to say “nawthin’.” While Jason showed himself so much of a purist with these and many other words, he was guilty of some of the grossest possible mistakes, that were directly in opposition to his own theory. Thus, while he affectedly pronounced “none,” (nun,) as “known,” he did not scruple to call “stone,” “stun,” and “home,” “hum.” The idea of pronouncing “clerk,” as it should be, or “clark,” greatly shocked him, as it did to call “hearth,” “h’arth;” though he did not hesitate to call this good earth of ours, the “‘arth.” “Been,” he pronounced “ben,” of course, and “roof,” he called “ruff,” in spite of all his purism.
From the foregoing specimens, half a dozen among a thousand, the reader will get an accurate notion of this weakness in Jason’s character. It was heightened by the fact that the young man commenced his education, such as it was, late in life, and it is rare indeed that either knowledge or tastes thus acquired are entirely free from exaggeration. Though Jason was several years my senior, like myself he was a recent graduate, and it will be easy enough to imagine the numberless discussions that took place between us, on the subject of our respective acquisitions. I say ‘respective,’ instead of mutual acquisitions, because there was nothing mutual about it, or them. Neither our classics, our philosophy, nor our mathematics would seem to have been the same, but each man apparently had a science, or a language of his own, and which had been derived from the institution where he had been taught. In the classics I was much the strongest, particularly in the quantities, but Jason had the best of it in mathematics. In spite of his conceit, his vulgarity, his English, his provincialism, and the awkwardness with which he wore his tardily acquired information, this man had strong points about him, and a native shrewdness that would have told much more in his favour had it not been accompanied by a certain evasive manner, that caused one constantly to suspect his sincerity, and which often induced those who were accustomed to him, to imagine he had a sneaking propensity that rendered him habitually hypocritical. Jason held New York in great contempt; a feeling he was not always disposed to conceal, and of necessity his comparisons were usually made with the state of things in Connecticut, and much to the advantage of the latter. To one thing, however, he was much disposed to defer, and that was money. Connecticut had not then, nor has it now, a single individual who would be termed rich in New York; and Jason, spite of his provincial conceit, spite of his overweening notions of moral and intellectual superiority, could no more prevent this profound deference for wealth, than he could substitute for a childhood of vulgarity and neglect, the grace, refinement and knowledge which the boys of the more fortunate classes in life obtain as it might be without knowing it. Yes, Jason bowed down to the golden calf, in spite of his puritanism, his love of liberty, his pretension to equality and the general strut of his disposition and manner.
Such is an outline of the character and qualifications of the man whom I found, on my return from college, at the head of Mr. Worden’s school. We soon became acquainted, and I do not know which got the most ideas from the other, in course of the first fortnight. Our conversation and arguments were free, almost to rudeness, and little mercy was shown to our respective prejudices. Jason was ultra leveling in his notions of social intercourse, while I had the opinions of my own colony, in which the distinctions of classes are far more strongly marked than is usual in New England, out of Boston, and its immediate association. Still Jason deferred to names, as well as money, though it was in a way very different from my own. New England was, and is, loyal to the crown; but having the right to name many of its own governors, and possessing many other political privileges through the charters that were granted to her people, in order to induce them to settle that portion of the continent, they do not always manifest the feeling in a way to be agreeable to those who have a proper reverence for the crown. Among other points, growing out of this difference in training, Jason and I had sundry arguments on the subject of professions, trades and callings. It was evident he fancied the occupation of a schoolmaster next in honour to that of a clergyman. The clergy formed a species of aristocracy, according to his notions; but no man could commence life under more favourable auspices, than by taking a school. The following dialogue occurred between us, on this subject; and I was so much struck with the novelty of my companion’s notions, as to make a note of it, as soon as we parted.
“I wonder your folks don’t think of giving you suthin’ to do, Corny,” commenced Jason, one day, after our acquaintance had ripened into a sort of belligerent intimacy. “You’re near nineteen, now, and ought to begin to think of bringing suthin’ in, to pay for all the outgoings.”
By “your folks,” Jason meant the family of Littlepage; and the blood of that family quickened a little within me, fit the idea of being profitably employed, in the manner intimated, because I had reached the mature and profitable age of nineteen.
“I do not understand you exactly, Mr. Newcome, by your bringing something in,” answered I, with dignity enough to put a man of ordinary delicacy on his guard.
“Bringing suthin’ in is good English, I hope, Mr. Littlepage. I mean that your edication has cost your folks enough to warrant them in calling on you for a little interest. How much do you suppose, now, has been spent on your edication, beginning at the time you first went to Mr. Worden, and leaving off the day you quitted Newark?”
“Really, I have not the smallest notion; the subject has never crossed my mind.”
“Did the old folks never say anything to you about it?—never foot up the total?”
“I am sure it is not easy to see how this could be done, for I could not help them in the least.”
“But your father’s books would tell that, as doubtless it all stands charged against you.”
“Stands charged against me!—How, sir! do you imagine my father makes a charge in a book against me, whenever he pays a few pounds for my education?”
“Certainly; how else could he tell how much you have had?—though, on reflection, as you are an only child, it does not make so much difference. You probably will get all, in the end.”
“And had I a brother, or a sister, do you imagine, Mr. Newcome, each shilling we spent would be set down in a book, as charges against us?”
“How else, in natur’, could it be known which had had the most, or any sort of justice be done between you?”
“Justice would be done, by our common father’s giving to each just as much of his own money as he might see fit. What is it to me, if he chose to give my brother a few hundred pounds more than he chose to give to me? The money is his, and he may do with it as he choose.”
“An hundred pounds is an awful sight of money!” exclaimed Jason, betraying by his countenance how deeply he felt the truth of this. “If you have had money in such large sums, so much the more reason why you should set about doing suthin’ to repay the old gentleman. Why not set up a school?”
“Sir!”
“Why not set up a school, I say? You might have had this of mine, had you been a little older; but once in, fast in, with me. Still, schools are wanted, and you might get a tolerable good recommend. I dare say your tutor would furnish a certificate.”
This word “recommend” was used by Jason for “recommendation” the habit of putting verbs in the places of substantives, and vice versa, being much in vogue with him.
“And do you really think that one who is destined to inherit Satanstoe, would act advisedly to set up a school? Recollect, Mr. Newcome, that my father and grandfather have both borne the king’s commission; and that the last bears it, at this very moment, through his representative, the Governor.”
“What of all that?
