Part 4 (1/2)

Oph. How can you let her?

St. C. Why not?

Oph. Why, I don't know, it seems so dreadful!

St. C. You would think no harm in a child's caressing a large dog, even if he was black; but a creature that can think, and reason, and feel, and is immortal, you shudder at; confess 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. Is n't that it?

Oph. Well, cousin, there may be some truth in this.

St. C. What would the poor and lowly do, without children? 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.

Oph. It 's strange, cousin; one might almost think you were a professor, to hear you talk.

St. C. A professor?

Oph. Yes; a professor of religion.

St. C. Not at all; not a professor, as your town folks have it; and, what it worse, I 'm afraid, not a practiser either.

Oph. What makes you talk so, then?

St. C. Nothing is easier than talking. I believe Shakspeare makes somebody say, ”I could sooner teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow my own teaching.” Nothing like division of labor. My forte lies in talking, and yours, cousin, lies in doing.

SCENE III.--Sabbath Morning. The Hall.

Enter MARIE and MISS OPHELIA, dressed for church. Marie. Where 's Eva?

Ophelia. The child stopped on the stairs, to say something to Mammy.

Enter EVA. Mar. Eva, what were you stopping for?

Eva. I was just stopping to give Mammy my vinaigrette, to take to church with her.

Mar. Eva! your gold vinaigrette to Mammy!. When will you learn what 's proper? Go right and take it back, this moment!

Enter ST. CLARE. St. C. I say, Marie, let the child alone; she shall do as she pleases.

Mar. St. Clare, how will she ever get along in the world?

St. C. The Lord knows; but she 'll get along in heaven better than you or I.

Eva. O papa! don't; it troubles mother.

Oph. Well, cousin, are you ready to go to meeting?

St. C. I 'm not going, thank you.

Mar. I do wish St. Clare ever would go to church; but he has n't a particle of religion about him. It really is n't respectable.

St. C. I know it. 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 do go at all, I would go where Mammy goes; there 's something to keep a fellow awake there, at least.

Mar. What! those shouting Methodists? Horrible!

St. C. 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.

Eva. Thank you, papa, but I 'd rather go to church.

St. C. Is n't it dreadful tiresome?

Eva. I think it is tiresome, some, and I am sleepy, too; but I try to keep awake.

St. C. What do you go for, then?

Eva. Why, you know, papa, cousin told me that G.o.d wants to have us; and he gives us everything, you know; and it is n't much to do it, if he wants us to. It is n't so very tiresome, after all.

St. C. You sweet little obliging soul! go along, that 's a good girl; and pray for me.

Eva. Certainly, I always do.

[Exeunt.] St. C. [Solus.] O Evangeline! rightly named; hath not G.o.d made thee an evangel to me?

SCENE IV.--The Dinner Table. ST. CLARE, MARIE, OPHELIA, EVA, SERVANTS.

St. Clare. Well, ladies, and what was the bill of fare at church to-day?

Marie. O, Dr. G----- preached a splendid sermon! It was just such a sermon as you ought to hear; it expressed all my views exactly.

St. C. How very improving! The subject must have been an extensive one.

Mar. Well, I mean all my views about society, and such things. The text was, ”He hath made everything beautiful in its season;” and he showed how all the orders and distinctions in society came from G.o.d; 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 inst.i.tutions so convincingly, I only wish you 'd heard him.

St. C. O, I did n't need it! 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.

Oph. Why, don't you believe in these views?

St. C. 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 will be intelligible to everybody everywhere.

Mar. I do think, Augustine, you are so irreverent! I think it 's shocking to hear you talk.

St. C. 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 gla.s.s 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 G.o.dly too.

Oph. Well, do you think slavery right or wrong?