　have　it；　and；　what　is　worse；　I’m　afraid；　not　a　practiser；　either。”
“What　makes　you　talk　so；　then？”
“Nothing　is　easier　than　talking；”　said　St。　Clare。　“I　believe　Shakespeare　makes　somebody　say；　‘I　could　sooner　show　twenty　what　were　good　to　be　done；　than　be　one　of　the　twenty　to　follow　my　own　showing。’1　Nothing　like　division　of　labor。　My　forte　lies　in　talking；　and　yours；　cousin；　lies　in　doing。”
In　Tom’s　external　situation；　at　this　time；　there　was；　as　the　world　says；　nothing　to　complain　of　Little　Eva’s　fancy　for　him—the　instinctive　gratitude　and　loveliness　of　a　noble　nature—had　led　her　to　petition　her　father　that　he　might　be　her　especial　attendant；　whenever　she　needed　the　escort　of　a　servant；　in　her　walks　or　rides；　and　Tom　had　general　orders　to　let　everything　else　go；　and　attend　to　Miss　Eva　whenever　she　wanted　him；—orders　which　our　readers　may　fancy　were　far　from　disagreeable　to　him。　He　was　kept　well　dressed；　for　St。　Clare　was　fastidiously　particular　on　this　point。　His　stable　services　were　merely　a　sinecure；　and　consisted　simply　in　a　daily　care　and　inspection；　and　directing　an　under…servant　in　his　duties；　for　Marie　St。　Clare　declared　that　she　could　not　have　any　smell　of　the　horses　about　him　when　he　came　near　her；　and　that　he　must　positively　not　be　put　to　any　service　that　would　make　him　unpleasant　to　her；　as　her　nervous　system　was　entirely　inadequate　to　any　trial　of　that　nature；　one　snuff　of　anything　disagreeable　being；　acomording　to　her　acomount；　quite　sufficient　to　close　the　scene；　and　put　an　end　to　all　her　earthly　trials　at　once。　Tom；　therefore；　in　his　well…brushed　broadcloth　suit；　smooth　beaver；　glossy　boots；　faultless　wristbands　and　collar；　with　his　grave；　good…natured　black　face；　looked　respectable　enough　to　be　a　Bishop　of　Carthage；　as　men　of　his　color　were；　in　other　ages。
Then；　too；　he　was　in　a　beautiful　place；　a　consideration　to　which　his　sensitive　race　was　never　indifferent；　and　he　did　enjoy　with　a　quiet　joy　the　birds；　the　flowers；　the　fountains；　the　perfume；　and　light　and　beauty　of　the　court；　the　silken　hangings；　and　pictures；　and　lustres；　and　statuettes；　and　gilding；　that　made　the　parlors　within　a　kind　of　Aladdin’s　palace　to　him。
If　ever　Africa　shall　show　an　elevated　and　cultivated　race；—and　come　it　must；　some　time；　her　turn　to　figure　in　the　great　drama　of　human　improvement。—life　will　awake　there　with　a　gorgeousness　and　splendor　of　which　our　cold　western　tribes　faintly　have　conceived。　In　that　far…off　mystic　land　of　gold；　and　gems；　and　spices；　and　waving　palms；　and　wondrous　flowers；　and　miraculous　fertility；　will　awake　new　forms　of　art；　new　styles　of　splendor；　and　the　negro　race；　no　longer　despised　and　trodden　down；　will；　perhaps；　show　forth　some　of　the　latest　and　most　magnificent　revelations　of　human　life。　Certainly　they　will；　in　their　gentleness；　their　lowly　docility　of　heart；　their　aptitude　to　repose　on　a　superior　mind　and　rest　on　a　higher　power；　their　childlike　simplicity　of　affection；　and　facility　of　forgiveness。　In　all　these　they　will　exhibit　the　highest　form　of　the　peculiarly　Christian　life；　and；　perhaps；　as　God　chasteneth　whom　he　loveth；　he　hath　chosen　poor　Africa　in　the　furnace　of　affliction；　to　make　her　the　highest　and　noblest　in　that　kingdom　which　he　will　set　up；　when　every　other　kingdom　has　been　tried；　and　failed；　for　the　first　shall　be　last；　and　the　last　first。
Was　this　what　Marie　St。　Clare　was　thinking　of；　as　she　stood；　gorgeously　dressed；　on　the　verandah；　on　Sunday　morning；　clasping　a　diamond　bracelet　on　her　slender　wrist？　Most　likely　it　was。　Or；　if　it　wasn’t　that；　it　was　something　else；　for　Marie　patronized　good　things；　and　she　was　going　now；　in　full　force；—diamonds；　silk；　and　lace；　and　jewels；　and　all；—to　a　fashionable　church；　to　be　very　religious。　Marie　always　made　a　point　to　be　very　pious　on　Sundays。　There　she　stood；　so　slender；　so　elegant；　so　airy　and　undulating　in　all　her　motions；　her　lace　scarf　enveloping　her　like　a　mist。　She　looked　a　graceful　creature；　and　she　felt　very　good　and　very　elegant　indeed。　Miss　Ophelia　stood　at　her　side；　a　perfect　contrast。　It　was　not　that　she　had　not　as　handsome　a　silk　dress　and　shawl；　and　as　fine　a　pocket…handkerchief；　but　stiffness　and　squareness；　and　bolt…uprightness；　enveloped　her　with　as　indefinite　yet　appreciable　a　presence　as　did　grace　her　elegant　neighbor；　not　the　grace　of　God；　however；—that　is　quite　another　thing！
“Where’s　Eva？”　said　Marie。
“The　child　stopped　on　the　stairs；　to　say　something　to　Mammy。”
And　what　was　Eva　saying　to　Mammy　on　the　stairs？　Listen；　reader；　and　you　will　hear；　though　Marie　does　not。
“Dear　Mammy；　I　know　your　head　is　aching　dreadfully。”
“Lord　bless　you；　Miss　Eva！　my　head　allers　aches　lately。　You　don’t　need　to　worry。”
“Well；　I’m　glad　you’re　going　out；　and　here；”—and　the　little　girl　threw　her　arms　around　her；—“Mammy；　you　shall　take　my　vinaigrette。”
“What！　your　beautiful　gold　thing；　thar；　with　them　diamonds！　Lor；　Miss；　’t　wouldn’t　be　proper；　no　ways。”
“Why　not？　You　need　it；　and　I　don’t。　Mamma　always　uses　it　for　headache；　and　it’ll　make　you　feel　better。　No；　you　shall　take　it；　to　please　me；　now。”
“Do　hear　the　darlin　talk！”　said　Mammy；　as　Eva　thrust　it　into　her　bosom；　and　kissing　her；　ran　down　stairs　to　her　mother。
“What　were　you　stopping　for？”
“I　was　just　stopping　to　give　Mammy　my　vinaigrette；　to　take　to　church　with　her。”
“Eva”　said　Marie；　stamping　impatiently；—“your　gold　vinaigrette　to　Mammy！　When　will　you　learn　what’s　proper？　Go　right　and　take　it　back　this　moment！”
Eva　looked　downcast　and　aggrieved；　and　turned　slowly。
“I　say；　Marie；　let　the　child　alone；　she　shall　do　as　she　pleases；”　said　St。　Clare。
“St。　Clare；　how　will　she　ever　get　along　in　the　world？”　said　Marie。
“The　Lord　knows；”　said　St。　Clare；　“but　she’ll　get　along　in　heaven　better　than　you　or　I。”
“O；　papa；　don’t；”　said　Eva；　softly　touching　his　elbow；　“it　troubles　mother。”
“Well；　cousin；　are　you　ready　to　go　to　meeting？”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　turning　square　about　on　St。　Clare。
“I’m　not　going；　thank　you。”
“I　do　wish　St。　Clare　ever　would　go　to　church；”　said　Marie；　“but　he　hasn’t　a　particle　of　religion　about　him。　It　really　isn’t　respectable。”
“I　know　it；”　said　St。　Clare。　“You　ladies　go　to　church　to　learn　how　to　get　along　in　the　world；　I　suppose；　and　your　piety　sheds　respectability　on　us。　If　I　did　go　at　all；　I　would　go　where　Mammy　goes；　there’s　something　to　keep　a　fellow　awake　there；　at　least。”
“What！　those　shouting　Methodists？　Horrible！”　said　Marie。
“Anything　but　the　dead　sea　of　your　respectable　churches；　Marie。　Positively；　it’s　too　much　to　ask　of　a　man。　Eva；　do　you　like　to　go？　Come；　stay　at　home　and　play　with　me。”
“Thank　you；　papa；　but　I’d　rather　go　to　church。”
“Isn’t　it　dreadful　tiresome？”　said　St。　Clare。
“I　think　it　is　tiresome；　some；”　said　Eva；　“and　I　am　sleepy；　too；　but　I　try　to　keep　awake。”
“What　do　you　go　for；　then？”
“Why；　you　know；　papa；”　she　said；　in　a　whisper；　“cousin　told　me　that　God　wants　to　have　us；　and　he　gives　us　everything；　you　know；　and　it　isn’t　much　to　do　it；　if　he　wants　us　to。　It　isn’t　so　very　tiresome　after　all。”
“You　sweet；　little　obliging　soul！”　said　St。　Clare；　kissing　her；　“go　along；　that’s　a　good　girl；　and　pray　for　me。”
“Certainly；　I　always　do；”　said　the　child；　as　she　sprang　after　her　mother　into　the　carriage。
St。　Clare　stood　on　the　steps　and　kissed　his　hand　to　her；　as　the　carriage　drove　away；　large　tears　were　in　his　eyes。
“O；　Evangeline！　rightly　named；”　he　said；　“hath　not　God　made　thee　an　evangel　to　me？”
So　he　felt　a　moment；　and　then　he　smoked　a　cigar；　and　read　the　Picayune；　and　forgot　his　little　gospel。　Was　he　much　unlike　other　folks？
“You　see；　Evangeline；”　said　her　mother；　“it’s　always　right　and　proper　to　be　kind　to　servants；　but　it　isn’t　proper　to　treat　them　just　as　we　would　our　relations；　or　people　in　our　own　class　of　life。　Now；　if　Mammy　was　sick；　you　wouldn’t　want　to　put　her　in　your　own　bed。”
“I　should　feel　just　like　it；　mamma；”　said　Eva；　“because　then　it　would　be　handier　to　take　care　of　her；　and　because；　you　know；　my　bed　is　better　than　hers。”
Marie　was　in　utter　despair　at　the　entire　want　of　moral　perception　evinced　in　this　reply。
“What　can　I　do　to　make　this　child　understand　me？”　she　said。
“Nothing；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　significantly。
Eva　looked　sorry　and　disconcerted　for　a　moment；　but　children；　luckily；　do　not　keep　to　one　impression　long；　and　in　a　few　moments　she　was　merrily　laughing　at　various　things　which　she　saw　from　the　coach…windows；　as　it　rattled　along。
*　*　*　*　*　*
“Well；　ladies；”　said　St。　Clare；　as　they　were　comfortably　seated　at　the　dinner…table；　“and　what　was　the　bill　of　fare　at　church　today？”
“O；　Dr。　G——preached　a　splendid　sermon；”　said　Marie。　“It　was　just　such　a　sermon　as　you　ought　to　hear；　it　expressed　all　my　views　exactly。”
“It　must　have　been　very　improving；”　said　St。　Clare。　“The　subject　must　have　been　an　extensive　one。”
“Well；　I　mean　all　my　views　about　society；　and　such　things；”　said　Marie。　“The　text　was；　‘He　hath　made　everything　beautiful　in　its　season；’　and　he　showed　how　all　the　orders　and　distinctions　in　society　came　from　God；　and　that　it　was　so　appropriate；　you　know；　and　beautiful；　that　some　should　be　high　and　some　low；　and　that　some　were　born　to　rule　and　some　to　serve；　and　all　that；　you　know；　and　he　applied　it　so　well　to　all　this　ridiculous　fuss　that　is　made　about　slavery；　and　he　proved　distinctly　that　the　Bible　was　on　our　side；　and　supported　all　our　institutions　so　convincingly。　I　only　wish　you’d　heard　him。”
“O；　I　didn’t　need　it；”　said　St。　Clare。　“I　can　learn　what　does　me　as　much　good　as　that　from　the　Picayune；　any　time；　and　smoke　a　cigar　besides；　which　I　can’t　do；　you　know；　in　a　church。”
“Why；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　“don’t　you　believe　in　these　views？”
“Who；—I？　You　know　I’m　such　a　graceless　dog　that　these　religious　aspects　of　such　subjects　don’t　edify　me　much。　If　I　was　to　say　anything　on　this　slavery　matter；　I　would　say　out；　fair　and　square；　‘We’re　in　for　it；　we’ve　got　’em；　and　mean　to　keep　’em；—it’s　for　our　convenience　and　our　interest；’　for　that’s　the　long　and　short　of　it；—that’s　just　the　whole　of　what　all　this　sanctified　stuff　amounts　to；　after　all；　and　I　think　that　it　will　be　intelligible　to　everybody；　everywhere。”
“I　do　think；　Augustine；　you　are　so　irreverent！”　said　Marie。　“I　think　it’s　shocking　to　hear　you　talk。”
“Shocking！　it’s　the　truth。　This　religious　talk　on　such　matters；—why　don’t　they　carry　it　a　little　further；　and　show　the　beauty；　in　its　season；　of　a　fellow’s　taking　a　glass　too　much；　and　sitting　a　little　too　late　over　his　cards；　and　various　providential　arrangements　of　that　sort；　which　are　pretty　frequent　among　us　young　men；—we’d　like　to　hear　that　those　are　right　and　godly；　too。”
“Well；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　“do　you　think　slavery　right　or　wrong？”
I’m　not　going　to　have　any　of　your　horrid　New　England　directness；　cousin；”　said　St。　Clare；　gayly。　“If　I　answer　that　question；　I　know　you’ll　be　at　me　with　half　a　dozen　others；　each　one　harder　than　the　last；　and　I’m　not　a　going　to　define　my　position。　I　am　one　of　the　sort　that　lives　by　throwing　stones　at　other　people’s　glass　houses；　but　I　never　mean　to　put　up　one　for　them　to　stone。”
“That’s　just　the　way　he’s　always　talking；”　said　Marie；　“you　can’t　get　any　satisfaction　out　of　him。　I　believe　it’s　just　because　he　don’t　like　religion；　that　he’s　always　running　out　in　this　way　he’s　been　doing。”
“Religion！”　said　St。　Clare；　in　a　tone　that　made　both　ladies　look　at　him。　“Religion！　Is　what　you　hear　at　church；　religion？　Is　that　which　can　bend　and　turn；　and　descend　and　ascend；　to　fit　every　crooked　phase　of　selfish；　worldly　society；　religion？　Is　that　religion　which　is　less　scrupulous；　less　generous；　less　just；　less　considerate　for　man；　than　even　my　own　ungodly；　worldly；　blinded　nature？　No！　When　I　look　for　a　religion；　I　must　look　for　something　above　me；　and　not　something　beneath。”
“Then　you　don’t　believe　that　the　Bible　justifies　slavery；”　said　Miss　Ophelia。
“The　Bible　was　my　mother’s　book；”　said　St。　Clare。　“By　it　she　lived　and　died；　and　I　would　be　very　sorry　to　think　it　did。　I’d　as　soon　desire　to　have　it　proved　that　my　mother　could　drink　brandy；　chew　tobacomo；　and　swear；　by　way　of　satisfying　me　that　I　did　right　in　doing　the　same。　It　wouldn’t　make　me　at　all　more　satisfied　with　these　things　in　myself；　and　it　would　take　from　me　the　comfort　of　respecting　her；　and　it　really　is　a　comfort；　in　this　world；　to　have　anything　one　can　respect。　In　short；　you　see；”　said　he；　suddenly　resuming　his　gay　tone；　“all　I　want　is　that　different　things　be　kept　in　different　boxes。　The　whole　frame…work　of　society；　both　in　Europe　and　America；　is　made　up　of　various　things　which　will　not　stand　the　scrutiny　of　any　very　ideal　standard　of　morality。　It’s　pretty　generally　understood　that　men　don’t　aspire　after　the　absolute　right；　but　only　to　do　about　as　well　as　the　rest　of　the　world。　Now；　when　any　one　speaks　up；　like　a　man；　and　says　slavery　is　necessary　to　us；　we　can’t　get　along　without　it；　we　should　be　beggared　if　we　give　it　up；　and；　of　course；　we　mean　to　hold　on　to　it；—this　is　strong；　clear；　well…defined　language；　it　has　the　respectability　of　truth　to　it；　and；　if　we　may　judge　by　their　practice；　the　majority　of　the　world　will　bear　us　out　in　it。　But　when　he　begins　to　put　on　a　long　face；　and　snuffle；　and　e　Scripture；　I　incline　to　think　he　isn’t　much　better　than　he　should　be。”
“You　are　very　uncharitable；”　said　Marie。
“Well；”　said　St。　Clare；　“suppose　that　something　should　bring　down　the　price　of　cotton　once　and　forever；　and　make　the　whole　slave　property　a　drug　in　the　market；　don’t　you　think　we　should　soon　have　another　version　of　the　Scripture　doctrine？　What　a　flood　of　light　would　pour　into　the　church；　all　at