Salmagundi; or, The whim-whams and opinions of Launcelot Langstaff, esq. [pseud.] and others. By William Irving, James Kirke Paulding and Washington Irving. Printed from the original ed., with a preface and notes by Evert A. Duyckinck.

278 SALMAGUNDI.
election of a bashaw, or the levying of an army, to the appointment of a constable, the personal disputes of two miserable
slang-whangers, the cleaning of the streets, or the economy of a
dirt cart. A couple of politicians will quarrel, with the most
vociferous pertinacity, about the character of a bum-bailiff whom
nobody cares for; or the deportment of a little great man whom
nobody knows; and this is called talking politics; nay I it is
but few days since that I was annoyed by a debate between two
of my fellow lodgers, who were magnanimously employed in condemning a luckless wight to infamy, because he chose to wear a
red coat, and to entertain certain erroneous opinions some thirty
years ago. Shocked at their illiberal and vindictive spirit, I
rebuked them for thus indulging in slander and uncharitablenesses, about the color of a coat; which had doubtless for many
years been worn out; or the belief in errors, which in all probability had been long since atoned for and abandoned; but
they justified themselves by alleging that they were only engaged
in politics, and exerting that liberty of speech, and freedom of
discussion, which was the glory and safeguard of their national
independence. " Oh, Mahomet!" thought I, "what a country
must that be, which builds its political safety on ruined characters and the persecution of individuals!"
Into what transports of surprise and incredulity am I continually betrayed, as the character of this eccentric people gradually develops itself to my observations. Every new research
increases the perplexities in which I am involved, and I am more
than ever at a loss where to place them in the scale of my estimation. Is is thus the philosopher, in pursuing truth through
the labyrinth of doubt, error and misrepresentation, frequently
finds himself bewildered in the mazes of contradictory experience; and almost wishes he could quietly retrace his wandering