THE ATTACHÉ, OR SAM SLICK IN ENGLAND.

THE third series of The Clockmaker left Mr. Slick appointed Attache to the English Embassy, in consequence of the celebrity which his sayings as a clockmaker have attained; and this volume Opens with his departure for England, in company with his friend the Squil• who recorded his Nova Scotian remarks, and the Reve- rend Mr. Hopewell, an Episcopalian Minister of before the Ame- rican Revolution, dismissed by his old congregation, who have lately turned Unitarians. Of these three interlocutors, 111r. Hope- well upholds an establishment and the established order of things ; Mr. Slick brings his unsophisticated views and Yankee shrewdness to bear upon the social state of England and the Imperial Govern- ment of the Colonies ; whilst the Squire acts as a sort of moderator to both parties, but chiefly to Slick.

The subject-matter which this framework serves to introduce is rather superficial than profound; and consists for the most part of obvious points of manners as they are seen by a lion visiting England, rather than of any deeper or more important parts of our social system. The dulness in the house of a country squire during wet weather—the monotony of country-visits at the great mansions—the formality and absence of life or spirit in London dinner-parties, and the absurdity of crowded soirees, with a pane- gyric on the beauty of the ladies—form a good part of the volumes. A visit to a country cottage, (not of the kind which the Special Commissioners discovered in their late inquiry into the condition of the agricultural labourers,) and attendance at a country church, fur- nish opportunity for a panegyric on the beauties of the system of landlord and tenant and the advantages of an establishment ; Mr. Slick throwing in a sketch of public worship in the rural districts of the States. A remark leads to an onslaught on the modern Conservatives by Mr. Hopewell, with his own avowal of stanch Toryism and in what it consists : the propriety of distributing Co- lonial patronage among the colonists, and of finding some outlet for their stirring spirits by a larger field of ambition, is dis- cussed by Mr. Slick and the Squire : an interview with an Anti- Slavery man, who has travelled in America, and whom Slick bam- boozles with the story of the " Gougin' School," where refractory Negroes are sent to be practised upon to the extent of one eye, but if they lose both the pupil must pay the value, is a hit at the Exeter Hall people. There are also other topics, both British and Ame- rican, but none of great depth, or even novelty ; for we need not say that all we have indicated is not very new in its sub- stance, but must derive its novelty from the new forms into which it may be thrown.

These are not so telling as we expected when Slick, at the close of the third volume of the Clockmaker; received his appointment of Attache and was preparing fo'r a start. The style of Mr. Hem- BURTON has great clearness; and long piactice, with the advantage derived from the slang and other peculiarities of Slick, has given him the power of "making points" which often tell with a happy effect. But there is no inherent novelty in the subject- matter or in the views; and the style has degenerated into mannerism, and a mannerism all the more unpleasing from the original manner being so strongly marked. Apart from this, we suspect that the diction of Slick, upon trial, is unadapted to English modes of life ; not to mention that all continuations fall oft; and this work is not a second but a fourth continua- tion. But, whether the fault arises from the paucity of the matter or our previous familiarity with it, or from the style not being adapted to the theme, or from the too frequent repetition of peculiarities whose effect was exhausted at their first exhibition, the fact is clear enough that Sam Slick attraction has sunk consider- ably, and Mr. HALIBUBTON has reached the poorest of all repe- titions, that of repeating himself.

Perhaps the best points in the volume are those relating to America ; but, looking at the subject of the work, we shall take in preference those things that refer to England.

ENGLISH CIVILITY.

" Hallo! what's that ? Why, if it ain't land ahead, as I'm alive ! " said Mr. Slick. " Well, come this is pleasant too ; we have made a most an everlastire short voyage of it, hante we ; and I must say I like land quite as well as sea, in a gimral way, arter all : but, Squire, here is the first Britisher. That critter that's a claw in' up the side of the vessel like a cat is the pilot : now do, for goodness gracious sake, jist look at him, and hear him."

" What port ? " " Liverpool."

" Keep her up a point."

"Do you hear that, Squire ? that's English, or what we used to call in sing- ing-school short metre. The critter don't say a word, even as much as ' by your

leave '; but jist goes and takes his post, and don't ask the name of the vessel, or pass the time o' day with the captain. That ain't in the bill, it tante paid for that ; if it was, he'd off cap, touch the deck three times with his forehead, and 'slam' like a Turk to his honour the skipper. " There's plenty of civility here in England if you pay for it ; you can buy as much in five minits as will make you sick for a week : but if you don't pay for it, you not only won't get it, but you get sarce instead of it, that is, if you are fool enough to stand and have it rubbed in. They are as cold as Presby- terian charity, and mean enough to put the sun in eclipse, are the English. They haute set up the brazen image here to worship, but they've got a gold one, and that they do adore and no mistake; its all pay, pay, pay; perquisite, perquisite, perquisite ; extortion, extortion, extortion. There is a whole pack of yelpin' devils to your heels here, for everlastinly a cringin', fawnin', and coaxin', or snarlin', grumblin', or bullyin' you out of your money. There's the boatman, and tide-waiter, and porter, and custom-er, and truck-man, as Boor as you land; and the sarvant-man, and chamber-gall, and boots, and porter, again at the inn. And then on the road, there is trunk-lifter, and coachman, and guard, and beggar-man, and a critter that opens the coach-door, that they calls a vraterman, cause he is infernal dirty, and never sees water. They are jist like a snarl o' snakes, their name is legion and there ain't no eend to 'em.

" The only thing you get for nothin' here is rain and smoke, the rumatiz and scorny airs. If you could buy an Englishman at what he was worth and sell him at his own valiation, be would realize as much as a nigger, and would be worth tradin' in, that's a fact ; but as it is, he sin' worth flotilla,' there is no market for such critters, no one would buy him at no price. A Scotchman is wns, for he is prouder and meaner. Pat ain't no better pother: he ain't proud, cause he has a hole in his breeches and another in his elbow, and he thinks pride won't patch 'em; and he ain't mean, cause he hante got nothin' to be mean with."

DULNESS OF THE GREAT.

" When I first came I was nation proud of that title, the ' Attache'; now I am bappified it's nothin' but only an Attaché '—and I'll tell you why. The great guns and big bugs have to take in each other's ladies; so these old ones have to herd together. Well, the nobodies go together too, and sit together; and I've observed these nobodies are the pleasantest people at table, and they have the pleasantest places, because they sit down with each other, and are jist like yourself, plaguy glad to get some one to talk to. Somebody can only visit somebody, but nobody can go anywhere, and therefore nobody sees and knows twice as much as somebody does. Somebodies must be axed, if they are as stupid as a pump ; but nobodies needn't, and never are, unless they are spicy sort o' folks : so you are sure of them; and they have all the fun and wit of the table at their eend, and no mistake.

"I wouldn't take a title if they would give it to me ; for if I had one, I should have a fat old parblind dowager detailed on to me to take in to dinner: and what the plague is her jewels and laces, and silks and sattins, and wigs, to me? As it is, I have a chance to have a gall to take in that's a jewel herself— one that don't want no settin' off, and carries her diamonds in her eyes, and so on. I've told our Minister not to introduce me as an Attaché no more, but as Mr. Nobody, from the State of Nothin', in America; that's natur agin."

THE NEW SPY SYSTEM IN ENGLAND.

" There was a Kurnel Dan—Dun—plague take his name, I can't recollect it; but it makes no odds—I know he is Dun for, though, that's a fact. Well, he was a British kurnel, that was out to Halifax when I was there. I know'd him by sight ; I didn't know him by talk, for 1 didn't fill then the dignified situation I now do, of Attaché. I was only a clockmaker then; and I suppose he wouldn't have dirtied the tip eend of his white glove with me then, any more than I would sile mine with him now,—and very expensive and troublesome things them white gloves be too, there is no keepiu of them clean : for my part, I don't see why a man can't make his own skin as clean as a kid's, any time and if a feller can't be let shake hands with a gall except he has a glove on, Why ain't he made to cover his lips, and kiss thro' kid skin too ? "But to get back to the kurnel, and it's a pity he hadn't had a glove over his mouth, that's a fact. Well, he went home to England with his regiment; and one night when be was dinin' among some first chop men, nobles and SO on, they sot up considerable late over their claret ; and poor thin cold stuff it is ton, is claret. A man may get drowned in it, but how the plague he can get drunk with it is dark to me. It's like every thing else French, it has no substance in it; it's nothin' but red ink, that's a fact. Well, how it was I don't know, but so it eventuated, that about daylight he was mops and brooms, and began to talk somethin' or another he hadn't ought to; somethin' he didn't know himself, and somethin' he didnt mean, and didn't remember.

" Faith, next mornin' he was booked ; and the first thing he seed when he waked was another man a tryin' on of his shoes, to see how they'd fit to march to the head of his regiment with. Fact, I assure you, and a fact too that shows what Englishmen has come to : I despise 'em, I hate 'em, I scorn suck critters as I do oncarcumciaed pipers." " What a strange perversion of facts!" I replied. " Well, then, there was another feller got bagged t'other day, as innocent as could be, for givin' his opinion when folks was a talkin' about matters and things in gineral, and this here one in partikilar. I can't tell the words, for I don't know 'em, nor care about 'em ; and if I did, I couldn't carry 'em about so long; but it was for sayin' it hadn't ought to have been taken notice of, con- siderin' it jist popt out permiscuous like with the bottle-cork. If he hadn't a had the clear grit in him, and showed teeth and claws, they'd a nullified him so, you would'nt have seed a grease-spot of him no more. What do you call

that, now ? Do you call that liberty? Do you call that old English ? Do you call it pretty, say now ? Thank God, it tante Yankee. • • •

"What makes this spy system to England wuss, is that these eaves-droppers are obliged to hear all that's said, or lose what commission they hold ; at-least so folks tell me. 1 recollect when I was there last, for it's some years since Government first sot up the spy system ; there was a great feed given to a Mr. Robe, or Roble, or some such name, an out-and-out Tory. Well, sun- thin' or another was said over their cups, that might as well have been let alone, I do suppose, tho' dear me, what is the use oft' wine but to onloosen the tongue, and what is the use of the tongue but to talk ? Oh, cues 'em, I have no patience with them. Well, there was an officer of a =rain' regiment there, who it seems ought to have took down the words and sent 'em up to the head Gineral ; but he was a knowin' coon, was officer, and didn't hear it. No sooner said than done ; some one else did the dirty work for him : but you can't have a substitute for this, you must sane in person ; so the old Gineral bawls him right up for it.

"‘ Why the plague didn't you make a fuss?' sais the Gineral, 'why didn't you get right up, and break up the party?' ", I didn't bear it,' sais he.

‘" You didn't hear it !' sais Old Swordbelt, 'then you had ought to have beerd it; and for two pins I'd sharpen your hearin' for you, so that a snore of a fly would wake you up as if a byler had bust."

ENGLISH ItEACTr.

I don't think there ever was or ever will be such splendiferous galls as is there. Lord, the fust time 1 seed 'em it put me in mind of what happened to me at New Brunswick once. Governor of Maine sent me over to their Go- vernor's, official-like, with a state letter ; and the British officers axed me to dine to their mess. Well, the English brags so like Niggers, I thought I'd prove 'em, and set 'em off on their old trade, jist for fun. So, says I, stranger captain, sais I, is all these forks and spoons, and plates and covers, and urns, and what note, rael genuwine solid silver, the clear thing, and no mistake? " Sartainly," said he, "we have nothin' but silver here." He did, upon my soul, just as cool as if it was all true! Well, you can't tell a military what he sais ain't credible, or you have to fight him ; it's considered ongeuteel: so I jist puts my finger on my nose, and winks, as much as to say, " I ain't such a cussed fool as you take me to be, I can tell you." When he seed I'd found him out, he larled like any thing. Guess lie found that was no go, for I warn't born in the woods to be scared by an owl, that's a fact. Well, the foot time I went to Lord's party, I thought it was another brag agin ; I never see nothin' like it. Heavens and Birth ! I most jumpt out o' my skin. Where onder the sun, sais I to myself, did he rake and scrape to- gether such super-superior galls as these. This party is a kind o' consarvitory ; be has got all the raree plants and sweetest roses in England here, and must have ransacked the whole country for 'ens. Knowin' I was a judge of woman kind, he wants me to think they are all this way ; but it's onpossible. They are only " show frigates " arter all ; it don't stand to reason, they can't be all clippers. He can't put the leake into me that way, so it tante no use tryin'. Well, the next time, I seed jist such another covey of partridges, same plumage, same step, and same breed. Well done, sais I, they are intarmed to pull the wool over my eyes, that's a fact ; but they won't find that no easy matter, I know. Guess they must be done now; they can't show another presarve like them agin in all Britain. What trouble they do take to brag here, don't they ? Well, to make a long story short, how do you think it eventuated, Squire ? Why, every party I went to had as grand a show as them, only some on 'em was better—fact, I assure you, it's gospel truth; there ain't a word of a lie in it, twit to the letter. I never see nothin' like it since I was raised, nor dreamed nothin' like it, and what's more, I don't think the world has nothin' like it nother. It beats all natnr. It takes the rag off quite. If that old Turk Ma- homed had seed these galls, he would'nt a bragged about his beautiful ones in Paradise so for everlastingly, I know; for these English heifers would have beat 'em all holler, that's a fact. For my part, I call myself a judge. I have an eye there ain't no deceivin'. I have made it a study, and know every pint about a woman, as well as I do about a boss ; therefore, if I say so, it must be ao, and no mistake. I make all allowances for the gear, and the gettin' up, and the vampin', and all that sort o' flash; but toggery won't make an ugly gall handsnm, nohow you can fix it. It may lower her ugliness a leetle, but it won't raise her beauty, if she haute got none.