"There is nothing," he says, "like launching a young
couple gayly, and cheering them from the shore; a good outset is half
the voyage."
Before proceeding any farther, I would beg that the Squire might not
be confounded with that class of hard-riding, foxhunting gentlemen so
often described, and, in fact, so nearly extinct in England. I use
this rural title partly because it is his universal appellation
throughout the neighbourhood, and partly because it saves me the
frequent repetition of his name, which is one of those rough old
English names at which Frenchmen exclaim in despair.
The Squire is, in fact, a lingering specimen of the old English
country gentleman; rusticated a little by living almost entirely on
his estate, and something of a humourist, as Englishmen are apt to
become when they have an opportunity of living in their own way. I
like his hobby passing well, however, which is, a bigoted devotion to
old English manners and customs; it jumps a little with my own humor,
having as yet a lively and unsated curiosity about the ancient and
genuine characteristics of my "father land."
There are some traits about the Squire's family, also, which appear to
me to be national. It is one of those old aristocratical families,
which, I believe, are peculiar to England, and scarcely understood in
other countries; that is to say, families of the ancient gentry, who,
though destitute of titled rank, maintain a high ancestral pride; who
look down upon all nobility of recent creation, and would consider it
a sacrifice of dignity to merge the venerable name of their house in a
modern title.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25