“Right!—­there they go—­that’s just their way—­that will do in Europe, may be; it sounds just like English tyranny, now don’t it? but it won’t do here.”  And thereupon he began thrusting in the wooden box against our legs, with all his strength.

“No law, sir, can permit such conduct as this.”

“Law!” exclaimed a gentleman very particularly drunk, “we makes our own laws, and governs our own selves.”

“Law!” echoed another gentleman of Vernon, “this is a free country, we have no laws here, and we don’t want no foreign power to tyrannize over us.”

295

I give the words exactly.  It is, however, but fair to state, that the party had evidently been drinking more than an usual portion of whiskey, but, perhaps, in whiskey, as in wine, truth may come to light.  At any rate the people of the Western Paradise follow the Gentiles in this, that they are a law unto themselves.

During the contest, the coachman sat upon the box without saying a word, but seemed greatly to enjoy the joke; the question of the box, however, was finally decided in our favour by the nature of the human material, which cannot be compressed beyond a certain degree.

For the great part of this day we had the good fortune to have a gentleman and his daughter for our fellow-travellers, who were extremely intelligent and agreeable; but I nearly got myself into a scrape by venturing to remark upon a phrase used by the gentleman, and which had met me at every corner from the time I first entered the country.  We had been talking of pictures, and I had endeavoured to adhere to the rule I had laid down for myself, of saying very little, where I could say nothing agreeable.  At length he named an American artist, with whose works I was very familiar, and after having declared him equal to Lawrence (judging by his portrait of West, now at New York), he added, “and what is more, madam, he is perfectly self-taught.”

I prudently took a few moments before I answered; for the equalling our immortal Lawrence to a most vile dauber stuck in my throat; I could not say Amen; so for some time I said nothing; but, at last, I remarked on the frequency with which I had heard this phrase of self-taught used, not as an apology, but as positive praise.

“Well, madam, can there be a higher praise?”

“Certainly not, if spoken of the individual merits of a person, without the means of instruction, but I do not understand it when applied as praise to his works.”

“Not understand it, madam?  Is it not attributing genius to the author, and what is teaching compared to that?”

296

I do not wish to repeat all my own bons mots in praise of study, and on the disadvantages of profound ignorance, but I would, willingly, if I could, give an idea of the mixed indignation and contempt expressed by our companion at the idea that study was necessary to the formation of taste, and to the development of genius.  At last, however, he closed the discussion thus,—­“There is no use in disputing a point that is already settled, madam; the best judges declare that Mr. H—­g’s portraits are equal to that of Lawrence.”