CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL. quadroons. Of the latter are several that are more latter were ever set in smiles: the former smiled only The men are in their work-dresses: loose cotton trousers, with coarse coloured shirts, and hats of palmetto-leaf. A few display dandyism in their attire. Some are naked from the waist upwards, their black skins glistening under the sun like ebony. The women are more gaily arrayed in striped prints, and heads 'toqued' with Madras kerchiefs of brilliant check. The dresses of some are tasteful and pretty. The turban-like coiffure renders them picturesque. Both men and women are alike employed in the business of the plantation-the manufacture of the indigo. Some cut down the plants with reaping-hooks, and tie them in bundles; others carry the bundles in from the fields to the great shed; a few are employed in throwing them into the upper trough, the 'steeper;' while another few are drawing off and 'beating.' Some shovel the sediment into the draining-bags, while All others superintend the drying and cutting out. have their respective tasks, and all seen alike cheerful in the performance of them. They laugh, and chatter, and sing; they give back jest for jest; and scarcely a moment passes that merry voices are not ringing upon the ear. And yet these are all slaves-the slaves of my father. He treats them well; seldom is the lash uplifted: hence the happy mood and cheerful aspect. Such pleasant pictures are graven on my memory, They formed the sweetly and deeply impressed. mise-en-scène of my early life. CHAPTER III. THE TWO JAKES. Every plantation has its 'bad fellow'-often more than one, but always one who holds pre-eminence in evil. 'Yellow Jake' was the fiend of ours. He was a young mulatto, in person not ill-looking, but of sullen habit and morose disposition. On occasions, he had shewn himself capable of fierce resentment and cruelty. Instances of such character are more common among mulattoes than negroes. Pride of colour on the part of the yellow man-confidence in a higher organism, both intellectual and physical, and consequently a keener sense of the injustice of his degraded position, explain this psychological difference. As for the pure negro, he rarely enacts the unfeeling savage. In the drama of human life, he is the victim, not the villain. No matter where lies the scene-in his own land, or elsewhere-he has been used to play the role of the sufferer; yet his soul is still free from In all the world, there is no resentment or ferocity kinder heart than that which beats within the bosom of the African black. Yellow Jake was wicked without provocation. Cruelty was innate in his disposition-no doubt inherited. He was a Spanish mulatto; that is, paternally of Spanish blood-maternally, negro. His father had sold him to mine! A slave-mother, a slave-son. The father's freedom affects not the offspring. Among the black and red races of America, the child follows the fortunes of the mother. Only she of Caucasian race can be the mother of white men. There was another 'Jacob' upon the plantation hence the distinctive sobriquet of 'Yellow Jake.' This other was 'Black Jake;' and only in age and size was there any similarity between the two. In disposition they differed even more than in complexion. If Yellow Jake had the brighter skin, Black Jake had Their countenances exhibited a the lighter heart. complete contrast-the contrast between a sullen frown and a cheerful smile. The white teeth of the Apart from his complexion, Black Jake was not More than once had the two measured their strength, Yellow Jake was our woodman; Black Jake, the curator of the horses, the driver of white massa's' barouche. The story of the two Jakes-their loves and their jealousies-is but a common affair in the petite politique of plantation-life. I have singled it out, not from any separate interest it may possess, but as leading to a series of events that exercised an important influence on my own subsequent history. The first of these events was as follows: Yellow Jake, burning with jealousy at the success of his rival, had grown spiteful with Viola. Meeting her by some chance in the woods, and far from the house, he had offered her a dire insult. Resentment had rendered him reckless. The opportune arrival of my sister had prevented him from using violence, but the intent could not be overlooked; and chiefly through my sister's influence, the mulatto was brought to punishment. It was the first time that Yellow Jake had received chastisement, though not the first time he had deserved it. My father had been indulgent with him; too indulgent, all said. He had often pardoned him when guilty of faults-of crimes. My father was of an easy temper, and had an exceeding dislike to proceed to the extremity of the lash; but in this case my sister had urged, with some spirit, the necessity of the punishment. Viola was her maid; and the wicked conduct of the mulatto could not be overlooked. The castigation did not cure him of his propensity to evil. An event occurred shortly after, that proved he was vindictive. My sister's pretty fawn was found dead by the shore of the lake. It could not have died from any natural cause-for it was seen alive, and skipping over the lawn but the hour before. No alligator could have done it, nor yet a wolf. There was neither scratch nor tear upon it; no signs of blood! It must have been strangled. It was strangled, as proved in the sequel. Yellow Jake had done it, and Black Jake had seen him. From the orange grove, where the latter chanced to be at work, he had been witness of the tragic scene; and his testimony procured a second flogging for the mulatto. A third event followed close upon the heels of this a quarrel between negro and mulatto, that came to blows. It had been sought by the latter to revenge himself, at once upon his rival in love, and the witness of his late crime. The conflict did not end in mere blows. Yellow Jake, with an instinct derived from his Spanish paternity, drew his knife, and inflicted a severe wound upon his unarmed antagonist. This time his punishment was more severe. I was myself enraged, for Black Jake was my body-guard' and favourite. Though his skin was black, and his intellect but little cultivated, his cheerful disposition rendered him a pleasant companion; he was, in fact, the chosen associate of my boyish days-my comrade upon the water and in the woods. Justice required satisfaction, and Yellow Jake caught it in earnest. The punishment proved of no avail. He was incorrigible. The demon spirit was too strong within him: it was part of his nature. CHAPTER IV. THE ном моск. Just outside the orangery was one of those singular formations-peculiar, I believe, to Florida. A circular basin, like a vast sugar-pan, opens into the earth, to the depth of many feet, and having a diameter of forty yards or more. In the bottom of this, several cavities are seen, about the size and of the appearance of dug wells, regularly cylindricalexcept where their sides have fallen in, or the rocky partition between them has given way-in which case they resemble a vast honeycomb with broken cells. The wells are sometimes found dry; but more commonly there is water in the bottom, and often filling the great tank itself. Such natural reservoirs, although occurring in the midst of level plains, are always partially surrounded by eminences-knolls, and detached masses of testaceous rocks; all of which are covered by an evergreen thicket of native trees, as magnolia grandiflora, red bay, zanthoxylon, live-oak, mulberry, and several species of fan-palms (palmettoes). Sometimes these shadowy coverts are found among the trees of the pine-forests, and sometimes they appear in the midst of green savannas, like islets in the ocean. They constitute the 'hommocks' of Florida-famed in the story of its Indian wars. One of these, then, was situated just outside the orangery; with groups of testaceous rocks forming a half-circle around its edge; and draped with the dark foliage of evergreen trees, of the species already mentioned. The water contained in the basin was sweet and limpid; and far down in its crystal depths might be seen gold and red fish, with yellow bream, spotted bass, and many other beautiful varieties of the finny tribe, disporting themselves all day long. The tank was in reality a natural fishpond; and, moreover, it was used as the family bathing-place-for, under the hot sun of Florida, the bath is a necessity as well as luxury. From the house, it was approached by a sanded walk that led across the orangery, and some large stone-flags enabled the bather to descend conveniently into the water. Of course, only the white members of the family were allowed the freedom of this charming sanctuary. Outside the hommock extended the fields under cultivation, until bounded in the distance by tall forests of cypress and white cedar-a sort of impenetrable morass that covered the country for miles beyond. On one side of the plantation-fields was a wide plain, covered with grassy turf, and without enclosure of any kind. This was the savanna, a natural meadow where the horses and cattle of the plantation were freely pastured. Deer often appeared upon this plain, and flocks of the wild turkey. I was just of that age to be enamoured of the chase. Like most youth of the southern states who have little else to do, hunting was my chief occupation; and I was passionately fond of it. My father had procured for me a brace of splendid greyhounds; and it was a favourite pastime with me to conceal myself in the hommock, wait for the deer and turkeys as they approached, and then course them across the savanna. In this manner I made many a capture of both species of game; for the wild turkey can easily be run down with fleet dogs. The hour at which I was accustomed to enjoy this amusement was early in the morning, before any of the family were astir. That was the best time to find the game upon the savanna. One morning, as usual, I repaired to my stand in the covert. I climbed upon a rock, whose flat top afforded footing both to myself and my dogs. From this elevated position I had the whole plain under view, and could observe any object that might be moving upon it, while I was myself secure from observation. The broad leaves of the magnolia formed a bower around me, leaving a break in the foliage, through which I could make my reconnaissance. On this particular morning I had arrived before sunrise. The horses were still in their stables, and the cattle in the enclosure. Even by the deer, the savanna was untenanted, as I could perceive at the first glance. Over all its wide extent not an antler was to be seen. I was somewhat disappointed on observing this. My mother expected a party upon that day. She had expressed a wish to have venison at dinner: I had promised her she should have it; and on seeing the savanna empty, I felt disappointment. I was a little surprised, too; the sight was unusual. Almost every morning, there were deer upon this wide pasture, at one point or another. Had some early stalker been before me? Probable enough. Perhaps young Ringgold, from the next plantation; or maybe one of the Indian hunters, who seemed never to sleep? Certainly, some one had been over the ground, and frighted off the game? The savanna was a free range, and all who chose might hunt or pasture upon it. It was a tract of common ground, belonging to no one of the plantations government land not yet purchased. Certainly Ringgold had been there? or old Hickman, the alligator-hunter, who lived upon the skirt of our plantation? or it might be an Indian from the other side of the river? With such conjectures did I account for the absence of the game. I felt chagrin. I should not be able to keep my promise; there would be no venison for dinner. A turkey I might obtain; the hour for chasing them had not yet arrived. I could hear them calling from the tall tree-tops-their loud 'gobbling' borne far and clear upon the still air of the morning. I did not care for these-the larder was already stocked with them; I had killed a brace on the preceding day. I did not want more-I wanted venison. To procure it, I must needs try some other mode than coursing. I had my rifle with me; I could try a still-hunt' in the woods. Better still, I should go in the direction of old Hickman's cabin; he might help me in my dilemma. Perhaps he had been out already? if so, he would be sure to bring home The sun was just shewing his disc above the horizon; his rays were tinging the tops of the distant cypresses, whose light-green leaves shone with the hues of gold. I gave one more glance over the savanna, before descending from my elevated position; in that glance I saw what caused me to change my resolution, and remain upon the rock. A herd of deer was trooping out from the edge of the cypress woods--at that corner where the rail-fence separated the savanna from the cultivated fields. Ha!' thought I, 'they have been poaching upon the young maize-plants.' I bent my eyes towards the point whence, as I supposed, they had issued from the fields. I knew there was a gap near the corner, with movable bars. I could see it from where I stood, but I now perceived that the bars were in their places! The deer could not have been in the fields then? It was not likely they had leaped either the bars or the fence. It was a high rail-fence, with 'stakes and riders.' The bars were as high as the fence. The deer must have come out of the woods? This observation was instantly followed by another. The animals were running rapidly, as if alarmed by the presence of some enemy. A hunter is behind them? Old Hickman? Ringgold? Who? I gazed eagerly, sweeping my eyes along the edge of the timber, but for a while saw no one. 'A lynx or a bear may have startled them? If so, they will not go far: I shall have a chance with my greyhounds yet. Perhaps ' My reflections were brought to a sudden termination, on perceiving what had caused the stampede of the deer. It was neither bear nor lynx, but a human being. A man was just emerging from out the dark shadow of the cypresses. The sun as yet only touched the tops of the trees; but there was light enough below to enable me to make out the figure of a man-still more to recognise the individual. Ringgold nor Hickman, nor yet an Indian. The dress It was neither I knew well-the blue cottonade trousers, the striped shirt, and palmetto hat. The dress was that worn by our woodman. The man was Yellow Jake. CHAPTER V. THE MULATTO AND HIS FOLLOWER. Not without some surprise did I make this discovery. What was the mulatto doing in the woods at such an hour? It was not his habit to be so thrifty; on the contrary, it was difficult to rouse him to his daily work. He was not a hunter-had no taste for it. I never saw him go after game-though, from being always in the woods, he was well acquainted with the haunts and habits of every animal that dwelt there. What was he doing abroad on this particular morning? I remained on my perch to watch him, at the same time keeping an eye upon the deer. It soon became evident that the mulatto was not after these; for, on coming out of the timber, he turned along its edge, in a direction opposite to that in which the deer had gone. towards the gap that led into the maize-field. He went straight I noticed that he moved slowly and in a crouching attitude. I thought there was some object near his feet: it appeared to be a dog, but a very small one. Perhaps an opossum, thought I. It was of whitish colour, as these creatures are; but in the distance I could not distinguish between an opossum and a puppy. I fancied, however, that it was the pouched animal; that he had caught it in the woods, and was leading it along in a string. 5 this behaviour. The mulatto may have discovered an There was nothing remarkable or improbable in all opossum-cave the day before, and set a trap for the animal. It may have been caught in the night, and that surprised me was, that the fellow had turned he was now on his way home with it. The only point hunter; but I explained this upon another hypothesis. I remembered how fond the negroes are of the flesh to the rule. Perhaps he had seen the day before, that of the opossum, and Yellow Jake was no exception this one could be easily obtained, and had resolved upon having a roast? But why was he not carrying it in a proper rather-for I knew the creature would not be ledmanner? He appeared to be leading or dragging it and every now and then I observed him stoop towards it, as if caressing it! I was puzzled; it could not be an opossum. the gap in the fence. I expected to see him step over I watched the man narrowly till he arrived opposite the bars-since through the maize-field was the nearest way to the house. Certainly he entered the field; but, to my astonishment, instead of climbing over in down to the very lowest. I observed, moreover, that the usual manner, I saw him take out bar after bar, he flung the bars to one side, leaving the gap quite open! He then passed through, and entering among the behind the broad blades of the young maize-plants. corn, in the same crouching attitude, disappeared object that he 'toated' along with him in such a For a while I saw no more of him, or the white singular fashion. over their alarm, and had halted near the middle of I turned my attention to the deer: they had got the savanna, where they were now quietly browsing. But could not help pondering upon the eccentric I bent my eyes toward the place, where I had last seen manœuvres I had just been witness of; and once more the mulatto. nothing of him; but at that moment my eyes rested He was still among the maize-plants. I could see upon an object that filled me with fresh surprise. from the woods, something else appeared in motionJust at the point where Yellow Jake had emerged also coming out into the open savanna. It was a dark object, and from its prostrate attitude, resembled a man crawling forward upon his hands, and dragging his limbs after him. For a moment or two, I believed it to be a mantactics were Indian, but we were at peace with these not a white man-but a negro or an Indian. The people, and why should one of them be thus trailing the mulatto? I say 'trailing,' for the attitude and motions, of whatever creature I saw, plainly indicated that it was following upon the track which Yellow Jake had just passed over. Was it Black Jake who was after him? bered the vendetta that existed between them; I This might have appeared the easiest explanation of At that moment, the golden sun flashed over the savanna. His beams glanced along the green-sward, lighting the trees to their bases. The dark form emerged out of the shadow, and turned head towards the maize-field. The long prostrate body glittered under the sun with a sheen like scaled armour. It was easily recognised. It was not negro-not Indian -not human: it was the hideous form of an alligator! THE LABOURER AND HIS HIRE. My friend, Beaudesert, has detected a vein of poesy in the depths of his soul, and undoubtedly possesses considerable talent for mooning and reverie. He opines that the votaries of song are inadequately remunerated by an ungrateful public. The case of mankind, according to his account, is desperate; for how can they become regenerated in the face of the fact, that an epic of high merit does not pay its expenses of production? Although Mr Beaudesert usually expresses this sentiment in general terms, he is supposed to allude to a certain poem in the Spenserian stanza, by Aubrey B, which has not reached a second edition. On the other hand, Robert Short, Esq., another friend of mine, conversant with cotton fabrics and hosiery goods, observes that B is not obliged to write epics unless he likes; that if such and such a thing is wanted, such and such a thing will be paid for according to its market-value; and that he sees no reason why people should make more fuss about a knack for rhyming, than about thorough acquaintance with useful goods, which hold their colours and wear well. I am happy to find that both gentlemen are agreed upon one point-namely, that musical talent is often exorbitantly overrated; and the whole circle of our acquaintance, with the exception of a gentleman whose son is in the Foreign Office, is of opinion that the salaries of some public servants cannot be reasonably complained of by those fortunate officials. Of course, the expression of these sentiments has given rise to discussion; and it seems a pretty prevalent doctrine relative to the wages of head-work, that 'it's all luck.' For my own part, I do not shut my eyes to the importance of being born with a spoon made of one of the nobler metals in one's mouth; but after making allowance for caprice of fortune, general laws are manifest; and it certainly appears that labour of different kinds is remunerated at very different rates, and not always in proportion to its absolute importance. The point of view from which this fact is contemplated varies with temperament. Some are apt to estimate the absolute value of a thing by its market-price; others seek to adjust the marketprice to the absolute value. The one class sneers at the thinker; the other underrates the practical man. The greater part of labour and capital are employed, directly or indirectly, in satisfying physical requirements; and the usual wages of labour and profits of capital are accordingly determined by the extent of those requirements, and the means which the community possesses of giving quid pro quo. Trade and productive industry, or labour having for its end the practically useful, is of all labour most widely and steadily appreciated. In fact, although what we are imports us more than what we eat,' the lower wants of man's nature are prior to the higher. Amongst practical pursuits, therefore, and the professions which depend on them, every citizen has a certain power of selection; and choosing a career' is always an important topic of discussion in family circles. It may be remarked, however, generally, that ordinary occupations are adopted from the sheer necessity of earning bread and cheese, and not from irrepressible bent of mind urging men to activity in a given direction. Although a certain retired tallow-chandler, impelled by force of habit, and the strong necessity of occupying himself, asked leave to busy himself gratuitously on meltingdays; nevertheless, most men, provided they had ample means, and were not habituate to a certain routine, would decline to follow that or any other calling in the beaten road of life. Without, then, meaning anything derogatory to honest work, rather remembering the laborare est orare of the monks, I assert it to be literally true, that the ordinary callings of men are mercenary in their aim: wages are the inducement to toil. When, however, we pass to those occupations the object of which is to gratify sensuous tastes, we find they are taken up very much in obedience to natural bias. It is of course impossible, in the present complicated state of society, to draw sharp lines of demarcation between the different provinces of human labour. The sensuous wants of man, however, comprise music, dancing, theatrical amusements, and in some part poetry, together with the ornamental arts generally. Since the professors of these arts cultivate them from natural liking, and in a great many cases would pursue them without substantial reward if they were possessed of independent means of living, it is clearly not necessary, in order to secure a sufficient number of recruits, that they should be rewarded according to the rates of purely mercenary callings. Hence, such of this class as possess no more talent than many who have adopted more homely callings, receive less remuneration than they might have received in other walks of life. Those, again, who are gifted with brilliant talents, succeed in obtaining no insignificant reward; for the arts they cultivate are patronised by a large and increasing portion of the community, and afford pleasure and profit to the individuals composing it. Adam Smith points out that a butcher is remunerated at a higher rate than other artisans, because his occupation is none of the pleasantest. This principle applies to the case we are discussing, and still more forcibly to the case which we will next considernamely, that of the class which supplies the spiritual needs of man-spiritual needs as opposed to his physical and sensuous wants. This class of labourers also adopt their several professions from personal bent of mind. Indeed, these pursuits are apparently so opposite in aim to those which are practical, that it is considered almost disgraceful to follow them from mere mercenary motives. Professors of thinking, therefore, who possess only little more than the average ability of cultivated men, receive less remuneration than the corresponding class, who devote themselves to sensuous arts. Yet, in this case too, if the wants supplied are popular and general, the reward is by no means niggardly. Popular men of genius are successful even in point of earnings, for the amount of their profits has been greatly augmented by the spread of popular refinement, and where formerly chief reliance was placed on some wealthy or influential patron, the patronage of the public has been found amply sufficient. There still remains, however, a large class of intellectual pursuits which appeal to only a small portion of the community, chiefly to those engaged in kindred labours. In these cases, it becomes a question whether the patronage of government can be entirely withdrawn with security and propriety. Professors of science, learning, and philosophy are generally dependent for their means of living on that part of their occupation which is immediately beneficial. They are not enabled to devote their whole time to exploring the remote regions of thought, but are expected to make themselves useful in education or practical life. Nor, perhaps, is this to be complained of, for it frequently happens that those are best fitted to bring into practical bearing the results of science and learning, who have penetrated their furthest depths. Several circumstances combine to render abstract CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL. In all studies unremunerative in a pecuniary sense. original investigations, a great deal of labour is unavoidably lost, and the public will not pay for abortive labour if it can possibly avoid the outlay. In the next place, from the very nature of those pursuits, their essential value cannot become recognised and notorious until an extremely high point of popular cultivation is attained. The demand comes after the supply. The public cannot generally appreciate the inception of a science or discovery of an abstract truth. To most men, a bale of goods is an object of greater interest than a new theorem. It is, moreover, unfortunately too true that people do not set themselves rigorously to inquire whence a useful invention derived its origin. They pay for it just as much as they are compelled to by those who furnish its practical application; and the system of patents can only partially remedy this unavoidable injustice. The necessary stringency of patent and copyright laws, shews how little the public can be depended on We esteem it a for a just distribution of reward. very praiseworthy exhibition of charity, when an original discoverer, out of whose hands an invention has been taken, is recompensed by a purse, or his poverty-stricken descendants are redeemed from utter destitution. As human nature is constituted, it is in vain to expect the highest interests of humanity to take up their true relative position. We might as well expect a schoolboy to pay his master out of his pocket-money, as that mankind should labour in order to remunerate those who devote themselves to their instruction. The professors of religion may seem, on a superficial view, to be an exception to this rule. The annual revenues devoted to their support are indeed enormous in the aggregate, and a successful career in the church is not to be sneered at by a prosperous cotton-spinner, or counsel learned in the law; but a little reflection will shew that, in truth, this is no exception. Wherever what is called the voluntary principle' is working, the salaries of ministers of religion are less than those of confidential clerks or expert salesmen. With respect to established churches, the greater part of their revenues were devoted to their service in times when superstitious fear and frantic fanaticism mingled largely with healthy faith, and placed men in an abnormal position. Much is thus accounted for, and when we add to these considerations the fact, that of all instincts in man, religion is perhaps the strongest, the whole phenomenon is adequately explained. Thinkers of the highest class will readily acknowledge, that even the strictest justice and most enlightened reverence for their vocation, do not require their remuneration in pounds, shillings, and pence to equal that of merchants, manufacturers, and professional men. They would readily admit that competency, not wealth, is all they have a claim to. To render the vocations of the poet, scholar, and philosopher so many modes of accumulating fortunes, would be to degrade them. After all, honour, respect, and affection are no mean rewards when they are added to suitable means of livelihood. Beyond a certain point-dependent, of course, on social position and habitual mode of lifewealth, to the low-minded, is mere display, and to the high-minded, is full of responsibility. It is always rash to complain of the necessary nature of things. The adaptation of different modes of life to the exigencies of society, is better than the human intellect, guided by the best social virtues, could à priori invent. There is room for improvement, as there is in everything partially human; and for praise, as there is in everything partially divine. Labour is the honourable lot of man, and by a beautiful adaptation of his nature, idleness is irksome to him. Each in his station, without the aid of brilliant gifts or accidental advantages, may render his life useful and happy according to the measure of Whether or not we patiently acquiesce in the BREAKING-UP À LA FRANÇAISE. Ce 19 Août 184-. MADAME BIDAMONT DE ST MAUR présente ses compliments à Monsieur et Madame Smith, et les prie de vouloir bien lui faire l'honneur d'assister à la distribution des prix, qui aura lieu chez elle le Jeudi 21 Août, à sept heures et demie du soir. 8 bis, Avenue des Demoiselles, Champs Elysées.' Such, as nearly as I can remember, were the contents of a slim little note, addressed Monsieur Smith, Esquire, Avocat, Hôtel des Bouledogues Britanniques,' which Mrs Smith and I found on our breakfast-table at the above-mentioned comfortable establishment, the |