"'Now, Uncle Cass!' said I, interrupting him, at the same time adding a good-natured wink, 'you must excuse Smooth's seeming intrusiveness; but, what do you think of annexation in general, and filibustering and taking Cuba in particular?' At this, the General gave a knowing pause, scratched his head as if it was troubled with something, and then replied with much dryness: 'Ah! the one is a subject popular to-day, the other is fast becoming so: when both are equally popular, we may advocate them with safety. Mr. Pierce understands this policy. That which is popular and holds out advantages must go down in our go-ahead country. According to the axiom of our Southern doctrines we must have Cuba: she must be wedded in political bonds to Cape Florida; not for the purpose of consolidating niggerdom, but merely to complete in that direction the point of manifest destiny.'
"'Lord love yer political faith, General!' said I, rising up and taking him firmly by the hand.
"'Ye'll do for the Young America, that ye will! There'll be no more old-fogyism—no more of the slow-coach school! Take another bumper, and you'll be ripe for the new party.' The General, with less dignity than you might have supposed him capable of condescending to, filled his glass, drew his chair back, threw his square figure well over the arms, and roared right out until it became dangerous. At length he began to drink his whiskey, and that stopped his joy for a time. But he soon broke out afresh. 'What on earth is the matter with you, stranger? you ain't going to make a shaking machine of your broad sides, be ye?' says I, giving him a look that would have pierced a stone wall.
"'You must excuse me, Mr. Smooth, but the principles of your party would make anybody laugh; why!—its sprouting members are all growing out of their breeches. Where, in that stretchy imagination the party possesses, can you find a place for the moon, which of necessity must follow in the train of annexation?' he inquires seriously.
"'Put it? Why, Gineral, you have been stowed away so long, keeping dog-watch over fogyism, that you don't comprehend how Uncle Sam has been transformed into a go-ahead chap to suit the times. Consul Saunders 'll bridge the Gulf Stream, and thus unite Cuba and Cape Florida; and, his pockets well lined with letter-writing materials, be first to march over it and proclaim manifest destiny to the natives. As for the moon, George will find a place in the compact for her.'
"'But, Mr. Smooth,' says he, 'what in the name of changes be you going to do with so many little kingdoms? A thousand years will scarcely people our present domain! Now, Smooth, I'll cut out a small job for the Young American party:—let them, just to give a specimen of their principles, step across to Europe and help Louis and Uncle John (I hate John, though) whip Nicholas, and turn vacillating, faithless Austria into a republic, with principle and spirit equal to her position as a nation.' The General looked serious as he concluded—so far as whipping Austria was concerned we would be only too glad did she for once throw off her cowardice and afford us an opportunity. She had long played at thimblerig with doty old Mr. John Bull, before whose eyes she had placed the spectacles of fantasy, the changes of which the poor old gentleman's very refined sense and undeniable diplomacy had not permitted him to comprehend. Austria was like the thief who set himself up as umpire to settle between two knaves of his own cloth, and, while he gave advice to both, was securing to himself the very plunder which gave rise to the dispute. Nicholas, John Bull said, was a ruffian of the go-ahead school; but, of the three ruffians, which shall we choose? history may be the teacher! Ruffians, however, may do good at times, in which sense Nicholas was entitled to more consideration than Mister Bull, in his frenzy, was willing to accord. Thus saying, the General and me took another glass, shook hands, and bowed most politely. Again I stretched myself down for the night, as he (promising to call again and have another talk) disappeared out of the window.
[CHAPTER IV.]
MR. SMOOTH'S DREAM.
"Leaving Cass holding on at the slippery roof. I dreamed that the ghost of Benton, in contemplation bestrode the summit of the Rocky Mountains; that 'Young America,' like a Colossus with monster limbs stretched across a world, was endeavouring to wake from their stupor the nations. With a voice like unto lazy thunder murmuring in the distance was he proclaiming his hatred of kings, into whose dominions he threatened to march great armies, and whom he described as curses sent upon the earth by the evil one: for the Evil One sought to promote self, a means to which he found in those intrigues by which he made strong his court—the same was the trade of kings. Again the voice thundered forth—'Here are the instruments that have destroyed a world of human beings, and for a selfish purpose gloated over the blood they had made run in torrents.' I looked, and behold! appeared there before me a terrible devil, of hideous form having two great horns, on one of the long sharp points of which was poised a king, on the other a fat bishop in his lawn. The two perpetual mischief-makers, and desolators thus poised, he came with a hideous roar, threatening to drown them in the river of unrefined common sense. And then there was written in broad letters of fire across the shoulders of this sturdy devil—'Kingcraft and Churchcraft have cursed the nations of the earth, and turned to blight the blessings of the True God!' Again this significant edict vanished, and in its place there came, as in letters of gold, 'Cheap Government and no Established Church—let the nations be ruled in wisdom and right!' This had reference to good old England, not America, for here bishops are known to be meek and good. All this was a dream: but then there came, soaring giant-like, 'Young America,' and manifest destiny which he spread over the land for the benefit of mankind. Then there came a great darkness, followed by a little light that crept feebly onward as if fearing to spread itself on the broad disc of the horoscope—it was the light of Mr. Pierce, beneath which hovered doubtful devils. How rapacious they seemed! They saw the doubts and fears of his little light, and would fain carry him off into purgatory ere it died out. But his saviours came: they were the ghosts of those great lights that founded the pillars of our Republicanism. Down they sat, in ghostly conclave, and with instruments in hand set about driving away the carrier devils and working the problem of Mr. Pierce's political policy. It was impossible!—not all the trigonometry of which they were masters sufficed to aid them in the task. It seemed like attempting to solve the principle of that which never had one. He stood on a platform of sections, each of which turned at a touch, and seemed giving way for want of strength. Indeed, as beheld in the dream, he could play the game of uncertainty through a dozen focuses. The jury of ghosts became sorely perplexed; then they began to put to him some very honest questions, as to what his intentions really were. And while doing this the spirit of Washington, arrayed in glory, looked down upon its feeble successor, and with an ironical smile shook its head.