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a web of many textures

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The venerable Mrs. Partington asked us the question,
once, if we believed that everything was foreördained
beforehand in advance, and we were compelled to answer
that sometimes we did, and then again we did n't.
Some time after, we were sitting looking over the papers,
when the door opened and Mrs. P. stepped in. There
was a smile on her face, and the old green umbrella in
her hand. After welcoming her and requesting her to
be seated, she said, “Well it 's all lubricated now; just
as clear to me as crystial.” — “What is?” we queried, a
little puzzled to know what she meant. — “That about
foreördination, you know, and chance, and all that,
which we were talking about.” — “Ah, yes; well, how
was it?” — “Why, I 'tended the lectur' last night — one
of the eternity course.” — “Fraternity,” we suggested;
“who spoke?” — “O, Mr. what 's his name — he that
made the refrigerator, you know, for warming houses
in summer and cooling 'em in winter — Emerson — T.
P. Emerson.” — “You mean R. W. Emerson,” we hinted;
“did he lecture on refrigerators?” — “O, dear, no!


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't was on chance; and sich a lectur'! I thought I 'd
heerd lecturs before, but that succeeded 'em all.”—“Indeed!”
we said, somewhat interested, though there were
eleven letters unopened on the table, “tell us about it.”
— “Well,” she continued, “it was about chance, and he is
sich a queer man that you have to watch every word or
you can't understand him. If you lose one word, it 's
jest like a stitch broke in a seam made by some of the
sowing-machines — the work is good for nothing. Well,
he said there was no sich thing as chance, and that every
thing was planned out beforehand. And, to prove it, he
spoke of a ship on the sea, knocked about by the winds
and waves, and showed, just as loosed as anything I
ever saw, that she was not there by chance, or that she
was, and I declare I don't know which.” The old lady
reached down into her spacious pocket, and, taking out
the old Constitution and Guerriere handkerchief, wiped
her specs, as though she wished still for more light,
while Ike amused himself by trundling Lion round the
room, by his two hind legs, like a wheelbarrow.