' OYSTERS. 21] 



only parallel. Salsifer is but a melancholy souvenir of oyster : there 

 is no substitute. 



Other poets may praise their beds of acanthus, of roses, oi of down, 

 as for me, if I 



" Knew myself to build the lofty rhyme, " 



my theme should be Beds of Oysters. Let garlands of Kali, Aph- 

 rodite the Ocean-queen's laurel, crown his brow, who jilted the fresh- 

 water maids of Helicon, and sang to the Nereids of the deep the ''Loves 

 oi Oysters " — an everlasting cliorus to their epithalamium ! 



Doubt not, ye corseted and whale-bone-tortured damsels, if the oys- 

 ter in his pearly palace caji love ; for he is nearly all heart. Doubt 

 not, ye who pride yourselves in the antiquity of your blood, whether 

 he ought to share your honors; for consider, that though you could 

 trace your ancestry back to Adam, yet the first oyster was created be- 

 fore the first Man. 



Good reader, I challenge thy experience, if the deglutition of this 

 exquisite creature doth not awaken within thee all the goodness and 



meekness, and sweetness of thy nature or of his } And is not 



that a moral meat which hath such power with lapsed humanity ? Is 

 it not "angels" food? What more could the gods themselves desire, 

 unless it be a sort of patent self-opening oyster, warranted to keep in 

 any climate ? I can refuse no man money or service, when I feel the 

 grace of the oyster within me : he cooleth my choler, he dissolveth 

 ray pride, he disremembereth me of my misfortunes, he maketh my 

 face to shine, he whispereth to my soul like the friendliest of friends. 



I am naturally a lovet of all womankind, nay, I adore them ; but 

 dost thou inquire, " but ichat ? 



Think of it, reader! I suggest no common oysters. I adduce the 

 large, semilucent oyster of York River, or the sweet striated Pongo- 

 teague. Behold him in his shell of dazzling pearl, beautiful and tender 



and innocent as a sleeping angel, and dost thou catch that errant 



odor, so subtle, yet so divine ? Yes, reader, I love the woman, but say, 



entre nous, don't you think the oyster is someioehat if it be ever 



so little . 



But the sex is in arms ; and shall I see thee, O oyster! anniliilated.^ 

 Say then, what oyster was ever a termagant — a virago — a shrew t Did 

 oysters eat the forbidden fruit? Did Ihey fire Troy ? The thing is ob- 

 vious. Let woman rejoice in the prerogative of serving the friend of 

 man, and man her friend. 



" But have they souls ? " 



Reader,] know not; neither dost thou ; nevertheless I shall hold 



