The Adventures of My Cousin Smooth. Timothy Templeton

if I could accommodate a traveller who had been long on the road, and short of shot. I said I was not well to do for room; but as to be obliging was the order of the day, and seeing that he was soon to try another turn by joining the 'Young American' party, I would see what could be done. He had got upon the roof of the institution—just where he could slip backward with great ease, though it took some effort to go forward. Being somewhat infirm of age, I took him gently by the hand and assisted him in, where I thought he might, if he pleased, stand upon a square platform. The General was very polite, bore strongly in his demeanor the marks of time and honor; I could not suppress the capricious thought—that it was time a sly corner in the patent office were provided for political relics of a past age, and he safely stowed away in it. All things of a by-gone age should have their place; notwithstanding, knowing that Uncle Sam and him had tried to be intimate friends, and that he had many warm and substantial voters in the far West, I felt to be less than condescending would be bad political policy. He took a seat, and began to get up his good-nature, as I inquired what earthly mission he could be prosecuting on so dark and cold a night.

      "'Well, now, friend Smooth,' he says: 'I like you, but the question you put so honestly has a point which you cannot see, though I can painfully feel. However, as I have no secrets, I don't mind telling you: it must be private, nevertheless—I am sensitive not to have these matters spread all over the Union. To-night, you see, a conclave of political wranglers met below, in this house. Conscious that they would have a large 'grin' at me, discussing the means by which I have always been the rejected of this great and growing people, I came that my ears might lesson of fools. To this end, I mounted the chimney, and was reconoitering down the black abyss, when my eye turned and caught your light, like a star in tribulation, twinkling from the window. Strange kind of a tribune for a senator, I admit, but I heard many judgments, and from them may draw many more. One reckoned I had stamped with the cold hand of death my political life; always wanting to fight somebody—the English in particular! Another said Virginia and Pennsylvania couldn't approve of my policy—that it was too slow; while New York dare not vote for me, and I was New England's dread. A third said he didn't believe the middle West would back me up, because a doubt existed as to whether other States would. These sentiments I heard from down chimney. My solemn belief is, that I have been sacrificed to a firm and honest belief in the Monroe doctrine; which, singularly enough, had its origin in English minds. My efforts to carry it into effect seemed not to form a tangible objection; though a voice now and then said it might lead to evil consequences, England and France having formed a very unnatural alliance to put down the aggressive spirit of nations, without respect to the side of the Atlantic on which they were domiciled. Then, by way of a suspending clause, they said it was not so much my pugnacious propensities they feared, as that, being an old fogy, full of personal grievances against somebody, I would make the gratifying a venerable spleen paramount to the interests of States (all this I heard from down chimney). That I was not a bad man, nor an inflexible man, they all agreed; but that my time was passed was their verdict, and being passed, I would myself soon pass into political oblivion—nothing being left but executive expectations and ballet-boxes, with which I might build on high a monument! The trouble is, friend Smooth, I am not possessed of the tact of making the nation understand me; had I this all-necessary to political fame, the Chief Magistracy had long since been mine. To me the free press of our country is a sort of infernal machine—its effect in my case strengthens the idea. Having held me up as dangerous, when in truth I am a peaceably disposed man, they have wronged me while misinforming the public.' Here he paused, as his face assumed its wonted seriousness, and that wart, now historical, looked brighter than ever. I had long been desirous of scraping acquaintance with the old man, whom I esteemed much better inside than out, so I offered him half of my shingle, at the same time intimating that we would have some whiskey. At this he lowered his voice, and continued with a slow shake of the head:—'I'm not so bad as I seem. Peradventure I wanted a small chance at the Britishers. I hate them, but that only signifies a trifle. Mr. Pierce, like a horn lantern for which Uncle Caleb and Jeff furnish the light, is fast getting affairs into a fuzzle; this must be so while the light is thus furnished, and the regulation of its burning be left to Grandpapa Marcy. Fact is, you see, Mr. Smooth, the administration is become like a steam-engine, Mr. Pierce being used as a piston by Caleb, Jeff, and Co., who, in addition, furnish Southern-rights for fuel, use patronage as a condenser, and make a safety valve of Papa Marcy. But Papa has yet to take many lessons in National Engineering before his control over the machine is complete.' I watched the old man's anxious eye as he spoke; and again suggested the taking a little whiskey: I pitied him. 'It will set ye all right!' says I, 'it'll take the fogyism all out, warm up yer inards, and make yer ideas come out with the philosophy of a Mara beau. Mr. Pierce loves to traffic in the language of war, but like all little creatures, makes his noise and stops.'

      "'Well, in obedience to my friendship for you, Smooth—and with the knowledge that you are going into business with Uncle Sam—appreciating the 'Young American' party as I do, I don't care if I take. It may revive the hope of 1856. After all, there is something in you New Englanders I like—give us yer hand,' he replied suddenly, as a soft smile spread over his hard face. He commenced wiping his lips, and was so polite. I rang the bell, and up came the negro, his face as full of alarm as a frightened moon in a hail-storm. Alarmed at his appearance, the General sprang to his feet, and was for bolting through the window. 'Don't be scared, General!' says I, trying to suppress a laugh; 'put on the pluck of Young America—niggers then will seem as nothing.' Mr. Pierce pursues this course. General knows it takes somebody to cut a figure in the world; and seeing that these United States constitute a free country, what violation of principle is there in doing with negroes what you please? The steaming punch now awaited us; I filled the General's glass, and he said 'this was a great country, which would soon send Young America out on the world to proclaim manifest destiny.' I said amen, and the punch disappeared into his depot, as he concluded. It was clear his inards warmed, he beginning to brighten up soon after. With a laconic air, he touched me on the elbow, and said, 'Somehow, it seems to touch the right place—I declare it does! I am half inclined to the belief that General Pierce sups formidably of this just before he talks about winding things up in a straight sort of way, all of which he ultimately forgets: the influence of this sort of steam was undoubtedly that which selected Minister Solan Borland the man for Central America. It was not that friend Solan went to settle perplexing questions with that dwarf combination of helpless governments; it was enough that he amused sundry citizens and much annoyed others with the little fracases which, through the power of political steam, he was wont to indulge in.'

      "'Now, Uncle Cass!' said I, interrupting him, at the same time adding a good-natured wink, 'you must excuse Smooth's seeming intrusiveness; but, what do you think of annexation in general, and filibustering and taking Cuba in particular?' At this, the General gave a knowing pause, scratched his head as if it was troubled with something, and then replied with much dryness: 'Ah! the one is a subject popular to-day, the other is fast becoming so: when both are equally popular, we may advocate them with safety. Mr. Pierce understands this policy. That which is popular and holds out advantages must go down in our go-ahead country. According to the axiom of our Southern doctrines we must have Cuba: she must be wedded in political bonds to Cape Florida; not for the purpose of consolidating niggerdom, but merely to complete in that direction the point of manifest destiny.'

      "'Lord love yer political faith, General!' said I, rising up and taking him firmly by the hand.

      "'Ye'll do for the Young America, that ye will! There'll be no more old-fogyism—no more of the slow-coach school! Take another bumper, and you'll be ripe for the new party.' The General, with less dignity than you might have supposed him capable of condescending to, filled his glass, drew his chair back, threw his square figure well over the arms, and roared right out until it became dangerous. At length he began to drink his whiskey, and that stopped his joy for a time. But he soon broke out afresh. 'What on earth is the matter with you, stranger? you ain't going to make a shaking machine of your broad sides, be ye?' says I, giving him a look that would have pierced a stone wall.

      "'You must excuse me, Mr. Smooth, but the principles of your party would make anybody laugh; why!—its sprouting members are all growing out of their breeches. Where, in that stretchy imagination the party possesses, can you find a place for the moon, which of necessity must follow in the train of annexation?' he