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- a monk who apostatizes to the world at times. Like a mariner, too,
though much abroad, he may have a wife and family in some green harbor
which he does not forget. It is with him as with the Papist converts in
Senegal; fasting and mortification prove hard to bear.'
"The judge, with his usual judgment, always thought that the intense
solitude to which the Indian-hater consigns himself, has, by its
overawing influence, no little to do with relaxing his vow. He would
relate instances where, after some months' lonely scoutings, the
Indian-hater is suddenly seized with a sort of calenture; hurries openly
towards the first smoke, though he knows it is an Indian's, announces
himself as a lost hunter, gives the savage his rifle, throws himself
upon his charity, embraces him with much affection, imploring the
privilege of living a while in his sweet companionship. What is too
often the sequel of so distempered a procedure may be best known by
those who best know the Indian. Upon the whole, the judge, by two and
thirty good and sufficient reasons, would maintain that there was no
known vocation whose consistent following calls for such
self-containings as that of the Indian-hater _par excellence_. In the
highest view, he considered such a soul one peeping out but once an age.
"For the diluted Indian-hater, although the vacations he permits himself
impair the keeping of the character, yet, it should not be overlooked
that this is the man who, by his very infirmity, enables us to form
surmises, however inadequate, of what Indian-hating in its perfection
is."
"One moment," gently interrupted the cosmopolitan here, "and let me
refill my calumet."
Which being done, the other proceeded:--
CHAPTER XXVII.
SOME ACCOUNT OF A MAN OF QUESTIONABLE MORALITY, BUT WHO, NEVERTHELESS,
WOULD SEEM ENTITLED TO THE ESTEEM OF THAT EMINENT ENGLISH MORALIST WHO
SAID HE LIKED A GOOD HATER.
"Coming to mention the man to whose story all thus far said was but the
introduction, the judge, who, like you, was a great smoker, would insist
upon all the company taking cigars, and then lighting a fresh one
himself, rise in his place, and, with the solemnest voice,
say--'Gentlemen, let us smoke to the memory of Colonel John Moredock;'
when, after several whiffs taken standing in deep silence and deeper
reverie, he would resume his seat and his discourse, something in these
words:
"'Though Colonel John Moredock was not an Indian-hater _par excellence_,
he yet cherished a kind of sentiment towards the red man, and in that
degree, and so acted out his sentiment as sufficiently to merit the
tribute just rendered to his memory.
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