“And yet how little did he suspect that our political partisans would find professional statesmen willing to become the fee’d advocates of their doctrines, after the manner of O’Connell!” rejoined the physician.
“What do you mean?” interrupted I, astonished at the boldness of the remark.
“I mean what I say,” replied he; “I know a senator for whom the manufacturers of his district are said to make an annual purse, on the ground that his Congressional duties interfere with the exercise of his profession as a lawyer.”
“I cannot believe it,” interrupted my friend with some vehemence; “and I will not believe it: but, even if it were true,” added he, with a sardonic smile, “the honourable senator would, for the honour of his State, be the very reverse of the vulgar Irish agitator; one is paid by his rich and respectable constituents, the other by the very beggars of his country! None of our Whig senators, I am sure, would ever condescend to become the hired advocates of the mob.”
“A fine piece of news this!” ejaculated the physician; “but I suspected as much as this when I saw the change wrought on the manners and customs of our people since my absence; how the simple, unsophisticated habits of our citizens have given way to cold formality and conceit,—and how the generous hospitality which was wont to grace our people is fast yielding to a vulgar and ostentatious display of wealth.
“I am actually afraid of meeting my old acquaintance, and it is for this reason you see me play the owl at this late hour; at which, at least, I am allowed to have my own way, without being intruded upon by my friends, or pushed aside by the busy multitude, to whom I must for ever remain an unprofitable stranger.”
FOOTNOTES:
[11] It is well known that, except during the Carnival, the coffee-houses in Paris shut up shortly after the close of the theatres, which is seldom later than twelve o’clock.
[12] In some instances a mere name will answer the purpose of an introduction. Mr. ***, of Boston, meets in Paris Mr. W***, with whom he became acquainted in Philadelphia. “Do you know Chateaubriand?” asks the Bostonian.—“I meet him very often.”—“Is he worth knowing?”—“Most assuredly.”—“Adieu!”—The day following Mr. W*** meets Chateaubriand. “Un drôle de corps that!” says Chateaubriand, “you sent me yesterday.”—“Who, I?”—“Yes, you, sir!”—“Whom?”—“The American.” The conclusion of the dialogue may be imagined.
[13] This, as is well known, is the term applied by the witty Parisians to those distinguished personages whose caricatured busts are exhibited in the principal arcades of the city.