and am not much in the habit of boasting of my Fudge ancestry. My habit of living will appear as I push on toward the end of my papers. It would be bad policy to make any special exhibition at this early period. My opinion is, that in this country a man must stand upon his own feet, and not upon the decayed feet of any family ancestors. It is pleasant to be a member of one of the first families, such as the Fudges undoubtedly are, and, if assertion can retain the place, will unquestionably continue to be. Individuality seems to me the best stamp and seal that a man can carry if he cannot carry that, it will take a great deal to carry him. If a man's own heart and energy are not equal to the making of his fortune, he will find, I think, a very poor resort in what Sir Tommy Overbury calls the potato-fields of his ancestors,' meaning, by that cheerful figure, that all there is good about the matter is below ground. I shall stand then simply upon my merits and my name and if my cousins Bridget and Jemima question my hardihood, my only reply will be- Fudge! If outside casuists are disposed to dispute my character and ridicule my connections, I shall still invariably meet them imperturbably, with a simple-Fudge! In case the reply should not prove satisfactory, and the hungry critics should belabor me, after their usual fashion, as a man of no calibre and of but little dignity, I shall still sustain my first-mentioned position, and meet all their cavils with a single reply; and that reply will be-FUDGE ! CHAPTER SECOND. MY UNCLE SOLOMON. 'STATIO in Dignitatibus, res lubrica est.'- VERULAM, SERM. FID. XI. MR. SOLOMON FUDGE is not a man to be sneered at. His friends all know it; and he knows it better than his friends. I have referred to him already. At present I mean to draw his portrait. He will be flattered, doubtless; this is natural in nephews, and in artists. He will feel flattered also; yet I have no doubt that he will meet me in a very indignant manner, and say to me, with a great show of dignity-perhaps adjusting his shirt-collar meantime-Tony, you should have known better than this; you should have considered, Sir, our family position. Mrs. Fudge, Sir, your aunt, (before referred to as a stout woman,) is a lady of delicacy; great delicacy, I may say?' I expect this, and am prepared for it. I shall reply: 'Uncle Solomon, you know you are glad to be noticed: you know that you possess a cheerful fondness for distinction. You are not to be blamed. No man is: you are worthy of it.' Whereupon my uncle Solomon will take off his gold spectacles, pass them from one hand to the other, in an eccentric yet methodical manner, which is a way he has of collecting his thoughts. 'Tony,' he will continue, 'I beg you will be discreet. Ridicule, Sir, I shall not bear, even from a Fudge.' To which I shall reply, in a kind way: "Uncle Solomon- FUDGE!' I now proceed with my portrait. Mr. Solomon Fudge is a stout man, with white hair. He usually wears a white cravat; a clean one every morning, as he has himself told me, and an extra one when he invites a friend to dine with him. He is a merchant, and lives in the Avenue; he has also a country-seat at Astoria. If he were to die-I hope he will not- he would be mentioned by the Wall-street journals (for the first time) as an eminent merchant, liberal, distinguished, and leaving a large family, inconsolable. He began life as errand-boy in a large jobbing establishment: he swept out the store at sun-rise; he has often told me of it; not very often, however, of late years. I am of the opinion that it is only latterly that he has begun to form proper notions about family dignity. At the time of his being alderman for the first time, he seemed proud of his rise in the world. He is now above being alderman. He looks upon aldermen generally as moderate men. He has once been mayor; he now regards even mayors as mere city contingencies. Still, however, he often refers to the year when he was in authority; a remarkable year, he thinks it was, for clean streets and good order. Most retired mayors, I observe, hold the same opinion in regard to the period of their mayorship. It is very natural; and in some particular instances, I dare say it may be justifiable. Mr. Solomon Fudge is a bank-officer in Wall-street. You may see him on discount-days, luxuriating in a stuffed chair and easy posture. One arm will very likely be stretched out upon the table; the other will fall carelessly upon the elbow of his chair. He appears to enjoy the sunshine. His gold-bowed spectacles will be raised upon the upper part of his forehead, and rest with great apparent security over that portion of the brain where phrenologists usually locate the bump of benevolence. As I remarked, the bump does not interfere with my uncle's spectacles. His words are slow and measured, as becomes a man of his grave aspect and undoubted family. He is cautious in his expression of opinion; and only ventures upon decided approval of accommodation paper' when he is very sure of his man, or when the applicant's wife has been in a position to show favors to Mr. Solomon Fudge's wife. Uneasy and anxious-looking men, full of business, and in need of loans, he regards with a very proper degree of distaste. Few visitors can call my Uncle Solomon from his chair, or-what is a still stronger mark of deference-occasion the withdrawal of the gold-bowed spectacles from the secure position already hinted at. If I were to except any, it would be a certain dashing broker, of whom Mr. Fudge has a trifling fear, or some gray-headed curmudgeon who is a federal officer, or some visiting English merchant; or, yet again, some old lawyer of reputation. The newspapers he reads with a kindly and patronizing interest, having little respect, however, for any thing smaller than the huge folios of Wall-street. All young men and new men in the province of journalism, are very properly treated with contempt. He makes an exception in favor of one of the small morning newspapers, which is distinguished for its advocacy of the tariff. He hopes it may eventuate' (that 6 is his style of language) in something practical. The truth is, my uncle Solomon has no inconsiderable interest in a manufacturing establishment in the country, which is just now running at half-time, and with very small show of profits. If he could sell at a fair figure, I think he would subscribe, without solicitude, to the tenets of the Journal of Commerce. He is usually a cautious man, and rarely makes a false step. Just now, indeed, he is feeling a little sore in respect of a large purchase of the Dauphin stock. The affair, however, came so well recommended, with such distinguished patronage, and the sample-coal burned with such a cheerful flame, that he thought it little worth his while to examine into the nature of the veins, or the probability of very frequent and surprising 'faults. The consequence is, he is down for some fifteen thousand present valuation, which I greatly fear may stand him in some two-score. My uncle Solomon is a vestry-man; and though not a church member, he has a most respectable opinion of the whole scheme of religion: he believes it ought to be supported; he means to do it. He pays a high price for his pew; he invites the clergyman to dine with him; he foregoes his extra bottle of wine on such days; he feels a better man for it; he humors his wife in a fat subscription to the indigent orphan asylum; he subscribes for the 'Churchman;' he sometimes reads it. He is the proprietor of one of the most magnificent Bibles upon the Avenue, to say nothing of a set of prayer-books, with solid gold clasps, guaranteed as such by Mr. Appleton the senior, and corroborated by actual inspection of Ball, Tompkins and Black. His charities, notwithstanding what I have hinted about the spectacles and the organ of benevolence, are upon that large scale which is such a favorite with the established gentlemen of the town. By established gentlemen, I refer to such as have a great reputation for respectability, wealth, white cravats, dignity, composure, and good taste in wives and wines. By the large scale of charities, I refer to those mission societies which publish yearly lists of distinguished donors to public dinners, aid to political enterprises, Union committees, and purchase of ten per cent. bonds of western railways, (secured by mortgage on timber lands,) which are represented to be in a needy condition, and worthy objects of eastern charity. Indigent men about town- I do not here refer to myself-and poor cousins, do not stir to any considerable degree Mr. Solomon Fudge's benevolence. He has good reason to show why. He thinks every man should take care of himself. What is true of men is true of women. He thinks there is great reason to apprehend imposture. He has known repeated instances of the grossest imposture. He fears that the poor not go to church. He thinks men should be cautious. He is cautious, saving the Dauphin speculation. do Upon the whole, Mr. Solomon Fudge is what people call an estimable man. Jemima and Bridget both regard him with considerable awe. Street-folk generally look up to him. There is not a man in the whole city-and on this point I challenge investigation-who is treated with more deference by his coachman and his grocer. I have myself considerable esteem for my uncle. He is a portly man, calculated to impress. He does not dress shabbily, saving rather too much dandruff on his coat-collar. I have recommended a wash: he slighted it. His wines are good, with the exception of the last lot, purchased at a bargain' from the Messrs. Leeds. He has a few boxes left of some mild old Havannas, the gift of a tenant, who begged a month's deferment of quarter-day, and ran off in the interval. Mr. Solomon Fudge has a small opinion of the cigars: I insist that they are good. Mrs. Fudge, the wife of my uncle Solomon, and naturally my aunt-by marriage-I entertain a cheerful regard for. I am of opinion that she entertains much the same feeling for me. Neither her person nor character can be digested hastily. She will fill a chapter. I shall therefore devote my next chapter to an exhibition and discussion of my uncle's wife, MRS. SOLOMON FUDGE. A TRIBUTE. SCOTIA, LAND OF LAKE AND MOUNTAIN.' OF Lomond's wave and Katrine's tide, And who may tune a later lay, Where Doon's fair river glideth slow; And walls that hide no witches' play, Who sings within that cottage low, Where first he saw the light, Whom all as Scotia's minstrel know? Who strikes the harp where sullen Tweed For there the mighty 'Wizard' sleeps! Half silvered o'er by 'pale moonlight,' As once to DELORAINE's rapt sight; GRAHAM of Claverhouse, who fell, in the moment of victory, at the battle of the Pass of Killicrankie. I sing less classic ground, perchance, The waves I hail no bard hath known; When billows huge round Ailsa rise, To thee, safe heaven, from the deep! May HEAVEN its smiles upon thee keep, When last I saw thy cherished wave, As swift away our vessel flew, Beneath whose daisy-sprinkled sod No fulsome words their deeds declare, To thee, whose welcome was the first, Far, far away!-my simple song, Loch Ryan-erst of many isles,'* Long lost the memories may prolong, That soothe me with their pleasant wiles: While Hope re-trims her gleeful sail, Whose favoring breath will bid her steer Boston, Mass., October, 1851. WILLIAM WALLACE MORLAND. + RYAN, it is said, signifles islands, or many islets: none now exist in the loch. |