Nature and Human Nature

by Thomas Chandler Haliburton

“Oh, oh, Mr Slick,” said he, “pray don’t class ladies and niggers together. Oh, I thought you had more gallantry about you than that.”

“Exactly,” sais I, “there is where the shoe pinches. You are a so far and no further emancipationist. You will break up the social system of the south, deprive the planter of his slave, and set the nigger free; but you will not admit him to your family circle, associate with him, or permit him to intermarry with your daughter. Ah, Doctor, you can emancipate him, but you can’t emancipate yourself. You are willing to give him the liberty of a dog; he may sleep in your stable, exercise himself in the coachyard, and may stand or run behind your carriage, but he must not enter the house, for he is offensive, nor eat at your table, for the way he devours his food is wolfish; you unchain him, and that is all. But before the collar was unfastened he was well and regularly fed, now he has to forage for it; and if he can’t pay for his grub, he can and will steal it. Abolition has done great things for him. He was once a life-labourer on a plantation in the south, he is now a prisoner for life in a penitentiary in the north, or an idle vagrant, and a shameless, houseless beggar. The fruit of cant is indeed bitter. The Yankees emancipated their niggers because it didn’t pay to keep slaves. They now want the southern planters to liberate theirs for conscience sake. But here we are on the beach; let us land.”

After taking a survey of the scene from the sight of the old town, we sat down on one of the eastern mounds, and the doctor continued his account of the place. “It took the French twenty-fire years to erect Louisburg,” he said, “and though not completed according to the original design, it cost not less than thirty millions of livres. It was environed, two miles and a half in circumference, with a stone wall from thirty to thirty-six feet high, and a ditch eighty feet wide. There was, as you will see, six bastions and eight batteries, with embrasures for 148 cannon. On the island at the entrance of the harbour, which we just passed, was a battery of thirty twenty-eight pounders, and at the bottom of the port another mounting thirty-eight heavy guns. In 1745, a plan for taking it was conceived by a colonial-lawyer, a Governor of Massachusetts, and executed by a body of New England volunteers, led on by a country trader. History can hardly furnish such another instance of courage and conduct in an undisciplined body, laying siege to a regular constructed fortress like this. Commodore Warren, when first applied to for assistance, declined to afford it, as well because he had no orders as that he thought the enterprise a rash one. He was however at last instructed from home to co-operate with the Yankee troops, and arrived in season to witness the progress of the siege, and receive the whole of the honour which was so exclusively due to the Provincials. This act of insolence and injustice on the part of the British was never forgotten by your countrymen, but the memory of favours is short-lived, and a similar distribution of rewards has lately surprised and annoyed the Canadians. The colonist who raised the militia and saved Canada, as you have justly remarked elsewhere, was knighted, while he who did no more than his duty as an officer in the army, was compensated for two or three little affairs in which the soldiers were engaged by a coronet and a pension.”

“Exactly,” sais I, “what’s sauce for the goose ought to be sauce for the gander; but it seems English geese are all swans.”

“Well, in 1758, it was again taken by the English, who attacked it with an immense and overpowering armament, consisting of 151 sail, and 14,000 men. Profiting by the experience of the Provincials, they soon reduced the place, which it is astonishing could have made any resistance at all against such an overwhelming force. Still, this attack was mostly an English one; and though it dwindles into utter insignificance when compared with the previous capture by the colonists, occasioned a great outbreak of national pride. The French colours were carried in pompous parade, escorted by detachments of horse and foot-guards, with kettle-drums and trumpets, from the palace of Kensington to St Paul’s Cathedral, where they were deposited as trophies, under a discharge of cannon, and other noisy expressions of triumph and exultation. Indeed, the public rejoicings for the conquest of Louisburg were diffused through every part of the British dominions; and addresses of congratulation were presented to the king by a great number of flourishing towns and corporations.”

“Twenty-five years afterwards the colonists, who were denied the credit of their gallant enterprise, made good their claim to it by conquering those who boasted that they were the conquerors themselves.”

“I am glad to hear you say so, Doctor,” said I, “for I concur in it all. The English are liberal, but half the time they ain’t just. Spendin’ money in colonies is one thing, but givin’ them fair play is another. The army complains that all commendation and promotion is reserved for the staff. Provincials complain of similar injustice, but there is this wide difference, the one has the ‘Times’ for its advocate, the other is unheard or unheeded. An honest statesman will not refuse to do justice—a willy poilitician will concede with grace what he knows he must soon yield to compulsion. The old Tory was a man after all, every inch of him.”

“Now,” sais the doctor, “that remark reminds me of what I have long intended to ask you if I got a chance. How is it, Mr Slick, that you, who are a republican, whenever you speak of England are so conservative? It always seemed to me as if it warn’t quite natural. If I didn’t know you, I should say your books were written by a colonist who had used your name for a medium for giving his own ideas.”

“Well,” sais I, “Doctor, I am glad you asked me, for I have thought myself it wasn’t unlikely some folks would fall into that mistake. I’ll tell you how this comes, though I wouldn’t take the trouble to enlighten others, for it kinder amuses me to see a fellow find a mare’s nest with a tee-hee’s egg in it. First, I believe that a republic is the only form of government suited to us, or practicable in North America. A limited monarchy could not exist in the States, for royalty and aristocracy never had an original root there. A military or despotic one could be introduced, because a standing army can do anything, but it couldn’t last long. Liberty is too deeply seated, and too highly prized, to be suppressed for any length of time.

“Now, I like a republic, but I hate a democracy. The wit of man never could have devised anything more beautiful, better balanced, and more skilfully checked, than our constitution is, or rather was; but every change we make is for the worse. I am therefore a conservative at home. On the other hand, the English constitution is equally well suited to the British. It is admirably adapted to the genius, traditions, tastes, and feelings of the people. They are not fitted for a republic. They tried it once, and it failed; and if they were to try it again it would not succeed. Every change they make is also for the worse. In talking therefore as I do, I only act and talk consistently, when I say I am a conservative abroad also.