Nature and Human Nature

by Thomas Chandler Haliburton

“So, sais I, ‘how do you get on now? I suppose responsible government has put an end to all complaints, hain’t it?’

“Sais he, ‘Mr Slick,’ and I saw he felt sore, for he looked like it, and talked like it; ‘Mr Slick,’ said he, ‘kinder niblin’ at the question, I have no remonstrance to make. There is something very repulsive in a complaint. I can’t bear the sound of it myself. It should never be pronounced but in the ear of a doctor, or a police magistrate. Your man with a grievance is everywhere voted a bore. If he goes to the Colonial Office with one, that stout gentleman at the door, the porter, who has the keys of that realm of knowledge and bliss, and knows as much and has as many airs as his master, soon receives an order not to admit him.

“‘Worn out with fatigue and disappointment, the unfortunate suitor finds at last his original grievance merged in the greater one, that he can obtain no hearing and no redress, and he returns to his own province, like Franklin, or the Australian delegate, with thoughts of deep revenge, and visions of a glorious revolution that shall set his countrymen free from foreign dominion. He goes a humble suppliant, he returns an implacable rebel. The restless Pole, who would rather play the part of a freebooting officer than an honest farmer, and who prefers even begging to labour, wanders over Europe and America, uttering execrations against all monarchs in general, and his own in particular, and, when you shake your head at his oft-told tale of fictitious patriotism, as he replaces his stereotyped memorial in his pocket, exhibits the handle of a stiletto, with a savage smile of unmistakeable scoundrelism.’

“‘Poles loom large,’ sais I, ‘in the fogs of London, but they dwindle into poor sticks with us.’

“He was in no temper however to laugh. It was evident he felt deeply, but he was unwilling to exhibit the tender spot. ‘The world, Sir,’ he said, ‘is full of grievances. Papineau’s parliament mustered ninety-two of them at one time, and a Falmouth packet-ship actually foundered with its shifting cargo. What a pity it is that their worthlessness and lightness alone caused them to float! The English, who reverse every wholesome maxim, in this instance pursued their usual course. The sage advice, parcere subjectis, et debilare superbos, was disregarded. The loyalists suffered, the arrogant and turbulent triumphed. Every house, Sir, in the kingdom is infested with grievances. Fathers grieve over the extravagances of their sons, the giddiness of their daughters, and the ceaseless murmurs of their wives, while they in their turn unite in complaining of parental parsimony and meanness. Social intercourse I have long since given up, for I am tired of tedious narratives of the delinquencies of servants and the degeneracy of the times. I prefer large parties, where, although you know the smile hides the peevish temper, the aching heart, the jealous fear, and the wounded pride; yet it is such a great satisfaction to know there is a truce to complaints, that I prefer its many falsehoods to unceasing wailings over the sad realities of life.’

“This was no answer, but something to bluff me off. I saw he was unwilling to speak out, and that it was a mere effort to button up and evade the subject. So to draw him out, I said,

“‘Well, there is one thing you can boast. Canada is the most valuable and beautiful appendage of the British Crown.’

“‘England may boast of it as such,’ he said, ‘but I have no right to do so. I prefer being one of the pariahs of the empire, a mere colonist, having neither grade nor caste, without a country of my own, and without nationality. I am a humble man, and when I am asked where I come from, readily answer, the Chaudiere River. Where is that? Out of the world? Extra flammantia limina mundi. What is the name of your country? It is not a country, it is only a place. It is better to have no flag than a borrowed one. If I had one I should have to defend it. If it were wrested from me I should be disgraced, while my victorious enemy would be thanked by the Imperial Legislature, and rewarded by his sovereign. If I were triumphant, the affair would be deemed too small to merit a notice in the Gazette. He who called out the militia, and quelled amid a shower of balls the late rebellion, was knighted. He who assented amid a shower of eggs to a bill to indemnify the rebels, was created an earl. Now to pelt a governor-general with eggs is an overt act of treason, for it is an attempt to throw off the yoke. If therefore he was advanced in the peerage for remunerating traitors for their losses, he ought now to assent to another act for reimbursing the expenses of the exhausted stores of the poultry yards, and be made a marquis, unless the British see a difference between a rebel mob and an indignant crowd, between those whose life has been spent in hatching mischief, and those who desired to scare the foul birds from their nests.

“‘If that man had been a colonist, the dispatch marked ‘private’ would have said, ‘It sarved you right,’ whereas it announced to him, ‘You are one of us,’ and to mark our approbation of your conduct, you may add one of these savoury missiles to your coat of arms, that others may be egged on to do their duty. Indeed, we couldn’t well have a flag of our own. The Americans have a very appropriate and elegant one, containing stripes emblematical of their slaves, and stars to represent their free states, while a Connecticut goose typifies the good cheer of thanksgiving day. It is true we have the honour of fighting under that of England; but there is, as we have seen, this hard condition annexed to it, we must consent to be taxed, to reimburse the losses of those whom by our gallantry we subdue. If we take Sebastopol, we must pay for the damage we have done. We are not entitled to a separate flag, and I am afraid if we had one we should be subject to ridicule. A pure white ground would prefigure our snow drifts; a gull with outspread wings, our credulous qualities; and a few discoloured eggs, portray our celebrated missiles. But what sort of a flag would that be? No, Sir, these provinces should be united, and they would from their territorial extent, their commercial enterprise, their mineral wealth, their wonderful agricultural productions, and, above all, their intelligent, industrious, and still loyal population, in time form a nation second to none on earth, until then I prefer to be a citizen of the world.

“‘I once asked an Indian where he lived, I meant of course where his camp was, but the question was too broad, and puzzled him. Stretching out his arm and describing a circle with his heel, he said, ‘I live in all these woods!’ Like him, I live in all this world. Those who, like the English and Americans, have appropriated so large a portion of it to themselves, may severally boast, if they think proper, of their respective governments and territories. My boast, Sir, is a peculiar one, that I have nothing to boast of.’