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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 once; and how immediately it would be discovered that everything in the Bible and reason went the other way!”
“Well; at any rate;” said Marie; as she reclined herself on a lounge; “I’m thankful I’m born where slavery exists; and I believe it’s right;—indeed; I feel it must be; and; at any rate; I’m sure I couldn’t get along without it。”
“I say; what do you think; Pussy?” said her father to Eva; who came in at this moment; with a flower in her hand。
“What about; papa?”
“Why; which do you like the best;—to live as they do at your uncle’s; up in Vermont; or to have a house…full of servants; as we do?”
“O; of course; our way is the pleasantest;” said Eva。
“Why so?” said St。 Clare; stroking her head。
“Why; it makes so many more round you to love; you know;” said Eva; looking up earnestly。
“Now; that’s just like Eva;” said Marie; “just one of her odd speeches。”
“Is it an odd speech; papa?” said Eva; whisperingly; as she got upon his knee。
“Rather; as this world goes; Pussy;” said St。 Clare。 “But where has my little Eva been; all dinner…time?”
“O; I’ve been up in Tom’s room; hearing him sing; and Aunt Dinah gave me my dinner。”
“Hearing Tom sing; hey?”
“O; yes! he sings such beautiful things about the New Jerusalem; and bright angels; and the land of Canaan。”
“I dare say; it’s better than the opera; isn’t it?”
“Yes; and he’s going to teach them to me。”
“Singing lessons; hey?—you are coming on。”
“Yes; he sings for me; and I read to him in my Bible; and he explains what it means; you know。”
“On my word;” said Marie; laughing; “that is the latest joke of the season。”
“Tom isn’t a bad hand; now; at explaining Scripture; I’ll dare swear;” said St。 Clare。 “Tom has a natural genius for religion。 I wanted the horses out early; this morning; and I stole up to Tom’s cubiculum there; over the stables; and there I heard him holding a meeting by himself; and; in fact; I haven’t heard anything quite so savory as Tom’s prayer; this some time。 He put in for me; with a zeal that was quite apostolic。”
“Perhaps he guessed you were listening。 I’ve heard of that trick before。”
“If he did; he wasn’t very polite; for he gave the Lord his opinion of me; pretty freely。 Tom seemed to think there was decidedly room for improvement in me; and seemed very earnest that I should be converted。”
“I hope you’ll lay it to heart;” said Miss Ophelia。
“I suppose you are much of the same opinion;” said St。 Clare。 “Well; we shall see;—shan’t we; Eva?”
1 The Merchant of Venice; Act 1; scene 2; lines 17…18。
Chapter 17
The Freeman’s Defence
There was a gentle bustle at the Quaker house; as the afternoon drew to a close。 Rachel Halliday moved quietly to and fro; collecting from her household stores such needments as could be arranged in the smallest compass; for the wanderers who were to go forth that night。 The afternoon shadows stretched eastward; and the round red sun stood thoughtfully on the horizon; a